Stormy Haven (30 page)

Dr. Melford was clever and, in his way, rather ruthless. His concern was only for Stephen; if her suffering were a means to his end, she must suffer. Stephen was not only his friend; he was a man of superb brain and physique who, i
n
the course of his duties, had developed a small defect that could and must be righted.

She had gained the impression that the doctor was unmarried, that he had never known an urge toward marriage. How, then, was he to judge that she was in some way important to Stephen? The evidence he had advanced seemed impossibly slim: Stephen had confessed to getting himself engaged, had written the letter to Colin after concluding that he would prefer to go through life as he was rather than risk some damage to his sight; he had come to the
Meridian
this morning against his will. Viewed objectively and dispassionately, Dr. Melford
’
s plan was a chance throw in a game that could not but go against her from the start.

“
Be yourself,
”
he said. But was he honestly of the opinion that Melanie Paget, who had spent a night alone with a completely unroused Stephen, in his house at Mindoa, could persuade him, by propinquity and unfailing sweetness, to reverse his decision? She was embarking on a hopeless quest.

At that stage in her thoughts the stewardess came in with a tray. Doing the accepted thing from habit, Melanie told her she was leaving the boat and gave her a tip. A few minutes after the woman had made a soft-footed exit, Miss Hogg appeared. A plunge into a description of her adventures ashore was stopped by the sight of Melanie
’
s cases open upon the floor of the cabin.

Melanie forestalled her inquiries.
“
Some friends who live in Alexandria sought me out. They
’
ve asked me to stay with them till the next boat.
”

“
How very odd, but how lucky for you. If my funds hadn
’
t run low I
’
d stay on myself. I made a mistake in setting out on my world tour from the West. Well
—
”
with a good-natured shr
u
g
“
—it
’
s too late now. If I never see the pyramids, I
’
ve talked with a camel driver who
’
s lived near them so long that he
’
s taken their shape! I
’
ll help you pack.
”

Miss Hogg was an expert packer; during the last few months she had had plenty of practice. As she folded garments and tucked an odd shoe here or there, she related her morning
’
s experiences.

“
It
’
s an interesting town but not spectacular—they seem to have obliterated most of the old when they built the new. Your friends will be living in the eastern suburbs. Quite beautiful, I believe. You go there by a corniche road from the Place Muhammed Ali. There was a man who took me up into a tower and pointed out the landmarks and the western arm of the delta. Said he had seventeen children. Incredible, isn
’
t it?
”
This was merely an expression of opinion, for she continued,
“
Hardly any women were around—just one or two in the sidestreets wearing veils or those grim
burkas
.
The rich people have men running their houses, so
I
suppose they keep their women solely for pleasure and childbearing. Simplifies life, doesn
’
t it? Think of the leisure you
’
d have in a potentate
’
s
harem!
”

Miss Hogg would keep up this kind of commentary for hours, so Melanie had little compunction in framing no replies. She locked the cases and rang for a steward to take them away, put cosmetics and other oddments into her handbag. The corridor had become noise with the hurried, clicking footsteps of returning sightseers. On deck the bell-like call to lunch was sounded, and followed by the scamper of juvenile feet.

Melanie held out her hand.
“
Goodbye, Miss Hogg.
I
hope you
’
ll enjoy the rest of the trip.
”

“
Goodbye, my dear. Get the best out of Alexandria. Life
’
s awfully short, you know.
”

When Melanie emerged on deck few people were around. A straggler was hastening aboard with bead-hung hawkers in his wake, but most of the passengers were in the saloon, attacking a hearty lunch.

She stood looking over at the quay, seeing only the blur of color and unceasing movement. She was like gossamer borne on hot, uncertain winds and deposited wherever fate willed, to be whipped up again, possibly, and hurled somewhere else. She belonged nowhere.

She saw a taxi thrusting its way cautiously among the traders, saw it stop and Dr. Melford get out. With a conscious tensing of her sinews she went down the gangway to meet him.

“
You
’
re ready? Good.
”
He took her arm, led her to the taxi, from which bowed the soiled fez of the driver.
“
Your luggage is at the customs office but they won
’
t release it without sight of your passport, and
I
had to leave that in town for the visa. It may be a couple of days before you get your things, but you can buy whatever you need. There
’
s plenty of stuff in the shops.
”

They moved on, were bawled at by a d
o
ck policeman for bringing a car to a forbidden area, and eventually crawled away from the
Meridian
toward the center of the glaring white town.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

They
lunched at a
magnificent restaurant that had a mosaic front yard beyond the sun lounge, and many grotesque and graceful palms to relieve the excessive azure of the sky. They were attended by a waiter in a white, enveloping uniform and a red fez.

