by Anne Hampson
‘What time would you like me to come tomorrow, Mr Westbrook?’
‘I shall be free to show you around any time after three. Until then I shall be busy supervising some land-clearing I’m having done.’
‘I’ll come along at about half-past three, then?’
‘Fine.’ A silence followed; Lena felt an unaccountable prickling of her spine and instinctively turned her head, peering into the darkness of the woods behind her. All was silent except for the cicadas—and the soft strains of the music coming from the direction of the house.
‘Is—is anyone there?’ she whispered nervously. ‘I know it’s silly, but I sensed the presence of someone, in the woods behind us.’
Kane merely laughed and assured her that no one would be hiding in the woods.
Much later Lena was alone admiring a bed of canna flowers, when, without warning, Magda came up beside her. Lena jumped, a spark of anger showing in her eyes because of the furtive manner of the girl’s approach. ‘She must have known it would startle me,’ whispered Lena to herself.
‘Do you mind if I join you?’ asked Magda pleasantly. ‘Kane’s such a stickler for etiquette and all the other niceties which characterize the perfect host that I find myself alone on occasions. I thought it would be pleasant to get to know you.’
Again Lena sensed the insincerity, but she could not put that forward as an excuse for snubbing the girl. And so she gave her a smile and said,
‘Shall we sit down, then—over there, by the fountain?’
‘That would be nice.’ Magda led the way, just as if she were the hostess caring for the comfort of one of her guests, thought Lena, who followed, wondering what she and Magda would find to talk about. ‘What made you decide to come over to South Africa for a holiday?’ asked Magda without preamble. ‘I mean—the fare’s quite costly.’
‘My friends were over in England, visiting relatives. I decided to come back with them.’
‘And you don’t know how long you’re staying?’
‘I have no idea how long I’m staying.’ Lena hoped the coolness in her voice was escaping Magda, though she rather thought the girl must have noticed it, since it was so pronounced.
‘I—er—have heard that you’re coming over here—to Koranna Lodge—tomorrow afternoon?’
Lena’s senses became alert. She inquired curiously,
‘How do you know? Did Mr Westbrook tell you?’
The girl hesitated, seeming to have difficulty in finding suitable words.
‘N-no…’ Another pause. ‘I happened to overhear you and him talking.’
Lena’s eyes wandered over to the north edge of the garden, to where she and Kane were sitting at the time she had sensed a presence in the woods behind her.
‘When we were over on that seat?’ She gestured with her hand. ‘You were in the woods?’ She turned, so that she could see the girl full-face, but Magda also turned her head and Lena was left looking at her profile.
‘Yes,’ admitted the girl at last. ‘I was strolling by at the time.’
‘By… or in the woods?’
At the tone in Lena’s voice the girl turned sharply and snapped,
‘That note of contempt in your voice, Miss Ridgeway! What exactly does it mean?’
Pausing in indecision, Lena at last replied,
‘I had an idea that someone was in the woods behind us—’
‘You’re insinuating that I was listening to you and Kane! Oh, how dare you! I shall complain to him—’
‘Miss Sanborn,’ broke in Lena with some asperity, ‘you’re jumping to conclusions. I didn’t insinuate anything!’
What a situation! Here she was, almost quarrelling with a girl who was a stranger to her!
‘Yes, you did! I’m absolutely sure of it!’
Lena gave an impatient sigh.
‘In that case, Miss Sanborn, there’s nothing I can do to disabuse you, is there?’
Silence. Magda had assumed an injured expression and with a shrug Lena rose to her feet and walked away, no doubt at all in her mind that Magda had deliberately eavesdropped, standing there in the darkness of the woods and listening to the conversation going on between Kane Westbrook and herself.
