Red as a Rose

by Hilary Wilde

  Down in the cabin, however, she hugged Valerie warmly.

  "Darling, I'm so glad for you," Elinor said. "It's wonderful .. ."

  "Isn't it?" Valerie said, her face radiant. Then she thought of something and put her hand on Elinor's arm. "Elinor—you will be an angel and

  write to Max for me, won't you?" she said appealingly.

  What could Elinor say to such a question at such a time?

  Up in the pretty little writing-room with its unusual walls, she wrote the difficult letter.

  "I am most terribly sorry, Max," she finished. "I know how hurt you must be. Valerie asks me to tell you how sorry she is, but she is sure you will understand. It would be a terrible thing to marry a man you did not love, simply because he asked you to

  . . Hugh is a good man and kind, Max, and they will be engaged six months so that Val can be really sure, this time."

  It was with great relief that she sealed the envelope and went down to the purser's office to post it.

  The Landfall Party was a great success and if some of the gay revellers were hiding sore hearts, they were well hidden. Elinor danced with Hugh and Kit and the diplomat and the ship's Third Officer and with many others. She laughed and joined in the singing and it seemed as if the evening would pass off all right and without any unpleasantness at all, until the moment when Kit led her out of the verandah cafe and on to the wind-blown deck.

  Elinor's hands flew to her hair instantly. It had become a mop. His arm round her, he guided her to a corner, sheltered from the wind. It was dark and chilly and his arm stayed round her shoulders.

  "Elinor . .. I must know," he said urgently. "In a moment, Hugh and Valerie are going to annouce their engagement. You are sure you don't mind? You weren't in love with Hugh?"

  She could not see his face but the warmth of his arm seemed to burn her back. She let herself lean against it for a moment. Then she drew herself away stiffly.

  "What good can you do if I was in love with him?" she asked defiantly. "In any case, Kit, I keep telling you that I was never in love with Hugh."

  "If only I could believe that . . ." From the darkness, Kit's voice came. He sounded worried. "I don't want you to be hurt," he said simply.

  "Nothing that Hugh can do could hurt me . . ." she managed to say.

  "And Max . .. ?" he asked.

  "Oh, please, Kit .. . why must you always harp on Max?" she said irritably. She was suddenly very near to tears. What would happen if she told him the truth? If she said that he himself was the only man she loved.

  She could bear it no longer. "We'll miss the announcement if we don't go back . . ." she said and turned towards the café door. Kit was close behind her. As the door opened and a wave of bright lights, noise and music hit them, she glanced up into his face and wondered at the strained unhappy look she saw there—and then she forgot it as she saw Valerie waving to them excitedly.

  After Hugh had made the announcement, there was champagne all round. Mrs. Anderson had been

  brought up for the occasion and she smiled and beat time to the music with her hand.

  "The doctor says I'll soon be dancing again . . ." she said, laughing to Elinor. "Imagine it, at my age!"

  "I bags the first dance, Mother . . ." Kit said, smiling at her.

  "And I the second," Hugh chimed in. "What do you think of my future bride?" he asked proudly, holding Valerie's hand tightly.

  "I think she's charming," Mrs. Anderon said warmly. "And that you are a very lucky man. I only wish . . ." she added wistfully, "Valerie, that your nice sister could have fallen in love with my son. I should have loved her for a daughter-in-law . . ."

  For a moment there was an appalled silence and Elinor's cheeks were the colour of red peonies as she looked wildly round her for escape.

  "Unfortunately she didn't . . ." Kit said smoothly and the music began so that he could hold out his arms to Elinor and sweep her out on to the floor.

  "I am sorry Mother had to make such a remark," he said stiffly as they danced. "I'm afraid it embarrassed you."

  Elinor kept her eyes downcast, unaware that her long dark curly lashes on her now pale cheeks were very lovely. Her mouth trembled a little. She looked very young and vulnerable. "I'm afraid it embarrassed you .. ." she murmured.

  "I'm used to my mother . . ." he said and tried to laugh.

  "Kit . . ." Elinor looked up at him, her eyes wide and appealing. "Please don't talk . .. let's just dance . . ."

