by Daphne Clair
'Thanks,' said Cade, his face taut with anger. 'A few minutes ago you weren't objecting. Why the sudden attack of virtue?'
She turned away so that he wouldn't see her face, and he gave a soft, exasperated exclamation. Then she sensed him behind her, and went rigid. But he only slid up the zip of her dress the last few inches and said more gently, 'I don't mean to hurt you. I shouldn't have said it. I shouldn't have forced you to come the way I did, but I wanted you with me, and when you didn't turn up, I got mad.'
'You always do, when you don't get your own way,' she said bitterly.
He didn't answer that, but after a moment she felt his hands on her shoulders, and his voice said in her ear, 'When I left here last time, I hoped I could get you out of my system before I got back. That was the plan, and the test was to be having you with me on tour. It was either that or—'
'Or what?' she asked as he hesitated.
'Or somehow make you listen to me, make you—feel the way I do. You told me, you'd become indifferent to me when we parted. This morning you said you didn't care—' His hands moved suddenly and turned her to face him. 'But you still feel something for me,' he said. 'You can't deny it—you wanted me just now. As I still want you.'
`Momentarily,' she admitted.
His hands tightened as though he would have liked to shake her. 'Listen!' he said tensely. 'Forget what I said about passion without love. Or at least believe I've learned something since I tried to make you see things my way. The other thing happened instead—with you, I began to see what love was all about. I discovered feelings I never knew I had. And sometimes that hurt. So I hurt you in turn, because when I'm hurt I lash out —it's an instinct that I'm trying to curb, especially since I found Rita. She's been hurt enough already.'
`Then how can you—'
'I didn't say I'm perfect! I said I try. We're good for each other, Rita and I, we've both been alone too long, with no one to belong to.'
'If she makes you happy,' Carissa whispered with an aching heart, 'I'm glad for you.'
`She does, of course. But she can't give me what it's in your power to give.'
`She loves you—'
'It isn't the same ... You know that. It took me a long time to get round to considering marriage, Carissa even when I left you, the thought was barely present, although I knew something irrevocable had happened to me. Rita helped to bring things into focus, to make me realise that love is a permanence. It has to be. We've given each other a lot, these last few months, but it isn't enough for me, Carissa. I wasn't ready to say this before, but now I have' to. I love you. Want ..need—all those, things the songs are all about, but most of all, I love you.'
Wide-eyed, she looked at the blaze in his eyes with bewildered pain. 'But, Cade!' she exclaimed. 'It's too late.'
She saw his jaw tighten and the movement in his throat as he swallowed. 'It's too late,' she repeated.
o
'I'm sorry—you'll have to make do with what Rita can give you.'
Because she wouldn't be a party to hurting Rita, who had been hurt enough. And Cade had no right to expect to have them both. It would make a mess of all their lives, as he should have seen. Even though she couldn't stop loving him, she had to admit he was still a selfish brute.
He dropped his hands from her shoulders and his face was bleak as he turned to go, the light in his eyes deadened. He didn't look at her again before the door clicked behind him.
CHAPTER TEN
IT wasn't difficult to avoid being alone with Cade the next day. He seemed just as anxious as she was not to have to speak to her. He seemed preoccupied and a trifle terse all day, as though he was controlling his temper with an effort, but she never heard him snap or raise his voice. "
In the afternoon the men went off for a rehearsal, and Carissa declared her intention of washing her hair.
`I'll set it for you,' Rita offered, and when Carissa demurred, insisted, Please—it will give me something to do.'
As Carissa sat before the dressing table in her bedroom, Rita combed out her hair, saying, 'I wanted to be a hairdresser once. That was before I ran away from home and became—something else instead.' She made a face. 'I expect Cade told you about me.'
`Cade hasn't told me anything,' said Carissa. 'Except that you've made him happy. Jack talked a bit, though. Do you mind?'
`Not really. Except for Cade's sake. I'm not proud of what I was, but as Cade says, I was young and hungry and unloved and unwanted. What else was there to do? I wish Johnny had been as understanding.'
