Road to Paradise Island

by Victoria Holt

  "I don't think that will matter."

  I stood on the sandy beach and looked back. There was no sign of Cariba and the other islands.

  "I should have thought they were near enough to be seen," I commented.

  "We're on the other side of the island."

  I shaded my eyes and looked about me. There was a cove in which lay two ships. One quite big.

  "What now?" I asked.

  "Explore."

  "How could we tell even if we are on Paradise Island?"

  "I don't know. We just have to wait and see what happens."

  Something was happening now. A man was coming towards us. He was of medium height with blond hair and light blue eyes. Did I have the feeling that I had seen him before—or did I fancy that afterwards?

  He put out his hand and said: "Welcome to my island."

  I put my hand into his.

  He said: "Let me introduce myself. I am Magnus Perrensen."

  I was in a state of bewilderment and incredulity and it is difficult for me even now to remember that day very clearly. From the moment he had taken my hand and spoken I felt as though I were living in a dream. I just stared at him. In that moment I was not myself. I was Ann Alice who had become me—just as he, the lover of long ago, now stood before me on Lion Island.

  "I'm Annalice Mallory," I told him.

  "At last you have come," was his answer.

  "I ... I don't understand. What does this mean?"

  "You know who I am," he replied. "So there is a great deal we have to say to each other."

  We both seemed to have forgotten John Everton who was standing by looking puzzled and uncertain—as well he might.

  "Come into the house," said Magnus Perrensen.

  We walked up a slope. I was trying hard to grapple with common sense. I am dreaming, I thought. I must be. How could he be Magnus Perrensen. He must have died years ago.

  The house was magnificent. It was dazzlingly white in the shimmering heat and brilliantly coloured flowers bloomed in the gardens which surrounded it and my mood of bewilderment touched it all with an air of unreality.

  He led us through a door into a cool paved hall.

  John Everton who had not spoken so far said in awed tones: "It is splendid."

  "You should have brought Miss Mallory before," said Magnus Perrensen.

  "The idea that we should see the island only came to Mr. Everton this morning," I said, and as I spoke I felt more normal. The memory of meeting John Everton outside the hotel and discussing the trip brought me back to reality.

  We went into a room with tall windows looking over the sea.

  Magnus Perrensen turned to John Everton. "By a strange coincidence," he said, "Miss Mallory's family and mine were in contact years ago. We have a great deal to discuss. It was a stroke of good fortune that you brought her here today. Thank you."

  "I'm glad of that," said John Everton rather awkwardly.

  "We don't have many visitors here. We don't encourage it. It's by way of a retreat for my family. When we are here we like solitude."

  "Perhaps," I began, "we should not have disturbed you ..."

  He looked at me reproachfully. "You are welcome ... welcome indeed."

  A servant appeared and he asked for cool drinks to be brought. His order was immediately obeyed.

  I could not stop looking at him. I was taken right back to that night when I had sat up in bed reading Ann Alice's diary. Something had happened to me then ... when I sat in that room ... when I had tended her grave... and now here I was on a remote island ... sitting face to face with Magnus Perrensen.

  I was aware of course that this was not the young man who had worked in our shop and had planned to marry Ann Alice and take her in search of the island, any more than I was the girl who lay in that grave at Little Stanton. But some part of those people lived on in us, and I believed that I was on the verge of a great discovery.

  At length Magnus Perrensen said: "Mr. Everton, you would like to see the island. Miss Mallory and I have a great deal to talk about because of our family connections. You will need a horse. I will arrange for someone to take you round. Luncheon will be served at one o'clock."

  "I shall have to go back," I explained. "I have a friend at the hotel. She is ill and will be wondering what has become of me."

  "If you go back immediately after luncheon it will mean being on the sea in the heat of the day."

  "Then I must get back before," I insisted.

  He smiled at me. "Very well. Just an hour... leave in an hour's time. I will tell them to bring you back, Mr. Everton, in one hour. That will give us a little time to talk and next time it shall be longer."

  So I was alone with him.

  "I see that you are bewildered," he said.

  "I am indeed."

  "You know something of what happened years ago?"

  I explained about the night of the storm and our finding the journal.

  "That Magnus Perrensen was my greatgrandfather."

  "So you know the whole story of what happened?"

  It is a story which has been passed down through my family. My greatgrandfather told it to my grandfather, and he in his turn to my father and so to me. We were all named Magnus. It makes a kind of continuity. And you are Annalice ... which is a little different from Ann Alice ... and yet similar though."

  I said: 'This is not the island ..."

  He shook his head.

  "Please tell me what you know," I begged.

  "As I said the story has been passed down through my family. When my greatgrandfather returned to Little Stanton it was to find his bride-to-be dead. She had died, he was told, of the plague which was raging nearby. At least that was the story. He didn't believe it. The matter was wrapped in such secrecy and there was the room. People talked a great deal about that. It was walled up by the local carpenter and builder who prospered from that time. My greatgrandfather believed that it was because this carpenter had seen something in the room which must never be known and the price of his silence was money to enable him to prosper in his business."

