Unknown (11 page)

'Whether it will be all right or not has nothing to do with me,’ he said shortly, 'but in any case, we will go.’

Marlow's house was like the location of a period film, Jade found herself thinking as she saw it, with its pillared verandahs overlooking the lawns and, in turn, all that sugar cane. In the distance they could see the ocean and, in the silence, could hear dogs barking.

Laurent had parked the car immediately in front of the wide steps which led up to the verandah, and almost immediately Jade’s eyes had gone to the horns on the wall, which served to remind her that Marlow was now a hunter. A little shiver ran down her spine.

'Get out, if you wish.’ Laurent’s voice conveyed nothing. 'There should be servants about.'

He came to stand next to her and she made a pretence of admiring the hibiscus, bougainvillea, oleander and poinsettia shrubs.

'He must keep dogs.’ Her voice was small.

'He
does
keep dogs,’ he replied very softly.

'You know how to hurt me and you like to hurt me, don’t you?' she said bitterly.

‘I don’t own those dogs,' he said angrily, 'because you know without being told that they are hunting dogs, no?’

'And that’s how they hunt here?’ she said dully.

‘Yes. The hunters take up position on wooden observation platforms,...'

‘I saw them—and wondered,’ she cut in, still in that same lifeless voice.

‘These are known as
miradors chut,
hidden below by foliage. They simply wait. The deer are driven towards them by dogs or beaters. Two does, I think it is, and one stag. That is the ration, and, as I have already explained to you, the day ends on a boisterous and successful note ... champagne, ice-cold island rum, soda-filled whiskies, whisky on the rocks....’

‘Stop it!
Stop it,'
she repeated.

When he caught her and swung her round to face him he said, ‘This is the man you are going to marry, you little fool! The dogs there in the pens among the bananas, paw-paw, trees, litchi and mango trees belong to him. So do the box-like trailers with iron guards on the sides belong to him. You will have to see them every day when you are here. Think about that! This is the man who gives you twenty years, that you have come here to marry.'

When he bent his head to kiss her she closed her eyes. His kisses would enable her to bear the intolerable weight of the burden that was pressing down on her, she thought.

‘Don’t take it out on me,’ he muttered, his lips going from her mouth to her eyelids, her throat.

As her lips parted under his she knew that she had been manipulated again.

‘After you are married, you can dismiss me from your mind,’ Laurent said.

‘Yes,’ she murmured, clinging to him. ‘Yes....'

If you can, she was thinking, in the shattering, hopeless flood of desire she was feeling for him, but right now, she didn’t care.

When the elderly Creole woman coughed on the verandah, they broke apart.

‘We are not—coming in,
’
Laurent said.

‘He is away,’ the woman told him.

‘Yes, I know,' he replied, and then to Jade, ‘We will go now you have seen it.’ She allowed him to take her hand.

When they were in the car he said, ‘We will go back to my chalet and drink island cocktails among the leaning palms and a pink sunset.’

For a moment his sea-green eyes were on her mouth, and then he reached for her again and his lips sought hers.

‘The woman....’ she murmured.

‘For sure,' he said, and smiled suddenly. 'I can wait.'

For several moments, they studied each other, then he started the car.

‘You see,' he said, ‘there is a pink sunset.’ He took her hand, and raising it, kissed her fingers. When he released it again he touched the nape of her neck, and Jade tried to think of an ivory-skinned girl with tawny eyes.

‘It’s been nearly an all-day affair,' she murmured, going up to Curepipe.’

‘Come,' he said, ‘and while you sit on the balcony I will mix you a drink, then we will admire the coral-reef and the sunset before I take you back to the hotel.’ The sea was a mixture of turquoise, changing to amber which finally began to look as if it had been dusted with pearl. The thin, foaming line beyond the sea lagoon was surprisingly quiet and calm, and yet, Marlow had written, there were places where the wild Indian Ocean pounded, unchecked, against black, cane-bordered sea cliffs.

‘Service is swift and polite,’ said Laurent, when he passed Jade a drink.

‘So I see. Thank you.’ Taking the glass from him she watched as he chose one of the cane chairs. ‘It’s perfect here.’ Her eyes went to the fishermen who were busy working on their boats under the palms. ‘What do you call that funny thing on the water?’