Johnny?'
'My ex-husband. Oh, I guess I should have told him before I married him that I'd been—on the streets. Heavens, he knew I was no virgin. But I never cheated on him—not once. Even after he started beating me up regularly and making sure I had no money in the house, ever.'
'Oh, Rita—why?'
'Because that was the way he was, I guess. Oh, he said it was because some guy he met told him about my past, but I think he would have found another excuse anyway. He was that sort. If I hadn't been so desperate to grab some respectability for myself after being treated like dirt for ten years, I probably would have realised he was no catch as a husband. I guess I used him, in a way. So when he turned nasty I figured maybe I'd brought it on myself. But after four years I couldn't stick it any longer. I just walked out in the clothes I was wearing, no money, no nothing. Thank God, at least there were no kids, either.
'What did you do then?' asked Carissa.
' Rita met her eyes briefly in the mirror, put down the comb and began to plug in a blow-dryer. 'Went back to the only business I knew,' she said wryly.
'Was that what you were doing when you—when Cade—?'
'No, thank heaven. I got a little bit of money and found a place to live, not much, but a room—and then I got a job waitressing. It didn't pay much, but I kept my self-respect, what was left of it. I'll always be glad I had a decent job when Cade found me.' She smiled. 'It wasn't a particularly respectable place, mind. I didn't have any references when I was looking for a job, so I couldn't be too choosy. But at least the waitresses weren't expected to be served up to the patrons. It was a respectable job. I told Cade about my less respectable jobs later, when he said he wanted us to be together. I didn't want him to find out from someone else, and besides, it was only fair to give him a chance to change his mind Men are funny about these things—even those that patronise girls like—I was—they go through the ceiling if their wife or sister—you know?'
'But Cade didn't mind?'
'Mind?' Rita picked up a strand of hair and eyed it
thoughtfully before twirling it in her agile fingers. 'Yes, he minded. But he minded for me, not at me, if you know what I mean? Anyway,' she said, 'here am I boring you with the story of my life—'
'No, you're not.' But Carissa didn't want to hear any more reminiscences all the same. She was glad for Rita's sake that she had met Cade and was happy after what she had been through. But for her own she wished passionately that they had never met. And she was conscious of a stirring anger against Cade for his disloyalty to Rita, who deserved something better.
There was no getting out of attending the show with Rita. They sat in the seats reserved for them, and when the lights dimmed and a single spot picked out Cade walking on stage with his guitar, to the enthusiastic applause of the expectant audience, Carissa was carried back in time to a similar occasion in Sydney, years ago.
He sang one or two of the same songs, too, but most of them were newer numbers, and towards the end of the evening his eyes seemed to search the auditorium until he found where they were sitting, and he said quietly into the microphone, 'This is a new song—for Rita.'
It was a haunting little song with a simple but memorable melody. The words were really no more than variations on the theme of the two-line chorus: It's been a long, long time; I'm so glad I've found you now. -
When the last notes died away, the audience applauded madly, but Carissa's hands were tightly clasped
in her lap, and Rita was wiping away tears, but smiling at the same time.
Then Cade was speaking again. 'This one,' he said, 'is even more new. Very new.' He paused. 'It's for another girl—' The audience laughed, but Cade gave no answering smile. 'It's called, Goodbye, Darling Deceiver.'
Carissa knew he was singing to her, that this was his way of telling her it was all over,. Her throat ached with the effort not to cry as she watched him, his fingers softly stroked the guitar strings, and bittersweet words of love and farewell drifted into the darkness beyond the spotlight ... So you're leaving me—but I still love you—my darling deceiver.
Rita and Carissa were expected backstage after the performance Carissa hung back as Rita wriggled through the crowd surrounding Cade, and put her arms around his neck to kiss his cheek. 'Thank you for my song,' she laid. 'It's beautiful.'
Carissa looked away, and found Jack Benton nearby, staring at her with a puzzled look on his face. He came over to her and said quietly, 'Did you turn Cade down, or something?'
