Sweet Roots and Honey

by Gwen Westwood

  Ah, but she was to see him this very day. How would he look? What would he say? Would he be annoyed that she had failed him at the last? Or would he be more gentle than usual because she had been ill? But she did not want that. She preferred to be on an equal footing. She would explain that she would do her best to develop the photographs and print them in Johannesburg as soon as possible.

  Someone must have packed her clothes, for they were all here and she changed into the printed silk blouse, for there was no need to be practical any more. In a little while they would be back in Johannesburg. During the last few days her colour had come back and she was pleased with the reflection that greeted her in the small mirror of the convent guest room. Perry sat quite still looking out of the window, unable to concentrate on the book she had picked up, only able to wonder how she would feel when she saw Fabian again. And then she heard something, the swishing sound of Sister Celeste's robes as she came down the corridor, her gruff German voice, and the answering sound of a man's voice. There was a knock at the door.

  'Here she is, your invalid, but an invalid no longer, isn't it?'

  'Mark!' Perry tried to look pleased to see him as he came towards her, his hands outstretched. But something in her expression must have told him that she had not expected him.

  'Didn't Sister tell you I was coming to fetch you?' he asked, smiling. 'Aren't you pleased to be well enough to make the journey?'

  'Oh, yes, yes, very pleased. How lovely to see you, Mark.'

  She had recovered herself. He must never know how bitterly disappointed she felt that Fabian had not come. He put his arms around her and gave her a gentle kiss. Sister Celeste tactfully withdrew.

  'Nice of Fabian to send me, I thought. I was very glad I could come for you. He's really a very decent sort, you know. We had a long chat and he said perhaps he'd been wrong to separate us all those years ago. He said that he'd been impressed with your behaviour on the trip and that you would have made a good wife for anyone in our profession.'

  'Very good of him,' said Perry.

  She went to the window and through a haze of tears saw that the pelicans and flamingoes were wheeling over the calm water, above the still reflections of the scarlet lilies, but for her the scene had lost its beauty.

  'You seem a little upset. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have spoken of it so soon, but it seemed so lovely to see you again, Perry.'

  Mark's frank expression was clouded as if he sensed her distress.

  'Dear Mark, I'm glad to see you too.' She squeezed his hand. 'I'm still a bit touchy. Don't take any notice of me.'

  Sister Celeste came in with a tray of coffee and biscuits and their conversation turned to the journey in front of them. They were to fly straight to Johannesburg on a chartered plane. The expedition had been wound up and the rest of the party were already on their way home. Ken had recovered, but too late to rejoin them. In a few days' time Fabian would be flying to London to negotiate about the television rights. He had been in touch with Mike, Perry's partner, about developing the films in her absence. Mike had agreed to do this, so Perry need not worry about getting back to work before she was really fit again. It seemed, thought Perry, that she was not even to see Fabian again. She was not even necessary any more. Mike was quite capable of dealing with her films. He knew the camera even better than she did and from a professional point of view it hardly mattered whether he or she did the finishing work. They were both in accord about how it should be done.

  As the plane gained height, she said a mental farewell to the desert. Life had been hard there and she had often been wretched, but she would not forget it easily, this golden land with its fascinating creatures.

  'What's to happen to Topaz?' she asked.

  'He's being sent to Johannesburg Zoo for the time being. You'll be able to see him.'

  'I'm glad of that.'

  But she would not be able to see Fabian. Why did she feel so wretched? She must begin to forget. It had all been a foolish illusion like the mirage of a still deep pool seen in a thirsty land. She would get over it as she had got over Mark. She glanced at the man at her side. He was a good-looking man with his air of out of doors and his clear blue eyes arid deep tan, but it was incredible to remember him as the young boy on whom she had spent so much emotion years ago in another lifetime. So again she would resume her life in Johannesburg and forget this foolish passion that had arisen for Fabian in her innermost heart. But what was there left for her? She dreaded the return to a life that seemed empty now.

