by Jane Corrie
'I was furious at having been found. I very nearly shouted at him to go away and leave me alone. However, on second thoughts, I realised that when he knew I was English he would do no such thing but drag me back to the authorities. So I made out I didn't know much English. I had a smattering of French, but he spoke so fast I couldn't grasp what he was saying, which was just as Well, for it suited my purpose to say as little as possible.'
She sighed at this point. 'As it turned out, it was a stupid thing to do. If I'd told the truth, the en-
suing events wouldn't have happened—' her eyes screwed up at this. 'At least, I don't think they would have happened.'
As if loth to go on, she turned her attention to the smell of simmering stew. 'Oughtn't you to take that off the stove?' she said quickly. 'I can tell you the rest after we've eaten.'
Cathy gave a quick gasp and ran for the kitchenette. 'It's okay,' she called back to Cara. 'I was just in time to prevent it burning.' The last words were said as she rejoined Cara. 'As for finishing after we've eaten, not on your life l I've a feeling we're getting to the interesting part—and I've been so patient, haven't I?—but I shall burst soon if you don't get to the point,' she wailed.
Cara grinned at her. 'Very well,' she said. 'I shall just say that my tactics didn't work, and having got the name of the village out of me, he did exactly what I'd been afraid he'd do—dragged me back there. Well,' she conceded, 'not dragged exactly, but he did make me accompany him back to his car and drove me back to the village.' She frowned. 'I did try to get him to drop me off before we reached the village, by making a few signs that I wanted to be put down outside the village, but no such luck ! Even then, I might have been able to make myself scarce had not Tu-Tu been in the village square when we drove in.'
She gave Cathy a quick look, and on noting that she was indeed on the point of exploding, swallowed hastily and gabbled out, 'Whereupon he promptly married us!'
There was a tiny hush after this astounding statement, and then Cathy let out a squeak. 'He what?'
she got out, and stared at Cara with eyes wide open as she assimilated the news, then she gasped out, 'Oh, come on, Cara! I'll agree that you were very upset at the time, but to say that you were married to this man is impossible! For goodness' sake! And what was he doing all this time?' she demanded.
'Absolutely nothing,' replied Cara; trying to look solemn but failing, for the look on Cathy's face destroyed any such hope. 'He was just as perplexed as I was when Tu-Tu, after demanding to see his credentials, broke into some kind of a Polynesian chant, during which he took the man's handkerchief out of his top pocket and gave it to me, then took one of my flowers out of my hair and gave it to the extremely puzzled man. He then pointed at me and stared at the man, and said "Vahine".'
Cathy's fixed expression gave no sign of enlightenment, so Cara was forced to explain. 'Vahine,' she said softly, 'means "wife", in Polynesian.'
'I just don't believe it!' said the sorely tried Cathy. 'I mean, not in this day and age. That kind of thing might have been possible years ago, but not now.'
'That's what the man said,' answered Cara, now back to whatever was worrying her. 'He was fully aware of what the word meant, and proceeded to read the riot act to the chief, For a while there we were even, he was just as furious then as I'd been earlier when he'd insisted on bringing me back to the village. As for the "marriage", I didn't believe in it either. I thought the old chief was trying it on, as it were. When I thought about it later, I realised it was his way of protecting my honour, in case I'd
lost it, I mean. He knew very well that he couldn't hold the man to the marriage—if I'd been a villager, it would have been a different matter. He was a chief, and the old ways are still used on the odd occasion. In this case, I believe he was trying to instil some measure of conscience into the man— just in case anything had happened, since in a sense he felt responsible for me.
'Looking at it from his point of view,' she went on musingly, 'it does make sense. I was away for three days, then I suddenly appeared in this man's company. He was also well aware of the European outlook on such matters, and it was his way of trying to put things right.'
Cathy nodded slowly at this, then gave a quick grin. 'I don't suppose this man appreciated his point of view at the time, though, do you?'
