Tree of Paradise
Page 5
But what a plunge from her blissful euphoria of last night! Where had the magic gone? The natural loveliness which had inspired her mood then hadn't changed. The sea and the sky, the warmth and the peace were still all there; only today's personal dashes were the despoilers. She hated quarrels, and she hated this old one because, through no fault of her own, it tore her two ways.
Odd, that yesterday she had been unmoved by, had even welcomed the thought of having to see little or nothing more of Elyot Vance, and yet today she had resented Wilmot's edict against him. Whose side was she on, for goodness' sake? Two encounters with the man, both of them weighted against her, yet if he did keep his distance in future, she was actually going to miss a 'challenge which could be likened to the abrasive rub
of sandpaper on the skin—painful, but stimulating at the same time.
So just how illogical, in the space of twenty-four hours, was it possible to get?
CHAPTER THREE
IT seemed that Wilmot saw nothing questionable in his having allowed Donna to make her own first foray to the plantation, and whereas in London and on the journey over she had visualised his being ready and willing to give the information which her father would want to hear, it was she who had to ask the questions and then to edit the lacklustre answers so as not to paint too dismal a picture of conditions on Louvet in her first letters home.
Of the Dial House incident she said nothing. Her father probably did not realise it still existed, and her own mishap would only worry him. She mentioned having met Elyot Vance, and for Laraye itself she was full of enthusiasm. There was time enough, she felt, to tell more when she knew more of the complicated issues at stake.
She swam and sunbathed every day; made one tentative suggestion that she might help in the office with paper work for the estate—an offer which Wilmot refused; went down to the town by jitney, the local bus, to shop for Juno in the markets, and at unpredictable intervals had fleeting encounters with Bran, who usually seemed to be on his way to or from somewhere else.
She walked often in the plantation where a few men worked, though not regularly and never, during Donna's first two or three weeks, on the weekly crop-consignment day, when they and their womenfolk defected, freelance, to Marquise and other estates to earn more than Wilmot paid them, by helping to harvest
and grade and pack and despatch that week's crop for refrigerated shipment to England by the fleet of white cargo-ships which ran shuttlewise back and forth across the Atlantic.
During those weeks Louvet cropped nothing for consignment. That was how it was, Wilmot grumbled. If you harvested too soon the crop would be rejected as unready; if you left it too late you risked over-ripeness or theft. According to Wilmot the small grower just couldn't win; the titans like Marquise couldn't lose.
Marquise could corner the market in labour. Marquise could afford to spray by air against disease and pests. Marquise could build modern sheds for grading and packing. Marquise could coddle its growing crops in polythene. Marquise could keep five hundred acres in continual cultivation ... so what could the small man do against competition like that? None of which seemed to Donna to add up to one good reason for Wilmot's retention of Louvet in face of Elyot Vance's willingness to relieve him of it. But that was an argument which at this stage of her ignorance she dared not put forward.
It was on the Saturday of her third week that Bran suggested taking her to dine at the Allamanda and to be 'introduced around'. Margot le Conte was giving a cocktail party to the hotel guests and had suggested that he should take Donna along.
`Do we have to go down in the mini-moke?' she asked, fearful for her hair-do and an evening dress in that primitive vehicle.
`No. Dad will let us have the car,' Bran promised. 'And doll up a bit, won't you? Those American women tourists do rather tend to lay on all they've got by way of window-dressing in the evening. You don't want to look country cousin by contrast.'
Meaning you don't want me to look country cousin
to your friends, thought Donna as she 'dolled up' to the best of her ability in one of the lightweight evening dresses she had brought with her. It was of mist-grey chiffon over a satin underslip, the skirt falling from an Empire-style high bodice of silver lurex. She wore silver slippers, carried a silver tapestry bag and piled her hair high under a silver net snood.
Bran approved. Juno did not. 'Grey colour—dat for old women. Red, yellow, nice pink for young girl like you, Missus Donna. Gay shawl,' she advised. Wilmot grudgingly allowed that he supposed she looked 'all right'. Donna herself had liked what her mirror had shown her, and went out to meet her evening in a light-hearted party mood.
