Thursday, May 30, 2013

The Truth About Treasure Island by Dan McNay- To be published THIS SUMMER

Stevenson's Flirtation With the Australian Governor's Wife


August 15th
            Mr. Stevenson appeared today for lunch. He didn’t bring anyone with him and there wasn’t anyone at the house except Lady Jersey and myself. I was instructed to serve them on the verandah. Mr. Stevenson had definite instructions on what made a good Vailima lunch. Tea, of course, and then a tray of whatever fruit might be available, sliced and skinned if need be. Then cold thinly sliced meat, whatever was left over from dinner and pickles and hard boiled eggs. And crackers, of course. This was exactly how he said it to me and then he winked dramatically, as if we were coconspirators in some low rent theater piece. Then the villain would slip the maid a large bill and proceed to seduce the mistress. He offered no money, but did offer a large Robert Louis Stevenson smile. So I did come up with most of it. Mr. Haggard had no eggs, so I whipped up a small bowl of ham salad as something different and served it all out to them. After the tea was served, I retreated to the house, but not out of earshot.
            I sat down in the parlor and then thought I’d better have an alibi, so I went upstairs for some needlepoint, which if  I was discovered, I could claim the parlor as the only place for close work, since it had the best light. I had missed some of what had been said.
            “She has a swelling that comes and goes in her abdomen and some pain with it. The holuku hides the swelling. I suppose in western dress with a tight waist it would be unbearable, plus she doesn’t think I know, and she thinks she is hiding her condition from us. The holuku really has become the height of fashion here now.”
            “She should go to the doctor,” Lady Jersey said.
            “You should tell her that,” he said.
            “She has hated me from the very beginning.” (I could almost see her turn and smile at him ) “She has every right too, I suppose. Her hair?”
            “She claims she was engrossed in reading a pamphlet on tropical plants and Belle was trimming her hair. Belle just got carried away and suddenly cut off all of it off.”
            (There was a silent pause.)
            “I know, I think Fanny put her up to it, so that if we all hated it, she could blame someone else. She quickly got over it and it has not gotten any longer in six months. She must be trimming it at night when no one is looking.”
            “We sleep separately,” he said as an afterthought.
            “So do we,” she said, laughing. “Perhaps I should start running around in granny’s nightgown too!”
            “That might prove to be very seductive,” he said. “I can see you like that on horseback. What a painting that would make!”
            “With my hair down like Lady Godiva?”
            “Hmmm”
            What did that Hmmm mean? Did I dare to look? It would be just my luck to find them kissing, and finding her eyes looking back at me when I walked out on them. I went to the kitchen for more hot water to refill their teapot. As I reached the door, I stopped to see what they were doing. They were smoking cigarettes. But they were also holding hands, ever so gently. I knocked my pot against the doorframe and their hands dropped.
            “We’ve had enough, Tess. Please take it back. We’re done,” she said.
            “So are you coming along tomorrow?” he asked me.
            I looked at Lady Jersey. I hadn’t been informed of their plans.
            “Oh, she’s coming. You’re up for something quite dangerous, aren’t you?”
            “I guess.”
            “I understand you have been down our famous water slide,” he said.
            I must have blushed.
            “Yes, sir.”

            “Then you’re ready for anything!” he said.

No comments: