Written in the Stars

by Xavier, Dilys

  The receptionist confirmed their booking and handed them separate keys. Suzi had insisted on this arrangement, because she felt unable to commit herself for some reason, and saying she wanted separate rooms made it quite clear.

  ‘Enjoy your visit,’ she said, echoing the taxi driver’s words, and giving them a warm smile as they signed the register.

  Their rooms were on opposite sides of the hotel. Suzi’s spacious apartment looked out over the bay, while Mark’s faced the swimming pool and courtyard. After she had unpacked her bag, she wandered downstairs to find him waiting in the bar. They whiled away the evening in the lounge talking to a number of guests who were leaving the next day, and Mark finally escorted her upstairs. Outside her bedroom door, ‘Pleasant dreams, Suzi,’ he whispered, lightly kissing her goodnight.

  The next morning, they wandered over to the fishing village and poked around the harbour before having a meal in one of the fish taverns. The following day they strolled around the small, traditional agricultural town of Polis, and bought some souvenirs to take back to their staff. When they returned to the hotel, Suzi spent the afternoon having a sauna, massage and facial. The hotel receptionist tried hard to sell them a cruise trip on the boat Atalante, but neither felt enthusiastic about the idea so they declined.

  ‘We could pop up to Nicosia for a couple of days, if you like,’ Mark suggested. ‘How do you feel about that?’

  ‘No, I like it here. It’s peaceful in these tiny villages, and it’d be a pity to break the mood and go to a bustling city even for a day. They confined their activities to the local attractions most of the time, and Suzi was content just to laze by the pool, and enjoy the peaceful surroundings. It was all a stark contrast to the way she had spent the past eighteen months—finding and setting up the restaurant, and working virtually day and night to make it a success.

  Their final evening there arrived. ‘Let’s dine at that little fish tavern by the harbour.’

  ‘Yes, let’s. Our first meal there was delicious.’ It was a beautiful evening, and they walked hand in hand along the beach, listening to the gentle slap of the waves on the sand. It seemed idyllic. It was as they stood looking out to sea, that Mark suddenly cradled her in his arms and sighed contentedly.

  ‘I’m glad we came here,’ he said, softly ‘I feel it’s done us the world of good.’ He brushed his lips against her hair, and gently cupped her breast. ‘I think it’s brought us closer together, too,’ he added.

  Unwilling he had become intimate, Suzi stiffened, and turned sideways to ease his hand off her breast, and then moved away in case he tried to take his fondling farther.

  ‘It’s time we were getting back,’ she murmured, ‘I’ve still got to pack and I don’t want to be too late going to bed.’

  The next morning they caught a taxi back to Paphos for the trip back home. Their plane descended through a layer of heavy, grey clouds and taxied up to the terminal in the pouring rain. The downpour eased long enough for them to get into Mark’s BMW, but then it continued until they crossed the bridge between England and Wales.

  ‘I’ll get the bags in while you brew us a nice pot of tea, Suzi.’ In a short time, they were seated comfortably and enjoying the drink, both obviously trying to avoid talking about The Stow Restaurant. But it was a dismal failure. It was time to get back to work. Suzi brewed another pot of tea, while Mark phoned a few suppliers to remind them that the restaurant would reopen in two days.

  After spending so much time in Mark’s company, Suzi felt quite relieved when he finally left, leaving her free to please herself about what she did and when. She lifted the phone and rang Charlize, chatting happily for an hour before she hung up. More relaxed now, she flopped onto the squashy sofa in front of the fire and stared into the flames as if expecting to find an answer to the barrage of questions that tumbled around in her mind. What should she do about Mark? Charlize had just made it clear that she agreed with Suzi’s decision not to become too involved with him, and that was a gentle reminder of her own original concerns about Mark. Caution was needed where he was concerned.

  However, his unobtrusive approach had almost undermined her determination to keep him at arm’s length. She had been disturbed at his attempt to caress her on the beach, but he had not taken exception to her gentle rebuff. It was then that memories of Steve flooded her mind, and how ready she was to accept his caresses. She continued to stare absentmindedly into the fire, remembering their lovemaking and the depth of feeling he had generated in her. Once again she was tempted to contact him, but common sense prevailed and she decided to leave things as they were.