Violon Point was one 'horn' of the almost landlocked Violon Bay, one of the show-places of the island. The Allamanda Hotel, a long split-level building behind a many-arched colonnade of latticed stonework, faced the palm-fringed shore on a lengthy frontage. Every balcony on every floor was hung with trails of bougainvillea and morning glory, and the wide lawns behind the building were ablaze with the golden bells of allamanda blossom which gave the place its name. Though it was not long after dusk when Bran and Donna arrived, flood-lamps were already lighting and silhouetting the tops of the palms against the sky, and beyond the range of the lights, the deep jungle green of the surrounding heights had turned to impenetrable black.
`It's quite a place,' murmured Donna in admiration. `And quite a gal in possession,' returned Bran. 'Come and meet her. She's dying to meet you.'
`Dying? She can't be
`She says so.'
And that, Donna was to realise before the evening was out, was the very essence of the just-that-bit-larger-
than-life character which was Margot le Conte.
Her greeting for Donna the stranger was a kiss on each cheek and a murmured, 'Darling! Bran didn't say how pretty you are'—a compliment which might have pleased Donna more if she hadn't noticed that almost every other one of Margot's guests, including the men, was made welcome with a similar double kiss and word of flattery, implying a warmth which, Donna decided, Margot couldn't possibly feel for them all.
She spoke by gesture almost as readily as in the deep contralto of her voice. Everything she said or did was touched with extravagance, over-emphasis. With her, a beckoning finger became an imperious movement of her whole hand in her direction. She used it to call servants and guests alike, who, when she had done with them, were dismissed with an equally exaggerated backward wave. She smiled often, showing excellent teeth behind parted full lips. She carried her head on a long slender neck; her features were fine-drawn, her small nose a perfect aquiline; her skin—face, throat, bare arms and shoulders—had the velvet glow of a ripe peach; the heavier side of her black hair hung provocatively forward; her eyes were 'so dark as to be nearly black. In a bronze sheath of a dress which revealed every curve of her slim body she was as lissom as a yearling cat, as physically delicate as her manner was poised and assured. If she were indeed a tycoon she was a devastatingly glamorous one. In contrast with her, every other female in the room, including herself, had the makings of a country cousin, thought Donna, watching her.
She detached Donna from Bran almost at once, carrying her off in a babble of introductions to other people. It soon became apparent that it was as much a party for Margot le Conte's own friends as it was for her hotel clients, and after a time and some circulation the
two sets tended to separate. Presently again some people drifted away to the dining-room, others of the locals thanked their hostess and went home, leaving behind a few lingerers from the hotel set and a nucleus of Margot's own friends who had gathered to sit at a long oval table, seemingly prepared to make an evening of it for drinks and talk. Elyot Vance wasn't among them; he hadn't appeared at the party at all; surprising Donna who, after Wilmot's drear prophecy that she -would have to meet him in the Allamanda set, had fully expected him to be there.
Meanwhile Donna's healthy young appetite was signalling its willingness, to dine, and she looked abou
t for Bran. But he was part of the hard core of the group at the table, and when she failed to catch his eye, she despaired of dinner in the immediate future. Instead she wandered off alone towards the soft murmur of the sea, lapping just below one of the arches of the ground-floor colonnade. She went to lean upon the waist-high stone balustrade where the flowers from the arch on the floor above trailed low enough to, form a kind of scented pelmet for this one.
Behind her, people passed and repassed on their way to or from the car-park, but she was left alone to enjoy the night sounds and the sea sounds and the teasing of a tiny breeze until someone halted behind her and waited for her to turn about.
It was Elyot Vance. Without preliminaries he said, 'I told myself, "That's a back view I know," and it was. How is the sunburn?'
Taken by surprise, she laughed awkwardly. 'I've tanned now, and I don't burn,' she said.
`And the mosquitoes?'
`They've left me alone since that first day.'
`And the grazed wrist?'
