Sunset

by Christopher Nicole

  'Oh, I don't go barefoot any more,' she said. 'And that terrible boy Alan McAvoy wanted to fight with you, and ruined my hat.'

  'Yes,' he said. 'My word, yes. I'd forgotten.'

  'And my cousin arrived,' Meg said grimly, gazing at the sheep. How many kids or lambs had been stolen this past year, she wondered.

  'Oh, yes. Quite a momentous occasion, wasn't it?' He brooded at the grass. 'Why did you quarrel with her, Meg? I don't mean to pry, of course

  'She wanted me to marry a lord,' Meg said.

  'A lord? My word.'

  'Well, he would have become a lord,' Meg explained. 'When his father died.'

  'Ah. Yes. I say, why didn't you?'

  'Because I didn't love him.' Meg swung her hand; her knuckles brushed against Billy's.

  'Ah. What a splendid way to look at it. I mean, a lord ... you'd have been Lady ... ?'

  'Claymond. But I don't want to be Lady Claymond. In the first place, I will never change my name from Hilton. And in the second place, when I marry, it shall be for love.'

  'Oh, I say,' Billy said. But he didn't, actually, say anything more, and for a while they walked in silence. The Grandstand came in sight. It looked even more decrepit than she remembered, and the grass was even longer.

  'Anyway,' she said, 'the man I marry must know Jamaica, and planting ... although,' she hastily added, 'it isn't really necessary for him to know all that much about planting, because, as your dad said, I will be able to guide him. But he must know Jamaica. And how to deal with black people. And all that sort of thing.'

  'Oh, I say,' Billy said again. 'But you are quite right. Only Jamaicans can know about Jamaica.'

  'And,' Meg went on, 'it must be someone I know and who knows me. Someone I can trust. Because he will be the real Master of Hilltop, you see.'

  'Master of Hilltop,' Billy murmured, standing at the sagging gate to the paddock and looking around him.

  And Meg suddenly remembered her last words to him, before boarding the Roddam. Oh, my God, she thought. But she was not going to give up at this stage.

  'He will also have to be master of me,' she said.

  ‘Oh, I say ...'

  'And all of my scandals.' Meg forced a smile. 'Actually, you know, there wasn't any scandal, really.' 'Oh, I know about that.' 'You do?'

  'Yes, well... John Phillips and Dad are great pals, really, and, well...'

  Oh, damnation, Meg thought. And yet, if it had been an unnecessary embarrassment, it at least proved that the fact of her having spent a night in the mountains hadn't actually put him off her. 'You'll see better from the upper level,' she said, wondering just what would be required actually to make him propose. But a glimpse of stocking might help.

  She climbed the steps, and they creaked.

  'Be careful,' Billy called. But he was looking up. Meg hoisted her skirts a bit higher, gained the first floor, and discovered she was panting. There was another tier above, where the family boxes, and those of their most distinguished guests, had been situated in the old days. She had never ventured up there before, because that floor had gaping holes in it where the wood had sagged right away. And the stairs wobbled even when she leaned against them. She began to climb, skirts pulled to her knees in her left hand, right hand grasping the shaking bannister.

  'Oh, I say.' Billy hastened up the lower stairs, checked as a board creaked. 'Do be careful, Meggie.'

  She would have to break him of that habit, for a start. 'It's all right, really. Up you come.'

  'I'm heavier than you,' he said doubtfully.

  Meg sighed. She had reached the upper level. She wouldn't risk the floor, but remained at the top of the step, letting her skirts blow, now, because the evening breeze had freshened, and was taking her hair as well; she had not bothered to put her turban on after tea. 'The view is stupendous. You can see everything. Even the bananas.'

  'Oh, I say. Can you?' Billy tested the first step.

  'The thing is,' Meg said, looking down and encountering his gaze coming up. She spread her legs, standing astride, almost immediately above his head, holding on to the bannister with both hands. 'He would also have to change his name to Hilton.'

  'Eh?'

  'I promised Daddy.' Well, she thought, I would have promised Daddy, if he'd asked me. 'The Hilton name mustn't die, and I'm the very last. My only cousins are girls.'

  'Oh, I say.' Billy was panting, and taking his steps very carefully, testing each one before allowing his weight on to it. He was also handicapped because he could not stop himself looking up.