'Hardly,' replied Cara dryly. He was hopping mad, and threatened to report Tu-Tu to the authorities. He also said he was due to leave for the U.K., the following day, but would make certain the affair was reported before he left. I can only remember feeling terrified that Tu-Tu would suggest that I accompany him, and the fat would really have been in the fire then. However, I think Tu-Tu had the sense to let well alone, although the news did please him, seeing that I too was going home shortly. I've wondered since if it would have made any difference if I'd spoken up and assured the chief that I was unharmed, and that the man had only been trying to help me by bringing me back, but to be honest, I was too miserable, and not a bit sorry for him. If he'd left me alone he wouldn't be in this mess, I told myself, and if we
were married it would serve him right for interfering, so I said nothing.'
Cathy sat back and surveyed her friend. 'And to think,' she said, 'that I thought I knew all about you. Now she calmly tells me she's had a shotgun wedding—if that doesn't beat everything! ' she grinned. Suddenly a thought struck her and she gave Cara a quick look. 'That restaurant,' she said swiftly. 'Don't tell me—let me guess —you met the man you were married to! '
Cara blinked in surprise at this near-truth, and Cathy gave a delighted crow of triumph. 'You did! ' she said, but added appealingly as if she couldn't really believe it, 'Did you—honestly?'
'I didn't,' admitted Cara slowly, 'actually meet him, but I sat at the next table to his.'
Cathy clasped her hands in an expression of anticipation. 'Well, go on!' she demanded. 'Did he recognise you?'
Cara shrugged. 'I doubt if he even saw me. You see, he was sitting a little in front of my table, so I only saw his profile, and unless he was actually looking in my direction, which he wasn't, he couldn't have seen me.'
Cathy was disappointed, but still curious. 'If you saw only his profile, how do you know it was him?' she asked, then brightened slightly as an idea hit her. 'He must be awfully good-looking to have made such an impression on you after all these years. Let me see—it's six years, isn't it?'
The bland amused way Cathy was taking things began to irritate Cara, although she had to admit that if she had been in Cathy's position she too would have seen the funny side of it, but as it was
she was unable to share that amusement. 'I have no idea,' she began stiffly, 'whether he's good-looking or not. In fact, if we passed in the street in broad daylight I wouldn't recognise him.'
'Of course you wouldn't, dear,' soothed Cathy hopefully, but spoilt it all by commenting brightly, 'I expect it was something to do with the way he held his head—they say it's odd little mannerisms like that that stick in the mind.'
Cara tried to assume an indignant expression at this double-edged comment, but failed, and gave a strangled chuckle. 'Oh, Cathy! It isn't funny! If you'd been with me and heard what I heard, you'd understand. It was the conversation that drew my attention to the table in the first place. There was I, watching the restaurant door and hoping you wouldn't be too late, and just going through what I had to do before I left tomorrow, when I heard my island mentioned. I wasn't eavesdropping,' she explained, 'I simply couldn't help overhearing what was said, and as it was some kind of celebration it was rather a noisy party.'
She frowned as she recalled what had been said. 'It appeared that one of the four men was going there, and it was a sort of a farewell do. Well, anyway, after I heard that, I was naturally curious, it was a bit of a coincidence, after all, but when they teased the man who was going about his "island bride" and how someone named Paula ought to be warned about her—all in innocent fun, mind you —the man was simply furious, and said something about wishing
he'd never mentioned the affair in the first place, and he had no wish to discuss it, etc. ...' She looked down at the carpet at her feet.
'The man's name was Pierre,' she added dismally. 'And the man that brought me back to the village was also named Pierre—and that was all I did remember about him—as I told you, I was too miserable at that time to remember much, except how I might have got away with it if he hadn't turned up.'
Cathy studied Cara's bent head as she concentrated her gaze on the carpet. It was odd really, she thought, if anyone else had told her a story like that, she would have accused them of slightly underrating her intelligence—anyone, that was, but Cara, whom she knew a little too well to doubt her word. Remembering too how she had looked when she had first appeared at the school, it was not hard for Cathy to visualise her in a sarong, complete with flowers in her lovely blue-black hair. Her brown eyes with the unusual amber flecks in them, that were now so seriously watching her, had denoted warmer climates than those endured in England. The Spanish factor of course had given the illusion added credence. 'I don't see why you're so worried,' she said calmly. 'It's not as if it was a real marriage, is it? And for all you know the poor man might have already had a wife—have you thought of that? It might be this Paula they were talking about.'
