The Primrose Bride (18 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Blair

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Clive said nothing. Andrew shrugged.

Thought I

d prepare you so that you

ll have your answer ready when you

re asked about it.

A pause, then:

These tarts are delicious. Who made them?


My wife,

said Mr. Rawling, awakening suddenly.


You should have brought down some of the large fruit cake, Karen,

Andrew said.

I

ll bet even Mrs. Rawling would have complimented you on it.

Karen hugged her knees more tightly, and said casually,

It

s not that good. I

m no paragon. Was it as hot in the hills as it is here?


Not quite, but there was a thick haze over most of the road. We need a wind.

He shed the shirt.

Come on, let

s take a dip.


I won

t bother. I

m not wearing a swim suit.

Fleetingly he met her glance. Probably for the benefit of their companions he said, with a wink,

You

re giving in to the climate, my sweet. Before you

ve been here a month I

ll have you swimming before breakfast every day. Help yourself to a cigarette from the pack in my shirt pocket. I won

t be long.

Karen lay back again. She felt Rita lean over and search the shirt for cigarettes, heard her say softly,

If you agree to go to Malu, Clive, don

t expect me to be here when you come back. No offence, darling, but I

m not going with you, and I

m not going to grass-widow it here till you return. If I don

t start getting something out of life pretty soon I

ll go lunatic.

It seemed that Clive still felt too wretched to speak, for a silence followed. Others went down for a final swim, Rita said a brief goodbye and cleared off, and Clive no doubt followed her. When Karen opened her eyes she was alone and Andrew was coming up the beach, glistening from his swim. She stood up, automatically handing him a towel.

Been with the gang all day?

he asked.

She shook her head.

Molly came in for tea this morning. I had lunch alone and rested till about three.


Been lonely at all
?


No. Are we still going to the Prichards

cottage tomorrow?


That

s how I left it. Not apprehensive about it, are you?


I

m looking forward to it.

He flung the rolled towel round his neck, took her wrist and said,

Sit down again—they

ve all gone and it

s even a bit cooler. Did you have a cigarette?


I didn

t want one.

She moved slightly away from him, leaned back on her hands.

If the packet

s sandy it

s because Rita handled it.


Rita?

He shook his head and selected a cigarette.

She becomes more of a pain in the neck every day. Clive

s a darned good forestry man and we could use him all over the islands, but he

s not certain of his wife, so he won

t move. Rita must have known before she married him that his way of life would be as it is.


And he must have known the sort of woman he was taking on,

Karen pointed out.

It cuts both ways. They

re not happy together, but I think they

d be less happy apart.

He smiled.

A psychological study, and all for nothing. Rita

s a hard case and
sh
e needs firmer handling than Clive can manage. They

ll have to work it out themselves.

He blew smoke, and without changing the conversational tone asked

What worries you particularly about tomorrow?


I

m afraid I don

t feel up to Lady Prichard.


She

s not so frightening, and we

ll be there only a few hours—for lunch and tea. They

ve got some missionary people coming for dinner at the
Residency
tomorrow
night,
so we shall be home soon after six. He paused, looked out towards the reef as he went on,

Marcia
doesn’t
really like other women, but she told me today that she
felt
you and she would get along well.
For
your information it

s a great privilege for a couple to be invited out to Hill Lodge Bingham and I have been there, but so far no wives
.”

She watched sand squelching through the fingers upon which she leaned.

What the Governor and his wife think of you is terribly important to you, isn

t it.


Not to me personally. I like the Old Man for himself, of course

most of us do—but what he and Marcia think of me is important only to my future with the service.

Quietly he reiterated,

Our
future.

She found no answer to that.

I think I will have a cigarette,

she said.

She hadn

t thought of him lighting it between his own lips and placing it between hers. Accepting it was like a sort of surrender, a forced surrender whose bitter sweetness helped her a little because she so badly wanted to yield to him. She smoked without speaking, and when the cigarette was half consumed she let him take it and press it into the sand. He shouldered into his shirt, gave her a hand and pulled her to her feet. She was sure that as they plodded through the white sand he would place an arm across her shoulder; but he didn

t. Because there was no audience? Karen ignored the ache in her heart
as
she ignored the soreness of her foot.

In the living room he said,

I

ll take a shower and get dressed. It

s the McLennans

tonight, isn

t it?

She nodded.

Do I dress up?


No—just a pretty frock.

His smile at her was almost gentle.

You always look lovely—even when you

re in crumpled pyjamas and your hair is mussed as it was this morning. I didn

t want to leave you—do you know that?

And on a taunting note,

You

re scared to stop fighting and trust me. Heaven knows what you expect to happen—but don

t you think it might be ... interesting, to say the least?

She smiled faintly.

I

m sure you

d be most surprised if I replied to that.


Gratified, anyway,

he said
tersely
.

No go? All right. Let

s decide to have a good day tomorrow—not because of the Prichards or promotion or anything else, but simply because of you and me.

Grimly mocking, he added,

My problem child!

She could have given in then; he looked so much as he had looked in England. There was the provocative glint in the grey eyes, the tolerant humor in his mouth, the slight shrug of a sardonic man softened up, and liking it.
But
...
he had married her without love, and for that she could never forgive him.

She said evenly,

You

d better go. I

ll be needing the bath as soon as
you

re through.

He did not hurry. Had he moved more quickly his glance might not have caught the square of official white paper which lay beneath a chair, and Karen would have found it first. But he saw it, bent and picked it up, read the typewritten words.


That

s odd,

he said, as if to himself.

This must have arrived at the office from Filfua this morning.

He looked at her.

How did it get here?

She went cold.

I ... I don

t know. I

ve never seen it before.


It

s about a new copra barge
...

He broke off, demanded sharply,

Has Tony been here?

She hesitated, and was sunk.

He was here just before lunch for a few minutes. He ... he brought some papers
for you to
...


He brought nothing for me. This could have waited. He flicked at the sheet he was holding.

He came down here to see you and carried
a
n armful of official stuff as a cover, in case he should mee
t
someone on the way or find a friend here. He came purposely while I was out, to see you!

She lifted her chin.

Why shouldn

t he call? Isn

t he your friend? If he has to pretend he

s coming on business it

s because you

re too unpredictable for him to be honest.


He
came
because he knew I was well out of the way!


What of it?

she threw at him.

He knows I need a friend more than you do!

The instant the words were out she knew their folly. He went taut and glittering, spoke with deadly quietness.

You didn

t even hint that he

d been here; you weren

t going to tell me. You

re falling for Tony, aren

t you?


No, I

m not.


Yes, you are. Not for the man he is, but for what he seems to be as far as you

re concerned. He

s soft and sympathetic. He thinks you

re too sweet and vulnerable
to face life with me. He wouldn

t say as much—Tony

s not such a fool—but that

s what he implies, isn

t it?


Tony

s always been loyal to you—always.

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