  Sorting through the mail, Suzi found a letter from Mr Duncan. She opened it eagerly and scanned it quickly the first time. It informed her that both she and the other claimant, a Mr Steven William Pardoe, of New Zealand, had equal rights to the Caxton Manor estate. Suzi’s jaw dropped in sheer disbelief as she read the words. Steven Pardoe. Steve?

  ‘But, he didn’t say…’ Her strangled words stuck in her throat. She could feel her face flush at the news. When he arrived in the country, had Steve Pardoe already been aware that she had filed a claim to Bartholomew Armitage’s estate? If so, why hadn’t he said something when they first met? Had he deliberately kept quiet about it?

  She recalled his account of how he had noticed the wrought iron gates of the manor were ajar, and saw the securing chains lying on the ground, which made him decide to investigate. However, he had not mentioned he was there because he had a vested interest in the place.

  A wave of resentment swept over her, only to be replaced by a feeling of remorse. Fully aware she had said nothing of her interest either, she realised it was tit for tat. She hadn’t been frank about her visit to the old house, either. Then she recalled the solicitor’s off-hand rejoinder about another claimant. Maybe he hadn’t informed Steve that there was anyone else involved at that time. Even if he had, the solicitor would have kept them both ignorant of each other’s identity.

  ‘Oh, Steve,’ she murmured, staring blankly at the letter on the floor. ‘If I’d only known.’ But ‘If only’ seemed out of place now as conflicting thoughts continued to run through her mind. She had to decide what to do about the situation. It would be stupid to declare her love for him, and rather silly to ask him to come back and live with her in the house. She raised her brows at the boldness of her thoughts. What was she thinking ?

  Still, even though he had made it clear he wasn’t married, he had intimated he was committed to someone in New Zealand. ‘He must love her, or he wouldn’t have left me and gone back to her,’ she murmured, tearfully. ‘He must have realised he had a choice, so that’s that.’ Her mind flew back. At no time did he declare his love for her, and she had not used the word love either. She recalled what he really had said: ‘You’ve touched something deep inside me, Suzi Lysle Spencer.’ Those words were still ringing in her head. It had been a lovely way to express what he felt, but it was ambiguous, and that was it, beginning and end. Oddly enough, that was exactly how she felt as well.

  She picked up the letter and continued to read the rest of the contents.

  When you were informed that there was another claimant , you intimated that you might be prepared to buy that other person’s share . Do you wish me to convey that offer to Mr Pardoe ? Should he agree to your proposal , it will be necessary to have the property evaluated to fix a price .

  There was a bit about his intention to make sure it was settled amicably, and so on, but it was just so much claptrap as far as she was concerned.

  ‘Stupid, that’s what I was to say such a thing. I don’t have enough money to even buy the front door, let alone a whole half of the house. Real stupid,’ she muttered as she sat down and carefully considered the situation. Could there be a way to do it ? Of course he might not want to sell . What then ? She bit her lip; she didn’t want to lose the house she loved, but she couldn’t see any way to afford to hang on to it either. It was an impasse.

  Suddenly, Suzi jerk
ed into life as an idea popped into her head. Maybe he would allow her to develop it into a business. Surely they could work out something between them; a lease, a share in the profits, or whatever? But even as the thought took root in her mind, she dismissed it, for that would mean taking out a bigger mortgage to pay for alterations, and she couldn’t expect Steve to agree to that. After all why should he jeopardize his share of the property?

  As another tear rolled slowly down her cheek, she sat feeling forlorn and dejected. She did not want to see the lovely old house sold off to a complete stranger. Surely she could do something? She thought, racking her brains. At least, maybe she could talk to Steve about the situation. She reached for the phone and then gave a bitter little laugh as she gave herself some sound advice. ‘I don’t think that’s a real good idea either.’

