Plantation Doctor (7 page)

“Maybe I will.” She spoke in fun but with an undertone of gravity. Obviously she returned Claud’s affection to the utmost, and would do anything she deemed ne
c
essary for his ultimate happiness.

Lyn fell into the habit of seeing Hazel almost daily. Mostly she went down to Palmas in one of the Denton cars with a native boy driving, but once Hazel unexpectedly came up to her. It was early evening, and Lyn had only just begun to dress. Hazel had walked round the bachelor dwelling, passed a few inexpert verdicts, and then said casually. “I haven’t bumped into Adrian since I’ve been here. While you’re finishing I might as well slip over and say how-d
o
. I won’t be long.”

She was gone for twenty minutes. Lyn could not have said why she timed the visit, but she did time it, nearly to the second. Hazel offered no comment when she returned, and they straightway set out for the port. Lyn assured herself that she was not curious as to what Adrian and Hazel had discussed, and resolutely put him from her mind.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Towards the
following week-end, on a grilling afternoon, Melia had a serious mishap. She had instructed the boy to spray thoroughly with disinfectant all the crevices of every room, but had come upon him half-heartedly using the plunger in the centre of Lyn’s bedroom and not caring that most of the liquid reached only the floor. Incensed, as she could be with the lower orders, she snatched the spray and climbed the step-ladder to demonstrate how every corner of the ceiling should be saturated to kill the hundreds of eggs which lurked in every crack. In her vehemence she miscalculated the reach of her arm, with the result that both she and the step-ladder toppled with a series of thuds to the hard, polished floor.

In a second Lyn was there, but her strength was unequal to lifting the tall, bony woman. Melia gasped a little and said imploringly,
“You leave me, Miss Lyn. Soon I get up myself.”

Lyn told the boy to take away the steps, and presently, with some assistance, Melia struggled to her feet. She was colorless and sweat dewed her face, but she insisted on staggering to the kitchen. One could imagine her repeating inwardly that it had been unseemly to collapse in Lyn’s bedroom.

“It is only my arm,” she kept saying to the anxious Lyn. “There is nothing, only my arm.”

Above and below her elbow the flesh was swelling and becoming discolored. Merely to flex the fingers of her
left
hand made her wince with an agony which must have been tremendous, for her years of loneliness had made a stoic of Melia.

There was only one thing for it. Lyn turned to the hovering boy.

“Find the doctor, wherever he is, and tell him about this accident.”

She got Melia to lie down on the camp bed, with the injured arm
outstretched
so that the bruised part could be soaked with cold water. Melia muttered that the coldness made it feel better, that soon it would be normal, but Lyn knew that she was so upset at causing an upheaval that she would have said almost anything.

When Adrian arrived he came straight to the kitchen. Quickly his glance flickered over Lyn and lowered to the recumbent Melia.

“I wasn’t certain which of you was hurt,” he said, taking the white-enamelled chair which Lyn had vacated. “The boy got his ‘missuses’ entangled. So it’s your arm, Melia. Let me look.”

“I’ve been bathing it with iced water,” Lyn said, “but I daren’t touch it in case it was something more serious than a wrench.”

“Good girl,” he said absently.

He was feeling with those well-kept brown fingers round the elbow joint and smiling encouragingly down into Melia’s taut face.

“No broken bones,” he stated, “but it’s a bad sprain. I’ll take you to the private ward, Melia, where you can have regular compresses and bandaging for a day or two. You’ll like it there.”

“No, Doctor. Not to the hospital, please. I will stay here and it will soon get better.”

“Tell me what to do,” said Lyn. “I’ll look after her.”

“It would be too much for you.” Adrian stood up. “She needs rest to ward off the effects of shock.”

“She can have my room and I’ll sleep in the living
-
room for a few nights. I’m sure I could manage.”

“Please, Doctor—” Melia sat up on the bed, her arm hanging limply. “I would be scared in the hospital. Let me stay here. I promise I will rest.”

“We’ll see about it,” he said. And to Lyn: “Come with me, will you?”

