by Anne Hampson
'No? Then you must have something in your eyes.'
At this she glared at him, her dejection for the moment forgotten.
'Do you need to taunt me?' she flashed. 'What is your object? Are you getting your own back for what I did to you four years ago? If so then it's disgustingly petty!' Immediately the words were out she regretted them, since they were hardly what one would say to one's employer.
His eyes were narrowed; they flickered over her for a brief while before settling on her face. She stared fascinated at the strange unfathomable expression which she had noticed once or twice before. What were his thoughts? she wondered, Alma forgotten because the scene belonged to herself and Scott alone. It was, in some indefinable way, intimate, owing to the silence and the way Scott was looking at her, and because of her own feelings and the vital awareness that despite her anger and dejection she was acutely affected by the man by whom she was once so loved that he had asked her to marry him.
'I think, Jane,' he said at last, 'that you know me well enough to be sure I'd never indulge in reprisals. Such conduct would be disgustingly petty, as you remarked.' Soft the tone—and with an almost gentle edge to it. Jane caught her breath; it was a little sob, and her lip began to quiver tremulously again. Where was her poise?—the strength and self-assurance she had always been able to maintain in the old days? She it was who exhibited superiority—and even arrogance—in her dealings with Scott. He it was who seemed faintly lacking in self-confidence, even becoming irresolute at times. 'I think you owe me an apology,' he was saying, breaking into her unhappy musings, and she inclined her head in an involuntary gesture of agreement.
'I'm sorry,' she said in quiet husky tones. 'I don't know what made me say it.'
Scott turned from her suddenly—just as if he were unwilling to reveal his expression. His voice was still gentle when he spoke, but it was firm too, and what he said was definitely an order.
'You're going back to Coral Gables—and going to bed.' Coming round again, he regarded her intently. 'You haven't slept, have you?'
She shook her head without hesitation.
'No,' she admitted, 'I haven't.'
Again that regard as he took in the brightness of her eyes, and the quivering mouth.
'Why didn't you sleep, Jane?' he inquired softly after a pause.
'It—was the heat,' she responded, hoping that sounded feasible. He was so observant, she had several times noticed, and now she found herself fearing he might just make a guess at the real reason for her wakefulness. He shrugged his shoulders and said, without much interest,
'If you say it was the heat then it was the heat.'
She looked swiftly at him. His face was inscrutable.
'There isn't any need for me to leave,' she murmured presently, only now taking in the full import of his decision to send her home. He was anxious about her, obviously, and the knowledge acted most oddly upon her, causing a tear to fall and trickle down her cheek. Scott frowned on noticing it, and once again turned from her. She was puzzled by his whole manner. Could it be that, despite the formidable exterior she had come to know, he was still the same kind and gentle person underneath? Automatically she shook her head. No; the change was complete, Jane felt certain of this. His anxiety merely stemmed from the thought that, should he not send her home now, she might be ill and unable to come in to work for several days. This she knew would inconvenience him, and the inconvenience was his sole concern.
'I'll take you back in the car,' he said, ignoring her words. 'Go and collect your things.'
'But—' The protest was cut by his expression even before he spoke.
'Go and get your things, Jane,' he repeated, very quietly. 'I'll be outside waiting for you.'
The drive to Coral Gables was a silent one, with Scott preoccupied and Jane's thoughts once more reverting to Alma. Dejection crept in on Jane and this, in addition to the tiredness possessing her, resulted in an involuntary sigh escaping her. Scott turned his head but remained silent. She glanced at his stern set profile and remembered the kindly face she had once known. She saw again the softness of the mouth, the tender light that seemed ever to be in his eyes when he looked at her; she recalled vividly the smile which came so spontaneously to his lips whenever he and Jane met. To him at that time she was his girl, the one he dearly loved—the one with whom he was more than willing to share his life.
Jane swallowed something tight that had settled in her throat. How could she have been such a fool?
