“I’ve just been telling the Captain that this ship moves too slowly for my liking. If we’re going to be in Tarralisa by noon tomorrow, we’ll have to put on a bit of speed.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll do it easily,” Chuck exclaimed.
They all turned to look at him as if he had said something sensational.
“What do you know about it?” Edie Morgan enquired and there was an ominous note in his voice.
“I merely looked it up on the map,” Chuck answered almost apologetically, “and then worked out how long it would take us at the speed the engineer told me we were doing at the moment.”
“Smart guy, eh?” Edie Morgan asked. “What else do you know?”
Chuck’s eyebrows went up above his dark glasses,
“About what exactly?”
“Anything. I haven’t quite tumbled as to why you’re on this trip.”
“I thought we explained that last night,” Chuck answered. “Mr. Virdon made it very clear that the one thing he must have was a secretary who could speak Arabic and knew an appreciable amount about archaeology. Miss Brown was the only person who was available. It’s not easy to find people proficient in both these subjects.”
Deliberately he paused and took a sip from his glass before he continued,
“When we got engaged, I wanted my fiancé to give up the whole trip, but she didn’t feel she could possibly break her contract at the last moment. After all when you get to Algiers, you’ll find it very difficult to do without her. And so, rather than disappoint Mr. Virdon, I came along to give what help I could.”
“Jolly good of you!” Victor Jacobetti remarked sarcastically.
“I hope none of you gentlemen think I am gatecrashing, Chuck smiled. “If you do, of course, both Miss Brown and I could leave you when we reach Algiers.”
“No, I think that would be a mistake,” Edie Morgan said firmly. “We certainly need someone who can speak Arabic, don’t we, Corny?”
“We do,” Mr. Virdon agreed briefly.
“Oh, heck! Do we have to keep talking business?” Kate asked. “I think it’s very nice to have Mister – er – what’s your name?”
“Tanner – Chuck Tanner,” Chuck supplied.
“I think it’s very nice to have Chuck aboard,” she said with a smile. “The more the merrier where men are concerned.”
The party helped themselves to the excellent hors d’oeuvres that had been laid on the table. There were small langoustines, moules done in the French way, herring smoked in the Scandinavian fashion and a dozen other tempting dishes.
“You must try and eat,” Chuck said to Zaria in an affectionate solicitous manner that made her remember that she must play up to him as he had requested.
“I’ll try,” she said humbly.
“That’s right,” Victor Jacobetti said. “Feed her up. No man should marry a thin woman, they’re always disagreeable.”
“Women are only happy when men take the trouble to make them so,” Kate said, looking at Chuck from under her long black eyelashes.
“Then Zaria’s going to be a very happy girl,” he answered.
“Zaria! What a strange name,” Kate exclaimed.
“It’s Arabic,” Zaria explained, feeling that she must say something.
Kate suddenly lay back in her chair.
“What are you gay cavaliers going to do this afternoon?” she asked.
“Personally, I’m going to get a bit of shut-eye,” Edie Morgan replied. “I’ve a lot to catch up with. What about you, Corny?”
“I’m going to sit on deck,” Mr. Virdon said. “Might as well enjoy the sunshine while we’re here.”
Kate stood up and stretched, the action showing to the full the somewhat exaggerated charms of her figure.
“Well, I must say you’re a lousy lot,” she said. “Come along, Miss Brown, and help me unpack. Then I think I too will take a nap.”
Zaria rose and followed Kate out of the Saloon and across the companionway into a large cabin opposite.
“He’s certainly very attractive, that boy of yours,” Kate said. “Where did you find him?”
“In – in London,” Zaria answered, thinking to herself that she must warn Chuck of everything she said so that they would not contradict themselves on another occasion.
“Well, you certainly have been clever to get him tied up,” Kate said.
She ran her eye over Zaria as she spoke and the English girl was miserably conscious of what she was thinking, the contempt in those blue eyes was quite apparent.
