Full Tide (14 page)

“Candidly, no—not right away. But I’m hoping very much to persuade you to accept it, Lee. If you do, it will be marvellous for both of us. Don’t you see,” he
said eagerly, “what wonderful times we’d have? Astra’s
a
worker and she’ll expect plenty of hard graft from both of us, but it will be thrilling sort of work, of a kind neither of us ever anticipated we’d be fit for.”

“And it; would last just six months;
”
she remind
e
d him. Slowly, she asked, “Didn’t you wonder why Astra should haul me in? After all, I’m not trained in secretarial duties
and she must have realized I’d far rather watch a play than act in one.”

“She wants you for the same reason she picked on me
.
Think how much easier it will be for her to arrive in South Africa with a primed leading man and a secretary who' knows exactly what will be expected of her. You could do that job on your head, Lee!
”

“I shan’t try. Astra will have to look elsewhere for a secretary.”

He did not flood her with protests, as he might have done a week ago. Daily contact with Astra had lent him poise and a degree of patience, and he had been prepared for opposition. Lee, the sweet thing, was prejudiced.

“
You’re the girl who was longing for things to happen,” he jeered lightly. “Here you have an opportunity of a six months’ well-paid job in the grandest country in the world and you’re too scared to take it.”

“Not scared,” she answered levelly. “My feet are on
the
ground, that’s all. If you’d had to earn a living since
y
ou were seventeen, you’d be less impressionable, too, Jeremy.” She paused. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that by turning me into a paid help she loses your parents their strongest ally? If I join her you’re bound to.”

“Of course I am! You make it appear that she’s full of intrigue, but she’s
r
eally only behaving sensibly.”

“In her own interests! She thinks her money and reputation can perform miracles—that she can take a fancy to a fair, handsome young man and buy him as a foil to her own type of beauty and clever acting
...
and that obstacles to his acquisition can be bought o
v
er as they crop up. Probably I’m the first obstacle she hasn’t been able to buy.”

Jeremy leaned closer, took her wrist in his hands and stroked it. “Don’t get heated up, darling. Do you know what Astra said to me yesterday? She said you were bright and pretty and just old-fashioned e
n
ough to make a splendid wife. She accused me, very good-humoredly, of being in love with you.”

How dense men c
o
uld be, she thought with exasperation. Couldn’t he see that Astra had been preparing him for a struggle? The actress had not undervalued Lisa’s sin
c
erity and partisanship, and she had naturally considered how best to circumvent them. By pointing out Lisa’s virtues to Jeremy she was paving the path for his persuasions and at the same time yielding him the assurance that she would never stand in the way of the friendship.

“You’re awfully
b
lind,” she said, “or else you simply refuse to look six months ahead. Be sane about this, Jeremy. Six months is long enough to spoil you for any other kind of living. If you had to turn to engineering the wrench would be tremendous and you’d resent it dreadfully. You might never get over the bitterness of it.”

“You’re the heaviest of wet blankets, Lee. It’s quite on the cards that I’d be a success.”

'“A theatrical success in
South Africa doesn’t rate very high elsewhere. How could it, when the white population is so small? For regular engagements you’d have to go to England, where you’d find yourself in competition with men from the Academy and the repertory companies.” Her tone hardened. “Astra knows all this much better than I do, but she won’t put it to you. She’s not accustomed to being thwarted, so your hesitation has made her all the more determined to have you. She didn’t really intend to arrive in Johannesburg with a leading man—you
happened to be on the ship, she had the whim to train you, and now she refuses to face the failure of her own plan.”

“My darling Lisa,” he said with a hint of vexation, “your logic
is
like a
flight of stone steps—
it has
nasty edges.”

“And it leads,” she replied steadily, “to the fact
that
Astra Carmichael will cheerfully ruin your future so long as she gets what she wants.”

“Sometimes,” Jeremy said with moody exasperation, “I wish I’d flown home as my people asked, instead of coming round by sea. I’d have been spared this, and I like to believe I’d have run into you somehow in Durban.”

