Paradise Island

by Hilary Wilde

  work, asked me to take her place. It semed simpler to take Natalie's professional name . . ." "And her husband?" Mrs. Lindstrom asked. Lauren's face burned. "I happen to be Natalie's friend, and Nick" "Is certainly not to be trusted," Mrs. Lindstrom said curtly. "I happen to know that Mr. Harvey is very shocked and angry." "Please, Mrs. Lindstrom," Lauren said. People were pushing closer to hear more clearly. If onlythe floor would open and swallow her up! "Doubtless Mr. Harvey will deal with you," Mrs. Lindstrom finished, and walked away. Lauren fled to the hairdresser, and as she sat, hot and miserable, under the dryer, she thought of the ugly little scene. How Mrs. Lindstrom hated her. But why? Why should two elegant, sophisticated and beautiful women like Mrs. Lindstrom and Miss Hunter hate her? If only she knew what she had done to offend them. If Mrs. Lindstrom was going around saying all those awful things about Nick? As for saying he was not to be trusted ... Small, unwelcome thoughts crowded into her mind. She remembered the men who laughed at her because she would not drink anything and who teased her about Nick's quick protection ofher, and asked her if she was not jealous of her husband's affairs. She had laughed at the time and thought no more of it, for she trusted Nickimplicitly. His very behaviour towards her made her trust him. But now she found herself beginning to wonder, and that frightened her. If these wispy accusations built up into something ,in her mind, how much more they might affect people who did not know the real Nick? He had always said that Mrs. Lindstrom was a dangerous woman. Why, she could ruin his whole future! What could she do about it? Lauren wondered, as the little bearded hairdresser combed her hair 104 into strange arrangements. For once he did notchatter to her. Had he also heard about it all? That night she and Nick danced without any heart. It seemed to them both that their applause was less than usual. Afterwards when they mixed with the hotel guests, everything seemed normal and yet neither Lauren nor Nick could hide theirdepression. Suppose Roland Harvey forgave them and let them staywould it be as simple .as that? Suppose he heard of the gossip going round, wouldn't he be angry with Mrs. Lindstrom for starting it? But would he know who had started it? Wasn't it more than likely that Mrs. Lindstrom herself would tell him what she had "heard" and say how shocked she was about it? Next day she talked to Rene Thompson. "If only I could see Deborah . . ." she sighed. Rene Thompson lifted one eyebrow, letting her hair swing forward as she bent to straighten a pile of towels. "Look, stop fussing so. This is a lot of .nonsense about nothing. You and Nick haven't done anything criminal, so stop getting such a complex about it," she scolded. "It's only a couple of women, the Hunter and Mrs. Lindstrom, who are trying to build .it up into something, simply because both of them are after your blood." "But why are they?" Lauren asked miserably. Rene chuckled. "Because the great Roland Harvey obviously likes you quite a bit." "But he doesn't like me. He sees me as a child, as a friend of Deborah's." "How do you know? Has he ever told you so?"Rene asked. "Of course not, but it's the way he treats me." "Well, I wouldn't mind being treated like that by the one and only Roland Harvey," Rene said, and laughed. "There's always the chance that one day he may wake up and see what you are 105 really like, and thenwham Ijust like that, he'llfall at your feet, a helpless slave to your beauty!" "Oh, Rene, stop teasing me," Lauren said,laughing helplessly. Rene had a knack of cheering her up. Then she remembered Deborah. "But how is the child?" Rene looked sober for a moment and a little sad. "Poor kid, my heart bleeds for her, Lauren. With a mother like that... It seems she has been crying so much that they had to have the doctor in, for the child got quite hysterical, I don't know what over . . . unless her mother says she must never speak to you again." "If only there was something I could do," Lauren said. It was to be three days before they knew anything definite, three days of slow mental torture, of tense nerves and quick tempers; three days of not seeing Deborah, of worrying about her andbeing unable to do anything about it; three days during which Nick grew daily more depressed; three days of Miss Hunter's angry glares; offeeling heavy and clumsy and miserable. Then someone told them that Roland Harvey had returned from England. "He'll send for us in the morning, I expect," Nick said that evening before they danced. Both felt as if they were dancing on red-hot wires, and nothing went right, and although they tried to avoid the subject of what was going to happen to them, every time they talked together the conversation seemed to return to the same thing. If only they knew! The whole evening both were conscious that itmight be their last night therethe last time they danced to this warm, responsive audience. That night Lauren stood on her balcony, looking at the stars sparkling in the dark sky, at the distant water, the silhouette of palm trees. Thislovely place . . , ,

