Wealth of the Islands (27 page)

“
Where were you?
”
she
cried, wiping the sudden tears from her cheeks.

He grinned at her.
“
We managed,
”
he said.
“
How about you?
”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“
WHAT are you going to do now that it
’
s all over?
”
Anita asked Helen
.

She prowled restlessly round the room, touching this and that as she went, never quite looking in Helen
’
s direction.

“
I
’
m going back to teaching,
”
Helen told her.

“
In England?
”
Anita shot at her.

Helen shrugged her shoulders.
“
I really don
’
t know.
”
She sighed.
“
I might try New Zealand—at least your mother isn
’
t
li
kely to come out and visit me there!
”

To her dismay, Anita began to cry. She hunched up her shoulders and allowed the tears to pour down her cheeks, ruining her make-up and somehow destroying all of her new-found confidence and sophistication.

“
But what am I to do?
”
she wailed.

Helen took her by the hand and pulled her to the window.
“
Look down there,
”
she said.
“
Look at the swimming pool and the grounds of the hotel. Isn
’
t that what you want? Why don
’
t you stay on here?
”

“
I want
Peter
!
”
Anita cried
the
ha
r
der.

“
Then why don
’
t you go down and see if he wants you?
”
Helen suggested encouragingly.
“
You could ask him for a job here for a start and see what he says, couldn
’
t you?
”

Anita sniffed.
“
D
’
you think he
’
ll
mind
?”

Helen smiled at her.
“
No, I don
’
t think he
’
ll mind,
”
she said. She smothered her mild feeling of irritation with her sister-in-law and made her wash her face and put on some fresh make-up.
“
Why don
’
t you go now?
”
she suggested.

When Anita had gone, she finished her own toilet. The electricity had been fixed immediately after breakfast, and so
s
he had made an appointment with the hotel
’
s as yet untried hairdressing establishment, though what they were going to be able to do for her, she didn
’
t quite know. Her hair had been in and out of salt water too often recently to look its best, and the storm of the night before had just about finished it off.

The Spanish-American hairdresser, however, refused to be depressed. With scarcely a word of English, he cut and washed and finally set her hair in a style of h
i
s own improvisation, but which he assured her she would like. To Helen, it didn
’
t seem to matter very much. She allowed herself to be ushered from seat to seat, and did her best to follow one of the stories in a glossy American magazine, but even that couldn
’
t hold her interest. After the typhoon, and now that the gold was safe, nothing seemed to matter very much.

She heard a slight commotion in the main body of the salon, but with the noise of the drier in her ears, she couldn
’
t hear what it was all about, so she turned her attention back to her magazine. She was quite unprepared therefore for Peter
’
s angry appearance directly in front of her. He mouthed something at her, his face white with temper, and she ducked her head out of the drier to hear what he had to say.

“
What?
”
she said to him.

“
What have you done to Anita?
”
he shouted at her.

“
Anita
?
”

He slapped his hands down on the arms of her chair, making her a prisoner with the roaring drier just behind her.

“
Yes, Anita. What have you been saying to her
?
Why did you have to upset her?
”

“
I wasn
’
t aware that I had,
”
Helen began.

“
Oh, come now! You can
’
t expect me to believe that! Dragging her back to England because you want to go! Doesn
’
t it ever occur to you to consider anyone else
’
s feeling but your own
?”

“
Well, yes, it does, as a matter of fact,
”
Helen retorted. She had an uncomfortable urge to laugh, but she knew that Peter was in no mood for levity.
“
Perhaps, if you told me what
’
s wrong—
”

“
You won
’
t get away with it! I suspected from the beginning that you didn
’
t
like
Anita, but to do this to her—It
’
s too much
!”

“
So I see,
”
Helen said gently.

Peter looked slightly embarrassed.
“
I don
’
t mean you weren
’
t kind bringing her out here in the first place—
”

“
I wanted to,
”
Helen reminded him.

“
Yes, well, that was kind,
”
he agreed.
“
But why make her go home now
?”

Helen began to wonder exactly what Anita could have said to him.
“
I wasn
’
t aware,
”
she said lightly,
“
that I was making her do anything.
”

Peter stared straight at her. He looked very young and eager, and more bewildered now than angry.
“
Helen, tell the truth!
”
he pleaded with her.
“
Would Anita stay on here with me?
”

“
I should ask her,
”
Helen said.

