Wealth of the Islands (23 page)

But Helen wasn
’
t even listening. In the music she could hear all sorts of things that she had forgotten about for more years than she could remember. In it was the sound of love and growing things, and the spinning world reached out for the destiny that awaited it. In it were her own beginnings and the beginnings of the man who stood beside her and who danced it with her. It was a dangerous, persuasive sound that promised who knew what?

The band thudded out the rhythm with the hollow sound of a bare hand on dug-out wooden drums. A guitar or two, of local manufacture, added the sweeter sound of the melody, while a flute and a home-made whistle sounded the counterpoint that completed the complicated pattern of sound. When they saw that Helen and Gregory could interpret the music and follow it as they would themselves in their own dances, they settled down to the sheer joy of playing, complicating the beat and adding words that no one but themselves could understand in a compulsive, husky undertone. One by one, the other dancers fell out,
content merely to sway an time to the music, and to watch someone else who could turn the dance into a
li
ving, breathing thing before their eyes.

She should never have allowed it, Helen thought desperately. She knew the ending would have to come. The drums hurried out a quicker and quicker beat, and the singing became louder, burning her ears although she had no idea of their meaning. Then, in the middle of a phase, the music stopped. There was a long moment of silence, and then a crashing crescendo of sound that drew her closer to Gregory. She was almost expecting it when his lips came down on hers and she was kissed more soundly than she had ever been.

“
Oh, how could you?
”
she asked him miserably.

“
Very easily
!”
he assured her.

“
That
’
s what I thought,
”
she
said bitterly.
“
That
’
s what a dress and Island music will do for you! You can
’
t pretend that it means a thing! Anita was
quite right—
”

“
Helen—
”

She put her hands over her ears.
“
I won
’
t listen! I won
’
t! I won
’
t! And I won
’
t dance with you again! Not ever!
”

He allowed her to leave the floor and she should have been pleased that he didn
’
t follow her, but she wasn
’
t. She saw
Anita dancing with Peter and tried to smile at her, but found
s
he
couldn
’
t. Her whole face felt frozen and odd. She wanted to leave the party then and there, but she knew that Miss Corrigan would be hurt if she did. There was nothing to prevent her going upstairs for a moment or two, though, where she could calm herself, and tell herself what a fool she was.

When she came downstairs again, she had resigned herself to a sober future that consisted largely of hard work and well-schooled emotions kept severely in the background where they belonged. That such a future gave her very little pleasure even to think about was something she was determined to keep entirely to her
self. After all, there was more to life than floating round a ballroom, or dancing primitive dances in a spectacular and unsuitable dress. But was there, an unbidden voice inside her demanded, more to life than the subtle chemistry that passed between a man and a woman at any time? But that was another thing that, at that moment, she was in no mood to admit.

CHAPTER TEN

MISS CORRIGAN thought with satisfaction that it was the best party she had ever given. The music had been good, the food was better, and the American guests, with their customary generosity, had done everything they could to enjoy themselves. It had been an exhausting evening. There had been so much to do. Miss Corrigan had felt obliged to persona
l
ly oversee the roasting of the sucking pigs, helping to make
the clay
ovens and even to wrap the pigs in the leaves that gave that special delicate flavour. Then she had had to choose the lobsters and see that they were properly dressed. And there had been the clams to bake and the Island people to entertain, because she wouldn
’
t have had them feel left out for worlds. But it had all ended very satisfactorily and
s
he felt she could relax now and enjoy herself by joining in with the dancing outside.

Miss Corrigan had lived for so long on the Islands that she felt more at home there than with the more civilised West. She was enchanted by the fairy lights that hung everywhere and the seductive music that she knew from experience would go on all night, only to die away with the first rays of the dawning sun.

When she caught a glimpse of Helen
’
s dress, she thought at first that she was still with Gregory and was pleased, but then she saw that the girl was alone, leaning against a palm-tree, listening to the Island music as it went on all about her.

