Dangerous Enchantment

by Anne Mather

  Paul hunched his shoulders. “Is there someone else?”

  Julie flushed. “Yes… and no.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means there’s someone I could love, but he doesn’t love me.”

  Paul stared at her in disbelief. “Do I know him?”

  “Not exactly. Oh, please, Paul, I’ve been through all this with Mum and Dad; I can’t tell you. The information is not wholly mine to give. Can you forgive me?” She bit her lip awkwardly. “I’m sure I’m not the girl for you, Paul. Maybe while I’m away you’ll find the right one. I don’t want you to hang around waiting for me. Our relationship is over, I’m afraid.”

  “Will you write to me while you’re away?”

  She shook her head. “It’s better not, Paul. Forget about me. I’m not worth worrying about anyway.”

  “That’s easier said than done,” replied Paul moodily. “Oh, Julie, Julie, why can’t things go on the way they have done this past year between us? We were happy; I know we were.”

  Julie turned away. “We’ve both known for some time that things are not exactly as they used to be,” she said. “You must have sensed it, Paul.”

  Paul flushed. “All right, of course I did. But I didn’t want to bring it out into the open like this. I hoped that given time you might come to your senses.”

  “But I have,” exclaimed Julie. “Paul, don’t you see, if we married each other knowing everything was not as it should be, what do you think would happen? We’d both be miserable within a year. That’s not the way it should be. I’ve wondered sometimes whether you have any conception of the way love can be. The burning desire inside you to be with one person, the longing to see them, to touch them; to love them!” She bent her head.

  Paul was embarrassed. He was not a demonstrative man, and he did not like Julie to talk this way. She had never done so before, and he felt uncomfortable.

  “Well,” he said, fastening his coat briskly, “if that’s the way it is, there’s nothing more to be said. I’m still not satisfied that you’re not just living in a dream world, putting this man, whoever he is, on a pedestal that is bound to collapse. But I won’t argue with you now. Good-bye, Julie.”

  “Good-bye, Paul. I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

  “So am I!” said Paul stiffly, and went out quickly, before he said any more.

  They left London Airport at the end of February very early in the morning, warmly clad in woollen clothes and thick overcoats. All Ben’s equipment had been dispatched earlier to arrive before them.

  “Roll on the warm weather,” he said, as he seated himself between the two women in the forward compartment of the airliner. Tony lay peacefully in his carry-cot by their side. “Oh, girls, just think of it, six weeks in the sun!”

  Julie did think of it. She purposely cleared her mind of all other considerations and concentrated on the prospect ahead of her. By doing this she managed to attain a kind of balance for the first time since Manuel’s departure. But the flight, which took almost seven hours, ended all too soon and Julie’s no-man’s-land of transition up in the sky was over. As the aircraft sighted Labrador and then turned south over Gander, heading irrevocably for John F. Kennedy Airport, she realized reality was overtaking her again.

  Looking down through slender swathes of cloud, clearing now in the morning light, they saw forests and rivers, lakes and estuaries, and finally the unmistakable skyline of Manhattan. The plane slanted down, curved and touched the tarmac, and taxied to a halt near the airport buildings.

  Although Julie felt as though she had left her stomach somewhere up in the air, excitement ran through her like an electric current as they emerged from the plane and stepped on to American soil for the first time. There was so much to see, so many things to take in and digest, and so little time.

  They spent four days in New York before flying on to San Francisco. During those four days Samantha and Julie were almost walked off their feet, for Samantha did not believe that too much car-riding was good for a baby, and as they had the attachments which turned the carry-cot into a small pram they pushed Tony almost everywhere.

  The amount of traffic was terrifying at first, but they soon got used to it, and as Ben’s ideas of what he wanted to see differed from the girls’, usually he went his way alone. Samantha and Julie found Madison Avenue and the Empire State Building far more exciting than the Museum of Modern Art where Ben spent most of his time. Then there was Central Park; here it was possible to forget you were in the centre of the largest city in the United States, and the stretches of green grass and boating lakes reminded Julie of London.

