Road to Paradise Island

by Victoria Holt

  I had packed our things and made the arrangements.

  Felicity would not stay in the house alone; nor would she go to the township. When I went in I had to leave her some little way off. She could not bear the condolences which were offered her. She was in a highly nervous state.

  I made the bookings on the coach for a Wednesday which was eleven days after the death of William Granville.

  Felicity was exhausted and for that I was grateful because it meant she slept heavily at night. I used to sit by the window watching her and trying not to imagine all that she must have endured in that room.

  The balcony had been repaired. I went into the room once. It seemed evil to me because I knew something of what had happened there. I shuddered as I looked at the brownish curtains at the french

  windows which opened onto the balcony, the big cupboard, the dressing table and the two chairs. My eyes came to rest on the bed and I shivered again.

  I stepped out onto the balcony and looked down. The new staves shone brightly among the old ones.

  How had it happened? I wondered. Perhaps Felicity would tell me one day.

  I should never ask her.

  There was a menace in this place and it was centred in this room. This was where Felicity had suffered her ultimate humiliation.

  I felt myself turn cold. There was a tingling sensation in my scalp. Was this what was called one's hair standing on end?

  I was not alone.

  I swung round, clutching the balcony just as he may have done. I fully expected to see him standing there with that lustful grin on his face.

  I was looking into the enigmatic eyes of Mrs. Maken.

  "Oh," she said, "taking a last look at the place?"

  I replied: "The balcony looks firm now." My voice sounded high-pitched and unnatural.

  "It was a terrible thing to happen," she said. "Those bushrangers have a lot to answer for."

  I nodded.

  "It will make changes round here."

  "I daresay. What plans have you, Mrs. Maken?"

  "I'm to stay till it's all cleared up. The solicitors have asked me to. There's got to be someone here... and as things are with Mrs. Granville..."

  "It seems an excellent arrangement. I was thinking of after that."

  "I've had an offer from a very nice gentleman in Sydney. Housekeeper and all that."

  She was smiling at me complacently.

  "I'm glad," I said.

  "And you'll go off. Well, it's the best thing for Mrs. Granville. She never took to our ways out here."

  She was looking round the room reminiscently, but I could see she was already making plans for her life at the establishment of the nice gentleman in Sydney.

  "They'll catch those men," she said. "There's an outcry about it. This makes them more determined than ever. Just think, if Mr. Granville hadn't heard them prowling about he'd be here now. Well, you'll soon be off. You were going on that Monday ... well, then you

  had to stay for a bit when all this happened. But if it hadn't been for those men..."

  I said: "Yes, indeed." I had come back into the room from the balcony and I had to walk past her to get to the door. I kept seeing images of her in that room with Felicity and William Granville.

  She looked at me sardonically and I wondered if she read my thoughts.

  She was an uncomfortable woman. But on Wednesday we should be on our way.

  Our last night. Felicity lay in bed, but she was not asleep.

  I sat on a chair watching her. The bed was not really big enough for two and I usually lay on the edge so as not to disturb her.

  She had always been fast asleep by the time I retired. I think she was really worn out with fear and emotion. Sometimes I would sit at the window until past midnight looking out and thinking over the time I had spent here. Since the death of William Granville a touch of unreality had crept into everything. When I finally left here I hoped it would become vague in my memory—a nightmare, grotesque, terrifying while it lasted but which faded from memory in daylight and the return to normal life.

  That was what I hoped at least.

  Felicity's trunks had already gone to Sydney where they would be stored at the docks until her departure for England. My baggage and Felicity's lighter possessions had already gone to the township to be put into the coach when it arrived. All that was left for us to take was one capacious piece of hand luggage each.

  I went to the window and sat there. I had no inclination for sleep. I should make up for that when I had left this place.

  Felicity spoke to me then. "Why are you sitting at the window, Annalice?"

  "I don't feel sleepy. Our last night, Felicity. I feel so relieved that we are going together."

  "Oh, Annalice, it was dreadful when you were going without me."

  "I know. I had to do it though."

  "I understand that."

  There was silence for a while, then she said: "It's all over. I can't believe it."

  "There is only tomorrow morning. We will leave in good time for the coach."

  "And then we shall say goodbye to this place forever."

  "Forever. We shall put it right out of our minds."

  "Do you think we shall ever be able to do that."

  <

  "I'm going to have a jolly good try."

  "It's easy for you."

  "In time it will be for you."

  "I shall never forget, Annalice."

  "I suppose the memories will come back. But they will get fainter ... more remote..."

  "I don't think they ever will ... not of that night."

  "Well, for a time of course ... But when you are away from this place, it'll fade. It will, I promise you."

  "Not that night. It is there forever... stamped on my mind. I shall never forget that."

  I was silent and she went on: "It wasn't as they said, Annalice."

  "No," I replied.

  "It wasn't the truth. I have to tell someone. I can't keep it to myself."

  "If you have to tell someone it had better be me."

