After Sundown
Page 2
‘I hate him!’ declared Moira, throwing caution to the winds.
‘Isn’t it an aimless, lazy existence?’ queried Austin, his glance moving to Tina, who after a second’s thought nodded her head in an abstracted sort of way.
‘I—I suppose it is,’ she owned. No one spoke and she went on, ‘These jobs, Father. What will they be?’
Moira’s brows shot up.
‘I’m not going to Australia,’ she put in firmly.
Austin merely flicked her a glance, and then, to Tina, ‘There’ll be cleaning to do about the house, and cooking—’
‘Cooking?’ cried Tina, appalled. ‘I couldn’t! Please, Father, don’t make us go. If we must earn our living then why can’t we do it here? I could work in—in—’ She stopped, her wide brow creasing in thought. ‘In a boutique!’ she ended with a bright smile.
‘You shall work for my son,’ he told her quietly, going on to say that it was quite useless for either her or Moira to argue as his mind was made up.
‘I shan’t go!’ Moira flung herself on to the couch and leant back, crossing one leg over the other. Her whole manner was one of indolence and, catching her eye, Tina gave a slight shake of her head, silently urging her to sit up straight. Not that anything would do any good, decided Tina, feeling helpless and resigned. Moira hadn’t handled Father very well at all; and she could handle him with great success if she tried.
‘You will go.’ Austin’s expression was stern. ‘You will both be on trial during this year that you’re to stay on the ranch—’
‘But we’ve never done that kind of work,’ interrupted Tina desperately.
‘You’ve never done any kind of work. But now you’re going to learn.’ He stopped a moment and it suddenly struck Tina that he did have difficulty in maintaining this new pose. She felt he had actually rehearsed all he was to say; she felt also that he was hurting himself just as much as he was hurting the girls he loved. ‘Charles will let me have reports on you—’
‘He—!’ Both girls spoke together; Moira continued, ‘Father, do you honestly believe I shall have your son sending you reports on me?’
‘This is the arrangement we’ve made, Moira,’ he answered quietly. ‘If these reports are satisfactory then, a year from now, you’ll both return and, satisfied that you’ve learned all about the real business of living, I shall allow you to return to the life you’ve always known. Should the reports not satisfy me, then you’ll still come home, of course, but you’ll find yourselves jobs and live on what you earn.’ He looked aside and once again Tina was aware of what his words were costing him. She waited for him to face her again, then asked when they were to go. She spoke on a tiny sob that had in the past worked wonders with him, and she peeped up through her lashes, using those beautiful eyes which he had never been able to resist. She even went to the extent of flicking away an imaginary tear from one delicately-fashioned cheek. If only she could produce a real tear, it might do the trick—but try as she would she failed.
‘Oh, darling,’ she cried brokenly. ‘We’ll miss you dreadfully! And you ... you’re going to be so lonely without us!’ To her astonishment the hint of a smile touched the outline of his lips; it was a satirical smile, reminiscent of the way his son’s lips curved.
‘It’s no use any more, Tina,’ he commented smoothly. ‘All this has been most effective in the past, but I’m not touched by it at the moment. My duty is to see that you learn this lesson.’ The smile deepened. ‘I believe you’re resigned, my child, and I might as well tell you this one last effort is a waste of time. As for my being lonely, I admit to the truth of this. However, I’ve decided to go over a couple of times during the year—to see my son and also to see how you’re getting along.’ His voice held a note of finality which even Moira recognized, and she made no further attempt to argue. But when, later, Austin was in the garden, she went to his study and found his son’s letter, on the desk where he had put it along with the other papers he had been perusing.
‘Listen to this,’ she exclaimed in disgust on entering her sister’s bedroom, holding the letter in her hand. ‘Just listen to what that hateful man writes! “Yes, I’ll take them for a year, and they’ll return either made or broken. At present they’re just a couple of parasites, idle dolls in continuous pursuit of pleasure. They’ll find precious little pleasure here, and this of course will be the real test. If they manage to stay the course, and succeed in settling down to the life here, then I shall be only too willing to take back all I’ve ever said about them, and about your method of bringing them up.” What do you think of that!’
