The Takamaka Tree (13 page)

Their glasses touched and the champagne sparkled. Sandy wrinkled her nose as the bubbles tickled. The daisy-chain bracelet on her wrist glinted in the light and she wondered who she would be and where, and with whom, in a year’s time.

In the late evening they walked along the shore line, enjoying the balmy night air and fragrant blossoms. Petals lay strewn on the sand like confetti. Sandy was almost happy, walking by Daniel’s side. She did not know that they would be flying to London the next day. Daniel had not told her. He had decided that the best course was simply to arrive at the airport and take off.

Back in Room 27, Sandy showered and put on her nightie. She looked at herself in the mirror and almost laughed. The nightie had been laundered but it was still raggedly torn. She sat on the edge of the bath, wondering what she ought to do. They had not talked about what would happen now, although she supposed that she had better get to bed. Then she would pretend to be asleep. She could not bring herself to face the situation, or admit what she really wanted.

Daniel rapped on the door. “Come out, Sandy. You’re quite safe. I’m not going to attack you. I just want to get into the bathroom. You weren’t as shy as this on La Petite.”

Sandy opened the door a fraction, then rushed past Daniel and into bed. Daniel caught sight of her night attire.

“Such glamour,” he commented laconically. “I’ve changed my mind about your safety.”

But he did not touch her. He put out the light, and she heard him get into the other bed and stretch out with a luxurious yawn.

“Ah, that feels good,” she heard him murmur.

She listened to his movements in bed. Had he forgotten that he was supposed to sleep outside? And yet it seemed cruel to make him endure yet another night sleeping on boards.

“Whatever are you doing?” she asked at last.

“I’m sorry,” he drawled sleepily. “But I can’t stand another night sleeping on the floor, especially when…there’s this…lovely bed empty. You don’t mind, do you? Not outraged or anything? I’ll get up and pile some furniture between us if that’ll make you happier?”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Sandy, stiffly.

“Get some sleep then,” he said. “You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

Sandy digested this. “Why?” she asked.

But he was asleep.

She curled up on her side, listening to his regular breathing. It was strange to have this man so close to her, so vulnerable in sleep. Waves of protectiveness rose in her. She stretched out her hand across the pillow to the shelf between the beds and touched a small object wrapped in tissue paper. Her fingers explored it in the darkness, feeling the tiny hard circular shape. It was a ring. A gold band. The ring she would never now wear. Suddenly she found she was trembling.

Chapter Six

It was simple enough for Daniel to pack Sandy’s few possessions while she was downstairs in the hotel having the ragged ends of her hair trimmed by the resident hairdresser. Their flight took off in late evening and flew through the night to arrive in London soon after breakfast.

They spent the day exploring more of the island and visiting the doctor’s mountain home again. Sandy was certainly much more relaxed after her second talk with Dr. Lefanue, and while she was with him Daniel took one of the old footpaths over the mountain. Each twist and turn of the path brought breathtaking views of the sea and the luxuriant slopes swept with plantations of palms, small tea bushes, old cinnamon trees and vanilla.

Soon they would be leaving all this. Daniel stored all the sights in his mind. The teeming land birds delighted his heart, so free and wild and unafraid, their bright plumage providing a kaleidoscope of changing patterns of light. Green geckos slid up branches of trees, stopping to bask in the sunlight, regarding Daniel with unflickering stares.

His work on La Petite had revealed that the Seychelles were visited by many more migrating birds than previously recorded. Many ornithologists believed this was due to the shifting icecap and that the birds could be silently informing the world of changes in weather patterns. It was an interesting theory and Daniel did not disbelieve it. He had long ago come to the conclusion that mankind could be blind.

But it saddened him that he might never visit the islands again. He thought wryly that it was a pity the Seychelles were not available on the National Health. They might save many a prescription for Valium or Tryptizol.

How much Sandy would enjoy a real holiday here, he thought, with all the freedom and relaxation available for holiday-makers. He would have liked to take her across to Praslin to see the famous coco-de-mer trees in the Vallée de Mai, and to walk in the primeval forest of giant palms. Perhaps they might even have caught a glimpse of the rare black parrot that lived high in the branches above the exotic bamboo trees. Perhaps they might even have stayed at the luxury Paradise Hotel, a few steps away from the powdery white sand of the Cote D’Or…

Daniel pulled himself up for daydreaming. He was thinking about sharing time with Sandy, and he knew that it was impossible. Perhaps when she recovered her memory, she might return alone to the Seychelles. As Gabrielle Webster, she would be able to afford it.

“Do I look more presentable now?” Sandy asked pertly, returning from the hairdresser’s. Her hair was shoulder length, brushing her skin like a silky curtain, the ends relieved of the weight and slightly flicking upwards.

Daniel assured her, “You look fine and I’m sure you now feel a little less conspicuous without your ragged chop.”

A cloud passed over her face. She was trying hard to remember but there was just nothing there. “I wonder how it got like that,” she said carefully. “Surely it’s not some sort of outrageous punk fashion? Perhaps it’s the latest thing in
Vogue.”

Daniel considered this remark for a moment and then asked, “And how would you know about
Vogue
magazine? It’s not published on La Petite.”

Sandy brightened. “Ah, you’re trying to catch me out! No, it’s not a crack in my silly memory. There was a copy at the hairdresser’s. And very interesting it was too. I discovered a lot. I began to get the feeling that my wardrobe is distinctly inadequate.”

Now that sounded exactly like Miss Gabrielle Webster talking, thought Daniel. He hoped she regained her identity and her bank balance before she went on her next shopping spree.