`That's better too. You make me sound terribly
disaster-prone,' she added.
'Well, you weren't exactly among the blest of the gods when we last met, were you?' he countered easily. 'But why are you alone? What about the party?'
'It isn't over. I was waiting for my cousin to take me in to dinner.'
'Still involved, is he? And you're hungry?'
'Tending that way.'
`So let's go and prise him free.'
As soon as they appeared Margot hurried over from where she had been standing by the table, her hand on the shoulder of one of her men guests.
She held her arms wide to Elyot and offered her cheek for him to kiss. `Elyot, you're late,' she said, and to Donna, 'Clever of you to corral him, darling. Where?'
'I found her,' Elyot answered for Donna. 'Alone, communing with the night, but about ready to start chewing the carpet in need of her dinner.'
Margot commiserated, 'You poor lamb! I'll call "Time, gentlemen," to Bran this very next minute. But you, Elyot, you wretch, why are you so late? I declare, you've been cinq a sept with another woman!'
He laughed and pulled a strand of her swinging hair. 'When I spend useful afternoon hours with a woman, that'll be the day,' he said.
'Before now, you've spent an afternoon with me!' 'Talking business.'
'But not all the time!' Margot sparkled archly. 'Any-way, come and have a drink and I'll tell Bran he must take Donna in to dinner—or else!'
But when Bran had detached himself from the group of drinkers Elyot declined a drink. 'Maurice Couseau and I had one together at the Yacht Club, and I'm driving,' he said.
'You'll dine, though?'
`I'd like to, yes.'
Bran looked at Margot. 'Then make a foursome of it, why don't we?' he suggested,
Margot hesitated. 'Yes, well ' But Elyot took her
masterfully by the elbow.
`I'm hungry too,' so you'll eat now and like it,' he ordered.
The whole length of one side of the dining room was open to the warm night. Electric fans whirred from the ceiling, and a steel band beat out dance-rhythms at intervals for people to dance between courses. Margot had a word or two with her head waiter, approved the position of the table he offered, and before she sat down, made a tour of the other tables, chatting briefly with each of the guests.
When she rejoined the others Elyot quipped, `The conscientious keeper making sure all his valuable charges are fed and happy, eh?' At which she snapped a finger and thumb smartly against his hand.
`All part of the service, man,' she said. 'When I make you co-director of the Allamanda, you'll learn how a little bonhomie pays.'
During the meal that was the keynote of their exchanges—a slightly brittle scoring-off each other, playfully by Elyot, less so by Margot, whose repartee was occasionally touched with malice. They evidently knew each other very well, thought Donna, envying them a little an association which seemed to shut other people out. Yet how close they really were it was difficult to tell.
The four were waiting for their coffee to be brought when Elyot asked Margot to dance. When they walked out on to the floor they were the only couple on it, and soon after they began to dance it was as if by common consent that they were left to a display which was not far short of exhibition quality.
The syncopated beat of the drums slowed and quickened, repeating phrases over and over, now sonorous, now wailing in the accompaniment to the repetitive words of a calypso, all in a perfectly maintained monotonous tempo. And, encouraging and rejecting in turn Elyot's stylised advance and retreat, Margot forsook all decorum in her abandonment to the dance; in turn sensuous, provocative, tempting her partner and repulsing with mimed modesty the implicit invitation of his approach.
Her steps were nothing remarkable, an easy heel-andtoe movement only. All her expression was in her theatrical use of hands and arms, slim body, arched throat and wildly flung black hair. The whole performance became a man-to-woman question and answer, and Donna, fascinated, thought, To this extent they know each other very well. They've done this together often before.
The music stopped, their audience clapped them off the floor and several other couples moved on to it. Back at the table, poised and collected again, Margot ordered sharply, 'Bran, do your duty by your pretty cousin—take her to dance,' but Elyot cut in, 'My privilege before a mere cousin,' and held out his hand to Donna.
