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“I suppose I am being selfish,” admitted Lorna ruefully. “But I can’t help it. The man gets me like that.”

“Well, you’d better snap out of it,” said her sister. “I don’t want you upsetting my wedding day.” Lorna smiled sadly and put her arm round Margo. “I’m sorry. I’ll try, of course, just for you. If we do meet I’ll treat him with casual indifference and hope he doesn’t refer to our last meeting.”

“He won’t,” said Margo confidently, “not in public, anyway. He’s too much of a gentleman.”

Lorna had been on Verva for nearly a week when Margo announced that she and Pieter were flying to Mombasa on sudden urgent business and would not be back until the following evening. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but it’s unavoidable.”

“Don’t worry,” Lorna assured her. “I’ll be quite all right. I don’t mind being alone. Dan will make sure I’m well fed and I can easily amuse myself. That’s the least of my worries.”

Despite Lorna’s repeated declarations that she was well able to care for herself, Margo still looked anxious as their boat sped away from the jetty, but Lorna waved cheerfully until they were out of sight and then slowly walked alone the shore.

It was the first time she had been completely alone and rather than feel sorry for herself she felt exhilarated. There was no one else about. It was almost as if she was alone on the island. What would it be like, she thought, to be marooned on one of these beautiful islands? You wouldn’t starve, that was for sure. Mango, banana, breadfruit; they all grew in profusion, and you could drink rain water or toddy tapped from the coconut palm. It would be lonely, though. Much as Lorna liked her own company she didn’t fancy living in entire isolation, not to see or speak to another person for days on end. There were people like that. Pieter had told her about a man who owned one of the islands and had lived there alone for fifteen years. Apart from help when it came to picking his crops, and his odd visits to Mahe to replenish his stores, he never saw another soul for months at a time. He had chosen this way of life and it apparently suited him, but Lorna didn’t envy him. Even with just one other person, maybe a husband or wife, it could be fun, but alone—she shuddered, it wouldn’t do at all.

She stopped, the sea lapping gently at the shore the only sound apart from the cry of the birds. Lorna had already found out the names of some of them and watched with amusement the swoops and glides of a shearwater and the vigorous bounding flight of a sooty tern. Then she headed inland through mixed woodland of the usual coconut palms, badamier and takamar trees, with houses tucked in among them. In particular her attention was drawn to an old planter’s house—a rambling spacious structure built on pillars four or five feet above the ground to provide a cool air space beneath. It was constructed of local timber and the wood had weathered into a beautiful pastel shade.

She carried on until she reached a low summit. From here Lorna could see the limitless expanse of blue ocean with only occasional purple mounds to remind her that she was in the islands. With little else to occupy her thoughts, Ashley came unbidden to mind. She recalled him saying he had business in the islands and wondered whether he had yet found the time to fly over, or whether Avril occupied his whole attention. He could, of course, take it into his head to visit Pieter while he was in the Seychelles—perhaps reply in person to the invitation. She hadn’t thought of that, but now she jumped up in sudden agitation. What if he came today—or tomorrow— while she was here alone? He had no idea why she had run away in Durban, but would demand an explanation without a doubt when—if—they met again. She had purposely fought shy of deciding what to say should the occasion arise, but now she began to rack her brains for an excuse. She couldn’t tell him the truth. It was too deflating by far. But what to tell him? That was the problem.

By midday—when the heat became so oppressive she could stand it no longer—Lorna still had not decided. She rose and started her return journey. After lunch she would spend a lazy afternoon on the beach; perhaps then she would be able to dream up a suitable explanation. One that would stop him asking any more questions.

The whole house was quiet when she left, the servants taking their usual afternoon rest. Dressed in a white bikini with a towelling robe slung over her shoulders, Lorna went down in the lift. She had not yet found the courage to use the steps, although had often seen Pieter climbing up or down.

Already deeply tanned, Lorna had no fear of burning and lay on the warm white sands listening to the gentle murmur of the sea. She thought she heard a motor boat in the distance, but the soporific effect of the moving water and the heat of the sun was already beginning to take effect and she dozed—until woken a short while later by the shrill cry of a sooty tern. The first time she had heard its characteristic call like a cat being strangled she had been frightened half out of her wits, but now she merely smiled to herself and lay with her eyes still closed. In a minute, she decided, she would take a dip, but she felt so deliciously lazy it was an effort to move.

