The Secret Woman (32 page)

She saw me standing there with Edward and she cried dramatically: “My baby! My baby! We are alone now!”

She held out her hand but Edward turned away and stared stonily in front of him. Suka had come out in the stealthy way she had.

“Come in, Missy,” she said. “There's nothing to be gained by tears.”

Monique immediately began to wail. She came over and took Edward's hand but he snatched it away and buried his face in my skirt, which was unlike him. He hated to behave like a baby.

“He doesn't want me,” said Monique bitterly. “He'd rather have Miss Brett.” She laughed hysterically. “And he's not the only one.”

Suka put her arm about her.

“Come in, my pet Missy. Come in.”

Monique's eyes were dilated, her cheeks suffused with blood.

I said, “I'll call Nurse Loman.”

Suka looked at me scornfully and led Monique into the house.

The glance she cast in my direction was venomous.

How she hates me! I thought. Far more than Monique does. I believed it was true that Monique rather liked me because I gave her a reason for making scenes.

I was very uneasy.

Monique was ill a few days after the departure of the ship, and Chantel was constantly with her.

I told Edward that we would get down to our lessons without delay and that would help to pass the time. He was fascinated by geography and history, and I made a point of dealing with those places through which we had passed and which were more than marks on a map to him. He pored over the blue of the Pacific and found our island a black spot in the vast expanse of blue among other black spots. The names enchanted him; he went about saying them in a singsong voice: “Tongatapu, Nuku'alofa, the Friendly Isles. Kao: Fonuafoou.” He was going to visit them all when he was a sailor. We had worked out the approximate time of the ship's return and he had painted red lines about the date. He had been amused by the phrase “a red letter day.” This was going to be one. He had made certain of it by coloring it in red.

He did not like the house; he did not like the food. He liked best to be with me or with Chantel. His mother embarrassed him with her too ardent caresses, and he seemed relieved when she ignored him. He did not like Suka who tried so blatantly to win his affection, but Pero amused him and he liked to tease her; also he liked old Jacques and would climb in and out of the carriage and help groom the horses. He was a little in awe of his grandmother but at least he respected her.

He liked the Island, but I was afraid to allow him to swim for fear of sharks. And I was glad of Dick's adventure, since he had come safely through it, because in addition to its changing his attitude toward Redvers, I was able to assure Edward of the danger.

We walked a little, usually after the heat of the day. We would go down to the group of shops which were like huts and watch the girls in their long colored skirts making shell necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. They sat under a thatch—“a house with no sides,” Edward called it—and worked till it was dark; and they were there in the early morning. It was at midday and just before and after that the Island was deserted.

Along by the waterfront were the storing places for the copra and fruit which was to be shipped abroad and by which trade the islanders lived.

“It's not much like Langmouth,” Edward commented. “And we're going home one day.”

There were moments when I felt that we had slipped into a normal routine. There were others when the atmosphere of the house seemed unbearable. This would be at night when I lay in bed unable to sleep, thinking of
Serene
Lady
, wondering where she was now and whether Redvers was lying in his cabin, thinking of me. Then I would take out his letter and read it. I could not find a safe place for it. There were no keys to the cupboards and drawers. So I put it in between my clothes and whenever I came back to my room after being away, I assured myself that it was still there.

Boards creaked uncomfortably by night. In the corridor the oil lamp was replaced by a rush light after midnight. I would hear Suka come along the corridor, flap flap in the raffia shoes she always wore—just a straw sole and a bar across and on the bar were colored strands of straw. They looked very untidy and hers had usually been worn too long. I would hear her pause, and I used to imagine that she came to my door and stood there and that if I leaped out of bed and opened the door I would catch her.

Why? It was pointless. But I could never be near her without feeling those great eyes on me…watching.

I used to look at Edward's red-lined date and I was sure that he did not long for that day with more intensity than I did, although I wondered what hope it could bring me beyond the joy of seeing Redvers again.

It would be easier, I told myself, when Chantel was less occupied, but she told me that she was afraid to move far away from Monique. The foolish creature was working herself into illness—which was very easily done with her complaint.

