o 53f50dedf5bfd441

by Ria

  dinner, announcing that he would be flying to Durban the following day and

  that he wanted Janey to drive him to the airport.

  'I wouldn't like you to be left without transport,' he explained with a

  certain abruptness, £and Esme is seldom at home these days with the amount

  of lectures she has to attend.'

  'You're flying to Durban?' she asked stupidly, as she struggled to

  assimilate the facts.

  'There are a few problems at the Durban branch that need my attention,' he

  informed her, seating himself behind his desk and lighting a cigarette.

  'How long have you known that you would have to make this trip?' she

  asked, perching on the edge of her chair and wishing that she could rid

  herself of the peculiar feeling that she was hovering on the edge of a chasm.

  'Almost two weeks. Why?'

  'Just curious,' she shrugged with forced casualness. 'I was hoping we could

  fly down to Cape Town for Alison's wedding at the end of next week. She'll

  be flying to America with her husband, and I don't know when I shall see

  her again.'

  'I could arrange for us to go down next Thursday,' he said abruptly,

  consulting his desk calendar. 'Would that suit you?'

  'Yes, thank you.'

  She had not expected him to agree so readily to her request, and she was

  quite breathless with secret delight. . His glance was instantly mocking.

  'Will you miss me?'

  'That depends,' she said, controlling the tremor in her voice as she rose to

  her feet and walked across to the window to stare out into the darkness

  beyond. 'Are you going alone?'

  'I'm not taking anyone from the office with me, if that's what you mean,' he

  replied evenly.

  Not anyone from the office, she thought with an aching void in her heart,

  but Sybil! Did he think she would be foolish enough not to realise that this

  trip was planned with the purpose of having a few days alone with the

  woman he loved?

  She drew a careful breath. 'How long will you be away?'

  'Four, five days perhaps.' His hands came down on to her shoulders with a

  suddenness that made her jump, and the next instant she found herself

  facing him. 'What's the matter, Janey? You not only sound suspicious, you

  look it.'

  'I think I have reason to be.'

  'Do you?' His expression became guarded. 'Explain yourself.'

  'You don't need me to explain the situation to you!' she rasped out angrily,

  swinging away from him and heading for the door. But Rudolph was there

  before her, barring her way with a look of cold determination on his face

  that sent a shiver up her spine.

  'Janey, I won't let you out of this room until you explain what evil thoughts

  are running through that mind of yours.'

  There was a command in his voice which she found difficult to ignore as

  she faced him for interminable, tension- filled seconds.

  'If you must know,' she burst out, 'Sybil has been hinting that she'd like to

  spend a few days in Durban, and you've just told me that you're going there

  as well.' Her wavering smile bordered on cynicism. 'What fun if your visits

  should coincide!'

  His eyes narrowed perceptively. 'I know nothing of Sybil's intentions to fly

  down to Durban.'

  'Don't you?' she laughed, on the verge of slight hysteria.

  'Then how do you know she intends to fly down?'

  'My dear Janey,' he said with a touch of exasperation as he closed the door

  and leaned against it, 'Sybil never travels any other way, therefore it was a

  natural assumption on my part.'

  'You don't expect me to believe that, do you?'

  His eyes glittered strangely as he held her glance. 'I expect you to trust me.'

  Janey's, throat tightened and she swallowed with difficulty. 'I trusted you

  once before, and you failed me. Why should I trust you now?'

  The air between them was heavy-laden with conflicting emotions that

  threatened to overpower Janey as she lowered her nervous glance to the

  immaculate knot of his striped tie,

  'There are times, Janey, when I could willingly thrash you,' his voice grated

  along her nerves, 'and this is one of them.'

  'It wouldn't surprise me if you were the type to do just that,' she returned as

  a last defiant gesture.

  'Janey, you asked for this,' he said harshly as his arms locked about her

  slender waist. He raised her face roughly to his, and the onslaught of his lips

  on hers was an unexpected punishment that brought tears to her eyes as she

  lay curved helplessly over his arm. It had all been so sudden that he had

  given her no time to defend herself, and her release, when it came, was just

  as unexpected, and she would have fallen had he not gripped her elbows to

  steady her. 'Now you'd better go before I give you the thrashing you

  deserve ... and be ready at nine tomorrow morning to drive me to the airport.'

  With her confidence shattered and her lips bruised and throbbing, she fled

  up to her room, wishing she had not allowed her temper to get the better of

  her. She had condemned Rudolph without giving him the benefit of the

  doubt. It had been unforgivable of her and, despite her arguments to the

  contrary, she knew that she had deserved her punishment.

  While waiting at Jan Smuts airport for Rudolph's flight to be called, Janey

  plucked up enough courage to say what she had rehearsed so many times

  during the night.

  'Rudolph, I would like to apologise for jumping to conclusions last night,'

  she said in a voice just above a whisper. 'I'm sorry.'

  The merest suggestion of a smile hovered about his stern lips. 'An apology

  from you, Janey, is something so rare that I accept it without question.'

