by Susan Lewis
‘What difference does it make when I’m never going to see him again?’ Rhiannon demanded harshly. ‘Why do I have to know anything when it’s all over for me and him? Tell me, Galina. Why?’
Galina lowered her head. ‘I just thought you should,’ she answered weakly.
Rhiannon walked ahead of her to the front door, then pulling it open she said, ‘What you thought, Galina, was that you would come here today and do whatever it took to make sure I’d never do anything to try to take Max away. Well, you know now that I won’t, but let me put you right about one thing, Galina, because I think it’s important for you to know this – it isn’t you who’s standing between me and Max, it’s Max’s conscience – because Max is a decent man who won’t take his own happiness at someone else’s expense. Particularly not someone who’s as dependent on him as you claim to be. But I’m not Max. I can see through you, Galina, and frankly I don’t give a damn what happens to you, not after what you’ve tried to pull here today – and were it not for how much more pain it would cause him, you’d better believe I’d take him away from you right now.’
A tear rolled from Galina’s eye and trickled down her face, as pulling her coat tightly around her, she walked past Rhiannon and started up the steps to the street. When she reached the top she paused as the door closed behind her. Then wiping her fingers across her cheeks, she took a long Cher-style wig and sun-glasses from her bag, put them on and began walking towards the end of the street. She’d achieved exactly what she’d come here to achieve.
Chapter 26
FOUR DAYS LATER, a twelve-seater Cessna with a party of Belgians, a couple of gay Swedes and Rhiannon on board, was coming in to land on the rugged makeshift airstrip at Perlatonga. They’d left the Kruger Park’s airport at Skukuza just under an hour before, when the sun had been at its height and the vast, crowded expanse of the bush at its most spectacular.
Looking down on it all had made Rhiannon’s heart swell and the relief she felt at being there at last was so great it was causing her eyes to sting.
She’d done a lot of crying since Galina had left on Sunday, hours and hours of it, as she’d agonized with herself over whether she had been unnecessarily cruel, whether she should have taken the time to listen and maybe in some way try to help her, rather than dismiss everything she had to say and throw her out the way she had. It wasn’t that she was in any way doubting her conviction that Galina was lying, it was simply that she felt ashamed of the way she had refused to deal with Galina’s pain.
On Monday a chauffeur had turned up to collect the things Max had left behind. Though Rhiannon hadn’t asked, she’d waited hopefully for a message, but there was none. She had felt so let down by that, that anger had overcome her grief for a while and she was almost prepared to believe that Galina was right, he wasn’t the man she thought he was. But the anger soon died and she realized that to send her messages now would only perpetuate the pain and longing, when in their hearts they both knew it was over.
‘I just wish I could make myself accept that,’ she sighed to Lizzy when they were alone in her chalet later. ‘I keep trying to see into the future, you know, trying to get a feel, an intuition if you like, of what might happen.’ Her lips pursed in a self-mocking grimace. ‘I know, crazy!’ she said and sighing heavily, she pushed the pillows up higher behind her and hugged her knees to her chest. ‘Don’t let’s talk about him any more,’ she said. ‘I’m driving myself crazy enough thinking about him.’
Lizzy’s bronzed, anxious face was shrouded in the dusk light spilling in through the open door. Her tousled blonde hair was speckled with sawdust and her khaki uniform was crumpled and muddy. She looked, Rhiannon thought, even more at home here than Rhiannon had expected.
‘You know what I think?’ Lizzy said. ‘I think you should stop trying to second-guess the future and concentrate on the here and now. If it’s going to happen for you two, it will, and no amount of self-inflicted misery because God won’t Jet you in on His secrets is going to change it. OK, I know, that’s easy to say when I’m not the one going through it, but can you tell me I’m wrong?’
Rhiannon smiled and reaching out for Lizzy’s hand she said, ‘You look lovely, you know. I just can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see you.’
Laughing, Lizzy drew her into her arms. ‘You don’t have to, I know,’ she said. ‘I’m just sorry you had to go through all that, with the press and everything, without me being there.’
‘Mmm, a real baptism of fire,’ Rhiannon grimaced. ‘Getting through without Lizzy!’ She laughed. ‘Still, one crisis down, God knows how many more to go, but I’ll get through and if the going gets really tough I’ll do what I’ve done now – get out and come here.’
