Sally Wentworth - Conflict In Paradise

by Sally Wentworth

  'If we keep climbing we'll come to a track that runs along the ridge of the mountain and comes out on the plateau above the village. It's a long way, but it will be the safest.'

  'The safest? Isn't the danger over now?'

  Tansy turned to look at him, her mud-streaked dress starting to dry in the sun. 'No. With all the earth from the valley floor swept away it undermines the higher ground and creates landslides. We have to get above the tree line,' she answered tiredly.

  Blake put his arm round her comfortingly. 'We can make it. We haven't survived this far to get killed in a landslide.' He kissed her lightly and then grinned. 'You look terrible!'

  Tansy smiled weakly back .'You don't look exactly a fashion plate yourself!'

  The next few hours were a nightmare that was to haunt her for the rest of her life. The going was rough and hard and her legs ached more with every step. Several times they heard an ominous rumbling sound and saw whole slices of the hillside move, slowly at first, and then with gathering momentum to crash and tumble into the valley taking trees and great lumps of rock in their wake. Without Blake she knew she would never have made it. Despite the punishment he had taken, from somewhere he still found the strength and endurance to help and encourage her over the long miles until they came at last to the plateau.

  With the trees gone, they had an uninterrupted view of the valley below them, but the familiar landmarks had changed completely in the few short hours since the earthquake. Tansy slid exhaustedly to the ground and just sat and stared, unable to take in the scene of devastation. Of the houses in the village only the few stone buildings, her own house among them, still stood. Of the thatched and wooden houses there was no sign, except for a sheet of corrugated iron that hung perilously from the branches of a high tree, and a few cooking pots still in place where once had been the kitchens of houses.

  'The clinic! It's gone!' she exclaimed in dismay. 'All my equipment, everything!'

  'We'd better get to the prison. I think I can see some people moving about outside it,' Blake said with worry in his voice. His anxiety for his men spurred him along and when Tansy flagged he simply picked her up and carried her.

  Relieved shouts greeted them as the people caught sight of them. Both soldiers and islanders, their enmity forgotten, came running to meet them. Ruari was there first and lifted her from Blake's tired arms to carry her into the prison.

  ]Thank God you're safe, Tansy. We've all been so worried about you. Are you hurt?'

  'No, just exhausted. Oh, Ruari, is everyone all right? Were many hurt?' she asked anxiously.

  'Everyone from the village took refuge in the prison. But the other villages…' He didn't have to finish; Tansy knew quite well that there were at least three other villages which were in the direct line of the tsunami.

  John Andrews and the soldiers were crowding around Blake. 'Have you radioed for help yet?' he was asking. 'What about the boat? Sergeant, take two men and see if you can find out what's become of it. John, I want a reconnaissance party sent out to find the extent of the damage to the island. Get the radio operator to send out an emergency message for medical supplies, emergency rations and tents. Tell them they can land light aircraft and helicopters on the plateau. Is the bulldozer still working? Then use it to clear the debris from this road into the valley.'

  Within a very short time he was directing the soldiers about a bewildering number of tasks, while the islanders tried to salvage what they could of their belongings. Tansy found that her own house, which was higher up the hill than most of the others, was not too badly damaged; the water had swept through the ground floor and left everything sodden and thick with sand and mud, including the radio transmitter, but the upper storey was completely untouched. Quickly she washed and changed out of her filthy clothes, then set some of the native women to work cleaning the downstairs rooms. With the clinic gone she would have to use the house as a makeshift hospital and knew that when the people caught in the tidal wave started being brought in she would need all the space and beds she could get.

  Ruari tried the generator but was unable to make it work, so all through the rest of the day and the long night, as more and more people were brought to her, she had to do her work as best she could by lamp and candlelight. Her own exhaustion pushed firmly to the back of her mind, she used the meagre supply of drugs that she had at the house to give local anaesthetics as she set broken bones, extracted huge splinters and sewed cuts and gashes.