  The colour suffused her cheeks. 'Don't mock me!'

  'I would never dream of doing that,' he argued, placing a finger beneath

  her chin and raising her face to his. 'I meant every word.'

  Janey doubted this, but refrained from saying so as she avoided his intense

  scrutiny. It generally unnerved her to have him watch her so closely, for it

  felt as though he had the ability to delve into the most secret places of her

  soul.

  'I had a letter from your father yesterday,' he said abruptly, relieving the

  uncomfortable silence. 'He's taking the -job I offered him.'

  'I'm so glad,' she sighed happily. 'It was very kind of you to do this for

  him, because sitting about doing nothing would have killed him.'

  'I never offer jobs to anyone out of kindness,' he said harshly, shattering

  her illusions. 'Your father has the qualifications the job demands, and that's

  the only reason for my offer.'

  Janey nodded silently, realising for the first time how ruthless he could be.

  It was perhaps that quality which had enabled him to make such a success of

  a floundering business.

  At the other end of the departure lounge a raven-haired woman turned,

  and Janey's breath locked in her throat. She felt the blood draining from

  her face as Sybil's dark eyes challenged her momentarily, but the next

  instant she had disappeared, leaving Janey to wonder confusedly whether

  she had been an hallucination conjured up by her own stormy suspicions.

  There was an inexplicable chill in th
e air that made her shiver

  uncontrollably. The pleasure of these few moments with Rudolph was

  shattered by the knowledge that he was, after all, about to deceive her. His

  adamant protestations had been clever lies to cover up the fact that Sybil

  would accompany him on this flight for a clandestine meeting in Durban.

  'Janey?' His hand touched her shoulder, and she shrugged it off instantly

  as she backed away from him, but not before she had noticed his look of

  surprise. 'Is something the matter? You've gone very pale.'

  'It's nothing ... really nothing.'

  'Janey, if you're not feeling well

  '

  'I'm perfectly all right,' she protested irritably, biting her lip to steady it.

  'Please stop fussing, Rudolph.'

  'Well... if you're sure?' , 'Yes, I'm ...' She broke off suddenly as a female

  voice came smoothly over the loudspeaker system. 'That's your flight call,

  you'd better go.'

  'Janey?' he said, glancing at her uncertainly.

  She had to get away, she thought wildly. She had to get away before she

  burst into tears that could be embarrassing for both of them. She extended

  her hand towards him and, in a tight voice she said: 'Goodbye, Rudolph.'

  He looked at her strangely for a moment, a tight smile about his lips as

  he took her hand. 'Not goodbye, Janey,' he said, drawing her unexpectedly

  into a close embrace. 'Just tot siens.'

  She felt the pressure of his lips against her own and then he was gone,

  making his way towards the exit and disappearing from view. Janey

  remained where she was for a few moments longer. She had to make sure!

  Yes, there she was, her short red coat making her clearly discernible among

  the passengers boarding the flight for Durban.

  A sob rose in Janey's throat as she turned and made her way blindly to

  where Rudolph had parked his white Jaguar. Why? she asked herself as she

  slipped in behind the wheel. Why was he doing this to her? Why had he

  persisted in lying to her when she had confronted him with the truth?

  She drew a shuddering breath and clamped down viciously on the tears that

  threatened to flow as she drove back to Houghton. She had no idea what she

  would tell Mrs Brink and Esm6, but she was determined to terminate this

  farcical marriage. She would not give Rudolph the satisfaction of asking her

  to leave after deciding finally that it was Sybil he preferred, and she would

  not remain with him for the sake of duty

  !CHAPTER TEN

  THE sturdy old oaks were decked in their autumn shades of bronze and gold,

  shedding their leaves to lay a colourful carpet at Janey's feet, but the storm

  of passionate defeat in her heart made her blind to the beauty of her

  surroundings. This was her first autumn on the reef, and probably her last,

  for at that moment she longed desperately for the Cape with its familiar

  mountains and valleys, and the comforting presence of her parents.

  Esme met Janey in the hall, her green eyes widening with concern when

  she noticed Janey's windblown appearance and deathly pallor. She came

  forward instantly and took Janey's arm, encountering no resistance as she

  guided her through the living-room.

  'I have tea waiting on the patio,' she said persuasively. 'It's warmer there.'

  The sunlit patio with its crimson bougainvillaea ranking along the trellis

  was the ideal place when one searched for warmth and tranquillity. The tea

  steadied Janey's nerves considerably, except for the chilling sensation about

  her heart which remained as a reminder of her suffering.

  She was aware of Esme's curious glances, but, for the moment, she could

  not explain the reason for the bitterness that clutched at her soul, and

  strangled every vestige of hope. It was clear to her now that Rudolph and

  Sybil had intended to spend this time together in Durban, and Sybil had

  made sure that she knew about it. It had been planned this way, Janey

  realised, yet when she had confronted Rudolph with die truth the night

  before, he had denied it emphatically, and the deceit had continued.

