She sighed and went back to the living-room, saw despairingly that as he stood there looking out across his garden at the rubber trees he was Pete of the river, smiling, cynical and enigmatic. To her relief the Harmsens arrived just then, in a worn jeep. Pete looked slick and lazy as he greeted them.
“Hi, there. Come along in. Astrid, Jan, this is Teresa. Our friends from Sweden, little one.”
Terry had never, for her own peace of mind, visualized Astrid Harmsen; there was therefore only a small element of surprise in their meeting. Perhaps, vaguely, Terry had expected someone cool and beautiful with hidden fires, but that was all. Astrid was cool and beautiful, but the fires weren’t hidden; small bright ones flashed from the green eyes, and her get-up was as provocative as she could make it, in this place.
The ash-blonde hair was straight and silky, drawn back into a careless knot. She wore a black sleeveless blouse and white jeans with coolie sandals, and each ear-lobe was embellished with a tiny gold lantern that swung from hair-thin links. Her mouth, to a woman, was unattractive; a long curve, the lower lip over-full and defiantly blood-red. To a man, though, those lips might be her most ravishing feature. Terry was no judge. She guessed the Swedish girl to be about twenty-five, a couple of years younger than her brother.
Astrid’s voice proved to be half repellant, half pleasing; slightly cracked with a metallic undertone. There was no doubt about the attractiveness of her alien accent.
“Oh, hallo, Miss Fremont. I have heard from Pete about you, and it was I who said we must meet. He seemed to think we might not care for each other, but I believe him wrong. You look very English and reserved, but then he is English also, and I have managed to slip under his skin. Isn’t that what you say?”
“You may say it, but it’s not strictly true,” Pete commented. “When you’re right under my skin I’ll admit it to the world. Well, Jan, how goes it?”
Jan Harmsen had the sculptured features of his sister, but he was darker, his hair treacle-colored; his fair skin tanned. He had brooding hazel eyes, but a rather good smile, though Terry felt he didn’t use it much. He looked grave and solid.
“Everything is fine,” he told Pete. “We have been promised the payment from your company on the first of next month and already Astrid is spending her share. She has bought a car from your assistant who goes on leave.
“I wanted a new one,” lamented Astrid, “but here in Penghu it is impossible. So I shall drive to the coast some time and change the one I have. Meanwhile I am free at last to move about. Jan may keep his old Jeep.”
“You don’t need a car in Penghu,” said Pete. “Where will you drive?”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “I shall come to see you! And I shall go out and see Mr. Masters at his plantation and make you jealous.”
“You stay away from Masters,” Pete commanded. “He’s halfway round the bend.”
She sparkled at him. “How I love that tone! You know, Pete darling, to me heaven is a place where I get my own way and am continually ordered about by you.” She turned suddenly to Terry. “All my life I shall envy you those days on the river with Pete, and I shall wonder whether two sets of English restraint cancel each other out! The way Pete tells it, the whole thing was just a bore.”
“That’s the way Teresa tells it, too,” he remarked. “Are you ready for tea?”
Perhaps it was Pete’s idea that Terry should not be called upon to talk very much during the following hour or so. He saw to it that she was not left out of things, but often answered questions put to her by Astrid.
Casually, he said later, “By the way, Astrid, I missed my cigarette lighter after you’d gone yesterday. Know anything about it?”
Green eyes can seldom look entirely innocent, but Astrid did her best with them. “It matches the box you gave me, so I borrowed it. Let me buy it from you, Pete.”
“I never sell anything to a woman. I’ve been too easy with you. I want it back.”
She took the thing from the pocket of her jeans. “Here you are, you old brute. Why is it that you can buy a lighter that looks like a mosque, when no one else can? I love these things, and you should always get an extra one for me. I really want them.”
“You’ve plenty of time to complete your collection of curios.” He tossed the lighter in one hand. “Why do you lift things from me? You don’t do it anywhere else.”
