by Mariska
His manner hurt something deep inside her. "Perhaps I will," she said defensively.
"You are childish and stubborn. You make it very difficult for me to be nice to you."
"I don't want your niceness." Tears welled into her voice, and in quelling them she sounded hard. "I only wish . . ."
"Yes? What do you wish?"
Her voice cracked completely, but she managed to keep her face averted so that he should see no trace of tears. "That you were ordinary and human, and an unbiased judge of other people," she burst out. "You never will be
that, though, because the only qualities you admire are those which fall into some pattern of your own."
"You are up too early, and I never cross swords before breakfast," he said with cold mockery.
"You never cross swords at all," she said bitterly. "You can get your own way without that." To which she tacked on one of those statements which are nearly impossible to retract. "I don't think I've ever disliked anyone so thoroughly in my whole life!
CHAPTER IV
IN the middle of the following week, Lesley put her suitcase into the back of Bill Pemberton's car, wished her father and sister au revoir,
and went off to spend a week or two at Grey Ridge. For Lesley's sake her father had been happy to see her go. The house at Grey Ridge was less than four miles away, but the atmosphere there in the midst of a prosperous tea plantation was so different from that at Amanzi that he thought she could not help but benefit from the change.
The weather was hot and unsettled. Clouds rolled in from the mountains, and though there was not much rain in Buenda itself, the higher parts of the district were known to have had many hours each day of torrential downpour. The Kalindi was well above its normal level for this time of the year, and it was said that the Falls were now at their most vaporous and beautiful—or they would have been if the authorities had not chosen to harness them. But there were other, if lesser, waterfalls in the neighbourhood, and Anna arranged a picnic near the chief of them which ran strongly down to swell the Great Falls of Kalindi. The Pembertons kept a canoe at the Little Falls because Bill was constantly smitten with an urge to fish, but it was too dangerous just now to use it.
Lesley's days at Grey Ridge slid by peacefully. The place was known as 'Open House' and when the news got round that Lesley Norton was a guest there the local bachelor farmers came even more often.
"They're after you, Lesley," said Anna tolerantly one morning. "I'm afraid it's natural in some men to marry for love but to love where money is."
"There's no money where I am," Lesley answered lazily from the canvas swing. "You might tell them that and see what happens."
The older woman looked up from her letter-writing at the veranda table. "Are you serious? Hasn't your father made separate provision for you?"
"What no one seems to understand is that he hasn't much money yet. It was a cheap little farm, if you remember, and no mineral valuation will be made till Neville is back on the job. The sale of the half-share was a windfall which paid off everything and made my father feel secure, but we can't afford to be extravagant."
or three vacant houses at the settlement, and Virginia has been invited to select one of them."
Lesley's hands were cold and damp; her knees were clamped tightly together to still their trembling. "That can't be so," she whispered. "Virginia didn't mention a word about it in her letter."
"Does she ever divulge her plans?" His mouth went down at the corners in an expression of complete dislike. "She accepted Fernando's offer unconditionally. They had great fun fixing a nominal rent your father will have to pay."
"How do you know all this?" she inquired thinly.
"Because I was there," he told her sourly. "The whole thing was arranged when Virginia and your father came to the Falls for dinner last Saturday."
For a very long moment Lesley was wordless. So Virginia had visited the house at the Falls. She had wandered through Fernando's rooms, dined with him, and flattered him with her interest in his home. In that endless moment the hurt was almost too much to bear. "It will be strange, living at the Falls," she managed jerkily. "I don't think I shall like it."
His arm came companionably across her back. "Cheer up. It'll come to an end sometime, when the financial side is clear. Then your father will build the house he wants."
Dogged, in spite of her pain, she said, "It may not be good for him to live at the Falls. It's at least a thousand feet lower than Buenda."
"Fernando mentioned that. He's arranged for your father to have a check-up by the construction company's doctor, a very good man who's recently come out from England."
"It sounds as if your cousin is very anxious to have my sister living near him," she commented.
His shoulders lifted. "Fernando does do a great deal from the goodness of his heart, but I'm sure he'd think twice before taking a couple of women to the settlement. Being his friends you're safe, of course—from the predatory male, I mean." He withdrew his arm and pressed the starter. "What he thinks of Virginia is anybody's guess, but what she thinks of him is a little more obvious. Allowing for the fact t she's entirely mistress of her moods and fancies, I'd say she's fallen hard for our Fernando."
Neville drove on, keeping parallel with the river and eventually leaving the road to the Falls to follow a narrower track which led to the native township. There were no other cars in sight, and at last they sped round a bend on a hillside which gave them a long view over the surrounding countryside. Low mountains and grassy lands, maize and yams at the harvesting stage, groups of thatched huts with sisal plants about them, aloes sprouting their trees of orange and white flowers, and streams of African people in bright clothes wending towards a huge area where the elephant grass had been shorn and a thatch roof on poles erected to shelter the guests from the African sun.
Neville parked at the end of the line of cars. They must have been almost the last arrivals, for all the seats had been taken. Unerringly Lesley
picked out Fernando, and with a throb of relief she saw that his companions were men. He had not invited Virginia.
