"GAY VENTURE"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 1 November 1940, Page 10

"GAY VENTURE"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

T. C. BRIDGES.

CHAPTER XVI. Dicky arrived late on Tuesday evening. His face was almost black —it was so burnt; he looked thin and pinched and years older. Joyce gave him a wordless hug, then Eve who had been sitting by the window came across. Her face had lost colour and sharpened, but she was perfectly composed. “Tell me, Dicky,” she said gently. “But sit down first. You look all in.” Dicky dropped into a chair. All the life seemed to be drained out of him. “They crashed,” he said abruptly. “But Keith was not killed then,” Eve told him. “No. It’s a pity he wasn’t. Oh, Eve, I don’t know how to tell you.” His face was working and Eve laid a hand on his arm. “You loved him, too, Dicky. But, remember, I couldn’t go. You are the only one who knows.” Dicky’s lips tightened. He went on, “I found the plane. It was about half-way between Beni Abbes and Tanderi. It had burned. I examined it but there were no bodies, no bones. I searched but could find no tracks. It was stony country. Then I went up again and saw palm trees a long way to the east. It seemed to me that was what they would make for if they’d 1 seen it from the air. “It was an oasis, a small place with one well and just a few people. There was one man who talked a little French. His name was Boulifa. I

' think he was part Arab, part French. He told me that some of his people had found the bodies of two Rcumis (Europeans) about three miles out. They had brought them in and buried them. He showed me the graves and gave me this.” He took Keith’s wristwatch from his pocket and handed it to Eve. . Eve sat perfectly still, dry-eyed, gazing at the small chromium-plated , watch with its blackened leather wrist band. ‘Thank you, Dicky,” she said. “Thank you very much indeed.” Then she got up and went softly into the other room. Joyce looked at Dicky. “Oh, Dicky!” she cried, and flung herself into his arms. Eve refused to take a single day off work or to wear black. Keith had told her once how deeply he disliked that form of mourning. She wrote to her sister, telling her briefly what had happened, and saying that, for the present at least, she was staying in England. “I have found work that I can do," she wrote. “I have discovered that I have the knack of trimming hats. I am getting three pounds a week, living quite comfortably with Joyce Lovell and even saving a little. My chief anxiety is for Joyce. She is not strong and comes nome exhausted each evening. What she needs is a holiday, but that is just what we can’t afford. A week at a cheap seaside lodging would be worse than useless.” Eve was right about Joyce. The work and the heat together were too much for her, and on one specially hot afternoon she fainted. Eve took her home in a taxi, put her to bed and called in a doctor. He overhauled Joyce, came out and said to Eve. ‘There is nothing organically wrong, but she is completely run down. What she needs is a month’s rest by the sea or in the country air. That, with plenty of good food,, should put her on her feet again.” When he had gone Eve sat down and racked her brain. She could see no way out. She had a few pounds saved, but not nearly enough for a month in the country. In any case she could not let Joyce go alone. At last she got up and set the kettle the, tea and cut some thin bread and the tea and cut some thin bred and butter when there came a knock. Opening the door, she stepped back in surprise. Her visitor was Jack Sagar. “May I come in,” he asked. Then he saw the tray. “If it’s inconvenient I can call some other time,” he added. “Come in,” said Eve quietly. “Sit down, won’t you. I have to take this tray to Miss Lovell, who is not very well. I will be back in a moment.” When she came back she found Sagar, sitting with his hat and gloves on his knee. He seemed oddly stiff, almost nervous. “I have been away," he said, “and I only came to town yesterday. I wanted to know how you were and what you were doing.” “I am very well, thank you," said Eve. “And I have work which keeps me busy. I want to thank you vei’y much for your kindness in providing money for the search.” Ii was the least I could do,” said Sagar. I am your only relative in

England. And Eve, I was mighty sorry 1 that—that it turned out as it did. e Eve’s upper lip quivered slightly. c I can t talk of it yet,” she told him. ( ”1 don’t want you to talk of it or of s anything that will hurt you. My main “ reason for coming here was to tell you c how sorry lam about the way you had 1 to leave my house. I wouldn't have 1 had it happen for all I've got.” s “Yet it was your fault," said Eve looking at him very straight. r “I know that right enough.” Eve 1 was surprised at the bitterness of his = voice. I paid Miss Lynd to bring you ' down.” a Did you pay her also to bring me E home?" Eve asked. He nodded. * I did. You see, Eve, I've been in 1 love with you a right long time.” 1 “What do you mean?” Eve at last c was really surprised. From a notecase * Sagar took a small unmounted photograph and handed it to Eve. 1 "You recognise that," he asked. 1 Eve stared at a picture of herself, a c snapshot showing her seated on a ponv in fiont of her brother-in-law’s house - in New Zealand. “Yes, I remember that. It was taken 1 about a year ago by a man who stayed the night.” "His name was Kerry. He showed me this picture and 1 begged it from

