Bewildered Haven

by Helen Bianchin

  Zachary's call came through shortly before seven that evening, and the sound of his voice sent Jenny's spirits soaring high into the clouds.

  'Jenny?' The deep timbre of the voice so close to her ear brought the colour rushing to her cheeks.

  'Yes. Is that you, Zachary?'

  'Don't you recognise my voice, Jenny-wren?' he drawled calmly, and Jenny could detect a humorous slant in his tone.

  'We—we haven't spoken together very often oil the telephone,' she stammered in a rush, and his low answering chuckle did crazy things to her senses.

  'Neither we have, Jenny. However, don't let it bother you, for there's years of practice ahead of you.'

  Jenny gulped and clutched the receiver a little tighter. 'How was the flight down?' she queried, feeling suddenly shy.

  'Calm and immemorable,' he said matter-of-factly. 'Any further repercussions with Lise?'

  'No. She—she didn't come in yesterday, and today she deigned not to speak to anyone very much—me, least of all,' Jenny replied with a spark of humour.

  'She'd be well advised to keep it that way,' Zachary declared implacably, before continuing gently, 'Missing me, Jenny-wren ?'

  'Yes,' she replied simply.

  'Perhaps it's just as well there's several hundred miles separating us,' he commented significantly, and there was a certain wryness in his voice. 'This conversation is singularly lacking in that I can hear you, but can't touch you.'

  Jenny smiled into the receiver and couldn't resist teasing. him a little. 'A little abstinence… Zachary Benedict,' she grinned at her own reflection in the hall mirror.

  'That is soon to be remedied, Jenny Meredith,' he implied with an emphasis that sent the colour flooding her cheeks.

  'I think I'd better let you go,' Jenny concluded on a slightly strangled note. 'Even at a distance, you're more than I can handle.'

  'Jenny-wren, I do believe you're blushing. Are you?' He chuckled deeply and Jenny replied rather tartly, 'I don't intend to tell you.'

  'Relax, my angel,' he murmured possessively. 'Has Hattie contacted you yet?'

  'No, but I went over to Dianne and George's place last night straight from work—Hattie could have tried to ring while I was out.'

  'She'll probably suggest you might like to visit while I'm away. Grandmama has a trinket-box filled with mementoes she looks forward to reminiscing over with various members of the family, and as you're the latest addition she'll no doubt extend an, invitation. There's also an album of family portraits,' he drawled cynically, 'that will enable you to follow the record of my boyhood pursuits.'

  Jenny laughed delightedly. 'In that case, I'll accept Hattie's invitation with relish, Zachary Benedict,' she replied impishly.

  'I rather expected a reply of that nature,' Zachary responded dryly. 'I'll be in touch over the next few days. Pleasant dreams, Jenny-wren.'

  As she replaced the receiver Jenny sighed expressively, the aching yearning that his voice aroused was only slightly appeased by the fact that two of the eight days had already passed. At this rate, how was she to get through the remaining six ?

  Events took a surprising turn during the next day in that the expected invitation from Hattie was forthcoming for that same evening, and late afternoon a toll call from Tauranga heralded a rather anxious conversation with Mrs. Meredith. It appeared that Max's father had suffered a heart attack the previous day and had regrettably passed away during the early hours of this morning. The funeral was arranged for Saturday afternoon, and Jenny's first reaction was to refuse when her mother indicated that she felt it necessary both Jenny and Jane should attend. Somehow it didn't seem quite fitting as she was soon to be married to someone else. Surely at a time like this Max's mother would not wish to be reminded of such things, but Mrs, Meredith assured Jenny that the invitation had been extended to Mrs. Meredith and family. Jane would come to Auckland early Friday morning as planned and would stay overnight with Jenny, thus enabling both girls to drive home Saturday morning. Jenny felt trapped, but conceded that as Max's mother had expressly invited the Meredith family then she supposed she should attend.

  'Problems?' Grant Ogilvie's voice intruded into Jenny's rather pensive thoughts as she stared vacantly at the sheet of paper she had just rolled into her typewriter.

  'Oh, I'm sorry,' Jenny turned apologetically. 'Do you want me to take dictation?'

  'No, I've put it on tape. I'll be out of town tomorrow, so I'll be staying back an hour or so tonight. Any chance you might be able to fit in a couple of hours' overtime, Jenny?' Grant queried hopefully. 'Ordinarily, I wouldn't ask, but I know Zachary Benedict is in Wellington. If you could manage it, I'd be very grateful.'

  Jenny smiled kindly at him as the glimmering of an idea began to form and she didn't hesitate to put it into words. 'Well, I do have an invitation for seven-thirty this evening, but I don't mind as long as I can get away at seven. Would you mind if I had tomorrow afternoon off in lieu of overtime pay? My sister is due from Tauranga for a day's shopping, and I'd rather like to join her for a few hours if I could.'

  Grant Ogilvie shot her a cheerful grin and nodded his head in agreement. 'Permission granted—it would be churlish of me to refuse.'