‘You do that,’ Lizzy told her. ‘Now I’m going to leave you to get ready for dinner. Remember, one of the boys will come to fetch you to lead the way through to the boma. Don’t venture out alone after dark – if you need anything . . .’
‘Shine the flashlight until someone spots it and comes to the rescue,’ Rhiannon finished with her.
‘I wish all my students were such quick studies,’ Lizzy laughed.
‘Before you go, what’s a boma?’ Rhiannon said.
‘The barbecue area. We’ve got Mozambique prawns and fresh Kingklip or Ostrich steak on the menu tonight. And Doug found this fantastic new wine when he was over in Cape Town a few weeks ago, so we’ll have a bit of a celebration.’
Rhiannon grinned. ‘Can’t wait,’ she said.
After kissing her on the cheek, Lizzy padded across the deck and began to thread her way through ferns and shrubs that were already bristling with turbulent night sound.
Rhiannon stood at the door for a while, listening to the cries of the wild as they screeched and echoed through the rapidly fading light. Overhead the sky was paling and darkness crept through the trees like errant mischief. She inhaled deeply, remembering the mixed scent of aniseed and dung and thinking of how much her life had changed in a year. It just went to show, she thought to herself as she recalled how in love she had been with Oliver, that no matter how secure and right something might feel at the time, you should never take it for granted, because just like Lizzy said, God had His secrets and He wasn’t sharing them with anyone.
‘. . . and so, we’d be very honoured’, Andy declared, his unruly blond hair and handsomely tanned face glowing in the firelight as he held his glass high, ‘if you, Rhiannon, and you, Doug, would be godparents to the little sprog.’
‘The what!’ Lizzy exploded.
‘The little chap,’ Andy immediately amended in his best British accent.
‘He thinks it’s a boy,’ Lizzy informed Rhiannon, ‘and I haven’t had the heart to disillusion him yet.’
‘On behalf of Rhiannon and myself, we accept,’ Doug announced, clambering to his feet as the handful of rangers who had joined them for dinner applauded. ‘And may I propose a toast to my brother?’ His eyes focused gleamingly on Andy’s. ‘Good on yer, mate!’ he grinned and knocking his glass against Andy’s, he signalled for everyone else to join in.
‘All this manly felicitation, it’s making me quite giddy,’ Lizzy declared, fanning herself.
Laughing, Rhiannon raised her glass too. ‘Good on yer, mate,’ she echoed, banging her glass against Lizzy’s. ‘When’s it due?’
‘Some time in August, which means it’ll probably be a Leo and if it’s anything like its father it’s going back.’
‘And if it’s anything like its mother it’ll have wings and a halo and it’ll strum a little harp like . . .’
‘Enough,’ Lizzy cried, stuffing a handful of grapes in his mouth. ‘Private joke. Don’t anyone ask.’
‘Who does this remind you of?’ Andy said to Doug, speaking through the grapes.
‘Can you believe this?’ Lizzy demanded of Rhiannon. ‘We can’t even announce we’re having a baby without descending into vulgarity. And to think I’ve agreed to marry it.’
Andy’s eyes opened wide
. ‘That’s the first . . .’ He spat out the grapes, ‘I’ve heard of it,’ he finished.
‘And the last,’ Lizzy told him. ‘Doug, we need more wine.’
‘Are you supposed to be drinking?’ Andy demanded.
‘Are you supposed to be alive?’ she responded.
‘Oh God, stop,’ Rhiannon groaned, holding her sides she was laughing so hard.
‘Can I kiss you?’ Andy said, sitting down and putting his arms around Lizzy.
‘If it’ll stop you talking,’ she replied as Doug refilled their glasses.
‘Hey, come on, break it up you two,’ Doug commanded. ‘The next thing you know she’ll be pregnant.’
‘Want to dance, Rhiannon?’ Andy offered as the band changed rhythm and a few well-oiled guests started shimmying around the campfire.
‘You bet,’ Rhiannon replied, leaping to her feet.
‘Teach her the bushman’s shuffle,’ Doug called after them.
‘The what?’ Rhiannon shouted above the drums.
