THE WHISPERING GROVE
by
MARGERY HILTON
Cheated of her career as a ballet dancer, Toni made a loveless marriage with Justin Valmont in the hope that in caring for his motherless small daughter she would find a new purpose in living.
But she did not foresee the effect on her heart of Justin's devastating charm --or the return of his old love, the beautiful Lucy Sandanna...
CHAPTER ONE
Toni’s eyes scanned the same paragraph for the third time without
comprehending its meaning and impatiently she let the glossy pages swish together. Her pretence of cool composure was hopeless. She might as well admit it; her nerves were stretched to snapping point and the butterflies were still dancing their crazy, endless fandango round her heart.
How could she have imagined that the night flight would be the easiest end to it all? That the anonymity of a softly lit airliner cabin and the soaring into the night over the city unseen in the darkness below would spare her the pain of watching the beloved landmarks fade from sight. The knowing that they were there, holding her memories and her happiness, brought a sense of loss almost unbearable. Now she wanted to look down on them for the last time, hold on to the fragments of everything her beloved city had meant to her; her home, her career, and Kevin...
Her fingers tightened on the stiff, cold magazine and she gulped. She mustn’t give way now. She fixed her gaze on the warning light and braced herself for the take-off; it must come any moment now.
The moment came. She felt the great plane lifting and for a moment she was afraid.
‘It’s all right. We’re up.’
The young voice was calm and cheerful, and Toni twisted sharply, aware of a rush of shame at her weakness as she met the wide friendly gaze of the child sitting in the next seat.
The little girl asked: ‘Could you open this for me, please? It’s stuck and I want my hankie out.’
Toni took the small white case on her knee and tugged gently at the zip-fastener. She saw the end of a thread caught in the teeth and wriggled her fingers underneath to prise it free. She handed the case back and smiled at the child’s polite ‘Thank you’, reflecting that her small neighbour was apparently travelling alone. And with remarkable self-possession. Of course the airlines took care of children who were forced by circumstances to travel alone, sometimes tremendous distances, but it still seemed frightening. The best laid plans could come unstuck and it was not difficult to imagine the landing at the other end with no one there...
‘We can undo our belts now.’ The little girl managed the small operation with ease and swiftness and smiled up at the air hostess who had approached for that purpose. ‘I practised fastening and unfastening mine for ages when I went to Italy with Gran last year.’
She rummaged in her bag and produced a packet of sweets which she proffered to Toni. ‘Did your ears pop?’
‘A little bit,’ Toni admitted to the small friendly stranger. ‘Did yours?’
‘No. I suck and swallow all the time and they’re all right. Oh, the Captain’s broadcasting.’
The first of the routine little homilies designed by benevolent airlines to keep passengers in the picture and reassure the more timorous spirits among them ousted the fascinating subject of eustachian pressure and held the little girl rapt until the friendly tones of the Captain signed off with the customary good wishes for a pleasant flight.
Watching her, Toni could not completely suppress curiosity about her travelling companion. She was not a pretty child in the angelic-blue-eyes-and-curls sense of the word, but her small, rather pointed features radiated a certain piquant beauty of their own and indicated a decidedly strong and well-formed character. Her dark hair long and almost as raven as Toni’s own, was perfectly straight and drawn back tightly from her face into the confines of a neat scarlet bow set exactly in the hollow above the nape of her neck. Her brown eyes were wide and bright and alert, and one front tooth wasn’t quite even, seeming to lend a hint of mischief to her smile.
The little girl said suddenly: ‘Are you going as far as Nairobi?’
‘Yes. Then I change planes.’
‘So do I.’ The child heaved an exaggerated sigh of boredom. ‘I wish this one went all the way. Where are you going?’
Toni smiled. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of it. It’s a tiny island between Malagasy and Mauritius called-’
‘Salamander Isle! Is it?’ The child sat bolt upright. ‘Is that where you’re going? I live there.’
It was Toni’s turn to show surprise. ‘So do I. At least I’m going to, although I’ve never been there before.’
