Seven for a Secret (36 page)

We paused before the potter. There were two tall vases on his mat.

They were simple but in a way beautiful. Tamarisk admired them while the owner surveyed us through amused eyes. What was it about us that they found so funny? I wondered. The way we looked, the way we spoke, our general behaviour, which was different from theirs?

Tamarisk picked up the tall vases and the children closed in round her, watching excitedly.

She held the vases out to the man inquiringly and he named a price.

“I’ll have that one,” said Tamarisk.

“What are you going to do with it?” I asked.

“You’ll see. I want the other one, too.”

There was great excitement. Several of the women and more children came up to watch. The man on a nearby rug with his carved images looked hopeful and envious.

“You carry this one, Fred,” she said.

“I’ll take the other. I want the pair.”

“I don’t see what you are going to do with them.”

“I do,” said Tamarisk.

One of the children jumped into the air with glee. The others pressed round while money was exchanged.

“Come on,” said Tamarisk.

“This way.” The children followed us in procession. Several more had now joined us, as she led the way to the mission house.

She pushed open the door and stepped into the hall.

There! ” she said triumphantly.

“This is where they are going to be. We shall fill them with water from the stream, then stand one by the door, and the other …” She looked round the room.

“Yes, over there between the two windows. Now I want some beautiful flowers. The red ones. Red’s a lovely colour. It’s warm and friendly. Come on, we will fill them with water.”

The children came with us to the stream. They were jumping up and down with an excitement they could not restrain.

“And now the flowers.” She turned to the children.

“Come on. You’re going to help me instead of laughing at me. We’re going to pick flowers. Red … like this one … and mauve like this for the other.

There are plenty of them here. “

She was right about that. The flowers grew in abundance. She picked some and made the children understand

that they must do the same. She had one group picking red and the other mauve.

Then we all went back to the hall. Tamarisk knelt before the vase into which she put the red flowers. The children watched her in wonder and kept running up to her with flowers.

That’s lovely,” she cried.

“Here, that’s a good one.”

She took a flower from a little girl who hunched her shoulders and laughed with glee as it was put into the vase.

Finally Tamarisk stood up and exclaimed: “What a beautiful vase of flowers!” She clapped her hands and all the children began to clap too.

“Come on,” said Tamarisk.

“Now we will do the mauve flowers.”

The children were delighted. They fought together to be the ones who took the flowers to her. She arranged them with some skill in the vase and they looked beautiful, but no more so than those laughing happy children.

When she had finished the children clapped their hands, and at that moment Muriel Havers came in.

“What on earth!” she began, staring about her. I doubted she had ever seen so many children in the hall. They all turned to look at her and smiled, but they could not let their eyes stray long from Tamarisk.

“I thought the flowers would liven it up a bit,” said Tamarisk.

“They do, they do,” said Muriel Havers.

“But the children!”

“They just came in to help,” said Tamarisk.

There was a certain triumph in her voice. 1 thought: She has changed.

Something has happened to change her.

We had now spent three weeks on the island. The days seemed long and yet time flew by. Often I said to myself:

What am I doing here? I should go back. 1 kept thinking of what would have happened if Aunt Sophie had not seen Kate Carvel in Devizes that day. How different my life would have been then. I should be with Crispin, in blissful ignorance. No, it would not have done.

She would appear again. It would be a life of fear, of blackmail and pretence. Crispin’s words kept echoing in my ears.

“Something will be done.” He would have kept it secret. He was a man of secrets. Had I not always felt that? But I loved him; with all my heart I loved him, yet there were times when I would say to myself: But you do not know him. There is much that he keeps hidden.

Then I would say: I must go back. I cannot bear to stay away.

Tamarisk seemed to adapt more easily than I could. But she was escaping; leaving nothing that was essential to her happiness. Her father had never been close to her. Her mother had neglected her in her youth and there was no great love between them. She was proud of Crispin and liked him in a sisterly way. But that was all. There were no firm ties pulling her away. I could well imagine that in time she would tire of the island and its people . but now it was an amusing novelty and what she needed.

She had been mildly interested in Tom Holloway at first, but he was too serious to hold that attention. He was still grieving too much for a dead wife to be interested in Tamarisk. She was amused by Luke.

“That good man’, as she often called him with a note of mockery in her voice. 1 think she felt faintly protective towards him, which was unexpected in her. Usually she looked to men to protect her.

However, she did go often to the mission house. The children all gathered there as soon as she appeared and, of course, that endeared them to her. They fought to get near her and giggled at everything she did or said.

“They seem to expect me to entertain them,” she said.

“I must say they are very appreciative. Luke is amused … 2.97

and as for Muriel and John, they say it is good to get the children into the mission house, no matter what the reason.

She bought some more pots from the potter.

She said: “He greets me like a queen every time he sees me. The children keep bringing flowers to me. I told them a story the other day. They didn’t understand a word of it but they all listened as though it were the most breath taking tale that ever was told. You should have seen them! It was Little Red Riding Hood, actually. Miming mostly. You should have seen the excitement when the big bad wolf arrived on the scene. They laughed and cheered and kept stroking me and pulling my hair. I can tell you, it was a riotous success. Muriel says it should have been Bible stories. Well, I might try that, but for the moment it is Little Red Riding Hood and they will have no other. They know when the wolf is coming and pretend to be frightened They go round on all fours shouting ” Wolf! Wolf! Big Bad Wolf” . and the native equivalent, too. I can tell you, it is all great fun.”

I was very pleased to see her so interested and I know it delighted Luke.

