The Primrose Bride (25 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Blair

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Karen

s throat was full. She saw Andrew approaching and said quickly,

I

ll come again, doctor. I

d like to see more.

Andrew, tall, commanding and enigmatic, took the child from her arms and lowered her to the ground.

Only six cases in there,

he commented to the doctor.

There must have been eighteen when I last came here. We

re catching them in time.


I am happy to say that is so. I know you must leave us now, but please come again soon. It is so long since we had one of our little meetings to decide certain things, and I grow too old for some decisions, tuan.


We

ll come,

Andrew promised.

Some time within the next month or two you

ll be receiving a case of junior gymnasium apparatus I ordered in England. When it arrives I

ll come over and get it fixed up. So long, Pappa Nimal.

Karen gave the old man her hand, felt strength in his hot dry fingers.

Goodbye, Dr. Nimal. I

m so glad to have met you, and seen this place.

She raised a hand to the children, turned and walked at Andrew

s side. When she looked back they were halfway dong the hill, and there was nothing to see but the path flanked by bananas and mango trees.

Andrew took her elbow, nodded towards a narrow path which ran through the jungle to the left.

There

s a stream just through there. Just a look at it will cool you.

He plunged ahead, gave her a hand over protruding roots, and drew her on till they came to a green tunnel with a narrow stream flowing through it. The ground was wet the forest about them dripped ceaselessly, but it must have been the coolest place in Nemaka. The darkness, with only a dappling of green light here and there, was an uncanny but welcome relief from the hot glare.

He found a dead log, spread his handkerchief to save her skirt from stain, and himself took the risk of sitting at her side. He leaned forward, looking at the dark flowing
water.

There was no guiding expression in his voice as he asked,

What did you think of the place up there?


It was marvellous. Your idea, I gathered.


I like to
think
so. The Governor was very agreeable, and we wouldn

t have got anywhere without someone like Dr. Nimal.


You

ve never mentioned it—not at all.


I

ve been waiting for the opportunity. So far, the place has been planned and run only by men, but I believe it

s reached a stage where it needs something more. After all half the kids are girls, and three-quarters of the whole number are young enough to need parents You

re not terribly mature yourself,

with a smile which robbed the remark of its sting,

but you
probably
have t
he
right instincts where children
are
concerned.
We

ll
be glad to use any ideas you may have.

Karen was silent. She remembered the faint mockery with which he had witnessed her first sight of the huge playground under the trees, the slight roughness with which he had sharply taken the island child from her arms
.
Even now his expression was unreadable. A glance showed him still regarding the water with a tolerant look about his
mouth.

“If I do have any
ideas I

ll let you know,

she
said.

As I

m so new here they

re not likely to be worth much.


They

ll be yours,

he stated,

and every day that passes makes you less new to the islands. Ever thought of that
?”


No but I suppose it

s true. Do you remember
...

She stopped suddenly, and he turned his head towards her.

Do I remember what?


It

s nothing.

It

s more than nothing if it was something we shared
.”
But he let it pass. His left hand came up and lifted her hat. She moved back a fraction and momentarily his eyes glinted. He dropped the hat on her lap, and with a deliberate motion he took the squashed flower from behind her ear and slipped his fingers through the hair which had been flattened. Just that, and no more. He turned back to contemplation of the river.

In tones which held the trace of a smile he said,

I watched your face as you suddenly saw those children. You looked about ten yourself. I know you feel nearer
a
hundred, but that

s how you looked.


I don

t feel old,

she said.

I feel appallingly juvenile.

He gave an offhanded laugh.

Time will take care of that. Feel rested?

She stood up at once.

Yes. We ought to go.

But just then there was a sudden rustling among
the
trees and a little grey monkey slithered down a trunk and stood still, staring at them. A white patch above each eye made him look comically surprised. Andrew made a tiny,
cl
ucking sound, but the monkey continued to gaze at them, as though hypnotized.

