Black Ingo

by Margaret Way

  He made a sound of complete and utter exasperation, holding her more gently now almost without his volition, though the tremor was still in her body. ‘What are you frightened of?’ he asked tautly. ‘Even your lashes are wet.’

  She turned her head along his hard chest, her voice muffled. ‘I don’t mean to do the things I do. Did I scratch you? I’m sorry.’

  ‘Oh, please don’t try to comfort me,’ he said acidly. ‘I’m Black Ingo, remember.’

  ‘But I love you!’ she said passionately. ‘At least I used to love you, only something’s happened between us. Show me your hand.’

  ‘Oh, go to the devil! ‘ he said, hard and relentless.

  ‘You throw me off balance,’ she persisted. ‘You keep teasing me. How much do you think I can take?’

  ‘You can take. God. Let’s reflect on that. How long has it been this time? Six or seven hours, and I’m ready to strangle you.’

  ‘But you’re so appallingly cruel to me.’

  ‘You pitchforked into me, might I remind you.’

  ‘So I did,’ she agreed. ‘I can’t for the life of me see why you want me here.’

  ‘I’m none too certain myself.’

  She drew a breath like a tortured child, letting him cradle her as though it were vital she rely on his strength, filled with an intense desire to keep him as he was at this minute, unwillingly tender, the thud of his heart striking into her. For no reason at all, on rare occasions, their antagonisms became invisible.

  She felt undeniably and utterably safe and needed. Precisely a possession, but someone, in an unguarded moment, special.

  ‘What is this?’ he said beneath his breath, bending his head so that the tips of her curls tickled his chin. ‘

  Some kind of reward?’

  ‘You usedn’t to mind!’ she appealed.

  ‘I can’t believe that now. You simply didn’t have this intolerably slender body: What would Dave think if he could see you now?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ She lifted her head, her dark eyes bewildered.

  His white teeth actually snapped, his eyes losing what little serenity they had attained. ‘Excuse me, Giannina,’ he said, putting her forcibly away from him. ‘We’ll pick up this conversation at another time, perhaps in a year or so. It’s too beautiful a night to stay indoors. Do you want to come for a ride?’

  ‘A ride?’ she echoed.

  ‘Damn it, isn’t that what I said? You’ll have to get out of that expensive bit of nothing. We’ll take the horses.’

  Her small face, that had looked rather mortally endangered, flared into expectant life. The swift lurch of pleasure that shot through her was reflected in her eyes, lingering inexplicably on all the splendid dark arrogance she thought she would resist until the day she died. ‘What a marvellous idea!’

  ‘The only one I can think of if I want to save my soul.’

  ‘Where shall we go?’ she asked.

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t drag you off into the lignum.’ She reached out and touched the scratch on his hand briefly. ‘I’m sorry about that.’

  ‘I’ll get even, never mind. Get cracking, Genny, I’m full of merciless, wild longing. Head me off. You’ve no idea how fragile you look.’

  ‘Oughtn’t we wait here for Flick?’

  Ingo frowned. ‘Flick can take care of herself. I imagine, to her wonder, that she’s found out Dan is a gentleman.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be lovely if it were true. ‘

  ‘It is. There are quite a few of us.’

  ‘Oh, you beauty!’ She suddenly took a full turn around the room like an enthusiastic ten-year-old, the skirt of her chiffon dress flying about her legs, its vivid poppy red dazzling her golden tan.

  ‘Just give me five minutes. ‘

  ‘I thought I’d given you a lifetime.’

  ‘So you have. It’s just that I’ve got to make a temporary break from your dominance. Understand?’

  ‘No, I don’t! It suits you sometimes, which you conveniently manage to forget about.’

  ‘I‘m sure it’s only temporary, Ingo.’

  ‘If it isn’t, I’ll clear up all your confusions in a matter of minutes.’

  Genny’s eager, balletic movements came to a full stop. She stood wistfully at a little distance from him, staring up into his face. ‘No, I have to do it myself, even if I don’t know why. Please put some disinfectant on that scratch. It looks ragged.’

  ‘I promise I will in a couple of days. Right now I want to look at it and make you look at it. It hurts so much, I’m lucky I’m alive!’

