The Widening Stream

by Rachel Lindsay

  "But don't you think you should at least—"

  "Can't stop now, pet." She picked up her handbag. "There's a car coming up the drive and I think it's someone calling for me."

  Melanie disappeared in a whirl of skirt, leaving Loris to tidy the disorderly room. With a sigh she picked up the damp towels from the bathroom floor and straightened the dressing-table in the bedroom, then slowly went downstairs and out through the lounge on to the terrace. To the left the pool shimmered in the sunlight and to her right a mass of early summer roses bloomed in a riot of colour. Dickson was lying on his chair in the middle of the lawn, shaded from the heat of the sun by a large, gaily coloured umbrella, and he looked up and waved as she appeared.

  "Hallo there! What are you doing on your own? Thought you'd gone out with Melanie."

  Loris went down the steps and crossed the lawn, her feet making no sound in their white flat-heeled sandals. "It's too hot to be energetic," she answered with a smile.

  "Don't you find it boring doing nothing?"

  "Why should I? After rainy England, this is paradise!"

  "Even paradise can be sickening after a time."

  She was shocked at the bitterness in his tone. "Oh, Dickson, don't talk like that. You've got so much to be thankful for."

  "Sure," he said bitterly. "I'm a cripple, engaged to a beautiful girl. I've got a lot to be thankful for. How long do you think I'll be able to keep Melanie if I can't walk?"

  "When you say things like that you're only hurting yourself, Dickson. Melanie loves you."

  He laughed shortly. "I'm not doubting that—yet—but how long do you think she'll go on loving like this?" He pointed to his recumbent body. "No, Loris, I'm not, kidding myself any longer. If I don't get well soon, I'll never be able to marry her." Then he shrugged and attempted a grin. "But that's enough about my troubles. Tell me what you think of California."

  "You're the umpteenth person to ask me that," Loris smiled, "but I haven't seen enough of it yet to give you an answer." She moved over to the deck chair by his side and picked up a book which was lying on the seat. "Hallo, what's this? Oh, War and Peace. Haven't you read it either?"

  "I didn't get much time for reading before my accident. Matter of fact, it's only since the accident that I've realized how many books there are in the world!"

  "I didn't have much time for reading at home either. Would you like me to read to you?"

  "I'd sure appreciate it if you would," he said eagerly. "But you'll probably be old and grey before you've finished it!"

  "That's a chance I'll have to take." She sat down smiling and began to read.

  Occasionally her voice was drowned by the heavy drone of aircraft overhead and she looked up once or twice to watch them as they flew towards the airport, little knowing that one of them was to carry Brett to Los Angeles that afternoon.

  When Brett had telephoned the Plaza Hotel on the evening the ship docked, he had been surprised to hear that the reservations for Dickson, Melanie and Loris had been cancelled, and had presumed they had decided to go straight out to California. For the first two or three days he was so inundated with work that he had no time to answer Loris's note, although he carried it around with him in his wallet. But on the fourth evening of his stay in New York he was able to make the long-distance call to Los Angeles which Elaine had answered, and had been acutely disappointed when she had told him Loris could not come to the phone. He had replaced the receiver with a feeling of frustration, buoyed up with the anticipation of speaking to her within a few hours at the most; but as that night passed and the next few days, he had been perplexed at not hearing from her, never guessing for a moment that Elaine had not given Loris his message—had not in fact even told her that he had telephoned with the sole intention of speaking to her. He longed to get back to California and find out what was wrong, but business delayed him in New York longer than he had anticipated, and it was more than a fortnight before he was able to take a plane for the west coast.

  Elaine managed quite successfully to combat her slight feeling of guilt at not giving Loris Brett's message, and the sight of the girl's unhappy face only served to antagonize her with its unwitting reproach. Although she did not know when Brett was returning she made up her mind to meet him at the airport and racked her brains for some way to find out when he was arriving.

