The Secret Woman (27 page)

“I hope nothing disastrous. But it's comforting to know that if we want to return you will take us. I shall tell Chantel this.”

“I think she will certainly want to come back. I could see you there, Anna, in certain circumstances, but not Nurse Loman.”

“At least we shall be interested to see the Island.”

“It's beautiful. Lush foliage, surf breaking on sandy beaches; palm trees swaying slightly in the soft breezes, and the clear sea blue as sapphires and green as emerald lapping the golden sands.”

“And when you get back to England what shall you do?”

“Stay a few days before I set out again.”

“For the same voyage?”

“So much depends on what cargoes we have to carry. One thing I shall do is go to Queen's House and say ‘I have come on behalf of Miss Brett, the owner, who has asked me to call and see how you are getting on here.' I shall stand in the garden as I did on that damp autumn night. And I shall stand in the hall and think of that night which changed everything in my life, and changed me too.”

“Did it?”

“Oh yes, it did. Indeed it did. I wanted something different from life after that.”

“What had you wanted before?”

“Adventure! Change! Danger! Excitement! But after that night I grew up. I wanted to be with one person. Before, I had always believed that I would never want to be with one person for more than a limited span. I was seeking perpetual excitement. I needed continual stimulation which only novelty could give. I grew up that night. I knew what life was about. I saw myself living there, in that house. The lawn with a table under a brightly colored sunshade and a woman sitting under it with a china teapot pouring tea into blue china cups. And perhaps a dog lying there—a golden retriever—and children, laughing and playing. I saw it all clearly as something that I wanted and I never had wanted before. I shouldn't speak of this, should I? But there is something in the air tonight. Here we are sailing close to the Australian coast. Can you see the lights over there? We are very close to land. And it's summertime and…there is nothing so soothing as tropical nights at sea, because then you believe that anything could happen. But perhaps there are other places, like the garden of the Queen's House. And sometimes I tell myself that that night there I saw a vision and one day that table with sunshade will be there, and I'll be there.”

I said: “It can't be. It was already too late when you came. I don't think you should be talking in this way and I don't think I should be listening.”

“But I am and you are.”

“Which shows how wrong we are.”

“We are human,” he said.

“But it's no good. It's no use saying what might have been, when something has happened to prevent it.”

“Anna…”

I knew what he meant. It was Wait. It could so easily happen. And these are dangerous thoughts. We were separated and while Monique lived his dream—and mine—could never come true.

I wanted to explain to him that we must not think of this because to think of it was to desire it with a passion that could only be sinful.

I thought I must not be with him alone again. He was a man of deep and urgent needs. I knew that. He had not lived the life of a monk and I feared for him…and myself.

It was too late. I must make this clear to him.

We were in danger of wishing the way was clear for us.

“It's getting late,” I said. “I must go in.”

He was silent for a few seconds and when he spoke his voice was as calm as my own.

“We shall sail into the harbor tomorrow. You should come up to the bridge for the best view. You must see the entire harbor in one view. I can assure you it is well worthwhile. Monique will be up there if she is well enough and Nurse Loman must come. Edward will want to be there too.”

“Thank you. I'll enjoy that.”

“Good night,” he said.

“Good night.”

And as I turned away I thought I heard him say “My love.”

It was a glorious morning; the sun beat down on the decks as slowly we sailed into the harbor—grand, impressive, and beautiful beyond my imaginings. The description I had read of it “the finest harbor in the world in which a thousand sail of the line may ride in the most perfect security” was surely true. It was indeed a sight to take the breath away—the many coves and inlets, the magnificent Heads through which we must pass; the trees, the flowers, the birds, and the gloriously blue sea.

Even Edward was silent and I wondered whether he was thinking as I was—for I had taken the opportunity to give him a history lesson—of the arrival of the First Fleet a hundred years ago. It must have looked a little different then. There would have been no houses, no town, only miles of uncultivated land, and beautifully plumaged birds swooping over a dazzling sea.

Chantel stood with us, subdued too by that magnificent spectacle; or was it partly due to the fact that she must now say good-bye to Rex? We did not see Redvers who was of course on duty; there were just the three of us alone up there.

It was two hours later when we had come into Circular Quay; there was the usual bustle. Edward and I went to our cabin, Chantel went to hers. My thoughts were of Chantel. I thought: Now I shall know the true state of her feelings, for surely if she loves him she will not be able to hide it from me.

Monique was a little better. The excitement of arriving at Sydney had done her good. She had dressed and Chantel had told me she was with the Captain. Certain people would come aboard and be entertained here, she believed, and the Captain's wife, since she was on board, would be expected to do certain honors.

A steward came down and asked that Edward be taken up to the Captain's cabin.

I took him up and when I arrived and knocked at the door it was opened by Rex.

He smiled at me and said: “Oh, here's Edward. Thank you, Miss Brett.”

I caught a glimpse of Redvers and an elderly man with a youngish woman—in her mid-twenties, I guessed.

