The Impossible Dream

by Hilary Wilde

  ‘I imagine Anarita’s guardian would have to be consulted,’ Megan said coldly.

  She saw the quick look that Gaston and his mother exchanged, so she went on: ‘Anarita, I have some shopping to do, so we must go. If you’ll excuse us, Madame Duval.’

  ‘So soon?’ Madame Duval looked disappointed and then she smiled at Anarita. ‘But perhaps it is not too soon.’

  Finally Megan managed to get Anarita away and they walked down the street towards the market. ‘We’re much too early, you know,’ said Anarita.

  ‘I know, but . . .’

  Why don’t you like me meeting the Duvals, Miss Crane?’ Anarita asked. ‘They’re nice people.’

  ‘I know, but . . .’ Megan hesitated. What could she say? Then she had a bright idea. ‘I think Mr Lambert is afraid you’d fall in love with Gaston.’

  ‘That layabout?’ Anarita’s scorn was harsh and startled Megan. ‘He lives off his mother and likes to think every girl falls for him. Well, I’m one who doesn’t. I like my men . . .’

  ‘To be older?’ Megan laughed.

  Anarita paused outside one of the big bazaars.

  ‘Let’s go in here. I hear they have some super silk scarves,’ she said. ‘Down at the end.’ She pointed to a crowd of plump Creole women in their bright dresses, all talking at the top of their voices, laughing happily, standing round a table.

  ‘It’s a bit of a crush . . .’ Megan began, holding back, but Anarita caught her by the hand.

  ‘Come on, Miss Crane. We just push like they do!’

  The scarves were there. They were silk, and beautiful colours. Megan picked one up in her hand to look at.

  ‘Isn’t it lovely, Anarita?’ she said to the girl by her side, turning to look at her.

  Her heart seemed to skip a beat, because Anarita wasn’t there! Dropping the scarf, turning round, trying to push her way through the crowd of women, Megan tried not to feel frightened, for surely Anarita was only playing her favourite game again? But it was a nightmare, as she forced her way through the groups, trying to find the girl, but she wasn’t in the bazaar, Megan was certain finally. Outside the bazaar in the hot humid air, she shook back her hair and looked up and down the street. Anarita was just having a rather stupid joke! She would find her demurely waiting for Frank and his car.

  But Anarita wasn’t there. Frank was, though, and Megan told him quickly what had happened.

  ‘Not again?’ he said, and frowned. ‘Honestly, Meg, I’d have thought you’d have more sense!’

  Megan’s eyes stung. That was hard coming from Frank. What would Craig say?

  ‘Anarita would go in the bazaar and there were so many people there, but it all happened so quickly. I spoke to her and looked round and she wasn’t there . . .’

  Frank frowned again. ‘That child needs a good spanking. It’s not my idea of a joke.’

  ‘Nor mine.’

  ‘Look, Meg, you search down that side of the street and I’ll do this side. I’ll bet she’s hiding somewhere just to see us looking worried. All that girl wants is attention.’

  ‘And love,’ Megan put in quickly.

  ‘She doesn’t deserve love when she deliberately gets you into these messes. We’ve asked her so many times not to get lost,’ snapped Frank, sounding exasperated.

  ‘I know. Well, I’ll try this side,’ Megan said miserably.

  It was hard going; fighting to get into a shop, fighting to walk round, looking everywhere, and then another fight to get out, so when Megan met Madame Duval walking slowly along the pavement, she almost ran to meet her.

  ‘Have you seen Anarita, Madame Duval?’ Megan asked, her face flushed and dusty, her hair hanging listlessly, her eyes tired.

  ‘Anarita?’ Madame Duval smiled. ‘I saw her go with you.’

  ‘I know she did. We went into a crowded bazaar and . . .’

  ‘She vanished?’ Madame Duval sounded amused. ‘Girls of that age have a weird sense of humour. Her mother was much the same. We wouldn’t think it funny, but she did. How she would laugh and . . .’

  ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ Megan said desperately, ‘but I’m afraid I must look for her.’

  ‘But of course,’ Madame said with a smile.

  As she left her, and pushed her way through the noisy crowds, Megan wondered why Madame Duval looked so amused. To Megan, it was not funny, not funny at all. Craig had been so patient with her, so tolerant—but if she had really lost Anarita this time, what would he say?

