by Hilary Wilde
“What are you looking like that for?” he said sharply. “I told you I was only engaging you for six months.”
Kate tried to recover her composure; she knew that her face had showed dismay and shock. Then she found courage. “I was just being sorry for Rosa,” she explained. “Just as she gets used to me, she will have to get used to a totally new life. Boarding school is all right for some people, but—”
She saw by the anger in his eyes that she had gone too far, and waited for the explosion. Instead he said coldly:
“Considering that you’ve spoken about four words to my daughter, you appear to take an excessive interest in her welfare.” That made her angry again. “Of course I do. Any decent person would.
Here is a child, deprived of her mother, barely knowing her father, brought up in one atmosphere, learning to be a good child, to please her elders —
and suddenly she is expected to change completely both her behavior and her manner, and then — in six months — will have to suffer another metamorphosis.” Kate stopped. Where on earth had she got that long word from? How Mrs. McCormack would have beamed! That reminded her of that kind woman, so she took another breath.
“Please, Mr. Lister, it’s wrong of me to make such a criticism. I apologize. It’s just that — that it nearly broke my heart to have Rosa so frightened of me.” It was maddening, but her voice suddenly thickened.
“I’ve never had a child look at me like that before. I would give anything to see her happy.”
There was silence while she blew her nose, blinked her eyes and tried to regain her calm.
When Mr. Lister spoke, it was in a totally different voice.
“Thank you, Kate. I asked for that and deserved it. We must now do what we can to put this unfortunate situation right. Believe me, I do want my daughter to become an English child — as you say, to laugh, be naughty, happy, normal. I also agree that the Dominguez are making the situation needlessly difficult. We must accept that and realize that every nationality looks at each situation differently. No doubt that’s one of the reasons that the world is always in such a mess.” He smiled at Kate and she felt herself relax, falling once again under his charm.
“What shall we do, Kate?”
He was appealing to her! Kate thought before she spoke. Then she said:
“First, I think it would help if you would let the Senhora know that you want me to look after the child, that I’m disobeying your orders if I don’t do so.”
“I’ll do that — and Anna must go.”
“Oh, no!” Kate cried in distress. “No, that would never do.” He frowned for a moment. “But that was one of the things you complained of—”
“Not that, exactly.” Kate’s hands were twisting together again. This was her chance — she must not spoil it. “I want to be allowed to share Rosa with Anna — I want to have meals with them, go for walks with them, let Anna teach me how to look after Rosa. I don’t want Anna to be pushed out at all — or Rosa to feel that she is stranded with me and has no one to whom to turn.” Kate’s young voice was grave as she tried to think wisely and talk at the same time. She looked anxiously at her employer.
“It won’t be easy, Mr. Lister, but I think if I am very patient and can make both Rosa and Anna see that I’m a friend, I may win their confidence. It’s just — just—” She hesitated, for this was really difficult.
“Would you make it clear that I take my orders from you?” She saw he was frowning at her.
“Mr. Lister — it’s impossible to work for several masters.” Kate paused again. Neither of them had mentioned Mariana by name. That meant they both recognized, but dared not admit, that Mariana was the real stumbling-block. Kate sighed a little. How could she hope to fight Mariana?
“Mr. Lister, I promise I will be very diplomatic,” Kate borrowed one of Mrs. McCormack’s pet expressions. “I’ll be the soul of discretion and will not willingly give them cause for anger.”
Perhaps it was the rather pedantic sentences or the look on Kate’s face, but Mr. Lister was smiling at her again. “I know that I can rely on you, Kate.” He looked at his watch. “My dear girl, I had no idea—”“ He pulled out his wallet and gave her a wad of notes. “Take the rest of the morning to do your shopping and buy some suitable clothes.” He screwed his eyes up as he smiled at her. “Please look upon them as uniform and don’t go counting the pennies. Only of course they’re not pennies.” Kate could laugh with him now. “You’ll find the assistants very helpful about the different currency here. You need plenty of light dresses, Kate, if you and Rose are going for walks.” He stood up, and Kate rose too. “Now, Kate, be back here by half-past twelve and I will drive you back to the flat, see the Senhora and make everything plain to her. Is that all right?” Kate was thinking hard, clutching the wad of notes in her hand. She was startled when Mr. Lister put a firm finger under her chin and tilted her head back, making her look him in the eyes.
