Stars Over Sarawak (15 page)

 'You used me,' she had said in a joking manner. And his reply had been,

 'A woman does come in useful sometimes.'

 With a small sigh which undeniably held regret for things past and gone, Roanna turned back the blanket with the intention of getting into bed. But her eyes dilated at what she saw, and once again she was frozen into immobility. For there, lying on the sheet, was a black hairy spider the size of a saucer. The colour drained from her face as the hideously repelling creature began slowly to crawl over the sheet — towards the spot where she stood. A gurgling sound escaped her; it broke the spell, and turning, she fled from the tent.

 Carl was still where she had left him; he did not at first see her and she stopped, a pale figure in the tropical moonlight, her hair and nightgown flowing, playthings of the breeze. Carl's hair too was tousled; she saw him in profile, his stern austere features etched against the bare limestone rock face behind him. The rock was a residual, and the only one of its kind in the vicinity; in all other directions the jungle was starkly evident — the thick intertwined vegetation where clung parasitic and epiphytic plants, reaching for the light. The river, argent in the moonlight, was dotted with small islands of aquatic growth, mainly the water-hyacinths, while the banks supported swampy plants, attractively green in the daylight, but treacherous to walk upon, as she had learned by experience.

 Above, in a purple sky of the kind seen only near the Equator, the moon appeared as an enormous sphere of silver, spreading a brittle glow over the whole drowsy landscape. Nocturnal insects filled the air with strange and primitive sounds; bats glided like departed spirits seeking for a refuge, and a lone flying lizard descended from a higher branch to a lower one, gliding on the delicate membranes extending between its front and back legs.

 At last Roanna moved; her flowing nightgown caught Carl's eye and he turned his head. Silence remained as they looked at one another. How unreal he seemed! How much a part of the jungle itself, an integral part of the lonely primordial scene which was itself a lost world of mystery that had endured in isolation from the very beginnings of time. She spoke at last, and took a step towards him, aware of her attire and of what could be seen through it, yet strangely undisturbed by her knowledge. For it was as if she were also a part of this primeval setting and, therefore, totally unaffected by the rules and codes of modern civilization,

 'Roanna ...' Carl spoke as she drew near to him. 'Why have you come to me?'

 Only then did she see what could be deduced — and yet she remained unembarrassed. And her voice was. calm and steady as she said, gesturing over her shoulder,

 'A spider, Carl — it's in my bed, and it's horrid!'

 The tautness that had entered into him on seeing her, standing in the silver-purple glow of night, her attire blown in the wind, suddenly dispersed and he relaxed.

 'A black hairy one — like a large ball of fluff?'

 She nodded her head, pushing a hand through her hair to remove it from her cheek.

 'But it has legs,' she said, and his lips twitched, as well they might.

 'Spiders usually do have legs — rather more than most creatures, in fact.'

 She tried to produce a laugh, but only a fluttering smile appeared. Carl made no immediate move to dispatch the offensive creature that was responsible for her presence here, but just stood looking down into her lovely face, noting the quivering mouth with its softly parted lips, the tendrils of hair fluttering against her delicately-fashioned cheeks. And he noticed that the grey-blue eyes were covered with a smoky film ... and mistook the reason for it.

 Watching his expression change, Roanna realized that the film over her eyes — caused in reality by worry and uncertainty about her future with Andrew — had a very different meaning for Carl.

 He actually believed she wanted to make love!

 Swiftly she lowered her head, scared and half ashamed by the knowledge that Carl was not really very far out in his deductions. That he held her in a power that was as emotion-stirring as it was frightening she was now forced to admit, but in her present state of mind this power savoured of something unhealthy like the power her husband had held over her, although in that instance there had never been any question of her reciprocation; on the contrary, she had hated to have him anywhere near to her. With Carl, however, she found a sort of pleasure-pain in his nearness, while as for reciprocation — her response to his kiss answered that.

 'The spider,' she reminded him, feeling more than a little foolish. 'Aren't you going to kill it?'

 'I expect it's gone by now.' Carl's hand moved; he swept back the hair from her face while his eyes ran appreciatively over her body. The other hand came from his side; her face was cupped possessively, and lifted to his. The touch of his lips was sheer heaven, and excitement and longing welled up within her, sweeping her along on the tide of his own passion as his mouth became more urgently demanding as the silent moments passed. His hand came round to caress her back; it moved up to her neck, slid away the narrow strap supporting the bodice and his lips found the lovely curve between shoulder and neck. Roanna quivered like a frightened fawn, but made no attempt to free herself. Madness! Jungle madness so overpowering that honour and morals and even self-esteem faded into insignificance.

