by Margaret Way
“That’s why she enlisted the old kurdaitcha man’s help,” Mel insisted, causing Dev to groan.
“A theory, Mel, based on the fact the old man turned up again.”
“To die?” She didn’t doubt he was dying, but what else had he come for?
“That’s what he said.”
“And that’s what you accepted.” Mel looked out over the lagoon, where the water was so clear and pure one could drink it. “Why wouldn’t you cover up for your grandmother? Too late to do anything about the old man. He’d perish within a day in jail.”
“You know he would.”
“So you’re offering to fly me to Maru Downs?”
“Fly us to Maru. Anything to get you to move forward, Mel,” he said tersely.
The expression in Mel’s eyes turned cool. “I can only do that when I can separate the truth from the lies. Surely that makes sense?”
“Something has to.” Dev’s response was weary.
Mel stood up, then began to button up her cotton shirt.
As he looked at her, violent sensations rushed through him. He knew if he pulled her to him he wouldn’t be able to stop. Mel belonged to him. And he to her. “It might take a day or two to organise it.”
“Fine.” Tears sprang into her eyes.
“Mel! Your tears can break my heart in an instant.” He reached out then, cupping a hand around her nape, kissing her with his open mouth. He threw everything of himself into it, feeling, after a mere moment of resistance, her tongue mating with his in the eternal dance of love. The places a tongue could go! The places Mel had learned from him. He couldn’t bear to think Mel could be right about Tjungurra. The charge was too serious to walk away from, but there was little choice. They both had to walk away from it.
Mel broke the kiss, resting her face against his neck.
“Everything is going to be different, Mel,” he promised her. “Better.”
“It would be too terrifying to think otherwise.” She slowly pulled away. “Are you going back to the house?”
“I have to. Patrick O’Hare will be here for lunch. He has a business proposition he wants to put to me. He and my grandfather had quite a few things going together.”
Mel knew that for a fact. She took a long breath, keeping her tone neutral. “I’d be surprised if he comes alone. Siobhan will tag along. Hope burns bright. It glitters like gold. Siobhan won’t miss an opportunity to see you.”
“Don’t start, Mel.” Dev jerked his blond head up impatiently. “Siobhan is easy enough company. I hope you’re going to join us.”
“Of course.” Mel was seized with shame that she had felt such a violent pang of jealousy.
Dev’s voice roused her. “O’Hare has been after Illuka for quite a while.” He named a Langdon outstation. “I’ll sell for the right price.” He knew Mel was spot on about pretty little Siobhan and her hopes. She did fancy herself in love with him, her hopes buoyed by her parents’ wholehearted support for a union between the two families. Strangely, or perhaps not so strangely, Siobhan had never mentioned the bond everyone knew existed between him and Mel. Maybe Siobhan had allowed herself to believe that bond was platonic, not sexual. A cousinly sort of thing. He disliked the whole concept of matchmaking. He had never given Siobhan any reason for hope. It had been friendship all the way.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Siobhan O’Hare made a special effort to look her best for her trip to Kooraki with her father. Her father, needless to say, was only too pleased to take her. Both parents, her mother especially, entertained hopes that she might, if she hung in there, land arguably the most eligible bachelor in the country—James Devereaux Langdon. She and Dev had always been friends, and at not that far off thirty it was high time Dev took a wife. Plenty of eligible young women were standing in line—she was the closest geographically, at least—Dev had only to make a decision. Now that he had stepped into Gregory Langdon’s shoes, there was extra pressure on Dev to marry and have a family, hopefully sons to run the Langdon cattle empire.
She had a big advantage, being Outback born and bred and a member of the O’Hare pioneering family, with its proud history. She had hoped, prayed, finally convinced herself she had as good a chance as anyone. There was that persistent niggle at the back of her mind. Her mother felt it, too. That niggle was Amelia Norton. One had to be realistic. Amelia was a very beautiful young woman, exotic and astonishingly beautiful. That was her Italian blood. She even had an intensely attractive voice and a beguiling way with her hands, little turns of the wrists and upraised splayed fingers. Her Italian blood again. Not only that, she was clever. She held down a top job with a leading investment bank.