  'But that shouldn't be very important to the man who would be Master of Hilltop,' Meg said thoughtfully, and slipped. She thrust her right foot one way, her left foot the other, and scattered down the first three steps. When she was sure that he could reach her she released the bannisters and landed beside him with a thump which was followed by a dreadful cracking noise. 'Oh, my God,' she screamed. She hadn't intended anything quite as dramatic as that.

  'Hold on,' Billy bawled, holding on to the bannister instead of her, she discovered to her dismay. But at least she wasn't falling, although she had certainly sunk, and when she tried to move she discovered she was gripped, at once underneath her thighs and in the small of her back.

  'Meg?' Billy had ascertained that the bannister had stopped moving. 'Are you all right ?'

  'My bottom is stuck.'

  'Your ... let me help you.' He held her wrists, and pulled.

  'Ow. Stop it.'

  He released her. 'But, you can't just stay there.' 'How far up are we ?'

  Billy looked down. 'About five feet from the next floor.'

  'Well, then, go down and push.'

  'Push? Oh, I say ... well, I couldn't.'

  'Yes you can,' she insisted crossly. 'I am asking you to, so that is quite all right.'

  'Oh. I suppose you're right.' Billy went down the stairs, disappeared underneath. 'Are you ready?' His voice drifted up to her.

  'Just a moment.' She grasped the bannisters. 'Yes.'

  There was a moment's hesitation, then she felt his fingers gripping her bottom. 'Here goes,' he said.

  His hands pushed, and she pulled, and felt herself coming free. But she didn't want it to happen too quickly; she presumed she might as well take advantage of even a mishap like this. She allowed herself to sag backwards, and he gave a grunt, and now she could feel his fingers; one hand had slipped between her legs.

  'Once more,' she said

  'Oh, Lord,' he groaned, but pushed again, and this time she allowed herself to come free in a rush, and kept on going, down the stairs, to meet him at the foot. 'Oh Meg.' His face was crimson. 'Are you all right?'

  'A little shaken.' Her own face was burning. She leaned against him, and after another brief hesitation felt his arms go round her. 'That was awfully gallant of you, Billy. I knew I could depend on you.'

  'Yes, well ...' His fingers tightened on her shoulders, slipped into the small of her back. She had a deal of teaching to do here as well, she supposed. But teaching Billy might be amusing. 'Meg...'

  'Yes,' she said. 'Oh, yes, yes, yes.'

  'I mean, will you marry me, Meg? Supposing Father will give his permission.'

  'Yes,' she said. 'Yes, yes, yes.'

  'Well,' remarked Walter Reynolds. 'Well, I do declare.' But he was obviously delighted. Meg and Billy stood before him, holding hands. Billy had wanted to stay at the Racecourse,

  and do a little more than hold hands, but Meg had refused. She did not want to be disappointed before she was married, and if it was a case of educating Billy, that too would be far better done in the comfort and privacy of their own bedroom, with no one in the world possessing the right to interrupt them or criticize them. 'What do you think, Helen?'

  Helen McAvoy forced a smile; poor woman, Meg thought, she also must have hoped for Alan. 'I think it is a marvellous idea, Walt.'

  'Oh, thank you,' Meg said. 'Can it be soon? Right away?' 'Oh, no, no,' Walter Reynolds said. 'It wouldn't be right.'

/>   'Your father has been dead only a week, Meg,' Helen said. 'You'll have to wait at least six months.' 'Six months ?' she cried.

  ‘I’ll be twenty-one,' Billy remarked, perhaps to himself.

  'Six months,' Walter Reynolds said. 'There is a good time for an engagement. It will give us time to have things prepared, eh?'

  'Of course,' Helen agreed. 'You have returned without any clothes. Well, we will be able to have yours sent out from England, I have no doubt, yet will you need a great many more, and then there are the details to be seen to ...'

  'Six months,' Meg muttered. But there was no need for that to be a disaster. 'And Billy will be twenty-one, Uncle Walt. So it will not be necessary to hire an attorney to manage the plantation. Billy and I will do it.'

  'Bless my soul.' Once again Walter Reynolds looked at Helen.

  'Well,' she said, 'I am sure Harry would be happy to look after things for that short period.'

  'That would be splendid,' Meg said. 'Because of course we shall need all of his experience to set us off on the right track, won't we Billy?'

  She squeezed his hand.

