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Pieter lounged in a deep brown velvet armchair and Margo sat on the edge of hers, busily engaged in pouring tea from a delicate china teapot.

“So there you are,” said Pieter. “I was beginning to think you’d got lost. What do you think of my house?”

Lorna took a chair opposite Pieter. “It’s pretty impressive—what I’ve seen of it. But I like it.”

“I’m glad you approve. Lots of people don’t; they think it’s a monstrosity. To me, the simple design fits in well with its unsophisticated surroundings.”

“Definitely.” Lorna’s enthusiasm returned. “I think it’s absolutely marvellous. A—” she had been about to say that Ashley had not approved of the position of the house, but stopped herself in time. “Margo says I’ll soon tire of being here, but I don’t think so. I’m dying to explore the island.”

“We’ll take a walk before dinner,” said Margo, handing Lorna her tea. “I felt like you when I first came, but now I can’t wait to leave. I want to come back, of course, but too much peace and quiet can pall. And Pieter’s like a caged animal—aren’t you, darling?”

He grinned. “There’s only one thing holding me here. But I don’t know why we didn’t get married quickly and quietly instead of with all this fuss.”

“Have a heart,” protested Margo. “A girl only gets married once. This is my big day, remember?”

“Okay, okay, sorry I spoke. Pass Lorna the sandwiches. A fine hostess you make!”

“Sorry, pet,” said Margo. “Pieter took my mind off things. He loves to get me going.”

Lorna could see that any doubts she might have had regarding her sister and Pieter were unfounded. Margo was deeply in love and very happy. Theirs would be an ideal marriage, without a doubt.

Later in the afternoon Pieter excused himself and Margo took Lorna down in the lift for the promised exploration of the island. Instead of heading for the beach they walked along a narrow path to their left. Lorna was so fascinated by her surroundings that she almost forgot her sister forging ahead—trees bearing strange-looking fruit, some with brilliant red or purple flowers, the raucous cries of the birds and the flash of their wings as they darted from tree to tree. Her senses were ravished by the beauty of it all and she made a swift decision to find out the names of the flora and fauna before too long. Margo had little interest in the scene. She had probably become so used to it, decided Lorna, that to her it was as commonplace as the English countryside.

As the woodland thinned they came upon bungalows sitting on shoulders of rock their occupants calling a cheerful greeting as the two girls passed. And then they were in the open. A tiny village nestled in the curve of a cove. “That is where we’re getting married,” said Margo, pointing to a church spire thrusting upwards, its cross glinting gold in the sun.

“Oh, do let’s go and see,” said Lorna. “It doesn’t look very big. I thought you were inviting lots of people?”

“So I am. Naturally all the guests won’t be able to come to the church, but The White House will be full.”

Lorna laughed. “I think you’re looking forward more to the reception than the ceremony! ”

“Maybe I am. I can’t remember the last party I went to. It’s been so dull here lately.” A note of petulance crept into Margo’s voice and Lorna glanced at her swiftly. “You’ve no regrets?”

“None at all,” Margo grinned. “I’m quite happy really. It’s just that I can be myself with you. I daren’t grumble to Pieter. He’s so good to me. It was my idea to have this celebration, so I have no one to blame but myself for staying here longer than I intended.”

They reached the church through an assortment of odd-shaped houses and bungalows looking as though they had been scattered on to the ground with no thought for symmetry. A few shops huddled together near the church and £ group of people stood outside talking. They broke off as Lorna and Margo approached, smiling broadly and calling greetings in a mixture of Creole and French and English. The Seychellois, Lorna discovered, were a mixed race, but one common factor was their overwhelming friendliness.

Inside the tiny building it was surprisingly cool and Margo led the way into one of the pews which Lorna noticed had been donated by Pieter. As they sat there , a tremendous feeling of peace stole over her. The atmosphere of the whole island was calm and tranquil, yet here in the church an additional serenity prevailed. She could even think of Ashley with a lesser degree of hatred, though why he should spring to mind at this particular moment she did not know.

Perhaps her thoughts had communicated themselves to her sister, she decided a few minutes later, when her calm was suddenly shattered by Margo saying:

“I posted the invitations this morning. You’ll never guess who we’ve invited? Ashley Ward!”