“Well, what about my unpacking?” Kate asked. “You can see what a mess the place is in.”
It certainly was in a mess.
There were trunks scattered all over the floor, some full, some half full, some with their contents spilled onto chairs and others with garments bulging over the edge of the trunk.
Zaria started to put the things away, trying not to gaze too enviously at the wonderful underclothes and nightgowns in every colour and shape, at the dresses, slacks and evening gowns, which all seemed to be scented with the same exotic perfume that Zaria had noticed as soon as Kate came on deck.
“Do you think they are honest on this yacht?” Kate asked. “I brought my jewels with me, but I suppose really I should have left them in the bank.”
“I should have thought that would have been safer,” Zaria said, but then Kate went on,
“We might not go back to New York, not for some time, at any rate. One never knows with Edie.”
Zaria looked at her curiously.
“Are you Mr. Morgan’s – er – guest?” she asked.
Kate, who was lying on her back, lilted one slim leg towards the ceiling.
“Sure,” she said. “I’ve been Edie’s girl for two years now. He’s a knockout, I can tell you that.”
“What is his business?” Zaria asked.
Kate’s leg came down again on the bed and she sat up. Zaria had the impression that she had made a faux pas in some way or the other.
“Say, you’ve been mighty quick with that unpacking,” Kate said. “If you think you’ve finished, I guess I’ll hit the hay. Sea travel always makes me sleepy.”
“Yes, of course,” Zaria answered. “As a matter of fact there’s only one more box. If you like, I’ll leave that for the moment and do it when you wake up.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Kate said. “And thanks a million for what you’ve done already.”
“That’s all right,” Zaria answered.
She was only too glad to get away. She shut the cabin door behind her and almost ran up the companionway onto the deck. She had to get to Chuck, she had to find out what everything meant – that extraordinary scene in the cabin and the message he had written on a piece of paper.
She came up on deck. Mr. Virdon was lying comfortably in one of the red-cushioned chairs under the awning. Edie Morgan was sitting beside him, talking intently. In another chair Victor Jacobetti was quite obviously asleep.
Zaria slipped by, hoping that they would not notice her. Chuck was where she expected to find him, in a deck chair well away from the superstructure, isolated, as it were, so it would be very hard to overhear anything that was said.
He made to rise when she reached him. But she sank down beside his chair, curling her legs under her.
“Tell me – ” she said breathlessly.
“Give me your hand and look as if you’re pleased to see me. You’ve no idea who’s watching.”
She did as she was told and he folded both his large hands over her thin cold little fingers.
“It’s almost like holding a captured bird,” he said gently. “I can feel your fingers fluttering. Don’t be so afraid.”
“But I am,” she answered. “I don’t understand what it’s all about.”
“Nor do I,” he answered. “But they are obviously suspicious.”
“How do you know?”
“I found a microphone, one of the very latest type that have only recently bee
n invented, fixed onto the desk. I had a feeling earlier that Jacobetti was keeping me in my cabin talking for some particular reason. He went out of his way to make conversation. Morgan must have been in the office fixing it.”
“But why? Why?” Zaria asked.
“Just to make sure that we are what we appear to be, I suppose.”
“Why should it matter?”
He hesitated for a moment as if he was about to say something and then, a little indifferently, remarked,
“Perhaps Virdon thinks he is on to something big. There’s fierce competition amongst these archaeologists, you know. They wouldn’t want any leakage before he’d established his claims, so to speak. I might be a spy from a rival expedition.”
“Yes, of course.”
Zaria could not explain it, but she somehow felt disappointed. It was not what she had expected him to say. She had somehow thought that there was a secret behind it, something that he would tell her. Maybe that was ridiculous, because there was nothing to tell.
“They seem strange people,” she said at length.
“What do you think of Virdon?” Chuck asked.
