by Hilary Wilde
When it was Kate's turn to have a lesson, she felt clumsy and nervous, but Simon was as patient with her as he had been with Nancy, showing her how to adjust the face mask and flippers.
Once in the water, she was startled at how lightly she seemed to walk, her arms and legs moving like palm fronds in a gentle breeze. Suddenly Kate felt happy, her hand in Simon's, as they moved silently through the warm water, surrounded by the little fish, all so many bright colours. Simon pointed out a parrot fish and a tiny purple fish, he showed her the bright canyons of coral and the sea anemone's gently-moving petals. He showed her caverns with pillars of pink and white and purple alabaster, and emerald and sapphire-coloured fish, sea-urchins as big as footballs,
and sea-horses as small as shrimps. It was a strangely unreal time for Kate, her hand in Simon's as they moved, partners in the wonderful new underwater world, but as they surfaced, the world of fantasy in which she had been so happy vanished.
`Your turn, Mike,' Simon called, turning away from Kate, showing plainly that the moments that had been so wonderful to her had meant nothing to him.
Kate and Adam walked back to the big house together, taking their time, walking in the shade. Nancy and Mike were untiring in their desire to master the intricacies of underwater swimming and persuaded Simon to stay on.
`Quite a feast last night,' commented Adam as he and Kate strolled beneath the palm trees. 'It certainly had everyone talking,' he added casually.
Kate stiffened. She made herself walk on, looking straight ahead, for she was afraid of what Adam might see in her eyes.
`How d'you mean?' she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
`Well, in the first place Simon's surprised look when he found he'd chosen you as the Queen of the evening,' Adam went on, holding back a low branch for Kate to walk on the path. 'What made you choose the lime-green lily, Kate ?' he added casually.
`I don't know,' said Kate, trying to remember. 'It was a very pretty colour.'
`And had a delicious scent. Did you notice that ?' Adam asked.
Kate nodded. 'Now you mention it, I did, but I
didn't think anything of it at the time. Why ?'
Adam chuckled. 'I just wondered. You see, that lime-green lily is always worn by Caterina.'
`Caterina?' Kate echoed, her body suddenly tense as she remembered that it had been Caterina who pointed out the lime-green lily, Caterina who had said that Kate must choose that one as she thought it so beautiful.
`Yes. Simon knows that scent and always chooses that flower. It's quite a joke on the island, because they see it as a sign that one day Caterina will be the Queen of the island, just as Simon is the King.'
`Everyone thinks they'll marry?' Kate said, her voice light.
`It's obvious, isn't it?' said Adam. 'Didn't Caterina tell you when you chose the lily that it was her usual choice ?'
Kate shook her head. 'No. Perhaps ... perhaps as I'd chosen it, she didn't like to ...' She hastened her steps, glad to see the big house so close. 'Adam,' she turned to him, 'I've got an awful headache.'
`I am sorry,' he said at once. 'You'd better go and lie down, then. If you're no better later, Tehutu can bring up your lunch.'
`I think I'd like that,' Kate said, and smiled, conscious that it was an unsteady smile, as she hurried to the big house, up the stairs and into the blessed quiet of her bedroom. Here she could lock the door and fling herself face down on the bed.
Caterina had planned it all — to punish Simon. It had been Caterina who had said Kate must wear the lime-green lily — Caterina who had suggested it in the
first place — Caterina who had pushed her forward when Simon chose the lime-green lily. No wonder Simon had been surprised when the sash that had blindfolded him was removed and he had seen Kate standing there.
But then, Kate realized, Simon had taken his revenge. That must be why he had kissed her passionately, had held her so tightly — because he had wanted his revenge on Caterina for the trick she had played on him.
Why, oh, why, Kate asked herself, had they to hurt her in order to hurt each other? Why use her as a weapon ? But it was too late to ask questions that could never be answered, for the damage was done. The kiss had awakened her, had made her understand many things for the first time, for now she knew what it meant to be in love.
A gentle knock came on the door and Jerome called : `Are you all right, Kate ?'
