by Anne Hampson
‘You’re not getting tired, dear?’ Austin had put the question several times during the evening, but on this occasion he was overheard by his son who, with Moira close by his side, was also partaking of a snack. They were standing to one side of Tina and her father, and it was inevitable that Charles should turn his head and subject Tina to one of his sardonic looks. Hastily she said,
‘No, Father, I’m not in the least tired,’ and Charles whispered in her ear,
‘You’ll lose ground like this. Far more strategic to feign an air of fatigue.’
Naturally she went red, but as the lights at this end of the barn were shaded, the fact escaped Austin, for which Tina was exceedingly grateful.
The four got into conversation and the incident passed, forgotten by Charles, no doubt, thought Tina, but not by her. She still smarted but, strangely, she had no immediate desire to retaliate, even had the opportunity arisen.
‘Shall we dance, Tina?’ The invitation, coming as they all finished eating and drinking, took Tina completely by surprise. She had not expected Charles to take any interest in her at all.
‘Yes—’ She was whirled away in his arms, her pulses racing and her heart thudding in the strangest kind of way.
‘I expect you’re wondering why I should want to dance with you?’
Again she was given a surprise. She nodded automatically and was told that it was merely for effect. He was not intending to make things easy for her by pointedly leaving her out while he danced with all the other girls present. His father was bound to notice if he did.
‘Oh,’ she cried, actually coming to a stop right in the middle of the floor, ‘that’s the most unkind thing you’ve said to me yet! I shan’t dance with you now!’ And she would have gone to the lengths of humiliating him by striding away, but she was prevented by his grip on her wrist.
‘No, you don’t, my girl.’ Soft tones yet menacing; he swung her round again, out of the way of other couples. ‘For once you’re not having things all your own way. See, Father’s watching us, so smile at me and let him think we’re friends.’
‘He knows very well that we’re not friends,’ she retorted swiftly.
‘Because of the lies you’ve told him.’ Suddenly there was a hint of bitterness in his voice, which was not like anything Tina would have expected of him. ‘I hope, Tina, that you’ll be wholly satisfied with the results of your treachery.’
‘Results?’ with a quickening of her pulse. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You’ll find out soon enough,’ was all the answer she received, and although she questioned him again he proffered no further information.
It was Austin who brought the whole situation home to her the following afternoon when he told her that he was curtailing his stay with his son and returning to England.
‘And you’re coming with me,’ he told her, his voice faintly hoarse and his eyes darkened with a dull unhappy glaze.
‘But what’s happened?’ The offer to take her home was as wormwood in her mouth, for she knew even before her father spoke that she had been the cause of a rift between him and Charles.
‘Charles and I have had our first quarrel ever,’ he told her unhappily. ‘I questioned him about his treatment of you and he denied nothing. I told him straight that although I’d sent you out here to learn something about the important things in life, I hadn’t expected him to treat Moira like a hot-house plant and you like a slave. I had already made Moira talk and she admitted that Charles had in fact made this great difference between you. She wouldn’t say, but I gathered that he’s attracted to her—just as I at first suspected—and that’s the reason why she’s had so easy and comfortable a time while you, poor child, have been treated almost cruelly. Why didn’t you let me know, dear? I’d have been over here long before now.’
Appalled at what she heard, Tina could only stare, unable to interrupt even though her one burning desire was to do so, to tell Austin that he had it all wrong; that Charles had not treated her cruelly. She did manage to do so at last, but to her horror her admissions were received by a shaking of Austin’s head and his quiet refusal to believe what she said.
‘But it’s the truth!’ she persisted frantically. ‘I wanted you to take me home, so I pretended to be worse than I was—’
‘You couldn’t pretend about the lost weight, my love,’ he interrupted in gentle tones.
‘I did lose weight, yes, but Charles was terribly worried once he had noticed it. He made me go to bed early and rest; and once he brought me a milk drink up himself. He made me eat with him—but I wouldn’t eat, because I wanted to be thin when you came. Oh, you must believe me—you must. I’ll never forgive myself if you don’t!’
He shook his head again.
‘It’s generous of you to take all the blame, Tina, but your words are not convincing. I know how you feel, dear, being the indirect cause of my alienation from my son, but—’
‘I’m the direct cause of it. I’ve been horrid and wicked, even, in trying to deceive you. Charles knew what I was about, and that was why he was saying that day that he’d like to beat me.’ Sudden tears started to her eyes as she noted the set face of her father. ‘I deserve that he should beat me—’
‘Nonsense! You shall not talk so. Charles has upset me by his callous treatment of you—my beloved Janice’s daughter—’
‘Father,’ she broke in imploringly, ‘don’t mention Mother! Please don’t. I’m wicked, I tell you! Charles kept me out of the kitchen once he realized it wasn’t agreeing with me, and—and as for how I looked when you arrived—it was all an act, truly. I put black rings under my eyes—I did, I tell you, so don’t adopt that sceptical manner!’
‘Tina love, you’re the last person to do anything so deceitful as to put black rings under your eyes. Why, a trick like that would be conceived only by a scheming little bitch.’
