Rachel Lindsay - Alien Corn

by Rachel Lindsay

  'Well, I don't think it will remain there once Rafael's had a chance to talk to you.'

  Lorna stood up and moved over to the window. 'I'm not going to give him the opportunity.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'I'm leaving tomorrow.'

  'But you can't! You can't go without seeing him - it isn't fair!'

  Lorna's voice was thick with unshed tears. 'I must. If I don't it will be too late. It isn't easy for me to go, Amalia, for God's sake don't make it any harder!'

  Amalia sank back on the pillows. 'I never dreamt you'd do a thing like this. Oh, I knew you were worried - anyone could see that - but I didn't think it was serious enough to make you break off your engagement. I could swear that you loved him—'

  'I do, with all my heart'

  'Then why run away?'

  'Because it wouldn't work out.' Lorna moved over to the bed. 'Please, Amalia, be honest with me. You're sorry I'm leaving, but you can't truthfully tell me I'm wrong to go.'

  'I'd be afraid to. I'd like nothing better than for you to marry Rafael - you know that - but I've learnt enough in the past year to realize you can't make people fit into patterns just because you want them to. You and Rafael are so different that I'm not surprised you have doubts. He's, a man who will never conform to any standards. He has his own code of ethics and will expect the woman he loves to five up to them. He's a born Lord of the Manor, and you can never alter him in that respect.'

  'It isn't only Rafael - it's the country and everything else.'

  Amalia smiled bitterly. 'You needn't explain. I don't blame you for not wanting to live here. Portugal's wonderful as long as you're willing to accept its customs and beliefs. But you can't accept them any more than I can.'

  'That's why you're going to Brazil!'

  'And that's why you're returning to England.'

  'Then you agree I'm doing the right thing?'

  'I don't think you're doing the wrong thing. Whether or not it's the only thing I wouldn't like to say. As things are now you'd find Rafael's circle too artificial to satisfy you. You'd fight every inch of the way and in the end you'd find you were fighting Rafael too.'

  Amalia shifted her position slightly. 'But why don't you wait and see Rafael first? I don't think it's fair to leave him without giving him a chance to see if you can work something out between you.'

  Lorna's eyes were anguished. 'Rafael would only answer me with kisses. And no woman who loves him could fight against those.' She turned away. 'I daren't see him!''

  There was a puzzled frown on Amalia's face. 'Are you sure you aren't running away because you're afraid of him?'

  'What do you mean ?'

  'Only that he's a man who'll take a lot of living up to. He doesn't know the meaning of the word compromise; he'll give a lot, but he'll expect a lot in return.'

  'And I'd Willingly give him everything he'd expect! No woman could deny Rafael anything.' With one hand Lorna pleated the counterpane. 'I'll admit that I was afraid of him in the beginning, but not now. I'm afraid of myself, Amalia, afraid that I won't have the strength of mind to live up to my principles. If I marry him I'll become a puppet agreeing with everything he says, believing everything he tells me because my desire to please him will be stronger than my desire to please myself.' Her voice broke. 'I wanted my marriage to be a partnership, but I don't think Rafael knows the meaning of the word. I'm not criticizing him,' she said passionately. 'He was brought up that way. Only it's a way of life that would destroy us both in the end.'

  'Perhaps he'll alter when you're married?'

  'Oh, Amalia, it's hopeless. You said yourself you should never marry and expect people to change.'

  'Have you tried to explain all this to him?'

  'Time and time again, but he doesn't understand. I've no choice, Amalia, I've got to go home. I've thought and thought about it until I can't think any more.'

  Her voice rose, and Francisco started to whimper. Instantly Amalia leant over the bed and rocked the crib. 'Hush, my little darling. Hush, my precious.' The birdlike noise subsided and she straightened up.

  'I still think you're wrong, Lorna. I know I said you shouldn't expect people to change, but when you are married you alter without realizing it. You find yourself accepting something you would never have swallowed when you were single,' She looked down at her hands. 'If anyone had told me I'd take my husband back knowing he'd had a mistress I'd have said they were crazy!'