‘What’s your name? I’m Juliet Valmont. I was born there. Oh, isn’t it exciting? I’m going to stay with Daddy - you see I’ve been living in England since I was four. I had to after Mummy died.’ Juliet’s small face sobered. ‘She got a fever and Daddy told me there was only one place where she would get better and we’d have to let her go, even though she’d never be able to come back to us.’ The dark eyes were filled with sadness and Toni forgot her own troubles in a rush of sympathy for the little girl. She said softly, ‘I know, Juliet, because something happened to my mother when I was a baby.’
Juliet nodded understandingly. ‘So I had to live with Gran and Grandy because Daddy couldn’t look after me by himself. He’s the manager of the Caro-Fryer Sugar Plantation. Last year he came home on leave and I wanted to go back with him then, but they wouldn’t let me, and I missed him terribly after he’d gone. So I cried as hard as I could every time I got a letter from him and fretted until they said I could. Look,’ she dragged in the slack of her cream pleated dress, ‘I went off my food and lost two pounds. I’m going to look after him now because he’s lonely. I’m big enough now. I’m eight.’
Juliet paused for breath. ‘Are you going to look after your father?’
Toni shook her head. ‘No, I’m going to live with my stepmother and stepsister. You see, my father had a heart attack last year and he had to go away to get better.’
‘Oh.’ Juliet understood perfectly, and for a moment the two regarded each other with mutual sympathy.
Juliet recovered first and her expression suddenly changed, as though she recalled certain instructions over which she had been remiss. Rather stiffly, she said: ‘Am I being a nuisance?’
‘Good heavens, no!’ Toni looked startled. ‘I was dreading this long flight and not knowing anyone to talk to.’
Juliet relaxed visibly. ‘So was I, but Gran said I hadn’t to make a nuisance of myself.’
‘Well, you’re not. But,’ Toni hesitated, it isn’t always wise to make friends with strangers. People who look nice are sometimes horrid.’
‘I know. Gran told me. But I can tell which people are really nice and which ones are only pretending.’
Can you, my little wise one? Toni wondered. Oh, darling, try to remember that instinct isn’t always infallible.
The stewardess was serving supper, and now, judging by the way she was ensuring that at least one tray was going back in a state of polished bareness, Juliet was bent on regaining those lost pounds as speedily as possible.
Toni, who had little appetite herself, saw the sidelong glance at the little square dish of cherry-topped dessert she did not want and interpreted it instantly. After a hasty glance round to make sure they were unobserved she performed a neat switch with Juliet’s empty dish and put her finger to her lips as Juliet breathed: ‘Ooh! Are you sure you—? Golly, thanks!’ then spent the next ten minutes wondering fearfully if she’d been wise. It would be awful if Juliet was sick.
But Juliet wasn’t. Happily replete, she said: ‘I feel better now.’ She curled up against the back of her seat and sighed. �
�You know, I’ve nearly forgotten what Daddy looks like. It’s nearly a whole year since I saw him.’
‘You’ll be seeing him tomorrow. It won’t be long now.’
‘I wish it was tomorrow now.’
‘Why don’t you try to go to sleep? Then it’ll be nearer when you wake up.’
Juliet pursed her small mouth in comical resignation. ‘That’s what Gran said. She said she was breaking all the rules letting me have a late night last night so that I’d be ready to sleep the clock round on the plane. But I’m not sleepy.’
Toni looked down at the small vivid face and saw the fatigue which lay behind over-excitement. She said gently, ‘If you don’t have a good sleep now you’ll be so tired tomorrow you’ll fall asleep and not be able to talk to your father. Don’t you want to be on top of the world when you meet him?’ Juliet nodded, and she went on persuasively, ‘Now close your eyes and think about something nice. Pretend you’re dreaming and you’ll be asleep in two winks.’
Obediently the child closed her eyes and wriggled closer to Toni, huddling her face against the junction between the two seats. She was silent for a little while, then she said: ‘I’m thinking about last night. Gran took me to the ballet for a special treat. I love ballet and Gran said there wouldn’t be any on the island.’
Toni swallowed hard. ‘What did you see?’
