The Takamaka Tree (19 page)

“It’s like trying to compare one of your orchids to—to well, a primrose. Who is to say which is the more beautiful a flower?” said Daniel, now hopelessly at sea. He poured some tea for Sandy. “Try to have a little breakfast. Then I want you to be very brave, as you always are, dear one. I want you to pack your things and I will take you across to
Sun Flyer.”

“
Are the clothes you bought me mine?” she asked woodenly.

“Of course.”

“I expect I have other things on board if I am this Marion Elliot. I don’t even like the name,” she said suddenly. “In fact, I think I shall insist on being called Sandy.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Daniel, relieved that she had accepted his decision. “If you want to be Sandy, then you are Sandy. In a matter of days you will be back in London and having treatment. When your memory has returned you can still be who you like. If you want to remain as Sandy, then you can, but you will be a full person, not the shadowy, half person that can only exist now. Courage and determination, Sandy.”

“Sh-shall I ever see you again?” she trembled.

He leaned across and took both her hands. “Yes, be assured of that. Somehow I will find you.”

His words were some comfort, and she drank the tea and nibbled at some fruit to please him. Then, with some shreds of dignity she went into her room to pack her few things and shed a few tears.

For Leon, it was the end of the world again. He could not believe that his beloved Miss-Sandy was leaving. She shook hands with him and old Noah, and gave Flora a quick warm hug. Leon insisted on staying with Sandy till the last. He refused to let Daniel take the boat out to
Sun Flyer,
but paddled them himself with angry, defiant strokes that sent spray flying up into the sunlight. Sandy sat forlornly, holding Daniel’s hand.

Gabrielle was sunbathing on the deck, lying on her stomach, the straps of her bra unfastened, smoke curling from the cigarette between her fingers. She sat up slowly and hooked the straps together, then tied the strings around her neck. It was a brief black bikini, cut provocatively. She smiled at them.

“Hello there. What a lovely morning. So you’ve come after all, Marion. Good. Well, get yourself settled and then when you feel like it, you’ll find the breakfast things in the galley waiting to be washed up. But there’s no hurry. We’ve got all day. Daniel, that was the first decent breakfast we’ve had for weeks. All that lovely fruit,” she added.

She stood and stretched, shaking free her mane of hair. Her fingernails were painted a silvery pink. She pushed one hand through her hair, loving the feel of the warmth of the sun on her skin.

“It’s an absolutely gorgeous day,” she went on. “I think we’ll just stay on here. I’d like to see more of your island, Daniel. Is it open to tourists?”

Sandy stood on the deck clutching her small bundle of possessions. It was all utterly strange to her. She did not know where to go. She shot Daniel a look for help, which he found hard to resist.

“I’m sorry but I don’t know where the galley is,” she said miserably.

“Next to your cabin, of course. Surely you remember where your cabin is?”

“There’s no need to start working,” said Ralph, coming forward. “And Marion had better have my cabin now. I’ll clear my things out.”

“That
won’t be necessary,” said Gabrielle, in a voice that immediately gave Daniel misgivings. But he had to let her go. She would only be on
Sun Flyer
for a few days. They were on their way to Mahé, then they would fly straight back to
London. He would have to leave Sandy in Ralph’s care.

“Don’t worry, Marion. We’ll sort things out. But I think it would be a mistake to hang about here too long,” said Ralph, as if he half expected Sandy to take off over the side with a dive into the sea and to start swimming back to La Petite. He took the small bundle from her hands. “We ought to get going just in case there’s another squall.”

“But I want to see over La Petite,” Gabrielle insisted. “Heavens, I’m sick of this boat. We’ve been marooned on it for weeks. I want to swim somewhere on a little private beach.”

“You can swim on Mahé,” said Ralph.

“I mean a really lonely beach,” she said with a wide smile. Her meaning was only too clear. She wanted to swim in the nude.

“You are welcome to come ashore and to swim. I can’t stop you. But I shall be working so you will have to amuse yourself. The island is so small you can’t get lost.”

