This, from
Cécile
, was bewildering. Later, Sally was to reflect that the woman had merely spoken her thoughts and convictions, that she now saw no danger in Sally Yorke and could treat her as she treated everyone else, with pleasant hauteur. But just then there was a diversion.
Dane had followed them into the hotel by way of the main entrance, and as they waited for one of the lifts, both women saw him speak to Pierre de Chalain, near the reception desk. There came a flurry of dark red topped with black curls, Lucette’s excited exclamation.
“Dane! I didn’t know you were back. Did you remember it was my birthday—is that why you came?”
“Could be,” Dane said lazily, as he looked at her bright cheeks and sparkling eyes. “How does it feel to be twenty
-
two?”
“Marvellous!” Lucette closed her eyes and swayed, opened them very wide at him. “Your coming back tonight has really
made
my birthday, do you know that? Oh, and Dane
...
that stupendous cake! It’s like the Taj Mahal.”
He laughed. “I hope it’s more yielding. Have you cut it yet?”
“No, we’ll cut it together, as you do a wedding cake.” Then Lucette did something typical. She rested her hands on his shoulders, raised herself on to her toes and kissed him warmly on the lips. “There! That means thank you.” The lift slid open and
Cécile
, her head high and rigid, walked into it. Sally lingered long enough to catch Dane’s glance across the vestibule and to become aware of the hint of malice in the smile he gave her. She heard him say teasingly, “You could get away with anything, Lucette, and you certainly know the right length for a first kiss. Come on, I’ve just time for one dance before I have to go out. I’m sure you’re a magnificent dancer.”
The lift door closed softly, the small compartment ascended without sound and glided to a halt.
Cécile
and Sally came out on to the thickly-carpeted hallway, turned along the corridor.
Cécile
’s suite was the most remote from the lift, so they reached Suite Seven together.
Cécile
slowed, and asked, “How long does your friend stay at the Mirador?”
“Indefinitely, I think.”
“Dane told me about her. She has no
fiancé
in Tangier?
”
“
No.”
“You invited her here. You must get rid of her.”
“I have no influence over Lucette—none whatever.
”
“
Then I will get rid of her myself,” said
Cécile
with icy calm, and she walked on to the end of the corridor.
In her sitting room, Sally sank down into a chair and leant her head against its back. The smell of the numerous bouquets was so overpowering that it made her aware of her own worn nerves. For some time her mind was almost blank. But presently her thoughts went back over the last hour or so. Had Dane returned because of Lucette? According to Tony, he had been expected back tomorrow, and no doubt
Cécile
would have been willing to extend their break from routine for another day. But Dane had preferred to return a day earlier, even though the hour of their arrival must be very late.
Yet somehow Sally could not see Dane altering his plans for the volatile young woman he had known only a day or two. He had spoken as if Lucette amused him
...
but he had also defended her attitude to Mike’s crippled state; he had condoned in Lucette an antipathy towards illness which Sally regarded as appallingly unfeminine.
She couldn’t forget the look he had slanted her own way as she was entering the lift. “Lucette knows how to please a man,” it had said; “This is how a woman should be—pliant and
c
aptivating, not independent and defiant.” Well, let him get what he could out of Lucette. Sally didn’t care; she musn’t. There were too many other things that puzzled and hurt her. Dane’s cold implacability towards Tony, his determination that she should do what he paid her to do in the way of persuading Mike to enter an orthopaedic hospital—both these made the rest seem comparatively unimportant.
Her reflections were so entangled with her emotions that her mind became dulled—the painful edge worn off. She began to realize that she was making too much of personal relationships here in Shiran; she had no right to any, no desire for them. That barrier she had thrown up was the safest protection. It wasn’t hard to hide one’s feelings, to pack them away below the conscious level and use an impersonal coldness as a defence. There had been no need for the passionate eruption which had threatened her sanity out there on the terrace. Dane’s accusation had surprised her, but in future she would be proof against surprise. She had to be, to get through.
Yet the shock of watching his acceptance of Lucette’s kiss returned to her with the impact of a sledge hammer. As it receded it left her feeling desperate, and lonely as she had never been in her life b
e
fore; she couldn’t understand her own reaction. Surely this wasn’t love or need
—
this gnawing, harrowing sensation which had possession of her?
