by Margaret Way
“A profound mistake.” His tone was dark. “I’ve relinquished faith in you, Chrissy, when once I had all the faith in the world. For all I know you could be looking for great sex too. Despite everything we know it’d still work.”
“Except I don’t come cheap.”
“That goes without saying. So what do you want? It can’t be money. I think it’s still possession.”
Shadowed by the palm, blind and deaf to everything but themselves and their abandonment to anger, they failed to hear a sweet syrupy voice until the owner of the voice was almost upon them.
“Mitch, where are you?” It was Amanda, pretending she didn’t know where Mitch had disappeared to when she’d been keeping him and Christine under close surveillance all night.
“Damn!” Mitch sobered in an instant. “You never know what to expect with Amanda.”
“I’d call it an ambush.” Christine tossed her hair back from her heated face. “You go and pay her a lot of attention, Mitch. It’ll take your mind off me and hopefully dull your senses. I’ll go back the other way.” With that she moved with the swiftness of a gazelle, already out of sight before Mitch had eased his rangy figure back into the light.
“There you are, Mitch!” Amanda exclaimed in delight, her pretty face dimpling.
She was fascinated with Mitch Claydon. Fascinated with everything about him. She prayed he would start paying her more attention. He’d been her escort at the last Outback ball. Of course she’d approached him—put him on the spot, actually—but he could have refused or made up some excuse. He hadn’t. He’d even kissed her at the end of that glorious night, putting her in a delirium of excitement and pleasure. Maybe he’d been a tiny bit drunk. All the guys had been. But she was certain he liked her. In some quarters she was very, very popular, but she’d never scored a date with Golden-Boy Claydon. That was what all the girls called him.
Now he was walking towards her, exuding a powerful sexuality. She was certain he’d been with Christine Reardon. Those sparkling blue eyes were alight with arousal and some spark of anger. They’d had an argument, she supposed.
Good!
Nevertheless, Amanda experienced a thrust of jealousy so sharp and so deep it shocked her. Christine Reardon was getting right on her nerves. Wasn’t she supposed to have been the great love of his life? Yet she’d left him behind. What woman in her right mind would do that? She’d kill for Mitch Claydon. There was still a deep attachment between them, though. She’d been watching them all night out of the corner of her eye. She couldn’t wait for the supermodel to pack her bags and fly off for the Big Apple, or somewhere just as far. The sooner the better. Mitch Claydon was everything any sane woman could ever want.
Quickly, sweetly, Amanda took his arm, her softly voluptuous body blooming. “I’m so enjoying myself, Mitch,” she crooned. “I can’t thank you enough for inviting me. And Shel, of course. Shel doesn’t get out much. She prefers to be at home than out at a party.”
“Maybe she’s kept far too busy?” Mitch suggested dryly. “It’s no secret Shelley works very hard.”
“Of course she does,” Amanda agreed, sounding mortified. “But she thrives on it. She wouldn’t do it otherwise. I must say it’s been thrilling to see Christine again. She’s so gorgeous, and she doesn’t have any airs and graces to her. I love that. We’ve all missed her. I expect you’ve missed her too?”
“I certainly have.” He hoped that would put Amanda off.
“Wasn’t there one time you and she were going to get married?” She glanced up at his marvellous face.
“I don’t know how many times you’ve asked me that, Amanda.”
She gave a little breathy laugh. “I guess we’re all in awe of Christine. Not everyone gets to be a supermodel. She must have the most glamorous lifestyle—star treatment, all the guys in love with her. Poor old me—I’d be scared of that world myself. Those models try everything! The things you read about them… But Christine knows how to keep her head. She must have had great strength of character, getting off the drugs.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Mitch stared down at her.
“Oh, gosh. I’ve put my foot in it.”
“No need to sound so pleased.”
“Pleased?” Amanda injected a whole lot of dismay into her voice. “I’m not pleased. How could you say that, Mitch? But surely you know, or you’ve heard about it? Why, a few years back Christine admitted in an interview to experimenting with designer drugs. Curiosity, mainly, she said, and obviously she can control it. Some people can, apparently. They take it or leave it. Can’t be easy, I tell myself.”