The fair girl, lying back in her chair with her legs crossed, looked up at him as he leaned near the door, and threw out her hands frankly. “It is your things I like to have near me. I cannot be more honest than that.”
Terry watched him, saw a small smile on his lips as he answered, “Don’t stop being honest, Astrid. I like it. Here, take the lighter.” He dropped it into her lap. “What else have you taken a fancy to lately?”
Her white teeth gleamed, her eyes laughed secretly. “Just one thing. I have had it several days, and am wondering when you will discover the loss. Do you know what I think, Pete? I think you actually bought it for me but are waiting for Jan to leave Penghu before you give it to me. If you do not find out what it is, I will tell you after he has gone.”
Pete’s response was casual. “If I haven’t missed it it can’t be important. Promise never to appropriate any more trifles and you can have it, whatever it is.”
Astrid laughed delightedly. “You do know what it is, then! Thank you, darling. I promise!”
Her brother, unsmiling during this exchange, seemed to feel some explanation was due to Terry.
“My sister has acquired a ridiculous love of Far Eastern trinkets. I tell her that most of them are mass-produced and can be had for almost nothing in Singapore, but she does not believe.”
“I rather like curios myself,” Terry said, “though I shan’t have room in my luggage to carry many home with me. Still, it won’t be difficult to remember Penghu.”
Astrid got up with swift grace, the tiny gold lanterns swinging merrily to match the enchanting smile she gave Pete.
“Jan and I must go now. Shall we see you this evening?”
“Maybe. All four of us might make a date for one day soon.”
She brought up a long, pink-tipped finger and touched him under the chin. “It would be enchanting. I will live for it.” And then, in a drawl which was meant to imitate Pete himself, “So long, Pete, my friend. See you later.”
The four went down to the jeep. Before Jan could get behind the wheel his sister had leapt into the seat and was all set to drive. She started the engine and at once there was no other sound than its rocketing roar. She laughed and let in the clutch, dug into her pocket and brought out her left hand, fingers spread, a ring on the third finger. Two thin snakes entwined to form a thinnish gold band. She flashed with laughter and set the jeep on its way.
For perhaps a minute after the vehicle had vanished, Pete stood there, staring after it, his jaw tight, his hands clenched. Terry, sickened to the depths, had backed a couple of paces and was trying to breathe through the salt dryness in her throat. Her ring ... given lightly to Astrid. He had not even missed it from wherever he had hidden it. She could not think beyond those facts.
They did not go back into the house. Pete brought his car to the foot of the steps and she got in. They started and finished the eight miles to the town in silence; at the Winchesters’ he got round the car in time to open the door for her, but she shrank from his touch and ran up into the veranda. He was there first, barring the door.
Roughly he said, “You should have kept the ring as a memento, as I asked. She thought it was good fun to show it like that. You can’t blame Astrid.”
“I’m not blaming anyone. I just didn’t enjoy it, that’s all.”
“You didn’t want the thing. Why should you care?”
Her chin went firm; her blue eyes, hurt for too long, brightened with anger. “I care for the same reason that you care. Your Swedish woman doesn’t know it yet, but when she stole that ring from the secret place where you kept it, part of our secret sl
ipped away. It was the last thing you wanted, wasn’t it—to have her contaminated by something which belongs to those days on the river! Well, she’s got it now. Some time you may even have to explain it away—unless you’re so hard all through that you can carry it off with a shrug, and go through the rest of your life seeing that ring on her finger whenever she has the whim to wear it. I hope it will haunt you!”
“It won’t,” he said coolly. “Do you want it back?”
“I never want to see it again!”
“Right. That’ll save me some trouble,” he said tightly. “What are we getting heated about?”
Her head lifted and she stared into dark eyes which had gone icy. “I’ve been wilting under all this—but never again. I find that going to your house and meeting those people has done something rather exhilarating for me. I don’t mind about things so much. We were in an unfortunate position, but Mr. Bretherton is taking care of it. As far as I’m concerned, we’re free already. I’m going to Singapore, and I intend to have a heavenly time!”
