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Spell of the Island

Page 14

by Hampson, Anne


  ‘I’d like to bet that Paul asked him to say that.’

  Emma said reflectively, ‘As a matter of fact, I actually accused Paul of doing just that.’

  It strikes me,’ commented her sister scathingly, ‘that you’re about as blind as they come. There were many signs that even I noticed, so you—if you’d only been alert—must have seen numerous signs. I’d bet everything I have that Paul fell in love with you—’

  ‘Then why didn’t he say so? And why didn’t he ask me to marry him?’

  ‘There’s some reason for his attitude,’ admitted Louise with a frown of perplexity. ‘Are you sure you didn’t do anything to turn him against you—no, that’s not what I really mean,’ she amended, and for a long moment she was lost in thought. ‘He knows your opinion of him, he said. Anything else?’

  ‘He said I needn’t be afraid of any unwanted attention from him.’

  Louise utterd a little impatient sound.

  ‘Did it not strike you that he was piqued about something?’

  It was Emma’s turn to become thoughtful. She looked at her sister, recalling that it was she who had fallen for Paul at first, and Emma had been fearful of her reaction should she discover what was going on between Paul and herself. Now, it seemed, Louise was more than anxious to have Paul for a brother-in-law!

  ‘I must admit,’ she mused at length, ‘that when Paul spoke those words about his being fully aware of my opinion of him, I did feel that there was something deeper than the actual recollection by him of things I had previously said—’

  ‘You mean about his being pompous, etc.?’

  Emma nodded her head.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. He seemed—sort of—bitter,’ she mused.

  ‘It’s as I said: it had lost its sting . . . but something else stung him even deeper.’ Louise looked at her and added almost forcefully, ‘Can’t you remember anything else you might have said to cause him to take that cool unfriendly attitude towards you?’

  ‘No, I’m sure I never said anything else.’ She gave a small sigh. ‘We’re just wasting time, Louise. Let’s forget all about Paul Fanchette. I’m going back upstairs to Mother. I know she was asleep when we left her, but she might have wakened by now.’

  Louise watched her go, steps dragging. She looked at her watch, Mauritius time was about four hours ahead of GMT. . . . It would be around ten o’clock at night there. Paul should still be up.

  * * *

  Just as the doctor predicted, Mrs. Morris began to improve and was soon sitting up in bed.

  ‘It’s miraculous!’ exclaimed Louise as she showed the doctor to the door. ‘We’ve nothing to worry about now?’

  ‘Not a thing. It wasn’t ever an illness that could end up in disaster,’ he went on with a smile. ‘But it was worrying for you girls who’d never had their mother ill before. She needs care, and a good long holiday—abroad if it can be done?’

  ‘Emma and I might manage it,’ said Louise.

  ‘Try,’ he advised. ‘A complete change of scenery often works wonders.’

  Emma and Louise talked about it and totalled up their savings. Emma knew that Paul would pay Pierre the money he had lent her, so she decided to forget all about it. Together the two girls had enough to give their mother a three-week holiday somewhere on the Continent; and as Emma had to go into work, Louise would be the one to accompany her mother.

  Of course, Mrs. Morris objected strongly to the girls spending their savings in this way, but she was overruled. Louise, meanwhile, seemed to have something else on her mind and one day Emma said, subjecting her to a keen scrutiny, ‘Is something wrong, Louise? You seem troubled these days?’

  The careless shrug did not deceive Emma any more than the casual reply.

  ‘Nothing at all. Don’t know why you asked.’

  Emma said slowly, ‘Is it a job—I mean, are you afraid it won’t be easy for you to get one?’

  ‘I rather think I can go back to my old one. Mr. Fleming did say at the time I left that if I didn’t like Mauritius I must come back and see him.’

  ‘Oh, good!’ This at least was a problem solved, a problem that Emma had been secretly worrying about ever since Louise had decided to leave Paul’s employ. ‘Are you sure you haven’t any other worry?’ she just had to ask presently. ‘I sense there is something on your mind all the time.’

  ‘Well, there isn’t, so don’t fuss.’ She walked out of the room with an air of impatience, and Emma stood staring after her. Something was the matter, but as once before, Emma knew without any doubt at all that she would get nothing out of her sister.