“
I thought you were dancing!
”
she said roughly to the girl, noting her startled expression as she was
brought back to reality with a bump.
“
Does something to you, this music, doesn
’
t it?
”

“
I prefer it out here,
”
Helen answered.

Miss Corrigan nodded briskly.
“
Even the Islanders are growing sophisticated,
”
she said.
“
A few years ago and they would have died at the thought of playing for outsiders.
”

Helen smiled.
“
Out here they are playing for themselves,
”
she observed.
“
I thought at first it was the same as Hawaiian music, but it isn
’
t, is it?
”

“
All Polynesian music is much the same,
”
Miss Corrigan told her.
“
From the Maoris to the Melongese, you get the same beautiful melodies. The same grass skirts too, some people will tell you, but I find them very different from island to island, even in this little group.
”

“
You love them, don
’
t you?
”
Helen said.

“
I wouldn
’
t have stayed here so long if I didn
’
t!
”
Miss Corrigan said frankly.
“
How about you?
”

“
Me?
”
Helen sounded startled. She didn
’
t want to talk about herself.
“
I shan
’
t be here for very much longer,
”
she said.
“
Tomorrow we
’
ll bring up the gold with any luck and then there
’
ll be nothing for me to stay for.
”

Miss Corrigan looked sad.
“
I rather hoped you might find something to stay for,
”
she suggested.

But Helen shook her head .positively.
“
There
’
s nothing for me here. Nothing at all! It
’
s been a pleasant interlude, but now I have to get on with my life. I want to find something to do that
’
s worthwhile and—and
suitable
.
”

“
Suitable?
”
Miss Corrigan repeated with raised eyebrows.
“
My dear girl, are you sure you know what you
’
re talking about?
”

Helen was silent. She was still smarting inwardly from her dance with Gregory and she wasn
’
t prepared to talk about it.
“
I must go to bed,
”
She said instead.
“
I want to be fresh for the morning. It
’
s going to be quite a day!
”

“
Very well,
”
Miss Corrigan agreed easily.
“
I
’
ll say goodnight to you, then.
”

“
Goodnight,
”
Helen responded.
“
It was a lovely party, Miss Corrigan. Thank you very much.
”

“
The party was for my own pleasure,
”
Miss Corrigan retorted sharply.
“
Helen, look after Gregory tomorrow, won
’
t you
?”

H
el
en stiffened.
“
I
’
ll do my best, but he
’
s more than capable of looking after himself. He won
’
t thank me if I interfere!
”

“
Is it thanks you
’
re looking for?
”
Miss Corrigan asked her innocently.

Helen refused to answer. She watched Miss Corrigan disappear through the palm trees and be greeted by her Islanders. She was totally at home amongst them, they were like her own family, so how could she know how Helen felt, who had no family and no place of her own
?

There was no one about whom
she
knew when she made her way inside to the lift. There was a lot of laughter and a few people were still dancing, but with midnight the party was coming to an end. Helen stepped into the lift and pressed the button that would take her up to her floor. It hardly took a moment to remove her finery and to wash the makeup from her face. She slipped into a nightgown and. pushed back the bedclothes ready to get into bed. She was very, very tired and it was important for her to get to sleep, but sleep had never seemed further away. It seemed to her that whenever she shut her eyes she could hear Anita saying coldly,
“
Michael would not have approved
!”

When she slept, it was to dream of her mother-in-law. There were flashes of happiness that came to nothing as the elder Mrs. Hastings took the moments away from her, one by one. When Helen half-stirred and woke, she dismissed her firmly from her mind,
but there was still Michael to point an accusing
finger at her whenever Gregory
’
s shadow crossed her path. She was Michael
’
s widow,
Michael
’
s widow
! She was lost before she began.

In the cold light of dawn she felt drawn and exhausted. She didn
’
t have to go to the window to see if the uncanny stillness was still with them,
she
could feel it all about her where she lay.

Gregory walked along the jetty with only a stick to help him. He limped rather, but otherwise he looked much as usual, his bare feet slapping against the bamboo.

“
No Anita today?
”
he called out to Helen.

