Til Morning Comes

by Lisa Ann Harper

  * * *

  The month of May brought Mal to her twenty-sixth birthday. Jellie wanted to throw a party in her honour. Mal was all for letting it pass, but she would hear none of it. “You must make up a list and I’ll send out the invitations,” she pursued.

  “Jells, people are more casual these days.”

  “No. I can do up a fun one on the computer and send it as an E-mail,” she countered doggedly. “Just give me their addresses.” She would not be deterred. Mal looked sceptical. “I can do this, honestly.” Her eyes blazed with certainty as she gave an emphatic nod and Mal knew it would be in Jellie’s best interest to give in to her.

  “All right love. It would be fun to have a bit of a bash and thank you, but only if the drinks are on me.”

  Once her mind was turned in the direction of this event she threw herself into the swing of things, with zest. They would have it catered to be relieved of kitchen responsibilities. She contacted De-Lish Hospitality for Jellie, who derived great satisfaction from working with the chef. They spent a profitable hour going through all the interesting selections of hors d’oeuvres to circulate throughout the evening, hot and cold. She was reminded of Mama, when on the odd occasion she would burst in to find her carefully selecting the menus with Mrs. Aldred and she would be allowed to stay until they were done. She was coming to appreciate these spasmodic vignettes and cherish the experience, free now to share the memories with Mal. This made them even more special. No longer did she need to fear the past or was saddened by it.

  Mal looked after the drinks as promised. She phoned Tudor Court Cellars and put in an order which was really over the top. She wanted to be sure that all preferences would be accommodated. Anything not drunk could go down to start their own cellar. While she set to with the list, Jellie amused herself on the computer pulling up every design she could access and not making a decision until she had exhausted all avenues. In the end she selected a cute and colourful depiction of a pony kicking up its hooves, mane flying tail kinked in frivolity, inviting the reader to join them at the best darned corral in town. She added a border of lucky horseshoes to finish it off.

  Unfortunately, this month was the harbinger of contention between Mal and her parents. They were over the disappointment of not having their daughter with them for Christmas, but now the phone call had come to let her know that Gavin and his girlfriend had decided to make it official. He and Kryssi Blake were to be married. June and Stan were exceptionally pleased this had all come about. They thought Kryssi a lovely girl and she made Gavin very happy.

  The wedding was going to be a special affair for the Mason family and the Blakes would be sparing no expense to give their daughter the send-off she deserved. It would be an August wedding in the cool of the year, so she had ample time to get herself organised.

  “Mum, I don’t see how I can get away just now, were just getting things sorted. There’s no way I can take time off. Nigella needs me here.”

  “Mallory, you’ve been gone nearly five years. Don’t you think it’s time you thought of your family, too?” June’s voice had taken on an edge of impatience. “Anyway, who is this person that you put her before us?” she had asked caustically.

  “Mum, it’s not that. I would like to be there; to be a part of it all and to see you and Dad. Of course I would.” She had been disconcerted to find herself on the defensive.

  “Well, what’s stopping you?” June had asked tersely with implied criticism. Then her voice had softened, she didn’t want this to be an argumentative phone call. “The other thing to mention, while we’re talking about weddings is that Dad and I would love to hear you’ll be settling down soon.” Her warmth had returned. “Have you found any nice young man over there? If you come back, perhaps you’ll meet someone here? My, wouldn’t a double wedding be fabulous?”

  Mal had no immediate come back to all this. What could she say? “Listen Mum, leave it with me and I’ll see what I can do,” had been her eventual response, still struggling with the proposals. “As to the other … no, I haven’t met anyone.” The call had concluded under distinctly conflicting circumstances. She could tell her mother was not pleased, but she hadn’t been the least prepared for such a request and as a result, had finished off unconvincingly tongue-tied.

  For the next few days Mal was very much exercised by this tight corner. She knew she really should make the effort to do this, but it was true there was too much happening at Driftwood. She really couldn’t see how it was possible. In addition – she was Jellie’s official guardian and carer. Could she get someone else for her? How would she take to that?

  A week later she called Australia and her mum answered. This time the call went even worse. Her mother just could not see.

  “You never spoke about this person before and now she seems to be absorbing your life.” Her voice had risen in that way Mal knew would lead to appeals to her better nature; meant to tug at her heart-strings and make her yield.

  “Nigella’s my responsibility Mum. I’m her guardian. It’s all legal,” she had retorted, with sudden fierceness.

  This set June back. “Are you telling me there’s no-one else can do this job but you?” she had asked scathingly. It was a cutting way to put it, but the words were out already.

  “No Mum, I’m sure there are other people out there capable enough. It’s just not as simple as you want to make out,” she had tried to explain, shielding the truth even to herself. She had not wanted to go into detail, but had felt she was losing ground.

  A snap of temper erupted. “I’m not trying to ‘make anything out’, as you say. I’m just trying to grasp why you don’t want to be a part of this family. Gavin will be very upset. His own sister! We all will. It’s not like he’ll have loads of family on his side of the church.”