 Live for the moment, her heart and body cried. Why not? She would be no different from the rest these days. 'Roanna ...' Hoarse the whisper as the embers of his passion burst into flame. 'Why did you come? Why? Whisper it to me; don't be shy, little one—' But his desire cut his own words and Roanna found herself swept into a vortex of ardour that was so very reminiscent of Rolfe that she was instantly filled with a fear so great that it almost amounted to sheer undiluted terror. And with it came sanity and the impact of what she had been about to do hit her with full force, providing her with a physical strength of which she would never have believed herself capable. Tearing her body from his embrace, she ran from him and stood with her back to the table on which still stood the wine bottle and the two glasses from which they had been drinking.

 'Leave me alone!' she cried. 'Don't you dare touch me again!'

 He frowned in puzzlement before an ugly light entered his expression.

 'What's the game?' he demanded. 'You came out here for one thing only—'

 'I didn't! I came because of the spider!'

 'Rubbish!'

 'I did — oh, I did! Go in and look, if you don't believe me.' She stopped, for her voice caught in her throat. She was drained by the scene, by the force of her own desire and near-surrender to that lithe and tempting body that had come so intimately close that it seemed that already she was part of him. Never had there been so intimate a scene between her and Andrew. No, Andrew knew how to practise self-control, and in any case, his innate gentleness would not allow of so rough and possessive an embrace.

 Carl came to her in three great strides and her shoulders were caught — and bruised.

 'Don't deny that you wanted me to make love to you,' he said in smouldering tones. 'Be honest! Why do women always deny their weaknesses — if that's what normal desire is supposed to be? Admit that you were as near as you'll ever be to surrendering to a man!' He shook her and she cried out, and tears fell to her cheeks.

 'Let me go,' she pleaded in a fading tone. 'Please ...'

 'I said admit it!'

 Terror-stricken now by his expression, she said swiftly,

 'Yes — yes, I admit it.'

 'Then what happened?'

 'I th-thought of Rolfe and—'

 'Rolfe?' with acute distaste and a deepening of his frown that gave him a glowering look. 'That scoundrel ! Why should you think of him?'

  'Because you reminded me of him,' she told Carl frankly, and he let go of her shoulders, falling back, amazement wiping every other expression from his harsh brown face.

 'In what way, for God's sake!'

 Roanna hesitated, unsure of herself, and even more unsure that her comparison was correct, for Carl was obviously appalled by her words. But she had to be honest, and say what was in her mind.

 'The way you were, Carl. You reminded me of him because you were so rough and — and—' She swallowed convulsively before adding, getting out the words swiftly, 'And uncontrolled in the way you held me, and kissed me.'

 His head had been bent slightly, but now he lifted it, and squared his shoulders. The harsh features became taut, his eyes impassive.

 'This spider,' he said crisply, 'where is it?'

 'On the bed—' He was striding away towards her tent. Roanna followed slowly, lifting the front of her nightgown to wipe away the tears as they continued to fall.

CHAPTER TEN

THE lovely-voiced yellow-crowned bulbul awakened her and she opened her eyes to the sunlight streaming through the curtains.

 She sat up, glancing at the clock. A quarter past eight! But then it had been long past midnight before she and Andrew said good night outside her bedroom door.

 'Until tomorrow, dear,' he had said gently. 'I'm so glad the investigations are over and done with for, now we can enjoy our first holiday together.' He had kissed her lips and then her cheek; his eyes were cold and vividly blue, his face a trifle pale, and there had been an odd sort of frown on his forehead to which Roanna had automatically lifted a hand, smoothing the lines with her fingers.

 'Good night, dear Andrew,' she had whispered, inwardly contrite and ashamed because quite suddenly the face before her did not belong to Andrew at all...

 They were going to the races today, but first they planned to visit one or two of the Chinese temples which were to be found in various parts of Kuching. Andrew also wanted to visit the museum and they might manage to fit that in as well, thought Roanna as, getting up, she showered rather quickly; and by a quarter to nine she was greeting her fiancé as he waited for her by the door of the dining-room.

 'Did you sleep well?' she inquired politely, and he nodded his head with equal politeness.

 'This is a very comfortable hotel,' he said. 'I'd rather thought conditions here might be more primitive than this.'

 'I did describe it all in my letters,' she reminded him.

 'Yes, dear, so you did.' He took her arm and they went into the room where a waiter showed them to the table they had occupied for their meals since Andrew's arrival early yesterday morning.

 'You seem preoccupied, Andrew.' Roanna looked anxiously at him across the breakfast table. 'Is anything wrong?'

 'Wrong?' He seemed to be frowning inwardly. 'No, dear, of course not.'

 She looked at him with a puzzled expression. Some change had taken place in him, she was sure, but what that change was — or meant — she was unable to define.

