Paradise Island

by Hilary Wilde

  tortoises in the shallow water, she knew something , . . And yet it was so crazy, so impossible, so incredible that she knew she must forget it at once. She must not think about it again. Must wipe . it out of her mind. It couldn't be, mustn't be true . . . Telling herself this almost hysterically, she still knew the truth. This was something she could never forget. She was in love with Roland Harvey. How long she lay there on the sands, still and scared, she did not know. This was something too big for her to handle. She couldn't be so foolish. It was asking for trouble, for pain, sorrow, heartache. Then something made her look at her watch and she leapt to her feet in dismay. She had less than five minutes in which to get back to the hotel, change into a frock and join Nick. She turned to run, giving one last look towards the lagoon, and saw that Roland Harvey was on his feet, staring after her, and that Deborah was jumping up and down by his side, obviously telling him something. Was she saying that Miss Woubin was like Cindewella, that she had to go at three o'clock? Would that make him wonder? Make him suspicious? Yet why should it? He probably forgot all about her the instant he left her side. To Roland, she was just an unsophisticated, rather silly young girl. That was how he saw her. And that was something she must remember ... She was running towards the hotel when Mrs. Lindstrom stopped her. As usual immaculate, she wore a blue sun-frock. "Miss Roubin," she said sharply, "what have you done with Deborah?" Somehow Lauren managed to move past her, saying: "Sorry, but I'm late, Mrs. Lindstrom. 57 Deborah is quite all right. I left her with Mr. Harvey." "You left her with?" Mrs. Lindstrom began,but Lauren did not wait to hear any more. There was a strange look on Mrs. Lindstrom's face, butLauren could only think of one thingthat Nick would be waiting for her and she didn't want to make him angry. And whatever happened, she knew, she must never let Nick guess her secret. If he knew that she was in love with Roland Har-veyor thought she was, as he would surely say he would do his best to make it impossible for her to see Roland Harvey again. 58

  CHAPTER FOUR

  IT WAS to be a whole week before Lauren saw Deborah again. At first it did not worry her very much, for the days slipped by so easily that she was hardly aware of the passage of5 time. Each day she spent on the hot white sands,and she had discovered a discreet pathway that wound in and out through many flowering bushes and which allowed her to reach the sands without using the wide road where most people walked. She acquired the habit of slipping out of the hptel very early every morning and going along this pathway to the part of the beach she preferred, by the solitary palm tree and the little pool. As very few hotel guests walked as far along the' sands as that, she had it almost entirely to herself. Lying there contentedly in the sunshine, writing letters or just dreaming, she did not really miss Deborah. Sometimes when she thought of the child, she wondered where she was, but it did not actively worry her until the seventh day. She kept telling herself that it was really all for the best. If Deborah came to see her, there was every chance that Roland Harvey would too, and although one half of her longed to see him, the other, saner, more sensible half agreed that it was best for him to stay away. Her love was doomed to be only a source of pain to her. All the dreaming in the world could not make her think otherwise. Even if Roland Harvey saw her as a womana woman ready for lovethere would still be no hope for her. He was determined not to marry. 'Hadn't he told her 59 so? And despite Deborah's wide-eyed certainty that he was to be her new father, Lauren thought it extremely doubtful. Somehow she could not see him as the lovely Leila Lindstrom's husband. Somehow she could not see him as anyone's husband. The days seemed to fly byliving to a routine as she did ensured that. There were fresh dances to be practised every afternoon, then the hairdresser to visit as he colour-rinsed and twisted her hair into the strangest of colours and shapes, and then came the long time she took to bath, dress and make up in accordance with Nick's instructions. Next would come the ever-increasing thrill of waiting for the drums to roll, and then it was time to give Nick her hand and let him lead her out on to the floor, and everything else would be forgotten in the excitement and wonder of the dance and the ever-satisfying roar of applause. She had grown used to mingling with the guests afterwards, dancing with them, laughing with them, refusing the champagne that was always offered to her, bearing their teasing goodhumouredly when she insisted on having tomato juice. She loved her beautiful gowns, each one so differentthe gracious white satin gown, designed like a lily; the pale lilac gown that was just a froth of organdie with an ostrich feather bodice; the dramatic scarlet sheath with the hidden fullness of skirt; the cream satin crinoline with the great loops of scarlet roses on the skirt. Each gown was designed for a special series of dances, for a theme; each evening there was a different motifsometimes happiness, sometimes tragedy. It was more than mere dancing; Nick was an artist. It was fun to learn the different dances to practise the verve and abandon of the Spanish dance, the subtle nuances of the Japanese, the gaiety of the Irish, the formality and precision 60