  Jenny returned his grin and bowed her head in acknowledgment. 'Thank you. I'll work straight through, astray invitation tonight includes dinner.'

  Grant Ogilvie sighed expressively and shrugged his shoulders. 'You realise that I'll probably never find another secretary who's as amenable with her working hours as you are? Just as I'm congratulating myself on having found the perfect secretary, the most eligible bachelor within the legal profession snaffles you up to conspire the state of matrimony with him!'

  'If you continue in that vein, I'll begin Jo think Zachary's motives are more inclined to lie with my proficiency in typing legal documents than performing wifely duties,' Jenny slanted quizzically, then wrinkled her nose in an attempt at hurt pride and returned her attention to more mundane things. She caught Grant's slight chuckle before he turned back towards his office.

  Nina Benedict and Hattie Carmichael, welcomed Jenny with a friendliness that was most gratifying, and after an elegantly served meal followed by strong sweet coffee! with a dollop of cream, Jenny seated herself comfortably beside Zachary's exceedingly frail looking grandmama and carefully examined the album of family portraits.

  Zachary as a babe in arms became a toddler clad only in nappies, and at the age of three locked positively angelic. The angelic pose began to disintegrate somewhere about age seven, and by the time he reached grammar school there emerged a clean-cut determined young man whose school photographs depicted a natural ability towards several sports, and even as a teenager there was a decidedly devilish gleam in those dark not-so-innocent eyes.

  Nina Benedict's trinket-box was something else, and Jenny's sensitive spirit captured with ease the nobility of Nina's native Poland; the glamorous balls, the gay parties that had been an integral part of Nina's girlhood prior to the dark days of World War One. There was an emerald pendant presented as a gift from a European Grand Duke; a bracelet set with rubies which had been a coming-of-age gift from a Prussian baron. There were rings, each featuring splendid stones and each having a particular significance. The hurried flight by her family from Poland at the onset of the First World War took them to England and there Nina met and married Lucien Benedict. Their only son Thaddeus had been born on New Zealand soil a few short months after Nina and Lucien emigrated, and it was Thaddeus who began his career as a promising young barrister and solicitor and founded the legal firm that today Zachary presided over as the head partner. A cruel hand of fate had taken Zachary's parents some ten years ago in a plane crash over central Europe in which there had been no survivors.

  Jenny looked into the vivid blue eyes not far from her own and asked of Nina Benedict gently. 'Have you never wished to go back—to Poland, I mean, just to visit?'

  Nina Benedict's eyes lit with a mixture of joy and sadness. 'I did go back, almost twenty y
ears ago, with Lucien. I had told him so much, you see, that he wanted to see for himself. Ah, my dear—it was not the same. I think I had expected to walk back into another era, to find the same familiar faces behind the same doors— but it was not so. Many of the homes—they were not even there. My friends, all of my relatives—all gone. Names, just names that no one knew or remembered.' She sighed. 'After that, my dear Lucien took me to France, then Italy, Spain, Greece. We were away for more than a year, then we came home—but I could not forget even then. Somehow, seeing for myself that it was no longer the same made the memory of what had been so very sad. Now, even if I could, I would have no wish to travel. I am content with my life—so very grateful that I can say that with conviction. I had a wonderful husband, pride in my soil, my grandchildren—my memories, they are so very precious. The love we shared—so very special. Not that we talked about it—we had no need to. It was there in the look, the touch, the words we didn't say. Some search all their lives for such a love and never find it—but you, my dear,' Nina reached out and took one of Jenny's hands. 'You have found it with Zachary, and he with you—I know. Treat it gently, and with the respect it deserves—for there is no greater gift on this earth?

  Jenny felt the tears spring to her eyes and she lifted the small skin-wrinkled hand that held hers up to her lips.

  'Bless you, my child,' Nina said gently, and looked across the room as Hattie came forward. 'I know, I know. It is time for you to see me to my bed. Zachary will bring you to see me before the wedding—I shall tell him so, myself. Goodnight, my dear, I have enjoyed your company immensely.'

  Jenny stood to her feet and leant forward to lay an impulsive kiss against Nina's cheek, and was rewarded with a singularly sweet smile.

  Hattie walked to the front door with Jenny and bade her an affectionate 'goodnight', and waved from the door as Jenny set her car moving down the driveway. It didn't seem to take very long to reach her flat, and as Jenny stepped on to the steps leading to the front door there stood a large cellophane-covered spray of flowers with a card tucked inside. With slightly shaking fingers she unlocked the door and took them into the kitchen. A dozen beautiful long-stemmed red roses nestled beneath the clear cellophane and she removed the card with care, her eyes filling with tears as she read the scrawl—'Yours, Zachary.'

  Jane was suitably impressed when she followed Jenny into, the flat the next evening after an exhaustive shopping spree which heaped the lounge-settee high with variously assorted wrapped purchases.

