The Widening Stream

by Rachel Lindsay

  He reached out a large, bony hand and caught hers in a painful grip, his narrow face lighting up in a smile which revealed his white teeth, while his deep brown eyes momentarily lost their preoccupied expression.

  "My, Loris, it's good to see you!" His twang, now that he was home again, seemed more pronounced than she had remembered it, but the boyish inflection had lost none of its charm.

  "It's good to see you, too, Dickson—even if you are temporarily under the weather."

  "That's what I call typical British understatement! Draw up a chair and tell me how Melanie behaved on the trip over. Did she flirt with all the eligible men?"

  Loris gave a sly smile. "I'm afraid she had to do most of her entertaining in the cabin." Then, at his startled look: "When you get married, Dickson, you'd better not take her to sea on your honeymoon. She's such a frightful sailor." They both laughed and she sat down on a chair near his. "In any case we only met one eligible man. I believe you know him. Brett Halliday."

  "Was Brett on the boat? Well, what do you know! How is the old son of a gun? He doesn't usually have much time for members of the fair sex."

  "Really?" Loris hid a smile. "We met him the first evening on board, before Melanie began to get seasick."

  "Didn't lose much time, did he? Probably thought there was safety in numbers! Guess he made himself scarce when you were on your own, though."

  "On the contrary," she said demurely, "we saw a great deal of each other."

  Dickson whistled. "Congratulations! The only other woman I've never known him run away from is Elaine." Loris digested this remark in silence. "As a matter of fact," Dickson went on, "there was a time when we all thought Elaine would marry him. She certainly wasn't averse to the idea."

  "And Brett?" Loris's voice was eager in spite of herself.

  "Oh, nobody ever knows what goes on inside him! You can know him for years without finding out what makes him tick."

  "But he's an old friend of yours, isn't he?"

  "Gee, yes. And one of the best. Why, I remember…" He broke off as Melanie came flying into the room.

  She planted a swift kiss on his cheek and ruffled his hair. "What are you two looking so conspiratorial about?"

  "Darling!" Dickson pulled her down against his chair and buried his face in her curls, and seeing the look of adoration which transfigured his face Loris slipped quietly out of the room.

  Dinner was over and the purple sky pierced with stars when Elaine offered to show Loris the garden. "Not that you'll be able to see much of it in the dark, but we can stroll as far as the pool," she said casually. "It looks rather nice by moonlight."

  Although not particularly eager to accept Elaine as her guide, Loris was glad enough to leave the sultry lounge for a while, for the heavy scent of the flowers which banked the room made her head ache, and she followed Elaine through the open veranda windows and along the terrace.

  Without speaking they walked across the lawn and down a narrow path leading to the pool. In the moonlight it looked mysterious, and the water rippling darkly over the shining tiles distorted them into grotesque shapes, making them look like a shoal of ghostly fish.

  Elaine halted at the water's edge and took out a slim, gold cigarette case. "Smoke?"

  "No, thank you. I don't."

  Drawing out a small lighter Elaine flicked it into life. For an instant the flame shone startlingly on her scarlet-tipped fingers, then with a snap she closed it and slipped it into her pocket, inhaling deeply and watching the smoke curl up into the still air.

  "Melanie tells me you met a friend of mine on the way over."

  "You mean Brett Halliday?"

  "Yes. You saw quite a lot of one another, it seems. What did you think of him?" She studied the tip of her cigarette.

  "I—we thought he was very charming." Loris said hesitantly.

  "He can be, when it suits him. But those Atlantic crossing are so tedious, aren't they?"

  "I didn't think so. But then I've never been abroad before."

  "Sweet innocence! I guess Brett must have found you amusing."

  "I hope he did," Loris said stiffly.

  "If I know him, he didn't let the grass grow under his feet."

  "What are you trying to insinuate, Mrs. Forrest?" In the darkness Loris flushed.

  "Insinuate? My dear, why should you think I'm insinuating anything?"

  There was a tremor in Loris's voice. "Because I don't believe you brought me out here just to show me the pool."

  In that instant Elaine realized she had underestimated the girl's intelligence. Shy and demure she might be, but she was certainly no fool. She should have remembered that Brett did not suffer fools gladly, and made a mental note to tread more warily in future.

  She lowered her eyelids and studied her cigarette again. "Well, if you want the truth, Miss Cameron, I'll give it to you. Since my husband was killed Brett's been the only man I've cared about. If it hadn't been for him I couldn't have got through these last five years. You're very young yet and you don't know the meaning of loneliness. Brett made me want to go on living when I didn't care if I died." She half lifted her eyes and glanced covertly at Loris to see what effect she was having. "I never thought. I'd care for anyone again, but Brett means all the world to me, and as far as I know he feels the same way."

  "Why are you telling me all this, Mrs. Forrest?"

  "Because I don't want you to make a fool of yourself over him. I know him so well that I can understand his every mood, but you—why, you're only a girl, and a man like Brett needs to be handled by a woman." She dropped her cigarette and trod it out with the high heel of her shoe.

  "I assure you I'm quite capable of looking after myself."

