Pact without desire Page 7

  'During the day, no,' said Sara. 'And I shouldn't think of asking him.'

  'Funny,' mused Isabel. 'When I used to come out here before I married Cliff, I had only to lift the phone and call Rede, and he would come running.

  Times must have changed.'

  'They have,' Sara agreed levelly. 'He says he's busier now and with more responsibility than for years past.'

  'Or could that be a front that's been forced on him? I mean—a kind of escape route from two women at home in competition for his attention?'

  'Two women?'

  Isabel's eyes widened in question. 'Well, aren't there now? I mean, Rede may think he's made a master move, but it's asking rather a lot to expect people to swallow that the little Malay is merely a student he's sponsoring? Not to mention expecting too much of you, to harbour her under your own roof! What do they call that kind of threesome in French? Une ménage a trois, isn't that it? So difficult for you to explain away—Rede should know better. And really, you know, everyone will be agog to know how you let him sell you the idea. Or why, for that matter, he needed to, so soon after your whirlwind romance and your special licence marriage?'

  Sara had felt her blood chill. 'It wasn't a special licence marriage,' she said. 'And what idea are you talking about?'

  'Tch! You can't be that dumb! ' Isabel scoffed.

  'I don't think I am,' Sara said as evenly as she could. 'I know you're hinting at something pretty odious about Rede and myself and Kluai Mai, but you certainly owe me some plainer speaking than hints.'

  PACT' WITHOUT DESIRE

  'And be threatened with slander?' Isabel shook her head. 'Oh no, you don't get me that way, when you must know perfectly well what I mean about Rede's getting his cake and eating it. And though of course it's being done all over—which is why Temasik wants its staff to be married—it took Rede to think up the novelty of installing his young friend in his own house and asking his wife to chaperone her. Brilliant, that. Totally above suspicion! And when other men are making do with back-street, hole-and-corner afternoons, Rede is sitting pretty, rectitude personified, while you, my dear, mutt that you are, actually stand for it! '

  'Stand for my husband's keeping his mistress in the same house as he keeps me—is that what you're saying?' Sara enquired.

  Isabel shrugged. 'You said it. I didn't.'

  'But it's what you meant. And how, in those circumstances, do you suggest they could meet there in secret without my knowing?'

  'Oh dear, haven't the child's bijou quarters got a separate entrance? With a lock and key? Too remiss of Rede to have overlooked a detail like that.' Isabel's tone affected deep concern, rousing Sara to furious retort.

  'They have—both a lock and a key,' she said tautly. 'When Kluai Mai isn't at school, she's usually in them; when Rede is at home we're mostly together, and when he isn't, it's seldom that I don't know where he is. But if there are any facts you still need to fill out your hints, why don't you ask

  Rede for them to his face? I'll arrange for him to see you any time you wish.' -

  'As if he'd tell me, or admit anything! Be your age, do,' Isabel urged, adding, 'What's more, I'll take a bet you won't face Rede with any of this either. You'd be afraid to—either of his refusing to answer, or even more afraid of his admitting I'm right.'

  'Which isn't remotely likely,' Sara claimed proudly.

  'No? Though I rather wonder—You know, I do wonder whether, after chasing me without result for so long, he may have married you, not only on the rebound from me, but because he already had this set-up in view—import a wife first, and then, however attractive the young protegee may be, with everything above board and in the open, who's going to dare to throw any stones?'

  'It doesn't seem to have deterred you,' Sara pointed out.

  'I don't scandalmonger for the sake of it,' Isabel declared loftily. 'I've only tried to open your eyes in private to signposts which I'd have thought you could read for yourself. For instance, the Culture School doesn't train people for fun. So how is the girl being financed? Never asked yourself that? Nor asked Rede?'

  'Rede and his friends the Bartrams are sharing the cost.'

  'Phooey! I've met them, and they're quite old. Only missionaries, at that. But if that's what Rede

  has told you, believe him, do. It's you who have to live with him, after all.' Isabel stubbed her cigarette, stretched and went to the front of the stall. 'It's stopped raining,' she announced. 'Now Ina had better produce some customers, or I'm packing it in and going home.' She had filled an idle hour to her evident satisfaction. The same hour for Sara had crystallised doubts and fears which she wouldn't have admitted to Isabel for the world.

