Page 21 of The Sapphire Child
Stella found it hard to concentrate on writing a letter home. What would she tell her parents or the Lomaxes about the first week at sea? That it was as if they were travelling unchaperoned? That by the time she’d recovered from horrendous seasickness Andrew was under the influence of a handsome, irresponsible cabin-mate who encouraged him to drink whisky? That she, Stella, had spent the past couple of days neglecting Andrew in favour of the dance floor and keeping company with Moira Jessop, a failed governess with a racy reputation? Least of all could she tell them she was drawn like a magnet to that same cabin-mate, a charming, fun Irishman with a broad smile and dark-blue eyes. Any of these things would send her mother and father rushing for the vapours, and the Lomaxes regretting having sent her at all.
So she wrote a subtly censored version about playing deck quoits and reading in the library; of how friendly their chaperone was, and that Andrew was well and eating heartily.
She looked across the table at Andrew labouring over a single page of the ship’s headed writing paper. He’d hardly written morethan two sentences. Was he really as okay as she hoped or had he drunk too much last night to mask his unhappiness? Since he’d unburdened himself to her about his anxiety that his father was somehow rejecting him – as well as his fears of meeting his formidable mother – Andrew had appeared to be in good spirits. But perhaps he was still troubled. She would have to keep a closer eye on him; after all, that was what the Lomaxes had entrusted her with.
Andrew chewed his pen and glanced at her with bloodshot eyes.
Stella laughed. ‘You look terrible. Shall we go and find some lime juice and leave the writing till later?’
Andrew grinned at her in relief, already half out of his chair. ‘Oh, yes please, Stella!’
She gathered up their half-hearted attempts at correspondence and followed him out.
Hugh took Stella aside after dinner. ‘Will you come on deck with me, Miss Dubois? I feel I owe you an explanation.’ When Stella hesitated and glanced over at Andrew, Hugh persisted. ‘The lad’s going to get an early night. Please, come with me – just for a few minutes.’
Stella nodded. ‘Just a few minutes then.’
Her heart thumped as she walked with him and tried not to keep glancing at his face; the straight nose, the dimpled chin and the sweep of wavy brown hair that made her want to run her fingers over its undulations. He’d become adept at going up and down stairs with only one crutch, so Stella carried the other one until they were out on deck. He led her towards the rail and leaned against it.
‘Look at those stars,’ he said, gazing up in wonder. ‘Have you ever seen such a sight?’
‘Yes, loads of times,’ she said. ‘The night sky over the Himalayas can be even brighter.’
Hugh laughed. ‘Oh, Miss Dubois, I love your candour. It’s so refreshing. Too many women just agree with men out of politeness.’
Stella blushed. She didn’t think she’d said anything out of the ordinary. The way he was looking at her keenly made her pulse start to race.
‘I’m feeling bad about leading Andrew astray last night,’ he said, ‘and I can tell you’re still cross with me.’
Stella half-turned away and gazed out across the dark sea. ‘As I said, I feel guilty for neglecting Andrew. I’m as cross with myself as with you, MrKeating.’
‘Well, don’t be,’ he said. ‘I think what happened was probably a good thing.’
Stella looked at him in astonishment. ‘Why on earth do you say that?’
‘Because he won’t do it again in a hurry. It might have put him off liquor for life – or at least for a few years. And isn’t it better that he experienced his first taste of whisky in the company of someone who cares about his welfare and wouldn’t let him have too much – and certainly won’t be telling his parents?’
She felt wrong-footed by his argument, as if somehow the whole thing had indeed been a good thing.
‘I’m not sure about that,’ she answered.
‘Stella,’ he said, ‘may I call you Stella?’ She nodded and he continued, ‘The other good thing was that the whisky loosened his tongue. Andrew started confiding in me about things that are worrying him.’
Stella felt alarmed. ‘What did he say?’
‘How he’s nervous about meeting his mother. He doesn’t know her and is frightened he won’t like her – especially as his father and stepmother have never really spoken about her.’
Stella sighed. ‘Well, I’m concerned about it too. I remember Andrew’s mother as quite a difficult woman – moody and demanding. But at other times she could be charm itself.’
‘Well, perhaps you’d better not tell that to Andrew. The more you encourage him that it’ll be all right the better, don’t you think?’
‘Yes,’ Stella agreed. ‘Thank you for telling me. Andy hasn’t said any of this to me recently. I’ll try and think of some nice things to say about his overbearing mother.’
Hugh smiled. ‘That’s all I wanted to say. Now, I won’t keep you if you want to join Moira and the others.’
Stella turned back to stare out to sea. ‘It’s so lovely out on deck; I think I’ll stay a little longer.’
‘You don’t mind if I keep you company?’ he asked.