'Here we are.' The sentence was abrupt, spoken merely to break the deep silence that had endured throughout the short journey from Driftwood house to Coral Gables. 'Remember what I said—go to bed.'
'Thank you for letting me come home,' she said huskily. 'I'll be quite all right in the morning.'
He glanced indifferently at her as, leaning across her, he opened the car door. She got out and he closed it. She would have spoken, to express her thanks once more, but Scott had already let in the clutch and the car was moving away.
Les happened to come along at that moment and his expression immediately changed, concern entering his eyes as he looked searchingly at his sister.
'Something wrong?' he inquired anxiously just as she was about to explain.
'I felt tired, and Scott let me come home.'
Les's eyes widened.
'You felt tired? He knew this?'
'He guessed that I hadn't slept.' She answered dully, wishing she had been able to escape these questions.
'He must have been very observant,' commented Les, watching her closely.
Jane nodded her head.
'I wasn't concentrating on my work,' she admitted. 'He was bound to notice that something was wrong.'
'He brought you home himself?'
'That's right. I expect he thought it would be quicker than telephoning for a taxi.'
Les was still watching her intently, his expression thoughtful, and a little troubled.
'I wonder why he should be so concerned about you?' he murmured, almost to himself. 'I'm sure no other boss would have troubled to drive you home himself.'
'It wasn't far.'
'I know, but there must be some reason for his anxiety about you…' Les tailed off thoughtfully, a frown appearing on his brow. 'If he should still care—' He broke the sentence sharply, and looked at her. In spite of her efforts at calm Jane felt the colour rise in her cheeks. 'I seem to remember,' continued Les when she did not speak, 'that you evaded a direct answer when I asked how you now felt about Scott?'
Carelessly she shrugged, hoping the gesture was producing the desired effect.
'There could never be anything between Scott and me now. I told you that, Les.'
He remained doubtful, lapsing into a mood of speculation.
'I still think it odd that he's never married,' he commented at length.
'He's having a good time instead.' The words were difficult to voice and she avoided her brother's eyes as she spoke. 'He admitted to me that he prefers this sort of life to marriage.'
Les was shaking his head.
'He doesn't strike me as that type at all.'
She opened her mouth to tell him that Alma had slept at Driftwood House last night, but something deterred her. She had no wish that Les should learn of that particular incident. But she did say, unaware of the deep regret in her voice,
'He is that type, Les. I've told you, he's admitted it.'
'Strange that he should be so ready to do so, don't you think?'
It was Jane's turn to frown. She was more than tired now; she was drooping under the weight of a heavy languor which was only partly accounted for by her loss of sleep. Dejection was responsible for the greater part of it, and although a rest would bring relief, there was the inevitable awakening to follow.
'I don't quite know where this conversation is leading, Les—or what you're getting at. But if you don't mind, I want to go to bed. Scott brought me home so that I'd rest.'
'Evasion again?
' Les shrugged then and spread his hands. 'I'll mind my own business in future,' he promised, and Jane bit her lip, aware that she had snubbed him and yet unable to find any way of eradicating the slight hurt she had caused him.
'Will you see that I'm called about tea time?' she asked.
'You don't want any lunch?'
'No, thank you, Les. I'm going to try and have a long sleep.'
To her surprise she managed to sleep until she was called, but she lay for a while, her thoughts drifting to Scott, and for a few moments she dwelt on the position regarding her relationship with him. As things were, she was forced to be in contact with him for several hours each day, and she had to own to herself that, before very long, she must reach the point where being with him would become sheer agony. She felt trapped, and remembered that she had experienced this same feeling when first she learned that she had to work for Scott as his secretary. It were better that she leave the island now, and yet this was quite impossible. Scott had forbidden her to mention to Les that Scott knew of the deceit, and she had obeyed the command—firstly because of the way it was given, Scott's voice and expression telling her quite plainly that she would regret it if she dared to go against his wishes. But of course there was also the strong deterrent of her brother's reaction which would most likely result in his leaving the island, and the kind of job he had so long coveted.
