The Whispering Grove

by Margery Hilton

‘A bit better, I think. I wish I could have been with you all. I—’ She stopped as Marise embraced her emotionally, and then everyone seemed to crowd on to the veranda, hugging her and talking at the same time. All except Lucy, who hovered a little way away, still at Justin’s side.

  Kit called to Ray to bring the champagne from his car, Ellie came rushing to see what was happening, and in a very short time it seemed the wedding celebration had merely shifted its locale to Villa Mimosa.

  ‘You can congratulate us as well.’ Norene came hand-in-hand with Ray, looking radiant. ‘Look!’ She extended her left hand and slowly closed one eye at Toni.

  More toasts and wedding cake, and hoary old jokes, and a great deal of laughter and noise. Happiness was in the air, Toni reflected, suddenly a little overcome at the affection being showered on her. Marise looked absurdly young today, more like an elder sister to Norene than her mother, and Kit Manton no longer seemed the hard, rather coarse character Toni had once adjudged him to be. The proverbial rough diamond, she reflected, finding herself temporarily isolated amid a current of cross-talk and mirth.

  ‘Weddings seem to be in the air a lot lately,’ said a light clear voice. ‘It’s making me feel lonesome.’ Lucy perched on the arm of the couch, her smile warm and friendly, and then let her expression sober as she glanced down at the broad white strapping on Toni’s foot. ‘Why didn’t you let us know what had happened?’ she asked. ‘I’ve just discovered you’ve been stuck here nearly a week. I was furious with Justin, because we could have arranged something for you.’ She produced a slim floral enamelled cigarette case and flipped it open. ‘You must be bored to distraction, not being able to get about.’

  ‘Are you bored, Toni?’

  The words were uttered dryly, and Toni started; she had not been aware of Justin standing silently behind her chair. She murmured an awkward denial which she knew was unheeded as Lucy’s bright auburn-capped head turned and she raised a laughing face.

  ‘Of course she’s bored. Who wouldn’t be? I know I’d go round the bend.’

  You, Lucy? I can’t imagine that.’

  The smile of indulgence which accompanied his remark sent a sudden stab of jealousy through Toni. She tried to subdue it and forced herself to smile as Lucy made a face at him and said with mock scorn: ‘Oh, you men are all devoid of imagination in certain respects. Now about the week-end ... I insist that you all come over to us for the day. It’ll be a change for Toni, and of course you must bring Juliet. We’ll find lots to amuse her. Settled?’

  ‘Well ...’ Toni looked doubtfully at Justin, and he raised his brows. ‘Why not? Thank you, Lucy.’

  She waved her hand with a gesture of dismissal and said: ‘Good, I’m looking forward to it. Apart from cheering up Toni, if you don’t make it this week-end, goodness knows when we’ll see you again. You’re cutting the cane next week, aren’t you?’

  ‘Starting Monday. And I’ll have to burn the three fields in number five sector — they’re rank with weed and trash.’

  ‘So that means we have to pray there’s no rain before you get it harvested,’ Lucy said. She turned a sympathetic smile on Toni. ‘You’re going to find out now what it means to be married to a sugar wallah. He’ll come home to you at all hours like a blackened scarecrow with singed whiskers and reeking to high heaven.’ She wrinkled her nose attractively. ‘Still, you won’t mind, will you, darling?’

  ‘I didn’t know sugar cane had to be burned,’ Toni said doubtfully. ‘Doesn’t it spoil it?’

  ‘Not if it’s kept dry and harvested as speedily as possible. It’s standard practice in some parts of the sugar belt,’ Justin explained patiently. ‘I prefer not to, unless it’s necessary.’

  ‘I see,’ said Toni, conscious of Lucy’s somewhat amused expression at her ignorance of sugar harvesting procedure, and suddenly wishing she’d asked Justin to acquaint her with more technicalities.

  ‘Oh, what’s this?’ Lucy spotted the musical box and reached for it curiously. Her hand hovered over it and she glanced inquiringly at Toni. ‘May I? I adore these things.’ Smiling a little, she wound it and balanced it on graceful, pearl-tipped fingers, the expression in her eyes veiled by a sweep of long lashes as she raised the lid and watched the tiny dancer start to spin.

  ‘It’s sweet. Yours?’

  ‘Juliet’s.’

