CHAPTER SIX
The tents had been taken down, the equipment had been loaded on to the trucks, and the precious cargo packed firmly into the Microbus for a gentler ride back to the city. Nothing remained to indicate it had been a camping site, except for their footprints in the dust, and the dead ashes of the previous night's fire. Christie stared about her with a rising lump in her throat. Tomorrow this would all be a memory, but, like some memories, this was one which she knew she would never forget.
'You're coming with me,' Lyle barked at her when she would have got into the truck beside Dennis, and Christie was not in the mood to argue, or to question this unexpected decision of his.
She followed Lyle towards the Jeep parked in a spot which was shaded from the heat of the early morning sun. She dumped her bag on to the back seat, and Lyle was already seated impatiently behind the wheel when she got in beside him. He turned the key in the ignition the moment she slammed the door shut, and the roar of the Jeep's engine was the signal for the other vehicles to follow. Christie took one last look at the open patch among the trees, then she slumped back into her seat and sat there fighting against that aching tightness in her throat. She wanted to cry, but she was damned if she was going to do so in front of Lyle.
It was going to be another long, hot day, and the trip back to Johannesburg was going to take hours. Lyle's blue shirt was open almost to his waist, and his grey trousers spanned tightly across his muscular thighs. His strong hands rested lightly on the steering wheel, and when she risked a quick glance at his face she found his profile stern and forbidding. It was sad, she thought, that one could be so close to someone, and yet so terribly far away. If only it could have been different.
'I'm sorry about last night,' she felt compelled to say the minute they jolted off the uneven track on to a smoother gravel road. 'It was in poor taste to choose a song which would remind you of a period in your life which you would much rather not dwell on.'
'Forget it!' he brushed aside her apology, his expression unaltered as he changed gear and put his foot down on the accelerator. 'The reason why I wanted you to travel with me this morning was because I want to talk to you about Dennis.'
'What about Dennis?' she asked, instantly on her guard.
'He still has several years of studying ahead of him.' A cynical smile twisted Lyle's mouth. 'He's also too young for you, and too inexperienced.'
'And what is that supposed to mean?' she demanded, barely managing to hang on to her temper.
'Leave him alone, Christie,' Lyle warned harshly. 'He's a brilliant scholar, and I don't want him distracted in any way, or hurt by someone like yourself.'
'Hold on a moment!' Blue sparks of angry fire darted from her eyes when she turned' in her seat to face him. 'You're behaving as if I'm some sort of Delilah who is planning to seduce Dennis and destroy him.'
Lyle's hands tightened on the wheel. 'I'm sorry if I gave that impression, but he has the potential to become one of our country's leading archaeologists, and I don't want anything, or anyone, to spoil his chances.'
'I should imagine he's old enough to take care of himself,' she snapped, her voice pure acid. 'And why are you so concerned about him anyway?'
'He's the son of a fellow archaeologist who is a friend as well as someone I respect and admire very much.'
'And it might ruin a great friendship if it should become known that his son has become involved with your ex-wife?' she finished for him sarcastically.
'Dammit, Christie!' he exploded with a violence that made her shrink from him in the confined space of the Jeep. 'It's not that at all!'
'Then why do you make it seem as if I have committed a crime by being friendly with Dennis?'
Lyle cast a brief, angry glance in her direction. 'Dennis wants more than friendship from you, and if you don't know that already, then you have less sense than I gave you credit for.'
Christie felt her anger and indignation drain away from her. It was true. She had noticed Dennis's interest in her, and she had known that she would have to do something about it before it went too far, but it did not do her any good to have Lyle reminding her of something she had neglected to carry out.
'All right!' she snapped at length, gesturing expressively with her hands. 'I admit that I think he has a bit of a crush on me, but I know it will pass, and I don't want to hurt him with an outright rejection of his friendship.'
'An outright rejection might be preferable to letting the situation linger on until he has become completely besotted,' Lyle pointed out harshly.
'Thank you,' she replied coldly, 'but I'll deal with the situation in my own way, if and when necessary.'
'Very well,' he said in a tight-lipped manner, 'but if you disrupt him in his studies in any way, then you will have me to deal with.'
The warning was there, and so perfectly clear that it sent a little shiver up her spine, but she refused to be intimidated.
'Yes, sir, Professor Venniker!' She acknowledged his warning sarcastically, but her insides quivered at the blazing fury she saw in his dark eyes when he glanced at her.
They did not speak to each other after that unless it was absolutely necessary, and Christie finally leaned back in her seat and lowered her dark glasses on to her small straight nose. It was hot, and she was tired, but she could not sleep in the Jeep. Her conversation with Lyle had disturbed her more than she wanted to believe, and she could only hope that, once they were back in the city, Dennis's feelings for her would cool rapidly. She did not intend to disrupt his studies, as Lyle seemed to think, and she did not want to hurt him, but she had a feeling it might be inevitable.