I went back to my cabin. Chantel was there, studying her face in my looking glass.

“Visitors?” she asked.

“An elderly man and a youngish woman.”

“You know who they are, don't you?”

“I've never seen them before.”

“They are Sir Henry and Helena Derringham.”

“Oh.”

“Well, what did you expect. Of course they came aboard to welcome
Serene
Lady
to Sydney. Rex was there I suppose.”

“Yes.”

She was looking at me in the glass; but still she betrayed nothing.

***

We spent two days in Circular Quay. This gave me an opportunity to see Sydney. The Greenalls with Miss Rundle had left; so had the Glennings. It seemed so different without them and the usual routine of days at sea. There was a great deal of the bustle that went with the loading and unloading of cargo. Chantel and I went shopping—she for herself and Monique, I for Edward and myself. We could not talk of what I wanted to in Edward's company; nor was I sure that Chantel would have talked to me alone. I felt such a deep sympathy for her, the more so because of my own position; then I felt angry with Rex because their future lay in his hands, and because he was so weak he had come to Sydney to make the proposal to Helena Derringham which he had failed to make in London.

There was one consolation. Surely such a weak man was not worthy of Chantel?

In the afternoon of the second day I sat on the deck with a book. I had been out in the morning and was rather tired. Edward was with his parents. I did not know where Chantel was.

Dick Callum came and sat beside me.

He said: “May I have the pleasure of taking you out to dine tonight?”

I hesitated.

“Oh come, you mustn't say no. I shall be most hurt if you do.”

His smile was very pleasant and after all what had he done except honor me with his admiration and bear a certain animosity to Redvers, which in the circumstances some people would say was natural.

So I accepted. He could not stay with me now. He was on duty and the purser's office as I knew was at its busiest when we were in port.

That evening he took me out to Rose Bay. It was a delightful restaurant, each table candlelit with blue and gold candles; there was an orchestra which played romantic music and a violinist who came to our table and played especially for me.

Dick was doing everything possible to please me, and it would have been ungrateful not to appreciate this.

He apologized for his outburst on the previous occasion.

“I admit,” he said, “that I am jealous of the Captain.”

“Then,” I said, “this is the first step to conquering this emotion which…”

“Yes. I know. It hurts me more than it hurts him.”

“Do I sound so tutorial?”

“Charmingly so. And it is true, of course. I suppose it's a form of admiration. He's a first-class captain. And that is important. The Captain sets the pattern for the whole of the ship. It's a pity…” He hesitated and I urged him to go on.

“It's no good harking back, but it is a pity about
The
Secret
Woman
. That sort of thing sticks. There's not a member of the crew who doesn't know something about that shady incident, and very likely puts a certain construction on it. At least it makes them fear a man if they don't respect him.”

“So the crew fears and does not respect the Captain.”

“I didn't mean to put it so definite as that, but when an incident occurs like that, when a captain loses his ship in mysterious circumstances, he never escapes from the stigma. As I said to you before, if it had happened to anyone not connected with the Creditons, he would have lost his master's ticket. But we don't want to talk of that, do we. We have said all that can be said. What do you think of Sydney?”

“Interesting, beautiful beyond my expectations.”

He nodded. “And what are you going to think of the Island?”

“That's something I can't say as yet surely?”

“Anna, I don't like leaving you there.”

“It's kind of you to be so concerned. But why do you feel this anxiety?”

“Perhaps it's because of what happened there. The ship…being blown up in the bay there.”

“I thought we had decided not to discuss the incident.”

“I'm not discussing the incident really. I'm thinking of the Island. It's uncanny. Suppose the Captain was not concerned? Suppose someone there put a curse on the ship?”

“Oh really, you do not believe that sort of thing do you?”

“Many people don't believe in ghosts in the bright daylight do they? But they change their minds when the darkness falls. How many scoffers would spend the night alone in a house reputed to be haunted? Well, I don't believe in curses and spells here in Sydney, here in this restaurant with you sitting opposite me and the violins playing Mendelssohn's
Song
Without
Words
. But on the Island it might be a different matter, and we are getting very near to the Island.”

“Who would put a spell on a ship?”

“Perhaps it went back long ago. Perhaps it wasn't one of the islanders. There is a story about that ship. It was to be named
Lucky
Lady
or something like that. I never heard what. But Lady Crediton named it…somewhat unexpectedly. Imagine her feelings when she named that ship. She was thinking of that woman, the Captain's mother. She said ‘I name this ship
The
Secret
Woman
and may God bless all who sail on her.' Suppose she did not say bless, but curse. Suppose she was the one who laid the curse on the ship?”

“You are talking like some old soothsayer. Not at all like the Purser of
The
Serene
Lady.
”

“We all have our moments of superstition, Anna. Even you will have yours, if you have never had them already. Wait until she gets to the Island, until you feel the atmosphere of the place. We shall be coming back there after a while.”

“Two months,” I said.

“And then, Anna, I shall ask you again what I asked you before, for who knows what may happen in two months?”

