Gone Away

by Marjorie Moore

  “Claud—dear—aren’t we both a little crazy?” He made no answer beyond drawing her unresisting form more closely to him, and lightly kissing her fluttering eyelids. For a moment Maimie remained unresponsive, then with a scarcely perceptible movement she lifted her lips to his.

  “Sweetness, darling, darling...” Claud’s words of endearment were hardly audible as he held Maimie in an ardent embrace. “What does it matter if we are crazy? We’ve nearly three weeks in front of us; we needn’t return to sanity for a long while yet.”

  “I know. I suppose you’re right.” Despite the doubt in her tone, Maimie made no effort to release herself. “I suppose it’s very silly of us...” Her voice trailed away.

  “Don’t worry, my precious, it’s...” Claud’s words died on his lips as, suddenly relaxing his hold, he drew away. “Good heavens, the wanderers have returned!” he exclaimed, hoping that his voice sounded natural and that his expression did not betray the dismay he was feeling.

  Maimie, instinctively following her companion’s lead, sat up and swung round to face the direction of his gaze. For a moment she felt tongue-tied, then, swiftly regaining her normal poise, joined Claud in greeting the arrivals. “Hallo, Pat. Have you had a good time?” She was surprised at the steadiness of her voice.

  “We’re both hot ... and very tired.” Ian laughed. “By jove, you two look gloriously cool. I shouldn’t mind a swim myself. How about you, Patricia?”

  “I think it would be very pleasant.”

  Maimie looked up sharply at her friend. Had there been a hint of coolness in her answer? Wasn’t she lacking her usual enthusiasm? But Patricia’s expression was entirely noncommital, and, despite her searching scrutiny, Maimie was not enlightened as to her friend’s thoughts. How much could she have seen?

  “Well, what did you both think of Port Said?” Claud queried casually, and Maimie was conscious of a surge of gratitude for his nonchalant question and easy command of the situation.

  “A most fascinating spot. We both enjoyed it thoroughly,” Ian answered with enthusiasm.

  Patricia, on her part, was glad that Ian had taken the necessity of replying out of her hands, and, although aware that the two men had entered into an animated discussion on the recent improvement of conditions in Port Said, she scarcely heard one word of the conversation. Ian’s comforting words recurred to her mind, “Shipboard friendships don’t really mean a thing”, but she was miserably conscious that, although Maimie undoubtedly valued her friendship, as a chaperon she was putting up an exceedingly poor show.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Patricia rolled over on her narrow bunk, then slowly opened her eyes to the beam of sunshine filtering through the porthole. Stifling a yawn, she pulled herself up into a sitting position, and stared across the cabin at her friend. Maimie was still asleep, her head pillowed on her arm, her long lashes sweeping the smooth line of her cheeks.

  Patricia glanced at the small travelling clock on the table. Why, it was scarcely seven, and a shame to wake Maimie yet; so relaxing again on her pillows, Patricia gave herself up to her thoughts. She was not entirely happy concerning Maimie, whose growing intimacy with Claud had caused her many misgivings, for she had never been able to rid her mind of the scene by the swimming pool of which she had unfortunately been a witness; that incident had occurred so early in the voyage, and it was obvious to everyone that the friendship had deepened; they had been thrown continually into each other’s company, and the attraction had been mutual. Patricia sighed. Well, this was the last day of the voyage, a day of goodbyes, a day of reunions; surely her misgivings would prove to be without true foundation. Ian might be right in what he had frequently told her—shipboard friendships were usually transitory affairs.

  “Hallo. You awake?” Maimie’s voice, still heavy with sleep, aroused Patricia from her reverie.

  “Yes. Been awake ages. I didn’t disturb you because it’s early yet,” Patricia responded.

  “Early?” Maimie glanced at the clock, then swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “It may be, but don’t you realize that today we reach Singapore, and we may be in sight of land already?” Maimie exclaimed with a tremor in her voice.

  “Don’t be silly. It’s only seven. I don’t suppose we shall see land yet; we’re not due in until lunch time,” Patricia reminded her friend.

