by Hilary Wilde
As Lauren waited with Nick for the roll of the drums that always heralded their entrance, she felt tense with a new heady excitement. Tonight she would dance as she had never danced before, she would show Roland Harvey how well she could dance, for she was sure he would be there. He would see what a good dancer she was ... Hastily she amended her thoughts to "a good dancer with Nick". It was Nick who helped her, Nick who had taught her everything, Nick who, with his trust in her, gave her ^ such confidence. Nick was smiling- at her. "You look smashing, honey child," he said. She laughed. "You look pretty smooth yourself Nick." He did. He looked very handsome indeed. He was dressed as a fisherman, his limbs were stained dark brown, his whole make-up was elaborately "natural". She was a mermaid, in a tight bodice of over-lapping green scales, a skirt made to look like a tail, deceptively tight, and made of the softest green gleaming silk. She wore a green wig, and would be wearing wigs all the eve-' ning, as there could be no time for changes of colour in her hair. Nick disliked her wearing wigs, as they were hot and not ideal for the sort of dances they did, but this was an occasion when it would not be helped. The drums rolled, and Nick picked her, up effortlessly and swung her over his shoulder, striding out on to the' floor with his "capture." It was a delightful dance, Lauren thought, and she lo-ved every moment of it, sliding' over the floor, eluding the net, teasing the fisherman, enticing him, repulsing him . . . Evidently the hotel guests agreed with her, for the ballroom vibrated to the roar of applause. There was just time for a short rest and a hasty change into the next costume and they took the floor again. This time they were two clowns, both 80
wanting to be acrobats. The mime was very good, especially Nick's, Lauren thought. It was a humorous yet wistful dance, and Lauren, eyes hidden behind her make-up, thoroughly enjoyed the/ tumbles and falls. Their third dance was completely different, a romantic old-fashioned waltz, and she wore a crinoline frock of palest blue satin which was garlanded with lovers' knots in blue ribbon. Her hair was. piled high over a light framework arid then dusted with powder. She wore beauty patches on her chin and on her shoulder. The music was so lovely thay they seemed "to dance effortlessly, sweeping round and round the ballroom gracefully, the gold and silver spotlights highlighting their movements. At last it was over, and they were taking their bows, Laurencurtseying again and again before she was allowed to escape. In her dressing-room she had a light meal before changing into the fabulous gown she was to wear for the rest of the evening. Nick had come prepared for a costume ball. Lauren's gown was too utterly lovely, she thought ecstatically, asClaudia helped her into it. It looked so heavy, so stiff, so dignified, the thick folds of material falling gracefully, but in actual fact it was made of gossamer-light material, wired to give an impression of weight. Though the material looked like heavy velvet, it weighed so little. It was a deep warm crimson, elaborately embroidered with goldthread, and she wore a white wig and a black mask that gave her slanting "cat's eyes". When Nick called for her, he was very elegantin satin doublet and gold-braided jacket. They danced together once. She was still so radiantly happy, and Nick danced so beautifully that she closed her eyes, relaxed and enjoyed every moment of it. Afterwards, she and Nickseparated, to dance with any other guests who 81 sought them out. Lauren danced every dance. Now she knew how to be gay, how to parry re-marks, how to make the hotel guests enjoy the dances. She had got used to pounding feet crushing her delicate shoes, how to make out that she was at fault if anyone tripped, how to guide the most clumsy dancer. In one interval between dances, her partner, a tall, bald-headed man in an Arab costume, pestered her to have champagne. "Come on, don't be childish," he teased. "You can't just drink tomato juice. It isn't in keeping with your lovely face." "Please, I'd rather not have champagne," she said. Then suddenly Nick was there, his arm round her shoulders. "Please, Mr. Cootes, my wife really doesn't care for alcohol," he said lightly, but there was suppressed anger in his voice. She looked up at him gratefully and thought how very handsome he was with his dark eyes and hair, his classical features and their promise of hidden strength. The bald-headed man shrugged and looked annoyed, and at that moment, another man said: "Hello, Harvey, very nice to see you." Such joy filled Lauren that she turned round instantly and found herself staring straight into the unmasked eyes of Roland Harvey. In dismay, she swung round again, feeling sick with fear. She heard him talking to someone and she felt the nails of her hands digging into her palms as she struggled for composure. As the first panic died down, she could reassure herself. He had not known herthere had been no flicker of recognition in his eyes as he stared at her. Had she forgotten she was wearing a mask? That she looked completely unlike little Lauren Roubin, friend of Deborah? No need to be afraid, so long as she could avoid speaking to him. 82
