The Road to Paradise Island Page 29

  "Please release me. v I said coldly.

  He slackened his grip but did not let go.

  "You and I could have a lot of fun together," he said.

  "I despise you," I retorted. "And I shall take the earliest opportunity of leaving your house."

  He laughed. "You won't, you know." he said. "When little Felicity comes crying to you. you'll stay ... just a day longer... then another day ... I don't mind. It suits me. I think a lot about you. There are a lot of things I should like to show you."

  "Keep them for your friends." I said.

  I wrenched my arm away and walked into the house. In spite of my outward calm I was very shaken.

  Tomorrow. I promised myself. I will ride into the township and book a place on the coach.

  I was very uneasy. I had known for some time that he had cast lascivious eyes on me but this was the first time that he had spoken of his feelings.

  It was certainly the time to get out.

  INTERLUDE IN A DARK HOUSE 223

  That night I waited in my bedroom for him to go up to his room. I had my gun ready. It should never leave my side.

  I heard his footsteps; and then the door open and shut with a bang.

  I breathed with relief. Then I put a chair behind my door so that I should be immediately awakened if he made any attempt to come into my room. I should at least be warned and ... there was the gun. I decided that I would shoot him in the leg. I should be ready.

  I heard the door open. I picked up the pistol, leaped out of bed and peered through the crack in the door.

  Someone was in the passage. No. It was not William Granville. It was Mrs. Maken. She went quietly along the passage to the room with the balcony. She opened the door and went in.

  What did that mean?

  I waited. Five minutes passed. Ten minutes.

  Then I understood. She was in there... with him and Felicity. This was monstrous. It could not be endured. What sort of orgies was he planning? The man was lascivious, sexually perverted and insatiable.

  I must leave. And Felicity must come with me.

  I had scarcely any sleep that night. Whatever happened I was going off next day to book my seat on the coach.

  The next morning Felicity looked remote—as though she did not belong to this world. I think she was dazed. My imagination failed me. I could not conjecture what might have happened in that bedroom on the previous night.

  She could not go on living with such a man. She must see that.

  I said to her: "I am going to ride. Will you come with me?"

  She nodded.

  When we were riding out together, I said: "Felicity, I am definitely going. I cannot stay here any longer."

  "I understand how you feel."

  "Are you coming with me?"

  "I can't, Annalice. I daren't."

  "You know I have to go. I can't bear to leave you here."

  "I have to stay. I have made my bed, as they say, and I have to lie on it."

  "But you don't have to. You could get out of this marriage."

  "I can't. I'm caught. I'm trapped."

  "There is always a way out. Come with me. I'll book our places this morning, and as soon as we can get out, we'll go."

  "I can't."

  "I know what's going on here. I'll be frank. It's no time for pretence. I have seen him go into Mrs. Maken's room and last night ..."

  "Oh. Annalice..."

  "Yes, last night. I saw. She came in to you. She stayed. Oh. Felicity, this is terrible. You don't have to endure that. There could be a divorce. I'm going to ask Milton Harrington what to do. Come with me."

  "He'd follow us."

  "He wouldn't."

  "He would ... because of the money ..."

  "We could try. If we go to Sydney, we could get that ship to Cariba. Milton Harrington will help us. I know. He is very worldly. He would know what could be done. No one has to go on enduring what you have. It's monstrous. Everyone would agree with that."

  "I can't bear to face anyone." she said piteously. "I can't bear to talk about it. . . even to you."

  "It's got to stop," I said. "I don't trust him. I'm frightened of him myself. I can't stay under that roof any more nights than are necessary. I'm going to book my place on that coach. Be sensible. Felicity. Let me book for you. too."

  "I can't. I daren't. He'd kill me."

  "He wouldn't dare."

  "He would dare a great deal for money."

  "Are you condemning yourself to a lifetime of what you have already tasted? Milton Harrington half warned me against him. He must have an evil reputation for people as far off as that to have heard about him."

  "I'm terribly frightened, but I should be more so if he found out I had booked on the coach."

  "Why should he find out?"

  "People might tell him."

  "It's a risk you have to take if you want to get away."

  "I can't. I can't."

  "Then. Felicity. I shall have to go without you."

  "Oh. Annalice. please

  "I have stayed so long. It has to be now. I can't stay any longer. I have to get away."

  She closed her eyes. I saw that resigned look come into her face. I found it irritating. I suppose because it was so alien to my nature. I should never accept what was so repugnant to me. I should fight.

  Felicity was no fighter.

  But I could not give way again. I kept thinking of that man ... his bloodshot eyes, his whisky-tainted breath. I knew that sooner or later he would turn his attention to me. I was agile; I was quick-thinking. I was strong. But he was stronger.

  Resolutely I rode into the township.

  I did not look at Felicity for fear I should weaken. We tethered the horses and went into the inn.

  At the counter I asked about the bookings.

  The Saturday coach was fully booked. There were places on the Monday one.

  "What would that be, Miss? Two?"

  I looked at Felicity but she shook her head.

  "One," I said. "One place on the Monday coach."

