The Road to Paradise Island Page 33

  "Yes... yes... that's all. It's all right, isn't it? It's all right."

  "It's all right," I repeated.

  She lay still murmuring: "It's all right ..."

  The pill took effect quickly and soon she was breathing easily. She would soon be asleep.

  Then I heard her say something. "Raymond ... why ... if only... Oh, Raymond..."

  I sat there looking at her.

  I thought: If I had never gone to the conference... If I had never met Raymond ... none of this would have happened.

  She was fast asleep and I rose and went to my room.

  I could not sleep. I was thinking what a tangle we had got ourselves into. She loved Raymond. What she needed more than anything now was Raymond to come and say that he loved her.

  Fervently I wished he would because it was becoming increasingly clear to me that if I said goodbye and sailed away from Cariba— and by that I meant Milton Harrington—I should never be completely happy again.

  Next morning, as soon as I was up, I went to see Felicity. She looked blank but at least she was quiet in her mind.

  I went downstairs and ate breakfast in the courtyard at the back of the hotel. It consisted of yams with fresh bread and coconut milk. While I was eating it the quadroon girl came out and asked about Felicity.

  I told her the doctor would be coming later, and that Felicity seemed a little better but was still very tired.

  "If you need anything, ask me," said the girl. "I'm Rosa. I know people here."

  "Yes, I suppose so. In your job you see everyone who comes into the hotel:'

  "Poor Mrs. Granville. She looks so ill."

  "She'll soon be better, we hope."

  "Mr. Harrington is really concerned for her... and for you."

  "He has been very kind and helpful to us."

  "He is a very important man. The island depends on him. We don't forget that... nor does he."

  Was that a faint criticism? I wondered.

  I merely nodded.

  "The plantation is good for the island. All this prosperity ..." She waved her hand.

  "Yes, that must be true."

  "So many people want sugar ... so many people. Our plantation is bigger than Manuel's on Second Island."

  "That's the island closest to this is it? The next biggest of the group?"

  She nodded. "Mr. Manuel ... he died not long ago. Mr. Harrington was in England then. Mrs. Magda ... she manage it now. She very clever lady."

  "How interesting. I want to see the other islands while I am here."

  "Perhaps Mr. Harrington will take you to Second Island, yes? Perhaps not."

  She seemed to find the situation amusing, then she said suddenly: "Forgive me ... I have work."

  I sat back thinking about the other island and wondering what was significant about Mrs. Magda Manuel which had seemed to provide Rosa with some amusement.

  I finished breakfast and then went to take another look at Felicity. She opened her eyes as I entered and I asked if she would like a little breakfast. To my joy she said she would and I went down and asked them to bring up some milk, fruit and bread.

  I sat with her while she ate it. She seemed much better and did not refer to my visit during the night; and indeed appeared to have forgotten it. She said she still felt tired and I told her that was probably due to the medicine and she clearly needed sleep.

  I sat with her until she slept and then went down. I came out to the front of the hotel and stood for a moment looking at the harbour. Several people were seated on chairs on the raised terrace in front of the hotel. Sunshades had been put up over the tables which gave the place the look of a Continental cafe. People were sipping liquid from glasses—the cool drink of the island, I supposed—or perhaps the

  hotel had other wines to offer. But it seemed odd to be drinking wine so early in the morning. Other lands, other customs, I murmured to myself.

  I sat down in one of the chairs and a waiter came up to me and asked if I wanted anything. I told him I did not.

  I said: "What a lovely morning," and he replied that it would be very hot later. "When you see the mist over the island you know what is to come."

  He was like most of the people on the island, very responsive to a show of friendliness. They all seemed to enjoy talking and laughing.

  I asked him what his name was and he told me it was Obadiah.

  "A good biblical name," I commented.

  "Oh... we're Christian, Mistress. We've been to the Mission School."

  "On this island?"

  "Oh yes. It's here for the little ones. They go to Mission School. They learn about God and how to add up. They're educated."

  "Have you been in the island long, Obadiah?"

  He burst out laughing as though that were a huge joke.

  "Why, Missie Lady, you must be joking. I was born here. People don't come to Cariba... not unless they is ladies like yourself or here for business... or holiday ... Our sort, we gets born here."

  "And you have worked in this hotel for some time, I gather."

  "Why, bless you, Missie Lady, I was working here when I was no higher than that." He indicated the height of a boy about ten years old. "Opening doors, I were, all dressed up in my fancy clothes. I was proud and happy all the day. Master he said to me: 4 You work hard, Obadiah, and there's no knowing where you can get to.' That weren't this master. Twere the other."

  "Oh ... the other?"

  "This 'un's Pa. A big fine fellow, like Master. 'E were Master's Pa. And now it's for Master to get himself a wife and a little 'un or two so's the plantation goes on."

  "I see. Master is Mr. Harrington."

  "Oh yes, he's Master. Owns about everything here, he does. He's the big man. He's the master. We want to see him with a wife and little 'uns."

  "So he has no wife yet."