  At the end of the street, she stopped. She couldn’t see Frank in sight. Perhaps he had worked his way down faster than she had. She saw a public telephone box and on an impulse hurried into it.

  She got through to the Lambert School with blessed quickness, but the slightly sing-song voice of the young clerk who handled the school’s switch-board irritated her.

  ‘No, I don’t want Miss Tucker,’ Megan said, again and again. ‘I want Mr Lambert. It’s urgent.’

  ‘Urgent? You are hurt?’ the girl asked, sounding alarmed.

  Megan gripped the earpiece. Whatever happened she mustn’t cause a panic. ‘No, I just want to speak to him. It’s important. Tell him it’s Miss Crane.’

  ‘Oh, Miss Crane, of course! I didn’t recognise your voice!’ the girl said, her voice implying that only people like Miss Crane would make such a frenzied call. ‘I’ll try and get him.’

  Megan waited, as patiently as she could, aware that several people were queueing up outside and looking annoyed so that when at last she heard his voice she spoke impulsively.

  ‘Oh, Craig, thank goodness it’s you! I’m so worried. Anarita has vanished.’

  ‘Vanished?’ he echoed, sounding annoyed. ‘But you told me she often does it as a joke. Why this panic?’

  ‘Because I don’t think it’s a joke. I think it was planned. She chose the most crowded bazaar and we . . . she led the way through the crowds. Looking back, I think I . . .’

  ‘Have—as usual—made a mess of things,’ Craig said coldly. ‘All right, I’ll come out right away. Meet you at the market. By the way, you’re not to tell anyone that the girl has vanished. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, but . . .’ Megan began, but heard the receiver slammed down and replaced hers slowly. She had told Madame Duval. What would Craig say when he knew that?

  * * *

  Actually, to Megan’s surprise, Craig took the news that she had told Madame Duval very well.

  He had arrived at the market at the same time that Frank had joined her, looking irritated as he shook his head.

  ‘No sign of the kid, Meg,’ Frank had said. ‘When I get my hands on that girl, I’ll . . .’ he began, even as Craig’s car drew up.

  Craig leant out of the window. ‘Both get in sô we can talk,’ he said curtly.

  Megan and Frank obeyed. Craig drove a little further away to find a parking place, then turned and looked at her.

  ‘Start at the beginning. What happened?’

  Megan drew a deep breath. ‘Well, we . . . we were walking along and . . .’ She hesitated. Was it necessary to mention Tracy Thompson? She decided not, for it had no bearing on the subject at all. ‘We met Madame Duval and Gaston and they insisted on us having a cold drink. Actually it was Anarita’s idea.’

  Frank groaned softly and Megan looked at him.

  ‘How could I refuse without being rude?’ she asked. ‘After all, Anarita has known both Gaston and Madame Duval for years, ever since she was a child.’

  ‘Go on . . . you had cold drinks with them,’ said Craig. ‘And then?’

  ‘Well . . . well, I was a bit worried as I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about us being with the Duvals, so I said we must go to meet Frank . . . er . . . Mr Parr. Anarita pointed out afterwards that it was much too early and she’d heard that a certain bazaar had some wonderfully cheap things. We went in there. I tried to stop her, because it was so crowded, but she just went on, so I kept close to her. I was looking at a scarf and she was by my side, and then . . . then I turn
ed to speak to her and she was gone.’

  ‘Just like that?’ Craig asked. ‘How long were you looking at the scarf?’

  ‘Only a few minutes,’ Megan said desperately. ‘I hunted all through the bazaar and couldn’t find her, and then I saw Frank and he said we’d do one side each. It was then I bumped into Madame Duval, so I asked her if she’d seen Anarita and . . . I’m awfully sorry,’ she said again, looking at Craig worriedly. ‘If I’d known you didn’t want anyone to know I wouldn’t have told her.’

  Much to her relief and surprise, Craig smiled.

  ‘It was natural for you to ask if she had seen the girl, so don’t worry about that. I understand Anarita often plays this trick on you?’

  Frank spoke first. ‘She does, and I gave her a real talking-to, threatened never to bring her in again if she did it once more. I know how it upsets Meg.’

  ‘Naturally. Was Anarita her usual self today?’

