Hidden Rapture

by Lane, Roumelia

  Of course there was no tangible rift between them. On the face of it nothing had changed. Trent was his usual suave self in front of Robert. He made jokes at the table and beside the pool. Only Vivienne could feel the steely detachment in him where she was concerned. As it happened she had other things to occupy her mind.

  Robert was becoming increasingly dependent on her company throughout the day. They spent long sessions together in the garden grounds of Koudia. Wheelchair-ridden as he was, he had grown close to and developed a deep love for nature, noticing things around him that he had never known existed in his hectic days as a rugby player.

  And from this love had stemmed an avid interest in the poets who had set nature to music in their words.

  Vivienne had always known this from his letters and the endless quotations he had penned to Lucy and sometimes she would feel desperately inadequate when trying to supply some rapport to his moods. Sitting beside his chair on the mosaic-tiled seat one day, he said dreamily to her as he gazed at the sea and the lowlying hills across the bay, ‘You know, it’s funny, but I’ve never been on an island. I’ve seen the sea—quite a lot of different ones, in fact—but I’ve never known what it’s like to have it all around me.’

  ‘England’s an island,’ Vivienne quipped. And then thoughtfully, ‘But I know what you mean. I went to the Isle of Man once. If anything I’d say it gives one a feeling of loneliness.’

  ‘You could be right,’ Robert nodded, still smiling absently into the distance.

  Vivienne was thinking privately of the tragedy of it. Only twenty-four. And he would never see an island now. She eyed his fine straw-blond head, thick brown neck and powerful shoulders and wept a little inwardly as she often did at this sad waste of young manhood.

  Then he startled her by reciting, as though his mind was still out there somewhere afar, ‘ Willows whiten, aspens quiver, little breezes dusk and shiver Through the wave that runs forever By the island in the river …’

  Lucy would have known how to reply. A plain girl, but gentle and sincere, she too had this affinity with nature and love of the poets.

  Didn’t most of her letters to Robert contain, with shy simplicity, the answering half to one of his penned quotations? But because she, Vivienne, was at a loss in this wonderland of prose she said laughingly, ‘What’s that? It sounds eerie.’

  Robert came back from the distance as though the mood had been lost. She sensed that he felt let down at her lack of response, although he explained cheerfully enough, ‘It’s the island of Shalott. I suppose it is eerie in a way. The lady of Shalott was cursed, but she saw her knight, so she found a boat and left the island anyway.’ He said dramatically, ‘She loosed the chain and down she lay. The. broad stream bore her far away …’

  ‘Good! So she was no longer lonely.’ Vivienne stood up. Out of her depth as she was, she couldn’t wait to change the subject.

  ‘More so than ever,’ Robert grinned. ‘She floated after her knight— till her blood was frozen slowly and her eyes were darkened wholly -‘ He gripped Vivienne’s hands suddenly and eagerly and murmured, ‘But your blood’s not frozen. You’re warm and lovely. Kiss me, Viv …’ He pulled her against him until she could feel the hard, muscular force of his body. His mouth searched hungrily for hers and she gave it as she always did over the knot of distaste inside her for this trickery she was involved in. And it wasn’t just that. In his arms as she often was these days she sensed an urgency in him, a need which frightened her because she had no idea how to deal with it.

  When they returned to the poolside after these rather turbulent outings Trent would barely glance up from the table where he was working. He always appeared to be busy checking over the casino figures and wore a shut-down look of concentration. Despite his reserve where she was concerned Vivienne felt more at ease beside the pool. Robert’s amorous advances were proving more and more difficult to cope with, and whereas she would at one time have baulked at Trent’s company she found in it now a scant kind of comfort.

  Besides, Robert loved the water, and swimming and splashing about he was less inclined to mischief. To offset any kind of disappointment he might feel in her behaviour when they were alone she went all out to make it up to him during their play sessions at the pool. Perhaps she took her enthusiasm a little too far, but the afternoon when she decided to present a rather more glamorous picture she was thinking only of pleasing Robert.