“You can stop talking like that,” he said. “We’ve already agreed that you’re not going with Roger.”
“There was no agreement. That fact that you reiterated something doesn’t mean that I agreed to it. I need that week’s holiday—very badly.”
“What you mean is that you’re determined to stake a claim to Roger, in case you decide you like him well enough to marry him some time.” His eyes narrowed, his voice and smile were unpleasantly sardonic. “But you’re not free to cast around among other men. You’re married—remember?”
Her hands tightened into fists at her sides. “If you remind me of that just once more—” she began.
“What will you do about it? Tell the world, after all?”
The shadow of fright flitted across her eyes. “That’s the one thing I won’t do. I’ve given you my word and I’ll stick to it. Besides, it would ... hurt everyone I know.”
“Particularly Roger?”
“If you like,” she said defiantly. “If you’re as keen as I am to keep the secret for ever, why don’t you act normally? Just let me go to Singapore for that week’s holiday as if there were no reason why I shouldn’t. It can’t possibly matter to you whether...”
“It can’t matter unless, inadvertently, the marriage comes to light. If it should, and you can prove that since arriving in Penghu you’ve been quietly staying with the Winchesters, both your word and mine will be believed.” His mouth twisted, thinly. “But it would look a bit odd, wouldn’t it, if the truth came out after you’d had that week with Roger Payn in Singapore?”
“Not if I stay with Roger’s parents!”
“We’ve been over that already. To them you’re a prospective daughter-in-law; there’s no avoiding it. But how can you possibly live under their roof and deceive them? It would be monstrous.”
“I’ve been invited as a friend of Roger’s,” she threw back at him. “They’re just sending a couple of plane tickets so that he can bring someone.”
“Whom they know to be a girl! You’re not going, Teresa. That’s final.”
The violet flames leapt in her eyes. Hoarsely she whispered, “You can’t stop me, Pete. You may be clever and dictatorial and exceedingly sure of your own power, but in this you can’t stop me,”
“No?” He brought his face down close to hers. “Very well, Teresa, we’ll put it to the test this evening. When you’re all having drinks before dinner I’ll call in and make an announcement. I’ll bet the news that we’re married will flutter the village!”
White-faced, she stared at him. “You wouldn’t do that,” she breathed. “For your own sake you wouldn’t do that!”
“Unless you give me your word that you’ll call off the visit to Singapore, I’ll go right ahead and make the whole thing public. You needn’t question whether I’ll dare it,” with a tight, fierce smile. “I will!”
“What about ... Astrid Harmsen?”
“That was your idea—that I was keen to keep the thing from Astrid. Now that you’ve met her, you probably realize that an annulled marriage in my past life would be more likely to make me exciting in her eyes than otherwise. It’s you who will feel it, Teresa—not I!”
He was right, of course. A man is forgiven almost anything, and in this case Pete would be dubbed chivalrous and protective. But Terry, as the woman concerned, would be talked about and people would always wonder. And there was her father, not too well these days...
In low tones she said, “I would never have believed this of you—that you’d threaten and ... and trap me. I’ve disliked you a few times, Pete, but never so much as I dislike you now.”
“Thanks a lot. If that’s the price I have to pay for getting you to act sensibly, I’ll have to pay it, won’t I?” With a flick of his fingers he opened the door, but he didn’t look at her as he said, “Go in and rest a bit. If you’ll let yourself think straight you’ll find yourself admitting that it’s better to be wise than remorseful. So long.”
Terry went into the house and he closed the door behind her. She was alone in a room where it was cool and normal and quiet, but her pulses drummed and she felt physically sick. As she walked into her bathroom and loosened her belt, her mind went almost blank. Not quite, because crouching in a corner of it was her own battered but undefeated determination to go with Roger Payn to Singapore.
