Wealth of the Islands (26 page)

“
What
’
s the matter?
”
she asked her.

“
The children,
”
the woman gasped.

“
What about the children?
”
Helen asked her. But the woman would say no more.

“
Having trouble?
”
Gregory whispered. Helen nodded. She pointed to the woman and explained what she had said.

“
Perhaps she means her
c
hildren,
”
he hazarded.
“
I
’
ll ask her.
”
He knelt down beside her on the floor, holding his hand tightly over his thigh to ease the pressure on his found. He was as gentle as Helen had ever seen him and her eyes misted over with tears as she watched him console the tearful creature between them, speaking to her in the pidgin English that all the Islanders understood as well as they did their own tongue.

“
She
’
s lost her children,
”
he said to Helen, when he had finally got the story out of her.
“
Her husband insisted that she should come to the long hut alone. He
’
s still outside looking for the youngsters and she fears for their lives.
”

“
Where were they when she last saw them?
”
Helen asked.

“
On the other side of the island: They
’
d gone to look at the place where the shark was killed.
”

“
Alone?
”
Helen was appalled by the thought. She knew the difficulty they had had in coming the short way from the hotel. How could small children find their way right across the island alone?

“
What are we going to do?
”
she murmured.

“
There
’
s only one thing we can do,
”
Gregory said in a voice that was drained of all emotion.
“
I shall have to go
out
and look for them. At least I
s
hould
run into their father somewhere along the
route.
”

“
But you can
’
t!
”

“
I must,
”
he replied more gently still.
“
You don
’
t understand. When the eye of the typhoon passes over, who knows what it might bring with it? There may be a tidal wave that will completely submerge a
small beach like that. And if it goes directly over us. there won
’
t be much left in its path.
”

“
But why does it have to be you?
”
she pleaded.

His eyes were as dark and as enigmatic as ever.
“
Would you rather that I left them to their fate?
”
he asked.

She shook her head and turned away from him. She hadn
’
t much left, but at least she had enough pride not to show him how frightened she was. She wouldn
’
t even look up when he stood up and tightened his leather belt round his waist. And it was too late when she turned to tell him that, after all, she knew he had to go. Gregory had already slipped out through the grass-plaited wall and was gone.

They were left in no doubt when the centre of the typhoon passed over. There was a minute
’
s breathless hush, when the wind dropped to a murmur and the rain ceased as abruptly as it had started. In the long
hut, the chatter that Miss Corrigan had so ably encouraged muted to a startled intake of breath and ceased altogether. The waiting seemed endless.

“
Pray heaven Gregory has found those children!
”
Miss Corrigan said.
“
This is what I meant when I said it would get worse
!”

It was like an agony to listen and to hear nothing. Then like a roar, they heard it coming. First they
could hear the churning sea, whirling into a circula
r
pillar of water, dust and cloud that hit the land, with such a force that the whole island trembled. There was the sound of rushing water, which came so close that Helen thought it must go right over them. It reached the outskirts of the village and swept away some of the huts, before it roared out to sea again.

But if the tidal wave was to do damage, it was nothing like that wrought by the whirlwind as it circled round the island like some crazy giant, uprooting trees and tossing whole buildings from one end of
the island to the ot
h
er. Nothing could escape its fury. Roofs were to
rn
off the Government buildings and corrugated iron whirled hundreds of feet into the air, to come crashing down many miles away, if it were ever to reappear at all. The whole island was shattered, trampled on, and the cultivated land ruined by the salt from the sea.

Then, as suddenly as it had ceased, the rain poured down again and. the wind buffeted against what remained as angrily as ever.

“
Is it safe to go out now
?”
Helen asked.

Miss Corrigan nodded.
“
But I doubt you
’
ll find him,
”
she said.
“
You
’
d do better to wait here for him to come back to us. He
’
ll come, never fear. Gregory de Vaux is not the type to allow himself to be washed away.
”

“
But his leg was hurting him!
”
Helen burst out
“
It had started bleeding again
!
Didn
’
t you notice?
”

“
I noticed. I didn
’
t figure it would help to remark on it!
”

Helen stood helplessly looking out at the stricken night.
“
You don
’
t understand—
”
she
began.