“Kate—” he said in a gentle voice. “Don’t you trust me?” She swallowed and knew that she was trembling. She hoped he had not noticed and would never guess what an effect just the touch of one finger of his could have on her. “I know it isn’t easy for you,” she said.
He chuckled. “How right you are, Kate.” He went with her to the door.
“I haven’t got your courage nor your determination, I’m afraid.” As he opened the door, he smiled down at her again. “Tell me, how is it that such a small person as you can be so aggressive?”
Kate looked up at him apologetically. “Was I? I didn’t mean to be, but I think when you’re small, you have to make a lot of noise or people won’t bother to listen to you.”
She could still hear his friendly laugh as she went to the lift. But it was nice laughter, warm, appreciative, friendly.
She went down in the lift feeling a great deal happier. Mr. Lister understood the situation, and that was half the battle. If only he could make the Dominguez accept her! Yet most of that must be done by herself — by her own attitude. She sighed a little. But still, it was a job worth doing, and she did have Mrs. McCormack to help her with encouragement — yes, and Natala, too.
Kate was smiling as the heat of the street hit her face scorchingly. She hurried over the street by the robot lights and was startled when someone stopped her on the island. She looked up and saw a tall young man with an olive skin.
“The English miss!” he said.
Kate frowned, and then recognized him as the man at the Pensao Fadora, the man who had stood too close and who had absurdly frightened her.
Now his hand was through her arm and he was crossing by her side.
“We will drink the coffee together,” he announced.
They had to pause on the pavement as a crocodile of demure-looking schoolgirls walked by, a serene-faced nun with them. Kate turned to look up at the tall building where Mr. Lister worked and carefully disengaged her arm from the young Portuguese’s tight grasp. For a moment she thought she saw Mr. Lister standing in the window, but then the faint shadow moved and the windows stared blankly down. It had been silly even to look — why should he gaze down the street after her? Already he would be back at his desk, writing rapidly and with assurance, Kate and her troubles forgotten.
She turned to the young man and said firmly, “I’m sorry, but I’m busy.
I have shopping to do and then I have an appointment.” He looked surprised. “But just one leetle coffee ...?” Kate smiled but firmly. “I’m sorry, but no.”
He was saying. “Another time, pliz?” as Kate hurried into one of the biggest shops and managed to lose him in the crowds.
C H A P T E R S I X
KATE had a wonderful time choosing light tropical clothes for her six months in Lourengo Marques. As Mr. Lister had said, all the assistants were friendly, talking to her in English, and the time raced by so that she was quite breathless when she reached his office at the appointed hour.
He came to her as if in a great hurry, talking rather imp
atiently to the pretty girl with the dark pony-tail, and when they went down in the lift he hardly spoke to Kate. Kate, sitting by his side in the car, was content just to be there, and it hardly bothered her because his mood had changed again.
Sympathetically she thought he was dreading the interview ahead, which might prove emotional.
It was odd how different things turn out to be, she thought later. The Senhora was all charm, her dark face broken by her nearest approach to a smile, her voice honeyed as she said finally:
“Ah — but now I understand, Senhor. You wish Mees to spend her time with Rosa and the maid. That is good — if that is the way you wish it. To us, that would be—” she shrugged expressively, “but the Englese, I know, are different.” She made it sound disparaging. “It shall be as you wish it, Senhor Lister, as always.”
In the hall, Mr. Lister looked at Kate and half smiled.
“I hope that will help matters,” he said.
Kate hoped so, too. She smiled back. “I’m sure it will,” she said with a great deal more confidence than she felt.