In the living-room he paused and looked at her. She was pale, her eyes had gone large and dark with anxiety and the short, coppery curls were flattened with perspiration. With an unconsciously nervous gesture she pushed a tress back from her forehead.

“Let Melia have her own way. I’m quite able to take care of her,” she said.

“Of course you are, but it isn’t necessary. I have a fully trained colored nurse who will give her all the attention she needs.”

“She’ll be frightened.”

“Not for long. It can’t be helped
,
anyway. She’ll have to be X-rayed and I’ll keep her under observation for a couple of days; internal complications can arise from a serious fall. She wouldn’t be easy in this house, because she just couldn’t bear to have you waiting on her.” The sherry-brown eyes were keenly intent upon Lyn. “What’s the matter
...
feeling rocky?”

“No. It’s the heat
—
and Melia’s accident was awfully sudden.”

“You do too much. A trip into Palmas twice a week is plenty. Young Roger Bailey tells me he never gets a glimpse of you now.”

“I spend a lot of time with Hazel Merrick.” With an effort she went on, “About Melia
—
will you be taking her at once?”

“I’ll send the nurse over in the ambulance within ten minutes.”

“May I go with her?”

“It would be best, if you feel you can.”

The next hour passed like a lengthy, unpleasant dream. Melia protested but eventually became dumb with misery.

When a male nurse and the colored woman transferred her to a stretcher she closed her eyes in the conviction that she had not long to live; she had forgotten that she was capable of walking out to the ambulance.

The clinic was a long, one-storey structure surrounded by thick low palms. It was visible from the back of Adrian’s house but the swimming pool and flower gardens separated the two buildings. The clinic was divided up into long wards
—
one for white patients and one for Africans
—
two small private wards and Adrian’s consulting-rooms and operating theatre. Another, larger hospital on the other side of the Denton estate was devoted solely to the native laborers.

Melia was put to bed at once in one of her own voluminous nightgowns, and Lyn sat beside her while the nurse tightly bandaged the arm and encased it in an ice bag. Then Adrian appeared.

“You’ll be all right, Melia
—
you haven’t a thing to worry about. The nurse is a good friend of yours. Ask her for anything you want. Miss Russell will come in to see you first thing in the morning.”

He drew Lyn outside. “You’ve done well. Come into my house and I’ll fix you a pick-me-up.”

Lyn moved beside him mechanically. Her shoulder was aching from the strain of trying to lift Melia, her whole being seemed enveloped in a haze of heat, and she felt slightly sick and hollow.

The sun was going down. Above the trees in the west, flames licked across a deepening sky. The swimming pool, as they passed it, reflected bars of red-tinged clouds and an arching tree. Small green parrots winged almost noiselessly from tree to tree.

They went up the back steps of the house, through a french door into a square library. The bookshelves were plain and cream-painted, made in sections to fit the walls. They were not over-full; no doubt Adrian had long ago learned the wisdom of allowing ample air to circulate among the volumes. All round the room, on top of the shelves hand-painted plates and old, decorative mugs were arranged in a color scheme which paled from bronze and indigo to ivory and eggshell blue.

Unlike the great desk in the lounge, the one here was small and without embellishment and the chairs were of curved steel with slate-blue upholstery which was detachable for frequent airing. A large white rug completed the harmony and comfort of the room.

“Take a chair and relax,” said Adrian. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

She sank into one of the low, hammock-like chairs and a sense of restfulness stole over her. After a minute or two of complete abandonment to the well-sprung lounger, Lyn realized that she was gazing at a photograph on the desk, the likeness of an elderly, distinctively featured woman with greying hair dressed superbly above a deep brow. His mother? she wondered. No, his mother had died fairly young. This would be the aunt Claud had mentioned, the woman who was half-owner of the Denton estate.

Adrian brought in a two-ounce medicine measure filled with a transparent liquid.

“Take it straight down,” he ordered. “It’ll settle your nerves.”

It hadn’t much taste, but left a bitterish aftermath. He took the glass from her and set it down, lowered himself to the straight-backed chair at the desk and swivelled to face her.

“You needn’t be nervous of being alone in your house tonight. I’ll put on a watchboy.”

