“So the crew fears and does not respect the Captain.”
“I didn’t mean to put it so definite as that, but when an incident occurs like that, when a captain loses his ship in mysterious circumstances, he never escapes from the stigma. As I said to you before, if it had happened to anyone not connected with the Creditons, he would have lost his master’s ticket. But we don’t want to talk of that, do we. We have said all that can be said. What do you think of Sydney?”
“Interesting, beautiful beyond my expectations.”
He nodded. “And what are you going to think of the Island?”
“That’s something I can’t say as yet surely?”
“Anna, I don’t like leaving you there.”
“It’s kind of you to be so concerned. But why do you feel this anxiety?”
“Perhaps it’s because of what happened there. The ship…being blown up in the bay there.”
“I thought we had decided not to discuss the incident.”
“I’m not discussing the incident really. I’m thinking of the Island. It’s uncanny. Suppose the Captain was not concerned? Suppose someone there put a curse on the ship?”
“Oh really, you do not believe that sort of thing do you?”
“Many people don’t believe in ghosts in the bright daylight do they? But they change their minds when the darkness falls. How many scoffers would spend the night alone in a house reputed to be haunted? Well, I don’t believe in curses and spells here in Sydney, here in this restaurant with you sitting opposite me and the violins playing Mendelssohn’s Song Without Words. But on the Island it might be a different matter, and we are getting very near to the Island.”
“Who would put a spell on a ship?”
“Perhaps it went back long ago. Perhaps it wasn’t one of the islanders. There is a story about that ship. It was to be named Lucky Lady or something like that. I never heard what. But Lady Crediton named it…somewhat unexpectedly. Imagine her feelings when she named that ship. She was thinking of that woman, the Captain’s mother. She said ‘I name this ship The Secret Woman and may God bless all who sail on her.’ Suppose she did not say bless, but curse. Suppose she was the one who laid the curse on the ship?”
“You are talking like some old soothsayer. Not at all like the Purser of The Serene Lady.”
“We all have our moments of superstition, Anna. Even you will have yours, if you have never had them already. Wait until she gets to the Island, until you feel the atmosphere of the place. We shall be coming back there after a while.”
“Two months,” I said.
“And then, Anna, I shall ask you again what I asked you before, for who knows what may happen in two months?”
Then we talked of other things; he told me of his ambitions. He wanted a home in England, somewhere to come back to in between voyages. He had seen the Queen’s House. It was well-known in Langmouth. I realized it had become so after Aunt Charlotte’s death.
I think he was picturing coming home to the Queen’s House. He was trying to build up a picture for me to see. A life together—a life of serenity and perhaps happiness.
I let him talk. I hadn’t the heart to say I could never marry him.
And that night as I slept in the ship lying still in the dock I dreamed of Aunt Charlotte. She came to my room in the Queen’s House. I opened my eyes and saw her standing there, and her face was hazy and benevolent as it had rarely been in life; she was like a dream figure but the cluttered furniture of the room was lifelike.
“Don’t be a fool,” she said. “Take what you can get. Don’t go stretching out for the impossible. And how is it possible, eh? Not without disaster. Not without tragedy. You were involved in sudden death once before, my girl.”
Then in my dream I heard mocking laughter. It was Monique’s.
My pounding heart awoke me and I lay thinking of the future, the Queen’s House, and children, my children playing on the lawn. Then I slept again and strangely the dream continued. I went to the gate and there were two men standing there. And I was not sure which one I came in with.
A fantastic dream. Symbolic?
We were sailing at midday. The Glennings had come on board the previous day. They were staying for a few weeks in a hotel on Bondi Beach and asked me if I would like to bring Edward for a little outing. Edward, who was present, declared his desire to go so I accepted the invitation. They had always been very pleasant to me although I had had little to do with them.
They took us out driving and we went beyond the town and to where in the far distance we could see the hazy Blue Mountains. I was a little uneasy for I feared we should not be back on the ship in time, and I wondered what would happen if it sailed without us.
Gareth Glenning, understanding my anxiety, soothed me. “Don’t worry, Miss Brett, we’ll get back in good time.”
“If you didn’t,” said Edward, his eyes round with horror, “would the Captain sail without us?”
“Ship’s time waits for no one,” I said. “But we’ve time.”
“We are going to miss you all,” said Claire. “So much. But we’re seeing Mr. Crediton in Sydney.”
“A pity you have to go on and leave us,” added Gareth. “Still you have Nurse Loman with you.”
“The Captain is sailing with us,” said Edward proudly.
“Where the ship is he has to be,” I added.
“We’re getting near to the docks. I can see masts,” said Edward. “Look.”
“Nurse Loman is a very lively companion,” went on Claire. “We are going to miss her very much.”
“So will Uncle Rex,” said Edward. “Everybody says so.”
The Glennings smiled in rather an embarrassed way. I believed they were sorry for Chantel; and they had seen more of her in Rex’s company than I had.