With a deep sigh she arose at last, took a bath and dressed in a fresh crisp cotton dress, low-cut and sleeveless. She felt better, and looked better, she noticed with some satisfaction, taking a last look in the mirror before proceeding downstairs to the lounge in which tea was usually served.
It was Gwen's afternoon off and she was sitting alone on the verandah. Jane went out and joined her, escaping for once from the old people who were gathered in the lounge, waiting for their afternoon tea to be brought in.
Gwen glanced up and a smile fluttered; plainly she was not happy, the smile obviously being forced. Jane's heart went out to her and she would have done anything to be able to inform the girl that she was Les's sister, and not his wife. But of course that was impossible and a rather awkward silence fell between the two girls, broken at last by Jane who, just for something to say, asked Gwen what she had been doing with her time off.
'I went for a stroll on the beach,' she replied, without much interest.
'I don't see you swimming at all?'
'I do swim—but not here. It's no fun swimming alone.' The dejection was all too apparent and Jane frowned and bit her lip.
'We'll go together next time you're off. That will be on Friday, I believe?'
Gwen nodded. Her eyes, brooding and shadowed, were fixed on the shimmering expanse of crystal clear water stretching away to the horizon where it met the sky, cobalt blue and flecked with fine-weather cumulus clouds.
'Will you really come swimming with me?' she asked unexpectedly, turning her head to look at Jane.
'Of course. I too shall be glad of the company.'
A small pause and then, hesitantly,
'Your husband—Mr. Coates—doesn't swim with you?'
'He doesn't have much time, as you have probably discovered by now.'
'Yes…' Another pause. 'You haven't been married very long, have you?'
A sigh escaped Jane. This situation was damnable.
'No, Gwen, we haven't been married long.' Looking up, Jane saw with relief that the waiter was approaching with Gwen's tea tray. 'Do you mind if I join you?' she asked.
The girl hesitated briefly, then shook her head.
'Not at all, Mrs. Coates.'
'You want the same, madam?' from the waiter, glancing at Jane.
'Yes, please, Dick. But not quite so much butter on the bread.'
'Very good, madam.'
It was not a very pleasant meal, for Gwen was silent and even morose, speaking only when it was absolutely necessary. Jane persevered but naturally it was a strain, endeavouring to pursue a conversation with someone intent on maintaining a brooding silence.
'Mrs. Coates,' said Gwen with sudden decision just as the last cup of tea was being drunk, 'I want to give in my notice.'
Silence fell. Jane sat watching the girl's expression, particularly noting the slight movement of her lips and the rapidity with which she blinked, revealing just how close to tears she was. There must be some way of handling this situation, thought Jane, feeling—quite without any valid reason—that eventually Les was bound to notice this pretty girl with the sincere blue eyes and soft compassionate mouth.
'What reason have you for wanting to leave?' Jane inquired at length, realizing all at once that this question would naturally be expected of her.
'I—I—' Gwen broke off and turned her head to one side, unwilling to let her companion see how deeply affected she was. 'I just want to leave, Mrs. Coates,' she managed presently. 'Please don't ask for any further explanation.'
'Mr. Coates will require one,' she reminded the girl gently.
'I can't give him one!' Emphatic tones and sharp. Gwen kept her head turned away from Jane as she added, 'The reason is private, and one I couldn't possibly disclose.'
'I see. When are you wanting to go?'
'I expect I shall have to give a month's notice.'
'I expect you will,' agreed Jane. 'Where are you thinking of going?'
'Home.'
'To England? But you've been here in Barbados for some time—so my husband tells me.'
'That's right. I've worked in another hotel for four years. I left only because it changed hands and I didn't like my new boss.'
'Ah, yes, I remember.' A pause. 'Must you go home?' she then asked, and Gwen nodded vigorously.
'Yes, I must.' A movement caught her attention and she glanced up. Les smiled at the girls in turn and then sat down.
