“My word,” said Edith, “her ladyship is in a nice paddy. She reminds him what he owes to her. You see Sir Edward had a very high opinion of her and she still has a business head on her shoulders. She’s the one who always has to have the last say in all business matters. And if she couldn’t cut him off with a shilling — as the saying goes — she could divert a big proportion of the shares. That was her word, ‘divert.’ Mr. Baines heard it distinctly.”

“To whom I wonder would she divert. To Captain Stretton?”

“Never! She could tie things up in some sort of trust … perhaps for Mr. Rex’s children if he had any. But she could make it so that he didn’t have all that much say in things after she’d gone. No more than he has now. Her ladyship is in a fine paddy, I can tell you.”

“And Mr. Rex?”

“He keeps saying he wants time. He doesn’t want to rush into anything and all that.”

“So he hasn’t definitely decided against the marriage.”

“No. It’s just that he hasn’t committed himself. He’ll come to it.”

“Can you be sure of that?”

“Oh yes, it’s what her ladyship wants and she always gets what she wants.”

“She didn’t … once.”

Edith looked surprised and I pretended to be embarrassed. “Well, it’s common knowledge,” I went on. “I was thinking of how put out she must have been about the Captain and Mrs. Stretton … but she had to accept that.”

“Ah, that was Sir Edward’s will. There was no going against that. But there’s no Sir Edward now, is there? And her ladyship has taken his place. You mark my words, Mr. Rex will come to it sooner or later. A pity he had to hang about like this … when you think of all those preparations Mr. Baines made for the staff celebration.”

“Very unfair to Mr. Baines,” I commented; and wondered whether I had gone too far; but Edith was incapable of recognizing irony. It certainly had been inconvenient for Mr. Baines.


June 13th. I have heard today — through Edith — that Sir Henry is taking Miss Derringham on a long sea voyage. It will be very beneficial to the health of them both.

“They are going to Australia,” said Edith. “They’ve a branch there. So have we, of course. After all, many of our main voyages are to Australia and back. So naturally we’ve our branch there. Sir Henry’s not the sort to go for pleasure alone. But of course they’re going because of the disappointment.”

“What does her ladyship think of that?”

“She’s furious. Do you know it wouldn’t surprise me if she punished Mr. Rex.”

“Send him to bed without his supper?”

“Oh, Nurse, you are a one for jokes. But she was talking about solicitors and all that.”

“But I thought it was only a postponement and that he just wanted Time.”

“Suppose she meets Another out there?”

“But surely there isn’t another shipping line like ours!”

“There is certainly not,” said Edith stanchly. “But Sir Henry has fingers in lots of pies. He’s a man with wide business interests. He might have someone else in mind for Miss Derringham.”

“Then what shall we do?”

Edith laughed. “You can bet her ladyship’s got the trump card up her sleeve.”

Yes, I thought; and I wondered what would happen when she used it.

9

June 18th. The Captain has come home. What a stir there is in the house. He is not as important as Rex, of course, but somehow he makes his presence felt. For the last few days Monique has been impossible to control — alternating between excitement and depression. “You’ll love the Captain, Nurse,” she told me.

“I think that is an exaggeration,” I replied deciding to be the cool nurse.

“Nonsense! All women do.”

“Is he so devastatingly attractive?”

“He’s the most attractive man in the world.”

“It’s a mercy we don’t all think alike on such matters.”

“People think alike about him.”

“Wifely prejudice,” I retorted, “and very admirable, of course.”

She tried on her dresses, exhausting herself; then she was depressed. I found her crying quietly one afternoon before he came back. It was not unusual that she should cry but that she should do it quietly was.

“He doesn’t want me,” she gasped between sobs.

“What nonsense,” I said nonsensically. “You’re his wife. And pray calm yourself. You want to be well for his return. Now come along. What shall you wear for the great occasion? These beautiful corals. How lovely they are!” I slipped them round my neck. I loved beautiful things and they became me as much as they did her. “These,” I said, “and that long blue dress. It’s most becoming.” She had stopped crying to watch me. I took it out of the wardrobe and tried it against myself. “There,” I said, “don’t you think that’s lovely. Don’t you see how right for a dutiful wife?” I composed my features in a humble and devoted expression which made her smile. I was finding that I could often lure her from a stormy mood to a sunny one by one of my little acts.

