because he winced
perceptibly as he turned his head slightly to return her scrutiny.
She said, 'You're Philip Hughes, aren't you?'
There was a pause, then his lips twisted into an apologetic smile.
'You tell me,' he said ruefully. 'Apparently I've taken some kind of
knock, which means I can't remember a damned thing. I haven't a
clue who I am or what's been happening to me.'
'Oh, no,' Charlie wailed. 'You don't—you can't mean it.'
'I'm afraid I do.' He frowned. 'And, although it's important to me, I
can't quite understand why it should matter to you so much.'
'Do you know where you are?'
'I've been told. Apparently this place is the homestead of a rubber
plantation, belonging to the guy who's been mopping me up and
giving me injections over the past few days.' He paused. 'Only I
gather he's Brazilian, and you're obviously English.'
Charlie nodded. 'This is why I needed to talk to you—to make sure.
You see, I'm being held here against my will.'
Philip Hughes shifted against his banked-up pillows, his frown
deepening. 'You're putting me on.'
'I'm not, I swear it.' Charlie beat a clenched fist into the palm of her
other hand. 'You have to believe me. I ended up here completely by
accident, and now the owner, Riago da Santana, won't let me leave.'
'Why not?'
'I'd really rather not go into that.' Charlie bit her lip. 'You'll just have
to take my word for it— and also for the fact that you really are
Philip Hughes.'
He ate another spoonful of soup. 'What makes you think so?'
'I know—knew your aunt. She talked about you—showed me
photographs.'
There was a silence, then he said, 'I notice you use the past tense.'
'Yes, I'm afraid so.' Charlie hesitated. 'I—I'm terribly sorry.'
'How did you know her?'
'I worked for this domestic agency in England. She was one of my
clients.' Charlie felt sudden tears prickling at the back of her eyes.
'She was a lovely lady, and very kind to me.'
'I don't doubt it,' he said, after another silence. 'But I'm afraid, even
if she is—was—my aunt, she's just another gap in my memory. It—
it doesn't seem to mean a great deal at all. Nothing does.'
'And yet you can remember Portuguese.'
He looked at her sharply. 'What do you mean?'
'When I came in you asked me who I was,' she pointed out.
'Did I?' He looked thoughtful. 'Well, maybe that's the first chink of
light in the darkness, because I haven't understood one word that big
woman's been gabbling at me. Luckily, the boss man speaks perfect
English, or I'd be totally floundering.'
'Yes, I suppose so.' Disappointment was almost choking her.
'Apparently there's a medical mission at a place called Laragosa,'
Philip Hughes went on. 'This Santana guy says they'll bring in a
doctor to have a look at me as soon as the river falls sufficiently.'
Charlie winced. 'Did he say how soon that might be?'
Philip Hughes reflected. 'I believe he said amanha —whatever that
means.'
'It's the Brazilian word for tomorrow—or any day over the next year
or two,' Charlie said bitterly. 'I used to hear it a lot on the journey
upriver.' She paused. 'I thought, you see, that you'd be leaving as
soon as you were well enough.'
'That's exactly what I want to do, naturally, but they're hardly going
to let me wander off, suffering from amnesia.' His smile was boyish
and charming. 'Are you that keen to be rid of me?'
'I want to go with you,' she said baldly.
He gave her a startled look. 'Well, I'm flattered, of course, Miss... ?'
'Graham,' she supplied. 'Charlotte Graham.'
'OK, so we're introduced, but that doesn't mean we should elope.'
'I don't mean that either,' Charlie said impatiently. 'But I have to get
away from here, and you could help me.'
'In ordinary circumstances, perhaps, but as things are...' He spread
his hands deprecatingly, then paused, his glance going past Charlie
towards the door.
Charlie knew by his expression what she would see when she
turned.
Riago was standing in the doorway,
perceptibly as he turned his head slightly to return her scrutiny.
She said, 'You're Philip Hughes, aren't you?'
There was a pause, then his lips twisted into an apologetic smile.
'You tell me,' he said ruefully. 'Apparently I've taken some kind of
knock, which means I can't remember a damned thing. I haven't a
clue who I am or what's been happening to me.'
'Oh, no,' Charlie wailed. 'You don't—you can't mean it.'
'I'm afraid I do.' He frowned. 'And, although it's important to me, I
can't quite understand why it should matter to you so much.'
'Do you know where you are?'
'I've been told. Apparently this place is the homestead of a rubber
plantation, belonging to the guy who's been mopping me up and
giving me injections over the past few days.' He paused. 'Only I
gather he's Brazilian, and you're obviously English.'
Charlie nodded. 'This is why I needed to talk to you—to make sure.
You see, I'm being held here against my will.'
Philip Hughes shifted against his banked-up pillows, his frown
deepening. 'You're putting me on.'
'I'm not, I swear it.' Charlie beat a clenched fist into the palm of her
other hand. 'You have to believe me. I ended up here completely by
accident, and now the owner, Riago da Santana, won't let me leave.'
'Why not?'
'I'd really rather not go into that.' Charlie bit her lip. 'You'll just have
to take my word for it— and also for the fact that you really are
Philip Hughes.'
He ate another spoonful of soup. 'What makes you think so?'
'I know—knew your aunt. She talked about you—showed me
photographs.'
There was a silence, then he said, 'I notice you use the past tense.'
'Yes, I'm afraid so.' Charlie hesitated. 'I—I'm terribly sorry.'
'How did you know her?'
'I worked for this domestic agency in England. She was one of my
clients.' Charlie felt sudden tears prickling at the back of her eyes.
'She was a lovely lady, and very kind to me.'
'I don't doubt it,' he said, after another silence. 'But I'm afraid, even
if she is—was—my aunt, she's just another gap in my memory. It—
it doesn't seem to mean a great deal at all. Nothing does.'
'And yet you can remember Portuguese.'
He looked at her sharply. 'What do you mean?'
'When I came in you asked me who I was,' she pointed out.
'Did I?' He looked thoughtful. 'Well, maybe that's the first chink of
light in the darkness, because I haven't understood one word that big
woman's been gabbling at me. Luckily, the boss man speaks perfect
English, or I'd be totally floundering.'
'Yes, I suppose so.' Disappointment was almost choking her.
'Apparently there's a medical mission at a place called Laragosa,'
Philip Hughes went on. 'This Santana guy says they'll bring in a
doctor to have a look at me as soon as the river falls sufficiently.'
Charlie winced. 'Did he say how soon that might be?'
Philip Hughes reflected. 'I believe he said amanha —whatever that
means.'
'It's the Brazilian word for tomorrow—or any day over the next year
or two,' Charlie said bitterly. 'I used to hear it a lot on the journey
upriver.' She paused. 'I thought, you see, that you'd be leaving as
soon as you were well enough.'
'That's exactly what I want to do, naturally, but they're hardly going
to let me wander off, suffering from amnesia.' His smile was boyish
and charming. 'Are you that keen to be rid of me?'
'I want to go with you,' she said baldly.
He gave her a startled look. 'Well, I'm flattered, of course, Miss... ?'
'Graham,' she supplied. 'Charlotte Graham.'
'OK, so we're introduced, but that doesn't mean we should elope.'
'I don't mean that either,' Charlie said impatiently. 'But I have to get
away from here, and you could help me.'
'In ordinary circumstances, perhaps, but as things are...' He spread
his hands deprecatingly, then paused, his glance going past Charlie
towards the door.
Charlie knew by his expression what she would see when she
turned.
Riago was standing in the doorway,
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