Spell of the Island (12 page)

Both Emma and Louise were tempted to take a stroll along the beach, as they had arrived with plenty of time in hand, not having booked to dine until nine o’clock. The translucent water was shimmering in the starlight, the sand beneath their feet smooth as silk. Palms along the backshore and tamarinds, graceful and delicate, foliage fluttering in the breeze, the cooling trade-wind breeze so welcome after the heat of the day.

‘It’s fantastic!’ breathed Emma. ‘Like paradise!’

‘I’d love to live on the island,’ sighed Louise, ‘but that won’t ever be possible.’

‘No. . . .’ Paul’s face rising up before her, that twisted smile which spelt cynicism . . . and perhaps disillusionment, she mused as she recalled that he had once been let down by his fiancée.

‘I wish we had a bit longer.’ Louise was taking off her sandals to walk barefoot in the gentle sand. ‘Let’s come next year, and stay here, at the Saint Geran.’

‘It would be too expensive.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. We could come off-season, I expect.’

‘I’d like to bring Mother; she needs a break.’ Emma was holding her dress up, because she kept treading on the hem.

‘We’ll have to think about it,’ decided Louise who, thought Emma, seemed to have become more mature within a matter of days.

They made their way back, and Louise put her sandals on again. The path through the illuminated gardens was bordered by brilliant, magenta bougainvillaea and hibiscus bushes with in between smaller bushes of allamandas, golden against the vivid crimson crotons.

‘Let’s have a drink at the pool bar,’ suggested Emma after glancing at her watch. ‘We’ve still half an hour to kill.’

The bar was busy, lit by coloured lights hidden in the trees surrounding it. But, nevertheless, there were seats for everyone if they wanted them; but the two girls stood at the bar and soon were chatting to two young men who had arrived that day from the Seychelles where they had spent one week of their two-week holiday. It was a spontaneous situation, all being in the holiday mood, and it seemed not in the least out of the ordinary when the girls agreed to have dinner with the two men after one of them, Jake, had suggested it.

And so the two small tables were put together by an obliging waiter who later came to take their orders.

‘It’s nice having company.’ Bill, the younger man, dark and rugged with clear, healthy skin and a broad
smile, passed the remark as he sat opposite to Louise at the table which was conveniently close to the dance space. ‘Pity you’re both going home on Saturday.’

‘Here come the menus,’ from Jake, who had fair, faintly gingery hair and eyebrows, blue eyes and a wide, generous mouth. ‘I think I shall try the local food.’

‘The Creole dishes are hot,’ warned Louise, ‘so be careful what you choose.’

‘I happen to like hot, spicy food. . . .’ He concentrated on the menu and presently ordered meat cooked with turmeric, aniseed, hot pimentos and mango, all served with the customary saffron rice. His friend chose something more conventional—grilled steak with patisson and baby marrows.

‘I’m having
coeur de palmiste,’
decided Louise. ‘Of all the time I’ve been here I haven’t yet tried the famous palm hearts.’

‘They’re not plentiful,’ put in the waiter who had been standing by. ‘You see, the hearts have to come from a seven-year-old palm. So you see, it is a rare savoury and not always on the menu. You are in luck!’

Emma had
camarons
—freshwater prawns caught locally—and a selection of green vegetables.

The men chose the wine, a fruity white imported from France.

Between courses the four got up to dance, and it was during one of these most pleasant interludes that Emma gave a little gasp which made her partner hold her away and look at her askance.

‘My sister’s employer,’ she elucidated, ‘with his
brother and—and a friend.’ Eileen looked glorious! All heads turned to stare at the regal figure clad in slinky silver lamé with diamonds sparkling in her hair and at her throat. She wore several bracelets, too, one of exquisite sapphires and diamonds.

‘Phew!’ exclaimed Jake. ‘Are those sparklers real?’ He had followed the direction of Emma’s gaze and was now scarcely moving as he fixed his attention on the girl who was attracting so much notice, especially from the men. She had a hand on Paul’s sleeve, possessively, it seemed to Emma who decided that her evening was now at least partly spoiled. Paul had elected to bring his guests out to dinner, and it was a quirk of fate that he had chosen the same hotel as the girls. And yet, thinking about it, Emma had to own that the most exclusive and expensive hotel would be his obvious choice.