“I-I don’t know. He’s not like any archaeologist I’ve ever seen before – but, then, the ones I’ve known have mostly been old. These people frighten me, Chuck, they frighten me!”
“Why?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It’s silly I suppose. But Edie Morgan and the man Jacobetti, they don’t seem like people one would expect to meet in a yacht like this with a man like Mr. Virdon.”
“They do look like something out of a bad movie, if it comes to that,” Chuck agreed. “But don’t worry your head about them. The great thing is for us to keep calm and to do what we are told. That is, after all, what you are paid for, isn’t it?”
He paused a moment, turned to look at Zaria and then, to her surprise, took off his glasses. His grey eyes were very kindly.
“You’re just like a little unfledged bird,” he said, “that hasn’t got any feathers and has fallen out of its nest. The moment I saw you I felt that you were lost and bewildered. And I know you’re curious about me, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am,” she answered briefly.
“When we get to Algiers, I’ll tell you everything that you want to know,” he answered. “In the meantime, I’m going to ask you to trust me, to try and believe what I tell you, because it will make things easier if you do. I do promise you one thing, nothing I shall do in any way will hurt you. Do you believe me?”
“Yes, yes, I believe you,” Zaria said, and wondered why her voice sounded a little breathless.
Perhaps it was because his grey eyes were looking down into hers or because their chairs were very close together. She could feel the strength and vitality of him reaching out towards her.
He was so strong, she thought suddenly, and she was content, utterly content, to rely on him.
It was not exactly a sound behind them, but some sixth sense that made Zaria turn her head swiftly. Standing only a few feet away was Edie Morgan.
“You two lovebirds look real cosy,” he said in his nasal drawl. And then, as Chuck made to rise, he put his hand on his shoulder and said, “No, don’t move. I’ve only come to speak to Miss Brown.”
“What about?” Zaria asked a little apprehensively. “Well, see, Miss Brown, it’s like this,” Edie began. “Mr. Virdon and I have been having a talk and we think it’s hard on you young folks, seeing that you’re going to get spliced, to take you out into the desert and keep you employed on our concerns when you’d so much rather be together.”
“But –” Zaria began, only to be silenced by an imperious upward movement of Edie Morgan’s hand.
“Wait, now,” he said. “We’ve been doing some hard thinking. We don’t want to be unfair to anyone, but Mr. Virdon’s decided that it would be best, Miss Brown, for you to terminate your employment with him when we arrive at Algiers.”
“But, why?” Zaria asked. “Mr. Patterson told me that Mr. Virdon was most insistent on having a secretary.”
“Yes, I know,” Edie Morgan replied. “But circumstances have altered a little. As a matter of fact Madame Bertin is bringing someone with her who can talk the language.”
“I-I see,” Zaria said.
“As I have said, Mr. Virdon’s a fair man,” Edie Morgan went on. “So he’s going to arrange a nice passage for you and your young man on one of those small pleasure cruisers that go back to Marseilles via the Balearic Islands. You’ll enjoy that, the two of you. All expenses paid and a month’s salary as well. That’s fair, isn’t it?”
“Yes, of course,” Zaria said quickly. “I quite understand if Mr. Virdon does not now want me and it’s very kind of him to think of paying me a month’s salary and sending me back to London.”
“Then that’s settled,” Edie Morgan said and walked away, his feet making no sound on the deck.
But even when he was gone it seemed for a moment as if his presence still hung over them, distasteful, unpleasant and somehow infinitely menacing.
“I don’t – understand,” Zaria whispered.
“Don’t worry about it,” Chuck said. “We aren’t at Algiers yet.”
“Mr. Morgan terrifies me,” Zaria said. “I wish I hadn’t come.”
“Do you really wish that?” Chuck enquired. “If you hadn’t been there, I shouldn’t have been able to appeal to you, I shouldn’t have known how kind and generous you were in helping me to get to Algiers.”
