Sugar in the Morning (11 page)

“It is,” I said briefly.

“You must tell me all about England some time,” she said immediately, but I had the feeling that she was not really much interested. “My mother comes from Maryland,” she added. “We always go to the States when we’re not here.”

“You’re lucky,” I responded. “I’ve often longed to see New York and Washington—”

“I suppose Port-of-Spain seems pretty small to you!” she rattled on. “I mean Society here is pretty limited, and so on.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I said honestly. “I didn’t exactly live in society in London. I spent most of my time earning my living
—
”

“But you’re
rich
!”
she exclaimed.

“I won some money,” I agreed dryly. “Before that I had nothing but what I earned.”

“Goodness!” Her eyes bulged with excitement and I wondered, too late, if I had been wise to tell her, but it was the truth, and what could be dangerous in that?

“I thought, your bringing Patience here with you and all, that you were accustomed to being rich!” she gasped. Another idea occurred to her and she turned quickly and asked: “Does Daniel know
?
”

‘Yes, of course he does!”

“How odd,” she said slowly. ‘You see, Daniel and I have always been that way about each other, if you know what I mean?” I thought I knew only too well, but I said nothing, wondering where this was leading us. “I thought perhaps he was interested in giving you a whirl because of your money. After all, this estate marches with his and he’s always wanted to see it as one place. Between you and me, he was very disappointed when my parents decided to sell now of all times. He was so sure that it would be settled on me for my dowry
—I
mean, I suppose I shouldn’t be talking to you
like this, but we’re going to be
friends,
aren’t we?”

“I hope so,” I said simply.

“I mean, it would be so nice, wouldn’t it? You know,” she giggled, “I don’t really believe you like Daniel much, do you? Has he been beastly to you?”

“Of course not
!”
I said bluntly. I wished she would go away, but she showed no signs of doing so. She pushed open the door of my temporary bedroom and pulled me in, shutting it so quickly behind me that I felt trapped. There was no sign of Patience anywhere and I must admit that I had been looking forward to her salty good humour and discussing the estate with her. Pamela made a poor substitute and I was a bit afraid I would end by telling her so.

“Tell me,” she said now, curling her feet underneath her as she sat on the end of my bed, “what were you and Daniel doing when Daddy and I came along?”

“What did it look like?” I returned coolly.

“Naughty!” she said with a laugh in her throat. “I know Daniel, don’t forget! He was just as likely to have been feeling cross as romantic!”

That came too close for comfort. “I think I ought to change my dress,” I said quickly.

“I guess so,” she agreed pleasantly. “Just so long as you don’t take Daniel too seriously! None of us do, you know!”

I shut the door behind her with a heavy feeling of relief. She was such a nice, anxious, pretty litt
l
e thing that I couldn’t dislike her, or so I told myself. Anyone who was so anxious to please ought to be liked
!
Besides, if I didn’t like her, I was honest enough to know it was because I was jealous of her. As if I didn’t know that she and Daniel were
that
way about each other! As if it wasn’t obvious! So why had he kissed me and spoilt everything for me, just because he had been annoyed with me? Why?

I pulled a clean dress out of my suitcase and laid it out on the bed, wishing that I had brought something with a longer skirt, a
much
longer skirt. But everything I had was short and snappy. Such dresses looked good on me and I had no need to hide my legs. At least so I had always thought. Now, after Daniel’s remarks, I was not so sure. If he called me “long legs” again I would scream! On the other hand, if he didn’t, what would I do then? I sniffed and then sniffed again, appalled that I should be so near tears for so little reason. I was glad when a knock at the door heralded Patience and called to her to come in. She came in, beaming her usual smile at me.

“I’se been busy downstairs,” she informed me gleefully. “If we’se co
m
in’ here to live, I’se goin’ to scrub the whole place
!”
She glanced round the room with a housewifely air. “Better than some up here!” she admitted with a sniff. “But the kitchen is real bad, Miss ’Milla, real bad!”

I allowed her to pull off my soiled dress, revelling in the luxury of being waited on. “Is you bathin’ now?” she asked me. I nodded and she hurried off to run my
bath
and to, make sure that
I
had a towel and some brand-new soap that nobody else had used before
me.

By the time I was dressed and ready to go downstairs, my ruffled feelings had been soothed by Patience’s ministrations and the gorgeous hot water that had even succeeded in allowing me to forget that I was ravenous for a few minutes. It gave me confidence, too, to know that I was looking my best, even if my best was nothing to write home about when the competition was the obvious prettiness of Pamela Longuet.

I swept down the stairs with my head held high. I must admit I was rather glad to find only the two men in the sitting room. Mr. Longuet asked me what I would have to drink, recommending a punch of his own manufacture. I accepted the drink, knowing that basically it would be the inevitable rum, and sure enough it was, though heavily disguised by a variety of citrus fruits. “Well, my dear, what do you think?” he asked me.

“About the estate?” I didn’t want to show him how embarrassed I was by my own ignorance. “I like it very much,” I said inadequately. “Especially this house. It has a friendly atmosphere.”

Mr. Longuet smiled. “I’ve been happy here,” he agreed. “I’m not sure that sugar is a woman’s crop though. My wife has found it rather limiting, I believe.”

“And Pamela?” I couldn’t resist asking.

“Pamela worked quite happily at the refinery,” he said, glancing at Daniel to get his confirmation of this. “It’s rather different from being on one’s own for hours each da
y
in the house here.”