  “Only seven. I thought it was eight.” Maimie stretched her arms languidly above her head. “Thank goodness we needn’t get up for another hour at least.” She climbed on to the bed again and pulled up the sheet. “I thought I couldn’t have overslept on this day of days. Do you realize we’re really there?”

  “I do—worse luck.”

  Maimie turned quickly and scanned her friend’s face for a moment before speaking. “I believe you really mean it. Are you very sorry it’s all over?”

  “Yes, very sorry.” Patricia paused before continuing. “I’m terribly anxious to see Singapore, but, you see, this has been such a lovely month ... sort of care-free, irresponsible. This is the end of irresponsibility for me. I’ve got to look for a job, and quickly too. Life has become serious again. I’ve got to pull myself together.” She laughed in order to hide her very real depression.

  “Of course. Do you know, I’d quite forgotten. This tale about your coming out to meet friends had so stuck in my mind that I’d almost forgotten it wasn’t the truth.” Maimie’s smooth brow puckered thoughtfully. “Surely it won’t be difficult—to find a job, I mean—and there isn’t such an awful hurry. You know you are staying with us until we marry; you need not worry yet.”

  “I shall have that respite, but I imagine you’ll be marrying fairly soon, won’t you?”

  Maimie shook her head. “No...” There was an element of doubt in her tone. “I don’t think so.” She appeared to have difficulty in finding suitable words. “You see, I’ll have to talk it over with Seymour, but it seems silly to hurry our wedding now I’m here.” She smiled roguishly. “Particularly as I have such an adequate chaperon.”

  Patricia flushed. “Most inadequate, I’m afraid. Your aunt would be horrified. I don’t seem to have looked after you at all well.”

  “Nonsense ... you’ve been marvellous. I assure you that if Auntie had landed me with any of those other awful people she interviewed I should probably have thrown her overboard.” Maimie laughed. “You’ve been an angel. I only hope I haven’t neglected you too much. But you’ve had Ian; you haven’t really minded, have you?” she inquired childishly.

  “Of course you haven’t neglected me, as you call it. Ian has been awfully good to me and I’ve enjoyed his company. But I have worried a bit,” she admitted a trifle reluctantly. “You and Claud ... well, you did seem too friendly sometimes. I was afraid...” She broke off, at a loss for words.

  Maimie burst into peals of laughter at her friend’s obvious distress.

  “Worried about me!” she echoed. “There wasn’t anything to worry about, I assure you. Claud and I have had a lovely flirtation.” She glanced shrewdly at Patricia. “You realized that, didn’t you?” Without awaiting a reply, she continued, “It hasn’t hurt either of us, and Seymour will never know, so it won’t hurt him either. What does it matter, then? Surely you’ve flirted sometimes, haven’t you?”

  Patricia felt the warm color flood her cheeks. “I can’t say that I have ... perhaps just once, but I’ve changed since then. Men don’t interest me any more.”

  “Because you’ve never met the right one,” Maimie asserted with conviction. “Now Ian, for instance; he’s a dear, but even I wouldn’t consider having an affair with him. He’s altogether too ... too ... Oh, I don’t know, but he’s quite the wrong sort.”

  “He’s been a delightful friend, but please don’t imagine there is anything between us. In fact, I believe he is in love with someone out in Singapore. Once or twice he has hinted at it. Anyway, I hope so. I believe his first marriage was a bad go and I’d like him to be happy,” Patricia explained.

  “Oh, I see,” M
aimie replied. “Anyway, even if you’ve never flirted, you must have had one or two adventures. Heaven knows Aunt Harriet kept me tied up enough, but I did manage to have a little fun.”

  “I’ve told you I did have one adventure, but that was just nothing,” Patricia finished briefly. Then, as her friend urged her to continue, added, “Anyway, it was ages ago, the day I decided to leave home. I usually decide to do the most ridiculous things in a moment of impulse. Look how I made up my mind to take this journey.”

  “Yes, I know, but you haven’t told me what happened,” Maimie broke in.

  Patricia proceeded to give an eagerly listening Maimie an account of her only “adventure” with Kay. She told her finally the reason for the sudden departure she had made from her hotel and that she had never seen the man again.

