by Gloria Bevan
"Next door to you, actually."
"I know!" Maria's accusing gaze went to Robyn's face, with freckles standing out against the pallor. "It was you," she cried wildly. "It was all your fault! You were smoking in bed! Look at her!" Wildly she swung around to face David. "Still in the clothes she was wearing yesterday! She fell asleep while her cigarette was still alight and set fire the bure!"
Robyn was miserably conscious of her crumpled shift, the singed shreds of the chiffon scarf with which her hair was tied back from her face. For a moment she couldn't remember. Was the table lamp still lighted in the bure when she awoke? She couldn't deny the charge because she wasn't certain herself of what had happened.
"You've got it all wrong, you know." Unexpectedly David came to her rescue. "The boy who came running to tell me about the flames said he'd seen the thatch on the roof catch in a sheet of forked lightning. I beat him back to the bures by about a minute !"
Maria took no notice. "I warned her about that very thing! I told her not to —" To Robyn the other girl appeared to be on the verge of hysteria.
"I'll go and make some tea." She slipped away, meeting Mrs. Daley outside the door, an incongruous figure still wearing her old-fashioned nightwear. The older woman glanced from the tray of teacups in her hand to Robyn. "One of these is for you."
"Thank you, but I'll have it in the kitchen with you and the others."
Robyn dropped down at the table where Selani and the native boys were already gathered, their huge brown eyes wide with excitement as they discussed the events of the night. Pressently through the clamour of voices she became aware of David. He was pouring a cup of steaming tea from a massive teapot and sliding it along the table towards her. "Come on, Rob, down that!"
It was a little late, she mused, suddenly weary, for David to be regarding her with that look of solicitude.
"No after-effects?" He was eyeing her intently.
"None at all."
"Too bad about your stuff. The fire made a clean job of everything inside your bure. Was there anything in particular there that you won't be able to replace?"
She raised her heavy glance to his. Only a love affair, David, but I'm not letting on to you about that! Aloud she murmured, "Not really. Some boxes of paints, a couple of sketchbooks, nothing all that important."
"How about those pictures of the island kids you made in the native village that day?"
So he could still spare a thought for details of her small unimportant doings. "It's all right. I lent them to Selani to show to her sister and she hadn't got around to returning them."
"What about gear ?"
Robyn shrugged. "Just a few shifts and things, a couple of bikinis. Nothing very expensive." Not like Maria, who would have lost a wardrobe of high-fashion garments. She remembered the soft creamy leather travel bags. Anyway, an experienced traveller like Maria would be certain to be well covered for the value of her personal belongings. Not like herself. There was no insurance against a lost love ! She sighed and brought her heavy thoughts back to David's tones.
"I've got to get back to Maria. She's taking all this pretty hard, poor kid."
Kid ! Belatedly she remembered that only his prompt intervention tonight had saved her from real danger, possibly even the loss of her life. "Thanks for ... coming along," she murmured diffidently. Somehow it was awfully hard to concentrate on the words when his gaze was fixed on her downcast face. "It was so late. How did you happen to be still here?"
"Oh, I'd stayed on at the house, working on some plans I was drawing up. I'd just decided to pack it in and call it a day when one of the boys came in shouting that he'd just seen smoke pouring from the roof of your bure."
"Lucky for me ! "
"Luckier for Maria."
Of course he must consider her first of all. From now on, she mused bleakly, it would always be this way. Maria, Maria.
"I'm taking her back to Suva for a few days," David was saying. "The Islander isn't quite ready for guests yet and a change of scene might serve to get the whole thing out of her mind. Before she comes back I'll see that the old bures are
pulled down. That way, there'll be nothing to remind her of what happened tonight."
Robyn wanted to ask him why it was so important that Maria shouldn't be upset in the slightest degree; why he had to go to so much trouble simply for the sake of a new manageress for the Islander. But of course she wasn't thinking straight tonight, she told herself. Why fool herself? Maria was someone special, a girl for whom he obviously cared a lot.