“I shall probably work too,” I said simply.

“Oh, indeed?” He looked surprised. “I had understood from Pamela that you were a lady of leisure,” he said with humorous undertones. “What kind of work have you done in the past?”

I told him about the travel agency and then Daniel told him all about it too, and how he had missed his connecting plane and how he still more than half thought it was my fault.

We were still arguing about this when Pamela and her mother joined us. They were dressed as twins in exac
tl
y the same dresses of soft blue material. It made them look more alike than ever, I supposed, but I couldn’t help thinking it rather affected of them and I wondered that Mrs. Longuet liked to be compared so exac
tl
y with her daughter.

Mrs. Longuet had not forgiven me for being related to Uncle Philip. Whenever there was a lull in the con
v
ersation, I could feel her eyes picking me to pieces as she fed on her dislike for my family. But she said little. Only once, when we were just settling ourselves at the table, did she bring the subject into the open again
.
“Did you know,” she asked her husband, “that Philip Ironside will be living here?”

“Yes, I did,” he answered her.

She bridled angrily and so did Pamela beside her.
“
I suppose I wasn’t told so that I couldn’t voice my objections?” she said sharply.

Her husband laughed at her quite openly. “Not quite, my dear. I thought that as we were going to be in the States, it wouldn’t matter to you what happened here. Besides, it’s silly to make too much of that trouble with Philip. It could have happened to any number of people
around here.”

“But it didn’t!” Mrs. Longuet said in wooden tones.

Her husband shrugged. “Let’s drop it, he said easily enough. He turned deliberately towards Daniel. “Did you get right round the estate? Have you seen all you want to?”

“I think so,” Daniel answered. He gave me a look o
f
enquiry that was entirely a matter of good manners and I nodded too, though everything that I had seen had become a confused muddle in my mind. It was sugar all day long, but I really didn’t seem to know very much
more about it.

“Then you’ll be contacting Aaron tomorrow?
”
Mr.
Longuet
pressed
on.

“I thought I’d give him a ring tonight,” Daniel
replied.

The whole Longuet family exchanged looks of relie
f
. Were they so anxious to be gone? I wondered why. Even Pamela was suddenly more cheerful as though she really wanted to be done. And yet it was here that her future lay. Not in this house, it was true, but wherever
Daniel was, and most of his interests were nearby in the refinery and in the Hendrycks’ estate next door.

It was a super meal. I had not eaten so well since I had come to Trinidad, for, excellent though Patience was in many ways, her culinary imagination was decidedly limited. Mrs. Longuet, however, kept a remarkably good table and I began to think that I must have misjudged her, that perhaps she didn’t resent me as much as her manner had led me to suppose, for the dinner contained all that was best of the West Indian cuisine and she had obviously gone to considerable lengths to make the meal go smoothly and to please each one of us.

We began with the famous
calaloo
soup, made of crab, okra, tomatoes and onions, and seasoned with thyme, bay leaf, and ground chili peppers. Mrs. Longuet unbent sufficiently to tell me that this was the ancestor of the famous crab gumbo of New Orleans.

“We Americans don’t like to admit it,” she said confidentially, “but it’s true nevertheless. I think this is the queen of all the Creole soups, though Pamela doesn’t like it much, do you, dear?”

Pamela screwed up her pretty face, trying to make up her mind if she did or not. “I’m not crazy about seafoods,” she said at last.

I came to the conclusion that I was crazy about them. I had never tasted a more delicious soup, and by the time we had followed it with a thick steak accompanied by little green peas and
sauté
potatoes, and baked bananas with coconut cream, I was feeling very content with life indeed. It was worth having been half starved all day with such a repast waiting.

Daniel grinned at me across the table. “I’ll bet you’ve never tasted food like this before
!
” he teased me.

“I’ve enjoyed it,” I said. “In Port-of-Spain we live mainly on corn and sweet potatoes!”

“But that’s a most unhealthy diet!” Mrs. Longuet reproached me, her interest caught.

“It’s getting near another cutting season,” her husband weighed in warningly. “I daresay that has something to do with it.”

I was
glad that
that they thought so, though when I considered the bills I had been paving for the entire household I did wonder where all the money went.

“Do you grow any of
y
our own food here?
”
I
asked.

“
Practically
everything,” Pamela answered me. “Didn’t Daniel show you
the orchards? Even our fruit comes off the estate.”

At the thought of my own orchard
, I
felt a stirring of excitement. I wished we had seen the orchards and where the vegetables were grown. I wished
I
had lingered in the flower garden in the front of the house and had en
j
oyed the fragrant beauty of the exotic plants that grew there. But all we had seen was sugar. Still, I thought, quite soon the whole place would be mine, and I pictured myself going out of the house in the early morning and picking an orange from my own tree, still warm from the morning sun, and it would taste quite different
j
ust because it was mine
!

“Do you have many orange
trees
?” I asked dreamily.

Mr. Longuet laughed. “A few. I’ve never counted them. I’m too busy counting su
g
ar canes!”

But it wouldn’t be like that with me, I vowed. The
y
could kee
p
their su
g
ar and I would keep the oranges and the other sun-kissed fruits of the orchards. And, quite s
uddenly
, I was very glad indeed to be coming to live here.

“
W
hy don’t
y
ou ring up Aaron now?” I said to Daniel, and I didn’t mind a bit when he laughed at my eager
ness.

“All right, I will,” he said.