‘That’s what I was—a scheming little bitch. But I had no idea it would all end like this. Why did I get the idea?’ she cried, speaking to herself more than to him. ‘If only I could go back!’ Tears streamed down her face and she swept them away with the back of her hand. ‘You must believe me, Father,’ she pleaded in much quieter tones. ‘I’ve told you nothing but the truth. I wanted to go home with you. I thought that if you saw that I was looking ill, and concluded that I’d been worked too hard, then you would decide to take me home when you returned to England. But I never, never foresaw my causing any real disunity between you and Charles. He’s your real son, your own flesh and blood, and we’re not! He comes first with you—he must!’
‘He never came first after I married your mother. You were all equal. But now I feel I never want to see Charles again. If I hadn’t come when I did you’d soon have been dangerously ill.’
‘I wouldn’t. I’ve just told you that once Charles noticed I’d lost weight he made me keep out of the kitchen.’
‘It’s no use, Tina. And another thing which I heard, and which appalled me. Moira says that you were almost killed by a scrub bull, and that Charles’s reaction to that was merely to say you were lying. Can you say you were lying?’
She sagged. What could Moira have been thinking about to mention that!
‘It was entirely my own fault. I went out into the bush and got lost. Charles had warned me not to lose sight of the homestead lights, but I did. The wild bull did come, but to say I was almost killed is ridiculous; the bull came close, but then he went off again, and that’s the story I told to Moira.’
‘Charles was not in the least perturbed, though?’
Helplessly she spread her hands.
‘Why should he be? I was safe and sound when he found me.’
Ignoring that, Austin said,
‘Had that bull got you, Tina, my life would have been ruined. In fact, I doubt if I would have survived the shock. Charles knows how deeply I love you and Moira, and he knew just how your—your death would have affected me—especially so terrible a death as that—’
‘I didn�
�t die,’ she broke in impatiently. ‘As for Charles’s scepticism—well, it was excusable. He was very angry with me at the time, and he had every right to be because I’d disobeyed his orders. No one ever takes chances in the bush—I’m sure you know that. Everyone on the station was out looking for me. I deserved that Charles should be angry.’ She stopped, watching his expression. It remained set, and she felt a flood of despair and helplessness sweep over her. ‘I’m not letting you fall out with Charles because of me,’ she said determinedly. ‘I’ll make you believe me!’
‘Nothing will make me believe that you practised the sort of deceit to which you’re admitting. I know you too well, my dear.’ He paused as if expecting her to speak, but she was in tears again. ‘Don’t cry, Tina, child. I’m seeing how soon we can leave here. I asked Moira if she wanted to come home, but she prefers to stay until the end of the twelve months. I expect it’s owing to the attention Charles is paying her.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
For the next couple of hours Tina fumed inwardly at her inability to convince Austin that she alone was guilty, and his son blameless. What a spiteful, scheming little cat she had been, she told herself as, sitting by the open window of her bedroom, she became wrapped in a cloak of self-recrimination. To have caused all this trouble—and hurt to the man she loved best in the whole world—all because of a burning desire to leave Farne River Downs ... and Charles.
Suddenly her nerves tingled as the most odd idea sprang from this thought about leaving Charles. Stunned by the growing strength of the idea, she rose hastily and paced the room in a sort of frantic endeavour to cast off the staggering truth which was insistently thrusting itself into her consciousness.
In love with Charles...? Impossible! She disliked him intensely; she had never got on with him and had not the least desire to do so...
It was no use; the issue could not be avoided. For so much was explained by an admission that she cared for the formidable Boss of Farne River Downs. With a back-switch of memory she experienced again that suffusing warmth which Charles’s concern had caused to spread over her on that day when he had come upon her in the bush; she remembered her pleasure at being with him, and the subsequent occasions when excitement had held her in its grip, when her pulses bounded inexplicably and emotions darted into unfathomable channels. Then there were the occasions when she had felt so hurt by his sarcasm or indifference—’ Yes, it was all explained with such clarity that her own lack of perception amazed her. She should have known long ago. And had she known, then this rift between Charles and his father would never have occurred, simply because she would not have been so ready to put him in a bad light with Austin.
Guilt fought with bitter despair. What chance had she now? Even if Moira had not found favour with him he would never for one moment have looked at her, Tina—not after what she had done. Her shame increased as she remembered that Charles had made not the slightest effort to clear himself in his father’s eyes. Tina, knowing a little of his character, could without effort see his pride in the ascendancy. This, plus the hurt he must have felt that his father would willingly accept his stepdaughter’s story without even giving his own son an equal hearing, would be more than sufficient to put a brake on any self-defensive action that might otherwise have been made. If his father chose to believe Tina, then let him! Yes, that would without doubt be the attitude Charles would take.
