Sweet Seduction

by Whitelaw, Stella

  His strong face was lit by a flickering light from the oil lamp and she touched the firm outline of his jaw in a great wave of tenderness. She loved him. She did not want to lose him, whatever he had to say.

  "You see, I shouldn’t be doing this. Don’t you realise? Oh Kira, why did you have to be who you are? Reuben did marry eventually, a planter’s daughter called Elise, and I am their son. Reuben was my father and everyone believes that he also fathered Tamara. Your mother was my half-sister."

  "Your sister?" Kira almost choked on the words.

  "It’s a forbidden relationship. I cannot marry my blood-line niece. Leviticus, Chapter 20. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of your mother’s sister, nor of your father’s sister: for he uncovereth his near kin. Change the sexes, say he for she. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of your mother’s brother. That’s me. I am your mother’s brother."

  "I don’t believe it! I don’t! I don’t!" Kira clamped her hands over her ears to shut out the awesome commandments and the crescendo of storm noise making the windows rattle and the glass stream with water. "It can’t be true. Someone has got it all wrong. It’s only a rumour, after all. No-one has proved anything. Forbidden? It can’t be when I love you so much."

  She wept in his arms and Giles, distraught with his own anguish, did not know what to say. They both knew that the island’s strong religious roots would not tolerate their union. And there was no way he could leave Sugar Hill or the island which had always been his home, the factory and the workers who depended on him. Give up everything for love of a woman, for Kira? And there was his mother, slowly becoming paralysed.

  "Now I understand why Benjamin refused to help my mother when she was in trouble," Kira went on, more sadly. "It was years of bitterness surfacing. He was prepared to look after her when she was a child, for Dolly’s sake, but he washed his hands of Tamara when she was grown-up. She had left Barbados and married a Russian dancer, almost on impulse. It probably seemed like Dolly hurting him all over again."

  "You look so like Dolly. Those paintings by André La Plante. They could be you," said Giles. "That’s why you seem so familiar."

  "I look like Dolly? Not my hair. Her hair was dark."

  "The face, the smile, those dimples by your mouth, just like Dolly. The chestnut hair is from your Russian father. I think Ben’s always been angry, hurt and humiliated, even after Reuben’s death. All that gossip about the accident must have hurt him. But there was nothing to substantiate the rumours. There was never any enquiry. It was recorded as accidental death. Everyone knew that Reuben was tired, overworked, depressed. He fell, a momentary lapse that cost him his life."

  "Are you going to tell me what happened?" Kira went even colder. What else had happened? Reuben’s death? No-one had ever mentioned it before.

  "Some people think Ben pushed him but I don’t even want to think about it. We’ll get you back to the kitchen and the more cheerful company of Dolores and her brood. My coffee is cold."

  "So is mine," said Kira, standing up unsteadily. "But I won’t stay, Giles. I think my grandfather needs me, even more now. Fitt’s House is very exposed and so near the sea. He’ll be getting the worst of the hurricane. I’ll call for a taxi."

  "For heaven’s sake, woman, don’t be a fool. The telephone lines will be down by now. And no taxi driver in his right mind would come out in this, even if you could get through. You’re not going anywhere."

  "But I am, Giles. I must. He’s an old man. I can’t let him be alone in this hurricane. He might die. He’s my grandfather and the only family I have."

  She ran out of the room, along the corridor, now awash with water and debris, towards the front door.

  "Stop, Kira. Don’t go out. It’s madness," he shouted. "Benjamin’s a tough old man. He’ll cope."

  "But I must," she called back. She pulled open the heavy front door and was swept off her feet by the force of the storm. She saw a gust half lift the Mercedes off its wheels and crash it down on the drive, doors swinging open wildly. Debris was being tossed across the drive, palm leaves, branches, broken fencing. A whirlwind of sand enveloped the house.

  Kira drew back, tears stinging her eyes, coughing, her mind blank with misery. She could not go out in this. She would not last minutes on her feet.

