Full Tide (4 page)

“Pretty Lee,” he said. “One of these days shall have to kiss you. Will you mind?
”

“I might. You can’t go around embracing people just when the mood gets you.”

“I said kiss
you,
not people. Why didn’t I meet you while I was still in England? I’m sure you’d have made me work harder, and I’d have done more than just worm through the exams. You’re the sort of girl my mother would take to. She’s one of those simple women with a rigid code—a bit too rigid for me!—but you’d measure up all right.”

He thrust at the narrow after-door and the wind immediately took their breath. Arms locked, they ran with the tip of the ship and arrived at the rail, panting and laughing.

Except for an elderly man who purposefully marched along the port deck, there
was
no one about. The seas were still high and the wind swept rain over the deck, so that one could not distinguish if it were rain or spray that stung the face. True to his promise that no harm should come to Lisa, Jeremy kept her clamped close to his side, and he talked of many things.

Though their friendship was but a day old, Lisa had learned much about Jeremy. He had lost two older brothers in the war, and though they couldn’t really afford it, his parents had financed Jeremy’s education in England because he was the only one left and they could deny him nothing. Their reward was his cable intimating that he had secured his engineering degree; he had fluffed it the previous year and felt terrible at having to take still more money from them.

“
But it was the only thing to do,” he said now, with the blitheness which was never long absent from his manner. ‘‘To go home a failure was out of the question. I couldn’t
have stood it and neither could they. I haven’t told them about the job in Durban. That will tickle them pink, though it still sounds like hell to me.”

“You’ll settle into it,” she told him. “You must have an engineer’s mind or you couldn’t have got your degree.”

“You’re as comforting as a woolly scarf on a raw day,” he said. “I can’t imagine why some man hasn’t hooked you into a little cottage to warm his slippers and delight his heart. You’d be adorable to come home to, Lee.”

S
he did not take much notice of Jeremy. The wind and rain were so exhilarating, and the sky had those huge clouds which come up from the south-west in England. Her lips tasted salt and her nose and cheeks were faintly pink, but she was not cold. A glorious warmth had a core in the centre of her being.

“Jeremy, have you ever seen Astra Carmichael on the stage?” she asked.

He was not astonished at this turn of the conversation. “Yes, twice, in the
same play. She was at the Captain’s table last night.”

Her smile at him was tinged with curiosity. “You didn’t say.”

He shrugged. “One always regards actresses as glamorous and unreal. I admired her tremendously in the play, and she’s an unerring producer—but in person such
celebrities are disillusioning. She’s not likely to bother with small potatoes like you and me.”

L
isa laughed and described the episode of the yellow tablets. Jeremy was amused.

“Let’s hope like blazes that the thing worked, or she’ll have the merchant navy clamp you in irons. I’d hate to have to spend the rest of the voyage with bars between us.”

P
resently she suggested that they go up to see Snippy and Tubs, the bull mastiffs whose acquaintance she had made this morning, but they found the companion roped off and affixed to the rail was a sign which forbade passengers to go farther. Philosophically, they turned back to the lounge, to be button-holed there by an earnest young man who begged them to attend a meeting for the election of a sports captain and committee at six o’clock. When they
had agreed to be present, Lisa disengaged herself from Jeremy’s firm grasp.

“I mustn’t neglect Nancy. She’s the reason I happen to be on the.
Wentworth
.”

“She’s a nuisance,” he groused amiably. “You’re too conscientious. It beats me how you’ve endured that little sphinz for three years.”

“You say that because Nancy’s femini
n
e yet unmoved by your charm,” she chided him.

“Never mind, so long as you’re a little affected by it,” he said comfortably. “We’re dancing tonight, Lee!”

“In this weather?”

“
The bumps will have evened out by then,” he stated confidently. “We may even have a clear sky and an Italian moon; you know the sort—large and
_;
silver-gilt. It’s not so heady as an African one, but I always think it’s safer for you English to come to
Africa by degre
e
s—particularly when it’s the first time, as with you. I wonder if the band has a crooner?”

“Is that a relevant question?”

“Of course. An Italian moon isn’t half so potent without someone singing
Santa Lucia
in the background. Lisa, my sweet, we are adrift on the everlasting sea.”