  ‘She was very depressed. It seems she’d hoped to go to Rome for her holiday and had just heard from her guardian that she had to stay at school,’ Megan said.

  ‘Why did she mind so much? She’s often stayed at school.’

  ‘She said all the other girls were little kids. Could she have run away?’ Megan asked.

  Craig frowned. ‘I doubt it. No clothes and no money—as far as I know, that is. Did you get that impression?’

  ‘We did notice the schooner was in the harbour,’ Frank said. ‘And she was interested. That right, Meg?’

  ‘Yes, she seemed surprised. Oh!’ Megan’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Something else I forgot to tell you. When we were having cold drinks with the Duvals, Gaston was talking to me and then I found Anarita and Madame Duval were talking in Italian. I wondered what it was about, because Madame Duval seemed very pleased about something. When we first met her, she had been quiet and rather . . . well, miserable, if you know what I mean, but after talking to Anarita Madame Duval changed cornpletely. She even told Anarita she was like her mother, full of good ideas.’

  Craig sighed. ‘Look, I’m afraid this is a matter for the police. You’d both better come with me as you were the last to see her.’

  ‘The police?’ Megan was suddenly frightened. ‘You think she’s in danger?’

  Craig shrugged. ‘Anything can happen. That girl is my responsibility and as such, must be found. Whether she’s run away of her own accord or been kidnapped is neither here nor there. She has to be found.’

  ‘Kidnapped?’ Megan almost whispered the word. ‘Who’d kidnap her?’

  Craig looked at her, his face seeming to be made of stone, it was so hard and cold.

  ‘I wouldn’t put it past your charming Madame Duval,’ he said. ‘As I told you, she’d do anything to get the island.’

  ‘You mean the ransom could be the island?’ Megan said very slowly. ‘Do you really think they’d do that?’

  ‘I don’t know. Look, Frank, you follow us in your car. After we’ve seen the police, you take Megan back to the school. You’re neither of you to say anything. If asked where Anarita is, say she’s visiting friends and will be fetched later. However, you’d better tell Miss Tucker the truth. Understand?’ Craig’s voice was harsh. He looked at Megan. ‘That goes for you, too. Also tell Miss Tucker no one must know. Right?’

  ‘Yes. I’m so awfully sorry . . .’ Megan’s voice was unsteady.

  ‘I should have known better than allow her to come in with you,’ Craig said as Frank hurriedly left them, running back to where his car was parked.

  The police turned out to be courteous, but Megan got very tired of repeating the same story over and over again. Of course they were trying to trip her up, she thought, they had to make sure she was telling them the same each time. Well, she was. She was telling the truth.

  Frank drove her back to the school and both hardly spoke. Megan had the uncomfortable feeling that, for once, Frank blamed her for her carelessness, so it was a relief when, nearing the school, he smiled at her.

  ‘Don’t look so frightened, Meg. That kid’ll be all right. It wasn’t your fault. She can take care of herself.’

  ‘You think she ran away?’

  ‘I think she’s trying to frighten us . . . well, look, you know Anarita. She loves publicity. I wouldn’t mind betting she’s hiding somewhere in town and will let the press have some extraordinary story.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ Megan said miserably. ‘Now we’ve got to look normal. What do we do about Anarita?’

  ‘I think we’d better see Miss Tucker,’ Frank said with a rueful grin, ‘and get it over.’

  It was an unpleasant interview, with Miss Tucker’s cheeks and nose getting redder and redder, her voice more and more unsteady.

  ‘We should never have engaged you,’ she said angrily to Megan. ‘Never, in the past, have such things happened to us.’

  ‘It wasn’t Miss Crane’s fault,’ Frank said.

  Miss Tucker glared at him. ‘How can we trust you, either? You might both of you be in this. Never—ever—have we had such a scandal. One of our girls kidnapped!’

  ‘Miss Tucker,’ Frank chimed in, ‘Anarita may not have been kidnapped. She may have run away.’

  ‘Why should she run away from a school like this?’ Miss Tucker was indignant. ‘She was happy here.’

  ‘She wasn’t,’ Megan said. ‘She resented lots of things—especially having to spend the holidays here.’

  ‘That’s absurd! The girls have a pleasant time. In any case, that’s beside the mark. Anarita was in your care, Miss Crane, and you have failed to stand up to the responsibility entailed. This is the final thing. I shall speak most sternly to Mr Lambert about you . . .’

