Wealth of the Islands (3 page)

“
Some years,
”
he replied cautiously. He plonked some instant coffee into the bottom of two mugs and poured boiling water on the top.
“
Milk?
”
he asked. She nodded and accepted the steaming mug he held
out to her. The coffee was very strong and bitter, but it was good and very refreshing.

“
I needed that!
”
she said with appreciation, and smiled up at him.

“
Where are you from?
”
he asked her.

“
Today?
”

“
Yes, today, if you like.
”

“
I was flown out with the freight for the Islands from New Zealand.
”
She yawned apologetically.
“
It was a very early start!
”
she confessed.

He grinned.
“
You look none the worse for it,
”
he complimented her.

She blushed faintly, aware suddenly of how closely he had been looking at her.
“
Thank you,
”
she said quietly.
“
My name is Hastings, Mrs. Helen Hastings.
”

His face hardened dramatically.
“
Indeed?
”
he said coldly.
“
Then why have you come here, Mrs. Hastings? You should have known that there would be nothing here for you.
”

Helen twisted her fingers together to give herself courage.
“
I thought I could carry on where Michael left off,
”
.she explained awkwardly.

He stood up.
“
Wouldn
’
t it have been wiser to have written first?
”
he suggested with icy politeness.

“
I don
’
t see that it
’
s any of your business!
”
Helen retorted.
“
It
’
s between me and Gregory de Vaux. There
’
s no reason why he shouldn
’
t employ me—I
’
m a much better diver than Michael ever was!
”

“
You
’
d need to be!
”
he snorted.
“
And I can assure you that Gregory de Vaux has never been known to employ a woman!
”

“
There can always be a first time!
”
she shot back at him.

“
But not with you!
”
he snapped.

“
Why not?
”
she insisted.

“
Because,
”
he said, and he sounded as if he enjoyed saying it,
“
I am Gregory de Vaux!
”

There was a moment
’
s silence. Helen looked at
him
with wide eyes. Of course, she thought, that was what he was doing with the boat. But he didn
’
t look like a man entrusted with such a mission. She glanced down at his bare feet and the to
rn
bottom of his trousers. Why, he could even do with a shave! And goodness knew when he had last had his hair cut! And yet she had to admit that the boat was spotless and the equipment well looked after. It was a puzzle to her to know what to make of him.

“
But you don
’
t understand,
”
she said.
“
I have Anita, my sister-in-law, to consider. I
made
her come with me
. I
had to. You don
’
t know what it
’
s like living with Michael
’
s mother.
”

“
I can imagine,
”
he admitted with a fleeting smile.
“
But I don
’
t quite see what it has got to do with me. I can
’
t run my whole business round Michael
’
s relatives, you know.
”

She held her head up high and looked him squarely in the eyes.
“
I
’
m not suggesting that you should!
”
she said
carefully.
“
I
’
m only suggesting that you are short of divers—you were before Michael—before Michael died—and therefore you
need
me, just as much as I need a job!
”

He looked at her with a certain sympathy.
“
But I don
’
t employ women,
”
he told hen
“
T
h
e men get upset and the whole expedition falls apart. I
’
ve had it happen to me before!
”

Helen bit her lip.
“
I don
’
t think you understand,
”
she said desperately.
“
I have to dive for you! And as for my being a woman, Michael isn
’
t so long dead that
I
shall
be looking for any romantic adventures. I can
assure you of that!
”

He laughed at that! With his head thrown back and
with his hands on his hips, he looked more like a pirate than ever.

“
You underrate yourself
!”
he told her frankly.

Helen drank her coffee uncomfortably.
“
Well, you needn
’
t be so beastly about it!
”
she commented.

He stopped laughing and leaned his brown, surprisingly well-kept hands on the table in front of him.
“
I
’
m sorry,
”
he said sincerely.
“
I didn
’
t mean to be beastly. I
’
ll tell you what I
’
ll do. I
’
ll give you a trial run some time and you can show me what you can
do. But I
’
m not promising anything! Is that quite clear?
”

It was clear enough, she thought
.
He would allow her to dive just to please her, and then he would tell her that she was not suitable for the work he was doing. Still, it was a beginning. She knew she was a highly competent diver and she had no doubts at all that she would be able to prove her worth to him. She sat back in her seat and smiled.