  But now they were there in her mind, poisoned darts at the ready. There was George Merlin's boast of his freedom to keep a mistress on the premises, whereas men in the city needed the respectable cover of a wife for their affairs. There was Mai's freedom to come and go and to entertain whom she pleased in the cottage. There were hours of Sara's own absence from the house when Rede could visit her there. They could even meet in the city when Mai was supposed to be at school. There was Mai's uninhibited admiration of Rede, and even her assumption of his and Sara's ideally happy marriage could be a front of flattery for Sara's deception. There was Rede's lie—if it were a lie—that the responsibility for Mai's expenses was not his alone. (And if it weren't a lie, why had he pressed Sara to ask the question, if not to satisfy himself that she believed what he wanted her to?)

  And—worst of all—Isabel's shrewd guess at Rede's purpose in marrying her was confirmed by a truth which she knew. Before he had met her or proposed to her, he had arranged for Mai to come

  to Singapore; had allotted her the cottage, and so found himself with a 'use' for a wife which would stifle gossip at its source. Against all Sara's fairer judgment of both Rede and Mai, it all seemed to add up.

  In this new light, unable to resist a temptation to watch them together, on arriving home she pushed a note under Mai's door, asking her to dinner. Rede was not yet in when the girl came over to the house, so was not there to hear her bubble, 'This is my lucky day—the evening with you both tonight, and lunch with Rede this morning! He had to go down to the docks on business, so he called in at the School and took me out.'

  Would Rede have told her this? Sara wondered. Yet how could she suspect Mai's eager blurting of it? 'Where did you go?' she asked.

  'Into Chinatown. We had laksa. You know laksa?' Sara thought she did. 'Isn't it noodles with spiced coconut sauce and herbs?' she suggested.

  'Yes—a Nonya dish. That's Chinese food, cooked Malay style. You should taste my laksa—I make it deliciously. Don't I?' Mai appealed to Rede, who came in just then.

  Sara held her breath for his reply but learned nothing from it. 'Do you?' he said carelessly.

  Mai's pretty lips formed a childish pout. 'You have forgotten that when you came to Kota Tingii in January I cooked a meal for you and you said then that it was--"out of this world"? A funny say-

  ing, I thought. But it means very good, perfect, does it not?'

  Sara breathed more freely. So—no clandestine meals a deux when she herself was not around. Nothing for suspicion there. Nor was there throughout Mai's evening with them. She chattered dance techniques to Rede and clothes and food talk to Sara. She invited Sara to what would amount to her passing-out parade at the end of the month, a dance display after which she would end her novice status, could take on some pupils and might be chosen for some occasional paid engagements. When she left Rede went with her, and Sara bade him goodnight, saying she was going to bed.

  But in her room moonlight was striking silver bars across bed and floor, and without switching on the light, she went over to the balcony and out into the warmth of the night. She leaned on the little balustrade, watching for Rede's return from the cottage. It stood at right angles to the main building and in the moonlight the doorway was fully visible. But there was no movement there; the door was closed; the cottage was light
ed and Sara calculated that it was impossible for Rede to have regained the house in the few minutes it had taken her to come upstairs. That meant—? All her sick doubts returned.

  She blamed herself. She had told Mai she was going to bed, and so wouldn't know how long Rede stayed. He was still there : that was certain now. She stared at the door, willing it to open 'before

  I've counted ten', she begged of Fate. But though the sheer concentration of her gaze tricked her more than once into believing it did open, she could have counted to ten many times before Rede's figure was silhouetted against the light behind him and he came out.

  How much time had passed? Half an hour at least. Sara darted back into her bedroom, thankful she had not switched on there, as Rede would conclude she was already asleep and would go straight to his room. Very quietly she unzipped her long dress, but it must have made a whisper on the floor as she stepped out of it, for without knowing whether he had come upstairs or not, she could almost feel him pause at the door before he opened it and came in.