  I came out into the sunshine, experiencing a great sense of relief, but it was tempered with a sadness and a deep anxiety, because although escape for myself was close at hand, I was leaving Felicity behind.

  Two more days and I should be free! Saturday and Sunday—and then Monday. I would get down to the township early so that I should be there in time.

  I should have to get Slim to drive me in because of my luggage. He could not refuse.

  Felicity looked desperately unhappy. I tried to comfort her but she could only say: "You're going. What will it be like without you?"

  "It's not too late," I told her. "There might still be room on the coach."

  But she refused.

  I was getting my things together. I asked Slim if he would take me into the township early on Monday morning and he said he would do so.

  Mrs. Maken said: "So you're leaving us?"

  I felt I could scarcely speak to her since I had seen her go into that room with the balcony. I did not blame her so much when I had seen him going into her room, for I had long realized the relationship between those two. But that she should actually go into the room with him when Felicity was there disgusted me.

  I said coolly: "Yes, I did not mean to stay long."

  "Mrs. Granville persuaded you, no doubt."

  "Well, I stayed to be with her, of course."

  "What a timid creature she is."

  "Everything here is very different from what she has been brought up to," I said.

  "Well, the outback is no place for you ladies."

  I went up to my room to continue with my packing. After tonight only one more to get through, I kept telling myself. I was longing to get to Sydney. I should arrive in the evening. On Tuesday I would go

  to the Botanical Association and then I should book myself in on the Wednesday boat for Cariba.

  I had to admit the prospect of seeing Milton Harrington again excited me. I should be able
to tell him about what was happening here. I was not going to abandon Felicity. I had to help her even if she would not help herself and I believed that Milton Harrington might have some suggestion to make.

  It was just like any other Saturday night, though the merrymaking out of doors seemed more riotous than usual. It was midnight when they dispersed and went off to their own quarters. I heard William Granville come up to bed.

  I waited, listening. He went into his room and shut the door.

  I breathed more freely. I would give him a little time to settle down and then I would go to bed, not forgetting to put the chair against the door.

  Ten minutes passed.

  1 got into bed.

  It must have been about fifteen minutes later when I heard stealthy footsteps in the passage. I sat up in bed and felt for the pistol. I held it securely and waited.

  My heart was hammering. The footsteps had stopped outside my door.

  The chair moved a little. There was a scraping sound and it fell backwards. He had stepped into my room. The starlight showed me his grinning face—horrible, lustful and determined.

  I leaped out of the bed and stood on the other side of it, holding the pistol ready in my hand.

  "If you take a step towards me, Til fire," I said.

  He looked amazed and stared at me.

  "By God," he said, "you were ready and waiting for me."

  "I know too much about you," I retorted. "Get out... unless you want a bullet through you."

  "You wildcat," he said.

  "Yes. Remember it. You will be sorry if you take another step into this room."

  "You couldn't shoot me. could you?"

  "I could and I would."

  "Murder me in my home ... in cold blood."

  "In your home but in hot blood. I am seething with anger against you. 1 loathe you. I despise you. I distrust you. You are not a man. You are the lowest form of animal. Do you think I don't know what goes on here. I wanted to take Felicity back with me but she would

  not come. Some misguided sense of duty. Duty to what? You! Who call yourself a man! Stand back. I shall fire if you move."

  He was recovering from the shock of seeing me facing him with the pistol in my hand.

  "Now... now," he said. "I only came in to see if you were all right. I thought I heard a noise... Someone prowling about."

  "Perhaps it was your mistress coming to visit you."

  "I thought it might be the bushrangers ..."

  "Well, it isn't. Go away, and if you set foot in this room again while I'm here I shan't warn you. I shall shoot."

  "Spitfire! Wildcat! You're a tigress, you are. I wouldn't hurt you. I like you. I could get very fond of you. I like women with a bit of spirit. If you'd only take the trouble to get to know me ... "

  "I know all I need to know and the more I know the more I despise you."

  "Give me a chance."

  "Go away."

  "You don't mean that, do you?"

  He was trying to sidle round the bed.

  "I do. One step nearer and I shall fire. I shan't miss. You yourself said I was a fair shot."

  "That's murder, you know."

  "I shall shoot you in the leg. And it will be in self-defence. I shall tell everyone that you came into my room intending to rape me. I shall tell them that you take your housekeeper to bed with your wife. You wouldn't be very welcome, even in this wild land, after I had told all I know about you."

  Suddenly I knew that he was defeated. He looked at me with something like hatred.

  He said: "All right, you bitch, you she-wolf. You think you are so precious, do you? Get out of my house. Get out now."

  "I shall leave first thing in the morning."

  "And where will you go? Sleep rough? That would hardly suit her ladyship."

  "I shall go to the inn. I am leaving in the Sydney coach on Monday. If I can't get a room there, I will sleep anywhere ... in their parlour ... I shall not mind. All I want is to get away from this place."

  "Go," he said, "and good riddance."

  With that he went out of the room kicking the chair aside and banging the door after him. I sank onto the bed. My knees felt as though they were giving way, and now that I no longer had to steel myself to face him, my hands were trembling so much that I could not

  hold the pistol. My teeth chattered. I thought if he were to come back what good would I be in the fight against him?