  In the morning she got up early and wentstraight to Deborah's palm tree. Nick had told her not to hang about the hotel. "We don't want to look like whipped dogs," he had said, "even if we feel like it," he had added with a grin. "Strictly speaking, you and I are notat fault. The blame really rests on Miss Cartwright. I've some dancing lessons to give in the morning, so I'll be around, and I'll know whereyou are in case I have to send for you.", So Lauren lay on her towel on the warm sand, listening to the strange rustles and whispers from the palm tree above her. Everything that day seemed to look more beautiful than it had ever looked before. The colours were brighterthe sea looked more bluethe cloudless sky was perfect. Laughter and voices drifted towards hereveryone seemed to be so happy. It was the loveliestplace for a holiday. At least she had seen it and enjoyed it for a while. She had hoped that perhaps Mrs. Lindstrom might now have relented, or Deborah persuaded Roland Harvey to help her, but although Lauren waited under the palm tree until it was time to give her dancing lessons to the children, and then hurried back to it afterwards, there was no sign of Deborah. Had they really done such a'terrible thing? she asked herself. Wasn't it being exaggerated out of all normal proportions?Rene Thompson thought so, but she had pointed out that not telling the truth to Mr. Harvey had at least given them a chance to enjoy a few weeks' suhshine there. If only that was all it had been . . /. just a very pleasant way to work. If only Roland Harvey had not walked into her life . . . She turned over, loving the warmth of the sun on her back, and suddenly she saw Nick comestriding across the sands towards her. 107

  She sat up hastily. Nick was too far away for her to see his expression. He waved. She wavedback, not sure if he was beckoning to her or merely waving. She held her breath and crossed her fingers tightly. Oh, please, let it be good news! Nick began to run. towards her. How handsome he looked, tall and lean, neat in his tropical suit, his dark hair gleaming. As he got closer, she saw the excitement on his face. "It's all right," he called out. "We can stay." She closed her eyes for a second as relief swept through her. It was all right. All right! Nick flung himself down beside her and seized her hands. "It's all right, honey child," he said exictedly, smiling at her. "Mr. Harvey says we can stay. He saw Miss Cartwright and everything is okay." Nick's eyes were bright with triumph. "Of course the old Hunter is trying to make out that she talked him into forgiving us, but I don't believe it. Roland Harvey isn't the type of man to be persuaded by any woman." Lauren's eyes were like stars. "Oh, how wonderful Nick! I knew he would understand." Nick laughed. "You always said so, kiddo. I wish I'd taken your advice in the first place. The last few days have been like a nightmare." Lauren sighed. "They most certainly have! Now we can relax. You saw Mr. Harvey?" "Oh, no, of course not. As the Hunter pointed out politely, we're small fry to a great man like that. He instructed Miss Hunter to inform me that whue he regretted my wife's inability to fulfil her share of the contract, he was more than satisfied with the substitute provided." He squeezed her hands tightly. "You've been a good kid, Laurenworked hard and never moaned, done really well! Just wait until I tell Miss Cartwright. After this, you need never go back toteaching kids how to dance." 108 , Suddenly he leaned forward, put both his hands on her shoulders and kissed her gently. "That's for all you've done to help me," he said. "Bless you, honey child . . ." Lauren heard a sound, and she looked over Nick's shoulder and saw
Roland Harvey, standing there. He might have been there for just one moment or for longer, but without doubt he had seen Nick kiss her. His mouth was a thin line, his eyes hard and angry. Before she could speak, he had turned and walked away again, his-feet making no sound on the hot sand. Lauren decided quickly not to mention it to Nick. After all, the kiss had meant nothing to either of them. What a pity, though, he had chosen that moment to show his gratitudejust when Roland Harvey was there to see it. Nick soon left her, for he had another dancing lesson to give. He strode off, whistling cheerfully, every now and then doing a little dance as he crossed the sands. Lauren lay back and closed her eyes. If only Nick had not kissed her . . . Suddenly she felt she did not want to stay on the beach any longer, some of the warmth seemed to have gone out of the sun. She gathered her things together and found her way back to the hotel. She was having an early lunch on one of the balconies when she was paged:"Miss Roubin . . . Miss Lauren Roubin! The small African page, immaculate in his starched white uniform, gave her a note. She did not recognize the handwritingthick, heavy, determined strokes, very masculine in appearance. She read the signature first and her heart seemed to leap. Roland Harvey. Then she read the note. 109

