The Man From Ti Kouka

by Rosalie Henaghan

  Again she stood up and did a little walk round her rocks, then gathered more of the dry sticks and seaweed as a cushion. She snuggled into her rug, aware of the change in temperature, as the sun lowered itself slowly and gently into the sea. For an instant the whole rim of the sky was lit, turning the sea and the tips of the hills behind her to gold, then it seemed to grow dark.

  ‘Trudi, this is where you’ve got to be patient!’ she lectured herself. One of the giant black-backed gulls came to join her on the rocks. Although she knew it was stupid she felt almost honoured by its presence. She ate her half sandwich, then seeing the bird’s eye on her she broke off a piece and threw it at him. He eyed her for a moment, then swept on the bread and flew off with it in his beak.

  ‘You daft creature, Trudi,’ she told herself. ‘That bird can supply himself any time, whereas you’re feeling hungry already. And you’re wide awake, not the slightest bit sleepy, having slept for hours. It’s just as well you have your jeans on or you’d have had a bad dose of sunburn, if not sunstroke!’

  The crashing of the waves seemed impossibly loud and she imagined the spray coming closer.

  The hills and the sea turned black and the first pale star appeared. Much later she could pick up the three bright jewels on Orion’s Belt and she could trace his shape, then she could make out the Seven Sisters just ahead of him. She was going to set a similar gulf between Dan Johnson and herself. In fact, she thought tiredly, she had already done so. He wouldn’t come looking for her, he’d prefer more compliant game.

  ‘Bother the wretched man, he won’t even let me alone for a few moments,’ she muttered angrily to herself. ‘If I ever get married I’d want to marry someone like dear old Mr. Maugh. He’d be kind and considerate and I’d be able to do anything I wanted at the factory. He’s been a wonderful employer and he’d never let me down.’

  Trudi thought it all over carefully. Love was a luxury she did not want. Love was ephemeral, changing like the patterns of the wind, she told herself, denying the small voice that whispered that true love overcame problems and grew because of them. The same voice told her she wasn’t serious in considering marriage for security.

  She stood up slowly and glanced around. Her eyes were quite accustomed to the night and she looked anxiously at the waves, noting that they seemed to be still increasing. She wished she had marked pieces of rock earlier, so that she would know whether the tide was going in or out. Briefly she considered doing so in the limited light, then decided that it would be tempting fate. She glanced along the darkness of the sea, the foam lit by the moon as it smashed on to another group of rocks. The shore was only a pale band and she could see nothing there against the darkness of the hills. If Mr. Maugh were in the same situation, she wondered, what would he do? and realised he would have the great presence of mind to sit still and be patient.

  Tangling on that thought came the image of Dan Johnson. In a similar situation she wondered what he would do. She had to admit the man would never let such a chance arise. For one thing he knew the sea and would have known the danger of the position. If he had sheltered there he would have made sure he left in plenty of time. The memory of his powerful arms slicing through the waves teased her, and she looked at the distance between herself and the water and realised that he would have known too if there was danger or not in the swirling waters. Almost idly she wondered if he was swimming down at the small beach of the camping ground. She considered the possibility briefly then forced it aside. She was not interested in him at all, she reminded herself.

  Her throat seemed oddly large and she uncapped the bottle and had another mouthful, being careful to save a little more. She was glad of the rug now, its woollen fibre was warm. On the rock she had at last felt the coolness of the sea and the damp and cold seemed to have penetrated her bones.

  There was an eeriness that gnawed at her. The dried seaweed that she had gathered from the rock to lie on earlier protected her from the worst of the coldness of the rock, but nothing could block off her imagination. Trudi thought of Dan Johnson again, frightening her with his appearance in the wet-suit. Probably he had been crayfishing. She had a flashing vision of dozens of the crayfish scrambling up the rocks, their pincers enormous and waving. She pushed her fists into tight balls, biting back her instinct to scream. The cloud covering the moon moved away and she felt an overwhelming relief that she could see the rocks in front of her, bare and black.

