Sally Wentworth - Conflict In Paradise

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by Sally Wentworth


  'No, I'm afraid not. Blake is sending me to the lagoon to take soundings from the boat. He wants me to see if it will be possible to use another part for a harbour, away from the mussel beds.'

  'Oh!' Tansy was taken aback. 'When did he tell you to do that?'

  'This afternoon. He spent several hours poring over the maps and charts, then gave me this assignment for tomorrow morning.'

  This piece of news had really given Tansy something to think about as she climbed the hill to her favourite spot looking out over the sea. It was the last thing she would have expected the Major to do—to waste time on looking for an alternative site just to try to save the natives' source of income, small though it was in comparison to the huge amounts of money that would be needed to move the harbour further along the coastline. Somehow it hardly seemed in character for Blake Aston. And yet— Tansy tried hard to be fair—how much did she really know about his true character? She had been biased against him from the start, had given him little or no chance to behave other than in the overbearing manner he had assumed towards her, although his attitude to the islanders had always been courteous after the bad start when he first arrived. Tansy sighed; could she have misjudged him?

  When she walked back down the hill eventually, she had made up her mind to give the Major the benefit of (he doubt; she would try to treat him less like a hated intruder and endeavour to see things from his point of view, or at least with an open mind.

  CHAPTER THREE

  This praiseworthy attempt at fair-mindedness was, however, rudely shattered less than twenty-four hours later. The Major had collected her the next morning, accompanied by the driver and a corporal this time, and they had driven, often over roads that were no more than dirt tracks, round the interior of the island. Tansy had tried to be fair—how she'd tried! She had greeted him with a smile and answered all his questions as fully as she could, often giving pieces of information that she thought would be useful to him. His glances at her had been sceptical at first, but gradually his manner had eased and she found him very observant and possessed of a dry sense of humour. Once or twice she even found herself laughing at a witty comment or an anecdote about the army. The morning was, in fact, going along well. Tansy was beginning to realise how much she missed the company of people like Blake Aston, people whose companionship she had enjoyed during her years in London, but the memory of which had gradually faded after her return to Aparoa.

  That was until they reached the coconut plantation on the long plateau that stretched inland from the cliffs. Blake got out of the jeep and ordered the men to take their equipment and start measuring up the area.

  'Who does the plantation belong to?' he asked her.

  'To the whole island. When my father came here he persuaded everyone to form a co-operative and they began to plant these trees. It's really only starting to pay off now because it takes eight to ten years before the palms get big enough to grow nuts, but then they keep producing them for about seventy years.' Tansy glanced up to the trees that towered over fifty feet in the air, looking rather like rows of ballet dancers with fantastic headdresses. In the distance some natives were collecting the fallen nuts or gathering ripe ones from the trees, not by climbing up them and throwing down the nuts as their ancestors had done, but with the help of a very long pole with an iron hook on the end. Now the only time anyone tried to climb the palms was on festive occasions when the young men showed off their skill and strength before, the village maidens.

  'What's the process for turning the nuts into copra?' Blake enquired.

  'When the nuts are gathered, the men split them open and remove the flesh and then leave it to dry in the sun for several days; that's when it becomes copra. Then it's bagged and stored in sheds to await the next schooner,' Tansy told him as he leaned negligently against the side of the jeep. 'But that isn't the only part that's utilised; the leaves are used for thatching houses and weaving mats and baskets, and the fibres we use for rope and for fuel for cooking fires—oh, its uses are endless. The islanders are hoping to have enough money this year to build a proper drying shed where the copra can be spread on racks over a closed-in fire. Then it dries out in only a day and you get a much better quality of copra.'

  Then Tansy stopped, aware that her enthusiastic tongue had run away with her again. 'I'm sorry. You must find this very uninteresting,' she apologised.

  'On the contrary. You know your subject well, and to hear an expert speak is always interesting.'

  Tansy flushed at the compliment. 'Oh, I'm no expert.