“You’re talking absolute rubbish,” Mitch said flatly.
“Oh, dear. I’m sorry!” Amanda let out a little woeful cry. “You’re so surprised. I really didn’t expect that. I’m fairly certain I’ve still got the magazine. I thought she was a tiny bit indiscreet, admitting to it, but of course in her world it must be all around her.”
“I dare say it is, but Christine knows how to look after herself. She doesn’t do drugs. I’m certain of that. So don’t go spreading any damaging gossip. She’s denied ever taking them.”
“To you?” Amanda looked up appealingly. “Well, she would, wouldn’t she? She’s not going to risk losing your respect. Anyway, as I say, it was a few years back. She’s probably got it out of her system. Please don’t be angry, Mitch. I admire Christine as much as you do. But we don’t live in her world, so we can’t judge her. In the circles she moves in I dare say the temptations are very strong. It’s fantastic, too, that she’s got this thing going with Ben Savage, the soap star. He’s gorgeous!”
“Did you read that too?” Mitch asked in a jaundiced voice.
“Who hasn’t?” She giggled. “Apparently they share a very sexual relationship. At any rate, he’s following her to Australia. That must be sooo exciting! Squillions of women fantasize about Ben Savage. Me included. Christine must be sizzling with anticipation.”
He slipped his hands into his pockets casually. “I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned it.”
“People in the public eye tend to get a little weird about their privacy. They’re used to the paparazzi running after them. They adore Christine everywhere. She’s a megastar. After the life she’s lived she’d find it impossible to settle down back home—not that she will, if Ben Savage has anything to do with it.” Amanda laughed gaily, running a playful finger down the sleeve of Mitch’s jacket. “If we’re very, very lucky we might even get to meet him.”
The party went on until around two-thirty a.m., when everyone decided to catch a few hours’ sleep.
“Everything okay with you?” Sarah asked Christine very quietly as they walked down the hallway to their rooms. “Under the sparkle I sense upset.” Sarah’s velvety brown eyes were kind and affectionate and, beyond that, highly perceptive.
“You’re an expert at picking it up,” Christine said, a wry smile on her mouth. “As a matter of fact Mitch and I had a few words that could easily have got out of hand if we hadn’t been interrupted by Amanda. She seems to get into a panic when Mitch is out of her sight.”
“She has an enormous crush on him,” Sarah confirmed. “What a difference there is between the sisters! Amanda is very pretty, but it’s Shelley who touches everyone’s heart. She has that little air of valour.”
“Yes,” Christine agreed quietly. “She’s taken it on her narrow shoulders to look after her family. Such selflessness is rare.”
“I agree. So what about your clash with Mitch? I sensed he was upset as well.”
“He wasn’t exactly struggling to get free of Amanda.”
Sarah shook her head. “He doesn’t take her seriously, Chris. She’s the one making all the effort.”
“Maybe.” Christine gave a thin smile. “He did tell me he wasn’t going to waste any more of his life on me. That hurt. But it’s finally brought home to me just how much I hurt him.”
Sarah put an arm around her friend and hugged her. “Y
ou had to leave, Chris. It wasn’t what you wanted. It was what you had to do. I can certainly empathize. I kept my deepest secret for years. I caused Kyall great pain.”
“You had your reasons, Sarah. You must have lived a nightmare with none of us to help you. Both you and Kyall suffered because of my grandmother. Were she still alive I think I’d strangle her—” Christine broke off, a tremor in her voice.
“Kyall told you, of course. About the way Ruth allowed me to believe my baby had died.”
Tears stung Christine’s eyes. “What a terrible sin! The whole story shocked me out of my mind. Kyall exposed our grandmother for what she was. A megalomaniac who didn’t care for anything outside her own will. Because of her you and Kyall were deprived of the great joy of watching your daughter grow up. I was deprived of a niece. Mum and Dad of a grandchild. It’s a miracle that years later you’ve found her. But one question bothers me, Sarah. Surely Fiona’s adoptive mother must have realized at some point Fiona wasn’t her child?”