  But after four hectic days it was a relief to sink into their seats in the aircraft which was to transport them to the west coast and a different way of life.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MARCH in California was a beautiful time, and from what Julie had gathered from the residents spring and autumn were the best times to visit. The air was warm and clear, the gardens burgeoned with colour, and the sea was warm and as blue as the sky so that the horizon melted into it. The house Ben had been granted for the duration of their stay faced the Pacific Ocean, and the continual sound of the waves provided a background to their days. The beach lay down a cliff path from the house, and breakers creamed on a beach that was almost white, and fringed with caves.

  The university was at Santa Marta, a small township some thirty-five miles from San Francisco, and Ben’s house was on the outskirts of the town along a stretch of highway where all the houses were palatial to Julie’s astonished eyes. Their own particular dwelling was single-storied, with a sloping roof shading a surrounding verandah, and a patio made bright with painted bamboo furniture. The patio gave an uninterrupted view of the ocean so that most meals were taken here.

  Ben had a couple of days before he started his lectures at the university, and during this time he took Samantha and Julie and baby Tony into San Francisco and showed them the sights. They had managed to hire a baby carriage for Tony, which folded neatly into the huge trunk of the Cadillac provided for Ben by the university.

  But when Ben began his duties, the two girls spent most of their days at the house, lazing around or swimming from the beach, and generally taking it easy. The housework was done by a middle-aged woman called Mrs. Sparks who lived in Santa Marta, and as she had seven children of her own, all grown up now, of course, she was only too willing to take charge of Tony when the girls went swimming. Tony seemed to take to her enormously, and cried when Julie took him away to feed or bath him.

  By the end of the first week Julie was beginning to feel a bit of a fraud. Apart from assisting Samantha with Tony’s washing, and occasionally looking after him in the evenings when Ben and Samantha attended dinner parties given by members of the fraternity, she seemed to have little or nothing to do. Tony was a good baby, and as he was only a little over two months old, he slept most of the time, waking only for meals. Samantha herself liked to do as much for him as she could, and consequently Julie began to feel superfluous.

  “Samantha,” she said one afternoon, when they were relaxing on the verandah after a delicious lunch served by Mrs. Sparks, “I really think you got me to come with you under false pretences, and as for paying me a wage, as well as my keep, for doing nothing… well, I simply can’t allow it.”

  Samantha laughed. “Oh, Julie,” she exclaimed, “what a conscientious little creature you are, aren’t you? Good heavens, can’t you see that I’d be bored stiff here all day without anyone to talk to?”

  “That’s all very well, but I’m sure you could make friends with people out here, and ask them to come for a visit or something,” replied Julie. “I mean, what do I do? I occasionally feed Tony, and I bath him every evening. Other than that, I might just as well not be here. I understood you wanted to be free to do as you pleased, and yet here you are, constantly on hand to look after his every wish.”

  Samantha giggled. “Well, you see, Julie, I didn’t realiz
e how much I enjoyed doing things for Tony myself. Honestly, when I first invited you to come I thought being a mother was going to be a bit of a bore. But it’s not!”

  Julie sighed. “So what now?”

  “So nothing. You relax, darling, have a good time. Look, why don’t you go into San Francisco one day yourself? I can cope here, and you didn’t see much that day Ben took us in. You were coping with Tony then, but I’m sure you’d enjoy yourself much better alone.”

  Julie shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I mean, you’re making me feel as though I’m the one who’s on holiday, when really it should be you!”

  “Well, darling, you’re losing those ghastly shadows from under your eyes, and I think this trip is doing you the world of good.”

  Julie nodded. “You’re right, of course. I do feel heaps better, but I still feel guilty.”

  “Well, don’t. I’m perfectly happy, and enjoying your company.”

  Julie smiled, and squeezed her friend’s hand. “Oh, Sam,” she said, “thank you.”

