Hotel Mirador (12 page)

By the time she was walking up into Mike’s porch, Sally’s head was beginning to throb. She pressed the bell and walked in, took off her hat and turned to greet Mike as he wheeled himself into the room.

“Hallo,” she said. “We’ve fixed everything. Exercises every morning, a swim in the afternoon and a spot of massage every evening to break up the adhesions.”

He smiled wearily. “Sounds like a full time job for you.”

“It’s nothing, really. Only half an hour each time, and if you’d rather swim with a man, you may. I suggest we get Tony along and find the lagoon each day for a few days. After that, you’ll be able to manage on the beach here in Shiran, or even at the Mirador pool. Then you need only see me twice a day, on professional business.”

“What makes you think I don’t want to see you otherwise?”

“Well, in a way I hope you will,” she said. “Only
...
don’t get a sort of fixation for me, Mike. It’s awfully common, you know—patient falling for the nurse if she’s at all presentable, particularly in private cases.”

His face looked thinner, his hazel eyes darker. “Don’t you like me much?”

“I like you immensely.”

“I’m glad your friendliness hasn’t been all tactics,” he said bitterly. “I’m not at all sure I want to go on with this therapy stuff.”

“Mike.” She came to him, shook him gently, chidingly. “I’m just a girl who’s been trained to help people like you. You don’t have to see me as the ideal woman as well. Once you’re on your feet you’ll soon discover that I’m anything but perfect, and you’ll start looking about you for someone prettier and more accommodating.” She smiled suddenly. “As a matter of fact, I’ve just the wench for you—arrived today! She’s a friend of mine—terribly attractive, lively, full of sex appeal, joie de vivre and what have you. She always stuns the men.”

“I’m past it,” he said briefly.

“I’ll believe that if you say it again in six months’ time! How about taking a walk with me?”

“Now?”

“Right now. I’ll get your sticks.” She collected them from the corner of his bedroom, came back and put the normal one into his right hand. The other she strapped above his left elbow. “Put the brake on the chair and get up on to your right foot with your arm round my shoulder. That’s it. Now let’s get this other contraption working in your left hand. Better than the old crutch, isn’t it?”

“Slightly. It’s hell on the arms.”

“We’ll have to massage those, too,” she said, almost happy now that she was really working on him. “I’ll go first and you follow about a pace behind. If you feel at all uncertain just make a grab at me. I’ll be ready to take your weight. Swing that leg from the hip—from the knee, too, if you can. All right?”

The fearful grunting noise that came from his lungs was hard to bear. Sally always had to steel herself against the defeated whimper of children, and this labored breathing from Mike was worse in a way. He hated his incapacity so much more than children did.

They reached the porch, turned gently along the veranda, where she said lightly, “You can rest here for a bit,” and plumped up a cushion.

But she didn’t help him down on to the canvas chair, and she let him arrange the sticks himself.

“You see?” she said. “You don’t have to use the servant at all. You can do it all alone. Just make him walk in front, as I did.”

“I feel as if I’ve climbed a mountain.”

“You will, for a while, but it will be a smaller mountain each time. The morning exercises will soon get you into fine condition, and then the whole thing will be easier.”

He lay back, pushed at his long hair. “It’s going to be the deuce of a long job, though, isn’t it?”

“Afraid so. In hospital, with medicated baths and so on you’d be through much quicker
...”

“I’m not leaving Morocco!”

“We know that,” she said soothingly. “That’s why we’re doing the long term stuff. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Ring the bell and order it. How long can you stay?”

“As long as you need me.”

His eyelids flickered and he got out a box of cigarettes. “That’s a funny answer. I need you all the time.”

“Not me, particularly. You’ve been too long without company. Does Tony come to see you?”

He nodded, and offered the cigarettes. “He’s got dates on the brain. I’ve never known him so keen on anything before.”

She bent her cigarette to the match he held, blew smoke. “I went to the date plant
ation this morning, with Dane.”

“You did?” He was watching her curiously. “Why did he take you?”

“Goodness knows. He didn’t enjoy it and neither did
I.”

