Ship's Surgeon

by Celine Conway

  Another day passed. Pat spent most of it in Deva’s stateroom, playing card games and reading aloud. Mrs. Lai stood at the open window like a dog who has been exiled too long, sniffing the atmosphere and gazing out towards her homeland, which was still a few hundred miles away. The ship was not speeding; it seemed to be nicely worked out that the Walhara should, wherever possible, dock in the morning and leave on the late tide.

  The following night, after dinner, the ship stood off Colombo. The lights of the town were myriads of diamonds and there was a smell like nothing Pat had ever smelled before. Spicy, aromatic, hot and subtly magnetic. Deva had become so excited that she had had to be put down with a sedative.

  Pat stood alone for a long time, breathing in the tropical night and thinking of all the things Deva had told her about Ceylon. A paradise, it sounded; lush growth, terraced tea gardens, paddy fields temples, a superabundance of equatorial flowers, fruits, and much more. Tomorrow, she thought hollowly, would see the end of one phase of her trip and the beginning of the second and last. She wished she felt in fighting mood.

  At her side, Kristin said peremptorily, “I want to speak to you, privately. Your cabin would be best, I think.”

  Pat felt clammy and worn. “All right,” she said offhandedly. “You’ve been there before, so you know the way. I’ll follow.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kristin, in her sultry red sheath dress, looked out of place in the tiny cabin. It deemed smaller than ever, and she looked about her with some distaste before sitting, as she had before, on the side of the bed, which was really too high for comfort as a divan. On the other hand, she no doubt felt the low chair might put her at a disadvantage.

  “I notice you’ve made no attempt to pack,” she said sharply. “I haven’t much time—Vernon always likes to know where I am—so I’d better come straight to the point. I hear it’s most unlikely that you’ll let the Walhara go on without you tomorrow night.”

  Pat nodded. She was leaning back against the wall, her arms hanging loosely at her sides. “Miss Wadia can get along without me now. I was going on to Australia, anyway, but by the next ship. I’m not interfering with your voyage in any way, Kristin. We hardly see each other.”

  “That’s not the crux of the matter, is it? I’m afraid we’ve reached a spot where we have to be very outspoken with each other. I don’t want you to go to Australia, or to see your uncle. That must be clear enough.”

  Pat took a deep breath. “You know the alternative. If you can settle enough money on the boys to ensure their getting a good education and start in some profession, I’ll willingly leave the ship tomorrow and return to England.”

  “You know I can’t do that!”

  “Why can’t you?” asked Pat slowly. “It’s not difficult for a woman to get money from a man who’s loaded with it, and loves her. You’re very fortunate, Kristin. Vernon Corey does love you, and I’ve thought once or twice that if you had told him how things were when you met—that the deception was a ... a sort of face you put on the world...”

  “Oh, stop it.” Kristin snapped impatient fingers. “I know Vernon and you don’t. He’s a hulking great buffalo of a man, but he has a woolly, sentimental little heart. He’d have no time for a woman who had abandoned her children. Not that I left the twins uncared for,” she took herself up swiftly. “It was bad enough that I felt compelled to leave your father, without taking the boys from him. They had a better home than I could have given them, and it wouldn’t have been fair to them to drag them away from it.”

  “I wonder if that’s how you regarded it at the time? You hadn’t ever given them much love.”

  “I don’t happen to like children very much. Some women are obsessed with them; they feel complete if they have sons. I don’t. I found those two an unutterable nuisance from the start, but it didn’t much matter because they had a doting father and elder sister and were looked after without much help from me. My marrying your father was a mistake and I certainly didn’t want children.”

  “You can’t just bang down a shutter on your responsibilities!”

  Kristin’s dark eyes narrowed. “You didn’t mind, and neither did the boys. You’ve had the money your father left for their education; they were his financial burden, not mine. If you’ve mismanaged their affairs it’s up to you to put things right. At the moment I’m more or less broke, so I couldn’t help you even if I felt I should. Which I don’t, by the way. You’ve probably been using some of the boys’ money for yourself.”