  Unwilling to dwell on the upsetting letter she turned on the television and began surfing the programs. A documentary on New Zealand caught her attention and she watched the whole program. When it finished, Suzi ran a hot bath and then made her way to bed. She would phone Duncan first thing in the morning, and find out what could be done about the situation.

  Her dreams were full of conflicting scenes in which Steve played a pivotal role. First of all he would gather her into his arms, declare his undying love, and then carry her up the sweeping staircase of Caxton Manor to consummate their love in the antique four-poster bed. In the next dream he would stand at the front door, brandishing a gnarled walking stick and warning her never to set foot in the house again. She woke up during the night in a sweat and feeling quite exhausted.

  *

  When Kirsty finally returned home late Sunday afternoon, she was carrying her pretty sandals, with a heel missing on one of them. Her hair was piled up and tied with string, and her garish red blouse had been replaced by a tee shirt with a rather obscene picture on the back. On top of that, she looked as if she hadn’t slept the whole weekend.

  Steve was about to remonstrate with her when Norah intervened

  ‘I’ll see to her.’ She pushed him away gently. ‘You take Vince down the club for a drink.’ By the time they had returned, Kirsty was fast asleep in her bedroom.

  ‘Just leave things be,’ Norah counselled Steve, as they sat around after dinner. ‘I’ll have a talk with her tomorrow.’

  ‘I was hoping that she wouldn’t take up with that crowd again.’ Vince’s voice was tinged with sadness. ‘She promised me faithfully, but I suppose it was only because I managed to keep her name out of things.’ He sighed deeply. ‘At least they didn’t implicate her in the crime, otherwise she’d have been put away too.’

  ‘Why didn’t you stop her associating with them?’ Steve looked directly at his father. ‘Surely you must have known what she was doing.’

  Vince sighed deeply again and shook his head. ‘Easier said than done. Maybe if you’d been home at the time it would have been different. You might have been able to keep an eye on her… who knows?’

  ‘We didn’t take too much notice of it at first,’ Norah continued, when Vince paused. ‘We thought she’d get it out of her system as she grew older. The trouble is we don’t understand how she thinks.’ She stopped and spread her hands out wide. ‘She’s a Maori, and their culture is poles apart from ours.’

  ‘But you knew that when you adopted her.’

  ‘Yes, but we thought that if she was raised with a white family she would adapt to our lifestyle.’ When Norah began to weep softly Vince took up the narrative.

  ‘We reasoned that if she didn’t associate with them she wouldn’t be influenced by their way of life.’ He shook his head. ‘We were wrong.’

  ‘Do you still want me to marry her?’ Steve looked from one to the other, his face drawn tight. ‘Is that the answer, or is it just a long shot that it might slow her down for a while?’ He turned to his father. ‘She knew your situation, and how her actions could have jeopardized the business, but it didn’t seem to make a scrap of difference, did it?’

  ‘No, I guess not,’ Vince replied, sadly. ‘It would appear that she didn’t give it a second thought.’ Another sigh, ‘And probably still doesn’t.’

  ‘So she wouldn’t feel obliged to change her ways because we were married?’

  ‘I don’t know, Steve, but she seemed to settle down after you agreed to marry her.’ Vince looked at this wife. ‘Norah will tell you… we think it made a world of difference.’

  ‘Yes, but at that time all her troublesome friends were banged up in jail, weren’t they?’ Steve slammed his fist on the table to emphasis his words. ‘She had no contact with them and so I filled the gap in her life. But now they’re back, what next eh?’ He shook his head slowly. ‘I’ll do what I can to help, but I… ‘

  ‘But what?’

  ‘But, I have no intention of cleaning her up every time she comes home from one of their booze-ups.’ Steve glared at his father. ‘And I don’t like the idea of you having to bail her out of trouble again, because that’s what’s going to happen again, and again, unless this is nipped in the bud. The next time, it could be something far more serious. And what then?’

  ‘Maybe Hepora and Iritana have learned their lesson. Kirsty was really upset when they were sent to prison.’ Norah sighed. ‘Apparently everyone thought they’d get a caution or some community work, or whatever.’ For another hour, they continued to discuss the best way to handle the situation. Then Vince suggested that they sleep on it and talk about it again the next day, but as they stood up, Steve spoke again.