There was one other thought that plagued her. Would she see Lyle again? She thought of Sonia Deacon, blonde and beautiful, and a stabbing pain lodged itself in her chest. Sonia would be waiting for him, and Christie imagined that Lyle was equally anxious to get back to Sonia. Why shouldn't he be? Christie tortured herself. Sonia did not have a career which would take her away from Lyle. She would always be there when he needed her. That was one of the accusations Lyle had flung at Christie in that heated argument before he had left for Italy. 'You're never there when I need you!' he had shouted at her, and she had shouted back, 'You should have thought of that before you married someone with a career like mine!'
Raking up the past was painful. She had lost Lyle five years ago, but this time it would be more painful than before. She glanced at him from time to time, but his hawk-like profile remained stern and forbidding. It was impossible to talk to him, or to find some level on which they could communicate without rancour, and the kilometres sped by while they maintained a stony silence.
They stopped for refreshments at Nylstroom, but the lack of frivolity amongst the group told Christie that they shared her sadness at the thought that the expedition had come to an end. They ate their hamburgers and drank their cold drinks in silence, and Christie joined the three girls for a quiet chat to avoid being alone with Dennis when she saw him walking purposefully in her direction.
The last part of their journey seemed to go much faster than the first, and Christie felt a savage tightening in her chest when Johannesburg's skyscrapers came into sight. It was almost time to say goodbye, and she was not looking forward to it.
'Do you need a lift to your flat?' Lyle broke the strained silence between them when they neared the university grounds, and she shook her head to give herself a moment to control her voice.
'If you drop me off at the nearest bus stop I'll manage.'
'Well, here's a bus stop coming up,' he announced a few seconds later, pulling to the side of the road, and the rest of the convoy came to a halt behind them.
'Thanks,' Christie murmured, jumping out and lifting her bag off the back seat.
'Hey, Christie!' Dennis leapt down from the truck and walked towards her with long, quick strides. 'I haven't got your address.'
Christie's eyes met Lyle's as he walked round the back of the Jeep. She saw the disapproval in his tight-lipped
features, but she decided to ignore it for the moment.
'I'm in the telephone book,' she said to Dennis. 'Give me a call sometime.'
Leaving her bag on the pavement, she went to say goodbye to the rest of the group, and several minutes elapsed before she found herself confronting Lyle. The bus was coming, she could see it approaching from the direction they had come, and everything she had planned to say vanished from her mind.
'I suppose this is… goodbye,' she croaked, swallowing convulsively as the bus drew near and came to a squealing halt in front of the Jeep.
'I'd like you to know that your services were appreciated.'
For one frightful moment she suspected that he was referring to that night they had made love rather than her services as a shorthand/typist, and she hastily picked up her bag to climb into the bus before he noticed the tell-tale warmth surging into her cheeks.
Christie sat down beside a window and, oblivious of the curious glances of the other passengers, she turned in her seat and waved. The students waved back enthusiastically, but Lyle stood with his hands thrust into the pockets of his trousers. There was a strange grimness about his mouth as the bus pulled away with a jolt, and she felt embarrassing tears fill her eyes.
Christie showered and shampooed her hair that night, and she lingered under the jet of warm water for the sheer pleasure of it before she turned off the tap and dried herself. The silk of her nightdress felt good against her perfumed skin after the cheap cotton pyjamas she had worn the past weeks, and she dried her hair with the blow drier before she curled up on her bed with her carved, wooden jewellery box.
She had put this moment off until she had known she would be able to satisfy her curiosity without being disturbed, and her heart was bouncing wildly against her ribs when she turned the small key in the lock. She lifted the lid and slipped her hand inside until her fingers came into contact with a flat, circular object. She took it out and in the palm of her hand lay the ivory disc which Lyle had given her five years ago. She slipped her free hand beneath her pillow and brought out a bright green scarf which she opened carefully to expose the disc she had found. She placed it beside its replica on the palm of her hand, and she felt again that strange excitement churning through her. They were identical except for the figure in the centre, and Christie could not help but admire the craftsman who had made these discs a thousand years ago.
The two discs were both in equally good condition. They were yellowed with age, but other than that they were perfect. They belonged together. If not with two people who loved each other, as Indlovukazi and her lover had loved each other, then in an archaeological museum where the discs would never be parted again.
Christie took out a small blue velvet bag which was not in use, and she carefully dropped the two discs into it. She tightened the satin cord at the opening, and knotted it securely. One day, perhaps, she might find the strength to part with one, or both of these precious discs, but for the moment they were hers, and hers alone.
It was difficult settling down after the weeks of physical exertion. She would have to think of finding another job, but at the same time she toyed with the idea of taking a relaxing holiday to get away from everything, and to get her life back into perspective. Knowing that Lyle was in Johannesburg made it all the more difficult for her to drag her thoughts away from him. It was no use hoping that she would see him again. That night they had made love she had known that she could still attract him physically, but afterwards he had made it quite clear that he no longer cared. He was a man with normal physical needs, he had said, and if she had doubted him in any way, then he had underlined the fact by his reaction to the song she had sung that last night around the camp fire. She meant nothing to him.
The old wounds of the past had been ripped open, and she knew again the pain and misery of having lost the only man she could ever love. There was no sense in hoping for miracles, but her foolish heart still clung to the fragile hope that Lyle might come back to her.