Tina, who had just come from the shower, stood wrapped in a huge towel, and stared disbelievingly at her sister.
‘Where did you get that letter?’
‘From Father’s study,’ answered Moira, frowning impatiently. ‘I’ve asked what you think of it?’
‘You actually took the letter from Father’s study—and read it?’
‘It’s obvious I’ve read it. Don’t look so shocked,’ she added irritably on noting Tina’s expression. ‘I had every intention of finding it and reading it. Father often lets us read Charles’s letters, and as he was intent on hiding it this time I knew that hateful son of his had said something horrid about us. So I made it my business to discover just what it was. I’m not going out to Australia,’ she added, but Tina, still shocked by Moira’s action in reading the letter, said quietly that they had no alternative other than to go, adding that it would have been far better had the contents of Charles’s letter not been made known to them.
‘Rubbish! Forewarned is forearmed. If I must go—and I’m still not resigned, no matter what you say—I shall at least know what to expect from Charles.’ She was white with fury, and Tina watched, fascinated, as she pushed a quivering hand through her fair hair, bringing it into disorder, which was so unlike Moira, who was always immaculate in every way. ‘I hate Father!’ she cried, flouncing out of the room. Tina began to rub herself down, sighing deeply and, too late, deciding it would have been far better if, a year or two ago, she had made the suggestion to her father that she go out to work. She could have found a small job—a couple of hours a day, perhaps—and this would assuredly have satisfied him. But now—The thought of working on a cattle station in the wilds of the interior of Australia fairly made her flesh tingle. What a dull existence! No parties or dances, no going off to Paris for week-ends as she and Moira and several of their friends had been doing recently.
‘I’ll die,’ she wailed, tears actually starting to her eyes. ‘A whole year! And having to please Charles into the bargain. Probably he’ll not be satisfied with anything we do.’ Yes, he could be spiteful, Tina suddenly realized. He could send Austin a bad report, and in that case Austin would carry out his threat and make her and Moira go out into the world and earn their own living. And what a living! Tina could see herself earning just sufficient to keep body and soul together. ‘If only Father had given us some warning. We could then have pretended that we wanted to go out to work, and of course he’d have been so pleased that he wouldn’t have let us.’ But it was too late now, and although Tina made up her mind to work on Austin again, when he was in a more pliable mood, she knew instinctively that she would be wasting her time.
CHAPTER TWO
The honey-tinted glow of evening lay like a cloak over the timeless landscape of rolling undulations spreading away to distant horizons. Along the fringes of the billabong tall spreading gum trees formed dark silhouettes against the softening sky; the appealing scent of wattles filled the air and movement in the far shadows gave evidence of kangaroos eating in the tawny grasses.
Standing on the verandah, Tina took in the now familiar scene and a loud sigh escaped her. Two weeks she and Moira had been here, working on Farne River Downs—working for a boss whose only remarks were scathing ones. Not complaints—oh, no. They might have been bearable. It was the sarcasm, the irony and contempt which grated against Tina’s nerves and set her temper on fire. H
ow long before she was driven to retaliate? She had been very close to answering him back, on several occasions, and she did wonder how she could continue taking all he threw at her and not flinging anything back. He took advantage of the situation, knowing full well that her future was in his hands. With Moira, strangely, he was slightly more human, giving her the occasional smile and word of encouragement. One reason for this could be that Charles had met Tina before—and decided he disliked her intensely, whereas with Moira he had not had the opportunity of forming an opinion at all.
‘What, might I ask, was that great sigh for?’
Tina stiffened as the voice came from behind her.
She turned her head and looked up at the man, noting the faintly amused curve of his lips and the glint of humour in the deep blue eyes. Charles was dressed in tight-fitting trousers and a checked shirt. His hands, tough and brown, were half in and half out of his belt.
