by Margaret Way
Second best for everyone. Mother, Father, you.I was your sister, but it was Genny you always cared about. Where is she now? On Tandarro. It should have been my world, but I’m the refugee!’ She suddenly rounded on Genny, driven by the demons of jealousy, only half exorcised. ‘That’s it, Genny!
Pansy eyes full of tears, pained little face, sexy as blazes. Compassionate little Genny and nobody’s fool.
He’s in love with you, don’t you know? No, don’t stare at me. It’s not ridiculous, I’ve known for years.
That’s history. Aren’t you interested, or has he had you already?’
‘Patricia!’ The word whipped out in the most appalled protest.
Trish whirled around to her mother, blinking her eyes. ‘Don’t try and stop me now, Mamma. I’ve told you all about Genny. Forget the frills, the big eyes and the silver curls. I hate the sight of her. She’s an opportunist, just like her mother.
Ingo’s open-handed slap sent her reeling. She collapsed into a chair, sobbing bitterly, one cheek blazing hotly, the other tear-stained and deathly white. Genny gripped Ingo’s hand, holding it tightly, afraid he might go even further. The flash in his eyes was startling.
‘You shouldn’t have done that!’ she protested.
‘She deserved it, the whimpering, whining little bitch. One should really convey one’s congratulations to her mother. That’s a splendid job of child-raising. A severe case of emotional instability.’
‘Oh, please, Ingo! ‘
Marianne Faulkner went forward quietly, trying to comfort her daughter. ‘She’s only fighting for a little of what belongs to her.’
The furious passion was gone from Ingo’s face. He was studying his mother and sister as though he had never seen them before in his entire life, and had no interest whatever in seeing them again. ‘Really?’ he said suavely. ‘I thought you both received a more than generous settlement.’
‘I‘m talking about love.’
There was silence for a moment, then Ingo’s contemptuous, humourless laugh. ‘I‘m sure your knowledge of the subject wouldn’t amount to much.’
‘We’ll go, Mrs Faulkner,’ Genny said wretchedly. ‘Things can only get worse. I’m very sorry!’
‘I just wanted to see my son!’ Marianne Faulkner said in a heartbreaking voice, her back to them.
‘So help me God, madam, you’ve seen him. Was it worth it?’ Ingo demanded.
‘I think so!’
‘Come with me, Ingo. Now.’ Genny whispered, not liking the infernally arrogant set of his head.
‘Yes, go with her right into hell!’ Trish burst out violently.
‘It would be better than Paradise with anyone else!’ Ingo said cruelly. ‘I’ll send you a postcard.’
It was like a nightmare and it had to come to an end. Genny lifted her head, listening. A door opened upstairs, then feet flew down the stairway, making quite a clatter. A moment later two excited young children appeared, a boy and a girl of seven and five, pausing in the doorway to catch their breath before they launched themselves at their uncle; their faces shining with pleasure, fair hair neatly brushed, hazel eyes reflecting their radiant happiness.
Ùncle Ingo. ‘
‘Hi, kids. ‘ Ingo said quietly, a hand on each shoulder.
Wrapped up in their own delight as they were, his subdued greeting wasn’t quite the shock it might have been. ‘Hello, Genny. ‘ Both of them were dancing up and down in a near-frenzy of anticipation, Sarah, wondering why Uncle Ingo wasn’t whirling her around as he usually did, Sean, the spokesman, telling them how great it was to see them.
‘We’re all ready!’ he proclaimed happily. ‘Mummy told us to wait upstairs for a while, but you were taking too long. What’s in the box in the hallway?’
‘The one you went mad about last time.’ Genny smiled, trying to act naturally.
‘Oh, boy!’ both children said together, their sweet little faces regarding their uncle with love and pride.
‘Aren’t you going to get up, Mummy?’ Sean asked.
‘We’re not going!’ Trish said flatly in case her voice should break.
Sean looked round at her, his face charged with astonishment. ‘You’re kidding! We’re all packed. I’ve done all my jobs and Sarah’s drunk all her milk. We’re longing and longing to go!’
‘There’s been a change in plan. ‘ Trish answered abruptly.