  Mark drove her to her flat and she was glad of his company, for she was afraid to be alone with her thoughts. He stopped at a delicatessen and bought some Italian food and a bottle of red wine. The flat had been cleaned, but it seemed unlived-in and airless. Perry turned on the air-conditioner and the coolness seemed odd and artificial.

  'I'd love to have a shower,' she said.

  'Well, go ahead. It's your home. I'll heat up the food and set the table. I think I can find the things.'

  She washed away the weariness of the journey, although she still felt very flat and depressed.

  'Fabian rang while you were in the shower,' Mark informed her. 'I told him you were well. I asked him if you were to phone back, but he said not to bother. I told him we were just about to eat.'

  Perry had a bitter pang of regret. The fact that Mark was there while she showered and that he was going to eat with her would have convinced Fabian of their renewed interest in each other. But what did it matter? For she knew Fabian did not care what she did. She tried to respond to Mark's kindness. What would she have done without him tonight? He was easier to talk to now that she knew him better and they enjoyed the companionable feeling of eating and the simple meal together, the lasagne, a palatable green pasta, layered with cheese sauce and savoury minced meat, the green salad accompanied by the glasses of red Chianti poured from its bottle encased in straw. Perry tried to push to the back of her mind the bitter regret that she had missed the opportunity of talking to Fabian on the phone. What could this conversation have been anyway if it were not very stilted or businesslike? He probably wanted to know about the arrangements for developing the films. Well, she would leave Mike to give him this information. She dared not risk meeting him again, feeling as she did.

  'I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you were saying,' she said to Mark. She had realized he had been talking to her.

  He looked a little hurt.

  'I said that now I've found you again, I'm not going to let you go so easily. I expect to be in Johannesburg for a little while before going off again and I'd be glad if I could see you again. Would you like that, Perry?'

  She hesitated. But why not? Mark was a dear person in spite of the fact that as far as she was concerned the magic spark that had been between them had now entirely disappeared. But she found she could not conceal a yawn.

  'I'm sorry, Mark, I really am dead on my feet. I feel I want to sleep for days. But do phone before you leave. I'd like to see you again.'

  He was on his feet. 'You must go to bed now. You're still far from strong. I'll ring you in the morning.' He pressed her hand as he left and kissed her gently. 'Lovely to be together again.' But she only nodded. She could not bring herself to speak.

  The doctor had told her she must rest, but she could not endure the loneliness of the flat. He suggested she should go to some mountain resort, but, although she dreaded meeting him, as long as she knew Fabian was in the same city, she could not bear to leave it. During the next few days Mark phoned her regularly and she responded with more alacrity than she would have done if she had not been feeling this bitter restlessness and dissatisfaction with her life. She insisted on going to the studio and helping Mike to develop the films. Faith, Mike's wife, had recovered from her illness and they had managed to save the baby, so he was on top of the world and exultant that he was about to become a father. Perry tried to respond to his vibrant happiness, but found it difficult.

  'I really don't think you should be doing an
y work,' Mike said to her one morning, remarking on her pallor. 'I'm afraid the desert trip was too much for you, in spite of the fact that you tell me you enjoyed it.'

  'I did enjoy it. It was wonderful,' she assured him.

  'And you didn't find Fabian such an ogre as you'd expected?'

  'No,' she said consideringly. 'I do admit, Mike, that he's a very dedicated and clever man.'

  'I knew you two would get on together once you'd met,' Mike said with satisfaction. 'Some of these photographs are terrific.'

  'I'm glad you like them.'

  Perry herself was very pleased with the results of her work.

  'Wait until Fabian sees them. Did I tell you he phoned me to say he would come in this afternoon?'

  'What a pity,' Perry said the first thing that came into her head. 'I won't be able to see him. I have a dressmaker's appointment.'

  She would make this lie half true, she thought later that afternoon, by going to do some shopping. She had promised to accompany Mark to a restaurant for dinner, because it was to be his last night here for a while. She would buy a new dress and see if that would act as a tonic.