  "What did he see in the room?"

  "My greatgrandfather believed that Ann Alice was murdered. Her stepmother and her lover murdered her. She was probably shot. There would be bloodstains all over the room. Shooting is not a neat way of disposing of people. They daren't let what was significant in that room be seen. They were able to conceal the evidence of their crime because of the plague. There was a case of some tailor's rooms having been walled up because of the goods in them. They got away with that. They never would but for the plague and the bribable carpenter."

  "It sounds very plausible."

  "I believe when you saw me you thought for a moment that I was that Magnus Perrensen. Did you perhaps think you had become Ann Alice?"

  "I had read her journal and it is still very vivid in my mind. Something seemed to happen to me after I had read it. I just felt part of her, and for a moment when I saw you on the beach and you told me your name ... I felt strange and quite bewildered. Yes. for a moment I did feel that I had stepped back in time."

  "Nothing so strange, I assure you. There is a logical explanation to everything that happens on Earth I feel sure. I suppose we all have something of our ancestors in us. Isn't that proved? Traits of character handed down from generation to generation ... There must be something of that Magnus in me and something of Ann Alice in you. It

  seemed like a miracle to me when you came along this morning. R>r a moment I thought it was a fusion of the past and present."

  "You said: 'At last you have come.'"

  "I did, did I not? It was involuntary, as though someone was speaking through me. You felt it too."

  "Yes, it was a very strange moment."

  "Now calm reason is here."

  "Tell me everything that happened. There was no island, was there?"

  He shook his head.

  "Let me tell you what I know and you shall tell me. This is the story we heard in our
family. My greatgrandfather, Magnus Perrensen, came back to Great Stanton. He had been to London to make arrangements for the journey back to his family. He was going to take Ann Alice with him."

  I nodded. This was exactly what I had read in the journal.

  "He came back to learn that she was dead. Died of the plague, they said. She was already buried, as people were quickly in such circumstances. They had walled up her room because of the fear that things might be infected. He would not believe it. He was highly suspicious of the stepmother and the man whom he suspected of being her lover. He was heartbroken. He wanted to know the truth and he wanted vengeance. There were no more cases of the plague. There had been only two men apparently and Ann Alice who were alleged victims. The men were tailors who had been buying materials somewhere in the Middle East. He could not rest. He wanted to know. He became suspicious. He questioned the carpenter and he was not satisfied. But there was nothing else he could do. He was young and a foreigner and the people at the Manor were rich and powerful. In time he gave up and came back to his family. He could not rest though. He wanted to go back and find that island."

  "Did he find it?"

  He shook his head. "No. There was no island. He wouldn't believe it at first. It was a long time before he had to accept it. He would not leave the area, so he went to Australia and there he became interested in looking for gold; he always believed he would find the island although he searched continually and there was nothing where he believed it must be."

  "Do you think it was a hallucination? He was shipwrecked, wasn't he? And he was only on the island for a short time. It was strange that he was shipwrecked a second time. Do you believe that he imagined the whole thing? If he did he must have drifted for days and days at sea."

  "I think that is a conclusion we have to come to—though he never did at heart. You see, the island was perfect ... too perfect. Those lovable natives ... the gold everywhere. It was a dream... an ideal. Perhaps he came to this conclusion in time, though I don't know. However, he discovered gold. He had great success. He went in for mining on a large scale. He was obsessed by gold because it was there on his island. Well, that was the start. He became rich; he married a girl in Melbourne; he had a son, my grandfather... That's the story. It was my father who bought this island. We use it as a sort of refuge. We come here for long spells sometimes ..."

  "You and the rest of your family?"

  "Mostly myself. I have no brothers or sisters. My father does not come here much now. He leaves it for me."

  "And your family... your wife and children?"

  "I have not married ... yet."

  "Oh, are you planning to?"

  He looked at me very steadily. "I suppose most people think of marrying sometimes. There have been occasions ... but something has held me back. And you? But perhaps I am asking too personal a question?"

  "As I did of you?"

  He laughed. He said: "We are not really strangers, are we? How could we be in these very special circumstances?"

  "That's true. You asked me if I was planning to get married. There is someone at home. I thought I might marry him. He has asked me, but as yet..."

  "I understand perfectly. And you came out here ... ?"

  "I came with a friend who was going to be married. I wanted to find my brother."

  "Your brother. So you have family."

  "I had a brother. We were very close because of the family situation, I suppose. My mother died when I was born and my father married again and lives out of England. My grandmother took charge of my brother and me. When we were young there was a question of our being separated and that of course brought us very close together. He came out here in search of this mythical island... and we haven't heard from him since."

  "How long ago was that?"

  "Two years."

  "Oh... that's bad."

  "I came out to find him."

  "How did you hope to do that?"

  i

  "I wasn't sure. I thought I might get clues and be led to the solution of the mystery."