A brief silence. Then he asked casually, “Was it Dane who told you to put me in my place next time you saw me?”

She hesitated, and thereby told him more than she intended. “He’s as much
against complications
as I am. As soon as you get feeling into that leg of yours you’ll be so grateful that it won’t be wise to trust your emotions. It may sound all very silly
...”

“It doesn’t; it sounds sense. The trouble is, I’m fed to the gills with wisdom. I want to go haywire.”

“You do that—but not just yet.”

The tea came and she poured it out. As usual, it was mint tea, and she drank it reluctantly, from a glass. She ate one of the sweet nut pyramids and lay back in her chair, looking with some degree of contentment over the garden. Here with Mike, this morning and tomorrow seemed remote; she knew a sensation of isolation from the Mirador, and was glad.

‘Tell me about the stuff you used to write, Mike. How much of it was imagination?”

“About an eighth—a reporter has to cling to facts and embroidery is only permitted if it flatters those who release the news.”

“Ever tried any other kind of writing?”

He shook his head. “Dane offered to get some ghosting work for me, but I wouldn’t have it. If I can’t do reporting, I’ll stay out of the writing racket.”

“What do you read?”

“Everything that comes my way.”

“Do you ever play the gramophone in your lounge?
”

“
I’m no highbrow, and popular music gets me down now that I can’t dance.” His mouth was sulky. “Dane brought me some new records and I smashed them.
”

“
You’ve got it in for Dane, haven’t you?”

“I thought you had, too.”

Sally didn’t answer this. She let a veiled glance slide over Mike’s face, saw a wilfulness in his mouth which was both a good sign and a bad one. Good because it indicated a stirring in his mental equipment, and bad because it showed a spoiling of his nature through illness. Oddly, now that he was giving in he was showing the worst of his character. He should have been grateful to Dane with all his heart, but deep down he resented having to accept so much from his cousin. Well, Sally had met that reaction to generosity before.

She talked idly, and waited till five-thirty before she got up to go. “I won’t come tonight,” she said. “We’ll start away on the full day’s treatment tomorrow. Like to go indoors?”

“No, thanks. I’ll stay here till the sun goes. Make it nine-thirty tomorrow morning.”

“Ten o’clock,” she said.

“Nine-thirty!”

She smiled and compromised. “A quarter to ten. And I’ll ask Tony to go with us to the lagoon in the afternoon.” She touched his hand, lightly. “We’re on our way, Mike. This time next year you’ll be driving again!”

She said goodbye and went down to the car. The driver sprang up from his cross-legged position on the grass and opened the door. Sally waved as they moved away. Then she leaned back in the corner of the car and knew the respite was over.

They were out on the road and gathering speed when a taxi growled past. Sally caught a glimpse of the single occupant of the back seat, turned and watched the taxi take the bend into Mike Ritchie’s drive.
Cécile
Vaugard visiting Mike? Sally puzzled it over for a few minutes, decided that it wasn’t really her business, and forgot about it

* * *

To Sally’s relief, the very next morning Dane was called to the phosphate mine for a few days. He looked in at Suite Seven at nine-fifteen, lifted a brow when he heard that Lucette was still in bed.

“That friend of yours knows a thing or two, young Sally. There’s nothing like plenty of rest and a merry outlook to keep a woman young and vital. In age, she may give you only a few months, but in experience, she’s years ahead of you. But she d
o
esn’t carry it in her face—not noticeably, anyway.”

“You’re wrong about Lucette. Her parents are terribly ste
rn
,”
S
ally answered coolly.

“I’m right,” he said equably. “Her eyes occasionally give her away. Don’t let her teach you too much, too soon.”

He told Sally he had to go to the mine, gave her a brief and mocking glance as he asked, “Feel any effects from yesterday?”

“No. Do you?”

“Nothing physical.” His smile was narrow as he looked down at the bare
, grazed knuckles of his hand. “
Told anyone?”

“No.”

