Authors: Rosalind Brett
It was about nine-thirty when someone knocked at the door. Vic dragged himself upright and walked into the tiny vestibule, opened the door. Then Terry
’
s heart lost
a
beat it would never pick up, while her sinews tightened and a polite mask slipped into position.
“
Why, hallo, Pete!
”
Vic exclaimed.
“
We
’
ve been wondering if we
’
d have to invite you formally before you
’
d look us up. Come on in.
”
Then came Pete
’
s voice, clear but lazy.
“
Thought
I’
d give you budgies time to settle a bit. How are things?
”
Instinctively, Annette had put a tidying hand to the golden hair and drawn herself gracefully to her feet. She extended a hand, gave that slightly knowledg
e
able smile she had always given Pete.
“
Good evening, Mr. Sternham,
”
she said demurely.
“
I believe you
’
ve met my sister.
”
Pete gave her the slight bow she enjoyed, slanted a noncommittal glance at Terry and said,
“
Good evening, Mrs. Hilton
...
Miss Fremont. I hope I
’
m not in the way?
”
“
Certainly not,
”
said Annette.
“
What do you think of our palace? A little on the small and plain side, isn
’
t it?
”
“
Maybe, but what do you care?
”
said Pete.
“
It
’
s a home, and you share it. I came to invite you out to my place for dinner on Friday. I
’
ve just been to the Winchesters.
”
“
And they told you Terry was here?
”
He nodded, again looked at Terry.
“
Feeling brighter, little one?
”
“
Yes,
”
she answered baldly.
“
You were in bed when I called the other day. Vida said you weren
’
t at all well.
”
She said distinctly,
“
Something must have disagreed with me, I think.
”
“
It was filthy luck,
”
said Annette, settling back into her chair.
“
Terry was booked for a week in Singapore and she had to give it up. Roger was heartbroken.
”
Pete clucked sympathetically.
“
Never mind. Singapore will still be there when you feel a hundred per cent again. You haven
’
t a bad color at the moment.
”
Terry clasped her hands rather tightly in her lap and made no reply. Vic poured short drinks and glasses were lifted.
Annette asked interestedly,
“
Are you celebrating something on Friday, Pete, or just feeling sociable?
”
“
I thought a dinner for six would be a change from
eating alone. I like the Winchesters and it goes without saying that I like you Winchesters as well.”
“Just the six of us? What’s happened to your Swedish friends?”
“They’ve left. Jan has returned to Sweden, and Astrid is visiting some people in Penang. They’re not likely to come back to Penghu.”
“No?” Annette’s oblique glance was inquisitive. “I always thought you might marry that girl. She had a nice cool look for a hot climate. Did you ever meet her, Terry?”
“Yes, once.”
“Wouldn’t you have said she was Pete’s cup of tea?”
Terry tried to answer but couldn’t. She hesitated too long.
He asked, with the merest trace of taunt in his soft tones, “Well, Teresa? Would you say Astrid was my cup of tea?”
“
It
’
s one of the things upon which I have no opinion
at all,
”
she replied evenly.
“
Oh, come now. Don
’
t be shy.
”
She wouldn
’
t be baited, not this time.
“
I
’
ve no idea what sort of woman would suit you,
”
she said offhandedly.
“
I
’
m not interested.
”
“
That
’
s a bit hard,
”
said Vic.
“
Every bachelor thinks
that every unmarried woman is devoured with interest in everything he does. You
’
re not very good for a man
’
s ego.
”
It was out before she knew it.
“
Pete
’
s ego is the self-inflating kind. Didn
’
t you know?
”
Annette was surprised into a short laugh; she looked quickly at Pete
’
s hard smile.
“
You know,
”
she said,
“
you two a
r
e the biggest mystery in Penghu. I can
’
t imagine how you tolerated each other during those four days on the river.
”
Terry said,
“
We were both one-track. Pete thought only of his rubber trees and I
’
d have endured anything to get to you.
”
There was an unpleasant smile in Pete
’
s tones as he commented,
“
You stood it bravely, Teresa. I didn
’
t know you at all, yet I felt I could trust you.
”
The very faintest emphasis on the last two words, and it took Terry an effort of will to keep her face averted from him. He knew how to hurt without seeming to; there was hardly a shade of speech or behaviour he couldn
’
t use, if he was put to it.
“
Your instinct was absolutely right,
”
Annette stated.
“
I
’
ve shamelessly depended on Terry since she was about fifteen.
”
“
Thank you all for the compliments,
”
said Terry casually, and she looked at her watch.
“
Do you think we could go now, Vic? Pete will keep Annette company, and it won
’
t take you long to run me home, anyway.
”
“
I
’
ll take you,
”
said Pete as coolly.
“
No need to trouble Vic.
”
“
It
’
s no trouble—is it, Vic?
”
she said hurriedly.
