‘Golly. Life must have been very difficult for them.’
Arthur shrugged. ‘You could say that.’
They lapsed into silence. After a few minutes he leaned forward. ‘Evie, I may be speaking out of turn but you’re so different from Felicity and I’m sure you will adapt well to life here. You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who wants to spend her time playing bridge, gossiping and hanging round the tennis club. But you have to be aware that living on a rubber estate can be very lonely.’
‘I’m used to being on my own,’ she said brightly. ‘As long as I have books to read I can keep myself occupied. And there’ll be a house to run, Jasmine to care for and maybe, God willing, in time some children of my own.’
He looked away, then nodded. ’Doug is very much a free spirit. You’ll need to be patient. He’s not the easiest of men to get along with. And…’
‘And what?’
‘Nothing. I’m sure it will all be fine.’
Evie glanced at her wristwatch. It was already almost six. She jumped up. ‘Aunty Mimi is preparing dinner for seven o’clock. Any chance of you rousing Douglas from the bar? I’m not allowed in there.’
Arthur’s lips stretched into a tight line. ‘I’ll do my best. Wait here. No need for you to face the rabble again tonight.’ He went into the building.
Evie could still hear the buzz of conversation and laughter, but now there were also the strains of jazz music coming from a gramophone somewhere inside. Light spilled out from the tall open windows onto the darkening lawns.
Arthur emerged after a few minutes. ‘I’m sorry, Evie. Doug says he’s going to be a while. He wants you to take the car back with Benny and he’ll see you at the house later.’ His face was solemn and he looked as mortified as she felt.
It was like a punch in the stomach. Evie slumped back onto the wooden bench and looked up at Arthur. ‘Is he really going to leave me alone while he stands at a bar and drinks himself insensible? Does he expect me to go home and have dinner alone yet again? On my wedding day.’ She could barely get the words out, she was so choked with emotion.
‘I’m so sorry. It’s unforgivable, but it’s how Doug is. You need to give him time.’
‘Time for what? I’ve barely shared more than a few sentences with him. He drank his way through half a bottle of scotch on the first night, before walking out on me to come here. Since then he’s failed to show up for dinner at all. What have I done? Why did I ever agree to go through with this?’
Arthur said nothing but she could see his fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.
‘I thought at least today of all days he’d deign to break bread with me. After we stood there side-by-side and made those vows.’ At last she could hold back no longer and began to cry. Tears of anger, frustration, loneliness and fear.
‘I don’t know what to say, Evie. He’s behaving like an absolute cad. I can only think that he’s afraid.’
‘Afraid?’ She could hear the pitch of her voice rising. ‘Afraid of what?’
‘You, I expect. Strange as that may seem. He’s been through a lot with Felicity dying. Maybe he’s anxious about spending time alone with you. He’s not a sociable man. He’s used to his own company.’
Evie wiped her eyes but more tears were coming. Her lace-edged handkerchief was already sodden.
‘Come on. Let’s get you in the car. Benny’s parked at the front.’ He handed her his own handkerchief. ‘Dry your eyes. I’m going to head back to the bar when you’ve gone. I’m going to try and talk some sense into the man. Don’t worry, Evie. I’m sure things will soon settle down. Just give it time.’
5
Jasmine had already eaten and gone to bed when Evie sat down to her solitary dinner. She shuffled the food around her plate unable to eat. Afterwards, too angry even to read a book, she retired early to bed in the guest room as usual.
Under the flimsy sheet and shrouded by the mosquito nets, she struggled to sleep. She longed for oblivion – a few hours where she could escape into dreams, hopefully ones unpopulated by Douglas Barrington. She didn’t want to think about him, about this godforsaken country or the loathsome people at the club. The dreams she craved were of the English countryside, of leafy lanes dappled with sunshine, cows and sheep grazing in green fields, the sound of woodpeckers, the pealing of bells for the Sunday service. Not this infernal heat and not the horrible events of this, her wedding day.
But sleep evaded her. Evie lay awake, rolling from one side to the other, sheets damp with her perspiration, mind racing. Her heart hammered in her chest and her nerves were so raw that her skin felt tight and her pulse throbbed at her temples. All the time she saw Douglas Barrington’s face. Her husband’s face. The face of the man who had stood beside her repeating the marriage vows, before abandoning her in search of comfort from a bottle, rather than from her.
She punched the pillow. Why, why, why had she ever agreed to go through with this horrible loveless marriage? It couldn’t even be described as a marriage of convenience when it clearly was anything but convenient to the groom.
