by Liz Tolsma
“Nothing for you to worry about. Business and things you wouldn’t understand.”
Irene bristled, biting back the hurt at the insult. “Whatever it is, Rand is very concerned and preoccupied.”
Mr. Covey nodded. “I should think he would be. The matter is very distressing to him.”
“And I would like to be able to help him, but I can’t if I don’t know what is troubling him. I’m sure he doesn’t want to burden me with his affairs, but he has been good to me, and I would like to return the favor.”
“You choose your words well, Miss Reynolds.” Mr. Covey coughed, and it sounded to Irene like he was covering up a laugh. “I don’t want to discuss private matters with you behind Mr. Sterling’s back. That wouldn’t be ethical.”
They returned to the line.
“Miss Wainwright, what a pleasure to see you again.” Mr. Covey kissed the back of Tessa’s hand, and she giggled. Irene slapped a mosquito and scratched her arm.
“Your mustache tickles. Have you told Miss Reynolds what’s bothering Mr. Sterling?”
Again, Irene stepped on Tessa’s foot. The girl had no filter on her mouth. Irene would be sure never to share a secret with her.
“As I told her, she needs to speak with Mr. Sterling about it herself. I would never betray a friend’s confidence. But I do believe she would be very interested in what he has to say.”
One way or another, Irene would discover Rand’s secret.
Rand strolled from his shanty in Glamourville toward the Education Building where he had left his razor. These days he only shaved occasionally. What was the point? It took too much energy. He decided that though the dance was still five days away, he should start shaving regularly to be rid of any razor burn before the big day.
He whistled a little tune as he wound his way through the huts and out to the road that ran in front of the Main and Education Buildings. The commandant had his headquarters between the two.
He hoped Irene would drop her questioning about Mr. Covey. If she went snooping, Rand would lose her for sure. He had to protect his secret. She couldn’t find out. The world couldn’t find out. His social standing, his position in the community, his clubs—they were all at stake.
And he wasn’t willing to let any of those slip through his fingers.
As he approached his dorm, he noticed a commotion near the commandant’s headquarters. There was shouting and screaming. Little children screaming.
He turned left and hustled to see what was going on. Children were gathered in a cluster, a soldier shouting at them. Other guards made their way to the trouble spot.
What did the Japanese intend to do to these kids?
Blood pounded in his ears by the time he reached the gathering crowd. “What is going on?”
“Who are the parents of these children?” The soldier spoke perfect English.
Rand sucked in his breath when he recognized the pockmarked face. A flick of his eye confirmed the soldier’s missing fingertip.
His insides froze despite the sweat pouring from his face.
And they turned even colder when he spotted Sheila King’s black head in the group of half a dozen or so children herded together by two other guards.
“What have they been doing? Why are you holding them?”
“They have stolen food from the commandant’s garbage bin. You have been warned that this was to stop, yet we find these young ones here. Who are the parents? You do not want to see your children hurt.” The man spoke in detached tones, void of any emotion save anger.
A couple of the adults who had gathered stepped forward. A few other of the adults jogged off, either in an attempt to escape possible punishment or to find the offenders’ fathers and mothers.
Then Sheila began to cry, huge tears running down her peaked little face. “But I don’t have a mommy or a daddy.” Even from the distance of several feet, Rand witnessed her tiny body trembling.
Fear radiated from her. He couldn’t leave her alone.
The word punishment zipped through his mind as fast as an electric current. And just that fast, it disappeared. “I’m responsible for her.”
The crowd gasped.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mr. Sterling.” Sheila broke from the guard and raced to hug Rand’s leg. Her tears soaked his shorts. “Thank you for rescuing me. I was so scared when that soldier started to yell at us. And then I don’t have a mommy or daddy to take care of me.”
He bent down and stroked her dark, silky hair, aware of the gaze of the crowd—and the guard—on him. “I couldn’t leave you all alone. Were you stealing food?”
Her trembling resumed. “I’m so hungry.” The words came out in the barest of whispers.
He dropped to his knees. Those rotten Japanese, starving little kids. Kids who just wanted to survive and who had been reduced to foraging for scraps from the garbage to do so. “Don’t you worry. From now on, I’ll make sure you have plenty. If you’re hungry, you come to me.”
She nodded and placed a kiss on his cheek. The many kisses he had received from fawning admirers paled in comparison. Never had one been so sweet.
He stood and grasped her hand, planning to return her to the Annex where she lived before heading to his quarters.
“Stop.”
He obeyed the guard’s order. The soldier stepped in front of him, his face mere inches from his. The smell of sake was strong on the man’s breath. “The child may go. You, however, as the responsible party, will be punished, as promised by the commandant.”
He released his grip on Sheila. “Go home now.”
She nodded, and after he gave her a small push, she raced away.
Rand felt the gazes of those gathered.
The soldier sneered. “You have been warned.”
Rand did vaguely remember the announcement made over the loudspeaker. Not having children, he didn’t pay any attention to it.
He grabbed Rand by the upper arm with no effort at gentleness. “The commandant will have the final say as to your sentence.”
Now even his sweat turned cold. He rubbed the knuckles of his right hand. He tried to block out the memory of anguished screams.
