Pearls of the Past

by Judith Johnson

  Chapter 9

  A group of women sat on the jetty, their legs dangling over the edge of it, fishing lines in their hands. Britt stopped to speak to them, and then Corrie found herself being introduced to each one and being asked if she liked their island.

  After she replied with a polite yes, the woman named Amena asked, “Have you decided to stay, Corrie?”

  Corrie recognized the woman’s lilting voice. “You sold me the sarongs, didn’t you? And yes, I decided to stay some extra days.”

  “She had little option, Amena.” With that Britt raised their linked hands, quite unnecessarily, as if they hadn’t already noticed, making Corrie dig her nails into the back of his hand hard enough to show her disapproval. “And what’s this about sarongs?” he enquired, looking down at her, a chuckle in his voice.

  A burst of islander language erupted, and Amena shushed them. “Get Corrie to show you, Britt.”

  He held her with his gaze. “That could be arranged.”

  “On the Lady B?” was chorused amid giggles and soft whistles as Amena shushed them again.

  Britt began to walk to the furthermost end of the T-shaped jetty, his hand firmly attached to Corrie’s. With the dark, inky water only another step away he stopped to stand perfectly still, the breeze flattening the white shirt to the muscles of his broad chest. “I own Lady B.”

  “I thought you might. But what possessed you to advertise in front of your friends that ridiculous story you concocted? I had already said I decided to stay on a few more days. Your grand gesture of our linked hands wasn’t needed.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “No!”

  “So why didn’t you object earlier?” He had been speaking without looking at her, his gaze on the ketch riding at anchor some distance away. Now his head jerked in her direction to glance down at their joined hands. Corrie found her hand instantly released from the warmth of his.

  “I should be holding you in my arms. Instead, you want to deny me the small privilege of even holding your hand. And like a fool, I let you. I’m fed up to the back teeth of back-peddling, protecting your feelings because you look almost too ethereal to touch. But, Corrie, I too have feelings, and I’m not going to let you deny you are aware of them. Not after tonight. Not after you feed this poor, demented soul a few promising crumbs. In plain English, you, beautiful Corrie, are sending me crazy, and I want to know right here and now—is there the faintest glimmer of hope for me?”

  Enthralled, amazed, humbled, completely astounded, Corrie gasped, her hands coming to clasp her throat. “But I’ve only known you a matter of days and then only a matter of hours.”

  “But I’ve known you since time began,” he said, sincerity ringing in his words.

  “That can’t be.” Her incredulous whisper was barely audible.

  “I don’t understand it, but that’s how it is, how it will always be, and I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life. You stepped out of that car and I knew you. Knew you were meant to fill the void in my life. I had been waiting for you.”

  “Oh, Britt. You can’t say these things to me.”

  “I am saying them, and now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. You have to know.”

  A groan left Corrie as her knees began to sag under her. Never had she been made privileged to such soul-wrenching words.

  “Don’t be frightened. I would never hurt you, not when I have this unbearable ache to cherish you. Believe me, I wish I could have waited, but I’m not being given the time of having you get to know me. I can be the most patient of men, Corrie. Lady B bears witness to that. But we only have a few precious days and then you will be gone, so desperation is making me speak prematurely.”

  Britt seemed to take command of his volatile emotions. He took a step back. His face became closed, and his strong jaw clenched.

  “Vic will kill me.” His words were almost inaudible.

  Corrie too had taken a pull on her rioting emotions of utter amazement, beating down embarrassment as she questioned his last astounding remark. “Victor? What has he got to do with this? Oh, I see! That’s what all those parrying remarks were about at the dinner table. He manipulated this, didn’t he?” she demanded, and when there was no answer, she accused, “And you were the one to tell Matt to act like a man, and yet you and Victor...”

  Corrie wasn’t sure if Britt was breathing; he was so still, as if carved from stone.

  “He knew about this nonsense of yours about knowing me before, didn’t he?” Again she was demanding an answer. “For goodness sake, say something.”

  “Guilty.”