‘I expect it was because I’m tired,’ she admitted, turning again to gaze out across the bush. Men could be seen among the cattle, which stretched away into infinity as the animals spread over the vast domain of Charles Sands, Boss of Farne River Downs Station. Was it his possessions which gave him such arrogance? she wondered, conscious of him behind her, and feeling sure his eyes were travelling over her ... with an expression of disdain in their depths.
‘Tired, eh? Well, that’ll be a new experience for you, won’t it?’ Rich deep tones, but drawling and lazy-sounding.
‘It is a new experience, yes.’ Tina spoke coolly, in a voice he was beginning to expect from her. ‘With work of this sort it’s better to have small doses at first, just until one gets used to it.’ She frowned inwardly. This having to speak with an accent of humility. How she hated doing so. Yet she must make an effort to keep her temper within bounds. ‘I’ve been working since six o’clock this morning.’
‘Shame! You must be exhausted.’
The colour rose in Tina’s cheeks. She half turned. ‘Do you have to be so sarcastic?’ she just could not help asking, her mind on her sister, who, somehow, was managing to keep out of the kitchen. She manipulated the vacuum cleaner and flicked a duster; she arranged flowers and laid the table for lunch and dinner. She was often missing and Tina knew she was in her bedroom, taking it easy with a book, or having a siesta. As Charles’s time was spent mainly out of doors he never even noticed that Moira was evading her work. Unconsciously, Tina fidgeted with a broken nail and, ignoring her question, Charles said,
‘What’s the matter? Have you soiled your hands?’ At that her chin lifted; she saw his eyes kindle strangely and had the odd impression that all along he had been taunting her, driving her so hard that she would lose her temper. Just in time this idea presented itself, and she bit back the retort rising to her lips.
‘I’ve broken my nail,’ she replied with cold dignity.
He laughed... and yet she knew instinctively that her restraint disappointed him.
‘A broken nail would have been a tragedy a fortnight or so ago.’ Half statement, half question. She turned right round, realized that he himself had moved closer to her and she made a sudden twist so that she was at the side of him instead of at the front. The action had no effect on him and she felt relieved to conclude that it had passed unnoticed.
‘I’m not really interested in what it would have meant,’ she told him, still in the quiet tones, edged with the cold inflection she kept for him alone. ‘Here, it doesn’t matter. I expect I shall have more than a broken nail before I’m finished.’
Charles leant against a pillar and regarded Tina in silence for a while. For the first time he appeared to be interested in her appearance and she felt his examining eyes probe from the shirt and trews she wore, to what was underneath. A flush rose to her cheeks and she glanced down at the broken nail again. Charles spoke, his voice changing from the sardonic one she knew to one of faint interest, and she glanced up in swift surprise.
‘You sound determined to give this new life a trial?’
‘I haven’t any option, have I? Father says we have to stay for a year, and so we must.’
‘Have you always obeyed my father in this way?’ he inquired curiously, and it suddenly struck Tina just how little Charles and his father’s stepdaughters knew of each other. Of course, it was the result of his living in Australia and their living in England. Had they all been living closer then they would have known one another much better.
‘We’ve always done as he wished, yes.’
Charles raised one straight brow in a gesture of scepticism.
‘I can scarcely believe that, Tina. You’ve been thoroughly spoiled and given all your own way. Such a lax upbringing is not conducive to obedience.’
She said nothing for a space, but listened to the lazy chuckle of a jacko in the casuarina tree shading the centre of the lawn.
‘I’ve always known you disapproved of the way Father was with us,’ she murmured at last, for the silence was becoming oppressive. Charles was the last companion with whom to share the quietness of oncoming twilight in the mysterious and seductive loneliness of the Outback. ‘You said we were idle and over-indulged.’
His eyes flickered with humour.
‘He told you that?’
