The Primrose Bride (6 page)

The silence lengthened, and her heat turned to chill. Her eyes were half-closed, seeing only the stone floor of the veranda, the wanton sprays of flowers leaning over it, towards the house. If he
’
d only pull her up into his arms,
tell
her sh
e was a goose, that he loved her, that he
’
d spank her for ever doubting it.
...

He spoke as lightly as if it were only two or three days since they had first met on the old stone bridge.
“
When the tide is low one day we
’
ll take a picnic out to the reef. There
’
s quite an amazing variety of fish and sea-anemones and the coral formations are fantastic and beautifully tinted.
”
Then his tone changed, but not much.
“
Not apprehensive about the small party tonight, are you?
”

“
No.
”

“
What do you think of Tony?
”

“
He seems pleasant.
”

“
He
’
s a bit like you, but being a man he
’
s had to harden up. Don
’
t start telling yourself that he
’
s unhappy. He
’
s not.
”

“
I
’
m afraid I haven
’
t that much interest in him.
”

“
Not yet. In
time,
everyone here is interested in everyone else.
”

“
Even you?
”
she heard herself asking, very coolly.

“
Even I. What makes you think I
’
m not concerned about the personal lives and feelings of the people I work with? The fact that I
’
ve managed to hurt you in some way doesn
’
t affect my relationship with my colleagues.
”

In that moment Karen knew, with lethal certainty, that she would never be able to handle a frank discussion with him. He was thirty-two, clever, shrewd and calculating. He had what he wanted, and he was convinced that he could keep it and turn it to his own account. She was no match for him and never would be. She made no answer.

He said softly,
“
You
’
re not a child, Karen, and
I’m
not
a
monster. We had some wonderful times together in England, and we
’
re going to do the same here. More than anything, I want your happiness. You
’
ve got to believe that.
”
He paused, giving her time to reply; when she remained silent, he added with a trace of sharp sarcasm,
“
If you
’
d stop thinking for a bit things might even out. You might even find yourself trusting me ... and realizing that we
’
re
married
.
”

Mercifully, she was not called upon to answer that. Anai came round the house, with an old
man
hobbling beside
him. They stopped in the sunshine, bowed their apologies several times.

“
What is it?
”
Andrew asked the servant.

“
This is an old man from the north coast, tuan. He says his grandson is sick from fish-bite. The assistant of the Tuan Doctor says the boy must be brought to the clinic, but the old man has no ox, no cart, and his home is in the hills near the sea. The boy is there.
”

Andrew looked at the lined brown face.
“
Aren
’
t yon the man who used to serve Kim Lai, the old chief?
”

The man gave a series of pleased nods.
“
I serve him till he die, tuan. It is kind of the tuan to remember me.
”

“
The tuan,
”
said Anai severely,
“
remembers everyone. Tell him what you want.
”

“
A cart,
”
quivered the old man simply.
“
Even if it is only a ricksha that I must pull myself. The doctor has said that later he will try to send the ambulance as far as the road is made, but I must bring the child to it. The boy is twelve years old and I am not strong enough to carry him. A cart, please, tuan.
”

Andrew said,
“
Anai will give you some food and milk while I get a car and a couple of boys with a stretcher. The car will take you as far as the road goes, and then you must lead the boys to your hut. They will look after your grandson.
”

The
man
clasped his hands together and backed away, his eyes wet with relief.
“
Thank you, tuan. The Tuan Doctor could not see me
...
”

“
He
’
s a very busy man—there are many cases all over the island. I
’
ll arrange this myself. Go and have some food.
”

Andrew turned ba
ck
towards the house, and only then seemed to realize that Karen had listened to the request and his response. Almost offhandedly he said,
“
I
’
m going up to the offices to get this fixed up. You might send Anai next door with a note saying that the old man
’
s grandson is being dealt with and they needn
’
t worry about trying to send out the ambulance. When the car comes, see that the old man is made comfortable in it and give the driver a couple of blankets for the child. You
’
ll find
a supply of government blankets in the small room next to the bathroom—they
’
re grey. I
’
ll be back about one.
”

She nodded and he went into the living room, came out again rattling a case of car keys. He hesitated, looking at her, checked what he was about to say and moved off. A minute later he had backed a car from the garage on the far side of the house and had turned it towards the road.

With muddled feelings, Karen sat at the dining table and wrote the note for Mrs. Mears. She recalled being invited for coffee and biscuits at eleven, and was glad it was now eleven-thirty and that the message she had to send was businesslike. Even the good-natured Molly Mears would have been hard to bear just now. After she had given the note and instructions to Anai, she went into the small linen room for the blankets. Curiously, she examined the piles of new linen sheets and pillow cases, the polythene-wrapped cellular blankets, the plain white damask tablecloths and napkins. These were Andrew
’
s. About a week ago—only a week?—she had asked him whether house linen were obtainable on Nemaka.

