by Mairi Wilson
Cameron had been home less than a month, but already he was causing Helen concern, even though he’d finally taken a house of his own. That day in May 1949 Evie had just returned from the annual review of the hospital’s rural clinics with Douglas. She’d met Helen at the Club for tea on her first day back and it was Helen’s gasp and exclamation that had made Evie turn. She couldn’t believe it when she saw them come in together, her arm linked in his, her face brighter than Evie had ever seen it. Even from where she and Helen were sitting in the Ladies’ Drawing Room, Ursula’s euphoria was clear. She looked almost frivolous. But then it was a long time since Evie had seen her out of her nursing uniform, although that afternoon there was more to her lightness than could be attributed to her wardrobe.
“Has she no sense?” Evie hissed under her breath.
“Has he no shame?” Helen had responded.
The couple lingered in the hallway, then he bent and kissed her hand lightly before disappearing in the direction of the Members’ Bar. Ursula watched him go, then turned to see her two friends sitting staring at her. She laughed and tripped, yes tripped, there really was no other word for it, over to join them. She plopped down in a chair, eyes shining and face glowing.
“Well?” she challenged the silent women. “Aren’t you going to scold me, tell me I’m a fool, a respectable professional with a reputation to consider?”
“Darling,” Helen began, then looked to Evie as if she should be the one to respond. Picking up the mantle, she tried, but truly was at a loss.
“Ursula, we’ve been here before. Four years ago on the boat and—”
“And people change.” Ursula’s hand waved in dismissal. “And deserve to be given a second chance. Isn’t that the Christian thing to do, Evie? Tell me, Evie, as a minister’s daughter, isn’t that the Christian thing to do if a man repents?”
“Not if that man is the devil incarnate,” Helen retorted. “And that one is.”
“No, he’s not. He’s changed. His time in South Africa, he says, has reminded him of the importance of values, and morals. Of loyalty and love.”
Helen’s laughter was as sharp as it was unexpected. “No, a leopard doesn’t change its spots. And that man is more of a predator than any big cat. Believe me, he’s been living under my roof until this weekend, so I know. Don’t fall for it. You’ll be sorry if you do.”
“Of course. You’d know.”
Evie was shocked at the venom in Ursula’s voice, the way she sneered at Helen, her friend.
“Ursula, I don’t think you should—”
“What’s the matter, Helen?” Ursula cut across Evie’s attempt to intervene. “Jealous?” Ursula’s smirk made her homely features ugly.
“Sorry?”
“Find it hard to accept a man like Cameron might abandon his infatuation with you for something deeper and more meaningful with me?”
“What?”
Evie couldn’t bear it. Not her two closest friends. “Ursula,” she tried again, “I really don’t—”
“This is nothing to do with you, Evie. This is between Helen and me. We all know Cameron was infatuated with her from the moment he set foot on that boat. What we didn’t know is that she encouraged him.”
“I most certainly did not!”
“We only have your word for that, don’t we? Perhaps we should ask Gregory. Cameron told me how awkward it was that the daughter of his brother’s new employer was behaving in such an unseemly way towards him. Imagine. How difficult for him.”
Evie was horrified by the sheer idiocy of Ursula’s words, the depths of her gullibility.
“Ursula, even I know that’s nonsense.” Evie put a hand on her friend’s arm in an attempt to stop her. “Gregory was the one who called Cameron to account for his behaviour. Who told him he was no longer welcome to sit with us at dinner. Gregory almost pushed him towards that Gertie, for goodness’ sake, anything to keep him away from us.”
“Think that if you like, Evie.” Ursula shook Evie’s hand off, crossed her arms and leant back in her chair. “But Cameron only took up with Gertie to try to stop Helen’s advances. If he’d really wanted Gertie, why didn’t he stay with her in South Africa?”
