Wealth of the Islands (21 page)

Helen
’
s eyes met Gregory
’
s.
“
That doesn
’
t give us very long, does it?
”
she said anxiously.

“
If you can manage today,
I’ll
go down with you tomorrow morning and we
’
ll bring up the gold,
”
Gregory said.

“
But you can
’
t!
”
she protested.

“
I can try!
”
he retorted.

She leaned back, smiling at him.
“
And who said that optimism was no substitute for character?
”
she teased him gently.

His laughter mingled with hers.
“
You mind your business and I
’
ll mind mine,
”
he offered.
“
How big a hole have you knocked into the side of the frigate?
”

More than big enough for us to get in and out,
”
she told him. She shivered suddenly, despite the hot sun.
“
I
t looks black inside and rather horrid. I
’
m not much looking forward to it.
”

“
Do you think you can get everything rigged up for us today?
”
he asked her.
“
We
’
ll have to make a quick trip in the morning if we
’
re going to get away with it.
”

I
“
I think so,
”
she agreed.
“
I
’
ll have to rig up some kind of lighting. Perhaps we could leave the lines rigged up to a marker buoy and hope that nothing interferes with them overnight.
”

He nodded.
“
I
’
ll help all I can from up here,
”
he said briskly.
“
You
’
d better get ready for the next dive.
”

It took a long time to fix up all the necessary wires and to make sure that the powerful bulbs were working. When she switched them on, several curious fish came to see what she was doing. They showed no fear at swimming in and out of the gaping hole she had made in the side of the frigate. She was tempted to put her head through the gap and see what
she
could see with the help of the lights, but she was very conscious of how little compressed air they had left. There was not enough for her to waste any of it, and she still had such a great deal to do. Gregory had a plan of the frigate in the saloon of the
Sweet Promise,
but they had got no idea from it as to where the gold had been stored. Helen favoured the
captain
’
s cabin as the most likely place, but to get
t
here they would have to go right through the sunken ship. When she had turned over, she had made things a great deal more awkward for them all.

When at last she had done, she saw by her gauge that she had only a few seconds in which to surface before her cylinders of air were completely empty. She was cross with herself for cutting it so fine. She liked to come up slowly, without any strain, for she had long ago discovered that most of the bad effects that could follow a dive, like headaches and a feeling of nausea, depended on how one came up. To come up too quickly was never a good idea.

But there was nothing she could do this time but to surface as quickly as she could. She took in a final deep breath of compressed air and felt herself bobbing upwards like a cork. There was a rushing sensation in her ears and she felt dizzy, but then there was the warm sun on her face and she tore off her mask, spitting out the mouthpiece, and took in some great gulps of air.

It was Gregory who helped her back on board.
“
Why didn
’
t you come up before?
”
he asked her angrily.
“
What did you think you were doing?
”

“
He
’
s been as cross as two sticks!
”
Anita added sourly.

Helen forced a smile.
“
It
’
s all ready for tomorrow,
”
she gasped.

“
Why didn
’
t you take
t
wo trips over it?
”
Gregory demanded, still angry.

“
I keep telling you, we
’
re running short of compressed air,
”
she murmured.
“
I didn
’
t want to waste any.
”

Anita clapped a hand over her mouth.
“
Don
’
t start him off again on that,
”
she pleaded.
“
I
’
ve had nothing else ever since you went down. I don
’
t think coming out here agrees with him. He
’
s been like a bear with a sore head all afternoon!
”

Helen smiled despite herself. She felt a great deal
better. If he knew how low their stocks were, then she needn
’
t worry any longer, she thought comfortably. It was pleasant and warm on the deck and she shut her eyes to turn her face to the sun. She must indeed have been tired, for in a few seconds she was fast asleep.

When Helen awoke, someone had carried her down below and had deposited her on to one of the berths in the forecabin. She wriggled her legs and felt the rough warmth of the blanket that had been flung over her. She sat up quickly and looked out of the porthole. The sun had just set and the last light was falling away below the horizon. In another few minutes it would be completely dark. How on earth long had she been asleep? She glanced at he
r
watch, but she hadn
’
t got it on. It didn
’
t really matter,
she
decided, for the engines were still going so they couldn
’
t have arrived back in harbour. And the sleep had done her good. She felt as fresh now as she had when she had started!

A soft knock at the door preceded Anita bringing her a cup of tea.