  In the early hours Blake came with casks of fresh water, for the river water was now undrinkable. 'I've organised some of the men to refill the casks from the waterfall behind your house,' he told her. 'There's some of our food that we had over from the last shipment, too. I'm afraid the islanders' crops are completely ruined, but this should last until help gets here.'

  Tansy finished putting a woman's broken arm into splints; it was all she could do, she had already run out of plaster. 'Did you get a message out?' she asked wearily.

  'Yes, they're sending out supplies as soon as they can get them loaded aboard a plane. The Aparoans are making torches to light up a landing path so that it can land safely.'

  Tansy looked up at him. He ought to have been flat on his back, but, apart from a rather pallid look about his mouth, he seemed as capable as ever. He had changed into his uniform again and Tansy realised that he had trained for years to cope with emergencies such as this; he knew exactly what had to be done and in what priority, wasn't afraid to make decisions and made sure that they were carried out. She was extremely, thankfully, glad that he was there.

  She smiled slightly. 'Why don't you say, I told you so?'

  He raised an eyebrow mockingly. 'Now why should I do that?'

  'You know very well. You always said we needed an airstrip.'

  He grinned, but merely said, 'I'll get the medical supplies to you directly they come in. And I'll send one of my men to try and fix the generator as soon as it's light.' He put a finger under her chin, tilting her face to look into his. 'I know I can't tell you not to overwork yourself, but promise me you'll try to get some rest whenever you can.' He kissed the tip of her nose and went off into the night.

  The next three days seemed like one interminably long one as Tansy somehow coped with the never-ending stream of patients. The small aircraft brought her badly needed drugs and came back several times more before it was joined by a helicopter ferrying supplies from a ship out in the bay. The noise of the engines was increased by that of the army boat which had been swept inland, but Blake's soldiers had managed to repair it and put it back into service within a miraculous twenty-four hours. This brought the shocked, bewildered survivors from the smaller, coral islands, many of which had been almost completely engulfed by the huge tidal waves.

  Tansy kept herself going with the aid of stimulants, but felt a great, heartfelt surge of relief when, shortly after the plane had landed yet again, she turned round and saw her father standing in the doorway.

  'Daddy!' She flung herself into his arms and was held very, very tightly. 'Oh, Daddy, I'm so glad you've come!'

  He looked fit and well and she started to question him eagerly about his trip to Australia, but after one look at her white, drawn face, he ordered her straight to bed. 'Go and get some sleep. Don't worry, I've brought another doctor and a nurse with me. I've lots to tell you, but it can wait until you've had a good, long sleep.'

  From then on conditions improved tremendously; the other doctor, a young Australian, took it upon himself to travel round the islands with Ruari as interpreter; the most badly hurt patients were shipped out to be taken to hospital and the number of casualties gradually lessened. Blake and his squad of men continued to work indefatigably at clearing the river and roads, putting up dozens of tents for the homeless, handing out food supplies and, tragically, digging out those who had been buried beneath the landslides.

  'I have to hand it to the soldiers,' David Harland remarked as they took a breather out in the garden one afternoon a few da
ys later. They may have come here to perform an extremely unpleasant task, but their efforts have certainly minimised the scale of the disaster. That officer certainly knows his job.'

  'Yes. Yes, he does.' There were two bright spots of colour in Tansy's cheeks as she added, 'As a matter of fact, Daddy, I wanted to talk to you about that.' As yet they had both been too busy for her to tell him that she intended leaving Aparoa with Blake, and now that the moment had come she felt strangely shy and reluctant, knowing how her father would feel at the thought of losing her.

  'And I have something to tell you. Something extremely important,' her father interrupted before she could go on. 'You remember I told you I had met some old friends in Australia? Well, I—er…' Amazingly her usually self-possessed father seemed strangely embarrassed and unsure of himself as he flushed beneath his tan. 'Well, to be brief, one of them was the widow of an old colleague, and we saw quite a lot of each other and— well, we decided to make a go of it. We intend to be married very quietly as soon as I can return to Sydney,' he finished hurriedly, his face red.

