Anne Hampson - Call of The Veld

by Anne Hampson

  'I can't bear it when she tells me she's lonely, when she cries…'

  'Does she cry when you visit her?'

  'She did on Wednesday, sobbed piteously. You'd gone home, if you remember, to take a message to Carl from Ray.'

  'Yes, that's right. And Irma was crying?' Sara's eyes, wide and intense, were still fixed on his face. 'She's been confiding in you?'

  'Almost from the first. She's madly in love with that——— With her husband, but I'll tell you this, Sara, he isn't in love with her! Just imagine, falling out of love with her in so short a time—and only because she's crippled! If it were me—why, I'd love her all the more. I'd work for her, to provide her with all sorts of comforts————- '

  'Bernard, don't,' begged Sara, feeling so weighed down by other people's problems that she felt she could not take any more. 'You're crucifying me I'

  Startled, he looked at her, his eyes shadowed as a tinge of guilt entered into him.

  'That's a strong word, Sara.'

  'I've so much———— ' She stopped as the dark-skinned waitress appeared at the table, notepad in hand. 'Just tea and a scone for me, please.'

  'I'll have the same. Bring a pot of tea for two and a plate of scones, please.'

  'Jam and cream?'

  'Yes—Do you want jam and cream, Sara?' She shook her head. 'Just for one, then,' he said, waiting until the waitress had gone before saying,

  'You've so much to bear? Is that what you were about to tell me?'

  'I'm just as hurt as you by Irma's unhappiness, Bernard, and there are other things as well. And now you ——- Oh, you shouldn't have fallen in love with her!' she cried distractedly. 'I'm going to worry about you now, and your being hurt!' How little she had known, when she had met him and been so glad of his company, that she was going to hear his tragic confession that he was in love with her sister.

  'You needn't,' he assured her. 'I shall find happiness in being with her sometimes. We're becoming very good friends and our friendship will grow with the years——————-'

  'But, Bernard, you'll want to marry, surely?'

  He shook his head emphatically.

  'I shall never marry—unless I marry her.'

  Sara shook her head; this was love at its most sacred.

  'You'd marry her—were she free?'

  'Without a moment's hesitation,' answered Bernard, and Sara knew that he really meant it.

  'You say that you and my sister are very good friends. But I have to warn you, Bernard, that this friendship hasn't brought about any change in her; she's still dreadfully depressed.'

  'I know it I Haven't I just said so? It's because she's in love with Ray—she worships him, but she knows, Sara, that he doesn't return her love.'

  Sara said nothing; she was relieved to know that Irma had not said anything to Bernard about her, Sara, being in love with Ray.

  But was she in love with Ray…? The question did not astound her as it would have done a short while ago. She had seen a very different side of Ray recently, a side that was far from attractive.

  To her, marriage was forever; it carried obligations, and even though she and Carl had only entered into it as a business partnership, she would take good care of him if ever he should need her care, and she was sure that Carl would do the same for her.

  He had returned when Sara arrived home; she looked earnestly into his face, half inclined to tell him everything that had happened that day. But he appeared distant and impersonal, and in any case she decided it wasn't quite the thing to tell her husband that her brother-in-law had confessed his love for her. But the burden pressed heavily upon her and she suddenly felt a great anger rising within her. She had been given this haven by Carl and yet she was unable to take advantage of the peace it offered. At first, when she had taken up this new life, there had been a lightening of the oppression that had plagued her, simply because, when she arrived home after her day spent at the farm, she was able to relax, feeling satisfied that her duty had been done and therefore she could forget her troubles until the next morning. As a result of this changed routine Sara had felt different both mentally and physically, her mind free from the continual nagging consciousness of Irma's plight, and her body not being so tired that she had craved for the moment when she could fall into bed.

  'What's wrong, Sara?' Carl asked the question as they sat on the verandah after dinner, drinking their coffee. 'You look troubled about something.'

