by Hilary Wilde
She found a vacant chair on a quiet part of the deck. She could see the blue water reflected in the lounge window. From the decks above, drifted the laughter of people practising for the sports. She ought to go up and practise . . .
Kit had told her she should not be little herself. He said people judged you on your own valuation. Well, how did she value herself . . . ?
First—she knew she was not pretty. Not like Val . . . nor beautiful with Alison's perfect features. But Hugh had told her that she should wear bright colours because she had a perfect skin And the longest curliest dark lashes he had ever seen. Was he just being kind or . . . ?
She stood up abruptly. That was just the sort of thought she must not have. It was a defeatist attitude, as Kit called it. She must believe that she was pretty and then she would be . . . she must believe she could play games well . . .
She hurried up the steep staircase to the upper deck. In a few moments, she found herself part of a group.
"Answer to our prayer—" a fat jolly young man said cheerfully. "We needed a fourth."
It was quite a shock to Elinor when the afternoon ended and she realised how swiftly the time had flown. She had thoroughly enjoyed the games, discovering that she could play quite well . . . being part of a group and liking it. It was what she needed, practising—and also mixing with others. She must overcome her shyness, must try to be like Val . . .
Valerie was in the cabin when Elinor reached it. Valerie was already changed into a slim green sheath frock. "Where on earth did you vanish?" she asked Elinor, leaning forward to gaze at her face in the mirror.
"I was playing deck quoits," Elinor said, looking at her watch, gathering her things for it was nearly time for her bath.
"See you in Kit's room later . . ." Valerie said, her hand on the door. "We're all meeting there for drinks . . ." and then she was gone.
Again, Elinor had to fight her shyness, as when she had bathed and dressed carefully in a deep carmine-coloured frock, she made her way to Kit's luxurious suite. It was her own fault but she was outside the little group—Valerie, Kit and Hugh made a threesome, into which they kindly admitted Elinor.. .
But the welcome she got reassured her a little. Both Hugh and Kit hurried to greet her, fussed over her until she was settled in a chair.
"Where did you get to this afternoon?" Kit asked.
"She was playing on the boat deck . . ." Valerie said cheerfully. "We fussed for nothing . . ."
"Fussed?" Elinor repeated slowly, looking puzzled.
Hugh smiled. "You just vanished. After the committee meeting, we went back to find you and you had gone."
"You see, Elinor .. ." Valerie said, holding Kit's hand steady as he lighted her cigarette for her, "Kit was worried about you. He was afraid you'd gone down to your cabin in miserable loneliness . . ." She laughed but the words had a sting for Elinor.
Her cheeks were hot as she answered. "I thought I needed some practice so I went up on the boat deck. We played quoits most of the time . . ."
"I knew you'd be all right," Valerie said lightly. "I said to them, leave Elinor to enjoy herself in her own way—even if we do think it is a rather funny way
Before Elinor could say anything, the door opened and Mrs. Anderson, in her chair, was wheeled in by a tall, blonde girl in nurse's uniform, who smiled at Kit and then left them. Kit went to greet his mother and wheeled her to a space near Elinor.
In a few moments, Elinor and the older woman were deep in conversation. Elinor liked Mrs. Anderson more each time she met her but, at the same time, her ears vainly sought to overhear what the other three were talking about. Even as she told Mrs. Anderson about life in Johannesburg and how beautiful Pretoria was in jacaranda time, Elinor was wondering what Valerie could have said to make Hugh and Kit laugh so much. It was almost a relief when Alison came to join them, causing the hilarious conversation to die down, bringing her usual dampener on the scene. Elinor noticed how deftly Hugh took control of the conversation, making it more general, including Elinor and Mrs. Anderson in it.
It was quite a relief when the dinner gong sounded and the nurse appeared to fetch Mrs. Anderson who preferred to eat in her own cabin.
"Why does Alison always look so disapproving?" Elinor asked Hugh as they walked down the corridor together. Kit and Valerie had led the way, with Alison walking close behind, talking to Kit, deliberately ignoring Valerie.