  'Good heavens — you knew ?'

  'He didn't try very hard to keep it a. secret.' Amalia's lips quivered. 'You love Rafael because he's strong and I love Manoel because he's weak. The only difference is that I'm prepared to make the best of things and you're unwilling to accept Rafael's strength and everything it entails. In that case I agree you'd be wise to take my aunt's advice and go home. You can't have, two dominant partners in a marriage.'

  'If only I—'

  The rest of Lorna's words were drowned by Francisco's ,renewed whimpering, and further conversation was lost as the baby began to cry in earnest.

  Lorna did not see Amalia again before she left Estoril. She spent the long day packing and sorting her things, unable to restrain bitter tears as she put away the yellow frock. 'Like a candle,' Rafael had described her in it. 'Pure and cold yet burning to the touch.'

  'Oh, Rafael,' she cried, 'will I never be able to forget the things you said and the hours we shared? Oh, darling, darling, I'll never be able to stop loving you as long as I live!'

  She would have given everything she possessed not to go down to dinner that evening, but she refused to give the Senhora the pleasure of knowing how she felt, and she defiantly put on a fresh dress and reddened her lips before taking her place at the dining-room table.

  The Senhora herself broached the subject of the previous night's discussion. 'I hope you were not too upset by all I said last night, Lorna?'

  'You could hardly expect me^to be unmoved, when you've…' her voice trembled, 'when you've destroyed something that could have made my happiness.'

  'I could not destroy something that was impregnable. If you had been sure of your love for my son and of my son's love for you, nothing I said would have shaken your faith or happiness. It is because I—'

  'Please, senhora, not again.' Lorna pushed back her chair. 'I can't bear any more discussion. You might like to know that I'm leaving in a few hours.'

  The old lady's eyebrows raised, but she said nothing as Lorna continued: 'We needn't go into the whys and wherefores. I'm not going to leave a letter for Rafael. There is nothing I can say that can make him understand. I leave it to you to tell him what you see fit.' She twisted off her engagement ring and put it on the table. 'Please give this back to him for me.' She walked to the door. 'It'll probably have to be made smaller for Inez, but I'm sure it can be done!'

  At five o'clock the following morning Lorna boarded the Fernandez and as the sun rose in the heavens the coastline Of Portugal receded farther and farther into the distance.

  On the afternoon of the third day they reached Tilbury, and as the grey huddle of sheds and wharves loomed ahead, tears spilled down Lorna's cheeks. What a different homecoming this was from the one she had envisaged! She had looked forward to returning with Rafael by her side, to be able to show him her old home, the countryside she loved and the London streets that breathed their own air of stolidity. Now she Was on her own with nothing to look forward to except a future bereft of the man she loved. She gripped the railing in front of her and concentrated on the tiny, ant-like creatures who scurried about on the quayside.

  She had wired her aunt the bare facts of her arrival and was gratified to glimpse the familiar squat figure through the barriers of the Customs shed. In a few minutes Lorna was clasped in her arms and after one look at her niece's face Marion Fairfax bundled her into a taxi.

  'How cold it is here,' Lorna shivered and glanced out at the pavements glistening with rain.

  'I expect it's still summer in Portugal.'

 
'Not quite, but it's much warmer than this. It's so bleak, here; so grey and - and—' she could not go on and turned her head away. They finished the rest of the journey in silence, and it was not until they were sitting over a cup of tea in the kitchen that Lorna recounted the reasons for her return.

  The older woman listened in silence, but as her niece finished speaking she could not restrain an exclamation of disgust. 'You're mad! Utterly mad! I'm surprised at you for not having any more sense than to listen to a jealous old woman.'

  'She's not jealous,' Lorna protested.

  'Of course she is. It stands out a mile! I'd an idea something was wrong from the tone of your letters. For a girl in love you seemed too concerned about customs and beliefs and the whole ridiculous fandangle of nonsense. Seems to me your attack of sunstroke left you a bit weak jn the head! Don't you know that nothing's important except you and Rafael? And if you love him and he loves you, to hell with everyone else!'

