The Isle of Song

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The Isle of Song Page 4

by Hilary Wilde


  They were driving by a garden which ran down to the water's edge, covered with tangled masses of red and yellow flowers and oranges and fruit of every kind.

  `What will really get Simon, who is, one must admit, a very impatient man with little use for fools,' Georgia went on, 'is the Polynesian attitude called fiu. It means "I'm fed up" or "I'm tired of doing this." When a Polynesian feels that way, he just packs up and vanishes, even if the job is half done. Even Simon's Great-Aunt Adele had to learn to accept this. I wonder if Simon will .

  `You said you knew his aunt ?'

  met her often, but never really knew her. She never left the island, but she used to give wonderful parties — all strictly protocol and proper, of course, but they were great fun. I hope Simon will do the same when he gets settled in.'

  `You've known Simon a long time ?' Kate asked.

  They had come to the end of the road. Now the

  mountains towering above them ran down straight into

  the water, and Georgia turned the car, driving them

  back towards the hotel.

  `Only since he came out in December. His great-aunt died at the age of ninety and was still as strong as an ox. We were surprised when she died, for she seemed eternal, like the Pacific. Simon came out and we had that dreadful cyclone . . .' She shivered. 'We escaped it here, but his island got it badly.'

  They were nearly back at the hotel when Georgia asked abruptly, 'Have you known Simon long ?'

  Just over two weeks,' Kate said.

  Georgia turned her head, looking startled. 'I got the feeling you were old friends. He was very concerned about you.'

  `He was ?' Kate asked, her voice disbelieving but her cheeks suddenly hot. 'Only because it upset his carefully planned schedule — my being ill, I mean,' she went on. 'No, I hardly know him at all. Why, I've only seen him . ..' She thought for a moment and then smiled at Georgia. 'Three times,' she said. Was that all? How was it that after three meetings, she felt she knew so much about Simon ? His impatience, his ruthlessness, his amusement at her discomfiture ?

  `The first time I met him was when we went to see him about Jerome's job. Simon wanted to see me about it. Then . . . then I was ill in Los Angeles . . . and that day here when they left for the island. Three times.'

  `How did your stepfather get the job ?' Georgia asked, carefully parking the car alongside some of the other huge luxurious-looking American cars before the hotel.

  `Simon heard of him as an architect and liked his views, so Jerome took me to see him.'

  Georgia was getting out of the car gracefully despite her tight green skirt. 'So Simon didn't actually engage Jerome until he'd met you ?'

  `No, but . . .' Kate began.

  Georgia wasn't listening. She was looking at her watch.

  `I'm going to have a quick shower. What say we meet for a drink before dinner ? See you ?'

  `Yes,' Kate said, going up to her bedroom at once.

  She stood for a long time on her balcony. There was a wide sweeping view of the harbour and the wild Pacific Ocean beyond with its huge rollers racing in.

  Had she only seen Simon three times ? Kate thought. The railing of the balcony was hot under her hands, the sun beating down on her. The sweet sickly scent of the island drifted towards her, faintly she heard music and laughter.

  Georgia was right. The island had a fascination. Everything was so different. What was the word her mother used to say wistfully? Gracious. That was it —a gracious way of living. Surely this was the most gracious way of all? A perfect climate, great beauty, delightful scents and laughter and happiness. Surely they would find happiness here, all of them ?

  The hotel was obviously an expensive one, and as Kate went to meet Georgia for drinks she thought worriedly of what this must be costing. Simon would probably insist on paying for it, but was that really fair? She hated the thought of being under an obligation to him — yet could Jerome afford to pay for it ? Could she ?

  Everywhere she looked there were elegantly-dressed

  women laughing and talking to good-looking Polynesians or plum well-to-do American men. There was a feeling of gaiety, of money, of holidays.

  Would they still feel the same happiness here if they had to work for their livings ? Would she and Nancy be happy on the island, working for Simon ? He would be a hard and demanding taskmaster.

  Georgia waved to her, and Kate crossed the beautifully-furnished lounge to join Georgia on the patio, overlooking the blue Pacific.