Sally began to undress. She moved mechanically, took an unconscionable time to hang away her dress and dispose of a few things, and went into the bathroom. The bath helped; it made her drowsy, and she returned to the bedroom fairly certain that she would sleep.
She snapped on the double lamp between the beds and switched off the main light, padded over to the french window and fastened one of the doors wide open, so that the night air off the sea might find its torturous way round the hotel and into the room. She looked out and saw that a moon she hadn’t noticed before was turning the world pale. Palm trees threw long black shadows over the pool, the gravelled walks across the grass were white with moonlight, and the dark green leaves of flowering trees were varnished with it. There was spice in the air, the smell of exuberant life.
Sally sighed; it was too beautiful to be real. She had been right not to trust the magic of Shiran, but she did wish she
could
have trusted it. She was back in the room and choosing a book from the bedside bookcase when the sitting room door slammed and Lucette came breezing in. A purse was flung on to a chair, high-heeled slippers were kicked off and Lucette skipped into the bedroom like a child ready for a day’s fun. She laughed for the sheer joy of it.
“What a glorious day! And you deserted me, Sally. That wasn’t nice.”
“It got so late, and I’m a working girl. Besides, you did tell everyone they could fade when they’d had enough.
”
“
So yo
u
were bored! That’s wicked. I could start all over again, but the crowd have gone to bed.” Lucette pushed fingers through her hair, took a delight in making it stand out from her head. “Dane’s come back—specially for my birthday. Did you know?”
“Yes, I saw him.” Sally caught the glitter of diamonds at the creamy neck and said quickly, “Lucette, that jewellery of yours
...
you must have known it was genuine when you lent me the bracelet this evening.”
“Genuine?” Lucette stopped moving, and a veil slipped down over her expressive eyes. “Don’t be silly. Would I throw real jewellery about as if it were costume stuff?
”
“
You might, seeing that you have so much.”
“Who told you it’s real?”
“Monsieur de Chalain. He said that you must be aware of it, too.”
“What did you do with the bracelet?”
“As soon as he told me, I was afraid I’d lose it, so I asked him to lock it up in his safe. And you’ll have to put the rest with it. I won’t have it left here in the bedroom. It’s unnerving.” Lucette didn’t answer at once, and Sally added slowly, “You’ve changed, Lucette. Where did you get all this stuff?”
Lucette’s head lifted and she said petulantly, “I’ve told you—from my grandmother.”
“How long ago?”
“About five months.”
“Then if you’d been so tired of your parents’ control, you could have left them weeks ago.”
Lucette turned impulsively, made her eyes melting and dark as she smiled with infinite ruefulness at Sally. “You don’t understand, petsie, and I can’t go into a long
-
winded explanation at this hour. I admit the jewels are real, and I promise to have them put in the hotel safe tomorrow morning. Will that do?”
Sally turned to her bed. “If you won’t tell me more, it will have to do, won’t it? I’m sleepy.”
“I’m not!” Lucette hugged herself and shifted slightly, so that from her position at the foot of Sally’s bed she could see the moon-washed sky and feel the air about her.
“You know, darling, I think I’m happier than at any time in my life. I’m in love!”
Sally’s fingers curled tightly over the sheet-edge, but she managed to ask lightly, “Are you? With Dane?”
“Who else?” Lucette’s voice was vibrant with an exciting emotion. “Just before he went away I felt that magnetism of his and told myself it was only natural that, as I’d been shut up with my parents so long, I’d be terribly aware of the first man who paid me compliments. While Dane was gone, I played with the others, just to find out whether what I felt for Dane was real or a sudden infatuation. I only had to see him again tonight to be sure that it certainly wasn’t temporary. I adore the man!”
Sally slid nervelessly into her bed and lay back. Her lips felt icy and a prickly sensation ran along her spine. “
Cécile
Vaugard is fond of him, too.”
Lucette wrinkled her nose, contemptuously. “She’s
a
beauty, I grant you, but she’s waited a little too long. I only hope
...”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing.” She scintillated suddenly. “I’m not going to think back or into the future. Dane finds me attractive and amusing, and I
...
well, I find him devastating. I decided on my way upstairs that I’m going to stay in Shiran till he tells me he loves me. And do you know something, Sally? I’m going to ward off the moment, just to string out the happiness!”
Sally could find no reply to this, and after a moment or two of ecstatic inward contemplation, Lucette trailed off to the bathroom. All desire for sleep had left Sally. She lay with her eyes closed and her mind wide awake, her heart beating unevenly into the bed.
