by Dorothy Cork
`I warned you not to call me that,' he said into her
hair, and then he forced her head up and his mouth found hers.
She fought him this time, agonisingly conscious of the fact that she had not a stitch on under her robe and that it was no longer covering her nakedness anything like adequately. His mouth was bruising hers cruelly and she felt the strength of his hands as they pressed against her naked rib-cage so that she was rendered utterly helpless. She wanted to scream, but she hadn't a hope.
Then Leanne's voice shocked her by calling, 'Ellis, are you coming down to get the dinner? Oh ! ' Her exclamation of surprise was clearly audible because she had pushed open the door and was staring open mouthed at the two figures still twined together.
`Go to hell, Leanne,' Steve gritted, without releasing Ellis. 'See to the dinner yourself—'
Leanne disappeared like magic, closing the door swiftly and silently behind her.
Ellis wrenched herself free of Steve and turned her back on him, wrapping her robe around her with fingers that shook.
`You're—you're detestable,' she muttered, swallowing on a sob. Her whole body was burning with shame. `You—you shouldn't have come into my room—'
`You're damned right, I shouldn't,' he agreed harshly. His breathing, she noticed, was as uneven as her own. 'You'd better get dressed. I'm going to take a shower—a cold one.' From the door he told her wearily, 'Wear what you like,' and then she was alone.
`Wear what you like.' The words rang mockingly in Ellis's ears, as she stared at the clothes lying on her bed. What was the point in the black skirt, the office-girl blouse—the housekeeper's guise—now? Leanne would have no illusions as to why she was here : Steve
was on the warpath—he was looking for a wife and he'd marked Ellis down.
She moved away from the bed and without knowing what she was doing took up her brush and began to draw it through her hair, her eyes fixed on her reflection. She felt so terrible she wished she could vanish—that the girl with the golden-brown hair was simply not there—that there was no image at all in the mirror. Or she wished she could wake and find herself—oh God, where? Somewhere back in her childhood, long before she'd met Paul and been dropped by him, before Jake had—gilded her—before she'd ever set eyes on a barbarous man with black and silver hair who seemed intent on—
As she tossed her brush down, she saw that he had left the jeweller's box on the dressing table. She opened it like one in a dream and slipped the ring on to her engagement finger. It fitted almost perfectly and its emerald fires glittered hard and enigmatic as the green eyes of the man who had left it there.
Ellis closed her eyes and bit hard on her lower lip. Why should she feel so frightful about Leanne's having seen her in Steve Gascoyne's arms? But she knew why—it hadn't been an ordinary embrace. Leanne must have seen the state of her—undress, and she, Ellis, was not the kind of girl who could simply shrug it off. It hurt her self-esteem terribly to have Leanne think she would let a man who was almost a stranger to her take liberties like that. The old-fashioned phrase coming into her mind made her wince, and she hated the thought of having to face any of them again.
She took the ring off and put it back in its box, but she knew she was madly tempted to leave it there on her finger—to pretend to be engaged to Steve. Wouldn't it be easiest that way? Then she wouldn't
have to fight him off—he would have a right to make love to her within reason, to—
Ellis shivered, catching sight of her white and naked body where the edges of her gown had parted. She turned quickly away and looked around her as if she'd just come out of a dream—a dream it shamed her to remember. The room was growing dark despite the light from the wall lamp, and she found the switch and lit the little gold-shaded light that stood on the dressing table.
She couldn't stay hiding here all night, even if Leanne was getting the dinner, and she tried to make her mind a blank while she dressed, slipping on over panties and bra the dress that he had chosen.
When she was ready, with her face carefully made up, she had become a complete stranger. Paul would never have known her, and neither would Jan or her Uncle Bill. But Steve Gascoyne would recognise her. She was the girl he had encountered in the Cabaret Room at that sophisticated hotel in Hobart—the girl with the elderly admirer, the girl another man had tried to pick up. The girl who had sent out invitations with her eyes, with her body.
That was the girl who was going downstairs to dine in the gracious room with its red cloth and gleaming silver and crystalware.
It's not me, Ellis thought exhaustedly.