  "No, Missie Lady, no wife. We thought when he came back he would bring one of them with him. They always likes wives to come across the sea. Nothing here fits the likes of the Master ... not for a wife, that is. Though there be Mrs. Manuel. But, you see, she wasn't free when he went away. Different story now."

  Here was Mrs. Manuel again! I gathered she was a good friend of Milton Harrington. I felt a little stab of something like concern. Jealousy? Uneasiness? I really was letting myself become involved with that man.

  "And what of Mrs. Manuel now?" I asked.

  "Oh, well... we'll be seeing now. It's good. Master coming back without a wife ... perhaps."

  "You mean Mrs. Manuel is now free to become the Master's wife?"

  "Master don't like talk about himself."

  "Who does?"

  He put his finger to his nose which I construed as meaning that he was realizing he had been a little indiscreet and he would prefer me to keep what he had said to myself.

  I nodded in response and I went on, changing the subject: "Obadiah, can you remember back... about two years?"

  "Two years. Why ... what's that for?"

  "You'd remember people who stayed here, wouldn't you? People from over the seas?"

  Obadiah tapped his head and grinned. "It's all up here," he said. "I remember back years and years."

  "Do you remember a gentleman who stayed here for a while? A Mr. Philip Mallory?"

  "A Mr. Philip Mallory. Now... that seems to bring back something."

  "He was a young man who stayed here. It was about two years ago."

  Obadiah rolled his eyes upwards and said: "Surely. I can remember him. A very pleasant gentleman."

  "He was my brother."

  "Your brother, Missie Lady, you don't say!"

  "You must have seen him often."

  "Oh yes. I see him."

  "And what happened?"

  "Well, he were here ... and then he weren't here."

  "Where did he go? Have you any idea?"

  Obadiah scratched his head thoughtfully.

  "Wasn't he one of them that do charts?"

  "That's right," I said eagerly.

&nbsp
; "Oh well, he went off charting, I reckon."

  "How did he go? Where did he go?"

  "He just went."

  "Did anyone go with him?"

  "Oh, I couldn't say as to that."

  "Try to think. How long did he stay here?"

  Obadiah shook his head. "Could have been one week. Could have been two... and then again it might have been three or four ..."

  "But you just said he went away. He didn't say where he was going. He didn't just walk out. He must have paid his bill."

  "Oh, I don't know nothing about that. Bills has nothing to do with old Obadiah."

  I could see I was not going to get any further with him. But he did remember Philip. That was something. There might be others at the hotel who remembered more.

  I talked to several of them that morning. Most of them remembered Philip, but there did not seem to have been anything mysterious about his departure. He had just come and gone as all other visitors to the hotel did.

  I wandered down to the waterfront. But I could scarcely walk up to people there and ask them if they remembered my brother. I felt frustrated, wondering if I would ever discover anything. I had pinned my hopes on Cariba and now I was here 1 seemed to have come to a full stop. Moreover there was Felicity to consider.

  I walked disconsolately back to the hotel. As I mounted the steps I was met by Milton Harrington.

  "I've brought a horse for you," he said. "I've arranged for it to be kept in the stables here. Come and have a look at her. How is Felicity?"

  "She seems a little better. She sleeps most of the time but she seems quieter in her mind."

  "Good. That's what we want."

  I followed him to the stables which were at the back of the hotel, and he showed me a pleasant little chestnut mare. "Her name is Excelsior. Don't you think that is rather pleasant?"

  "Very," I said.

  "Don't take her out in the afternoons. It's too hot for her and for you. She is sure-footed and understands the country. She's mild and friendly."

  "Of excellent character. I don't know how to thank you."

  He looked at me steadily and said: "You'll find ways of expressing your gratitude."

  I was silent and he went on: "In fact it is I who should be grateful to you. I am very happy because you are here. I hope you will stay a very long time."

  "But I have been here for such a short one. Who knows, if I stay too long, you might want to get rid of me."

  "Never. I want to marry and that would mean that you would stay with me for the rest of our lives."

  "Marry me!"

  "Don't look so startled. Surely you can't be. You knew my intentions."

  "I knew some of them, but I was not sure that they included marriage."

  "Have you been listening to tales of me?"

  "Are there such tales?"

  "Aren't there always? No one is immune from scandal."

  "Especially someone of your importance. I have been hearing about your power, this morning."

  "Oh?"

  "Someone called Obadiah. He seems to hold you in great awe."

  He said: "This is no place to talk of serious matters." He led me into the hall.

  Rosa looked up from the counter smiling at us.

  "We are going through," he said.

  "There is no one there, Mr. Harrington," she replied.

  "We want to talk privately. See that no one comes."

  "Very good, Mr. Harrington."

  She was smiling her secret smile, speculating no doubt.

  He opened the door of a small room which looked over the harbour. There was a balcony with chairs on it. He shut the door and we went onto the balcony.

  "We can be quiet here," he said.

  "You seem to command absolute obedience here."

  "Of course."

  "Your natural heritage, I presume."

  "Now let's be serious. I want you here... with me... forever. I want you to marry me."