The next moment someone tapped her shoulder, and as she turned she saw that it was Roland Harvey himself. "Might I have this dance?" he asked. His voice was stiffly polite, his face impassive. She was sure that he did not know who she was. She went into his arms, and instantly her fear and stiffness vanished. Here was a man who danced very well, a man who loved to dance. It surprised her rather. Somehow in her thoughts she had always connected him with the great outdoorswith jungles and deserts and mountains never -with the glamour of a ballroom. He was not in costume but wearing a black dinner jacket and trousers, the only notes of colour being a scarlet cummerbund and matching carnation in his buttonhole. She was startled when he suddenly spoke. "Your dancing tonight was superb." / Normally she would have been thrilled. Now she was afraid. She felt her cheeks were hot, and she kept her eyes demurely lowered, not certain how much protection the mask was. She was terrified of speaking, for surely he would know her voice ? Yet answer him she must. She almost buried her face in his shoulder as she spoke: "Thank you, it's very nice of you." He swung her round, deftly avoiding the many dancers on the crowded floor. She saw quickly that he was smiling. "You're not much of a conversationalist," he commented in the teasing voice she knew so well. She pressed her face against his dinner jacket, trying to speak huskily. "When I dance, I like to" "Enjoy it?" He finished the sentence for her. "I stand reproved," he went on, in the slightly pedantic way of speaking and which somehow seemed so right for him. "It's a shame to spoil such perfect moments." 83
He finished the dance without another word, and although she felt like the girl in the song: I Could Have Danced All Night, yet it was a relief when he finally took her back to Nick, and left her with a bow. Nick was talking to a man, and a sudden impulse made Lauren put out her hand and touch Roland Harvey on the arm. "Mr. Harvey . . ." she said appealingly. In that second she had made up her mind. There was something sordid and shameful in keeping up this pretence. She was sure he would understand. But Roland Harvey was not listening. He was not even looking at her. He was staring acrossthe room at a very beautiful woman. A beautiful woman indeed, wearing an elaborately simple dress of pleated black chiffon, the floating panels trimmed with diamante embroidery. There was a narrow tiara on her elaborately dressed hair, diamonds in her ears, at her neck. Her eyes werebright and she stood, tapping her foot impatiently and looking round her, as if waiting for someone.Roland Harvey walked across the empty floor of the ballroom. He had eyes for only one person the lovely Leila Lindstrom. Close behind Lauren, Nick bent down to whisper in her ear. "It looks as if Mrs. Lindstrom's plans might come to something, honey child," he said softly."He couldn't get there fast enough!" 84
CHAPTER SIX
LAUREN was not sure what she had expected as a result of Roland Harvey's apology and apparent acceptance of her as a woman, but nothing whatever happened. If anything, she thought he treated her a little more distantly than before. Although every day he joined them on the sands, now he devoted most of his time-to Deborah, including Lauren in the conversation but rarely addressing her personally. This puzzled her and worried her a little, but when she confided in Nick, he merely laughed. "Just leave well alone, honey child," he said cheerfully. He had been very pleased because Roland Harvey h
ad not recognized her, even though he had danced with her that one unforgettable time. One morning she overslept and hurried down to the beach, knowing how disappointed Deborah would be if she went there and found no "Miss Woubin" waiting for her. It was a perfect day. The majestic palm trees waved slowly, the sea sparkled and danced in the sunshine, the white sands were crowded with children. How very different this fantastic dream-come-true was from London's drab streets in winter-time. How very, very lucky she was, she thought, as she hurried along the winding path that led through the flowering shrubs. Lauren was thinking worriedly, also, about the lack of success in Mr. Harvey's approach to his staff. He had not mentioned it to her, but Rene Thompson had told Lauren with some amusement about it. 85
"He asked us to be frank with him and say if we were dissatisfied with our salaries or our working hours." She had tossed her head and laughed. "How naive can a man be? Did he really think we would tell him the truth and havethe Hunter chuck us out in a few weeks' time?" Shocked by Rene's unexpected reaction, Lauren had defended Roland Harvey. "He wouldn't have told Miss Hunter," she declared. Rene had looked at her with pity. "Isn't it time you grew up? You can be sure he would have told the Hunter and asked her about it, then he would have forgotten the whole incident and left it to the Hunter to put things rightand what would have happened? Those of us who complained would have been told politely that our services were no longer needed, or something we, had done wrong would have been magnified inorder to get-rid of us. Oh, no," Rene had laughed bitterly, "we sat tight." So poor Mr. Harvey had failed to get any satisfaction. Lauren often wondered if she dared mention it to him, but with his new formality she had not found the courage. As she settled herself under "their" palm tree, Lauren heard Deborah's eager little voice and turned to watch her coming across the sands, tugging Roland Harvey with her. "You're late," Deborah said accusingly. "We've been swimming." 1 Roland Harvey's lean brown body was glistening from drops of water from the sea. His eyeswere hidden behind his sun-glasses, his hair plastered flat. He sank down on the warm sand by her side. "Good morning, Miss Roubin," he said in that new formal voice that put a wall between them. "I can dive, Miss Woubin, I can dive!" Deborah was saying excitedly as she danced round them.Lauren could not look away from the big man.