  ‘There’s another aspect to it that has to be considered. If she continues to spend time with those people, she’s going to start sleeping around again. I don’t care what she did in the past, but it’s different now. If she picks up with one of those guys who’s been messing around while he’s been in the nick, then she’s leaving herself wide open to all sorts of infection. To put it bluntly, I’m definitely not going to put myself at risk by sleeping with her. I’m clean, and I want to stay clean.’

  Another tear slid silently down Norah’s cheek. ‘She fitted in so well when we brought her home,’ she said, quietly. ‘We thought she would turn out like you, Steve, and we’ve been so proud of you.’

  Steve thought of her words as he climbed into bed, and spent hours staring at the ceiling as he tried to think of what to do. Finally, exhausted by his conflicting thoughts, he turned over and fell asleep.

  Chapter Eight

  Kirsty stared at Norah as if she was trying to understand what her foster mother was saying. She seemed unable to concentrate. It was quite obvious that her mind was still blurred with the alcohol and drugs she had consumed over the weekend. Then the haze lifted enough for her to listen to Norah’s voice which now held a note of exasperation.

  ‘You know we love you, Kirsty,’ Norah said. ‘We don’t want to see you destroy your chance of happiness.’

  ‘What do you mean… destroy my chance of happiness?’ Kirsty peered at Norah through bloodshot, narrowed eyes. ‘I’m happy with my life. I’m not destroying anything.’

  Norah gazed at her in amazement. Couldn’t Kirsty see how she was abusing her body? Didn’t she understand that what she was doing was totally unacceptable in a normal society? How did she expect to keep out of trouble if she continued to associate with people who have no regard for the outcome of their illegal actions?

  ‘But, Kirsty… ‘

  ‘Don’t ‘but Kirsty’ me,’ she said, pulling her hand free. ‘You don’t understand, do you? Not one of you understands me, and you never will.’

  ‘We’ve done everything we could for you. We’ve treated you like our very own daughter, and Steve has been just as loving. You can’t point an accusing finger at anyone in this house.’

  Kirsty stood up and paced over to the window to look out on the broad expanse of sea visible over the rooftops of the neighbouring houses.

  ‘You’re right,’ she admitted. ‘You’ve given me the best of everything, and I know you’ve tried to make me feel
part of your life. When I was younger I never questioned my place in the family, but all that changed as I began to discover my true identity. Now I feel trapped.’

  Kirsty was well aware that, initially, she had been proud to be part of a white family, but as she mingled with Maori children, she realised she had a preference for their friendship. Their concept of living for today appealed to her and she was happiest when she was in their company. It was as if that side of her nature was stronger than the European part.

  Then she thought of Steve. She did love him, although it was a different type of love than she had for Joey Ruawhane. Steve embodied all the good aspects of her foster parents, and had provided the much needed physical love she required, but she didn’t have the same depth of feeling for him as she did for her Joey. She had agreed to marry Steve because it seemed to be the only way she could have the love and support she needed, but she knew in her heart he was her second best. Joey was her first and only true love, and always would be. But she knew he would never be accepted by this family.

  Norah walked up behind her and slipped an arm around her shoulder.

  ‘What do you want to do Kirsty? What does your heart tell you to do?’

  Kirsty shrugged in an effort to appear nonchalant, and then she turned to face her foster mother. She gazed into the older woman’s face with its genuine expression of love in her eyes. ‘I feel so totally lost and desolate; it’s like a blanket of doom sweeping over me.’ She buried her head on Norah’s breast and began to sob.

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t want to upset you and Pap, or Steve, but I feel as if I’m being torn down the middle. One half of me wants to fit into your lifestyle and the other…’

  ‘We thought that in time you’d come to terms with that,’ Norah said, stroking her hair. ‘You seemed to settle down after…’ She paused and then continued, ‘after what happened to Iritana and Hepora. You know that if it hadn’t been for Vince, you’d have probably gone to jail as well.’