  You should hear Daddy when he gets going.'

  'I should like to—but he's still in Australia trying to get rid of us, isn't he?' he said with a wry twist to his mouth.

  A quick retort came to Tansy's lips, but she bit it back, remembering her resolve to try to be fair. And after all, what he had said was in fact true.

  'The natives have a legend of how the coconut came into being,' she hastily reverted to their former topic. 'They say that once there was nothing but bushes and grass on the island and a woman called Hina, and her husband, Tuna, were very sad about this. So the man said, "When I die cut off my head and plant it." So when Tuna died she did as he asked, and soon a green shoot appeared which grew into a huge tree with nuts the same shape as Tuna's head. When Hina picked a nut and took off the fibre, she found three marks exactly where Tuna's eyes and mouth would have been, and, if you look, you'll find that every coconut has those same marks.'

  Blake smiled, a rather whimsical smile, as Tansy looked up at him. 'That's a nice story. A bedtime story.'

  'You'll have to tell it to your children when you go back home,' Tansy said lightly.

  'I'm afraid I shall have to save it for quite some time, then. I'm not married, Miss Harland.'

  'Oh.' For some irrational reason Tansy wasn't displeased at this piece of information. 'I thought you would be at your…' She stopped herself quickly.

  'At my age,' he finished for her drily. 'There may be an age gap between us, Miss Harland, as you took care to point out to me, but I'm not quite in my dotage yet.'

  'No, I didn't think you were.' Tansy looked up into his eyes and found them watching her speculatively. 'Why aren't you married?' she asked abruptly.

  He hesitated for a long moment and Tansy realised just how personal her question had been and thought he was going to ignore it. But then he said slowly, seriously, Hi-cause it would take a very special kind of woman to tolerate the kind of life I lead. She would need to marry my job as well as me—the constant moves and long separations, the possibility of more or less having to tiring up children by herself and to cope with all the problems while I'm away. Not many women would be happy in that kind of role—unless the man meant more to them than anything else, that is. And I'm afraid that leaves seldom last long enough to meet someone and have time for a permanent relationship of that type to grow.'

  As Tansy listened she wondered if she had misjudged him even more than she thought and whether he was ever lonely.

  Perhaps compassion showed in her face, for there was a wicked gleam in Blake's eyes as his mood changed and he said, 'But in the meantime I do my best to go through the field to find a suitable candidate. Why don't you apply for the position?'

  'Me? Don't be silly!' Tansy was disconcerted.

  He gave her a sudden smile that was as attractive as she had imagined it might be. 'Why not? It would be interesting finding out if we were compatible,' he said outrageously, but looking her up and down, added, 'But then you are rather skinny—I do prefer a woman who has some flesh to get hold of.'

  'I'm not skinny!' Tansy retorted indignantly, rising to the bait. 'I'm fashionably slender.'

  'Is that what you call it?' Blake was unimpressed. 'Then there's this age difference you keep on about. How old are you, twenty-one, twenty-two?'

  'No, I'm twenty-five. I just look younger than my age.'

  'Hm, that's better, admittedly. But I expect you're completely inexperienced and I'd have to
teach you all there is to know. But I'm willing to give it a try.'

  He had taken a purposeful step towards her and to her horror had gone to put his hands on her shoulders to draw her towards him, when there was a hastily suppressed laugh behind them and she turned to see the corporal hovering nearby, a big grin splitting his face until Blake turned towards him.

  'Take that silly grin off your face, Corporal, or I'll give you a reason to wipe it off!'

  'Sir!' The corporal saluted, his face a frozen mask, and Tansy hurriedly got in the jeep, her cheeks flushed beneath her tan.

  The men talked together for a few moments before Blake came to sit beside her again, and as she looked up at him uncertainly, she saw imps of merriment in his dark eyes. So he had been teasing her; just as she suspected. But all the same she couldn't help wondering just what might have happened if the corporal hadn't returned at that moment. Would he have kissed her? Or would she have called his bluff? Perhaps it was just as well that she would never find out; Tansy had been kissed by many boy-friends in England, but somehow she felt that their kisses would pale into insignificance beside Blake's undoubted experience. Still, she reluctantly admitted to herself, he was right; it would have been interesting to find out.

