Oriental Hotel (24 page)

But throughout the meal Elise had been made acutely uncomfortable by Gerald Brittain's presence in the dining room.

She had noticed him the moment she had come in, borne along by an effervescent Lola. During the four days that they had been at the Taj Mahal she had seen him in the dining room only once before, and that at breakfast, but now here he was, sitting alone at one of the tables.

He had seen her at the same moment – she was made aware of it by the slight sideways movement of his head and the narrowing of his eyes behind the screen of cigarette smoke. Then he had looked away and the half smile of greeting froze on her mouth. Lola's arm around her waist had steered her towards their table: ‘Look, darling, they've laid a red rose for each of us. Isn't it divine?' and she ignored him as arrogantly as he had ignored her.

But from where she was seated between the actor and the exiled Spaniard, she had a clear view of him, and was irritated each time their eyes met.

Surely he should have finished his meal and left by now? He had already begun when they had come in and it only took half the time to eat dinner if you ate alone. Yet still he sat there, smoking and warming his brandy balloon between his hands.

The chef finished preparing the crépes and a waiter served them, steaming still and running with syrup. But Lola made no attempt to put out her cigarette. Instead she stared, fascinated, at Gerald Brittain.

‘So that's your knight in shining armour, darling! Why on earth didn't you say so?'

‘Between us we hardly give anyone else the chance to say anything!' the actor observed drily, and the Sultan, who had been educated at Eton and Oxford and whose English was excellent chided him:

‘Speak for yourself, Bruno! We don't all have your gift for sparkling repartee.'

Melina, the Greek heiress, had turned round in her seat so that she too could see the subject of their conversation.

‘Hmm.' She sucked in her cheeks so that her sloe-dark eyes narrowed appreciatively above them. ‘Perhaps she didn't say so because she wants to keep him all to herself. And I can't say I blame her, can you, darlings?'

Without removing her gaze from Brit, Lola laid a restraining hand on the actor's arm.

‘Down, Bruno! Leave, boy!'

The actor's romantic preferences were well-known and the entire party with the exception of Elise erupted into laughter. She was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute, but Bruno – whose eyes were certainly glittering suddenly – and Lola had no intention of letting such a promising topic of conversation slide away from them so easily; their comments, bandied back and forth, ensured that the others remained helpless with laughter.

Over the Sultan's shoulder Elise saw Brit finish his brandy and stand up. Although throughout the meal she had wanted him gone, now she found herself wishing fervently that in order to go he did not have to pass quite so close to their table. He would hardly be able to avoid hearing the continual joking and she kept her eyes on her plate as he approached, praying the others would have the good manners to modify their comments. They were, after all, in the company of a member of the royal house of Mohar.

As Brit neared the table Bruno settled his sardonic features into an expression so straight that it was amusing in itself, but Lola watched him avidly and as he passed she extended a slim, scarlet-tipped hand to stop him.

‘Excuse me! Oh, please don't run away, Mr Brittain, we've been hearing so much about you.'

The heiress almost choked on her cr'pe as, unabashed, Lola continued, ‘Elise has been telling us how perfectly lovely you are – as if we couldn't see for ourselves. Won't you join us, so that we can all get to know one another properly? I'm sure we can easily rustle up another chair for you …'

‘No, thank you,' Brit said coolly.

‘But darling, you would be more than welcome – wouldn't he, Charlie?'

Coal-black eyes glinted like pieces of jet.

‘Of course! But you must not detain the gentleman against his will. I apologise on Lola's behalf, Mr Brittain. I can see that you would prefer to leave.'

‘That is true, Your Highness.'

‘Then by all means do so. My friend unfortunately sometimes forgets that not everyone shares her capacity for enjoyment. There are some of us whose purpose in this world is more serious, wouldn't you say? And some who, no matter what the circumstances, will still continue to see only the lighter side.'

‘I do agree. Good evening, Your Highness.'

‘Good evening, my dear fellow.'