His voice was abrupt. Daniel knew he had to say goodbye to Sandy now, and the words stuck in his throat. He turned as if to go, but swiftly Gabrielle put herself between him and the rails. Her curvaceous body was so brown and gleaming. She almost stood against him, she was so close.

She slid her hand along his arm, along all the dark hairs, and up onto his shoulder, then she shifted her weight so that she half leaned against him, her body perfume warm and distracting.

“Now that isn’t very polite of you, Daniel. How often do you get a visitor like me?”

The whole scene was deliberate. Sandy could stand it no longer. She ran in the direction that Ralph had shown her; anywhere to get away from the sight of Gabrielle in Daniel’s arms. She thought she had seen a movement from Daniel, and that movement could only mean one thing. What man could resist that beautiful, tantalising woman?

Sandy knocked into some overhanging structure as she ran below. She did not really know where she was going. Somewhere down here was the galley. She would have to work and work to push these tormenting thoughts out of her mind.

She opened one door, but it was some sort of saloon, with upholstered bench seats and a small table. She hurried on, almost blinded by the fresh hot tears that were scalding her eyes.

She pushed at another door, but it was stiff. She pushed hard again and it burst open so that she almost fell into the cabin.

At first it looked as if she had stumbled into a nightmare. The cabin walls were black and charred. Tattered fragments of cotton hung from the porthole. On the bunk were a heap of ashes and bits of blackened mattress. A door swung open from the wall, and from wire hangers hung shreds of burnt clothes.

The mirror was cracked and covered in ash. On the small shelf in front of it were melted lumps of plastic make-up containers, and a hairbrush that was only just recognisable from its charred shape.

Sandy looked around the cabin in horror. She could smell the burning. Waves of heat blew into her face. Her feet began to burn, a blinding pain swept through her head, beginning at her forehead and enveloping her whole skull in searing pain.

She threw back her head and began to scream, and scream and scream.

Chapter Nine

They found Sandy in the burnt-out cabin, rigid with shock, still screaming. Daniel lifted her into his arms and carried her up on deck into the bright sunlight. Ralph disappeared to get some brandy. Gabrielle hung back, apprehensive and alarmed at Sandy’s state.

“My feet,” Sandy screamed. “My feet!” She began to cough and choke as if she were breathing acrid fumes from the fire.

Daniel held her closer. Her heart was thudding. She was reliving the whole terrifying experience.

“It’s all right, Sandy. It’s all over. You are quite safe. It’s all over.”

He said the words again and again, holding her struggling body as she tried to escape from the flames that leaped all around in her mind.

“This is water. Drink it,” said Ralph, with new command and inspiration. It was water laced with brandy. She opened her parched lips and sipped. As the liquid ran down, she choked, but her eyes opened. They held a glazed look, but slowly it was Daniel’s dark bearded face she saw. For a moment she could not believe it. She flung her arms around his neck in a fierce clasp that almost strangled him.

“Daniel, Daniel,” she cried. “Daniel, save me.”

“Hush, hush, Sandy,” he reassured her. “Hold on to me. It’s all over. It was only a dream, a nightmare. The fire is all over.”

A deep shudder went through her body, and he tightened his arms in case the nightmare went on. But now she had quietened and only her body was trembling. Even though the sun was hot, Ralph brought a sheet to wrap around her, to still the trembling.

She began to cry, to cry as she had not cried for years. She was engulfed in a storm of weeping. Gabrielle had disappeared. She had gone below. She needed a drink and a cigarette.

How long the weeping lasted, they did not know. Perhaps it was over in minutes. Perhaps they were on the deck of
Sun Flyer
for an hour watching Sandy in her torment, unable to do anything to help her.

But gradually her tears ceased. Daniel’s arms were aching with holding her. He shifted her weight, but would not loosen his hold. He knew she needed him, although she had said nothing beyond repeating his name.