  "J would like to see you in my office immediately." No "please", no politeness. Just a curt order. How angry he must be! Hastily she pushed away her now unwanted lunch and hurried to a cloakroom, looking anxiously at her peaky face, trying to rub some colour in her cheeks. No time to go upstairs for the artificial courage which a freshly made-up face might have given her. She must not keep him waiting. She ran a comb hastily through her hair. Why did he want to see her? It could only be because he saw Nick kissing her. Why, oh, why had Nick chosen that moment? Nervously she knocked on Roland Harvey's office door. He called out sharply and she entered, receiving a vague impression of a very well furnished room, with a massive walnut desk, of enormous picture windows, of shelves of books .. , but her eyes were focused on one thing only the tall, lean man standing with his back to the wonderful view, looking at her with steely bluegrey eyes. He still wore the light tropical suit he had worn on the beach, his dark red hair was smooth, his hands clasped behind his back. "Sit down," he barked. Her legs suddenly felt weak and she was glad to obey. He came towards her, towering above her. His voice was cold. "I have just been to London,, and while I was there I saw Miss Cartwright." He spoke crisply, as if rapping out orders. "She satisfied me that you and Nicholas Natal could remain here. As you are aware, I usually insist on a married couple performing here, but on this occasion I was, after hearing the truth of the matter, prepared to waive my usual insistence. I v/as satisfied that Miss Cartwright had been in a difficult position, that she valued the booking and did not want to 110 embarrass us by leaving us without dancers. What I cannot understand is . . ." he paused, frowning down at her, "why you didn't tell me the truth. We're not strangers." He paused again. "Are we?" he barked. She jumped in her seat. "Well, no, Mr. Harvey, not" "Of course we're not strangers," he said impatiently. "I thought I had grown to know you quite well. I see how mistaken I was. You appeared to be a nice girl, 1so kind to that unfortunate child. Sincere, honest... How wrong I was!" Her cheeks hot, Lauren jumped to her feet. "Please, Mr. Harvey, you must believe me. I wanted to tell you the truth. I knew you would understand." He was still staring at her, frowning a little. "Then why didn't you tell me?" Unconsciously she held out her hands in an appealing little gesture. "Nick . . . Miss Hunter ... they both said you would be very angry and and would send us back to England." His face did not lose its sternness. "Miss Hunter tells me a very different story. She says that she advised you both to make a clean breast of it and you both begged her not to tell me." "That's not true," Lauren said indignantly. She paused, swallowed, and began again. "I know Nick was afraid of ..." "You weren't?" She looked up at him. "Of course not. I knew you would understand." He turned away abruptly and went to stand by the window, speaking over his shoulder without looking at her. She stood still, twisting her hands together unhappily as she watched the firm, uncompromising back. "I saw your parents when I was in England," he said. 9 111 ':' She stared at his back. "My parents?" she echoed. "Yes. I was not satisfied about you being out here alone with this . . . this Nicholas Natal." Roland Harvey's voice was hard. "However, they assured me that there was no need for me to feel alarm on your behalf. They said you had been friends with the two dancers for a long time. They made me feel happier about you." It was as if she had been running for a very long time and could not find her voice. "You had no right to go and see my parents." The angry indignant words suddenly tumbled out of her mouth. "I'm not a child. You have no right to treat me as one." He swung around to stare at her. "I have every right. While you are here, I feel responsible for you. Although your parents assured me that you could look after yourself, I doubted it. I doubt it still more now," he said harshly, his eyes bright with anger. "In fact, I bitterly regret agreeing that you could stay on." Her hand flew to her mouth. Above it, her eyes were wide with distress. "You regret it?" "I most certainly do. Because now I remember that you told me that you were a woman, and ready for love." The words, as he flung them angrily at her, sounded ugly. He came closer and she stared up at him, unable to move away. "Haveyou forgotten, Miss Roubin," he said and now his voice was calm, the calm of a man battling to discipline his anger, "have you forgotten that Nicholas Natal is a married man?" 112