“
You won
’
t stop her?
”

“
I wouldn
’
t want to try,
”
she assured him.

He stood up straight, looking more puzzled than ever.
“
I can
’
t understand it,
”
he said.
“
Why should she want me to believe that you were going to take her away to England
?”

Helen smiled.
“
Perhaps she wanted to see if you would stop her?
”
she
suggested.

To her amusement, Peter
’
s white face went quite pink.
“
Oh, do you think so?
”
he asked her, mightily pleased.

“
I do,
”
Helen laughed.
“
But I think I should warn you that your future mother-in-law is something more than a music-hall joke. I know, believe me!
”

He grinned, momentarily amused.
“
She won
’
t bother me,
”
he declared.
“
America won the last War of Independence and I intend to see that
she
wins this one
too if necessary!
”

Helen could only admire his attitude.
“
Good for you!
”
she said. She hoped he would win, but her own experience with her mother-in-law had made her rather bitter on the subject and she knew it.

Peter kissed her lightly on
the
cheek and put up a teasing hand to feel if her hair were dry.
“
Another few minutes,
”
he said professionally.
“
But you
’
d better hurry it up,
”
he added as an afterthought.
“
Gregory is looking for you!
”

Helen sank back under the drier, aghast at the awful apathy that grasped her. Only one thought kept hammer
i
ng at her sheer reluctance to do anything in case she ran into Gregory. She had to keep away from him. She would find it quite pleasant to go to New Zealand and find herself a job there. She would grow to like teaching again, she knew she would. But
not
if she had to argue every inch of the way with Gregory first. They would go round and round in circles, making themselves more and more miserable, when all the time she knew perfectly well what had to be done.

She had fallen in love and she had married Michael Hastings. It was too late now to regret that fact. It had happened. And, because it had happened, it meant that what she felt whenever Gregory came near her was not love at all! Why, she had loved Michael, hadn
’
t she? She had worried about him, and she had liked him, and
she
would have gone on liking him. She certainly hadn
’
t wanted to kiss him at one moment and hit him the next. She hadn
’
t hated him so much that she had been spent with sheer agony of the emotion. Nor had she wanted his attention, his
exclusive
attention, in spite of disliking him. She hadn
’
t cried all over him at the slightest excuse, but then she hadn
’
t laughed much either. And that had been love? It must have been love, she told herself desperately. People like her didn
’
t marry the Michaels of this world for no reason at all—did they?

By the time the hairdresser had released her from the drier, and had combed out her hair to his satisfaction amidst a shower of Spanish superlatives as to how perfectly it had turned out, Helen was thoroughly frightened. She hurried away from the salon to her room and did her best to restore some kind of order amongst her emotions. Life, she told herself grimly, had to go on. And she wasn
’
t helping things, or herself, to go on like this, scared as a rabbit and twice as silly!

The telephone rang. Helen forced herself to answer it with a quiet
“
Yes
”
that gave nothing away.

“
It
’
s Anita!
”
a female squeal told her.
“
Peter and I are going to
get married! And, Helen, Gregory wants you—
now
!
”

“
You
’
d better come,
”
Anita said quickly.
“
I think he
’
ll come and get you otherwise!
”

Helen slammed down the receiver. She would have
to go, she supposed, but she was not pleased at being summoned in such a cavalier way. Even so she couldn
’
t help noticing that she did look nice. She caught a glimpse of herself in the looking glass as she walked across the roo
m
, smart, even a little sophisticated, and looking faintly unfamiliar in a tailored coat and skirt. She only hoped she could find a manner to match when she told Gregory that she was leaving just as soon as
she
could lay on the pilot to take her out of the Islands and back to New Zealand.

It seemed as though everyone had gathered in the
foyer downstairs. Peter was busily opening bottles of Californian champagne to celebrate his engagement to Anita and everyone else had gathered round to join in the general excitement. At first, Helen didn
’
t see Gregory. She was busy congratulating Anita, suddenly overwhelmingly glad at her sister-in-law
’
s happiness.

“
Don
’
t let anything spoil it for you,
”
she whispered to her.