  Hurricane Erica was in full force. She lashed the island with primitive fury; gusts of over 100 miles an hour ravaged the southern half. A great storm wall of sea water raced through the coastal districts. Flashes of jagged lightning lit up the dark, threatening clouds, splitting the sky apart.

  She crouched against the wall, mesmerised by the scene of destruction, unable to move, unable to think. Somehow she had to get to Benjamin, to tell him that she understood, to tell him that she forgave him.

  Giles brushed passed her. "I’ll get Benjamin," he said brusquely. "Don’t worry. You stay here."

  "I’m coming with you," she said, ducking her head against the wind, holding onto his belt. He turned and said something angrily, but the words were flung away. He tried to shake her off but it was no use. She had found a surge of strength that made her cling on to him. She could do it. Together they could do anything. "I’m not leaving you."

  She climbed into the car, wrestling with the door to close it. Giles got in, switched on the ignition and the finely-tuned engine responded with a low throb. He thrust the car into gear and planted his foot on the accelerator. The engine strained.

  "I don’t know if the car will make it," he said grimly. "But she’s big, heavy and powerful. So long as a tree doesn’t come down on us."

  A root was hurled across the low bonnet, narrowly missing the windscreen. Kira ducked automatically.

  "Want to go back? You could sit in the kitchen drinking my best rum."

  "No, I don’t want to go back," said Kira, trying to keep the fear out of her low voice. "I want to be with you. Don’t you realise that? There’s no-one in the world for me but you. And I don’t care who you are."

  She was not sure if Giles heard her. Now that they were out in the hurricane, the noise was deafening. Rain streamed down the windscreen, the wipers unable to cope with the torrent. Giles was driving on instinct, picking his way with caution; any rash move might land them in a ditch.

  "The electronic window button has jammed," said Giles, sounding more calm than he probably felt. "Can you wind it down, manually, and put your head out? Tell me if you can see anything ahead."

  Kira did what she was told. It was like putting her head under a shower. At first she could not see anything and her eyes were soon glued with water. But by half shading her eyes, her vision cleared enough to guide him.

  "There’s a tree down, about twenty yards ahead, on the left. Some of it is across the road. A bit more to the right . . . steady now, that’s it. We’re past. Heavens, there’s a bicycle coming towards us, slewed on its side."

  It was a nightmare drive through the back roads. They were both drenched with sweat and rain. They were nearing the narrow back lane to Fitt’s House when a ferocious gust caught the side of the Mercedes and slewed it across the road and into a stone wall. The beautiful bodywork crunched and groaned. The engine whined, protesting, whimpered, then cut out.

  "I think she’s had it," said Giles, sitting quite still, clutching the steering wheel. "Are you all right?"

  "I’m OK. Oh Giles, I’m so sorry. Your beautiful car."

  "It’s only a car," he said. "Come on, get out. We can walk it from here. Hang onto me and don’t let go. What do you weigh? Practically nothing, so you won’t be any help as ballast."

  "I’ll drag a rock around if you insist," said Kira, but the words were snatched away.

  She closed her eyes and hung onto Giles, letting him take the brunt of the force with his body. They were so near. Surely they could make the last few yards?

  The sea was sweeping up the lane, wave-lashed, swirling round their ankles, cold and unpleasant. Palm trees were bent almost double under the savagery of the wind. A striped beach
umbrella skittered passed like a frantic ballet dancer who had forgotten her steps.

  "Nearly there!" Giles shouted.

  Kira hardly recognised what was left of the garden and the drive. Giles was helping her climb, one by one, up the front steps, shielding her with his shoulders and arms, clearing a path through debris with his foot.

  Thirty

  A man came to the doorway, holding onto the shattered door, a look of astonishment on his lined face, grizzled hair awry, shoulders weary and hunched.

  "Grandfather," Kira cried out. She was across the last remaining space in moments. She threw her arms round the old man, hugging him with warmth and affection. He almost slumped against her, letting her strong arms hold him.

  "Grandfather, Grandfather," she choked, her hair blowing over her face. "You’re all right? I thought your sugary pink castle would have fallen down with all this dreadful wind and rain. But you’re here and Fitt’s House is still here. I was so worried."