  'Daddy!' Tansy stared at him in astonishment. 'But— but that's wonderful news! I'm so happy for you. Tell me all about her,' she commanded. 'What's her name? Has she any children? And when will she be coming to join you on Aparoa?' To Tansy it was indeed wonderful news, for now she would feel far less guilty about leaving him.

  David Harland smiled, pleased with her enthusiasm. 'Her name's Evelyn, and yes, she has three children, two married and one at college in Sydney.' Then,he looked at her a little uncertainly. 'But that's just it, Tansy. It's because of her children that she doesn't want to leave Australia, so I intend to buy into a practice there just as soon as my contract on Aparoa ends in a couple of months' time.'

  Completely stunned by his words, Tansy could only stand and stare at him wordlessly. Seeing the shocked look on her face, he hurried on, 'I know that this has come as a complete surprise to you, my dear, but I've done my best for Aparoa over the last twenty years and now I'm handing over to you. I know how much you love the island, and knowing that you will be here to carry on has given me the fortitude to break from it. I'm too old for all these changes that are taking place, too old to start all over again, but you're young enough to take things in your stride. With Ruari to help you and the boys being educated in Australia coming along, you'll be able to cope far better than I ever could.'

  When she still didn't answer he took her slack hands in his and said earnestly, 'Tansy, please try to understand. After your mother's death I shut myself away here, but this last trip to Australia, meeting old friends, catching up on all the things that have been happening in the world, has shown me just how wrong I was. I need them, Tansy. I need Evelyn and I need the home she's willing to make for me. I know how you must feel, but you'll be able to visit us as often as you like. If you hadn't said so many times that you loved Aparoa and never wanted to leave it, then perhaps I might have hesitated, but this is your home and I know how happy you are here.'

  Numbly Tansy returned the pressure of his hands and tried to smile. 'Yes, it's all right, I understand. You'll just have to give me a little time to get used to the idea, though.'

  He smiled in some relief. 'That's my girl! I knew you wouldn't let me down. In fact I've already submitted your name for my post when I handed in my resignation before I left Canberra. It's only a formality, of course, the authorities are bound to give you the job.'

  They turned to walk on together as Dr Harland went on eagerly to tell her about his future wife and her family. To Tansy it seemed that he had already gone from her; he seemed to be more a part of the new life he was so eager to get back to than of her own familiar surroundings, of which he had always been the main part.

  The knoll at the top of the cliffs had gone now, bulldozed out of the way so that the plane could land, so there was no familiar place for Tansy to sit and try to work out her problem after her father had gone back to the house. Slowly she wandered down to the beach and walked along until she found a rock where she could sit with her chin cupped in her hand and stare at the sea. His news had come as such a devastating shock that for a long time she felt too numb to think straight. She loved her father very much and he was happier now than he had been for years; there was a spring in his step and a new, enthusiastic air about him. But Tansy knew that if she told him about Blake he would insist on her leaving with him, would put her happiness before his own. And she knew that she couldn't do that to him. He had suffered enough in his life and deserved whatever happiness and joy he could get for the latter part of his life.

  He had said that he knew she wouldn't let him down and Tansy realised that that would mean not leaving Aparoa herself. One of them had to be there to take care of the islanders, especially now, after the double tragedy of losing their livelihoods and their homes. But to stay here would mean losing Blake.

  Miserably she tried to think of alternatives, but she was just chasing rainbows; she knew that her father's right to happiness came before her own. It was sunset before she left the beach, a beautiful, glorious sunset of deep orange over flaming purple, that set the sea on fire with colour. With reluctant feet, each step harder to take than the one before, she went slowly up to the prison and asked one of the soldiers to tell Blake that she wanted to see him.

  He came at once, his step brisk, an eager light in his eyes as he saw her.

  'I hope you didn't mind me coming to see you?'