  It was just over a week since Emma left Mauritius. She was back at work, but each day dragged, and the evenings even more so. She seemed to be seeing Paul during every waking hour and prayed that life would one day become interesting again. She had been so happy in her job before going to Mauritius, but now she had no enthusiasm; everything she did was a chore whether it be at work or at home. However, she was looking forward to the week-end for she was going to see her mother. Louise quite naturally was not looking for a job yet; she would do that after the planned holiday was over.

  Emma drove up on the Saturday morning, starting out early so she would arrive before lunch. There was a car outside the house, and her heart gave a great lurch. Was her mother ill again? It was with some urgency that she slid from her car and rang the bell. Louise opened it, and her expression not only reassured Emma but it also puzzled her a little. For there was a very satisfied look in her eyes as she said brightly, ‘Come right in, Emma. I have—’

  ‘That car. . . .’ Emma twisted her head around as she entered the small hall of her mother’s house. ‘I thought at first it might be the doctor.’

  ‘No,” said Louise slowly as she closed the door behind her sister, ‘it isn’t the doctor.’

  ‘I realise that now, but whose is it?’

  ‘We have a visitor—it’s a hired car I expect,’ added Louise as she stood waiting for Emma to precede her into the living-room from where voices could be heard, those of Mrs. Morris and. . . .

  ‘Paul!’ Suddenly Emma’s legs felt weak, and her heart was racing madly. ‘What—why—?’

  ‘Go right in,’ advised Louise, but Emma held back, her whole body trembling.

  ‘I can’t! He—’ She looked at Louise through lashes that were suddenly stiff with moisture. ‘How did he get here?’ she quivered, holding a hand to her heart.

  ‘By airplane, I expect—’

  ‘Louise!’

  ‘Sorry,’ with some amusement. Louise was certainly very pleased with herself, noticed Emma. ‘He’s here at my invitation. If you must have an explanation, here it is.’ Louise drew Emma back along the hall and spoke in a low tone. ‘I rang the chateau one night, but the phone was answered by Eileen—much to my disgust.’

  ‘But why did you phone the chateau?’ asked Emma as her sister paused a moment. Louise stared at her with undisguised impatience.

  ‘Because it was obvious that he loves you. I wanted to know what had happened to—well—make him go off you, to put it in the modern idiom. He told me that you’d said outright to Eileen that you detested him. Did you?’ inquired Louise with interest.

  Emma started. She had completely forgotten saying that to Eileen, and now that it was brought to her memory she felt herself colouring up.

  ‘Yes, I did,’ confessed Emma but went on swiftly to explain, ‘She’d goaded me, implying that I’d fallen for Paul, so I said I detested him—’

  ‘You idiot. Didn’t it strike you that she’d be ready to repeat anything you might say about Paul?’

  ‘I would never have expected her to repeat it.’

  ‘She wants the man herself, remember, and her methods of turning him off you would naturally be unscrupulous. As I said, she answered the phone and said Paul was out. I couldn’t believe it and rang again the next day. Eileen again! This time she said Paul was away from home and would not be returning for several weeks. Well, that was a li
e; I saw it at once so decided to keep on phoning until I did get Paul. He was blazing mad when I told him that Eileen had answered each time and said he was away. It happened that, just by chance, he was either out in the garden or had gone into town; whatever the reason, Eileen by sheer luck, answered my calls. However,’ went on Louise with a narrowed and determined gaze, ‘I would never have let up. The darned girl couldn’t possibly answer Paul’s phone for evermore! I told him you’re madly in love with him and said there must be some excuse for your saying you detested him. I think you’d better go in,’ recommended Louise with a sort of triumphant grin. ‘He knows it was you who rang the bell just now. And I guess he’s already losing his patience. He’ll probably slate you good and hard before he proposes.’ Louise had walked on with Emma, legs still weak, following behind. ‘Mother and I are just going out—to do some shopping,’ said Louise over her shoulder.

  It was half an hour later and, true to Louise’s prediction, Paul had given Emma a slating, his main accusation being that she ought to have recognised the signs that he was falling in love with her and, in turn, given him some signs. She took it all meekly for some moments and then could not help retaliating.

