Violet Winspear - Sinner ...

by Неизвестный

  It broke Merlin’s heart in pieces that she could only give him comfort when he came to her and silently took it. That he needed her was something to cherish, and that the bitter violence had gone out of him was something to rejoice in.

  In order to try and close her mind to Paul out there in the forest that was so menacing at night, Merlin played to herself a soft and sentimental song from far-off days ... Dream, when you’re feeling blue. Dream and it might come true. ..

  Chords crashed and she leapt to her feet, feeling the jump of her heart as if her baby moved. Snatching at the full skirt of her jade-green dress in softest shantung with wide elbow sleeves edged in creamy lace, she went out into the garden. Tonight the moon was full again and when she reached the compound each tree seemed to stand in a pool of silver and she could see the enormous moon-moths flying about, their wings faintly green and iridescent. The air was laden with the scent of tea-bushes, and the laan into the forest was hung with pale bellflower, rose of Sharon, mauve hibiscus that in the moonlight looked like dark velvet. She walked beneath the curving branches of the banyans, the spirit trees, her arms brushed by golden-bird orchids in big fragrant sprays. Clusters of living stars cascaded down huge tree trunks, elephant-ear leaves waved against her as she passed, and the path itself was silver striped by the moon slanting down through the treetops.

  She wanted to be with Paul... it terrified her, the mood of pained regret that had made him walk out into the night as if he didn’t care what became of him. She cared, with a passion that burned blindingly in her eyes so she had walked into a thorn bush before she could stop herself, feeling the silk of her dress catch on the jungle barbs. They held on to her dress and ripped it as she tried to struggle free, wincing as the barbs scratched her hands. All around her brooded the iron trees with scarlet flowers, the yellow champac and the raintrees with long green tresses hanging down into the deep lakes of fern. Huge liana stems gave off an earthy scent and Merlin felt the menace of the night and the strange noises seething in secret places, and the silk of her dress gave rippingly all down the side of her leg as she forced herself away from the nail bush.

  She stood there a moment, feeling the thud of her heart, and wished now that she hadn’t obeyed her impulse to try and follow Paul. Though blind he knew his way better than she did along this laan that led to the ham-pong, and she stood hesitant and decided that she had better turn and go back to the house.

  It was then that the nightmare began ... then that she caught the sound of someone crashing through the dense foliage at one side of the laan ... that someone came out on the path ahead of her and a shafting beam of moonlight fell upon the dark, panting figure. Merlin stood petrified as the moon struck the blade of the parang in the man’s hand ... he was holding it aloft and his eyes were crazed in his dark face, and then he started towards her and she knew he was going to cut her down with that deadly blade that could slice thiough the thick sugar-canes with such ease.

  A native gone amok, and there seemed no escape as he sprang at her and she heard the scream rip from her lips ... and in that same instant felt the strong thrust of a hand that sent her spinning to one side as the deadly parang came slicing down into a white-clad arm.

  Paul ... taking her place in the path of the madman and suffering the slash of the blade on his upraised arm.

  How it happened, how it could be, was all part of the nightmare until Merlin caught the sound of voices and people rushing upon the scene and someone crying out that mem had been right there and the parang would have crashed into her skull. Now the cutting knife was on the ground and the villagers had the madman struggling in a hunting net, and in her torn skirt Merlin ran to Paul, who stood rocking on his feet, clutching his arm, the blood gushing on to the white material of his dinner-jacket. Lon was there and it was he who had warned Paul that of a villager was running amok with a parang ... they had found her gone from the house and had come to find her.

  Her scream had triggered Paul’s swift reaction, and she was ashen-faced but firmly in control of herself as she and Lon helped Paul along the laan to the house. Once there they had to act with speed to stem that awful flow of blood, and with every atom of remembered nursing skill Merlin applied pressure binding to that dreadful slash in her husband’s arm.

  ‘Meisje?’ he murmured. ‘You are all right, ja?