That evening she wore the blue frock. It had a shaped bodice and almost invisible straps over the shoulders, and her only ornament was a tiny aquamarine butterfly in her hair. Jeremy groaned and said he didn’t stand a chance with all these naval uniforms about, not to mention a few monied young men among the passengers. She was too sweet by far! Lisa imbibed a grain of salt with his admiration, yet knew she was blossoming. Any girl would expand in such an atmosphere.

J
eremy’s hope for moonlight w
as
not fulfilled, though the seas had abated somewhat and the rain had been left behind. However, too many women still kept to their cabins to make dancing worth while. The quintet played popular classics in the lounge, and people sat around in groups, listening and talking. Old Lord Picton was beetling his brows over a chess board while his opponent, a placid
-
faced missionary, strove to keep boredom from his expression.

L
isa and Jeremy joined two others for a card game, and she became so interested that when the chief deck steward stood beside her, she threw him an absorbed, “Nothing to drink, thanks.”

He bent lower, however. “Pardon me,
madam, Miss Carmichael would like you and Mr.
Carne to come to her table.”

“Oh!”
L
isa cast a swift look towards the end of the lounge, saw Astra sunk within a tall-backed armchair near a low wine-table, and experienced a queer stab of mis
g
iving; for Astra’s companion was Captain Kennard.

Speaking rather fast, she transmitted Astra’s message
t
o the card table. Jeremy and Lisa were excuse
d
, and without any of the haste that quickened her pulses she preceded him, to wreathe among the tables and groups of chairs and finally reach Astra’s secluded corner
.

Mark Kennard was standing. After her escort had been introduced Mark indicated a chair first for
L
isa and then for Jeremy, after which he seated himself and offered
cigarettes.

Unmoving, Astra showed her small even teeth in a smile. “I owe you a spot of gratitude, Miss Maxwell.
Y
our medicine did the trick
.
”

“You were probably on the way to recovery, anyway.
T
hose bouts don’t last for ever,” said the Captain, inhaling
lazily.

Lisa darted him a vexed glance. How like him to belittle her effort. It wasn’t that she
wanted praise or thanks, but he might allow the tablets the credit which was their due; he had probably decided that nothing she did could be really efficient.

The next moment those deep-set, ice-blue eyes rested upon her, a sardonic query in their depths, and she quickly looked away.

“I’m glad you’re better, Miss Carmichael,
”
she said conventionally.

Certainly Astra in black
and silver with the warm brown hair set in burnished waves presented a different picture from the one Lisa had seen earlier in the stateroom. To her mind came a paragraph from a review she had read, in which Astra Carmichael had been described as
a sultry beauty, smouldering her way into men’s hearts— when she was not a winsome girl looking mortally hurt.
“
Only a dynamic actress,
”
the critic
had finished, “could encompass such a part.”

An enigmatic woman, too, thought Lisa. One wouldn’t care to have to compete with her on any plane, but in the field of love there would be no hope at all. One felt instinctively that she knew every answer, every telling trick. “It was Captain Kennard who suggested I might like to meet you, Mr. C
arne
,” Astra was drawling pleasantly, her glance at the young man full of smiling appraisal. “He was right about you. You’re very good-looking.”

Jeremy, himself master of the complimentary phrase, was sufficiently taken by surprise at this frontal attack to redden quite furiously. “Thanks a lot. Kind of you to say so. Decent of the Captain, too.”

“I wasn’
t
being decent,” said Mark, so coolly and cryptically that Lisa felt the little hairs rising on the back of her neck. In his utter lack of emotion this man could be an absolute beast.

However, as Mark had no doubt intended, the implications of the remark passed by the less sensitive Jeremy, who at this moment was gazing at Astra with the candid admiration of a man who is by no means
ignorant about women. “I suppose everyone tells you how much they enjoyed your acting in
Vale of Tears.
I saw the play both at the beginning and at the end of the run and it made a terrific impression on me.”

“Really?” Astra had patently heard it all before. She readjusted her cigarette in its jade holder before adding, “I had an excellent foil in my leading man. You’d be astonished how difficult it is to respond to some actors, particularly the older, seasoned ones; they’re so keen on putting over their own personality. I prefer someone young, whom I can mould into the part myself. Have you done any acting, Mr. Ca
rn
e?”

“I!” he exclaimed blankly. “Good heavens, no.”

Mark Kennard inserted a mild enquiry. “Not even at college? I would have said you were a natural for hero parts.”

Unaccountably Lisa felt bound to put in, “You’ve only just met Jeremy. How can you possibly know that?”

