Antigua Kiss (19 page)

Miranda came up to them. She put her arm round Christie's waist.

'You've monopolised her long enough, Ash. Now I want to stroll round the garden with her. We haven't talked properly all day. You can go and peek at your nephew.'

Like her husband with his English idioms, she had adopted some Americanisms.

Ash took his dismissal with a smile, and Miranda said to Christie, 'Let me show you my favourite place in the garden. Or have you already discovered the gazebo Joss had built for my last birthday?'

Christie shook her head, and was taken, with Miranda chatting all the way, to a corner of the grounds where there was a small stone-built tower with a cedar-shingled roof.

The upper part was open on all sides. When they had climbed the staircase to it, Christie found that a cushioned bench ran round three sides of the square, with a table in the centre.

'There are blinds to let down if it's too hot, but the roof is enough shade for me. I come here to write my letters, or to do my needlepoint, or sometimes just to sit and think,' explained Mrs Hathaway.

'Ash and I are very old friends,' she went on, hardly pausing for breath. 'He's one of my favourite people. He's told me a lot about you, including the fact that he wants you to be in charge at Heron's Sound.

He must have great confidence in your taste. Are you going to take on the task, or haven't you made up your mind yet?'

'Yes, I am. That's partly what he and I were discussing while we were walking just now.'

'That's wonderful. I'm very glad. It will solve a lot of problems for him to have you remain here.'

'And for me. I was dreading leaving John.' Christie hesitated before asking, 'Why is Ash one of your favourite people, Mrs Hathaway?'

'Call me Miranda, please. Well now, why do I like him? Let's see. I suppose the main reason is that he has the rare combination of a cultivated mind in the body of a man of action. Sailing men can be horribly boring, you know, if they have no interests
but
boats. With Ash one can talk about anything, even women's subjects. He's an excellent cook. Did you know that?'

'Yes, he cooked a meal for me and a friend of mine in London.'

'He was forced to acquire that expertise. You could say that the success of a charter boat depends on the standard of the cuisine.

When he started out Ash had to be skipper and crew, chef, bottle-washer, the lot.'

She paused for a moment before continuing, 'I'm attracted to people who love life in all its aspects. Joss is one, and Ash is another.'

'And a lover of women, so I gather?' As soon as she had said it, Christie wished the comment unspoken.

But Miranda smiled, and replied, 'Yes, I can't defend him on that charge. He is rather ruthless with women. But nobody's perfect, I guess, and there is a side to his nature which
I
think more important.

Do you know where he spent all last evening?'

Christie shook her head. She had assumed he had spent it with Bettina.

'I do,' said Miranda. 'Not because he himself told me. I learned it from a mutual friend, the doctor who looks after us if ever we have any health problems during our stays here. He told me how, for some time now, Ash has been going to the hospital to see an old seaman from St Lucia who had no relations to visit him. Last night the poor old fellow died. If he'd been alive today, I feel sure Ash would have slipped away for an hour or two. He's like that. He cares about people—provided they're old or young, or middle- aged like myself.

It's only bedworthy girls who have to watch out, and nowadays most of them are well able to take care of themselves.'

There was a pause before she added, 'I hope I haven't made you nervous about his intentions to-wards you. You're a very lovely young woman. I could see that our lonely surgeon, whom I put beside you at dinner, was completely neglecting poor Lucy Grant on his other side. But I don't think you need to worry that Ash will step out of line where you're concerned. Because of the child, you and he have a special relationship, and I feel sure he'll respect that—unless you indicate otherwise. You must find him attractive, don't you?'

Christie said guardedly, 'His height alone makes him striking. I wonder how he came by it. The Greeks aren't noted for their tallness, and he certainly takes after his mother as far as his colouring goes.

Perhaps his father was a tall man, although my brother-in-law wasn't.'

'You poor child: that was such a tragedy.' Miranda reached over and squeezed Christie's hand for a moment. Then she said, in her usual bright tone, 'I think we'd better go back now. I shan't be popular if I keep you out of circulation too long.'