  “You know I wouldn’t do that. You’re a hard woman, Kristin.”

  “I’m what the world has made me. I want life, not drudgery, and I want it so badly that I won’t allow any single thing to get in the way of my marriage with Vernon. There’ll never come another like him into my life; that sort of luck doesn’t happen twice.”

  “I’m not threatening your marriage. But if Uncle Dan again suggests that he should take in the boys I’m going to agree. They’d be better off with an uncle than trying to get by on what I might be able to afford.”

  “So you’ve decided,” said Kristin in careful tones. “You never did like me, did you, and now you feel you’re really getting back at me. Let me tell you something; it’s very doubtful whether you can take those boys away from England without my consent—and you’ll never get that. What’s more, if you go any farther at all with this, I’ll definitely make arrangements through my solicitor for the twins to be put away somewhere.”

  Pat’s hands pressed back against the cold painted steel of the wall. “I believe you would,” she said quietly. “How can you talk about your own children like this? If the boys lived in Melbourne with their uncle you needn’t see them, or even think about them; but surely it would be good to know they were having every care and advantage? They’d be brought up as Uncle Dan’s sons and I think it’s very unlikely they’d, ever ask questions about their mother. In any case, I wouldn’t let Uncle Dan know you’d married an Australian. I promise that. He could go on thinking I hadn’t seen you for years. Kristin, you must...”

  The narrow shoulders jerked irritably. “I don’t want to hear it. All I know is that thanks to your insidious approach Vernon is already interested in your brothers, and I refuse to allow you to make complications for me in Australia!”

  “And you’ve nothing to ... to offer?”

  “I’ve told you I’ve no money of my own—not a cent.”

  “Supposing I were willing to let things stand over till you’re married?”

  “Ah! I was waiting for that.” Kristin came quickly to her feet. “That’s one thing I won’t tolerate—blackmail. I may find it possible to let you have money after my marriage, but I may not. Money for England has to be sent through a bank, and Vernon is too good a business man to miss that sort of transaction.”

  “You could say you were helping a friend in distress.”

  “I could say that just once. But you wouldn’t stop at one demand, my dear. There’d be others. After the first payment I’d be at your mercy. Don’t look at me like a hurt puppy! I trust no one, and certainly not you, because I know that if you felt it would be to your advantage you’d go straight up on deck and tell Vernon all you know about me, right now.”

  Pat said slowly, “It would be to my advantage, Kristin. Mr. Corey has already promised to help the boys if I let them live in Australia.”

  Kristin’s smile distorted her mouth, left her eyes dark and glittering. “If you destroyed his faith in me he wouldn’t help my boys, I can assure you. He trusts me now, and there’s nothing he wants so much as to marry me. If you want financial help, you’ll have to wait until I’m married, and I’ll see what can be done. But if you try blackmail...”

  The last word hung hideously on the air. Pat slackened, rubbed cold fingers over her forehead. She was very close to Kristin, could smell that rare scent of hers, cool, magnolia-like. She wished she could think clearly and were able to see beyond the limits she had set herself. Her desires were very si
mple, but Kristin twisted them into something ugly and almost sinister.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Pat said, low-voiced. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want the best I can get for Tim and Keith, and Uncle Dan happens to have offered it. That’s all there is to it.”

  Kristin moved past her, towards the door. “I’ve said all I meant to say, except this. I’ll give you your fare home from Colombo—I can get it out of Vernon by telling him that you’ve changed your mind and feel you should get back to England. We’d be telling the truth that way. He’s a generous man and will gladly pay up if he thinks you’re worried and out of funds. You’ll leave the ship tomorrow, and stay out of my life.”

  “And the boys?”

  “I’ll try to help you after I’ve been married a few months, but I can’t promise.”

  “It’s not good enough, Kristin.”

  “It’s the best I can do. Think it over and let me have your decision tomorrow morning. I must go now.”