“Because Gertie’s married—”
“He thought Helen would leave him in peace when she realised he wasn’t interested in her. Once she’d started making eyes at his brother instead.” Ursula’s cold stare was fixed on Helen. “But you couldn’t leave him alone, could you? You had to find a way to hurt him, discredit him and have him sent away again. Never mind the pain it might have caused me, your friend. That’s the truth, isn’t it, Helen?”
Helen was quite pale. Evie thought again of the horrendous bruising on her skin that night she’d fixed her necklace for her. Of how Helen had tried to dismiss Cameron’s unwanted advances as nothing to worry about, his brutality as unintentional. And she was frightened. Ursula had no idea of the darkness in the man she had allowed to seduce her, for it was very clear that that was exactly what he had done.
Helen, with remarkable dignity, picked up her wrap and wound it around her set shoulders.
“I’m not going to pick an argument with you, Ursula, nor am I going to take offence. He’s spun his web around you again; anyone can see that. Just remember that we tried to warn you. And that we’ll be here to pick up the pieces when he hurts you once again.” She leant over and kissed Evie lightly on the cheek and bent to do the same to Ursula, who turned her head away with a snort of disgust. Evie heard Helen sigh as she walked away.
Ursula looked at Evie, challenge in her eyes, then shrugged before reaching for the teapot and pouring herself a cup.
“You could at least try to be happy for me, take my side for once. I knew you, remember, before you even met our grand heiress. I’m as much your friend as she is. More so. I don’t lie.”
“Ursula, dear,” Evie said, trying to strike a placatory note. “We all just want you to be happy. And he did behave appallingly before, so you can see why we might worry.” Her smile was forced as she held her tongue and patted Ursula’s hand.
“It wasn’t his fault. It was hers. And he won’t let her ruin his life with her games any more.”
Evie felt a shiver, a premonition. This was not like Ursula at all, and she feared it could only end badly.
*
When Evie woke, she didn’t need to open her eyes to know Robert was sitting there in the armchair beneath the window. She could smell the coffee he always brought in with him as he stopped to check on her on his way to his early morning clinic.
She smiled, and was rewarded with a soft chuckle.
“So you’re awake are you, Gran? And how are you feeling today?”
“Old, Robbie, my boy. As I do every day.”
“Well, at your age, what can you expect?”
It was hardly Ealing comedy, but they both enjoyed the familiar routines.
“So what did you make of her?” Never one to beat about the bush, her grandson.
“Delightful. Just like her mother.”
“Only she’s not, is she? Her mother didn’t go around asking difficult questions. Dangerous questions.” He drained his coffee, slapped the cup down on the windowsill. “What do we tell her, Gran?”
“The truth. She knows Ursula had a son. There’s no point in our denying it. I’ve tried; she doesn’t believe me. The best we can do is try to limit her enquiries. She knows more than she seems to realise already, and you, dear boy, need to find out how she knows and exactly what she knows. Then we can work out how best to protect her.”
“Protect Lexy?”
“Protect Helen.”
13
Lake Malawi, June 12th
Lexy had been astonished when Robert had called to invite her out yesterday. Well, not out in the sense of a date or anything, but to accompany him on a trip up to one of the clinics on the shore of Lake Malawi. She had hesitated for only a few seconds before agreeing. Apart from it being important to keep him onside af
ter getting off to such a bad start, she was excited at the thought of getting out of the city and seeing the famous lake. Just for a day she would try to forget all the shocks and surprises, loss and sadness and just … relax, which, after another day spent fruitlessly trawling through Ursula’s affairs as assembled by the lawyers in that tedious Manila folder, she felt she totally deserved, even if she had done a fair bit of the trawling poolside. She’d gone to bed early so was rested enough despite the early start to remain unruffled whatever the provocation and she would simply rise above any irritation Robert’s abrupt manner might cause.
She found herself wondering what she would have said if he had been asking her out. He was infuriatingly difficult to read, but then so were her own feelings. Ridiculous even to be thinking like that. With bereavement and break-up featuring heavily in her recent past, she was in no state emotionally even to consider … But he was darkly handsome, charismatic, decisive, a man of action … the complete opposite of Danny. Perhaps exactly what she needed to help her move on. Her rebound man.