  of the Scottish, and then there was always the sheer beauty of straight ballroom dancing. She loved the graceful beauty of the waltz, the dignity of the slow fox-trot, the tangos that Nick danced with such grace and arrogance. In fact, had she been asked which was her-favourite dance, she would have found it hard to decide. She loved them all. Of course always there was the fear that one day she would meet Roland Harvey face to face, that he would ask her for a dance, recognize her and ... Whenever she got to this stage, her thoughts balked. What would he do, say? Fortunately he rarely appeared in the ballroom in the evenings; even when he dined there, he usually vanished soon afterwards. Luckily, too, she had not comein contact with Mrs. Lindstrom although Nick was sure that Leila Lindstrom would not recognize the young unsophisticated Lauren in thebeautiful, glamorous Natalie Natal. Not that seeing Roland Harvey preventedLauren from thinking about' him. As she lay on the warm sands, eyes shut, hidden by the dark glasses, she would try to analyze her feelings if she were his wife . . . would she gladly see him go off on an expedition down the dangerous Amazon? Or would she cling to him and tearfully beg him not to go? Wouldn't she be like any other womantry to persuade him to seek a safe job,a job from which he came home each night, a job in which she could share his interests, be close to him? How had her mother managed and remained so serene? It was on the seventh day that she began to worry about Deborah. Could Mrs. Lindstrom have left the hotel? There was an English girl in charge of the linen on Lauren's floora pretty girl called Rene Thompson, who was normally a nurse but who 61 had taken this job, she said, because she was tired of English winters. Tall, thin, with straight dark hair falling over one eye, she knew Lauren only as Lauren, never being around when Lauren turned into Natalie, with her exotic makeup and extravagant costumes. One morning, hurrying down to the beach, Lauren stopped by the linenroom where Rene Thompson was checking the bed linen and towels with the African maids. "Want something?" Rene asked with a friendly smile. "In a way," Lauren said. "I wondered if you had seen little Deborah Lindstrom about. I haven't seen either the child or her mother for a week. I was wondering if they had left, or if the child was ill." She wondered why Rene smiled strangely and said:' "No, she's not ill. Just being kept on ice." "On ice?" Lauren said, puzzled. Rene said something to the maids and then strolled down the corridor with Lauren. She looked very pretty and competent in her lilac nylon overall. "Surely you know," Rene said in a low confidential voice, "that Mrs. Lindstrom is trying to hook the boss and is using the child as bait? We get it on the local grapevine. It seems that the bait was wandering away from Mama and enticing the boss to another lady." Her eyes were significantly amused as she looked meaningly at Lauren. "How did you work it, you clever girl?" she asked. Lauren's cheeks were hot. "I didn't work it!" she exclaimed. She was startled and shocked to think of the gossip that was apparently going round the hotel. And she had thought no one would notice her! Rene put her finger on the side of her nose and smiled. 62

  "You're too modest, Miss Roubin. You're something of a mystery, too. Tell me,
how come you're such a nice, innocent-looking little girl mornings and then in the middle of the afternoon and evening you become the exotic, fabulous Na-talie Natal?" Dismayed, Lauren faced her. "Does everyone know?" she asked. Rene Thompson chuckled. "But of course. You haven't a hope of hiding anything from the grapevine hereyou were mad to think so." Lauren's mouth was dry. "Mr. Harvey . o ." she began. "Obviously doesn't know," Rene Thompson supplied the words. "I suppose you had to pay through the nose to keep the Hunter's ugly mouth shut?" Startled, Lauren stared at her. "I don't know ... I mean. Nick handled it all . . ." "I bet he had to," Rene said. "Just like she takes a slice off our salaries," she added bitterly. Lauren stared at her in amazement. "Does she? Surely she can't do that?" "Can't she? She most certainly does. If you cavil about it, you get the sack. Oh, very politely and most reasonably. There's always a perfectly legitimate reason why you have to leave, but leave you do, and quick. Unless you're prepared to pay Hunter a sliceand believe me, it's a pretty generous one." "I don't get paid," Lauren said. "I'm working for the Cartwright School of Dancing, so" "But I bet your handsome Nick earns something on the side from dancing lessons. I bet she gets a slice out of that," Rene Thompson said. Suddenly she was laughing. "Don't look so stricken. It isn't the end of the world. But it's the reason why the staff keeps changing. Some of us can take it for so long, and then we rebel against the injustice of it.. Still, you've nothing to moan 63 abouta nice easy job, a gorgeous brute of a man to dance with, and Roland Harvey himself sneaking off to meet. you on the sands. You're doing pretty well for yourself." "He didn't sneak off," Lauren said indignantly. Rene was laughing. "Whatever he did, we all admire you for itbut don't count on it getting you far. You haven't a hope, for you're far too nice a girl. In this battle for a man, no holds are barred." Lauren was beginning to wish she had never stopped to talk to Rene Thompson. "I don't understand," she said stiffly. Rene stared at her. "Really? Surely you know that the poor man is already being tussled over by Mrs. Leila Lindstrom and by the Hunter herself?" "Miss Hunter?" Lauren gasped. They were standing in a quiet angle of the corridors; they could see down both corridors so that there was no danger of being overheard. Lauren felt dazed. Was Miss Hunter so greedy and unprincipled? No wonder the staff was constantly changing. What would Roland Harvey say if he knew? What would he think of his wonderful, efficient Miss Hunter, whom he trusted so implicitly? "Sure, why not?" Rene Thompson was saying. "She nearly caught old H6race Harvey. Maybe she'd have succeeded if he hadn't had that stroke. She was pretty mad, and we all suffered when she heard that he had left her nothing. She was always sucking up to him and being oh, so charming!" Lauren felt suddenly sick. "You hate her, don't you?" she said. Rene tossed her hair back. "Sure I hate her, and with good cause. I need every penny I can earn. I don't tell people as a rule, but I was in hospital sick for a long time, and now my mother 64