'I see you've almost finished,' he observed. 'Don't rush off, though,' he begged, 'I hate eating alone.' He beckoned to the native waiter who came silently and with a flashing smile. 'Tea and cakes—and just one sandwich,' he said.
An awkward silence descended and, puzzled, Les glanced interrogatingly at his sister. She in turn looked at Gwen, whose glance clearly said, 'You tell him, please.'
'Gwen wants to leave us, Les,' Jane informed him, and a frown came swiftly to his brow.
'Whatever for?' he inquired of Gwen. 'You have a complaint?'
'No, Mr. Coates,' she whispered, averting her head. 'It's just that I've made up my mind to leave Barbados.'
Watching him closely, Jane saw her brother swallow hard, heard him say in tones that were a mingling of persuasion and regret,
'Is this a firm decision, Gwen? Won't you reconsider?'
She shook her head.
'No—I can't stay, Mr. Coates.'
After a long moment of silence he shrugged his shoulders and said resignedly,
'Very well, Gwen. But we're very sorry to be losing you so soon.' He looked at her. 'It's all very sudden. You were most keen to get the post.'
'Yes, I was, at that time.'
'Something must have happened?' Despite his air of resignation Les was persisting, thought Jane, and wondered if it were possible that already he had begun to see Gwen in another light besides that of his employee.
'As I've said, I'm leaving Barbados.' Gwen glanced away, avoiding his eyes. 'I won't change my mind, Mr. Coates.'
'No, I see that you won't.' He gave a small sigh. 'Your notice will have to start from the end of next week, Gwen. You understand that?'
'I thought I need give only one month's notice?'
'From the end of this month,' he told her firmly.
'So I have to stay for another six weeks?'
'Almost.' His eyes searched her face when at length she turned to meet his gaze. 'I hope you won't let me down?'
'No—oh, no, Mr. Coates,' she returned quickly. 'I'd never do that.'
'Thank you,' was all he said, giving his attention to the food the waiter had just put before him. Jane poured his tea, wh
ile Gwen rose, excused herself, and left them. 'Why should she want to go?' Les glanced at Jane. 'Did she give you any clue as to the reason for this sudden decision?'
After a moment's hesitation Jane said,
'No, Les, she didn't.' But something in the way she spoke caused his eyes to narrow.
'Are you sure?'
'Quite sure.'
'I'm not satisfied,' he almost snapped.
'Gwen never gave me the slightest clue as to why she's leaving,' returned Jane, looking directly at him.
Les paused thoughtfully.
'It's said that it takes one woman to understand another,' he said at length. 'Do you yourself have any ideas about her decision?' He watched her closely and she felt the colour rise in her cheeks as the lie forced itself to her lips.
'No—why should I?'
'I don't know why you should, but I'm not at all convinced that you haven't any ideas. There's something I don't understand.' He was vexed and for a fleeting moment Jane debated on whether or not to repeat what she had overheard. But she decided to keep her knowledge to herself, as she realized she could embarrass Les by disclosing it. After all, she had not been given any indication that he might be attracted to the girl. 'Well,' he was saying shortly, 'aren't you going to comment?'
At a loss, Jane shook her head, and it was with a deep sigh of relief that she saw one of the hotel porters coming towards her brother, a message obviously on his lips.
'Mr. Coates, you're wanted on the telephone.'
'Thank you.' With a glance at his sister Les rose; the next moment she was alone, thinking about the situation and feeling more dejected than ever, because it did seem that Les was more than ordinarily upset by Gwen's decision to leave.
So greatly did the matter affect her that, impelled to tell someone about it, she mentioned it to Scott the following morning immediately she arrived at Driftwood House.
'I know I shouldn't trouble you with it,' she ended when with a lifting of his brows he indicated a question as to why she had come to him. 'But in fact you're the only one I could speak to—and I just had to speak to someone.'
'And what,' he inquired suavely, 'do you expect me to do about it?'
Vaguely she shook her head.