by Anne Hampson
‘You worry too much,’ was his unexpected comment when presently he was sitting beside her. ‘When accidents happen we’re often thrown into situations which can be a little uncomfortable, but in your case the thing to remember is that you are safe and well—other than that ankle, of course—so just relax, forget any embarrassment you might have felt.’
‘You’re very kind,’ she found herself saying. ‘And you’re understanding too.’
‘Kind? Understanding?’ There was no mistaking the undertone of sardonic amusement in his voice. ‘You wouldn’t have reached a conclusion like that if you knew me a little better, Miss Ridgeway.’
As there was nothing she could find to say to this she merely leant back comfortably as the car rolled smoothly along the drive, its windows open to let in the heady perfumes of the garden. The sun was going down behind a line of grassy kopjes and, spellbound, Lena watched the ever-changing colour against the dark screen of the mountains. Already the silent landscape had been transformed from crimson to gold and now as the gold gave way to the dappled shades of twilight the bushveld became a dark impregnable wilderness, shrouded in mystery and indescribably lonely. Kane stopped the car at the end of the drive before turning on to the slightly wider road that led—over a series of dusty potholes—to Mtula Farm. As usual, a sundown breeze had set in from the mountains and as it murmured through the foliage of the trees it filled the clear air with a tenuous, eerie sort of music. Lena heard it, opened her mouth to remark on it, but then, noting the rigid profile of her companion as he started the car again, she kept her fanciful thoughts to herself, convinced that he would ridicule them—if not verbally then mentally.
The bumpy journey took about ten minutes, as Kane drove very gingerly, taking care of his car, which was long and low and practically new.
‘I feel that I’ve put you to a lot of trouble,’ she was saying as he brought the car to a halt outside the front door of Mtula Farm. ‘I’m so very sorry.’
‘Think no more about it.’ He pipped the horn before getting out. The door opened and June stood there, any surprise she evinced being hidden by the swiftly falling shades of night.
‘I want to thank you again,’ began Lena, but was immediately interrupted as Kane said frowningly, and with undisguised impatience,
‘It’s not necessary.’ He was already assisting her from the car, but—obviously considering her feelings now that another person was present—he wasn’t intending to carry her, and for this she sent him a grateful glance, to which there was no response from his rather arrogant countenance. His hands were under her armpits and soon June was exclaiming, asking questions. Kane answered before Lena had the chance of doing so and within a couple of minutes June had been put totally in the picture.
Ten minutes later Kane, having accepted June’s invitation to come into the house, but having declined Gerald’s offer of a drink, left the house.
Much later, after having been helped to her room by Gerald, Lena stood by the window, her gaze directed to where the homestead lights of Koranna Lodge flickered in the enclosing darkness. A strange and indefinable stirring of her senses had occurred at some profound moment between her meeting with Kane Westbrook and their bidding each other goodnight. Unable to pick out anything definite, Lena turned impatiently and hopped over to the bed.
‘A man with his magnetic personality is bound to have an effect on anyone who meets him for the first time,’ she murmured to herself as she settled down beneath the covers. ‘In any case, it was rather embarrassing, having him lift me in and out of the bath. I except that’s the reason why I can’t get him out of my thoughts.’ And, satisfied with this conclusion, Lena turned on her side and almost immediately succumbed to the call of sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
‘It looks as if your ankle is going to be right for the barbecue.’ June spoke as she and Lena sat on the shady back stoep, having an afternoon cup of tea. Gerald was in Fonteinville, having gone to collect a farm implement that had been repaired and also to pick up the mail. Lena had asked him to order her a book and it was only after she had gone that the thought occurred to her that she might have left here before the book arrived, since she surmised it would have to come from England. ‘It seems to be much better.’
‘At least I can hobble about on it now. At first it was so painful that I couldn’t bear to put it on the ground.’ Recollection brought the inevitable flush to her cheeks and June laughed.