‘But we’re packed!’ Sean protested, not quite able to take the extraordinary news in.
Sarah’s radiant little face suddenly crumpled and she broke into a wail that threatened to deafen them.
‘You stop that!’ her mother flared, feeling too weak to stand on her feet.
‘Can’t they come?’ Genny rushed in on impulse. ‘They’re all ready. It seems so pathetic. I’ll take very good care of them. Can’t they come, Trish?’
Trish was stirred to maternal reconsiderations, her head bent, not looking at anyone. ‘Sean can go. ‘ she announced at last.
‘Both or neither!’ Genny said firmly, not having to bother about Sarah’s reaction, for she had started up her distressing cry again.
‘All right, take them!’ Trish cried out emotionally. ‘They don’t want me either!’
‘Show some good sense, dears’ Marianne Faulkner admonished her daughter quietly. ‘The children have been so looking forward to this. They’ll never forgive you.’
Trish laughed shortly, a queer little sound. ‘I could never face that. ‘ she said, her eyes bitter.
Ingo turned away from all of them, most definitely cutting the departures short. ‘Show me your things, Sean. I’ll put them in the car!’
‘Yes, sir. ‘ Sean raced ahead, pointing out two pieces of expensive luggage, one with a beautiful Victorian doll sitting on top, staring at them with her round brown eyes.
‘Take the doll, son, Sarah better carry it.’ Without a backward glance Ingo walked out to the car, hearing Genny’s clear voice telling the children tòKiss Mummy and Nanna goodbye. ‘ His mouth twisted with the irony of it. There was so much anger in his heart, yet Genny was incredibly tolerant, exquisitely compassionate for a girl who usually exulted in defying him. She could blaze and she could be so very, very tender. So many different things! He was disgusted with his sister. The urge to attack Genny on no provocation had proved irresistible: she really needed a psychiatrist. He had become very fond of the children, but if Genny wasn’t out in a moment he wasn’t going to wait.
She was there before he had even reached the car, Sean and Sarah clinging to either arm, Irene, the doll, not forgotten. ‘Hop in, kids!’ said Genny, opening the back door and seeing the children seated before she went to join Ingo, who was about to open the boot. He looked directly into her face, his silver eyes so keen that they seemed to be shooting rays of light through her.
‘Damn it, she’s hurt you, hasn’t she?’
‘Forget it. ‘ she said wryly. ‘Maybe she sees me like that.’
‘And what is she, with all her petty little jealousies? I thought she’d stifled all that. Compared to you, she’s led a charmed life!’
Genny touched her hand to her forehead. ‘If anyone else makes a snide remark about my mother, I’ll scream. ‘
‘You can scream until you run out of breath, but it won’t alter the truth. I could choke Flick for the dangers she’s exposed you to.’
‘What dangers?’ she said, closing her mind on one or two unpleasant incidents.
‘Don’t give me that!’ he said harshly, throwing the luggage into the boot. ‘Take your hands away.’
‘I can look after myself, Ingo.‘ she said, moving away.
‘You don’t know the first thing about yourself. Only poor old Hughie was a man of good sense and integrity -ah, forget it!’ he bit out, his mouth hard. ‘I’ve been worrying about you for years now.’
‘I‘ve come through all right, even if I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have one joyous day. Besides, you always made your presence felt!’
‘Someone h
ad to!’ he said bitterly.
‘Please don’t upset the children!’
‘All three of you, you mean? Right.‘ he said, slamming the boot down. ‘Let’s get the hell out of here. It’s wonderful to have such a delightful sister. My cup runneth over!’
‘She can’t help herself, Ingo. Go easy on her.’
‘She’s lucky I didn’t murder her,’ he retorted.
It wasn’t until they were all seated in the car that Trish came to stand at the door, lifting her hand. The children responded, vaguely perplexed by the turn of events, but so alive and expectant that they unanimously rejected all adult complications. They were off on a lovely adventure, and Sarah was busy telling her doll all about it. Genny thought to raise her hand as well, but found she just couldn’t. Her sense of charity had run out and she had only done it for the children anyway. Trish’s accusations she didn’t want to think about. Jealous frustration used any weapons. In some ways Trish was still, at twenty-eight, a maladjusted child. Genny stared before her, more hurt than she would ever admit. Ingo didn’t even trouble to look towards his sister reversing the car with marvellous precision down the difficult sloping curve and out on to the road.
