Plantation Doctor (16 page)

She went on with Claud, exclaimed over the state-room size of the cabins and their beautiful carpets, the sumptuousness of pink
and white bathrooms; emerged on deck to admire the swimming pool and breathe cool air to steady her nerves. But already the evening was tarnished. Claud’s anger did not abate with its usual swiftness and his remarks were curt and almost pettish. It was not till the gong jangled for dinner that he smiled with some of his old nonchalance.

“The call to tables, my sweet. I hope you’re sitting with me.”

But at the opening to the dining saloon they were separated, Claud to partner a radiant Marceline, and Lyn to be accompanied to her table by one of the Denton men with whom she was only slightly acquainted.

The food was as delectable as Mrs. Denton had promised, the wines were perfect, the gossip, bandied between the four tables, was mellow and happy. Portholes were wide, admitting a soft humid wind through the wire
mesh screens which had been fitted for the duration of the stay in the tropics.

When at last Mrs. Denton rose, the other women followed her. Lyn escaped from the smoke-wreathed saloon and went with the two girls to one of the cabins; but presently she slipped out on deck, alone. She could see that the men had collected in a group at the bows, that some of them bent forward to watch the luminous colored fish just below the surface of the water.

Part of the floodlit deck was marked out for games and the rest was free for dancing. Already the indispensable gramophone was in action, emitting a Latin-American rhythm which was popular in the district at the moment; even the Africans chanted it.

Lyn moved along, just out of range of the overhead lamps, and looked over the rail. She, too, saw the leaping fish, and a few yards away in the blackness she discerned a hollow-log canoe packed tight with gaping boys. The whites of their eyes and shining teeth were strangely disembodied. After a while they became conscious of her scrutiny and silently paddled away, probably to the other side of the ship.

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

While gazing
over the dark ocean, Lyn heard a step She twisted to confront Adrian. He was holding a dark, three-quarter coat and before she could protest had dropped it about her shoulders.

“
I didn’t know if you’d brought a wrap of any kind,” he said, “but I was pretty sure you’d be out here without one. T
h
is belongs to my aunt.”

“Thank you.”

She stood there uncertainly, wanting to walk back into the light, wanting more to remain where she was, in the shadows with Adrian. He was not tired tonight, though his mouth was pulled in and his eyes were inscrutable. But all of him, his lean face, his wide shoulders, the strong, clever hands, were heartbreakingly near and dear. She knew an intolerable yearning to lean close to him, to feel the hardness of his white jacket against her cheek and the touch of his hand on her hair. The longing was so intense that the breath caught in her throat and her hand sought and clung to the rail.

Entirely unconscious of her reactions to his presence, he took
u
p a lounging position beside her, his back to the rest of the deck, shutting it out.

“Quite a night, isn’t it?” he said. “What do you think of the
Golden Ray
?”

“It’s a beautiful boat.”

“How would you like a trip in her?”

“I haven’t thought about it.”

“Come now,” with edged banter, “don’t tell me that Claud took you on a tour of inspection without audibly dreaming about the two of you in a yacht on a languorous ocean, a thousand miles from nowhere. That wouldn’t be Claud.”

“It
was
Claud,” she said firmly.

“Dear, dear, you’re snapping. You lovers didn’t quarrel, I hope?”

She grasped the rail with both hands and stared at the winking lights of Palmas. “Please don’t, Adrian.”

After a short silence he said, “All right,
if it’s a sore
subject. Why did you drift out here alone?”

“Not for any particular reason. It’s good
to
feel
the
sea air all around one.”

“You’re not worried over something?”

“Well
...
slightly.”

“Tell me about it.”

Lyn heard the note of command in his voice and looked at him with a gladness that was tempered
by exasperation that he should deem himself entitled to her confidence while he remained for ever aloof. He lowered, rested his arms beside hers so that their faces were nearly level.

“Come on, Lynden. Open up.”

For a further few seconds she hesitated, hating and loving him for the cool, mocking sweetness with which he pronounced her name. Then she told him about the second letter from Mr. Latimer, and the old man’s desire that she visit Akasi to collect details about Mrs
.
Latimer’s stay there.

“He doesn’t realize what he’s asking,” she finished. “He can’t imagine anything wilder than the New Forest—but I can’t disappoint him.”

