Destiny's Path (27 page)

He studied her thoughtfully. ‘The same gentleman also offers lodgings, which his wife manages. You’ll be quite safe there, though some people prefer accommodation run by Europeans. I can arrange that too.’

‘No need. The guide and his daughter sound ideal.’

So there she was, on a tropical island, staying with people who offered her new and exciting food to eat, showed her a different lifestyle and made her temporary stay extremely comfortable. Soft-footed servants forestalled her every need, washed her clothes and brought her refreshments.

She would have time to look around and try as many new things as she could.

Not till she was in bed did she admit to herself that it would have been even better – utterly perfect – if she’d had someone to share these new experiences with.

And of course that thought brought Ronan to mind again. It had been over three weeks now since she’d seen him. Was he well? Was he still at Conn’s?

Was he thinking of her?

When Ronan regained consciousness, he found himself lying on a makeshift mattress on the floor. He tried to speak but it seemed too much effort and although the man kneeling beside him was asking him something, he couldn’t make sense of the words, so he closed his eyes again.

Bram looked at Dougal. ‘He’s not really conscious.’

‘No. He’s lucky to be alive, with such a blow to the head. I shall have to leave you to look after him. We’ve a few repairs to make and we need to rig a temporary mast, but we’ve enough sail left to get us to Galle.’

‘The quicker we get there the better. He needs to see a doctor. He’s so pale. Does anyone on the ship have any medical knowledge?’

‘I know how to deal with cuts and bruises, and I can get the ship’s sailmaker to stitch up that cut to help it heal. He’s done that a few times and he’s quite good at it. I can set simple broken bones, but I’m no good at stitchery.’ He laughed.

Bram didn’t feel at all like laughing. ‘What am I going to do about Ronan, then?’

Dougal stood up, his voice gentler than usual. ‘There’s nothing you can do except keep him as clean and peaceful as possible. You and he can stay here in my cabin till we arrive. Once yours is waterproof again, I’ll use that. We’ll be in Galle in two or three days because the storm pushed us along faster than usual. How did you enjoy your first taste of a storm at sea? Exhilarating to pit yourself against nature, isn’t it?’

‘Exhilarating!’ Bram shuddered. ‘How can you say that? I didn’t enjoy it at all. In fact, it made me decide this will be my first and last voyage to the Orient with you.’

Dougal laughed again. ‘Well, you’d better learn all you can, then. I’ll leave you to your nursing. The sailmaker will be here shortly. Ask the steward if you need anything – or if you need me. Try to get Ronan to sip some water, if you can, or trickle it into his mouth. Someone once told me people can die of thirst while they’re unconscious. When we get to Galle, we can find a doctor for your friend if he still needs help.’

He patted Bram on the back. ‘People usually recover quite well on their own from head injuries, you know. There’s nothing much doctors can do about them. They can’t see inside someone’s brain, after all.’

The sailmaker came and sewed up the cut, cleaning his needle in a flame first and chatting cheerfully as he worked. He made a very neat job of it, too.

When he wasn’t pacing up and down, Bram sat on one of the chairs in this larger cabin. He kept an eye on Ronan, worried sick about his friend, and every now and then he trickled some water into his mouth, finding that if he did this a drop or two at a time, it seemed to go down easily enough.

When he was a child he’d seen one of the village lads die of a simple blow to the head, lying there unconscious until he simply stopped breathing. He’d seen others with cuts to the head that poured blood till you’d think they had major injuries, and yet they needed nothing except the cut washing and a little attention to it for a day or two, and they recovered fully.

Ronan’s brother and mother had both died this year. Surely God wouldn’t take him too?

What the hell am I going to tell people if you die
? he thought as he looked at Ronan’s pale, slack face with the livid scar surrounded by bruised flesh stitched together.
You don’t even look like Ronan at the moment
.