  Schooling herself to look in the darkened shadows for movement, she tried to cheer herself to more pleasant thoughts of her mother and her new husband and their home in the small dormitory suburb of Christchurch. Thinking it all over she saw that her mother was happy, and Trudi knew that part of her own resentment had been anger at her father’s place being usurped. With a faint wry smile she conceded that until the fisherman’s question the other night she had never faced up to it.

  A cloud blocked the light and she shivered, wishing it were not so dark. If only Maria were here they could tell each other stories. Maria would be able to make up a grisly anecdote about the piece of driftwood that looked like a skeletal arm and fingers. Trudi shuddered and picked it up, heaving it as far as she could, but the splash was hidden in the crash of the waves.

  To cheer herself up she began singing. At first she sang pop songs and ballads and when her repertoire ran out she began on nursery rhymes.

  ‘Trudi! Nereid!’

  Instinctively she answered, then stood up in surprise. A black dripping figure appeared round the rocks, but this time she was glad to recognise Dan Johnson. She watched as he removed his flippers and hauled himself up. His wet-suit glinted over the contours of his body and the blackness seemed to be echoed by the dark spark in his eyes.

  ‘I never heard of a nereid singing “Baa, baa, black sheep” before,’ he said softly. ‘All the same, I think you’re more dangerous than those ancient damsels.’

  ‘I was perfectly all right.’

  ‘Of course! You just happened to land up on one of the most difficult pieces on the whole coastline to do your Circe act. At least you had the sense to stay put,’ he added grudgingly. ‘You might appreciate these.’ He removed a rope and two bags tied around his back.

  Two thermos flasks and some plastic-wrapped articles were in the bags. The first revealed a warm thick-knit sweater which she pulled on happily.

  Eagerly she opened a flask and the tang of hot thick soup rose above the smell of the sea. She hardly noticed him stripping off some of his unwieldy gear and pulling on a thick fisherman’s type of jersey which had also been wrapped in waterproof.

  She drank some of the soup slowly, letting the warmth seep deliciously through her being. When Dan sat down beside her she poured him some and he smiled whimsically as though he wasn’t sure whether she gave it gladly or not. Trudi felt slightly ridiculous as he glanced at her and she was sure he was remembering the drink at the creek, when she had made her antagonism so obvious.

  ‘It was good of you to bring the hot soup,’ she said. ‘I was feeling hungry. Without a watch the time seemed to hang heavily and I wasn’t sure just how long I’d have to wait.’

  ‘Then you came out here at low tide? If you’d met me this afternoon it wouldn’t have happened.’ Dan looked at her steadily. ‘If I’d known you had a rug and some drink and food I’d have let you stay.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t invite you to come and do the big hero act,’ she flared. ‘Nor did I say that I’d go with you to the little bay. Just who do you think you are?’ To her surprise he chuckled.

  ‘Shakespeare must have met an ancestor of yours, I reckon. Obviously you’re not injured?’

  ‘Obviously!’ Trudi snapped back.

  ‘Well, why didn’t you get off earlier?’ he demanded.

  Trudi hung her head. ‘I fell asleep.’

  He roared with laughter, but it was a jovial sound, not the nasty one she had envisaged. She was even able to grin back at him.

  ‘We’ve got something in common, nereid,’
he commented. ‘Sure you’re all right? No bumps, cuts, bruises?’

  ‘Not one,’ confessed Trudi.

  To her surprise he pulled out a torch and she saw him flash it at the shore in a quick signal. The light was returned and she saw rather than heard the jeep headlights speeding away.

  ‘Just letting the others know you were perfectly O.K. and that we can get off later,’ explained Dan.

  ‘I was planning to leave at two o’clock, if not before. It will be dry then.’

  ‘True, but it could be dark and there’s no point in getting smashed up falling from up here. A slip would mean a broken leg or worse.’

  Trudi gazed at him in horror. It was bad enough to be so pleased to see him, but it was worse to be trapped with Dan Johnson in such a small area with the prospect of it lasting until two the following afternoon. She looked down at the rug she had been wrapping round her trying to keep warm, and Dan positively grinned as he sat beside her.