Sarah assumed a calmness she didn’t feel. It was a question she had struggled with on her own. “If she did, she deliberately blinded herself to it. She loves Fiona. I can forgive her, because our daughter had a happy childhood, and when she’s ready she’ll come to us—her real parents. It would be too cruel to sever the ties with her adoptive family. Kyall and I don’t want that. Fiona loves them as they love her. They’ll always be allowed in her life.”
“Which is perhaps more than they deserve, if you look at it from a certain angle,” Christine said. “They had their happiness at the expense of yours. It’s an extraordinary story, Sarah. Both of us in our way were driven away by my grandmother. There’s a happy ending for you and Kyall and your beautiful daughter, but Mitch still doesn’t fully understand how it was for me. I laboured all my life for love and approval from my mother and grandmother. Instead I got never-ending criticism.”
“It hasn’t embittered you, Chris,” Sarah assured her, anxious to offer comfort. “Though understandably it has left its mark. Some childhood scars remain for life. But you’ve still got the same lovely warm nature. There are considerable similarities between your story and mine. We were both forced to leave the men we loved behind. Both of them found it very difficult battling rejection. Both felt abandoned. Both are proud men.”
“I think in a way Mitch hates me.” There was a hollow feeling inside Christine’s chest. “He certainly resents me.”
Sarah touched her friend’s shoulder. “That’s not true, Chris. I’m sure in his heart he continues to love you, but he’s fighting it. He doesn’t know your plans. He doesn’t know whether he can risk handing over his heart again. He’s on guard. A man is just as vulnerable as a woman. He has just as miserable a time of it when love bonds are broken.” Sarah sought Christine’s eyes. “Can I ask you have you thought ahead to the sort of life you really want? You’re famous now. You travel the world. Your photograph is everywhere. Could you turn your back on all that?”
“Tomorrow,” Christine replied like a shot.
“Are you sure? Your glamorous life over?” Sarah asked with some gravity.
Christine’s smile was almost peaceful. “I’ve lived it for years now, Sarah. I’ve found no one to take Mitch’s place in my heart. I’ve had a few serious relationships, thinking they might work. My biological clock is ticking over. I want children, family, a husband—my life partner. I want the sort of things that make a woman feel fulfilled, not to wonder what I missed out on.
“It’s not fame. That’s very overrated. Or it is in my case. I want to be loved. I want to be the most important person in the world to that special someone. I don’t want to finish up lonely. I regard having children as a great achievement, not making the cover of a glossy fashion magazine. By the same token I’m all for a woman having a career and marriage, though it seems to be a tall order. I’ve seen quite a few marriages crash because of career commitments. I guess for it to work both sides have to make compromises. The woman particularly. You’re a gifted doctor, but you need Kyall’s love. You need your daughter. And I’m sure you and Kyall want more children?”
Sarah nodded. “Oh, yes!”
“Women need to be loved dearly, don’t they?”
“Indeed they do.” Sarah, the doctor and the woman, responded emphatically. “Love bonds are what makes a woman’s inner life flourish. Some men can make it on power. Being loved is less significant. But Kyall and Mitch, though they were in a sense handed power at birth, have the same goals as we have. They want a full emotional life. They want wife and family, profound lifetime relationships. Both were devastated when we went away.”
“It wasn’t rejection.” Christine sought to defend their stand. “We were driven away. Nonetheless, the upshot is that Mitch has developed an inability to ever trust me again.”
“You truly want him?” Sarah gave the younger woman a look of deep seriousness.
“I’ve never really stopped wanting him,” Christine responded with great feeling.
“Then you’ll have to convince him of that.”
“If he’ll let me. It’s not as if I haven’t tried.”
“Come on! You’ve not tried hard enough yet.” Sarah said in a bracing tone.
“I suppose it’s too much to expect trust can be rebuilt overnight?”