  is ill. I want to save enough to get her out pf England and give her a good rest, and when I have to hand over some of my hard-earned money to thatthat vulture . . . well, I'm afraid I see red. Anyhow, the Hunter wants this hotel for her own, and she means to get it, by fair means or foul. The betting is pretty even on the two ofthem, and now you've come along to throw a spanner in the works. Good for you!" Rene smiled ather. "But ... but I'm not in it," Lauren said, and saw that Rene did not believe her. "He just sees me as a child, a child like Deborah. That reminds me, what did you mean about Deborah being kept on ice?" Rene chuckled. "Just that Mrs. Lindstrom won't allow the child to wander about the beach any more. Mornings she's put in the nursery with the other unwanted kids, afternoons Mrs. Lindstrom hopefully takes her on the beach, but so far Mr. Harvey has kept away. Mrs. Lindstrom must be mad with him and with you. Watchout for her, these women can be dangerous. Well, so long, I'd better get back to my job. Good hunting!" Rene said, touching Lauren lightly on the arm. "But don't count on winning," she said witha laugh as she turned away. Lauren hurried to the beach and her favourite place. She felt shocked and somehow as if she needed a bath. There had been such venom in Rene Thompson's voice, and yet she could sympathize with her. How maddening it must be to have Miss Hunter take part of your money. It was also a shock to realize that the staff knew that she was both Natalie Natal and Lauren Roubin. Somehow she had not thought of there being gossip in a hotel. Had Nick? Perhaps he had felt sure that no one would betray a fellow employee.

  But that the gossip should be that she was trying to trap Roland Harvey! It made her squirm and want to run and hide. Yet was it really a terrible thing to try to make a man love you? Hadn't women often had to fight for the man they loved? Fight to win his love ... But it all made it sound so horribly sordid. When she loved, a man, she wanted him to do the chasing. What sort of love was it when you had tohorrible expressionhook a man? "Oh, there you are, Miss Roubin," a voice said sharply. Lauren opened her eyes and sat up, blinking up at Mrs. Lindstrom, who stood holding a very subdued Deborah by the hand. "Where have you been hiding yourself all this time, Miss Roubin?" Mrs. Lindstrom askedjust as if Lauren had deliberately avoided them. "Deborah has been most unhappy." Lauren scrambled to her feet. The elegant Mrs. Lindstrom always made her feel at a disadvantage, so there was no reason'to make it worse by being forced to stare up at her. "I've been here every day," she said. She smile^ at Deborah, who smiled back, her eyes wary. "I've missed Deborah, too." "Can I stay with Miss Woubin?" the child asked meekly. Her mother inclined her head. "Yes, if Miss Roubin doesn't object. I'll see you later." She walked off, hardly bothering to look at Lauren, who thought how slim and elegant she was in her white swim-suit, and how very rude she could be. "Oh, Miss Woubin, I've missed you so," Deborah said, hugging her warmly. "I hate that nursery." Her voice was trembling. "They're all such babies, and they cry and fight and . . ." Lauren held Deborah's small sticky hand tight66