Mark turned to her with elaborate courtesy. “Most people are easy to assess at first meeting. I did the same with you
...
remember?”

Astra’s bright green eyes were upon him. “You’re teasing, Mark, and it’s not seemly in a captain.” To Lisa
s
he said calmly, “There was a time when he treated me that way, too, but over the years we’ve grown beyond it. You, unfortunately, won’t have time to know him at his best—as a human being, I mean, not a sea-captain.
Mr. Carne
,” a brilliant smile at the young man, “or may I call you Jeremy? Well, Jeremy, what about you and your Lisa helping me with my notes for the productions I have to put
o
n in South Africa? I do need some assistance from young people with fresh ideas. I’m sure you’d find it interesting.
”

“You’ll have to count me out,” said
L
isa quickly. “I have a child to look after.”

“Is Nancy still living?
”
queried Mark with sarcasm. “That’s not bad going.
”

It seemed to Lisa that there was a slice of atmosphere between herself and the Captain which crackled electrically. Why an antagonism should have sprung up between Lisa Maxwell and the master of the
Wentworth
was incomprehensible, but it was there, a recurring and unmistakable state of tension.

Mark had continued speaking, though he now addressed Jeremy. “You will put in a few hours with Miss Carmichael, won’t you? She has a trying time ahead of her because in a country like South Africa there will be few first-class actors to choose from. As a matter of fact,” he looked at Astra as if it had only at that moment occurred to him, “you may find
Mr. Carne
just the pupil you’re after. The fans fall hard for a fair, handsome hero.”

The assured blue gaze swerved and flickered over Lisa. He was lining her up with the “fans” and at the same time deriving inward amusement from the reflection that Jeremy could easily be wrested from her side. He wasn’t only aloof and arrogant; he was almost vindictive.

“What a wonderful idea,” said Astra. “I’ll have to think that over.”

Jeremy, apparently, was not to be consulted at this stage. Lisa looked his way and saw that his color had not yet receded. He was practically taken in by all this talk; bemused, perhaps, by Astra’s fame, her expensive perfume and the tantalizing snugness of her frock; her mature curves were very beautiful. Vaguely miserable, Lisa leaned forward to stub out the cigarette she had scarcely smoked.

Mark stood up. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, and moved with a long, careless stride towards the main entrance, and disappeared.

Lisa did not attend very assiduously to the conversation which ensued between Jeremy and Astra Carmichael. It was chiefly about the actress’s other successes in the theatre and the delights she achieved from producing. She was no more conceited than she had a right to be, and it was natural that Jeremy should be enthralled.

He tried to fire Lisa with his own enthusiasm for the sophisticated creature who still lay back in her chair with an indefinable air of helplessness; but it was no good. Lisa craved for the privacy of her bed.

She got to her feet. “You won’t mind if I leave you now?”

On the point of saying “I’ll go with you,” Jeremy paused. He couldn’t very well walk out on Miss Carmichael. “Won’t you wait a little longer, Lee?” he begged.

“I’m rather tired. See you at breakfast, Jeremy. Goodnight, Miss Carmichael.”

Astra murmured something, but it was not permission for Jeremy to accompany Lisa, so after a minute or so he sat down again.

Lisa did not go at once to the cabin. She stepped through one of the doorways on to the deck and crossed to the rail to peer down at the dark, subdued seas. There were
no stars and a
wind still scoured the bulwarks, but something in the air promised warmth. With every second they were sailing sout
h
into more benign waters.

Lisa looked round as the purser passed, and he touched his cap and hesitated. She said, “Goodnight,” and he
passed on, leaving her with the deck to herself. The strains of an overworked Viennese waltz floated around her.

She had noticed that none of the officers came to the public lounge after dinner. They walked and talked with passengers at any time of the day when they happened to
be off duty, and doubtless when there was dancing on
deck they joined in the fun. But only the Captain used the lounge, and he restricted his visits to a single hour after dinner, when he made himself pleasant to a passenger here and there. He seemed to have met
s
everal of them on previous voyages. Lisa got the impression that he unbent simply from a sense of duty. Even if he enjoyed Astra’s company it would appear odd if he sat with her each evening, and Lisa was convinced that Captain Kennard would avoid committing the smallest act which might be misconstrued.