  'Eh?' He seemed to awaken from a reverie. 'Oh, yes, indeed, Father. I'm going to be a planter. I'm going to be a Hilton.' 'Eh?'

  'Well...' Meg licked her lips. She would have preferred that piece of news to have been broken more tactfully. 'It was what Father would have wished. There will be no Hiltons after me.'

  'My word.' Walter Reynolds stared at Helen.

  'It'll be easy enough,' Billy said. 'We can look after it at the office. Billy Hilton. William Hilton. There has never been a William Hilton. It has a ring to it.'

  'Yes, well...' Walter Reynolds still looked as if he'd been sandbagged. 'You do understand that Billy, or whoever you married, Meg, can only be your attorney until you are twenty-one.' He was looking at his son. 'You do not inherit until then, and I have no power, in fact, I am specifically forbidden by the terms of your father's will to assign the ownership of the plantation or even to admit a second party to joint ownership.'

  'I don't mind being Meg's attorney for three years, Father,' Billy said.

  'And it's only three years, Uncle Walt,' Meg said. 'Then I can do as I like.'

  'Yes, well ...' Walter Reynolds was frowning, having noted the ambiguity of her words.

  'Well,' Helen said brightly. 'I'm sure there is a lot to be done...'

  'Oriole,' Meg said, determined to leave nothing to chance. 'I don't want to see her, Aunt Helen. Really and truly.'

  'Not see her? But my dear child ...'

  'She is almost certainly on her way now,' Meg said. 'And even if our engagement is announced by the time she arrives, she will be quite impossible.' She gave Billy's hand another squeeze. 'I told her I wanted to marry Billy, when she was trying to get me engaged to some ghastly Englishman, and she wouldn't have it.'

  'Bless my soul,' Walter Reynolds remarked. 'What could she have against Billy?'

  'She had some very odd ideas,' Helen agreed.

  'So I don't want her talking at me, bullying me, badgering me,' Meg said. 'I know she'll try. I know it.'

  'She won't have the chance,' Walter Reynolds said. 'You may leave that to me. Bless my soul. So much to be done. The reception...'

  'Will be held at the Great House,' Meg said.

  'Eh? But...'

  'We have six months,' Meg said. 'If the women started now, they could have that place entirely habitable in six weeks. And we are going to live there, eh, Billy?'

  Again the squeeze. But Billy seemed to have at last woken up to the realization of just what had happened.

  'Oh, indeed we are,' he said. 'Hiltons don't live in bungalows.'

  'My word,' Walter Reynolds said.

  'I think that is an excellent idea, Walt,' Helen said. 'It is a terrible shame, having that great ... house, just sitting there, mouldering.'

  Meg wondered if she had baulked on the word mausoleum.

  'Oh, indeed,' Walter Reynolds said. 'Mind you, it will cost a great deal.'

  'Surely we can spend a little on Meg Hilton's wedding, Walt,' Helen said.

  'Oh, yes, yes indeed. I suppose we can. So much to be done. My word ...' He peered at his hunter. 'How late it is. My word. We must be getting back to town. My word.'

  Meg wondered if he was suffering from shock.

  'Well ...' Billy turned to face her, and held her other hand. 'Well... I do love you, Meggie. So very much.'

  'And I love you, Billy,' she promised herself, and kissed him on the mouth. Perhaps he hadn't expected that; his lips never parted.

  'I suppose I had better kiss you too, Meg,' Walter Reynolds said, 'as I am to be your father-in-law. My word. If only Patricia had lived for this day.'

  Meg stood on the front porch and waved them out of sight with her handkerchief. Don't stop to think, she kept telling herself. It is a decision, an essential decision, to gain your freedom, and to guarantee that you keep your freedom. To make Meg Hilton a real human being, for the first time. To guarantee the future, and the future prosperity, of Hilltop.

  As for Billy, he loved, and there was sufficient for the moment. All things were possible, where a man loved.

  'Meg’ Helen threw an arm round her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. 'I am so happy for you, Meg. So very happy.'

  'Thank you, Aunt Helen. I am so very happy for myself.' Meg allowed herself to be escorted inside.

  'But there is, really, so very much to be done,' Helen said. 'Six months will prove a very short while. We will go into town tomorrow and arrange for a dressmaker... I know the very woman, not cheap, mind, but the best. And then we shall have to discuss the catering and ...'

  'And we shall have to arrange for a start to be made on cleaning up the Great House.'