‘I’d have given anything to have witnessed the aloof and unemotional Kane Westbrook putting you into the bath!’
Lena’s colour deepened. She reached for her cup and took a drink.
‘It was embarrassing, I can assure you. But I did have the towel wrapped all around me, as I told you.’
June laughed again.
‘I wonder what his thoughts were? You know, he’s had a few affairs in his time. He’s having one now, as a matter of fact.’
‘He is?’ Lena glanced swiftly at her across the table, aware of a sudden curiosity to know more about Kane’s affair. This curiosity puzzled her, since she was not in the least interested in the amorous activities of Kane Westbrook. All the interest she had in him constituted gratitude for what he had done for her.
Looking back now she had no doubts at all that he had saved her life, since, once she had been carried from that bank into deeper waters that were increasing both in volume and velocity, there would have been no chance at all of her escaping the fate of drowning. Lena would have wished to thank him again, when she and he met at the barbecue, but, convinced that nothing would annoy him more than a reintroduction of the incident, she resigned herself to the idea of not mentioning it again—ever. Thinking about her experience now, she gave a shudder and her friend said quickly,
‘Don’t think about what might have happened, Lena. Just let the whole thing be remembered as a lesson.’
‘It’ll certainly be that,’ returned Lena feelingly. ‘I’ll never again so much as step off the bank.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Kane has a boat which, at certain times of the year when the Klein Umgola is carrying sufficient water but isn’t a torrent, he sails. We’ve been on it a couple of times and I assure you it was fun. He might ask us all again and if he does he’ll be bound to invite you as well.’
Allowing this to pass without comment, Lena reverted to the subject of Kane’s girl-friend.
‘You were saying that he’s having an affair…?’
‘Yes. A Mr Davenham came over from England a year ago and began farming. About a couple of months ago his niece, Magda, arrived and decided to stay. She has no parents and as she was living quite alone she saw no reason for going back—especially as she had met the devastatingly attractive Kane Westbrook, and fallen for him like a ton of bricks.’
‘She had?’ Lena’s eyes were pensively fixed on the two boys working together in the mealies. In the far distance, conical-shaped against the clear limpid sky, could be discerned the native village in which they lived, with their wives and piccanins. ‘What’s she like?’
‘Beautiful, in the ash-blonde, peach-bloom skin sort of way. She’s supposed to be working for—or with—her uncle, but each time I’ve seen her she’s looked as if she had just got herself ready to attend a wedding!’
Instinctively Lena glanced down at her hands; already they were giving evidence of her interest in the garden.
‘She doesn’t sound cut out for work on a farm,’ she said at length. And June immediately shook her head, a gesture of agreement.
‘More cut out to lead the lady’s life, I should say.’
‘Where did she and Kane meet?’ Again Lena was asking herself the reason for her curiosity. It was totally out of character, as anyone who knew her would without hesitation have declared.
‘At the Impala Club in Fonteinville. You’ll be going there quite soon.’
‘I will?’
June nodded.
‘They have dinner-dances once a month. If your ankle’s all right we
shall book for a fortnight tonight. Everyone goes, and it’ll be nice for you that you’ve already met some of them at Kane’s barbecue.’
‘Do you dress up?’
‘Of course—it’s an excuse to don all your finery, and your jewels,’ added June with a laugh.
Lena thought of this girl, Magda, and wondered what sort of ‘finery’ she possessed.
June was frowning in thought and suddenly she said,
‘You know, Lena, it’s just dawned on me that this affair with Magda might be serious. After all, Koranna Lodge does need a mistress, and who better than Magda? She’s both intelligent and decorative—all Kane would want in a wife.’
‘All?’ in some considerable surprise. ‘A man usually desires much more than those things.’
‘Not Kane,’ with firm conviction. ‘He and Magda are very suited, simply because they’re so much alike.’ Picking up her cup, June took a drink, her eyes wandering to the row of dome palms which had suddenly begun swaying as the breeze freshened. It was going to rain, decided Lena, following the direction of her gaze and murmuring, in response to what June had said,
‘They are?’