  She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hardly realised that they were now nearing the place where another shorter plateau branched off at right angles from the plantation. This area had not yet been cleared and was half jungle, half scrub, an area of nature growing free and wild.

  'How far does this plateau reach?' Blake asked her, reverting to his more formal manner.

  'I'm not sure. About half a mile, I should think, but it's quite wide. You can't drive through it, though, the undergrowth is too dense and it doesn't lead anywhere.'

  'Hm.' He studied the map and wrote in some figures Tansy didn't understand, although she craned over to sec. 'Miss Harland, I'm going to ask the driver to take you home while the corporal and I survey this area on foot.'

  'You won't need me any more today?' There was just the slightest hint of disappointment in Tansy's voice.

  'No, but thank you for your help. It's been very useful.' As he looked at her Tansy saw warmth in his eyes for the first time.

  She was not displeased, therefore, when, in the early evening, she heard a knock on the door and went to open it expecting to see John, but found Blake standing there instead.

  'Oh, Major Aston! I thought it was John,' she said in surprise. 'Won't you come in?'

  He paused for a second, but then stepped into the room, ducking his head slightly to avoid the low, beamed ceiling.

  'Oh, dear,' Tansy said laughingly. 'I'm afraid these houses weren't designed for anyone as tall as you. Can I get you a drink, Major?'

  'No, thank you.'

  It came to Tansy then that there was something strange about his manner; incredibly he seemed ill at ease, as if he was making up his mind to say something, and she suddenly felt a chill down her spine.

  'What is it? Why have you come here?' she demanded.

  'I wanted to tell you myself, Miss Harland. After you left this morning we surveyed the coconut plantation area very thoroughly. It will make an ideal site for an airstrip. It has the added advantage that the plateau running at right angles to it towards the east could be used as a cross-strip so that we could have an all-wind landing area.'

  Tansy was staring at him aghast, hardly able to believe what her senses told her. 'But the trees—the coconut palms?' she managed.

  'They will all have to come down,' he answered bluntly.

  She flinched at the brutality of his words and leant back against the table, her legs feeling suddenly weak.

  'I should also tell you that Lieutenant Andrews made a thorough inspection of the lagoon today, but found nowhere else that could possibly be used as a harbour. The present one would have to be blasted and dredged.'

  'So you've left us with nothing?' Tansy said dully.

  Blake's mouth set in a firm line. 'I'm sorry.'

  'Sorry! How dare you say you're sorry!' Anger kept the tears from her eyes. 'You walk in here and tell me that you're going to kill this island, and all you can say is you're sorry!'

  'Two other islands are also being surveyed. When the reports are considered they may choose one of those instead,' he said stiffly.

  'Oh, don't try to sop me off with that. You don't want a different island to be chosen. You want it to be Aparoa because it will be a feather in your cap to have found it. What will they do—promote you to Colonel?' Tansy was almost shouting now in her rage and frustration. 'And to think that I tried to be open-minded and fair towards you today! My God, I bet you were laughing up your sleeve at every bit of information I gave you. Playing me along, even indulging in a little light flirtation to soften me up, while all the time you were planning to push this island for all you were worth so that the brass hats could look on you as one of their bright boys!' she jibed cruelly.

  There was a set look on Blake's face as he said grimly, 'I've told you this because I think you have a right to know. You can inform your father if you wish, but I'm afraid he won't be able to exert much influence in the decision. This is too important.'

  'And the natives? Am I to tell them?' she asked angrily, her voice filled with bitterness. 'Or is this thing tix> important for the people whose lives it will ruin to know about?'

  'I'd rather you didn't. You might only be alarming them unnecessarily. As I said, Aparao might not be chosen. And I would ask you to think about it carefully before you tell them.'