  'It isn't always as easy as that. Perhaps if you'd been with me I might have seen things differently. But on my own—'

  'That was half the trouble - you were too much oh your own! I'd have thought Amalia would have more sense than to let you turn tail and run. What did she say when you told her you were going?'

  'The usual things, except that she wasn't quite as vehement in her disagreement as you. She had an idea things weren't working out too well.'

  'I see. And what do you think that young man of yours is going to say when he gets home and finds you've gone?'

  Lorna stood up. 'I don't know and I don't care! I don't care about him in the least.'

  And on this last remark she burst into tears and flung herself weeping into her aunt's arms.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  During the following weeks the numbness that had first protected Lorna began to dissipate and the realization of what she had forfeited by her action was borne in on her. What had Rafael felt when he returned home to find her gone? Time and again she picked up a pen to write and explain why she had run away, but always at the last moment her courage failed her. How could she explain in a letter what she had never been able to express by word? No, there was nothing she could do. She had run away, and the next move was up to him. Anxiously she scanned the post to see if there was a letter from him; every time the telephone rang her pulses jumped. But the weeks passed without a word or a sign of his love, and gradually pride superseded any other emotion. Yet what had she expected him to do? Remembering the market at Cascais she heard his voice as he guided her to the old man's stall. 'We Portuguese are a proud race,' he had said. She should have remembered that before it was too late.

  Slowly Lorna began to pick up the threads of life again. She telephoned her friends and told them she was back. Luckily she had only written to her aunt and Derek of her engagement, and though one or two of the girls hinted at a romance Lorna made no mention of it and merely said that she had found herself homesick for grey skies and rain! She started to look for a new job and decided to find something entirely different from her last post at the hotel. She wanted to do nothing that reminded her of Rafael. Her life was beginning anew and this time everything must be different.

  It was Derek who finally sent her along to see a Mr. Browning of Browning, Murray and Sons, Solicitors, and although the building she entered was far less pretentious than the Hyde Park Palace Hotel, the job appeared to be much more absorbing and rewarding.

  Mr. Browning dealt with the conveyancing side of the practice, but because of a weak heart he now found it necessary to have a secretary who would take an active part in helping him to decide which estates or similar properties should come under his jurisdiction.

  Lorna quickly adapted herself to her new job. She had to travel a great deal and was frequently away from London visiting remote places in Berkshire, Warwickshire and Northumberland. Travelling round the countryside she knew more than ever how impossible it would have been to have given up her homeland. The luminous green of the grass might not compare favourably with the lush meadows of southern Portugal, nor could the bays and inlets of Devon or Cornwall, with its red-gold sand and rough grey sea, compare with the glowing Praia da Rocha or Serra d'Arribada, yet it meant so much more to her. Difficult to believe that the ties of home could be so strong.

  Occasionally she wondered whether Derek had purposely recommended her to this job, whether he had hoped that by strengthening her love of the countryside he would accentuate the difference between her and Rafael. If that had been his intention he was only succeeding in part, for although in her journeyings she grew to love England more, she also found herself wondering what compensation there was in the landscape that could compare with Rafael's kisses and the tender strength of his arms.

  The time flew by, Christmas was nearly here, and before she knew it her birthday loomed ahead. Derek invited her to a dinner-dance to celebrate, but she refused.

  'Aunt Marion wants to give a party for me and I cant disappoint her. There'll only be a few people, but it should be fun.'

  'I'm sure it will,' Derek said stiffly. "You needn't tell me how popular you are.'

  'I didn't mean that at all! If you want to pick a quarrel…'

  'I don't.' He caught her hand. 'But you can't blame me for being jealous. Ever since you've come back you've held me at arm's length. You've altered Lorna. You've made more friends in the last few months than you've ever had before.'

  'You should be pleased. Don't you want me to have any friends?'

  'Of course, but - damn it, Lorna, you're different, that's all.'

