by Anne Hampson
‘Better to waste them than to look—’ He stopped, frowning heavily. Lena knew that he was going to say ‘a dowd’.
‘I’ll think about it,’ she promised.
Kane hesitated, as if considering whether or not to comment on that. His mouth was set, severe and grim. His eyes were thoughtful, and a frown had settled between them. He seemed to give a small sigh, and Lena had the strange conviction that he was fighting something within him. He seemed tensed; Lena felt she could very easily have caught his mood.
‘I’ll be off,’ he said, taking the reins from the branch on which he had placed them.
‘Your horse is beautiful.’ Lena patted his flank. ‘What’s he called?’
‘Chieftain.’
‘An apt name for an African horse.’
‘He’s not an African horse.’
‘You know what I mean.’
He laughed then, and the tenseness that threatened to increase between them was gone.
‘Yes, Lena, I do know what you mean.’ His voice had softened and so had his eyes. ‘Shall I see you at the Club dance on Saturday?’
‘Yes, of course.’ If only her heart would not behave so abnormally! Yet how could it be otherwise, when she loved him, and knew that he would dance with her?
‘Do you ride?’ he asked unexpectedly.
‘I did when I was small, but I haven’t ridden for years.’
‘Supposing I lend you a pony?’
‘You would?’ She stared disbelievingly. ‘Really, Kane?’
‘Really,’ he answered in some amusement.
‘Oh… I’d love that.’
‘I’ve a quiet bay mare who’ll be just the thing for you. She’s a rather charming animal with no vices at all.’
Rather charming… It was a description she would never have expected to come from Kane’s lips.
‘I’m sure I shall like her.’
‘Come over tomorrow morning and you can try her out.’
‘Thank you very much.’ She watched him swing on to Chieftain’s back and ride away. She was still standing there when, on reaching the end of the path, he turned. She lilted her hand in response to his wave, then she went back to her sewing.
‘I’ve no heart in this,’ she was telling June a short while later.
‘You haven’t? But you were quite enthusiastic at first, saying you were making such a good job of it.’ She paused, expecting Lena to say something. ‘What’s made you change your mind?’ she queried at length.
‘Kane says that these are not my colours.’
June’s green eyes opened very wide indeed.
‘He did? And why should he be so interested in what you wear?’
The implication was plain. Lena, vexed with herself for the outspokenness in letting her friend know of Kane’s disapproval of the colours she had chosen, endeavoured to pass the whole thing off lightly by saying,
‘It was just in the course of casual conversation. He asked what colours I had chosen for my dresses. When I told him he said that neither brown nor dark blue would suit me.’
June’s gaze was both odd and disconcerting. Lena found herself colouring.
‘Is he going to see you in those dresses?’ Automatically June lifted the front panel of a skirt. ‘It seems to me,’ she continued before Lena had the chance to speak, ‘that our austere neighbour is becoming mightily interested in you.’ She wagged a finger warningly. ‘Watch out for Magda’s wrath, my pet. There’s a rumour floating around that she means to have him. If she suspects you of competing with her there’s no knowing what mischief she might do to you.’ Although there was a note of banter in June’s voice, and a twinkle in her eyes, Lena guessed that she was quite serious in what she was saying about the glamorous Magda.
‘She has nothing to fear from me,’ protested Lena, using accents which she hoped would sound carelessly indifferent. June must never know that she had been stupid enough to fall in love with Kane. Life here would become unbearable if she did. ‘Kane wouldn’t even look at a girl like me.’
‘You won a beauty competition once,’ June reminded her.
‘That was when I was young.’
‘Of course it was—grandma!’
Lena laughed, then frowned immediately afterwards as her eyes fell on the skirt panel which June was still holding.
‘These materials were quite expensive,’ she remarked with a sigh. ‘I don’t like the idea of wasting them.’
‘Bought for service rather than enhancement. I’d carry on if I were you… unless, of course, you’re keenly desirous of pleasing Kane,’ June added slowly, her gaze fixed examiningly on Lena’s softly flushed countenance.