  "That night... he came up ... he was laughing to himself. He had drunk a lot of whisky but he was not drunk ... not like he was later. He went out ... I thought he was going to Mrs. Maken. He did, you know, often."

  "Yes, I know."

  "He was always saying how much better she was than I was... things I can't talk about."

  "Then don't."

  "I've got to tell you. I think once I have told you I may be able to stop thinking about it... at least not so much."

  "Tell me then."

  "He was away a long time. I thought he would stay the night. He usually did. I liked that. It was wonderful when he was away. I was grateful to Mrs. Maken for being so much better... at that sort of thing... than I was."

  "Oh, Felicity," I cried, "I don't care what brought you out of this... but I'm glad it happened."

  "I'm glad, too. It's wicked, but I'm glad he's dead."

  "The world is a better place without him and his kind. Let's rejoice he is no longer in it."

  She shivered and sat up suddenly, her eyes coming to rest on the door.

  I said: "He can't come in. He's dead. You're not afraid of his ghost, are you?"

  "I would be in this place. I think one of the eucalyptus trees will turn grey and he'll be in it."

  "I wouldn't worry about that. You'll be far away. In time you'll forget this place ever existed."

  "Home," she said. "It's like a different world."

  "It won't be long now. You could get on a ship and be home very soon. I shall not go yet. I have things to do."

  "I know. And I stopped you, didn't I? I want to stay with you, Annalice."

  "All right then. We'll be together. It will be exciting. We shall go to Cariba."

  "Yes... yes ... as long as I am with you. And in time we'll go home together."

  She was lying down now, smiling.

  Then she said: "But I have to tell you about that night."

 
; "Go on then ... tell me."

  "I shan't rest until I have told you. I want you to tell me that I am not wicked."

  "Of course you are not wicked. Whatever happened, he deserved it."

  "Well, he came back into the room. I was sleeping. I was so tired, Annalice. I was always tired. Those fearful nights ..."

  "Don't think of them. Just tell me."

  "He came back. It was a long time after ... It must have been more than an hour. He was very drunk. He looked awful. He shouted: 'Wake up. I suppose I'll have to make do with you.' Yes... that's what he said. It flashed into my mind that he might have quarrelled with Mrs. Maken. Then something seemed to snap in me. I couldn't endure any more. I pushed him away. It was only because he was so drunk that I was able to do it. I jumped out of bed and picked up the pistol, the one we were supposed to carry round with us. I said, 'If you touch me I will shoot myself.'"

  "Oh no, Felicity!"

  "Yes... yes ... He laughed at me. I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I would have killed myself. I could not stand any more of him. It was too degrading, too humiliating. It was everything that I hated. I hated him and that made me hate myself. I felt unclean ... unworthy to live. He came after me and I ran onto the balcony. He caught me. He was trying to get the gun away from me. He was laughing. He was very drunk. Then suddenly ... I may have pushed him. I don't know. I can't remember clearly. The balcony gave way ... the gun went off... it spun out of our hands and fell clattering below... and there he was lying beside it... with blood all over him. I screamed... and that was when you came in."

  "I see," I said.

  "Do you? I think I may have fired the shot that killed him."

  "It was a struggle, the gun went off. Stop thinking about it. It's over. Whatever happened wasn't your fault."

  "Oh, it wasn't, was it?"

  "No, no. You must remember that."

  "I will. I feel so much better now I've told. Perhaps I should have told those men, but how could I without explaining things that I didn't want to talk about?"

  "It was better as it was. He's gone. That's the end of it. You're free, Felicity, gloriously free. That's what you have to think about."

  "Thank you, Annalice. I'm so glad you're here."

  "Well, we shall be together... and in time we'll go home."

  "That would be wonderful. Home. I wish I had never left it."

  "You'll love it all the more when you get back. Just think; tomorrow we shall walk out of this place and leave it all behind us forever."

  "It's wonderful. I shall think of that. I shall try to forget. Talking did help."

  She was silent and after a while she slept.

  I did not go to bed. I sat in the chair and dozed. I saw the dawn come into the sky, the glorious dawn of the day of departure.

  The next day we were jolting across the roads to Sydney, and with every passing minute my spirits lifted. The nightmare is over, I thought. Now we can go on from here.

  We arrived in the evening and I was relieved to find they had a room at the Crown. We both had a good meal and a good night's sleep; and in the morning we were greatly refreshed.

  My first task was to call at the Botanical Association. I left Felicity in the hotel while I set out.

  There was good news. David Gutheridge had returned from the expedition and was at this time in Sydney.

  They had informed him of my previous visit and he had asked them to give me his address if I called again. This was great progress and I was delighted.

  He was staying at a small hotel not far from the Crown and I went there immediately. Another stroke of good luck awaited me. He was in.

  He received me warmly. I had met him when he and Philip were making their preparations, so we were not entirely strangers.

  He took me into a small room and we settled down to talk.

  I said: "We have had no news of Philip ... for a very long time."

