A Mortal Sin (15 page)

“Sounds good. Albury won’t be too far from Mum and Dad.”

“What are you going to do about Ashfield?”

“How do you mean?” she asked.

“Well, after what he did.”

“I’ve more or less forgiven him. I love him so much I don’t think I can do anything else.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Maybe I am. I’ll write to Mum and Dad tonight and tell them their runaway son is well.”

“Yeah, I’ll write and tell them what an idiot their daughter is.” He grinned suddenly. “He must have pulled strings.”

“Paul?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s a major.”

“That doesn’t mean much out here. Have you ever heard of an officer bringing someone’s sister into a garrison force like this for a visit?”

“No, I hadn’t thought about it. He went to school with some colonel who’s out here, but really it’s his father, Sir Phillip, who has friends in high places, lots of pull and is not above using it.”

There was a knock and a young private stuck his head around the door.

“Like some tea, Miss?”

“I’ve had some, thanks.”

“You’re a lucky devil, Rob, how about introducing us.”

“Gordon, this is Daphne, my sister.”

“Rob often talks about you.” Gordon came in and lounged against the wall.

“You’re going to be business partners, I understand,” she said.

“Yeah, we’ll make a fortune.”

He was a thin, wiry youth, with teeth that flashed starkly white in his tanned face.

Another knock, and another young soldier came in, followed by three more in quick succession. They were all young, fit, tanned and lonely.

“We’ll end up with the whole of ‘A’ Company here soon,” Rob said with a grin.

It was pleasant talking to the boys and finding out where they came from. Most were Victorians, a handful were from New South Wales. They were hungry for news of home but she didn’t have much to pass on.

Plied with so many cups of tea, she felt awash with it by the time Captain Albright returned with Paul.

“Good God, boys. What’s this, a union meeting?” the captain asked with a chuckle.

“No, Sir.”

“They’re Robbie’s friends.” Daphne watched annoyance tighten Paul’s face. “We were having a good time reminiscing about home.”

“It’s time we were leaving.”

“Sure we couldn’t offer you something, Major Ashfield,” Captain Albright asked.

“No thanks, I’ve just had tea with the C.O.”

“Okay men, better be getting about your business.” They left, laughing and jostling each other as they did so.

“Rob, do you want a few minutes to farewell your sister,” Paul said.

“Nah. See you, Daffy. Thanks for bringing her out here, Sir.”

“That’s all right,” Paul said. “Hopefully we’ll see you in Singapore when you get leave. We could dine out together.”

“Goodbye, Robbie.” Daphne gave him a hug.

“Write to Mum about how fit looking I am, won’t you, Daph? She worries about me.”

“Of course I will, and you take care of yourself. Make sure you look me up when you get leave in Singapore.”

They left straight away. Daphne waved to Rob until they turned a bend and the jungle swallowed him up. “He didn’t look well, Paul.”

“No.”

“He said he’s been suffering from Malaria. They should admit him to hospital if he’s sick.”

“Probably only got a mild dose, but still it leaves a person weak. I had a bout of it myself not long after I arrived here. It’s debilitating in this climate; takes a while to pick up afterwards. You’re a nurse, you should know that.”

“There was something else worrying him, but I’m not sure what.”

It was dark by the time they arrived back at the bungalow. Paul wanted to take her out to dinner somewhere, but she was physically and emotionally drained.

They ate at Molly’s, and instinctively Daphne knew neither Paul nor Molly liked each other. Nothing was said, although the doctor’s tone appeared more caustic than usual, her wit rapier sharp. Paul on the other hand remained cold and aloof, so the meal was not a social success.

Daphne saw Paul out, and in the shelter of the tall shrubs in the front garden, eagerly went into his arms. He held her close, his mouth warm and firm against her trembling lips, just as she remembered.

“When can I see my lovely girl again?” he asked, nuzzling her throat.

“I’m not sure.” Don’t fall into his hand like a ripe plum. Let him suffer a little. You wouldn’t survive if he betrayed you again.

“I’m busy tomorrow. I’ll be tied up with my colonel all day. What about Wednesday evening? I’ve been invited to a dinner party. Come with me. It’s in a private home. Please come.”

Still she hesitated, fighting the urge to say. Yes, a hundred times yes. I’d go to the ends of the earth for you.