  It was Timothy who solved the problem for her. The little boy had formed a deep attachment for Brett, and loved to visit Brett's colonial-style house standing on a wooded slope about a mile from the Loftus home. One morning at breakfast he suddenly remembered Brett had promised him one of the puppies his spaniel Belle was due to produce, and asked his mother to take him over to see if they had arrived.

  Unexpectedly, Elaine kissed her little son. "Of course, darling. I'll take you over this morning."

  They drove to Brett's house before lunch, and while Timothy ran round the back to ask the gardener to show him the litter, Elaine sauntered up the front steps into the cool hall. She found Dorcas, Brett's coloured butler, industriously polishing the hall table.

  "You're busy today, Dorcas. Expecting Mr. Brett?"

  "Yassum. Mis' Brett's arriving on the afternoon plane. Cable came from him last night, and we got to work fast to get everything ready. Ah'll sho' be glad to see him back."

  Elaine's heart beat a triumphant tattoo. "I'll be near the airport this afternoon," she said casually, "so I can meet him and you needn't bother to send the car."

  She was descending the steps as Timothy came running to meet her.

  "Have you got the pup you wanted, honey?" she asked kindly.

  "No, Mummy. The gardener says I can't have it yet as it's too little to leave its mother—so I'll have to wait."

  "Never mind, you can always come back for it in a few weeks' time. I'm sure Uncle Brett'll keep it for you."

  She helped the disappointed little boy into the car and sent the long, low Packard gliding down the drive.

  As Brett stepped out of the plane he was surprised to see Elaine waiting for him. She came towards him, cool and soignée, and held up her cheek so naturally for his kiss that for an instant his lips lay on her soft skin.

  "Hallo there, Elaine, good to see you after all this time. How've you been?" Then without waiting her answer: "What are you doing here, though—meeting someone?"

  "Only you," she laughed up at him. "I took Timothy over to your place for the puppy you promised him, and Dorcas told me you were expected this afternoon. You wretch, why didn't you write me you were coming?"

  Brett laughed easily. "Since when could I presume on your time?"

  As they spoke, his eyes searched the waiting crowd, hoping Elaine had told Loris she was going to meet him, but there was no sign of her and he had no option but to follow Elaine to her car.

  "It's good to be back," he said as he settled himself in his seat.

  "I didn't think you missed us."

  "I always miss my friends. Incidentally, how's Dickson? Can he walk yet?"

  Elaine shot him a swift glance as she started the car. "No, he's still laid up."

  "How did Melanie take it?" Brett asked.

  "She was quite good at first, but she's too young to stay cooped up with an invalid all the time. You know how impatient Dickson always was, and his illness hasn't improved him any. Things weren't too bad until the party, but as soon as his crowd started rushing her she lost her head completely. He resented her going out without him at all to begin with, but as soon as he gave her a little leeway she took him at his word and he's hardly seen anything of her since. Which, of course, was just the chance little Miss Cameron was waiting for."

  Brett jerked his head round at the mention of Loris's name. "What do you mean?"

  Elaine laughed lightly. "What sort of chance does an unattached girl usually wait for?" she asked.

  "When I met her on the boat she certainly didn't strike me as that type," he countered.

  Elaine looked at him sideways. "Men are notoriously bad judge
s of character, my dear. You were probably fooled by her innocent appearance, like the rest of us. But she's certainly not my idea of a friend. You'd think that knowing how jealous Dickson is she'd try to persuade Melanie to spend more time with him. But no. Whenever Melanie's out, which is nearly all the time, these days, Loris is only too eager to take her place. And that's not my idea of friendship." She drew the car up at the traffic lights. "Got a cigarette for me, Brett?"

  "Huh?" Roused from his thoughts, he reached abstractedly into his pocket and offered her one. They smoked in silence, Elaine perfectly content now that she had told him what she wanted him to believe—content in the knowledge that she had planted a seed of doubt in his mind and that his own natural jealousy would inevitably fan it into life.

