The Foolish Heart

by Marjorie Warby

  After promising to come along that evening and bring Fran, Judy left them, as it was almost time for lunch. She found Fran had returned, armed with numerous packages, a bundle of mail, and bubbling over with news.

  "Who do you think we saw?" she demanded, throwing an armful of parcels on the veranda table. "Coming down the steps of the best hotel, and getting into a taxi loaded with luggage all pasted over with 'Cabin' and 'Wanted on the Voyage'?"

  Before Judy could hazard a guess, Fran rattled on gaily:

  "Dear Stevie! Yes. Stevie in the flesh—tenderly shepherding her American into the car. Obviously on their way to the docks. She was in mufti; I suppose he doesn't want to go about labelled as an invalid with a nurse. Looking very smart, too, I will say that for her."

  "Did she see you?"

  "Must have. But she pretended she didn't, and we saw them drive away. Exit Stevie."

  "Yes," murmured Judy, "exit Stevie." She roused herself from broodings over the working of fate to recount her own adventures.

  They had plenty to chatter about over lunch. Auntie was occupied with a long letter from her daughter, and the new knitting pattern she intended to begin that afternoon. Judy asked for news of Stewart.

  "Did you get your letter? Is all well at home?"

  "Oh, my dear—I've had a positive serial! He's been writing a bit every day, and misses us frightfully. I haven't had time to read it all yet. I'm highly in favour of occasional separation between husbands and wives; it makes your husband appreciate you. He hopes to come down here for a few days soon."

  "That will be lovely," said Judy.

  Suddenly her spirits felt overcast. Larry had his Eve, Stevie her American, Fran her Stewart, only she was alone, with nobody who cared about her more than anyone else in the world.

  Fran gave no news of Miles, and Judy felt she could not ask. She went off to her hut for the afternoon siesta.

  Lying back on her hard, narrow bed, staring up into the cobwebs of the thatch where bats hung upside down, Judy admitted to herself that she loved Miles, would always love Miles, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  The golden days slipped by in swift succession. They saw a good deal of their neighbours, whose advent broke the dreaming solitude of their first days at the coast. Now they were frequently invited to join picnics and sundowner parties next door, where both accommodation and equipment were on a far more lavish scale than their own.

  Then the day dawned when Stewart was expected. Fran went off in the car alone to meet him, and Judy and Auntie took the children to bathe. They were back in their huts, tidying for lunch, when they heard the car return. Teddy and Tony raced off to greet their father, followed by Auntie, who went away to give some instructions to the house-boy. Judy heard footsteps padding across to the next hut, and the dogs barking in hysterical recognition. The house-boy was hurrying by to the unused cottage beyond carrying two suitcases. Voices were heard upraised. Fran's excited chatter, and the deeper tones of men. Men? Judy stood in the doorway looking astonished. Someone was coming across the clearing. A tall dark man wearing white shorts and open-necked shirt, displaying skin burned mahogany.

  She felt suddenly weak at the knees.

  "Miles!" she breathed. "I didn't know you were coming."

  "I got your letter this week."

  "I didn't write—"

  "The letter you sent me after that scene with Stevie. I only received it two days ago. I knew then that I simply had to come —writing to explain was useless… Judy…" He came closer, so close that he towered above her, in the old dominating way. She looked up at him in wonder, a dawning radiance in her wide eyes. "Judy," he said hoarsely, "I want you. I can't live without you…" Then somehow he had pushed her gently back into the room, out of sight of the other huts, and she was in his arms, his mouth crushing hungrily down upon hers.

  "I love you," he muttered against her lips.

  "Oh, Miles," sighed Judy at last, "why didn't you say that long ago?"

  "I've loved you ever since I first saw you."

  "What?" She drew back far enough to peer into his face.

  "The very first day. I came over to the bungalow and you were sitting on the veranda rail swinging those long legs of yours, and laughing at something your father had said. You wore a green frock and the sun was shining through your hair; you turned and looked at me—and the deed was done."

  "Miles, darling! And all I saw was a big dark man who stared. Why didn't you let me know sooner?"

  "Because of your father. He guessed how it was with me, and asked me to do or say nothing, for at least a year. He had waited so long for your companionship, and you were still very young. I saw his point and consented to lay off for a while. It wasn't easy, Judy."

  "But after Daddy's death… you didn't say anything about loving me when you suggested marriage."

  "How could I rush in then, when you were dazed with grief? I was afraid of scaring you off for good. My plan was to teach you to care by easy stages, and then that fellow Peters came along to complicate matters."

  "Stevie came along to complicate matters, you mean. She said your reason for asking me to marry you was to gain possession of the land."

  "And you believed that?"

  "It hurt me dreadfully."

  "Judy, my sweet, there's a lot to explain, but all I want to do is to kiss you."

  She held him off. "Wait. I must know. What do you mean— you got my letter two days ago?"

  "Simply that! It was there on the mantelpiece. When I saw the date I questioned my boy. He has periodical outbursts of cleaning frenzy. He was turning out the room that morning, apparently; shifted the heavy clock I have on my mantelpiece, and found the letter behind ft. When it arrived originally, I was out. He had placed it on top of the clock and it must have slipped down. Seeing it had vanished after I came back, he quite naturally assumed I had taken it."

  "Oh, Miles, I thought you so hard and cruel not to believe me; not to answer my chit. I tried to hate you."

  "And did you succeed?"

  For answer she kissed him.

  "Do you love me," he urged. "Tell me."

  "I love you, now and always," she replied tenderly.

  Miles said quietly, "You'll marry me soon? There's nothing to wait for now, and I've waited so long…"