“Daniel, take me away from here,” she whispered at last, her eyes drowned in tears. “I remember now: I am Marion Elliot. But I can’t stay here. It was Gabrielle. I didn’t fall or jump overboard. She pushed me. Oh Daniel, I’m almost sure that Gabrielle pushed me!”

The awful words pierced the air like the cry of a seabird. Ralph’s face went pale. Daniel held her against him, stroking her tawny hair as the words came tumbling out.

“I remember it all now. Right from the beginning. She tried to get the life jacket away from me. She wanted it for Ralph. We had this silly joke of sharing the life jacket, but she wasn’t going to let me have it. She tried to pull it off me and somehow, as we struggled, we got right near the rails. The gale was getting worse and it was really blowing. We lost our balance and as I fell, I’m sure she pushed me. I can feel her hands on me now. I went over the rails into the sea; I remember seeing her face. Then in a second the water closed over me and I could see nothing more. I was being swept away, the water pounding in my ears…

Sandy’s voice trailed away. Ralph held the glass to her lips and she drank again. This time the faintest smile touched her mouth as she recognised the burning liquid. It was the first moment of hope for Daniel—reality. It meant that she was coming out of the blackness, that her youth and strength had withstood the shock.

She wiped her tears with her hands like a child, her eyelashes all spiky.

“Don’t say any more if it distresses you,” said Daniel. He moved so that she could sit against a bulkhead, but she kept hold of him.

“But I remember everything,” she gulped. “I remember who I am and everything about myself. It’s marvellous, that part of it. I don’t have to worry any more. I know who I am.”

“Can you perhaps start at the beginning, so that we know a little more too?” he prompted gently.

“I teach in a school, a girls’ school in Surrey. St. Patrick’s. It’s a very good school in an old Victorian building, built high on the Downs. I teach art. Of course, that’s right, I teach drawing and painting. And I know all about perspective and textures and design.” She went deep into thought, as if all the scenes of school life were tumbling about in her mind. But then she began to speak again.

“I wanted a job for the long summer holiday. The year before I’d taken a shortened Cordon Bleu cooking course, and I’d always been fond of cooking. So when I saw this advertisement in
The Times,
it seemed a wonderful opportunity. A holiday in the sun cruising among the Seychelles, and being paid for it.”

Sandy turned to Ralph. “I remember Mr. Webster was so kind. I knew I would enjoy working for him. That was before I had met his daughter, though. And those first couple of days preparing for the cruise were busy and happy ones. I liked your company, too. I thought everything was going to be fine; that was, until Gabrielle arrived.”

“Sandy, it was all my fault. I should not have showed that I liked you so much. You were so refreshing and gay, and so undemanding. The thing about Gabrielle is that she devours people, their time and everything about them,” said Ralph despairingly. “It’s as if she has to possess people.” He looked quite shattered and his debonair good looks were strained.

“Don’t blame yourself, Ralph,” said Sandy. “We did nothing that was wrong. We were simply good friends and Gabrielle could not stand it.”

Sandy shivered again. “There was a dreadful scene one evening. Ralph had not been well all day, and I had been to his cabin several times with cold drinks. He had been sick, but I was used to that, teaching in a girls’ school. I was bathing his face, and I had brought a clean pillowcase to his cabin. Gabrielle came in suddenly. I don’t know what she thought. I was only bending over Ralph and lifting him so that I could remove the pillow. But, well, she nearly went mad. She wouldn’t listen to anything we said. She caught hold of my hair and dragged me out of Ralph’s cabin. She’s quite a strong woman and I could do nothing.”

At this point Sandy stopped again. Her hands fluttered to her head, and Daniel wondered if telling her story was becoming too much.

“She c-cut my hair off!” Sandy’s fingertips pressed over her mouth to stop any more cries of anguish. “She just hacked at it with her scissors! It fell all over the place—great clumps. I had such l-long h-hair…”

Daniel took a deep gulp of breath. The harrowing details were almost more than he could bear. Ralph was sitting with his head in his hands, quite still.

“Can you go on?” Daniel’s voice was very gentle. “If not, it doesn’t matter. We don’t need to know any more.”