‘Undoubtedly. You’ve met Kane, so you know how totally unemotional he is. Well, Magda’s as cold as charity, too. Yes… come to think of it, Kane could very well be serious with her. She’s got what it takes in looks—with that glorious hair and delicate skin and eyes that know what they’re there for.’
‘Eyes that…?’ Lena threw her an interrogating glance and, laughing, June said humorously,
‘She can use them most effectively when there are men around—But why should I try to explain? You’ll realize what I mean when you see her antics at the barbecue!’
‘You don’t appear to like her very much.’ Lena was frowning inwardly; she could not have said why,’ but the idea of Kane’s marrying someone who was of an unattractive disposition was more than a little disturbing to her.
‘Frankly, I don’t—but it could be envy,’ confessed June, a humorous gleam in her eyes. A short while later she went off to do some household chores, flatly refusing to allow Lena to help her. She must rest that ankle, she ordered in her usual forceful manner. But, once she had gone, Lena proceeded to the garden to finish some weeding she had begun that morning, a task that had proved to be comparatively easy, since Lena could do it on her knees.
The evening of the barbecue arrived and although her ankle was still bandaged for support, it was not giving Lena any pain, and therefore she was no longer walking with a pronounced limp.
‘What are you wearing?’ June asked the question just as Lena was going up to her room to wash and change. ‘These events are informal, yet you don’t feel you’ve done wrong if you decide to dress up. I’ve been to a barbecue in a long dress, but I’ve also been to one in jeans.’
‘I look such a scrag in jeans these days.’
‘You’re filling out—gradually,’ laughed June, her green eyes roving Lena’s figure. ‘My cooking, of course!’
‘It is, too,’ returned Lena sincerely. ‘Sometimes I can’t believe my good fortune in coming here and living like a lady of leisure.’
‘Come off it! Don’t you deceive yourself that I haven’t been observing you, buzzing off quietly and getting on with your gardening!’
Lena laughed then and said,
‘I love it! It’s so easy to grow things—’
‘Not for me. I always forget to water the darned plants.’
‘I’ve ordered some roses from Fonteinville.’ Lena paused, looking a trifle doubtfully at her friend. ‘You don’t mind my putting things in?’
‘I’m delighted. I’d love to have a garden that looked something like Kane’s.’
‘From what little I saw it would appear that he’s spent a great deal of money on his gardens?’
June nodded, but went on to say that many of the flowering trees and shrubs had been put there by his grandfather.
‘He was lucky, inheriting that gorgeous place, and it’ll be a lucky girl who becomes mistress of it—if ever a girl does become mistress of it, that is.’
While they were talking Lena had been making a cursory examination of the clothes in her wardrobe. She took out a long dress in brushed nylon but, shaking her head, returned it to the rail.
‘I think I’ll wear jeans and a shirt, after all,’ she said.
‘I’m wearing my new trouser suit. It’s thin, and sort of eveningy without being formal.’
Lena wished she had something like that; however, she did have a pair of well-cut white jeans and with those she wore a coral-coloured sweater with a high, roll-over collar. Her hair, newly washed, and fast becoming more healthy, shone when she brushed it, and her eyes shone also. But her face was still thin, and her cheeks pale. She applied the blusher, and a little colour to her lips, eventually satisfying herself that she had done just about all she could in the way of making herself look attractive. Subconsciously, she had wished all along to make a good impression on the people she would meet at the barbecue. Once, she had been a popular member of the club in her town; her friends had been many. But soon after her father’s marriage she had found herself with so many chores to do when she came home from the office in the evenings that her social life had practically ceased even before the tragic deaths of her father and stepmother had resulted in the total responsibility of the children being thrust upon her.