She switched off her light and left the room. She was the girl Steve Gascoyne wanted for his wife because she was available, because she was there—because she had written him a come-on letter.
And if she stayed much longer—oh yes, she would marry him, because—because he would have compromised her. It was an unpalatable thought.
Joining the others downstairs was not, after all, the
nightmare she had imagined it might be. The sherry Steve poured for her without consulting her tastedryish, light—certainly helped, as did the fact that the lights were soft, and though she had coloured painfully when she first came face to face with Leanne, the other girl gave no sign that she even remembered what she had seen. Ellis had expected a knowing smile at the least, but none was forthcoming.
Later, it was Steve who went out to the kitchen to give Leanne a hand with the steaks, and Ellis was left alone with Charlie. They talked, but of what she afterwards had no recollection, though she was somehow quite certain Leanne had said nothing to him about the scene she had broken in on earlier.
As soon as she could after dinner, she excused herself, saying she was tired, and went upstairs to bed. She was thankful Steve didn't offer to accompany her up the stairs, but as she prepared for bed she wondered if they were talking about her in the sitting room—asking Steve questions about her. Yet—she thought not. Steve wasn't the sort of person who'd submit to being questioned, and if he was, she had a pretty strong idea he wouldn't answer.
She got into bed and lay in the dark, her eyes wide open—sleepless, listening. But there was nothing to hear, nothing at all. Nobody came upstairs, there were no voices. She thought about the day that had just passed and it seemed an eternity since she had first met Steve. She knew him and yet she didn't know him, and it disturbed her deeply to remember how he had kissed her, and the emotions he had aroused in her. Sex, for her, was something you reserved for the man you loved, and yet her physical being had responded to him with such ardour that even now she ached all through.
She closed her eyes and turned on her side and tried
to think of Paul, but for once she could barely call up his image, and the painful longing that always rose in her when she relived the tender moments she had known with him simply didn't come. Those tender moments seemed so pale and ghostlike and far away, whereas the memory of Steve Gascoyne's passionate approaches, that totally lacked any kind of tenderness, raged in her mind like some demon.
Sleep refused to come, and she wondered restlessly what tomorrow would bring. Whether she'd be able to start on some kind of routine of work in the house. Knowing that now Leanne had seen what she had, she couldn't possibly hope to be looked on as a housekeeper.
It seemed hours later that she heard movements in the hall outside her room, and she knew the others must at last have come up to bed. Yet still she couldn't sleep, and at last, in the silence, she slid out of bed, put' on her slippers and her robe, and went softly along the hall and down the stairs feeling her way in the darkness. She'd heat herself some milk—anything to persuade herself she'd sleep, otherwise she'd be fit for nothing in the morning.
When she reached the foot of the stairs she saw a line of light under the dining room door and she heard voices. For an instant she stood petrified, and then she realised it was Charlie and Leanne talking, and that they sounded as if they were having some sort of an argument. Ellis hesit
ated, then went on towards the kitchen, and had a slight shock when she discovered the light was on. But no one was there and she proceeded to do what she had `come to do, getting the jug of milk from the fridge and pouring some carefully into a small saucepan. She set it to heat on the gas stove while she found herself a heavy glass. It was curious, but in here,
perhaps because the second door was open, she could hear the voices much more clearly, and she caught a few words without even giving her attention to it.
`Now you're being difficult.' That was Charlie, and Leanne's voice was raised as she snapped back,
`I am not! You're beginning to sound just like your marvellous big brother.'
`And is there anything wrong with that?'
`Plenty,' Leanne said shrilly. 'Seeing he thinks women are such second-rate citizens, only useful for breeding. You might try pleasing me sometimes just for a change instead of falling all over yourself to do what he says. I am your wife, after all.'
Ellis felt a pang of sympathy for Leanne even though she sounded rather waspish. She poured her milk and ran water into the saucepan, quietly so they wouldn't hear her and be embarrassed. She heard Leanne saying, 'No one expects you to be an unpaid shearers' cook. It's all very well telling me he'll get someone next time he goes to Tassie, but that won't be till after the shearing. Now will it?'
