Welcome to Paradise by Jill Tahourdin Page A

beginning to enjoy it,” she said. “Do you like flying, Richard?”
    “Love it.” He had his B license, he told her. He was a member of the new flying club at Edward.
    “I’d like to take you up one day,” he said.
    “Oh, please do,” she said, glowing. Then bit her lip. She had forgotten that she wouldn’t be there.
    She was quiet after that till the airliner touched down. As it taxied towards the air terminal she thought, suddenly panic-stricken, This is it.
    She was wearing her suit of green jersey because Bernard had always liked her in green. The little angora cap hugged her head and her angora topcoat was hung over her arm. Richard walked beside her, tall, very well turned out in his town suit of mid-grey. He gave her elbow a squeeze and said softly, “Chin up, Alix.”
    She said rapidly, “I’ve changed my mind. I’d like to meet Bernard alone. We’ll see you later, in the reception hall. Do you mind, Richard?”
    “No, I don’t mind.”
    She was scanning the crowd behind the barriers with eager, frightened eyes. Someone waved—someone with rough hair and very blue eyes, dressed in khaki bush shirt and shorts and carrying a broad-brimmed hat. Bernard. Her heart tripped at sight of him. She waved back. Then she was swallowed into the Incoming Passengers section, and it was some minutes before the formalities were completed and she was free. Free to join Bernard ...
    A moment later she was in his arms, enveloped in the well-remembered bear-like hug. He was kissing her, and she was sniffing the familiar odour of the shaving lotion he had always used. She said breathlessly, “Bernard! How are you? How lovely to see you again.”
    He held her off and looked at her. His kisses, she noticed, had been on her cheeks, not on her lips.
    “You naughty girl, giving me so little notice of your arrival,” he said, mock-severe. “It was just luck that Sandra went in to the Post Office and cleared the box yesterday. They don’t deliver telegrams in these wild parts—didn’t you know?”
    She saw that he had filled out, looked older, more mature. Just as she had expected he might. She said gaily, “No, I didn’t know. But since you got my cable, it doesn’t matter, does it? It’s all right, isn’t it?—that I came?”
    “Of course. Bit of a surprise, though. I hadn’t expected you quite so soon.”
    “But you don’t mind?”
    Was there a touch of impatience in his voice as he replied?
    “No, I don’t mind.”
    “Where am I to stay, Bernard?” She was nervous still. She didn’t feel at home with him yet. Nor, she could see, did he with her. Perhaps it was natural after their long parting.
    “Stay? Why, with the Barretts, of course. They’re looking forward to having you. Where, in heaven’s name, did you think?”
    “I—didn’t know.”
    She could see Richard striding across the reception hall, making for the door. Wasn’t he coming to meet Bernard, as he had promised? Richard, wait, her heart cried. But he had already gone outside.
    Bernard was saying, “I’d better see about your luggage. We’ve got the car outside. It’s a station wagon, so there’ll be tons of room for your stuff.”
    We? she was wondering; while aloud she said, with her delicious chuckling laugh, “I’ve got only two air - cases. You won’t need tons of room for my luggage, darling.”
    It had come out with difficulty, that darling. What’s the matter with me? she wondered impatiently. Why do I feel so miserably shy with him? Why is he so shy with me?
    He took her by the arm as they left the building. That’s better, she thought, and smiled up at him.
    “Is it far to the Barretts’ farm?” she asked.
    “Sixteen miles. Look, there’s the car.”
    The station wagon was a big fawn-coloured one. There was a girl at the wheel. And standing talking to her was Richard. Of course, he had known Sandra well; been “rather smitten” once.
    Bernard said, “Come and meet Sandra, Alix.”
    He had dropped her arm in