Lena’s frown deepened.
‘I’m not in the least desirous of pleasing Kane,’ she returned shortly. ‘There’s not the slightest reason why I should be.’
But, as soon as June had left the room, she began folding up the materials and, putting them into a brown paper bag, she went to her room and tossed the bag on to the topmost shelf of her wardrobe.
***
The pony, called Something Special, was a dream. Lena, clad in a polo-necked cotton sweater and light green denims, stood waiting excitedly as one of Kane’s hoys, having already saddled the horse, brought it from the paddock and handed it over to Kane.
‘Just imagine her being called “Something Special”.’ Lena turned spontaneously to Kane. ‘Who bestowed on her a name like that?’ she wanted to know.
Kane gave a rather deprecating shrug of his shoulders.
‘I’m afraid I did,’ he admitted.
‘For some good reason, obviously.’ The pony was standing between her and Kane; she patted its neck and it at once nuzzled against her shoulder.
‘Of course. When you’ve ridden her you’ll understand that she really is something special. I’m glad you’re having her,’ he went on, ‘because she’s never had a permanent rider since I bought her. Jennifer rides her now and then, but she prefers Phantom; she gets a more gay and lively ride from him.’ Kane was preparing to help Lena up; she was hesitant, profoundly conscious of not having ridden for so long a time. However, once in the saddle she felt quite comfortable, and safe.
Accompanied by Kane, she rode carefully but confidently, and long before they returned to Koranna Lodge Kane was congratulating her on her handling of the mount.
They rode out from the vicinity of the paddock, past a trellis of shady vines, to where Kane’s boys were busy in the fields, their shirts and hats strikingly bizarre against the green lushness of the lucerne.
‘It’s wonderful!’ Lena exclaimed as she cantered easily on the pony’s back. ‘This time yesterday I never imagined I’d be riding like this twenty-four hours later!’
‘I’m glad you’re enjoying it,’ briefly as Kane, narrowing his eyes against the sun, scanned the flourishing farmlands through which they were riding, keeping to a path that was in far better condition than the public road running between Koranna Lodge and Mtula Farm. ‘We’ll go this way,’ he said, breaking the long silence that had fallen between them. ‘But let me know when you begin to feel tired. I don’t want to take you too far on your first day.’
First day… This suggested an intention on his part of accompanying her again. What would Magda think of this? Lena was asking herself when presently they were out on the veld itself, entering the loneliness and timeless intimacy of a terrain dotted, as far as the azure horizon, by millions of stunted thorn bushes. The ground beneath them was brown and parched; this, and the breeze-spurred movement of the bushes, gave the impression of the veld floating away into the distant haze, through which could just be discerned the purple-shadowed line of kopjes.
‘The breeze is nice.’ She spoke to break the silence. ‘I feel so—exhilarated!’ She could have raced across the veld, her hair flying in a shower of russet glory behind her, but she had the strong conviction that so venturesome a move on her part would instantly bring from Kane the stern injunction that she take her riding slowly at first
.
‘I should have lent you the pony sooner,’ he said.
‘It’s most kind of you to have offered, Kane.’ Turning her head, she gave him a lovely smile. ‘Thank you very much.’
‘It’s a pleasure, Lena,’ was his quiet rejoinder.
The silence fell between them again, but now, with her mind involved with the scene around her, Lena had no desire to speak. The silence between Kane and herself was a companionable one; she was profoundly aware of this, and she felt sure that Kane was also affected by it.
The sun rose higher; the veld seemed to rise and become suspended in mid-air as it touched the quivering sides of mirage hills.
‘Unreal…’ She murmured the word aloud, but softly, so that Kane would not hear. Why was time spent with him so often shrouded in unreality?
‘We’ll return along the river,’ decided Kane. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve been as far upstream as this?’
Lena shook her head, loath to return, yet aware that to suggest they carry on would not meet with Kane’s approval.
