The House of Seven Fountains (21 page)

At that moment the lights came on again and through the wall of canvas they could hear people asking what had happened and who was responsible for such tomfoolery.

They went around to the main entrance and back to the table. Vivien could not help feeling a little annoyed at Julian’s casual “Hello there. We thought you must be hiding under the table.” She thought how different the evening would have been if Tom had been her partner.

Toward two o’clock there was an increasing number of farewells and departures, and presently the Carters said they were going. To her surprise Julian suggested that they should leave, too.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Lisa asked as they collected their wraps from the cloakroom. “Julian’s inclined to step on the gas when he’s been drinking. We can easily give you a lift home, you know.”

“I think he’d be angry if I went with you, and he seems to have calmed down now,” Vivien said.

“I hope so.” Lisa looked doubtful.

The men were waiting for them on the path to the car park. As Vivien said good-night to Tom some impulse made her put out her hand. It seemed to her that he held it for a moment longer than was necessary, and she derived a morsel of comfort from this.

As Lisa had prophesied, Julian swept out of the camp gates at a speed that made Vivien grasp the armrest for support, and once they were on the main road the speedometer needle crept up to sixty. She wondered if she should ask him to slow down, and then decided that it was better not to distract his attention from the road. Heaven help anything that strayed into their path, she thought fervently.

After a while the roar of the powerful engine and the blaze of headlights on the dark road began to have a narcotic effect on her, and she closed her eyes. When the car slowed down and stopped she blinked and said, “Are we home already?” Julian switched off the ignition and relaxed.

“I thought we’d wind up the evening with a private celebration.”

“What do you mean?” She sat up, peering out of the window. They were not at the House of Seven Fountains at all. The car was parked in a strange garage.

“You’ve never seen my place, have you? I think you’ll like it. If my boy’s following his orders, we’ll find something to eat and a bottle of champagne.”

He opened the door and prepared to get out.

“Wait! What is all this? I thought you were taking me home,” Vivien said bewilderedly.

“The night is young, my sweet. Don’t tell me you want to end it with the anticlimax of going back to an empty house.”

“Are you seriously suggesting that I should come into your bungalow and drink champagne at half-past two in the morning? Really, Julian!” She was almost amused.

“Why not? We’re both free, white and over twenty-one.”

“You’re crazy.” She reached across and switched on the ignition. “Now please take me back. I’m tired.”

“Oh, come, don’t be stuffy. Can’t you trust me?”

She sighed. “Don’t be difficult, Julian, It isn’t a question of trusting or not trusting you. You know perfectly well that I can’t come in at this hour.”

“But why? Who’s to know?” He shut the door again and shifted toward her. “Be a sport, darling.”

At that she lost patience.

“If you were anyone else I’d be really angry, Julian. Please take me back.”

For answer he pulled her against him and tried to kiss her. His grasp was rough but not brutal, and with a quick wrench Vivien freed herself, and opened the door and sprang out. “Hey, where are you going?”

“Since you won’t take me home I’ll find a
trisha
that will,” she flared furiously, and marched out of the garage and down the drive.

“Don’t be a fool. There aren’t any
trishas
around at this hour.
”
He had jumped out of the car and was hurrying after her.

“Then I’ll walk,” she called over her shoulder.

“Vivien, wait a minute! I was only joking. Of course, I’ll take you home if you feel like that about it
...
”

He began to run, overtaking her just as she reached the gates.

“For Pete’s sake, there’s no need to work up a temper just because
...
”

“Please, don’t touch me.” She drew back as he attempted to take her arm.

“Oh, come now, my dear girl
...
”
He grinned disarmingly. “Anyone would think I was trying to kidnap you.”

“Having trouble?”

They both turned, startled by the third voice that appeared to come from midair.

“What the blazes
...
?” Julian began.

A tall figure emerged from the shadow of a casuarina tree.

“Is Barclay making a nuisance of himself?” Tom Stransom asked coolly.

There was a moment of astonished silence.

Then Julian burst out, “Now, look here, Strans
o
m, I’ve had just about enough of you tonight. What do you think you’re doing, skulking around here?
”

Tom ignored him. “I’ll take you home,” he said to Vivien.

“The devil you will!” Julian exploded. “First you try to monopolize her at the dance, and now you have the confounded nerve to turn up here. I always thought you were an interfering blackguard, but by heaven, this time you’ve gone too far. Now get out!”

Tom flipped his cigarette into the ditch. He was smiling, but his eyes had the glitter of naked steel.

Without looking at her, he said, “Go and wait in the car, will you, Vivien? I won’t be long.”

She hesitated and was about to do as he said when Julian suddenly sprang forward and aimed a violent punch at his head. As easily as if he were dealing with a hysterical schoolboy, Tom parried the blow with his left forearm and caught Julian a smart clip on the jaw.

For a moment the younger man rocked on his heels and then with a smothered groan he fell forward and Tom caught him neatly under the armpits.

“It’s all right. He
isn’t
hurt. Go and wait in the car,” he said.

Horrified at this violent turn of events, Vivien did as she was told. She found the car a few yards down the road and sank into the passenger seat with a long gasp of relief. Her knees were shaking, and she felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water in her face. That Julian, whom she had always thought of as being wholly civilized, should behave like a drunken lout was a shattering discovery.