Ian waylaid them at the edge of the terrace.

'Will you dance with me, Christie?'

This time she had no excuse. She went with him on to the floor. The music was slow, as it had been the last time they danced, but he did not attempt to hold her close again.

Almost immediately he said, 'I believe I've made rather a fool of myself. I didn't realise during dinner that I was poaching on another man's preserves— and pne whom I shouldn't care to get on the wrong side of. He's so much bigger than I am,' he added, with a rueful smile.

'What makes you think you were poaching?'

'I saw you dancing together, and disappearing together. I realised it had been too much to expect that such a very attractive young woman would be unattached. You should have put me in my place, but I suppose you're accustomed to every Tom, Dick and Harry making a set at you, and you bear with them kindly—too kindly.'

'I think you exaggerate, Ian. I'm not as attractive as that,' she returned, suspecting him of flattery.

But he sounded in earnest as he said, 'No, I'm serious. If your yachtsman hadn't seen you first, I should have pursued you most vigorously. In spite of the difference in our ages. It's a long time—years— since I last felt so strong an attraction. It's a shame I can't follow it up. I should have enjoyed taking you sailing, and having your charming face on the other side of the table at The Admiral's Inn tomorrow night. However, it isn't to be.'

Christie was taken aback by this seemingly sincere declaration. Ian lacked Ash's physical distinction, being a man of only medium height with thinning brown hair and grey eyes. But he was a leading London surgeon—he had not said so, but she had gathered as much—and sophisticated and witty. She would have been less than human not to be pleased by his admiration.

Later, when he was leaving, he gave her his card and expressed the hope that, when she returned to London, she would ring him up. She had not told him she did not intend to go back.

He left the party at midnight, but it went on much later and was still in progress at one-fifteen when she slipped away to her room.

Surprisingly she slept almost at once, and awoke at her usual early hour.

Today was the day she had to give Ash her decision—and what an impossible decision. How could she commit her whole future to a man who was still, in many ways, an enigma; and on the extraordinary basis which he had put to her last night?

After a while she threw back the sheet, and sat up and pulled off her nightdress. After brushing her teeth and her hair, she put on her bikini and walked through the gardens to the beach. To her relief, it was deserted. With any luck she would have it to herself for at least an hour. If most of the others had stayed up until two or three, they would not be rising very early. Surprised that she didn't feel more jaded after losing three of her usual eight hours' sleep, she plunged into the clear water, and struck out for a white raft moored about a hundred yards out.

From the raft she had a full view of the whole of the Hathaways'

property; the rambling one-storey house with its silver-grey shingled roofs half hidden by palms and other trees, with Miranda's gazebo marking the boundary at one end, and the flight of stone steps at the other. Two Sunfish and a Hobie Cat-were beached close to the stone retaining wall, and there was a rack for four windsurfers.

When Christie had asked Miranda why they didn't live at Mill Reef where many of their friends had properties, she had answered that she and Joss had no need to avoid the public eye, and she liked to live on a beach which was shared by the islanders and anyone else who discovered it.

'All my family are mad keen snorkellers. Me, I'm a people-watcher,'

she had said, with a laugh. 'I find them far more interesting than fish.'

Her host and hostess certainly had an enviable life style, thought Christie, as she dangled her legs over the edge of the raft and admired the luxuriant cascades of crimson and magenta bougainvillaea along the retaining wall.

A life style which would, in some measure, be hers from now on, whether or not she accepted Ash's offer of marriage.

She was conscious of a sense of relief at having told someone the truth. And how calmly he had received it, as if it were nothing very unusual, and certainly not a disability which made her unacceptable to human beings with normal reactions.

Yet she had kept it a secret even from her own sister; seeing it as something to keep dark, in the same way that, years ago, people who had petit mal had hidden it from public knowledge, and often suffered more from the secrecy than from the affliction itself.

For perhaps as long as half an hour—she did not have her watch on—Christie sat on the raft, thinking over all the reasons Ash had put forward in favour of their marriage.

But balancing the pros and cons brought her no nearer to a decision.