  ‘I did recognise the signs, but let me jog your memory! It was as your mistress that you wanted me!’

  ‘At first,’ he admitted with a sudden frown, ‘but afterwards I was glad you’d refused.’

  ‘Then why the d—why didn’t you say so?’ she demanded.

  ‘Because you never gave me the slightest clue that you cared. Oh, you were drawn to me physically,’ he went on swiftly as her expression changed. ‘But love. . . .’ He shook his head. ‘Not a sign.’

  ‘Then you’re blind!’ she flashed, and Paul instantly responded with, ‘That makes two of us!’

  She looked at him, and the tears on her lashes were not caused by anger alone.

  ‘If—if you’ve come h-here only to quarrel w-with me. . . .’ She was suddenly swept into his arms, further speech effectively prevented by his kiss, and for a long time the living-room was silent except for little sighs of happiness from Emma and soft murmurings of endearment from her lover.

  At last he held her from him, looked tenderly into her eyes, and asked her to marry him, adding ruefully when in husky tones she had answered him, ‘Although I knew I was beginning to love you, I fought it. I enjoyed my carefree life and was most reluctant to change it. But you . . . in that first moment of looking into your eyes something happened to me. I denied it was anything more than physical attraction and told myself I’d be satisfied to have you as my mistress for a while. Yet all the time I was confused, trying to persuade you to be my mistress and yet always relieved that you’d resisted—’

  ‘You were?’ She looked up at him with a puzzled frown.

  ‘As I’ve admitted, I was confused—and reluctant to give up my freedom. I was constantly resisting the deep attraction you had for me, telling myself it would pass. Then after I’d managed to be off-hand for a while, I’d find myself wanting you, desperately—’

  ‘Hence those onslaughts,’ Emma could not help submitting and received a little shake for her impudence.

  ‘Each time,’ he went on, and he was serious again, ‘I wanted you to give in, and yet once the moment had passed I was glad you’d resisted me.’ He looked down at her and gave a small sigh. ‘I might as well have given in, but the gap between wanting a girl for my bedmate only, and wanting her for my wife, and I was taking time in bridging that gap.’ Paul bent to kiss her, and his strong arms tightened around her. ‘However, at last I was ready to ask you to marry me, as I felt you loved me. Then Eileen repeated what you’d said—it was a blow,’ he added almost harshly. ‘I knew I couldn’t take you to the airport—in fact, I wanted only to keep away until you’d left—’

  ‘You should have known I didn’t mean it,’ she protested, clinging tightly to him. ‘I was always saying things I didn’t mean.’

  ‘About me?’ Paul’s eyes registered a mock-stern expression. ‘Yes, I remember, and, my girl, I also remember your saying you’d not have me if I were the last man on earth. . . .’ His voice faded as Emma placed the palm of her hand over his mouth.

  She was laughing with her eyes, and he shook her, playfully. He took her hand from his mouth. She said, caressing his nape, ‘Tell me some more—about your struggle, I mean.’

  Paul laughed and said he’d told her just about everything, yet added reflectively, ‘As I said, I felt I’d be satisfied with the physical side, but soon it was being bourn upon me that I wanted a true friend and companion, a confidante from whom there would be no secrets. In short, my beloved, I wanted you.’

  She buried her face in his coat, too full for the moment to speak. But at last she was able to say, lifting her lovely eyes to his, ‘It’s a miracle, Paul. I can’t believe it’s really happening to me—no, I still can’t believe it.’

  ‘Nor I.’ He stared at her in wonderment. ‘Why should I be so lucky, after the life I’ve led?’

  ‘A bachelor gay. . . .’ Emma had not intended saying anything like that, and she looked at him to note his reaction, half expecting him to laugh.

  Instead he said seriously, ‘And you, my darling, have put a stop to it. I love you, my precious sweetheart, forever. You trust me, dear?’

  ‘With my life,’ she answered confidently.

  Paul drew her to his breast, tilted her face and possessed her lips, and once again there was silence in the room.

  ‘Louise has been a real brick,’ he was saying eventually as he and Emma sat very close together on the couch, fingers entwined. ‘I take back everything I said about her.’