 'I hope you aren't upset because I went into the jungle with Carl Denver?' Her glance was one of interest; she was trying to visualize Carl's reaction should his future wife have gone off and stayed a month in the jungle alone with a man. For, in effect they had been alone, the presence of the two Natives being important where the question of relationships between Carl and herself were involved.

 'You know I'm not, Roanna. I trust you, dear.'

 She said, crumbling her bread absently,

 'Most men would be jealous — to say the least — if their fiancée went off like that.'

 Smiling as he lifted his coffee cup to his lips, Andrew said,

 'I'm never jealous, you should know that by now. Why, if there's jealousy there's no trust, is there?'

 'No, I suppose not.' Roanna did not think Carl would look at it quite like that; in fact, there were few men who would remain so unperturbed as Andrew at the idea of the girl they loved having spent a month with a man.

 'I haven't asked you much about it, Roanna. Of course, we haven't had much time, not really.' He smiled at her and his glance was affectionate. 'I was too busy telling you about myself, wasn't I? — my job and this chance of promotion. You listened so patiently dear, but today you shall do all the talking and I'll be the one to listen.'

 Roanna looked at him, returning his smile. His hair had grown longer, but it was shining and nicely brushed. Mechanically she allowed her thoughts to wander to Carl — and she knew instinctively that he would look with disdain on this long hair. Not that his own was short; on the contrary, it was attractively long at the back, but not nearly so long as Andrew's. And Roanna suspected it was long only because Carl could not be bothered going regularly to have it cut. It was nice hair, though, and Carl did wash it often because it always seemed to be shining with cleanness.

 Why should she always be bringing Carl into her thoughts? she asked herself impatiently. The fact that she cared so deeply was no excuse, since she was quite determined to forget him. But what of her feelings for Andrew? Was it fair to offer only second-best — to give affection while he himself gave love? Perhaps she would talk to him about her doubts when they got back home to England. Yes, she must, she suddenly decided. It would only be fair to do so. Andrew could then decide what their future was to be.

 With the realization that she could look so dispassionately at the problem Roanna began to wonder whether she had ever really had any deep feeling at all for her fiancé.

 Andrew cut into her troubled musings by mentioning the time.

 'If we're to do all we've planned we'd better be getting a move on.'

 An hour later they were entering the Temple of Hong San to which they had been taken by taxi. The temple guardian offered to give a brief explanation and this offer was graciously accepted by Andrew.

 'The temple was built in honour of the God Kuek Seng Ong,' the man said, and this meant the Holy Prince Kuek who, according to legend, became a god about a thousand years ago, and for those who worshipped him there were always rewards forthcoming. On the prince's birthday a stage show was held in his honour. 'This is on the twenty-second day of the second moon,' the man went on to say. 'Another show is put on on the twenty-second day of the eighth moon when the Emperor Hsien Feng conferred upon the illustrious Prince Kuek the title of Poh Ann Kong Teck Choon Ong.'

 Roanna blinked and said,

 'What does that mean?'

 'Prince of Safety and Enrichment.'

 Andrew shook his head.

 'Sounds crazy to me,' he whispered while the man's back was turned.

 'It isn't crazy to them. They worship these gods.'

 The next temple they visited was that of Tien Hou, a girl born during the Sung dynasty and who later became the Goddess of Seamen. She herself had crossed the ocean on a mattress, and she was able to perform miracles. Chinese fishermen would come to the temple to pray for a safe return for themselves and their friends, and on Tien Hou's birthday, which was on the twenty-third day of the third moon, the seamen and their entire families would come to the temple to pay their respects to the young goddess.

 'Isn't it interesting?' Roanna spoke as they were on their way to even yet a third temple. 'Religions are interesting to study, don't you think?1

 'Hmm?'

 She turned to him and a small frown creased her brow.

 'You're not listening, Andrew.'

 'What—? Oh, I'm sorry, dear. Er — what were you telling me?'

 Why was he so preoccupied? she wondered. This was by no means the first time he had not heard what she was saying to him.

 'It doesn't matter.' A small pause and then, 'Perhaps you'd rather not bother about any other temples?'

 'I think I'd prefer the museum, but it's up to you, dear?'

 The museum it was, simply because Roanna did not care where they went. Her whole mind and being were with Carl; she saw only his dark face, heard only his voice. Would it always be like this — his intruding into her mind, preventing the healing of the pain which dragged at her heart? But no! She would be strong, disciplining herself so that his vision was thrust out every time it appeared.

 'I enjoyed that,' Andrew said when at last they left the museum; 'And now I suppose it's time we returned to the hotel for lunch.'

