Stormspell (7 page)

'Leave her alone. Curtis, there's a good fellow.'

Doctor Francis's request was delivered in deceptively mild tones, but they both knew it was only slightly above a command, and Professor Jason's nostrils flared.

'You handle your patients. John.' he advised brusquely. 'Leave me to handle my daughter, if you don't mind.'

Doctor Francis laid down his knife and fork.

'Can't you see the girl's upset? The last time I saw a face like that was in the operating theatre, just before one of my students keeled over. Believe me. I know what I'm talking about.'

'Sentimental drivel!' exclaimed Professor Jason harshly. 'Ruth's not upset. Why should she be? Howard is a stranger to her.'

Doctor Francis looked at Ruth, and she returned his stare unhappily. She knew he expected her to say something in her own defence, but she couldn't. Not after the conversation she and her father had had the night before.

'Perhaps—perhaps I will have a slice of toast.' she murmured basely, and avoided Doctor Francis's eyes as she stuffed the dry bread into her mouth.

Ruth had only a glimpse of Dominic that day. She was passing the bedroom later that morning when Doctor Francis came out, and he deliberately delayed in closing the door so that she might look into the room.

Dominic's eyes were closed, his face pale where it rested on the pillows. Celeste had complained that she had had to change the sheets twice during the night, and the whiteness of the covering contrasted sharply with the darkness of his skin rising above it. The unhealthy glaze of the fever was much less pronounced now. but his hair was damp with sweat, heavy strands straying across his forehead. Ruth knew a quite overwhelming impulse to go in there and bathe his temples with a cool cloth, and smooth away those untidy strands of hair. But of course, that was not possible. Her father had forbidden her to enter the bedroom, and he himself had emptied the drawers of her clothes, removing the necessity for her- to have any contact with their visitor. He was quite fanatical when it came to her association with the man. and she could only assume that it was his own dislike of him that motivated his actions.

Now Doctor Francis closed the door and looked down at her sympathetically. 'He's going to be all right. I promise you,' he told her gently, and Ruth made a helpless gesture.

'I don't know why I was so worried,' she commented, running a nervous hand round the back of her neck. 'Like Daddy said, he's a stranger—a drifter, probably. Why should I care about him?'

Doctor Francis's mouth softened. 'Don't you know?'

Ruth coloured. 'What do you mean?'

Doctor Francis shook his head. 'What are you. Ruth? Sixteen? Seventeen? Old enough to understand that one doesn't always need reasons for caring.' He put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. 'You're growing up, Ruth. And I guess you've never encountered a man quite like Mr Howard before.'

Ruth drew back. 'What are you saying?'

'Oh. Ruth!' He gazed at her impatiently. 'I wish— oh. I wish—' He broke off abruptly, and turned away, saying as he did so: 'Didn't I hear your father telling you to finish some translation? I think you'd better go and get on with it.'

He would have walked away then, but she caught his arm. releasing it at once when he turned to face her. 'Please,' she ventured, not quite knowing whether she was doing the right thing, 'won't you tell me what it is you wish? I mean. I got the feeling—is it something to do with me?'

'Yes.' The doctor inclined his head.

'Then—what?'

'You really want to know?'

Ruth nodded.

'Well. . .'He hesitated. 'I wish Curtis didn't keep you imprisoned in this place. I wish he'd let you out into the real world. You're going to find it very hard after—well, after he's not here any more.'

'Oh. I see.' Ruth didn't want to hear this. 'I— please, don't worry about me—'

'But I do,' retorted Francis forcefully, aroused by her acceptance of the situation. 'Your father's keeping you in a cocoon here, Ruth. You haven't got room to breathe. It's not unreasonable that you should be interested in Howard. Don't let anyone tell you it is. He's an attractive man, it's perfectly natural that you should be curious about him.' He shook his head. 'Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying you should get involved with him. In fact. I'd argue strongly against it. He's too old for one thing, and he's probably known more women than—well! I doubt you're to his taste, anyway. But you must accept that you're an attractive girl, and men are unlikely to be indifferent to it.'

'Me? Attractive?'