  She had met Brett for the first time shortly after her husband's death and had been instantly attracted by his intense, dark looks and air of sophisticated detachment. The fact that he obviously did not look upon her as more than a friend only made her more determined to penetrate his reserve and she had become obsessed with the idea of getting him, her vanity making her refuse to believe that any man could remain impervious to her attractions for very long.

  For his part, Brett was well aware that he had only to ask Elaine to marry him and she would accept with alacrity. Many women had tried to inveigle him into marriage, but he had evaded them all, looking beneath their superficial glamour for something they were usually incapable of giving. Their avariciousness had sickened him, and although he had occasionally amused himself with girls who had found the idea of becoming Mrs. Brett Halliday an attractive one, he had tired of them after a few weeks and sought distraction in some other lovely face.

  But in Loris he thought he had at last found what he was seeking. When he had first seen her in her simple, dark dress, looking like a schoolgirl among the sophisticated women in the cocktail bar, he had felt instinctively that he could trust her. The idealist in him refused to let him believe that his first impression had been wrong, yet that part of him which was cynical, his wary attitude to life and to women in particular—an attitude which experience had done nothing to dispel—made him pay more attention to Elaine's insinuations than he might otherwise have done.

  "Do you want to go straight home, Brett," Elaine asked suddenly, "or will you come over and see Dickson first? I know he'd love it. You could have a drink with him and then I'd drive you back."

  In spite of himself Brett's spirits rose at the possibility of seeing Loris. "O.K., Elaine—good idea."

  When the car swung into the drive and halted in front of the house, they got out and mounted the steps together.

  "Come on through, Brett. Dickson's probably in the garden."

  Following her through the lounge and out on to the terrace, his eyes jumped instantly to the man and girl sitting on the lawn with a book between them, and jealousy stabbed him at the sight of the dark head almost touching the fair one.

  Elaine's high heels clicked on the terrace and Loris looked up. Her face lit up with joy when she saw Brett, but the smile on her lips trembled at the sight of Elaine's slim arm resting possessively in his.

  "Hallo, you two—look who I've brought home with me!" Elaine's tone was triumphant. "His plane was nearly half an hour late—and how I hate waiting around for people to arrive…"

  Loris stiffened. So Brett had told Elaine the time of his arrival but had not let her know! Her smile of welcome froze on her face, but she greeted him with composure. Brett gave her a searching look as they shook hands, but she refused to meet his eyes and he wondered whether she was embarrassed because he had found her and Dickson together. He longed to say something to her, but Dickson was looking up at him quizzically and Brett leant over and took his hand.

  "Well, you're a fine surprise, I must say! How'd you manage it?"

  The two men started to talk and presently Elaine disappeared into the house. Loris drew her chair a little apart, picked up the book and pretended to read, but Brett, watching her covertly, knew it was mere pretence, for she did not turn over a single page. Her gesture of withdrawal chilled him and he told himself bitterly that Elaine had apparently been right. If Loris intended to show him that what had happened between them on the boat meant nothing to her, she was succeeding only too well.

  A few moments later Elaine came back bearing a tray with four glasses of iced Tom Collins which she handed round, and Loris came back into the group to take hers. As they drank, Elaine and Dickson questioned Brett about his trip to Europe, and Loris assumed a listening attitude although she did not join in the conversation.

  "It's certainly grand to have you back," Dickson said. "We've all missed you stopping by for a drink in the evening. And," he cracked humorously, "it took Elaine at least a week to find a new escort!"

  "I'm flattered it took as long as that," Brett responded gallantly. "I wouldn't have said she needed more than three days at most."

  Elaine yawned. "Quit the teasing, boys, or Loris'll think I'm really as fickle as you make it sound." She stood up and smoothed her skirt down over her slim hips. "Come along, honey, I'll drive you back."

  Brett got to his feet. "I'll be over to see you again as soon as I get settled, Dickson old son. Then we can have a pow-wow and smoke a pipe of peace. Tell Melanie I'm sorry I missed seeing her. Now I'm back I want to give a party for you both, but more about that later, huh?"