“It doesn’t do any harm to fight a few temptations.
”
Which was horribly trite, but she could not rise to anything wiser.

“I’d sooner avoid them.” He let out a sharp breath. “Don’t seem to have got anywhere, do we?”

Lisa opened her eyes and sat forward. “We’ve done well. I wouldn’t work for Astra for a hundred pounds a week, and you’re wishing you’d never encountered the woman. That’s not bad.”

He gave her a sideways, half-smiling grimace. “Don’t make up your mind you’ve won, because you “haven’t. I’ve no intention of making an
e
nemy of Astra Carmichael. Tonight we have the play-reading, and tomorrow is the last day before Cape Town. My best plan is to keep her guessing for a few days.” He smiled wholly now, with nonchalance and a trace of belligerence. “To be honest, I’m still guessing myself. I’ve a good mind to kiss you, Lisa Maxwell, just to bolster my self-respect.”

He did kiss Lisa, leaning over to press his mouth to her cheek. Then, a trifle self-consciously, he stood up, extended a helping hand and linked his arm companionably with hers.

They were late for lunch; so late that the saloon was half empty. Mark’s chair, Lisa noticed with a twist of the heart, was pushed under the table and a vase of flowers stood where his place was usually set. He must have had lunch brought to the big, many-windowed cabin on the bridge.

Straight after lunch she and Nancy got down to an arithmetic test, after which Nancy was allowed to go to the children’s film show, while
L
isa and Jeremy played their deck-tennis final and won.

There was talk of a big night tomorrow, before the
Wentworth
docked at Cape Town the following morning. Those who possessed fancy dress were requested to wear it, and others were to put themselves out to be at their most sparkling. Apart from its being the gayest night of the trip, the sports prizes would be presented and a concert given by the passengers themselves with the aid of the ship’s orchestra. The children would have their own particular treat in the afternoon.

D
ispassionately, Lisa inspected her three frocks. The stain on the aquamarine not only refused to be sponged out; it had spread and darkened. The black,
which
she would be wearing this evening, was anything but festive th
o
ugh it suited her hair and skin. Which left only the white, and that had been worn so often with and without the ruby silk bolero that she felt she must be known by it. Oh, for the length of rainbow georgette which by now had doubtless passed into the possession of some other tourist.

In the lounge before dinner she had a quick cocktail with Mrs. Basson. Together, they went down to the saloon, and the older woman remarked on the heightening of the atmosphere as the distance narrowed between the ship and what was, for three-quarters of the passengers, the end of the voyage.

At the entrance to the saloon Lisa paused precipitately. Mark stood there, having a word with the obsequious chief steward.

Her pulses raced, her nails curled tightly into her palms as he saw the two women and bowed.

“Good evening, Mrs. Basson .
...
Miss Maxwell.” Conventionally polite, with the faintest of smiles for Mrs. Basson, though he seemed to look through Lisa rather than at her.

The women parted. Jeremy materialized at Lisa’s side and escorted her to their table. Lisa sat down, her whole being cold and unquiet. What had she expected: a knowledgeable glance, a special smile? No, Mark, was too circumspect for that. But he needn’t have behaved as if she weren’t there. She had done nothing to deserve that.

She forked at fish, tasted a mouthful of chicken and some ice cream. She listened to Jeremy’s raillery and tried hard to focus her attention, but all the while her ear strained above the music for the, small noises which would mean that Mark had finished h
i
s dinner and was leaving his table. In the end it was she and Jeremy who left first. Casually she looked towards the round table and saw Mark
speaking to Astra in his pleasantest manner.
Accidentally,
it seemed, he raised his head and stared, deliberately unseeing, at Lisa. Then the dark head bent again and he smiled a reply to a remark from his companion
.
The sudden hurt of it was almost more than she could bear. A premonition of unhappiness greater than any she had ever known struck her like a whiplash, and as they mounted the staircase she stumbled.

Jeremy caught at her arm. “Steady, there. What’s the rush?”

“It’s nothing. Oughtn’t you to be preparing for the big moment?”