She had her first taste of Rosa and Anna’s company immediately. Anna came to tell her lunch was ready and led her to a small dark room that was allotted to Rosa’s waking hours. Feeling rather nervous, Kate sat down and began to eat Rosa, who sat opposite her, was eating silently, her eyes huge and shadowed a little. Anna, the girl, marched heavily round the table, resentment every movement. Kate decided not to talk but just to behave as though nothing extraordinary was happening at all. She went with Anna when Rosa was put to bed for her siesta, and stood looking out of the window at the street below Then without thinking, she said, “I have a lovely view from my balcony.”
She was startled when Rosa replied, “I hate the sea—it’s got sharks.” Kate turned round. “Has it? It looks so beautiful — I never thought of sharks.”
Rosa nodded. “They eat you if you go in the water.” Kate sat down on the edge of the bed. Anna had tucked the child up under a thin sheet, but Rosa had pushed it back. The room was stifling. If only there was an electric fan!
“Oh, Rosa, is it really full of sharks?” Kate said rather sadly. “I was so looking forward to swimming.”
“Can you swim?” Rosa asked. “Don’t you just drown?” Kate shook her head. “Oh no, not when you’ve learnt how to do it. It’s a wonderful feeling, floating. You lie on your back, looking at the sky, and you just rock slowly. It’s like ... like being rocked to sleep as a baby.” Rosa didn’t look impressed. “I’d be afraid of being eaten,” she remarked.
Kate smiled at her. My poor baby, she thought, you’re afraid of everything.
Later, they went for a walk — Rosa and Kate, with Anna, walking a few paces behind. It wasn’t a very encouraging walk, Kate thought, for she was still afraid of thrusting friendship on Rosa.
Then she remembered the advice she had been given once and asked Rosa the names in Portuguese of different objects. Rosa seemed to enjoy teaching a grown-up and even laughed if Kate made a mistake. It was always a very hesitant laugh, as if it had been shocked out of her, and Rosa looked surprised and a little worried about it herself.
That first night, too, was difficult. Kate stayed in the background as Anna bathed Rosa and put her to bed. Anna stood back when Kate went forward to tuck the child up. Kate hesitated. Dare she risk antagonizing Anna so soon? But she could not resist the small quiet face of the child lying so meekly in bed — and she stooped swiftly, letting her mouth touch Rosa’s forehead.
“Good night, pleasant dreams and God bless you, darling,” she said softly, and hurried from the room.
Her dinner was served in solitary state in the nursery. It was a relief to be alone, but she wondered with some amusement if the Senhora thought it a punishment.
That night Kate wrote a long letter home, telling her mother more about the job and its difficulties and ending up by saying she thought things were going to be much, much easier than she had feared. Then she re-read it, and hesitated; then she laughed at herself. She had mentioned Mr. Lister rather a lot in her letter, but then, after all, he was her employer, so that was natural. She had said what a strange man of moods he was – how friendly when she left him to go shopping and yet with a slightly cool suspicion when she rejoined him.
Then she thought of something and, her hand flew to her mouth in dismay. Had Mr. Lister gazed out of his office window and seen her crossing the street? Had he seen that wretched Portuguese man stop her?
Perhaps he thought Kate had arranged to meet him? Her cheeks burned with dismay. Oh — no!
Antonio whatever-his-name-was had not struck her as a nice type — she was sure Mrs. McCormack would not approve of him — and perhaps Mr.
Lister felt the same.
What could she do about it? Nothing at all, she realized unhappily.
Of course all the days were not like the first one, but as they passed, Kate began to feel she was progressing a little. Rosa no longer shrunk back when Kate entered the room, nor moved swiftly to Anna, to cling to her hand. Rosa even called Kate by her name — though not very often, and then in a timid voice, as if expecting to be in trouble for having spoken to her. Kate felt that the daily walks were the most difficult — Anna’s whole resentful attitude suggested to Kate that if she was not with them the walks would have been mere strolls to the street corner, where Anna could stand, chatting and giggling to the other girls or African houseboys, while Rosa stood patiently waiting.