`I suppose not,' Charlie said, sounding uncomfortable. But you don't have to do your block Ellis will help you—if you want to know, she said so herself when I went out to meet the plane.'
Ellis, on the point of taking her glass of milk upstairs, paused, and because her name had been mentioned, she actually strained her ears to hear what was said next. After all, she reasoned with herself, Leanne had burst in on her—
She heard Leanne laugh. 'How long do you imagine that'll last? She's more interested in Steve's lovemaking than in me or the shearers. She promised to get the dinner tonight, but she didn't. She was much too busy with your brother in her bedroom.'
Ellis's ears burned. Now Leanne was about to tell Charlie what she had seen, but he interjected sharply, `All right, so I don't want to hear about it. I guess she's in love with him, and that's okay as far as I'm concerned.'
`Well, she's a nitwit if she thinks he's in love with her,' Leanne said. 'He only loves himself, as Jan Webster discovered. And I meant what I said, Charlie—I won't stay here. If you don't just tell Steve we're going to Koolong, I'll—I'll leave you.'
`Let's not go over all that, Leanne,' Charlie said wearily. 'You're unreasonable—you don't know what you're talking about, and I'm going up to bed.'
Ellis gave a guilty start. Heavens ! Would he come to the kitchen to put the lights out? She didn't know what to do. She was going to suffer the indignity of being caught out, if she wasn't careful, and she glanced around her wildly, then quickly crossed the room and disappeared inside the pantry. After a minute, the light was switched off and there were sounds indicating that Leanne and Charlie were going upstairs. Ellis drank her milk in the darkness, groped her way to the sink and put her glass on the draining board. For some minutes she stood looking out at the garden where the tall blue and white lilies gleamed in the starlight. The thumping of her heart had settled down when at last she judged it safe to go up to her bedroom, though it wasn't until she was back in bed that she began to think about what she had heard.
First and foremost about herself, of course. Obviously, they both thought she was in love with Steve—was out to win him. The fact that Leanne was so sceptical about his feelings made it all the worse that she had seen Ellis, half undressed, in his arms.
But uneasy thoughts like these weren't going to
help her get to sleep, and she turned her thoughts to the place Leanne had mentioned—Koolong—and she wondered where it was, and whether Leanne had really meant it when she said she'd leave Charlie if he didn't take her there. They surely couldn't go away and leave her here alone with Steve ! But if they did, of course she didn't have to stay. She wasn't a prisoner—she could leave any time she liked. She could telephone to White mark for a taxi—take the plane to Melbourne or Launceston the moment she wanted to.
And, in fact, she had half a mind to do just that tomorrow, and put an end to this whole crazy situation.
But she didn't leave the following day. She didn't even think about it. The world at breakfast time, with the sky so blue and clear and the sun already so warm, was somehow reassuringly normal. No one would guess from their manner that Charlie and Leanne had been quarrelling last night—and neither would anyone guess, she reflected wryly, from the casual, abstracted way Steve treated her, that she had been—wrestling with him in her bedroom the previous evening.
But of course, Leanne didn't have to guess. Leanne knew.
`You girls can do what you like today,' Steve said as he got up from the breakfast table after he and Charlie had demolished a large meal of chops and eggs. 'Why don't you take Ellis over to the beach, Leanne—take a picnic with you. You can forget about us—have fun.'
Leanne grimaced. 'Have fun—in that awful old bomb of a car that's all the Gascoyne family seems able to spare for me ! It'll break down one of these days and I'll be stranded out there in the scrub with the snakes and the wallabies. We might as well stay home as usual and twiddle our thumbs.'
`Oh, Lee !' Charlie exclaimed, frowning. 'Don't be
so hard to get on with ! You might as well go to the beach—you've got a beaut new swimsuit
`And there'll be no one to see it but the seagulls,' Leanne turned away and Ellis saw her mouth trembling. If Steve saw it too, he was quite unmoved, for without another word he disappeared. Charlie hesitated, then came around the table to kiss his wife, but she pushed him away. `Go on—don't keep your big brother waiting.'