‘I’ve been meaning to travel upstream, but as yet I haven’t had the time.’
‘You’re in for a pleasant surprise; there’s a most enchanting spot up here.’
The place mentioned lay among an extensive clump of trees which formed an outlier to his forest. It was a pretty cut-off lake—a one-time meander in the river which, before being separated from the main stream, had cut back into the rocky hill behind it, exposing a natural spring that now fell from a bare rock cliff, in a quivering cascade of clear crystal water, into the rock basin beneath.
‘It’s… fantastic,’ breathed Lena as, having dismounted, she stood against her pony, staring in almost ecstatic wonderment at the breathtaking spectacle formed by the rainbow of colours of the waterfall and the quiet sunlit pool overhung with exotic drooping foliage enlaced by a tangle of creepers and pendulous plants which took on the aspect of wires and pipes and twisted hawsers. Yet from this sub-tropical smother there emerged victorious an army of exotic flowers of every conceivable hue—delicate pinks and creamy-whites; crimsons and blues and sun-polished gold. A butterfly hovered, its blue-green wings iridescent, caught as they were by sunbeams filtering through the foliage of the trees, sunbeams that, on touching the stream, broke into a thousand reflections and transformed the pebbles on the river-bed into multicoloured, semi-precious stones.
‘I thought you’d like it?’
Kane looked at her with a strange expression, his dark metallic eyes roving her figure before returning to her face.
‘I find something quite magnetic about this particular spot. I come to it often.’ Looping the reins over the bare dead branches of a tree, he walked to the edge of the pool, bending his tall body in an endeavour to avoid having his hair caught in the creepers which ran from tree to tree. After a moment of indecision Lena followed. She wanted to ask about this magical place… wanted to know if he had ever brought Magda here. Joining him at the water’s edge, she sought for words, eventually saying, in her soft attractive voice,
‘Do many people know of this place?’ A bird called from somewhere above, before swooping down, almost in front of Kane’s head. Lena noticed the blood-red colour on the underside of its wings, the long tail and slightly curved beak; the plumage on its breast shimmered in the sunlight.
‘You’re the first person I’ve brought here,’ he answered, and for a long moment the only sound was that of the waterfall’s tender music as it cascaded down the rocks.
‘I… I feel greatly honoured, Kane,’ she murmured, a catch of emotion in her voice.
Again the silence fell between them, and a tenseness which even the faraway scream of a monkey could not dispel. Kane turned at last, from his deep contemplation of the pool’s clear depths. Lena saw that his expression was veiled.
‘It’s the sort of place one doesn’t have any desire to show off,’ he said.
‘That’s rather strange, because it’s so beautiful—and—sort of—sacred.’
His head came round; he glanced oddly at her.
‘Is that how you see it, Lena?’
She nodded. There was no mistaking the emphasis on the ‘you’, but she suspected he had not meant her to hear it. It told her without any doubt that he too saw this place as something sacred… but she knew instinctively that he would not admit it—at least, not to her. She experienced again the sensation that Kane was fighting something within himself; he seemed remote, as if determined to keep some measure of distance between himself and Lena. It was the most odd impression, and an incomprehensible one as well.
‘Yes, that’s how I see it,’ she replied, her eyes following three small, dark-blue butterflies as they hovered above the rim of the pool.
What she expected in response to her answer she did not know, but she was totally unprepared for the abrupt way he turned, unlooped the reins, and said brusquely that it was time they were getting back.
On their arrival at Mtula Farm he merely stayed long enough to say good morning to June and Gerald, to remark casually to Lena that he would see her at the Club dance, and then he was gone.
‘Have a nice ride?’ asked June, falling into step beside Lena as she walked towards the enclosure prepared by Gerald the previous day, after Lena had informed him about Kane’s lending her the pony.