With a lightning movement Andrew lunged forward and caught the little animal by its back. It struggled for only a moment, then hung limp.


He

s shamming dead,

Andrew commented.
“Come
on, old chap, greet the missus.


Poor little thing,

she murmured, gingerly touching
a
hind paw.

You

re holding his skin too tightly at the neck.


If I slackened he

d bite. Like to take him home and tame him? It wouldn

t take long.


I don

t think any animal is really happy where it doesn

t belong.


Nor any human, either,

he said calmly.

But you

d be amazed how certain animals will take to a household. A few years ago I had a small Pacific bear that sat in the doorway at exactly a quarter past five every afternoon, waiting for me, and he always watched me shaving, through the bathroom window. He cooked his goose when I had guests one evening.
Somehow
he got into the spare bedroom, and when my friends were ready to depart we found the bear in a welter of shredded silk wraps and cosmetics. It cost me twenty pounds and at least one beautiful friendship.

She smiled.

It was an original ending, anyway—more interesting than growing tired of the wench. Do let this poor beast go.

He gave her a speculative look which had nothing whatever to do with the monkey, then turned and placed the quivering little thing on a branch. The monkey had been in captivity for no more than three minutes, but he could hardly believe he was free. He sat absolutely still for a long moment, then sprang to a higher branch and leaned down. His language, judging by the consonants and its vituperative strength, must have been scorching. Karen threw back her head and laughed.

Andrew laughed a little too. He took her arm and they began walking.

That

s the first time you

ve laughed spontaneously since we got here,

he said.

Keep it up, there

s a good girl. I need reminding that I haven

t killed that gaiety of yours. I couldn

t live with myself if I had.

She was too self-conscious to say anything, and he added probingly,

You
are
feeling happier, aren

t you?

A little indistinctly she answered,

I don

t know. I try not to think very much.


About me?


About anything.


That

s the defence mechanism at work, but no mechanism keeps going for ever.

She said haltingly,

I know you

re as disappointed in me as I am
...

But he broke in, with an oddly gentle brusqueness,

Don

t get shaky now, for heaven

s sake; that

s the very last thing I want. But there

s one thing you must get into your head. You may be disappointed—I

m not. What I feel is something far more positive than disappointment and some
time
it will call for positive action. So long as neither of us deliberately upsets the other we

ll get through. Just keep reminding yourself of one thing: in England you loved me enough to marry me, and it goes without saying that I
loved you enough to marry you. But success in marriage is rather more than being in love with someone you

re convinced is the right partner. It

s also a matter of being the right partner yourself. Marriage, of itself, can

t fail. It

s the people who won

t give themselves to it in every way who fail.

They were emerging on to the road, near the car, and she could do as she so often did these days, avoid replying. Hollowly she thought what a blessed relief it would be to give in, to accept the fact of being married to provide him with an adaptable wife, and force herself to be satisfied with rather less than her body and spirit craved. As the Senior Executive Officer

s wife she was someone, and when, inevitably, he was promoted to a position of sole command, she would be correspondingly important. Could those things make up in some measure for the barrenness of their personal life together?

Andrew was letting in the clutch and saying mockingly,

Too bad I should make you think just when you

re trying so hard not to. But you can stop worrying, little one. You may not believe it, but I

m on your side!

He swung the car and tacked on.

Don

t let Cath Rawling coax you to do anything energetic. There

s a long day to get through yet.

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

Actually, K
aren quite enjoyed the rest of that afternoon, and by six-thirty, when she was able to wallow in a warm, foamy bath, she was excited and expectant. In her room, she took her time over getti
n
g into the off-white frock which left her shoulders bare, and making up her face. Andrew had obligingly yielded his bedroom for the guests

wraps, but he had told her, e
x
asperatedly, that it would have to be fumigated before he

d spend another night in there; it already reeked of camellias. For what might be left of tonight, after the party, he would sleep on the veranda.

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