  Elaine shrugged. "Have it your own way, then—but don't say I didn't warn you."

  Although aware of the challenge in the woman's tone, Loris did not reply and followed her in silence as she turned away from the pool, and walked through the garden to the house. After the darkness outside, the bright lights of the lounge made Loris's head ache again and she soon murmured her apologies and went to her room.

  What if Elaine had been speaking the truth and Brett had only been amusing himself with her on the boat? But surely, if there was anything between him and Elaine he would not have behaved as he had—or would he?

  Having an understanding with one woman would not prevent some men from becoming involved with another. But not Brett, surely not Brett! She trusted him too implicitly to believe that. If only he were here he would soon banish all her doubts, set her fears at rest and make her as happy as she had been with him that last night on the boat!

  Loris got into bed and turned out the light, but the confusion of her thoughts kept her awake until far into the night.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  In the days that followed Melanie spent most of her time talking or reading to Dickson and her companionship made him less irritable, although he chafed at having to lie like a log, unable to show his fiancée the beauties of his beloved California—the heavy waves breaking on the beach at Santa Monica, the arid desert which lay within a stone's throw of the city, and the wonderful sweet-smelling orange groves with their masses of bloom and foliage. He did not want Melanie to refuse the invitations of people who offered to show her around but was jealously possessive of her and afraid that among her escorts she might meet someone she would prefer to him. His idleness made him more introspective than was natural to him and gradually he came to realize how superficial his knowledge of Melanie was. His enforced inactivity sometimes made him hasty and evoked flashes of temper which he afterwards regretted, but although he knew his attitude could only alienate Melanie he could not help himself, and after the first few days started to watch for signs of restlessness on her part, ready to pounce on any telltale word or gesture.

  Melanie sensed this and at first went out of her way to keep him amused. It was a novelty to her to play the part of a modern Florence Nightingale and she threw herself as a martyr, longing to be abl
e to escape to the city or the beaches, which were so near and yet so tantalizingly out of reach.

  Loris sensed what Dickson was going through and tried to explain it to Melanie.

  "But why on earth should he be jealous?" Melanie expostulated. "I'm never out of his sight for more than a few minutes. The only time I've been out at all has been with his parents or Elaine. After all, he can't expect me to stay with him the whole day."

  "I'm sure he doesn't want you to do that. But you must see it from his point of view, Melanie. After all, it isn't very pleasant for him to know that other people are showing you all the things he wanted to show you himself."

  "Well, it's not very pleasant for me, either. All I've heard since I've been here is what Dickson thinks and what Dickson wants. No one bothers about me. How do you think I feel having to do everything without him? Do you think I enjoy going out with his family all the time?"

  "I can understand how you feel, darling. But it isn't true to say nobody bothers about you. Dickson's parents have gone out of their way to make you feel at home."

  "Oh, I know they have, Loris, and I'm not ungrateful. It's just that everything's such a disappointment. It's not a bit like I imagined it would be."

  "Things are very rarely what one imagines they'll be," Loris said drily. "But you're still Dickson's fiancée and he has a right to expect you to be with him."

  "But not all the time," Melanie persisted. "We'll only get on each other's nerves if I am."

  "What's all this about nerves?" They both turned round startled as Mrs. Loftus came into the room. "You're too young to talk about nerves, Melanie, dear—isn't she, Loris?" Then, without waiting for a reply, she went on: "My husband and I have been thinking of giving a party for you. There are so many of Dickson's friends you haven't met yet that we thought it'd be a good idea if we invited some of them over one evening. We did intend holding a dance when you arrived, but that'll have to wait. At least you can meet some of the young people and get to know them."

  "That'll be lovely!" Melanie said excitedly. "Does Dickson know?"

  Mrs. Loftus put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, dear, he wanted to tell you himself! It was his idea and now I've spoilt the surprise."

  "No, you haven't, Mother Loftus. I'll pretend I don't know anything about it." Melanie danced out of the room and Mrs. Loftus looked after her affectionately. "She's a high-spirited little thing, isn't she?" she sighed, turning to Loris. "How do you think things are going between them? I've had a feeling that Melanie hasn't been too happy. Do you think she's homesick?" Loris pounced eagerly on that explanation. "Well, I'm sure she misses her parents."

  Mrs. Loftus looked relieved. "As long as it isn't anything else," she said. "I've been worried about her."

  Loris forbore to say that she had also been worrying about Melanie. Mrs. Loftus had enough to bear without adding to her anxieties.

  Loris was glad to occupy her mind with Melanie, for it gave her less time to brood about herself and Brett. As soon as she had arrived in California she had written him a short note explaining why they had not stayed in New York, but re-reading it before she sent it was dismally aware it seemed all too brief and impersonal. Although she longed to be able to write all she felt she was too shy to put even the slightest endearment down on paper for her love was still too new and untried to put it into black and white, and she hoped Brett knew her well enough to read between the lines.

  Eagerly each morning she awaited the arrival of the post, but no reply came, and when a week had passed and she still had not heard from him tried to find excuses for his silence. Perhaps he had found so much work awaiting him after his absence in Europe that he had not had time to write? But even as she sought excuses Loris knew in her heart that, she had at least expected him to telephone. She longed to see him, yet was half afraid that when he saw her away from the glamorous background of the ship he would lose interest in her, and that in his own surroundings among the people he knew, he would find her dull and immature.