  'It's Irma,' she answered, aware of a little access of gratitude towards him for noticing that something was not quite right. 'I…' She checked slowly, filled with a great yearning to unburden herself, and yet still reluctant to impart the information she had been given that day. 'I wish there was some means by which she could be made to leave that bed.'

  'I've been thinking about that myself,' he returned reflectively. 'I'm willing to get her one of those wheelchairs you've been talking about. I feel that if we get it first and tell her afterwards she might be more inclined to try it out.' Carl looked at his wife, and a faint smile softened the austerity of his features as he saw the wide- eyed expression of gratitude on her face.

  'Carl, you're so good and kind. Will you really buy one of those chairs?'

  'Of course I will.'

  She was excited suddenly, forgetting for a while all the other problems that confronted her.

  'Where can we get it? How long will it take?' 'I shall have to order it, but I'll see Irma's doctor first and get his advice. Leave it all to me, Sara. It'll take a little time, though, so don't expect Irma to be moving around Njangola Farm by Christmas, will you?'

  'Of course not.' She was full up, on the verge of tears. 'I'm so grateful to you, Carl,' she quivered. 'You see, although I'd kept on thinking about the chair, I really didn't know where the money would come from to buy it.' She could have added that her own savings had dwindled alarmingly since she came to the farm, because of Ray's inability to pay her anything yet awhile, and so her first idea of buying the chair out of her own money had had to be abandoned. Carl was speaking, telling her that gratitude was totally unnecessary; he was her husband, therefore it was his duty to do all in his power to lighten Sara's anxiety over her sister. Then he said, looking at her with an odd expression,

  'Are you sure, Sara, that you haven't something else on your mind?'

  The merest hesitation and then, shaking her head, 'No, Carl, I have nothing else on my mind.' He wasn't satisfied; his penetrating gaze seared into her for a space and she found it impossible to hold that gaze. She lowered her lovely lashes, picking up her coffee cup and taking a drink. To her relief she heard her husband say, 'Well, if you're quite sure, my dear.' And after a little pause, 'How about a stroll in the garden?'

  She smiled then and finished her coffee. She was always ready for a stroll in the gardens of Ravenspark.

  They left the verandah and made for the far side of the garden where the swimming-pool was situated. It was a soft and balmy summer evening with the purple sky flaring with constellations and the pale filigree of the Milky Way trailing into the supernal infinities of space. The bushveld—that enormous prairie of grassy scrubland—lay spread out in drowsy silence beneath an argent covering of moonglow, its distant limits misty and darkening to the horizon's edge. Mystery and magic and the primeval peace—at once sensuous and serene— added to the impression of unreality which Sara had experienced on such another occasion as this. She glanced covertly up into her husband's face, profoundly conscious of his attractions, his finely-chiselled profile silhouetted in the moonlight. Her husband…

  A tenseness gripped her suddenly as thoughts shot erratically through her mind, thoughts of Carl and the pleasure she had had from his company, of Ray and her new awareness that his handsome veneer bore no relation to what was underneath, of the times she had envied her sister during her courtship with Ray, then her thoughts swept back to Carl, and that night when he had kissed her, to the holiday, to the cold-blooded proposal of marriage. And now, with the tens
eness increasing, she knew a fierce, almost angry resentment that her relationship with her husband was such that any approach on her part was impossible. She had not even the right to slip her hand into his, nor to whisper any tender endearment…

  What thoughts were these? Why was her heart beating overrate like this? And the yearning deep within her for some sort of physical comfort… why should it hurt so much simply because the physical comfort was denied her? She had accepted the business arrangement which she and Carl had made, and it had never even entered her head that she would ever want more than her husband was willing to give. Much less had it occurred to her that his attractions as a man would have this sort of effect on her. He turned his head, obviously sensing her interest, and she turned swiftly from her observation of his face and looked towards the pool, shining in the moonlight. But she knew he was staring at her head, knew he was curious to know why she had been staring at him. However, he made no comment, but merely walked slowly towards the pool.

  'Have you been in for a swim yet?' he asked her presently, when the pool was reached and they stopped beside it.

  'No, not yet. There hasn't been much time.'