He was staring at her, too, but she could not see the expression in his eyes. "Miss Woubin, I'm speaking to you," Deborah said reproachfully. With a jerk, Lauren pulled herself together and smiled at the little girl by her side. "I'm sorry, darling, I did hear you. Can you really dive? That's wonderful." "Mr. Harvey says I'm going to be a weally good swimmer," Deborah began, just as a shadow fell across Lauren's sun-kissed body. Startled, she looked up, arid there was Mrs. Lindstrom, her eyes narrowed, her mouth a thin angry line. "So there you are, Deborah," she said crossly. "You should have told me you were coming to the beach. I've been looking . . ." She turned to Roland Harvey, her voice changing. "Was she with you, Roland? If so, that's quite all right." Even as Lauren was scrambling politely to her feet, Roland Harvey had stood up with one swift easy movement. He was half smiling. "I'm sorry if you were alarmed, Leila. I thought you knew that if ever Deborah vanishes, . she is either with me or Miss Roubin." "Please sit down," Mrs. Lindstrom said. "I don't want to spoil anything." She looked very beautiful in a white swim-suit. / Lauren was, thinking unhappily that they were on Christian name terms, if that meant anything. How odd to call Mr. Harvey "Roland". It was a wonderful name and suited him perfectly. She sat down awkwardly and silently as Mrs. Lindstrom proceeded to chat to Mr. Harvey, deliberately, it seemed, leaving Lauren out of the conversation. Lauren lay back and closed her eyes, wondering how she could quietly withdraw from the scene, for she was sure that neither of them wanted her to stay. So she was surprised when Roland Harvey suddenly stood up and said: "Time for another lesson, Deborah." 87
Deborah was on her feet in a second, racing'down towards the edge of the lagoon, where the tiny waves crawled in so lazily. There was a little silence after Roland Harvey had followed the small girl, and Lauren had kept her eyes tightly closed, hoping that Mrs. Lindstrom would believe her to be asleep, or would go away. No such luck! "Miss Roubin, I want to talk to you." Mrs.Lindstrqm's voice shattered the stillness. Reluctantly Lauren opened her eyes and met the steel blue gaze of the older woman. She sat up. "Yes, Mrs. Lindstrom?" she said politely. Mrs. Lindstrom leaned forward. "When," she asked sharply, "are you starting that ballet class? I don't want Deborah to forget all that she haslearned from youand so very expensively." Lauren flushed and stifled indignant words. After all, Mrs. Lindstrom must know that Miss Cartwright charged the high fees; it had nothing to do with her. "I presume the classes are going to start?" Mrs. Lindstrom continued. "After all, that's what you are here for, isn't it?" Lauren swallowed nervously. Was Mrs. Lindstrom getting-suspicious? "Yes, of course . . ." she began. "Well, it's high time the classes started." Mrs. Liridstrom frowned. "I never see you in the hotel. Where do you sleep ?" "In the hotel, but" Mrs. Lindstrom nodded. It was a very good thing, Lauren thought distractedly, that Mrs. Lindstrom had a habit of answering her own questions. It helped when you didn't know what answer to give!"Of course. Naturally you would not be'allowed to use the hotel reception rooms." There was asilence while Lauren dared to breathe a tiny sigh
of relief, and then Mrs. Lindstrom continued: "Mr. Harvey seems very fond of Deborah." A safe subject! "Oh, he is, very fond of her," Lauren could say fervently and truthfully. "He's wonderful with her." Mrs. Lindstrom was' watching the two figures gambolling happily in the lagoon. "Deborah is fond of him, too. He will make a good father." She spoke so complacently, so ... so surely, that Lauren felt as if something inside her was cringing. So it was true; Deborah was right. Roland Harvey was going to marry Leila Lindstrom. Lauren was suddenly aware that Mrs. Lindstrom was looking at her. "Miss Roubin," Mrs. Lindstrom began slowly, "you are very young, and as an older woman I feel I ought to offer you a few words of advice." She paused. Lauren clenched her hands, tensing .herself for what was to come. Such an introduction usually meant something nasty was about to be said! ( "Yes, Mrs. Lindstrom," she said meekly. 