He was just sitting down at the table to which he and his companions had been conducted when he spotted Emma, and she saw his eyes widen and then narrow to mere slits. She shuddered involuntarily and then was angry that she should be affected by what was plainly his displeasure.

Did he think he owned the place!

‘Have you seen what the wind’s blown in?’ said Louise with a grimace when Emma and her partner were sitting down at the table. ‘Eileen’s making an exhibition of herself if you ask me. I should hate being the focus of attention like that! And I don’t admire Paul for escorting her in that sexy getup.’

Everyone laughed including Emma, but as her eyes caught those of the other girl her laughter died. Eileen might have been looking at a servant—and
wondering how on earth she had managed to get in here! Emma’s chin tilted, her eyes sparkled. Paul noticed the interplay and seemed both interested and amused. But there was that about him—the flexed jaw and compressed mouth—which plainly illustrated his inner anger.

‘He looks like thunder,’ commented Louise a moment later as his veneer of amusement faded. ‘I wonder what’s up with him. Maybe he’s not too happy with his girl friend’s sexy outfit after all.’

Emma said nothing; she had suddenly resolved to ignore that particular table and enjoy herself.

However, she had not reckoned with Paul’s coming over to ask her to dance. Completely taken aback, she opened her mouth to refuse, then thought better of it, because it would be in the nature of a snub and she was disinclined to do a thing like that.

She rose unsteadily, glad that Louise was dancing already with Jake. Emma was swung into Paul’s arms, and any fears she had concerning her own inadequacy were swiftly dispelled as she and he glided round the floor in perfect harmony, almost as if they were one.

For a long moment Paul remained quiet, with Emma aware of a tension which profoundly affected her nerves.

At last he spoke and his voice was harsh-edged and imperious.

‘Why didn’t you say you and Louise had a date?’

‘We hadn’t—’

‘Hadn’t?’ he snapped before she could continue. ‘Then who are these two?’

She looked up into a face taut and rather frightening. This was yet another of his many moods that went to make up the complexity of his nature. Emma was beginning to think that blanc Maritians were very strange people.

‘We’ve only just met them—well, a short while ago—at the bar,’ she explained innocently. ‘So we decided to have dinner togeth—’

‘You mean—you picked them up!’ he rasped, and she had a strong suspicion that he would dearly love to shake her . . . or something worse. ‘You actually picked up two men—in a bar?’

Count ten, Emma. . . . She wished her temper would not flare like this! But it was only with this man; no other human being had aroused in her the resentment and anger which Paul did and it suddenly occurred to her that even if—by some miracle—he fell in love with her and married her, they would without doubt lead a cat and dog life!

She said at last, marvelling at her control, ‘It really has nothing to do with you, Paul, now has it?’

If this mild manner surprised him he gave no evidence of it as he said, ‘You’re a guest in my home and, therefore, I have a right to expect you to behave with at least a small amount of decorum and propriety.’

She wanted to laugh at the stiffness which was so reminiscent of his manner with her right at the beginning, when first she was introduced to him, and she wondered if he ever unbent.

However, it behoved her to keep a straight face, and this she managed to do. Her tones were still mild when presently she answered him.

‘It was not picking up, Paul. We were all in a holiday spirit and after all, lots of people get talking in bars. We chatted and the result was that the young men suggested we all dine together.’

He was silent for a space, but she had the impression that he was gritting his teeth.

‘I invited you both out to dinner, if you remember?’ His voice was harsh and low; he suddenly drew her close, not at all gently, as another couple glided too near to them.

‘Then we had a disagreement, if you remember?’ she ended, stealing his question.

‘About nothing, as things have turned out.’

‘So you take back your accusation against my sister?’

‘I cannot recollect accusing her of anything.’

‘You
implied,
then, that she was running after Pierre.’

‘I admit I was wrong.’

‘Good heavens!’ she could not help exclaiming. ‘You are actually admitting a thing like that! There’s hope for you, yet!’ She stopped rather abruptly, staggered by her temerity. Paul looked down into her flushed face and said in a dangerously soft voice, ‘Careful, Emma. If I had you home at this moment, I’d shake you till your teeth chattered.’

‘No need to tell me that,’ she returned. ‘Your expression’s enough.’