  “What a silly ending,” Maimie exclaimed, dropping back against her pillows. “I don’t think much of that for an adventure,” she added contemptuously.

  “I didn’t think you would!” Patricia laughed. “Now, hadn’t we better be getting up? You know we’ve still quite a bit of packing to do.”

  “I suppose we had.” Maimie slipped from her bed and stood, clad in thin nylon pyjamas, staring through the porthole. “It’s hotter than ever today. Isn’t it incredible, having fine weather every day?”

  “Marvellous.” Patricia got out of bed. “It’s difficult to imagine that it’s probably rainy and cold in London.” She crossed to the basin and collected her towel and spongebag. “I’ll go along to the bath now. Shall I order yours?”

  “Please.” Maimie slipped into her dressing gown. “Singapore by lunchtime. I can’t believe that either.”

  “I’m longing to meet your future husband. I hope I like him.” Patricia laughed.

  “I think you will. He’s your sort—serious. I always told him I had every intention of converting him when we’re married. He’ll have to come down to my level and enjoy life more.” The note of levity left Maimie’s voice. “You won’t mind not taking a job right away—that is, if we delay our wedding—will you?”

  “My dear, I haven’t job a job yet!” Patricia laughed “I can hardly mind not taking it! But how long do you intend waiting before you marry?” she added more seriously.

  “I don’t know. Of course, it will depend on Seymour. But, you see, I know nothing of the country, nothing of the life, how to run a house or anything. Claud says you can have a wonderful time in Singapore if you’re a single girl; it seems silly to rush to marry now I’m here. Besides, it will be nicer for you to be certain of a home for a time, won’t it?”

  “Naturally it will.” Patricia’s words were unconvincing, and as she made her way along the narrow corridor to the bathroom, Maimie’s words kept recurring to her mind: “You can have a wonderful time in Singapore.” Claud had told her that, and Claud, as far as Patricia knew, lived just outside that city himself.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Oh, look! I am sure I can see him ... there, beside those crates!” Maimie’s voice rose excitedly.

  Patricia’s eyes followed the direction indicated by her companion, but among the excited crowds swarming the docks she found it impossible to pick out any particular figure. It was just as well, as a moment later Maimie spoke again, and this time there was a note of disappointment in her voice. “No, that isn’t him,” she announced somewhat ungrammatically. “I thought it was at first. I can’t think what’s happened to him. Supposing he didn’t understand which boat we were due on, and doesn’t turn up at all?” There was anxiety in her tone.

  Patricia slipped her arm through her friend’s as they leaned together over the rail. “Of course he’s there somewhere,” she reassured Maimie. “In that awful crowd it’s impossible to pick out anyone.”

  ‘I can’t think why they won’t allow passengers ashore.” Maimie’s voice was querulous. “It’s absurd keeping us hanging about like this.”

  “I expect it’s all those customs formalities or something like that, but we’ll be allowed to land soon and I’m quite certain that your precious Seymour will be waiting at the bottom of the gangway with open arms!” Patricia smiled. “Cheer up. I’m sure he’s not far away.” As she finished speaking, Claud Burny strolled toward the two girls and took up his position beside them. He threw his cigarette with careful precision across the rail into the water below before speaking. “Spotted your fiancé yet?” he inquired of Maimie with a casualness that amazed Patricia. It really was strange, she mused; here was Maimie getting all upset because her eyes hadn’t yet alighted on her fiancé, and then there was Claud inquiring about Seymour Warinder as if, during the past four weeks, his one ambition had been to see Maimie reunited with her future husband.

  “No, I can’t see him anywhere. I was just saying to Pat, wouldn’t it be awful if he didn’t come?”

  “Nonsense!” Claud laughed. “He’ll turn up. You can’t expect to see anyone in that crowd. He’s probably lurking behind one of those cases of bananas!”

  “It’s all very well to laugh...” Maimie relapsed into eloquent silence.