The Island doctor came. He was very old and only waiting for the new man to come out before he retired. He talked to Chantel but she told me that he was years behind the times. And could you wonder? He had been on the Island for the last thirty years.

About three days after the ship left Monique sent Edward to bring me to her; and as soon as I saw her I knew she was in a dangerous mood.

She said slyly: “You must be lonely, Miss Brett.”

“No,” I replied cautiously.

“You'd miss the ship?”

I did not speak. “How strange!” she went on. “The two of them liked you, didn't they? Dick Callum as well. You don't look like a
femme
fatale
… I'd say Nurse Loman was more that, and she didn't get Mr. Crediton, did she?”

I said, “Did you wish to talk of Edward's progress?”

That made her laugh. “Edward's progress! He doesn't want me either. No. You are not content with the Captain. You want everything. You would not even leave me Edward.”

Edward looked alarmed and I said: “Edward, I think we should be working on those maps.”

Edward rose with alacrity, as eager to get away as I was. But she began to scream at us. She was a frightening sight. She changed suddenly; her eyes were wild, her face scarlet; her hair had escaped from its restrictive ribbon and as she threw herself about in a frenzy the words of abuse fell out…fortunately she was incoherent. I should not have liked Edward to have known of what she was accusing me.

Chantel came in. She signed to me to go and I hurried away.

***

I said to myself: I shouldn't stay. It's an impossible situation. I should get away before the ship returns. But how?

I pictured the ship's coming in. How could I sail away with Redvers and leave her there? Chantel had said definitely with a gleam of determination in her eyes that she would not stay on the Island. When the ship came back she would go with it. And I must go with her too.

But how could I? And where to? Could I sail back to England with Redvers? I knew that would be madness.

I washed my hands and changed my dress. The doctor came. Chantel had sent for him. It was a bad attack this time.

As I let down my hair and was combing it, my door slowly opened. I saw Suka in the looking glass, standing there. She looked murderous and I thought she had come to do me some harm.

How she hated me!

She said: “Miss Monique is very ill.”

I nodded. We faced each other, she standing there, her hands hanging limply at her side, myself with my hair loose and the hairbrush in my hand.

Then she said quietly: “If she die…you have killed her.”

“That's nonsense,” I said sharply.

She shrugged her shoulders and turned away. But I called her back.

“Listen,” I said, “I will not allow you to say such things. She brought the attack on herself. I had nothing to do with it. And if I hear you say such a thing again I shall take action.”

My firm and resolute voice for some reason seemed to frighten her for she recoiled and lowered her eyes.

I said: “Please go, and do not come into my room uninvited again.”

She shut the door and I heard the raffia slippers shuffling along the corridor.

I looked at myself in the glass. There was color in my cheeks and my eyes were blazing. I certainly looked ready to go into battle. I looked again. Now that she had gone my expression had changed.

There was fear in my eyes. I had been accused of murder once before. It was strange that that should happen to me twice.

It was like some eerie pattern repeating itself.

There were shadows in the room but deeper shadows in the house.

Two months, I thought. But there were the long days and nights between.

All about me was a sense of doom.

I was afraid.

***

I dined alone with Madame. Chantel did not wish to leave Monique and had had something sent up to her on a tray.

Madame was restrained.

She said: “It is hardly worth cooking for the two of us. So we will have a little cold collation.”

The cold collation was the remains of the fish we had yesterday—always fish. It was caught by the local fisherman and was the cheapest food available, that and the fruits, some of which grew in the garden.

It did not concern me. I had little appetite.

The only thing that was lavish at her table was the wine. There must have been a good stock in the cellar.

The candelabrum which I had admired was on the table as a center decoration but the candles in it were not lighted. There was enough light from the oil lamp, Madame said.

Candles were expensive on the Island, I remembered; I was beginning to consider the cost of everything. One could not be in that house without doing so.

I tried to turn my thoughts from alarming conjectures and give my full attention to Madame de Laudé. How different she was from her daughter. Dignified, poised; her only eccentricity was this economy which was sometimes carried to absurdity. One of the ghosts which haunted this house was that of Poverty.