  ‘But you gave it to her, I’m sure.’ Lucy glanced up, and now she was pretending charming exasperation. ‘I know that melody ... I just can’t place it.’

  She tilted her head on one side, listening, and then looked up at Justin. Then a slow smile of triumph curved her mouth and she gave a soft, jubilant exclamation.

  ‘I’ve got it!’

  In a surprisingly sweet voice she softly sang the nostalgic plea, and in the sudden hush that came as she stopped and closed the lid the echoes struck at Toni with a chilling significance. La Vie En

  Rose.

  ‘Take me to your heart again ...’ Was it coincidence? Imagination? That slumbrous glance at Justin ... Or did she mean ... ?

  Sandanna House stood on the hillside overlooking the bay on the far side of Port. It was the largest villa on the island, and the most opulent, its sprawling grounds enclosing a swimming pool and its own strip of beach with a landing stage and boathouse.

  Juliet, at least, showed signs of eager anticipation of the day’s outing as they set off on the Sunday morning. Complete with borrowed camera and her swimming togs, she did not appear to notice that Toni was somewhat withdrawn and her father’s responses to her usual string of questions consisted of monosyllabic replies.

  ‘Well, there’s none of that painful shyness about Juliet — you can take her anywhere,’ Justin commented dryly as he halted the car and watched Juliet bounce out, waving to the approaching Lucy.

  ‘Hello! Oh, not Aunty Lucy, please!’ she begged, laughing down at Juliet and holding out welcoming hands to her guests. ‘We’ve got the place to ourselves today, the parents have gone fishing. Some of the others are coming over later,’ she added, matching her pace to Toni’s enforced slow one.

  It was impossible to fault Lucy’s hospitality. There were drinks

  — long and short - for every taste, iced sherbet for Juliet, fruit and sweetmeats, a guests’ cloakroom which was thoughtfully furnished with all the small sundries a woman might need; tissues, aspirins, talc, hair-spray and so on. A comfortable lounger under a large sun umbrella had been placed by the pool for Toni and to hand were magazines and a small transistor radio, and a Lucy so warm and friendly it was difficult to believe in the remembered glint of enmity once glimpsed in her eyes.

  ‘I’m not an invalid,’ Toni protested, embarrassed by the display of benevolence.

  ‘Darling, of course you’re not. Just relax and be a sybarite for once,’ Lucy enjoined, ‘and do exactly as you like. Everybody does here.’

  ‘Can I go in the pool, Aunty - sorry, just Lucy,’ Juliet giggled, having lost no time in making herself at home and changing into her minute swimsuit.

  ‘Of course, darling. That’s the shallow end,’ Lucy pointed. ‘Can you swim?’

  ‘A bit.’ Juliet advanced to the edge and gazed at the bright-coloured tile pattern under the sparkling water.

  ‘I’ll join you.’ Lucy slipped out of her white and emerald beach jacket and revealed a very brief white bikini with gilt cords lacing it in place. She dropped the jacket on a chair and played a smile of

  invitation between Justin and Toni. ‘Going to change and join us?’ Toni shook her head, and Justin said: ‘No togs.’

  Lucy raised her brows. ‘Plenty of spares in the locker — or have you forgotten already?’

  ‘Perhaps later - I’m feeling lazy.’ Justin’s eyes were hidden behind dark glasses and his tone gave no indication of anything other than casual politeness. Yet Toni had the impression his gaze was following the tall slender redhead as she went to the pool and climbed the steps to the board, to launch herself cleanly into the water.

  There was
no denying her attractiveness, particularly in a bikini, thought Toni, suddenly remembering why she did not know — Kevin. A sexy strip would have been his pronouncement on Lucy, but with no goose-pimples to write the invitation. The tropics precluded goose-pimples, she thought wildly, and certainly Lucy had no need of any invitatory ploys.

  ‘She’s trying to teach Juliet the butterfly stroke,’ remarked Justin.

  ‘Yes.’ Toni watched the antics in the water. ‘She’s being very patient with Juliet.’

  Justin turned his head. ‘You don’t care for the idea of being friendly with her, do you?’

  The unexpected challenge startled her, and for a moment she was unable to frame a suitable reply. Then she said with uncompromising honesty: ‘No.’

  ‘She’s quite a generous person.’

