The Isle of Song

by Hilary Wilde

  `She's a widow, but won't be for long, I guess,' Adam said quietly in Kate's ear. 'And she's a darling into the bargain. Kind, tolerant and incredibly intelligent. Even Simon can't get the better of her. They're always crossing rapiers, and she frequently wins.'

  A gong sounded just as Jerome and Mike hurriedly arrived, Mike going straight to Caterina's side. Kate saw the softened look on Caterina's face as she spoke to the boy. Kate had a feeling that she and Caterina were going to become friends.

  This thought continued all through the beautifully cooked and perfectly served dinner, for Simon had put her next to Caterina, who at first devoted herself to talking to Kate. Caterina was easy to talk to, and when the conversation at the table flagged, she tossed the conversational ball back and forth, to Nancy, Ian, Jerome, even to Mike, and to Adam as well so that soon she had them all talking and laughing together.

  After dinner, Mike went off to bed with Jerome by his side. Nancy and Ian went to play table tennis, Adam excused himself, for he was studying, he said, and Kate found herself left with Simon and Caterina.

  Kate was not sure when she first had a premonition that she was playing gooseberry. Caterina included her in the conversation, gave no sign that she wanted to be alone with Simon. Simon was the same, and yet Kate had the feeling that both Simon and Caterina were waiting — maybe counting the moments — until they could be alone.

  Kate remembered what Georgia had said, that

  every man had his Achilles' heel, and Georgia had said that she didn't think Simon would be a bachelor for long. She must have been thinking of Caterina. So beautiful and so absolutely perfect for Simon. Brave enough to argue with him, intelligent enough to outwit him and lovely to look at. The kind of wife any man could be proud of...

  Kate looked quickly at Simon, at his lean stern face that was now alight with laughter as he spoke to Caterina. It gave her a glimpse of a different Simon, a relaxed happy Simon who was not bothering to be sarcastic or dryly amused. Maybe, Kate thought, she annoyed Simon as much as he irritated her. It was a strange thought. And not a very pleasing one.

  She stood up suddenly. 'If you won't think me rude,' she said to Caterina, 'I think I'll go to bed. I feel most absurdly sleepy, yet I dozed all the afternoon.'

  Caterina smiled at her. The island has that effect on everyone at first. You'll soon get adjusted to it, Kate. Simon is right. Do nothing for a week and you'll be surprised how well you feel. How about coming over to the hospital tomorrow morning about eleven and having tea with me ?'

  `Thank you,' Kate said. `I'd like that.'

  Simon was on his feet as if trying to hurry her away. `I'll arrange for the car to take you.'

  Kate had got halfway up the stairs when she remembered she had forgotten to ask what time breakfast was. She had no idea where to find Nancy or she could have asked her. Kate turned and ran down the stairs again, her feet silent on the carpet of the hall. The drawing-room door was ajar and Caterina's husky

  voice halted her.

  `I think Kate has a lovely face, Simon. So dedicated for a young girl.'

  `She's dedicated all right,' Simon said, his voice dry. `One of those happy martyrs. She was sixteen when her mother died and she took over the management of the family and made them toe the line ...'

  Kate stifled a little shocked cry of pain and turned, running up the stairs and to her bedroom, closing the door, leaning against it. Foolish, stupid tears stung her eyes. Why did it hurt so much? So that was what he still thought of her! A bossy girl, bullying her family and enjoying it? Was that why he was always so sarcastic, why he seemed to delight in making her look a fool ?

  She brushed the tears from her face as she heard a gentle knock at the door. It was Jerome, his face concerned.

  `And how's my Kate ?' he asked, giving her a big hug. 'We missed you, Kate. Missed you very much.'

  Suddenly she was clinging to him, crying against his shoulder, hearing his puzzled worried voice as he tried to comfort and soothe her.

  `There's nothing to cry about, Kate, my dear. Everything's working out fine. Just fine.'

  Kate managed to dry her eyes and even smile as she apologized to him.

  `This wretched illness has made me so stupidly weak, Jerome. I'm sorry ...'