  "Did you go to England to look for a wife?"

  "I suppose every man is subconsciously looking for a wife as soon as he understands what life is all about."

  "Your search was unsuccessful then?"

  "On the contrary. I found my wife on the ship coming from England, so the mission—if mission there was—was highly successful."

  "Not unless she agreed. You seem to have qualms about that."

  He came closer to me and put his arm about my shoulders. "I never accept defeat."

  "That's a bold statement. The most determined have now and then been disappointed in their hopes."

  "I know you, my dearest Annalice. You really want me... but

  you won't let yourself believe it. Your experiences in Australia have affected you as well as Felicity. But life is not like that. That was not a real marriage.

  "Naturally I don't think all marriages are like that—otherwise we should have a world of maniacs."

  "Listen to me," he said. "You'll find the islands interesting for a while. My plan is to sell up the plantation and go home to England. We shall have to see about the children's education and we shall need to be home for that. We wouldn't want them to leave us and go away to school on the other side of the world."

  I said: "I must remind you that I am engaged ... in a way ... to someone else."

  "Someone who lets you go so far away!"

  "There was a reason."

  "What reason?"

  "It is really between myself and my fiance."

  "/ should never have let you go."

  "I make up my own mind, you know."

  "So you made up your mind to leave him. He must be what they call a laggard in love. You would find me very different."

  "I have seen you here and on the ship and in Sydney," I replied. "Here you are like some little God. People are in awe of you, bowing down, almost worshipping you... and yet you behave like a callow youth in some ways."

  "In love, you mean?"

  "Yes. Imagining you only have to speak to me of marriage and I will thrust everything aside and say, Thank you very much.'"

  "That's love," he answered. "Don't keep me in the dark. Why did you come here? And why did this fiance allow it?"

  "He helped me to come."

  "Why did he want you out of his way for months?"

  "He helped me to come because he knew how important it was for me to do so. I will explain."

  I told him about the discovery of the map and Philip's obsession with the island.

  "He came out here and disappeared. I want to find out why and whether he is alive. He is my brother and we were more close to each other than most brothers and sisters. I cannot rest until I know what happened to him."

  "Didn't he write?"

  "His last letter was from Australia. He mentioned in it that he was going to some island and I know now that he came here to

  Cariba. What I have to find out is where he went after that and what happened to him."

  "You have a map, you say?"

  "Yes, a copy of the one which was found in our house. I made it. It is an accurate copy. I have some knowledge of these things."

  "Have you the map with you?"

  "Yes. Shall I get it?"

  He nodded.

  I went to my room, found the map and brought it to him.

  "The Paradise Island," he murmured. "This map is not correct. There is no such island."

  "But it is there on the map."

  "Who made the original map?"

  I then told him how the room had been walled up and when it was taken down we found the map with the journal.

  "You're bemused," he said, "because this girl had a name more or less the same as yours. My dear Annalice, you are a romantic after all. I am so pleased to discover this streak in you. There was a time when I thought you were all hard common sense."

  "Wouldn't you have been intrigued by such a discovery?"

  "Most certainly. So your brother came out on the quest and most mysteriously disappeared. He stayed here a short wh
ile... presumably he booked in like every other visitor. Where did he go from here? That is what is going to be difficult to find out. But this island ... if it exists, should not be hard to discover. You have the map. Look at it. Here we are." He pointed with his finger. "Here is Cariba, and the other islands. Here is the one which is a little apart from us and then... how far would you say this Paradise Island is? Thirty miles... according to this map. I have sailed these seas... frequently. I would say there is no land—north, south, east or west for at least one hundred miles."

  "What does it mean?"

  "That whoever made this map put in an island which did not exist."

  "I believe it is somewhere. There could be an error as to where. You see, the map was made from memory. Long ago the man who made the original visited this island when he was shipwrecked... and he made the map from memory afterwards."

  "Coming from a family of map makers you would know that to trust to memory is no way to make maps."

  "I know, I know. But there must be a reason behind all this."

  "Unless your man dreamed up the island."

  "That is a possibility. He was shipwrecked after visiting the island. He was picked up in an exhausted state."

  "Dreams perhaps. Hallucinations."

  "I had thought of that. But where is Philip?"

  "Several things could have happened to him. He could have been wrecked at sea. You have been in the outback. You see that life is cheaper in some places than in others. He could have fallen among thieves. There are countless possibilities."

  "What can I do?"

  "Call in help," he said.

  "Where from?"

  "Here."

  "Are you offering your services?"

  "Didn't you know I was yours to command?"

  I felt so happy that I could not hide the fact. I looked at him and I knew that gratitude shone from my eyes. I was going to shed a tear in a moment, if I were not careful.

  He saw it and said: "How I love you. In all moods I love you. Determined and strong and sometimes faintly acid. And now tremulous and sweet—and let's admit it, rather helpless."

  He put his arms round me and held me against him.

  "Admit this, too," he said. "You'd be rather pleased if I came into the project."

  "I just have a notion that you will succeed in everything you undertake."