  She could not say any more. Her pulse was beating so fast. She knew Giles was right behind her, probably surprised by her outburst. She did not know whether to laugh or cry.

  "There, there, child," said Benjamin roughly, awkwardly, getting wet. "Of course, I’m all right. So you know, do you? You know that I’m your grandfather? The wicked old man of your childhood, who made your life so difficult, who could have helped you but didn’t because he was plain cussed."

  "And you know who I am? How long have you known? I’m Tamara’s daughter."

  "I’ve always known," he said. "I’ve known for a long time. But come inside quickly, my dear. The porch, or what’s left of it, is no place for a family reunion. You too, Giles. We can’t stand out here. We’ll be blown away. It’s time we sorted this out."

  He led them to the back of the house, the safest part. The kitchen was solidly built and it was obvious that Benjamin had been sheltering there. A bottle of rum and a copy of The Advocate were on the floor beside his rocking chair. The newspaper’s pages flew across the room in a gust from the open front door. Giles went back and closed it, pushing a heavy piece of furniture against the splintered wood.

  The intense tropical storm was ravaging a path of destruction across the densely populated area of the southern coast, driving inland to violate Sugar Hill plantation, then taking an erratic turn to head out to sea again.

  They learned later that the path was ten miles wide. The hundred miles an hour wind lost some of its speed overland as it could no longer gather energy from the warm sea’s abundant circulation.

  Giles put his arm round Kira’s shoulder, hips touching her lightly. Kira melted at the touch, merging against him.

  "Perhaps I should leave you two alone," Giles said, touched by the obvious affection between them. "You have a lot of catching up to do."

  "You can’t go out, Giles. It’s too dangerous," said Kira quickly.

  "Look who’s talking?" Giles teased. "Who insisted on rushing out in the middle of the hurricane to find her grandfather?"

  "Did she now? I don’t deserve it," said Benjamin. He searched among the shattered contents of a china cupboard for two unbroken glasses. "They don’t match and they are the wrong size but they’ll hold a drop of rum to warm you up."

  "We don’t match and we’re the wrong size," said Kira, taking the glasses from his shaking hands. "But we’re going to get along very well together. You wait and see, Benjamin. Everything is going to be fine from now. So tell me, how did you know it was me?"

  "I got a letter from a hospital in London, from a Dr Armstrong, who seemed very concerned that a young woman, Kira Reed, was coming out to visit Barbados after a road accident, and that she had a grandfather on the island. But he said that you had some problems and were denying my existence."

  "But why did he do this? He didn’t know you," said Kira, astounded. "How did the letter reach you?"

  "It was simply addressed to Mr Reed, Barbados. So of course, it came to me first and I knew it was you. And I didn’t blame you for not wanting to know me. When I saw you, over the wall, I knew you were my granddaughter. My dear, there’s so much of Dolly and Tamara in you, in the shape of your face, your eyes, your dimpled smile. Tamara was the sweetest little girl and I loved her dearly."

  "But you didn’t help her when she needed you," said Kira, rounding on him, eyes darkened. "She was desperate. That wasn’t fair."

  "I know. I know," said Benjamin. "It has been on my conscience for years. I was furious that she left me, for a male Russian dancer of all people. I felt humiliated, unwanted, abandoned, all over again. I’m sorry, Kira. I should have sent money. I didn’t realise things were so bad. I turned my back on both of you. I can never forgive myself."

  "But I forgive you, Grandfather," said Kira, putting her arms around him. "We can’t go on living like this. It doesn’t make any sense. We’ve a lot of making up to do. I’ll never leave you."

  "Not even for this man of substance? My rival in the sugar stakes?" Benjamin looked across to Giles who was leaning on a wall, his hands deep in his pockets.

  "No, not even for him. Giles and I are good friends," said Kira, somehow trying to make the words sound convincing.

  "Very good friends," said Giles dryly.

  "He smashed up his car, getting me here," said Kira. "It went into a wall."

  "The Mercedes is a right-off," Giles broke in. "Ripped tyres, smashed windscreen, crushed bonnet."

