Douglas drew her downwards, and she found herself lying on the bare concrete floor as they moved in unprecedented harmony. She entwined her fingers with his. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his back, feeling the rough linen of his shorts – he was still fully clothed while she was completely naked. All Evie knew was that she didn’t want him to stop. She drew him closer, deeper, wanting it to go on for ever, to be doing what they were doing, to feel the sensation she was feeling, the ripples of pleasure running through her body. Looking up she sought his eyes.
Douglas drew back his head and looked down at her. ‘Give me a son, Evie. I want a son.’ With a cry he was done and rolled off her onto the floor. They lay side-by-side panting while Evie tried to gather her thoughts.
It was not what she’d hoped to hear. What happened next was not what she’d hoped would happen either. Douglas got up, adjusted the front of his shorts, ran his hand through his hair and moved to the doorway. ‘You’d better get dressed. I’ll wait in the car.’
Stunned, Evie lay on the concrete floor for several moments, staring at the closed door of the hut. She gathered up her clothes and put them on, trying to suppress the tears that were already rising. Whether they were tears of sorrow or anger she was unsure – probably a mixture of both. She bit her lip. Don’t let him see you cry, Evie. Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s hurt you. She brushed the cobwebs off her dress and opened the door.
He started the engine as soon as she emerged from the hut. She climbed in beside him, trying to read his face, but he was staring straight ahead. Speaking in his usual clipped tone, he said, ‘I apologise. That was wrong of me.’
Her heart lightened a little, waiting for him to explain why he’d left her lying on the floor in disarray.
‘I don’t know what came over me. I think it was Susan Hyde-Underwood so evidently pregnant. Seeing Reggie preening with pride that’s he’s soon to be a father. Hearing him say they’re both certain it’s going to be a boy. I kept thinking that could be you. My son inside you. I just had to act. It was a kind of madness. I’m sorry.’
‘I liked it.’ Her voice was barely a whisper. ‘I liked what you did. I liked the way it was so sudden and unplanned.’ She gave a little sob, her efforts at control failing her. ‘For a moment I thought you might actually care for me.’ She swallowed, fighting back the tears and realised she was shaking. ‘But I was wrong about that, wasn’t I? You weren’t excited by me. You were excited by the thought of having a son. How do you imagine that makes me feel?’ As she said the words, she wanted to retract them, wishing she hadn’t told him how much he’d hurt her.
Beside her, Douglas continued to keep his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his jaw set in a hard line, his mouth tightly closed. He drove fast. Too fast, she thought, as they swung round the sharp bends, descending the mountain. Evie clung onto the door handle, trying to control her shaking, and struggling to hold back the incipient tears.
‘I told you, this is a business relationship. I was very clear to you, Evie, my intentions towards you have never been romantic. I’ve apologised. It was the heat of the moment. It shouldn’t have happened. It was inappropriate. Undignified. And it won’t happen again. Not like that.’
He took one hand off the wheel and scrabbled in the glove compartment, producing a pack of cigarettes. Evie drew away when his hand accidentally brushed against her knees as he reached to close the catch before expertly lighting his cigarette. The rest of the journey passed in complete silence.
When they reached George Town he pulled up outside the house. ‘I’ll pick up Jasmine from school and drop her back here on my way to the ferry. Goodbye.’
Without waiting for an answer, he drove away, leaving her standing alone on the pavement.
11
After Douglas had left, Evie stumbled through the rest of the day in a daze. Eating supper, seeing Jasmine to bed that night, sitting by her bedside listening to her reading, kissing the child goodnight – she did all this as if in a trance, her body acting automatically, while her brain was elsewhere. When Jasmine was asleep, Evie went downstairs. The house was silent and there was no sign of Benny. She went into the garden from where she could see Aunty Mimi silhouetted at the kitchen window washing the supper dishes.
The garden was dark, with a sea breeze stirring the leaves, helping cool her down and keeping the mosquitoes at bay. Evie breathed in the sweet heady scent of frangipani, and the soft, subtle pine smell of the casuarina trees. Moths circled in the light spilling from the drawing room onto the lawn.
From further down the street, cockerels were crowing, even though it was only late evening. She’d asked Mary why they did that – often breaking into full crowing in the middle of the night. Mary told her it was because the poor birds were kept in cramped bamboo cages, starved of food, in readiness for cock fighting. Evie shivered at the thought. So much about this place was alien to her, almost savage, far removed from everything and everyone she had ever known.
Utter loneliness swept over her, depressing her spirits, making her want to run upstairs, pack her suitcase and take the next ship back to Britain. She would never fit in. Never feel welcome or comfortable in this godforsaken country.
Evie’s fragile self-confidence had been bolstered by her blossoming friendship with Mary Helston, and today she had enjoyed the company of Susan Hyde-Underwood. But
