Dennis Wheatley - They Found Atlantis

Every one in the island at the present time was on tenterhooks to know if a certain Esteban Manillo, who dwelt in a sleepy old-fashioned Spanish town would have secured the job he was after and be able to marry his Juanita, or if her loathsome stepfather would throw her out of the house while Esteban was still penniless—and the latest moves in half a dozen other life dramas which various members of the community would be able to report upon after their next visit to the upper world.

Doctor Tisch spent most of his time happily discussing a thousand problems with Menes whom the McKay had christened the Admiral. The Doctor had also started a collection of botanical specimens—presumably for his own satisfaction for they would never be shown to anyone except the people who already knew them so well.

Axel and Lulluma had become inseparable and spent every waking moment in each other's company, apparently in a kind of blissful dream state. The others employed themselves more actively with their work, loves, and hobbies.

Only Nicky failed to find contentment in this Paradise and he became more moody and irritable as the days wore on. He had fallen a victim to one of those wild unreasoning passions common to such natures and its object was Rahossis.

If she had treated him harshly from the beginning he might not have taken it so badly, but she had been extremely kind. On those first two nights of feasting she had, on each occasion, become just mildly and happily tipsy on Tokay—or Nektar as the Atlanteans preferred to call it. She had been intrigued a little by his strangeness too and flattered by his unconcealed admiration, therefore she had shown no hesitation whatever in abandoning herself to his embraces and more, returned them with all the ardour suggested by her Titian hair.

Having twice tasted of these joys Nicky, somewhat naturally, expected their continuance, so he was surprised and hurt when Rahossis proceeded to treat his further advances with the utmost casualness once the feasts were over.

Worse, she showed a decided preference for the impish and amusing Quet and it was quite evident that a serious affair was boiling up between them.

Nicky attempted facetious gaiety, prowled, sulked and postured, but all in vain. Rahossis treated him with the same friendliness she showed the others but simply could not be induced to favour him again with any special interest.

Whenever he did succeed in catching her alone she was always busy on some small task which, she declared, could not be put aside at the moment, and daily these frustrations were adding fuel to Nicky's passion.

It was in the early evening after work, but while there was still an hour to go before the nightly meal that, just a week after Sally's wedding, he at last found Rahossis alone and unoccupied, seated on the grass in front of her apartment.

'I suppose as soon as I sit down you'll find you've got to get up and do something?' he said with heavy sarcasm.

Rahossis looked surprised. 'No,' she said, 'I have nothing to do at the moment if you wish to talk to me.'

Nicky sat down, put his chin on his knees; and muttered moodily: 'Why are you so horrid to me now?'

Rahossis laughed indulgently. 'I am not horrid to you. Be sensible my dear and you will become as happy as all the others here.'

'Happy!' he exclaimed. 'How can I be happy when you don't take any interest in me?'

'What is there to interest me in you?' she said lightly. 'You seem like a rather spoilt child to me.' Then, because to give pain was quite contrary to her Atlantean nature she added quickly: 'I did not mean that, it is I who am too old now to appreciate your youth. Tell me your life story; I should like to hear it.'

Nicky was pacified at once. He loved talking about Nicky Costello and plunged into the completely fictitious autobiography that he knew so well; having forgotten already his confession of his true origin made to his friends in the bathysphere when they all thought they were going to die.

'I was rather a cute little chap I believe,' he began modestly, 'mop of golden curls you know and big eyes. Everyone used to turn and look at me in the streets. My father was in Real Estate, an ordinary middle class business man—and ma was just a sweet homely woman. It's all owing to her influence that I am what I am today. She kept me straight as a lad.'

'With exercises?' asked Rahossis brightening. 'Perhaps you can show us some new ones?'

Nicky compressed his lips. 'No, not exercises—prayers!' he replied in a faintly superior and snubbing tone.

'Oh—I'm sorry,' apologised Rahossis meekly.

'I was never any good at my books,' he continued with the gay laugh which reporters like to hear. 'I'm afraid I wore the dunce's cap many times and was my bottom sore?'

'Was it?' asked Rahossis with polite interest.

This time he ignored the interruption; 'My poor old father lost all his money one fine day and there was the family on the rocks—Nicky told them not to worry and got a job as an errand boy to a theatrical costumiers. Yes folks! You can all see what's coming. But stop a minute—father got ill, then mother got ill and little Nicky did his job by day and looked after the old folks, who had given him their lives, by night. Well—it's no use dwelling on unhappiness— there's enough of that in this little world—the old folks got better but meanwhile Nicky had walked into the Film Studios one day and asked for a part. There was a nerve you'll say—well something had to be done. No one can support three people on the few dimes I got for being an errand boy.

'The casting director helped me out of his office with the toe of his boot, although he has to listen to me now, then little Nicky lost his way in the passages of that vast palace of sets and dressing-rooms and quite by accident he found himself in the back of one of the Caravans they were using for a big film for the new Juvenile Star—a kid called Coral Pacific.

'When she trundled on to the set Nicky hops on to the box and she catches sight of him—she was a passionate little creature and spoilt then—though she's got over all that now. "Plumok," she yells at her director, "I want that boy in my scene instead of that scrubby little hobo you tried out yesterday." She knew good stuff when she saw it.

'Then they discovered my voice,' Nicky announced impressively. He always treated his voice as if it had been asecond American Continent though the role of Columbus varied according to the public he was appealing to at the time. 'They were amazed. Such a perfect crooning voice had never been heard before—and then of course 1 had to do my training—hard work there—at it all day, and studying all night to get through college. No one can say that film stars don't work for their living. But it is all worth it if we can give the great generous public even an hour's relief from the problems which beset them—a little laughter makes life easier, and all the world loves a lover if the stuff is put over with genuine feeling and discretion—no hot stuff about Nicky Costello's films. Keep it clean was my old mother's motto and it still hangs over my bed.'

'That reminds me,' said Rahossis.

'What of?'he asked.

'To put an extra cushion on your bed—you seemed to be tossing about so uncomfortably when I walked past you early this morning.'

Nicky did not consider that his poignant history of suffering and victory had been received with enough applause. 'I wish my mother had known you,' he said.

'I wish I had known here,' Rahossis replied politely. 'We should have been about the same age.'

'Good God! Don't keep reminding me of that!' he exclaimed furiously. Then he glanced quickly at his companion's lovely face. He had just thought of a plan to interest her.