She heard his furious intake of breath, winced as his fingers at her back pressed ruthlessly into her flesh. What a strange situation this was! Intimate, just as so many other moments had been intimate, with each saying exactly what they wanted, without
any attempt at diplomacy or a sparing of the other’s feelings.

The music stopped, and he escorted her back to her table and left her without a glance at the other three sitting there.

It was only natural that Louise should at the first opportunity ask what was going on.

‘Paul’s whole manner with you when you were dancing was odd,’ she continued when, the meal finished, they went to the powder room. ‘He seemed—sort of—proprietorial, as if he were telling you off with a vengeance.’

‘He was annoyed that we had joined Jake and Bill.’

‘Annoyed!’ Louise blinked at her, lip rouge poised in midair. ‘What the devil has it to do with him?’

Emma shrugged her shoulders.

‘He seemed to think it has, seeing I’m a guest in his home. He said he expected me to act with decorum.’

Louise stared at her strangely through the mirror.

‘There’s something I don’t understand, isn’t there, Emma?’ she said quietly.

‘That makes two of us,’ was Emma’s flat response. ‘Paul’s an enigma.’

‘He seemed rather familiar.’ Louise’s expression was unfathomable as she added slowly and deliberately, ‘He was calling you Emma almost from the beginning which surprised me exceedingly.’

Emma took a comb from her evening bag and drew it through her hair.

‘I’d rather not talk about Paul,’ she returned. ‘After Saturday we shall never see him again.’

‘Just what are you hiding?’ Louise used the lip rouge and put it away. ‘There’s something between you—’

‘No such thing!’ broke in Emma, hoping she was convincing, but she very much doubted it. ‘I don’t know how you’ve managed to get that idea.’

‘You’re not very clever at deceit, but then you’ve never had to practise it before—at least, not to my knowledge. Even now you’re blushing—’

‘Louise, please let the matter drop!’

‘You’ve fallen for him.’ A statement without a trace of bitterness or anger. ‘So now you see how dangerously attractive he is.’ She paused, but Emma, very pale now as, the colour having receded from her cheeks as swiftly as it had appeared, had nothing to say and her sister went on, ‘Paul isn’t totally immune, though. I’m sure he finds something attractive in you. Be careful, Emma, or he’ll have you doing something you’ll regret.’

Emma looked at her, thinking again how mature she had become. She said quietly, ‘As we shall be leaving the chateau on Saturday there won’t be much time for me to do anything I’ll regret, will there?’

Louise allowed that to pass without comment.

‘You haven’t denied anything I’ve said—oh, except you were very emphatic about there being nothing between you. But otherwise, well, you haven’t made any protest so I presume I’m right in what I’ve said?’

‘Once and for all, Louise, I am not talking about
Paul! Come on, the men will be waiting for us; we promised to have a flutter with them in the Casino.’

‘Roulette? it terrifies me!’

‘Nonsense; you can’t possibly lose much if you put your counters on the corners. You have four chances of winning that way.’

Louise looked at her in astonishment.

‘How do you know this? You’ve never yet seen the inside of a Casino.’

‘I learned it from a card I picked up in the lobby here. It’s in my bag if you want to read it. It tells you—wait, I’ll show it to you.’ She took it from her bag and handed it to Louise. ‘You can’t go wrong because they’ve given you a diagram, and below are the stakes and odds.’

Louise took a cursory look and handed the card back.

‘That’s all very well until you get inside, and then what? We’re going to look darned silly playing with a few chips placed on the corners while the experienced gamblers use stacks.’

‘I daresay they are used to novices like us,’ returned Emma who was in fact looking forward to the flutter. She might have beginner’s luck, but even if she didn’t, it would be an experience she might never have again.

It was to transpire that she won almost every time, and when at last they all came away from the table, she had won rupees to the equivalent of twenty-two pounds.

‘Aren’t you lucky,’ commented Jake, ‘I’ve lost about five pounds.’

‘I’ve lost too,’ from Bill. ‘Oh, well, never mind.
Lucky at gambling unlucky in love—’ He stopped and laughed. ‘Only a quotation, Emma, and I believe I have it wrong anyway.’

Unlucky in love. . . .

Emma felt the prick of tears and prayed that Saturday would come quickly.