  'Why in the dark?' He flicked a switch, revealing her standing in her slip, her dress over her arm. 'Not undressed yet? I thought I'd find you in bed.'

  She mustn't admit the moonlight had tempted her on to the balcony, or he would guess she had spied on him. 'Yes, well, I didn't come up straight away,' she lied. 'And when I did, the moonlight was bright enough to undress by, and it seemed a pity to shut it out.'

  'So it does.' His finger went to the switch again, returning the room to moonlight and shadow. Dear God, she almost prayed, let him want to tell me why he was so long with Mail But as he crossed the floor to her it was dear he had no such intent in mind. In silence he unzipped the strapless bodice

  of her slip, kicked it aside and pressed her back towards the bed. She sank down upon it, and he leaned over her, his touch upon arms and breast and slender torso a tinder, as ever, for her senses.

  He murmured thickly, 'Moonlight is wasted on anything as prosaic as undressing to no purpose,' and brought his lips to part hers in searching, arrogant demand of her response.

  She thought of him, `To come to me, straight from Mai ! ' And of herself, 'Hateful, hateful—to want him as I do!' She felt her body had betrayed her to him, but as always in his arms there was heightening sensual delight for her and her gift to him of surrender, and afterwards a peace that she could only hope he knew too.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IN her half-sleep that night Sara was aware of a physical unease as well as the turmoil of her thoughts, and when she woke fully in the morning her arms, shoulders, neck and face were afire with irritation. She reached for her hand-mirror and gasped at what it showed. She was covered with angry blotches which looked like mosquito bites, and suddenly she recalled how one, or perhaps more than one had zoomed in the darkness round her as she had been out on the balcony. Yet in her

  agonised concentration of watching for Rede, she hadn't even noticed she had been stung.

  She went to the bathroom cabinet for calomine, found the bottle empty and met Malee bringing in her morning tea as she came back.

  Malee almost dropped her tray in her shocked dismay. 'Mem! Mem! Your face! You have fever! Get back into bed, mem, please. I tell Tuan Forrest and he will come,' she exclaimed.

  'No, Malee, don't ' The shame of having

  Rede see her like this! But Malee was already knocking at his inner door, making staccato explanations, and the next minute Rede, dragging the sash of his robe about him, was at her bedside. Malee discreetly departed.

  Rede touched Sara's cheek with gentle fingers. 'How did this happen? You can't have slept under your net,' he accused.

  'I did. I must have been stung last night. I heard some mosquitoes about,' she confessed.

  'Here in the room?'

  'No. On the balcony.'

  'But I thought you'd only just come upstairs when I found you undressing?'

  Caught out in her lie! 'Yes, well, I did go out on the balcony before I began to undress.'

  'And stayed there long enough to collect this lot even after hearing the things on the prowl?'

  'I suppose so.' She paused. Then, since she had been found out, she put the ball into his court. 'I—saw you leave the cottage,' she said.

  'Yes, I was there longer than I meant to be. Mai had had some bad news and wanted help and advice.'

  If he was lying, he was doing it well. 'Bad news? What about? She seemed happy enough at dinner,' said Sara.

  'About her foster-mother. When she got in from school she found your note on her mat, but missed a mailed letter from her foster-father. She found it when she went in last night. As you know, when the Bartrams went back to England, he took a job on a rubber estate where he and Suki Ying, his wife, have a bungalow on the plantation. But now she's gone down with fever, and I'm arranging to take Mai back to see her today. It's more than half a day's journey, so I'll stay overnight and we'll come back tomorrow.'

  'Where will you stay?'

  'There's a hotel of sorts in Kota Tingii.'

  'And Mai?'

  'She'll want to stay at the bungalow. Meanwhile, you're to stay in bed, and before I leave I'll call the doctor to you.'

  'For a few insect bites? I've done my anti-malarial dope course,' Sara protested.