1 "Mr. Harvey is a very kind man," Mrs. Lindc strom said slowly, opening her beach bag and I taking out a silver cigarette case. She took her I time over lighting her cigarette, and Lauren had t to keep very still, fighting the sudden urge to I jump to her feet and run away. "A very kind, I patient man," Mrs. Lindstrom continued slowly.I "It would be a pity if you misinterpreted that I kindness." Lauren stared at her. "IWhat do you mean?" she asked. Mrs. Lindstrom gave a thin smile. "Simply that you are very young. Deborah happens to have taken a fancy to you and therefore you have been thrown into Mr. Harvey's company. Normally you -would never have met him. Naturally he looks upon you as Deborah's young friend."
Her voice rasped suddenly. "I wouldn't like you' to be hurt because you misunderstood his behaviour." Lauren's mouth went dry. Somehow she swallowed, somehow she found voice enough to say: ' "I'm not likely to misunderstand his behaviour,Mrs. Lindstrom. I realize that to Mr. Harvey I'm merely a child." She could not keep the bitterness out of her voice, and was uncomfortably awareof the quick flicker of interest in Mrs. Lindstrom's eyes. "If you'll excuse me now" Lauren said,scrambling to her feet, gathering her belongings and escaping along the twisting path-to the hotel. In her room, she changed into a demure white cotton frock that intensified her youthful appear-' ance. Her hands were trembling so much that it was difficult to do up the zip fastener. Shebrushed her hair so that it fell into a long pageboy bob, curling under at the ends. She leaned close to the mirror and surveyed her tearful eyes. It was foolish to get so worked up about it; she told herself. Maybe Mrs. Lindstrom had meant it kindly. But did it mean that Mrs. Lindstrom had guessed one of her secretsthat she loved Roland Harvey? Or far, far worse still, had Roland Harvey been embarrassed by her and mentioned it to Mrs. Lindstrom, asking her assistance? That was a terrible, unbearable thought. But why should he? When had she ever done or said anything that could have embarrassed him? She
went down to Miss Hunter's office. Somehow she must arrange about the ballet class before Mrs. Lindstrom had time to ask Miss Hunter questions. How terrible it would be if it wasMrs. Lindstrom who told Roland Harvey the truth about Natalie Natal, the dancer. Miss Hunter's office was small but luxurious. Great jars of scented flowers stood about, but her desk was neat and bare. She looked at Lauren impatiently. "Now what do you want?" she snapped. Stumbling over the words, Lauren explained the situation. "I'm afraid she might guess the truth," she concluded. "Really," Miss Hunter said, and there was no mistaking the hostility in her eyes, "you canhardly expect me to go on protecting you indefinitely." Her pencil gave an impatient tatoo on the polished desk. Lauren bit her lip nervously. Maybe she should have let Nick handle this. He seemed to be able to get on well with Miss Hunter. "I thought if I could have a ballet class for the children on the sands . . ." she stammered. In the end Miss Hunter consented. "Naturallyyou can't expect payment for it." Her voice was tart. "It had better be on the family beach every morning at half-past ten. I'll notify the parents and let you have a list of pupils. Start tomorrow and no missing a class just because you don'tfeel like it," she finished sternly. ' "Of course not, Miss Hunter," Lauren said meekly. "Thank you." Outside the office door, she lifted her hands to her hot cheeks. Why did Miss Hunter hate her so? What had she done to deserve it? "Miss Roubin," a familiar deep voice said. Lauren jumped and stared up into the face of Roland Harvey. He had changed into a tropical suit; he looked very well-groomed, his dark red hair smooth, his blue-grey eyes frankly curious. "What on earth are you doing here?" he went on. How fortunate that she could tell the truth. It would be difficult to lie with those searching eyesgazing into hers. 91