Was Lucette’s love for Dane real and lasting? Was Dane finding himself drawn towards the mercurial young woman who could offer him both youth and maturity, as well as a brand of beauty and an effervescent kind of love? Sally didn’t know, but she remembered, bleakly, that she herself had brought Lucette to Shiran.
Minutes later, she also remembered
Cécile
Vaugard’s parting words: “Then I will get rid of her myself.” And she felt she would have to get up and walk about, or the turmoil inside her would rip her apart. But Lucette came back into the bedroom, humming a little French tune, and slowly Sally recovered and put her emotions back where they belonged. The only way to handle this thing was to look at it coldly, dispassionately and analytically. And she wouldn’t be in any condition to do that before the morning.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MIKE, next morning, was morose and quiet. He followed Sally’s directions, held on to the bar they had screwed into the veranda wall and obediently swung his leg and bent from the waist, used the steel expander and did a modified form of Swedish drill to keep his shoulder muscles fit. When the session was over, he put the conventional query.
“Like an iced drink?”
Sally shook her head. “Not this morning, Mike. I’ll come along as usual this afternoon.”
He relaxed in his chair. “Good. I’ll be ready.”
“Shall I find you a book?”
He hesitated. “No, but you might get me some writing paper and a couple of envelopes from the desk. I want to send off a couple of letters.”
“Shall I wait and post them for you?”
“No, that’s all right,” he said quickly. “Yussef will take them.”
She went into the lounge for paper and envelopes, stopped at a side table to pick up her purse and noticed a glove which had been folded small and slipped between the flower vase and a cigarette box. It was an ice-blue glove
...
Cécile
’s color.
She went out and fixed Mike up with a table and everything else he needed, said goodbye and got into the car. But as she left the villa she was thinking about
Cécile
, and her connection with Mike. He wasn’t particularly fond of women, Sally was sure, and
Cécile
’s interest in him had always seemed to be prompted by a wish to please Dane. It was possible, of course, that they did have a little in common, but Sally was certain that neither roused emotion in the other.
Had
Cécile
been to the villa this morning, or had she forgotten the glove on an earlier occasion? Sally thought it had been left this morning and half hidden by Mike; otherwise she would have noticed it before. Yet it was still early, in fact exceptionally early for
Cécile
to be abroad. Oh well, whatever the reason for
Cécile
’s visit to Mike, it didn’t concern Sally Yorke. So after a while Sally forgot it.
She did some shopping, asked the driver to take her out beyond the ramparts of the town, where the camel
-
trains were queueing to file under one of the arches which led down into the medina. From an eminence she could see the medina square, and for several minutes she sat watching the robed throngs milling about stalls which were shaded by grubby canvas hung over poles. There was a haze of smoke above the awnings, and dense clouds of it here and there, where the cooking of sweetmeats was in progress. Beyond the square stood a group of tall scraggy palms, the only greenness in the expanse of crowded white buildings. Inevitably, a minaret dominated the scene, a long slender tower showing the sky through the apertures just below the dome, where the muezzin appeared five times a day.
The dazzling whiteness of buildings and roads were bearable for only a short time. Sally told the driver to take her back to the Mirador. And there she found Lucette lounging beside the pool, amid a bevy of admirers who seemed to be fascinated by her careless disregard of them. Sally had hoped for a word with Lucette, but it was becoming more and more difficult to see her alone; and when they
were
alone Lucette hedged and laughed, told Sally she was missing so much fun through caring about non
-
essentials.
At lunch-time Lucette was missing altogether, and upon remarking to the head waiter that the dining room seemed almost empty, Sally learned that a convoy of hired cars had taken a large number of residents to visit the Saadian Tombs and other sights at Marrakesh; they would return late this evening.
Sally ate crayfish salad and a small fruit mould topped with cream and nuts, took coffee in the nearly deserted lounge and went out to the terrace to wait till the car should come round for her, at three o’clock. She put on sun-glasses and looked over the courtyard, wishing, a little forlornly, that she could have been on holiday just for today. Marrakesh was set in desert sands and against a background of jagged mountains. It was full of Spanish
-
Moslem art and architecture, soaked with history, both violent and cultural. The one city in Morocco, so it was said, that no one should miss. She, Sally, was missing all of Morocco except Shiran.