Was he to return to Fort Santiago?
The guard led him the short distance to the commandant’s office. The soldier bowed before the stocky Japanese man in control of the camp. His dark eyes were narrow and his mouth drawn into a hard line. He spoke in Japanese, the tone of his words harsh.
Rand’s captor answered him in the same tongue.
What could they be discussing? His execution?
The exchange went on for a minute or so. To Rand, it was a lifetime. He locked his knees to keep them from shaking. What trouble had his impetuous words brought him?
Then he thought of Sheila’s tears and how she had clung to him.
No matter what happened to him, he would do it again. Just to protect her.
The commandant stood and leaned over the desk, his nubby fingers splayed on top of it. “Three days in camp jail. Next time, not so nice.” With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Rand.
It was all he could do to stay erect, his relief was so great.
The soldier led him away to the building that housed prisoners on-site. The internee committee used it to hold their fellow detainees accused of such crimes as theft. Compared to Fort Santiago, it was a palace. No putrid odors. No bloodcurdling screams. No torture chambers.
For Sheila, it was all worth it.
Then his world went black.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Irene stared out of the hospital window as the nurse recorded Anita’s vital signs. Below the window, the internees went about their jobs. The children continued their schooling, though adult classes had ceased as people were too tired after work to try to think. Instead, basic survival held more importance as women tended the gardens and men hauled water to the shanties.
Thank the Lord, her aunt was stable. She hadn’t lost any more weight. But neither had she gai
ned any. She remained weak and frail. For the time being, the doctor allowed her to remain here, and Irene was grateful. This way she didn’t have to worry about Anita not bowing to the guards.
But if there was an epidemic, Anita’s bed would be required, and they would be back to the same problem as before.
Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Irene remembered the verse Anita quoted to her often. The words of Matthew were true enough.
The nurse finished her work with Anita and moved on to another patient. Her aunt sat up in bed and rearranged her covers to hide her bony legs. “Tell me about this dance tonight. What will you wear?”
“Tessa is lending me the prettiest green dress you ever saw. It’s the color of the leaves in the canopy after a rain, sleeveless, with a sheer lace overlay and belted at the waist. She made it herself.
“I know you don’t approve, but I’m looking forward to the dancing. Tessa has been helping me because Rand is an expert dancer. I promise to leave plenty of daylight between us.”
“I hear the excitement in your voice and the tenderness when you speak of him. I’m concerned.”
“Concerned? Why?”
“You’re growing attached to this young man.”
“He’s a good man, Anita. Look at what he did for Sheila.” Irene couldn’t believe Rand stood up for Sheila knowing the Japanese guards had threatened punishment. “He’s not the same person who zipped around Manila in that red convertible.”
Anita nodded. “That was an amazing act of self-sacrifice. But does he know about your father?”
Irene wiped her damp hands on her skirt. “No. And I don’t want him to find out. I’m not attached to him. When the war is over, we will go back to our old lives. He moves in a different sphere than me. This is a friendship. Nothing more.”
Even as she said the words, Irene knew she lied.
By the look Anita flashed her, brows furrowed, she knew it too. “Let me ask you the most important thing. Is he a believer? Does he know and love the Lord and seek to follow Him?”
Irene twirled a curl around her finger and let it spring back. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I’m not sure.”
“Then, as far as I am concerned, he isn’t a Christian. When a man follows Christ, he doesn’t hide his faith under a bushel.”
“Don’t worry. Like I said before, this is nothing more than a friendship. He has a good heart.”
“A good heart does not a believer make.”
“After the war, he will find a wife, and Lord willing, I will find a husband.”
“But the war hasn’t ended yet. Be careful, before you discover yourself entangled with him too much to get free. You know I was married for a brief time.”
“Yes.” Irene learned never to ask Anita questions about that time in her life before she lost her sight.
“I had been brought up in a Christian home and had given my heart to God at an early age. My parents never had a moment’s trouble with me. Walter, your father, was a different story. Oh my, he was a handful from the time he could crawl.
“And then Nigel walked through the doors of the office where I was working at the time and into my life. He was the most dashing, handsome man I had ever seen.” Anita’s voice took on a dreamy quality. “He was sophisticated and taught me more about the world than I ever cared to know.”
Irene had a difficult time picturing her straitlaced aunt doing anything even close to bad.
“All appeared to be well on the outside during our courtship. He said the right words and did the right things. He was polite to my parents and kind to my brother. He didn’t attend church with me but did pray before meals. My parents warned me, but I refused to be dissuaded. We eloped.”
Irene sucked in her breath. “Eloped?”
With a twinkle in her eyes, Anita laughed. “It was quite the scandal. Walter applauded me when he found out. We were happy for the first few months. Then Nigel insisted that I stop attending church and go to brunch with him on Sunday mornings instead. I was insulting his mother by refusing her repeated invitations.”
Those eyes, so merry a moment ago, now shone with tears. “I was miserable. I tried to read my Bible in my room by myself, but it wasn’t the same. Nigel and I didn’t agree on important issues, and it tore a rift in my marriage and in my walk with the Lord.”