Carl was at the races; Roanna saw him coming towards her and Andrew soon after they had arrived. She gasped at his appearance, forgetting that she had seen him in this immaculate state before. But for that month in the jungle she had seen him dressed mainly in shorts and a cotton shirt with rolled-up sleeves — or even without anything at the top at all. His work being scarcely of the clean kind he was invariably dusty and hot on their return from their exploratory trips away from camp — as of course she herself was — and Roanna had become used to seeing him in this state.

 Now, however, he was in a lightweight tropical suit of grey linen, with a white shirt starkly contrasting with the colour of his throat and face. Like some lordly aristocrat he came striding over to where they were standing, that cynical twist to his mouth and that arrogant tilt to his head.

 'Good afternoon, Roanna,' he greeted her smoothly. And his eyes flickered over her companion, taking in every detail of his appearance. Roanna made the introduction and the two men shook hands. They all chatted casually for a moment or two and then Andrew said,

 'I believe we owe you a great deal, Mr. Denver. Roanna has told me all that you've done to help her, and she's told me everything about your trip into the jungle.'

 'Everything?' he repeated, his mocking eyes darting slantways to Roanna. 'You're a lucky man, Mr. Hulse; not many women tell their menfolk everything.'

 Naturally Roanna went red, and sent Carl an almost murderous glance — a glance he had never before had from her, and although he appeared a trifle surprised by it his chief emotion appeared to be one of mocking amusement. Andrew, who had given a slight start at Carl's words, was now looking most uneasy as he glanced from Carl to Roanna, who dropped her eyes instantly, hiding her expression.

 'I don't think I understand, Mr. Denver?' said Andrew when he had made some slight recovery. 'There seems to be a subtle implication in what you said?'

 'Forget it, Mr. Hulse,' returned Carl, meeting Roanna's eyes as she lifted her face to look at him. 'I was merely joking.' But his voice was crisp and taut and a frown suddenly appeared between Andrew's eyes.

 'What exactly did he mean?' Andrew wanted to know later when they were once again on their own. 'Roanna, what did he mean?'

 She turned to him and said,

 'It was lonely there, Andrew, in the deep jungle — and just the two of us except for the Natives whom Carl employed to help with such things as putting up the tents, cooking,, and cutting a way through the jungle when it was necessary to do so—'

 'You've told me all this over lunch,' he cut in to remind her. 'I've asked you what that fellow meant?'

 She looked at him for a long moment of silence; he was calm but faintly troubled, and again her thoughts flitted to Carl. Wrathful and accusing he would have been under similar circumstances — and those would have been mild adjectives to use!

 'Carl was referring to one particular night,' she began at length. 'I had to enlist his help because a spider had got into my tent—'

  'A spider? You brought him in just because of a spider?'

 'It was a very big spider, as big as a saucer. And those particular spiders are deadly.'

 'I see. And what happened then?'

 'I came out to him and — and—' She stopped awkwardly, wondering why she should have chosen to be so honest with Andrew. Far better both for him and herself had she made light of Carl's remark and managed to deflect Andrew's curiosity, which would not have been very difficult — not like it would have been with Carl, for instance. No, Carl would have dragged the truth from her if necessary. 'He kissed me, Andrew,' she said at last.

 'And you let him?' Andrew's voice and eyes were pained, but that was all.

 'Perhaps you can't understand,' she said quietly. 'The lonely jungle did something to us — you see, there was a moon, and a breeze ...' She let her voice trail away, because she knew she could never make him understand that a moon and a breeze could have anything to do with it at all. Andrew did not feel
deeply
enough, not about anything at all.

 'I think I see what you mean, dear,' he said at length soothingly. 'But you obviously resisted temptation, and that's all that matters.'

 She had to say,

 'But you don't know that I did, Andrew.'

 'You'd not have been so open,' he returned with confidence. 'I know you resisted temptation, Roanna.'

 How little he knew! How little he realized just how close she had been to unfaithfulness. Nor did he realize that it was not strength that had saved her, but fear fear that Carl would subject her to the kind of disrespect which she had received from her husband.

The following week they decided to spend some time on the beach; Andrew loved swimming and so did Roanna, although she had not done any at all since coming to Sarawak.

 'I didn't like to go on my own,' she told Andrew when he expressed surprise at what she said. 'It'll be different now that you're here.'

 But the first day something happened that turned Roanna's stomach and put her off bathing for a couple of days. She and Andrew were strolling along the beach, looking for a pleasant place to settle, when they suddenly came upon a snake, moving sinuously along the shore ... without a head.

 'Lord,' exclaimed Andrew, 'what a horrible sight! How can it move without a head?'

 Revolted, Roanna could only stare unbelievingly at the hideous creature, wondering, like Andrew, how it could get along like this without its head. And then she saw the reason; its entire body had been eaten away by white ants; the creatures still occupied the skin and it was they which, packed tightly and numbering thousands, were responsible for the snake's progress along the beach.