“
My dear girl, it
’
s as plain as the nose on your face!
”
Miss Corrigan contradicted her.
“
You
’
ve fallen in love with
the
man and you can
’
t bear to be apart from him! We
ll
, that
’
s natural enough! But you
’
d do better to wait for him here all the same.
”

Helen was shocked.
“
But that isn
’
t right!
”

Miss Corrigan
’
s dewlap quivered.
“
What isn
’
t right?
”

“
I
’
ve been in love,
”
Helen said faintly.
“
I
’
m
not
in love with Gregory.
”

“
Then I
’
d like to know what you call it!
”
the old lady snorted.

Helen stared at
her.
“
I work for him,
”
s
h
e
said.
“
And he doesn
’
t like women anyway. Right from the start
I’ve
had to be better than anyone eke he could get, or he would have sacked me on the spot—
”

“
And who told you he didn
’
t like women?
”
Miss Corrigan demanded crossly.
“
He likes me. well enough!
”

“
That isn
’
t what I meant,
”
Helen said uncomfortably.

“
That
’
s obvious!
”
Miss Corrigan agreed.
“
My, but your father would have been ashamed that any daughter of his would turn out to be so stupid, half-baked—yes,
adolescent,
Helen MacNe
i
l!
”

“
I
’
m not a MacNeil any longer,
”
Helen said flatly.
“
I
’
m Helm Hastings now
!”

“
And much good it
’
s done you! When you came here, at least you were honest enough to admit that you didn
’
t know whether you had been in love with Michael Hastings. It
’
s odd that you seem to have become more and more sure of it!
”

Aware that the islanders were watching the irate old lady with open mouths, Helen swallowed her own anger, contenting herself with glaring out into the darkness. She would go back to teaching and never go diving again. Teaching was a nice, safe profession where one met nobody but eager children, who might be dull, but who didn
’
t expect more from their teacher than
she
was prepared to give.

“
I
’
m not sure,
”
she said.
“
I
’
m not sure of anything!
”

“
Then you
’
d better get the children engaged in some game until you are sure!
”
Miss Corrigan told her tartly. She was rewarded by a rather limp smile and patted Helen hard on her arm.
“
Just don
’
t go on mooning about Michael Hastings. He isn
’
t worth it dead and he wasn
’
t worth it alive. Whatever Anita might think!
”
she added crushingly.

It was morning before the wind dropped. The dawn flooded over the Pacific Ocean in a haze of colour. Clouds
,
that had been dark and threatening the night before, were now no more than pink, apricot and yellow fluffs of cotton wool. Only the long trails of vapour across the horizon gave evidence to the trail of the typhoon which had passed that way. The sea was a strong royal blue, capped with dancing crowns of white, which had nothing in common with the tidal wave that had swept across the island the night before.

It was a second or two before Helen could remember where she was. The sun crept across the floor, casting peculiar patterns of shade as it came in in through the plaited walls. Everything in
t
he long hut was damp and steaming and the people presented a sorry sight. Dirty puddles had gathered on the mats on the floor and the children had lain in them and were all of them muddy, tired and fractious. The grown-ups sat in silence, awed by the relief that gripped them that it was all over and that they, at least, had escaped; the fury of the storm comparatively unscathed. A dog, who taken shelter unnoticed with his young master, barked loudly, his tail wagging ferociously with sheer joy of living. Somewhere else, a woman hugged her children to her, chiding them for the mess they had got themselves into.

Helen forced herself upright and yawned. Miss Corrigan was still asleep. Her mouth had fallen open and her clothes were wet and sadly crumpled. Helen covered her with a blanket, feeling a rush of tenderness for her. How old was she, to wal
k
uncomplainingly through the storm to bring comfort to a few of her islanders? She would be stiff and uncomfortable for days after this and yet she had probably thought it all worth it. But Helen herself couldn
’
t stay in the hut any longer. She stretched her arms and legs and was pleased to find that she wasn
’
t stiff at all. She wasn
’
t even tired any longer.

Outside, the sun was already warm, but the smell of the fresh air was the best part of the morning. She filled her lungs with it, while she looked around the village, to see what was left and what could be rebuilt. And then she saw him. Gregory came down the track towards her,
followed by three small children. A few feet behind the children came their father, proud and smiling, but Helen hardly saw him at all. It was enough for her to know that Gregory was safe.