I said, changing the subject: “We shall find it much cooler when we’re at sea again.” But Claire brought the conversation back to Chantel. She must have had an adventurous career. She had nursed a Lady Henrock, they believed, before she came to my aunt.
“She has talked of her.”
“A very unusual young woman.”
Naturally they were impressed by Chantel. Anyone would be. She was far more interesting than I was. I had always known that. It occurred to me that the Glennings had brought me out to talk about her. I wondered whether they knew of a case and were hoping to engage her after…I must stop being obsessed by the thought that Monique would not live long.
“We shall think of you on the Island,” said Gareth. “We’ve heard quite a lot about it.”
“From Mr. Crediton? I didn’t know he’d ever been there.”
“I don’t believe he has,” replied Gareth. “But it’s talked of on the ship. There seems to be some…bogey about it.”
“Oh Gareth, you shouldn’t say that,” said Claire, mildly reproving. “Miss Brett is going to live there.”
“Just a lot of talk,” said Gareth.
“I’ve heard the rumors. In any case if we don’t like it we can leave.”
Now we were at the docks. It was half an hour before we sailed, not a lot of spare time because the gangways would be taken up within ten minutes. I took a last farewell of the Glennings, and Edward and I went to our cabin. He was chattering about cranes and cargoes. He wanted to see us leave the dock, so I took him on deck and we remained there while the last duties were performed. We waved to the people on the dockside and the band there played and Edward skipped about with excitement until he remembered that he was leaving Australia and that Johnny was somewhere in that vast continent; then he became a little thoughtful.
He said to me in a hushed whisper: “The Captain’s guiding her, you know. He’s up there telling them all what to do.”
And that seemed to comfort him.
I wanted to see Chantel—I thought I must know how she was ta
king her parting from Rex and this would be the time to discover.
She was not in her cabin. So I went uneasily to mine.
I said to Edward: “Let’s go for a walk on deck.”
We walked, but there was no sign of Chantel.
I might have known, I thought. She’s gone. They’ve run away together. That was why she was so calm. She’s been planning this.
Edward did not know what a turmoil my thoughts were in. He was wondering what there would be for lunch.
I tried to answer his questions as though nothing had happened. I was thinking: I am going to that island alone. It was brought home to me afresh—although I had always been aware of it—how much I relied on her, her gaiety, her crazy outlook on life, her absence of sentimentality.
Of course, I thought, he would never let her go.
In a short time we should be right out into the Pacific sea and no longer see the comforting land.
And then the Island, the strange alien Island with its atmosphere of doom and curses, the Island about which everyone was warning me, without Chantel.
I left Edward in the cabin and went again to Chantel’s. Its emptiness depressed me—more than that it frightened me.
I was not as bold or as strong as I believed myself to be. I should never have come on this journey but for Chantel. I went back to my cabin. Edward began to chatter about Johnny. He still wondered what he was having for his luncheon.
I couldn’t settle. Half an hour had passed.
Soon luncheon would be served and it would be discovered that Chantel was missing.
Had she gone out and miscalculated the time? After all, it was what I had feared might happen to us. Oh no, I thought, Chantel would never do that. Chantel would never miscalculate.
But why hadn’t she told me?
I couldn’t rest. I went back to her cabin.
I threw open the door and walked in and as I did so I was caught in a firm grip and a hand was placed over my eyes. In that second I was terrified that something fearful was going to happen to me. It is amazing how many thoughts can come crowding into the mind in such a short time. I thought of Edward’s being carried out onto the deck. I thought of myself overpowered, thrown into the sea. The easiest place to commit a murder would be at sea, Chantel had said. There would be so little difficulty in disposing of the body.
Then I heard a chuckle. I tore the hand from my eyes and swung round.
Chantel was laughing at me.
My joy and relief was obvious.
“Confess!” she said. “You thought I had deserted.”
“Oh Chantel, why ever did you do this?”
“I was only teasing,” she said.
“I’ve been…horrified.”
“Flattering,” she said complacently.
“But to give me such a fright.”
“Poor Anna. You really are devoted to me, I believe.”
I sat down in her armchair and looked up at her—lovely, laughing and mocking.
“I’m a little worried about you, Anna,” she said. “You care for people so intensely.”
I was recovering myself. “One either cares for people or one doesn’t.”
“There are degrees.”
I knew what she meant. She was saying: Don’t worry about me. I liked Rex but I knew it wouldn’t come to marriage from the start. She was calm, judicial. I wished that I could be as philosophical.
“In fact,” I said, “I was thinking of myself. My emotions were entirely selfish. The idea of being on the Island alone quite frightened me.”
“That Island’s a weird place by all accounts. Never mind. I’ll be there, Anna. ‘Whither thou goest, I shall go. Thy people shall be my people.’ Has it ever occurred to you, Anna, that there are quotations to fit almost any situation?”
“I daresay that’s true. Chantel, you are…not unhappy?”
“Why? Do I look so sad?”
