Welcome to Paradise by Jill Tahourdin Page A

might be coming back, and he was ensuring that she would be under an obligation to him after all.
    Rather far-fetched, she thought. Too obvious for the ordinary person, such as herself. Oh well—too late to change her mind now. Frederick was revving up his engine. Her aunt was standing waving on the steps.
    “Goodbye, darling. Bon voyage. My love to the Murrays.”
    “Goodbye, thanks for everything, Aunt Drusilla.”
    She was looking at her aunt, she realized, through a mist of foolish tears. Resolutely she shook them away, and gazed for what might be the last time at the lovely lagoon, and the white and pastel houses nestling so cosily on its green banks.
    “Goodbye, Paradise,” she said aloud.
    Frederick turned round with an enquiring look.
    “Nothing,” she told him hastily.
    He drove on, through the ranks of pines and wattles and gums, down the incline to the rough causeway, past the salt meadows which were now flooded by the incoming tide, and on to the national road. This the big car proceeded to eat up at a steady sixty-five, which increased to seventy on the straight. It was glorious. Alix opened the windows and let the warm spring air blow on her. Mild exhilaration gradually ousted her annoyance and depression. She was off—on her way to Rhodesia; to Bernard; perhaps to everything she wanted of life.
    Perhaps ...
    The Murrays were indeed impressed when she stepped out at their door.
    “My dear child, how sumptuous,” Mrs. Murray exclaimed. She directed Fredrick where to put Alix’s cases, then kissed her, gave the driver a tip, and drew her guest indoors.
    “We were so surprised when Drusilla rang up,” she began; then seeing Alix grow pink, quickly ran on to talk of her journey, and said that tea was waiting, Sarah would be in with it in just one minute, and would she like to wash first or did thirst come before cleanliness?
    Alix laughed and said yes, please, it did. She liked Mrs. Murray and was thankful to be spending the night with her instead of alone in some hotel. She settled down to give her all the news of Paradise, and told her of the portentous meeting which must be just about to take place.
    Mrs. Murray was entranced.
    “It’s too dramatic,” she exclaimed. “Do you suppose Drusilla has a hope of getting the better of Andrew?”
    “Not really, Mrs. Murray. Actually, she admits she’s seen the writing on the wall, as she calls it—but she won’t let Uncle Edgar’s beloved Paradise go without a struggle.”
    “But what, really, can she do?”
    “I don’t quite know. She didn’t say. But she hinted at what she called ‘nuisance value.’ She and the owner of that car I came in are in this together. I shan’t know what’s happened till I hear from Aunt Drusilla up in Salisbury.”
    “I don’t know how you could bear to tear yourself away,” Mrs. Murray exclaimed.
    Alix found herself thinking, Nor do I.
    She slept badly that night. She wasn’t sure whether what she was doing was wise or foolish. But it was too late to look back now. Soon she would be in the airliner, flying to Johannesburg where she must spend the night before changing into a larger airliner for Salisbury.
    That was another thing that kept her awake. She had never flown before. Ghastly to think of making her first flight alone. Would she be scared? Air-sick? But didn’t they have charming air hostesses who fed you glucose sweets and gave you brandy if you looked ill?
    She fell asleep at length and dreamed she was flying over the lagoon in a tiny plane, and then it turned out she was merely watching a flight of egrets, and Richard was saying, “I regret to have to tell you that those lovely-looking creatures are by profession tick-birds.”
    And she was saying, “So disillusioning,” when there came a knock on the door, and Mrs. Murray’s maid Maria came in with her early tea.
    “It goin’ to be a lovely day, Miss Ellix,” she said.
    “Oh, good.” At least she wouldn’t be flying into storms and