“Oh, grow up, Lexy Shaw!” she scolded herself, throwing a crumpled blue shift dress onto the growing mound of rejected clothes on the bed behind her. Precious little left in the wardrobe now. But what was the dress code for a Sunday non-date picnic trip to Lake Malawi via a clinic, for goodness’ sake? Nothing too smart, but then again nothing too casual, which in Lexy’s world was usually a euphemism for scruffy anyway, and she had to look as if she’d made a bit of an effort, be rude not to, but not too much … Oh, this was impossible!
Jeans.
Or would they be too hot?
Tough. She’d suffer. White linen shirt. Sandals. Smear of lipstick, SPF higher than she thought existed until she saw it in the hotel lobby shop, and hair back in a ponytail. Job done. And don’t even think about looking in the mirror again, little miss sweet sixteen going on thirty-one.
She was downstairs waiting in the lobby on the dot of seven despite her dithering. Robert arrived fifteen minutes later, by which time she was breathing deeply and working hard to give the outward appearance of nonchalance. Keeping her cool wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped. But she pinned on her brightest smile and walked across the lobby to meet him.
“Robert, hello. This is so good of you. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to seeing something of Malawi other than city streets.”
“My pleasure, Lexy.” And, to her surprise, he smiled as if he meant it. He was obviously going to make the effort too. Good. “And please, accept my apologies for keeping you waiting.” Even better. “I was with Gran first thing and she … well, she took a turn for the worse so I didn’t want to leave until I was sure things were back under control.”
“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry.” Lexy was genuinely concerned to hear about Evie but couldn’t help feeling a little annoyed that he had a valid excuse for being late, making her feel petty for beginning to get huffy waiting. Score one to Robert. Not that this was about point-scoring, she reminded herself. “How is she?”
“They’re probably going to bring forward her operation.”
“Shouldn’t you be with her? I mean I quite understand if you—”
“No, no. Not at all. She’s settled now and will sleep most of the day, and they won’t operate until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest, and I’m not sure she’ll be strong enough even then. I can’t let the clinic down anyway. Some of them travel miles to get there. Shall we?”
Lexy followed him out to the car, letting him tell her about the clinic, prompting him occasionally with the odd question. As they drove out through the quiet streets, she found herself warming to Robert, forgiving his abrupt manner. He was clearly a man who was passionate about his work and his patients. Passionate about Malawi too, she discovered as they escaped into open country, leaving the buildings behind, and he launched into a running commentary on the landscape, the wildlife, the climate, even, becoming increasingly animated as they left the motorway and tarmac behind and rattled along a narrow, dusty track.
“Sorry,” he said, stopping abruptly. “I must be boring you to death.”
“On the contrary. It’s fascinating. I’ve never been outside Europe before and this is just so … so vast. So beautiful. Although that hardly seems to do it justice.”
Robert’s smile was warm, genuine. “Some people hate it. But some of us … some of us just get it. And I think you might turn out to be one of those, Lexy, what do you think?”
Their eyes met for a second but then the jeep hit a pothole and lurched drunkenly to Robert’s side and they bounced hard and high.
“Oh!” Lexy grabbed the handrail above her door as Robert’s eyes snapped back to the road and he wrestled with the wheel to bring the vehicle back under control.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you. When the chances of meeting another car are as slim as they are out here, you can get a bit lax about watching the road, but then these potholes can be treacherous. Other traffic isn’t really the problem.”
Lexy watched his profile as he drove, thinking over what he’d said. Might she be one of the ones who “get it”? She certainly loved what she’d seen of the country so far, and this landscape, this was breathtaking. She’d been conceived here, so perhaps it was in her blood, somehow. Perhaps, when she found Ursula’s son and her proxy family, this would come to be where she belonged.