  And she went, like that, her dark head held high and her heels put-putting over the rubberized floor of the corridor. The cabin door clicked gently shut, pushed by the spring, and Pat swayed and closed her eyes. The fan hummed in the ceiling, the ship’s engine chugged over softly, waiting for the morning. Pat felt as if she herself would stand there all night, just waiting for the dawn.

  She didn’t, of course. She had a bath and got into bed, lay back in the whispering, humming darkness with her hands behind her head. It was strange that, having known Kristin over so many years she, Pat, should be astounded by the woman’s cold, measuring callousness. Kristin wasn’t normal—never had been. She had come into the Fenley family like a dark spirit, and Pat remembered her father’s saying, soon after Kristin had left him: “Don’t judge her, Pat. Her parents led a cat-and-dog life, but waited till she’d left school before they divorced each other. From then on Kristin was on her own. She should have married young and been cherished, but for years she was against marriage because of what it had done to her parents. So you mustn’t judge her. She’s had a loveless life, because she’s found it so difficult to love.”

  But for how long did one go on not judging a woman who had uncaringly left behind her the wreckage of a marriage which could, but for her own selfishness, have been serene? In full maturity Kristin had less heart than ever and no scruples at all. Had there been any pleading in her, the smallest sign that she really did care what happened to the boys, Pat might have wondered if there were some other way she could handle the situation. But Kristin left no gaps anywhere; Pat really had no option but to go ahead on the course she had chosen.

  When she awoke, next morning, to see flamingo-red clouds through the porthole and to hear dock workers shouting as they tied up the Walhara, she knew they were alongside, at Colombo. She knelt on her bed to look out, and was rather glad she was on the sea side of the ship. She could see a luxury yacht at anchor, another liner and several cargo vessels, and sailing away amid cheers from an unseen crowd was a visiting battleship of the Royal Navy. Pride and sentiment stung her eyelids and made her lips tremble. Surely nothing dreadful could happen, even in one’s private life, with the indomitable Navy about.

  By seven o’clock she was dressed in the pale blue-and-white striped cotton she had kept new for the occasion. Uniform wouldn’t have been correct, but neither would a tourist’s sun-dress. A crisp collar and short sleeves, a swinging skirt and wide belt; yes, it looked right, and would look more so when she wore the white straw hat with fly-away ribbons and white stack-heeled shoes.

  It was impossible to keep Deva in bed. “We must go to the lounge, Pattie! My father will come aboard as soon as he is permitted, and I want him to find me dressed and ready to leave. Please, Pattie!”

  “Don’t fuss, darling. It’ll take time. Mrs. Lai will get you dressed and then you must sit quietly and have your tea. I’ll go and see the immigration official the moment he arrives.”

  “But they know me, these people!”

  “You and Mrs. Lai may still have to sign forms, though. You’re returning residents. Just be calm, there’s a dear.”

  “Will you let me know as soon as people are permitted to come on the ship?”

  “Of course I will. Now if you want to walk ashore, do sit down and let Mrs. Lai look after you. If you’re tired, the doctor will order the chair.”

  This quietened Deva. Not for anything would she give up that moment when she would walk grandly ashore, the girl who had been cured of a serious congenital heart defect. Pat lightly touched her shoulder and left her. In the main lounge a couple of officials were already setting their papers out on two joined tables, and when she approached them one of the men smiled and said in perfect English:

  “Good morning, madam. You disembark at Colombo?”

  “No. I’m in charge of Miss Wadia.”

  Both men beamed widely. “Ah,” said the one who had spoken. “So she is here! Her father and uncles are waiting in cars, for the word from us. Miss Wadia is well?”

  “Very well, but I think I had better fill out any forms for her. She can sign, if you wish. There’s also her companion, Mrs. Lai.”

  “We have the forms ready. No signature is necessary in the case of Miss Wadia. When can you bring her here to the lounge?”

  “Now, if you wish.”

  “Say in fifteen minutes, at eight o’clock. By then her father will be here.”