  'I did say, Sara, that you were to have your week-ends at home.'

  'Yes, but Irma's asked me to go over———— '

  'Perhaps she has, but it's what I say that goes. I've been working for the past two week-ends, so I" haven't made any fuss about your going over to Njangola. But it was not what I planned—you and I having little or no time together. In future, Sara,' he went on in a voice of authority, 'you will have your week-ends at home, with me.'

  'With you?' A little breathless her tone, and that racing of her heart again. 'You w-want me to be with you, Carl?'

  He smiled faintly but, she thought, without humour.

  'If we're to have children, Sara, then we ought to get to know one another, don't you think?'

  'I see.' Her throat seemed to ache all at once, and her heart dragged within her. 'I'd forgotten—somehow— about the—the children I'm's-supposed to—to give you.' She had coloured with embarrassment, but her chief emotion was one of bitter disappointment. She had been fool enough to believe that he really desired her company during the week-ends, wanted it because it gave him pleasure to be with her. But this was not so; he was as cold-blooded as ever as regards his relationship with her. He had married her for a purpose, and he intended to see that she fulfilled the obligations which the marriage demanded of her.

  He made no comment on her statement that she had forgotten about the children, and for this she was grateful. A caustic remark at this time would surely have resulted in her bursting into tears.

  After standing by the pool for a few minutes Carl suggested they return to the house. It was not what Sara wanted, but she had no option other than to agree, and she fell into step beside him as they wandered back the way they had come, wandered through air filled with the honey-fragrance of flowers which, as always, gave her a sort of sensory pleasure. When they reached the verandah Carl stood looking down at his wife, an unreadable expression in his eyes. She stared, her pulse throbbing, her whole body quivering with a vague unfathomable expectancy.

  'You're very lovely, Sara.' Softly-spoken words, and the lazy eyes moved from Sara's face to her hair, and then down to the gentle swell of her throat above the low-cut dress of coral lace and net. She saw a muscle vibrate at the side of his neck, saw the movement of his lips and waited, breathless, for him to voice the words hovering there. But abruptly he turned away and she knew for sure that a dark and heavy frown had settled on his forehead.

  'It's time we went in,' he said at length. 'I've got to be up early in the morning; we're still felling, and will be for another week at least.'

  Five minutes later Sara was standing by the window of her room, staring out into the purple night, her eyes unseeing as she dwelt on the revelation that had just come to her.

  In love with Carl… The husband whose only interest in her was that of using her to provide him with a son—and other children besides, it would seem. In love. How could she have been so foolish? She did not ask herself how she had come to fall out of love with Ray, since she was now freely admitting that what she felt for him was nothing more than infatuation. He would never have done for her; she needed a man with depth to his character, a sincere man and loyal, a man who would honour the promises he had made in church. Well, she had that kind of man… but he did not love her.

  A deep sigh escaped her, a sigh that was almost a sob. Another weight to carry, and this one heavier than all the rest put together. Would she ever be free of these dragging burdens? she wondered bleakly.

  She opened the window and stepped out on to the verandah, sure that she would not sleep, so it was useless to go to bed. The starry night was still mysterious and romantic, the dry flat terrain of the bushveld still silvered by the moon's glorious light. Cicadas chirped in the lovely fern-like foliage of a flame tree, and from somewhere in the valley came the harsh echo of bullfrogs croaking. Closer to, a pair of eyes glowed like embers in the darkness as some small nocturnal creature crouched, still as a statue.

  Sara turned at last, and entered her room. There was an ache in her heart, and yet there was a thread of hope there, too, for if she and Carl were to have children, then surely he must one day come to care for her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  It was five days later that Sara, arriving at the farm at her usual time of nine o'clock, found Sadie busy in the kitchen making jam when normally at this time she would be preparing Irma's breakfast in readiness for Sara to take it in.

  'Has my sister had her breakfast?' Sara asked in surprise.

  'She was still asleep ten minutes ago when I knocked oh her door,' replied the housegirl.