She found herself flung sharply forward as the jeep skidded to a halt.
“There!” Robert was pointing through the windscreen on her side to a small clump of trees, his face animated and excited.
“What?”
“Elephants – see them?”
Lexy shook her head slowly, straining to see where he was pointing.
“Binoculars in the pocket of your door.” She pulled them out, looked at them, not quite sure which end was which or what exactly to do with them, but she needn’t have worried. He grabbed them from her and scanned the horizon, twiddling a knob in the middle of the two lenses with one hand as he pointed with the other. “Yes!” He was triumphant. “And antelope too, I think … yes! Sable antelopes.”
Well, great, thought Lexy, as long as you can see them. She could see nothing and felt a Danny-style huffiness creep over her. How rude, just to snatch—
“Here.” Robert pulled her closer to him and handed her the binoculars. “I’ve focused them for you.” She felt herself blush and hoped it was just because of her discomfort at how easily he’d wrong-footed her again. Nothing to do with being pulled into what was very like an embrace. He had turned her in the right direction and left one of his arms dangling over her shoulder, pointing out the animals with the other. She felt her breath stall. She could see them; brought close by the binoculars, she almost felt she could touch them.
“Amazing, eh?” She knew Robert was smiling, could hear it in his voice. “Come on, let’s get closer.” He was already opening his door.
“Oh, I …” Lexy didn’t want to admit to a reluctance to leave the safety of the jeep. “No it’s fine, I … We should get on … The clinic …”
“Two minutes. Come on.”
His door slammed and he was jogging round the car, opening her door for her and tugging at her arm like an impatient child. She hesitated for a second and then laughing, jumped down from the jeep and let him pull her behind him. She could see the animals without the binoculars now, and Robert slowed their pace, brought them to a halt, turned to her with a finger to his lips. They crept forward. Lexy’s heart was pumping hard. She had never seen anything like it. Her mother had taken her to the zoo to see “wild” African animals – fluffy, friendly monsters in cages – but this … this was something else entirely. She raised the binoculars again, felt him take her hand, guide it to the focusing dial and showing her how to move it. The animals blurred, sharpened and came into focus: a tall black antelope. She tightened the focus further and dark eyes looked straight at her. A predator contemplating a kill. She dropped the binoculars and gasped. Robert l
ooked at her, puzzled. He frowned, then took the binoculars from her and led her back towards the jeep. She sensed his disappointment. As they neared the vehicle, she stopped.
“It was looking at me,” she said. “Right at me. It was incredible.” She was relieved to see his face break into a smile.
“Yes, aren’t they? And all herbivores, despite all those tusks and horns.”
“Really?” Lexy was surprised. So not quite the predator she’d imagined, that antelope. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried that she’d been so quick to imagine the worst.
“Yes. Use them for defending themselves only. We could learn from that. I’m so glad we got to see them.” Robert laughed. “You know, I thought for a moment there you were frightened.”
“Oh no.” Lexy attempted a light laugh in return. “Not at all.” It was a fib, not a lie. She had just been taken a bit by surprise. But no, not frightened. Of course not.
“Sorry I dragged you away then.”
“Well,” she said, feeling magnanimous, and safe, “there is the clinic …”
“Yes, I suppose. Shall we?” He indicated the jeep and they started back. He was grinning. “Don’t get too many of those magnificent beasts in Edinburgh, do you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve come across a few wild bores in the Grassmarket on a Saturday night.”
“Yes, and a few stuffed ones in Morningside.” They both laughed at the feeble jokes and residual tension evaporated. They were back at the jeep now. He opened her door and closed it gently once she was settled. He walked slowly round to his side, one last glance at the animals before he climbed in, and they set off once again, the silence between them more companionable.
The clinic building was set at the edge of a very small village. It was a long, plain white single-storey structure with a verandah running the length of it. The verandah was already full of waiting patients, and Lexy could see more sitting in groups in the shade of the trees to the side of the building.