Seeing that her common sense approach had failed__ to take the worried look off her friend's face, she added with a touch of asperity, 'Come on, Cara! For goodness' sake! It was six years ago—and no one in their right mind would attach any importance to it. As for you haring out of that restaurant like that— well, really! If you didn't recognise the man, do you think he would recognise you? Of course not! ' She studied her critically. 'Your hair's the same
colour, of course, but the way you now wear it, twisted up into that huge bun thing, makes you look just what you are—a highly proficient qualified physiotherapist.' She grinned at this, then went on quickly, 'Also, you've lost that tan, and I defy anyone to link you now with a tropical island of any kind.'
Cara gave her a weak grin. 'From one highly proficient qualified physiotherapist to another, I thank you for the compliment. However,' she added, now solemn again, 'I entirely agree with you about the time lapse, also about anyone attaching any importance to the affair—because I certainly didn't, but if you could have heard the way the man took umbrage at the remarks passed, you'd be worried too. As for being already married—well, I doubt it. Not that he was that young or anything like that, but I have a shrewd suspicion that old chief Tu-Tu would have known this before he performed the ceremony. I know he had a few questions he wanted answering by the man, and it was a conversation carried out in French that I didn't attempt to unravel. I only know it made the man even more furious than he was before. Don't you see?' she queried of Cathy. 'Supposing he's not married, but is engaged to this girl—and just supposing he's not absolutely sure whether the ceremony old Tu-Tu performed was in fact legal?'
'Oh, Cara! ' broke in Cathy indignantly. 'He can't be that dumb!' she insisted. 'He said he was going to report him to the authorities, didn't he? Well, he would have been reassured on this point, for a start.'
'But supposing he didn't have time to see any-
one?' persisted Cara. 'He was going back to the U.K. the next day, wasn't he? It wouldn't leave him much time to arrange an appointment. Besides,' she mused thoughtfully, 'it would have been a bit embarrassing for him, wouldn't it? I was missing for three days, remember, and I hadn't attempted to explain to Tu-Tu that he'd only found me that morning, so he couldn't have had much hope of my backing up his statement where the Governor was concerned.'
'Well, that's it, then! ' said Cathy with a gleam of enlightenment in her eyes. 'Embarrassment , of course! It's hardly the sort of thing one would want brought out when one was engaged, would it? Still, I don't think he's going the right way about it at all if he's trying to hush it up. It will only make more out of it than there really was. Women love mysteries, and this Paula is no exception, I'll bet. One whiff of intrigue and she'll be on the trail like a foxhound. He doesn't,' she told Cara dryly, 'seem to be very well informed on the feminine character. What a pity you couldn't have gone over to their table and introduced yourself,' she added with a grin. 'Particularly as you seem to be so sure that that Pierre was the same Pierre the old chief married you to. Mind you, it would have caused a bit of a sensation if it wasn't the same man,' she chuckled.
Cara gave her an exasperated look. 'If I hadn't been sure, I would have stayed in the restaurant,' she told her crossly, 'and not hared out like that. I'm not that much of a harebrain, am I?' she demanded. 'As for introducing myself,' she visibly shuddered, 'if it had been you, I suppose that's just what you would have done, but not me. I was so
shaken and so appalled that anyone could have taken such an attitude towards what could be termed as a farcical interlude that I just took off. What's really worrying me is that he might be going back to the island to make some enquiries. For all I know he might be worried about this Paula finding out, especially if he intends to settle there. It was a farewell do, remember, and,' she added grimly, 'can you imagine what effect such enquiries would have on my job? The island isn't all that large—and he knows where the village is.' She gave Cathy a gloomy look. 'It would be a good start for me, wouldn't it? No matter how you look at it, it's bound to start some kind of speculation should the wretched business ever come to light.'