“
Well, no. Why don
’
t you both stay a while longer, though? Pete can drive you home on his way.
”
Pete was standing.
“
I only came to hand out the invitation for Friday. If the child is tired she must go home, and no one,
”
with a slightly cynical accent,
“
has more right than I to take her there.
”
“
That
’
s debatable,
”
said Vic with a grin.
“
I
’
m her brother-in-law.
”
“
So you are,
”
suavely
.
“
For the moment I
’
d forgotten that. Well, good nighty both of you. Glad to see you
’
re settled in. See you on Friday.
”
Robbed of volition, Terry picked up her scarf and went out with the others. Vic and Annette sauntered along to the top of the staircase, waved good night, slipped an arm about each other and strolled back to the flat. Terry moved stiffly down the stairs, kept at least a foot of space between herself and Pete. At a bend they met a well-to-do Malayan couple going up to their apartments; the woman was sallowly beautiful and garbed in tinsel-edged magenta silk, and as Terry avoided them Pete
’
s hand automatically reached for her elbow. It didn
’
t touch her, though; Terry took care of that.
In the star-soaked darkness she paused.
“
I
’
d rather walk, if you don
’
t mind,
”
she said distantly.
“
In those heels? I doubt it. If you
’
re afraid of being whisked away to the plantation, you needn
’
t be. I don
’
t want you there alone.
”
A pause.
“
That shakes you, doesn
’
t it?
”
“
Nothing you could do or say would shake me now. Very well, we
’
ll go in your car.
”
As he got behind the wheel, he said,
“
You may be interested to know that I got the ring back from Astrid before she left. One of these days I
’
ll give it to you, and you can drop it in the river.
”
After that he drove without speaking, and did not even offer a remark when they met the usual procession of dancers carrying colored lanterns who were followed by a dense crowd of laughing villagers. The car crawled through the throng, stopped while a cart loaded with sweetmeats and fruits was dragged past them, and moved on. In the square, another small dance was in progress. The performers this time were children, solemn-eyed, rhythmic in their movements, brilliant in their miniature adult dress. Europeans had come out to their verandas to watch and applaud, and among them were Bill and Vida Winchester. Perhaps it was fortunate that they had joined the residents at the next house.
Terry was able to slip from the car, murmur,
“
Thank you. Good night,
”
and run into the house almost before Pete had a chance to shift from his seat. When she came out half an hour later the small dancers were being led away, and an older group had taken their place.
Watching the snaky hand movements, the strutting and posing, the bobbing lights, the triangular brown faces in the great glow, she wasn
’
t sure which seemed the most unreal—those dancers out there under the palms or herself sitting alone at the back of the veranda and feeling a bit sick and cold, and certainly more lonely than she had ever felt before.
When she went to bed that night she lay sleepless in a cocoon of misery. Could she possibly go on like this, longing for the love of a man whose every glance and cadence showed his enmity?
Next day the Vinan railway made the headlines in the local newspaper. The line had been cleared and repaired and it was thought that rolling stock for re-starting the service would be available in a few weeks
’
time. Several different officials were congratulated on the speed with which the task had been accomplished; in all, it might not be more than three months from the derailment till the line would operate again. A truly magnificent feat in the jungle. Ending the report came a paragraph condemning the hotheaded action of the younger element of Vinan. The total number of cholera victims had reached only twenty,
“
an achievement for which we must thank the venerable headman of Vinan, Kim Mali.
”
To Terry, when she read it, the item was like an echo of a past life. She couldn
’
t even recall very clearly how she had felt that day on the jetty at Vinan and next day in the headman
’
s hut. Very much younger, she was sure, and very different from the person she was now.
Even a casual glance into her mirror, these days, made her feel lost and vague and frightened. What in the world had happened to the eager and intensely interested young woman who had made the trip from England and happily boarded the river steamer at Shalak? Could one change so much in such a short time
?
The answer was yes, one could, if events conspired to cause it. She wondered how she would feel in perhaps a year
’
s time, with Penghu behind her, and found she could visualize nothing beyond today.
Friday morning came. Should she go with the Winchesters to the rubber plantation tonight, or pretend a headache? She had the conviction that Pete would let her get away with any excuse she might make; that was the way he felt now: hard and watchful and totally uncaring so long as she remained quiescent in Penghu. Well, there would be time to decide later in the day.
She was drinking lime juice with Vida when a scrawny old Malay brought a letter. Vida took it from him, found a coin and sent him happily on his way. She looked at the envelope and said with a smile,
“
It
’
s for you, Terry. A good old-fashioned hand. I should say this beau is about seventy.
”
Terry ripped the envelope, read the few lines of writing it contained.
“
It
’
s from old Mr. Bretherton,
”
she mentioned.
“
You know, the lawyer.
”
“
I wasn
’
t aware you knew him.
”