The Lion Rock

by Sally Wenteorth

  After about an hour they went back to the hotel and sat around in loungers, sunbathing until the sun went down, drinking, smoking and talking desultorily. The two men seemed to know each other quite well, they were at ease with one another and had 'in' jokes that meant nothing to Cordelia. It seemed that they had arrived in Sri Lanka more or less at the same time, Steve having signed a two-year contract with the dam construction company. Intellectually they were probably very different; Steve was a far more practical type than Marcus, a man of action who was used to giving orders and being responsible for the people under him. He was gregarious, an extrovert, whereas Marcus was more of a loner, happy to share the company of others but needing often to be quite private and alone, and never finding his own company boring. He was well read too, understandably, which Steve wasn't, and Marcus was capable of taking a conversation to far greater depths than the younger man could.

  The hotel provided changing rooms for visitors, so Cordelia was able to shower the sea salt and sun oil from her skin and change into a dress she had brought with her. It was pale yellow with a halter neck, no back at all and a full, pleated skirt. It looked good against her tan. Her hair, too, when she had dried it with the blow-dryer provided by the hotel, gleamed a lighter gold from the sun. She looked golden all over; her dress, the honey gold of her skin, her hair; she even had gold sandals for her feet.

  The men were waiting for her when she came out. As she walked down the corridor they both looked her over, the way a man does look at a woman, speculatively, his eyes going down over her body. Steve's gaze became frankly admiring, but she couldn't read Marcus's face, he had the ability to completely hide his feelings. She walked between them into the dining-room and every head in the place seemed to turn in their direction as they were shown to their table. The glances of the women were frankly envious as they saw her with the two tall, good-looking men, and those of the men weren't exactly unappreciative either, which gave Cordelia a much-needed boost to her ego.

  Their table became a centre of laughter and gaiety; Cordelia putting herself out to sparkle and amuse. Steve lapped it up, obviously enjoying himself hugely, and Marcus, too, joined in and appeared to be getting a kick out of the evening. Whether he was acting a part, Cordelia wasn't at all sure, but once or twice she caught him looking at her with an abstracted frown in his eyes. And she was definitely putting on an act, giving everything to it like a star hoping to win an Oscar. She drank quite a bit, too, but didn't even feel lightheaded.

  After dinner they went into the night club attached to the hotel arid drank cocktails based on arrack, a locally made spirit very similar to whisky. A local group played their version of the European hit numbers, much too loud, of course, but then all discos everywhere were much too loud, after a while you gave up trying to talk and just let the music wash over you, the beat get into your bones. There were other European women there, nearly all married and with their men, just here and there an odd girl watched over anxiously by her parents or two girls together who were soon dancing with some European men who were also on their own. Cordelia peered round in the comparative gloom looking for the Sri Lankan women, but the only ones who looked dark enough to be natives wore European dress and stayed close to the sides of the men they were with. There were plenty of young native men there, though; all impossibly slim and neatly dressed, and obviously on the prowl, looking for European girls to dance with. One came up and asked Cordelia almost before she'd walked into the place, but she didn't have to say no, both Steve and Marcus said it for, her.

  They guarded her like two dogs guarding a sheep—even more fiercely than the parents with their daughters, Cordelia thought wryly. But Steve explained in a lull in the music, 'Sri Lankan men and women don't dance together like we do; they think it's more or less promiscuous. But the men have seen it on the American television programmes and they go to all the night clubs hoping to get a dance. It really turns them on. If they can't get a girl they even dance with each other.'

  When the music began again Steve asked her to dance. It would have to be Steve, of course, and not Marcus, but she smiled and went with him on to the small dance floor bathed in swirling, alternating bands of coloured lights so that the dancers had an eerie, ghostlike look. Cordelia immediately became aware of all the eyes on her, watching her every move. She wished now that she hadn't worn such a skimpy dress, had worn one with a back, with long sleeves even! She tried to lose herself, to forget everything except the music, but it was impossible; she wanted to keep turning her head to look at Marcus, to see if his eyes were among those that watched her. The dance came to an end at last and they went back to their seats. 'That was great,' Steve told her, his hand on her waist. 'I haven't enjoyed dancing so much since I've been over here.'