LORNA stared at Margo in horror. “Would you mind repeating that?” She must have misheard.’ After all her sister had gone through surely she wouldn’t now invite Ashley to her wedding? It was completely illogical. No one in their right mind would do a thing like that.

“Ashley Ward. Remember? The man who threw me over for someone else. And am I grateful—otherwise I wouldn’t have met Pieter. Don’t look so shocked—I’m over him completely now. It might even be fun—I say, what’s wrong?” realising that Lorna’s distress went deeper than just surprise. “You’re not ill or something? You’ve gone very pale.”

“No, I’m not ill.” Without telling her sister all that had happened how could she explain that she did not want to see Ashley Ward again? That even the mention of his name caused a tight knot in her stomach? She could of course say that she had seen him in Durban with Avril Vickers, but that alone would not account for the utter loathing she now felt and her aversion to his being present at the wedding.

“Then what’s the matter?” Margo frowned, puzzled. “I know you never liked the man, but that’s all in the past. I don’t bear any grudges.”

Lorna shook her head in disbelief. “Not after the way he behaved?”

“No. Why should I?”

“Well, I think you’re treating the whole matter far too lightly.” Lorna’s voice rose and echoed throughout the church. Anxiously she looked round to make sure they were alone, then continued in a whisper, “And if Ashley Ward comes to your wedding you can count me out.”

“Lorna!” It was Margo’s turn to be shocked. “You can’t really mean that?”

“I do.” She rose. “Come on, let’s get out of here. This is no place for an argument.”

“Who’s arguing?” hissed Margo, hurrying after her. “What’s got into you? I knew there was something wrong the moment you arrived,” and then with sudden perception, “It’s Ashley, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes, it is,” admitted Lorna, pausing at the church gate. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but I—I met him on the ship.”

“I see,” Margo nodded, “and carried on a feud on my behalf?”

“Not exactly. I didn’t tell him we were related.”

“Then for pity’s sake, what happened?”

Lorna shook her head and hurried on through the town, intent on reaching the refuge of the forest away from the curious eyes of the villagers.

Once in the safety of the trees Lorna rested on a boulder, staring up at Margo with troubled eyes. “It’s a long story—but to put it in a nutshell, I fell in love with him.”

“You what? Oh, no!” Then Margo laughed and laughed until the tears rolled down her cheeks.

Lorna wished that she too could see the funny side of it, but at the moment the situation held no humour for her. Only a deep-seated desire never to see the man again.

“I’m sorry,” said Margo at last. “I should know how you feel, but don’t you see? Both of us? Oh, it’s hilarious!” and she dissolved again into peals of laughter.

“You didn’t think it so funny at the time,” Lorna began to feel annoyed. “I seem to remember you declaring that you never wanted to see him again—
and
crying into your pillow at night.”

“I did—it’s true.” Margo pulled herself together with a tremendous effort. “He jilted you?”

“Not on your life!” declared Lorna. “When I realised what was happening to me I decided to get in first. I told him I knew what his game was and that I didn’t want anything more to do with him.” Margo rubbed her hands gleefully. “That I’d like to have seen. I bet it shook him rigid. What did he say?”

“Not much—he was angry, though. I think he thought I didn’t mean it. lie soon found out I did.” Lorna’s lips were grim as she recalled the scene on the boat. It had taken every ounce of her self-possession at that time to reject his kisses. Very different from the way she felt now.

“This is great. No wonder you looked shattered when you got here. It’s been some voyage.”

“That’s not all. After we reached South Africa, in spite of all I’d said, he took it upon himself to show me the sights of Gape Town and various other places —even though it must have been a frightful bore for him.”

“I wonder why? How did
you
feel?”

“Well—” Lorna grimaced, “I still thought I loved him at that stage and it was pretty painful trying to appear disinterested.”

“And now?”

“I hate him!” said Lorna with such vehemence that Margo backed away.

“Heavens! What brought that about? He didn’t try to—?”

“No—although even that might have been better than—what he did do.”

“Well, for heaven’s sake, aren’t you going to tell me?” Margo paced impatiently in front of Lorna.