A car backed from its parking place and slid round the courtyard to the foot of the steps. It was the big silver and blue thing, and Dane got from behind the wheel and came up into the terrace. He looked long and lithe in beige slacks and a matching silk shirt.
Sally tightened, was glad to be wearing dark glasses. She acknowledged his greeting, felt him sink down into the chair at her side.
“It’s hot at midday,” he said. “You should rest upstairs after lunch.”
“It’s bearable here. Our suite is so full of flowers that the scent is overpowering.”
“Well, have them thrown out. Are you bored?”
“No.”
“Still cross with me?”
“I wasn’t cross—I was furious.”
“That’s not very wise. I suppose you’ll be more furious when I tell you that Tony’s gone. He left while you were with Mike this morning—asked me to say goodbye to you.
”
“
I suppose you wouldn’t let him wait to see me?” she asked coolly.
He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure how long you’d stay with Mike. You might even have lunched there.”
“He could have driven that way and said goodbye to both of us.”
“Not very easily. I took him to the plantation myself.” She was silent.
Dane leaned forward and looked along the terrace. “The guests have run out on us in numbers today. It’s quite peaceful here. Or are you less peaceful now that I’ve happened along?”
“How did you guess?”
His smile was sharp. “I said I’d have a talk with you today, but I’ve decided against it. You need to simmer down a little.” A pause. “What were you thinking about while you were alone?”
“About Morocco.”
“Really? That’s a concession, from you. Not beginning to ache for a spot of tourism, are you?”
“I wouldn’t have minded going along with the crowd to Marrakesh today,” she admitted offhandedly.
“I’ll take you myself, tomorrow.”
“No!” She qualified the swift negative: “I don’t want to miss a day with Mike, now that we’ve begun. Perhaps before I leave Morocco I’ll make a quick tour of the country.”
He sat back. “You do have a time with yourself, don’t you? With Tony gone, I knew you’d be touchy today, but I thought you’d mask it a bit. Normally you’re pretty good at the stiff upper lip business, but the fact that you won’t see him for a month has got you rattled.” He sounded crisp and cynical as he added, “You’ll get over a kiss or two, little one. I shouldn’t think Tony’s love
-
making is particularly shattering.”
Sally did not rise to the bait. She merely said, with a shrug, “I must call for the car and get my swimsuit. Will you excuse me?”
“While you get bathing gear—yes. As a matter of fact, as Tony’s missing, I’ll go with you and Mike today. I’ll wait right here for you.”
She paused and looked at him, saw a tight mocking smile on his lips and at watchfulness in the sea-green eyes. Then she turned away and went into the hotel, and up to her suite. Without thinking, she collected a rose-pink swimsuit and a rubber cap, rolled both inside one of the soft bath towels, and picked up the gay straw bag which held cosmetics and other necessities. Then, as she was leaving the bedroom, her glance rested on the white icing ornament which had decorated the top of Lucette’s birthday cake, and something inside Sally hardened and went' cold.
She went back into the bedroom and took off her frock, slipped on white linen shorts and a tangerine cotton blouse bought at the hotel emporium. She changed from ordinary white sandals into many-colored straw flatties, gathered up her goods and, without a glance at herself, went out and down the great staircase. As she reached the terrace she put on the sun glasses; they were the best disguise she knew.
Dane stood up, his brow lined. His glance went all over her in one swift summing up, he looked for a second time at the graceful lines of her long brown legs and thoughtfully scratched his chin.
“So this is what you’ve been up to while I was away,” he commented. “Maybe I returned only just in time.” Sally did not tell him that this was her first effort at wearing hotel-guest attire. She walked at his side to the car, got in
t
o it, and waited for him to take his place and set the car moving. She looked at the trees along the esplanade, was aware of heat gushing into the car with the breeze and of the silent bombardment of Dane watchfulness. No other man, surely, could contrive to watch his companion closely and drive fast' at the same time?
When they reached Mike’s house neither had spoken. Mike was in the lounge, and somehow Sally managed to keep a couple of paces ahead of Dane, so that Mike’s surprise, if any, should be blunted before he spoke.
His mood, fortunately, had improved since this morning. He was almost expansive.
“Glad to see you, Dane,” he said. “Like some refreshment before we set out?”