  He looked first startled and then annoyed. "All right," he said.

  In silence they danced. Elinor kept her eyes closed, giving herself up entirely to the dance, knowing that this might be the last time she would ever be in his arms . . . there was a choking lump in her throat as she faced the truth.

  As soon as it was over, she slipped away down below to her cabin, hastily undressing, sliding into bed. The ship was rolling rather heavily and she wondered if, after they left Perth, it would be rough as she had been told it sometimes was. She was awake when Valerie came to bed but she pretended to be asleep. She felt that she could not bear it if Valerie wanted to talk about Hugh and how wonderful he was .. .

  In the morning, they had to be up early. At six-thirty in the lounge, they queued to go through to the immigration officials who sat in the verandah café to stamp passports and take the cards. Valerie and Elinor had gazed at the big freighters they were passing as the ship moved majestically in towards Fremantle. The sun was very bright in the blue sky, the water calm and peaceful-looking. The town itself looked very white and clean.

  At breakfast, Hugh, Valerie and Elinor were alone.

  "I hate to leave you like this, Elinor," Valerie said worriedly.

  Elinor smiled at her. Even the dining-salon felt cold and unfriendly ; an atmosphere of departure hung in the air. "I'll be all right."

  "You could have come with us," Hugh said. "Mother would love to see you but . . ."

  "Aunt Aggie . . ." Elinor finished for him with a smile. "She'll be expecting us and . . . and we couldn't disappoint her . . ."

  "You will be all right?" Valerie persisted. Elinor laughed. "Of course I'll be all right. Haven't I got your Third Officer?"

  They were still laughing when Kit appeared. He looked stern and aloof. "Elinor--we're just leaving. Do you want to say goodbye to my mother?"

  "Of course." Elinor was on her feet, dismayed with the realisation that in moments Kit would have gone . . .

  She kissed Mrs. Anderson warmly. The rather wistful-eyed woman was in her wheelchair, clutching her handbag. "Dear girl," she said, "I do hope you'll be all right. I hate to think of you all alone on the ship . . ."

  "You know what I mean . . ." Mrs. Anderson looked as if she wanted to say something more and then gave a quick nervous glance at Kit's cold face as he waited. "So this is goodbye, Elinor . . . No, au revoir . . ." she said hastily. "So soon as Aggie can spare you, you must come and visit us . . ."

  "Thank you, I'd love to . . ." Elinor said stiffly. "Where is Alison? I didn't say goodbye to her."

  "She's gone on . . . We're meeting her at the airport," Kit said curtly.

  Pat, the nurse, began to push the wheelchair. Kit held out his hand to Elinor. All round them there were people. The dock was crowded with cars and people and already the great cranes were moving slowly.

  Elinor's hand felt very small in Kit's firm grasp.

  "Goodbye, Elinor," he said gravely. "I hope things will sort themselves out all right for you."

  "Goodbye, Kit . . ." she said solemnly and heard her voice thicken perilously. "I hope . . . hope you and Alison are very happy . . ." she said and wrenched her hand free, turning blindly and almost falling down the staircase to the safety of her cabin.

  But she was not alone for long, for Valerie and Hugh arrived, to collect Valerie's luggage, to insist that Elinor must go ashore, Hugh buying her ticket for a bus trip round the city, and there was only time for one last bear-hug from Valerie, and a warm kiss from Hugh .. .

  "W
e'll be seeing you soon. I can only keep Valerie for two weeks at home for I have to be back in Sydney at my job," Hugh explained. "See you soon, Elinor . . ."

  Elinor stood on the ship's deck, watching them run down the gangway, seeing the way Hugh looked after Valerie, how he helped her into the taxi—and a cold desolation swept over her.

  Now she was really alone .. .

  Rather than spend a day by herself on board, she went on the bus trip, trying to find interest in the town, admiring the great beaches, the beautiful river, the very white clean-looking houses. She was back

  on board soon after lunch, having seen the Swan River, the beautiful, unusual War Memorial and the truly amazing University. It was a lovely town, but she was not in the mood to enjoy anything at that moment.

