by Gloria Bevan
"Why wouldn't he agree?"
"Oh, I don't know. Some absurd notion he had about it not paying . . . and other things."
"I can make a guess as to what the 'other things' were. And it must have mattered to you quite a bit or you wouldn't be in such a state about it !"
"I'm not in a state," Robyn protested hotly. "It's just so unfair!"
Pam gave her sad mocking smile. "Is that what you call it? When is he coming down here again?"
"Don't ask me ! When the builders start work here, I suppose. I don't know. And I don't care either ! " she said with feeling.
But the other girl wasn't listening. There was an intentness in her glance. "I don't suppose you happened to come across Johnny when you were around the wharves in Suva?"
"I did, actually." Robyn picked up a handful of sand and watched the heavy grains drop through her fingers.
"You don't have to spell it out," Pam said thickly. "I can see from your face that he wasn't alone. It was Noeline, wasn't it? They were off for a cruise with her parents on their palatial yacht?"
Robyn didn't know what to say.
"Oh, I've heard all about it," Pam's voice was unsteady, "but I didn't believe it. You know how it is, you don't believe a thing because you don't want to, yet all the time deep down you know perfectly well that it's true. You keep hoping ... and hoping ... thinking that one of these days he'll come back with arms wide open, telling you it was all a mistake and he's loved you all the time — he didn't ask about me?"
Robyn shook her head. "There wasn't time. I only saw him for a minute or so. He — they — were due to sail in half an hour." She was shocked to see the other girl had paled beneath the tan. "I'm sorry, Pam," she murmured awkwardly, "I wish I could do something to help."
Pam tried in vain to steady her trembling lips. "You can't. I've just got to get over him, somehow. It's his being with her that hurts so much. He must have cared for her all along. That's the part I can't take."
"David said it could be revenge?" The words came to her lips unthinkingly.
For a moment an expression of hope lighted Pam's features, then she sighed. "No such luck, I'm afraid."
"It must be terrible," Robyn said quietly, "to love anyone as much as that."
Pam rose to her feet, stooping to brush the sand from her legs. "How do you know you don't?" she said, and began to walk away towards the house.
Robyn stared after her. What a thing to say ! Whatever could she mean? Close on the thought came another — the shame-making conviction that she could very easily feel that way about David. Placed as she was, it was a risk she would have to take ! Running down to the water, she struck out with firm strokes, trying with physical activity to dispel the disturbing thoughts Pam's words had evoked.
CHAPTER VI
WITHIN a few days the workmen arrived at the guesthouse. Tall, powerfully built Fijians, they tumbled out of dust-coated trucks and, seemingly impervious to heat and humidity, began without delay to tear down rotting timbers and to rip out inside walls, leaving parts of the building open to sunlight and stars. Scaffolding was erected and before long the air was filled with the sound of hammering and the rasp and buzz of chain saws.
As the days went by she found herself endlessly looking for David, her eyes scanning the fragment of the coast road visible from the house in search of his long red car. But of course he didn't have to be here. Why should he? He had already completed the plans for the renovation. Now the actual manual labour was over to other hands, building contractors, plumbing firms, electricians. There was no other reason to draw him back to the Islander. Johnny, angry and resentful, had vanished into the blue and of course David wasn't interested in her. Not in that way, the only way that mattered. Except of course as someone to tease, to argue with. She couldn't understand why she missed him so. He wasn't even all that good-looking, only dark and burly and easy to get along with (except when they had one of their frequent arguments).
By the end of the week the new outline was taking definite shape and soon the smell of paint mingled with the resinous tang of freshly-cut timber. Over the paths winding amongst the palms concrete was being poured in an endless stream and on the slope fronting the main entrance a bulldozer was busy churning up sand and earth in preparation for the construction of the turtle-shaped swimming pool.
And still David hadn't come back to the Islander. As day followed day Robyn continued to take the Katrina out to the gardens of the reef. It was so easy to manoeuvre the boat nowadays that she couldn't think how she could ever have imagined it to be difficult. Even without a larger craft she could still have arranged for one of the native boys to dive in the water and recover bounty from the deep, but somehow the scheme didn't appeal any longer. Even to herself she refused to admit that it was because David had been adamant on that point and somehow she hesitated to defy him.
The remainder of the time she was free, to wander barefoot over the sands, to swim and sunbathe and dream. Johnny might come to his senses in time and decide to work in with David after all. It would be so wonderful because then she would be free to ... to ... Always at this point her thoughts stopped. She would be caught in a longing piercing in its intensity. If only David would come back ! This time things would be different. She wouldn't even mention Johnny's name and spoil everything.
Yet when he did arrive she was taken by surprise. She hadn't seen his car in the driveway and coming up from the beach she suddenly found herself looking up to meet his friendly grin. "How's everything going, Rob?" His tone was quite impersonal.
"Oh ... fine." Swept by confusion, she didn't know what to say. If he was still thinking in terms of their last stormy meeting, and this was the way he wanted it ... A building overseer was approaching along the winding path, and with a hurried "See you," she flung him a smile and went on towards the house. If he wants to see me he can easily find me, she told herself, but he made no immediate effort to seek her out and, piqued and hurt, she took care to keep out of his way.