"I'll bribe someone to find us a couple of chairs," Neville said. "Stay here where it's cool. I won't be long."
She nodded, and stood very still in the shade of the redwood, watching the scene. When she looked back at Fernando's chair it was empty. Oh, heavens, he'd seen her. Her impulse was to escape. But when a tall, distinguished man is striding determinedly in one's direction, and other people can see him doing it, self-discipline demands that one holds one's ground and smiles as if this is indeed a happy meeting.
BUENOS DIAS!" he said very pleasantly. "You will answer me in
Spanish, no?" She obliged with a catch in her breath and he laughed at her accent. "I presume Neville brought you here. He had no right to, of course, because he has no official connection with the Buenda district; he should not really be here himself. However, we do not quarrel about such things." A pause. "I hope you are feeling much brighter after your stay at Grey Ridge?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Good." A critical glance at her features. He nodded, and gave her a charming smile. "You do not look so pale and angry as the girl who disliked me more than anyone she had ever met! Your vehemence that morning almost convinced me!"
"But afterwards your ego decided for you that it couldn't be true!"
He laughed again briefly. "I forgive you, because once or twice I, too, have disliked you." He shrugged. "It is unavoidable, I think, that people like you and me should sometimes distrust one another. There is always distrust where understanding is lacking, and we are agreed, are we not, that we do not understand each other?"
He was mocking at her in a charming way, and she recalled, with a tiny shock, his terse coolness the last time she had seen him, after the night he had spent with Neville at the hut. Something had gone right for him since then, and her mind instantly leapt to the likeliest solution. But still, her heart reiterated, he hadn't invited Virginia here
this morning.
"It's not really important, is it?" she said, more to gain time than to extend the discussion.
"Perhaps not," he conceded, thereby unaccountably vexing her a little. He looked up at the hazing sky. "I believe I hear the drone of a plane. We must take our seats."
"Neville has gone to find chairs for us," she told him hastily.
"He will be unsuccessful. Already there are too many people for the seating accommodation. Come with me, Lesley. I will send a message after Neville."
She had no option but to obey. The people who were seated in an arc at the side of the cropped field had naturally been watching the two under the trees, because there was so little else to hold the attention, and it would have appeared extremely odd to them had Fernando left her standing there without an escort.
"If you'll make sure that Neville knows where I am," she murmured, and allowed him to use a gentle pressure at her back and lead her to his chair.
The increasing noise of an approaching plane, carrying the Government officials, drew everyone's attention. The plane circled once more, below the haze this time, then came in smoothly to land. The engines were stilled, the drums beat their tattoo of welcome, and the tribal chief, a youngish man in a well-cut European suit, came forward from the place he had occupied with his people to join the Commissioner at the foot of the steps which had been placed near the plane.
It was all very formal. Four men in white drill suits descended from the plane. There was much shaking of hands and bowing, and then the group of six moved over to take their seats under the palm-thatch awning for the real greeting.
A sudden concerted yell announced a bevy of dancers. They sprang into motion, and writhed and leaped their way to the expanse of grass in front of the awning, where they proceeded to stamp and throw up their arms in an abandon of absolute joy. The recent rains proved a boon in so far as they had ensured that today's audience would not be choked by the dust raised by the stamping. The dancers glistened with sweat, but were tireless. The haze thickened into a sultry pall. The sun had vanished, and gradually the breeze died. A few stared apprehensively about them, at the strange darkness which was coming up behind the low mountains, but none dared move till given the signal. At least, one dared. Neville came to them from the stool he had occupied at the end of the row. "We're going to have a shower," he remarked. "My tyres are worn flat and they don't grip on a dry road, let alone a soggy one. I think I'll get back to Buenda. Had enough, Lesley?"
Fernando said, "You may safely leave Lesley with me. I will take her home. It is wise for you to go now. Apart from the danger of that car of yours on wet roads, it would do you no good to catch a chill. I will expect you at the Falls at the weekend."
Neville lifted his shoulders at Lesley. "Sorry," he said with his tired grin. "You'll have to bear it." With a "So long!" which included them both, he sauntered away.
Fernando looked speculatively at Lesley, and she returned him a glance both annoyed and amused. Bother him; he knew she was half-afraid of being left to his mercies. She wished she could think of something sophisticated to say. All she could do was tilt her chin as if nothing mattered, though the abnormal beating of her pulses proved otherwise.
It was only ten minutes before they left, but by that time white lightning
was cutting between the clefts in the hills, accompanied by rolling thunder. Drops of rain splashed the windscreen, but the storm still seemed reluctant to get under way.
"Nevertheless, we are going to have a good rain," said Fernando, after Lesley had voiced a remark to that effect. "Also, it is very late for lunch. At what time will your father expect you home?"
"We didn't arrange anything, but I dare say we'll find you something to eat."
"He will not worry if there is a storm and you are not there?"
"No, he'll think I stayed on with Anna. He didn't know I was coming here today." She looked out anxiously at the blackening sky rent by those white flashes of lightning. "Don't you think we'll beat the worst of the rain?"