Twilight came down soon after Gerald and June and Lena arrived at Koranna Lodge. Kane, incredibly tall and arresting in a white tropical suit which contrasted most attractively with the tawny bronze of his face and hands, was there to greet them. His eyes rested for a moment on Lena’s face; she could not help flushing as she remembered with painful clarity his putting her into the bath and taking her out after she had bathed and rinsed her hair. Was he amused? His lips seemed to twitch slightly, but there was no reflection of humour in the hard stare he gave her. His greeting, too, was crisp. However, this meeting was as her first meeting with him should have been—free from annoyance on his part and from embarrassment on hers.
‘How’s the ankle?’ he asked with the politeness which as a gentleman he should exhibit, but he was distant for all that.
‘Much better, thank you, Mr Westbrook. I didn’t consult a doc tor.’
He merely nodded his head, then turned to say something to Gerald about a couple of heifers which Gerald had bought from a man recommended by Kane.
More guests arrived; Kane greeted them courteously enough, but very noticeable indeed was that aloofness mentioned by June and which Lena herself had observed. Yet, standing some way away after she had been introduced to these new arrivals, Lena was rather surprised to discover that Kane was not averse to chatting with his guests if they themselves were that way inclined.
‘He’s not spontaneously hail-fellow-well-met,’ laughed June when Lena remarked on her observations, ‘but he has a way of setting everyone totally at his or her ease and then displaying that requisite degree of politeness which makes the perfect host. You’ll enjoy yourself tonight—and so will everyone else. Kane’s barbecues and dinner-parties are always something to look forward to, and I know of no one who, having been sent an invitation, wouldn’t be disappointed should anything occur that prevented them from attending.’
‘He’s decidedly attractive,’ mused Lena, her eyes still fixed on his face. Illumination had been arranged in the trees, illumination of many colours; he stood beneath the long line of yellow lights which had been fitted among the passion vines shading the terrace, and every classical line of his impressive features was revealed. The low forehead, the cheekbones prominent and high, which created the impression of angularity; the hollows below them, the strongly defined jawline and firm chin… Lena’s eyes moved to his grey ones, noting the dark, metallic light in them. His hair, waving and long enough to cover his ears, was light brown… and for no reason at all Lena’s mind gave forth a picture of the man she had imagined marrying. Tall and dark and handsome. Da
rk… she liked jet black hair best of all in a man; it had character and strength. And yet, as she looked at Kane’s hair, shining beneath the lights, she decided she would never see a man with hair more attractive than his.
What musings! She cast them off and when June suggested they wander around the grounds Lena was only to eager to agree. That man was altogether too magnetic; he could draw without even knowing that he did it.
The moon was full, yellow and incredibly large. It shone down on the garden which Lena saw, even by this limited illumination, was a veritable paradise of beauty. Down through the years nothing had been spared by way of expense. Hibiscus abounded, and allamandas with their glossy green leaves forming an enchanting framework for the velvety golden bells which Lena had heard described as ‘solified sunshine’. Poincianas whose scarlet long-clawed petal blossoms measured three or four inches across and at a certain stage of their growth resembled orchids; frangipani whose enchantment included fragrance as well as the sheer beauty of its waxy white and crimson blossoms. Passion flowers and anthuriums, the sweet aloes and bird of paradise.
Lena’s appreciative eyes shone with the wonderment of it all. She felt that nowhere could there be a garden to excel this.
‘I’m breathless with it all!’ she exclaimed when at length they were wandering back towards the lights and the chatter of people. Gentle unobtrusive strains of music came from some obscure place to mingle with the sound of cicadas’ wings rubbing together in the darkness. ‘Kane must be exceedingly proud of his home.’
‘He’s a proud man altogether. I suppose he has a right to be, owning a mansion like this, set in such incredibly beautiful grounds. I love coming here, as you can well imagine.’
Lena nodded her head, her eye catching Kane’s tall figure as he moved among his guests. He strode towards the two girls, smiled faintly as he invited them to take drinks on the terrace.
‘I’ve been showing Lena round your gardens, Kane. She’s thrilled with them—as I am myself.’