Not that she could marshal many reasons for refusing his proposal.

Her dubiety was all instinctive. As Ash said, all her life she hadbeen brainwashed into thinking of marriage as the culmination of romantic love. The idea of accepting a husband selected by her parents, or of being one of a man's several wives, was totally anathematic to her.

Yet such things had been, and in some parts of the world still were, a normal way of life.

A movement among the trees caught her eye, and a moment later she recognised the tall figure strolling down to the beach. When he reached the sand he must have seen her perched on the raft, but he didn't wave. Nor did she.

She watched him walk into the sea, panic rising inside her. What was she to say? Yes or no?

At waist-depth, Ash flung himself forward and began a fast crawl towards her. At the same time the sun rose higher and the sea took on its daytime brilliance, like jewels with a spotlight turned on them.

'Good morning.'

He grasped the edge of the raft and heaved himself upwards, muscles bunching in his upper arms. The next moment he was seated beside her, the raft swaying beneath them.

'Good morning,' Christie answered, her mouth dry.

He raked back his crisp dark hair. It was typical of him to say, at once, without any preliminaries, 'What's it to be, Christiana?'

'I—' She swallowed, and licked her dry lips. 'It's . . . yes, I will marry you.'

'Good. In that case we'd better go to the cable office first thing tomorrow and get a wire off to the school. Better still, if you know the Head's private address, you can telephone him this morning.'

'Actually I wrote to him several days ago, as soon as I'd made up my mind.'

Now that she had committed herself, she was suddenly amazingly calm.

'Did you indeed? But you thought you'd keep me in suspense?'

'I don't think suspense is something which you often suffer from. I'm sure last night you slept like a log.'

'As I didn't turn in until three a.m. it didn't take me long to drop off.'

He studied her face for a moment. 'I don't see any shadows under your eyes. Don't tell me you haven't slept a wink?'

'No, I slept quite well, in the circumstances. Ash, there is just one thing . . .' She hesitated, before adding, 'I do have your word that you won't ever . . . that this will be a marriage of companionship only?'

'I thought that was made clear last night.'

'I'd still like your solemn promise.'

Without hesitation, looking straight into her eyes, he said, 'You have my word, Christiana. I will never do the things you don't like.'

Secure in the feeling that his word was his bond, she began to relax slightly. As she had already discovered with the revelation of her secret last night, it was better to act than to vacillate.

Life was not unlike sea-bathing in England. It was best to dive or run in. To hover uncertainly on the brink was only to prolong the agony.

Here, in the lukewarm seas surrounding Antigua, it was never necessary to muster one's will power to swim. Perhaps, from now on, in a close but platonic partnership with Ash, her life would proceed more smoothly and pleasurably than it had during her first marriage and widowhood.

'There seems no point in a long engagement,' said Ash. T suggest we arrange the wedding as soon as possible. Then, for appearances' sake, we'll go to London for a week or two, ostensibly on honeymoon, but really for you to pack up your flat and to choose the furnishing fabrics you'll want for Heron's Sound. You could buy them in New York, but as the majority of our clientele will be Americans, I think the house should be totally English in atmosphere.'

He stood up, and held out his hand to assist her to her feet. For a moment they stood side by side, adjusting their balance to the rocking motion caused by their movements.

'You'll enjoy that, won't you? Most women seem to enjoy shopping.'

'Yes, I shall love it. But what will you do with yourself? London in January doesn't seem exactly your scene.'

'I shall spend some time trying to unearth the early history of the house, and I'll go round the galleries and buy some more paintings.

I've been collecting paintings of schooners for a number of years, but have never had a place to display them. We could do with one very large painting for the drawing-room.'

Ash glanced towards the Hathaways' garden. 'That looks like Miranda and Joss coming down for their pre-breakfast bathe. We may as well break our news to them.'

'Yes, why not?' Christie agreed.

But inwardly she felt a fresh stirring of trepidation. It was going to be difficult, facing the congratulations of people who had no idea of the true nature of their arrangement.