‘It is a catamaran,’ he told her. ‘It is time I threw a gala.’ He seemed preoccupied, but she knew he was joking, ‘But no, now is not the time. I have a need for complete privacy. Marlow Lewis, I understand, often gives a party. I have been to only two, and that was because Nicole asked me to take her there.’

She knew that he was waiting for her reaction.

‘Oh?’ She felt tense. ‘What kind of parties does he give? If he gives parties I expect a lot will rest on me, in the not-too-distant future. But in any case, you did mention that you didn’t want to talk about Marlow?’

‘A little wild.....’ he ignored her last remark.

For a moment she was quiet, looking down at her glass, then she said, ‘He didn't used to give wild parties in Australia.’

‘No?’ He glanced at her, as if not believing her.

‘No. He and Elisa lived in the main house. They— they weren’t married, but they were going to be married. Jeffrey, my brother, and I were in the small bungalow. Jeffrey helped manage the sheep-station. We’d met Marlow in London. Jeffrey had always longed to farm and when Marlow made the offer he went to Australia, taking me with him.’

Of course,’ Laurent held up his glass and gazed through the golden liquid, ‘the plantation house without its virile owner appeared switched off today, but once you are married and living there it will take on a different meaning. The dogs, of course, you will have to accept. It is part of his life. If you marry him it will be a part of yours.'

‘I didn't know he was interested in hunting.’ Jade saw that her hand was shaking when she lifted the glass. ‘I didn’t know him all that well, though.’

‘You must have known him well enough—otherwise you would not be here,’ he answered shortly.

The Indian Ocean sunset was painting the white beach a rich pink now, and dramatised the palms.

‘That is so, no?’ His voice sounded suddenly harsh.

Glancing at his face to see how the remark was meant, she explained, ‘After the plane crash, we were thrown together. We—sort of—consoled one another.’

'You moved into his house with him?’

‘No! ’ she replied furiously. ‘I did not move into his house with him. How dare you say that to me?’

‘It is a matter of indifference to me,’ he said brutally, ‘whether or not you moved in with him.’ He got up, suddenly, and went into the adjoining studio. Jade could hear him pouring liquid into a glass.

‘What about London? Your people?’ he asked, coming out to the balcony again.

‘There were no people. Our people were ... honestly,’ she put her glass down and covered her face with her fingers, ‘it’s all too much ... you see, they were killed....'

'Don't go on,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry—forgive me.’

'After the air crash,' she took her fingers away, 'Jeffrey’s, I mean, not my parents', I moved to Sydney. I went back to salon work and Marlow and I corresponded. Finally he wrote asking me to join him here.’

‘After how long?’ He seemed impatient for her reply.

‘Soon after he got here.'

‘Letters giving way to
love
-letters strengthened the relationship, no? But he has been here for some time now ... two years, I understand. Why did it take you so long to come to him?’

‘He wrote saying .....’ she began, but he cut her short.

'He had his reasons, that is obvious. Marlow Lewis....' he gazed out at the water. ‘The great hunter.' His voice was sarcastic.

'You are, in your own way, a hunter,' she said hotly. The only difference is that you happen to be a woman-hunter! ’

‘My life is like an obstacle race, but then I am excited by obstacles,' he replied. ‘I am like an athlete, not a hunter.’

Suddenly she stood up.

‘Does this upset you?’ he was saying.

‘No, it doesn't. I just don't want to stay here sparring with you. My nerves are on edge, right now. Everything seems to have gone wrong. I don’t feel like going back to my room and yet I most certainly do not feel like staying here. I can hardly believe that I work at the health clinic. How long ago is it since I worked there? Only yesterday? Already,' she went on bitterly, ‘it seems a lifetime ago. 1 wish I was back in my flat in Chelsea.’

‘You are upset.' He came to stand next to her.

‘And you have seen to it.'

Look,’ he said, placing his arms about her, ‘here in Mauritius we have a saying which is—tomorrow belongs to no one. Let us forget about yesterday—and tomorrow. We will dine together this evening, at the hotel. I know what I want and you know what you want—but for this evening, let us put these things aside.’

‘I feel so tired,' she murmured, against him. ‘Tired of everything.’