Kate sat up quickly. `Just a bad headache, Jerome. I'll be all right!' she called back.
`Like us to send up your lunch ?' he asked.
`Please,' she said, her voice slightly unsteady.
`Kate, is . . . is something wrong ?' Jerome sounded anxious.
`Nothing at all . . . honestly,' Kate told him, feeling instantly guilty, for she knew how important it was to Jerome that they should all be happy. 'I think maybe the sun . . . or the drinks last night. I'll be all right this afternoon, Jerome. Really I will,' she called to him.
`All right, then. See you later,' he said.
Kate stood up and straightened her crumpled frock.
She went to the wash-basin and bathed her face in cold water. Then she drew the curtains to shut out the blinding sunlight, unlocked her door, and lay down with her eyes closed.
This was something to be faced. She could not just walk off the island and out of their lives. Jerome would be terribly hurt and would blame himself for having brought them there in the first place. She must find a way to live with this . . .
She must have slept, for when she awoke, Tehutu was by her side, the tray in her hand, a deliciously light cheese souffle on a plate.
Kate was surprised to find she was hungry, and after she had eaten, she showered and changed into a cyclamen pink cotton frock. Feeling somewhat guilty, she hurried downstairs, for there was so much work waiting to be done, but in the hall was a note for her from Adam.
`I hope your headache is better, Kate, but in case you feel energetic, forget it. The office is closed, as Nancy and I are being taken to see the building sites.'
Kate felt relieved. It would be easier to watch Caterina and Simon together if she had a few more hours first in which to get control of herself. On an impulse, she ran upstairs to fetch the studio key. Soon she was sitting in the annexe to it, curled up in a chair and reading one of the diaries.
Kate's own pain made her understand even more keenly the anguish Adele Scott felt after her husband's death.
`There are times when I wonder why I go on living,' Kate read. 'My life no longer has any mean-
ing. The loneliness is more than a human being can endure. Why did he die ? Why am I alone ? I ask myself a hundred times, nay, a thousand times a day. I hear the girls laughing and singing and I wonder if I shall ever smile again. One day, yesterday to be precise, I was feeling like that and I went for a walk. I found a narrow path that must have been trodden by Polynesian feet for more years than I shall ever know and I found this marea — the Polynesian word for temple. And then I saw a tiki — their word for god, and they have a great many gods. This tiki, however, was different. The tikis are carved out of great chunks of stone and are square and ugly and stern. This tiki smiled. Immediately I felt better. Now when I fight the tears I shall take a walk to the little waterfall by the frangipani tree and perhaps the tiki's smile will help me.'
Kate lowered the diary, closing it gently. Never had she heard of a smiling tiki. They were hideous, cruel-looking creatures. Perhaps Mrs. Scott's smiling tiki could help her?
Quickly locking the door of the studio, Kate went upstairs to put away the key and to change into some flat-heeled shoes. She put on a large shady pink hat that matched her frock, as she knew it would be hot in the sunshine.
It was very still in the big house as she left it and she thought the Polynesian girls were probably resting in their own quarters. Simon must have taken Nancy and Adam to the building sites, Kate decided, as she walked along the garden path, past the thatched summer house, the wide beds of tropical, scented
flowers in their blazing colours of deepest crimson,
flamboyant scarlet, bright yellow and a dark blue. Kate had a good idea where the temple must be, for the frangipani Mrs. Scott had mentioned was now an enormous tree and could be seen plainly from the garden and there was a tinkling waterfall nearby. She found the hard trodden path and was glad of the shade of the palm trees. Looking around, she thought how quiet and eerie it was. The overgrowth had been allowed to grow and sometimes it was difficult to make her way along the path. She remembered that Simon had told her that the Polynesians refused to go near these old temples as they were terrified of ghosts.
She found the tiny but deep stream that wound its way tortuously through the undergrowth after first falling steeply down the side of the mountain. The rich creamy-yellow, sweet-smelling flowers of the frangipani pulled the branches of the tree down towards the water.