Abruptly, Charlie let her go and left the room. Ellis felt an uncomfortable witness. If she hadn't overheard that private conversation the previous night, she'd have been completely at a loss.
`What's up, Leanne?' she asked, beginning to pack up the breakfast dishes. 'Aren't you feeling well today?'
Leanne's eyes were smouldering. 'I'm just fed up with Steve pushing me around, that's all. Maybe you're the kind of girl who likes a man to order her about, but I'm not—particularly if he's not even my husband.'
`Oh, Steve wasn't really ordering you about, was he?' Ellis said reasonably—though she wondered why she should be championing Steve even remotely. 'He said we could do as we liked, didn't he?'
Leanne widened her eyes. 'And who is he to say I can do as I like? I'm married—I'm twenty-one—surely I can do as I like without having to get his permission. But you might as well know, Ellis, anyone who lives on this island with Steve Gascoyne hasn't a single solitary hope of doing what they like. They have to do what he likes. I don't even want to live here, but because Steve says so, here we are and here we stay. And now, as if that wasn't bad enough, I'm expected to do all the things Aunt Constance used to do. Well, I can't and I won't—and that's something he's going to find out very shortly.'
Ellis didn't know what to say. It was impossible to insist that Steve had brought her here to do the things Aunt Constance used to do. Leanne simply wouldn't believe her, not now she had seen Steve grappling with her in her bedroom. Finally she said mildly, 'I know I didn't do as I said and—and get the dinner last night, Leanne, but I am used to managing a household, and —and you can really leave things to me.'
I have a good mind to do exactly that,' snapped Leanne. 'I'll show Steve Gascoyne ! It was all very well for an old person like Aunt Constance—she was on all the committees that exist, she was even on the council for a while, but that's not my thing—I'm young, I'm not sixty or seventy or however old she was.'
Ellis took up a pile of disks. 'Where would you like to live, Leanne?' she asked.
`At Koolong, of course.' Leanne actually looked surprised at the question, and she too took up some cups and saucers and followed Ellis out to the kitchen. `There, I wouldn't be expected to traipse around in an
apron with a duster in one hand and a pile of dirty dishes in the other and—and a load of washing on my head. There's someone to do all those things at Koolong. The women can really please themselves what they do.'
Ellis listened thoughtfully and then said hesitantly, `I'm afraid I don't know where Koolong is. Should I?'
Leanne blinked. 'What? You mean you really don't know about Koolong? You've never heard of it?'
`No,' said Ellis mystified. 'You'll have to enlighten me.'
`Well, Koolong and the Gascoynes go together,' Leanne explained, raising her finely pencilled eyebrows. `Koolong is the Gascoynes. And you've never heard of it!'
`No, I haven't, Ellis repeated, a little irritated. She added, 'I've never mixed with country people.'
`Then you're starting at the top,' Leanne told her. `Koolong's in the Goulburn Valley in Victoria, and it's a sheep stud as well as producing the best Merino wool. Everyone who knows anything about sheep has heard of Koolong. There's the most beautiful old homestead on the property with absolutely everything modern inside.' She perched on the edge of the table and picked at the polish on her nails while Ellis got on with the work. 'There's a swimming pool and a tennis court and a ballroom—and a billiard table. And plenty of staff to do the work. They have parties there all the time, and you can go for a holiday in Melbourne or Hongkong or wherever you want. Anytime,' she added. `It's fabulous. They were having a second house built when I was there with Charlie on our honeymoon —for Diana and Christopher. Diana's Charlie's sister,' she explained, seeing the question on Ellis's face. 'She and Chris were married not long before we were.'
`And—Warrianda ' Ellis began, and paused.
`Oh, the old grandfather bought this place when Charlie's father took over at Koolong. He left it to Steve because he was the eldest or his favourite or something, I suppose,'. Leanne said uninterestedly, pushing back her heavy red hair 'Steve has a full share in Koolong as well, but he won't live there. He doesn't like it. He's a misanthrope, my mother says.' She suddenly widened her eyes and put a hand over her mouth. `Oh, I shouldn't have said that, should I?'