Hugh chuckled. "I think she was born with that expression . . ." he said and tucked his hand under Elinor's arm. "Don't let it worry you."
"I won't . ." Elinor promised, but it 'was a hard promise to keep.
All through dinner, Alison talked, dominating the conversation, telling them about the trips round the world she had made, about a ffight to Central Africa once to go on a big game hunting trip, about the last time she was in London and was presented to the Queen. All the time, she kept making tiny jabs at the other two girls, implying that they had led a very narrow life, that they must envy her. Elinor noticed how very quiet Kit was. How thin his mouth looked, the ominous white line around it. With whom was he angry?
After coffee in the lounge, they all played Ilouseyhousey' and Elinor found herself enjoying the game, although at first she had been nervous lest she could not play it. The evening flashed by and when they went down to their cabins, she. realised how very much she was enjoying the voyage.
It was like being transported to fairyland. Nothing seemed quite real. Maybe it was the luxury—the wonderful food—the music—the beautiful sea—the friendliness of the people—the amusements . . . Maybe it was the fact that for two weeks they were enclosed in this little world with no outside distractions, no need to set the alarm to call. you in the morning, no need to hurry to work, worrying lest. it rain and ruin your only decent pair
of shoes, no standing in a bus, no eating sandwiches for lunch. She felt like a new person . . .
The days began to slip by—each one as wonderful as the last.
"It's done you good . . ." Kit said one evening, as he strolled along the deck with her. "I told you I'd teach you to enjoy yourself . . ." he added.
Elinor caught her breath. The moon was reflected in the dark water, a shimmering pathway. Distant music made a perfect background—a romantic background, she thought wistfully.
"I am enjoying myself," she said rather flatly, aware that he was staring down at her curiously.
"There's still something wrong . . ." Kit said very slowly. "Something worrying you, Elinor. What is it?"
She turned her head away so that he should not see her face. Wrong with her? There was only one little thing that was wrong with her. He would be horrified if he knew. But it was not his fault that she had fallen hopelessly in love with this big impressive man.
"There is nothing wrong . . ." she said softly, tightening her mouth.
"You can be as stubborn as a mule .. ." Kit said, but he sounded amused rather than cross. "You and Mother get on well, don't you?"
This was a safe topic of conversation so she snatched at it.
"I think she is a darling . . ." They stood by the rail, watching the water dancing.
There was silence. Apart from the distant sounds of music and laughter, it was very still. They might have been completely alone. Kit's arm brushed hers as they stood side by side and she wondered if he could hear the pounding of her heart. It was wonderful to be out here alone with him, and yet so fruitless. For she knew that, to Kit, she was just a girl he had been asked to look after, a girl he was sorry for and intended to help. He never saw her as a pretty girl—nor had he the affection for her that he plainly showed to Valerie. Yet she had tried so hard to make him like her, Elinor thought unhappily. She had sat, happily listening for hours, as his mother told her about him, about his youth, his favourite colours—and then Elinor had worn those colours, buying fresh cardigans from the ship's shop. She had learned what subjects he liked to discuss, had even got his mother to tell her about the large sheep station he owned and had gat
hered a little knowledge about sheep so that she could talk to him intelligently.
But he never gave her a chance to do so. If she tried to be serious, he would look amused and she would find herself losing the words, saying stupid things, and that tolerant, exasperated look would come on his face and she would give up, knowing it was hopeless trying to impress him.
Now it suddenly seemed to her that she must be boring him, that he was longing for an excuse to return to the dancing.
"Will your mother ever walk again?" she asked, saying the first thing that came into her head.
"Of course she will—" he said, almost curtly, and she sighed inwardly, for again she had said the wrong thing.
"She says .. . she says that the doctors believe she will be better once she is at home . . ." Elinor struggled on.
"Of course she will," Kit said, still curtly, as if it was a stupid remark to have made.