  ‘Yes,’ Toni responded in a low voice. Generous in material things, perhaps, of which she’s fortunate enough to have in abundance. But what of the non-material things?

  ‘Is it because of what I told you?’ Justin asked quietly.

  ‘Not really.’ Toni kept her tone even. ‘Not everyone can form instant friendship. A woman has a different approach to her own sex.’

  He was silent, then abruptly he got to his feet. ‘I think I will change and have a dip.’ Without looking back he strode towards the little chalet which was used as a changing room.

  For Toni the day dulled and began to drag. No matter how hard she tried she could not pretend a warm, responsive friendliness towards Lucy Sandanna. It was a little easier later on when Roger Drew and Norene and Ray, along with several other young people arrived.

  As soon as the rapid tropical dusk fell the lights were switched on round the pool and music for dancing came from a concealed amplifier somewhere in the vicinity.

  Lucy had changed now, into a slim, deceptively simple slip of deep midnight blue. It should have looked straight, but on her it contrived to cling and reveal, and from a bold chain of silvery links a big blue enamelled and filigree pendant watch swung between her breasts. On anyone less self-assured it could have looked flamboyant; on Lucy it looked perfect.

  ‘Another of her gimmicks,’ remarked Norene, flopping languidly in a chair beside Toni. ‘Watch for the young bloods rolling up to check with Big Ben. There, I knew it!’ She smiled cynically as Roger, approaching to claim Lucy as she slipped from her arms of her partner, instinctively took the watch in his hand and raised his other wrist. He was smiling, and it was too far away to hear what he said, but Lucy gave him a provocative glance and flicked the watch from his grasp as she slid into his arms.

  ‘That boy’s absolutely enslaved,’ Norene went on lazily. ‘You wouldn’t think he had a fiancee far across the sea. Oh, well, out of sight ... It won’t last, Lucy’s easy conquests never do, and he’ll hug his guilty conscience as he writes home.’

  Norene leaned over and helped herself to one of Toni’s cigarettes. Over the lighter flame her eyes were speculative. ‘Pity you had to do your foot in - your beloved is about to be the next victim. Think he’ll fall for the watch gag?’

  ‘Justin’s too adult.’ Toni instilled a conviction she was far from feeling into her voice. Nevertheless she watched intently. She felt she could not bear it if Justin’s hand strayed to raise that blatant piece of jewellery from the pearly silken skin against which it lay. She did not realize that she had released her breath in a long sigh when the seemingly endless dance refrain faded and Justin stepped back, free of Lucy’s arms and apparently entirely oblivious to the march of time in any form, and inclined his head politely to Lucy before he gravely took the waiting Juliet into his arms.

  ‘Doesn’t it worry you?’ Norene asked suddenly. ‘I mean about her coming back on the scene again, after ... I know it would worry me like hell. I’ve known Lucy for years, and I’m thankful I’m marrying her brother,’ she added dryly.

  ‘If he’d wanted her he could have married her.’ Toni stared ahead unseeingly. ‘It’s all over. Why should I be worried?’

  ‘I don’t know .’ Norene frowned. ‘There’s just something about you and Justin, and ... Oh,’ she shrugged, ‘I’m probably just imagining things. All the same, I wouldn’t trust her within a mile of any man of mine. I don’t think she wants to get married yet, she’s happier chalking up her score. If I were you I wouldn’t get too cosy with her. After all, why open the door to danger?’

  ‘I think it’s too late,’ Toni said bitterly, and for a wild moment was tempted to confide in Norene and seek her tough, worldly-wise stepsister’s advice. With an effort she checked the impulse; it couldn’t help, nothing could help. She could only live on, keeping to the pre-ordained pattern Justin had set, until he chose to seek some other pattern. Of what that might be she would not allow herself to think. But late that night, sleepless in her own room at Villa Mimosa, she wished with all her heart that Lucy Sandanna had stayed in Cape Town - for ever!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The following day Justin began the harvesting of the cane.

  As Lucy had prophesied, Toni was to see little of him during this busy spell and although the smoke-blackened scarecrow of Lucy’s simile proved to be a considerable exaggeration there was about him a tension and a grim ruggedness she had not previously suspected under the urbane, invariably immaculate Justin she knew.

  Sensing his tiredness and strain, she refrained from asking too many questions about the day’s work, but his reluctance to eat a substantial evening meal worried her; the packed lunch and can of beer he took to eat on the job each day was not enough, she felt, and on the Wednesday she could not hide her distress when she noticed the angry burn on his forearm.