  ‘O.K., lie next to me and you’ll keep warm and tell me the story of your life. Unless you’d rather amuse yourself with other activities?’

  There was no mistaking his meaning.

  ‘You louse! You ... you...’

  ‘Careful, I don’t like insults, remember?’ he warned. ‘Well, I’ve no desire to spend my time chatting as though I was on a summer picnic with you!’

  ‘Good, then let’s have some fun.’ He reached for her and pulled her closer, holding her firmly, as she protested.

  ‘Relax, Trudi, I was only teasing! Tell me about Maria and her husband.’

  Gradually Trudi began to unwind. She had to admit it was rather pleasant, and certainly a lot warmer, snuggled up’ close to him, after the chill of the night. Besides, she reasoned, she was a lot safer talking about Maria than she would be fighting him. Oddly enough he was a good listener and there was a strange peace between them as they talked. There was something very soothing in lying next to his firm muscular body, feeling his care for her. It was just as well she had stood him up or he might begin to imagine she enjoyed it, as on that earlier occasion. In the dark it seemed easy to talk.

  ‘So, where do you go from here? Back to the factory?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘What about marriage?’ he asked. ‘What’s this boss of yours like?’

  ‘He’s a charming man, he’s been very kind to me. As a matter of fact I decided he might be a good man to marry,’ Trudi said coolly. Even as she said it she knew she could never marry Mr. Maugh, even if he showered her with diamonds. Yet for some strange reason she knew the thought would not please Dan Johnson.

  ‘Why?’

  She was aware of the gentle movement of his finger sketching a whirl on the point of her throat close to her ear. She tried to ignore it, but the movement was very persistent.

  ‘Why?’ he asked again.

  She moved away, sitting up quickly, unable to bear the feelings that the tiny movement had caused.

  ‘I think he’s kind, he’ll give me what I want, and I won’t ever have to worry about money again in my life.’

  ‘The third reason,’ he muttered softly, and she felt suddenly bereft as he stood up and flung the rug back at her. She knew he was furiously angry and she felt immediately sorry, stretching her hand to his.

  ‘I’m sorry if that seems a lousy reason for you. I’d forgotten farm workers don’t get much pay.’

  ‘There are compensations,’ he spoke shortly. ‘I suppose this man is some oily suave creep who’s filthy rich and that’s all you care about. You wouldn’t be marrying him, you’d be wedded to the factory. Don’t you think there’ll be any sex in this marriage of yours?’

  Even in the shadow she was held pinned by the fierceness in his voice.

  ‘You couldn’t even sit still a moment ago when I touched you, woman. You can’t give up your life like that!’

  ‘I can do anything I please so long as it doesn’t hurt anybody else. My marriage would concern only my husband and myself,’ Trudi snapped. She wished this man with his overwhelming sensuality was on the shore, and that he had not come swimming out to keep her company. The fact that he had prepared so carefully had impressed her. The food, the dry clothes would have been a life-saver if she had needed them. It annoyed her to think that he had bothered to search for her and possibly endangered his own life. She did not have to study his face, he would be wearing that same arrogant ‘know it all’ expression she despised.

  Trudi stood up too.

  ‘What does it matter to you? You’re nobody to me, Dan Johnson.’

  ‘Your name should be Circe,’ he told her. ‘If I hadn’t seen you playing so happily at the creek, talked to you in the moonlight and seen your dance on the beach I wouldn’t care, but that revealed someone else. That nereid was beautiful, she was a creature of love, a gentle girl, passionate music to the soul. I fell in love with that woman, I think.’ His voice had become soft, almost tender.

  ‘She doesn’t exist, it was a whimsy of the moonlight,’ Trudi said shortly. It was too dangerous standing taut beside him, and when he turned his head to study her she sat down abruptly. To her surprise Dan sat beside her again, and the touch of his thigh against hers set her pulses racing. Instinctively she moved away, but he simply pulled her closer, wrapping the rug over her.