The big turn-off was the mother, the former housekeeper who overnight had become a rich woman. It was now apparent to everyone that Sarina Norton had been Gregory Langdon’s mistress. No one seemed prepared to forgive or forget that. There could be a public scandal looming if anyone leaked information to the press. Her family never would. They were trusted friends. She knew there was a strong bond between Dev and Amelia, but surely it was almost like family? In no way did Dev and Amelia act like lovers. That gave her heart hope. Their behaviour was more like affectionate bantering, sparring cousins. Still, the strong connection was there. Given the chance, she would sound Amelia out.
* * *
Just as Mel had predicted, Siobhan arrived with her father. Both father and daughter greeted Mel warmly, though an indefinable light shone in Siobhan’s bright blue eyes. She was looking extremely pretty. Her short copper curls glittered in the sunlight. Her soft fair skin was lightly peppered with freckles across her pert nose. She wore a very becoming white linen dress, sleeveless, round necked with circular medallions of cotton lace and crewel work adorning the skirt. When Dev bent to kiss her cheek she held up a rapt face like a flower to the sun, her hand involuntarily stroking his arm.
Siobhan in the sunlight! All light and white petunia skin. She was smiling at Dev in a way that made Mel’s heart ache. Dev wasn’t in love with Siobhan. But it was there for anyone to see—Siobhan was head over heels in love with Dev. Such a marvellous feeling to be in love, Mel thought with a twist of the heart. Hell to be in love with the wrong man. The O’Hares were good people, much respected in the vast Outback community. Siobhan was blessed. She enjoyed approval all round. She was much loved by her parents. That alone was a priceless gift, in Mel’s view.
* * *
Lunch was served in the cool of the loggia that looked out over the rear landscaped gardens and the turquoise swimming pool with its beautiful mosaic tiles. A poolside pergola was a short distance away, with cushioned banquettes and a long, low timber table. Mel had often eaten a breakfast of tropical fruit there.
Her mother’s former second in charge, now elevated to the position of housekeeper, Nula Morris, was proving her efficiency by serving and presenting a light, delicious meal of chilled avocado, lime and cilantro soup. It was followed by sweet-and-sour seafood salad that had its origin in Thailand. Her mother had often served Thai dishes, mainly because Gregory Langdon had loved them. A coconut and ginger ice cream garnished with mint sprigs had been made to end the meal if anyone wanted a scoop or two. Mel was the only one to decline. She had eaten with little enthusiasm. She didn’t have much of an appetite these days.
Over lunch Siobhan came alive. Pretty face thrown up, riding high, she broke completely free of her usual shyness around Dev to sparkle. She launched into a stream of funny stories and gossip that made them all laugh. That clearly delighted her. Siobhan had a talent for mimicry that added to the comic effect. Her father smiled on her proudly. His little girl, wasn’t she wonderful? Dev, too, was looking at her with easy affection, something that must have gladdened the heart of both daughter and father. Mel tried to capture some of the mood. She was fully aware of Dev’s sharpening attention on her, the watchfulness behind the white smiles. Tension continued to burn slowly between them like a fuse.
Mel tormented herself with a visual image. Dev
and a radiant Siobhan standing before an altar, Siobhan in the loveliest of satin and lace wedding gowns, a short starburst of tulle around her head, a posy of white and cream roses in her hand. Every woman wished and prayed for happiness in love. Oh, to find it in marriage to that one man, a soulmate! That was the way things should be. The sad reality was that many chose the wrong man and lived to regret it.
* * *
Afterwards the men withdrew to Dev’s study to talk business, leaving the two young women alone. Mel thought it might be a good idea to retain a little distance between herself and Siobhan, only Siobhan had other ideas.
They were strolling in the garden, heading in the direction of the bougainvillea-wreathed arcade. “So when are you thinking of heading back to Sydney?” Siobhan asked, linking her arm through Mel’s in a gesture of friendship, but really settling into an interrogation of sorts.
“I’m not exactly sure,” Mel replied, well aware that Siobhan was trying to pick up signals.
“It must be hard for you, Amelia, coping?”
