Stars Over Sarawak by Anne Hampson Read Free Book Online Page A

carrying out his investigations.' Malcolm turned off the road and soon he was parking his car among many others. 'Carl's here,' he observed, indicating a dark blue car some small distance away. 'He said he wasn't sure whether he'd come or not.'
     
     Roanna walked beside Malcolm, lapsing into a thoughtful mood. Dare she ask Carl Denver to make some inquiries among the Natives living along the river? He had advised her to go home, had evinced neither sympathy nor regret at the failure of her efforts to find what had happened to Rolfe. He was not interested, and there was no reason why he should be.
     
     'Ah, Malcolm ...' Carl Denver's voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked up, into the sun-bitten face, the hard face with chiselled lines and a tight-lipped mouth — a mouth of strength and determination revealing the indomitable character of its owner. He was tough, this boss of the oil company, she thought, becoming uncomfortable under the sardonic stare of those deep-set amber eyes. 'You have a companion, I see.' Carl Denver's gaze returned to his colleague's face and the shadow of a smile lifted the corners of the thin mouth. How old was he? wondered Roanna, and made a guess. Thirty-two or three, but he might be a couple of years older. His cynicism had added lines to his features, but his body was lithe and carried not an ounce of surplus weight. It was not difficult to imagine him fearlessly travelling into the primitive jungle of Borneo, meeting every eventuality with cool — and even arrogant — indifference, tackling every problem with calm nerves and a clear swift-thinking mind. Roanna found herself wondering what his wife was like, and what kind of life she had had with a man of Carl's intensely masculine personality. He seemed cut out for men's company, not women's; he seemed totally devoid of any of the more tender emotions that went for success in marriage. A brave man, undoubtedly, and one on whom a woman could rely in any emergency — but most women wanted rather more than this.
     
     'I asked Roanna to come along with me, yes.' Malcolm turned to her as he spoke and a smile crossed his face. 'I've been telling her about your projected trip into the jungle. She considers it to be hazardous in the extreme.'
     
     Carl looked at her, and his powerful shoulders lifted slightly in a careless little shrug, passing off Malcolm's remarks.
     
     'Are you having a bet?' he inquired of Roanna.
     
     'I haven't thought about it.' She felt a trifle awkward and half wished Carl Denver had found himself other company.
     
     'I'll give you a tip,' he offered, surprising her.
     
     'You have one?' from Malcolm. 'This morning you said you hadn't.'
     
     'I've seen the horses since then. Baybur is my choice for the first race.'
     
      Many people were now coming in and Roanna occupied herself by looking round, taking in the gay colours of the clothes and the mingling of the peoples — Chinese, Malays, Sea Dyaks and many others including the Europeans.
     
     'Are you having a bet on Baybur?' asked Malcolm, and she nodded, opening her handbag and extracting the money. It was a small amount and as Carl Denver saw the money change hands he said, a sardonic twist to his voice,
     
     'Cautious, are you? I make a point of never giving a tip unless I'm sure the horse will win.'
     
     Roanna flushed and said,
     
     'I gamble only what I can afford to lose, all the same.'
     
     'Very sensible. Nevertheless, you could have won yourself a princely little sum had you had more faith in my choice.'
     
     He stepped aside then, as if he were no longer interested, and began talking to the man at his elbow — a man who, Roanna surmised, also worked for the oil company. She was left on her own until the return of Malcolm, who had obligingly gone off to place the bets for all three of them.
     
     The race started, and as it was her first experience of a race meeting Roanna became so excited that she was almost dancing