Tina nodded. She would very much have liked to repeat what was contained in the letter Moira had read out to her, but of course she refrained. It would have been interesting to note his reaction on learning that Tina knew he had called her and Moira a couple of parasites, idle dolls in continuous pursuit of pleasure.
‘You influenced him in the measure he’s taken with us. He would never have thought of it on his own.’
The fine lips twitched and the blue eyes glimmered, amusement mingling with the natural hardness in their depths. The man was handsome, Tina reluctantly owned—handsome in a cold unapproachable kind of way. He had about him a remoteness matching the austere unyielding bush, yet conversely she had the impression of an elusive hint of softness somewhere in his otherwise formidable make-up. Her mind went to his father, to the kindness he had always shown to his stepdaughters, to his generosity and understanding, to his compassion and his deep concern for others, especially those in his employ. It was only feasible that some of these fine qualities should have been passed on to Charles. To Tina, though, Charles was the hardened son of her adored stepfather, the son whose influence had been so strongly exerted that an upheaval had been caused in all their lives, for Tina was sure that Austin was equally unhappy about the separation.
‘It was high time Father was shaken into doing something about you two.’ Charles spoke in his slow Australian drawl, but there was no mistaking the firmness in his voice. It was plain that he believed he had done right in influencing his father. ‘You were living on the surface, and taking as your right all that Father dished out to you. You had no qualms about squandering money he and others worked hard to make.’ He regarded Tina in disgust for a few unpleasant seconds and, biting her lip, she twisted her head, avoiding those dark metallic eyes. The words had gone home, making a deep impression, but not for anything would she have given Charles the satisfaction of hearing her admit this. ‘Did you expect to continue leading so aimless an existence until some misguided fool came on the scene and took you off my father’s hands?’
Her pointed little chin went up, and the brown eyes glinted. It was with the greatest difficulty that she managed to retain command of her emotions.
‘I do not think,’ she told him with great dignity, ‘that my future can be of any interest to you. If and when I marry I’m sure my husband won’t be misguided in choosing me. I shall be his ideal, naturally, and in consequence he’ll overlook any faults he considers I have.’ She was staring up into her companion’s half-smiling countenance, naively unaware of the clear evidence of inexperience in her tones, and the innocent expression in her eyes. He merely looked down at her from his superior height, saying nothing, and she added, on a sudden impulse of honesty, ‘Perhaps it was an aimless existence, but�
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‘There’s no perhaps about it,’ from Charles with emphasis, and Tina gave a sigh of impatience. He couldn’t be civil if he tried, she thought, her gaze still on that lean bronzed face which now wore an inscrutable expression. But this could not mask the sternness there, nor the blue hardness of those eyes. Here was a man who, had he been in his father’s position—left with two children to bring up—would from the first have exerted a firm control over their lives and habits, just as he exercised supreme control here, on this vast holding of more than six thousand square miles in extent.
‘We were happy,’ she retorted challengingly, ‘and so was Father. You’ve spoiled all that.’
A faintly brittle pause and then,
‘You were happy just doing nothing?’ His tone drove colour to her cheeks, but although an indignant sparkle sprang to her eyes she continued to preserve a cautious silence. ‘How easily some people are satisfied.’ The jeer was just faintly discernible, but it was there, and Tina glanced away, temper straining at the bonds. The twilight had fallen while she and Charles had been talking and she looked across the darkening bushland to the foothills of the mountains beyond which the last glimpse of the magenta sunset could be discerned far below the purple vault of the sky. The diversion restored Tina’s control, as she had meant it to, but it had been a near thing. One day this sarcastic and insufferable man would surely try her too far ... and would surely learn that she had a temper! All would then be lost, the report he would send to Austin being just about as damaging as it could be. That this loss of control was what Charles was aiming for Tina had no doubt; nothing would afford him greater satisfaction than to bring about a permanent, and drastic, change in her way of living.
‘We didn’t have any other life with which to compare ours,’ she said defensively at last.
‘Hence the reason for your being here. In twelve months’ time you might just decide that the idle life was a waste.’