Marianne Faulkner had come to stand behind her daughter, trembling with misery but unable to forgo one last glimpse of her son. He was very like her husband and she saw it plainly, deeply disappointed in her daughter.
‘That was unforgivable, Trish, the things you said. Were they really necessary?’
‘God knows. ‘ Trish said in a low, intense voice, humiliation flooding her. ‘I wish I hadn’t now. Did you see his face? He’s very like Father and I make no apology for saying it. He’d throw us all to the lions for Genny. No man has ever looked at me like that or been ready to defend me in the same furious way. ‘
‘My son is a man of strong passions,’ Marianne said gently. ‘I know now he will never forgive me. It couldn’t be otherwise. I left him alone when he was only a boy. He’ll never forgive me, no matter what Genny says.’
‘And why should she plead your cause?’ Trish demanded curtly.
‘Because I can see right through to her soul. I had no idea she was so beautiful-I imagined her more like Felicity. Sweet, silly Flick, though I always liked her. Her daughter is a woman of a different calibre. It can’t have been easy for her, not with those looks and Flick’s way of life.’
‘Oh yes, she’s the flower child, all right. And so pure. ‘
‘You should be grateful to her.’
‘Never.’ Trish maintained, pierced with hate. ‘I don’t know what Ian is going to say. He happily accepted an invitation too, and his leave starts in two weeks. None of them can see enough of Ingo.‘ Her thin face sharpened with misery. ‘Including me!’
‘The pity of it all!’ Marianne Faulkner turned away, for the car had gone, and she stood in the hallway uncertain of where to go. ‘We brought this all on ourselves. Whatever was I doing here, Trish?’
The naked pain in her mother’s face made Trish recover herself. She went tenderly to her, putting her arm about her mother’s shoulders and leading her back into the living room. ‘You said it yourself. You have a right to see your son.’
‘No, Trish. No right. I gave that up years ago. Now inevitably I have to bear the guilt and the pain.’
‘Meanwhile Gen has Ingo, Tandarro, and my children. ‘ Trish said violently.
Her mother looked up, unwilling to add to her follies. ‘Make an effort to help yourself, Trish. You have no reason to speak this way about Genny. Whatever you’ve told me at any time, I’ve always made up my own mind. Meeting Genny today has been something of a revelation. She could be your friend. Don’t let your jealousy destroy everything that’s good in you. You have to save yourself. It could change your life.’
‘You don’t understand, Mamma.’ Trish said in sick exasperation.
‘Oh, but I do.‘ Her mother looked right through her with her strange luminous eyes, so much like Ingo’s that Trish dropped into a chair, hiding her head. ‘He’s been very good to us, despite everything.’
‘Pride. ‘ Trish maintained in a muffled voice. ‘The Faulkner pride. Faulkner women good or bad don’t go begging. He’s been looking after Flick and Genny for years. They’re set to move in now.’
‘Why did you let the children go?’
‘I want them to know Tandarro.’
Marianne Faulkner closed her eyes in near-exhaustion. ‘You want them to have Ingo’s affection!’
‘Genny can’t have it all. There’s a great yearning in me to be loved, Mamma, Ingo’s always been a great part of my life. Even without him we’ve never been free of him or Father. It’s a great sorrow we ever left our part of the world!’
‘Well, my darling,’ said Marianne Faulkner, her eyes swimming, ‘we can’t do anything about it now.
Because of what I did, we all suffered. At the time it seemed all I could do. Marc had so little time to listen to my silly fears. His father never approved of me-Evelyn tried to be kind, but she was so under her father’s influence. It was something that given maturity I would never do again, but I was never given a second chance. Marc loved me, but he was tired of what he thought of as my weakness. He never realised the extent of his father’s antagonism. It was a sad story and you don’t want to hear it again.
Your father wasn’t the hard and ruthless man you remember. He was a proud man and I hurt him badly.