  When Ben came home that evening, he looked rather flushed and disturbed, and Julie, wondering whether anything had gone wrong at the university, discreetly left him and Samantha alone. It was not until later, when dinner was over and Ben had gone to compose his lecture for the following day, that Samantha told Julie what had happened.

  “Ben has seen Manuel Cortez,” she said bluntly, angry in a way that she should have to bring that man’s name up again.

  “Manuel?” said Julie, tightly, frowning. “But how… I mean… I didn’t know Ben knew him.”

  “He didn’t – at least, only by sight, of course. But you see, apparently Ben mentioned to these colleagues at the university that he considered Manuel’s face interesting. You know he said as much to us.” Julie nodded. “Well, apparently.” Samantha sighed heavily, “one of these professors is friendly with Manuel’s brother, Felipe, and he mentioned it to him, and Felipe must have told Manuel. Anyway, Ben arranged to have lunch today with Felipe, just to discuss his work, and who should turn up during the course of the meal but Manuel himself?”

  “So he’s back in the States, then.” Julie’s voice was merely a whisper.

  Samantha nodded. “Ben was amazed. I suppose from the way we had discussed him he had thought Manuel to be some kind of ogre, but he said he was charming, and Ben was quite charmed by him. Anyway, the whole outcome is that Manuel has agreed for Ben to take some sketches of him to use in his next exhibition, and Ben will be going out to Manuel’s home to do them.” She spread wide her hands. “I had to tell you, darling. I mean, it’s no use pretending, is it?”

  Julie shook her head. “Of course not,” she said stiffly. “Oh, honestly, Samantha, this makes me feel worse than ever.”

  “Why? You needn’t see him. Good lord, California is an enormous place, and Manuel doesn’t live in San Francisco, he lives in Monterey. But I couldn’t let Ben go there without telling you the truth.”

  “It’s not that,” said Julie uncomfortably. “What if he should find out I’m here? He’ll think I’m following him.”

  Samantha scoffed, “Why, that’s ridiculous! He was still in England when we left. For all you knew, he might have been going on an extended tour of the Continent, not coming straight back here. And in any case, you didn’t know where he lived, did you?”

  “He mentioned that he lived in California,” admitted Julie dully. “But I honestly never expected to see him.”

  “I know you didn’t, darling. Anyway, Ben won’t mention you, so relax. After all, if we think logically about this, it’s a marvellous opportunity for Ben.”

  Julie smiled. “I know, Sam. I’m sorry I’m burdening you with my problems.”

  Samantha shook her gently. “Now don’t be silly. You go ahead and do what I suggested. Have a trip into San Francisco tomorrow, and forget all about Manuel Cortez.”

  Ben drove Julie into the city the next morning before going to the university. He wanted to get some materials which he couldn’t get in Santa Marta, and he dropped her near the city centre, agreeing that she should take a taxi back to the house later.

  After Ben had driven away, Julie felt a little aimless. It was one thing to agree to go exploring alone, but quite another to do it. Finally she took a cable car to Fisherman’s Wharf and spent some time around the harbour. It was fascinating, and she was tempted to go out on one of the boat tours, but deciding she hadn’t the time, she abandoned the idea. The tourist attractions of the souvenir shops did not appeal to her and she glanced idly through her guide book, wondering where to go next.

  Leaving the spectacle of Oakland Bridge behind her, she turned into one of the lesser-known streets leading up from the docks. Here was a part of San Francisco which seemed to have changed little for many years, with bars and resthouses for seamen jostling coffee shops and warehouses.

  Julie was about to turn back to the main street again when her eyes were drawn to a beautifully polished step leading into an equally polished-looking old building with “Seamen’s Mission Hospital” written in fading letters on a sign above the door. She smiled, putting her head on one side as she did so, and wondered about the building’s history. Had it been there since the days of the Gold Rush in the mid-nineteenth century, when men from all over the world had surged to the fields in search of fortune?