  Instead of donning her swimsuit as she always did she searched out the bikini that Lucy had packed with it. It was of amber silk, and when she walked before the mirror in it she thought it gave her a girlish elegance. Her legs were long enough not to have to worry about wearing flat beach mules, and throwing a towelling robe over her arm she went downstairs. It didn’t take her long to discover that her outfit was a success. Robert let out a long wolf whistle when he saw her. She had to walk down the length of the pool to his delighted whoops and cat-calls. But she pretended nonchalance and on her arrival she looked down at her body and lamented laughingly, ‘The suit’s all right, but what about the pale patches? I’ll have to start sunbathing all over again.’

  ‘That’s not a bad idea,’ Robert said with an artful grin. ‘Pass me the lotion and I’ll see that you’re well covered.’

  Vivienne had let herself in for that one, and as there was no way round it she gaily agreed. Standing there with Robert smoothing the liquid over her torso she didn’t look Trent’s way. As she had walked down the length of the pool she had tried not to think of him. She was only interested in playing a convincing part for Robert. He lingered over the job of basting her and while she lay in the hot sun he tickled her back with a palm frond unmercifully so that in the end she had to consent to joining him in the pool.

  He no longer worried about her seeing Haroun carry him to the water. This was perhaps because the big Moor had the sense to make a game of it. Indeed, athletic and beaming with energy, he was quick to join in the fun around the pool and the three of them had long ago become a team. .Vivienne and Robert had picked up enough Arabic to communicate with their bronzed oversized playmate and this afternoon the gardens echoed with their shouts as they teased him with his own expressions. ‘Wakhkha!’ Robert snorted, going like a steamboat and then coming up for air.

  ‘Walu!’ Vivienne sank theatrically beneath one of the floating armchairs.

  Padding round the edge of the pool, stripped to the waist and prepared if necessary to scoop up his young charge with one hand, Haroun retaliated by rolling back on his heels and laughing jeeringly, ‘El hamdu l-llah!’ Oho! He begins to get the hang of it! Or swelling up his powerful chest and biceps and strutting like an amiable King Kong, ‘Ma shufti shay!’ Just wait—you haven’t seen a thing yet!

  Vivienne was weak with laughter. It was funny to see the big Moor in his cream cricket trousers and floppy turban ballet-dancing around the edge of the pool. When they were all worn out he brought drinks to the waterside. Vivienne stretched out on a floating lilo with hers.

  She wanted to tan her torso to the pale gold of the rest of her body and she spread herself luxuriating in the warmth of the sun.

  Robert tired easier these days and she wasn’t surprised when he told her a little later that he was going up to his room. In his wheelchair he lifted his face for her kiss and she watched him go, glad that they had had a wonderful afternoon together. There was a long gap between now and dinner, and as she often did at this hour she slipped on her robe and went for a stroll beyond the high hedge. It was her way of escaping for a little while from the crushing responsibilities thrust upon her. But this afternoon she wasn’t to have even that respite.

  Trent had walked back to the house alongside Robert, saying his goodnights and checking as he always did with Haroun that his brother’s meals and comforts were all taken care of. Vivienne was a little startled therefore when only a moment or two later he reappeared and followed her through the gap in the hedge. His features were grim and something told her that the occasion was
hardly a social one, although he strolled with her for a while, pointing out the more exotic of the flowers and shrubs fast approaching the full bloom of summer.

  The afternoon was still hot. Trent wore cotton drill slacks and a tailored sports shirt ‘of strong brown mottled tints which gave him an outdoor, virile look. They stopped in the shade of a palm where a triangular view of the orchards showed the myriad lines of young trees hung with the green baubles of growing fruit and feather-fine leaves. He spoke then, a little laconically, his gaze on the view. ‘You were saying you’d been to Tangier before. I suppose you got to know your way around on the beaches that summer?’

  Though she was already attuned to his churlish mood there was something in his tones that irked her. She replied shortly, ‘I was quite a sun-worshipper,-if that’s what you mean. Is there something wrong in that?’