  "It is strange," he said. "I heard nothing of him. I did make enquiries at the time and no one could tell me anything."

  "Where did you make enquiries?"

  "It was at a hotel on one of the islands ... the biggest of the group. Cariba actually."

  "Oh yes ... I did hear he was there."

  "Apparently he made it his headquarters for a while."

  "Yes?" I said eagerly.

  "He was determined to find some island, wasn't he? I remember he had a map and the mysterious thing was that the island did not appear where it should have been ... according to the map. It wasn't on any other map either. But Philip was certain this island existed somewhere... and he was going to find it."

  "What was the last you heard of him?"

  "It was in Cariba actually. There is a sugar plantation on it... and on one of the others too, I believe. Yes, he was there when I heard the last of him. They said he left suddenly."

  "Left the hotel, you mean?"

  "Yes ... the hotel. That's all I can tell you. He was staying there. It was his headquarters for a while because he was sure the island was in that vicinity. Apparentiy he just left... and no one heard of him after that."

  "I see."

  He looked at me ruefully. "I'm afraid I'm not much help. It is all I can tell you though. It is a long time now, isn't it?"

  "It is more than two years."

  "All that time since he disappeared!"

  "Yes. He did write once... and that was all we heard. I decided I just had to come out here and find out."

  "And you are not getting very far."

  "No. The only thing I have discovered is that he had been to Cariba. A man whom I met coming over told me that."

  "I was a little while in Cariba. It's practically owned by the man who has the sugar plantation. He's a sort of big white chief."

  "That would be the man I met. Milton Harrington."

  "That's the man."

  "He was quite helpful to me and to the ladies I was travelling with."

  "Cariba would appear to be the last place he was seen."

  "And you have no idea where he might have gone from there?"

  "I'm afraid I haven't. Unless he went off in a boat somewhere. Squalls blow up pretty fast in this part of the world and small boats... well, they don't have much chance."

  "It seems strange—if that were the case—that he told no one he was going."

  "He may have done so."

  "I thought someone at the hotel might be able to throw some light on his disappearance."

  "That might be so. If I hear anything, Miss Mallory, I'll contact you. You're going to Cariba, are you? You'll be at the hotel. It's the only one actually. If I should hear of anything ... or something occurs to me, I'll write to you."

  "That is kind of you."

  He looked at me quizzically. "You've got a hard task ahead of you, I'm afraid."

  "I'm prepared for that. But I am determined to find out what has happened to my brother."

  "Best of luck," he said warmly.

  He clasped my hand, and said he would escort me back to the Crown, which he did.

  On the following Wednesday, Felicity and I left for Cariba.

  THE ISLAND OF CARIBA

  It was early on the Thursday morning when we came into Cariba.

  Felicity and I had been sitting on deck dozing through the night. I felt more at peace than I had since what I called the nightmare had begun. The sea was smooth; now and then I saw a phosphorescent gleam on the waters—weirdly beautiful; the Southern Cross above, with its myriads of companion stars, reminded me how far from home we were—but we were going to Cariba, and there I hoped I should discover some news of Philip and ... I should see Milton Harrington.

  Life had become full of adventure—sometimes terrifying—but I believed that nothing which lay in store for me could be more fearful than that horrific experience through which I had just passed.

  I looked at Felicity; her eyes were closed. There was a change in her since she had confessed to me what had really happened on that night. It was as t
hough she felt she had shifted her burden a little. Poor Felicity! What she had suffered was beyond endurance. I could only be thankful that it was at an end—by whatever means we had reached that end.

  And now before us... Cariba and Milton Harrington.

  The sun rose as suddenly as it set and the water lost its mysterious darkness and was opalescent in the morning light.

  And then I saw the islands. There was a group of them. I made out four... and yes, another one some distance away, separated from the others. It is an exciting moment when one catches sight of land and I could well imagine the exhilaration which those early explorers must have experienced when they sailed the uncharted seas.

  As we drew nearer I awakened Felicity.

  "Look, Felicity. We are nearly there."

  We stood together leaning over the rail. I turned to look at her. She was smiling. I put my hand over hers. "You look so much better," I said.

  "I feel more at peace. I didn't dream at all as I sat there dozing. It was... well, peace."

  "That is how it is going to be from now on."

  "Thank you," she said. Til never forget all you have done for me.

  I was thoughtful for a moment, thinking: But for me it would never have happened. You would have married Raymond if I hadnt come along. And that episode would never have taken place.

  What a difference that would have made to Felicity! I could see her married to Raymond, becoming a good wife and mother, living uneventfully, never dreaming that there could be men in the world like William Granville.

  For the first time it occurred to me how suited they were—she and Raymond, and how but for me they would have drifted into marriage. Raymond would make the perfect husband ... to any woman he married.

  It was strange that I who had contemplated marrying him myself— and had made excuses for delaying fulfilment—should be thinking of his marrying someone else.

  But here was Cariba. A new adventure was beginning and I promised myself that this was going to be wonderful. I should achieve what I had come out for.