  With a friendly nod to Dickson and a cool smile for Loris he moved away. Loris could hardly believe he was leaving without a word as to when they would meet again; his impersonal attitude hurt her more than anything he could have said or done, and tears pricked her eyes as she watched his retreating figure.

  "Brett didn't have much to say to you, did he? I thought you knew him rather well," Dickson said chaffingly.

  "I thought I did, too," Loris murmured.

  "He certainly handed you the frozen mitt. I told you he was unpredictable, didn't I?"

  "You were right." Forcing a smile to her lips, she sat down and picked up the heavy book, bending her eyes over it so that he should not see the expression in her eyes. "We've got an awful lot of this to get through, Dickson. Shall I go on reading?"

  CHAPTER SIX

  Try as she would Loris could make no sense out of her encounter with Brett. Although everything seemed to show that the insinuations Elaine had made to her that evening by the pool were true, she could not bear to believe that Brett had merely been amusing himself with her, and tried to find some reason for his coolness.

  When he had left with barely a nod she had half expected him to telephone and arrange to meet her to bring out in the open whatever it was that had set up this barrier between them. As day followed day and she still did not hear from him the hope she was cherishing began to die, although she jumped every time the telephone rang and would sit with a strained expression on her face until she heard that the call was not for her.

  Had it not been for Melanie Loris would have returned home immediately, but she felt under an obligation to stay with her friend until the situation between Dickson and her was settled. Things had not been going well with the young couple, for Dickson was becoming increasingly jealous of Melanie's preoccupation with his friends, and in particular with a young Argentinian called Miguel Santos who was in California on business, but found time to take Melanie out nearly every day.

  Even Loris was assailed by misgivings at Melanie's friendship with this young man. But she did not think it wise to intervene, knowing how resentful Melanie was at any interference in her affairs.

  One night, a week after Brett's return to California, she knew she could no longer bear being so near him without seeing him, and decided to book her passage home.

  She went down to breakfast next morning relieved that her decision was made and had her meal alone in the dining-room. Elaine and Mrs. Loftus breakfasted in their bedrooms and only Loris and Mr. Loftus shared the dining-room, for Melanie usually rushed down so late that they were already finished. After she had eaten
the crisp white rolls and boiled eggs served in a wineglass topped with a creamy mound of butter, she went into the library and chose a book at random, her mind too preoccupied to lose itself in anything.

  She was walking through the hall on her way into the garden when she heard the slamming of an upstairs door and looked up to see Elaine coming downstairs.

  "Good morning," she called briefly.

  Elaine gave her a cool smile and ran down the last few stairs. "Going into the garden?" she asked, glancing down at the book.

  "Yes. I thought I might as well get as much sun as I can while I'm still here."

  "Oh?" Elaine raised thin, arched eyebrows. "Are you thinking of leaving us, then?"

  "Yes."

  "Don't you like it here?"

  Loris ignored the faintly mocking note in the drawling voice. "Very much, but I can't go on accepting your parents' hospitality indefinitely. Of course I'd love to stay, if only to see Melanie—I mean, to—"

  "To see Melanie safely married?"

  "Yes," Loris said honestly. "Still, I expect things will work out when I've gone."

  "But why be in such a hurry?"

  Loris hesitated to tell her the real reason, but did not wish Elaine to think she was running away from Brett. "To be frank, Mrs. Forrest, I'm running out of money, and America is the last country in the world where one can stay without money."

  While only too eager to get Loris out of the way, Elaine was shrewd enough to realize that when Brett heard she was leaving he might decide to see her before she left to try and clear up the misunderstanding between them. Far better for Loris to leave when the mistrust had deepened and it would take more than one meeting to bring them together again. Suddenly an idea came to her, an idea by means of which she could act the Good Samaritan and at the same time keep the girl more or less under her control.

  "Come into the dining-room while I pour myself out some coffee, Loris. I'd like to talk to you."

  She led the way in silence and it was only when she was seated at the table with a cup of steaming black coffee before her and the inevitable cigarette in her hand that she turned her attention to Loris again.