But I would come back to Sydney and get on that Wednesday boat out to Cariba, and I expected that while I was there, making enquiries about Philip. I should see something of Milton Harrington. I might as well admit that I should look forward to that.
But I could not curb my anxiety concerning Felicity. She was on the verge of marriage with a man for whom she did not care; and now I had seen him I could understand why. What on earth had possessed her to agree to marry him? Why did she feel that just because she had been jilted by this other man, she had to take the very next one who came along? Was she afraid of growing into a spinster and becoming like Miss Cartwright? It was madness and I had a very strong notion that she was regretting it now. But even at this hour it was not too late. She was not married yet.
We went through narrow winding streets into a busy thoroughfare and in due course arrived at the hotel. It was spacious with red velvet curtains and rich red carpets and a great deal of brass.
I noticed that Milton Harrington was treated with great respect by the staff of the hotel who seemed to know him well. He whispered to me: "I'm a good customer. I always stay here when I am in Sydney." He went on in a louder tone: "Shall we all meet before dinner for an aperitif?"
William Granville said that would be an excellent idea.
So it was arranged and we were taken to our rooms. Mine and Felicity's were next door to each other.
I looked round mine. The furniture was large, the ceiling was high and there was a window which looked out on the street. The furnishings were similar to those in the reception hall—heavy red velvet curtains caught back by thick bands of brass. There was an air of cleanliness about the place which was pleasant.
I felt a little bewildered. Here I was, miles from home, bent on carrying out a rather vague mission and very much aware of moving towards a climax for which I had not bargained. First there was Felicity. Her wedding was imminent, and I could not help feeling alarmed at the prospect of what was going to happen to her. I had taken an instant dislike to her bridegroom. There was much about him that I did not trust. He looked... what was the word... ? Debauched? No, that was a little too strong, but somewhere near it. I thought his glance at me had been offensively bold ... but only slighdy. He had been pleasant enough outwardly. He had seemed to be delighted to greet Felicity. Was I seeing him clearly? How unwise it was to judge people on one meeting! So there was Felicity to stir up my apprehension; and of course, Milton Harrington. I was annoyed because that man kept coming into my thoughts. He was a born intruder, always where he was not wanted. Or was he wanted? Why did I feel faintly depressed because soon he would be taking that Wednesday boat?
I must forget these side issues and remember my mission. I was here to find out what had happened to Philip; and when I had the answer I would go home and marry Raymond and live in peace.
I unpacked my small case, washed and changed, and when I had done that, Felicity was knocking on my door.
"Oh ... are you ready?"
"Yes, come in. How is your room?"
"Just like this one."
"It seems very comfortable."
This was small talk because we were afraid of saying what was on our minds.
"William seemed very pleased to see you here," I said, banally.
"Yes," she answered.
"You're going to find it all very exciting."
She nodded unconvincingly.
I put my arm round her and kissed her. She clung to me for a moment.
"You're coming out to the property with us, aren't you?"
"If you want me to... for a little while. But I dare say William won't want an intruder on his honeymoon."
"You promised to come."
"I know and I will... for a week or so. You'll be settled in by then."
That seemed to comfort her.
There was a knock on the door. It was a maid who said she had come to take us down to the gentlemen.
I awoke next morning to brilliant sunshine streaming into my room.
I lay still for a few moments reminding myself that I was in Sydney and my quest had begun. This morning I would see if 1 could find David Gutheridge. I remembered that there had been talk of an Australian Botanical Association. David would certainly have been in communication with them. Who knew, I might have the astounding good luck to find him there now.
In any case it would be a start.
My thoughts drifted back to the evening. We had had our aperitif and then dined off great steaks which seemed to have been enjoyed by the men: both Felicity and I found them far too much.
"We have big appetites in Australia," said William Granville. "It is due to being so much out of doors."
I noticed he drank with relish and as he did so there was a change in him. He took Felicity's hand, patting it and placing it on his thigh. Felicity looked decidedly uncomfortable.
Milton Harrington took charge of the conversation and talked about Australia at great length and I learned that William Granville had been here for twenty years. I gathered that he was about thirty-eight although he looked much older.
"The first thing you ladies must do tomorrow," said Milton, "is to buy big shady hats. That is so, is it not, Granville? We can't have them ruining their delicate skins. I tell you, this Australian sun will wreak havoc with your complexions."
"We'll go shopping tomorrow, Annalice." said Felicity.
I found the evening embarrassing and Milton Harrington knew that I did. I was very glad to get to my room. I thought Felicity might come in after we retired but she did not. I was glad. I wanted to comfort her, of course, but there was really nothing 1 could do except advise her to go back to England with me.
But how could 1? The decision was hers.
However, here I was in Sydney where I had dreamed of being. I chided myself for almost forgetting the reason why I was here because I was getting myself involved in side issues.
When I was dressed. I knocked at Felicity's door.
She was still in bed. "I've got a headache." she said. "I'll stay in bed a little while. I think."
"You could have something sent up. I'll go down and see about it."
She looked at me appealingly and I thought she was going to say something about changing her mind. I did not prompt her. I believed I must leave her to confide when she wished to.
I went downstairs and asked them to send some coffee and bread and butter up to her, and I sat down and had the same myself. The waiter seemed disappointed that I did not order steaks—which quite a number of people were eating.
When I had finished I asked at the desk if they could give me the address of the Australian Botanical Association and was told without hesitation that it was in George Street.
How could I get there? I asked. Did I need a conveyance? No, I was told, it was only about ten minutes' walk from the hotel.
I was given instructions how to get there. 1 went back to my room hoping that I would not meet either William Granville or Milton Harrington on the way. I did not want to explain my intentions; and now that I was on the trail I was all eagerness to begin.
The morning air was invigorating. It would be hot later I did not doubt. 1 thought about Milton's advice to get big hats to protect us. Our town ones would certainly be inadequate.
Later, I thought. First David Gutheridge.
I found the Botanical Association with the utmost ease. There was a brass plate on the door. I went in. A man at a desk looked at me brightly.
"Good morning," I said. "I wonder if you could help me. I want to get into touch with Mr. David Gutheridge."
He looked puzzled. "1 don't think we have anyone here of that name."
"No, you wouldn't have. He came out from England almost two years ago. He is a botanist and I think he must have been in touch with this office at some time. 1 wonder if you could give me an idea of where 1 might find him."