She talked about him then. “We did not know each other so very well when we married. He had come to the Island … only twice.”

I pictured the big gleaming ship and the irresistible Captain in his uniform; the beautiful girl and the tropical island.

“He was brought to the house by a friend of my mother’s,” she said. “He dined with us and afterward we walked in the gardens among the fan-shaped palms and the fireflies.”

“And he fell in love with you.”

“Yes,” she said, “for a time.”

Her lips were beginning to tremble so I started to play the amorous captain and the dusky beauty in the garden where the fireflies flitted about the fan-shaped palms.

Oh yes, poor Monique was certainly difficult during those days.

And when he was in the house it changed, because without meaning to he made his presence felt. And when I saw him I realized the attraction. He was certainly good looking — taller than Rex, more blond, lacking that reddish tinge which was Rex’s; but their features were similar. The Captain laughed more readily, talked more loudly; and I should imagine was less guarded than Rex. He was the adventurer type — the sea rover; Rex’s adventures would be confined to business deals. Rex seemed pale in comparison with the Captain whose skin was deeply tanned; his deep blue eyes were more startling than Rex’s topaz-colored ones.

I couldn’t help being excited by his arrival. But I did wonder whether his coming had added any happiness to the house. I daresay his mother was delighted to see him; and I wondered whether I ought to have a word with him regarding the seriousness of her illness; but perhaps that was for Dr. Elgin to do. Lady Crediton was cool toward him for obvious reasons and I heard from Edith that this seemed to amuse him rather than upset him. He was that sort of man. I was sorry for poor Monique because it became very clear to me that she was not happy. You’re fickle, Captain, I thought; the exotic little flower once plucked no longer charms you.

And I was thinking a great deal about Anna. I always do; but particularly now that the Captain was home. But it was long ago that he went to visit her and caused such trouble with old Miss Brett. I could understand the fascination he had had for Anna, though.


June 20th. The Captain came to my room this morning, nonchalant, at ease, very much the man of the world.

“Nurse Loman,” he said, “I wanted to speak to you.”

“Certainly Captain Stretton. Do sit down.”

“About your patients,” he went on.

Ah yes, he would be concerned about his wife and his mother.

“They are both a little better at the moment,” I said. “Perhaps it is due to their pleasure in your return.”

“Do you find any change in my wife since you’ve been here? Has her complaint … worsened?”

“No.” I watched him covertly and wondered what his feelings were for Monique. I suppose there is nothing more nauseating than to be pursued passionately by someone one does not want. I believed this to be the case with him. And I wondered: Is he hoping that a benevolent fate will give him his freedom? “No,” I went on. “Her condition is much the same as when I arrived. It depends a great deal on the weather. During the summer she will be a little better, especially if it is not too damp.”

“She was better in her own land,” he said.

“That’s almost inevitable.”

“And … your other patient?”

“Dr. Elgin will be able to give you more details than I but I think she is very ill.”

“These heart attacks … ?”

“They’re really a symptom of imperfections in the heart.”

“And dangerous,” he said. “Which means that at any time she could die.”

“I think that is what Dr. Elgin would tell you.”

There was a brief silence and then he said, “Before you came here you were on another case.”

“I was at the Queen’s House. You probably know the place,” I added craftily.

“Yes, I know it,” he admitted. “There was a Miss …”

“Brett. There were two Miss Bretts. My patient was the elder and her niece lived with her.”

He was rather easy to read, this Captain. He was not as subtle as Rex. He wanted to ask about Anna; and I felt a little more friendly toward him. At least he remembered her.

“And she died?”

“Yes, she died. Rather suddenly.”

He nodded. “It must have been rather alarming for Miss … er, Miss Brett.”

“It was decidedly unpleasant for us both.”

“She took an overdose of pills, I heard.”