The Primrose Bride (24 page)

“
No. Only tennis.
”

“
There
’
s a course here, but part of it suddenly subsided several months ago—there was an underground spring, or something. Our tennis courts were eaten alive by land crabs.
”

“
I haven
’
t seen any crabs.
”

“
They come in plagues, like the cockroaches, ants and mosquitoes. Our only persistent pest is the lizard
...
and boredom. I don
’
t mind lizards.
”

“
And you can
’
t bother to do much about boredom.
”
Karen smiled at her.
“
Have you noticed how difficult it is, once you
’
ve set a path for yourself, to move in any other direction
?
”

“
I
’
m so terribly old,
”
said Rita,
“
that I
’
ve noticed everything and experienced practically everything, too. Maybe if there were
...”
She broke off abruptly, and then said offhandedly,
“
That silly woman has provided flowers for our hair. Can you beat that?
”

Apparently the men did not consider Mrs. Rawling
’
s idea silly. Even Andrew played up. He came over and dropped to the grass beside Karen, showed her the waxen white gardenia he had chosen.
The
short stem was wired with nylon.

“
It goes behind your ear,
”
he said.
“
South Seas fashion.
”

“
But not that ear, Andrew,
”
drawled Rita.
“
On Nemaka, the girl who has a sweetheart wears her flower over the left ear; the girl with no sweetheart over the right.
”

“
I believe that
’
s so. Well, Karen certainly has a sweetheart,
”
stated Andrew lightly,
“
so you
’
d better turn your head, little one, and let me fix the thing correctly.
”

The fact that others had witnessed the small episode and laughed indulgently jarred Karen. Rita was right. The flowers looked right on Nemakan girls, with their brown skin and black hair; on white people they were out of place, almost self-conscious. She was judging by the other women
’
s
appearance; she had forgotten that she was much younger
than
they, that her hair
’
s golden blondeness and her own tanned skin were an excellent foil to the unearthly whiteness of the gardenia.

The goods were packed, the cars moved on. It was typical of Andrew that he should draw out to the head of the column and speed well ahead.
For a time no one in the car voiced more than a remark or two about the pleasantness of the atmosphere even though it was almost midday. Villages sped by, they stopped to greet a headman, and drove on
through
one of Clive Vaughan
’
s forests. Andrew pointed out old sandalwood trees among the cultivated teak. No one ever destroyed a sandalwood, it seemed, though occasionally some of them were felled and sent to the mainland, for the manufacture of intricate pictures and boxes for the tourist trade.

They were now on the north side of the island, and as the crow flies not more than five or six miles from Government Town. But Oponui stood in the way, a conical peak clothed in forest, and the shortest road—a rough one through plantations—was fourteen miles. Today they were taking the coast road the whole way.

Mrs. Rawling had arranged a short entertainment before lunch. As they entered a wide village street, girls in sarongs with leis about their necks waved graceful hands as if inviting the visitors to stop wherever they chose. Then the girls formed into a square and sat cross-legged on the worn grass until the guests were seated on the log forms provided.

Their dance began in that position, with sinuous movements from the waist and the curling of their hands above their heads. Almost imperceptibly they rose to their feet, and a moment later they drifted away. Apparently they were merely a preliminary, to whet the appetite. The main performers were men who juggled, turned somersaults and sweated profusely. At moments Karen found herself more interested in the ramshackle houses which lined the streets. Bare, among the trees, they would have looked like symmetrical heaps of dried-up vegetation, but they were by no means bare. Huge fruits and pans of grain were spread on the roofs to dry; arms of green and pink banana
s
hung in the verandas and over the veranda rails drooped an amazing variety of begonias and ferns and trailing geraniums. It was odd, she thought, that among so many trees and wild flowers the women should put themselves out to grow more in petrol tins and even in canned fruit tins.

But there was no doubt that the Nemakans loved flowers. They wore them in strings round their necks, in crowns on their hair, in anklets and even in belts; and many of the blossoms were only distantly related to the plentiful gardenia and rose-colored hibiscus.

By the time the entertainment was over and copious thanks had been spoken, Karen
’
s legs were beginning to itch unbearably. In the car, as they moved to the picnic rendezvous beyon
d
the village, she couldn
’
t help but scratch. And then she looked down and saw them, dozens of huge red ants, coursing about her feet and up to her calves. She gave a stifled scream, Andrew braked, and within seconds he had her out of the car and was sweeping her feet and legs free of the pests. The red bites were given a dose of neat antiseptic, and the car got under way again.

Austin laughed.
“
You
’
ll have to take to drink, Karen. They used to bite me when I first came, but it seems they don
’
t care for the taste of whisky in the blood.
”

“
Those houses back there must be ant-ridden,
”
she said, shuddering.
“
And they
’
re not even nice little black ants.
”

“
The villagers are immune, or nearly,
”
Andrew said.
“
Over in Government Town we have to treat chair and table legs with ant-paste at certain times. It keeps the bugs away from the food.
”
His sideways smile at her was companionable.
“
There
’
s a bottle of antiseptic in every car for emergencies, and when we go some way from town we take a first-aid kit.
”

“
I
’
ve noticed there
’
s one in my car. I
’
m glad you don
’
t have snakes; I think I might lose my head if I got snakebite.
”

“
We do have a few scorpions,
”
Austin offered.
“
They
’
re nasty, but I
’
ve never heard of their bite killing anyone.
”

“
Most reassuring,
”
Karen said.
“
Shall we talk about books?
”

But by now they had arrived at the beach where they were to have lunch. Some of the men were already shedding their clothes down to briefs and taking a plunge in the brilliant blue sea, and a few women joined them, though it seemed to be tacitly agreed that the women
’
s job was to set out the gargantuan feast Mrs. Rawling had prepared and brought in large picnic coolers.