  ‘It was only a crush; she soon realised that.’

  ‘She was determined to bring us together.’

  ‘She called me an idiot for not realising that you loved me.’

  Paul laughed.

  ‘That’s exactly what she said to me as well.’

  After a small pause Emma asked, ‘Has Eileen left the chateau?’

  ‘Most certainly!’ There was a grim expression in Paul’s dark eyes. ‘I told her I was coming over to England to ask you to marry me, so she didn’t need any telling to leave.’

  ‘Your mother won’t be pleased.’

  He looked at her with a puzzled expression, and after a slight hesitation, Emma confessed to having overheard his conversation with his mother. He merely shrugged his shoulders and took Emma in his arms again. She leant her head against his shoulder and talked about her mother. When she mentioned the proposed holiday he said at once, ‘Why can’t she have the holiday in Mauritius? We shall want her there for the wedding in any case. She can stay as long as she likes.’

  ‘Oh, Paul, can she?’ Shining eyes were raised to his. ‘She’ll love the chateau and the gardens—she adores flowers and trees. I can’t wait to tell her! Wherever can she and Louise have got to, I wonder?’

  ‘I did tell them not to rush back,’ admitted Paul with a wry smile. ‘You see, my darling, I rather thought I would be making violent love to you—’ He threw back his head and laughed at her embarrassment. ‘We talked too much, I’m afraid. However, there’s always another time,’ he went on, still greatly amused by her blushes. ‘In any case,’ he added presently, ‘we shall be married very shortly.’ Imperious the tone all at once, and a challenge in his eyes. ‘A fortnight will be long enough for you to get ready?’

  ‘A fortnight! But—’

  ‘We’ll all fly back together in a few days,’ he interrupted. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for you to do all the necessary preparations.’

  ‘Paul—a fortnight! Invitations, Louise and mother . . . getting their dresses, and mine. . . .’ Emma tailed off as she heard the key in the front door. Her mother was the first to come into the room; she stood there beaming at the two on the couch, sitting close, hands still clasped together.

  ‘We’re getting married in a fortnight,’ Paul said, rising to his feet.

  ‘Splendid,’ approved Mrs. Morr
is imperturbably, ‘In Mauritius, I suppose?’ she added with a glance at Paul.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then we shall have to be doing, shan’t we?’ Mrs. Morris gave a big sigh of contentment and laid the large box she was carrying on a chair.

  Emma said in some puzzlement, ‘What have you in there, Mother?’

  ‘My dress for the wedding—’

  ‘Your!—’ Emma gave her a stunned look. ‘But—a dress for the wedding?’

  ‘Louise told me over a week ago that you and Paul would be getting married, and so I thought I’d better look for a dress. I found a beauty—you’ll love it! I had to have it shortened, and we’ve collected it today—oh, you can both laugh!’ she went on when Paul and Emma could not contain their mirth. ‘But from Louise’s description of your character, Paul, I guessed that once you’d made up your mind you’d not stand for any delay. And so I wasn’t going to be caught on the hop, rushing around for a dress.’

  Louise came in carrying two bags filled with groceries. She looked a little flustered and said self-deprecatingly, ‘Hope you don’t mind, Paul—my taking things for granted?’

  ‘Not in the least.’ The dry tone was also edged with amusement. ‘I imagine I said enough on the phone to convince you that I intended to marry Emma—especially after I’d told you I was catching the first available plane.’

  Louise nodded her head, but murmured after a moment, and with a hint of mischief in her voice, ‘Nevertheless, I daresay I was a little premature, letting Mother buy the dress. You see, Emma might not have accepted you.’

  Paul looked tenderly at Emma and said softly, ‘Was there any possibility of that, my love?’

  ‘None at all,’ she answered huskily. And, after a moment she added, changing the subject a little, ‘Paul, if Louise could have her job back—if she wants it, that is, then Mother could stay until she leaves.’

  ‘I’ve already thought of that,’ he responded. ‘Weil all have a discussion about it later.’

  ‘But for the time being,’ interposed his future mother-in-law, her brisk manner a cover for the happiness she was feeling, ‘I wonder if you two would mind very much going into the parlour? Louise and I want to lay lunch in here.’

 

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