‘Oh, what a pity!' the actor sighed as Brit left the dining room. ‘It looks as if you've managed to preserve him all for yourself after all, Elise darling.'

‘As far as I'm concerned, she's welcome to him,' Lola drawled. ‘What a shame that such good looks conceal such a perfectly boorish personality. One can really never tell, can one?'

Elise said nothing. She had seen the utter contempt in Brit's face as he looked at her and she was amazed how much she minded.

Once, she thought wryly, she might have agreed with Lola that Brit was a boor. Tonight she couldn't help feeling that apart from the Sultan, he was the only one who had come out of the encounter with any credit or dignity.

Elise was breakfasting alone next morning when Brit came in, crossing the room to her table.

‘Good morning.'

‘Good morning.' Fool that she felt, she hoped it did not show in her face. ‘Did you want to see me?'

‘Yes. I thought I might catch you last night, but it didn't seem too good a time.'

The flush rose and she could do nothing to stop it. So that was why he had been sitting there – hoping for an opportunity to speak to her.

‘Sit down,' she said.' Would you like some coffee? There's plenty in the pot.'

‘I've already had breakfast in my room.' But he sat anyway. ‘Arrangements for the next stage: we shall be sailing for Calcutta on a ship called the
Maid of Darjeeling
. From there we shall go across to Rangoon, Rangoon to Penang, Penang to Singapore, Singapore to Hong Kong. At least that's the plan. Whether it will work out like that of course remains to be seen.'

There was a sinking feeling in her stomach. The raider episode was still very clear in her mind.

‘When do we sail?'

‘Tomorrow.'

‘Thank goodness for that. This delay is driving me mad.' She saw his look. ‘I'm really very sorry about last night,' she added.

‘Forget it!' His mouth twisted slightly. ‘ Though I can't say I was very enamoured of your friends.'

‘They had drunk too much wine, I think.'

‘Was that what it was?'

‘Cocktails before we started eating and then a different wine with each course …'

‘Not to mention the quantity they no doubt consumed at lunch. And all afternoon spent lying on their sun-beds at the pool-side.'

‘Don't be too hard on them. I can't speak for the others, but I've known Lola since we were at finishing school together and she hasn't really changed one bit.'

‘It must have been some school.'

She looked at him sharply, but his bland expression gave nothing away.

‘I was very pleased to see her,' Elise went on. ‘With so much time on my hands, I was getting into quite a state. It's all too easy, sitting around on one's own, to let one's imagination run wild.'

‘Hmm. You'll be seeing them again today, I suppose?'

‘I don't know. I haven't made any arrangements.'

‘And it's a bit early for them to be up yet!'

‘Probably.' Lola had never been an early riser; she remembered days at school when a half-asleep pupil had had to be hauled from her bed and dressed by her friends to avoid castigation by the Principal. Now she doubted whether Lola emerged at all until afternoon, and then most probably only if she could hide behind her enormous tortoiseshell sunglasses.

‘You've been to Bombay before?' Brit asked.

‘Once. With Gordon.'

‘Did you do any sightseeing?'

‘Not much. Gordon was busy and …' As soon as she said this she remembered Brit's remarks about business being all-important and added defensively, ‘The weather wasn't very good for sightseeing, anyway; it was the rainy season. We did manage to go up to the Hanging Gardens on Malabar Hill and I can imagine it must be a fabulous view from the sea to the mountains, but it was too steamy to see much.'

‘And you've never been over to Elephanta Island?'

She looked puzzled. ‘I've never heard of it.'

‘Well, you missed a treat, then. I usually try to go there when I'm in Bombay.'

‘What is it? What's there to see?'

‘Carved cave temples. Doesn't sound much like the sort of thing you enjoy, I grant you, but they really are worth seeing.'

The inference was not lost on her. ‘ How do you know what I enjoy?' He didn't answer and she went on; ‘I'm
not
Lola, you know. Just because she's a friend …'

He pushed back his chair and stood up.