  Stirred at the perplexity in his voice, she put her hand on his arm. 'I haven't changed fundamentally, Derek. I know I'm not the same girl who went away six months ago, but then everybody alters.'

  'I don't mind you altering,' he said fiercely, 'as long as you don't leave me behind in the process.' She said nothing and he continued: "You've never told me why you broke your engagement to Rodriguez and I don't want to know, but I took it to mean that you've finished with him. I can't offer you as much as he could, but at least we both think alike and I love you with all my heart.'

  'Derek, I—'

  'Please, Lorna, let me finish. I know you're not in love with me. That's what you were going to say, weren't you? Well, it doesn't matter. I've got enough love for two of us, and once we're married you'll forget Rodriguez. I'll make you forgot him. Please, Lorna, say you'll marry me.'

  'I don't - I can't!' She turned and stared blindly out of the window. 'I know you've never spoken about Rafael, and — and thank you for not asking any questions. You've been awfully patient and sweet, but at the moment I can't think of marrying anyone. It's too soon.'

  'Nearly three months.' He moved to her side and put his hands on her shoulders, drawing her towards him.

  She tensed nervously in his amis, but did not move away.

  Three months,' he repeated. 'It's a long time, Lorna. Long enough for you to know that he's not going to follow you. I've given him his chance, but he's not taken it, and now it's up to me. I can't put what I feel for you into flowery words, but I love you just as deeply as - as anyone else. I want you to marry me, Lorna, and you can't expect me to wait for ever.'

  Although the matter was left in abeyance Lorna knew she could not postpone her decision much longer, and her approaching birthday was coloured by the knowledge that this was the day Derek would choose for his reply. She longed to refuse him, but her sincere fondness for him and her aunt's assertion that no woman was truly happy living alone made her hesitate. Perhaps it would be best to accept Derek after all. Surely in making him happy she would find some contentment too?

  In an effort to forget that she would soon be committing herself to a man she did not love, Lorna threw herself into the preparations for her party. The furniture was moved from the living-room and the carpets turned back to leave a small square for dancing. The family silver was taken out and polished and the kitchen piled high with delicately cut sandwiches, gateaux, and a large birthday
cake in the shape of a question mark.

  As there was still so much preparation to do for the party Lorna asked Mr. Browning if she could leave early, and he readily agreed.

  Lorna arrived at the flat to find her aunt rushing excitedly from one room to the other. She started to help to carry in the dishes and drinks, pretending to a light- heartedness she did not feel. She stood for a moment in the hall wondering where she would have spent her birthday if she had not run away from Portugal: in some strange land on a terrace under palm trees, being toasted across a table for two, Rafael's eyes warm and tender as he raised his glass.

  Don't stand there dreaming,' her aunt said severely. 'Come down to earth.'

  'Sorry, darling. What do you want me to do?' 'Nothing, everything's ready. Go and change or you'll be late.'

  Lorna went up to her room and stopped in surprise at the magnificent spray of pale green orchids on the bed. The card attached was from Derek, and with a little sigh she unclipped it and placed the blooms on the dressing- table. Each petal curled into the next, the delicate fronds' speckled with gold, shading to pink at the heart. They brought the garden at Estoril vividly to mind and she had only to close her eyes to see the riot of blooms that bordered the long green lawns, the exquisite flowers and plants that opened to the blazing sun. She shook her head and firmly brought her mind back to the present In half an hour her guests would be arriving and unless she hurried she would be late.

  In honour of the occasion she had bought a dress of ruby red velvet, trimmed with soft white fur. Skilful use of cosmetics could transform any Cinderella into a princess, she thought ironically some fifteen minutes later, for the delicately made up sophisticate that stared back at her in no way resembled the wan, unhappy- looking girl who had come into the room earlier. She turned from her appraisal as her aunt came into the room with a letter.

  'I forgot to give you this, it came today from Portugal.'Lorna took the letter with trembling hands, her pulses showing as she recognized Amalia's writing. Carefully she opened it and began to read.