“Thank you. I shan’t mind being alone.”

“I’d forgotten,” he said with faint mockery. “You’re the woman who was prepared to make a four-day jungle journey with Melia for your companion. The idea’s less attractive since you’ve lived in Africa, isn’t it?”

“I suppose. It doesn’t take long to lose that first rawness. But I’m still very anxious to contact Mrs. Latimer. Until I start in on my job I shall have the sensation that all this”
—
vague she indicated the exotic, sunset-glowing garden
—
“is a mirage.”

“It definitely isn’t that. Are you still angry with me for bringing you to Denton?”

“Anger doesn’t last for over, but I can’t say that I enjoy living here, knowing that both Melia and I are dependent on your bounty.”

“There’s no charity about it. My assistant’s house has to be kept sweet and clean while he’s away and there’s no better way of doing it than having the place occupied. Being a woman, you know that. As to supplies,” he shrugged, “the Denton profit and loss account won’t be much down on what it takes to keep you and Melia going. We’re all glad to have you.”

“Not quite all,” she said.

“That’s very much up to you.”

A boy came in then, with a tray bearing cups and a tall silver pot. Adrian had it placed on the desk and did the pouring himself.

“I ordered coffee instead of sundowners,” he told her. “Besides making you hotter, alcohol wouldn’t mix too well with that tonic you had and I’m not drinking
—
I have to do an op. tonight. Sugar?”

“Only milk, please.”

Their fingers touched as he handed her the cup. His were warm but not in the least damp. He was perfectly assured, as though it were a common occurrence with him to serve coffee to tired young ladies in his library and entertain them with the small coin of conversation. Yet Lyn was convinced that the only other woman at Denton had never entered this room.

She extracted a cigarette from the, case he offered, inclined it to his lighter. The lassitude seemed to be falling away, for she noticed, with queer clarity, the square shape of the watch on his wrist, the brown forearm glinting with golden hair and the ripple of muscle. For an instant, as the cigarette kindled, she raised her eyes and met his, and she found that his were speculative with an ironic gleam in their depths. Then both were leaning back in their former positions.

“Are you going into Palmas tomorrow?” he enquired.

“Probably. I haven’t made a definite date of it, but they’re sure to be expecting me some time as I didn’t turn up today.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to go with me to the native hospital in the morning. It’s on the edge of our native township, several miles from here. You haven’t been that way yet.”

“I
tried to persuade Roger to take me but he said he
’
d have to get your permission.”

He gave her one of those sharp little smiles. “And you were against that? You would be, of course. Have you ever visualized what would happen in the world if there were no rules and regulations
—
or is it merely that you can’t tolerate obeying
m
e?”

“Neither. I thought you’d refuse. I would like to go with you tomorrow. I can send Hazel a message that I shan’t be down till the evening.”

His nod conveyed sarcasm. “No one would expect you to last through two days without a breathless moment with Claud. We’ll be back in plenty of time for that. My aunt
—
this lovely person here,” with a wave of the hand at the photograph on the desk, “once said that a woman will forgive a man anything while he continues to make her feel that she’s away above the rest and the only one in the universe he’s any desire to make love to. Is that what Claud Merrick does to you?”

Her chin tilted. “It might be.”

“Well,” he said a trifle acidly, “I suppose all young feminine creatures have to go through it, but for heaven’s sake don’t take leave of your sanity. Don’t deceive yourself that a nice girl like Hazel couldn’t have a rotten brother. She
has
got one. There may be a woman somewhere who could wrench him away from the tropics and patch him up into something less selfish, but she’d have to be a lot harder than you are and a great deal of a realist.”

Lyn could imagine no reason for such emphasis. Adrian knew as well as she did that she’d be leaving these parts in a week or two.

The flare of sunset had faded into the dusk. Echoing through the rubber forests came the first drum-beats, and as their insistence became louder the compound boys began to sing while they prepared vegetables and the inescapable chicken for their masters’ evening meal. Reluctantly, Lyn got out of her chair.

“Thanks for all you’ve done for me. I’m very grateful. I’ll visit Melia tomorrow morning at about eight. Will that be convenient?”