by Mariska
"I shall also be furious," he said, his smile mocking her innocence. "You have an odd effect on me, Lesley, and I think it is because you are so young and so ridiculously brave."
"Brave?" she echoed incredulously.
"Did you not know it? But you are very brave. At nineteen you brought your sick father to Africa and started farming—tobacco, of all crops! You battled for two years, and you were willing to go on struggling. I respect your father, but I find his obtuseness aggravating. He is fond of you, but he does not realise the half of what you have done for"
"I did it for us both, but I wasn't very successful."
"You accomplished what you set out to do. I believe Mr. Norton is a thoroughly healthy man today. It is time you thought first of yourself, followed your own inclinations. There must be something you wish for more than anything else?"
How to answer this? With the truth? 'Yes, Fernando, there is something I want very much; I want us to be friends, great friends, and not to look too far into the future; that would be enough, for now.' Her spoken reply
was defensively flippant. "Are you asking me to divulge my girlish dreams?"
His laughter came warmly across to her. "No. It is sufficient that you have girlish dreams. Keep them safe; they are precious."
In the silence which followed, it occurred to her, suddenly, that he was no longer taunting her with being attracted to Neville Madison. He and Neville must have been alone together during the past couple of weeks, and it was possible Fernando had put it to his cousin that Lesley Norton was too inexperienced to be used as a means of amusement. He, Fernando, couldn't quite believe her capable of holding her own, and his protective and chivalrous instincts were strongly developed, she knew.
THE silence grew till she felt a little on edge. "It's four o'clock," she
said. "Do you think we can go on waiting for the rain to ease up?"
"I was just considering that," he remarked evenly. "This could continue until midnight. We will have some tea and then go to Amanzi."
"Won't driving be awfully dangerous?"
"You certainly cannot stay here!" he told her sharply.
"I didn't suppose I could," she retorted, nettled. "I was merely wondering if there were some other way."
"There is no other way," he said firmly. He switched on a table lamp and looked at her across the top of it, his face lit up with strange shadows under the brows and nose. "I must go down to the powerhouse to see that the watchboys are vigilant. Through this storm they may have troubles to report. Will you make some tea while I am gone?"
"I'd love to. Don't be long, will you? I mean—" in some confusion—"I'm likely to get anxious and come slithering after you."
With a taut smile he said, "Thank you for the warning. I will lock the door."
He got into an oilskin and thigh-boots, pulled a hat well over his brow and went out. From the window Lesley watched his dark figure slide into the car, and she saw the vehicle go bouncing down over the grass at a speed which brought her heart to her throat. She drew a deep breath and turned towards the kitchen.
She found everything without trouble, except the tray cloth. There was nothing of that kind in the kitchen, and a brainwave took her into the dining-room to search in the linen-drawer of the cabinet. There she found a tray cloth—and also something that set her heart jumping. It was a photograph which slid sideways from between the folds of a supper-cloth; a photograph of Virginia. Lesley pushed in the drawer, clutched the tray cloth and went back to the kitchen.
By the time she had carried the tray to the lounge, Fernando was back and had shed his dripping outer garments. "The rain is not so bad as it looks," he said. "We will waste no time."
By now Lesley was in no mood to linger. She poured his _tea and drank
her own much too hot. She couldn't speak to Fernando, even to answer his questions. When he dropped one of his own raincoats about her shoulders and buttoned it she couldn't bear the feel of his knuckles at her neck. She desired nothing so much as to get away from him, yet she had to have him close, shielding her from the rain as she got into the car, and then sitting beside her as they drove on to the stony, slippery red river of the road.
On higher ground the going was slightly better, and he was able to put on speed. It was a quarter to six when they reached Amanzi, and quite dark. Here he was unable to drive right up to the steps, so he pulled the raincoat she had discarded up and over her head, flung an arm about her and hurried her along the path and up into the porch. He turned the handle of the door and pushed her into the living-room. Both straightened and looked first at Virginia, secondly at the brown-haired young man who stood facing her across the room. In the light of the single lamp he appeared hazily familiar to Lesley, yet she knew she had never seen him before. For the first moment after their entry, Virginia looked pale and glittering, but swiftly her expression changed. She gave Fernando a delighted smile, and then looked at Lesley, her expression sharp with suspicion and warning.
