White Heat (7 page)

Karin glanced at him, realized he was most unkindly laughing at her, and plunged for the ladder. Inevitably her high heel caught on the edge of one of the steps that was protected by a metal band, and she would have fallen several feet and almost certainly sustained a broken ankle, if nothing worse, only Willoughby managed to be behind her at precisely the right moment and maintained her balance for her with a steel-strong right hand that looked extraordinarily dark by contrast with his white shirt cuff.

When they reached the bottom of the ladder he allowed her to shake herself free, but shook his head at her wa
rn
ingly.

‘You know,’ he said, almost conversationally, ‘it’s your hair. You can’t help it, naturally, but your temper gets out of hand so swiftly that it’s liable to lead you into trouble. Next time just hurl some abuse. Don’t risk your neck!
’

Then with a careless, amused, white-toothed smile he left her
—
left her to find her own way back to her cabin, and to snub Tom badly when she ran into him. He was just about to tell her that he had been hunting for her all over the ship when she bit her lip and fairly hissed at him:

‘Oh, leave me alone, please!’

And wisely, he left her alone.

CHAPTER FOUR

In
the tropics most passengers were affected by the heat, and blossoming friendships flourished or died according to the effect the soaring temperature had on the individuals concerned. Karin was not in the least upset when one or two of her most persistent admirers, growing somewhat disgruntled as a result of her obvious determination to hold them at bay, transferred their attentions to quarters where they were more favourably received, and where the response was more encouraging; but the faithful Tom Paget was not amongst these.

But the Indian Ocean acted as a kind of tonic. It was still extremely hot, and the nights were very frequently unbearable, but in the very early mornings, and again at sunset, there were some delightful periods when an actual wind seemed to arise, and it was as good as a cooling shower to people who had the energy to drag themselves on deck and take advantage of it.

There were several children on board, particularly in the first-class, and Karin was always willing to help out with them during those long, hot days at sea. It relieved the sorely tried parents, and as Mrs. Makepiece raised no objections, and, indeed, spent most of her days lying supine in a deck-chair
—
only reviving in the evenings sufficiently to enjoy a good dinner and play bridge
—
it would have been a little unreasonable of her if she had objected.

It was too hot for games, too hot for marathon exercise routines round the deck ... but never, according to the number of couples who disappeared nightly from the main public rooms and were afterwards to be come upon in various secluded
corner
s of the boat deck and the promenade deck, and even the deck where the swimming-pool, that attracted such numbers in the daytime, was covered in at night to prevent accidents, too hot for flirtations and rather more amorous affairs.

It was at this stage of the voyage that Kent Willoughby was less
s
uccessful in keeping his feminine pursuers at a distance. After so long
a
t sea natural shyness evaporated, and primitive determination took its
p
lace, and the ladies who had earmarked him from the beginning as
w
ell worth an effort to impress with their charms refused to let him off
a
s easily as they had done hitherto. There was a good deal of
c
ompetition to secure him for a partner at dances, and it could have
b
een that he was less choosy than he had been when the
Ariadne
left
E
ngland, but whenever Karin caught sight of him in the evenings he
a
ppeared to have either an enchanting blonde, a southern type of dark-
h
aired beauty, or a redhead who was far, far redder than she was
h
erself, either hanging on his arm, or sharing a settee with him; and in
e
ach case the lady appeared to be enjoying herself hugely and to be
m
aking enormous strides towards cementing the friendship while Kent
Willoughby himself looked so completely relaxed and content that it
s
eemed reasonable to suppose this was not a case of having been
c
ornered at last, but a natural surrendering to something he found far
m
ore delightful than he had anticipated.

As a result of looking on at him dancing Karin knew he was a most finished performer, as much at home with beat numbers as with the staider, old-fashioned dances. But although there was more than one occasion when she found herself without a partner, and he must have observed this fact, he did not offer to partner her on the glistening floor. On one occasion he looked across at her almost deliberately, and his eyebrows went up quite noticeably as if he was surprised she was a temporary Cinderella, but although he was merely an onlooker at the time he did not cross over to her and ask her whether she would like to dance.

He merely turned away after a minute, lighted a cigarette, and then went up on deck as if he had had enough of the highly concentrated atmosphere for one night.
Karin felt furious at the snub, and as she made her way to her cabin she wondered why he still went out of his way to snub her sometimes. There were occasions when he was quite affable, when he nodded to her casually if he met her on deck, even smiled at her brilliantly once or twice, and always had a few words for her when they met in the dining-saloon. But it was plain that he was bent on preventing anything in the nature of a friendship growing up between them, or even an acquaintance that might in time develop its warmer side.

Why? Karin wondered. And although she assured herself constantly that she disliked him because he was an arrogant man, a self-centered man, and a man who could be
—
she felt certain
—
a little cruel, she was not entirely happy about a situation that was far from flattering to herself, since amongst all the rest of the attractive women passengers she was the despised and rejected ... the only one, very possibly, he had kissed and turned his back upon!

Although somehow she couldn’t see him in the role of a shipboard lover. He was too aloof and reserved, possibly too terrified of involving himself ... and that could explain the reason why his women friends were numerous rather than carefully selected. There was safety, he no doubt believed, in numbers, and so long as he remembered this no one was likely to be hurt.

Least of all himself.