It seemed a long time before Tom came out of the gate and strode toward her. She wondered if he blamed her for the incident and if, as on two previous occasions, he would shrivel her with the biting sarcasm of which he was capable.

But as he got in beside her and switched on the interior light she saw that his expression was not the tight-lipped censure that she had dreaded.

He smiled. “I’m sorry I had to do that in front of you.”

“Is he all right?” she asked worriedly.

“Yes, just dazed. His man will look after him. How about you?” He gave her a searching look.

“I’m fine. How did you happen to be there?”

“I had an idea he might get out of hand, so I followed you.”

“I’m glad you did. I wasn’t at all happy about walking home in the dark.”

He started the car.

“You haven’t said
I
told you so,” she said as they moved off.

Tom gave her a brief, quizzical look. “Last time I interfered in your affairs you told me to mind my own business. I’m not stretching my luck,” he said dryly.

They did not speak for the rest of the drive, but it was a companionable silence. When they reached the house Tom parked the car and looked at his watch.

“It’s almost three o’clock. May I come in for a moment or two?”

Vivien nodded.

The hall light was on, and Chen had left a flask of coffee and a muslin-covered tray of sandwiches on the trolley. He had also put out the whiskey decanter and soda siphon.

“Shall we go into the courtyard?” she suggested, leading the way while Tom steered the cart.

“Do you think it would wake everyone up if I turned on the fountains?” she asked softly.

“I wouldn’t think so.”

She tossed her handbag and stole onto the swing couch and went over to the switch.

There was a moment of hushed stillness, a faint rustling sound and then
...
like molten diamonds ... the seven jets soared into the moonlight.

“Everyone should have a fountain in their garden,” she said as they sat down and Tom poured the coffee. “I think however worried or upset anyone was, if they watched a fountain they’d find all their difficulties ebbing away;” She laughed. “And, of course, it’s much cheaper than going to a psychiatrist.”

Tom grinned. “You’re happy in this house, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. I suppose it’s foolish to let myself become too happy here. It’s such a temptation not to think about the future, but I shall have to before long. I can’t be an idle butterfly forever.”

She rested her head on the cushions and watched the moonlight glancing through the branches of the frangipani tree. “In a way, living here has made me understand why people shut themselves away from the world.”

“You mean in monasteries and convents?”

She nodded.

“I
don’t think that one can evade the world like that,
”
he said thoughtfully. “For a t
i
me it might seem very serene and restful, but after a while you’d begin to miss the challenges and satisfactions of a normal existence. Besides, you’d be cutting yourself off from the primary function of a woman’s life
...
bearing children.”

“That sounds suspiciously like the old saw about a woman’s place being in the home,” Vivien murmured d
r
yly.

“I believe that it is.”

“But supposing a woman has a career that means a great deal to her, say, teaching or medicine? Do you think it’s right that she should waste training and talent by giving it up in favor of domesticity?”

“How many women do have careers? Most of them earn their living now, but I imagine the majority of them—the typists and shopgirls—are glad to give up their jobs to be wives and mothers.”

“You’re dodging the point. What about the ones who have real careers?”

“I suppose there’s no harm in their carrying on with their work providing it doesn’t distract them from their personal responsibilities.”

“You mean they should always fit in with their husband’s plans even if it interferes with their own projects?”

He set down his coffee cup and lighted a cigarette.

“Yes. In a divergence of that sort the woman should give way. In any man-woman relationship the man should be the dominant partner. It’s a principle that goes right back to primitive times when men were hunters and warriors. If you deny that principle you set up all kinds of damaging conflicts.”

“Surely a compromise is possible now that we aren’t primitive any longer?” she suggested.

“There shouldn’t be any need for a compromise,” he said flatly.
“
In a really good relationship the woman doesn’t contest her husband’s authority on major issues. She’s content to let him steer the course.”

He looked sideways at her.

“I suppose you think that’s a Victorian outlook?”

She shook her head.

“
No. In fact, I agree with you.”

There was a pause and after a minute she got up and walked to the edge of the pool. A fallen leaf rocked gently to and fro on the quiet surface of the water, and leaning forward, Vivien saw her face reflected in the moonlight depths. A gust of air blew a
light veil of moisture over her head, and she moved around the stone rim and held out her hands, letting the fountain sprinkle a cascade of silvered drops on her warm skin.

“The spirit of the fountain,” Tom said from behind her. She swung around, laughing up at him, her wet palms pressed against her cheeks.

Then her laugh died away, and she drew a quick uncertain breath. For a long moment they stared at each other. Very slowly Tom reached out and took her wrists and drew her toward him.

“
Mem
!
Mem
!”

The voice impinged on her reluctant consciousness like a distant noise penetrating the mists of sleep.

It was not until Tom bit back a savage expletive and dropped her wrists that she recognized the urgent imperative sound of the call. At the same instant Chen hurried through the archway that led to the servants’ quarters. He was buttoning his jacket as he came and his usually sleek black hair was standing on end. But even in his haste he remembered to bow as he reached them.

“I apologize for disturbing the
mem
at this hour
...”

“What’s the matter?” Tom said briskly, cutting short the preamble.