  Cordelia managed to give him a smile of thanks, but she eagerly sat down again, hoping that Marcus would ask her next time. But he didn't seem in any hurry to do so and they sat and sipped their cocktails, using the swizzle sticks to search through the fruit and ice to find the liquid underneath. Another, extremely brave, Sri Lankan youth asked her to dance and didn't want to take no for an answer, then Steve stood up to his full height and glared at him and the poor young man melted away.

  The band changed to a slower beat and Marcus touched her arm. 'Cordelia?'

  She didn't look at him, just gave a small nod and walked ahead of him on to the floor. He put his arm round her and took hold of her right S hand, lightly, not holding her close. Cordelia's head came about level with his shoulder, but she didn't raise it to look at him; she kept her eyes fixed on the collar of the silk shirt he was wearing where it opened to reveal the dark column of his neck. They danced slowly round the little floor. Occasionally someone brushed against her, but Cordelia wasn't aware of it, all she could feel was the touch of his hands, his closeness—and yet he was so very far away. She was very tense, her nerves felt as if they, could snap at any moment. She wanted to be held close in his arms as she had been last night, to feel the warmth and strength of his embrace. Her hand trembled and she felt Marcus stiffen. Slowly she raised her head to look into his eyes. For a moment they were vulnerable and she could see the tension in his own face, then he had himself under control again and gave her a casual smile. But it was between them now, like a live thing, this emotion that he wouldn't allow to show, this desire that he had squashed before it could take fire. Neither of them spoke, the atmosphere between them was suddenly so Charged that a word could have acted like a fuse. They danced on, but there might just have been the two of them in the room, so unaware was Cordelia of the people around them. She searched his face for some sign, some acknowledgment,: but he wouldn't meet her eyes, again—like this morning—keeping his face as expressionless as a mask.

  When they sat down again, Cordelia turned her attention to Steve, asking him questions about himself while the band took a break, and getting up to dance with him without hesitation when they came back. She danced with Steve the rest of the evening, they hardly left the floor except to take a drink. Marcus sat alone at the table watching them, a brooding look about his mouth, making no attempt to ask any other girl in the room to dance. At eleven-thirty he stood up rather abruptly and said, 'We'd better be heading back.'

  'But it's early yet,' Steve protested.

  'We've a long drive ahead of us, remember?' Marcus pointed out.

  Steve looked to Cordelia to back him up, but she only said, 'I'll get my things,' so he was disappointed.

  When they went out to the car she was worried that Steve might try to sit in the back with her, so she quickly yawned and said, 'I'm tired. Would you mind if I sit in the back instead of you, Steve, so that I can stretch out?'

  He had to agree, of course; it would have been ill-mannered and obvious to have done otherwise.

  It was a very fine night, the stars were out and looked like sparkling jewels against the warm, dark velvet of the sky. Strange stars, in constellations she didn't recognise. Cordelia lay across the back seat and watche
d them as they drove along. The two men were talking, the sound of their voices rolled over her, but she wasn't listening. If they had been talking about her, she might have done, but she knew they wouldn't do that. She could see the profile of Marcus's head as he concentrated on the road, outlined by the faint glow thrown up by the dashboard lights. What was he thinking? Cordelia wondered. Did he care about her at all? She would have given everything she had to know. But apart from that one moment when they had been dancing, he was like a closed book to her, she had no idea whatsoever of his true feelings, or even whether he had any for her at all. The car bounced gently along the rutted roads, for once quiet now, and Cordelia wearily closed her eyes, the motion rocking her into sleep.

  She didn't waken until the car stopped and the lack of movement penetrated to her subconscious. Opening her eyes, she found that she was lying in a long bar of moonlight and that both men were looking over the backs of their seats at her.

  'You're home,' Steve told her, adding with a clumsy attempt at gallantry, 'You look like the Sleeping Beauty lying there.'