  "Thank you for that," said the old man with dignity. "But you can afford a new car."

  "Several," said Giles.

  Kira cleared a corner of the kitchen table and sat on it like a teenager. She was suddenly shy of the man who was her grandfather. He spread his hands in a gesture of conciliation. The windows were rattling, the shutters banging wildly.

  "Where do we begin, my dear?" said Benjamin. "I suppose you want to shoot me down for the way I treated your mother? I guess I deserve it."

  Kira took a deep breath. She had rehearsed this moment for years, being able to tell her grandfather exactly what she thought of him, to detail his callous treatment of her mother, to bring home to him the bitter feelings of her childhood.

  Benjamin sat waiting for the onslaught, his faded eyes patient and resigned. "Go on, my dear. I can take it. Right on the chin. Here."

  "I can’t," she whispered. "It’s all disappeared, Benjamin. I don’t feel that way any more. The hatred has completely gone and I don’t know why."

  Benjamin took a slow sip of his rum and then reached to take hold of her hand. "You belong to a very old Barbadian family, Kira. The Reeds were among the early English settlers growing tobacco and cotton and then they discovered that sugar was more profitable. The Reed cane fields stretched for miles. We built sugar mills for grinding the cane. We built Fitt’s Village for our workers. The genes are strong, my dear."

  He sighed deeply. Kira waited for him to go on. She was very aware of Giles, watching and waiting.

  "When Dolly died, I had no time or inclination to re-marry. Tamara was my joy. Everything revolved around her. I thought she would inherit everything, plantation, house, my share of the plant. Then she met this ballet dancer, a Russian, who knew nothing of sugar." Benjamin’s voice thickened. "She gave up everything for this man, never a thought for me. They travelled like gypsies over Europe. Tamara wrote when you were born, Kira. Then the letters stopped for years. I did not even know that Aaronovitch had died."

  "She was too distraught. She fell apart."

  "I understand now."

  "They were so happy," said Kira. "They were only together a short time but it was perfect. My mother often told me about those years of happiness and her face would light up and glow."

  "Like Dolly. Her face would glow." He ran his hands through his grizzled hair, making it stand on end. "Perhaps she was happy with me, some of the time. My dear, I’m tired. I can’t talk any more but I’m glad you are here. Your home is always here. Some of Tamara’s later letters I didn’t even open. I’m sorry. I have been a stup
id fool."

  Kira stood, hugging him, hugging away the years of misunderstanding. She could not hate him. He had suffered too much.

  "Will you stay with me?" he asked, hesitating. "Live here at Fitt’s House, like a proper family?"

  "I will. I’ll never leave you."

  "Thank you, my dear." Benjamin shook his head. "I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve your kindness."

  He found a stretched, out-of-shape sweatshirt from somewhere that nearly fitted Giles, but at least it was dry. Giles pulled on a waterproof sailing jacket that was hanging behind a door.

  "You’re not going out again?" said Kira, aghast.

  "I’ve some pensioners living down the road. They used to work for me. I’m going out to check on them," he said. "The storm is playing out. It’s moving eastwards. We’ve had the worst."

  "But what about us?" Kira said, catching him up at the doorway.

  He took hold of both her arms and held her at a distance. He was searching her face as if looking for a likeness to Reuben.

  "I’ve told you, Kira. There is no ‘us’, nor can there ever be. We have to learn to live without each other."

  "But what’s going to happen?" she wept.

  "You will get over this, and in a year or two you’ll meet someone new and fall in love all over again. And this will seem like some strange Caribbean dream, a little bit of magic. It won’t be so simple for me. I shan’t find anyone else and I won’t be looking. You are all I have ever wanted and there isn’t another woman in the world like you."

  "Don’t say that! I don’t want to find someone new. I only want you," Kira cried.

  "Then you will end up being alone; an old maid."

  As Giles spoke, Kira had the strangest feeling. She heard the words . . . "old maid, old maid . . ." echoing in the wind, spoken by a woman, a woman of long ago.