Three days after her return to Johannesburg, Christie received a cheque in the post and a brief letter from the university thanking her for the service she had rendered. It seemed to her that, with this cheque, all contact with Lyle had been broken, and her misery and longing intensified to the extent that she wept for hours that day.
Sammy Peterson telephoned to welcome her back and he invited her out to lunch, but she refused. She had known him long enough to know what an invitation to lunch would entail. He would have a new, more tempting contract tucked away inside his jacket and, at a given moment, he would produce it with a flourish. Her refusal to sign it would not stop him from rattling off the advantages provided in the contract, and in the end they would part company with Sammy feeling wounded and annoyed that she could have refused the 'golden opportunity' he had offered her.
Christie had been home a week when her doorbell chimed shortly after six one evening and, when she opened the door as far as the safety chain would allow, she was surprised to find Dennis standing there smiling at her rather apologetically.
'I decided to take a chance on finding you at home rather than telephoning,' he explained. 'I hope you don't mind?'
'I don't mind at all,' she assured him, sliding back the safety chain and opening the door wide. 'Come in.'
Tall and lean, he stepped inside, and his green glance briefly scanned her comfortably furnished flat while she closed the door and gestured him into a chair. It was good to see him again, Christie decided as she took in his youthful appearance. The cream-coloured slacks and navy blazer made him look vastly different from the dust-grovelling archaeology student she had come to know, but then, she supposed, she looked different as well in the surroundings which were more familiar to her, and she could see that Dennis was entertaining the same thoughts when his appreciative glance swept her silk-clad figure.
'Do you have anything special planned for this evening?' he asked, lounging comfortably in the chair facing hers.
'No, I don't,' she confessed without thinking.
'That's great, because there is this little place I know of that makes the most fantastic pizzas.' His enthusiasm was replaced by a look of uncertainty. 'You do eat pizzas, don't you?'
Christie's smile of amusement deepened. 'I love them.
'You'll come with me, then?'
She hesitated, not knowing what to do. Lyle's warnings were still fresh in her mind, but at that moment she did not have the heart to hurt Dennis.
'I'll be with you in a minute,' she promised, and she left him there in the lounge while she touched up her make-up and collected her bag and a wrap.
Dennis's silver-grey Colt was fast and manoeuvrable in the traffic and, when they reached Tony's Pizza Parlour, it slid without effort into a parking space which had only just been vacated.
The pizza parlour seemed crowded, but Dennis steered Christie towards a vacant table in the far corner. The tempting aroma of pizzas and freshly ground coffee made her realise that she had been wrong in thinking that she was not hungry and, when Dennis placed their order, her mouth actually began to water in anticipation.
The blue, checked tablecloth looked cool and fresh beneath the dim light which hung low over the table, and Christie felt a little awkward until she began to question Dennis about his studies and the conclusive tests which would have to be carried out on the relics they had uncovered. His enthusiasm for archaeology was clearly evident when he told her that it had been ascertained that the relics definitely dated back to the Iron Age. The expedition had been a worthwhile experience, and Lyle's notes on their daily progress had been discussed at length.
'The professor has had extra copies made of your typed scripts so that we can study them at our leisure,' Dennis informed her just as their pizzas and coffee was served.
They ate their pizzas in silence and drank their coffee, but Christie could see that something was troubling Dennis. He smiled at her whenever their glances met, but a slight frown drew his dark brows together when he thought
he was unobserved.
The pizza parlour was emptying gradually when Dennis looked up and asked, 'Could I order you another cup of coffee?'
'I still have some, thanks,' she smiled, and that little frown was suddenly back between his brows.
He looked at her, his eyes intent upon her face, and after a moment of obvious indecision he said almost accusingly, 'You haven't asked about the professor.'
'What about him?' she asked, instantly on her guard.
'He's been in a foul mood ever since we came back from that trip,' Dennis enlightened her with a scowl, and Christie hovered somewhere between amusement and concern.
'What do you expect me to do about that?'
'There was a time when he was that someone special in your life,' Dennis reminded her cruelly of the past.
'That was a long time ago.'
'Are you going to tell me about it?'
He looked at her expectantly, but she shook her head with an adamant, 'No.'
She did not want to discuss her marriage to Lyle with anyone, least of all with Dennis. The subject was too personal… and too painful.
'Is there any chance of you and the professor getting together again?' Dennis interrupted her thoughts while she drank the last of her coffee.
'No chance at all,' she told him, putting down her cup and lowering her lashes to hide the pain in her eyes.
'Then what about you and I—'
'No!' Christie interrupted sharply when she realised what he was about to say. This was what she had feared might happen, and this was what Lyle had warned against, but there was no way to end it other than being firm.
'No?' His green eyes looked hurt and puzzled when he leaned towards her across the table. 'Just like that… and with no acceptable explanation?'
Christie hated herself at that moment and, filled with remorse, she placed her hand lightly over his. 'Dennis, you're a very nice young man, and I appreciate your friendship, but that's all it will ever be.'
'Are you still in love with Professor Venniker?'
A Moment in Time Page 9