His voice softened. "You'll be all right, Rob? You've got no bad burns, nothing like that?"
"I told you, I'm fine. I got out just in time, not like Maria —"
"No." His tone was abstracted. "It was bad luck, this happening to her. If only there's no permanent damage . . ."
What could he mean? she thought, mystified. "But she wasn't badly burned, was she?"
"No, no. It's just —" He checked himself, frowning thoughtfully and whatever it was he had been about to say, he changed his mind. "She needs looking after for a few days, that's all."
All! Robyn crushed down the hot words that rose to her lips. She might as well get used to the fact right as from this moment that he could think of no one but Maria. Almost she was glad that they were both leaving in the morning !
CHAPTER VII
"A TELEPHONE call for you, Robyn, from Suva." Mrs. Daley's grey head was thrust around the door of the unit where Robyn had transferred her few personal possessions left undamaged by the fire. Suva! Perhaps it was David ! She flew to the telephone, then remembered just in time about Maria and schooled the excitement from her tones.
"Robyn !" In spite of everything her heart gave the familiar lurch at the sound of his voice. "How are you feeling now? No after-effects, shock, nothing like that?"
"No, I'm still disgustingly healthy, but it was nice of you to ring." Once again an inborn courtesy prompted her to say, "How's Maria ?"
"Not too bad. Once she's over the shock of it all she'll pick up. You haven't forgotten that date we had to look around for some stock for the new shop, in Suva?"
Forgotten! When she had been looking forward to the outing so eagerly — but of course that was before Maria's arrival. It would have been fun, the wistful thoughts ran through her mind, choosing souvenirs and clothing together. Now she was determined to deal with the buying of the stock herself. If she made a wrong selection at least that would be preferable to being forced to spend the day in the company of David and Maria.
"Call me back," he was saying, "you can get me any time at the Outrigger and I'll come over and pick you up. We'll make it a fairly small order for a start, then see how we make out. Which day —"
"I'll let you know," Robyn said faintly.
"Make it soon ! I'll be down before the end of the month. I'm arranging for a Magiti — know what that is, Rob?"
"Isn't it an island dinner, dancing —"
"You've got it ! Actually it's to mark the official opening
of the Islander. It won't matter if guests have been staying for a week or two before that. I can count on Maria to have everything under control."
No doubt, Robyn agreed waspishly. Apart from her obsession in regard to fire dangers, nothing could ever throw Maria!
"I'm fixing the date as the thirtieth ..." A pause ... there was no alteration in his friendly tones, but then was there ever anything to which she could pin him down? "Any chance, would you say, of getting your brother to come along?"
"I'll try." She endeavoured to infuse some certainty into her tones, but deep down she realised he knew that she had no idea of Johnny's whereabouts. He could have returned from a short cruise around the islands in the Noeline. If only he would let her know. Lamely she heard herself say, "He promised me he'd be back at the Islander as soon as the place got going again."
"Okay, then. I'll leave that part of the proceedings to you —you're sure you're feeling all right, Robyn?" That was the disadvantag
e of the telephone, it magnified nuances, betrayed feelings you had scarcely acknowledged yourself, like loving him so much .. .
"Yes, yes, of course I am. See you later, then." Having cut the conversation short, she immediately regretted it. Oh, what was the matter with her that she could never hide anything, even being in love with him, in spite of Maria, in spite of everything. Listlessly she turned away, staring unseeingly out at the swishing banana palms that brushed the patio.
A light tap on the door interrupted her musings. "Was that David on the phone?" Mrs. Daley came to stand at her side. She nodded. "He was just asking how everything was around here."
The older woman sent her a shrewd glance. "Well, I don't think you look all that wonderful. Peaky, that's how you look. You've had a shock, Robyn, and it takes some getting over." (More of a shock than you'll ever know, Mrs. Daley). Robyn
wrenched her mind back to the friendly tones. "Why not take a run into Suva? You've still time to catch the bus. You'll need to replace the clothing and stuff you lost last night."