  It gave Pat time for a quick breakfast. She ate a piece of toast with honey, drank some coffee, and afterwards went straight to the surgery. The doctor, said Sister Edwards, was stitching a little boy’s ear-lobe.

  “Just imagine,” she said matter-of-factly, “the kid put on his mother’s earrings and somehow got one of them caught up in the nursery swing. Honestly, the way things happen you feel all youngsters should be chained down till they’re fourteen at least. Here’s the doctor now.”

  He was in his shirtsleeves, had presumably just got out of his hospital coat. He took his white uniform jacket from the back of a chair, and automatically, because she was used to doctors, Pat took it from him and held it while he slipped into it.

  “Thanks,” he said, without expression. “I was just coming along to the stateroom. Is Deva ready?”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  His manner entirely non-committal, he said, “Let’s go, then. The sooner she’s ashore the sooner she’ll rest.”

  Deva looked pretty in pastel green. She didn’t wear the sari over her head, like older women, and her hair was a lustrous black pigtail tapering into a long natural curl. She was tense, held-in, and Bill looked at her searchingly before he said casually:

  “Well, this is Colombo. You’ve made it. I’m going to carry you to the lounge, but I’ll set you down outside. Then you’ll be able to walk in alone to greet your father. Okay?”

  “Okay!” she bubbled. “I’m heavier since London, you know.”

  “I’m not often weak at this time of the morning,” he said, and Pat felt his faintly sarcastic glance slide over herself, impersonally, before he added, “Mustn’t crease this marvellous creation of yours, Deva. There, up we go. Comfortable?”

  “As if I were on a cloud!”

  “Well, let’s sail away. You’d better come too, Miss Fenley.”

  Pat followed him and his burden. Passengers eager to go ashore were already gathered on the decks, and they looked round at Deva and smiled, shouted good wishes and goodbyes. She answered them quickly, eagerly, laughed up into Bill’s face. He gave her his tolerant smile.

  At the opening into the lounge he set her down, and Pat flicked the sari into its natural folds. Deva squared her thin shoulders, clasped her hands tightly in front of her, and walked out of sight.

  “We’ll give them five minutes,” said Bill, and he walked to the rail.

  He had nothing to say to her. It was so obvious that Pat felt it like a pain and humiliation that everyone was aware of. She exchanged good mornings with people who passed, said no, thanks to someone
who offered a packet of cigarettes. The minutes went by, and then Bill turned and nodded towards the lounge. Pat went ahead of him.

  Deva was sitting and three men gazed at her. She clapped her hands and said, “These are Pattie and Doctor Bill!” And more reverently, “This is my father ... and these my two uncles. My mother waits in the car.”

  Mr. Wadia was a smallish man, brown-skinned and well-dressed in narrow white trousers and a loose coat. His pepper-and-salt hair was uncovered, but he held a topi-like hat in one hand while he extended the other. He spoke with emotion.

  “This is a splendid day for us, Doctor ... and Miss Fenley. To think we should see Deva back like this, so well and happy. I shall never be able to thank enough all these people who have done so much for us. My house is yours while you are here.”

  “That’s very kind,” said Bill. “Miss Fenley will go ashore with you now, but I’m tied up this morning. I’d like to see your doctor, though. Will he be available this afternoon?”

  “Certainly. I shall be most happy if you will come to the house. It is some way out, but I will send a car. What time will you be free?”

  “Say two-thirty. Could you have your doctor there at three?”

  “I will arrange it. Perhaps you can tell me now whether it will be quite safe for Deva to have a different physiotherapist? Myself, I would prefer to have Miss Fenley stay with us, but I realize that our way of life is very different from yours and she might be lonely. However, the decision is with you.”

  “I don’t think Deva will need therapy much longer,” Bill said suavely. “I have a letter from the specialist in London which I’ll pass on to your doctor, and I’ll tell him my own experience with your very valuable daughter. After that, she will be in his hands.”