Her approach angered Mel but she kept calm. Unhurriedly, she withdrew her arm, pretending she wanted to study the huge yellow and scarlet spikes of the Kahili Ginger Blossom. It might have been a rare plant instead of one that thrived in the garden. “Coping with what?” Mel asked, keeping moving.
Siobhan wasn’t to be put off, her gentle voice gathering strength. “This business about your mother,” she said. “We all feel for you, Amelia.” She began to describe circles in the air that apparently denoted “feeling.”
“Why should you think I need your kind feelings, Siobhan?”
Siobhan’s petunia-petal skin coloured up. “I just wanted you to know you have friends.”
Mel considered that. “I do have friends, but that’s nice of you, Siobhan.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” Siobhan answered with a smile.
“I should tell you I have all the friends I need.”
Siobhan made a funny little sound of distress. “There, I’ve upset you. But you don’t need enemies, Amelia, because of your mother. All those noughts!” she exclaimed. “Twenty million dollars wasn’t it?”
Mel came to a halt, her passionate face betraying her anger, her great dark eyes on fire. “Who told you?”
Siobhan’s stomach gave a downward lunge. She took a hasty step back, replying in a voice of soft amazement. “Why Dev, of course.”
“Not true!” Mel flatly contradicted. As petite Siobhan moved back she took a step closer.
Siobhan gave a nervous laugh. “Would I lie to you?”
Mel brushed that aside. “You just did. I think you’re anxious to help me on my way, Siobhan. I know you feel deeply for Dev.”
Siobhan blushed scarlet. “Is it that apparent?”
“It is to me. I don’t blame you in the least. Dev is an extremely handsome and charismatic man. So what is it that’s worrying you about me?”
Siobhan looked highly uncomfortable, shrugging her delicate shoulders. “I need to find out the lay of the land. You and Dev are close. Everyone knows that. You always have been.”
“You have difficulty with it?’
“No, no!” Siobhan protested breathlessly. “I understand. You were a very lonely child. No friends of your own, your mother the housekeeper. Dev must have been your knight in shining armour.”
“And you wish to know if he still is?” Mel asked bluntly.
Siobhan pulled her pert features into an expression of apology.
“Give it to me straight, Siobhan,” Mel advised. “You want to know if Dev and I have a sexual relationship? Is that it? You want to know if there’s any chance it might come to something?”
Siobhan pulled back contritely. “Please, Amelia, I have no wish to upset you.”
“Then why bring up the subject?”
“Apologies, apologies! You’re someone I really admire, Amelia. You’re so beautiful.” Privately, she and her mother were in agreement that Amelia could do something to tone down her sexuality. “And you’re clever. Dev is forever singing your praises. I just wanted to know if I had a chance with him, that’s all.”
Mel waited while Siobhan had her say. “That’s all? That’s a lot to know, Siobhan. Why don’t you ask Dev, not me?”
Siobhan’s pretty face was shocked. “I’m not good at that sort of thing. Much too forward. I thought you might help me as a sort of favour. I’ve always liked you. So do my parents. We’ve always felt sorry for you.”
“So you keep running past me,” Mel said shortly. “I’m in no need of your pity, Siobhan. I do very well. You, on the other hand, might consider this. Lies are easy to tell but very difficult to make right. Dev didn’t tell you how much Gregory Langdon left my mother.”
Siobhan’s pretty face wore a look of guilt. She waved her two hands in front of her face without answering.
“That doesn’t tell me much,” Mel said.
“He might have told Dad,” Siobhan mumbled, digging herself further in. Put on the spot, she found she couldn’t admit to anything bad about herself.
Mel relented. “I accept your family has high hopes for a union between your two families, Siobhan. I expect you’re getting plenty of loving but constant pressure from your parents to bring that about. It would be considered a tremendous coup.”
Proudly, Siobhan threw up her copper head. “Is that so dreadful? Should I be defending our family position? I’ve had a huge crush on Dev since I was a girl,” she proclaimed, her voice rising. “I know he’s very fond of me. If you’re not in the picture in that way, Amelia—I fully accept your long friendship with Dev—I feel I have a chance with Dev. There’s no one else on the scene, as far as I know. Megan Kennedy couldn’t hold him and she sure tried hard enough. She told me Dev was dynamite in bed.”