  ‘Not when you go around decently dressed.’ He turned then and flicked a glance down the open front of her beach robe. ‘But maybe you find the habit of wearing little more than a couple of stitches hard to break?’

  So that was it! Quivering yet hardly knowing why, she spoke up. ‘If the bikini annoys you why not come out with it and say so? I thought the idea was to keep Robert happy?’

  Trent said with clamped jaw, ‘You don’t have to hand it to him on a plate.’

  To Vivienne it seemed that the flush started somewhere near her smooth midriff and rose slowly, painfully and heatedly. Hardly caring now about her open robe, she flung at him, ‘You like to cheapen everything I do, don’t you? It doesn’t matter to you that I’ve used nothing but a one-piece bathing suit until today. I made the change for Robert’s sake, but it seems I can’t win. Not long ago you were throwing him at me—physically. Now you’re telling me I shouldn’t wear a perfectly adequate bikini.’

  ‘Adequate! That’s a matter of opinion.’ With a distorted smile his eyes raked her smooth brown flesh, then swung away. ‘And it’s hot just Rob,’ he said abruptly. ‘In the privacy of one’s own family this kind of thing is accepted. But there’s Haroun to consider. How do you think he feels with you sporting yourself like a water nymph under his nose?’

  ‘Haroun?’ Vivienne stared. The big easy-going Moor took no more notice of her than if she had been a fish swimming about. She said with a half-laugh, ‘Haroun isn’t interested in the insipid white flesh of the West. I’d have to be a fat, shrouded figure in a haik before he’d even look at me.’

  ‘They’re all interested,’ Trent said with a sneer. ‘Don’t let the veneer of indifference fool you. I’m a man, I should know.’

  ‘Are you?’ She gave him a look. ‘I thought the only figures you were interested in were those to do with your profits at the casino?’ She didn’t know what had got into her, making such a remark, but it gave her a warm, animallike satisfaction to see that it had gone home.

  Trent’s face inclined to paleness just now, showed a dark suffusion of colour. His blue gaze, though resembling ice, glinted dangerously and as he looked her over he said lazily, ‘That shows how little you know me, Vivienne. For your own good I suggest you take yourself off to your room and get into a little more clothing.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m going.’ Angrily she belted up her robe. ‘I’ve already got the message that I’m supposed to be some kind of Jezebel just because I chose to wear a different swimsuit. Well, I’ve got news for you.’ She turned back with a parting shot. ‘I’ll wear my one-piece now till it drops in shreds—and it’s well on the way.’

  ‘I’ll order a dozen more,’ Trent snapped. ‘That way there’ll be no burst blood vessels.’

  ‘Money is your answer to everything, isn’t it?’ she flung at him, moving off.

  ‘Can you think of anything better?’ he threw back.

  ‘Give me time and I will.’ Shakily she left him and hurried towards the house. By the time she had reached her room her heart was thudding and there was the bright glisten of tears in her eyes. She flung herself on the bed and sighed shudderingly. Why did they take so much out of her, these tiffs with Trent?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  DINNER was a strain that evening. Vivienne wished she had had the nerve to stay in her room. But that would have been bowing down to Trent’s autocracy. Besides, she derived a certain masochistic pleasure in sharing his company for an hour. It was a kind of self-torture that she had never yet been willing to forgo.

  She wondered sometimes if they were both taut and edgy with one another because of Robert. Though she hadn’t wanted to admit it, even to herself, she had. noticed his increasing pallor and flagging energy these past days. For some time now his complexion had been turning a putty colour, and his young face was developing a sunken look. Terror seized her whenever she thought of this insidious change in his appearance, and often she asked herself, was Trent watching and waiting too.

  It was the day after his brother’s weekly visit to the hospital that it happened, the moment she had dreaded. All the previous day while Robert was out she had kept to herself in the grounds. Trent had done likewise in the house. They had met only for meals when most of the chat was taken care of by Momeen, who always prattled away in French regardless of the atmosphere. There was none of the comparative gaiety of the week before when they had visited the market place and driven to Tetuan. Trent didn’t come neat the pool.

  Vivienne wandered round the ruined minzah beyond the mimosa thicket.