  "And have you found any?"

  "None really. People knew him ... remembered him ... He was in Cariba. Then he left and no one has any idea where he went."

  "And you have not found anyone who could give you an idea?"

  I shook my head. "I am so frustrated. It seems so hopeless."

  "It does seem a hopeless task."

  "I really don't know what to do. I went out to look for the island. There is a man in Cariba. You probably know him ... Milton Harrington."

  "Who does not know of him? A forceful character. He practically owns the place, I believe."

  "He owns the sugar plantation there."

  "And he took you out to where you thought this island should be?"

  "Yes, there was a map. The one we found in the walled-up room after the storm. My brother took it. I made a copy. So we were able to see where it ought to have been. There was nothing there."

  "Nothing at all?"

  "Absolutely nothing. Mr. Harrington said there were no islands for a hundred miles at least."

  "And you have this map with you, this copy? Are you sure it is accurate?"

  "It's an exact copy of the one which was found in Ann Alice's room. I made it myself."

  " row did!"

  "You know of the family business. Your greatgrandfather was in the same when he came over to England. I suppose that was abandoned when he went into mining."

  "Oh yes, of course. Everyone knows of Mallory's maps."

  "I worked in the shop now and then. I knew a little about map making ... enough to make an accurate copy."

  "I see. I wish I could be of help regarding your brother. I should have been so pleased to meet him. This has been a most exciting morning for me."

  "For me too. I am still staggering from the surprise of hearing your name."

  "And you now know that I have not stepped out of the past. You know I'm no ghost."

  "It's all perfectly normal. You've explained so much. Isn't it extraordinary that we have met!"

  "It seems miraculous. But when you think of it, the island—this

  non-existent island—is the focal point. You've come looking for it as all those years ago my greatgrandfather did. It drew him here and he started our dynasty in Australia it's true, but we still thought of the island ... and then we came here to this one. You found the journal and the map... and you're here too. There's a sort of pattern to it."

  "Yes, that is what makes it so exciting."

  "Do you realize that our hour is drawing to an end. Need you return just yet?"

  "I must. My friend, Mrs. Granville, will be worrying. She is in rather a nervous state. She suffered a terrible experience in Australia. Her husband died violently."

  "Oh... that Granville. There was a case. The bushrangers, wasn't it? He was after them and fell from a balcony when his gun went off."

  "Yes, that is the case."

  "The papers were full of it. Poor lady, I can understand that she is in a nervous state."

  "I was in the house when it happened. I have brought her with me to Cariba. We shall go home together eventually."

  "Not yet, I hope."

  "I think we shall stay a little longer yet, though I can see that to try to find out what happened to my brother is rather a hopeless task."

  "I fear so."

  "And you understand I don't want to cause her anxiety."

  "Of course. They'll bring your companion back very soon. You will come again?"

  "I should like to. I am sure I shall remember all sorts of things I wanted to say after I've gone."

  "And if I may, I will come to Cariba."

  "That would be very pleasant."

  "Now that we have found each other so miraculously that is a beginning. I hear them coming now."

  "Then I must say goodbye."

  "Au revoir," he corrected me.

  John Everton came in looking flushed and rather pleased. "The island is beautiful. It
is a pity you cannot stay and see it."

  "Miss Mallory has promised to come again," said Magnus Perrensen.

  He walked down to the beach with us. He took my hand solemnly and kissed it. I still felt a little light-headed.

  "What a strange morning," said John Everton as we skimmed across the pellucid water. "Who would have thought we should have been so hospitably received! And what an odd coincidence that he

  should have known your family. Did you have a good discussion about all that?"

  "Yes. It was indeed very strange that our families should have known each other a hundred years ago."

  "That's quite amazing. I feel very gratified for having been the means of bringing you together."

  "Thank you. It was a wonderful experience."

  And as I sat back watching the reclining lion grow fainter and fainter, I still felt I was dreaming.

  I was seated in the courtyard in Milton Harrington's house and telling him about my morning's adventure. I had asked Maria to look in now and then on Felicity and if there was any need to send for me. Maria had nodded, giggling. There must have been speculation about my visits to Milton's house.

  He listened to my account of what had happened and clearly did not like it very much. I imagined he was a little piqued because there was a man in the neighbourhood as influential in his sphere as Milton was in his.

  "You mean you went out in a boat with this man!"

  "Well, I went out on another occasion with a man in a boat. Because his name was Milton Harrington does that make it all right?"

  "Of course it does."

  "You see, it seemed feasible and I did not want to leave any stone unturned."

  "So you went out and met this mysterious gold miner."

  "It was very odd—the most extraordinary thing that has ever happened to me. When I stood on the beach and he said he was Magnus Perrensen, which, as I told you, was the name of the man my ancestress was going to marry, I just felt as though I were dreaming... or I had been transported back in time. It was miraculous and then I discovered that he had descended from that man and he knew all that had happened... all that was in the journal because the story had been handed down from generation to generation in his family."