  'Oh, I'll think about it. I could hardly think about anything else, could I?' Tansy's knuckles were white as she stood facing him, trembling with fury. 'But I tell you this, Blake Aston, if I do tell the natives, then you and your men will be lucky to leave this island alive! Now get out of my house. I don't ever want to see you again!'

  It was quite some time after Blake had turned sharply on his heel and walked out of the house before Tansy roused herself from the armchair into which she had sunk as soon as he had gone. She felt strangely numb from the shock he had inflicted and her thoughts and emotions were a chaotic mixture of hurt pride and mental anguish. But from it all came one emotion that overrode everything else; it was hatred, pure and deep, for the man who had brought this on the island. The irrationality of the hate made it all the worse, because she couldn't combat it with reason. She had started to like him, started to trust him. Heavens, she had even wondered what it would be like if he had in fact kissed her! But now it was as if he had struck her repeatedly in the face, leaving wounds that were raw and ragged and would leave scars that would only fade and never heal. As Tansy sat there with her head in her hands, she realised for the first time that she was capable of intense emotion. She changed in that hour from a girl to a woman, but tragically what had changed her was not love, but hate.

  At length she got up and went into the garden, but tonight the heavy scents were cloying and overpowered her senses. Turning, she made her way down to the shore to feel the cool sea breeze and took off her sandals to walk in the soft white coral sand. The brilliant scarlet and gold and copper of the setting sun were softened in the sea's reflection, which shimmered dreamily as the slow breakers slid in to shore. Dully she realised that she had behaved like a complete fool as far as Blake Aston was concerned; he was a professional soldier and, as such, was interested in nothing else but furthering his own career. He had said he would ride roughshod over the islanders, and she was an islander, wasn't she? Someone whom he had made use of when he needed her. He was callous, completely unsympathetic to the needs of others, and entirely ruthless in his driving ambition. He had to be; for anyone else would have realised that the harbour and the plantation were the Aparoans' only sources of livelihood and would have immediately sent in a report saying that the island was wholly unsuitable. The only discordant note in the whole affair was that the Major had bothered to come and tell her himself. But perhaps his devious mind had a reason for that, too. Did he per
haps want her to tell the islanders? to rouse them into making trouble so that he could have an excuse to move them over to the other side of the island, leaving him a clear field for the building of the airstrip and harbour? Tansy's mind began to whirl as she tried to put herself in his shoes, tried to work out the reasons for his actions, but it was impossible to be certain of anything when she knew only her side.

  Abruptly she stood up and pulled off her shorts and shirt so that she was dressed only in a pale blue bikini. Running down to the water's edge, she plunged into the sea, swimming out into the lagoon with a clean, graceful movement that soon carried her far out past the jetty. She thought she heard a shout behind her and she turned immediately and started to swim back. It had been silly to swim out so far, there were too many hungry sharks along the coast to make swimming a safe pastime.

  As she neared the shore Tansy looked to see who had called after her and then she saw Ruari jogging across the sand towards her. She ran to meet him without any embarrassment for her skimpy bikini; having played together since babyhood there wasn't much they didn't know about each other.

  Tansy reached out her hands to him as he came up. 'Oh. Ruari, I've got so much to tell you! Have you heard that the soldiers have been surveying the plateau?' she asked, speaking English in her haste. 'And they used the boat to take soundings in the harbour.' Her teeth began to chatter, for the island could be cold at night after the sun went down.

  'Yes, yes, I know all this,' Ruari answered. 'But you're shivering. Where are your clothes? You know you shouldn't go swimming alone, Tansy. Here, dry yourself with my shirt.' He pulled off his cotton tee-shirt and handed it to her while they walked along to where she had dropped her clothes.

  'Yes, I know. Thank you for calling me back. I hadn't realised I'd gone so far.'

  'Called you? But I didn't, although I heard someone shout. It was that that brought me to the beach just as you came out of the sea.'

 

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