"Father and I were wondering what had happened to you, Lesley. Your bag came over from the Pemberton hours ago." And then, very sweetly, "Good evening, Fernando. How very thoughtful of you to bring my little sister home. May I introduce Mr. Boland? He arrived here only half-an hour ago."
"From England?" Fernando's smile was perfunctory as he greeted the other man.
"Yes," again from Virginia. She held Lesley's glance as if daring contradiction as she added, "He was a friend of ours in England, so when he set foot on African soil one of his first thoughts was to look us up. Lesley, darling, don't stand there staring. You might say hello to Martin. After all, it was really you he came to see."
Lesley was staggered. She gave the stranger the ghost of a smile, felt Fernando's keen glance upon her, and did her best to convey to Mr. Boland, by means of her own blue eyes, a pleading bewilderment. His aquiline features had the closed look of a man who is bearing up under shock. This was some game of Virginia's, and Lesley half-guessed, even in that moment of stress, what her sister hoped to gain by it. But Fernando was quickly dragging his coat from her shoulders and throwing it over his arm, and the atmosphere in his vicinity positively crackled. He bowed stiffly to Mr. Boland and addressed Virginia. "Please explain to your father that Lesley has been in my care today. I am sorry if he was anxious; it was the rain. I must get back to the Falls now."
"Oh, but Fernando! Surely you'll stay for some supper before driving back?"
"It is impossible," he said politely but with curtness. "I wish you all good night."
HIS going left a comparative quietude which was eventually ended by the young man, Martin Boland. "So he's the reason, and you don't care who knows," he said quietly.
Virginia narrowed her eyes at him. "What I do isn't your business, Martin. I didn't ask you to come to Africa, and I'm certainly not inviting you to stay in this house. If you were fool enough to come here without first booking at the hotel, that's your spot of bother, not mine."
"You forget that it was your father who let me in. It was he who suggested I might camp here for the night and move into the hotel tomorrow. However, if I might borrow your car?"
"You can't. It's at the garage, having some adjustments made." "Buenda must be all of ten miles. Do you suggest I walk it?"
Lesley found her voice. "Of course you can't go on to Buenda. Virginia doesn't mean it." She summoned a small smile. "Your arrival here was unexpected, but if you've already met Father you know you're welcome. Do sit down."
Virginia stood between them, straight and lovely, and her eyes were hard as emeralds. If she had spoken, her words would undoubtedly have been unforgivable; but apparently she decided to say nothing she could not retract. With a superb, cold-blooded diplomacy she walked gracefully from the room.
Lesley let out a breath which had been imprisoned too long. She became aware that the short walk up the path had soaked her shoes, and that her head felt as if it were clamped within a steel band. She saw Martin Boland standing there with his li
ps tightly shut with worry and she thought, dully, that here was a problem they would have to solve together; Virginia intended to have no part in it. She sat down, a little woodenly.
"Is it serious, this affair between Virginia and that Spaniard?" Martin asked in his quiet tones.
"It looks as though it might be. It's very hard for you to have to hear this after coming so far."
He lifted his shoulders. "That's the way things happen, isn't it? I didn't come to Africa merely to see Virginia, though I'll admit that she's the reason I took the steps which brought me. You see, I'm a vet."
"Yes, she told me."
"She did?" He brightened momentarily, but went on without much expression, "I had a good practice in the North of England, and among my clients was a racehorse owner. He has connections with a racing club in South Africa, and he knew they were needing a vet. I pulled strings, and here I am."
"Have you given up your practice?" she demanded in horror.
"No, I put in a locum. The practice will suffer a bit, but if I have to go home I'll pull it round."
"Wouldn't you rather keep a general practice than specialise in horses?"