“To some degree, you’ll have to. You yourself can’t go. There have already been heavy rains over the mountains inland and Akasi is in the drainage belt. The swamps are negotiated by a series of crude bridges which are always in a half-rotting state and dangerous as hell. One wouldn’t count the obstacles if lives were at stake, but it would not be fair to commission anyone to make the journey for such a purpose. You do see that?”

“Of course.”

His sideways glance was keen. “You sound doubtful. I think I’d better have your word right now that you won’t leave Denton except to board a liner for home.”

The words and his crisp light tone were fingers squeezing her heart. The scene before her eyes blurred, the lights shattered into thousands of sparkling splinters. Like a taunt came a long-drawn love lyric from the gramophone.

“You needn’t worry. I won’t go to Akasi,” she said, low-voiced.

“That’s a half-promise, anyway. I don’t want to have to do any more abducting.” He paused, then spoke more quietly and deliberately. “Has it occurred to you during the past weeks that if Robert Grayson had met you at Cape Bandu and escorted you most of the way to Akasi, you might have gone through some terrible experiences?”

“Yes, it has, several times. But I’d have missed other nasty experiences.”

“Such as falling in love with someone who isn’t capable of your own depth of feeling?”

Lyn steeled herself against the sharp, wounding mockery. Seemingly he couldn’t keep off the subject. “If you like,” she said.

“It’s something,” he remarked abruptly, “if you realize where you’re heading.”

This was a matter which Lyn could not pursue. Yet for a moment she longed to flash round upon him and sweep Claud for ever from his thoughts.

“My destination is one thing I’m quite certain about,” she answered hardily.

“And you’d rather I kept to the point—which happens to be your employer’s thoughtless demands. Very well.” One shoulder lifted carelessly. “I’m acquainted with the public officer for the Akasi district. I gathered from Robert Grayson that Mrs. Latimer’s eccentricities were well known, and no one gains a more intimate knowledge of the hinterland villages and the few white people in them than a district officer. I’ll get in touch with him through his office at Freetown and request a detailed report about the woman and her activities. That will have to satisfy Mr. Latimer.”

Lyn murmured her thanks. She saw the curling white rims of the waves as they lipped along the sand, heard shouts as a canoe beached and was hauled up to rest under the leaning palms. The smells of palm oil and spice were strong on the breeze.

“I’m glad I’ve been to West Africa,” she said, as though to herself.

“You haven’t left the country yet,” he reminded her, “but maybe these days your mind is mostly elsewhere. It helps, doesn’t it?”

Again the undertone of sarcasm. How weary she had grown of fencing.

“I suppose a doctor can’t avail himself of that consolation.”

“In the tropics one doesn’t peer too far ahead. The dangers are many and ever-present.”

“Yet you’re continually reminding the Denton men to look to the future.” She turned towards him casually. “Doesn’t your philosophy extend to yourself?”

“I wouldn’t be averse to living in England for the rest of my life.”

She moved within the warmth of the coat, glanced fleetingly upwards at the unrevealing, sherry-brown eyes.

“At Wideacres?” she asked softly and| reverted to her former position at the rail. It was safer to cast one’s remarks at the edge of the ocean than to risk a steely stare that would wrench at one’s being. “Mrs
.
Denton mentioned that you had a house in Sussex. Aren’t you ever going to live in it?”

Swiftly and to the point came his reply. “I shall if I marry, but not otherwise.”

Lyn said, “Oh,” and was silent.

Other noises impinged upon the night. Dancing had begun, a couple were playing deck tennis and some sort of competition was causing a minor riot.

“Shall we dance?” said Adrian. Then: “Perhaps not, if you have to shed the coat. You’re not a hundred per cent yet.”

“But I want to dance. I’m not perspiring.”

He didn’t put a hand on her brow as he would have done in the hospital. They moved up the deck. Adrian threw the coat over the back of a chair and held her lightly as their feet responded to the music. Both Marceline and Hazel were dancing and so were Mr. and Mrs. Baird. One of the younger men mock-mournfully glided round clasping a cushion.

At the end of the dance Lyn was appropriated by someone else; in fact she danced most of the evening, but none of the men had the tensile strength, the magnetism, the particular fragrance of Adrian. She saw him with his aunt, with Hazel, with a group of men and with Marceline. At midnight coffee and snacks were offered, and from various comments Lyn learned that it was intended to continue the party till daybreak; the whole gang were taking Mrs. Denton at her word. The prospect appalled Lyn. Her legs were weak and she had the shivery, half-sick sensation which is a symptom of fatigue. She just wasn’t up to this type of festivity.