  “You really are the limit!”

  “I know.”

  “And pretending to be humble doesn’t suit you, Mr. Hendricks.”

  “Now that I take exception to—the Mr. Hendricks bit. I asked you to call me Britt, and you agreed. All right, I’ve acted completely irrational and have done so from the first moment I saw you. I was so damned angry because I thought you were Miss R Nelson, the R Nelson Matt had warned us to keep our hands and eyes off. And when we came face-to-face I expected you to recognize me, for you to have the same overwhelming feeling that we had already met. God knows when, but we had. However, you didn’t feel the same, you didn’t understand. It was quite irrational, I know. Instead, you hated me, and I didn’t know how to handle that.”

  “So you became as obnoxious as you possibly could?”

  “And hated myself for it, And Vic being Vic, knowing me as well as he does, read me like a book. So yes, he knows all about my irrational feelings. He’s my best friend, even more than that. The Chinese believe if you save a man’s life you are then responsible for that life. That’s how it is with Vic and me. He saved my life. His disability is his badge of valor.”

  “Oh. I thought he must have...”

  “Lost his arm in a shark or crocodile attack? Or some other fanciful explanation most people presume? No, he lost it saving a seven-year-old boy’s life. He threw himself across me when a wire rope broke loose from a crane loading one of my father’s ships. His Filipino father wasn’t as lucky—he was killed. With no mother, my father took responsibility for him. He was sixteen.”

  Corrie was round-eyed with surprise.

  “I had always been his shadow, looked up to him, so it was the most natural thing in the world to have him live with us, to become my big brother. My father insisted he attend college, then Uni, and he became an accountant. Now you understand why he knows of my feelings?”

  Corrie nodded, incapable of words in the face of such devotion, but a thought niggled. Could now be the time to ask about Matthew and his role in this trio?

  Again, she wondered if he was Britt’s illegitimate son. Looking at Britt—strong, tall, and virile—it wouldn’t be impossible for this to have happened in his early adolescence. Being Victor’s constant companion on this magical island, with its relaxed atmosphere, he naturally would have been made aware much earlier than most of the passions lurking in young men and women.

  “Ohhh.” She was acting like some turn-of-the-century missionary harboring distasteful thoughts like these. She found Britt frowning deeply at her, but still the words came, “Can I ask where Matthew fits into all this? I believe he’s been adopted by you?”

  “Matt is another case of unfortunate circumstances.”

  Corrie’s insides clenched, and cold fear stabbed her heart. She didn’t want to hear what was to come. “I’m sorry! I’ve intruded. I apologize,” she muttered, able to say little else as the words choked her.

  “Apologize for what? Because you’re interested in the grass roots of your cousin’s future husband? That hardly needs an apology, or the stricken look on your face.”

  Corrie quickly turned her back, the breeze lifting the floating material of her skirt high around her thighs. He must have loved the young girl deeply to claim his son above all the trauma it would have created. She wished he hadn’t felt like that about someone else.

  A wa
rm band of steel slipped around her waist, bringing her back against his hard length, and she didn’t resist. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly. “Would you have had me desert a small orphaned boy?” Corrie suddenly found herself spun around in his arms to look up into his glowering face. “Or do I finally have your number?”

  He abruptly released her and stepped back. And after a long moment of surveying her face intently, making Corrie feel like she wanted to crawl under a rock somewhere, he grated, “I don’t believe I could be so wrong. So damn gullible! So taken in by that ethereal air of yours!” His bitter words flayed her. “You don’t think Matt is good enough for your precious cousin! Do you?”

  Corrie was aghast. “How can you accuse me of that? You believe I’m prejudiced against Matt’s obvious island heritage? You know of my Grandma Tammy’s origins, of Rusie’s mother’s Sri Lankan blood. How could you? You introverted snob!”

  “Then just what is occupying your thoughts? I want to know, Miss Nelson.”