It seems extraordinary to me how I ever made such a terrible mistake. I should have stared and triumphed and outwitted the old man. I should never have deprived Ingo of his mother, or you of your father and brother. Because of me-because of me...’
‘Don’t, Mamma, please. I feel nearly dazed with upset. The only good thing is Genny will look after the children!’ And saying that, Trish suddenly broke into uncontrollable wild laughter, leaning forward in her chair with her arms tightly folded about her body. Happiness was a priceless gift. One should never dash it away with violent words.
CHAPTER SIX
In the way of nightmares, the shock and distress of the incident in Adelaide didn’t lessen and fall into unimportance with time. As the days slid by into weeks, Genny found herself becoming more and more affected by its memory. Trish had appointed herself some kind of executioner, killing all hopes of friendship between them. She flinched away from the cruel label so vehemently applied to herself and Flick, yet the word gave her pause. Ingo had been extremely generous to them both with his time and his money. He was, in fact, supporting them now. Did that automatically make them opportunists? Perhaps Marianne Faulkner thought the same thing as her daughter; Trish had obviously discussed them endlessly with her mother, Trish eaten up by jealous traumas, Marianne scarcely in the position to make a fair judgment, exiled as she was from Tandarro and all who came to be on it.
The whole incident had unwanted reverberations for Genny that she couldn’t brush aside, coming between her and her appetite and her usual dreamless nights. She began to lose weight and laughed a lot less, a thousand doubts splintering round in her head. Of course she had given Flick and Aunt Evelyn a softpedal version of their visit and they had cast it aside, fairly used to Trish’s uncomfortable little devils. The children were so engaging, their laughter so infectious that they were accepted at any price.
Trish was often appallingly unreasonable, and no doubt she would write and apologise for her behaviour. No one wished to broach the subject of Marianne Faulkner. There was nothing anyone could do there. They had lived long enough with Ingo to realise that.
Trish did write her letter of apology, which Ingo read with irony and dumped in the waste-paper basket, obviously able to sublimate every last feeling, his dark face so aloof and solitary that Genny, who had been offered an apology as well, just turned away from him, her tender young heart bruised with the cruelty of it all. At such times she wondered if any woman could ever get close to Ingo again.
Despite the agonised tenor of Trish’s letter, Genny was fairly certain t
hat Trish would say the same things again, with probably a few more terrible comments. It didn’t appear to bother Ingo, who had a fair sprinkling of saint and devil in him as well. He simply told Genny with a half-mocking smile that she could decide if and when Trish ever set foot on Tandarro again. Though the statement had been delivered with nonchalance, she realised he meant it. She realised too, and the knowledge came almost too late, that she would never escape him. Ingo was ruthless. Bitter, and disillusioned. She was also so much a part of him that the terrible meaning of it was love.
She was helpless now and she didn’t really know what went on behind his handsome, sombre face, His hold on her was relentless, like a giant spider’s web spun from childhood. She could no more prevent him from taking over her life than stop the sunrise. Both brilliant images were the everyday, ordinary things that she in her innocence had taken so much for granted. Ingo had a flair for directing lives. Hers he seemed to have engulfed completely, and it had been so easily achieved she had not been aware of it until now.
It was quite a relief to have Dave arrive, filling in her time. He was relishing his surroundings, very good with the children, expressing his pleasure so charmingly that Aunt Evelyn gave her unstinting approval: no small thing. Sally, who flew in a few days later, was not quite so popular with the household, which didn’t really matter because she managed to keep herself very much by Ingo’s side, riding out with him every day, beautifully turned out, even accompanying him on his weekly mercy visit to old Colonel Hastings’ property, the Colonel having been a lifelong friend of Ingo’s grandfather. Sally had settled in nicely, full of enthusiasm and ready peals of laughter, a complete contrast to Genny in every way, because Genny, to everyone’s marked attention, had gone very quiet.
Dave, blissfully happy in her company again, found time to remark on it as they kept one eye on the children who were bathing in the crystal-clear shallow reaches of the Five-Mile lagoon. Every day they did something different, but the children always insisted on a swim first, not surprising in the dry heat.