Of course, Jack had unearthed that odd meaning of her name. He must know the song was meant for her:
Carissa tried to smile. 'Don't be silly, Jack. He just used my name to build a song, that's all. He sang one for Rita, too.'
'Oh, sure. But a different kind of song
A love song.'
:Well, that's how the public will sing it, of course, a boy–girl lyric. But you know it wasn't a love song—not like the one he sang for you.'
'I don't see the difference—except that one was hello and the other—goodbye.'
'Well, of course there's a difference, when you know Rita's his sister—I mean, that's the difference, isn't it? Look, did you have to turn him down? He's not perfect, but he's been a good 'brother to Rita since he found her again—he's changed, I told you that. He would be a good husband— Are you all right?'
Carissa had hardly heard anything since that single word, sister. The room seemed to contract about her and expand again. She felt a little dizzy, dazed.
`But I didn't know,' she said. `No one told me.' Jack stared uncomprehendingly. 'Told you what?' `That Rita was Cade's sister.'
`But you said he'd written and told you about her.' `No, I said he'd asked us to book for her. He didn't
even say it was a woman we were to book for. Just—
the number of rooms.'
`But I told you all about her
`Yes, except who she was. And I think Cade thought you had told us all about her, in the cab from the airport. He asked me if you had, and I said yes.'
`So who did you think she was?'
`His wife. When I found out what her name was.' `And before that, you thought—' Jack looked knowing.
'Oh, Jack!' she said, remembering. 'I've thought—I've said some appalling things to Cade.'
`Then you'd better unsay them.'
'I couldn't begin to ...'
`Do you love him?'
She didn't answer, looking across the room at the
dark head bent to hear something Rita was saying. His eyes on her face, Jack cleared his throat and
said, 'And he's just told the whole world he loves you.
Leave it to me.'
He miraculously found her a place to sit, and within fifteen minutes the room was cleared, the band had left, and Jack had hustled Rita into a taxi and left Cade and Carissa to share another.
It was a mild night. The day had been crisp but sunny and there were hazy stars in the sky, and the harbour was hung about with the lights on the crescent shore.
They didn't speak as the car drove smoothly round the harbour. Carissa glanced at Cade's remote profile, that told her nothing, and at the back of the driver's head, and wondered where to start. Jack had manoeuvred them together and then left them to it. But how did one go about trying to sort out such a tangle as she had made?
Cade stopped the taxi before they reached the hotel, and she got out without protest when he opened the door and held it for her.
He turned her towards the beach, she had brought a warm woolly jacket, but her shoes were hardly suitable for beach walking. She stumbled on to the silvery sand, and his hand came out to grip her arm and steady her, only to fall away immediately.
'I'm assuming Jack wouldn't have been able to arrange this if you hadn't been willing,' said Cade.
'No. I—did want to talk to you.'
'About what?'
`You—and me—and Rita,' she said, echoing his own words of the day before.
He stopped walking and turned to her. 'I seem to remember,' he said, 'that Rita is a subject that got us into a lot of strife yesterday—and before.'
'That was—before,' she said. 'Before Hound out that
Rita was your sister. I thought she was your wife, Cade. He was silent for fully half a minute, seeming almost
stunned. `My—wife!' he said slowly, at last. 'What on earth made you think that?'
She explained, and he listened in apparent disbelief -at first, then finally exploded. 'Of all the stupid misunderstandings! I didn't want to put it in a letter, but I thought you'd be pleased I'd located Rita. I wanted to tell' you myself all about it, and when Jack got in first I was annoyed. I'd told him I'd do it, but I suppose when you said you'd heard from me, he assumed I'd given you the news.'
`That seems to be it,' she agreed.
He was looking at her keenly, and she thought she knew what he was thinking of—yesterday, and the
cross-purposes they must have been at then. Suddenly shy, she asked, 'How did you find Rita, exactly?'