  Alone in her cabin, it seemed empty. All signs of Val's untidiness had gone, and with it the warmth of her companionship. Elinor tried to read but her eyes smarted with unshed tears and so, in the end, she let herself lie there, gazing miserably at the ceiling, trying to face the lonely life that lay ahead of her . . .

  There was a knock on the door and, as it opened, Elinor hastily sat up, her hands smoothing her rumpled hair.

  It was the stewardess, carrying a large cellophane sheaf of flowers.

  "For you," the short plump woman said with a smile.

  Surprised, Elinor took the flowers in her arms. Who would send her flowers? There were a dozen roses—a most beautiful shade of red. Could they be from Hugh? It was the sort of kind, nice thought he would have—especially as he had felt rather guilty because she was being left on her own.

  And then she saw that there was an envelope attached to the sheaf and her heart seemed to stand still as she recognised the large sprawling writing.

  Kit!

  Her hands trembling, she opened the envelope and drew out a single strip of paper.

  Kit wrote without any conventional opening.

  "What made you think I was going to marry Alison? I've never heard such nonsense in my life. Your imagination works 'too hard. What made you dream up such an idiotic idea? Alison and I have grown up together, we're cousins, more like brother and sister. There has never been any talk, or idea, of such a thing . . ."

  As she read, Elinor's knees seemed to crumple, so she sank down on the bed, trying to take in the meaning of Kit's words. He wasn't in love with Alison—, he was not going to marry her . . . not even for 'practical' reasons.

  She read on:

  "I hope you like the roses. They are called Lady Kia. Now you know why I nicknamed you that! Your cheeks are this colour when you blush—which is quite often? I've won three first prizes at agricultural shows with these roses of mine, you see, I was paying you a compliment and not insulting you as you always thought! You were jumping to conclusions, as usual."

  Elinor was half—laughing, half-crying. How typical of Kit was the letter. She lifted the roses to her cheek and gazed in the mirror at her reflection. Were her cheeks really this lovely shade when she blushed? And why had Kit noticed . . . it meant, then, that he had seen her!

  There was not much more in the note but she read it hungrily.

  "I'm sorry this is such a short scrawl but I am doing it at the airport and sending it to a friend of mine in Perth, who grows my roses. I wish . . ."

  Kit had written something here but he had crossed it out, and crossed it out again, so that, though Elinor tried to read what was written under the thick lines, she could not see. Then he had finished:

  "I hope you and Max will be very happy." And it was signed simply—Kit.

  Elinor's eyes were filled with stupid tears as she read it. So he was still sure that she would—if she was an honourable girl—marry Max. She read—and re-read—the letter again and again. It seemed to bring Kit closer to her.

  If only she had known Alison was lying . . . if she had known Kit was free.

  But what would she have done? Could she have done anything? She so badly lacked Valerie's frank open approach to things.

  The gong sounded for the first dinner . . . She would have to bath and change.

  The stewardess had brought her a long glass vase

  and, tenderly, Elinor arranged the beautiful roses in

  it. The cabin seemed full of their fragrance and

  somehow it was as if she was dressing to meet Kit .. .

  It was something of an anti-climax to go down to

  the dining-salon and find all strangers at her table.

  But they were a friendly lot and soon they had all

  exchanged names. But all the time, Elinor found

  herself stupidly but hopefully glancing towards the door .. .

  There was a dance that evening and Elinor was not short of partners, Valerie's Third Officer -being one of them. He said wistfully that life on the ship wasn't the same without the others . . . and Elinor agreed fervently.

  She slipped down to her cabin early, thankful that no one had been given Valerie's bed. She had the cabin to herself, so that she could lie on the bed and read Kit's letter again and again.

  The weather was getting cold and rough as they had said it might be through the Bight. The cabin seemed to tilt so that she was almost afraid of falling out of bed.