A ship came in to the island. It was much bigger than the ferry, and there was great excitement. Tamarisk and 1 went down to the shore.

There was noise and bustle everywhere. Little boats went to and from the ship and a few passengers came ashore. They came over to talk to us, and told us they were doing a trip round the islands from Sydney.

They had been to Cato Cato and some others but one island, they said, was very like any other.

They were amazed to hear that we were staying here for a visit.

The children hung around and watched us talking together. The potter sold more cups and platters that after noon than he had in a month;

carvings, straw mats and baskets were also sold.

There was an air of sadness among the watchers on the shore when the ship departed.

The ship had brought some mail to Casker’s and there was a letter from Crispin and one from Aunt Sophie.

I took them to my room because I guessed that reading them would be something I must do when I was alone.

Crispin first:

My dearest, How I miss you! Will you come home? Leave everything and come now. I know I am going to settle this matter one way or another. I am going to make her agree to a divorce. I can divorce her. She deserted me to go off with a lover. I have all the evidence I need. I have set a lawyer working on it.

I cannot tell you how dreary it is here without you. There doesn’t seem to be any point in anything. What I want is for you to take the next ship home. Even then, think how long it would take. But if only I knew you were on the way.

It is going to be all right, though: I am going to find a way out of this mess. If only she had stayed away . for ever. But never doubt that I shall find a way. And when I have, if you haven’t returned, I shall come out there to get you.

I know you are unhappy as I am. In a way I am glad you are. I couldn’t bear it if you ceased to care for me. I would never have left you, you know, whatever had happened. I beg of you, come home soon.

Your aunt is missing you very much. I know she is very unhappy. I think she agrees with me that you should never have left us.

My love for ever, Crispin.

1 knew from Aunt Sophie’s letter that she too was questioning the wisdom of my departure.

2. We miss you very much [she wrote]. Poor Crispin is most unhappy. He really loves you, Freddie. This separation is breaking his heart, I can see. He is not one to love lightly. When he does his feelings go deep. 1 fancy he is a little cross with me because I told you I had seen Kate Carvel. He has to blame someone, poor dear. He says he will find some way of getting rid of her. He speaks with such conviction that I believe he will. After all, she left him. I don’t know what the position is exactly, but I pray that all will come right.

He needs you, Freddie. You would think that he was in complete command, able to look after himself. On the surface he is, but I know how he is suffering. It seems to me so cruel that one action taken impetuously in youth can spoil a life. But he won’t let it, and I fancy he is a man who gets his own way.

Dearest child, I hope you and your father are getting along happily together. I have no doubt of it knowing you both so well. He is delightful, isn’t he? Do let me know.

And, Freddie, I believe you should think of coming back. Your father wanted to see you. Is he ill? I should like to have news of him. Don’t keep anything from me. I sense something is wrong in his letters. It was one reason why I urged you to go, although I did think it would be better for you to be away until Crispin had sorted this thing out.

But now you should think about coming home. I know you have only just got there, but if you could write and tell me when, I think that would help Crispin a great deal.

Take care of yourself, my love.

God be with you, and much love to you, AS.

I read the letters several times. I thought of the many miles which separated us and that I must go back soon.

My father said to me: “You have heard from home?”

“Yes.”

“It’s saddened you. You are homesick, aren’t you?”

“I suppose I am.”

He put his hand over mine and held it for a moment.

“Should you tell me?” he said.

So I told him. I told him everything from the beginning:

my first meeting with Crispin, when he had made that unfortunate remark; of Barrow Wood, my work in the estate office and the love which had grown up between us. I told of the return of Crispin’s wife and our shattered plans; and I explained that Crispin had wanted to go ahead and had planned not to tell me.

“Yes, and that shocked you,” said my father.

“I think that is the root of the uncertainty. You love him very much, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And at the same time you are not entirely sure of him.”

“I am sure that he loves me. But…”

“But… ?” he prompted.

“There is something. I can’t explain it. It’s there. Even before this it was there.”

“Some secret?”

“I suppose that is what it is. It sometimes seems like a barrier. It is because we are so very close, because I know him so well that I am aware of it. But at times I feel I just can’t get beyond it.”

“Why did you not ask him?”

“It seems strange, but there has never been any mention of it. It is something which is on his mind, something he does not want me to know.

And then this happened and he admitted that he would have gone on with our marriage

without telling me that he was not in a position to marry me. This other thing seemed more real to me then. “

“You have explained,” he said.

“I think you love him without completely trusting him. Is that it?”

“I feel there is some secret he will not tell me … something important.”

“About his first marriage?”

“No. He believed, as everyone else did, that his wife was dead. That was why it was such a shock when she returned … as much of a shock to him as to any of us.”

“So it is something of longer standing. Some dark and shameful secret.

You think this of him, and yet you love him? “

“Yes. It must be so.”

“Love is more important than anything else on earth, you know.

“Faith, Hope and Charity, and the greatest of these is Charity.” And charity is love. It’s true. If you have love you need very little more. “

“I want to know what this thing is.”

“It was there when you promised to marry him. Yet you were happy and thought of spending your life with him.”

“Yes. When I was with him I could forget these misgivings. They seemed vague, fanciful and silly.”

“Some people are afraid of happiness. They regard it with suspicion.

It is too wonderful to be real, they think, and they look for flaws.

Have you done that, do you think? “

“Perhaps. But I am not sure. There ;s something there, and it haunts him.”

“He will tell you. When you are married to him and he has lost his fear of losing you. He will tell you.”

“Why should he be afraid to tell me now?”

“For the same reason that he was not going to tell you his wife had returned. Because he fears above all things to lose you.”