'Well,' commented Cathy ruminatingly, 'from what you've told me, this Pierre is as anxious as you are to forget the whole business. Honestly, Cara, I shouldn't worry about it. Chances are he won't bother to make any enquiries—not unless he's looking for trouble.' She brightened as a thought struck her. 'Perhaps he's just got a job out there, too, and if so, he'll be as anxious as you are to bury the past. I think you're making mountains out of molehills, dear,' she said gently. 'I admit you've had a shock, but for goodness' sake keep things in perspective. You'll probably never see him again and in a few months' time you'll be wondering why you got so worked up.'
CHAPTER TWO
THE following morning when Cara sat in the airport lounge waiting for her flight, she listened a little absentmindedly to Ermyntude's vague meanderings on how she must write to her as soon as possible, and to be sure to give her regards to her Uncle Theobald for her, and how she wished she were not going so far away.
Cara said, 'yes', or 'no', in the appropriate places, smiling a little to herself at Ermyntrude fussing over her, but her thoughts were elsewhere, centred on the island she was returning to after so long away. There was a sense of excited anticipation, much as one would have when returning home.
Her earlier fears of a meeting with the man named Pierre had vanished with the morning light. She had Cathy to thank for this, her good sense and sound reasoning had dispelled her worries. She was right, of course, Cara mused, and she couldn't think why she had let herself get into such a panic for nothing. It must have been the shock of hearing about it after so long that had slightly unbalanced her reasoning; she was not usually so stupid.
As she watched some late arrivals rush through the lounge towards the checking-in counter, she thought how lucky she had been in getting the job she had applied for at her father's old hospital. The fact that her father had worked for the hospital had
, given her application added leverage, she knew, and she was grateful for it. Cathy too had the job she wanted, working for a rather exclusive health farm somewhere in the wilds of Norfolk, and not too far from her home town, and she had promised Cara to take a trip out to see her one summer during her holiday period.
With a small sigh of happy anticipation, she glanced up at the departure board. Her flight should soon be announced. She turned her full attention back to Ermyntrude who had not been talking for a few seconds, and found her studying a man and a woman who had just entered the lounge.
'I say,' said Ermyntrude in a stage whisper, 'isn't that Paula Ericson, the concert pianist?'
Not having the slightest idea of whether Er
myntrude was right or not, Cara could hardly confirm the question, but looked at the woman anyway. She was tall, dark, and very lovely, and was dressed in a cool shantung silk suit of burnt orange colouring. r Ermyntrude could be right at that, Cara thought, for there was a certain air about the woman that spoke of an aplomb that comes from constant stage appearances. It wasn't that she asked for attention, her looks alone would have guaranteed this. It was that indefinable something that separated the successful from the unsuccessful, no matter what profession they followed.
I'm certain it is!' said Ermyntrude, now sounding excited. 'Oh, I wish I'd got the courage to go up and thank her for the immense pleasure her music has given me,' she sighed.
Cara was about to suggest that she was sure she
wouldn't mind such congratulations, for if she were Paula Ericson then she must be used to such attention, when her eyes were drawn to the man beside the concert pianist, who at that moment had turned to look at the departure board, and Cara was able to see his face quite clearly. One look was enough to dispel the encouragement she had been about to give Ermyntrude, for the man was the last man Cara wanted to meet, accidentally or otherwise!
Cara's whole attention was now directed on the man as he spoke to his companion. As Ermyntrude was certain that the woman was Paula Ericson, so Cara was certain of the identity of the man beside her. The autocratic manner he had of raising his eyebrows was one thing she did remember about him.
`Still,' went on Ermyntrude. 'it would be rather an imposition, wouldn't it? It's not as if she'd just given a performance, is it? She has some privacy; it's just that I have such an admiration for her work.' She gave a little gasp as a thought struck her. 'Do you think she might be travelling on the same plane as you?' she asked Cara.