those outrageous things to her. Her face burned with the memory, but it was not an entirely unpleasant sensation. He had made her feel excited and grown-up. and she wondered what he might have done if she had not made good her escape. Her lips parted in recollection of the disturbing curve of his. He had been going to kiss her—she had known that. And now she half regretted the panic which had denied her that experience. She was curious to know how a man kissed a woman. Not the circumspect peck that Doctor Francis had given her. but a meeting of the lips, as she had only read in Colette and Flaubert. She sighed. Doctor Francis was right. She did not understand the needs of her own body, and she left the bathroom quickly, before she was tempted to explore further.
Doctor Francis departed that afternoon, after assuring himself that his patient was on the mend. Ruth accompanied him down to the harbour, where the motor launch was waiting to take him back to Kingstown. and as they reached the small quay he gripped her hand very tightly.
'Take care,' he said, bending to bestow a warm kiss on her forehead. 'And remember what I told you. Get your father to let you come to Kingstown and stay with Mary and me. You could do with a few days' holiday, couldn't you? And some new clothes, from the look of these.'
Ruth looked down at the shabby tee-shirt and cotton skirt in inconsequent appraisal. 'I never wear skirts normally,' she confessed. 'But Daddy said—'
'I can guess what Daddy said,' retorted Doctor Francis dryly, and Ruth looked a little unhappy as she remembered the terse way the two men had bade goodbye to one another. 'But believe me, it's time you stretched the apron strings. Promise me you'll mention my invitation to your father.'
'I will.' Ruth nodded. But she didn't hold out much hope for its expedition. The Francises had invited her to St Vincent before, but her father had always maintained she was too young to leave the island without an escort. And as he never stayed away from Indigo, she hadn't either.
She bought some fish for supper, before going back to the bungalow. One could buy all kinds of seafood from the stalls on the quay, the men of the island relying on their catch to supplement their income. There was a small workers' co-operative, organised by Father Andreas, and the fruit and vegetables that grew so plentifully beneath the hot Caribbean sun were harvested and transported to St Vincent, and sold in the market there; but the island was small and in consequence the income was small also. Still, the West Indians managed to survive, and Ruth had always envied them their evident joy of living.
She was sauntering up from the harbour when she encountered the elderly priest himself, coming down the path that led to the chapel. Some years ago, with the villagers' help, he had succeeded in erecting a wooden building that served as both a house of worship and a dwelling place, and as Father Andreas's needs were small, he was well content. His contacts with Ruth and her father were mostly infrequent. Professor Jason's strong views on the weaknesses of religion and the power of the church vying with the priest's vows of allegiance. But he was always happy to see Ruth and now he smiled his welcome.
'I hear you have a visitor.' he continued, after their initial greetings were over, in the faintly guttural accent that still lingered, in spite of the fact that he had left Salonika many years ago. 'An Englishman, by all accounts. And you were his benefactor.'
'Oh . . .' Ruth waved her arm deprecatingly, 'all I did was find him on the beach. His yacht was wrecked in the storm, and he was lucky to survive.'
'Indeed he was.' Father Andreas scratched his bald pate. 'The Lord moves in mysterious ways, as they say.'
Ruth, smiled, her own beliefs less implacable than her father's. 'You must come and visit him. Father.' she invited. 'Doctor Francis says he'll probably have to stay here for several days.'
'Ah.-yes. Doctor
Doctor Francis departed that afternoon, after assuring himself that his patient was on the mend. Ruth accompanied him down to the harbour, where the motor launch was waiting to take him back to Kingstown. and as they reached the small quay he gripped her hand very tightly.
'Take care,' he said, bending to bestow a warm kiss on her forehead. 'And remember what I told you. Get your father to let you come to Kingstown and stay with Mary and me. You could do with a few days' holiday, couldn't you? And some new clothes, from the look of these.'
Ruth looked down at the shabby tee-shirt and cotton skirt in inconsequent appraisal. 'I never wear skirts normally,' she confessed. 'But Daddy said—'
'I can guess what Daddy said,' retorted Doctor Francis dryly, and Ruth looked a little unhappy as she remembered the terse way the two men had bade goodbye to one another. 'But believe me, it's time you stretched the apron strings. Promise me you'll mention my invitation to your father.'
'I will.' Ruth nodded. But she didn't hold out much hope for its expedition. The Francises had invited her to St Vincent before, but her father had always maintained she was too young to leave the island without an escort. And as he never stayed away from Indigo, she hadn't either.
She bought some fish for supper, before going back to the bungalow. One could buy all kinds of seafood from the stalls on the quay, the men of the island relying on their catch to supplement their income. There was a small workers' co-operative, organised by Father Andreas, and the fruit and vegetables that grew so plentifully beneath the hot Caribbean sun were harvested and transported to St Vincent, and sold in the market there; but the island was small and in consequence the income was small also. Still, the West Indians managed to survive, and Ruth had always envied them their evident joy of living.
She was sauntering up from the harbour when she encountered the elderly priest himself, coming down the path that led to the chapel. Some years ago, with the villagers' help, he had succeeded in erecting a wooden building that served as both a house of worship and a dwelling place, and as Father Andreas's needs were small, he was well content. His contacts with Ruth and her father were mostly infrequent. Professor Jason's strong views on the weaknesses of religion and the power of the church vying with the priest's vows of allegiance. But he was always happy to see Ruth and now he smiled his welcome.
'I hear you have a visitor.' he continued, after their initial greetings were over, in the faintly guttural accent that still lingered, in spite of the fact that he had left Salonika many years ago. 'An Englishman, by all accounts. And you were his benefactor.'
'Oh . . .' Ruth waved her arm deprecatingly, 'all I did was find him on the beach. His yacht was wrecked in the storm, and he was lucky to survive.'
'Indeed he was.' Father Andreas scratched his bald pate. 'The Lord moves in mysterious ways, as they say.'
Ruth, smiled, her own beliefs less implacable than her father's. 'You must come and visit him. Father.' she invited. 'Doctor Francis says he'll probably have to stay here for several days.'
'Ah.-yes. Doctor
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