  Cordelia smiled and sat up, pushing her hair back from her head. 'So which one of you is going to kiss me and turn into a handsome prince?' she quipped lightly.

  Marcus grinned. 'Are you saying that we're a couple of frogs?'

  'We-l-l…' She raised her eyebrows expressively.

  He laughed and got out of the car, opened the rear door and helped her out. After having been curled up in the back of the car for so long, Cordelia's legs felt rather stiff and it was a moment or two before she followed the men over to Steve's car. Steve had been saying something to Marcus in a low voice, but he broke off when she came over.

  'You sure you won't stay the night?' Marcus said to him. 'You can doss down on the settee.'

  'Thanks, but I've got to get back.'

  'Goodnight, then.'

  They shook hands and Marcus turned and walked towards the house. Cordelia, too, offered her hand. 'Goodnight, Steve. Nice meeting you.' She half-turned to follow Marcus, but Steve kept hold of her hand. Reluctantly she turned back to him, more or less knowing what was coming.

  'Don't go in for a minute,' Steve said. 'I'd like to talk to you.'

  'I'm tired, Steve. It's very late.' Cordelia glanced over her shoulder, looking to see if Marcus was waiting for her, but he had already gone into the house. Immediately she felt a stab of anger, guessing that Steve had asked him to leave them alone together.

  'It won't take a minute. Look, I've really enjoyed tonight. I thought we might go out some other evening.'

  'Yes, of course,' Cordelia agreed lightly. 'Whenever you and Marcus are both free.' She tried to pull her hand away, but he hung on.

  'That wasn't what I meant; I meant just the two of us. In fact,' he went on with a rush, 'I've got a week's leave owing to me and I thought perhaps I could take you around the island. There are some places I haven't seen myself yet, like Adam's Peak, and we could do them together.'

  'Thanks, but I really don't want to tie myself down. And besides, I promised to help Marcus with his book in return for his hospitality.'

  'He won't hold you to that.'

  'I know, which is precisely why I intend to keep my promise. He's been very kind to us, Steve. The least I can do is to help him in any way I can.'

  He put his other hand on her waist and tried to draw her towards him. 'But I want to see you again, very much,' he told her thickly. Cordelia held herself stiffly, not wanting him to kiss her. 'Look, I enjoyed tonight, it was fun, but I've only just met you…'

  'Is there someone back in England? Is that what you're trying to say?'

  'No,' Cordelia admitted. 'No one special. But it doesn't mean that I want to commit myself to —- well, to being tied down. And anyway, you know about my father; he may want to leave here and go to a hospital as soon as he's well enough to be moved. I'm sorry, Steve, but…'

  'All right, you don't have to go on; I get the message. I thought we hit it off okay,' he added ruefully.

  'We did, and I like you. But I just don't want to get involved. Right?'

  'Right. But if I phone or come over will you come out with me if you're free?'

  With a little sigh, Cordelia nodded. 'But only as long as I'm free to say no if I can't.'

  'Or don't want to.'

  'That, too,' she agreed coolly .

  Steve grinned suddenly. 'You're very determined, aren't you?'

  'I like to be independent,' she corrected him. Pulling herself free of his arms, she said, 'Goodnight, Steve. Drive back safely.'

  He didn't move immediately but watched her as she walked to the bungalow. At the door she turned and nodded to him. He lifted a hand in salute and climbed into his car. Marcus had already gone to his room; Cordelia went quietly to her own and listened to the noise of Steve's engine as the sound echoed through the quiet hills.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sugin came back the next day. Cordelia didn't sleep very well and got up early, looking forward eagerly to having breakfast with Marcus, but when she went out on to the verandah Sugin was standing by his chair, her arm along the back of it in a familiar gesture. Cordelia met the rather malicious look in the other girl's eyes and quickly looked away. 'Good morning, Marcus. Hallo, Sugin. How's your sister?' Somehow she forced herself to sound natural.

  'She is much better now. How is your father?' The returned politeness mocked back at her.

  'Coming along famously, thank you.' She sat down and poured herself some fruit juice, hoping that Sugin would go away, but of course she didn't. Smiling at Marcus, Cordelia queried, 'Work today?'