A sudden shadow falling across her body, caused Lorna to look up. Her mouth fell open when she saw Ashley standing before her, arms akimbo and feet planted firmly in the sand. Her first thought was that she must still be asleep and dreaming, that this figure in faded blue denim shorts and white cotton shirt was a figment of her imagination. She closed her eyes. He had been so much on her mind today that they must be playing tricks. But when she opened them again he was still there. It was no illusion. Dark glasses hid his expression, although his lips formed their usual smile.

Lorna raised herself on her elbows, frowning. “What are you doing here? If you want Pieter you’re out of luck.” She recalled now the motor boat she had heard earlier—but if that had been Ashley, surely he would have spoken to her before? She glanced at her watch. He must have been on the island for a half hour at least. Had she been aware of his presence she would certainly not have rested so easily.

“I’m well aware of Pieter’s absence. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. Get up. You’re coming with me.”

"You must be joking! I wouldn’t go anywhere with you—not if you were the last man on earth!” Uneasily aware of her vulnerable position. Lorna spoke sharply, but Ashley merely smiled, “Oh no?” and reaching down grabbed her wrist, yanking her mercilessly to her feet.
“You
may well think I
am
the last man before I’ve finished with you!”

At one time his nearness would have sent her senses reeling, but now Lorna was only conscious of a desire to escape. “What do you think you’re playing at?” she cried as she twisted and turned in a bid to free herself. “Let me go, you brute !”

“When I’m good and ready.” He gave an infuriating grin. “We’re going
for a ride first.”

He dragged her along the sand towards the jetty, Lorna half running, half walking, struggling desperately every inch of the way. But he was. strong, far too strong for her, and there was little she could do except make it as difficult for him as she could. He had certainly timed it well, she thought. A swift backward glance towards the White House showed no one in sight, and the village was too far away for anyone to hear cries for help. “What do you want with me?” she panted. “Can’t it be said here instead of going to these ridiculous lengths?”

“ ’Fraid not,” he called over his shoulder. “But don’t worry, you’ll soon find out.”

“Don’t worry? You must be mad! You won’t get away with this, let me tell you. I shall make a formal complaint about your behaviour.”

His laughter mocked her as they neared the jetty.

Lorna could not see his boat, so supposed it must be moored the other side. All very secretive and underhand, and she could not imagine what he hoped to gain.

As she had guessed, a sleek white cabin cruiser was tied up on the other side of the concrete landing stage. She noticed the name
Poiret
, thinking in a sudden flash of irony that Pirate would have been more apt. When they reached the steps Ashley swung her easily into his arms, carrying her down on to the deck.

“What’s the matter?” she scoffed. “Scared I’ll try and make a break for it?”

“Well, wouldn’t you?” His face was inches from her own, still with that infuriating grin. Lorna tried to free a hand so that she could knock the silly smile off his face, but as if reading her mind he kept both arms pinned tightly to her sides while lowering her feet.

The next moment she was propelled forcibly forward into the cabin. The door closed and the key turned with an ominous click. Angrily Lorna banged on the door, but it had not the slightest effect. Ashley calmly untied his boat, started the engine, and drew swiftly away from the island.

When Lorna realised the futility of trying to make him release her she turned and sank wearily down on to one of the bunks, rubbing her wrists where Ashley’s strong, lean fingers had reddened the skin. The cabin was small, but clean and tidy. Ashley’s jacket lay on the other bunk, but that was the only indication of its owner. There were the usual cupboards and drawers and a lift-up table, and another door which led into the galley. Here again everything was spotlessly clean and not a thing out of order.

She returned to her seat. Ashley’s cruiser might be of less imposing proportions than Pieter’s, she thought, looking through the porthole at the white wake left behind them, but it lacked nothing in power, judging by the speed he was going. Verva was fast becoming smaller and soon The White House was nothing more than a mere speck.