  The owner of the boutique where she was known commented on her loss of weight.

  'You're even more slender than you were before,' she said. 'I have a beautiful dress in gold printed silk with a halter neck. It would suit your colouring perfectly.'

  'I don't know,' Perry hesitated. 'Isn't it a little daring?' The dress was beautiful but cut low at the back.

  'Not at all. Remember we have the long hot summer to get through. Think how fabulous it will be to wear at the Christmas and New Year parties beside someone's swimming pool or on the patio.'

  'I'll try it,' Perry decided.

  Her back looked honey-gold against the rich complimenting glow of the silk, and the style and beautiful cut enhanced her slender figure.

  'It's your dress. It's gorgeous,' said the saleslady.

  'I'll take it,' said Perry before she had time to hesitate.

  From there she went to the hairdresser's and spent a restful hour while a talkative Italian man evolved an elaborate coiffure of high-piled curls. She felt strange when she looked in the mirror, but it was all part of her plan to feel different and rid herself of the last memories of life in the wilds. She bought new make-up too, luminous honey-gold powder and an apricot-coloured stick to recompense her for her pallor.

  'Wow!' breathed Mark when he came to call for her that evening. 'I'm flattered, Perry. Is this all for me?' She blushed and shook her head, but he took her hand and pressed it to his lips. 'I hardly dare touch you, you look so beautiful. I'm glad I booked a table at the Carlton - I want everyone to see what a gorgeous girl I'm taking out tonight.'

  'I should have thought you would hate sophisticated city restaurants,' she commented.

  'Not a bit of it. When in Rome, you know. I have plenty of living in the Wilds on my own. Tonight you can show me the town.'

  Perhaps she had made a mistake to make the effort to look glamorous. She foolishly had not realized that it would give Mark the impression that she had done it for him. She had felt so tired of her old self that she had wanted to prove something, to know that she could look beautiful, and well and vibrant again. But it had made Mark more amorous than he had been before. She began to dread the evening, and then shrugged off this feeling and decided she would enjoy herself and give Mark an evening to remember when he was back in the wilds.

  When they arrived at the beautiful restaurant, it was crowded and the noise of the band and the chatter of the cosmopolitan crowd quite startled her, so far was it removed from the life she had grown used to during the last few weeks, but they were led to a small table in a comparatively quiet corner, far removed from the band, and the wine waiter took Mark's order for champagne cocktails while they studied the vast menu. The maitre d'hotel informed them that he had some fresh guinea-fowl and was rather startled when they laughed. 'I'm so sorry,' Perry apologized. 'We've just come from a place where we had to exist on guinea-fowl and other wild game.'

  'Ah, now I understand. Then may I suggest fresh langoustines flown today from the coast, followed by river trout from the mountains cooked in wine and cream.'

  'That sounds wonderful,' they agreed. And Mark ordered a bottle of Blue Nun, a Rhine wine that was delicately flavoured to match that of the langoustine and trout.

  'Would you like to dance while we're waiting?' asked Mark.

  'Why not?' smiled Perry. She felt in a strange mood, gay and reckless as if she had indeed cast aside that self that had given her pain during her sojourn in the desert.

  Mark smiled at her as he led her on to the small dance floor.

  'It's a long time since we danced together,' he said, and swept her into his arms. This was the way to forgetfulness, she assured herself, to learn to enjoy herself just for the moment as she followed the romantic beat of the music.

  'Look who's here!'

  A familiar voice pierced the dream world that Perry had conjured up in her mind, a world where only light and gaiety existed. Mark held her in his supporting grasp as Samantha swayed towards them, dancing with Fabian. Samantha glittered in clinging silver and the emeralds at her throat matched her eyes. She looked older, more sophisticated than the young girl who had drifted around the camp playing her guitar. And Fabian. Perry forced herself to look at him. Why, oh, why did one glimpse of his dark proud head, the aquiline features, the piercing grey eyes and flashing smile, make nonsense of all her resolution to forget him?