  ‘I’m fine, my dear.’ She stroked the moist hair from his brow and knew from the drawn lines of his shadowed mouth that he was in great pain. She returned to Lon and quietly asked him if it was possible that there was any morphine on the island. There was a dispensary down in the kampong and Lon ran off like a young stag to see what he could find to relieve some of the shock and pain for Paul. Merlin knew the injury was a grave one, and when Hendrik came hurrying in, roused from sleep and wearing his robe over bare legs, Merlin told him that Paul would have to be taken to the mainland at once for hospital treatment.

  Hendrik stared at his cousin, and then turned to pour himself a stiff brandy. ‘My God,’ he said. ‘That arm—how it’s bled!’

  Paul’s shirt was scarlet, and his coat on the floor was sticky with blood. Merlin swayed a little and then took a firm grip on herself. She didn’t dare buckle under, for it was obvious that Hendrik wasn’t a stout rudder in a storm and she was going to need every nerve in her body, every bit of grit in her to help Paul... her Paul, who had saved her life out there on the path, stepping in her place and accepting that fearful blade through his flesh and bone.

  There was no morphine available, much to her distress, but Lon brought something from one of the temple priests that he said would ease the worst of the pain. It was a whitish liquid in a small gourd, obviously a drug of some sort prepared from wild poppy or mandragora root, but Merlin didn’t hesitate to pour a measure of it into a glass and give it to Paul. After only a few seconds it made him drowsy and the tension in his face began to relax. ‘Opium,’ he murmured, and his lips quirked. ‘Thanks to heaven you don’t lose your head—you have realised that I am almost amputated?’

  ‘No!’ She put her hand over his lips. ‘Lon is preparing the helicopter and he’s going to land it in the compound —yes, I know it’s dangerous, but he wants to do it. He loves you.’ She swallowed the scalding lump in her throat and hung on tightly to her control. ‘All of us do— we’re going to fly you straight to hospital and I won’t let you lose your precious arm. I won’t, Paul, I promise you!’

  His face against the cushions of the couch was a mask of shadows, and then the lids of his eyes closed in several hard blinks, as if he were fighting with tears. Merlin leaned forward and kissed his face. ‘You’re so brave, my dear. Be brave a little longer. ..’

  His eyelids lifted and again he blinked, as if the opium was making him feel dizzy. ‘Angel face,’ he said, and his head fell sideways on the cushion, and his eyes closed heavily ... deliriously.

  He was sleeping a little and Merlin was thankful for it. She accepted a glass of hot milk and brandy from one of the boys, and another brought her a cloak from her wardrobe; the huge blue one embroidered with a peacock on the shoulders, which Paul had had made for her down in the kampong. It was somehow incongruous for this desperate flight to the mainland, and yet also in a strange way it was appropriate ... the wings of the bird stretched out with her feelings, as if she would carry Paul in her very arms.

  Hendrik was leaning forward in his chair, staring at the floor. ‘You love him like hell, don’t you?’ he muttered. ‘That girl of mine, Sarinha, she thinks you’re having a kid. Is it true?’

  Merlin hesitated, then inclined her head.

  ‘What do you think he’ll do about it when you tell him? I bet you haven’t told him, eh?’

  ‘I—I was waiting for the right moment, as most women do,’ she said defensively.

  ‘I lied to him about you.’ Hendrik said suddenly. ‘I was green with envy when I got here and saw the girl he’d got for himself, even though he couldn’t see one little bit of you. One evening in his den he a
sked me to describe you to him, and as I had the impression that he took you for that other nurse involved in his case, I described her to him just as I’d seen her in a newspaper picture—pretty, I said, but a trifle on the common side; the sort who would be out to grab a well-off surgeon for herself. Paul then pointed out that he was blind and no longer much of a catch. I said that was nonsense. He was still Paul van Setan and his reputation as a surgeon wasn’t impaired. He was still a good catch for a girl who wanted to get on socially—anyway, to cut a long story short, I had him believing you were a little climber with a meretricious sort of attraction, and I could tell he didn’t like it.’