  She had a bad night, with recurring nightmares. She did not feel sea-sick, but then, neither did she feel her usual self. She ate little breakfast, hurrying up to the deck, huddled in her warm duffle coat, a red scarf tied over her hair. She lurched as the ship rolled, found herself almost walking up hill one moment and then running down the deck the next. It was the strangest feeling. The sea was rough, spattered with white waves. She could see the coastline clearly. If only the ship would hurry—hurry . . . Every moment on it made her remember Kit so vividly.

  How different it all was. Gone was the glamour, the warm sunshine, the holiday spirit. Everyone looked miserable, huddled in warm clothes, crowding the lounge and verandah café for hot drinks.

  She stood near the rail, gripping it tightly, the cold wind biting her face. How different the voyage might have been had she known that Kit was free . . . that Alison was lying . . . that there was no marriage planned. Had she known Alison was lying . . .

  And then, suddenly, as if a veil had been lifted, she knew something. If Kit had known that she was free . . . if Kit had not thought she was in love with Max . . . promised to him ... would he have behaved differently?

  She drew a long breath, seeing again Kit's stern face as he reminded her of Max and of Max's love for her .. .

  If Kit had known that it was Valerie who Max had loved .. .

  She turned to hurry below, almost falling down the stairs. She knew what she must do. There had been too many misunderstandings, too much hiding of the truth. Hugh would have to learn in the end that it was Valerie whom Max had loved—but Hugh would understand, and forgive Val's little deception. Probably Val had told him the truth already.

  Loyalty to Val had seemed all-important—but wasn't there also loyalty due to Kit? And to herself? Suddenly she knew that she must be as honest as Kit had been. He had told her there was nothing between him and Alison. Now the least she could do in return was to tell him that she was free—the rest depended on Kit. He might not, be interested but . . .

  It was not easy to find the right words. In the end, she wrote simply :

  Max Valerie's stop never mine stop love Elinor.

  After she had sent the cable and gone back to her cabin, she was uncertain again. Should she have left out the word love? Was that a little too . . . ? Should she have cabled at all? Was it just waste of time? Would Kit merely be amused? .

  How slowly the days dragged, Elinor thought, as she paced the decks or spent the time with the Keets, who were going on to Sydney. She found some comfort in the sweetness of small Sally and the baby, telling Sam and Petula to leave the infants with her and spend the time enjoying themselves. It helped to see their pleasure in being free for a little while—and it made the long evenings pass when she spent them in t
he Keets' cabin, watching the sleeping children and letting herself indulge in day dreams

  They were her babies and she was just putting them to bed, waiting for the sound of Kit's footsteps in the hall. Then she would leap to her feet, run to welcome him with arms wide open, and then she would find his slippers and make him sit down in the most comfortable chair, and she would pour him out a drink, and put his pouch and pipe by his side and . . .

  Then about this stage, she would let out a long

  sigh and tell herself that she would only get hurt if

  she went on weaving such foolish, impossible dreams.

  At last they were near the end of the wearisome

  lonely days and, as Melbourne approached, she

  hurried up to be on the deck. She stood in the cold

  wind, hardly seeing the people around her, gazing

  the white buildings that gradually became easier

  to see. There, ahead of her, lay the background of tier new life. Hope dies hard and she wondered if there might be a letter from Kit—or a telegram .. .

  The breakfast gong sounded, so she hurried down, though she was not hungry. All the food tasted like sawdust and she was trembling a little. What would Aunt Aggie be like? Would she come on board—or would Elinor have to make her own way to the address Aunt Aggie had sent? Aunt Aggie was a typical Englishwoman, they had said. Elinor

  L was not sure what that meant or what she would look like. Gruff. Blunt. Kind. Surely no woman who could write such a warm loving letter could be anything but nice?

  She realised that they must have docked, for the boat was no longer moving. She must go up and see if Aunt Aggie .. .

  Hastily she tipped the stewards and walked out of the dining salon into the vestibule beyond and, as she did, a man stood up from where he had been sitting on one of the couches.

  It was as if time stood still as she stared at him.

  He was just as she had remembered .. . so tall, so broad-shouldered, so very impressive. He was wearing a dark suit and, in his hand, was a wide-brimmed hat. She was surprised to see that his dark eyes were almost anxious as he came to meet her.