“He met Avril Vickers at Durban airport—she was going back home with him. Yes,” as Margo raised her eyebrows, “they’re still together. We stayed in the same hotel last night.” She paused—was it really only twenty-four hours ago that it had all happened? It seemed a lifetime.

“Go on,” urged Margo.

“I overheard him telling her that—that he’d been —” she swallowed painfully, “playing me along. He said he couldn’t let me down because I had no one else to look after me.”

Margo drew a deep breath. “He said that? The swine! The rotter! No wonder you’re mad. Ooh, if I could get my hands on him now—he was playing you along all right—ready to drop you like he does everyone else. Good job you got in first. I suppose he felt the need to account for your presence to his precious Avril. He’s certainly giving her a run for her money.” She squatted down at Lorna’s side and put an arm protectively round her shoulders. “I wish I’d waited before sending those invitations. It was Pieter’s idea. Apparently they were quite good friends at one time.”

“I know. But why didn’t Pieter tell you he knew Ashley when you first met?”

Margo smiled. “Because I’d have had nothing to do with him if I’d known. I was very anti-Ashley in those days—and anyone connected with him. He only told me the other day when we were making out the guest list. I don’t care now—but I don’t want you hurt. Perhaps he’ll refuse. You never know your luck.”

“Knowing my luck, he’ll come,” sighed Lorna, “if only to humiliate us both.”

Margo hugged her. “We are a couple of sillies, aren’t we? Never mind, I’ll think of something. Let’s get back now or we’ll be late for dinner.”

The next few days passed in a pleasurable haze. Pieter took her on a tour of the island by ox-cart—a unique experience she wouldn’t have missed for anything. The roads wound through scrub and trees and occasionally Lorna caught a glimpse of blue water, of a foaming waterfall, flowers in every colour of the rainbow, and birds such as she had never seen before.

On another occasion Margo arranged for a hamper and Pieter drove them to a beach on the other side of the island where they spent a lazy day swimming and sunbathing. This tropical isle was indeed a veritable Shangri-la, thought Lorna, and she knew that when the time came to return to England she would never want to leave.

Then they spent a day on Mahe selecting material for Lorna’s bridesmaid dress which was being made by a local dressmaker. Margo’s own gown was of a rich ivory satin encrusted with pearls and diamonds. It had taken Lorna’s breath away, but she was determined to have something quite plain for herself, even if it meant offending her sister. Eventually they compromised by choosing an ice blue brocade which was elaborate enough in design to please Margo and which Lorna decided wouldn’t look too bold if made up in a very simple style.

They took their purchases to the boat and then set off to explore Victoria, admiring the beautiful gardens in the grounds of the Government House, and the tomb of a past administrator, the Chevalier Jean Baptiste Queau de Quincy, one of the Seychelles’ most famous figures.

Near the post office, Margo said, “I’ll collect the mail while we’re here,” and disappeared inside, returning a few minutes later clutching a pile of envelopes. “Looks like replies to the invitations,” she said. “I wonder if there’s one from Ashley?”

Lorna had deliberately avoided thinking about him since the day of her arrival, but now her heart pumped madly as she watched her sister flick through the letters. She still intended to miss the wedding if Ashley came. Despite the humiliation his presence would cause she would only spoil Margo’s day by showing her hostility. She had never felt so strongly about anyone before and was a little surprised at herself by the intensity of her emotions'. This was one of the reasons why she had dared not let herself think about him. All her pleasure in discovering the charm and beauty of the Seychelles Islands would have been spoilt, to say nothing of Margo’s own happiness if Lorna had displayed her ill humour.

“Looks as if your prayers are answered,” said Margo as she reached the end without finding the one for which she was looking.

“Oh, I hope so,” sighed Lorna, relieved, not realising she had been holding her breath in suspense. “I couldn’t stay, you know, if he did come.”

“Don’t be silly,” scolded Margo. “You don’t have •to meet him, there’ll be hundreds of people there.”

“Yes, but I’ll
know
—and I shall feel it in my bones. I couldn’t go through with it, Margo, you may as well know now. It would only spoil things for you.”

“Really, Lorna!” Margo looked annoyed. “You’re taking this thing too far. I know what he’s done and what he’s said, but there’s no need to let it ruin your whole life—or mine, for that matter.”