  ‘It could have been worse!’ she said uncertainly.

  ‘In every way,’ he said. ‘You’ll never really know.’

  ‘I’m sure I’ve plagued you with scratches before.’

  ‘That was a while back. You were about fourteen at the time, just turning into a terrible urchin. Your future husband had better study for his Black Belt.’

  She smiled, intensely conscious of the dancing lights in his eyes. ‘You tell him the kind of family he’s marrying into.’

  ‘He knew long ago.’

  He was watching her in complete absorption and she turned abruptly away from him instinctively fighting his magnetism. ‘Flick!’ she said urgently. ‘I don’t suppose we would go via Spirit Hill?’

  ‘Oh, Gianrlina.’ he said with sharp amusement. ‘Grow up!’

  ‘That sounded like a prayer,’ she said, surprised.

  ‘I‘ve tried everything else I can think of. If you’re not down at the stables in under ten minutes, I won’t wait.’

  ‘Yes, you will. I’m used to your threats.’

  ‘And I’m used to your reversals, you’re a capricious little wretch. File your claws while you’re at it!’

  ‘I’ll bring some cream back!’ she promised, almost flying to the door, a slight graceful figure against the massive cedar double doors.

  ‘Yes,’ he said dryly, ‘it could be fatal to overlook one of your scratches!’

  The night sky was beautiful, the vast purple-veiled black dome spangled with millions of diamonds, swirling in currents, thousands gauze and indistinct, thousands more burning brightly; blazing over the sandhills, the fantastic network of water channels, the ironstone ranges. the Timeless Land, the ancient home of the oldest tribes on earth. The air was heave with flower scent, boronia, wild lime, the unusual little lilies that grew in thick clusters in amongst the river reeds, and directly above them, with shattering brilliance, the guardian of the Great South Land, the Southern Cross, holding dominion over the night sky. Its particular stars formed the perfect outline that had been worshipped for thousands of years before recorded history. Jirrunjoonga, the Guiding Star. Jirrunjoonga, the jewelled home of the Sky People.

  Genny’s face was uplifted to its eternal splendour. Tandarro at all times had a rare magic for her, but night was bewitching, the sound of chanting around distant fires, the unearthly howling of the dingoes, the song of the wind. She couldn’t quite understand it, but she felt exultant. In the morning she might be Genny Mora. Tonight she was Giannina with magic in her bloodstream. The colt, Caspian, could race like the wind and she revelled in its speed, the responsiveness that made it such a joy to ride.

  If she rode far enough and high enough to the crest of the hill country she could bring down an uncatchable star, a perfect, extravagant diamond daisy. The wind was whipping through her hair, delighting her with its purity and flavour. The years she had been windswept! The halcyon years of Tandarro! The immense glittering of the stars seemed to be hypnotising her, she wanted passionately to abandon herself to this fantastic world, the world she had known through all the years of her childhood.

  Her clear voice rose above the wind. ‘I‘ll race you into that pocket of trees.’

  Whether Ingo understood her or not, he gave her the advantage, switching through a walk into a full gallop.

  Genny reined in under the trees and turned the colt’s head about. ‘Ingo, where are you?’

 
It was strangely silent with the breeze whispering around her, her pulses throbbing with a primitive kind of excitement, a frantic rhythm of life. It wasn’t possible that he was still behind her. She knew exactly the way he could ride, not to mention the speed of Red Dust, the big chestnut stallion. Nevertheless she made a small movement of worry, swinging her head about repeatedly, her eyes trying to pierce the fresh, fragrant gloom. ‘Ingo, where the devil are you? Obviously I’ve won and you can’t bear to be beaten!’ Her clear young voice began to vibrate a little wildly, puzzled and inexplicably threatened by the dark. A ghostly green firefly flicked past her head and she made a swipe at it, almost spooking the colt. ‘Ingo!’

  ‘Lost someone?’ Suddenly he was beside her, on foot, pulling her out of the saddle, his hands biting into the soft skin at her waist. ‘Don’t delude yourself, kiddo, you can’t beat me at anything.’

  ‘I‘m promising myself I will!’

  ‘That’s obvious. Let’s go down to the water. It will be cool there.’