The bushes were tall and thick, all covered and interlaced with vines, but finally Kate made out what must have been the walls of the temple. The air was hot and steamy and Kate's frock clung wetly to her body as the perspiration trickled down her red face before she found Mrs. Scott's smiling tiki. Even then he was covered by the clinging hungry stems of vines, and Kate tore and tore at the wiry tough tendrils helplessly, unseen thorns scratching her fingers.
It was absurd, Kate told herself, but suddenly this tiki had assumed an importance in her life out of all sensible proportion. She felt that if she could see this smiling tiki, she would know that, like Mrs. Scott, she would find a way to overcome her unhappiness and build a new happy life, as Mrs. Scott had done.
Frantically Kate tugged at the winding creepers, wishing she had a chopper or a knife to help her — she concentrated on the face of the tiki and finally, with a violent jerk, she uncovered the lower part of the face.
`Got it!' she cried triumphantly, as she saw the strong ugly features and knew Mrs. Scott had been right. There was a softening of the hard unrelenting mouth — a suggestion of tenderness.
In the same moment, she felt something run across her bare arm. She turned swiftly, her hand moving instinctively to brush off the insect, but it bit her before she saw the huge hideous creature, more like an octopus than a spider, with long hairy legs.
Even as the stinging pain shot up her arm, Kate shook it violently and the spider fell to the ground. Kate turned blindly to run away, fighting an absurd feeling that the spider would chase her.
Clasping her arm firmly, Kate hurried back to the big house, remembering that Simon had constantly warned Mike to watch out for the tarantula spiders, whose bite could be fatal.
At the time Kate had thought with surprise that it was unusual for Simon to fuss about such things, but Caterina had told her later that Simon was right and that the bites were very dangerous sometimes.
Now as Kate hurried through the hot moist air, she was breathless and it seemed twice as far as it had been before. Her arm was beginning to ache and throb. She told herself it was sheer imagination, but as she stumbled up the path to the big house, she felt a wave of nausea overwhelm her.
How quiet and empty the house was — in the hall,
Kate's legs suddenly seemed to give way and she collapsed, accidentally knocking over a small table that fell with a clatter.
A door opened and Kate looked up — through blurred eyes, she saw Simon staring at her. In a moment he had covered the short distance, had bent down and lifted her in his arms.
`What's happened, Kate ?' he asked.
Suddenly she wanted to cry. She felt so safe in his arms which held her close and protectively. His face was still blurred, but she managed to speak.
. . . bitten . . . a spider . .
She was close to Simon's face and she saw it change instantly as he carried her swiftly into the drawing-room, laying her gently on one of the couches.
She felt forlorn when his arms left her — for a short moment she had felt so happy. A brief glimpse of the happiness which she knew would never be hers.
Simon was kneeling by her side, gently holding her arm which was already swollen. His face was thoughtful as he took a handkerchief from his pocket.
Not to worry,' he said quietly, using Ian's language for once, his voice matter-of-fact. 'We have so many spiders on the island, most of them harmless. All the same, it's better to take precautions . .
As he hastily tied a tourniquet round her arm, Kate felt deliciously close to him. She felt the warm firm touch of his hands on her bare skin and she tensed her body, willing it not to betray by any movement the love that she felt for him.
Simon turned his head and she found his face very close to hers.
`You're so hot, Kate. Where did you go ?'
`To the small waterfall . . . I was looking for a tiki that smiled . ..' Kate began.
She saw the quick frown on his face, felt his hand lightly resting on her forehead and she managed a smile.
`I'm not delirious Simon . .' she began.
He stood up, his face grave. lie still, Kate, there's more to this than just a tourniquet.'
He left the room, and she obeyed him, closing her eyes, feeling, despite the dull throbbing pain of her arm, absurdly happy. He was so...
Her thoughts stopped abruptly as she heard Simon return. She opened her eyes and saw that he was carrying a tray which he put on the floor by her side, kneeling again, taking her arm in his hands. He bathed the bite gently and all the area round it with a soft cloth dipped in some liquid.
`Just milk,' he said with a quick reassuring smile. `It's got to be cleaned before the next step.'