  As she stood there, the figure of a nun appeared in the doorway, looking thoughtfully up and down the street as though in search of something or someone. When she saw Julie she frowned, as though surprised to find any tourist in this part of the city. Then she descended the steps and come towards her.

  “Good morning,” she said, her greeting warm and enveloping.

  “Good morning, Sister,” replied Julie. “It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

  The sister nodded, preoccupied with her thoughts. Then: “You do not by any chance speak Polish, do you, child?”

  Julie’s eyes widened. “I’m afraid not.”

  The sister compressed her lips. “Of course. It was too good to be true. But when I saw you standing there, I thought perhaps. …” Her voice trailed away. “Ah, well, it is better that you should return to the busier thoroughfares, my dear. This can be a… a dangerous area for a young girl to walk alone. Are you lost?”

  “No. I’m afraid I was exploring. I’m sorry I can’t help you at all. I’m afraid French and German are my only languages, apart from English, of course.” She smiled a little self-consciously.

  “German. German!” The sister frowned. “German, perhaps.”

  Julie stared at her curiously.

  The sister smiled now. “Oh, you will be thinking I am a little mad, I’m sure. It is just that we have a patient, a Polish seaman, who was brought in last night after he had been found groaning in the gutter. He speaks no English, and it is obvious from our examinations that he has an acute appendicitis. It is essential that we make him understand that he needs an emergency operation, for there might be a perforation at any time. We have been unable to speak with him, and I am at my wits’ end. Your arrival may indeed be a godsend if you can make him understand you. Would you do this for us?”

  “Well, of course,” exclaimed Julie, at once. “I only hope he can understand my accent.”

  “Let us hope he understands German,” agreed the sister fervently, and led the way back into the hospital.

  As they passed the tiled entrance hall Julie noticed that although everywhere was spotless, it was obvious the hospital was very old, and the crumbling walls in places bore witness to this effect.

  The sister led the way to a long ward, crowded with beds and patients with every kind of fracture and injury, as well as some men who lay staring vacantly into space as though unaware of their surroundings. Julie’s entrance caused quite a stir, and she tried to ignore the interested glances cast in her direction.

  The Polish seaman did indeed look very ill when they reached him, screened from the rest of the ward by tall sheeted screens. Another sister was
sitting beside his bed, and she rose at their arrival and drew back. The seaman’s face was pinched and white, enhanced by the rough blackness of the hair and stubble on his chin. He stared uncomprehendingly at them, his eyes mirroring the pain he was having.

  Julie seated herself beside him, and said: “Do you speak German?” in that language.

  The man’s eyes brightened a little. “Ja, ja.” His voice, swift and tremulous, betrayed his relief at having found someone to understand him.

  Wasting no time, Julie explained the situation to him. It was obvious from his ejaculations and gestures he had had no idea of the precariousness of his position.

  Julie rose to her feet. “He appears to have thought he had food poisoning,” she said to the sister. “The food on the ship was very bad, but of course now he understands, and is eager to have the operation over with. I’ve explained how he came to be here, and he’s more relaxed now.”

  “Ah!” The sister breathed a sigh of relief. “You see how it is here? How busy we are? It is difficult to get staff, and until the new hospital is completed things will not improve.”

  “You’re to have a new building?” asked Julie.

  “Yes, soon, I hope. The plans have been passed, and soon we will be able to see the foundations laid. It will be much better.”

  “I’m sure it will,” agreed Julie, looking round the crowded ward, conscious of the speculative glances cast in her direction by its occupants.

  “And now we have taken up enough of your time,” said the sister politely, walking to the door. “I hope you did not mind my asking you to interpret for us.”

  “Of course not,” exclaimed Julie. “Do you think it would be a good idea if I came back in the morning? The man will have had his operation by then and may need an interpreter.”

  The sister looked surprised. “Why, yes, I think that is a very good idea. If that is what you would like to do. And if it is not imposing upon your time. You are on holiday?”

  “Sort of. But I’m sure I could come if you think it’s useful for me to do so.”