t him. I fell in love with you from that minute. First, I thought of going out ■ to New Zealand, then I decided to get > you home. I thought, if you saw Crof- [ ton, you might like it well enough to : take me with it. There’s the whole i story for you.” Eve looked at her cousin and wondered why she could not like him better. He spoke again. “Eve, you’re thin. You look tired. Don't you get any holidays?” “I am hoping to have one shortly. “But not the sort you ought to have. See here, you say Miss Lovell isn’t well. Won’t you both come down to Crofton for a bit You can bring anyone you like and I won’t bother you.” Eve’s first impulse was to refuse, then came the thought of Joyce. A perfect holiday for her at no cost at all except their fares, And, with Joyce there, she herself would feel safe. Sagar was watching her. “I hope you’ll come,” he said simply and went away. Eve walked into the other room. “Was that Sagar?” Joyce asked eagerly. “It was. And he wants us both to go down to Crofton.” Joyce’s eyes widened. ! “You wouldn’t go, Eve—not after what happened last time!” “That wasn’t Jack Sagar’s fault, Joyce. It was Miss Lynd’s.” “But you hate the man.” “I don’t like him,” Eve admitted. “But listen. The doctor has told me that you must have a change. He said definitely a month's rest and good food. Joyce, I think we should go.” Joyce lay back against her pillows. A little flush of excitement stained her pale cheeks. “It would be perfectly heavenly, Eve. To think of a whole month in that lovely air and scenery!” “Very we 11.,” Eve said quietly. “I’ll accept.” Joyce stretched out a thin arm.

“But, Eve, Madame will never let us both go for a month. She might let you for she likes you, but not me.” “Leave that to me, Joyce,” Eve said. “I feel sure it will be all right. Madame thinks more of you than you fancy. Now rest until supper.” Eve was right about Madame. Next day, when Eve told her what the doctor had said, she agreed that Joyce should have her four weeks. “And as for you. Eve, you've earned a holiday. You’ve brought me a lot of business and you’ve worked hard and well. You shall go but, mind you, I expect you to come back and carry on.” “I should be very ungrateful if I didn't,” Eve said. “Thank you very much, madame.”

The next thing was to let Dicky know. Eve did this by telephone and Dicky was very grateful. “It will make a new girl of her. Eve. you're a dear,” he said. Eve then called up Sagar who was evidently delighted. i

"I*ll meet you at Exeter,” he said. “I’m very glad you are coming.” Sagar’s chauffeur, the saturnine Maltby, was at Exeter to meet them, and the great car glided smoothly up and down the big hills and through deep tree-shaded lanes. Joyce was entranced. She looked better already. Eve noted with pleasure that the depressed Mrs. Holt greeted her with a faint smile,, while Esther was clearly glad to see her again. They had tea, then Joyce went to her room to rest and Eve strolled out.

Eve had never yet been up to the Close itself and she wondered whether a nearer view would make any difference to her feelings concerning it. So far from this being the case the nearer she came to the old house the more she disliked it.

It stood on a narrow ledge on the steep hill side so the house itself was narrow and tall. It looked like a fortress with its immensely thick granite walls, high narrow windows and a front dooi - of solid oak studded with huge rusty nails. The front was completely covered with a mat of ivy which did not look as if it had been cut for years, and had quite hidden some of the windows.

She went round to the back and found a yard enclosed by high walls with no way in except by a locked door. Behind the house were tall trees, making an almost impenetrable wall and looking extraordinarily black and gloomy in spite of the bright sunshine. In front of the house immense thickets of nettles raised their ugly heads. Over all reigned a profound and gloomy silence. Eve shivered and turning, walked quickly away towards the river. There she found the hollow tree in which she had hidden her rod. It was quite unharmed and she brought it back to the Dower House ahd set to work to put her tackle in order.

Eve could not sleep that night. Coming back to Crofton had stirred up old emotions. It seemed impossible that only a few weeks had passed since the day she had escaped to London and said to herself that she would never see Sagar again. Keith was never long out of her thoughts, and tonight she had the fey mood on her. When al last she drifted into a half sleep it seemed to her that she saw him again. He was standing in front of a tent made of some very dark stuff and he himself was wearing a blanket-like garment with a hood over his head. He was gauntly thin, his face was burned almost black and he had a thick beard and moustache. He was gazing out into the distance but what his eyes rested on that was beyond Eve's vision. What she could see with the utmost distinctness was the look of longing in his eyes. “Keith!" she cried, and, as before, the vision faded and she was lying in her bed in the dim greyness of early dawn. (To be Continued).