“The play-reading?” he said easily. “I’ll manage that all right. I’ve certainly had enough practice?
Let’s have coffee in the
deck lounge.”

“
I don’t want any coffee, Jeremy. Will you please let me g
o
on deck alone?”

He was concerned. “Poor old girl, can’t I do something for you? Are the Cape rollers making you feel seedy?”

“No! I’m not seedy. Just leave me alone.”

“Very well, my sweet,” he said in, injured tones. “I’ll see you later.”

She walked past him and down to the end of the port deck, with her lips compressed and her head back. What a fool she was, to read dislike and even contempt into
Mark’s expression. Not so many hours ago they had chatted together over cups of tea, while the rest of the ship slept, unknowing. They had been friends, not captain and passenger. You don’t forget that sort of shared experience so soon.

But Mark meant her to forget it. He regretted his visit to “Hospital Row” and wished to make sure that she read
nothing into their quiet half-hour together that might be worth remembering. There was no doubt at all that hi
s
treatment of her in the saloon had been coldly premeditated.

Well, he needn’t worry! She wasn’t an unbalanced adolescent who might read impossible things into a situation which has been only unconventional. She was as capable as any other woman of disguising her sensitiveness with cool indifference. At least, she would be in a few
minutes, when she had recovered from the shock. It
had
been a shock, she reflected sob
e
rly.

Draggingly, for one habitually light in her movements, she went back up the deck towards the main lounge. Inside, they were moving the easy chairs to face the
m
any people were already seated, but Mark stood with the old peer and another man at the other side of the lounge.

A
youth said, “We’ve reserved a few front seats among the poobahs, Lisa. You’d better bag one before someone else does.”

She managed a smile, worked her way along the lounge to the first semi-circle of seats and eventually sank into a chair next to the English governess of the Indian girl.

The governess looked up from her book and gave a brief nod, then lowered her head and went on reading. Other people took their seats but two or three to the left of Lisa remained unoccupied. Soon the lights went out, dimming the main part of the lounge but leaving the dais brilliantly illumined.

The thin young pianist belonging to the band played a tender little piece which brought an ache to Lisa’s throat. Just as it finished she felt Mark take the seat on her left, and heard him say evenly, “You’ll be pleased to hear that the boy with a temperature is much better tonight. He was able to answer Barty’s questions and it seems the doc’s diagnosis was right. The youngster had undulant fever about three months ago and this bout is a kind of relapse. He’ll soon be on his feet again.”

Head averted she answered, “I’m so glad. Isn’t he travelling with parents?”

“No, that was the trouble. The doc hadn’t a thing to go on but his own experience in such cases, and they’re rare.”

“So the injection I had was unnecessary.”

“Eighty per cent of preventive injections are unnecessary,” he said calmly, “but one learns to take precautions automatically.” He paused. “I hear that you’re going to be Astra Carmichael’s secretary.”

S
omething impelled her to answer stonily, “You hear everything, don’t you?”

“I see a good deal, too,” he said, non-committally, “but don’t let it worry you. There’s only another week to Durban, with three ports in between.”

He shifted in his chair so that she saw a fraction more of his shoulder and the same proportion less of his face, and awaited the start of the evening’s performance with infuriating equanimity. A table was set on the dais. The remainder of the lights went out and concealed footlighting sprang alive at the base of the balustrade. A huge reading lamp was set on the table, its light just powerful enough to spread a soft glow in the centre of the stage. At any moment now Jeremy and Astra would materialize from the shadows at the
back
. Inside,
Lisa had gone tight and cold
with despair. The
friendliness in her relationship with Mark had faded out,
leaving a bleak void where it had been. This man at her side was unyielding as steel, and just about as human.
She couldn’t bear to sit out an hour or two of his nearness. She had an impulse to tears which was so strong that her teeth clamped and her eyes grew hot.

In swift panic she stood up, and, with a whispered, “Excuse me,” to the governess, she walked to the side of the lounge and down to the first exit.

On the promenade deck she halted to take a long quivering breath. Away in the darkness near the rail she heard a woman’s tones, then a man’s, and then the two voices shaken with soft laughter.