‘The bushman’s shuffle,’ Andy repeated, and with a whoop and a twirl he began shaking his arms and legs about in such an hysterically uncoordinated manner that all Rhiannon – and the rest of the camp – could do, was laugh.
Doug then took it upon himself to inform everyone present about the baby and within minutes the night had erupted into a wildly enjoyable party.
‘Is it always like this?’ Rhiannon asked Lizzy during a moment’s pause from the dance floor.
‘Not always this riotous,’ Lizzy replied, ‘but the man’s insane and you just have to humour him.’
Laughing, Rhiannon looked across to where Andy was attempting to jive with a porky little American woman in a cute straw hat, while Doug flaunted himself rashly around the gay Swedes.
‘You know, Max would love this,’ Rhiannon smiled. ‘Life is so serious for him and it would be so good for him to let his hair down and go for it like this.’
‘Then the first opportunity we get, we’ll introduce him to this pair of clowns,’ Lizzy declared.
Rhiannon turned to look at her, eyebrows cocked. ‘The first opportunity?’ she repeated playfully. ‘Has God been letting you in on His secrets, Lizzy Fortnum?’
Laughing, Lizzy lifted a hand to Rhiannon’s face. ‘I wish I could say He had,’ she answered.
Rhiannon sighed. ‘Let’s change the subject, shall we? This is supposed to be a celebration not a commiseration. Now, where’s that idiot man of yours, it’s time you had a dance.’
Right on cue Andy appeared behind them and swept Lizzy into the fray. Smiling, Rhiannon watched them and seeing how wonderfully happy they were she could only wonder why she had ever had the feeling that something awful would happen if either of them ever returned to Perlatonga.
‘Daddy! Watch! Watch, Daddy,’ Marina cried, looking back over her shoulder to check that Max could hear.
‘I’m watching, honey,’ he told her, pushing his ski-goggles on to his head and squinting against the brilliant white glare of the slopes.
‘OK, Aleks!’ Marina called to her brother. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes,’ he called back from his daring position a few yards up the slope where, behind him, an hilarious host of beginners were windmilling their arms and grabbing each other frantically in an effort to stay on their feet.
Max smiled and felt his heart tense with love as Aleks, fearless as ever in his bright-blue salopettes and matching jacket, fixed his feverish eyes on Marina, dug his poles into the snow and jettisoned himself full pelt into his sister’s arms.
‘Well done!’ Marina shouted, hugging him. ‘Did you see that, Daddy? Aleks skied on his own and I caught him.’
‘Sure I saw it,’ Max replied, his eyes dancing with laughter at the proud and excited looks on his children’s faces. They’d been practising this little stunt for the past half-hour, while he’d sipped hot chocolate and pretended not to notice.
‘I taught him how to do that,’ Marina informed him proudly, skiing the few feet to where Max was sitting outside a café. Then she burst out laughing as Aleks slithered down the slope straight into his father’s arms.
‘Hey!’ Max laughed, swinging Aleks up on to his lap and roundly kissing his cheek. It was so flushed and cold and invitingly soft that he kissed him again and bearhugged him until he protested. ‘Give me five,’ he said, holding up his palm.
‘Yes!’ Aleks cried, slapping his gloved hand into Max’s. ‘I’m nearly as good as Marina now, aren’t I?’ he said.
Marina’s big eyes rose from the cup she was holding to her mouth.
‘Nearly,’ Max confirmed, giving her a wink, ‘but not quite.’
Satisfied with that, Aleks beamed as, with an air of great importance, Marina abandoned her cup and did a quick little slalom down the hillside, just to prove how much more advanced she was than her brother. Aleks watched her, his wide blue eyes steeped in admiration.
‘I can do that,’ he told Max, as Marina shuffled sideways back up to the café.
‘You can?’ Max said, loosening Aleks’s skis and dropping them to the ground beside his own.
‘Yeah. I just don’t want to right now.’
‘Oh, OK,’ Max responded.
‘I’m not scared,’ Aleks informed him. ‘I’m like you, I’m not scared of anything.’
‘Daddy’s the best skier in the whole wide world,’ Marina chipped in, kicking off her skis so she could perch on Max’s other knee. ‘Daddy skis down the black slopes, don’t you, Daddy?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Aleks said. ‘Snow’s not black.’