  He smiled at her. 'I know, dear. Caterina and I were talking about you the other day. You took a heavy burden on your shoulders and did a fine job,

  too. Now you can relax, Kate. This is a very pleasant way of living. We have no financial worries, either. You'll see, Kate. I know everything seems strange to you just now, but . . . you'll see,' he repeated anxiously, as if trying to convince himself 'Everything's just fine. Now, Kate, I came to look for you. Mike says what about coming to say goodnight ?'

  Kate dabbed her eyes with her hands and managed to smile. 'I'm terribly sorry, Jerome. I guess I'm still a bit weak, and . .

  Jerome's face was worried. 'Maybe we shouldn't have come out here, and . .

  Kate caught his arm impulsively. 'Oh, it's not that, Jerome. I think we did the best thing. It's a wonderful chance for us all. I'll be all right. It's just that — that the week has made such a difference. I feel out of things, a stranger.'

  `My dear Kate,' he said, giving her a bear hug affectionately. 'A stranger ? Don't talk nonsense. Now run along or Mike will be asleep. The air here makes one sleepy. You're having an early night ?'

  `I thought so,' Kate said as she opened the door.

  `Good idea. See you tomorrow, Kate,' Jerome said.

  Kate hurried down the passage to the big lofty room Mike shared with his father. Mike was lying on his back, hands folded under his head. He grinned at her.

  `Hi,' Kate said as she pulled up a chair. 'I just

  dropped by to say goodnight. How're things, Mike ?'

  `Fab, just fab,' he said with a grin. He sat up. 'Kate,

  what d'you think? Mr. Anatole — that's our teacher —

  says I've got brains, but I ought to use 'em more. He's not bad.'

  `And the other children ?' Kate asked a little anxiously, remembering past incidents when Mike had come home from school with a black eye or bruised face, struggling with the tears he was ashamed to shed. He had always been a frail, rather gentle boy, hating fights and trying to hide his fear.

  Mike grinned. 'They're great, Kate, just great. Mr. Anatole wants to meet you.' He gave a terrific yawn. `Gosh, Kate, isn't it great here ? This is the bestest, the very bestest. I went swimming with Simon the other day, and it was so warm and the fish are all colours and the most weird shapes. ..' He gave another terrific yawn.

  Kate stood up, bent and kissed him, tucking the white mosquito netting round him carefully. "Night, darling,' she said softly.

  Back in her own room she went to the window and looked at the dark night with the stars twinkling in the sky. A thin crescent moon shone. There were strange noises in the night and the gentle rustle of the palm trees moving in the breeze.

  Everything would be all right, Jerome had said. Everything was all right — for Jerome, Nancy and Mike. She was the odd one out.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  KATE opened her eyes and blinked lazily as she saw the pretty Polynesian maid standing by the side of the bed, the breakfast tray in her hand.

  Kate caught her breath. She must have overslept ! What a chance for Simon to be sarcastic, she thought. She sat up hastily, brushing her hair out of her eyes and smiling apologetically at the Polynesian girl, whose long black hair looked so strange under the small frilled white cap, and on whose slender lithe body the old-fashioned uniform of an English parlour-maid seemed out of place.

  `You shouldn't have bothered ...' Kate began.

  The girl gave a little bob. 'I am Tehutu,' she said. Her voice was slightly sing-song and pretty. 'My mission is to care for you.' She gave another little bob, went to the windows and drew back the curtains, turned to give Kate a searching but friendly look and then vanished.

  Kate was surprised at the way she enjoyed her breakfast.
Like all the meals she had had in the big house, it was delicious — exotic fruit and cereal, a boiled egg and then a gloriously crusty roll and butter. The coffee was very hot and strong. After Kate had slid the tray on to the bedside table, she relaxed for a moment in the bed. How she had slept, she thought, giving a relaxed yawn. She looked round the beautiful room and thought how very different it all looked from her small

  room in Ealing — how utterly different this new life would be.

  And then she thought of Simon. She was out of bed instantly. Never had she showered and dressed so swiftly in her life. It was bad enough to have overslept and missed breakfast, but she must not give him the chance to accuse her of being lazy, she thought, remembering painfully the words she had heard the night before.