  `D'you like Simon, Kate ?' Georgia asked abruptly after the white-clad waiter had served them.

  Kate was startled. Her hair fell forward over her face and she tossed it back with a quick movement of her head, so that she could see Georgia's face.

  `Like him ?' Kate stalled for time.

  Georgia was smiling. 'Yes, like. I didn't say love !'

  Kate felt her cheeks hot. She smoothed down the soft green silk of her frock to avoid looking into Georgia's frankly curious eyes.

  `You want the whole truth ?' Kate asked lightly.

  Georgia chuckled. 'Yes, and nothing but the truth, but not if it'll embarrass you. I guess it wasn't a tactful question.'

  `It doesn't embarrass me,' Kate said. 'It's just that .... well, to be honest, Georgia, I don't like him.'

  Georgia looked startled. The diamonds round her neck sparkled, her beautifully groomed hair shone. `You don't like him ?' she repeated slowly.

  `No. Maybe I shouldn't say this, Georgia, for he's been most kind to us, but I always have a feeling he

  finds me childish, naïve and not a very nice person. He seems to treat me . . . to . .' She sought for the right words. 'I feel he's patronizing me.'

  Georgia looked puzzled. But why should he ?'

  Kate shrugged. 'I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong —maybe I started off on the wrong foot with him. He thinks . . . he thinks I bully my family and that I'm selfish and . . .' She stopped speaking, for Georgia was frankly amazed.

  `You're out of your mind, Kate. I'm sure he doesn't think that of you.'

  Kate shrugged again. 'Maybe I am, but that's the way he makes me feel. As if I'm .

  `Poison ivy ?' Georgia suggested with a smile.

  Kate laughed. 'Exactly. I never appear at my best with him. Each time we've met I've either been terribly tired, or ill.'

  Georgia stopped laughing. 'Maybe he'll be different on the island, Kate. After all, you can't be tired or ill all the time, can you ? Or can you ?' she asked with a burst of laughter.

  When they stopped laughing, Georgia spoke more seriously. 'Frankly, Kate, I've an idea Simon is anti-female. Have you the same ?'

  Kate nodded. 'He told me he thought that romantic love was commercialized and greatly overrated and caused more misery than anything else. He told me he steered clear of it.'

  Georgia leaned forward, her face interested. 'He told you that, and you've only seen him three times ? How did you get on the subject ?'

  `He wanted to know if Nancy and I were engaged,

  and I said we weren't, and then he talked about love.'

  `H'm. I don't mind saying that when he came here quite a few female hearts fluttered, Kate, but they got nowhere with Simon. He can be charming, but oh, boy, can he give them a neat brush-off !' Georgia chuckled. 'But even the wariest of men has an Achilles heel. I wonder where Simon's is? There are some beauties on his island. Caterina ... that's odd, Kate. Her name is like yours. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and elegant and intelligent into the bargain. I guess Simon will meet his match there. By the way, Kate, I've made an appointment for you tomorrow at the beauty parlour.'

  Kate's hand flew to her hair. 'I shampooed it,' she said.

  Georgia nodded. 'I know, but being off-colour has made your hair dank and lifeless. You're getting the full works tomorrow — and Kate ...' She paused for a moment and gave a singularly sweet smile. 'Do me a favour, Kate, and be my guest. It's not often I meet a girl like you.'

  `Why, Georgia,' Kate was e
mbarrassed, 'it is good of you. I've never had my hair done properly or . .

  Georgia laughed. 'There always has to be a first time!'

  The next day as Kate left the beauty parlour, she stared in the mirror in amazement. How right Georgia was. She had needed the treatment. Now her hair swung gently, its blondeness highlighted. They had curled the ends of her hair slightly and it made it look much silkier. Her skin looked brighter. She felt — different.

  There was still so much for Georgia to show her on the island — the great beaches, some golden, some white, others the black powder of old lava. She watched the elegantly-clad tourists as they sunbathed or swam in the elaborate pools, the children of the Polynesians splashing like young porpoises in the country lagoons. Everywhere she heard soft music and laughter and met smiling faces, and she loved the way small children ran to greet them when they got out of the car at any place.