Why, she thought, why has he done this? How could he explain his actions? What did he hope to gain? Perhaps he had realised she had overheard his conversation with Avril and come to apologise? On the other hand, maybe he wanted to know exactly why she had run away. Or could it be that his vain male pride wanted them still to be friends? Even so it didn’t account for the melodramatics. Surely whatever he wanted to say could have been said on Verva? There was no one to interrupt them today. The more Lorna thought about it the more confused she became.

The noise of the engine suddenly died and Ashley came to sit beside her. Lorna drew herself into the corner as far away from him as she could.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said softly. “I merely want to talk.”

“What can you possibly want to talk about?” snapped Lorna. “I’ve finished with you, do you understand? There’s nothing more to be said.”

“On the contrary, there’s plenty to discuss, and if you’ll just calm down we might be able to get somewhere.” He leaned back lazily, his eyes narrow, watchful, his arm resting along the back of the seat near to Lorna.

A little too near, she thought, jumping up and standing with her back against the galley door. Her heart beat painfully. Two spots of high colour showed in her cheeks and she tried her best to look dignified. It was difficult, though, dressed as she was only in a bikini.

“How do you expect me to remain calm when you’ve brought me here against my will? I demand you turn this boat round and take me back right now.” His eves mocked her. “And if I don’t?”

“I—I’ll—” She stamped her foot in frustration. There was nothing she could do. She was completely at his mercy—and he knew it. What was more he was thoroughly enjoying the situation. She had no option but to play it his way. “Okay, what is it you want?”

“Your company—nothing more, nothing less.” He spoke softly, yet firmly.

A man used to getting his own way, thought Lorna, and one who would resort to any tricks to get it. “But why—why go to these preposterous lengths to seek me out? You could come to the house at any time and see me, if that’s all you want.”

Ashley nodded. “Agreed. But I wanted to get you away from Pieter.”

“I don’t understand.” She shook her head. Pieter wasn’t on the island today, and he knew it. The situation became more puzzling with every passing minute, and the fact that he still thought she was Pieter’s girlfriend did not help. This delusion was having repercussions far beyond anything she had ever imagined. “You will, soon—Margaret!” '

Lorna started. “How did you find that out?” Margaret was indeed her second name, but she never used it and had certainly not told Ashley.

“Surely you know?” His eyes alight with amusement he felt in the pocket of his jacket. “Here—this should answer your question.”

The card he handed her was Margo’s wedding invitation and suddenly Lorna knew what had happened. Her sister’s full name was Margaret Lorna Ridgeway, which she had put on the invitations, while her own was Lorna Margaret Ridgeway. She had never understood her mother’s reasoning, and had been sure that one day their names would cause confusion. Now it had, and Ashley thought she really was marrying Pieter. It would be funny if she wasn’t so annoyed.

As she passed back the card she caught the critical expression in his eyes and wondered whether or not to enlighten him. There did not seem much point now in carrying on the deception. By Margo’s own admission she was completely over her affair with Ashley so even if they met she would not be upset. Hadn’t she gone so far as to say it might be fun? But before she could decide, Ashley spoke :

“Can you honestly tell me that you love Pieter?”

“Er—no, but I can explain.”

“And very convincingly, I’ve no doubt, but don’t you see that you’d be mining your life by marrying someone you don’t love?”

“You don’t understand—I—”

Impatiently he brushed aside her attempt to tell him the truth. “What is it you’re after? Money? Position? Money isn’t everything, you know, Lorna.” He stood and gripped her upper arms, shaking her slightly as if to emphasise his words. “With the right person you can be very happy, no matter what the circumstances. You could even find pleasure in being stranded on a desert island.”

“Not with you, I wouldn’t,” Lorna retorted hotly. “A thousand miles between us wouldn’t be far enough as far as I’m concerned. Let me go!”

To Lorna’s surprise he released her immediately and returned to the bunk from where he looked up at her furious face, smiling wickedly. “Quite a little spitfire, aren’t you? I hadn’t realised you had so much spirit. Now, what was I saying? Ah, yes. Alone on a desert island.” He tilted his head as if considering the question—and smiled mysteriously.