‘Yes, lovely, thanks.’ Flushed and windswept from her ride, Lena smiled at her friend, feeling it was useless to attempt to hide her pleasure from June. ‘Kane said the pony was something special, and she is. She has a delightful temperament; I’m sure a young child could handle her.’ Patting the horse as she said this, Lena could not help wishing that it were hers, for the wrench would be far from pleasant when the time came for her to part with it.
‘Added to this temperament she has the looks and movement of a show pony,’ observed June, who had once done show jumping.
‘Kane did say that she jumps remarkably well—quite fearlessly and with a most superior style.’
June nodded; she was looking at Lena now, not the pony.
‘I can’t get over Kane—taking this interest in you,’ she said bluntly. ‘I can’t find the reason, no matter how I try.’
Piqued, which was not unnatural, Lena could not resist saying,
‘You’re not very complimentary, June!’
‘You’ve said yourself that he’d never look at you in that light.’
‘That’s true.’ Suddenly Lena felt a sharp catch of dejection; it seemed to block her throat, making speech impossible. She turned away from June, leading the pony rather quickly towards the temporary paddock in which it would be kept until proper accommodation could be made for it. Hendrik, who had been watching Lena from the cover of some bushes from under which he was pulling out the weeds that had sprung up after the previous night’s thunderstorm, approached her and offered to unharness the pony.
‘Thanks, Hendrik,’ she smiled.
‘I like horses. I would like to care for this one.’
‘Then you shall—providing you don’t neglect the garden in order to do it.’
‘No, I shall find time to do both jobs,’ he promised, and went off, beaming all over his face, to attend to the pony’s requirements.
***
The dance at the Impala Club was rather different from usual; of the people present two were celebrating birthdays, and a couple were celebrating their fifth wedding anniversary. And so the air of gaiety was increased, and there was an atmosphere of frivolous abandon in a setting of music and lights, good wines and delicious food. Magda, more glamorous than ever in a low-cut evening gown of gold lurex, arrived late as usual, and all eyes turned when as she entered the ballroom Kane went straight to her and, taking her arm, led her to the table which he was sharing with Mr and Mrs Burnett.
Lena, sitting with Rex at a table by the high wide doorway—from where she had caught the whiff of exotic perfume as Magda entered—kept her face averted when her companion remarked,
‘There’s certainly so
mething happening there. It’s already rumoured that the announcement of their engagement’s imminent.’ No comment from Lena, and after a moment during which his eyes followed the arresting couple on to the floor as the music struck up, Rex continued by remarking on Magda’s jewellery—the earrings and matching bracelet. ‘My sister was saying that Kane had bought them for Magda, and that they cost the earth. He brought them back from Johannesburg the last time he was there.’
A sudden constriction in her throat caused Lena to swallow several times before she could manage to articulate words.
‘How does your sister know they were so expensive?’ she asked, simply because she could find nothing else to say. She too was watching Kane and Magda, dancing very close together, Kane so tall and straight, Magda, also tall, reaching past his shoulder, looking the acme of feminine perfection. As Lena continued to watch her, Magda laughed up into her companion’s face. The laugh being louder than was necessary Lena sensed that it was all done for effect. Kane, on the other hand, was totally oblivious of any attention he was receiving from the people around him. But Lena suspected that Magda was intensely conscious, both of the sensation her entrance had caused, and of the interest which was now being displayed in the eyes of the other diners and dancers.
‘Rumour,’ admitted Rex in answer to Lena’s question regarding the value of the jewellery.
‘Everything around here seems to hinge on rumour.’
‘True,’ he admitted, but went on to add that there was no smoke without fire. ‘I myself believe that Kane is at least making up his mind to settle down.’
‘He’s had his fling, you mean—and now he’s ready to get married?’ The constriction returned to her throat; she tried to remove it by swallowing, but it remained.
‘Yes, I mean just that. Kane’s the owner of one of the most valuable farms around here; his home is beautiful. It needs a mistress, and who better than the girl he’s dancing with now?’ Rex rambled on, little knowing that every word he spoke was like a sword point in his companion’s heart.
