LADY FOR SHANGHAI

Wairarapa Times-Age, 11 August 1939, Page 10

LADY FOR SHANGHAI

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

KAYE FOX

CHAPTER X

“Are you just being funny, or is there more in this than meets the eye, Doria?"

“If you mean, has Martin got tired of the Lind girl's fooling about —he has,” Doria said coolly. “But how on earth is he going to manage to get stranded with her in Penang?” “Easy enough, since he's dealing with someone as green as Fay Lind. You know that the sailing time was posted up in all the principal hotels? Well, we were having tea at the Palm Tree, and Martin said that he'd better go and have a look at the notice board, to see how much longer we had before we’d have to come on board —he came back and said the ship was sailing at midnight." “And it's really 10.30.” “I believe it is. Anyhow, Martin suggested going for a drive into the 1 jungle, and having dinner later, and I said that I’d got such a splitting headache that I’d really rather come back’ to the ship and lie down." ‘He’ll charter an aeroplane, and they’ll rejoin the ship at Singapore, I sup-

pose," Iris said indifferently, and added

to Christine: “Don’t bother about those hooks any more, stewardess —Mrs Smythe will help me with any that you've left undone.” "Why, I didn’t notice that you wore there, stewardess," Doria said. "You were hidden by Mrs Collin’s full skirt. I mightn't have said quite so much if I had noticed you”. “You’re shock-proof, aren’t you, stewardess?" Iris laughed, looking down at Christine. “I’ll bet you've heard some queer stories in your time, for the passengers on this run are so used to native servants that they forget the ship’s staff understands English.”

“I’ve heard some very queer stories,” Christine agreed quietly. “Well, keep this one under your cap,” Iris said, and glanced quickly at Doria.

But Christine had walked out of the room while Doria was fumbling in her bag for a note. Until the door had closed behind, she managed to look as calm as though this story meant as little to her as any of the others overheard by chance when she was in passengers’ rooms.

There was no one in the alley-way, for dinner had already started. Christine stepped but on to the deck, to avoid Doria and Iris when they came out of number eighteen, for she had no time to lose —she’d got to think of some way of warning Fay, and of getting her on board before the ship sailed..

Christine went and stood by the rail, staring at the lights of the town which lay beyond the dusty wharf. Somewhere in that foreign town, or in the dark jungle which came so close to it, her sister Fay was alone with Martin Royde. “I must go myself," Christine said, under her breath. “If I don't find them until after sailing time —I can stay with her.” It was easier said than done, for she could not go ashore in uniform. Even if she managed to slip past the quartermaster at the head of the gangway, her uniform would be so conspicuous that someone would be sure to notice her and to bring back word to the ship that she was wandering' about Penang alone. Perrin would send one of the stewards to fetch her back.

She ran back to her own cabin, and found Mrs Parr playing patience and Miss Crane knitting—they both looked as though they would sit there until bedtime. And her shore-going clothes were hanging up in the wardrobe, so that she could not possibly take them out without being seen. “Have you finished for the night?" she asked, trying to sound casual. “Yes —though I suppose we can't go to bed until they come on board, in case anyone wants something,” Mrs Parr grumbled, shuffling her cards.

Christine sat down on the settee, wondering how she could possibly get rid of them ror a few moments, just while she took her things out of the wardrobe. It occurred to her to go along to Fay’s room and borrow a hat and a light coat, but Fay's room would be locked, and only the bedroom stewards had keys which unlocked the passengers' rooms.

"Did yon get some scent from the man on the wharf?” she asked Miss Crane, suddenly inspired. “Grant and Edwards went down for me. and they got a simply enormous bottle of lavender water for a dollar—l'll show it to you.”

She took the bottle out of her drawer. knowing perfectly well that if the others had not bought scent already, they would immediately decide that they wanted il.

“That's a good big bottle for a dollar—but 1 expect Grant and Edwards J could have got it for less if they'd pretended to walk away." Mrs Parr said. “Has the man got toilet vinegar?" “I don’t know, but I shouldn't wonder." "And is he still there?” “He's still there. 1 went out on the deck just before I came down here, and I noticed him then." Christine said, for she remembered now that she had noticed the scent merchant on the wharf, though she had been so deep in her own thoughts that she had hardly given the wharf a glance. "Then if you'll come with me, Miss Crane " Mrs Pari- said.