She smiled at me across the table.

“You are very calm, Miss Brett,” she said. “I like that.”

“I am glad I seem so,” I replied. If she could have read my thoughts she would have changed her mind.

“I fear my daughter is very ill. She brings on these attacks to some extent herself.”

“That's true, I'm afraid.”

“It is why she needs a nurse in constant attendance.”

She could not have a better, I said.

“Nurse Loman is efficient as well as being decorative.”

I agreed wholeheartedly with that.

“You are very fond of her…and she of you. It is pleasant to have friends.”

“She has been very good indeed to me.”

“And you to her perhaps?”

“No. I don't think I have had the opportunity of doing much for her. I should welcome it.”

She smiled. “I am glad you are here. Edward needs you and my daughter needs Nurse Loman. I wonder whether you will stay…”

Her eyes were wistful.

“One can never look too far into the future,” I said evasively.

“You must find life so different from what you have been used to.”

“It is very different indeed.”

“You find us…primitive here?”

“I did not expect a great metropolis.”

“And you are homesick perhaps?”

I thought of the gorge and the houses on either side of it and Castle Crediton dominating the scene; I thought of the old cobbled streets of Langmouth and the new part of the town which had expanded through the good graces of Sir Edward Crediton who while he had engaged in his sensual adventures had become a millionaire and brought prosperity to everyone. Even the lady's maid had lived in the house like a lady and the seamstress had been set up in establishment of her own and her son had been brought into the Company.

I felt a great longing to be there—to smell the cold clean air coming from the sea, to watch the activity at the docks, to see the sails of the cutters and the clippers side by side with the new modern steamers like
Serene
Lady
.

“I suppose one is always homesick for one's native land when one is away from it.”

She asked questions about Langmouth and it was not long before she brought Castle Crediton into the conversation. She was avid for details and her admiration for Lady Crediton was unbounded.

There was no point in sitting over our meal. We had both eaten very little. I looked regretfully at the remains of the fish and expected to see it the next day.

We went into the
salon
and Pero brought in the coffee. It was clearly an evening for confidences.

“My daughter is a great anxiety to me,” she said. “I was hoping that when she lived in England she would change, grow more restrained.”

“I could not imagine her being so wherever she lived.”

“But in the Castle…with Lady Crediton…and the graciousness of everything…”

“The Castle,” I said, “is indeed a Castle, although it was built by Sir Edward. You would think it was of Norman origin and this of course means that it is vast. People could live in it without seeing each other for weeks. Lady Crediton kept to her own quarters. It was not like living in a family, you understand.”

“But she invited my daughter. She wanted Edward to be brought up there.”

“Yes, and I think she continues to want that. But Mrs. Stretton was ill and the doctor thought the English climate aggravated her disease. That was why they wanted her to come back here for a while. We shall see what effect it has on her.”

“I liked to think of her there. Comfortable and secure. Here… As you see we are very poor.”

I did not wish her to go on in this strain because her poverty was something which obsessed her and like all obsessions was boring to other people. Moreover I did not believe she was as poor as she professed to be. I looked round the room at the furniture I had noticed before. Since I had been in the house I was constantly finding pieces of interest.

I said to her: “But Madame de Laudé, you have many valuable articles here.”

“Valuable?” she asked.

“The chair on which you are sitting is French eighteenth century. It would fetch a high price in the market.”

“The market?”

“The antique market. I must explain to you. I am not a governess by profession. My aunt had an antique business and trained me to help her. I learned something of furniture, objets d'art, porcelain and so on. My aunt died and I was unable to continue the business. It was rather distressing and my friend Nurse Loman suggested that I needed a change and that I should take this post.”

“That's interesting. Tell me about my furniture.”

“Some of it is very valuable. The majority of it is French and the French were noted throughout the world for their artistry. No other country has ever produced more beautiful furniture. Now that chiffonier over there. I know it is a Riesener. I have already looked and discovered the cypher. You may think I am inquisitive, but I have a passionate interest in these things.”