  Hendrik frowned and studied his sleeping cousin, his arm bound and held in a shoulder sling, gold hair darkened with sweat, the stains of blood all over his shirt. Hendrik swallowed audibly. ‘I’ve always envied him, do you know that? He was the one with the brains and the brilliance, and even when it came to getting a girl, he got you. It said in the newspaper that a girl named Jane Bridges had been found responsible for the damage to Paul’s eyes—were you Jane Bridges?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘In those days. Bridges was my stepfather’s name and I used it to please my mother. Jane is my second name and I thought it more suitable for me than Merlin.’

  ‘More suitable?’ Hendrik took her up. ‘You don’t imagine you are a plain Jane, do you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sweeter face than yours in all my life—to hell with it, will Paul be all right?’

  ‘He has to be, if there’s any justice.’ Her face twisted with pain and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Things might have worked for Paul and me, if you hadn’t lied to him. I hope you pay for that!’

  ‘I shall,’ Hendrik growled. ‘All my life I shall never be fortunate enough to meet someone like you—you truly are a splendid girl, Merlin. Even the way he is, Paul has the best of it—he has you, and a baby to go with you. He’s had quite a bit of heaven when you come to think of it!’

  They heard the chugging of the helicopter coming up from the beach to the compound, and Merlin felt her nerves tighten. Lon was risking his life landing in moonlight in a somewhat restricted area, but they couldn’t take Paul down those rock stairs to the beach, weakened by loss of blood already, with his system deeply shocked.

  ‘Tell me,’ Hendrik had risen and now he stood over her, his eyes probing her anxious face, ‘were you responsible for making Paul blind?’

  She shook her head. ‘Can’t you guess who was?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘The other one, eh? And Paul knew this?’

  ‘He suspected it.’

  ‘And I let him believe that’s who you are?’

  ‘Yes, Hendrik.’

  ‘God, you must want to see me dead at his feet!’

  ‘It would give me a certain satisfaction,’ she agreed. ‘But cruel people are their own worst enemies. They have to live inside themselves with what they are. It’s the kind of company I wouldn’t want.’

  Hendrik drew a ragged breath, then went to the cabinet for another drink. Merlin no longer bothered with him, but leaned over Paul and carefully checked his pulsebeat. It was jumpy and his skin was cool under the moisture, extra cold about his lips. She wiped his face, and listened as the helicopter came in lower and lower, holding her breath until it had settled without mishap on the hard surface of the compound. Thank God! A landing was always more hazardous than a lift off, and they could now hope for a speedy flight to the mainland, which Lon would already have radioed to have standing by an ambulance and a doctor.

  Carefully, so very lovingly and carefully was Paul handed into the helicopter and a blanket rucked around him, his head at rest on Merlin’s shoulder. His breathing was shallow and she didn’t dare to contemplate just how much shock he had suffered, nor how much damage had been done to his arm. She hoped for a miracle ... prayed there would be someone skilful enough at the mainland hospital to save his arm.

  Dear God, he had lost enough for one life!

  But for Paul she would have had her head crushed in. He had saved her life, this man who swore he hated her!

  They chugged through the moonlit sky, above the glimmering ocean, and though Paul stirred out of his lethargy once or twice, for most of the journey he slept with his head against Merlin.

  ‘How is the tuan?’ Lon asked, as they came in over the glittering lights of the harbour and he made for the airfield where all those months ago Merlin had stood and longed with apprehension to see Paul... whom she hadn’t dreamed she would end by marrying.

  ‘He’s in shock,’ she replied. ‘The opium has helped the pain, but he’s lost such a lot of blood.’

  ‘The ambulance will be waiting,’ he assured her. ‘The doctors are good ones—they will do their best for him. Mem, a tiger doesn’t die so very easily.’

  ‘My dearest Sang Harimau,’ she murmured. ‘If he dies, then I think I shall—I have that container of opium in my bag. There’s enough!’