‘I thought of giving myself some time off and taking a trip over today. Come with me if you would like to. It's all right, you don't have to say yes or no now. If you decide to come, I'll be in the lobby in about an hour. If not – well, I shall see you on board the
Maid of Darjeeling
.'

‘All right. And thank you …'

As she watched him go out of the dining room surprise was uppermost in her mind, more prominent even than relief that tomorrow they would be on their way once more.

She wouldn't go with him to Elephanta Island, of course. But she was amazed that he should have offered to take her. She would have thought the rudeness of her party last night would only have confirmed his already low opinion of her. But there was no telling how he would react to anything. He was, she thought, the least predictable man she had ever known, infuriating almost in his ability to be unexpected.

Not only that, it was impossible to guess his motives – or to know what went on behind those amused hazel eyes. Sometimes, for no apparent reason, she felt very strongly that Gerald Brittain was not quite what he seemed to be; some pieces of the jigsaw did not quite fit.

She reached for the coffee pot to pour more coffee, but before she could lift it a waiter was at the table, eager and attentive.

‘Madame?'

‘Thank you.'

But as he moved away she was suddenly aware, even more sharply than before, of being alone. Perhaps dining last night in company had highlighted it.

She didn't envy Lola her friends – witty and amusing they might be, they were also almost unreal somehow, cardboard characters in a screenplay speaking lines which had been put into their mouths by someone else, and there was a gap between their world and hers that she could not – had no desire to – bridge. Their insensitive fun-at-all-costs attitude had offended her; the same careless arrogance which was amusing when Lola alone displayed it became repulsive and almost decadent when experienced en masse.

No, it was the simple fact that they understood one another that she envied. Even the Sultan, slightly aloof as he was, belonged.

Without knowing why, Elise shivered and impatiently set aside her half-drunk coffee. Attentive waiters were on hand to help her from her chair and bow her out, but she scarcely noticed them, moving with a restless purpose that surprised her. Then, outside the dining room, she stopped.

Where was she going in such a hurry? Nowhere! The only thing she had to do all day was summon a maid to pack her trunk. Otherwise the hours stretched ahead, frustratingly empty.

Depression settled in and she wandered slowly along the corridors, looking first at the gorgeous Indian garments displayed in the brightly-lit shopping arcade, then at the sculptures and pictures that decorated the public rooms of the Taj. She understood very little of Indian culture, but she found them impressive and beautiful all the same, and they reminded her of the caves and carvings Brit had mentioned on Elephanta Island.

They must be worth seeing if he visited them whenever he was in Bombay. She could not imagine him ever wasting his time on trivia.

I wish I could have seen them, she thought, and then it occurred to her that there was absolutely nothing to stop her from accepting his invitation to take her. It would be a lot better than staying here alone all day. Or even being taken to the pool by Lola and her friends …

Strangely enough, this last thought decided her. She wanted neither to spend the day in their company nor for Brit to see her with them.

Why do you mind what he thinks of you? she wondered, but did not stop to provide an answer.

He would be in the lobby in about an hour, he had said. Well, perhaps she would be there too. It was possible, of course, that he had not been serious in his invitation; she must be prepared for that.

Elise checked her watch, the feverish purposefulness returning. An hour, he had said. It must be almost that already and if she wasn't there, he would set off on his own.

Her mind made up, she hurried to her room to collect the few things she would need for a day out.

She saw him leaning against a pillar the moment she returned to the lobby, and a pulse started jumping in her throat.

Why she was suddenly so nervous she did not know. After all, she had travelled all the way from Cairo with him. But there was a reason for that – getting home to her husband and s on. This was purely for pleasure. And she was still unsure how seriously his invitation had been meant. Even seeing him in the lobby now, he certainly did not give the impression of a man waiting for her – rather that he was there for a purpose.

Impatient with herself, she started across the lobby. He looked up and saw her, but still his eyes gave nothing away: no surprise, no pleasure, only that infuriating mild amusement.

‘Well, hello.'

‘Hello!'