  Corrie hesitated, but only for a second. He had made her so angry with his unfounded accusation! Why not let him have both barrels? “You did say Matt was orphaned, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” He paused. “Oh, I see. You thought Matt was Victor’s child? Then tell me why would I adopt him and not his biological father? Orphaned means no parents.”

  “Because I didn’t... I wondered... I...I... You are harassing me! You won’t give me time to think. You’re badgering me.”

  His hands grasped both her arms. “And I’ll keep on badgering you until you tell me exactly what you do think. What did that fertile mind of yours come up with?”

  Corrie could feel her face flaming. She knew that even under this lighting he couldn’t mistake its heat for anything other than what it was—humiliation and guilt.

  “My God,” he hissed. “You thought he was my natural son!”

  “Well, how would I know?” she cried.

  “Exactly...how would you know? But you gladly presumed, didn’t you? That would make me a pretty potent fourteen-year-old, wouldn’t it, Corrie?”

  “I don’t know how old you are.”

  “No. I suppose you don’t. But everything I’ve said to you—about knowing you for always, waiting for you to fill the void in my life—you thought that was all bullshit, didn’t you?” He dragged in a ragged breath, and his hands released her arms.

  “Did you think it was just an attempt to get you into bed? Christ! What type of man do you think I am? In God’s name, whatever made you come here to this island? Ever step into my life!”

  The fury in his voice made Corrie’s insides cringe. “You know why. To visit and experience my Da’s island.”

  “I wish your Da had never set foot on our island. It would have saved a lot of confusion and heartache. The quicker we can get your research over and done with, the better! I have a tin sea-chest in storage on the Lady B. It’s never been opened in my lifetime, as far as I know. This could be the time. It may contain exactly what you’re looking for. But we’ll discover that tomorrow. Right now I intend to go home. After you, Miss Nelson. And please don’t stumble on the way back. If you do, I won’t be picking you up.”

  He stepped aside.

  “Just to satisfy that twisted mind of yours, Matt was sixteen when I adopted him, and he was given the choice if he wanted that to happen or not. I was thirty-one and I decided I should have a legal heir to Arafura Enterprises.”

  Britt’s words cut across her fleeting thoughts. Was he determined to never marry and have children of his own?

  “That was eight years ago. This discussion is closed!”

  Corrie found herself floundering in the aftermath of his revelation. How could she have thought all that nonsense? Have the audacity to question him? Giving him little choice but to confide his personal life? To a stranger!

  Wrapping her arms protectively around herself, she bowed her head with humiliation to begin the homeward walk along the jetty. Even though perspiration sheened her skin from the warm, night air as she determinedly kept pace with his long, harsh strides she began to shiver. She couldn’t continue staying under his roof, accepting his hospitality. Not after this terrible confrontation! She would have to tell him so.

  When they reached the private side entrance, he flung open the door, waiting for her to enter. She hesitated, gathering her courage to tell him what she planned, but her decision was left unheard. His furious hiss clearly told her his patience had worn thin. He strode past her to attack the stairs two at a time.

  She wanted to curl up and disappear!

  * * * *

  Russella erupted into the room. “Aren’t you ready?”

  “No!” Corrie’s words were muffled from under the sheet. Why did she need to face Rusie just now?

  “Why are you grumpy? No one should be allowed to be a sorehead on such a wonderful day. The weather is perfect, and we’re all going for a picnic on Britt’s yacht.” Rusie pulled the sheet from covering her, to order, “So get up! Matt said this is the first time he can remember Britt asking females to be his guests on-board. Do you know when we first met Britt I thought he was an absolute pig? But he’s not. He’s just so protective of Matt, wanting the best for him. He’s so understanding. He’s wonderful!”

  Corrie, having dragged herself up the stairs at some ungodly hour last night—or actually, this morning—wasn’t sure she ever wanted to wake up, let alone be compelled to listen to Rusie’s glowing recommendation of Britt Hendricks. The man her cousin was describing was seen through her personal, satisfied eyes. It certainly wasn’t the man Corrie had encountered last night.