  'Maybe. But Doc will give you an antibiotic jab in case you contacted a rogue mosquito that was immune to the dope, and he'll keep an eye on you for the next few days.' Rede pointed to the tray which Malee had left on the bedside table. 'Ring for some more tea if that's cold. I'll look in on you

  again before I go,' he said, and went back to his own room.

  So he had had good reason for staying with Mai last night, Sara thought as she lay back in bed. While she had suspected him she had dreaded having to meet Mai on normal terms, but he had been so casual and open that she was glad she had forbidden herself the temptation of asking either him or Mai some shrewish questions. But how long would it take her to forget Isabel Iden's poison— if she ever did, while Rede gave her no positive sign of his needing her for more than her body and her use to him as a duenna for Mai?

  Later Buppa came to ask what she would like for a light lunch and to cluck her commiseration at Sara's bloated appearance. A sheaf of delicate lotus blossom arrived with Rede's dry message on its accompanying card—`That will teach you to try conclusions with the local culicidae after dark'— typical of his surface attentiveness, that he should have found time to have the florist send it. And the doctor called, gave an injection, prescribed a lotion to be used at night, told Sara she could get up for an evening meal in a robe if she liked, and promised to call again the next day.

  The effect of the injection was to make her sleepy and she drowsed through most of the afternoon and early evening until, when dusk had fallen, she pulled on a negligee and stepped into mules and went downstairs.

  She dined from a tray and drowsed again in front

  of the television set for she didn't know how long. It was still working without an audience when she came to with a start at Malee's gentle, 'Memplease?'

  She knuckled sleep from her eyes. 'Yes, Malee? What time is it?'

  'Nearly nine o'clock, mem. But, mem—?' 'Yes?'

  'In the hall there is someone to see you. He comes, he says, with a message from Tuan Forrest. I tell him you are not well, but he says he should see you. It is important that he does.'

  Sara frowned. 'I can't see him—I'm not dressed. Who is he? Did you ask his name?'

  'Yes, I remember it. He calls one time on the telephone. Tuan Iden,' nodded Malee.

  Cliff? With a message for her from Rede l From Rede, who had been on the mainland since morning; and Cliff, the least likely person for him to employ on such an errand? Sara's reason rejected the idea outright, and she told Malee too sharply, 'I can't see Mr Iden. If he has a message, ask him to write it down, or tell you what it is, will you, please?'

  Malee stood her ground. 'It is very important, he says, that he give it to yourself, mem—' she had beg
un when Cliff appeared at the door of the room and, since she couldn't brawl with him in front of Malee, Sara had no choice but to acknowledge him. She nodded to him; Malee effaced herself and Cliff came across the room.

  Sara said, 'I don't think you can have a message for me from Rede. You haven't, have you?'

  Cliff shook his head. It was the only reason for your seeing me which I hoped you would believe. I had to use it.'

  'Why?'

  'Because you wouldn't see me the last time I rang you and asked you. I'm sorry, Sara. Rede said what had happened to you when he came into the office before he left for the mainland. He's having to stay overnight, isn't he? So I saw this as my only chance to get to see you alone. That was why I lied to your maid,' Cliff said wretchedly.

  Sara stood up, drew her robe about her and indicated her face. 'You can see the state I'm in. I'm due to go back to bed. But to see me alone, to say what?' she asked.

  'Much the same as before, only more so.'

  'You mean you haven't managed to convince Isabel that you aren't having an affair with me?'

  'I think she wouldn't mind getting evidence that I am, but without it there's nothing she can do. That's why she mustn't know either that I've come to you tonight. But no, it's the other thing now— her conviction that it's your power behind Rede's throne that's keeping me down at Temasik. And "down" is the operative word. I'm not in his confidence; I never deputise for him. Today, for instance, he passed me over for another chap to take on his appointments. None of which I can justify to Isabel without her blaming you.'

  Sara offered scant sympathy. 'Too bad,' she said. `But the situation is still the same. If you are being "kept down" at Temasik, you must tell Isabel it's through no influence of mine.'

  'And there's nothing you could do the other way, perhaps? For instance, put in a casual word as to when I'm going to get a bit of executive status, or something like that?' Cliff pleaded.