'Through Gomez. His daughter was named Rita, and I asked him if it had any connection with the childhood friendship between his wife and my sister. It turned out that they'd kept in touch for a few years, with very occasional letters. That was enough for a private detective to start working on the case, and eventually he traced her. I had advertised, too, but she —she thought I might not want to know her.' His voice had roughened, and she said gently:
'It wasn't true what you told me about only helping Gomez to save your skin, was it? It really was for Rita's sake, all along.'
'I could never quite forget I had a sister,' he said. 'I never managed to stop wondering what she was doing, whether she was okay. I guess I had some twisted idea that if I helped Carlotta out, someone might do the same for Rita, one day, if she needed it.'
'Why did you tell me Carlotta wasn't—as virtuous as you let her husband think?'
'Because I was trying to hurt you—to get a reaction that would tell me if you really hated me, or were covering up for something else.'
`then it wasn't true?'
'She wanted money badly. She offered me—whatever I wanted in return. And it wasn't the first time she'd sold herself to a man. There was no need to tell Gomez that.'
Carissa felt cold and sick. 'I see,' she said flatly.
His hands suddenly gripped her arms, his voice was savage. 'No, you don't see!' he gritted. 'As a matter of fact, I turned down her offer and gave her the money, anyway. That surprises you, doesn't it? You think I can't walk past a pretty woman without grabbing her and dragging her into my bed! Well, I walked past that one. She had been beautiful once, but worry and lack
of money do spoil a woman's looks. I didn't find her all that attractive, so I didn't sleep with her! '
'Cade, stop it!' she cried. ,'I'm sorry—'
He dropped his hands and turned abruptly away from her, staring across the dark, moon-dusted water.
She watched him, for a few minutes, then moved to put her hand on his arm. 'I don't think that of you,' she said. 'But—oh, Cade! How you do lash out. You told me you were trying to change.'
She felt his arm stiffen, and then he turned and pulled her close.
'Yes, I do,' he said. 'And I am.' His lips touched her cheek lightly and she wondered if he remembered slapping her. 'I told you a lot of other things too,' he said. `Do I have to repeat them all?'
`Like what?'
'Like—I love you. And I
want to marry you—' His head suddenly came up and he stared at her. 'How could you think Rita was my wife, when I was talking of marrying you?'
'But you didn't!' she protested. 'You said when you met me you began thinking of love—and then Rita made you consider marriage! '
'Did I? Yes, I suppose I did say something like that. :Well, don't misunderstand this, my darling. I want you to be my wife. Will you?'
`Yes. Yes, Cade.'
He made her wait for his kiss, looking down at the pale hair falling over wool-covered shoulders, the shining eyes, darkly mysterious in the moonlight, then bending his head slowly as though savouring the anticipation before their lips met and eagerly parted. His hands moved beneath the jacket, replacing its neutral warmth with passionate caresses, but when the jacket slipped and bared her shoulders to his seeking mouth, she shivered in the cool air.
Thickly, he said, 'You're cold, darling. We'll go back
to the hotel. And this time there'll be no fighting."
She stood in silence as he pulled the jacket about her and looked down at her,' her head bent so that she wasn't looking at him. His hands cupped her face and turned it up to him, his eyes narrowed and glinting.
Percipiently, he said, 'You'd rather wait, wouldn't you? You want to be married first.'
Hesitantly, she said, 'Is that silly? When we've already—? It isn't that I don't trust you, Cade, please don't think that.'
'What is it, then?'
'I suppose—when I was seventeen, I thought my parents' values were old fashioned, that I knew better. But, the truth is, I've never felt it was right, what I did then. Perhaps because it happened for all the wrong reasons.
'Mine were more wrong than yours..At least you only wanted to give—if not love, at least the nearest you were capable of at the time.
'What did you want, Cade? You said "a girl for the night", but was it true?'
'Not quite. Any girl wouldn't have done—I wanted you, yes. But I would have waited if there'd been time. We seemed so short of time, and I wanted sortie way of holdiiik you, of making you remember me, until I could get in touch withiyou again. I meant to get your address and somehow see you again—even make a flying visit to New Zealand before we went home after the tour. Then when I found out how young you were, it all became impossible.'