‘It’s not the snow that’s black,’ Marina retorted haughtily, ‘it’s the slope. Daddy, can we ride up on the T-bar again in a minute?’ she asked, watching a group of children being swept up over the hillside by the tire-fesses.
‘Sure, honey, when Galina gets back to take care of Aleks.’
At the mention of Galina, Marina’s eyes went down, her long, silky black lashes veiling her thoughts, until suddenly realizing the significance of what her father had said she looked up again in delight. ‘Does that mean we can go up on our own?’ she gasped excitedly. ‘Just you and me?’
‘Just you and me,’ Max confirmed, tucking a tuft of curls back inside her hat, while wondering what he should do about this problem she was having with Galina.
‘It’s not black,’ Aleks said, craning his neck to look up at the mountain tops. ‘Show me where it’s black.’
Smiling as Marina attempted to explain the colour gradations of the ski slopes, Max ordered more hot chocolate for them, then looked down the hill to see if Galina was on her way back. After snapping away furiously all morning, taking shots of the kids and Max and the breath-taking scenery around them, she’d taken the camera back to the private chalet they were renting just above the town, tucked discreetly away in a meandering cluster of snow-laden pines.
They’d arrived in Gstaad just over a week ago, having taken a flight to Geneva, then the train up through the mountains to the exclusive Alpine village. The staff Ramon had employed to look after them had been waiting at the station to greet them and transport them to the luxurious chalet. The children had flown in on the company jet just the day before and it hadn’t been easy keeping his daredevil son on his feet and out of danger since.
Thanking the waiter as he delivered the hot chocolate, Max set the children down and watched them, still chattering away, as they went off in search of the toilet. They hadn’t got along this well in so long that Max could only feel dismayed at not realizing before how badly they too had needed a break from LA.
It was amazing, he thought with not a little unease as he inhaled the crisp, pine-scented air and gazed out across the spectacular white landscape, that the press hadn’t caught up with them yet. It was a busy time of year for the ski resorts and as secluded and private as they were in their chalet, Max didn’t imagine for one minute that they hadn’t been recognized while out on the slopes. But they had two things in their favour: first,
a couple of members of the British royal family were over at Klosters, providing a very convenient sidetrack; and second, it was clear to anyone who came to Gstaad often that those who frequented the exclusive resort had a healthy respect for other people’s privacy and no interest at all in having their own winter breaks overrun by a marauding army of slalom-wrecking hacks who didn’t know a Geländesprung from a Gordon’s gin. Nevertheless he still lived in almost hourly dread of them turning up on his doorstep, for if they kept up what they’d started in England he would have no choice but to take action, which was the very last thing he wanted when he knew only too well what the results would be.
‘Daddy?’ Marina said, coming out of the café with Aleks trailing behind her.
Max looked round and noticed with concern that her face seemed suddenly strained.
‘What is it, honey?’ he said, putting an arm around her and grabbing Aleks by the hanging bib of his salopettes as he tottered on a patch of ice.
‘I was just wondering, Daddy,’ she said, bringing her dark eyes up to Max’s as Max settled Aleks on his knee, ‘will Rhiannon be coming to stay with us?’
Max’s heart jolted and he had to take a moment to collect himself before looking curiously into his daughter’s eyes. ‘Why do you ask that, honey?’ he said.
Her lips trembled slightly as she said, ‘I just wanted to know, that’s all.’
‘No, she’s not coming, sweetheart,’ he murmured, brushing a hand over her face. ‘Why, did you want her to?’
Marina shook her head. ‘No,’ she answered in a whisper. Then, just like the sun making a sudden break through a cloud, she was all smiles and excitement again. ‘Can we try the red slope when we go up?’ she asked.
‘Sure we can, if you feel up to it,’ Max answered. He was longing to ask her what had prompted the question about Rhiannon, but wasn’t sure if it would be wise to pursue it. She didn’t appear to want to, but she had certainly been seeking reassurance on some level and loving her as completely as he did, it worried him deeply to think she might be concerned about something he knew nothing about. He tried to imagine what she might know about Rhiannon, but without asking her it was really impossible to tell, though it would be naive of him to think that she didn’t have some knowledge of what was going on, or that she hadn’t seen at least a couple of newspapers before leaving the States.