  “It’s all right, my dear, really it is!” Claud’s voice was unusually gentle, so gentle that Patricia experienced a momentary surprise at the tender inflection. “He’ll be along by the time we’re ready to go ashore,” he added consolingly as his hand rested for a fleeting second on Maimie’s shoulder. “I suggest you both come along and have a farewell drink. We’ll find Alastar and get him to join us.” Maimie turned away reluctantly from the rail over which she had been leaning since the ship had been tied alongside, and allowed her friends to lead her toward the smoke room. “There’s Alastar!” Claud called out as he espied Ian in conversation with a group of passengers, obviously indulging in farewell speeches, and promises—usually broken—to look them up at an early date.

  “We’re going along for a drink. Come and join us?”

  “Rather!” Ian’s cheerful voice called in reply. “I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

  The other three made their way to the smoke room, and, with one impulse, selected the corner table that, during those happy days of travel, they had always occupied. That was how it had been throughout the journey ... a special corner, a special chair or table always ready, almost like their own property. When they were comfortably ensconced in deep leather armchairs, Claud re-opened the conversation. “Strange to think this’ll be our last drink on board—but not our last drink together.” He beckoned a steward and gave the order. “I hope we’ll have many more meetings ashore.”

  “You’re not living far from Maimie’s future home, are you?” Patricia questioned, conscious of anxiously awaiting Claud’s answer.

  “Warinder’s estate is about six miles from my bungalow; we’re both a few miles outside Singapore,” Claud explained. “Ian’s right in Singapore. Dr. Wane, the fellow he’s joining, has got a big practice there.”

  “I see.” Patricia lapsed into silence and sipped the cocktail the steward had placed before her.

  “Dr. Wane will be here to meet Ian, I suppose,” Maimie suggested. “Did anyone spot him on the dock?”

  “I didn’t, although I expect he’ll be there, and his sister too. They are bound to meet Alastar, considering he’s going back to stay with them.”

  As Claud spoke, Ian Alastar’s figure appeared in the doorway, “I say, you must excuse me not joining you. The purser has just told me that Dr. Wane has come on board. I can’t stop now; I must go down to the gangway and find out.”

  “Do you know if Seymour was there as well?” Maimie called after Ian’s departing figure.

  “Can’t say, but if he was I’ll tell him where to find you,” Ian called back.

  “I can’t bear waiting here; if he’s on board I must go and find him.” Maimie made to rise, but Claud urged her back to her seat.

  “Don’t be silly; you’ll only miss him. Alastar will tell him where you are, and, if he has come aboard, he’ll be along in a moment.”

  Patricia suddenly became awa
re of Maimie’s glance turned to the aperture of the doorway leading to the deck, where a figure stood silhouetted against the brilliant blue of the sky beyond. Before she had realized the probable identity of the newcomer, Maimie had struggled to her feet and made a whirlwind rush toward the advancing figure. “I wondered what had happened to you ... I thought you must have forgotten to come.” Maimie’s words were no longer coherent as the tall stranger caught her flying figure in his arms and, almost lifting her from the floor, held her in a tight embrace. It was not until the newcomer had released Maimie that Patricia obtained a view of Maimie’s future husband. Her first impression was of his extreme height, for Maimie, still held closely to his side, scarcely reached his shoulder. Patricia raised her eyes to his face; then, suddenly, it was as if the present had faded away and she was back again in England, standing cold and bedraggled, in the pouring rain, seeking shelter on a wet and draughty platform. She had never forgotten any single detail of her beloved stranger’s face—brushed-back hair, high forehead, and blue-grey eyes that underwent some subtle change even as the expression of that strong yet sensitive mouth had changed when he had smiled. He was smiling now. Her fingers unconsciously gripped more tightly on the stem of her glass. Surely this was just a trick of her imagination, a coincidental likeness. This man was Seymour Warinder, not Kay ... It couldn’t possibly be the same man. It was already a year ago; her memory was playing tricks; the whole thing was probably a ridiculous mistake...

  “Patricia ... Claud ... let me introduce you ... Seymour, my fiancé!” Maimie’s excited voice recalled Patricia to the present. For a moment she felt her hand held in a strong grip, then became vaguely conscious of the conversation around her.