CHAPTER FOUR
There was no doubt, thought Lena, that Kane’s garden was a kaleidoscope of colour, aflame as it was with tropical splendour. Having met her as she came along his drive, he had spent over an hour showing her around the grounds. Five minutes ago one of his house-boys had come to tell him that he had a visitor, and with a polite word of excuse and apology he had left her to wander alone until his return. She stood, in rapt meditation, wondering what the land was like when, after clearing the bush, Kane’s grandfather had begun his programme of planting. She glanced up at the magnificent oak trees, their branches soaring in luxuriant height against the clear brittle sky. Dome palms waved their spidery plumes, stirred by the lazy air currents travelling in from the south-east; mahogany trees, cypresses, cedars and eucalyptus… so many mature trees to form backcloths for the more ornamental kind—the flamboyants and poinsettias, the South African tulip trees, the frangipanis and bougainvillaeas. Her wandering gaze found beds of golden irises which were interspersed with beds of allamandas and canna flowers; it moved to the fountain, which sprayed into an ornamental pond on which grew the giant African water lilies.
Yes, she mused, this was a paradise in miniature, created because of a man’s will to produce something of sheer undiluted beauty. She looked across to where the windmills, silhouetted against the sky, turned in the breeze. Artesian water, Lena had soon learned, was one of South Africa’s greatest blessings. No matter how dry the veld, or how long a drought might continue, there was always an abundance of water underneath the ground; in consequence there were always windmills on the skyline; erected by farmers over boreholes, they provided all the water that was required. Many dorps depended entirely on artesian water, Gerald had once told Lena.
‘At a few feet down you can get water—brackish, it’s true, but water for all that,’ Gerald had said when on one occasion Lena had been asking about the problem of water in this hot and arid country. ‘Drill to a hundred feet or more and you can be fairly sure of clear water.’
‘I’m sorry I had to leave you.’ Lena twisted her head as Kane returned. It was just a little business I had to attend to.’
‘That’s all right,’ she smiled. ‘I’ve been enjoying every single moment of it.’
‘I’m relieved,’ he said with that familiar edge of cool politeness to his voice. ‘Well, I believe you’ve seen just about everything. Do you have time to come into the house for some refreshment?’
She nodded, although hesitantly, for it seemed wrong, somehow, to show too much eagerness.
‘Thank you very much.’
They strolled back to the house, traversing gravel paths bordered by flowering shrubs in which insects murmured. A black and gold butterfly moth fluttered in front of Lena, so close that she could have reached out a hand and caught it; a couple of redwings swooped, then rose again into the perfume-laden air, and disappeared among the trees. The velvet lawn spread away towards the house; Kane and Lena crossed it, passing massive specimen trees standing in splendid isolation, bright-plumaged birds chittering in their branches, exotic flowers blooming at the bases of their trunks.
‘We’ll have our refreshments on the stoep; it’s always cooler there.’ Lena nodded in agreement. After the bright flood of noonday sunshine, when the veld had shimmered under its brittle heat, the afternoon had become close and oppressive, but now a faint breeze drifted in from the mountains to cool the stoep which had already been protected from the sun’s rays by the trellised vines that had been trained up its sides and which completely covered its roof. ‘What would you like to drink?’ Having brought out a chair for her, Kane stood aside while she took possession of it.
’Something cool, please—an iced lemonade or something similar.’ She was awkward again and it vexed her, for during the
past hour or so she had managed very well to carry on a conversation with him, never once feeling overpowered either by his magnetic personality or by his cool impersonal manner of speech.
He went away; she twisted her head to watch his incredibly tall straight figure as he stepped from the stoep into the room beyond. What a pleasant afternoon it had been, strolling about the beautiful grounds of Koranna Lodge… with its handsome aristocratic owner. Contentment had been Lena’s predominant motif, her senses responding to the solitude and static silence of the limitless bushveld, her nostrils filled with the admixture of flower perfumes and the pungent, resinous smell of the Aleppo pines growing in the vast forest owned by Kane. She looked down the valley, aware that he possessed every inch of it. To the north of the valley was the impressive majesty of the mountains, to the west and south the lush green of the farmlands and to the east the line of kopjes, dark and gaunt against the sky.