No doubt by arrangement, a quartet of islanders with musical instruments appeared from the trees. They sat down and tuned up, began quietly to play island melodies while the food was served and eaten. To Karen
’
s amusement, not only little boys but young men and women stole on to the fringe of the group and smilingly held out banana leaves for food. There was ample for everyone; when the trunk of one car had been emptied another was opened.

Singing followed the food, and some people unashamedly went to sleep. Mrs. Rawling had said that after a rest there would be events in the surf. Karen, already drowsy, wondered how she would feel when evening came; she wished she could learn the knack of a good sleep after lunch, as others did.

Andrew, lying on his back a couple of feet away from her, spoke softly.
“
There
’
s something about a mile inland from here that I
’
d like to show you. How about it?
”

She was suddenly aware of the beating of her heart.
“
Are we allowed to steal away?
”

“
Look at them; we
’
ll be back before they even notice our absence. Come on.
”

They departed casually, treading over the white sand towards the road as if taking a stroll. They got into the car, and Karen was suddenly acutely conscious of the empty back seat. Strange she should feel this sense of intimacy; she had known nothing quite like it at the house.

Perhaps Andrew was aware of her slight tension, for he said easily,
“
This is why I insisted you bring a hat. There
’
s quite a walk at the end of the track and the sun is blistering, even on a coolish day like this. I meant to bring you over here on your first Sunday, but that was the day we spent at Hill Lodge.
”
Nothing in his tone to indicate that he was recalling any of the events at Hill Lodge.

“
It
’
s very wild just here,
”
she remarked awkwardly.

“
The main traffic is the ox-cart, though most of the officials have to tour the island occasionally for some reason or another.
”
He braked beside a wide footpath which climbed the hill.
“
Here we are. Put the scarf about your shoulders and I
’
ll get your hat.
”

It was a fairly steep climb but not a long one. They arrived at a worn, grassy plateau and a most surprising sight. There were two long stucco buildings with palm-thatch roofs; dozens of children playing among low parallel bars and wooden horses or sitting round rough tables under the bread-fruit and lemon trees.

A little girl shrieked,
“
Tuan Pappa!
”
and dashed into the nearest building. Others looked shy, but most of them smiled and clapped their hands. Andrew waved to them.
“
Hallo, there. Where
’
s Pappa Nimal?
”

Treble voices replied, unintelligibly, but Andrew nodded as if he understood. An old man came through a door, a brown, wizened man in crumpled canvas trousers and
a
faded pink shirt. His sparse hair was white, his face like an outsize walnut, but his pleased smile and half-bow showed that he appreciated the honor of Andrew
’
s visit. When Andrew shook his hand the man looked tiny beside him.

“
Karen, this is Dr. Nimal, who runs the Home. He retired once, but we brought him back and he
’
s promised to stay here for good. Doctor, this is my wife.
”

“
What a great pleasure, madam,
”
said the old man ceremoniously.
“
Many times I have told Tuan Eliot that he
s
hould marry, and now he has done so. Please
...
come in out of the sun.
”

“
We haven
’
t very long, I
’
m afraid,
”
said Andrew.
“
We happened to be nearby with a party and thought we
’
d look in. Tell me, how is that little boy they called Timmy—the one I brought here just before I went on leave?
”

“
He was very bad—a big infection. He is better now, but not quite clear. He is still isolated.
”

“
I
’
ll go over and see him, I think. Would you mind showing my wife some of the things you
’
ve had rigged for the children?
”

“
It would be a privilege.
”

Andrew strode into the second building and the old man bowed again and indicated that they were to walk first under the trees. He stopped beside a low table surrounded by brown, bright-eyed boys and girls.

“
These make pictures. It is what they do best. See? Already one has made the Tuan Pappa in a few lines. Him they know, but you, madam, they will not draw until you have gone. It would not be polite!
”

Karen smiled at them, and passed on. Bigger boys were intent upon wood carvings, others did leatherwork. Girls
made
baskets and proudly showed lengths of batik over which they had labored. Some of their work, the doctor said, was even fit for sale down in Government Town, and they would eventually be able to take employment.

The most heart-warming sight, of course, was the babies and toddlers scrabbling about in the shade, watched by a young nurse. Karen knelt and lifted a child to its feet. It was a little girl with huge dark almond-shaped eyes and straight black hair; she was solemn and pudgy, very interested in the blue ribbon about Karen
’
s white hat. She climbed confidingly into Karen
’
s arms, and Karen stood up holding her.

“
You love children as the tuan does,
”
said the old doctor,
“
but your emotions about them are naturally different. With him, they are individuals who must be made
cl
ean and healthy. It was he who started this home, had it built and went in search of someone to look after the children. He found four Malay nurses and one very old Malay doctor who had already made himself a seat in the sun for old age.
”
His smile was gra
ci
ous.
“
Pappa Nimal, the man said to me, you are no longer retired. You are needed. And here I am, and happier than I have ever been in my life.
”

“
It
’
s splendid work, doctor,
”
she said, looking about her.
“
Are they orphans, these children?
”

‘
You did not know?
”
he said in surprise.
“
They are the children of tuberculous parents. Here in Nemaka we have no hospital for tuberculosis, and the patient must be treated in his own home. But the contacts, the children of those homes, were potential victims of the disease. Tuan Eliot said it was not to be tolerated—that the children should inevitably become infected by their elders—and so he began this scheme of separating the children from their homes while the infection is there, and giving them a good diet. The Tuan Governor agreed to give land and laborers for building and Tuan Eliot did everything else. We have now been established more than two years.
”