  ‘Mr Lambert said no one must know, Miss Tucker,’ Frank said, looking towards Megan. ‘He made that very plain. No one—but no one—must know,’ he added, his voice hard. ‘We’re only telling you. If anyone asks where she is, Mr Lambert says we’re to say she’s visiting some friends and will be back later.’

  ‘Will she?’ Miss Tucker said bitterly, twisting her hands together. ‘If she isn’t killed. That would be the end of everything. Never has this school . . .’

  ‘Come on,’ Frank said quietly to Megan as Miss Tucker walked towards the window, talking angrily, but as if to herself. ‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ he said quietly. ‘Remember we have to act as if nothing had happened. Probably they’ll have found Anarita by then, so try not to worry.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Megan said, smiling at him but seeing his face through a blur of tears.

  Alone in her flat, she saw the letter waiting on the table. It was from England, the writing faintly familiar. She opened it. The letter was from her father! She began to read it eagerly, but her pleasure became dismay as she read what he had written.

  ‘I was horrified to see your photo in the Sunday newspaper. What sort of people are you associating with out there? In any case, I think you must come back. Your Aunt Lily’s health seems to be deteriorating and you know I can do nothing, so the sooner you’re back the better.’

  Megan read it several times, puzzled. Somehow it didn’t read like her father’s normal speech. Maybe he was ill, too. Perhaps the arthritis had affected his hands, because the writing was odd, too. Go back? Was it her duty to go back if her father needed her? She went out on to the balcony. The blue lagoon was still, its lovely colour in the late sunshine strikingly beautiful. Go back? Go back to nurse Aunt Lily and her father, to listen to their perpetual quarrels, to know that nothing she could do would ever be right? Yet he was her father, after all.

  Megan dreaded the dinner, but Frank, as usual, helped her through it and, as few of the staff had decided yet to talk to her, there were no awkward questions. There was no sign of Craig, though, and that worried Megan very much. Surely if Anarita was just trying to frighten her or, perhaps, tease her—for somehow she couldn’t think of Anarita wanting to hurt her—surely if that was all it was, Anarita would have been found by now?

  Later, walking o
utside with Frank, talking quietly, Megan reminded him how once she had told him that she had the strangest feeling with Anarita that she was playing a game that Anarita was winning, and that Anarita, in addition, was aching with the desire to tell Megan all about it.

  ‘I know that sounds involved, but . . .’

  ‘I understand,’ Frank said thoughtfully. ‘But why should she want to play a game with you? No point in it if you didn’t know you were playing it.’

  Megan sighed. ‘I just don’t know. So long as she’s all right . . .’

  ‘I’m sure she is,’ said Frank. ‘Quite sure.’

  Megan looked at him. ‘I wish I could feel as sure!’

  She hardly slept that night and, waking with the dawn, she got up, quickly dressed and slipped down out of the school and then on down to the edge of the lagoon. There was a pathway alongside the water and she knew it could not be many miles. She had to do something about it all—had to face up to Patrick and Gaston and Madame Duval to make sure they were not in it.

  She reached the town at last and found her way to Patrick’s Studio of Dancing and to his house next door. Ringing the bell, she waited until the door was opened by their manservant, Victor. He looked startled.

  ‘Mr Crane? Tell him it’s his sister,’ Megan said, and walked into the house and straight to the lounge.

  It was quite a few moments before Patrick joined her, tying the belt round his dressing-gown, blinking sleepily as he gazed at her.

  ‘What the hell do you want at this hour?’ he demanded.

  ‘Is Anarita here?’ Megan said.

  ‘Anarita?’ He looked puzzled. ‘Oh, Anarita.’ His face broke up into a big smile. ‘Of course she’s not. Why?’

  ‘The police are looking for her,’ Megan said, and watched his face but he showed no dismay or fear. Ought she to have told him, she wondered, yet surely if Madame Duval knew, then it was certain she would have told Gaston and Patrick. ‘They think she may have been kidnapped.’

  ‘Kidnapped? I wish we’d thought of that,’ said Patrick. ‘We could have asked for a fortune or the island!’

  ‘Then someone has kidnapped her!’ said Megan. It was as if a hand was clutching at her throat, making it hard for her to breathe.