They were silent again. Mrs. Anderson had told her how she had fallen while visiting friends in South Africa, how she had lain months in hospital, had seen specialist after specialist, and no one seemed to know why the hip bone would not heal. In the end, they had decided she should go home to Australia. It might be that she was unhappy, there . . . that in Australia, she would feel more relaxed. Mrs. Anderson had told Elinor how lonely and unhappy she had been, how she fussed herself over making the long journey alone—for she was not allowed to travel by air—and how thankful she had been when Kit had cabled that he was flying across to fetch her and had booked their passages. Apparently Hugh had come out from England on this ship and it was purely by chance that he had joined them—but Alison . . . that had been quite different. Alison had learned that Kit was fetching his mother and had flown to Zanzibar to visit an old school friend and neither Kit nor his mother had known of her whereabouts until they had discovered she was returning on the same ship with them. Mrs. Anderson did not like Alison, Elinor had learned, but she seemed resigned to the fact that eventually Alison and Kit
would marry. As Mrs. Anderson said, they had known one another all their lives, shared the same interests. In addition, Alison owned a large sheep station nearby and she would undoubtedly make him a good wife. The trouble was that Kit was a man who liked to take his time and Alison was impatient. Nearly thirty-four, Alison wanted to get married as soon as possible. Natural enough, but . . . and Mrs. Anderson had sighed. She supposed it was all right if Kit loved Alison, but he was a man not given to confidences and it was hard to tell. If only she could be sure Alison would make him happy ...
Elinor gave a quick sideways glance at Kit's grave profile. He was staring at the water, his mouth composed, his face relaxed..
"You like Hugh, don't you?" Kit asked abruptly. "Oh yes . ." Elinor said quickly. "He's so kind and . . ."
"I'm not?" His hands were on her shoulders. She shivered for a moment as he turned her to face him and then she looked up at him. "Is that it?" Kit asked sternly.
She was glad it was too dark for him to see her eyes. "You can be kind, too," she said.
"H'm . . .'.' he grunted and abruptly released her. "I'm glad to hear that. I must be improving . . ." There was an oddly bitter note in his voice. Unexpectedly he explained, "It's not very pleasant, Elinor, to know that I frighten you."
"Oh, you don't . . ." she told him earnestly. "Not anymore."
"Really?" he sounded amused for a moment. "Why ever not?"
"I think," she said slowly, "that I have learned that Hugh is right—and that your bark is worse than your bite . . ."
"Hugh said that, did he?" There was a strange note in Kit's voice. "Kind of him. So I bark a lot?"
Elinor laughed uneasily. It was difficult to know how to take Kit's moods. "Well, you do rather jump down people's throats, especially if they do something silly."
"Surely the remedy is not to do anything silly . . ." Kit said and now his voice was cool with displeasure. "We'd better go back inside . . ."
She found herself following him meekly, aware that once again she had annoyed him.
Everyone was dancing as they went inside, and Kit turned to her, but Elinor pretended she had not noticed and deliberately walked past him, going back to their table close to the window. The music ceased and as Valerie and Hugh came off the floor, Elinor smiled up at Hugh and indicated the chair by her side.
Obediently Hugh sat down, his eyes a little curious as she 'began to talk to him in an unusually animated manner, but if he was surprised, he hid it well and, for the rest of the evening, Elinor devoted herself to Hugh, being polite but distant to Kit, hardening her heart as she noticed the way Valerie seized the opportunity to have Kit to herself and made him dance every dance. Alison had found herself a tall, good-looking man who was, she had
told them haughtily, a diplomat visiting Australia. He was handsome in a dark foreign way, Elinor thought, and he had the same cold smile and hard eyes that she saw in Alison's face.
Dancing with Hugh, Elinor asked abruptly, "Is Kit in love with Alison?"
Hugh held her a little way away from him and stared down at her. "Not to my knowledge. Why?"
She hesitated. "Only . . . only his mother seems to think they will marry."
Hugh looked amused. "Kit's mother is aware of Alison's ruthless determination to marry Kit—what Kit thinks about it is no one's business. Personally I don't think Kit will marry Alison—I think he has other ideas . . ." There was a strange smile on Hugh's mouth.