Kane returned and a smile fluttered to Lena’s lips. Kane stood for a moment, his grey metallic eyes inscrutable. No smile rose to his mouth in response to hers. How unapproachable he was!
‘Liesel will be out with the drinks directly,’ he told her in that cool impersonal tone to which she had become used. ‘We’ll not waste too much time over our drinks as it’s going to rain. I’d better take you home in the car.’ He was glancing at the sky as he spoke. Lena herself had been in Africa long enough to be able to read the signs. The rain of which he spoke would in all probability be accompanied by thunder and lightning.
Liesel appeared, a slender, doe-eyed native girl with a hesitant smile. She said in excellent English,
‘Your drinks, Mr Westbrook.’
‘Thank you.’ The gracious edge to his tone was pronounced; it brought response in the deepening of the girl’s smile. Putting down the iced fruit drinks, which were served in hand engraved lead-crystal tumblers, she went away.
‘Are you seriously wanting to transform Gerald’s garden?’ inquired Kane after a small silence. ‘If so, I must let you have some plants and cuttings. Let me know what you would like.’
Lena glanced swiftly at him, astounded at the offer.
‘That’s most kind of you. I am trying to improve the garden, and June’s given me a free hand, but I’m not an expert and I wouldn’t know what would grow in that particular type of soil.’
‘The soil’s exactly like mine, so anything you’ve seen here will grow at Mtula Farm.’ Kane twirled his glass and she heard the ice tinkle against the side. ‘The garden at Mtula Farm is rather well placed for improvement, having the terraces and the large flat area that could be made into a level and very attractive lawn.’ He became thoughtful, spcculatively observing the small vortex he was creating in his glass. ‘Yes, the garden there certainly has potential.’
Lena’s eyes lighted up; Kane’s words were a challenge which fired her with the urge to produce something beautiful out of the present nondescript gardens surrounding the Van de Merwes homestead.
‘Would you—advise me about how to begin?’ she asked, rather hesitantly because it did dawn on her that her request might not be welcomed by Kane, busy as he always was with the running of his own vast estate. But she need not have worried; he was more than willing to give her all the advice she might ask of him, he informed her graciously. ‘Thank you,’ she returned with a smile. ‘I shall become quite excited about the project.’
Faintly he smiled, his grey eyes holding hers for a while before slowly moving over the rest of her face. She lowered her lashes, uncomfortable under his observation, for she felt sure that, pale and thin as her face was, he must be branding her colourless and unattractive in comparison to the dazzling Magda Sanborn.
‘The transformation you’re obviously intending to bring about will take some time,’ he warned at length. ‘You’re prepared for that?’
She found herself hesitating, disturbed by the uncertainty of the length of her stay at Mtula Farm.
‘How long, Mr Westbrook?’ she inquired at last.
‘A few months. It’s true that here, so long as you are free with your use of water—and fortunately, Gerald has plenty of it—things grow quickly. However, this growth speed doesn’t happen to be the chief consideration with a garden that’s been neglected. You’ll have a great deal of clearing of weeds to do; also there’ll be some digging.’ He paused, thoughtfully twisting his glass again. ‘And if you decide to have a lawn then there’ll be both the digging and the levelling—these in addition to the initial clearance of weeds, that is.’
‘I see.’ Lena frowned in thought. ‘I don’t know how long I shall be staying, that’s the difficulty.’
He seemed surprised by this statement.
‘Gerald gave me to understand that your stay would be a prolonged one.’
‘Both he and June have said, more than once, that I can stay as long as I like. But—’ She stopped for a moment, thinking she had heard the distant sound of thunder. ‘I’d like to stay indefinitely,’ she added presently, sending him a wry smile, ‘but it wouldn’t be practicable unless I could get a job.’
‘No, I suppose not. However, I take it that your stay will in fact be of sufficient length to enable you to do some work on the garden?’ Before she could answer he had added, ‘It’ll be a pity if you yourself are not going to be able to enjoy the results of all your work.’