His expression warmed slightly. "Naturally. How nice of you to think
of that. Virginia thinks nothing of doctoring animals as a way to earn a living."
"You're trained. You can't alter your profession."
"I might have a shot at it if I thought it would do any good. My present plans are sketchy. I've taken on this job for three months, with the option of a permanency afterwards."
He talked all the while in muted, even tones, so that it was difficult to know how he really felt. If he hadn't been in love with Virginia he wouldn't have travelled so far to take a post which meant giving up the sort of work he liked best. Lesley had the impression that this was a final throw, that he just wouldn't know what to do if the trip to Africa were abortive. "When do you go south?" she asked.
"I'm due to start on the first of next month, but I shill have to report a few days before that. I have about ten free days." He smiled as if the act of smiling hurt somewhere inside. "I shan't get far in that time."
"I'm afraid you won't, particularly if Virginia insists that you're more my friend than hers."
He nodded, and sighed. "That was a bit thick, wasn't it? Did she do it for the big, handsome chap's benefit?"
The description of Fernando gave Lesley an hysterical desire to giggle, though actually she was nearer ordinary tears. What a hopeless muddle it all was, and merely because Virginia liked to hang on to all the eggs in her basket. Had she been fair to Martin she would have written him as soon as she had met Fernando and discovered it was Fernando she meant to marry. But uncertainty had made her careful. She couldn't be sure of Fernando and neither could she depend on being rich enough to choose a husband wherever she pleased. Lesley contrived an encouraging smile. "It was inconvenient, your being here when Fernando walked in. She said the first thing she thought of, just as any of us would in a tight corner."
"She's lucky in you," he said honestly. "But if you're wise you won't go on letting her do as she likes with you, or you'll have no life of your own at all. I understand Virginia, and she's the only woman I've ever really cared for; that's probably why I let her kick me around."
Lesley's father came in then, and Lesley escaped. In her bedroom she unpacked her case and hung away her dresses. The lamp-glow was fitful, as if the bowl needed filling, and when she mechanically slipped a hand between the sheets of her bed they felt damp to the touch. She opened the window and saw, as she turned back to the table, that a huge, hairy spider had constructed a cord-like web between the corner cupboard and the wall. Solomon, it seemed, had been kept too busy to give daily attention to Lesley's room; he had not even been told to clean it up today.
Dispirited, she changed her shoes, and pulled the blanket and sheds from her bed, then stood back and ran her fingers through her fair curls. Her headache had begun with the photograph of Virginia. There were a dozen explanations for the existence of that portrait in Fernando's dining-room, but the fact remained that it was there, and he must have accepted
it from her. And a man didn't accept a photograph from a woman unless they had reached a degree of intimacy.
Lesley took a despondent look at the hideous great spider in the corner. It hung there like a black threat. Fernando as a brother-in-law. She had never genuinely thought it possible, till now.
CHAPTER V
VIRGINIA went out in the car nearly every day. She often lunched out, but was careful to accept no bachelor invitations to dinner. She attended
the polo and cricket matches, though, and no woman was better turned out. She was seen everywhere that was fashionable, and the other women admired her for her aloofness from the men who obviously wished for closer acquaintance. None of them knew, of course, that the car was as much Lesley's as Virginia's. About Lesley they thought, maternally, she was such a slip of a thing to have taken on Amanzi, and how odd that, having a sister so brilliant and the epitome of feminine good taste, she should prefer to wear the same old jeans and dresses, and to potter about the house.
Martin had slept that stormy night on the Nortons' divan. Next morning he had risen very early, written a brief note of thanks to Mr. Norton and walked out of the house into the dripping, sparkling world of Central Africa. Presumably he had walked to Buenda, for Lesley, on a shopping tour a couple of days later, had met him at the Post Office and learned that he would be at the hotel for a week or so. Lesley couldn't help but regard it as a dreadful pity that Martin should be so shabbily treated by the woman he loved. She had gone her way wondering what it was about Virginia that caught at the emotions of such different men as Fernando del Cuero and Martin Boland.