“Sometimes I think you hide a great deal.”
“I was under the impression that I spoke rashly without giving due thought to my utterances. At least that was your opinion of me.”
“I was thinking of Rex.”
“Rex is in Australia. We are on the high seas. Isn’t it time we stopped thinking of him?”
“I can if you can.”
“My dear, dear Anna.” She put her arms round me suddenly and hugged me.
***
Now we were out on the wide Pacific. The sun beat down on the ship and the afternoons were too hot for us to do anything but lie stretched out on the decks. Even Edward was languid.
The atmosphere had changed. We had four new passengers who were going out to one of the Pacific ports but we saw little of them; there was not what Chantel called the “house party” feeling.
Even the crew had changed. They talked about Coralle in whispers, almost looking furtively over their shoulders as they did so. The island of mystery, where a captain—their captain—had lost his ship. It was almost as though they expected something fearful to happen there.
I saw more of Chantel than I had at any other time during the voyage. She was sorry for the fright she had given me.
“Sheer egoism,” she commented. “I wanted you to know how necessary I was to your comfort.”
“You didn’t have to point that out,” I told her.
“Worrying about my affairs,” she scolded, “when your own are far more exciting.”
I was silent, and she went on: “Monique has changed. She’s, how shall I say…truculent. Soon she’ll be on her home ground. She’ll have allies.”
“You sound as though we’re going to war.”
“It might be something like that. She hates the Captain often. Then she loves him. Typical of her nature of course. Unreasoning, thinking with her emotions rather than her brain, which is not thinking at all. The setting for high tragedy. Steamy heat. It will be steamy, won’t it? Tropical nights. Stars, hundreds of them. The Southern Cross, which always sounds so much more emotional than the Plow, don’t you think? Great waving palms, banana trees and orange groves, and the sugar plantations. Just the right background for…drama.”
“And who will be the actors in your drama?”
“Monique the central character with the Captain in male lead.”
“He won’t be there. He’ll stay for three days and nights and then he will sail away for two months.”
“How tiresome of him. Well there will be Mamma and the old nurse. There’ll be you and myself. I shall just be a small part player.”
“Oh stop it, Chantel. You’re trying to be dramatic.”
“I’m sure it would have been if he had been there. I wish we could think of some way of detaining him. Blowing up his ship in the bay or something.”
I shivered.
“Poor Anna, you take everything too seriously, me included. What would be the good of blowing up the ship? He would have to get back to Sydney, I don’t doubt without delay and await instructions. No, blowing up the ship won’t do.”
“Even supposing you could do it.”
“My dear Anna, haven’t you learned yet that I am capable of anything?”
She was flippant, and her flippancy was as helpful as her sympathy had been at the time of Aunt Charlotte’s death. But I was the one who should have been comforting her. After all she had lost a lover—for I am sure he was that—not because anything really separated them, but because he had not the courage to marry her.
I could not help being delighted that she was still with me, which was selfish of me. How much happier she would have been if she had eloped with Rex and was in Sydney with him now.
I was amazed and full of admiration for her ability to hide her unhappiness—for unhappy she must be.
She gave no sign of this. She flirted with Ivor Gregory; she kept up her assiduous care of
Monique; and during the long drowsy afternoons she and I were often on deck together.
And in due course we came to the Island.
Coralle
Seventeen
It was a deeply emotional moment when I stepped ashore on the island of Coralle. I shall never forget the impression of noise, color, and heat. There had been a heavy downpour of rain which lasted only a few minutes before the sun came out and set the steam rising from the earth. The heat seemed terrific and in my cream-colored blouse and navy blue skirt I felt suffocated.
I was aware of the scent of flowers; they were everywhere. Trees and bushes were covered with scarlet, mauve and white blossoms. There were a few houses near the water—huts rather, and they appeared to be made of mud and wattle and were on props so that they were a foot or so from the ground. Several of the inhabitants had come to see the ship. There were girls in long flower-patterned cotton dresses slit up to the knee on one side to show bare brown legs, who wore red, white or mauve flowers in their hair and necklaces of the garlands. There were men in light-colored trousers, torn and tattered mostly, and shirts as colorful as the women’s dresses; some of the children wore almost nothing at all. They watched with big brown wondering eyes.
There was music coming from some of the houses, strange haunting music played on tinkling instruments.
The sand was golden and the moist green palms were very different from those dusty ones which we had seen in the East.
And as I stood there in that torrid heat I remembered that in a few days’ time Serene Lady would sail away and I should be left here…a prisoner until it returned. Here was a life of which I knew almost nothing. What was waiting for me I could not conjecture; but I fancied as I had when I first entered the Queen’s House some premonition was warning me. Beware!
I looked at Chantel standing beside me on that golden shore and was thankful for her presence as I had been many times before, and for a few brief moments, I allowed myself to imagine how I should have felt if she had deserted me at Sydney and I were now standing here without her. The thought of that raised my spirits. At least we should be together.
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