  Her heart jerking with fear, Sara sped along the short passage and, without even giving her customary gentle knock, she turned the door handle and entered the room.

  'Oh…' Her whole body sagged with relief. Irma was sitting up in bed, looking brighter than at any other time since the accident. 'Have you only just wakened up?'

  Irma smiled and said yes, she had overslept this morning.

  'And I didn't take any sleeping pills,' she added with a little laugh, 'so you can take that censorious look off your face!'

  Sara frowned in puzzlement.

  'You managed to sleep without the tablets?' It seemed impossible; Irma had been taking them regularly ever since Sara had arrived here.

  'Yes, I did.' A slight pause and then, 'I've got something else to tell you: I don't want to die any more.'

  'I'm glad to hear it.' Not even by the movement of a muscle did Sara betray the profound relief that Irma's words had given her. 'What brought about the change?'

  'Bernard,' answered Irma, and now Sara did betray emotion, because accompanying this one brief word was a look in Irma's eyes that sent Sara's thoughts into a ferment of conjecture.

  'Yes?' she quivered, almost willing her sister not to voice the confession she was obviously going to make.

  'I'm in love with him and he's in love with me.' So calm—matter-of-fact, almost, but there was an unmistakable happy tinge to Irma's voice. Sara just stared, her mind refusing to take in the added complications which this new situation would create. It was as though saturation point had already been reached and her mind could take no more. 'Get my breakfast, please, Sara, and I'll tell you all about it then.'

  In a sort of daze Sara went back to the kitchen. Sadie, having heard the sisters talking, had left her jam- making and was preparing paw-paws and boiled eggs for Irma's breakfast. Sara watched as the housegirl put toast and coffee on the tray.

  'There, it's ready,' smiled Sadie as she lifted the tray and handed it to Sara. 'I hope everything will be all right.'

  A few moments later Sara was standing at the end of the bed, watching Irma toying with her fruit and listening to what she had to say. Sara learned that Bernard had declared his love the previous evening, when he had spent four hours with Irma,
as her husband had gone into Paulsville to spend an evening at the Club.

  'Bernard's confession came as no surprise to me,' continued Irma, 'because it was already evident that he was in love with me. Knowing that gave me something to think about in the evenings when I was alone here, and caused my thoughts to become concentrated on him, with the result that his image replaced Ray's altogether.' A pause ensued, thoughtful and profound.

  Irma still toyed with the paw-paw but made no attempt to eat it. 'I've known for some time that Ray had ceased to love me. Well, I don't love him any more—so you can have him, Sara.'

  'Thanks for nothing!' Colour—angry crimson colour—had leapt to Sara's cheeks, and as she faced her sister now her eyes were blazing. 'It so happens that I'm in love with my husband!'

  Silence; Irma's eyes flickered with a strange expression.

  'Did you love him when you married him?' she wanted to know, for the moment diverted.

  'I love him now, and that's all that matters!'

  'I believed you'd married him merely as a cover-up for any activities which you and Ray might want to indulge in. I told Ray and he threatened to repeat it to you. Did he repeat it?'

  'Yes, he did,' flashed Sara. 'You've got a hateful mind, Irma!'

  'I'm sqrry if I misjudged you. But I knew you were once in love with Ray. Why did you marry Carl, Sara?'

  Another silence. Sara was so furious with Irma that she was almost ready to flounce out of the room and never enter it again. But she stilled her fury and answered the question.

  'If you must know, I married Carl in order to set your mind at rest, married a man I didn't love!'

  'You——— !' Irma's face paled a little. 'Oh, Sara, I didn't know! Forgive me—please say you forgive me.'

  'I do forgive you, simply because I love Carl now.'

  Irma fell silent for a space and then, slowly and wonderingly, 'You made a sacrifice like that for me… You married another man just so I'd feel safe about Ray. And instead of feeling safe I was even more troubled, suspecting you of evil motives———- ' Irma put down her spoon and flicked a hand to indicate heir wish for the tray to be removed. 'I've been hateful to you, Sara. I always knew, you see, that I'd taken Ray from you '