That Saturday, Virginia went once more to Fernando's house at the Falls. Off-handedly, at the last moment, she murmured that Lesley had been invited too. "When Father and I were there last weekend, Fernando thought it a good idea if all three of us went this week to choose the house. It's unnecessary though. I shall naturally pick the largest."
"I'd like to go with you," Lesley said, in tones gone hard to disguise the hurt. "I can be ready in ten minutes."
"I can't wait as long as that." Virginia took her wrap from a chair and pulled it over the shoulders of her black brocade suit. "You and Fernando don't agree. When he brought you home the other night you were miserable, and he, poor darling, looked utterly bored. Besides, Father won't want to go out at such short notice, and someone has to stay with him."
Still in that forced voice Lesley said, "How do you know Fernando will approve of your going alone to dine with him?"
"Lesley, my sweet, you know nothing whatever about Fernando's habits. Any one of his friends can go to his house on Saturday and be sure of an excellent dinner. In any case, I'm not undiplomatic. You can safely leave me to look after my own affairs."
Which was so true that Lesley said nothing more. She scarcely tasted the dinner she shared with her father that evening, and she was lying wide awake when Virginia came home at midnight. She listened, heard another car give a low hoot, and guessed that Fernando had followed her in his own car, as an escort.
On Sunday Lesley learned that they were moving house the very next day. In her sophisticated fashion Virginia was pleased and excited. "Fernando is going to send us two trucks and some men to handle the furniture. The house is spotless, and so cosy inside. You wouldn't think it was constructed of wood. It's right at the end of the settlement, and ten minutes' walk from -Fernando's house, but I think on the whole that's as well. A little distance will continue to lend enchantment." This needing no elucidation, she went on, "It's going to be fun living there for a few weeks. We'll give a house-warming on Thursday or Friday. You might go up into Buenda tomorrow morning and order all the necessaries."
By the end of the day Lesley had acquired a detached attitude; the mixture of uneasiness and pleasure; of hope and trepidation, had had to make room for practical consider
ations. There were china and glass to be wrapped, house linen and clothes to be packed, carpets to be brushed and rolled, books to be tied into bundles, and a host of other details which crowded everything else into the back of her mind.
There was little time on Monday for regrets. Lesley did spare a few moments to walk among the old fruit trees and down to the log but which had been a curing-shed, but she was curiously without feeling. Once the lorries were loaded, Solomon was instructed to clean through the house and then proceed to the Falls by easy stages with the two horses. The lorries trundled away down the road, Mr. Norton took his seat beside Virginia in the car, and Lesley squashed into the back with the overflow of coats and hats. they moved away, gathered speed, and overtook the two laden vehicles. Lesley did not look back. She was too dry of feeling to care that Amanzi was behind them forever.
Apart from Fernando's house, which was brick and stucco and not really part of the settlement at the Falls, only three had more than the two essential rooms and bathroom and kitchen. These three were available to any man who wished to have his family with him for a spell. The fact that there wasn't a flower in sight proved that no woman had lived for any length of time at the Falls. The house Virginia had chosen was half a mile from the powerhouse. In the still darkness they could hear the Falls, but at any time it was possible to catch the gurgle of the river, which coursed on its way not so very far from Lesley's bedroom window.
There was plenty to do, of course. The windows were fewer than at the farm, but they were also larger, which necessitated the joining together of some of the curtains. The rooms had to be arranged and rearranged, in order to disguise the inadequacy of their furniture, and at the end of the following day Virginia expressed herself satisfied. Lesley was still sleeping on Neville's camp bed, still making do with odd bits of furniture; her little room was monastic in its lack of comfort. If it had not been for the amazing natural beauty of the view from the window, Lesley would have gone there only to sleep. However, after lunch each day, when the house was quiet, she would lean out of that window and watch and listen to the river. Sometimes she caught movements over on the other bank, and once she saw a great sable buck dash away among the growth as if a lion were after him Even on days when no breeze stirred the trees to change the reflections in the river, there was balm in that scene. It was quite difficult to detach herself from it at four o'clock to make tea.