It had never even occurred to Karin before that the weather could remain as perfect as it did during their crossing of the Indian Ocean. Day after day the same blue sea, brilliant sky, and radiant sun. It was possible, she supposed, to rebel against the monotony after a time, but that couldn’t be so in her case. She adored the sun, she actually seemed to thrive on blistering heat, and she certainly looked a picture of golden-skinned health and beauty as the sun-soaked days slid past.

She was glad she had bought herself lots of suitable clothes to wear. She had sun-tops, cotton dresses, linen dresses, silk shantung dresses, elegant tailored slacks. And at night she made her appearance in chiffon and organza and wild silk. She always looked, despite her red hair and her coating of tan, rather like a piece of Dresden china, without the ability to take a proper amount of care of herself. But this was, actually, quite untrue, for she was more capable than most young women of her age of fending for herself, and Mrs. Makepiece found her extraordinarily useful, very conscientious and thoughtful, and began to be really fond of her.

‘When we get to Australia,’ she said, when it seemed that Australia was not very far away any longer, ‘I shall introduce you to all the friends I know, and with a little luck I’ll find you a rich husband.’ When Karin laughed at this
—
and was secretly alarmed by the thought of being married off to a tough Australian sheep-farmer type, however large his bank balance — Mrs. Makepiece shook her head and looked displeased. ‘Oh, you mustn’t imagine all Australians are coarse and ill-mannered,’ she defended the large circle of acquaintances she would soon be revisiting. ‘They’re not. I know one or two quite charming men
—
and
they’re bachelors! You’ll go down splendidly, my dear, because you’re so very English. And I give you my word I really intend to see you married before I return to England. I’ve a feeling that marriage is the only thing for a girl like you!’

Karin could not agree with her, and running into Kent Willoughby after repeated threats of this sort she wondered whether he had some idea that Mrs. Makepiece had plans for her ... and that he also strongly suspected what those plans were. Mrs. Makepiece was inclined to talk unwisely sometimes at dinner, particularly after more than one glass of champagne.

‘Karin is such a charming girl I mean to see to it that she has a really
wonderful
time when this voyage is over,’ she confided to the rest of the diners at her table on more than one occasion. ‘A far more wonderful time than she’s had on this trip so far
...
’
glaring at Kent Willoughby as if she held him personally responsible for Karin’s failure to have what she considered a really remarkable time
—
considering her looks, and everything about her
—
during the trip.

Willoughby smiled in a faintly amused fashion.

‘The voyage isn’t over yet, Mrs. Makepiece,’ he reminded her.

‘No; but it soon will be. And, in any case, this Australian trip is always a bit tiresome. It lasts so long, and unless there are some
really exciting
people on
board ...
well, it isn’t much fun for a girl,’ glaring once more at Willoughby.

‘Oh, come now, Mrs. Makepiece!’ he exclaimed. ‘I may have formed entirely the wrong impression, but it seems to me that Miss Hammond is always surrounded by admirers. Why,’ smiling in an odd, derisive way at Karin, ‘sometimes they’re so thick that one simply cannot force a way through the crush.’

‘Young men!’ Mrs. Makepiece exclaimed disdainfully. ‘When a girl like Karin marries she wants something more than a young man who has yet to make his way in the world!’

The captain smiled, as if he partly agreed with Anthea Makepiece, but was a little amused by her, and Willoughby pretended to look amazed.

‘You astound me,’ he declared. ‘What about poor Tom Paget? Surely it doesn’t matter that he’s young, and has presumably to make his way in the world, if love’s young dream is involved?’ His eyes were now mockingly fixed on Karin and when she flushed indignantly they dropped to the ring on her finger. ‘Don’t you believe in love’s young dream, Miss Hammond? I’m sure, somehow, that you do,’ he said softly and silkily.

Karin decided there was no necessity for her to answer him, and as she had finished her dinner she excused herself and left the table. She was making her way with quick, somewhat agitated steps up on to the deck when she found Willoughby was also moving purposefully in the same direction, and that he was close to her elbow. She wheeled round and looked at him with upraised eyebrows, and he smiled and took her by the arm.

‘I’m afraid it hadn’t really occurred to me that the voyage was nearly over,
’
he said. ‘In a week now you and I will have parted company. Do you suppose we shall ever meet again once we say good-bye in Sydney?’

Karin wrenched away her arm.

‘I haven’t the least idea,’ she replied.

He glanced at her quizzically. It was brilliant moonlight on deck, and in her pale silk dress and brocade shoes she looked slightly unreal, somehow. She was wearing a delicate flower perfume, and he inhaled it appreciatively.

‘You know,’ he said, wrinkling his nose, ‘I do like that stuff you put on your hair.’

She answered impatiently.

‘I don’t put any “stuff” on my hair!’

‘You mean it’s the natural perfume of your hair?’

‘I mean it’s probably shampoo, or setting lotion, but I don’t, as you appear to imagine, do anything about it myself.’

‘Then I love your shampoo and your setting-lotion.’ He was, she gathered, in a facetious mood, and that reacted on her immediately. She decided to be very stiff and formal, and as distant with him as she knew how. ‘By the way,’ coming to a halt at a spot near the rail and leaning his back against it, ‘are you really going to let poor Tom Paget go off this ship without anything in the way of encouragement from you to cheer him during some possibly difficult days ahead? He has, I believe, to look for a job, and that can be a pretty comfortless task when you’re on your own.’

‘Tom will not be on his own,’ she replied frigidly. ‘He has many friends where he is going ... friends who mean to do their best for him.’

‘And you haven’t arranged to meet somewhere when he’s landed a job? Haven’t you even exchanged photographs?’