Robyn dragged her heavy thoughts from David — and Maria. "David wants some stock for the craft shop. I'll have to go in one day soon to choose it." No need to explain that she had to force herself to the task for which she had no enthusiasm, not now. "But what about the coral boat if I'm not here?"
"Don't give it a thought! Selani's Lesi will be only too pleased to have the chance to take the tourists out to the reef. He's a reliable type of Fijian, one of the best!"
"Perhaps I will." Listlessly she reflected that the trip to Suva would be something to do, an activity to take her mind from her own dreary thoughts and the mental pictures of Maria and David, happy together as he escorted his "friend" around the tourist attractions of the city. Actually, she had urgent need to make a visit to Suva in order to replace the clothing she had lost in the fire. Then too she must purchase a new supply of painting materials, oils, sketchpads, pencils. She should be making an immediate start on the newly-commissioned mural. She would, she promised herself, once she got the better of this sense of heartache that left her with no interest in anything, not even the art work that was such a wonderful career opportunity. Trouble was, she didn't want a career. She yearned for all the fulfilment of a once-in-a-lifetime love affair, marriage ... she wanted David. Oh, what was the use? She wrenched her thoughts aside and brought her mind back to Mrs. Daley's kindly tones.
"That's more like it. Do you good to have a change. If you have time why don't you go up to the house? It's right in the town, on the hill overlooking the harbour. The boys are always wanting to meet you," the weather-roughened face broke into a teasing smile, "especially Kevin, that younger son of mine. He'll be around the place, I expect. If you see him tell him from me that he's got to get down to his studies. He's simply got to get a couple of units at least this year at university or I'll want to know the reason why."
"I'll tell him, if I see him." Inwardly, however, she had no intention of visiting the house on the hill in Suva. In her present mood of despair she was in no humour to meet strangers, no matter how friendly.
Forcing herself to concentrate on the matters in hand, she enquired of the older woman the names of stores likely to stock the souvenir and local craft articles she needed for the new shop at the Islander.
"You could probably pick up things a lot cheaper at the market."
"No, I don't want to go there !" Today she was in no frame of mind to be reminded of the day she and David had spent there together.
Mrs. Daley misinterpreted her objection. "It is awfully crowded, and smelly too — all that fish — but there are lots of small stores where you'll be able to find what you want. I'll make out a list, then you won't have to waste time looking for things in the heat."
"Thank you."
"And don't forget, if there's no one at the house, just open the door and make yourself at home."
An hour later, wearing the orange-coloured shift that was the single frock remaining from her scanty wardrobe, Robyn stepped on to the bus that lumbered to a halt in the dusty road at the entrance to the motel. The vehicle took the road that coiled along deserted sun-splashed beaches, before it curved inland to plunge through a riot of tropical trees, bamboo groves, ferns and wild hibiscus bushes. Presently they cut between great hills covered in dense jungle growth and at last turned into a smooth highway. Ahead shadowy blue hills rose beyond the harbour. Small bays swept by, clustered with fishing craft and cruisers. Was one of those white-sailed keelers the Noeline? And was Johnny still aboard as one of the passengers on the luxury yacht?
Presently they ran into the busy streets of the city, threading their way between the bluest of seas while cars and taxis and trucks laden with local produce for the nearby open market shot around them. The beauty of it all, the heat-hazy day, the great spreading banyan trees throwing their shade over the colourful street, all underlined Robyn's own heartache. Somehow she must pull herself together, think of the tasks ahead, concentrate on souvenir stores, new clothing for herself.
She strolled along the side street where Fijian women, hibiscus blossoms tucked in thick dark hair, mingled with Indian women in their brilliantly coloured silk saris. There was a sprinkling of tourists who had no doubt recently stepped ashore from the great white cruise ship berthed in the harbour nearby.