“Just as well. Pierre assumed that I’d caught my hand on a wall somewhere. By the way, during my absence he’ll probably invite you and your friend to dine with him and Tony. Go ahead and do so, if you want to.”

“It’s very kind of you to consent,” she said stiffly.

“Not really. You see, I’m going to back the date plantation after all.”

“You are? I’m so glad!”

“Thought you might be,” he said coolly. “But I’ve made a few conditions. One of them forbids Tony to marry for two years.”

Sally stared at him. “Why would you do that? His private life isn’t your concern.”

He shrugged, smiled a little unpleasantly. “They invited me into the proposition and those are my terms. If Tony can manage to give everything he has to the plantation for two years, he’ll be set up, both financially and in his character. Incidentally, he’ll make a far better husband if he denies himself a few pleasures and works instead.
”

“
You’re very hard.”

“On Tony, or on you?”

“I don’t come into it.”

“You do,” he said crisply. “You’re more than half the reason I decided to support the scheme. You thought Tony should be given his chance, and upon reflection I agreed with you.” His tone was suddenly metallic. “Two years will give you ample time to discover whether it’s the atmosphere or Tony that gets you.”

“Two years!
I shan’t be here that long.” Then she realized the whole of what he had said, and added quickly, “I’m not falling in love with Tony.”

“Then why did you argue with me about the plantation?”

“Well, he seemed sincere about it, and it’s obvious that you could help him to make a success of it.”

He came back at her at once. “Do you often find yourself planning a man’s future after knowing him a few days?”

“This is different
...”

“I thought so.” He was taut and concise. “Let me make something very clear. Out here, you can imagine yourself in love simply because there’s a kind of magnetism in the air. If I had absolutely refused to take an interest in the plantation, you’d have been all sympathy and compassion
—
just as you’re all pity and emotion for Mike. But Tony is keen to settle and he’s backed by his father. If I hadn’t insisted on the no-marriage clause in the contract, he’d have been proposing to you within the next few days.
”

“
That’s absurd! There’s never been anything of that kind between us.”

“Because he’s had nothing to offer. Pierre was disappointed when I stipulated the two years.”

“And Tony?”

“He lost his smile, too. They both knew I was safeguarding you.”

Sally was becoming really angry. “I don’t need that sort of protection. Even if I wanted to make an impression on Tony and his father, it wouldn’t be your business.
”

“
Maybe not, but I won’t have you diving into your first affair right here in the Mirador and coming to grief.” His voice lowered, and he added with cool malice, “Love in these parts is suspect, and first love should always have a drab backcloth; then you know how real it is. After the first attack you’re a better judge.”

“Is that how
...
you’ve
found it?”

“Yes, Sally. That’s how I’ve found it.
I’ll
have to get going.”

But as he moved back towards the door the bedroom door opened and Lucette drifted in, stretching prettily and pushing pink-tipped fingers through tousled black curls. She looked drowsy and sweet in the tailored Chinese silk wrap, but her sudden smile at Dane was arch and inviting.

“Why, good morning. Were you shouting at Sally, you naughty man?”

He grinned, looked as if he couldn’t help grinning; she was like an enchanting kitten. “Good morning, Miss Millar. How do you like the Mirador?”

“It’s splendid
...
and so discreet. And you’re rather charming, too.”

“Why, thanks,’ he answered, with a sidelong glance at Sally. “You must tell me that again when I get back. I may be able to do something about it.” Nonchalantly, he bowed to them both. “You’ll excuse me now?”

He was gone, and Sally felt a lump as rough and large as a peach stone in her throat. He was beginning to hurt her in a way she had never been hurt before, and that was why it was such a relief to have him gone for a few days. Now she wouldn’t have to brace herself every time she stepped out of the suite; she could relax a little, and give herself completely to the task of helping Mike.

The following days had a serenity of their own. True, Tony sought her out and complained about the cold-blooded clause in the date plantation contract, and Pierre looked both sad and happy when he invited Lucette and Sally to dine with himself and his son. But because Tony was going to get largely w
h
at he wanted, and because Lucette’s shining presence enlivened most occasions, there was gaiety in their small circle.