He sat back on his heels when he had finished and looked at Kate directly. The blurred vision had gone and now she could see his lean face clearly, could even see her own reflection in his eyes. It was the strangest sensation. She felt that for the first time Simon was really seeing her — as a woman. She did not know what gave her the impression, but it was strong and vivid. In his strangely-fascinating eyes she saw recognition and something else. Something like tenderness, even affection. Perhaps ...
His quiet firm voice broke the dream that she had allowed herself to play with for a moment.
`Kate, this next part isn't going to be pleasant,' Simon said. His hand closed tight and warm over hers. 'I'm going to hate doing it to you and you're going to hate every moment of it, but it's got to be done.'
He took his hand away — did something to the tourniquet, releasing it for a moment or two, then tightening it. He turned away, and when he lifted his hand, she saw that it held a small knife that smelled of some strong disinfectant.
Simon held her arm tightly, his fingers like a vice, digging into her flesh painfully.
`I'll be as quick as I can,' Simon promised, 'but it's going to hurt.'
How right he was, Kate thought, as she closed her eyes tightly, fighting the tears of pain, biting her lower lip painfully as she tried not to cry out. He worked swiftly, but it seemed like centuries to Kate, then the knife lifted and Simon's face went down to her arm, and she felt his hot hard lips over the bite, sucking fiercely. In the same moment she heard the click-clack of high heels on the polished floor and heard Caterina's voice.
`Well, what on earth are you up to ?' Caterina asked.
Simon lifted his head and spat fiercely into a basin.
`I thought I was disturbing a romantic scene,' Caterina went on, her voice sarcastic. She paused as Simon looked up at her.
`Kate was bitten by a spider,' he said curtly. 'I don't know which.'
Caterina's face changed and despite the elegant
green silk suit, she became at once the doctor, moving forward, pushing Simon out of the way.
`What did it look like, Kate ?' she said sharply.
Kate, still weak from the pain, murmured, 'It was big and very hairy.'
`By the small waterfall,' Simon put in. 'You know where the old mar ea is. I keep meaning to get it cleared of overgrowth, but ...'
Caterina was bending over Kate's arm, nodding her head thoug
htfully, adjusting the tourniquet.
`Time you cleared that part and stopped thinking about it, Simon,' Caterina said with unusual tartness. `Go and rinse out your mouth at once,' she added sharply. 'And bring the car round. Kate 'll be better in hospital.' She picked up a bandage from the tray and tied up the small wound neatly.
Kate tried to sit up. 'Just a bite ...'
Caterina's hand was firm as she pushed Kate back. `You'll do what you're told and no nonsense about it,' she said, her voice irritable.
Kate obeyed, closing her eyes as the light was hurting her. Why was Caterina so angry with Simon?
In a few moments, Kate felt Simon lift her and carry her out into the hot sunshine. She kept her eyes closed and her body stiff, for there was no tenderness now in Simon's arms. He held her lightly, almost impersonally, as if he was carrying a parcel of rubbish. She was laid on the back seat of the car and the cooler air coming through the open window as the car raced along the roads was a slight help, but Kate felt too limp and exhausted to notice.
Soon she was in bed in the hospital, a friendly nurse
undressing her, putting a dressing on her arm, removing the tourniquet, giving her an injection. And then Caterina was there, wearing her white coat, bending over Kate, taking her pulse, temperature, sounding her heart.
Caterina straightened, her face stern. 'It was stupid of you to go to that place alone, Kate. We've warned you so often.'
`I wanted to see a smiling tiki,' Kate began, and saw the same sceptical look on Caterina's face that Kate had seen on Simon. Feeling too exhausted to argue, she closed her eyes. 'I'm sorry,' she said simply.
She heard the door open and Simon's voice, so she kept her eyes tightly shut. She felt that in the state she was, if she saw Simon and Caterina smiling at one another lovingly, she would burst into tears.
`How is she ?' Simon asked, his voice sharp
`It is too soon yet to know,' Caterina replied, her voice cool and slightly contemptuous. 'There is no sign of paralysis, but . . . It was fortunate for Kate that you were in the house.'