It was really surprising, she found during the following days, how easy it was to avoid someone if you really put your mind to it. Especially when there was so much movement going on all around her. When for all her efforts to avoid him, her cool nod was met by his smiling greeting, she hurried on, giving him no opportunity to linger.
Looking back it seemed to her now that the shining happiness of their meeting at the native markets, the cruise on the Olooloo, might never have been. Forget it, Rob. Better not to let yourself get involved with him. Good thinking, but somehow difficult to put into practice. Had he approached her, asked her to forget their differences, make it "start-again" time once more, she knew she wouldn't have hesitated to meet him half-way, not for one moment! Only he never did. Perhaps he was too busy with his own activities to waste time with a stupid girl with crazy schemes for coral boats. More likely he just ... didn't care. Especially now that he was expecting his "friend" at the Islander, that super-efficient woman who, from what she could gather, was just about everything that she herself wasn't! Trained to a high standard of efficiency in dealing with the public, an expert in all aspects of tourism; confident, poised, inwardly secure. Lovely to look at too, she wouldn't wonder, Robyn mused moodily.
But whatever their private differences she was forced to admit that David deserved his reputation as a leading architect of the South Pacific. Without apparent effort and in spite of lazy island atmosphere he seemed to have a knack of getting things done. Now that the project was nearing completion she could see that he had achieved his objective, that special harmony with the elements of nature. How had he put it? "An involvement with the environment." For viewed from the vantage point of the Katrina out at the coral reef, the low thatched roofs and stained timbers in the shelter of the clutered coconut palms fringing the sandy shore blended to form part of the surrounding landscape.
One day on her return from her trip on the glass-bottomed boat she found a letter awaiting her. It was from a large group of travel p
romoters with headquarters in Suva, commissioning the painting of a special mural featuring facets of Fijian life to be hung in the native-style restaurant of one of a chain of world-class hotels now in the course of construction in the islands of Fiji. In addition she was requested to execute a number of wall hangings in the media of black velvet, preferably native women and child studies.
Robyn couldn't understand why she wasn't more excited over this unexpected stroke of good fortune. She had heard of the Plantation, of course, one of a chain of luxurious hotels now being erected on the opposite coast. To have her pictures on exhibition there must inevitably lead to further commissioned art work of a similar nature. It was wonderful of Johnny to have mentioned her name and thus put the opportunity her way. Why then wasn't she more elated by this sudden success? Somehow all she could think of was David. This would serve to show him that she wasn't utterly without talents, even if her gifts didn't lie in the direction of hostessing for the tourist trade. Then she remembered. At the moment they weren't exactly on speaking terms, she and David, and he wouldn't be the slightest bit interested in her affairs anyway. The thought took the edge from the news. Oh, why did he have to spoil everything for her? she thought illogically.
The letter still in her hand, she made her way along the snowy concrete path leading towards the line of bures with their tattered thatched roofing and peeling paintwork. Soon, she knew, the shabby huts would be demolished, but meantime they made a temporary shelter for the staff, Mrs. Daley and herself while the main building was in the course of renovation. David made visits to the Islander from the big hotel around the point. Did he stay there in order to avoid contact with her? She couldn't tell. She wished she knew the answer.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't see him approaching her. The next moment she was enmeshed in his brown gaze, where surprise mingled with something else ... something that had the effect of turning her mind into a wild confusion so that she forgot everything but the warm intimacy of his gaze, made her cry "David !" in a delighted way when she should have gone right past him with a couldn't-care-less smile But it was too late. Her heart was racing and he was smiling, and all at once the blue-skied day was electric, like herself.
"Got some mail, Robyn?"
Ordinary enough words. No reason at all for her to feel this surge of pure happiness. "Oh yes, yes!" Belatedly she wrenched her gaze away and stared down at the folded paper in her hand. "It's fantastic! The most wonderful news ever! Do you know, I've just been offered a commission for a mural and wall hangings. Guess who it's from !"
"Tell me." He looked almost as delighted as herself.
"The plantation ! The big new hotel that's going up on the other coast. I just can't believe I've been so lucky !"
"Not lucky, Rob, talented. You know, you deserve a break. Your work's good and you get just the right touch, a balance between modern stylized forms and the spirit of Fiji itself. Going to make it figures or shells and sea stuff ?"
"I haven't decided yet." She was still breathless with happiness. "They've given me a free field for the mural, I thought maybe a seascape, and for the black velvet wall hangings I've got to use native figures, women and children preferred."
"Those child studies you made at the native village," enthusiasm coloured his tone, "you could work from those !"
"That's what I thought too !" At the warmth of his voice all her worries were miraculously magicked away. Oh, it was heaven to have him on her side like this, helping instead of opposing her.
"Congratulations ! This calls for a celebration, but for a start, how about a personally conducted tour of inspection?"