‘You don’t,’ he smoothed back her hair. ‘You feel excited by everything. For myself, I have no nostalgia for the yesterdays ... so far as women are concerned. I have no plans for the future. Now is what counts—let us enjoy it while it lasts.’

He had dinner with her at the hotel. Nicole de Speville was also dining there, with a small party of friends, and when she saw Jade and Laurent she commented, ‘You have been getting around, Jade. Marlow must appear to you as a dream, almost, no? After all, you have not seen him for two years, and he was unable to be here on your arrival to remind you that he really does exist.’

‘Well, the fact that he’s not here, Nicole, is hardly my fault... and yes, it all does seem like a dream.

After Nicole had passed by, Jade sat looking down at the honey-gold tablecloth. As usual, there was a spray of pink and red hibiscus arranged on the cloth ... just clustered there, without water—without a vase. Soon, Jade thought, they would wilt and die, but like the women in Laurent Sevigny’s life, there were more in the garden, just waiting to be picked.

‘Nicole was young to be left a widow.' Laurent broke into her thoughts.

‘Her attitude towards me has something to do with you.’ Jade gave him a level look.

‘Allow me to remind you that her attitude towards you has nothing to do with me.’

‘I find that difficult to believe,' she said.

‘Let me remind you, anyhow, that it happens to be the case. We are merely good friends,' he replied.

‘It depends on what you mean by good friends. You are the essence of elusiveness.' While she was speaking she sensed his hostility.

‘It is not for
me
to explain Nicole.'

After dinner they watched the Sega dancing, but Laurent did not ask her to dance.

When he finally saw her to her door he said, ‘I do not have to explain Marlow Lewis to you either. You are the one who is going to have to face up to him. Sometimes you try my patience, and my advice to you is do not push me to the limit, because I might just tell you more than you’d care to hear about this man.'

In the morning, Jade went to her world of beauty. Beauty which meant discipline, from dawn to dusk, a putting on of one s best face, or getting someone else to put it on for you, glorious bouncy hair, a good figure ... and finally, the reason for wanting to be lovely ... a man in the background.

In the reception office Nicole was already there, wearing one of her caftans. ‘After all,' she was saying, ‘what does one do when one is overweight and depressed? Go on looking and feeling terrible? No, I think not. No, darling, you were quite right in coming here to Mauritius to the health clinic. Why feel guilty, for goodness' sake? After all, your husband could have come with you, no? He was just acting like a mule. Why have a guilt complex over this, but quite possibly your three-day liquid diet is having something to do with it. Have you been drinking your anti-morbs? Ah, Jade—excuse me, darling.' Nicole moved away from the woman she had been talking to. ‘Jade, I want you to look at these latest photographs of that big pain in the neck. Cellulite. Doesn't it look like orange-rind when squeezed? Look at those legs! By the way, when Marian has finished her anti-cellulite heat-treatment, she is to have a facial.’

There was nothing but politeness in Nicole’s manner. I could have liked her, Jade found herself thinking, if it hadn’t been for Laurent Sevigny. She promised herself a drink of the magical anti-morbs health drink, for she certainly had a tit of the blues and the antidepressant drink might be as beneficial to her as it was to someone on a liquid or very strict diet.

Jade went through to the machine department where clients had decorated the walls with praise. This, in fact, formed part of the decor. One of the longest read:

So I went away for two months and a day,

To Mauritius in the sea,

To a protein diet and saunas and quiet,

And look what’s happened to me!

The Comtesse Nicole machine-vibrated my spleen,

My buttocks, my thighs—and my bo',

And when summer came

They measured my frame

And told me I could go.

I love you all—so much.

Thank you!

It was a world of hydrotherapy, parafango, cellulite heat machines, Propil, electrotherapy and iontophoreses, and it was Greek to most people, but it coped with water massage, therapeutic volcanic mud treatment for fibrositis, hair removal, slimming, crepy necks and wrinkled faces.

The salon was restful and subdued, with its soft lighting and rose-tinted mirrors, and while she worked on people’s faces, Jade thought about Marlow Lewis, the man she had come to marry, and of Laurent Sevigny, the man with whom she had fallen hopelessly in love.