Free Gone Away by Marjorie Moore Page B

during the past four weeks, his one ambition had been to see Maimie reunited with her future husband.
    “No, I can’t see him anywhere. I was just saying to Pat, wouldn’t it be awful if he didn’t come?”
    “Nonsense!” Claud laughed. “He’ll turn up. You can’t expect to see anyone in that crowd. He’s probably lurking behind one of those cases of bananas!”
    “It’s all very well to laugh ... ” Maimie relapsed into eloquent silence.
    “It’s all right, my dear, really it is!” Claud’s voice was unusually gentle, so gentle that Patricia experienced a momentary surprise at the tender inflection. “He’ll be along by the time we’re ready to go ashore,” he added consolingly as h is hand rested for a fleeting second on Maimie’s shoulder. “I suggest you both come along and have a farewell drink. We’ll find Alastar and get him to join us.” Maimie turned away reluctantly from the rail over which she had been leaning since the ship had been tied alongside, and allowed her friends to lead her toward the smoke room. “ There’s Alastar!” Claud called out as he espied Ian in conversation with a group of passengers, obviously indulging in farewell speeches, and promises—usually broken—to look them up at an early date.
    “ We’re going along for a drink. Come and join us?”
    “Rather!” Ian’s cheerful voice called in reply. “I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
    The other three made their way to the smoke room, and, with one impulse, selected the corner table that, during those happy days of travel, they had always occupied. That was how it had been throughout the journey ... a special corner, a special chair or table always ready, almost like their own property. When they were comfortably ensconced in deep leather armchairs, Claud re-opened the conversation. “Strange to think this’ll be our last drink on board—but not our last drink together.” He beckoned a steward and gave the order. “I hope we’ll have many more meetings ashore.”
    “You’re not living far from Maimie’s future home, are you?” Patricia questioned, conscious of anxiously awaiting Claud’s answer.
    “Warinder’s estate is about six miles from my bungalow; we’re both a few miles outside Singapore,” Claud explained. “Ian’s right in Singapore. Dr. Wane, the fellow he’s joining, has got a big practice there.”
    “I see.” Patricia lapsed into silence and sipped the cocktail the steward had placed before her.
    “Dr. Wane will be here to meet Ian, I suppose,” Maimie suggested. “Did anyone spot him on the dock?”
    “I didn’t, although I expect he’ll be there, and his sister too. They are bound to meet Alastar, considering he’s going back to stay with them.”
    As Claud spoke, Ian Alastar’s figure appeared in the doorway, “I say, you must excuse me not joining you. The purser has just told me that Dr. Wane has come on board. I can’t stop now; I must go down to the gangway and find out.”
    “Do you know if Seymour was there as well?” Maimie called after Ian’s departing figure.
    “Can’t say, but if he was I’ll tell him where to find you,” Ian called back.
    “I can’t bear waiting here; if he’s on board I must go and find him.” Maimie made to rise, but Claud urged her back to her seat.
    “Don’t be silly; you’ll only miss him. Alastar will tell him where you are, and, if he has come aboard, he’ll be along in a moment.”
    Patricia suddenly became aware of Maimie’s glance turned to the aperture of the doorway leading to the deck, where a figure stood silhouetted against the brilliant blue of the sky beyond. Before she had realized the probable identity of the newcomer, Maimie had struggled to her feet and made a whirlwind rush toward the advancing figure. “I wondered what had happened to you ... I thought you must have forgotten to come.” Maimie’s words were no longer coherent as the tall stranger caught her flying figure in his arms and,