  I lay still, all senses alert. I heard him go downstairs. I waited, listening for the time of his return, trying to control my trembling limbs. I must go tomorrow. I would ride out and ask if I could stay the night at the inn. Surely someone would give me shelter just for one night—and on Monday morning I would be off. The hideous nightmare would be over.

  What was he doing. I could hear nothing.

  An hour passed. My limbs had ceased to tremble. I kept the pistol in my hand.

  Then I heard him. He was coming up the stairs. I put my eyes to the crack in the door. I could hear him muttering to himself and I could just make out his tall figure. He was reeling a little. He must be very drunk.

  I watched him hesitate at the top of the stairs. Then he turned and went into the bedroom with the balcony.

  It could only have been five minutes later, and I was still waiting tensely, when I heard the shot.

  I knew where it came from and carrying my pistol in my hand I went along the passage and opened the door of their bedroom.

  The door to the balcony was wide open. I saw Felicity. She was on the balcony, clinging to the broken wood.

  "Felicity!" I cried. "What happened?"

  She tried to speak but no words came. She shook her head and pointed to the balcony.

  I saw that several more of the staves were broken away and the front of it had collapsed almost in its entirety. I went forward and looked down. Sprawled on the ground below was William Granville. Some distance from him was the gun.

  He lay inert like a big puppet and there was something unnatural about his position.

  My instinct told me that he was dead.

  I did not ride on the coach that Monday. I stayed in the house with Felicity. I took her out of that room of many evil memories and made her lie on my bed. It was wide enough for the two of us and she was in no state to be left alone.

  She was numb; she stared ahead of her and there was a glazed look in her eyes. I began to fear for her reason.

  The days that followed now seem rather vague in my mind. There was much coming and going. The body of William Granville was taken away. He was shot through the head.

  Officials rode out from Sydney and a great many questions were asked.

  How had he fallen? they wanted to know.

  He had leaned against the balcony and it had given way.

  I felt calm. Felicity had not told me what had happened and I was afraid to ask her. I felt she would break into hysteria and I did not know what she would say if she did. I had a niggling fear in my mind that she had come to the end of her endurance and possibly had fired the fatal shot. I could well understand that. I had been ready to shoot him myself. There is a limit beyond which even the meekest person cannot be goaded.

  What I wanted more than anything was to get away from this place. And I wanted to take Felicity with me. Whatever had happened was over. I wanted to soothe her, comfort her. I understood so clearly what she had suffered.

  The theory was that the bushrangers had been prowling around. The Pickering story was discussed in great detail, and the bushrangers were in everyone's mind.

  I said that the dead man had come to my room earlier that evening and had said he thought he had heard prowlers whom he suspected might be bushrangers.

  That was true enough.

  It was confirmed that he had been constantly watchful for bushrangers after the Pickering affair. Everybody was.

  It was believed that he had heard strangers outside and had taken the gun and gone to the balcony. It was a fact that the balcony was in need of
repair. One stave had been missing for months. It was easy to see how it happened. He had dashed out with his gun, forgetting the wood of the balcony was rotting; he had leaned against it and in falling had shot himself. Then the gun had been knocked out of his hand and so was found a few feet away from him.

  It was another tragedy of the outback.

  I believed that at home there would have been more enquiries into the matter. Here life was cheaper. People were pioneering, making a new country, and the risks that entailed were numerous. Death was not such a rare occurrence.

  Mrs. Maken told how we had all been given guns after the bushranging outrage at the Pickerings'. Mr. Granville, she knew, was very anxious not to leave the women unprotected.

  "The bushrangers have a lot to answer for," said one of the officials.

  But I was not sure that they had to answer for William Granville's death.

  I said I wanted to get away as soon as possible. Mrs. Granville was in a state of shock, from which I feared she would not recover until we left this house of tragedy.

  But first there was the ordeal of the funeral to be faced.

  There was a small cemetery just outside the township and his grave was close to that of Mrs. Pickering, who had died after her ordeal with the bushrangers.

  We stood round it— Felicity. Mrs. Maken, myself and several of the men. A number of people came in from miles around to witness the burial. Much sympathy was shown to Felicity, and I watched her anxiously, wondering whether she was going to lose that calm and betray her real feelings.

  It was quite unlike the funerals at home—no glorious trappings, no ceremonial black-clad undertakers, and elaborately caparisoned horses. We had tried to find as much black as we could but there was no way we could get new clothes.

  "Poor soul," said one of the women spectators. "I'd like to murder those bushrangers. When they find them they'll be lynched, I can tell you. That poor Mrs. Pickering... what she suffered! And now Mr. Granville."

  Our silence was construed as grief, and we went back to the house in the buggy, with Slim driving us. as he did on our arrival.

  It transpired that William Granville had borrowed heavily on the strength of having married a woman of fortune. His debts would have to be met. and this could only be done by the sale of his property after which there would be very little left. Felicity agreed listlessly to all that was suggested and was glad that the matter could pass out of her hands. She told me she wanted nothing of her late husband's estate. All she wanted to do was get away, and for things to be as though this had never happened.