"It is impossible and you must certainly have food." His tone was even as he went on, "You and I are always on the verge of exchanging strong words and the remedy for that is to learn more about each other. I will take you to my house for lunch. The houseboy has a holiday, so we shall have to prepare the meal together. Over eggs and bacon we will have some conversation."
Lesley's cheeks had gone hot, but she contrived a smile. "Without a duenna?"
"Without a duenna," he stated, that smiling glitter in his eyes. "We could not talk about ourselves with a duenna present!"
"You'll be disappointed. There is very little to learn about me."
"You mean there is only reserve under the reserved exterior?" he asked banteringly. "I refuse to believe it. Look," he nodded ahead, "we are coming within sight of the Falls."
It was raining faster now. Big globules banged on to the roof of the car, and the path they travelled was already dark red with moisture. Lesley saw the new powerhouse, and the settlement on the hillside. Between the two stood a square white house, unfenced and without a flower about it. The car shot up the incline behind the powerhouse and stopped at the foot of the veranda steps. Strangely excited, she waited till he had come round to open her door, then she stepped out to be hurried into the lounge of Fernando's house.
"I SUGGEST we heat a tin of soup and make a macaroni cheese," said Fernando. "Eggs and bacon would be much quicker and easier."
"We are in no hurry," he shrugged good humouredly, taking a dish of cooked macaroni from the refrigerator, "and neither do we take the easy path, you and I. You will heat the soup and I will make the macaroni cheese."
"Shouldn't it be the other way about?"
"No," he said decisively. But he was' endearingly charming. Gravely he pointed out the row of tinned soups in a cupboard and let her make a choice. He opened the tin and left her to empty the concentrated contents into a saucepan and thin it down with milk.
Stirring gently, she watched him prepare the macaroni cheese. For a man who never lived without servants his movements were deft and certain.
Curiously she asked, "Fernando, where did you learn to cook?"
"At Cambridge, in my student days. I was eternally hungry, so I bought one of those table-model electric ovens and experimented." He took a look into her saucepan and added conspiratorially, "I will admit to you a secret; though. Macaroni cheese and toasted sandwiches were the only things I ever mastered! Come. While this stuff is cooking I will show you the house."
It was odd, thought Lesley, how you could walk into a house and know it didn't belong to an Englishman. This one was constructed on the usual lines of European dwellings in Africa, and she had often seen dead-white interior walls in other houses. But she had never seen another house furnished just like this one. All the essentials were there, but perhaps it was the Spanish vases and pictures which gave the atmosphere of foreignness. A grey tweed divan suite in the lounge, tomato-red rugs on the polished floor, a desk, and a couple of kidney-shaped tables; in the bedrooms were the usual suites with mid-blue curtains and bed-covers, and cream rugs. And the dining-room .. .
"How lovely!" she exclaimed. "I've never seen stools instead of dining-chairs before."
He smiled and ran a hand over the carved, X-shaped legs of the stools. "It is an old custom from my country. A craftsman of San Feliz made these for me and they travel well. The two dining-chairs with arms for Mama and Papa, and four stools for the children. He was very sad when I said four stools would be enough! Come, let us find mats and cutlery for the table."
It was a delicious meal, accompanied by a fine Malaga wine, and the fruit and coffee with which it ended were just right. Rain slashed down outside and thunder still rolled, but within the house it was cool and somehow remote from the angry elements.
In the lounge he had guided her into a chair and himself taken the corner of the divan nearest her, and for a minute or two they drank a second cup of (toffee in peace, and looked
out through the French window at the grey curtain of rain.
Presently he asked a point-blank question. "Why are you less happy since the beryl was found at Amanzi? I know the reasons you have put forward—that mining is soulless, that you do not want easy money—but there is something deeper, which you have not told. What is it?"
"Well, it leaves me with nothing to do," she said simply. "Are you sure that is all?"
"I think so. I've always been busy, and while you're busy you feel wanted."
"But, my dear child, I can assure you that you are very much wanted," he said, concerned. "When your father came here last weekend, he said how he missed you. Then there is your sister."
"I meant needed," Lesley put in quickly. "My father and I had such good times while we were farming and I think we'd have gone on being happy if we'd sold Amanzi outright and built the bungalow in Buenda which was then the apex of our ambition. I dare say with a little persistence I could even have got some sort of job."
"And you think that would be life, working for someone and keeping house for your father?" he demanded, a new, crisp note in his voice.
"It doesn't sound too bad to me."
"Then you are something of a fool, Lesley! Your ambition is drab and unworthy. I thought better of you."
His vehemence brought her half round to face him. "I know it's modest, but on the whole I'm a modest person, and I've learned not to hanker for anything that's out of reach."
"Marriage is not out of reach!"
"No, but . . ." She hesitated, and gave her attention once more to the wall of rain beyond the veranda. "One doesn't reckon on marrying until there's someone who . . . who makes one think about it."
"And is there no man," he persisted inexorably, "who has ever fluttered that timid heart of yours—made you wonder whether there is not a great deal you would like to learn, with him?"
This direct approach brought colour to her cheeks. She lowered her glance and said, with as much demureness as she could muster, "One of these days I must tell you all about the affairs I've had. You'll be surprised."