As soon as the smartly uniformed bellboy began loading Daniel’s luggage into a taxi, Sandy realised what was happening. A surge of panic rose in her breast, and she went quite pale beneath her tan. She looked around wildly, wanting to escape, but there was nowhere to go. Her fate was to be beside Daniel, wherever he took her. She only felt safe here in surroundings that she knew, with people who were kind—the good doctor, the helpful Hamish Macarthur, even Bella and Leon.

But then she looked at Daniel and his darkly steadfast expression as he dealt with all the financial side of checking out of the hotel, and she knew why she was afraid of regaining her memory. Once she knew who she was, then Daniel would no longer take care of her. It was not so much London and England that she was afraid of, although the idea of a strange new place was frightening. She was far more afraid of the clever men who would know what to do with her mind, and in giving her back her identity, would take away the only person she wanted to be with.

As waves of this feeling washed over her, taking away her strength and leaving her bones as weak as flower stalks, she wanted to be very close to Daniel, so that some of his iron will and courage would uphold her for whatever was in store. So that perhaps he would feel her dependence on him, her love for him. For she knew now that it was love.

Sandy went to his side and put her arm through his. Her heart was beating rapidly in her throat.

“We are so sorry to be leaving this lovely hotel,” she said, her voice husky with emotion. She hoped the manager would think it was because of their departure. “It’s been wonderful, hasn’t it, darling?”

She looked up at Daniel, hoping he would know she was playing her part as Mrs. Kane. He looked momentarily surprised, but then swiftly planted a light kiss somewhere in the region of her ear. “Marvellous, darling,” he agreed.

Strange how that kiss settled Sandy for the drive to the airport. True, Daniel had only been playing a part too, but he need not have kissed her. She followed him through the formalities at the airport. He was a good travelling companion. He knew exactly what to do, quietly and without any fuss.

She walked like an automaton into the small waiting lounge. Nothing was real. The huge British Airways jetliner stood shimmering on the tarmac being fussily reloaded with fuel and provisions. Would they eat millionaire’s salad for their in-flight meal? Bella had told her that a whole palm tree was cut down just for the heart which was finely shredded and served with a delicate dressing. How long would it take to fly to London? Thirteen hours? She did not want to be in an aeroplane for so long, even with Daniel. And what would happen to her once they were there?

She caught sight of Leon standing among the small crowd of people waiting to see off friends. His face was crumpled like a child’s about to lose a favourite toy. There was nothing she could do to help him. People always got hurt. Suddenly she wished it was time to go aboard the plane, then at least the journey would have started.

But they were still waiting. Interminable waiting.

Daniel made her sit. “Keep calm,” he said. “I’ll go and see if there are any London newspapers for sale. They may have brought some on the incoming flight.”

“Don’t be long.”

“I’m only going to buy a newspaper.”

She nodded, but it did not still her pounding heart. Despite the fading heat of the evening, she was cold with perspiration. Civilisation was already too complicated for her. She wanted none of it if fear and anxiety were part of that life.

The plane had brought in a small selection of London daily newspapers, although they were already a day old. Daniel bought a
Daily Telegraph
and a
Daily Mail.
He thought Sandy might be interested in the tabloid. It might take her mind off flight nerves.

Daniel stood reading the headlines. His face did not move a muscle. His eyes devoured the disturbing news with a kind of speed-reading he had developed over the years. He turned to the
Daily Mail
and re-read the same leading news item and immediately made the decision. He really had no choice. He could not return to London now.

He went over to the check-in counter and smiled apologetically at the uniformed girl.

“I’m sorry but something very urgent has come up and I shall have to cancel our two flights. Is there still time to get our luggage off the plane?”

The girl, a more sophisticated Seychellois, was not at all put out. She looked as if she was quite used to passengers changing their minds at the last moment. She picked up a telephone.

“I don’t think the baggage has gone out to the plane yet, sir. I’ll make some enquiries for you.”

“Thank you. I would appreciate it. I do need certain equipment for my work.”

He then wandered over to Sandy as if totally unconcerned and gave her the newspapers to read. She gave him one of her sudden quick smiles, and for a moment he was appalled at the trust she had in him.

“Here you are,” he said. “Take a look at the big wide world. Don’t worry, there’s some sort of delay.”

“We seem to have been here ages.”

“That’s air travel for you.”

He knew that one of the outbuildings housed a small charter company. They mainly flew tourists out to Praslin, a twenty-minute flight, or to Bird Island, which was one of the rare bird sanctuaries. It was a gamble whether they had what he wanted, or whether it was already getting too dark.

Sandy turned first to the fashion pages. It was strange how unconsciously her hands sometimes did things that her mind was unaware of
.
How did she know where the fashion pages were? She looked at the line drawings of the sleek models and knew instinctively that once she had drawn such willowy creatures. But where? And what for? She took a pencil from
her pocket and began to copy the models in the margin of the newspaper. The flowing lines came easily to her. Birds, shells, Bella—now fashion drawing. What kind of person was she?

She was just about to say something to Daniel, holding out her drawing to him as he approached, but he suddenly seemed in a hurry and preoccupied. He took her arm, hardly giving her time to fold the paper. She hung on to it because she wanted to show him her discovery.

“Come on,” he said. “We’re ready to go. But there’s not much time.”

“All this waiting and now there’s not much time,” said Sandy, relieved to be moving at last. “If that’s modern air travel then I’d rather go by boat.”

“At one time that was the only way to reach the Seychelles,” said Daniel, almost pushing her through the doorway.

Out on the tarmac he strode along and Sandy had a job to keep up with him. He was not going out towards the jet, but had turned left and was making towards a small silver helicopter. Astonished, she could see their crates and Daniel’s leather bags being loaded onto it.

“Daniel, I don’t understand…”

“Trust me, Sandy. Trust me, and don’t ask any questions until I say you can,” he said in a low, urgent voice. “It is important, believe me, or I would not be doing this to you.”