“Let’s wait till we get there,” Dane answered. “I’ve some vacuum jugs filled with iced drinks in the back of the car. How are you feeling, Mike?”
“Not too bad at all. It’s all due to Sally, of course.
”
“
You’ve done most of the work yourself,” Sally said. “Pick up your sticks and I’ll take your towel.” As Dane moved forward to give Mike some help, she exclaimed quickly, “No, please! Mike does this alone.”
Mike shot Dane a glance that Sally could not interpret; she wondered momentarily whether Dane understood it himself. Then Mike was on his feet, stumping with his sound foot over the tiles and grunting with the exertion of getting himself down to the path. His teeth were clamped tight, but' his lips bared them in an angry smile. However, when he was seated in the back of the car with the left leg along the seat and a cushion in the
small of his back, he looked more normal.
“Go ahead, driver,” he said.
Dane let in the clutch and they moved out on to the road which had become so familiar to Sally. She turned and talked over the back of the seat to Mike.
“Tony’s gone—this morning. From now on he’s a date planter.”
“Good for Tony.” Mike’s tones were restrained. “What about the house—is it furnished?”
Dane answered. “Only two rooms of it. The whole place is being reconditioned. It’ll be ready for proper furniture in about two months.”
“Meanwhile old Tony has to camp out in a shambles!
”
“
It won’t hurt him to rough it slightly. The important thing is to get him busy on the plantation itself.”
“It would be, to you. It sounds the hell of a way to live.”
“It isn’t,” said Dane calmly, without turning his head. “I’ve lived in worse conditions and for longer than two months.”
“You’re not Tony. You’re a super-type.”
Sally cast a warning glance at Mike, met eyes which smiled but were just faintly bright with spite. There had always been a slight antagonism in Mike against his cousin, but now it had changed into something more positive. Sally couldn’t understand it. Through Dane, Mike was feeling better and moving about under his own steam; he had no reason for resentment. Yet in addition to the existent hostility, suddenly the resentment was there; it was almost tangible.
Dane remained unmoved. “I don’t think Tony is badly in need of sympathy. He’s got what he wants, and he only has to work to be sure of security in the future. He’s French enough to value that.”
Sally wished she hadn’t mentioned Tony. She quickly changed the topic. “It was somewhere near here that we saw a number of snakes one day. Mike called them desert serpents; they were wriggling about the road.”
“They’re poisonous,” Dane said. “They’re one reason why you should never get out of the car and explore the chasms.” He glanced her way. “Do you still like the wilds better than Shiran?”
“They belong together, the glittering city and the arid scrub; they’re a foil for each other.”
Mike asked curiously, “Was there a time when you didn’t like Shiran, Sally?”
“Yes—at the beginning it just didn’t move me at all.
”
“
Shiran—or only the Hotel Mirador?”
Again Sally flickered a warning at Mike, who seemed to be lying back in his corner as though secure in his infirmity. It was a grubby trick, she thought, and some of the hardness she felt towards Dane fell away.
Dane said tolerantly, “Keep it up, Mike; it may not be good spirit you’re showing, but at least it’s spirit. Will you light a cigarette for me?”
Little more was said before they had taken the rough thorn-confined lane down to the beach and the lagoon. With assistance, Mike levered himself out of the car and went to his usual thick patch of trees to discard his clothing. Sally left the men and climbed the rocks to the cave she used, but when she was in her swimsuit she lingered up there, looking over the boulders which stretched out from this headland and curved round to form the lagoon.
It was a sweet scene, one which might be encountered anywhere in tropically warm waters. Heat hazed the horizon and misted the distant palms at the other end of the sweep of beach. The sea shimmered, a light swell sent waves spraying over the rocks like tattered lace curtains; the water ran away fast, green as glass and veined with foam. Watching it, Sally felt empty and worn; at this moment it seemed impossible that she could go on being agreeable on the surface while she was so tense and anguished underneath. She had had no right to fall in love with Dane, but it had happened, without any of the magic that is supposed to attend such adventures of the heart. Now her position was becoming intolerable, and the days, perhaps weeks ahead, loomed like aeons of insufferable waiting for the time when she could leave Morocco
...
and Dane.
A shout broke into her thoughts. The two men were down there near the edge of the lagoon, and Dane was waving, insisting that she join them. She leapt from rock to rock, descended to the sand and loped towards them
,
pulling on her cap. Mike was being awkward.