  'I'm glad you did. I've been wondering when you'd be free enough to devote some time to me instead of your patients.' He drew her arm through his and walked her through the trees until they were out of sight of the prison buildings. 'I definitely contemplated cutting my finger or something so that I could get in the queue and at least see you that way.' In a small, quiet clearing where the leaves on the trees turned to silver in the moonlight, he stopped and drew her gently towards him. 'Darling, I've missed you so.' His kiss was gentle at first, but then his lips strayed to her throat, her neck, before returning with fierce insistence to her lips.

  Tansy clung to him shamelessly, her body arched against his with desperate yearning. She wanted this moment to go on and on for ever, never wanted it to end. Because when it ended she would have to do the hardest thing she had ever done. Reluctantly he lifted his head at last, his breath ragged, his hand unsteady as he raised it to touch her face wonderingly.

  'Tansy, my sweet girl,' he murmured thickly when he had recovered his breath a little. 'I've had orders to leave here in two days. NATO are sending others in to actually build the airstrip now that we've done all we can for the islanders. And now that your father and the other medical staff are here you'll be free to leave with me, won't you? Would you like me to talk to your father?'

  'No.' Tansy freed herself from the love and warmth of his arms and stepped away from him. It was the longest, hardest step she had ever taken in her life. 'I'm not coming with you, Blake.' She managed to say it quite firmly, but her heart was torn apart by divided loyalties.

  'You mean you can't be spared yet? That's a great disappointment. How long do you think it will be before you can follow me to England?'

  Painfully she said, 'I won't be coming at all. I've changed my mind.'

  He stared at her for a moment, the silence shattering in its intensity. Then he gripped her arms so tightly that she gave a little cry of pain. 'What are you saying? You can't possibly mean that!'

  'I'm—I'm sorry, Blake.' The inadequate words were said in little more than a whisper.

  'You're sorry! My God, is that all you can find to say? Why? Something must have happened to make you change your mind. Is it your father? I'll talk to him, tell him that…'

  'No! No, please. It's nothing to do with my father,' she said quickly.

  'Then for God's sake, why, Tansy?'

  She swallowed painfully and said in a trembling voice, 'Because I've realised that I can't leave Aparoa.' She held up a restraining hand when he tried to swiftly interrupt. 'I know I said I wou
ld, but after the earthquake, when all the poor injured people were brought in…' she broke off, then said earnestly, 'I know and understand them, Blake. They're my people and they're going to need me more than ever now.'

  'But your father—he can take care of them as well, if not better, than you,' he said urgently.

  'My father isn't a young man and there aren't many more years before he retires. I can't leave him to carry on alone.'

  He stared down at her, the moon outlining his hard profile. 'You told me you loved me.'

  Tansy's nails dug deep into the palms of her clenched fists. 'I know.'

  'One doesn't just fall out of love, Tansy.'

  'I know that too. That's why this is so hard to say. But I have to say it, Blake,' she added brokenly.

  His eyes darkened and there was a note of urgent entreaty in his voice as he said tensely, 'Don't do this to us, Tansy.'

  'I have to. I don't have any choice.'

  He went to reach out for her, but she moved away, afraid that her shallow resolution would dissolve if he touched her.

  'You do have a choice. The islanders managed without you and your father before; let someone else take over now.' There was a note of anger in his voice as he failed to make her change her mind.

  'They need me!'

  'And do you think that I don't? My God, Tansy, haven't I shown you just how much I need you?' he said savagely.

  Chokingly she shook her head. 'No, Blake, you've stood on your own two feet, been in charge of others, for too long ever to be completely dependent on another person for your happiness. And as for your physical needs —well, I'm sure you'll always be able to find plenty of women who'd be more than willing to satisfy those.'

  He glared at her, his eyes glittering with barely suppressed fury, his mouth set into a thin, hard line. 'I ought to knock your head off for saying that. The very fact that you can say it at all only proves that you have no conception of how much you mean to me!' And now she saw the look that came down over his face; bleak, bitter pride shutting down over anger.