She carried Mrs. Denton’s coat along to the cabin, hung it up in a wardrobe and pulled on her own wrap. She would have liked to slide down on to the bed and snap off the light. But as Mrs. Denton came in she contrived a smile.

“
Wel
l
, Lynden
,”
said the older woman with a contented sigh, “this is the first time I’ve been close enough to you to speak with you. What’s the matter, child? You look ready to weep!”

“I’m not. It’s a grand party.”

“But when you’re worn out the glamour’s gone and all you want is your bed. Is that it? I admit to a similar feeling myself, though I did call Adrian a spoilsport for making me leave now. He’s looking for you, by the way. You’re going home too. He said you must have had enough.”

“Are all the others staying on?”

“It seems so—to the bacon and eggs I promised them. I love to see young people enjoying themselves.” She picked up her bag. “We must find Adrian.”

“You won’t have far to search,” he said from the doorway. “Are you both ready?”

“We are, my dear, but it’s a pity to drag you away. You’re not in the least tired.”

“That’s all you know. Besides, I have a duty to the patients.” He was right inside the cabin and his expression had become angular. “What is it, Lyn?”

“Nothing at all. Why?”

“You’re white.” Irritably he flung out a hand. “The more feminine a woman is the less sense she seems to use. Why the deuce did you have to burn yourself out? Sit down and I’ll get you a drink.”

“I don’t need one
...
honestly. I’m perfectly able to go with you.”

“Do as you’re told,” he said roughly and pressed the steward’s bell.

Mrs. Denton’s mouth had compressed its well-cut lines, her eyes, exceptionally clear and bright for a woman of her age, glittered like jewels.

“Adrian, don’t talk to Lyn like that. A girl who’s pale and tired needs sympathy, not bullying.”

He took not the slightest notice.

The steward appeared and was asked to bring whisky. Adrian, his face dark and withdrawn, stood waiting till the tray arrived. Then he half-filled the small glass and held it out to Lyn. She shook her head.

“I couldn’t drink it, Adrian.”

“Don’t be a little fool. Get it down.”

She had to take the glass, but after the rich food and excitement of the evening the very smell of the spirits repelled her.

Mrs. Denton came between them, slim and regal. “You needn’t force yourself to drink it, Lyn,” She looked at Adrian. “When a doctor gets angry without provocation it’s a sign that a holiday is overdue. Lyn’s just sleepy. She doesn’t need a stimulant.”

His nostrils thinned unpleasantly. “Allow me to know best, my dear Aunt. The climate affects the blood, and fever lowers the resistance to chills. We are about to drive fifteen miles through cool, damp night air, and I insist that Lyn finishes the drink before we start.”

“Of course I will,” Lynn murmured in distress.

“She can have an extra wrap,” said Mrs. Denton.

Adrian ignored this. He remained near the door, cold and implacable, till Lyn had somehow gulped down the contents of the glass. His anger was palpable but well under control. His aunt was angry as well—angry and bewildered—but she was too much mistress of her emotions to attempt to cross him further. Had Lyn been less disturbed she could not have helped being aware of a similarity between them at that moment.

The three of them went out on deck, answered a few good nights and transferred to the launch. The atmosphere was chilly and drenching, but in no time they were up
on the jetty and getting into the car. Mrs. Denton sat with Lyn in the back, gave her a reassuring smile and one of her gentle pats, but said nothing. The car wound up from the port, plunged into the darkness of the forest.

Within twenty minutes Adrian was helping Lyn out on to the path, striding up the steps into her living-room to switch on the lights.

“Just in case there’s
a
dead rat around,” he
explained
c
ynically.
“There isn’t though.”

Hurriedly, she said, “Adrian, I’m so sorry
...
”

“Forget it—my aunt will. It was my fault, anyway, for nearly losing my temper. Go straight to bed and lie as late as you can in the morning.”

“But I feel so unhappy at causing trouble between you and Mrs. Denton.”

“You haven’t caused trouble.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be nice to her and put things right. Get into your cot.”

A strange, imperfect bliss stole over Lyn. She was too exhausted to show him the usual locked face; he saw it illumined, the blue eyes warm and pleading for understanding, the red lips parted. He withdrew his hand.