“There’s a war on, Daphne. We mightn’t have much time. Every minute is precious.”

“All right.”

He gave a sudden groan and pulled her back into his arms. This time his lips were passionate and demanding. “Open your mouth,” he instructed huskily. His tongue explored the sweetness within, thrusting, probing, tasting, taking all she was prepared to give but still wanting more. His hands moving restlessly across her back before drifting to her buttocks. He arched her body into his, and she felt the ridge of his arousal, the heat of his need. Suddenly he let her go.

“Until Wednesday, I’ll pick you up about eight.” He disappeared into the darkness.

Daphne returned to the house. She didn’t know it, but her mouth was still soft and tremulous from Paul’s fierce kisses, her eyes brimming with love. Molly, seeing this, felt an overwhelming fear for her. What if he betrayed her again? This sweet girl was too good for the likes of him. Jealousy clawed through her, tinged with desperation. She clenched her hands behind her back to stop herself from reaching out and stroking Daphne’s flushed cheeks.

“You look exhausted, dear. Why don’t you trot off to bed?”

“I’m fine.”

“Doctor’s orders, hm.”

“Thanks, you’re so good to me.” She kissed Molly’s cheek.

Patience Molly told herself, and one day soon Daphne would be hers, to cosset and treasure for the rest of their lives.

After Daphne retired, Molly paced the floor for a time. Lighting a cigarette she took a couple of nervous puffs, stubbed it out and lit another. I’m doing this for you, my angel. He isn’t worthy of you, no man is. They wouldn’t cherish you as I would. I want to give, while him and his kind, only know how to take.

How opportune that Amelia had called around on the pretext of having her blood pressure taken. They both knew it was an excuse to find out about Daphne and Paul. Molly had regaled Amelia with all she knew, playing the role of concerned employer to the hilt. Whether the other woman guessed the true reason, Molly neither knew nor really cared. Amelia promised to play her part in a charade tomorrow that would have Daphne finishing with Paul Ashfield once and for all.

Molly knew Amelia was a spiteful, vindictive bitch. They had always detested each other even when they were at school, but because Amelia did not want her relationship with Paul severed, she could be trusted. Almost too easy, the cleverest plans were always the simplest, Molly thought.

Chapter Eleven

Daphne was surprised when Amelia Hildebrandt minced into Molly’s surgery next morning.

“Get Mrs. Hildebrandt’s chest x-rays will you, please Daph? I left them in the filing cabinet, bottom drawer, I think. Or maybe it could have been the top one.”

“How are you feeling today, Mrs. Hildebrandt?”

“I still have the pain in my chest, doctor. Since Nigel died, it’s been worse.”

Their voices floated out to Daphne in the next room.

“You should take it easy, no worry and complete rest.”

Where on earth did Molly put the x-rays? She was always so careless with the films. They weren’t in the bottom drawer. Daphne started on the next one. The mention of Paul’s name brought her head up, and her hand froze on the drawer.

“It’s quite scandalous the way he carries on with women.” Amelia had an over-exaggerated accent. “I know what he’s like. We’re two of a kind, out for a good time, no strings attached. But that poor girl, I mean to say she’s in love with him. Bet he didn’t mention his fiancée?”

“Is he engaged? Molly asked. “Anyone I know?”

“No.” Amelia’s laugh tinkled like broken glass. “Caroline Bowater in England. They would have been married by now if he hadn’t been shipped out here.”

The room spun. Daphne clung to the desk as tears sprang to her eyes. Paul, how could you hurt me like this, again? She forced herself to search through a different drawer until she finally found the missing x-rays. Scrubbing her wet cheeks with trembling fingers she extracted the films for Molly.

“Sorry it took so long, they were incorrectly filed.”

“That’s all right, dear. Aren’t you well? You’re a trifle pale.”

“I do feel a bit queasy, Molly.”

“Go home, I can cope here.”

“If you’re sure, maybe I will,” Daphne said wearily, feeling about a hundred years old and so sad. She would never be happy again.

Back at the bungalow she rang British H.Q. and asked for Paul. I won’t cry, I won’t. She gritted her teeth. You fool, you’ve already shed too many tears over him. She knew the way he operated, how little respect he had for women. Who would know better than me she thought bitterly, wondering how she could have been gullible enough to fall for his lies again. He was a cheating, immoral playboy.