Then we talked of other things; he told me of his ambitions. He wanted a home in England, somewhere to come back to in between voyages. He had seen the Queen's House. It was well-known in Langmouth. I realized it had become so after Aunt Charlotte's death.

I think he was picturing coming home to the Queen's House. He was trying to build up a picture for me to see. A life together—a life of serenity and perhaps happiness.

I let him talk. I hadn't the heart to say I could never marry him.

And that night as I slept in the ship lying still in the dock I dreamed of Aunt Charlotte. She came to my room in the Queen's House. I opened my eyes and saw her standing there, and her face was hazy and benevolent as it had rarely been in life; she was like a dream figure but the cluttered furniture of the room was lifelike.

“Don't be a fool,” she said. “Take what you can get. Don't go stretching out for the impossible. And how is it possible, eh? Not without disaster. Not without tragedy. You were involved in sudden death once before, my girl.”

Then in my dream I heard mocking laughter. It was Monique's.

My pounding heart awoke me and I lay thinking of the future, the Queen's House, and children, my children playing on the lawn. Then I slept again and strangely the dream continued. I went to the gate and there were two men standing there. And I was not sure which one I came in with.

A fantastic dream. Symbolic?

We were sailing at midday. The Glennings had come on board the previous day. They were staying for a few weeks in a hotel on Bondi Beach and asked me if I would like to bring Edward for a little outing. Edward, who was present, declared his desire to go so I accepted the invitation. They had always been very pleasant to me although I had had little to do with them.

They took us out driving and we went beyond the town and to where in the far distance we could see the hazy Blue Mountains. I was a little uneasy for I feared we should not be back on the ship in time, and I wondered what would happen if it sailed without us.

Gareth Glenning, understanding my anxiety, soothed me. “Don't worry, Miss Brett, we'll get back in good time.”

“If you didn't,” said Edward, his eyes round with horror, “would the Captain sail without us?”

“Ship's time waits for no one,” I said. “But we've time.”

“We are going to miss you all,” said Claire. “So much. But we're seeing Mr. Crediton in Sydney.”

“A pity you have to go on and leave us,” added Gareth. “Still you have Nurse Loman with you.”

“The Captain is sailing with us,” said Edward proudly.

“Where the ship is he has to be,” I added.

“We're getting near to the docks. I can see masts,” said Edward. “Look.”

“Nurse Loman is a very lively companion,” went on Claire. “We are going to miss her very much.”

“So will Uncle Rex,” said Edward. “Everybody says so.”

The Glennings smiled in rather an embarrassed way. I believed they were sorry for Chantel; and they had seen more of her in Rex's company than I had.

I said, changing the subject: “We shall find it much cooler when we're at sea again.” But Claire brought the conversation back to Chantel. She must have had an adventurous career. She had nursed a Lady Henrock, they believed, before she came to my aunt.

“She has talked of her.”

“A very unusual young woman.”

Naturally they were impressed by Chantel. Anyone would be. She was far more interesting than I was. I had always known that. It occurred to me that the Glennings had brought me out to talk about her. I wondered whether they knew of a case and were hoping to engage her after…I must stop being obsessed by the thought that Monique would not live long.

“We shall think of you on the Island,” said Gareth. “We've heard quite a lot about it.”

“From Mr. Crediton? I didn't know he'd ever been there.”

“I don't believe he has,” replied Gareth. “But it's talked of on the ship. There seems to be some…bogey about it.”

“Oh Gareth, you shouldn't say that,” said Claire, mildly reproving. “Miss Brett is going to live there.”

“Just a lot of talk,” said Gareth.

“I've heard the rumors. In any case if we don't like it we can leave.”

Now we were at the docks. It was half an hour before we sailed, not a lot of spare time because the gangways would be taken up within ten minutes. I took a last farewell of the Glennings, and Edward and I went to our cabin. He was chattering about cranes and cargoes. He wanted to see us leave the dock, so I took him on deck and we remained there while the last duties were performed. We waved to the people on the dockside and the band there played and Edward skipped about with excitement until he remembered that he was leaving Australia and that Johnny was somewhere in that vast continent; then he became a little thoughtful.

He said to me in a hushed whisper: “The Captain's guiding her, you know. He's up there telling them all what to do.”

And that seemed to comfort him.

I wanted to see Chantel—I thought I must know how she was taking her parting from Rex and this would be the time to discover.

She was not in her cabin. So I went uneasily to mine.

I said to Edward: “Let's go for a walk on deck.”

We walked, but there was no sign of Chantel.

I might have known, I thought. She's gone. They've run away together. That was why she was so calm. She's been planning this.

Edward did not know what a turmoil my thoughts were in. He was wondering what there would be for lunch.

I tried to answer his questions as though nothing had happened. I was thinking: I am going to that island alone. It was brought home to me afresh—although I had always been aware of it—how much I relied on her, her gaiety, her crazy outlook on life, her absence of sentimentality.