  But it hadn’t been his fault entirely. During the hours she had sat hunched in the cane chair on the porch, pondering everything that had been said, she admitted she had shamelessly intruded, wanting to satisfy her curiosity.

  She had said way too much. She should have never put her thoughts into words that Matt was his son. She would literally die of shame if Matt and Rusie ever found out. Gradually, Russella’s words began to sink in.

  “A picnic?” She was being asked to spend more time with him? She slowly sat up, frowning. “What picnic?”

  He hadn’t mentioned a picnic. All he wanted to do was give her the information he thought might be in the sea-chest aboard that yacht of his, then see her off the island.

  “Britt arranged it. He said you knew about it. I told you he was wonderful.”

  “I thought we were only going to the yacht to have a look at... Oh, never mind. A picnic was never mentioned, and I couldn’t possibly go.”

  “Corrie, don’t be a spoilsport! If you won’t come, we can’t go. Britt said so, and he won’t let Matt take the boat out on his own, and then we miss out on a great day. Please, pretty please?” begged Rusie.

  Corrie wrapped her arms around her drawn-up knees and began to smile at her cousin clasping her hands beseechingly. “Well, just for you. I am so gullible where you’re concerned,” she admonished lightly, hoping she wasn’t going to regret her decision. “While I shower, tell me what your parents said when you rang last night.”

  Corrie got out of bed and quickly gathered what she needed. Stepping into the bathroom, she noticed that everything was immaculate—unused. Quite unlike the trail of destruction Russella usually left behind, and yet she was ready to leave? Before she even asked she knew the answer.

  “Rusie, you haven’t used the bathroom?”

  Her cousin was lying across the bed, looking at the ceiling. “I used Matt’s.” Then, as if realizing what she had confessed, Russella sat up, pink-cheeked, but her gaze was steady, slightly defiant. “I didn’t use it yesterday morning either, but you didn’t notice. And don’t start giving me a lecture, because I won’t listen.” And with that, she was off the bed, slamming the door behind her as she left.

  Immediately, Corrie found herself blaming Britt for this latest fiasco. Encouraging this unlikely romance in the first place, and organizing the purchase of an engagement ring all too quic
kly was bad enough. Her thoughts faltered slightly. But would he know about their sleeping arrangements? After all, he was away the night before last. Oh, don’t be stupid! Wing Lee would be aware, so Britt would know.

  That explanation Matt had alluded to and Britt had given her of no females upstairs had all been lies. This sort of behavior was apparently the accepted thing. Just how many females had the three of them entertained upstairs? My God, exactly what had she led Rusie, and herself for that matter, into with her hare-brained scheme?

  Well, she intended to find out! All the years of protectiveness she had been asked for, and willingly given her cousin, intensified. She would not allow them to make a fool of Rusie! Not while she still drew breath.

  With that thought she hurriedly showered and dressed then went to find Britt Hendricks. He was waiting for her in the living room.

  “You were expecting me,” she said.

  “Well, yes.” He waved his hand nonchalantly in the direction of the far end of the living room where a tropical breakfast was set out. “You do have to eat.”

  “Ohhhh! Do you know you are the most maddening person I have ever met! You know that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Yes, I know.” His air of off-handedness had disappeared. “A picnic wasn’t discussed last night. You want to get this business of acquiring the information over and done with as quickly as possible, and now you’re being asked to delay your departure. Yet again being asked to tolerate my company for longer than you wish.”

  “You seemed to have read my mind, Mr. Hendricks.”

  His beautiful eyes narrowed at the title she had given him, not without a small dose of malice. “Yes, I have. I’ve told you, Corrie, I know you, have always known you.”

  Corrie opened her mouth to deny the absurdity of his claim, but Britt raised his hand.

  “Please. I owe you an apology. A deep, sincere apology. The madman you were with on the wharf last night has had many hours to examine his actions. I now see they could only be construed as nothing less than frightening to someone facing a veritable stranger.” His voice softened slightly. “And I am, aren’t I, Corrie? Little more than a stranger. As much as I’m sure I’ve met you before, you have no such feeling.”