They Met in Zanzibar (20 page)

“Never mind the boys.” He came farther into the room, paused at the foot of the bed, looking rather larger than life in the white shirt and dark trousers. “What made you suddenly decide you’d like to go away alone?”

“It’s not sudden.” Her left hand rubbed over her right forearm, and she saw the gleam of the gold band on her finger. “We ... we made a mistake, didn’t we? Our sort of marriage doesn’t
... work out.”

“It worked well - until you were fit. With a change here and there it could go on working well.”

“I’ve come to the conclusion that neither of us really wants it.”

“
Don’t make any conclusions for me; I’ll make my own.” He pushed his hands into his pockets. “Earlier this evening you said I’m a long way away. By that, I suppose you meant that I’m not like I used to be when you lived with your father; actually I’m no different - not a bit. You might take that in before we go further.”

With quick, nervous movements she stubbed out the cigarette. “I can’t help it if I don’t feel right about things. I shouldn’t have married you - I know that. I clung to you because I was alone and needed someone strong. I blame myself.”

“That’s an easy get-out,” he said grimly. “Wallowing in self-accusation won’t really get you anywhere. The very last thing I want is to hurt you, but when you start talking as you have done this evening, we just have to go through to the end.” He paused, and then asked heavily, “What sort of marriage did you expect this to turn into, after you were well? It couldn’t possibly have stayed the way it was at the beginning.”

“I didn’t think ahead, but I suppose I expected some ... some natural feeling to develop the relationship for us.”

“That was sense, anyway. What came next? Did you discover that you have no natural feeling for me
?
”

“Steve, of course not!” she said quickly. “No one else could have done for me what you
did...”

“I’m not interested in gratitude.”

“Gratitude comes into it - it has to.” She looked across the foot of the bed at him, her eyes large and pleading. “We don’t have to go into it like this. We each know how we feel, the things that are missing. If I could go away - just for a while - we’d come together again, perhaps,
and
...”

“Perhaps being the operative word,” he said curtly. “This is the last thing I expected from you - do you know that? I thought you had the pluck to stick it out till we’d found a good way to live.”

She lowered her head and said thinly, “I don’t want half a marriage any more than you do. At the moment I don’t think I want marriage at all. I want to be free to get back to the sort of person I used to be, and I’m afraid it can never happen here in your house. I’m too ... hemmed in.”

There was no hardness in his voice, but no sound of compromise, either. He moved slightly, into shadow. “Something went wrong just before we were married, didn’t it? I’ve never asked you what it was because I didn’t want to upset you, but you can stand a spot of disturbance now. What was it, Peg?”

She quivered, but not noticeably. Tell him about Lynette Foster’s visit on the morning of her wedding? A day or two ago she might have been able to do it. Now, with Lynette’s letter somewhere in the house and Steve saying nothing whatever about
it...
well, she just couldn’t talk about the woman.

But she asked him, “Did they tell you about my mother’s vase being broken?”

He nodded. “It was a pity, but that’s always a risk with fragile things. Not asking me to believe a shattered vase altered your life, are you?”

“No. I don’t know why I mentioned it.”

“I think I know why.”

She looked up quickly, her heart jumping. “You do?” she whispered.

He drew in his
li
p, and she saw that his eyes were narrow and g
li
ttered a
li
ttle. “The vase was part of your old life in the Kentish cottage. You’ve been hankering for everything past, simply because you don’t want to face the future. Tell me, how often do you think of Paul Lexfield these days?”

“Not often.” She’d answered before she realised the question was a trap. It was no use hurrying to correct herself; far wiser to elaborate a little. “I’d naturally think of him occasionally. I treated him so badly that it’s on my conscience, and I’ve thought once or twice that I ought to write and explain to him. I think he’d understand.”