“
Gregory said to wake you,
”
she said.
“
I do think you might have
g
ot up earlier, though, Helen. He
’
s had to do everything to get us back to harbour!
”

“
I can
’
t think why I fell asleep,
”
Helen apologised.
“
I don
’
t usually!
”

Anita sniffed.
“
Gregory seems to think you
’
ve been doing too much recently,
”
she informed her coldly.

“
Has he been beastly?
”
Helen asked sympathetically.

Anita looked
s
hocked.
“
I don
’
t think Gregory is ever beastly,
”
she said daintily.
“
He
’
s a bit worried, that
’
s all. Not that he need have been, as I told him. His leg is quite enough for him to worry about!
”

“
Well, I think he can be beastly!
”
Helen said thoughtfully.
“
In fact he can be nastier than anyone else I know
!”

Anita smiled a superior smile.
“
I thought you reserved that for my mother,
”
she reminded her.
“
And with a great deal more justification!
”
she added justly.

H
elen sipped at her tea and swung her legs on to the floor, stretching herself as she prepared to get up.
“
Don
’
t remind me!
”
she exclaimed.
“
I
’
d forgotten for the moment!
”

“
Then you don
’
t think so badly of Gregory, do you?
”
Anita went on smugly.
“
You can
’
t really think he
’
s nasty!
”

Helen wondered briefly why her sister-in-law should be so concerned with what she thought about anybody. She frowned thoughtfully.
“
He can be quite nice too—sometimes,
”
she said judiciously.

Anita giggled.
“
I think you like him more than you
’
re saying!
”
she observed.
“
And it
’
s no good getting cross! I know how you used to look at Mi
c
hael sometimes! You
’
d go all dreamy and thoughtful about him.
”

More annoyed than she could say, Helen struggled into her clothes.
“
And what has that to do with it?
”
she demanded darkly.

Her sister-in-law blinked.
“
N—nothing,
”
she said nervously.
“
Only, Helen, don
’
t you think that Gregory sometimes has that effect too?
”

“
On every female within a radius of fifty miles!
”
Helen agreed crossly.

Anita sighed.
“
I suppose so,
”
she admitted.
“
But I wish
he
were Peter. He
’
s more like Michael, don
’
t you think?
”

Helen hadn
’
t thought about it at all, but she was prepared to agree to anything so that they could talk about something else besides Gregory de Vaux. She grew muddled whenever she thought of him, and she
preferred to have all her thoughts neat and logical—and manageable!

“
Do you like Peter?
”
she asked Anita with interest.

To her surprise, her sister-in-law took a long time to answer.
“
I hardly know,
”
she said at last.
“
He has a terrific admiration for you, Helen. At least, he hopes to dance with you tonight. He told me so!
”

“
With me?
”
Helen repeated. It would be nice and comfortable to have Peter Harmon as her escort to Miss Corrigan
’
s party, she thought happily.
“
Good!
”
she said out loud.
“
I hope he does dance with me!
”
And she wondered why Anita gave her such an odd look before she took her empty cup back to the saloon.

The whole hotel had been decorated for Miss Corrigan
’
s party. Palm leaves hung from the ceilings in clusters, the water in the swimming pool had been coloured a delicious deep shade of green, and there were coconuts, carefully prepared, for all the guests to drink from. It was strange at first to see the empty hotel come to life under the presence of its American guests. They were everywhere, determined to make the most of their short stay in the Islands. The novelty of everything appealed to them, and that they should be included so readily in Miss Corrigan
’
s party went straight to their hearts. They were unanimous in their determination that the party should really swing!

Miss Corrigan herself was all that was gracious. She fell easily into the part, despite her large, bulky figure and the uncompromising style in which she wore her hair.

“
There must be plenty of everything,
”
she had told Peter.
“
I won
’
t have anything skimped. Tell the boys to get busy bringing in the lobsters, clams, and everything else, will you?
”

Peter had been rather nonplussed at first. He was accustomed to importing all his needs from the States, and he was frankly astonished at how this elderly spinster set about things. He had not known
that the Islands could produce such a variety of foods. For, apart from all the seafoods, there were sweet potatoes, pineapples and other fruits, sucking-pigs all ready to be baked in the traditional manner, sweet co
rn
, piled up cob upon cob, and so many coconuts that he gave up trying to count them. It seemed the whole Melongese people had combined to provide Miss Corrigan with everything that she might need, most of them refusing to accept anything at all by way of payment.