  ‘It’ll be okay, it’s superficial.’ He brushed aside her concern. ‘The boys tend to rush in before the field cools. Anyway, that’s the finish of the burning the other sector’s clear.’

  ‘Yes ... Justin, I do wish you’d let me put on a dressing. Just till morning,’ she pleaded.

  ‘Will it make you happy?’

  Her mouth tightened. The words had not held indulgence this time, rather a weary resignation that wanted peace at any price.

  Silently she fetched a burn dressing from the first-aid box and bound it over his arm. Although he had bathed she could still smell the faint tang of smoke lingering in his hair as she bent to her task. It evoked its own strange appeal and a longing to lay her face against the dark, ruffled hair. But he did not glance at her, merely murmuring a brief ‘Thanks’ as she straightened, and she fell to wondering how much of his strained brusqueness was due to anxiety over the harvest or the font of the ever present fear she now lived with.

  She sighed; eventually the harvest would be over and the high pressure rush to get the cane shipped to the Mauritian refinery within the four-or five-day deterioration limit. The island’s sugar output was not great enough to make the installation of a refinery an economic proposition. There were times during the year when the plant would lie idle.

  Because of the pressure on Justin’s time he was now unable to collect Juliet from school each day and she was travelling home on the island bus. The next day she decided to stroll up the track and meet the little girl. The swelling in her foot had subsided and she was now able to trust her weight on it for short distances without too much discomfort.

  She leaned on the fence alongside the setting-down point and watched for the little blue vehicle emerging from the woodland to begin its wheezy journey up the hill. At last it appeared, a modest ten minutes overdue, and topped the rise. It slowed and the driver leaned from his window, looking puzzled when Toni made no move to climb aboard. He shrugged, and now Toni looked puzzled, for the bus gathered speed and moved on without anyone alighting.

  She stared after it. Why wasn’t Juliet on it? She couldn’t have missed it; there was no reason Toni could think of why she should. The Miss Ems were sticklers for punctuality. Not a little dismayed, Toni returned to the villa and after a few moments of thought picked up the phone.

  Yes, Juliet had left with
the other children at the usual time, with a good ten minutes to spare before the bus’s departure. Miss Mabel sounded most concerned; she couldn’t think why Juliet should not have come straight home,

  Worried now, Toni replaced the receiver after the concerned cluckings ceased at the other end and stared absently at the instrument as she pondered her next move. Almost immediately the bell shrilled its imperative summons and she started violently. Juliet... ?

  She recognized the voice before Lucy Sandanna had time to complete announcing herself and disappointment sharpened Toni’s voice to annoyance as she acknowledged and waited.

  ‘I thought I’d better let you know that Juliet’s here,’ said Lucy sweetly. ‘In case you were getting worried.’

  ‘I was worried,’ said Toni coldly, ‘when she didn’t come home at her normal time. Where exactly are you and Juliet?’ she asked pointedly.

  ‘At home, of course. She’s about to practise the butterfly stroke I was showing her last week-end. Remember?’

  ‘Yes. May I ask when all this was arranged?’

  ‘Oh, it wasn’t,’ said Lucy airily. ‘I happened to be driving past when she came out of school and - well, it was just impromptu. She was quite tickled at the idea, and of course she’s going to stay to tea afterwards.’

  By now Toni was simmering with anger. ‘Has it occurred to you how Juliet is going to get home? Justin has the car and the evening bus is far too late for her bedtime.’

  ‘Did you think I’d leave her to walk?’ Lucy’s voice was low with amusement. ‘Either Ray or I will drive her home, at the proper hour. All right?’

  ‘No! It isn’t all right. You should have told me previously. How did you know I didn’t already have other arrangements made?’

  ‘My dear,’ Lucy subtly altered her tone, ‘you are taking your maternal duties seriously. I’m sure Justin wouldn’t make all this fuss.’

  ‘I am Juliet’s mother now,’ Toni said icily. ‘She is my responsibility. Will you remember that in future and consult me before you issue any more impromptu invitations?’

  There was a silence. Then Lucy chuckled. ‘Justin certainly picked a real martinet for poor little Juliet. Okay, sweetie, she’ll be home soon. ’Bye.’