  As she leant close to the glass to make up her face, she thought of the casual yet sophisticated elegance of Caterina. So very lovely and charming, with that husky voice and friendly smile. How nicely she had talked to Mike, never treating him as a child and something of a nuisance. No wonder Simon ...

  Kate took a long deep breath.

  Simon!

  Would she ever forget the note in his voice as he had said to Caterina, 'Kate is one of those happy martyrs'? she wondered.

  What else was it that he had said? Kate asked herself.

  Oh, yes! He had said : 'She was sixteen when her mother died, she took over the management of the family and made them toe the line ...'

  Almost blindly, Kate walked to the window, opening it and stepping out on to the balcony. Had she made the family toe the line? she asked herself worriedly. Had she bullied them ? Forced them to do things they disliked doing ? Yet would she ever be able to forget the happiness on Jerome's face when he heard that she had agreed that they should have

  come out here? Kate brushed her hand across her eyes. It hurt terribly to know that Jerome might have refused this wonderful chance for him — because Miss Stern had told him enough to let her know just what a difference this could make to Jerome's future — if Kate had not agreed?

  There was a delightfully cool breeze as she stood on the balcony. She stared round her. Never in her life had she expected to see such beauty. There were palm trees everywhere, thousands of them, climbing the mountains that towered above her, crowding down to the water's edge.

  She glanced at her wrist watch and caught her breath with dismay. One last look in the glass. She did wish she looked older. Her oval face looked childish and the way her honey-brown hair hung straight and silky added to her naïve look. She straightened the flat pleats in her simple white frock, glanced over her shoulder to make sure the seams of her stockings were straight, then took a deep breath and left her room.

  As she walked down the graceful curving staircase lightly, she could hear the sound of soft singing somewhere and then the frantic click-clack of Nancy's typewriter. It was strange, Kate thought, what an effect Simon's personality had already had on Nancy. Nancy seemed delighted to work hard for him, and saw his strict demands as a friendly challenge. Kate caught herself envying her young sister. Simon's effect on her was...

  She stopped dead, catching her breath, for Simon was in the hall below her, looking up, watching her

  every movement. For a moment, as she stared at the tall, lean man in the immaculate white shorts and open-necked shirt, long blue socks and white shoes, she saw him as an attractive man, and not as the disagreeable person he usually was to her.

  And then she saw the quizzical smile in his eyes and the image of an attractive friendly man vanished.

  `I'm sorry I overslept,' Kate said stiffly, walking down the stairs quickly.

  `Don't apologize,' Simon began.

  Kate was not listening. 'I'm afraid Tehutu brought me breakfast in bed. I could have got up ...'

  `I don't doubt it,' Simon said, his voice dry. The fact remains, Kate, if you'll let me get a word in edgeways, the custom here is for everyone to have breakfast in bed.'

  Kate stared up at him, her eyes startled. He must be teasing her, she thought. And then she saw that he wasn't.

  `You mean ... you mean everyone has breakfast in bed ?'

  His smile appeared for a second, only to vanish. `Yes, I mean precisely that. My great-aunt had one weakness — she loathed getting up in the morning, so she made it a rule that everyone should have breakfast in bed.'

  `But . .' Kate began.

  Again he smiled briefly. 'It doesn't sound like me? I agree. Normally I loathe eating in bed, but here, you'll find in time, everything is different. Besides, it makes things easier for the staff. Keeps us out of the way while they're working. What did you think of

  Tehutu's uniform ?' This time he really smiled, an Kate smiled back.

  `It looked . . . well, it looked comical on her.'

  Simon nodded. 'I agree, but please don't tell her so, Kate. They're so proud of their uniforms. Come along and meet the staff,' he said, taking her arm in his hand.

  His touch was light but warm as he took her through the luxurious drawing-room, opened the door of the big empty ballroom, telling her of the parties his great-aunt had once held, and showing her the table-tennis table.

  `Nancy and Ian play every night — or else dance,' Simon said, showing her an old-fashioned gramophone on a table.

  Still holding her arm as if afraid she would slip away at any moment, Simon showed Kate the vast kitchen, surprisingly cool and spotlessly clean.