“
You can get a few things,
”
he
’
d told her, adding with a grin
“
I stocked up pretty thoroughly at the beginning of my leave—didn
’
t guess I was going to meet you! I went to a West End store and gave them an order to ship out for me. The stuff will probably be there before us. We can order anything more you may need by cable—it takes about two months to reach us.
”

She
’
d thought, regretfully, that it would have been nice to choose her own linen. It had seemed quite important then. And yet now she didn
’
t think of it as hers. It was Andrew
’
s, for Andrew
’
s house.

The car arrived—a long estate wagon which easily accommodated the stretcher. She saw the old man seated inside, just behind the driver and his companion, and placed the folded blankets beside him. A first aid box and a basket of staple groceries stood near the stretcher. Andrew hadn
’
t forgotten a thing.

“
I hope you
’
ll get it all through quickly,
”
she said, giving the old islander a warm smile.
“
You must let us know if you need anything more.
”

“
The mem is kind. I will n
ot
forget.
”

The long vehicle moved away and Karen went back into the house. On the whole, even a little action had made her feel a shade more normal. If she could forget herself for a while, plunge into something that needed doing and make a good job of it, she might get a more objective slant on her own problem. But what could she do? In this country one didn
’
t do gardening, and the few dress lengths and embroidery materials she had brought with her from England would need a more tranquil mind. The only other soothing occupation she could think of was cake-making, and seeing that the kitchen was Min Gan
’
s province, that was out. Still, there was nothing to prevent her looking over his domain.

The kitchen was quite large, with a long window looking out over the tangled orchard. Min Gan stood at a scrubbed table peeling bamboo shoots for a salad, and though he bowed politely as she entered he went on with the task, deftly using a razor-edged knife. Nothing stylish or very
modern
in the room, but it was cleanly painted white except for a wide band of mid-blue round the kitchen range. The fridge was large and well stocked with wrapped chickens and dairy foods; the interior was as clinically white as that of the tiny fridge at Aunt Laura
’
s, but Karen remembered that this one ran on paraffin. The couple of generators on the island had all they could do to supply lighting for the houses and Residency.

In answer to her question, Min Gan said he had baked
small cakes
only an hour ago. He showed her a large square tin methodically packed with tiny macaroons and iced buns.

“
I make everything but the large English fruit cake for which the tuan has sometimes asked,
”
he said.
“
That I have tried, but always it is wet in the middle and I am ashamed to show it.
”

“
It needs long cooking, Min Gan.
”

“
The mem will show me?
”

Karen bent to look into a cupboard.
“
Perhaps,
”
she answered with reserve. Not by the cook or anyone else
would she be persuaded to commit herself.
“
You have lots of new china here. It
’
s very smart.
”

“
But the mem has already seen it. The whole case of china was the gift of Tuan Horwe
l
l. He bring it himself from the mainland a week ago, and I washed it and put it away.
”

“
Oh, yes ... of course.
”

Karen passed on to the cutlery drawer, made a casual comment and drifted from the room. Unaccustomed to meeting danger every time she made a remark, she felt imprisoned, and inevitably she took the only way of escape she knew. She went down the path, hesitated at the gateless entrance and looked left, up the road. Hardly any sign of life and only a tiny glimpse here and there of a portion of thatch. She could see an interminable tamarisk hedge with gaps in it, masses of trees and a moving white something which must be a houseboy sweeping up leaves. The end of the road was lost in the thick shade of the trees.

She turned and crossed the road by which they had come from the airfield, trod through the sandy turf and went down on to the salt-white beach. Nothing much doing there, either. An islander in a faded sarong was examining a wide length of fishing net and a child picked over the weed and driftwood left by the last tide. The sea looked calm and gentle, and about seventy yards out the reef jutted its pink and purple coral crags. A perfect lagoon; the houses had been sited near it because it was the most beautiful of the many lagoons on this side of the island. The bathing, Andrew said, was superb and safe—best in the evening because air and water were cooler.

Karen thought of the three swim suits she had chosen with much care; expensive and a beautiful fit. One was white, one pale blue patterned with rose-pink, and the other
...
yellow. The color of sunshine, of candlelight, of daffodils and celandines and primroses ... A color she had loved, till now.

At the water
’
s edge she took off her shoes and waded a few yards. The sea was warm, the sun blinding, and quite soon she felt a headache starting behind her eyes. But was it the sunshine, or the battle which continued interminably inside her head, even without her volition? She didn
’
t know; but she decided it would be wiser to stay indoors during the hottest part of the day while she was on Nemaka. Because, of course, she wouldn
’
t be staying here for long; if everything must be uncertain, that was sure enough.

But when she had washed and run a comb through her hair, she sat in her room almost without thinking, except to reflect that it was strange how quickly one accepted grief. This time yesterday she had been a bride full of love and tremulous anticipation. Now she was disillusioned, much wiser and at least ten years older. And if she happened to be frightened, too, it couldn
’
t be helped. No woman in such a situation could be wholly cool and courageous. But she, Karen Hurst, would have a good try; keep her emotions well checked and meet Andrew with his own assurance and boldness. Few words, because they muddled matters and wouldn
’
t do any good; in that direction she was already beaten.