  'Perry and Mark too! Good to see you're enjoying yourselves together again,' he smiled at both of them, impartially. 'If you would care to, join us at our table for coffee after you've dined. Paul is there and would be delighted to see you both.'

  He had hardly glanced in Perry's direction. The dinner that followed was delicious, but Perry felt she might as well be eating sawdust. She laughed and joked gaily with Mark, but all the time inside her she felt a bitter hurt.

  'What do you say ... shall we join them? I really don't want to give you up to other people tonight,' said Mark, pressing her hand. 'But I suppose we should, just for a little while.'

  They made their way over to the other table. The three men all in dark dinner jackets looked astonishingly handsome in their various ways. Paul was very distinguished with his silver hair and worldly expression, and it was hard for Perry to think that she had last seen Fabian in shorts and safari jacket, for in his well-cut suit he looked like a city-dweller who had just come back from some holiday to account for his splendid tan. Coffee was served with delicious petits fours and fruits encased in a brittle caramel coating. Samantha was talking to Mark and presently they rose to go on to the dance floor. Someone called Fabian over to an adjacent table and Perry found herself left with Paul.

  'You're looking very lovely tonight, Perry. Mark is a fortunate man.'

  She shook her head, laughing, but obviously he did not take her denial seriously.

  'So the ice maiden has unfrozen, or did Mark always possess your heart? I'm inclined to think so. Tonight you look so warm and glowing, absolutely beautiful.'

  'Thank you, Paul, but really you only saw me at my worst, didn't you?'

  'I wouldn't say that. You often looked quite beautiful in the desert. But it was only after that time when you'd gone with Fabian to fetch Mark that you became really transformed. How foolish of me to think that Fabian had anything to do with it.'

  Perry thought it was just as well he believed this. He seemed normally so astute, but in this case he was on the wrong track altogether.

  'We're travelling to London tomorrow,' Paul went on. 'We had hoped that Fabian would come with us, but he says he still has ends to tie up here. I'm afraid Samantha has come to the conclusion that he'll remain a loner for life. But she's not heartbroken. Certainly a more worldly kind of husband would suit her, though it wouldn't surprise me if she continues to work on Fabian when he's in London.'

  'When does he expect to go?' asked Perry.r />
  'Some time during the next few days. He was saying your pictures are quite marvellous. Apparently he saw them this afternoon, didn't he?'

  'I believe so. Mike showed them to him. I wasn't there.'

  Too bad you missed the praise.'

  'She hasn't missed it. It's just been a little delayed.'

  Fabian stood behind her chair. He leaned down towards her and the sparkling grey eyes were very close to hers.

  'You never danced when we were in the desert. But perhaps I can persuade you now.'

  Before she could make any decision for herself, he had drawn her to her feet and led her on to the dance floor.

  Perry had seen that he was proficient when he and Samantha danced during the expedition, but this was entirely different, much more intimate than an exhibition of skill. The small floor was crowded but dark, everyone absorbed in their own partner, and, as she was held close in his embrace, she and Fabian seemed to be in a shadowy world of their own. He was silent and she was aware that the defences she had built against emotion had crumbled at his touch. She had been pretending all evening that she did not care about him, that she could be content with a superficial world m which beautiful dresses and coiffures were the most important thing in life, a world of artificial gaiety, but when she felt his arms around her, when she looked up at him and saw the strange enigmatic expression of his grey eyes, she was appalled and yet thrilled by the passionate desire she felt to be with him always, to be part of his life for ever. But this was impossible. Why had they met this evening? It would have been better if it had not happened.

  'You look very different from the small sick kitten I delivered to Sister Celeste,' he said, smiling. 'You're a radiant golden girl tonight. I was evidently well advised to send Mark to fetch you. His company has restored you, I can see that.'

  Odd, thought Perry, how one can present a radiant appearance to the world while feeling that the heart is slowly dying inside one's breast. She tried to smile at him.

  'I'm quite well again. I'm sorry I let you down at the end.'