“
All right,
”
she said.
“
That
’
s fair enough.
”

She could tell that he was taken back by her confidence, but he shrugged the matter off and glanced down at his watch.
“
We
’
ll be at the main island in about half an hour,
”
he told her.
“
Is anyone expecting you?
”

“
They know I
’
m coming some time, but I didn
’
t know that I
’
d be here today. A friend of my father
’
s, a Miss Corrigan, has arranged a room for me and for my sister-in-law when she comes, at the hotel
.
”

Gregory de Vaux stared at her.
“
Miss Corrigan?
”
he exclaimed.
“
Oh no! Don
’
t tell me you know her! The old gorgon has only got to take to you and
s
he
’
ll twist me round her little finger—
”

“
Are you afraid of her, Mr. de Vaux?
”
Helen asked gently.

He glared at her.
“
Certainly not! Only I want to make up my own mind about your worth as a diver!
”

Helen chuckled.
“
And so you shall,
”
she assured him soothingly.

“
You don
’
t know Miss Corrigan!
”
he groaned.

Helen laughed again.
“
I am sure I shall like her very much indeed
,”
she said.

“
I can believe it! Well, since fate is conspiring against me, I
’
m glad it
’
s such a pretty fate!
”
He
disappeared up the compa
ni
onway, his bare feet slapping against the lino-covered stairs. It was strange how much she noticed his going. His presence was rather like lightning, devastating, but noticeably exciting. She would enjoy working for him, she thought. It would
make
a pleasant change from mourning her dead husband in the suffocating atmosphere of her mother-in-
l
aw
’
s house. She and Anita would have time to learn to
l
ive again and that, at the moment, was all she asked of life. Particularly for Anita, her tired, pale, and rather insignificant sister-in-law.

CHAPTER TWO

ANITA had been Helen
’
s main worry after Michael had died. She had not noticed at first what Mrs. Hastings
’
grief was doing to her daughter, for it had been bad enough living in the Hastings house when Michael had been alive, and Helen had moved out as soon as possible after the news had come that he was dead.

At first they had all been surprised how well Michael
’
s mother was taking the news. She had derived a strange pleasure from the fact that the
telegram announcing the death had been delivered to her instead of to Helen. Later, when the confirming letter had come, she had snatched that away too, and it had been days before she had allowed Helen to read it.

“
It
’
s addressed to me
!”
she had said defiantly.
“
I am Mrs. Hastings!
”

“
So, unfortunately, am
I,
”
Helen had answered.

“
So you
’
re regretting it,
”
Mrs. Hastings had accused her with satisfaction.
“
I knew that you never really cared for Michael.
”

Helen wished that she had known it too. But she was too proud to show her sorrow to her in-laws. Any tears that she shed, she shed when she was alone, in the privacy of her own room. And then, when it had become too unbearable to go on living in the same house as Michael
’
s mother, she had left and had found a room for herself in London, fairly
near
school where she was still teaching.

In fact, so busy had she been coping with her own grief that it had been some weeks before she had noticed the change in Anita. She was
ashamed
to admit that she had done little enough to befriend Anita in the past. The girl had seemed little more than a pale shadow of her mother, following after her wherever she went, fetching and carrying for her and generally making herself useful, with no friends of her own, and apparently very little desire to live a life of her own. Helen had been all the more shocked therefore when, out of a sense of duty she had visited her mother-in-law to discuss
the
terms of Michael
’
s will. Anita
’
s face had fallen away into shadowed, tightly drawn skin stretched over bones, and her eyes were little more than two pools of sheer misery.

“
Anita, what
’
s the matter?
”
Helen had greeted her.

“
Ssh!
”
Anita had warned her.
“
Mother is listening.
”

H
elen had stood in the front doorway and had frowned at the pale, fair girl before her.
“
Why don
’
t you ever stand up for yourself?
”
she had asked her
i
rritably.

Anita had sighed.
“
You don
’
t understand,
”
she had whispered.

“
Oh yes, I do!
”
Helen had snapped back.
“
I understand a great deal too well! But if you let it go on you
’
ll spend the rest of your life being nobody but
poor little Anita
! Is that what you want?
”

Anita had winced.
“
Perhaps that
’
s what I am,
”
she had said.

“
Rubbish!
”
Helen had said, much as she would have done to a tiresome child at the school where she taught.
“
Where is the old witch? I
’
ll soon fix her!
”

“
Oh, but you mustn
’
t!
”
Anita had pleaded.
“
She
’
s so unhappy about Michael. She keeps on and on—
”