Every time they went out Kate would see these little groups, and noticed the way Anna glanced wistfully towards them. Kate’s heart ached for the small children left so casually to a servant’s care, and wondered if their mothers knew what happened when their children went out for walks. But it made her hope that perhaps Anna would be glad to be relieved of her burden of escorting them, when the time came. Kate often thought they made a strange procession, she and Rosa walking in front, not touching, barely talking to one another, while Anna mooched along behind reluctantly.
Then one day Kate began to tell a story. It had to be simple because Rosa’s English, while very good, considering she had grown up in a Portuguese-speaking family, was not as fluent as it should be.
Kate spoke as if talking to herself yet loudly enough for Rosa to hear.
Then she would pause, and, if she waited long enough, Rosa might prompt her:
“And the little girl — she did cry?”
Kate, pretending not to notice the interruption, would continue the story, answering the question.
The day that, crossing the road, Rosa slipped her hand confidingly in to Kate’s was a red-letter day. As later she told Mrs. McCormack: “I really knew then that Rosa was beginning to trust me.” One day, Kate ventured to say to Rosa, “Poor Anna, how she hates walking.”
Rosa looked up with a smile. “She likes to talk.” They laughed together, sharing the joke.
“Poor Anna — shall we let her go and talk?’” Kate said hesitantly.
Rosa’s eyes shone. “She will be so happy,” she turned and told Anna.
The African girl stared at them, said something in her own language which apparently Rosa understood, showed flashing white teeth in a big smile —
and darted over the road to join one of the groups of Africans talking on the corner.
Kate took a deep breath. Anna would be so happy? Well, so was Kate!
It made all the difference to their walks. Anna seemed to sense what to do and always left the flat with them and then joined them before they reached home, but it meant that Kate no longer had the dark glowering face behind her, or felt those resentful eyes boring into her back. And, of course, she and Rosa could talk more freely.
They grew more ambitious with their walks, wandering along the sea front, going into the parks, Kate’s knowledge of Portuguese progressing slowly but surely all the time as she built up her friendship with the child.
Mrs. McCormack, whom Kate visited frequently – too frequently, Kate said rather apologeticall
y once, and was immediately told not to be so foolish, she could not go too often — was thrilled with the progress Kate was making.
“I should think Mr. Lister is very pleased, isn’t he?” Kate had to admit that she had not seen him since that first day. Mrs.
McCormack stared at her in amazement.
“Doesn’t he ever visit his daughter?”
Kate flushed. She hated anyone to put the wrong interpretation on her employer’s behavior. “Perhaps he thinks it’s better to leave me to manage alone.”
Mrs. McCormack snorted. “He’s taking the easiest way out of it. How are they treating you now, dear? Better?”
Kate, looking round the pretty house appreciatively — she often slipped out in the evening after Rosa was safely asleep — smiled. “Oh, yes, in.
their own odd way. Actually they ignore me. Sometimes I see Mariana and then she looks right through me. I don’t mind. We have nothing in common.”
But Kate did mind, a little. No one likes being treated as non-existent, and in any case, she was aware that Mariana resented her existence and was merely trying to be unpleasant. She thought of Mariana’s amused glances if she saw Kate with Rosa, trying to talk Portuguese — or when Kate went into a meal with the child, Anna carrying the tray with their food on it.
Mariana’s whole attitude was:
Kate is a servant, like Anna, so we don’t need to talk to her.
It was silly to mind. But Kate still minded. She was young enough, too, to be hurt on the several occasions when the Dominguez had visitors, and laughter and high voices filled the flat. The Senhora always sent a note, requesting Kate to “remain in her room as we wish to be alone.” Kate’s cheeks burned as she read the first one and then crumpled it up. Did they think she wanted to force herself on them — that she was interested? But hearing the laughter and the music, it was hard not to feel out of things as she sat alone on her little balcony, gazing out to sea.