Anita wiped her eyes. “When he died three years later, it was a relief. But it took me a long time to repair my relationship with God. Please don’t make the same mistake I did.”
“I won’t, Anita. I promise.”
But her heart told her she might already be caught in Rand’s web.
Tessa and Irene vied for the one handheld mirror they owned between them. Tessa pinned one piece of rolled hair on top of her head next to another. “My sister who made it to the United States wrote to me that this is all the fashion. They even call it a victory roll to be patriotic.”
Irene struggled to pin back her curls.
Tessa handed Irene the mirror. “Let me help you, love. I can’t believe you never rolled your hair before.”
“Not in the jungle.” Irene fingered the lacy green fabric of the dress Tessa had lent her and taken in. She had never worn anything so beautiful.
Tessa spent the next fifteen minutes removing the large curlers from Irene’s hair and pinning the sausage rolls to the top of her head. She left soft curls at the bottom. “I wish I had your platinum-blond hair. I’ve spent my life dreaming of being a blonde or a brunette—anything but a redhead. Well, now for a little lipstick. I’ve been saving it for just such an occasion.”
Irene cringed at the bright-red color. “Rand gave me lipstick for Christmas, and it’s a softer color that I prefer.”
Tessa laughed, pink highlighting her thin cheeks. “Don’t be silly. With your fair hair, this is the color you want. Trust me. You will look fabulous. Bangers and mash, if only we hadn’t left all of our jewelry in that safety-deposit box in Hong Kong.” She sighed. “Oh well, we look as good as we can.”
Irene pulled out the tube Rand had given her. “I’m fashionable enough. I’m going to wear this color.” And she applied the coral lipstick. She stood and peeked at herself in the mirror, then sucked in her breath, not recognizing the woman staring back. “If marrying a rich man doesn’t work out for you, Tessa, you could always fall back on being a hairstylist or a Hollywood makeup artist.”
“You are a beautiful woman, Irene. I’m glad you’re realizing it at last.”
“What will Rand say when he sees me?”
“He will marvel at the gorgeous creature you have become. And don’t tell me you don’t like him even just a little bit.”
Irene turned and admired Tessa in her stunning robin’s-egg blue dress that hugged her body as the silk fabric flowed to the floor. “Bruce’s eyes are going to pop right out of his head when he gets his first glimpse of you. You’re gorgeous. I just can’t believe you agreed to go to the dance with Rand’s friend.”
“And why not? It’s a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a fortune must be in want of a wife.”
Irene laughed. “He’s so much older than you.”
“But he has what you Americans call rugged good looks. Besides, Rand is almost ten years older than you.”
A rap on the door interrupted them. Rand and Bruce Tarpin stood waiting for them. Rand had a white lily in his hand. “Irene, Irene, prettiest girl I ever have seen.”
Tessa hadn’t needed to fret over not having rouge. Irene was sure her cheeks were plenty pink. “You haven’t rhymed in a while.”
“There hasn’t been much to rhyme about. But it’s true. I have never seen a lovelier woman in my life.”
He looked handsome enough himself in his long pants and starched shirt, a dark-red necktie around his throat. The way the clothing hung on his frame told the truth of his weight loss. Even his stocky friend had thinned considerably.
Rand
had slicked back his light-brown hair and had managed to tame most of the waves. He rubbed his square chin. A chill of delight rushed over her.
Irene pulled on the elbow-length gloves Tessa had lent her. “That is not the truth. I’ve heard tales of you with a gorgeous woman on each arm.”
“They pale in comparison to you.” He tucked the flower behind her right ear, an electric-like jolt racing to her toes at his touch.
Bruce guffawed. “Keep in mind that he’s a notorious flirt. And all of the stories you’ve heard about him are true.”
Didn’t Bruce like her very much, or was he teasing?
He kissed Tessa’s hand, sending her into a spasm of giggles. “Miss Wainwright, thank you for doing me the honor. Wainwright as in Wainwright Jewelers, serving all of the finest families of the Far East, correct?”
Irene tuned out Rand’s friend and turned her attention back to him. A bluish-greenish spot on his temple was the only mark of the ordeal he’d suffered earlier in the week. She touched it, careful not to hurt him. “Do you feel well enough to dance tonight?”
“A thousand Japanese soldiers wouldn’t keep me from this. I would have been here even if I had to escape.” He winked.
She shivered.
Tessa laughed and patted Irene’s hair. “Enough of that lovey-dovey talk. Are we ready?”
Rand offered Irene his elbow, and she slipped her hand around his arm. “I’ve never been to a dance before, so I’m not sure I’ll be very good. I hope I don’t embarrass you too much.”
He turned and looked at her. “You have never danced?”
“My aunt frowned on it. Tessa has been helping me learn.”
“Never danced before?” Bruce shook his head. “I don’t know of anyone who has never danced.”
“Don’t pay any attention to my supposed friend. He’s jealous of me. Just follow my lead, and you’ll be swell.”
Couples milled around the yard in front of the Main Building. Lights had been strung around the dance floor, and on the stage, a group of musicians with violins, trumpets, trombones, and clarinets tuned their instruments.