‘I don’t mind that. The actual creation of something beautiful will be reward enough.’
‘I like your attitude,’ he returned, with such promptitude that it was undoubtedly a sincere compliment, and Lena, her whole mind attuned to the new emotions which had emerged within her, flushed daintily as a surge of sheer pleasure swept through her whole body. What was happening to her? she wondered, staring studiously at her glass, aware that she must avoid the disconcerting gaze of Kane’s dark, metallic eyes.
He spoke at length, saying that they had better be on their way.
‘We’ll discuss your requirements when I come over to Mtula Farm the day after tomorrow,’ he went on, adding that he was coming over at the invitation of Gerald, who had asked for some advice on what crops to grow on the two new fields which he had just acquired, fields which had been unused for so long that they had almost reverted back to the original bush. ‘Drink up, Miss Ridgeway,’ said Kane, looking at her glass. ‘We’ll have to make haste if we’re to miss the storm.’
He went to fetch the car; this being so reminiscent of that other occasion when he had gone to fetch the car in order to take her home it was inevitable that in a flood of memory it should all come back to her—the falling into the water, Kane’s strong arms outstretched as he hauled her to safety, his imperious manner when stating that she must have a hot bath. Then all that followed… his lifting her into the bath, then taking her out again. Looking back now, Lena vividly recalled that feeling of unreality. The same sensation was upon her at this moment, as she waited on the stoep, the air sultry and ominous around her, for the sound of Kane’s car, the engine starting, the revving up, the gliding movement before the car crunched to a standstill in front of her. Profoundly conscious of emotions that had already been stirred on two occasions, Lena became tensed as the deep silence of waiting continued. Subconsciously she was aware of a background to the silence—the chittering sound of cicadas in the trees.
Sundown was already advancing as she stepped into the car; soon the brief eastern twilight would enshroud the fields, and add regality to the distant massif, clothing its majestic crags with several shades of purple. Suddenly, just as Kane was about to start the car rolling along the drive, the air became still and a strange, eerie radiance shed its glow over the garden and the house and the farm buildings in the distance. The conical outline of the native village took on the aspect of something of mystic origin. Within seconds a primeval silence hung over the entire landscape. Great black cumulo-nimbus clouds rolled across the sky, and the eerie radiance gave way to a deep, impenetrable gloom. Turning her head, Lena spoke, remarking on the dramatic change in t
he atmosphere; she felt she ought to have whispered, so profoundly conscious was she of the hush that surrounded her and Kane.
‘I’m not sure whether or not to wait—’ Kane’s voice, edged with uncertainty, was abruptly cut short as a vivid flash of lightning lit the sky, to be followed by a clap of thunder, prelude to the downpour that was to come. ‘We’ll go back inside,’ he said without further hesitation. ‘It’ll probably not last too long.’
They had just entered the house when the rain came, pouring down like a waterfall.
‘It’s always so sudden here,’ commented Lena when they were in the long, low-windowed living-room. ‘You don’t get much warning.’ She looked at Kane from her comfortable place on the sofa, her limpid eyes shining in a way they had not shone for some considerable time.
‘You look happy,’ commented Kane unexpectedly as he sat down. ‘You’re obviously having a most enjoyable time with your friends.’
‘It is rather wonderful,’ she agreed enthusiastically. ‘Life’s suddenly become an exciting experience.’
Kane’s eyes opened wide at the manner of her phrasing.
‘Because of your appreciation of the miracle of nature, I think?’ Grave his tones; with a flash of insight Lena realized that Kane also was a profound lover of all that prodigal nature could provide.
‘Mostly because of my appreciation of all that’s around me,’ she agreed. ‘Added to this is the peace and comfort of June’s home.’
He nodded his head thoughtfully.
‘June’s done a great deal to improve Mtula Farm. She’s a real homemaker.’ He was still thoughtful; Lena could not help thinking of Magda, and wondering if Kane were debating on whether or not she would prove to be a homemaker.
