‘Verney?’ said Isobel, her heart pounding. ‘Who is… this Verney?’
‘A good point,’ said Edward mournfully. ‘I don’t know. I thought he was a friend, but now I think perhaps he was double-crossing me all along. I fancied I caught a glimpse of him on the stage in all that mist… only then I decided I must have been mistaken, because the fellow hadn’t shaved. Very well-turned-out fellow, Verney, you see. But now I wonder — maybe he snatched her. Got in first, so to speak?’
‘Snatched who?’
‘This girl I came to save. Decent girl, well-brought-up, only she went to pieces out here. Verney told me she was in good hands, but now I ask myself whether it wasn’t he who made her come out of a cake.’
‘Out of a cake?’
‘Yes, incredible, isn’t it? So I thought I’d bring her back by force — for her own good, of course. It was what her father wanted. Only those idiots seized the wrong girl. Well, it was I who told them to, but I could have sworn it was her. She used to tie her shoes just like that… only of course, they all tie their shoes like that in the ballet — you can see it in those paintings by that French fellow, the way they bend over. And they all whiten their arms and scrape back their hair — it’s the absolute devil trying to make out who is who.’
‘So you got the wrong girl?’
‘Yes. Only I didn’t realise it until we were a good hundred miles down the river. The stewardess gave her a sleeping draught, she kicked up such a shindy. And of course she talked Russian all the time, but we thought she was just putting it on. And then at last I went down to open the cabin door…’ He fell silent, remembering the moment of exaltation up there on the deck before he went below to forgive Harriet. ‘And then she simply flew at me. She just went for me like a tigress — biting, scratching, kicking. There was no way I could defend myself. But that wasn’t all — my injuries are nothing; it’s what she did to—’
He swallowed. It seemed he could not yet say the creature’s name without being overcome by emotion.
‘To what?’
‘Peripatus,’ Edward brought out. ‘I had it with me in a travelling case — you can’t leave something as valuable as that lying about in a cabin. And she tore the box from my hand and threw it on the ground and then when the bottle rolled out she…’ He fought for control once more. ‘She stepped on it. Deliberately. Ground it into the floor with her heel. The specimen is totally destroyed.’
‘What on earth is Peripatus?’
Edward told her. ‘I can’t tell you what a knock it is. I wouldn’t have thought anyone could do that… deliberately.’
‘Well, the creature was dead, wasn’t it? So it didn’t suffer?’
‘I suffered,’ said Edward. ‘I don’t think I shall ever get over it. There are things a chap never forgets. And now what am I to do with her? She doesn’t speak a word of English and just kicks anyone who comes near her; she’s raving mad. Of course she’s had a bad time, I can see that. She keeps saying all these names — Yussop and Grigory and Alexi — over and over again, and passing her finger across her neck, so I suppose she means they’re her brothers and they will cut my throat. But if she comes from a large family, maybe she’s homesick?’
Olga had got a splinter of glass into her foot through grinding the tube into the ground with her ballet shoes. She’d gone quite quiet while he took the splinter out of her heel — such a hard, muscular foot she had. All of her was hard and muscular, which was not what he had expected; well, not quite all of her… But then when he’d finished she’d started wrestling with him again. Verney’s men had thought it a great joke when she wouldn’t go with them, but what the devil was he to do?
‘And what of the girl you came to save?’ Isobel asked.
Edward shrugged wearily. ‘What can I do? She’s completely depraved. Mind you, there is no way Harriet could have done that to Peripatus. She may come out of cakes—’
‘Harriet! Is that her name?’
Edward nodded. No good trying to shield Harriet now, things had gone well beyond that. ‘Her name is Harriet Morton. Her father’s a professor at my own college, St Philip’s, and she used to be a thoroughly decent girl. At least, I thought she was. As a matter of fact, we were at Stavely only three months ago.’
‘Tell me about her. All about her,’ said Isobel, forcing herself to look appealingly into his eyes.
So Edward told her the story of his courtship and pursuit, the distress Harriet had caused to him and her father, and the part that Verney had played in the story while Isobel listened, here and there putting in a question, and storing away everything she heard, for knowledge was power and power she now needed desperately.
‘And you think she’s still in Manaus?’
‘I’m sure she is. And I’ll bet Verney’s got hold of her. The more I think about it, the more certain I am that it was him I saw behind that rock. You mark my words, he wants her for himself!’
Isobel had risen, was putting on her gloves and unhooking her parasol from the back of the chair. ‘Well, if I can find out anything more for you, I’ll let you know. You say her father wants her back?’
‘Yes… That is, I think so. Yes, I’m sure he does. But it’s Olga I’m thinking about. The Gregory leaves again in a few hours and I simply don’t know what to do. I suppose you can’t advise me?’
‘I’m afraid not, Dr Finch-Dutton,’ said Isobel coldly. ‘The matter is one that you must decide for yourself.’ There was nothing more to be got from this fool and very little time now in which to act.
It was only as Isobel was bidding him goodbye that Edward thought to ask after Henry. ‘How’s the little chap? Getting on all right?’
‘Henry is quite better, thank you,’ said Isobel firmly and walked away quickly in the direction of the shipping office, leaving Edward to pay for her ice-cream.
An hour later, she was back in the convent.
‘I have made up my mind,’ she informed Sisters Concepcion and Margharita, who were giving Henry a blanket bath. ‘We are travelling on to Manaus tonight. There’s a spare cabin on the Bernadetto — a nice breezy one,’ she lied. And as they stared at her incredulously she went on firmly, ‘It will do him good to be in the fresh air; he can lie in a deck-chair and drink beef tea. We don’t mollycoddle our children in England like you do out here. And Henry will wish to travel on, won’t you, Henry?’
‘Yes.’ Henry’s hoarse croak came with incredible gallantry from the bed. He did want to travel on; he longed, as a matter of fact, for alligators and boa constrictors. It was only the dark and his mother’s anger that Henry feared. Only it was going to be a little bit difficult. Even sitting up seemed to make his head go round and round.
‘It’s an outrage!’ stormed Sister Concepcion, returning to the refectory. ‘The child hasn’t even been out of bed! I shall call Dr Gonzales.’
But even Dr Gonzales, when he came, could not make Isobel change her mind. It was, she told herself, Henry’s own heritage that she was trying to save; it was because of Henry and Stavely that she must find Rom at once and get rid of the hussy, who had, after all, managed to make herself known to him. To be soft now, decided Isobel, turning away from the white face and dark-ringed eyes of her small son, would be to do Henry no service. Even now some dreadful school or institution might be making an offer for Stavely and those wretched trustees would accept anything to get their money.