“I prefer to say something positive to you, Chris. Mitch’s big and understandable fear is that even if you get back together at some juncture you’re going to hanker for the glamorous life you put behind you. His life, his legacy is here on Marjimba, about as far away from the bright lights as one can get. He can’t follow you. It’s not possible. Not with his history and heritage. You’re the one who has to come home. You’re the one who’d have to make a series of compromises as women have always done.”
“How would anyone think that would give me a hard time?” Christine’s expression contained mild incredulity. “I was born and bred in the bush. I’d never have left had my home life been happy, not decidedly dysfunctional.”
“Forgive me, Chris, but your mother will still be in your life. I know she loves you, but she never learned how to show it.”
“She certainly showed love to Kyall.” Christine’s answer was startlingly intense. “Adoration was showered on him, by Mum and Gran.”
“He’d have been happier without it, Chris. I know he found all that ‘loving’ somewhat manic.”
“It was. I was the one who was made to feel of little value. That’s why I can identify with Shelley Logan. It’s terrible the way she’s been made to carry the burden of her twin’s death. It must be very painful.”
“It is, but she’s no martyr. She has that wonderful thing called spirit. But Pat Logan definitely needs help. He’s been in a state of ongoing depression since he buried his little boy. Mrs Logan isn’t much better. I see her from time to time. She’s so down emotionally when she leaves that even my nerves are screaming.”
“It’s a wonder the tourists stay in that atmosphere.”
“They stay because Shelley finds ways to keep them thoroughly entertained. And well fed.”
“If I were Shelley I’d leave.” Christine opened the door of her room. “I don’t think anyone in her family has the right to push her so far. What’s more, if she did, Amanda might have to give herself a great big shake-up. Also, if Amanda’s considering Mitch as Prince Charming, she’d better think again. He’s mine!”
“Excellent!” Sarah laughed.
“Believe me—” Christine planted an affectionate kiss on Sarah’s cheek “—real love does last. It’s just taken me a while to realize it.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHRISTINE flipped back and forth in her bed during the few hours she had of sleep. Her fragmented dreams were all of heated conversations with Mitch, in which the infatuated Amanda was standing off in the wings, striking attitudes that indicated she was totally on Mitch’s side. A psychologist would find it all too simple to analyse: she was frightened she wouldn’t be able to regain Mit
ch’s trust, and her fear was compounded by the possibility he might turn to Amanda for female company and support.
Finally, at dawn, she fought out of the dream sequences stuck on replay. She threw back the bedclothes, went to the adjoining bathroom and took a quick shower to wash away the cobwebs. Afterwards she put on a T-shirt, jeans and her riding boots, gathering up her cream akubra as she let herself out of her bedroom door. The carpeted hallway was still softly lit, the packed household dreaming the dawn away.
At the stables she greeted and petted the glossy-flanked Wellington, who acted as pleased to see her as she was to see him. Saddled up, she rode out, the reins easily gathered in her left hand as she stooped to open then shut a side gate. She intended heading in the direction of the chain of billabongs that flowed through the station—always her favourite ride.
It was magic this time of morning. The great silence was broken by the dawn ritual of birdsong that began with little peeps and chirrups, gradually turning into a powerful cacophony of sound, like musical instruments tuning up for the greatest orchestra on earth. There were the high, sweet strings, wonderful cello notes, resonant wood-winds, golden brass, and they all came together in a magnificent symphony that carried for miles across the open plains and into the desert.
As she rode, the indigos, pinks and golds piled up on the horizon slowly vanished and the sky took on the brilliance of blue crystal. In the distance, across the spinifex-shrouded flats that so resembled wheat, she could see a long trailing cloud of red dust that signalled the approach of a mob of Marjimba cattle.
She wondered how long a delay there would be before Mitch found a replacement for Jack Cody, who was known to be furious at his dismissal. Julanne had told her over morning tea. Cody had been sacked without a reference, but paid right up. By now he’d be back on the road, looking for another stockman’s job, although his final comment to Mitch had been, “I’ll be back!”