  Again Mal had had to let it go, promising to get back as soon as. She felt quite disrupted by all this. She was supposed to be excited over the up-coming party, but here she was wishing it would all go away and on top of everything, Con had made the suggestion to take Jellie to a dinner dance in the city. A friend had invited him to a works’ function. She could see Jellie really wanted to go. She herself, was not invited and although she wanted to say ‘no’, she had to say ‘yes’. Over and above all this, her boss was adding pressure to increase her hours. So far, she had been able to stall the change, but she could see time was running out. It was obvious Nikki was under considerable constraint too, with such an inordinate increase in their caseloads.

  It hit her surprisingly hard to witness Jellie’s exuberance at the prospect of this special evening: the clothes, the hair, the jewellery and for this occasion she wanted to wear her pearls. Everything had to be agonised over. She put on a compliant face, but inside was being eaten up with frustration. It felt like her head was too full of packing and soon would be ready to explode if something did not give – and soon.

  “Mal, is everything all right?” She watched her face.

  “Of course Possum, why do you ask?” Jellie could see the difficulty she had in forming the words.

  It was the Friday evening before the ‘big’ night. At last she had everything together, including matching shoes and evening purse, both adorned with pearl droplets. Her full length dress was a gentle, silvery green, satin brocade which showed off her colouring to perfection. She had chosen a slim, low-waisted skirt as it reminded her of Mama at the last dinner. She liked to feel she was emulating as closely as possible, her mother’s style. She was sure if she could see her, she would have her approval. They were sitting together after dinner, the day’s work done and the dress carefully put away until tomorrow.

  “I wish you were coming too. Is it something you would like?” She would not feel so confident amongst all those strangers without Mal, but with Con by her side she was sure she could get over it.

  “Do you think I’m upset because I’m not going to the ball?” Mal tried to make a joke of it, but the expression in her eyes was obscure, with only the shadow of a
smile to touch her lips.

  “Are you?” The green eyes darkened in their search to find the truth in the face before her.

  She raised her eyes to meet them: “Not at all. Dinner dances aren’t my style,” she responded rather curtly, dismissing the idea.

  “Something is bothering you Mal. You haven’t been yourself, I can tell,” she persisted, concern shading her sympathetic features. Mal wouldn’t spoil her pleasure, but Jellie had picked up on her frame of mind. She decided to explain about her parents’ plans for the wedding. Jellie’s immediate response; she should go. She could manage on her own.

  “Con will help me with Driftwood. Anyway, we’ve got Nessa and EJ in every day … and Tyson on the week-ends.” Her tone was final on the matter.

  Mal remained silent. She was conscious of her uncertainty. All this was true, but still – why was she not happy at this prospect? If she searched her heart, perhaps she would find that green-eyed goddess lurking there. If she left Con in charge, would she return to find the trajectory of her life completely changed, perhaps another wedding? What a hapless turn of events. She was not liking the look of herself, or her life, just now. It seemed that all vitality and any decisive spirit had been exhausted.

  Jellie watched the outward signs of the inner turmoil that was turning Mal inside out. She wished she could say something to make her feel better, but she didn’t know what that might be. Instead, bestowing a look of tenderness on this unhappy woman, she got up from her seat to put her arms around her and hold her tight. Mal melted into the embrace. The warmth of this response caused Jellie to experience a powerful well-spring of emotion. It overflowed from her heart to her lips as she bent her head to kiss the hot, tear-stained cheek. “Dearest, what’s upsetting you. You know you can tell me anything.”

  Mal pulled away. She didn’t like this ‘girlie’ stuff and saw it as a weakness to be subjugated – an inexcusable ‘giving in’. Nonetheless, how could she resist? Jellie’s response to her need had glowed so pure and bright it had melted the ice of her darkness until it flowed like a river of purifying spring water, washing away her pain and her doubts.

  “Oh, take no notice of me Jells. I think I’ve been over-doing it at work … and then this wedding business …” She looked up at her and tried to smile. The brave face did not quite come off, but she still stayed close, unwilling to break totally free.

  “You don’t have to make a decision yet, do you?” she questioned, turning her luminous eyes on Mal, their flecks of green and blue irresistibly drawing her in. “You could give it time and see what eventuates,” she suggested, hoping to temper the bleakness in that unsheltered voice.

  “Right again Jells,” she conceded. “Nothing has to be decided right away. Who knows what the circumstances might be, come August?”

  * * *

  Jellie’s evening at the dance did not live up to expectations, but it started out well enough. Con collected her in good time. She looked stunning; a most beautiful attachment to his persona and Mal sent her off in high spirits.

  “Now don’t you worry Mallory, she’s in good hands,” he assured her loftily. “I’ll take good care of this precious package,” he added as he scanned Jellie’s eyes and gave her waist a proprietary squeeze. He looked debonair in his tuxedo, a red carnation in the buttonhole to match the cummerbund. A cool dude in trendy threads, there was no mistaking that.