Xanthe found her guide’s daughter extremely good company. Anusha was about twenty, spoke perfect English and seemed to understand exactly what to explain to a stranger to help her understand this new world.

Anusha’s father watched them indulgently and often absented himself from outings in Galle itself, though when they spent a day in the countryside to see a tea plantation or went outside the town to drink fresh coconut milk and eat fruits Xanthe had never even heard of before, he went with them.

‘Better that he’s with us for protection,’ Anusha whispered to Xanthe.

In her letters, Pandora had said how much she’d hated the heat of Galle and Egypt, but Xanthe loved it. She wore as little as was respectable, thinking the other ladies foolish for keeping on their corsets. You could see at a glance from their rigid bearing that they were wearing them, and they looked flushed and uncomfortable. No wonder ladies fainted if they put corsets before common sense!

With just four days to go till she boarded her ship, Xanthe was strolling round the ramparts one day when she saw a schooner approaching.

‘It’s just a small trader,’ Anusha said. ‘That ship calls here sometimes. The captain’s a big man with a beard.’

‘Let’s go and watch it dock.’

‘If you wish.’

Xanthe hid a smile. If Anusha didn’t want to do something, she always said ‘If you wish’. Well, Xanthe did wish and since she was paying Anusha a daily rate for her companionship, she intended to do what
she
wanted.

They strolled to the harbour and watched the ship position itself at one of the moorings. A man came up on deck, looking worried as he talked urgently to the captain. Something about the man made Xanthe take a second look, then hurry towards the ship. It was Bram, surely it was?

The closer she got the more certain she became that it was him and without consciously thinking about it, she started running, calling out to him.

A couple of natives yelled something, so did a sailor on the ship. The captain and his companion turned towards her as she closed the distance between them.

‘Xanthe!’ Bram called. ‘What are you doing here? We thought you’d be in Egypt by now.’

‘I’m waiting for a passage on the next steamship. Are you on your way back to Ireland?’

‘No.’ He hesitated, then asked, ‘I’ll explain about myself later. Look, do you know of a doctor here? Ronan’s on board but he’s been hurt in a fall.’

She lost all desire to smile. ‘He’s hurt? Badly?’

‘We’re not sure. He got hit on the head and has been drifting in and out of consciousness for nearly three days. I don’t know what to do for him, where to take him.’

‘Wait!’ She turned to Anusha, who had joined them at a more leisurely pace. ‘A good friend of mine is on this ship and he’s been injured. Is there a doctor who can see him? What should we do to help him?’

Anusha immediately lost her air of leisurely dignity. ‘There’s a good doctor in the next street to us and I’m sure my mother would take in your friend.’

‘How do we get him there?’

Anusha studied Bram, then asked in an undertone, ‘Will you be safe if I leave you with this man?’

‘Yes, very safe. He’s a friend of my family.’

‘Then if you stay here, I’ll make the arrangements.’ She hesitated then added, ‘Your friend can pay?’

‘Oh, yes.’ She thought it prudent to add, ‘He’s a gentleman, not rich but not short of money, either.’ She didn’t want anyone thinking they could charge ridiculous prices for anything.

‘That’s good. I won’t be long.’

Anusha hurried off and Bram helped Xanthe board the ship, introducing her to the captain and explaining quickly what had been arranged. Then he turned to her. ‘Do you want to see Ronan? We brought his bed up on deck. He’s over there, under the awning.’

Swallowing hard, afraid of what she would find or that she would betray her feelings, Xanthe followed him across the deck.

It was worse than she’d expected. It was Ronan’s face, but without the vivid, expressive life that was so typical of him. And his temple was badly bruised with a sewn line of flesh across it. He’d have a bad scar there when he recovered.

She looked again at his face and couldn’t prevent the thought
if he recovered
from slipping into her mind. But she didn’t let it stay there. She sat beside him and took hold of his hand, speaking as if he could understand her. ‘It’s Xanthe. I’m here with you now, Ronan, and I’m going to look after you until you’re better. You’ve been hit on the head but you’re in Galle and it’s a delightful place. You’re sure to recover quickly here.’