The whole day had been spent in these lavish preparations. Peter had been everywhere at once, working harder than he had since he had been chosen to manage the hotel.

“
I missed you,
”
he said to Anita.
“
I
’
ve got used to having you around
!”

Anita looked pleased.
“
I wish I had been here— in a way,
”
she said shyly.
“
It was nice being o
n
the
boat, of course, but I wondered what you were doing here—
”

“
Were they kind to you
?”
he shot at her.

“
Of course they were!
”
she insisted.
“
There was a bit of an upset because the supplies hadn
’
t come, but they seemed to get over that.
”

Peter groaned.
“
Oh lord! I forgot to tell you. I told them to leave their stuff off for this trip. I
t
hought we
’
d need such a lot of stuff for this party and I didn
’
t think there
’
d be any hurry—
”

Anita giggled nervously.
“
I don
’
t think it matters,
”
she soothed him, then she wrinkled up her brow thoughtfully.
“
Quite honestly, I think they take everything far too seriously. There wasn
’
t a breath of wind today, but they did nothing but talk about some typhoon or other, just as if it were going to
come upon us at any moment.
It would be quite exciting, wouldn
’
t it?
”

Peter grinned.
“
I
’
ll believe it when I see it!
”
he agreed.

Helen stood awkwardly in the centre of the foyer, knowing that she shouldn
’
t be listening to someone else
’
s conversation.

“
It
’
s easy to see that neither of you have ever been in a typhoon!
”
she said loudly, to remind them that she was there.

“
Have you?
”
Anita enquired sweetly.

Helen shook her head.
“
But I
’
ve heard my father speaking about them,
”
she said.

Anita smiled gently.
“
That hardly makes you an expert, darling,
”
she drawled.
“
I expect Peter knows far more about it than you do.
”

Helen had no such faith.
“
We ought to go and change,
”
she suggested, hoping to change the subject.
“
Almost everybody else has come downstairs. Doesn
’
t it all look
pretty
?”

Anita looked about her, wide-eyed and suddenly gay.
“
Oh, it does!
”
she
agreed.
“
I
’
ve never seen anything so pretty. You
’
ve done a marvellous job, Peter!
”

Helen was conscious of Peter
’
s eyes on her face, expecting her to join in the praise, but somehow the words stuck in her throat. She knew that Peter hadn
’
t really been responsible for them, that had been Miss Corrigan and, although there was no reason for her not to congratulate him as well as the old lady,
she
couldn
’
t bring herself to do so.

“
Come on,
”
she said urgently to Anita.
“
We must go and change!
”

The lifts were occupied, so they raced each other up the stairs, clattering up them as fast as they could go. When they arrived on
the
floor where they were now sleeping, they were breathless and unable to speak.

“
I
’
m glad I kept my prettiest dress for tonight,
”
Anita said when she could.
“
What are you going to wear?
”

Helen smiled softly.
“
Lace over a shocking pink petticoat,
”
she said.
“
It
’
s by far the nicest dress I have.
”

Anita hesitated.
“
But do you think you ought to?
”
she asked frankly.

“
Why not
?”

Anita coloured.
“
Well, you being a widow,
”
she
said awkwardly.
“
It isn
’
t the same, is it?
”

Helen was frankly surprised.
“
What do you expect me to wear?
”
she demanded.
“
Black crepe?
”

“
Of course not
!”
Anita muttered.
“
Only
shocking pink,
Helen? Michael wouldn
’
t have liked it, would he?
”

“
Michael won
’
t be here to see me!
”
Helen snapped. She went into her room and slammed the door shut behind her. Would Mi
c
hael have objected? She couldn
’
t be sure. But she could be sure that she didn
’
t care! It wasn
’
t
Michael
that she wanted to please tonight! She was going to please herself! She told herself that often while she was dressing, but she knew even then that it was only a half-truth. The one she really wanted to please was unlikely to notice, but in case he did— In case he did, she took a great deal of care with her hair and even more care with her make-up. She thought she looked quite pretty when she had finished at her dressing-table and stood in the centre of the room, looking at hers
el
f in the long glass, as she swept first the shocking pink watered silk petticoat over her head and then the hand-made lace dress. When she had done, even she was astonished by the result. She fe
lt
a little prick of pleasure in the back of her spine as she knew herself to be looking truly beautiful. He couldn
’
t help but notice, she thought with pride, she looked like a new person ; a younger, gayer version of her old self, a young girl ready for love.