  It was almost a relief to have Robert back the next day. Soon after breakfast he was eager to take their walk. Vivienne pushed his chair along the paths until they had the Casbah rooftops and the sweep of blue bay below them. The view always brought a look of extreme peace to his face. She sat beside him and they talked companionably, mainly hazarding guesses at the destinations of the ships in the harbour. But Robert obviously had other things on his mind. He took her hand at one point and said in those urgent tones, ‘Viv, if only you and I could be like other couples. We could travel, see the world together. Book a double bunk in one of those tubs down there.’

  Deliberately misinterpreting his grin, she said brightly, ‘Well, for the moment we’re not doing so badly. Here we are with a scintillating view …’

  ‘You know what I mean, Viv.’ Robert wasn’t to be sidetracked. There was hunger mingling with the humour in his gaze as he pulled her towards him. ‘I want you close to me. I want to feel you in my arms … If only I wasn’t chained to this damned chair!’ As he strained towards her she was inwardly horrified to see him almost make it on to the seat beside her. Then while she was wondering only how best not to hurt him, he gave a gasp and slumped forward.

  It was fully a minute after she had watched him roll out of the chair and sprawl awkwardly on the path before her shocked senses recovered sufficiently for her to move. Then she ran, a strangled scream escaping from her throat. She didn’t know that she was screaming for Trent. All she remembered was running … running along the paths towards the house. She collided with him as he came from the direction of the pool, through the opening in the hedge.

  There was no time to avoid his arms. He caught her to him and shakily, her face wet with tears, she blurted out what had happened.

  He turned an ashen colour when he heard, though his hold on her was steadying. Abdul, who was never far from his side, stepped forward.

  ‘Take Miss Blyth to her room and get her a drink,’ Trent said crisply.

  He gripped her for a moment encouragingly, then sprinted away through the grounds.

  It was the longest morning Vivienne had ever lived through. White-faced, she watched the arrival of the doctors on the drive below, from the balcony outside her room. It seemed an eternity before they departed again. She paced the carpet until she thought she would collapse from nervous tension and anxiety. At last, unable to bear another moment not knowing, she had flung open the door and was about to go in search of news when Trent appeared.

  Her terrified gaze searched his face. Amidst the weariness there she saw the glimmerings of a grin. He answe
red her unspoken question in a breath, ‘He’s okay.’

  Vivienne slumped with relief. Trent led her to a tapestry-covered ottoman in the carpeted corridor and went on, ‘It was a temporary collapse. In a few days he’ll be back in his wheelchair. He’ll need taking care of for a while -

  ‘Let me do it,’ Vivienne put in swiftly. ‘Haroun’s all right, but Robert will want someone of his own kind with him if he’s got to stick in bed all the time.’

  ‘If you feel up to it,’ Trent said with a nod. ‘He’s been asking for you.’

  He got up. ‘After lunch I’ll take you up to his rooms.’

  The afternoon sunlight was filtering under the shady archways fronting the house when he guided her down the long hall and into the left wing of the villa. A lift had been installed to accommodate Robert’s wheelchair and they went up in this to the top suite. The rooms, Vivienne saw, were ideal for an invalid. Every window commanded a view of rolling countryside, city or sea, and the breeze wafting in was scented with the nearby cedars and pines.

  Robert was sitting up in bed, in his bedroom, a manly clutter of books, models and gadgets around him. Supported by pillows and still alarmingly pale, he grinned weakly when he saw Vivienne. ‘Hi!

  How was that for a fade-out? I hope I didn’t scare you.’

  ‘You did a little, but it doesn’t matter. The main thing is, you’re all right.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter! I’m as annoyed as hell.’ He quirked a look at her and murmured with sly humour, ‘Trust me to pass out just when we were getting to the interesting bit!’

  Very much aware of Trent in the room, Vivienne said with pink cheeks, briskly straightening the bed, ‘Well, that kind of mischief’s finished with for the time being. Now you’re-going to have to put up with me dishing out your medicine and serving up your food, and it’s no good pleading no appetite with me.’