  ‘After that mad flight I’m nearly in favour of a swim,’ she said.

  ‘I’m not game to go as far as thatl’ he said dryly. ‘Much too disturbing.’

  ‘All right then, but for heaven’s sake, I spent years splashing you.’

  ‘Nothing remains static,’ he retorted. ‘Even my self control has its limits!’

  ‘You were such a comfort and encouragement to me then,’ she said in a slightly melancholy fashion.

  ‘And you were a very sweet child, a regular little cherub. The violent change overcame you at about thirteen or fourteen, I can’t be sure. You began to hate me then.’

  ‘No! ‘

  ‘Oh yes!’ he said quietly.

  She looked up at him, surprised. ‘You sound as though it’s troubled you, and nothing has troubled you before!’

  ‘Little idiot!’ he exclaimed.

  The lagoon, shining and very deep, was now clearly visible. ‘Oh, doesn’t it look inviting!’

  ‘For safety’s sake, we’ll just sit on the bank.’

  The splendid sheet of water was a place of live magic with a legend attached to it. Lofty river gums lined its banks, scented acacias, long sprays of the flowering bauhinias, cream and pink and deepest magenta, the air heady with the sweet musky perfume of the bellshaped lilies that grew thickly in among the river reeds. The leaves rustled on the night wind, the branches of the trees heavy with nesting birds that in the pre-dawn made the wild bush resound with their full-throated symphonies. Silent though they were now, Genny could almost hear their timeless music, the shrieking of the great colonies of corellas, the whistling and the sweet chirruping, the cello tones, and the high frenzied choruses by the massed choirs.

  Ingo settled his back against the trunk of a slender gum with yellow citrus-scented blossom, drawing Genny down beside him and turning her so that her head rested against his bent knees. Almost immediately he collected small pebbles in his hand, sending them in a series of skipping flourishes across the silvery-sheened waters.

  ‘That’s a very well-practised techniques’ she said idly.

  ‘The one thing I can’t teach you-how to throw. Women have a frightful aim.’

  ‘They still manage to get what they want,’ she observed.

  ‘Don’t I knows’

  ‘It’s beautiful, this placel’ Genny said fervently. ‘A hallowed spot. Remember the bellbird that used to nest here?’

  ‘It’s gone further up the creek. Along with the pelicans.’

  ‘I think I could remain a captive here for every she said, looking up at the blossoming, beautiful stars.

  ‘Listen to the water running over those stones. Music.The sound of the wind and the pull of the stars. I never feel this free in the city. There’s not this wonderful communion with Nature. I love the way those willows drape themselves into the pool. Isn’t this the home of a water nymph?’

  ‘The one that got turned into a White Ibis, so the legend goes. Some nights she’s visible, dancing over there on the far side.’

  ‘Have you ever seen her?’ she asked.

  ‘No, I haven’t, which is rather sad. I’ve seen all the wishing rings the boys leave about in the hope of a shadow dance.’

  ‘That’s interesting. I wonder how Flick’s going?’

  ‘Probably Dan’s fallen under her influence. Woman magic beats all hell out of everything. Even the Sky People.’

  ‘It’s curious the way things don’t touch her deeply. Poor old Hughie’s only been dead a year.’

  ‘Long enough! Surely you’re not inviting my comments, Giannina? I’ve always had the strong impression you can’t tolerate the slightness criticism of Flick.’ Ingo sounded wry.

  ‘I‘m not criticising, I’m just remarking, and then only to you. You understand her, though I knew you never approve of these inevitable complications.’ She gave a faint sigh, her small face shimmering like a pearl. ‘It is strange, though, the way nothing has a deep effect on her.’

  ‘When her actions have a far-reaching effect on you? Nothing can be done about Flick. She’s very sweet and even lovable, but she’s still a penance.’

  ‘Don’t say that!’ she protested quickly.

  ‘I don’t have to convince you, Giannina, you know, so let’s drop it. I was rather enjoying our unfamiliar harmony.’

  ‘Yes, let’s kiss and make up.‘ she said flippantly.

  ‘What a good idea. ‘

  She tensed. ‘I was only fooling. We’ve never done anything like that.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh, kiss and make up, you know. We’re not the kissing kind.’