  'Unless you'd rather take the car and go sightseeing.'

  'You should go to Aukana,' Sugin put in. 'There is a statue of the Buddha there that you should see.'

  'Thank you, but I've already seen the replica in Colombo, and I think I've had quite enough of doing the tourist bit for a while. I could do with a few quiet days,' Cordelia said firmly.

  If Marcus noticed the -battle between them he didn't show it. 'Good. I'd like to get on today.' He talked to both girls impartially until they had finished breakfast and then stood up immediately: 'Let's make a start before it gets too hot.'

  Dr Matara came during the morning and said that her father was well enough to sit out on the verandah for a while each day. He also dispensed with the day nurse's visits, saying that Marcus's servants were quite able to see to the patient's needs now, but he went over her father's different medicines with Cordelia, making her responsible for seeing that he took them correctly. They took a break for lunch, but Cordelia said she wasn't hungry, instead putting on her bikini and finding a secluded patch of the garden where she sunbathed until it was time to get back to work.

  Marcus was much the same as he had been before their trip to Sigiriya; friendly, willing to converse intelligently on any subject she chose, he even flirted with her a little once or twice, but he made no attempt to kiss her again and there was nothing behind it; he made sure she knew that.

  After dinner they both went in to see James Allingham, but after a while the two men began to play chess. Cordelia tried to read a book but couldn't settle to it, so she excused herself and went for a walk in the garden, somehow feeling that neither man was sorry to see her go. Any faint hope she might have had of Marcus joining her died when she saw Sugin still in the house, her small, curvaceous figure outlined by the electric lights as she moved from room to room shutting the windows.

  The next day passed very similarly except that Steve phoned in the early evening, before dinner. Cordelia was in her room and quickly slipped on a bathrobe over her underwear when Marcus knocked on her door. 'Steve's on the line,' he told her. 'Wants to know if you'd care to spend the evening up at the Expatriates Club.'

  'Will you be going?’

  He shook his head. 'I've promised to give your father a chance to get his revenge at chess.'

  'Then I won't go either, thanks.'

  'Why not, Steve will take care of you?'

&n
bsp; 'No. I don't want to go alone.'

  A shadow crossed Marcus's face and he kept his eyes fixed on hers, as if willing himself not to let his eyes wander down to where her robe had slipped open a little and revealed the white valley between her breasts. 'How would you like it if we all went there tomorrow evening, then?'

  Cordelia nodded and said a little huskily, 'Yes, I'd like that.'

  'Okay, I'll tell Steve.'

  When Marcus had said that they would all go to the Club, Cordelia had thought that meant him, Steve and herself; she hadn't realised that it also included Sugin. She went eagerly out to join him, looking forward to being alone with him on the journey to the dam site—and even more to the return journey home, but all her hopes fell ludicrously when she saw the Sri Lankan girl, dressed in a blue spangled sari, waiting in the hallway.

  Trying desperately not to let her disappointment show, Cordelia smiled brightly and followed them out to the car. At least she got to sit in the front seat beside him, although Sugin's presence in the back, as quiet as Steve's had been talkative, was just as inhibiting. The drive to the dam site took about half an hour, but it was dark before they set off, so there was nothing to see. At this time of night the roads were still busy with people going home from work in the plantations and Marcus had to drive carefully, dodging the unlit bicycles and the transport lorries from the tea factories, loaded down with the people who were packed in far more closely than any cattle truck would be in Britain; at home, Cordelia reflected, if animals had been discovered packed in that tightly it would have made newspaper headlines and the whole country would have been up in arms!

  They got to the Expatriates Club about eight-thirty and Steve was waiting to meet them. He immediately appropriated Cordelia for himself, taking her arm and drawing her into a big room where there was a bar along the whole length of the narrower wall and a largish space set aside as a dance floor. Tables were set out around the rest of the room and most of them were occupied. There seemed to be a majority of men in the room, all European in appearance, and Cordelia was surprised to see quite a few white women as well as several Sri Lankan girls.