She supposed the sea had hardened him; the sea and
his
position as head of the litt
l
e world of his ship. It seemed natural that a man of
hi
s sort would outgrow emotionalism, but it was all wrong that mockery and sarcasm should be permitted to take its place. Men of the sea married and had families; they were kindly and had pictures of their wives and children in their cabins. No one had told her that Captain Kennard was unmarried, but she
knew it intuitively; knew, too, that he had no time for the tender type of woman, no time for love.

Lisa pulled up in her thoughts. The Captain’s private
life was no concern of hers.

She wandered slowly up the deck, out of the brilliantly-lit section near the lounge into the region of the bows. Now, the strong headwind whipped at her short hair and sent delightful shivers across her shoulders. She didn
’t
hear a step behind her, but the wind subtracted nothing from the firm voice.

“I thought a butterfly had lost its way and settled on deck for a breather. You look as if the breeze could easily lift you over the side.”

Her heart distinctly missed three beats, then hurried to make up for the loss. “I’m quite
a solid person, really more so than you think, Captain.”

He came beside her with his hands in his pockets, his square, disciplined shoulders level with her eyes. “I shan’t believe
that without proof,” he said. “Has Jeremy forsaken you?”

Something stirred within Lisa, something which had in it only a small spark of hostility towards this man; for the rest it was an uneasy complexity of sensations, and completely incomprehensible. “You meant him to, didn’t you?” she asked. “You set out to show me that shipboard affairs are fleeting, that he could easily be diverted to other channels.”

“Clever child. But don’t worry about losing Jeremy. We have several more like him, and you may as well lend your sympathetic ear to a different story now and then. They’re apt to become awfully boring otherwise.”

“It’s kind of you to take such a paternal interest,” she said demurely. “Is that part of the ship’s service?”

“Not exactly. Normally we allow young things to break their hearts without interfering, but
y
ou strike me as having fewer defences than most, and possibly your heart is correspondingly fragile.” He shrugged away the subject. “Seeing that this is your first trip I expect you’re looking forward to the Canaries?”

“Yes, I am. When do we reach Las Palmas?”

“On Tuesday—probably early in
the afternoon. If you’re keen to look over the place you’d better go for one of the conducted tours. The purser will tell you all about them; in fact, he might be pleased to take you himself. I believe he has a way with the ladies.”

She gave him a curious, slanting glance. “Do you allow that, on your ship?”

“Why not? The purser is entitled to relaxation, and the merchant navy is always accommodating.” On the same slightly jeering note he added, “Even the pimply purser’s clerk has more about him than the Jeremy Carnes of this world. Young as he is, he’s been places and seen things.”

“And
you’ve
seen so much more,” she said steadily. “I daresay that’s why you make people like me feel awfully insignificant.”

“I was referring to men,” he told her, a trifle brusquely. “What one approves in a man one often condemns in a
woman. After all, the sexes haven’t everything in common.”

Defending her contemporaries rather hotly, Lisa said,
“My generation of women has had to be self-reliant. Even you of the navy were thankful for the regiments of women during the war.”

“You’re mixing your services,” he mentioned
kindly.
“But never mind—you’re well intentioned, and I do like to hear a girl stick up for her sisters. To ease your mind,
I’ve the utmost respect for a woman who follows a career.
I’d even go so far as to say they make the best wives, too.”

For some reason Lisa found this unpalatable. She let a minute or two elapse while she listened, not v
e
ry attentively, to the wash of the sea against the speeding ship’s side. Then she said, firmly, “I don’t agree with you. The career woman gives only half of herself to her husband and home. She can’t help it, of course, but I shouldn
’
t think any man would genuinely want that.
”

“Perhaps,” he said in those infuriatingly considerate tones which made her feel about sixteen, “I regard the question solely from the seafaring man’s viewpoint.
Obviously, if three parts of a man’s life is spent at sea his wife must have some absorbing interest outside her home.
Children alone aren’t enough for
an intelligent
woman
.”

“When he is home,” she argued stoically, “he needs her
mo
re than other men need their wives. But you can’t drop a career and become an ever-present and loving helpmeet every couple of months.”

“My good girl,” he answered amusedly, “you have the
q
uaintest old-fashioned notions. Why should the
woman
drop her work every time the husband shows up for a few days? I, personally, shouldn’t know what to do with a loving helpmeet, and I doubt if there are many sea-going men who would. We’re horribly sane, you know. You can’t fight big seas
on periodical doses of romance; in fact
they might be a definite hindrance.”

“Then you’d prefer to have your staff and crew only half alive,” she retorted bravely. “Because
that’s
w
h
at it amounts to.
”