He caught her fingers in a warm clasp and they strolled over lush green lawns together, pausing to watch the concrete being poured into the hollowed-out shape at the foot of the slope. In a lull in the din of the mixers, David said, "That was an inspiration of yours, having the pool made turtle-shaped. It's something different from all the others on the island, topical too !" He turned to her with a grin. "All things considered, we make a pretty good team, wouldn't you say?" He was squinting into the sun and she couldn't tell whether or not he was making fun of her. You could never be sure with David. Not that it mattered, of course, yet somehow it did — terribly.
The noise started again and he drew her forward. "Come on, let's get out of here. It'll be much more interesting in a couple of weeks' time when the blue tiles are all down and the infiltration plant's working. After that, I've got ideas about having the slope terraced ... flowering shrubs dotted about ... what do you think?"
"That would be super! Hibiscus — lots of them !" In her new-found happiness all thought of barbed rejoinders and significant silences fled from her mind.
"Colour?"
"Every shade there is ! Pink, red, yellow, orange ... and around the edge of the pool, those purple orchids that grow wild around here. They'd be tall enough to lean over the edge of the water."
"It's as good as done ! We'll have them.' We!
As they moved into the shade of the thatched walkway connecting the main building with the wide patio, David remarked, "I've ordered small tables and chairs for this area. Sun umbrellas for the tables set out on the grass and a food bar running along the back wall."
"Could we have violet-coloured table tops with black wrought-iron chairs?"
"Why not?"
They strolled on past small thatched huts now being painted in gay colours that were dotted amidst surrounding greenery. "You know something, Rob? You've been a terrific help to me with all this."
"Me?"
"But you have ! I'll tell you something else too." She could scarcely concentrate on what he was saying for the excitement running from his fingers to her own. "Any architect will tell you that his best work comes from a definite empathy with the client ... harmony of interest. You know?"
Was he having a joke at her expense? She couldn't tell. His tone was non-committal, so why was she trembling? Lamely she heard herself murmur, "I'm not a client — well, not exactly." She added in some confusion, "And we haven't been all that close —"
"We could be," he said softly.
She caught her breath. Just what did he mean by that? But a workman came into sight, clearly in search of David and he turned to speak with him. Afterwards they moved past the wide picture windows with their vista of palms and lagoon and as they entered the cool dimness of the low ranch-style building, Robyn said, "Tell me about yourself."
He grinned down at her. "Nothing much to tell."
"I don't believe it. Went to school . . . where?"
"Sleepy little village in Cornwall."
"And then?"
"On to university in London for a course of architecture, and that was about it."
"Oh, come on, you must have done something more than just study —"
"Not for a long time. I was lucky ... managed to gain a travelling scholarship in Architecture that took me to Germany and further study. After that it was private practice in England, then this trip out to the South Pacific. Not a very interesting account, really."
"It is to me." Or would be, she amended silently, if only he hadn't left out all the important things, such as how it was that he had reached the age of thirty or thereabouts and was still a bachelor. Suddenly she found herself feeling awfully glad that he hadn't married a girl overseas.
"This room at the entrance," he was saying, "is to be the craft shop."
She paused beside him. "I can imagine. Quaint little place with lots of local souvenirs — nice ones that folk can take home with them. Especially light-weight articles for air travellers. Clothing too ... fun shirts for the men, sulus and saris for the girls, for that island dinner. We must have some of those pretty 'butterfly frocks' with the wide sleeves." She laughed up at him. "Just the thing to get the feminine guests into the exotic South Pacific island atmosphere!"
"You don't mind giving a hand there?"
"I don't mind." Today she didn't care about anything, not
even co
nceding him a point on the matter of assisting with the craft shop.
"It'll mean giving up the coral boat excursions you like so much."
"I know. I've thought of that, but it will be only until Johnny gets back —" swiftly she ran on before he could make any comment, "and Selani's got a boy-friend in the village who would be ideal for the job. They're hoping to get married one of these days and it would help him, and her too."
"Great! That's settled, then. You'll need to get in some stock before the opening date. Could I leave that part of things with you? Maybe you could get on the phone and put an order in to the stores in Suva?"
"No problem." The airy mood persisted.
They moved through the kitchen, now transformed into an attractive work area with long shining stainless steel benches, excellent lighting, a long white electric range and electric mixers and dishwasher.
Eve Daley followed them in, her grey locks still damp from her swim.
"Isn't it hot outside! Thank heaven for decent air-conditioning at last! As well as for everything else one could possibly wish for in cooking for a crowd of guests !" She put an experimental finger on the drying paintwork. "I'm glad you're getting in a professional chef, David, now the place has a first-class restaurant. I'll be much happier just looking after the housework and keeping an eye on the maids. Right now I'm having a holiday, a good excuse to take things easy. Would you two care to join me, have coffee ?"
"Sorry," David declined the invitation, "but we're on a tour of inspection. Self-contained units coming up! On your way, Robyn!"
They moved into the first apartment where the smell of recent paintwork still lingered. Robyn glanced around her in unconcealed admiration, taking in the harmonious colour scheme in tonings of cream and amber and rich browns. Her gaze moved over the twin day beds with their gay covers, white paintwork, white venetian blinds at the windows. The stained floors were covered with matting. "I had no idea the furnishings had arrived."