She went with him, dreading the inevitable contrast with Margot's expertise. But to her surprise and half relief, half chagrin that he didn't expect her to compete, he took her in his arms and steered her smoothly through the same old-fashioned slow foxtrot which the older couples were doing. Tactful of him, of course. But a shade belittling, all the same!
Presently Margot and Elyot danced with other people and Bran asked Donna if she wanted to. But she said no, and then urgently, 'Bran, what does cinq a sept mean?'
He looked at her sharply. 'Why, "five till seven", of course. You can count to ten in French, surely?'
'Of course I can But what does it mean?'
'In what connection?:
'Well, when Elyot Vance arrived late, Margot accused him of having been "cinq a sept" with another woman, and he had to laugh it off.'
'Yes, well—' Bran sounded embarrassed—it's a French vulgarity for accusing a man of spending the late afternoon, say five o'clock till seven, with his girl-friend before going home to dinner with his wife.'
'Oh,' said Donna blankly.
'What do you mean—oh?' Bran retorted. 'Why the surprise? I told you the kind of terms they're on. And you've seen them together.'
'Yes, but—'
'And Margot's not the girl to be too delicate about claiming her monopolies, especially with another one there to be warned Keep Out.'
'But I was the only one there to hear her,' Donna objected.
'And you're feminine and you came in with Elyot, didn't you?'
'Yes, but she couldn't have thought-! '
'That you were any competition? No, probably not,' Bran agreed with cousinly candour, adding sagely, 'But I imagine women at the top like Margot don't care to suspect anyone of trying to climb their private ladder —anyone at all.'
As that dance ended they saw a desk clerk approach Margot, and after speaking to him and excusing herself to her partner, she came back to the table, followed by Elyot. When he waited for her to sit she gestured, 'No,' adding to Bran, 'It's your buddies from Milwaukee. They're flying home tomorrow and they've taken a fancy for a last night-view of the island from the moun-
tains, so they want you to drive them.'
Bran groaned, 'Oh, no! It's my night off duty!' 'And he's been drinking,' Elyot put in.
`Only punches, and he's had a meal since. He's all right,' Margot ruled crisply. `No, Bran, I've sent back a message to say you'll go. Seems you've wormed your way into their affections and they won't have anyone else. Besides, The Customer Is Always Right.'
Bran grumbled
, 'You said it, ma'am—I didn't.' But he half rose, then stopped. 'How long for?' he asked.
'As long as they want to be out, of course.'
'I see. Maxim for maxim—he who pays the piper calls the tune, eh?'
'Exactly. It's the name of the game of success,' returned Margot smoothly. 'Go along now. They'll be waiting.'
'But what about Donna? Do I take her home first?'
'No, she can stay here until you come back. You probably won't be more than an hour away at most.' As he left, Margot added to Donna, 'Sorry about this, darling, but it's all business, and you didn't want to go home yet, did you?'
This being one of those questions expecting no for an answer, Donna said it, and Margot went on, 'Besides, I want to talk to you. Can you drive?'
Surprised, Donna said 'Yes.'
'And you've got one of those international licences?' 'Yes. Why?'
'Time on your hands too, I daresay? Not much going for you up there at Louvet, hm?'
'Well—' Donna hesitated, not sure where all this was leading. But as certainly, with Bran so often absent and Wilmot indifferent to her company, she was thrown much more on her own resources and Juno's than she had expected, she admitted she did have time to spare, and again asked, 'Why?'
`Because I've been thinking I could use you. How would you like to work for me? Doing the same as Bran—playing guide to my tourists?'
Donna's first reaction was of astonishment and recoil. 'Oh, I couldn't,' she demurred. 'I don't know the island as Bran does, and your roads are pretty hair-raising, aren't they?'
'If you enjoy driving and can, you'd soon get used to them. Besides, all my cars are automatic, and they eat out of your hand. And my idea was that, whenever Bran has only two passengers or one, you should go along with him for a while and learn the island. He tells me you spent some of your childhood here, so you probably will find you remember parts of it. And if, as he says too, you were hankering to come back, how else can you get to explore it in comfort and in company, tell me that?'