  In the evenings, Georgia took her to the different night clubs that had sprung into being in the recent years; introduced Kate to many people, but always saw that she went to bed early.

  `You certainly look a new girl,' Georgia said proudly as they sat in the hotel waiting on the final day for Simon to arrive.

  `Thanks to you,' Kate said warmly.

  Trying to relax, to ignore the tenseness that filled her, Kate realized that for the whole of the week she had stopped worrying about Mike and Nancy. For a moment, she felt conscience-stricken. How could she have forgotten them? Her old anxiety rushed back to her — had Mike been able to eat the local food? Was the water good or should it be boiled ? Had he remembered to sleep under the mosquito netting? He had a horror of being enclosed — suppose he got badly bitten by mosquitoes . ?

  `I'm going to miss you, Kate,' Georgia said, her voice wistful.

  Kate looked at the well-dressed woman with the friendly eyes. 'I'll miss you, too,' she said honestly. 'I can never thank you enough. You've given me a wonder-

  ful week.'

  `My pleasure,' Georgia said warmly. 'Maybe you can talk Simon into inviting me to the island one day ?'

  `I'm sure he would,' Kate said. 'I'd love the family to meet you. Nancy's so pretty . . . you saw her, didn't you, though ? I forgot.'

  `Just for a few moments. I wouldn't call Nancy pretty, Kate. She's cute — with that air of wide-eyed innocence and her youth and gaiety — but she's nothing like as pretty as you.'

  `Me ?' Kate was really surprised.

  Georgia nodded. 'You have a lovely face, Kate. There's an air of serenity about you and your eyes are beautiful. Don't ever get an inferiority complex about your looks. You can hold your own with any woman.'

  Kate went on staring at her. 'You're not serious ?'

  Georgia nodded. 'I most certainly am not kidding, Kate. Look, remember one thing. You're a pretty girl and you're intelligent. Don't let any man make you feel just a dumb bunny.'

  Kate began to smile. 'You mean like . .

  `Simon ? Exactly.' Georgia looked complacent and turned her head, her face changing. 'Talk of the devil and here he is. The one and only Simon.' There was sarcasm and also affection in her voice as she spoke.

  Kate caught her breath and felt her newly-won confidence fast disappearing. The tall lean man in a white tropical suit came striding impatiently across the lounge, towering above the other people, seeming to slash a pathway through the crowd.

  `Georgia, you've certainly done a good job !' he

  began as he turned to look enquiringly at Kate. She coloured under his keen scrutiny and wondered at the surprised look on his face. 'You certainly look different.'

  `I'm myself again,' Kate said.

  I'm very glad to hear it.' He turned back to Georgia. 'What did the doctor say? Okay for her to travel ?' He spoke as if Kate was not there, or as he might have spoken about some child too young to answer for herself.

  `He said I'm fine,' Kate began, but Simon ignored her, asking Georgia where Kate's luggage was and saying that he wanted to get away at once.

  `I want us to get going before the wind changes, for I don't want this girl to be sick again,' he said, his voice almost curt.

  `I'll send the luggage down to the Quay,' Georgia told him. 'It'll be there as soon as you are. I'll say goodbye now, Kate my dear.' She kissed Kate warmly and patted her on the arm.

  `Take care of yourself, my dear, and I guess I'll see you again one day. By the way, remember what I said and never forget it. 'Bye, Simon. Be seeing you . . she said, and was off across the lounge, moving briskly and gracefully in her amber-coloured suit.

  Simon was gazing at Kate curiously. 'What is it you mustn't forget ?'

  Her cheeks were hot. How could she tell him the nice things Georgia had said about her looks? 'I forget,' she muttered.

  `Already ? Not a very good memory, I'm afraid,' he said dryly. 'We'd better get cracking. We can walk

  down. It's quite close.'

  The heat hit Kate as they left the shelter of the hotel. She wished she had worn flatties rather than the elegant high-heeled shoes. She tried to keep up with Simon's long stride. The sun blazed in her eyes and she was soon breathless. Simon strode ahead, completely oblivious of her, and suddenly Kate tripped. She nearly fell headlong, saving herself in time by clutching at the first thing that was handy. It happened to be a man's arm.