But the swift enlargement upon the matter did no good at all. Steve had stiffened and his eyes were dark and brilliant. “So that’s it. You’ve been wondering how much sweeter marriage would have been with big brother Paul! Well, you can stop wondering. Even if you told me point blank that you’re in love with him and could never love me, I wouldn’t give you your freedom.
You can’t have your freedom.
Do you understand?”

She was cold and trembling, but her brain seemed suddenly very clear. “Yes, I understand,” she said in brittle tones. “You’ve just taken a new important job with a company that wants you married. They happen to be a wee bit old-fashioned, and frown upon divorce ... or even annulment. That wouldn’t do for their top man in Motu. You had several reasons for marrying me, Steve, but that was the most important, or perhaps the second most important. I’m right, aren’t I
?
”

“This is the limit,” he said through his teeth. “You admit to worrying about Paul Lexfield, ask me to let you go away, and to top things off you fling my job at me! If I hadn’t found you, down on the beach in the dark and determined that we’d have a talk, all this would have been seething in your mind without my knowledge. What in the world has got into you?”

Her hands clenched at her sides, her chin went up. “I’ll tell you I’ve recovered from all the trouble and I’m capable of planning my own life. I can’t go on the way we are. It isn’t ... normal, and it makes us both wary and unhappy. Maybe it’s different for you because you have a new demanding job on your hands. I don’t know.” She choked on the last word. “All I know is that I can’t stand it. I meant to, because you’ve been so good to me, but I find I can’t. If there were any hope for us I’d try to go on, but there’s none. I’m an all or nothing person - you know that. I
have
to leave you.”

“You’re not leaving,” he clipped out. He gave a brief, bitter laugh, and a muscle jerked in his jaw. “Do you know why I insisted we talk this out tonight? I’ve had word today that the managing director of the company is coming here from Singapore with a new liaison man - to introduce him to all the men here. The managing director is bringing his wife, and I hoped you and I would ... understand each other before they came.”

She swallowed. “I think we do.”

“Not the way I meant it. You’re my wife, Peg - there’s no sidestepping that. But when a man has a wife who doesn’t entirely belong to him he gets sensitive about certain things. Know what I’m getting at?”

A cold sweat shone at her brow and her breathing became difficult. He didn’t seem to have moved, but he was nearer.

“Yes, I know,” she said hoarsely. “You want me to be the happy little wife entertaining the big shots. I can put on an act if necessary.”

“You can’t be what you aren’t,” he said, a thickness in his voice.

He didn’t move towards Peg but towards the door. The key snicked in the lock and was tossed across the room. For a long moment he stared at her white face and slim figure in pastel blue pyjamas. Then he took a couple of strides and hauled her tightly into his arms.

CHAPTER NINE

For t
hree days, the house was almost silent. Peg’s vibrant nerves set
tl
ed down till she felt only a vast desolation. She and Steve went through the days hating each other, making a cool remark or two, poles apart. Night came, Peg locked her door, and Steve didn’t even call goodnight. No one came to the house except Netta Fellowes, and she was so full of the imminent visit of George Templeton, the managing director of the company, his wife and the new liaison officers, that Peg would have had to stand on her head or scream hysterically to shake Netta into aware
n
ess of anything else.

On the fourth day the Templetons and Mr. Ballard arrived. Steve said,
a
t lunch-time, “They’re due at three. You might be ready to go with me at two-thirty.” And Peg duly got herself up in the pink linen with a white hat and shoes, and took her place in the car beside him. Wordless, they drove to the airstrip.

The plane touched down, greetings were exchanged, a word of welcome spoken. The visitors were to stay at the Motu Club, and there all five of them had tea and polite conversation.

Mrs. Templeton, a slim fading blonde, was quite charmed with the island; her husband had seen it before. She was also surprised and pleased with Peg.

“I’m glad you’ve settled in without trouble. Most of our men marry girls who’ve done some of their growing up out here, and George and I were rather curious when we heard that you only arrived on Motu a few months ago. For Steve’s sake, I do hope you’ll be happy here.”