  ‘She’s a dream woman, beautiful in the moonlight, yet mysterious. I wanted to make love to her, to cherish her, to protect her, to see her smile.’ He moved slightly and Trudi felt his arm slip around her, turning her face to his.

  ‘His mouth claimed hers with infinite gentleness. Trudi felt herself respond to the mood he had spoken of and for a few moment she dared to hope that perhaps the world of love he had shone before her might have some hope. Their kiss seemed to lift them both to the stars, and she answered him, the sound of the sea crashing like the barriers around her heart.

  ‘My beautiful nereid,’ he whispered softly, as his finger found her ear. He bent and kissed it softly. He was exultant, and she felt his joy crash through her as he claimed her mouth yet again.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘I won’t ever stop loving you, my gift from the sea. You’ll be the happiest woman in the land, I’ll give you the moon and the stars and surround you with sunshine.’

  For a few intoxicating moments Trudi let herself be carried away by Dan’s words. It was heaven to be in his arms and she knew she had never experienced kisses such as those they had shared. Her body was a wild thing wanting his caresses and his gentle yet firm touch had promised so much.

  She pushed him away and hid her face in her hands. She felt as if her body was being split. Could she risk loving? This man was a stranger. All she knew was so little—he rode a horse, he cleaned up the camp, he was a strong swimmer and he had read at some time in his life.

  ‘I’ll give you a little time, I’ve waited all my life for you to come along, my sea woman.’ He was smiling, and Trudi gazed at him, trying to see his face.

  ‘Sweetheart, we can reach stars together.’

  He held her hand and blew a kiss on to her palm, closing the fingers over the spot as if to trap the kiss, then turned her head to the stars.

  ‘Look at the bright star, Acheron—he almost seemed to be shining just for us. Even the Southern Cross is blazing tonight. My love is as constant as those paths, my nereid,’ he whispered.

  ‘Please, I can’t take any more,’ gasped Trudi.

  It was true. It was bad enough that the man’s body should be so physically attractive, but she would have no defences left if his mind continued to delight her. She knew without being told that Dan was baring a side that few others would have seen. It touched her deeply, and she knew too that her instincts were screaming at her that this was right, that this was a man she could be happy with for ever.

  He held her quietly, looking at her. ‘Have some coffee, Trudi.’

  She took it, grateful for the drink, then choked in surprise.

  Dan grinned. ‘Sorry, nereid. I laced it before I
came, I didn’t know whether you’d be half frozen or not. It’s good, though.’ Again the smile flashed and she saw the white straight teeth in the faint light. She realised it had been growing lighter and she listened to the sea thinking that it didn’t sound half as fierce as before. Quietly she passed him more of the coffee, then stood up and peered down.

  ‘I think we can get down. There’s hardly any sea, and you have the torch.’

  ‘You’re right, of course. I was hoping you’d believe me about being too dark to see. In half an hour it will be a little lighter and the rock will be surrounded by sand and we can get down. We might as well finish the coffee and be comfortable.’

  Trudi frowned, supposing he was right. She would have liked to have confirmed her observations with the torch, but he had packed it in the bag beside him and she didn’t want to lean over him. If he held her and kissed her again the madness might recur. The coffee was delicious and she sipped it slowly, thinking about the man beside her.

  Dan suited him in some way, yet Daniel had a dignity that would match him better, she thought. His hands were tough and muscular, yet they had held her with sensitivity. Hands that could point to the stars but little else, she mused. Her thoughts raced pellmell.

  ‘You think too much,’ he whispered softly in her ear, and she felt again the quickening of her body as he curved her against him. She reached her arms around his neck unable to resist, wanting the fire of his kisses. Tantalisingly he kissed her briefly, then began to kiss her ear, her throat, her eyes before returning to her lips. Trudi felt the heavens were spinning as she felt the fathomless deep of that kiss. It had been much more than a brief physical exploration. Somewhere in it she had let Dan take control, and she shivered once he released her. For better or worse she was in love with this tender giant whom she had feared so intensely. She realised that she had been instinctively attracted to him right from the start.