  A man whose eyes were like sockets in his unhappy face, and with thinning dark hair. A man who cried out with surprise and angry dismay and turned to look at Kate as she regained her balance.

  `I'm sorry,' Kate gasped. 'I nearly fell . .

  `So did I,' he said sourly. 'You nearly knocked me over.

  `Something wrong ?' Simon asked. He must have heard their voices and turned back. He was frowning.

  `N-nothing,' Kate said. 'I stumbled and nearly fell and almost...'

  `Knocked me over,' the unfriendly man said.

  Simon was staring at Kate. 'You're breathless,' he said accusingly.

  Stung into a retort, Kate said : 'You walk too fast.' `I'm in a hurry,' he told her. 'As you know.'

  Before she knew what was happening, he had scooped her up in his arms and was carrying her down the small pier.

  'Simon... please,' Kate said quickly.

  `It's easier and quicker this way,' he said curtly. Kate lay still, conscious of the curious eyes of people

  they passed, the smiles they exchanged as they saw the tall handsome man carrying a girl in his arms. The pier was crowded with people, but Simon strode along, and almost miraculously a pathway opened before him.

  When they reached the end of the pier and she saw the boat, which was smaller than she expected, Kate's heart sank, but she said nothing.

  As it happened her fears were groundless, for the three-hour trip was perfect. They sat on deck and drank coffee and hardly talked, but Kate did not mind as she watched the incredibly blue translucent sea and looked at the islands with their towering jagged mountains, their vivid green trees, glimpses of pastel-shaded houses. It was all so beautiful. She thought again with a sense of shame how little she had worried about the family during the past week. She had been completely selfish and had lived in a world by herself.

  `How's Mike ?' she asked suddenly.

  Simon turned to look at her. 'Fine. Shouldn't he be ?'

  Kate coloured. 'Of course, but . . .' She was startled by Simon's aggressive tone.

  `You didn't expect him to be all right? Because you weren't there ?'

  `Of course I expected him to be all right, but ...' `There was always the chance, of course.'

  Kate bit her lip. Why must Simon be so difficult? She drew a long deep breath, praying for patience and the right words. 'Georgia told me that sometimes when you first go to tropical lands, you suffer from ... from ...'

  `Dysentery ? Malaria — cicphantiasis ? Take your choice,' Simon said airily, lighting himself a cigarette. 'True, you can, if you're stupid. I'm not, so we don't. Our water is perfect, our food well cooked and in clean dishes, and we sleep under mosquito nets. Mike is fi
ne. He's put on weight and got some colour in his pale cheeks. Nancy is having the time of her life, and as for your father, I mean stepfather, well, he's in paradise.'

  `I'm glad,' Kate said.

  Simon looked at her, his thick bushy eyebrows lifted. `Are you ?'

  `Of course I am. Why shouldn't I be ?'

  `I just wondered,' he said, flicking the ash off his cigarette and looking away from her as he did so. 'After all,' he said slowly, 'you weren't there.'

  There was a long silence as she tried to puzzle out what he meant. When she thought she understood, the quick anger mounted inside her. Was he implying that she believed the family were only well and happy if she was there to make them so ? If he thought she believed that, then — then what sort of person must he think her ?

  `Simon ... she began.

  He was not listening. He was walking across the deck to the railing. Behind them went on the usual noises of a small boat at sea — the shouts, the sudden ring of a bell, the laughter...

  There was a faint smudge on the horizon.

  `There's the island, Kate,' said Simon, and there was a new tense but happy sound in his voice. 'See it ?'

  She went to stand by his side and watched as the smudge grew larger and larger and she could see more

  clearly. There were twin peaks, one at either end, that seemed to shoot up towards the blue sky as if trying to outgrow one another.

  `Mona Popaa, they call the island,' Simon said, his voice thoughtful. 'It has another name, but this means the Wise White Man. It was named after my great-aunt.'

  `She lived here a long time?' Kate asked, watching the way his face had changed, become almost gentle as he gazed at the island they were approaching.

 

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