Something made Elinor glance across the crowded floor. Valerie was dancing with Kit and he was smiling down at her . . . His usually stern face had a new expression on it—a tender expression. A loving expression?
Down in their cabin, as the two girls undressed for the night, Elinor was startled when Valerie suddenly said in an oddly strained voice:
"What was the idea tonight, Elinor?"
"Idea?" Elinor said, bewildered, as she slipped into shortie pyjamas.
"Yes—making a beeline for him, like that. It was
pretty obvious," she added rather scornfully. "Obvious . . . ?" Elinor echoed, still puzzled. She saw that Valerie's eyes were accusing.
"You're in love with Hugh," Valerie said.
"I am not .. ." Elinor began indignantly. She paused. She was afraid that Valerie's sharp eyes might recognise that she was in love with Kit. Valerie had a queer sense of humour—if she knew the truth, she was quite capable of making a joke of it, of even blurting it out one day to Kit himself. "I like Hugh very much .. ." Elinor said firmly, getting into her bed, pulling the clothes up to her chin. "He is a very kind man."
"Kind . .. ?" Valerie said as she switched off the light. "He can be very cruel . . ." she said and then there was silence.
It was a strange thing for Valerie to say.
CHAPTER FIVE
As THE great liner moved majestically on its journey of six thousand miles, those aboard seemed to be shuffled about until they fell into small groups and settled down. It was a strangely unreal life, Elinor felt, and yet an exciting one. Or it would have been had it not been for her love for Kit, which she was trying so hard to overcome.
Ever since the night when Valerie had accused her of chasing Hugh, the little party had seemed to move around and find fresh partners. Where, before, Kit had divided his attention between the two sisters, and his cousin Hugh had done the same, now it seemed automatically to fall into place that Hugh and Elinor were paired off while Kit and Valerie seemed content to be together. No longer did Kit insist on Elinor practising for long hours; now, he seemed almost indifferent. Now it was Hugh who practised with Elinor, Hugh who praised her, taught her to mix easily and have a good time. Now it was Hugh who was always looking for Elinor, always looking after her, too. It would have been very pleasant for she was not only fond of Hugh but completely at ease with him. The great difficulty was that her feelings for Kit were not so easy to kill.
She tried everything. She listened to his mother talking about his life, hunting for something to dislike Kit for . . . Sh
e watched him, trying to find
something she could pounce on and feel that he was someone just not worth becoming involved with.
She tried being logical. After all, she knew nothing about him—and yet she felt that she knew all about him. You didn't just meet a man and automatically fall in love. (Didn't you? her other self enquired sarcastically.) There were lots of things about Kit to be disliked—his arrogance . . . only it wasn't real arrogance, it was because he was so sure of himself. His quick temper, habit of jumping to conclusions . . . but was she any better herself? His air of amused tolerance when one did something stupid—No matter how hard she tried, she would still find herself dreaming about him, picturing his great sheep station, the sun blazing down, the groups of huge trees throwing pools of dark shade on the green grass—the long white house Mrs. Anderson had described so well—his fiery red stallion that no one else could ride—his red sports car—his garden where, hard as it was to believe, Kit spent many hours, even showing his flowers at the local Agricultural Show each year. It was a thrilling wonderful Kit that grew in Elinor's mind as every day she sat talking to Mrs. Anderson. But more than that was the fact that he was always there—how could you stop thinking about a man you saw all the time? She found it almost impossible not to look at him, the stern profile, the sudden softening of his whole face when he smiled—those dark eyes that could suddenly blaze—the deep drawling voice that could make her heart seem to turn over .. .
Alison and her diplomat had joined the small circle and Elinor found him pleasant with a rather dry humour. When Kit danced with Alison, Elinor usually found herself dancing with Alison's diplomat and he seemed a pleasant friendly man—so much so that she began to be ashamed of the quick judgement she had made of him.
One morning Elinor was on deck watching the children playing with the pink and green balloons that had been left over from the dance the night before. The balloons floated out over the sea and Elinor was laughing at the children's faces as they watched their precious trophies float away from them.