Pausing at the plate-glass windows of a modern store, she eyed the wealth of treasures on display. China ornaments from leading manufacturers in England, pearl jewellery from the Orient, jade from the East. Then she moved on, passing small Chinese restaurants and native tailors' shops. When she found the stores on her list they proved to be of quite a different variety, dark bazaar-like places crammed with a medley of souvenirs, native handwork and printed cottons. In one she purchased silk saris and lengths of cotton material printed in primitive designs of lizards and sea shells and tropical flowers. In another, she bought fun-shirts for men and boys. A little further along the street was a tiny store stocked with scuffs and sunhats woven from coconut fibre and decorated with shell ornaments. There were necklaces of shells and seedpods, hula skirts made from dyed fibres — even miniature hula skirts for little girls.
For herself from a European store she selected light woven sandals, gaily-printed T-shirts, cotton shorts, vividly patterned shifts and bikinis, undergarments. To the pile of garments lying on the counter she added a peasant frock with cool white muslin embroidered top and a long dark skirt that would swirl around her ankles. Maybe it would serve to give a lift to her sagging confidence, help her through the evenings that lay ahead.
As she had expected in a city famed as a mecca for artists from all parts of the world, she found no difficulty in replacing her paint losses. The art materials together with her personal purchases she took with her and the grateful storekeepers assured her that the stock for the craft shop would be delivered to the Islander within a few days. That should please David —and Maria — she thought bleakly.
Perhaps this would be a good opportunity to try to get in touch with Johnny. At least she could telephone the home of the girl with whom he now spent so much of his time. Not that she wished to ring Noeline's home, but it was the only way she could think of to contact Johnny, and she did want him to be at the official opening of the motel, if only to prove to David that her faith in her brother was justified after all.
She went into the nearest telephone booth and in some trepidation dialled the house. There was no answer, so she tried the Yacht Club. A polite masculine voice assured her that yes, he knew the girl Robyn was enquiring about. At the moment she was away on the family yacht together with a party of friends and relatives and he wasn't aware of the date they were due back. Was there any message?
"It doesn't matter." With a sinking heart she replaced the receiver in its cradle. At least, she'd tried.
She still had the afternoon to fill in before catching the daily bus back to the Coral Coast. She could of course wander up and down the street, inspect more closely the luxuriously
appointed stores to which she had given only a cursory glance, explore the small alleyways and places of local interest. But what if she came face to face with those other two in the street? The thought made her change her mind concerning Mrs. Daley's family home. At least it would be somewhere to go, and maybe if she were lucky enough, there would be no one at the house and she could spend the time there alone.
The heat was increasing and her footsteps slowed as she made her way up the steep slope where houses and tall apartment blocks rose amidst vivid greenery, and the air was pervaded with the perfume of the pink and white frangipani that grew wild on the slopes. Tall orchids raised their velvety lilac heads amongst the grass and hibiscus flowers shone with a translucent brilliance in the hot sunshine.
She found the house without difficulty, a sprawling white bungalow with peeling paintwork and a jumble of rooms obviously added to the original building.
The door bell didn't seem to work. Breathless and hot, she knocked and after a moment felt relieved to hear no sound of footsteps on the other side. At least this would be somewhere where she could get a drink. Even water would be welcome at this moment. She opened the door and went inside, moved down a long hall with doors opening off on either side. At the end she glimpsed painted yellow walls, a sink bench. Robyn went into the room and found herself staring down at a tousle-headed young man who was seated at the worn table, a profusion of textbooks spread out around him.
She couldn't help a smile at sight of his amazed face. The next moment he rose with a grin. A tall thin young man wearing strong glasses and bearing not the slightest resemblance to his mother, if Mrs. Daley was as she supposed his mother.
Robyn was the first to recover. "I'm so sorry, bursting in on you like this —"
He made a movement that sent a towering pile of textbooks spinning to the floor and Robyn bent to help him pick them up. "I did knock, but you couldn't have heard me. I'm Robyn," she stacked a pile of books on the table, "and you must be Kevin."