“No, of course not,” Zaria said. “It was lucky for you, wasn’t it? Even if it was unlucky for me.”
She gave a little shiver as she spoke and Chuck said,
“Look, it’s getting cold here. You go below and have a lie down on your bed. When you wake, ask the Steward to bring you some tea. There’s no need for you to come to the Saloon for it.”
“I think I’ll do as you say,” Zaria answered.
The sea was getting rough and the boat was pitching as it met the white crested waves. Chuck rose to his feet and helped her out of her chair.
She thought as he did so how nice it was to have a man to be attentive, to take the rug off her knees and to put a steadying hand on her arm as she raised herself from the low chair.
“Now, sleep! Don’t forget,” Chuck admonished. “It will do you good.”
The cabin felt very warm after the sharpness of the breeze above and Zaria was glad of the softness of the mattress and the feather-filled pillows as, having taken off her clothes and put on her nightgown, she snuggled into them.
She had wanted to think, wanted to remember all the things that Chuck had said to her and to try and let the significance of having received the sack percolate into her mind.
She wanted to make plans for her homeward journey. But somehow nothing seemed concrete, nothing seemed clear-cut and almost before she knew it she had drifted away into a dream in which she was warm, comfortable and incredibly happy.
“I love you,” Chuck was saying. “I love you.”
And his arms were holding her close –
*
She awoke with a start to hear someone tapping on the door.
“Come in,” she called out and when the door opened she saw that it was Jim, the Steward, with a tray.
“I’ve brought you some tea, miss,” he said. “When you didn’t come to the Saloon, I guessed you must be restin’.”
“Is it teatime already?” Zaria asked drowsily.
“It’s after half-past five,” he replied. “But I felt that, being English, you wouldn’t want to miss your cup of tea.”
Zaria sat up in bed, pulling the sheets and blankets high up her chest. She was not used to having a man wait on her.
“It’s very kind of you,” she said as the Steward set down the tray beside her.
He went from the cabin, closing the door quietly behind him and Zaria poured herself out a cup of tea.
But when the time came when she should have been dressing for dinner, Jim knocked on her
door and told her that the sea had grown so rough that everyone was having dinner in their cabins.
“Don’t you move, miss,” he said. “I’ll bring you somethin’ to eat.”
“But isn’t that an awful trouble?” Zaria asked.
“Lord bless you no,” Jim answered. “I’m used to the rough weather. It never troubles me. And there won’t be so very many dinners to take round tonight, I can promise you that.”
He gave an impish grin as if the idea delighted him.
After a delicious dinner of which, to Jim’s consternation and reproach, she could only eat very little, she went to sleep again.
She wanted to dream about Chuck. She wanted to hear his voice telling her that he loved her and to feel his arm around her shoulders. To pretend that it was not pretence that a man, any man, found her attractive.
But whether it was the sea air, the food she had eaten or the fact of being so warm and comfortable, she slept as she had not slept for years – a deep dreamless sleep that seemed to ease all the tension from her bones and leave her warm and happy when she awoke in the morning.
She had asked Jim to bring her a cup of tea an hour before she need dress for breakfast, but instead he called her at nine o’clock with her breakfast on a tray.
“The Cap’n says we shall be in to the harbour at noon,” he added. “So don’t you hurry, miss. The sea’s subsidin’ and, when we’ve had time to get under the lee of the land, you won’t feel it more than a baby feels someone rocking his cradle.”
Zaria laughed and started to eat her breakfast with a better appetite than she had had the previous day. She could quite understand why her aunt had loved the ship and why she had spent the last years of her life cruising.
Poor Aunt Margaret! Zaria wished that she could remember her more clearly, but it was easier to recall her father cursing all his relatives, his sister included.
“Vipers and serpents who prey on one’s feelings!” he had shouted once. “All this sentimentalising because someone happens by chance to be born of the same parents as one had oneself. My sister can go to hell and the quicker the better as far as I’m concerned.”
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