She kept hold of his hand, talking quietly about what she’d been doing while she waited for Anusha to return with help.

Watching them, Bram thought the love on her face far more beautiful than the mere arrangement of her features. One day, he wanted to be loved like that. Only, since he wasn’t from a wealthy landowning family, surely he wouldn’t face such difficulties about marrying the woman he loved? From things Ronan had let drop he was quite sure his friend loved this woman.

Both the Blake twins had been unlucky. One was in love with Conn, who wasn’t free to marry, the other with Ronan, who might be free but would look for a woman of his own sort when he came to marry. The gentry always did.

He looked along the quay and saw two bearers approaching with a carrying frame, followed by the young woman who had been with Xanthe. He went across to her. ‘Your friend’s returned with some bearers.’

Xanthe looked up, seeming not to hear him for a moment, so hard had she been concentrating on the still figure beside her. Then she blinked and looked in the direction of his pointing finger. ‘Oh. Good.’ She bent over Ronan and said, ‘We’re going to carry you ashore now and get a doctor to help you.’

He opened his eyes, stared at her and whispered. ‘Don’t go. I know you’re only a dream, but don’t go.’ Then he closed his eyes again.

That was a good sign, wasn’t it? she thought.

The bearers came on board and under the directions of the two women lifted Ronan gently on to the frame.

‘Someone is coming for his luggage,’ the native woman said, in perfect English.

‘I’ll get it ready,’ Bram replied. ‘Tell me how to find Ronan later, after we’ve dealt with the cargo.’

‘He’ll be in our house, which is by the market. You can’t mistake it, it has a blue awning over the front door.’

He watched them go, wondering if Ronan would recover – surely he would? – then he turned back to Dougal, who was directing the unloading of the cargo he wished to sell.

‘This evening we’ll go and see that Ronan is all right.’

Dougal nodded, his attention still mainly on the men unloading the cargo and the crew member directing them.

Bram went to fetch a few things he’d got from Ronan’s mother’s luggage, trinkets Dougal said would fetch more money in Galle. He’d need every penny he could get if he was to succeed in his new life in Australia.

Ronan gradually became aware that he felt far more comfortable than he had for some time and sighed in relief that his bed was no longer rising and falling beneath him. Even the pounding pain in his head seemed to have abated.

Someone wiped his brow with a cool cloth and spoke to him quietly. He knew that voice. Opening his eyes, he saw Xanthe sitting beside him. ‘Are you a dream?’

She smiled. ‘What a question! Of course I’m not.’

‘You’ve been in my dreams a lot.’

Her smile faded. ‘Have I?’

‘Yes. I missed you.’ He closed his eyes but found no desire to sleep so opened them again. ‘Where am I?’

‘Galle. You had an accident on board your ship. I gather you hit your head during a storm and you’ve been unconscious for days.’

‘It hurts.’ He tried to put his hand up to it, but it felt too much of an effort.

‘Could you drink some water for me? It’s been boiled, so it’s quite safe to drink. The doctor said it was important to keep giving you drinks, more important than food.’

‘I’d love some. I’m very thirsty.’

‘I can’t give you too much at once.’ She held him up and put an engraved metal cup to his lips, allowing him to drink a little then laying him down again.

He didn’t want to lie down. He wanted to be held close to her soft breasts again. She smelled of something both spicy and flowery and she was wearing a brightly coloured garment like none he’d ever seen before. ‘What are you wearing? Is that your nightgown?’

She laughed. ‘No, of course not. It’s an Indian garment that Anusha likes to wear round the house. It’s called a sari. And I must say, it’s very comfortable.’

‘That vivid pink suits you.’ He smiled at her, feeling too lazy to say much.

‘Do you think you could drink a little more now?’

‘Yes, please.’