Mel felt a dull roar in her ears. “How massively indiscreet everyone has become these days. Personally, I don’t believe in kiss-and-tell. But you’re in no position to second Megan’s opinion.”
Siobhan coloured up violently. “No, no! But Dev has to marry soon. It’s expected of him. Especially now.” Siobhan’s expression was contrite. “You must surely understand?”
Mel stared away across the garden to the calm, dark, green waters of a man-made pond. It was so beautiful, densely framed by pristine white arum lilies, with their lush green foliage and a spectacular jostling of purple flowering water plants deeper into the bog. “I do, Siobhan,” she said quietly.
“Oh, that’s great!” Siobhan spoke as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “You won’t give me away, will you? I mean, you won’t tell Dev about our conversation?”
“Of course not,” Mel said. “This is private and it will remain that way. Good thing I’m not Megan Kennedy. Don’t get too optimistic, Siobhan,” she warned.
“I won’t.” Siobhan nodded, as though heeding good advice. “I mean, Dev’s only just lost his grandfather. He would have trouble thinking about marriage right at this point.”
“Perhaps he’s already made up his mind,” said Mel.
Siobhan pinked up again. “Maybe he has,” she said with a hopeful smile, her blue eyes full of twinkling lights.
All Mel felt was emotionally drained. Her mother’s parting words resounded in her ears.
In the end you’ll find your dreams will dissolve. Just like mine.
* * *
Patrick O’Hare had flown over to Kooraki in his yellow bumblebee of a helicopter. Business matters concluded to both men’s satisfaction, father and daughter made their farewells. Siobhan hugged Mel, grasping the taller Mel close as if they were new best friends.
“We must stay in touch, Amelia.” She smiled jauntily, as though at long last she had gained some sort of an ascendancy over Mel. “Mum and I often go to Sydney or Melbourne to do our shopping or take in a show. I’d like to give you a call when I’m in Sydney.” She looked to Mel for confirmation.
“Please do.” What else could she say? Please don’t?
* * *
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Dev was driving father and daughter down to the airstrip. They were seated in the Jeep and before Dev climbed on board he turned back for a word with Mel. “I’ll be back,” he advised in a voice that suggested she might take it into her head to hop in a Jeep and tear off to the Simpson Desert.
“What’s the panic? I’m not going anywhere.”
He gave her a taut version of his white smile. “Not yet.”
“I have an investigation to attend to, Dev,” Mel said.
“And I’m going to help you. I thought we’d agreed on that,” Dev responded tersely, rubbing his cleft chin. “You don’t have to go it alone. Whatever the true story is, Mel, there’s bound to be fallout.”
“I’m prepared for it,” she said firmly. “For all we know, my mother’s windfall might soon make the papers.”
“A nine-day wonder,” Dev pronounced. “Your mother’s latest version of her life story mightn’t be the final one. There could be yet another draft,” he warned. Sarina Norton was definitely damaged.
“That’s what we have to find out. Did Michael have family?”
“It would have been checked out at the time. No one, as far as I know, turned up for the funeral.”
“I wish I’d been much older,” said Mel, a thousand regrets rising to her mind. “I’d have known so much more, instead of being kept in the dark. You’d better go,” she said sweetly. “Siobhan is looking anxious.”
“Funning, are you?” Dev clipped off. “Just be here when I get back.”
* * *
It was a good fifteen minutes before Dev returned. He found Mel in the library. “The good news is O’Hare is willing to meet my price for Illuka,” he said, slumping, albeit elegantly, into a wing-backed chair.
“And the bad news?”
“Well, I don’t know if it’s bad, exactly,” he teased, “but Siobhan gave me an epic hug and a kiss goodbye.”
“Lucky you.” Mel closed the book she had taken down from a shelf, a signed copy of Patrick White’s The Tree of Man, set in the Australian wilderness. It had contributed to his winning the Nobel Prize back in 1973. The Nobel committee commented that White had “introduced a new continent into literature.” Australia, the oldest continent on earth. Mel had read and re-read the book. She never tired of it. “A sea change appears to have come over our Siobhan lately,” she observed.