Christine waited until they had been gone for some minutes and then took her shore-going things out of the wardrobe and carried them to flic bathroom. When the others came back triumphantly, with huge bottles of some local edition of toilet vinegar, she was sitting on the settee darning a stocking, but she put it down casually a few minutes later and strolled out.

! Before she changed, she went out on i deck to make sure that there was not a crow:! at the head of the gangway.

■ i The quartermaster on duty was alone I there and he was evidently bored, for Ihe was pacing up and down, pausing 1 for quite a long time to watch the uni loading of the cargo from the hatches lon the afterdeck. Although he would : have recognised her, even out of uniform, if they had met face to face, she knew that if once she could slip down the gangway he would take her in the distance for one of the passengers. I Swiftly, in the bathroom, she put on a tussore coat, and exchanged her cap for the wide-brimmed hat which she had brought for wear ashore in the tropics. Under the coat, her uniform looked like an ordinary white linen frock, for her apron was hidden, and

her thin white stockings and black slippers were not in the least unusual. Her heart was in her mouth when 'she stepped out of the bathroom, for if there was anyone in the alley-way she was done. Fortunately, it was still too early for passengers to be coming on board, and the stewards on watch were probably taking advantage of their leisure by lounging round the bar, talking to George. Christine sped along the alley-way to the companion-way which led out to the head of the gangway. This was perilously close to the Chief Steward’s office, but Perrin usually stayed in his own cabin for at least an hour after dinner, and the office was closed now. The quartermaster was leaning over the rail, with his back to Christine, watching something on the wharf. She stood well back, her head bent so that her face was shadowed by her hat, and waited until he ’ stretched himself with a mighty yawn, and then strolled aft without glancing in her direction. When his footsteps grew faint in the distance, she darted out of the companion-way and down the gangway to the wharf.

She had been so busy planning her escape from the ship that she had no very clear idea what she would do when she got ashore. It was only when the driver of a ricketty ear called out to her that she decided to drive straight to the Palm Tree, the hotel at which Fay had had tea with Martin Royde and Doria Smythe. She jumped into the car just in. time to avoid the Second Steward, who had evidently been ashore with a message.

The Palm Tree was quite small, but she saw as soon as she went up the wide steps into the hall that it was a luxurious little hotel, one of those places which experienced travellers, of a certain type, recommend to one another. There was a secretive air about lit. and through the open doors she | glimpsed dimly-lit rooms—a dining room with softly shaded lights and white clad native waiters moving about very silently, a drawing room will) a wide verandah beyond it. She went straight to the desk, and the half-caste clerk who sat behind it stared at her with bold black eyes, appraising her simple coat and hat, as if he saw at a glance that she was not likely to be an ordinary patron. “I am looking for two people who had tea here, and who may have come back to dinner,” she said, “a middleaged man and a very fair girl wearing a flowered silk frock —passengers from the Hay Tor.” “1 don’t know them, but I will enquire for you. madam," he said, standing up and walking towards a room at the back of the hall.

Although he had said that he did not know them, she had seen his face change when she said tnat they were passengers from the Hay Tor—he had suddenly looked, wary and alert. It was easy enough to guess that this man, or someone else in the hotel, had heard Martin Royde give the false sailing time to Fay, and had known what his purpose was. Until then, it. had been no business of their, but if this quietly-dressed girl was going to make trouble the proprietor’of the Palm Tree had better be warned.

Two minutes later, a big man with sly eyes came from the room at the back of the hall. He was a foreigner of some sort, but Christine could not guess at his nationality—and he’spoke English with only the faintest accent. “The people whom you seek are not in the hotel at present, madam,” he told her.

"Can you tell me how to find them?" she asked quietly. "I have come from ihe ship—we have learnt accidentally that they believe that the ship does not sail until midnight, so that there is some risk that they may be stranded.”

He hesitated only for a brief moment. His lace was impassive, but Christine knew that he was making up his mind whether it would be best to deny all knowledge of Martin Roy-.le and Fay, or to be as helpful as possible. Perhaps some dim idea that he might find himself mixed up in (rouble with the shipping company made him decide to be frank-.

They have gone for a drive through the jungle in one of the hotel cars, and they are coming back to dinner at ten o’clock," he said. "Naturally, we did not know that they wore passengers from the Hay Tor, or we would have warned them about sailing time. But I will tell them myself, madam, the moment that they return —-your mind can be at rest about that." “I should prefer to wait," she said, “'they may return too late to get to the ship in time." And the young lady has no friends in Penang?—ah. I understand you. madam," he said sauvely. "You will have coffee while you wait?” (To be continued.)