“Major Ashfield speaking.”

“It’s Daphne.”

“How are you, darling?”

“All right.” She forced herself to speak calmly, instead of going into hysterics, throwing herself on the floor kicking and screaming, breaking something. Anything to ease the pain of his betrayal. Caroline Bowater was welcome to him. “I won’t be able to come out with you tomorrow.”

“Why not?”

“It’s best if we don’t see each other again, Paul.”

“What is it? What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” she said flatly. “It just isn’t decent going out with a man who’s already engaged.” Slowly she put the receiver down, congratulating herself for keeping her voice steady and not letting him know her devastation. A carefree laugh would have added a nice touch, but she was physically beyond it. It would be a miracle if she ever laughed again.

* * *

When Paul rang that evening Daphne refused to come to the phone, because hearing his voice would increase her agony. She was already suffering enough. How much more could a person endure before completely cracking up?

He came over, and she refused to see him. He pushed past Molly and strode into the sitting room.

Daphne felt sickly and he looked white and strained.

“We need to talk, I can explain about Caroline.”

“You promised, Paul. You hurt me once and swore it wouldn’t happen again.”

“I love you, Daphne, I swear it.”

“You’re not engaged to Caroline?” She blinked back tears. “On your word of honor. Are you and Caroline engaged?”

“Yes, but...”

She turned away and stared out the window. “I’d like you to leave. It will be best if we don’t see each other again.” Pain throbbed in her voice and her shoulders slumped. Once again, Paul had torn her heart to shreds.

“You heard her, Ashfield. Get out.”

“Daphne, please.”

“I don’t want to see you anymore, Paul. If you have any feeling for me at all, you won’t pester me again.”

“Pester! If that’s what you call it.” He took offence. “Very well,” his voice became clipped. “I wouldn’t want to be accused of pestering any woman. Goodbye.” With a rigid back he strode out of the house.

* * *

A few days later, Molly’s household was disturbed in the middle of the night by frenzied hammering on the door. A wild-eyed Malay woman stood there gabbling about an accident in a nearby village.

Molly grabbed her medical bag. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, should be right for afternoon clinic, though.”

By mid-morning, Daphne started feeling anxious. Not only had Molly not returned yet, but the houseboy had not put in an appearance, and the old Japanese man who maintained the garden seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth. Daphne ate a solitary meal, after which she paced the floor, wondering what on earth had held Molly up.

When she failed to arrive for afternoon clinic, Daphne reluctantly sent the patients away. By the time she returned to the bungalow she felt really worried. Should she call the police? What if Molly had broken down somewhere? She would be upset at any undue fuss.

Daphne was almost glad when it got dark enough to go to bed. If Molly doesn’t show up by morning, regardless of the consequences, I’m going to the police.

About midnight, a rattling and banging at the door woke Daphne, and her heart rose up into her mouth. Obeying Molly’s instructions that whenever she was alone at night to lock the place securely, she had done so. Sliding out of bed she went into Molly’s room without turning on the lights. The hair at the back of her neck rose when she heard rustling noises outside in the bushes. Were there voices? Of course not, stop imagining things, you idiot.

In the top left-hand drawer of the dressing table she fumbled around, until her fingers felt the cold steel of the loaded pistol Molly always kept there for emergencies. Through a crack in the window she saw the moon, then for an instant it disappeared. Fear almost choked her. Someone had passed by the house and blocked off the moon’s rays.

There was a moaning noise, a dragging sound, followed by a deathly silence more frightening than anything she had ever encountered. Her hands felt clammy, her chest so tight with fear it was agony to even breathe. She went to the telephone. With shaking fingers she dialed the first number popping into her head.

It rang and rang, until just when she reached the point of hanging up, an irate male voice snarled, “Major Ashfield.”

“Paul, it’s Daphne.”

“We don’t have anything worth saying to each other.” His voice sounded harsh, devoid of any warmth.

“Don’t hang up please, I’m frightened.” Silence. “Something terrible has happened.” Her fear must have pierced his anger. She started crying and talking at the one time, babbling about Molly who hadn’t returned and the strange noises in the garden.