  Tehutu giggled and bobbed as Simon spoke to her and then a huge Polynesian woman with a flower tucked behind one ear and wearing a blue frock covered with a large, very starched apron, came forward with a smile for Simon and a quick curious look at Kate.

  Simon waited and Kate felt embarrassed. Was she expected to say something appreciative ? she wondered. She began apologetically:

  `You must find us a nuisance. After cooking for Mrs. Scott — I mean, there are so many of us .

  The Polynesian woman's face was one huge happy grin as she looked from Kate to Simon and then back to Kate.

  `Rita peopea,' she said gaily, and then laughed at

  the mystified look on Kate's face. 'That means it does not matter. You will learn soon — the way we talk. We are happy, I promise you. Very happy to have the house filled with popae.' She laughed again. 'That means — the white people. It is very good, too, to have young vahines here. Vahines is woman in our talk. When the old vahine died, our hearts felt like they were broken, we were so sad. No one to scold us, no one to praise us or for us to please — but now the house is filled with vahines and we are glad.'

  Tetia is right,' Tehutu spoke shyly. 'It is good you have come. Aue — we were afraid of tupapaus.' She looked over her shoulder with a shiver. 'We thought they had come to punish us, and then the laughter came back and deep voices and everything was good again .. .' She bobbed again and looked at Simon and smiled shyly. 'We are happy that you are here.'

  As Simon led Kate away from the kitchen, his hand tightened round her arm.

  `You see what I mean, Kate ?' he said. 'They hate quiet houses and loneliness. They like to have us here.'

  He took her to a room she had not seen. He unlocked the door with a key and then stood back to let her enter.

  `Nancy has never seen this room,' Simon said. 'She's too young to appreciate it.'

  Kate was staring round the enormous room that she saw instantly was an artist's studio. Startled by the unexpected friendliness in Simon's voice, she enjoyed the implied compliment, but the next moment her elation vanished, for Simon was indicating the many paintings on the walls, and those on several easels.

  `Take a look at them and see if you notice anything strange,' he said, his voice sceptical again.

  Kate had been looking at the huge bay windows which seemed to embrace the blue Pacific ocean; staring at the fantastically large rollers as they raced towards the reef of the lagoon, there to break, throwing up great fountains of sparkling water. The palm trees were gently swaying in the breeze and it was incredibly beautiful.


  The question, the tone of Simon's voice, all jerked her back from gazing at the beauty and for a moment she could not concentrate.

  `I — I haven't had time to look,' she said quickly. Simon's hand fell away from her arm and he stood back.

  `Take your time. You'll probably soon notice it, for most people do.'

  Her small white even teeth bit her lower lip for a second. What was he implying? she wondered. That if she could not notice the strange thing about the paintings, she must be sub-normal in intelligence?

  Every nerve in her body was tense and conscious of the amused glance the tall man gave her as he followed her round the room slowly. They were colourful paintings — some dramatic, some merely pretty, others strange and bewildering as if the artist had been experimenting with colours. Kate felt despair creeping over her. Caterina would have been able to answer him at once, Kate felt sure of that. Was Simon at this moment comparing her stupidity with Caterina's wit and intelligence? Kate wondered. And then she suddenly realized what Simon meant.

  Kate swung round triumphantly. 'She only painted trees and water and .

  Simon nodded, but his lean humorous face did not look very impressed. 'Exactly,' he said, his voice flat. `She had an aversion to painting human beings, apparently. Look at this one.'

  Kate went to stand by his side before the painting of a single palm tree, dancing in the breeze, its roots hidden in white sand and rock, behind it the sun-kissed blue sea.

  `Painted with love,' Simon said, his deep voice changing, becoming warm. He waved his hand vaguely. 'I call these Great-Aunt Adele's love letters. When she lost her husband, she transferred her love to the island. She was fortunate to be able to sublimate her love.'

  For a moment his voice was wistful and Kate was startled. He had sounded almost envious of his great-aunt.

  Simon went on, his voice deep and still warm, and Kate had the strange sensation that he had forgotten she was there and was merely thinking aloud.