For a long while Tina remained in her room, returning to the chair by the window and staring out across the wide green spinifex plains to the gradually darkening outline of the mountains. She had told her father she was taking a rest, but sleep was impossible, with this awareness of what she had done pressing like a leaden weight against her heart and mind. If she loved Charles, and was to suffer in consequence, then it served her right. She was wicked, as she had told Austin, and on a sudden impulse she at last rose and went in search of Charles. He was not anywhere about outside; Bernie came riding towards the home paddock and she asked if Charles were out there, on the range, but Bernie shook his head. He would have kept Tina in conversation, but she excused herself and went back to the house. As she entered the hall she noticed that there was now a yellow path of light slanting out from the half-open door of Charles’s study and she went towards it. Her knock was answered and she entered, pale and contrite and more than ready to ask his pardon. On seeing who had come into the room Charles’s face became an unpleasant mask and he deliberately resumed his perusal of whatever had been holding his attention before she knocked on his door.
‘May I talk to you, Charles?’ she faltered, moving rather slowly into the centre of the room and standing some small distance from the large desk at which he sat.
After a long and almost unendurable moment his dark head was raised.
‘Is it anything important?’ he asked with a frown. ‘You can see that I’m busy.’
She caught her lip between her teeth, blinking at him and feeling inordinately put out by his manner. ‘It’ll take some time—what I have to say, I mean.’ With unconcealed disdain he swept her a glance. But she saw also that his attention was arrested. Dropping his pen on to the blotter, he leant back in his chair, his eyes flickering over her for a space before he spoke.
‘You’d better sit down, Tina—’ A flip of his hand to indicate a chair, as he continued, ‘What is it you want to say to me?’
This was slightly more encouraging; she managed somehow to keep her voice steady as she said,
‘First of all, I want very much to apologize for acting as I have. Father tells me that you and he have quarrelled—and it’s all my fault. I tried to make him understand this, but unfortunately, he won’t believe me.’ She stopped, automatically sitting down on the edge of the chair and watching for any sign of a relaxing of his stern set features. She saw his eyes narrow, and there was a strange movement in the side of his jaw which fascinated her but for which she could find no explanation. It was as if he were affected emotionally—but as this was not at all in character she instantly dismissed the idea.
‘Am I to take it that you are not, after all, satisfied with the results of your treachery?’
She averted her head.
‘I know now what you meant,’ she murmured huskily. ‘I had no idea that you and Father would quarrel. I wanted to leave here, to go home with Father, but I’d rather have stayed here for ever than have this happen.’ She was inordinately distressed, and this did not escape him; but the bitterness she had seen last evening returned and as she raised her head and saw his expression Tina despaired of ever winning his pardon.
‘It’s a great pity,’ he said at length, the bitterness within him reflected in his voice, ‘that you didn’t stop to consider what the results of your deceit might be. It so happens that my father prefers to take your word before mine—’
‘You didn’t defend yourself,’ she interrupted almost accusingly. ‘Why didn’t you tell him that I was putting on an act?’ This was all very inconsistent, she knew, since originally she had actually feared a retaliatory action by Charles, as it would impair her chances of persuading Austin to take her away from here. But now all she desired was to convince Charles of her sincerity. ‘You say he’s taken my word before yours—but he hasn’t, because you’ve never given him your version of the story.’
His mouth compressed.
‘I don’t stoop to begging for a hearing,’ he replied stonily. ‘If Father is so great a fool as to be taken in by you, then that’s entirely his affair. Had he desired to hear my version then obviously he would have asked for it.’
So it was just as she had concluded; Charles’s pride had played its grim part in the situation. It seemed to Tina that all three of them had been at fault, although she did not try to shift any of the blame, since she and she alone had been the prime mover, and had she only stopped to think she must have foreseen that a rift between father and son would be caused.
‘If only you’d dropped your pride, and vindicated yourself,’ she murmured, speaking
her thoughts aloud and only semi-conscious of the fact that Charles would hear.
‘I’ve just told you, I don’t stoop to begging for a hearing!’ At the acid bite in his tones she actually flinched. She could find nothing to say for the moment and Charles went on, ‘I must say that this contrition leaves me faintly suspicious. I can hardly believe that, after all the trouble you went to in order to hoodwink my father, you are now anxious to undo the damage you’ve done.’
‘I’ve been talking to Father for a long while,’ she told him, her eyes wide and frank as they looked into his dark unyielding ones. ‘I tried desperately to convince him that I was entirely to blame for the quarrel. I admitted—admitted— She broke off, she had to, for she was plunged into embarrassment at the idea of mentioning the deliberate applying of the ‘black shadows’ under her eyes. However, determined to spare herself nothing, she did at length manage to finish what she was saying, and she went on to tell Charles everything that she had told her father. ‘I even told him that you’d brought me up some milk—’ Tina allowed her voice to trail away into a rather self-conscious silence. There seemed to be no reason at all for mentioning this small incident to Charles ... and yet she was under no illusions as to why it was so important to her. It had been a friendly, concerned act and one from which she had derived pleasure and a feeling of well-being. Her cheeks coloured prettily and her soft lips quivered now as if manifesting her thoughts, which were a mingling of pleasure and pain. Watching her through hard and narrowed eyes, Charles seemed once again to be affected by emotion. He swallowed, and his lower lip rolled slightly, becoming fuller—and softer. For no reason at all the mannerism brought back the memory of that moment in the bush when, leaning idly and comfortably against a tree, Charles had appeared to soften towards her for one brief interlude. He had adopted an attitude of interest which had culminated in his noticing, for the first time, how thin she had become.