“
She
’
s helping Peter to clear up after the party,
”
she told him. She wondered if she should offer to help him on board, but there was something in his eyes that forbade her.

“
Have you checked the equipment?
”
he asked her curtly.

She made a face. She had checked it at least half a dozen times and it still meant that they were cutting things finer than they should. If it had not been for the coming typhoon, nothing would have induced her to go out today before their fresh supplies had arrived.

“
We
’
ll make it—if we
’
re lucky!
”
she said awkwardly.

His disapproval was clear to see.
“
Luck shouldn
’
t come into it. However, I suppose it can
’
t be helped. Na-Tinn! Taine-Mal! Jump to it! I want to leave straightaway!
”

Helen went below as soon as she could. Quite suddenly she felt better and able to laugh at herself. She rejoiced that she was dressed once more in grubby jeans and an American shirt, it was just as though her troubles had gone with the elaborate dress of the night before. It hadn
’
t been
her
that he had kissed at all! It had been a pretty stranger in a very pretty dress who had been banished from his thoughts as
easily as the music that had inspired their dance together.
She had been ridiculous to worry! If he could dismiss the incident so easily, why so could she!

She was humming as s
h
e made, herself some coffee, scraping out the instant grounds from the bottom of the tin. She couldn
’
t put a name to the tune, but it was pretty and she liked it.

“
Is any of that coffee for me?
”
Gregory asked her, coming into the saloon as the
Sweet Promise
slipped from the harbour.

“
It will be rather weak,
”
she apologised.

“
Are we running out of coffee too?
”
he said irritably.

“
It looks like it,
”
she answered cheerfully.

He drank his coffee in silence. He drank it black, without any sugar, because otherwise he felt it would be so weak that he wouldn
’
t be able to taste it at all.

“
Anita will have to go!
”
he said at last.

“
What?
”
she said. Whatever she had expected him to say, it hadn
’
t been that!

“
She’ll have to go,” he repeated. “She’s unreliable. When we move on from here, we can’t continue to carry her.”

Helen stared at him in silence.

“Don’t look so surprised!” he went on irritably. “You know as well as I do that she’s done prac
t
ically nothing for her pay!”

“That isn’t fair!” Helen protested automatically.

“Oh, isn’t it?” he retorted. “Then what would you do about her?”

“I don’t think we’ll have to bother,” Helen heard herself saying. “She seems quite interested in the hotel.”

Gregory laughed. “In Peter Harmon, you mean! Well, good luck to her!”

Helen drank her
coffee with dignity. She wanted to ask him where he was going when he left the
Islands, and why he should include her, but she didn
’
t like to. She had only just recovered her balance after her run in with him the night before and she wasn
’
t ready to take any risks.

“
Are you sure you
’
ll be able to dive?
”
she asked instead.

“
Just as well as I can dance!
”
he said flatly.

Helen swallowed.
“
Then you must be feeling pretty fit,
”
she said mildly.
“
I don
’
t fancy going down alone
!”
She shivered at the thought, and hoped he hadn
’
t noticed. But he had, of course. His eyes softened and he grinned at her.

“
Don
’
t worry!
”
he said.
“
I
’
ll be there!
”

She might have retorted that it didn
’
t matter to her one way or the other, but she was too honest for that. There were many things that she could do alone, but going into that black hole that she had cut in the side of the frigate was not one of them. For that she needed his presence,
his
presence, for no one else would do for that.

“
I think I
’
ll go and get ready,
”
she said.

“
Okay,
”
he drawled.
“
I
’
ll see you on deck.
”

She didn
’
t go up on deck though until they had sighted the marker buoys she had left above the wreck the day before. They sat there, exactly where she had left, motionless on a motionless sea.

Taine-Mal helped her into the harness which held the cylinders of compressed air and her other equipment, and then she went over the side without waiting for Gregory, wanting to check on her work before he came. She thought she had imagined the faint breeze that seemed to cross the surface of the water, but a second later when she saw the buoys rocking, she knew that the wind was indeed getting up.