As a companion in her distress, Dr. Melford was calming. He had dwelt in so many strange places that Alexandria, with its tincture of Europeanism, was no more peculiar to him than provincial England. He knew the streets and the people better than he knew those of present-day London, and, quite obviously, to him there was nothing extraordinary in eating sumptuous but indescribable food in the quiet, luxurious interior of what looked like a palace from an Eastern fairy tale.

His inner thoughts about the girl he had induced to come ashore remained obscure. When the powerful siren of the ship boomed over the city, he gave her an encouraging nod.

“
Twenty-past two. There goes the
Meridian
!
You
’
re safe.
”

She knocked ash from her cigarette, helped it with a matchstick to disintegrate upon the small, decorated ashtray.
“
I
’
d feel safer on the edge of a volcano. This seems to me to be a ghastly mistake.
”

“
I
’
ve an idea that if it should be so, we
’
ll find it out very quickly. That wasn
’
t Steve you saw this morning
,
but it will undoubtedly be Steve you
’
ll encounter late this afternoon.
”

“
I still can
’
t think how you
’
re going to explain my presence in your house.
”

“
My explanation won
’
t matter; he
’
s more likely to concentrate upon what it hides.
”
His smile now was understanding.
“
I
’
m not so altogether cold-blooded about this as you think. I wouldn
’
t have put you up to it if
I
hadn
’
t been fairly certain of your ability to stand it. You
’
re convinced he doesn
’
t love you; I
’
m banking on the reverse being the case. If I
’
m wrong, you
’
ll at least have learned the worst.
”

“
I learned it at Mindoa.
”

“
Well, we
’
ll verify it. There
’
s one thing I
’
ve omitted. For the love of Mike don
’
t refer to the eyestrain unless he does.
”

“
It looks as if it
’
s going to be dangerous to talk at all.
”

“
Perhaps, at first. Let him deal with everything in his own way.
”
He got rid of his cigarette.
“
I
’
ll take you for a walk. We
’
ll use up an hour or so.
”

Melanie
’
s zest for knowledge and experience had waned. Incuriously she threaded the wide, dazzling streets with him. Had she come straight from Europe the impact of this polyglot humanity, the modern, semi-Oriental buildings, the minarets and cupolas seen at the end of narrow byways against a theatrical sky, might have been bewildering. But she had toured Bombay and Port Said, lived on the overpopulated island of Mindoa.

They turned into one of the narrower alleys, where biblical-looking old men with beards and white turbans squatted in cafe doorways, and lively brown children laughed and stared and begged for coins to buy oranges from the ragged vendor who knelt there, arranging his fruit upon a palm-leaf mat. Without intentionally listening, Melanie heard Dr. Melford describe some of the diseases prevalent among the poor. Here, where it was warm and dry, the children could be
disgracefully undernourished and yet draw sustenance from the sun. But if illness caught up with them it was too often fatal.

They reached a main thoroughfare and he waited while she visited a store to buy immediate necessities. She had only English money, but it was accepted with such eagerness that she left the shop knowing she had paid about twice the amount the purchases were worth.

Dr. Melford called a taxi.
“
Now we
’
ll go to the house,
”
he said.
“
There
’
s nothing so effective as a cup of tea in a cool room to steady the nerves. Steve won
’
t be there till after five.
”
Long, ornamental gardens lay along each side of the road out of town. Tall, balconied houses peeped between date palms and nut trees, and the sandy soil of the flower beds was hidden under a weight of scarlet, white and purple blossom. Dr. Melford
’
s house was similar to the others, much too large for one man, roomy even for a sizable family. But the company was generous to its executives, Melanie remembered wryly. The taxi angled between white pillars, curbed between clipped cypresses and stopped in front of a covered, columned portico. Dr. Melford settled with the driver, got out his key.

Since leaving England about ten months ago, Melanie had entered many tiled halls, all of them beneficently cool and slightly forbidding. This one was no exception. The doors from it were tall and painted white, and the staircase was doubtless concealed behind one of them.

Melanie heard a grunt from the doctor, looked, with him, at the felt hat upon the gleaming brown table. Beside the hat lay a pair of dark glasses. Her heart moved in her breast, and she stared in frantic and mute appeal at the doctor.

“
Stay here,
”
he whispered.

The injunction was unnecessary. Seized with paralysis, she watched him go to the nearest door, open it and enter the room. She heard him say,
“
You
’
re home early, Steve. Was it a short meeting?
”

Stephen
’
s voice came crisp and clear.
“
I
don
’
t know.
I
didn
’
t attend.
”

“
But weren
’
t they to discuss the new site at Mat-Shenaba?
”

“
I
believe so.
”

“
They can
’
t set about that without you.
”

“
They
’
ll have to. I
’
ve had enough of sites, past and future.
”

“
That
’
s a new slant, from you. Not resigning, are you?
”

“
Not yet.
”