Ruth stared at him disbelievingly, and Doctor Francis made a helpless gesture. 'Of course you're attractive,' he muttered huskily. 'That hair, those eyes—Ruth, you're going to be a beauty. And the sooner your father accepts that, the better.'

'But I—'

'I know what I'm talking about, my dear. And I know it's not easy for you to understand with the upbringing you've had, but you've got to learn not to be afraid of your emotions.'

Ruth looked up at him bravely. 'I—I do know about love—'

'Love?' Francis grunted frustratedly. 'I'm not talking about love. Ruth, I'm talking about sex! Good old-fashioned sex! That's why you're so tied up in knots over Howard. You haven't learned yet what it's like to want something you can't have.'

Ruth moved her head helplessly from side to side. 'I don't understand—'

i know it.' Doctor Francis pushed back his thinning hair with baffled fingers, if you had a mother, she'd explain it to you. As it is—'

He looked as if he would have liked to say more, but he couldn't. With an upraised movement of his hand he left her. striding down the hall as if impatient with her and himself, and Ruth was left with the uneasy feeling that once again she was to blame.

On impulse, she went into the bathroom and closed the door, sliding home the bolt before examining her reflection in the mirror above the washbasin. For the first time she studied her image without shame, and felt the quickening beat of her heart as she searched the features Doctor Francis had said had the promise of beauty.

Could he be right? Had he been telling the truth, or just reassuring her? She found it hard to see beauty in the vaguely slanted depths of her eyes, eyes that were disappointingly blue and susceptible to bright sunlight. She had always wished for brown eyes, strong brown eyes, like Celeste's, that were apparently immune to the glare of the sun.

Her nose was unremarkable too, she decided, running a probing finger down its length, and her mouth was definitely too wide. She pushed her lips forward, as she had seen the models doing in the mail order catalogues, and grimaced at the result. She was no
femme fatale
, she assured herself firmly, remembering the term from her French grammar. Whatever Doctor Francis had seen in her must have been coloured by his affection for her, and she turned away disconsolately.

As she did so her hair, unconfined for once, swung against her cheek, and she put up a tentative hand to stroke its silky length. Her hair must be her best feature, she decided, looping it behind her ears. It had been loose last night when Dominic had touched her, when he had pulled her close against his hard body, and said those outrageous things to her. Her face burned with the memory, but it was not an entirely unpleasant sensation. He had made her feel excited and grown-up. and she wondered what he might have done if she had not made good her escape. Her lips parted in recollection of the disturbing curve of his. He had been going to kiss her—she had known that. And now she half regretted the panic which had denied her that experience. She was curious to know how a man kissed a woman. Not the circumspect peck that Doctor Francis had given her. but a meeting of the lips, as she had only read in Colette and Flaubert. She sighed. Doctor Francis was right. She did not understand the needs of her own body, and she left the bathroom quickly, before she was tempted to explore further.

Doctor Francis departed that afternoon, after assuring himself that his patient was on the mend. Ruth accompanied him down to the harbour, where the motor launch was waiting to take him back to Kingstown. and as they reached the small quay he gripped her hand very tightly.

'Take care,' he said, bending to bestow a warm kiss on her forehead. 'And remember what I told you. Get your father to let you come to Kingstown and stay with Mary and me. You could do with a few days' holiday, couldn't you? And some new clothes, from the look of these.'

Ruth looked down at the shabby tee-shirt and cotton skirt in inconsequent appraisal. 'I never wear skirts normally,' she confessed. 'But Daddy said—'

'I can guess what Daddy said,' retorted Doctor Francis dryly, and Ruth looked a little unhappy as she remembered the terse way the two men had bade goodbye to one another. 'But believe me, it's time you stretched the apron strings. Promise me you'll mention my invitation to your father.'

'I will.' Ruth nodded. But she didn't hold out much hope for its expedition. The Francises had invited her to St Vincent before, but her father had always maintained she was too young to leave the island without an escort. And as he never stayed away from Indigo, she hadn't either.

She bought some fish for supper, before going back to the bungalow. One could buy all kinds of seafood from the stalls on the quay, the men of the island relying on their catch to supplement their income. There was a small workers' co-operative, organised by Father Andreas, and the fruit and vegetables that grew so plentifully beneath the hot Caribbean sun were harvested and transported to St Vincent, and sold in the market there; but the island was small and in consequence the income was small also. Still, the West Indians managed to survive, and Ruth had always envied them their evident joy of living.