‘Swan Lake. It’s the most beautiful ballet I’ve ever seen. It’s about a beautiful girl who is enchanted by a wicked magician and turned into a swan. And the Prince falls in love with her, but the wicked magician has a daughter and she pretends to be the Swan Queen ...’ Juliet sighed softly and her small face was enrapt. ‘The Prince promises to marry the Black Swan and there’s thunder and lightning and everyone is terrified. Then the White Swan is crying outside the window and she knows she’ll have to die... She was the most beautiful dancer in the world. Oh, Toni,’ she murmured sleepily, ‘I wish I could be a ballerina.’
The old eternal wish of a child spellbound by the enchanted world of ballet. Toni averted a face suddenly white, not daring to speak lest she betrayed herself. The painful memories flooded back of the world that had been her own until a twist of cruel fate robbed her for ever of the magic. She had known, only once, the anguish of the White Swan, the joy of interpreting that anguish. For a few fleeting hours in her young life the supreme accolade had been hers, the beginning of the reward for the long years of striving, only to be snatched away by a frightened puppy, a greasy road, a tumbling cycle ... and then the dreadful truth; her career was over. She would never dance again.
The great airliner soared on above the roofs of Europe thousands of feet below, a sleek silver capsule streaking into the illimitable expanse of star-studded infinity.
The soft lights dimmed one by one in the quiet cabin, and Toni’s eyelids drooped over hot, dry eyes. She cuddled the sleeping child into a more comfortable position and tried to close her mind to the past beyond recall, and all the might-have-beens. The future lay ahead, endless, empty, to be begun anew on a dot in the Indian Ocean. Now her only home, but she was going as a stranger. What did it hold that could ever replace that which was lost ... ?
Juliet’s sleepy stirrings roused Toni to the chill cramped ebb of spirit just before dawn. She moved stiffly, easing her position and groping for an errant court shoe which had slipped off while she slept. Juliet wriggled herself awake and craned sideways to blink along the length of the cabin.
‘Are we nearly there?’ she asked.
Toni glanced at her watch and shook her head. ‘We’ve a while to
go yet, I think.’
‘Will we be over Africa now?’
Toni nodded.
‘It’s very big, all of it together.’ Juliet sighed, and suddenly her young face closed in, wan and pinched and vulnerable. ‘Please, Toni,’ she whispered, ‘can I stay with you? I mean, when we get off in Nairobi and go on the other plane?’
‘Of course, darling. I’ll stay with you until I see you safe with your father. Now shall we start getting ready before the rush starts? You go first. Got your sponge bag and toothbrush? All right?’
But when they came down at last out of the crystal blue over Nairobi the stewardess approached and with a tactful smile at Toni took charge of a reluctant Juliet and briskly swept her away from the shuffling egress of disembarking passengers.
Toni smiled after her and gave a reassuring wave before the long dark hair and cream pleats were whisked out of sight. Presumably the stewardess would hand Juliet over to another airline official in whose charge the child would remain until it was time for her to board the other aircraft.
There was over an hour to wait, a long time to while away alone, yet not long enough to go out and seize a brief glimpse of the fabled dark continent. To be actually on African soil and to have to leave again without seeing any farther than the limits of the airport, attractive as it was with its gleaming buildings and bright gardens under the dazzling African sun. Toni sighed; she would have liked to explore Nairobi.
She found the airport shop and lingered over the African carvings and the cosmopolitan display of bait for souvenir-hunting tourists before she chose a selection of postcards and went in search of the restaurant.
There was no sign of Juliet. She ordered a fruit drink and found a corner table where she began to allot her cards. This one for Sara ... This one for Kim. The one of Treetops for Lisa because she’d once visited the famous game park. This special one for Kevin and the flamingoes for ...