  After that first evening she saw very little of Elaine, for the woman never attempted to speak to her on her own again. Sometimes at lunch or dinner Loris would catch the tawny eyes fixed speculatively upon her, although as soon as she met them they would drop, veiled by the long, dark lashes.

  The party provided a welcome release from tensions for them all, and Loris was glad of the diversion.

  Dickson's friends were charmed by both the English girls and particularly by Melanie. They admired Loris, they found her aloof and were too unimaginative to realize that she was only shy. Melanie had no such inhibitions and entered so wholeheartedly into the party spirit that she was soon accepted as one of the gang. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and her happy laugh pealed out continually as she flitted between Dickson's chair and his guests.

  Dancing with a tow-haired young man who regaled her with accounts of his prowess on the baseball pitch, Loris watched Melanie half in amusement, half affectionately, and wished with all her heart that she had the same ability to merge her personality with others. Suddenly she could bear the bright lights and noise no longer. With a murmured apology she excused herself from her partner and slipped out on to the terrace where she rested her head against the stone balustrade and breathed and breathed in the cool air.

  In this exotic part of America, with its magnificent homes, smartly dressed women and indolent, casual men, she felt like an alien, drab and colourless against their flamboyance. Even the weather seemed vulgarly perfect, with its clear, bright sunshine during the day and cool, fresh evenings. Nowhere in the world, Loris thought, could there be a climate more ideal for people with money, for here one had the best of both worlds.

  Not wanting to go back into the noisy, smoky room she had just left, she descended the terrace steps into the garden, intending to stroll round to the front of the house and slip up to her room unnoticed.

  Above the clamour in the lounge Elaine heard the shrill peal of the telephone. It rang so long that eventually she went out into the hall, and closing the door behind her, picked up the receiver. It was Brett.

  Her mind worked quickly. Although she had tried to make Loris believe that his interest in her had been merely one of propinquity, Elaine had learned enough from Melanie to realize that this was not the case, and knew as soon as she heard Brett's voice that he had rung up to speak to Loris.

  He proved her right, for after inquiring after the family in general and Dickson in particular, he asked for her.

  "Hold the line a minute, Brett, I'll go and look for her."

  Elaine covered the mouthpiece with one hand, slowly took out a cigarette and lit it, then picked up the receiver again.

  "I guess you're out of luck. She must have gone out in the garden with one of the boys. We're throwing a party for Melanie and they haven't been free for a minute all evening. I'll ask her to call you back as soon as she comes in."

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw the hall door open and Loris appear, but she pretended to be unaware of her and went on with the conversation.

  "Sweet of you to call, Brett dear. When are you coming home?"

  Loris stiffened at the mention of Brett's name and involuntarily moved towards the telephone, but Elaine went on as though she was not there.

  "O.K., honey, I won't forget. Look after yourself, and come home soon."

  She replaced the receiver and then pretended to notice Loris for the first time. "Oh, that was Brett. He's still in New York. Wasn't it sweet of him to call me?"

  Loris felt her heart contract, and hardly aware of what reply she made, turned blindly to go to her room and was half-way up the stairs when Elaine called after her. "By the way, Brett sent you his regards." Loris pretended not to hear, and when she reached the top of the stairs ran into her bedroom and threw herself on the bed in a passion of weeping, although she knew that no tears could wash away the hurt she had just received.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Once Melanie had met Dickson's friends she was inundated by tel
ephone calls and invitations. At first she refused them all, but eventually even Dickson urged her not to.

  "You go ahead, baby—I don't expect you to stay cooped up with me all the time. Just because I'm tied to this darned chair I don't want to make a prisoner of you. Go ahead and enjoy yourself. I don't mind as long as you come back to me."

  Melanie threw her arms round his neck. "Oh, Dickson, I would like to see some of the sights. I know we'll be living here when we're married, but everything's so new and exciting just now."

  He smiled up at her indulgently. "Then run along and have a good time, my poppet."

  To start with Dickson was pleased that Melanie was enjoying herself, but after a week or so he became restive and hurt that she spent so little time with him; whenever he wanted her she seemed to be out with one or other of his friends.

  Realizing the cause of Dickson's growing tension and moodiness Loris tried to warn Melanie one afternoon as she was getting ready to go out, but the girl paid no heed to her.

  "Oh, Loris, we've been through all that before. Anyway, I didn't ask him if I could go out, he told me to go."

  "Perhaps he didn't mean you to take it quite so literally? After all, you've been out every evening this week."

  Melanie put down her hairbrush with a clatter.

  "I don't see why you should boss me any more," she said, hotly. Then seeing the look of hurt on Loris's face, relented as quickly as she had flared up. "I'm sorry, Loris, I didn't mean that. But you know I'm not the sort of person to sit doing nothing all day. I get so bored if I have to be with Dickson the whole time, and when I'm bored it makes me bad-tempered and we end up snapping at each other."