Peg smiled, as was expected. Knowing that Steve was listening to her conversation as well as carrying on his own, she said very little. The Templetons would be here only three days, and for that length of time it would be easy to nod and smile and say almost no
thing.

There was a dinner that night for all the planters and some of the government officers at the club. The Templetons were host and hostess, and
M
r. Ballard was presented to everyone; as liaison officer he would have to know as much as possible about the
running
of the plantations and most of the men were anxious to help him.

For their final night the Templetons decided to be quiet. Why, yes, they’d love to have dinner with Steve and Peg. Ballard would be with McTeale for the whole day, so it would be just the four of them. Lovely!

It is amazing how much social life can be carried on without speech. It was Steve who spoke the invitation, and Peg took her cue. Next morning she instructed Melai and Nosoap, and when evening came, she set the table herself, between taking a bath and getting dressed. She put on a new pale blue silk made by the island woman who had so quickly completed her wedding dress. Used pink lipstick and a trace of eyeshadow, and came into the living-room as Steve was welcoming the guests.

Mrs. Templeton looked about her. “This is a splendid house, Steve. You’ll hate to leave it when we build you a new one.”

Her husband smiled. “Beth always identifies herself with the Company - have you noticed it? It’s been the blessing of my life, her interest in our personnel and the way we run the business. You’ll have to train your wife the same way, Steve.”

“They’re that way inclined, or they aren’t,” said Steve casually. “What will you have, Mrs. Templeton?”

It wasn’t a gruelling evening.
M
rs
.
Templeton was talkative and still quite curious about Motu. Neither she nor her husband seemed to know that Peg was the daughter of the man who had refused to sell his plantation, but Peg rather thought that the man, at least, had heard it and decided to forget it. The dinner went off well, they sat on the terrace with coffee and brandy, and towards eleven Steve poured whisky.

It was over the nightcap that George Templeton said, “We want you to come to Singapore for a couple of weeks, Steve. It’s company policy to have personal contact with senior executives, and with things here going ahead very fast, it would be best for you to come soon. Within a week, I should say.”

“You mentioned it when you were here before,” Steve
said. “I’ll have to arrange about a plane; They have two civil aircraft now, and I believe they’re going to offer a monthly passenger service to the company.”

“Glad to hear it.” Templeton thought for a moment. “You couldn’t leave with us tomorrow, I suppose - you and your wife?”

Peg felt her heart go still, as if it were listening.

“My wife?” Steve said.

“Well, of course!” exclaimed Mrs. Templeton. “You two didn’t get away for a honeymoon, and this will be a marvellous opportunity to get one in. Except for a few business contacts you’ll be free in Singapore to do as you like. You’ll enjoy it, Peg!”

Peg didn’t have to reply. Steve did that, smoothly.

“I can’t leave so suddenly, particularly as McTeale is taken up with putting Ballard wise about things. Let’s say about a week from now.”

“And you’ll bring Peg
?
”

“It’s very unlikely. She was concussed some time ago
and a plane trip could easily bring on a bad head.”

It was many weeks since she’d had a headache, but Peg said nothing.

“Get Dr. Passfield’s opinion,” said George Templeton. “The Singapore directors like to meet the wife too, you know. Gives a rounded picture of a man. I must say Mrs. Cortland looks very fit. Pale, perhaps, but that’s the climate.”

Steve drove them back to the Club, and Peg went to bed. Dutifully, next day, she was at the airstrip, smiling a good deal and wishing the Templetons a good trip.

Mrs. Templeton said “I’m looking forward to seeing you in Singapore, Peg - particularly as it will be quite new to you. We have a large house and I’d like you to stay with us, but I honestly believe you’d have more fun at
the
hotel. For me, Raffles Square never loses its fascination. Anyway, you could go there first, and if you find the centre of town oppressive, come out to us. We’d love to have you!”