  They arrived at the conference rooms, glitteringly arranged for an evening of celebration, slightly late. They were a handsome couple and all heads turned. More gratifying even, was the admiration he observed in Jason’s eyes when the introductions were made. Jason’s girlfriend Leah, who was a year or two older than Jellie, was petite and bubbly. She had met Jason in the local coffee shop, when their lunch breaks coincided. True, Jellie didn’t know anyone, but Jason and Leah were in high spirits too, out to have a good time; it was easy to be swept along on this exuberant tide of merrymaking.

  After the dinner, she had to sit through meaningless deliberations, but she didn’t mind. She and Leah were in the same boat, every now and then exchanging conspiratorial glances and having a giggle over what they wrote off as ‘pontificating’. It seemed that annual awards were to be distributed to those considered worthy and Jason was counted among this number. They duly admired the pin on his return from the dais. Eventually, the formal proceedings came to an end and the real festivity could begin.

  Further introductions ensued and as the evening worn on and dancing was in full swing, Jellie found herself with many different partners. Con was an accomplished dancer and helped her to move her body to the beat in the disco and Latin numbers. Approaching midnight the tempo slowed, became more romantic and couples seemed to pair off. By this stage everyone was well tanked and hanging loose. Jellie noticed how Jason wrapped himself around Leah as though they were one unit on the floor. Con wanted to dance like this, but to her it felt strange. She held herself stiffly, slightly pulling away.

  “Come on Nigella loosen up,” the smile on his lips dying before it was real and his words, although slightly slurred, were commanding. Con was in total control of his faculties and he knew what he wanted. Jellie, so unused to such physical proximity began to panic. Con was strong. The music came to an end and before the band set up another number, she suggested they get a breath of air. Although the night was windy, French-doors opening onto the balcony had been left ajar for fresh air. They stepped outside, the only couple, to lean on the balustrade. It was a romantic, starry night, the cold air refreshing on their faces. Con took Jellie in his arms and, searching her face whispered: “You are the most irresistible woman I have ever met.” With this statement he fastened his eyes on her lips, bent his head and brought his mouth to hers. She was so taken by surprise, there was no time to pull away and she found herself on the receiving end of a most thorough exploration of her mouth. Her head pounded as her thoughts began to whirl, out of control. What could she do? Con was her friend. Was this what was to be expected? As friends, should she be enjoying this? She wasn’t! But she didn’t want to upset him. He was not meaning to do her harm – was he? At last he stopped. This was a relief. However, more upsetting than the kiss was the way he was pressing himself against her; his brawny, but supple body moving easily, as though to grind himself right through. This part she found undeniably repellent. Fortunately, a boisterous wind kept banging the doors. The loud, incessant noise served to remind him where he was. He took her hand and steered her back inside, insensitive to any previous reluctance.

  “There you are! We thought we’d lost you.” Jason’s voice rang out as he approached them, Leah in tow. “We’re going to call it a night,” he informed Connor with a wink. To make quite sure he got the message he added: “We’re going back to my place.” Con had no such pad.

  “OK guys. Enjoy your night.” Hollow words since he did a poor job of keeping the resentment out of his voice. The girls said their goodbyes then Con and Jellie wandered back to their table. A few others were there, nursing night-caps. “You want something, lovey?”

  “Just a coffee if they still have some.”

  His face compressed with remembered exasperation, but he made no comment and soon returned with the coffee for her and a Chivas on the rocks for himself. He talked a little with his neighbours, but when the band struck up a samba, he grabbed her hand and they were off again. She liked this better. It was more fun; less intense. Perhaps she had been over-reacting. Two of these dances then the band slowed down. This time she knew what to expect and followed his lead. She held her body with the assumption of compliance and they danced well together. Con picked up on the difference and tried for another kiss. He kept it brief, but Jellie felt trapped, sensing more to come.

  “Let’s go somewhere private.” His lips pulled thinner as his eyes studied her.

  “No Con, I don’t want to.” Panic was in her voice, images of Fulton House in her head. He didn’t hear it, or deliberately took no notice. This time, lost in his own lust he d
ragged her in the other direction, towards the corridor where he found a deserted room. Inside he immediately grabbed her and started again. Jellie was ready.

  “Connor no, I don’t want this!” she cried out.

  With lust and the drink combined, he was not about to stop. His heat made him stronger, but Jellie was determined to fight free and in a moment, when he stumbled, off balance in his fumbling, she helped him over with a big shove and made for the door. Going down, his head caught the side of a conference desk, it tipped over with a loud crash breaking his fall. He remained there, sprawled on the floor, but she didn’t wait to see if he got up.

  Shocked and angry tears flooded Jellie’s eyes. She dashed them away, knowing what she must do. She collected her silk purse and made for the wash-room. With a shaky thumb she SMS’d Mal who immediately called her back. Not taking time to go into detail, in a voice she struggled to bring under control, she gave the address and said she would be waiting in the downstairs Ladies.