As she became calmer she also became more and more certain that Pete, for some reason of his own, had been trying to frighten her. He didn’t want the beastly bogus marriage made a subject for gossip any more than she did, and his remark that Astrid might find him more exciting if she heard about it had been made either in acid jest or merely to accentuate his point of view. His real reason for not wanting her to go with Roger was probably rather simple. Perhaps he thought that alone with an amorous young man she might become sentimental to the point of confessing the whole thing. Well, Pete’s views couldn’t be allowed to count. It was far more important that she should get away for a while.
CHAPTER EIGHT
FOR the rest of that week Terry was occupied with polishing, dusting and making up the beds in her sister’s flat. On Friday came the first communication from Annette and Vic; they expected to reach Penghu on Saturday evening. The question was, would they want to be met by a party or a silent flat?
Terry put it to Vida Winchester, and the older woman smiled. “Half of them will want the party—the most important half. Vic will fervently prefer the silent flat. I suggest we accommodate them both. We can leave a note at the flat asking them to come over and join a party here on Saturday evening.”
“Yes, I think they’d both like that. D’you know, I’m quite shaky about meeting them again. I do hope they’ve had a marvellous honeymoon.”
“I hope so, too, though it’s really more important that they should settle happily here. I wish you could settle here too, Terry.”
Quietly Terry said, “I half wish it myself, but actually I don’t think I shall stay for long, once I’m back from Singapore.”
“You are going, then?”
“Can you see any reason why I shouldn’t go?”
“Only Pete’s disapproval. Not that he’s mentioned it to me, personally. He told Bill you weren’t going.”
“It’s best to say nothing to Pete about Singapore,” said Terry hurriedly. “It’s not his business.”
“He’s a strange man in some ways,” said Vida musingly. “He makes himself responsible for people. He looked after you on the trip from Vinan and I suppose he feels you still need guidance. The same thing happened with the Harmsens.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, since we’ve known Pete, Bill has talked to other men about him. It seems that the Harmsens’ plantation had a pretty poor manager at one time. The old man was ill in Sweden, and when he died the son came out to settle and make the rubber pay. Pete showed him the ropes, but Jan never did take to planting and when his sister joined him it was the beginning of the end. Bu
t Pete has been behind them all the time, building up the plantation, urging them to wait a while before putting the place on the market. It was he who introduced the chairman of the Peninsular Rubber Company to Jan Harmsen, but he wouldn’t do it till the plantation was in fair shape.”
“Perhaps,” said Terry evenly, “he has a particular interest in the Harmsens.”
Vida nodded, smiling. “He has. I’ll never forget the day we all went to his place for lunch. The Harmsen girl must love the tropics. She was radiant. She hugged Pete in front of the whole crowd.”
Terry said, “Astrid seems to be an effervescent person. You always think of Scandinavians as remote and poised.” She picked up a magazine, straightened from the bookshelf to find Vida half-turned in her chair and regarding her thoughtfully.
“Have I torn something?” she forced herself to enquire with a smile.
Vida’s expression was sober. “I don’t know, dear. Have you? Something rather vital? You look it, occasionally.”
Terry wasn’t surprised; that was how she felt occasionally, too. “I’m just a bit unsettled,” she answered carelessly. “With Annette coming home and the trip to Singapore ... you know how it is.”
“Yes, I believe I do. Do you mind if I offer a spot of advice?”
“Go right ahead.”
“Well,” Vida hesitated. “Perhaps this trip with Roger has made me think about it, or perhaps it’s your age—such a lovely, dewy age that should be enjoyed every minute. If,” again a pause, “if you find yourself falling in love with someone don’t struggle and flounder. Love is necessary. It broadens and deepens one’s whole being, even if there’s unhappiness in it. Annette has been finding that out, and you’ll find it too.”
For a moment Terry longed to give in, to abandon herself to Vida’s comforting presence. But in the same moment she knew it would do no good. She tucked her magazine under her arm and moved towards the door.
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