  Sybil's unusual behaviour at the airport only confirmed Janey's

  suspicions, for, if it had been coincidence, she would not have wasted

  time in dashing to Rudolph's side with an elaborate display of

  possessiveness. It was usually a deliberate action to make Janey realise

  the insignificance of her position, yet Sybil had allowed the opportunity

  to pass by keeping out of sight.

  Janey listlessly followed the precarious progress of a beetle across a

  bougainvillaea leaf. It lost its footing and fell some distance before it was

  able to continue on its way towards the sap in the thick stem. How

  symbolic, she thought, her eyes filling with hot tears. For the second time

  in her life she had lost her foothold on love and was plummeting into the

  depths of despair.

  'Janey, what's troubling you?'

  Esme's voice sliced through her thoughts and silenced her for several

  tension-packed seconds before she finally said: 'Rudolph and Sybil are on

  the same flight to Durban, and I don't think it was merely coincidence.’

  Esme's expression clouded momentarily as she sprang to Rudolph's

  defence. 'They couldn't be planning an affair. He just wouldn't do such a

  thing, Janey. He's clever, and sometimes devious as a businessman, but as

  a person he's always painfully honest.' She drew closer and laid a sympa-

  thetic hand on Janey's arm. 'There must be a simple explanation which

  you've overlooked.'

  'Perhaps, but I'm not waiting around to find out,' Janey said

  determinedly. Nothing would dissuade her now that she had made up her

  mind.

  'Don't do anything foolish,' Esme begged, guessing shrewdly at Janey's

  thoughts. 'At least give him the opportunity to explain.'

  Janey shrank inwardly from the idea. 'I don't think I would care to hear

  him explaining that he wants to end our marriage.'

  'He wouldn't do that,' Esme contradicted without hesitation. 'Rudolph

  needs you.'

  Rudolph needs you. Oh, God, if it were only true, Janey thought,

  wringing her hands in despair. If there was the slightest possibility that they

  could make a success of their marriage, she would jump at the opportunity.

  But, with Sybil as a constant reminder of the love he had lost, it would be

  virtually impossible to build up a lasting relationship. She might be able to

  satisfy him physically, but it would be Sybil whom he turned to for love.

  She laughed mirthlessly as she rose to her feet. 'It's flattering to hear you

  say that Rudolph needs me, but I don't think I agree with you entirely.'

  Her arm was gripped firmly as she passed Esm6's chair, and a fragment of

  her anxiety was mirrored in the steady green gaze that was raised to hers.

  'Think carefully before you do something you might regret, Janey, and

  don't tell Mother just yet, will you?'

  Janey nodded briefly and escaped to her room. Alone in the oppressive

  silence of the west wing, her thoughts dwelled relentlessly on the events

  leading up to that moment. Every incident stood out with such clarity that

  she felt the pain and agony of it afresh. There was anger, resentment,

  frus
tration and regret; four emotions that sent her hurtling across the room

  to fling herself on to her bed. The sobs that shook through her body seemed

  to rip at her soul with a violence that sent hot tears cascading down her

  cheeks to dampen the pillow in which she had buried her face. She was

  weeping tears that would not bring relief—this she knew—but she could no

  longer control herself sufficiently to consider the situation rationally.

  This time there was no going back. She had been this way once before;

  shed these same tears, and thought these same thoughts. It should have

  been a lesson to her, yet she came up begging for more. She had carved a

  peaceful existence for herself and Andrew, but Rudolph's reappearance had

  put an end to it as swiftly as swatting a fly. She had not wanted to love him

  again, but she had not had much choice. She had never stopped loving him

  during those lonely months when she had carried the responsibility for her

  folly alone. Her love had penetrated the imaginary barrier of hate she had

  built up against him, and it had been accomplished with the swiftness of a

  knife slicing through butter.

  Her tears finally exhausted, she raised herself wearily and went through to

  the bathroom to freshen up. Her eyes were red and swollen, she noticed,

  grimacing as she glanced in the mirror. She felt broken and limp with

  fatigue, while her calm self-confidence, which she had always managed to

  uphold, appeared to have deserted her completely. Her most dominant

  thought at that moment was to flee from the cause of her unhappiness, and

  never to return.

  Dora had taken Andrew out for his usual walk in the grounds before lunch

  and, left with nothing to do, she found herself making her way up the steps

  to the attic in search of the quiet strength in Portia's grey glance.

  Ensconced in the plump cushions of the cane chair, Janey glanced up at

  the portrait and whispered brokenly, 'I've lost, as surely as if death had taken

  him from me.'

  The fragile wall of restraint crumbled once more, and Janey wept until she

  was left with nothing but the dreadful emptiness inside her, and a strange

  calmness that seemed to deaden the pain of loss. If this was to be the end,

  then she would meet it with acceptance, she decided when she finally closed

  the attic door behind her and retraced her steps to her room.