  ‘You have a baby in your body,’ Lon said sternly. ‘The tuan’s baby, who deserves to live. When we land you will give back the opium to me, or I shall tell the authorities you have it.’

  ‘You wouldn’t.’ She gave Lon a pained look.

  ‘The tuan got cut down for you, mem, and you will have his baby if I have to lock you in a room and keep guard on you.’

  ‘Lon!’

  ‘Be one fine baby,’ Lon smiled faintly, with an affectionate glance at Paul. ‘Real tiger cub, if a boy. Did you think you could keep that from the island people, eh?’

  ‘Not really—has the tuan—has he mentioned the baby to you, Lon?’

  Lon shook his head. ‘Why do you try to keep it a secret?’

  ‘Because he—he doesn’t care for me,’ she said huskily. ‘You know as well as I that love doesn’t always make babies.’

  ‘Love made yours, mem. You loved that man the day I met you fly this very airfield, and I never believed you ever hurt him.’

  ‘You seem to know a lot of things, Lon.’

  He gave her a faintly wicked wink, and then concentrated on landing the scarlet and white bubble that had flown her to a strange heaven, and was now bringing her to face despair or a possible miracle. As the rotors ceased to spin, they heard the ambulance wailing up the airstrip, and at that moment Paul stirred against Merlin and opened his eyes. He seemed to look right up at her, long and silently. ‘How do you feel, my dear?’ she asked softly. ‘Are you in pain?’

  ‘It’s bearable,’ he said, and his eyes went on staring at her. Lon slid open the doors of the helicopter and the ambulance halted only a few yards away. They took charge, these other people who would now help Paul, and Merlin stood on the airfield, shivering intermittently with nervous fears as Paul was carried from the helicopter into the ambulance. She clutched the big cloak around her and lifted her face to that great ivory moon and wondered if she would ever see it shining again over Pulau-Indah.

  ‘Madame van Setan,’ it was the doctor calling to her, ‘your husband requests that you come with us to the hospital.’

  ‘I’m coming,’ she made quickly for the open doors and was assisted inside. Only then did she realise that Lon had quietly removed her bag from her hand ... there was to be no easy escape from the trauma that awaited her. Paul was desperately hurt and he might not fight to live if he knew he was going to lose his arm as well as his sight. He had her... but did he love her enough to live for her?

  The ambulance siren started up again and Merlin felt Paul’s baby move inside her as they sped off into the night, making swiftly for the hospital. Merlin informed the Indonesian doctor that her husband had been given opium for the pain, and he merely quirked an eyebrow and seemed quite unshocked. ‘It will do no harm,’ he said. ‘This once!’

  Merlin had prayed for a miracle, but in the early hours of the next morning it seemed there wasn’t going to be one. There was no saving Paul’s arm below the elbow; he had known himself that it was almost cut through by that mad blow from the parang. Merlin gave a st
ricken cry and covered her face when they told her ... and then the surgeon who had worked on Paul sat down beside her and took her hands down from her ashen face.

  ‘Madame van Setan, would you like me tell you what your good husband has in place of that lost arm?’ He quietly smiled at her. ‘It’s a most amazing thing, and we have been in touch with the ophthalmic people in England who were in charge of him at the time of the accident to his eyes ... were you aware that there was no drastic damage to the eyes themselves; that his blindness was caused entirely by a shock reaction so bad that the optic nerves literally curled up and refused to function? Do you understand what I am saying, madame? Your husband is no longer blind. What he suffered last night acted as a traumatic release for him and he started to see again —not clearly, for that will take time—but he could make out the lights in the operating room, and he told me that he had seen your face for blurred moments in the ambulance coming here.

  ‘Madame,’ the surgeon reached out and took firm hold of Merlin’s trembling hands, ‘you must believe what I am telling you and not look at me in that terribly stunned way. Mynheer van Setan is regaining his sight again, and each day it will become a little clearer ... he has lost most of his left arm, but he has what is far more precious to all of us, he can see again.’