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THERE was a moment during which the whole world seemed to stand still for Lauren, as she stared 'up into the eyes of the tall, powerful, angry man. She understood now. It was that innocent kiss of Nick's that had spoiled everything. "Of course I haven't forgotten that Nick is married," she said, clenching her hands, trying to keep her voice steady. "His wife is a friend of mine." The rugged stern face above her did not relax. "What difference does that make?" he demanded. Her face burned. "You don't fall in love with your friend's husband," she told him angrily. "Don't you?" Roland Harvey asked, his voice amused. She saw that the anger had left him now. In a way, she was sorry. At least he had been angry with her, as a person. Now he had put her back in her old place, as a very young girl. "How do you stop yourself?" he asked lightly. She stared at him, swallowed, tried to find the right words. Suddenly there were none. Nor could she think of an answer to that simple question. If Roland Harvey had been married to her friend, would that have stopped her from falling in love with him? It all seemed so straightforward and easy until it happened to you. She ran her tongue nervously over her dry lips. "I ... I ..." she faltered. He looked down at the heart-shaped, flushed face, at the puzzled, frightened eyes. "Well, go on and tell me," he said encouragingly. "What would 113 you do if you found yourself in love with a married man? I'm interested." She was twisting her hands together. "I'd . .. I'd go away. Right away." She stared up into hisamused eyes unflinchingly. He lifted his eyebrows. "I see. And if, as in this case, you could not run away?" She suddenly realized she was doing what Nick and' Deborah called her "stork trick". Hastily she lowered her foot and saw by the amusement on Roland Harvey's face that he had also noticed. Why had he the power to make her feel so stupid and childish? ' "My dear child," he said slowly in the voice she * hated most, the voice of an indulgent parent, "I doubt very much if you know what love means." She took a long deep breath. In that moment," she hated him with all her heart and, at the same time, loved him to despair. She stared up into his amused eyes, and her hand ached to smooth his dark red hair . . . she longed to fling her arms round his neck and confess the truth. Love!, Was this what every girl dreamed about? What the poets wrote about? What gained fortunes for song-writers? Was this sick, stabbing, hopeless pain, this aching to be loved . . . was this love? She blinked her eyes, looking away from him. "I do know what love is." She knew that she sounded like an emotional teenager battling with her first problem, sulky, difficult. "You're in love with someone?" His voice was so gentle that, for a moment, she was deceived, but when she looked up at him, she saw that he was laughing at her. She
lifted her chin. "Yes, I am in love with someone," she said, the words starting off defiantly but somehow growing sad. It was true. She loved him. But what was the good? 114

  His face seemed to alter in a second, almost as if a shutter had closed down over it. He turned away and spoke over his shoulder: "I would like you to be happy, but not at someone else's expense." Her face felt as if it was on fire. He thoughtshe meant that she was in love with Nick. "Mr. Harvey, I'm not" she began, worriedly, moving towards him. Whatever happened, hemust not believe that! * He looked at her, his face cold with displeasure. "I don't think we need discuss the matter, Miss Roubin." He frowned. "And now if you will excuse me ..." He moved with his usual swift grace to the door and opened it for her. "You won't give me a chance to explain?" sheasked him. He frowned. "I don't think there is anything toexplain." ' ; There was nothing else she could do but leave the room. Once the door was closed behind her, she lifted her hands to her hot face. She felt utterly exhausted. "Please let me pass, Miss Roubin," a crisp voice said. Lauren lowered her hands and stared at Miss Hunter. "I'm sorry," she murmured, and moved aside, uncomfortably aware that Miss Hunter had noticed the flushed cheeks, tear-filled eyes and drooping mouth before she opened the door of Mr:Harvey's office and went inside. Hurrying to the sanctuary of her room, Lauren thought how often it happened that Miss Hunter was on the scene when anything went wrong. If she missed a step in the dance practice, you could be sure Miss Hunter would be passing through the ballroom. If she had a difficult partner to copewith during the evening's mixing with the guests, 115