  He bent his dark head, shadowing her face. ‘That would be really funny if it were true.’

  ‘Well, you know what I mean. I don’t mean Sally or all those other sex objects, I mean us.’

  ‘You’re beginning to worry me. Flick may have done more-damage than I thought.’

  ‘Come to think of it, you do kiss Flick coming and going. Why not me?’

  ‘Flick’s easy to rain kisses on,’ he said lightly.

  ‘And I’m like Medusa with a head full of snakes.’

  ‘Let’s see.‘ He speared his hand into her silky curls, twisting her head back against his knee. ‘No, the same gossamer soft strands. Suppose I start kissing you. Coming and going, that is.’

  ‘Let’s leave things the way they are now,’ she said hastily.

  ‘I said your education needs broadening. I carried it so far, I might as well take it the rest. Are you sure Dave’s got red blood in his veins?’

  ‘Sadist.’

  ‘I don’t like that. You really say the most unforgivable things.’

  ‘And I don’t like being the butt of your little jokes.’

  ‘I’m not laughing and neither are you,’ he said.

  ‘I’m beginning to think I made a mistake in coming.’

  ‘It’s too late to do anything about it novel’ Beneath the mocking humour was a hint of sensuality that filled her with an unholy panic. Fear whispered along her spine.

  ‘Your cheeks are very flushed,’ he said conversationally. ‘I can feel the heat off your skin.’

  ‘My blood boils very easily.’

  ‘That makes two of us.’

  ‘You’re forgetting I’m used to you,’ she said breathlessly.

  ‘Are you?’ he asked sardonically. ‘You weren’t even certain of your welcome, that’s how much you know about me.’

  ‘I know you do the most dreadful, unexpected things.’

  ‘Not at all. This has been years coming. I’m tired of the masquerade anyway.’

  ‘Don’t you dare experiment on me.‘ she cried out, exasperated.

  ‘Even you, Giannina, know when your number is up,’

  ‘Please, Ingo!’ she held up a staying hand, touching his cheek. ‘I apologise for everything I’ve ever done.

  I’ve forgotten what it was.’

  ‘I haven’t, but I’ll accept your apology for what it’s worth. The thing
is, Giannina, you can’t stop what’s happening. In fact, you have no choice in the matter. Give in gracefully, seeing there’s no escape.’

  Her fingers clenched convulsively on his, vainly trying to soothe him, but he forced her head back, holding it in position, her soft mouth parted with the slight, painful jerk on her silky curls.

  ‘You’ll be sorry.’ she promised him wrathfully, her true nature emerging, her dark eyes flashing in her cameo face.

  He only laughed, anticipating her struggles, holding her still. Then with marvellous insolence he bent his dark head and barely brushed her mouth with his own. Just a shiver of feeling, yet its shock was as complete as a ravishment. Gentry let out her breath, trembling violently, seeing him as the ultimate tormentor, driven to playing this cat-and-mouse game with her. Strong feelings were deep-running within her–not love, nor hate, but something in between. She wasn’t Ingo’s plaything, but her own woman and all her old antagonisms began to wash up like a tidal wave. He had his own special way of triggering off her violent moods, almost as if he enjoyed them, his hands pinning her wrists with an unconquerable strength.

  Still she struggled, fiercely, but oddly mechanically, as if she had been long since programmed to be at war with him. She was blind to the beautiful, bewitching stars, the fragrant soft purple peace of the night. ‘You don’t know what you want, do you?’ he ground out, lifting her with one perfect, flowing movement right across his knees.

  ‘You think you can do anything you like.‘ she raged at him, her voice breaking pathetically and her eyes shining with tears.

  ‘I’m only doing what we’re both craving.’

  He found her mouth with an unbearable passion, a fierce kind of necessity that made her heart give a great bound, quivering in her breast like a mad thing. The shock was so tumultuous that her mouth parted of its own accord under that wild questing, a punishment as driving as it was darkly relentless.

  She could feel her body go limp against him, a small moan escaping her that made him loosen his cruel hold. Her small head was thrown back against his shoulder and he lifted her even closer to him, deliberately, his hand curving over her breast to feel her heart storming into his palm.