She was sauntering up from the harbour when she encountered the elderly priest himself, coming down the path that led to the chapel. Some years ago, with the villagers' help, he had succeeded in erecting a wooden building that served as both a house of worship and a dwelling place, and as Father Andreas's needs were small, he was well content. His contacts with Ruth and her father were mostly infrequent. Professor Jason's strong views on the weaknesses of religion and the power of the church vying with the priest's vows of allegiance. But he was always happy to see Ruth and now he smiled his welcome.

'I hear you have a visitor.' he continued, after their initial greetings were over, in the faintly guttural accent that still lingered, in spite of the fact that he had left Salonika many years ago. 'An Englishman, by all accounts. And you were his benefactor.'

'Oh . . .' Ruth waved her arm deprecatingly, 'all I did was find him on the beach. His yacht was wrecked in the storm, and he was lucky to survive.'

'Indeed he was.' Father Andreas scratched his bald pate. 'The Lord moves in mysterious ways, as they say.'

Ruth, smiled, her own beliefs less implacable than her father's. 'You must come and visit him. Father.' she invited. 'Doctor Francis says he'll probably have to stay here for several days.'

'Ah.-yes. Doctor Francis.' the priest nodded. 'A good man. a god-fearing man. A man one can trust implicitly.'

Ruth knew this was a sideways knock at her father, but she didn't respond to his remarks. Instead, she indicated the newspaper parcel in her hand, and said: 'I must go. I don't want the fish to go off. Daddy wouldn't thank me if I spoiled his supper.'

'That I can believe.' retorted Father Andreas dryly. 'God go with you. my child.' and with the sign of the cross he stepped aside to allow her to continue her journey.

But as Ruth passed him she turned hesitantly: 'Father Andreas?'

'Yes?' The priest stopped, too. and looked back at her.

Ruth coloured. 'I wanted to ask you something. Father.'

'Yes?' Father Andreas was patient.

'Yes.' Ruth explored her upper lip with her tongue. 'I wondered—that is—would you say I lived an unnatural life. Father? I mean.' she hastened on. as his button-bright eyes opened ever wider in surprise. 'would you say I was cocooned? That I was missing out on—well, on life?'

Father Andreas frowned then. 'Who has been saying such things to you? This young man? This Englishman? I thought he was in a state of collapse when you found him.'

'Does it matter who said it?' Ruth exclaimed. 'Is it true?'

The priest tugged at his chin with a thoughtful hand. 'I suppose one might say your situation here was not usual.' he admitted at last. 'Most girls of your age are in school or in work. But that has always been so.'

But am I so different from them?" Ruth appealed. 'Just because my friends are black, not white, does that matter?'

'No!' Father Andreas conceded that point energetically. in fact, it might be said that your life is everything a young girl's should be. You're intelligent. you don't discriminate between races, you care for your father; this is as it used to be. Perhaps.' he hesitated, 'perhaps your life is fuller than that of other girls. It is. after all. only a rehearsal for the next world. Myself. I think what some people call life is simply the devil's alternative.'

Ruth nodded, not altogether satisfied with his answer. She should have known. A priest was hardly likely to sanction any other course. And in any case, she didn't really know what it was she was supposed to be missing. Perhaps if she had told Father Andreas that Doctor Francis had made the comparison. he would have had more sympathy for her case, but he might not have believed her. and that would have been worse.

'Does that answer your question?'

Father Andreas was looking at her anxiously now. and Ruth forced a smile. 'Thank you. Father.' she said, avoiding a direct response, and with a nod the priest went on his way. his cassock flapping in the breeze that blew up from the ocean.

*

The next morning Dominic was much improved. Celeste told Ruth as she served her breakfast, giving the news with a certain air of smugness, as if she. and she alone, had the right to such privileged information. She was in Professor Jason's confidence, and the only nurse he had. and she took great pleasure in telling Ruth how she had assisted in changing the dressing on Dominic's arm, and that she had exchanged a few words with him when she had taken in his breakfast earlier.