The pen slithered from her hand and fell unheeded to the floor as past and present merged in a hot aching rush of nostalgia. Where were they all at this moment? What were they doing? Sara, Lisa, Kim, and ... What were they rehearsing this morning? Coppelia? Sylphides, or that new abstract ballet of Mark Kayler’s that was going into production for the visit to Copenhagen? They would be scurrying to the theatre now, clustering at the hall-keeper’s little office inside the stage-door demanding their mail, bemoaning new point-shoe blocks that were too hard, too soft, too stiff, too noisy ... ‘Absolutely crippling, darling’ ... ‘Did you see Elise fluff her last-act pirouettes?’ ... ‘I could have died! Right in the middle of the Prelude’ ... ‘Arkle would make a better partner than that butterfingered third-leg!’... ‘I say, I’m down for Sugar Plum Fairy at the matinee’...
Toni raised a trembling hand to her brow and pressed her lips tightly together. Would she ever escape the memories? And face the fact that her dancing career was ended. That she would never
Abruptly she stood up and thrust the postcards into her bag. She had to move, walk, do something, anything rather than sit alone in a crowd, fighting the longing and the sadness. It must be nearly time for the plane. Where was Juliet? Were they looking after her?
Forcing herself into the present, Toni made her way back to the transit hall and almost immediately heard her flight called. There was still no sign of Juliet, and rather anxiously she boarded the plane.
‘Toni!’
The first thing she saw was the dark head bobbing eagerly over the back of a seat. Juliet waved and beckoned.
‘Here, we’ve got window seats this time. And I changed seats with an Indian gentleman who is only going as far as Zanzibar and said he didn’t mind so that I could sit beside you. Oh, and Toni! Guess what? I had coffee with the Captain and the spare pilot off our other plane!’
Juliet waited to see the effect of this divulgence, and when Toni smiled and made the appropriate response went on excitedly: ‘Oh, he was gorgeous! Every bit as nice as his voice. And he gave me this — look!’
She displayed a postcard-size photograph. ‘This is the actual VG 10 we came in, and look what he wrote on the back.’
Obediently Toni did so and smiled at the message scrawled there: ‘Dear Juliet. We always take good care of you. May all your landings be happy ones,’ and a flowing signature Toni could not completely decipher.
She handed it back and commented: ‘You seem to have been thoroughly spoilt and gi
ven the V.I.P. treatment.’
‘Mm, it was super!’ Juliet subsided in her seat and investigated the fresh possibilities a change of airlines offered in the way of free literature. After a thorough exploration of the map pocket she said with a blase air that sat comically on so small a person: ‘It’s an awfully little plane after the other one, isn’t it?’
Toni sighed wryly and explained the economic and other reasons why a giant VC 10 jet liner was not exactly suitable for short-distance island-hopping and small landing fields.
‘But we’ve still a long way to go,’ Juliet reminded her, giving her a sudden intent glance. ‘You’ve got that sad look in your eyes again, like you had last night. Have you got tummy-ache?’
Heavens! Was her pretence of brightness so obvious even to a child who had hardly made her acquaintance? Toni made herself frame a laughing denial and added: ‘Didn’t you know that grownups aren’t half as brave as children when it comes to leaving the place and people they love to start a new life in a strange land?’ Quickly she veered. ‘You haven’t told me properly about your Captain. I didn’t even see him.’
Juliet was only too happy to oblige. Her new hero was depicted in lengthy detail and the moment of childish perception was forgotten.
The coastline was crossed, the spice island of Zanzibar was left like a green jewel glowing in azure mist, and the long lap over the sea to Malagasy stretched ahead. Juliet fell quiet now, beginning to show traces of the travel weariness which was making Toni herself despair of ever reaching journey’s end.
Afterwards she retained only the haziest recollections of the scheduled brief stop at Tananarive, a stop which stretched to almost an hour while tempers flowed and voices argued over some hitch, the cause of which she was too weary to evoke interest in or care. The heat in the cabin grew intense, and some of the passengers got out and stood under the shade of a wing until at last the voices quelled, more passengers and a shipment of fruit came aboard, and, unbelievably, they were off.
Juliet’s youthful vitality came back in full measure. Unable to sit still, she bounced up and down, consulted her watch every few minutes and peered down at the haze of blue, until at last she cried:
The Whispering Grove Page 1