  'Of course, and we shall have...' She gazed at Meg with her mouth open. 'But first of all, we have to choose the date.'

  'As soon as possible,' Meg said. 'I know, we could be married on Billy's twenty-first birthday.'

  'Oh, really, Meg, that would cause a fuss, and there is going to be enough of a fuss already. Any way, whether or not depends, well, on your dates.'

  'My dates?'

  'Well, your period. You can't possibly go on a honeymoon if your period is about to occur. We shall have to work it out, as exactly as we can. Now, when was your last ?' She sat at her desk with a pencil poised over a sheet of paper.

  While Meg stared at her in total consternation. She had just remembered that she had not menstruated at all in the three weeks since leaving England, and not for two weeks before that.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE WIFE

  'AMAZING,' said Mrs Mottram.

  'Scandalous, you mean,' said Mrs Holroyd.

  Their voices were lost in the general hum of whispers, and in any event they were seated at the very back of the huge withdrawing room.

  'Mind you,' said Mrs Mottram, 'it is quite exciting, at last getting inside here. Do you know, my grandmother used to tell me stories of entertainments here when Richard Hilton the Elder was alive.'

  'Scandalous,' Mrs Holroyd said. 'He had a French wife.'

  'That's right, a pretty little thing called Cartarette. Do you know, according to my grandmother, he won her as a slave while fighting for the niggers in Haiti.'

  'Scandalous,' said Mrs Holroyd.

  'But of course, all the Hiltons were like that.'

  'Are like that,' Mrs Holroyd pointed out. 'Scandalous.'

  'Oh, indeed. And now, to get married within two months of her father's death. Do you know, they were saying she only waited for the house to be redecorated. It is a magnificent place, isn't it?'

  'Scandalous,' said Mrs Holroyd. 'Built with pirate money. That's all the Hiltons were in the beginning, you know. Pirates.'

  'Buccaneers,' Mrs Mottram said thoughtfully. As a shipping agent her husband handled a good deal of Hilltop business.

  'Scandalous,' Mrs Holroyd observed. 'And what about this cousin? Coming all the way from England, and returning on t
he very next boat? Do you know, my housekeeper tells me she and Margaret Hilton were heard shouting at each other in her hotel room.'

  'Well, I'm not surprised. A Hilton, marrying a Reynolds? Even if he has changed his name. The family must be ... well, horrified.'

  'Scandalized,' said Mrs Holroyd. 'And now they say she is going to manage Hilltop herself. A chit of a girl, only just eighteen years old. Quite scandalous.'

  'Sssssh,' Mrs Mottram suggested, as the music began, played on the Hilton grand piano. Billy and his best man, an architect named Roger Piatt, were on their feet, half facing the archway to the hall, through which Meg could see them as she reached the foot of the stairs and prepared to turn into the drawing room. She stopped, both because she was surrounded by the maids and men servants, dressed in their best, the men in white with brass buttons, the women with freshly laundered white turbans on their heads, and because her knees would suddenly take her no further.

  No doubt she would have been over excited in any event, she supposed. Quite apart from the fact of the wedding, this was the first time she had ever actually dressed in the Great House; Helen had insisted she remain in the compound until today, perhaps out of superstition, perhaps because she was afraid to let her charge out of her sight.

  For that matter, Meg wasn't at all sure she wanted to be out of Helen's sight. But it was about to happen. She had only seen Billy once in the past month, since, indeed, Helen had decided there was no question about the situation, and had brought John Phillips out to examine her. Then she had gone to visit Walter Reynolds to arrange for the wedding to be brought forward. She had never told Meg what had taken place at that meeting, but Walter Reynolds had promptly arranged a reception to announce the change in plans, at which he had been courtesy itself, although she and Billy had not been allowed a moment together.

  He had smiled at her as he had put the diamond solitaire on her finger. With his eyes as well as his mouth ? It was impossible to say. And when she had squeezed his hand there had been no response. Yet Walter Reynolds had been more cheerful than ever. 'Well, he would be,' Helen had said. 'Miss the chance of marrying a Hilton ? He'd need his head examined. Although .. . he'd be a lot happier if he knew who ... well, whose child it is likely to be.' She had gazed at Meg, and Meg had shaken her head. And Helen had sighed. 'Of course, a great deal of scandal, a great deal of possible, well ... unpleasantness, even, would be saved were you to ... well... lose the child.'