  'Zachary?' Jane breathed enviously, and when Jenny nodded she let out a whistle of appreciation. 'Nice. Very, very nice.' With a sigh she sank into an armchair and eased her shoes off and wriggled her toes in ecstasy. 'Thank heavens I managed to accomplish all I set out to buy,' she confided with pleasant exhaustion across the room to Jenny, who likewise had collapsed into the remaining armchair and was gently easing her feet free from her shoes. 'And we finally found something we could both agree upon as being suitable for you to wear next Friday. And me,' she concluded ungrammatically. 'Jenny, do you imagine we could retrieve that bottle of wine from amongst the pile over there without too much trouble? A glass of Moselle would go down very nicely,' she murmured appreciably.

  Jenny stood slowly to her feet and eased her aching limbs. 'I'll fetch the glasses and a corkscrew while you attempt to find the wine.' In a few minutes she returned and stood idly watching Jane sort through the rapidly scattering parcels.

  'Jane,' she began contemplatively, and her hazel eyes clouded slightly. 'Is it possible, do you suppose, that Max's mother doesn't know that I've become engaged to someone else?'

  Jane discovered the elusive bottle and waved it delightedly in the air. 'Oh, I should think so. Mrs.

  Enfield is one of Mother's friends, and a member of the same bowling club—I should say that if Mother hasn't given her the news, someone else has by now.' The bottle was extracted from its wrapping paper and Jane brought it over for Jenny to uncork. 'Why ? If anyone needs to feel guilty, it certainly shouldn't be you, Jenny, Max jilted you, not the other way around. In any case, you're attending the funeral as a mark of respect for his father. Personally, I wouldn't give the matter another thought,' she concluded emphatically.

  Jenny was to ponder wryly over Jane's words as she mingled among the guests in her ex-fiancé's home after the funeral service the following afternoon. She should not have been surprised that Max had flown home to be with his mother on such a sad occasion, and she cursed herself for being placed in such an awkward position. True, both Mrs. Meredith and Jane had seen to it that Jenny was not left standing alone after Max had greeted her like a long-lost love, but it was only a matter of time before he discovered she was engaged. It was plain that his mother hadn't acquainted him of the fact, although hardly surprising in view of her recent bereavement. If only Jenny could escape from this house and the crowd of people it would be a simple matter, for she had no wish to give Max any explanations now.

  'Don't look round, Jenny,' Jane mouthed quietly, and her eyes veiled barely suppressed anger as she faced her sister. 'Max is very determinedly making his way towards you. Want me to stay?'

  Jenny hid a wry grimace and gave a slight shrug, 'Would you hazard a guess from his expression that he's been told I've not been sitting at home pining my heart out?'

  'Hard to say,' Jane only just managed to reply as Jenny felt a hand on her arm, and she turned to find herself face to face with Max.

  'I've been trying to speak to you during the past half-hour, but with little success.' Max spoke quietly, attempting to lead Jenny to one side, but she very firmly withdrew her arm from his grasp. 'We have to talk, Jenny,' he said desperately.

  Jenny shook her head and was able to look him directly in the eye. 'No, Max,', she said seriously, and marvelled at how calm she felt. 'There's nothing to talk about.' It was true, she concluded. There was nothing there at all, not even a faint stirring of regret for what might have been. Only tremendous relief, an overwhelming gratitude that fate had somehow lent a hand in preventing their marriage. He seemed a stranger she had known momentarily a very long time ago, and she could even feel a kindness towards him. Ironical, she perceived with a vivid flash of humour.

  'Jenny,' Max pleaded almost in anguish, 'there has to be. I was a fool, and I'm sorry—deeply sorry.' There was deep sincerity evident in his expression. 'Look, I realise we can't talk here, but I'll be able to get away for an hour or so tonight and we can talk then. I must see you,' he ended on a note of desperation.

  'Max,' Jenny shook her head again and removed her hand from within his grasp, 'it's over—finished,' she said gently, not really enjoying the hurt she was causing. 'I'm engaged to someone else, Max. We're to be married at the end of next week,' There, it was said.

  His expression of incredulity gave Jenny no satisfaction of her totally unintentional revenge, but Max wasn't to know that and his barely suppressed anger was very real.

  'My God! You didn't waste any time, did you?' he exclaimed with little caution, and his eyes mirrored his inner wretchedness. He lifted a hand and ran it through his fair curly hair, and then repeated the gesture. 'I'm not giving you up, Jenny—not easily. I'll come to your house tonight, and we'll talk,' he repeated angrily, and his fingers bit into her arm in an attempt to emphasise his determination.

  'Don't do that, Max,' Jenny warned him, and felt her own temper begin to rouse at his obstinate refusal to let things rest. 'For one thing it would be a wasted visit, and for another you should stay at home with your mother this evening. Besides,' she added firmly, 'I'll be out.' She hadn't planned it, but now she would commandeer Jane and her mother into visiting Elvira Hamilton for the evening.

  'Tomorrow, then. I'll call alter lunch and we'll go to the beach,' Max persisted stubbornly, and Jenny shook her head emphatically as she anxiously searched the room for signs of her mother and Jane. Whether they were ready or not, she was leaving!

  At that precise moment Jane caught her arm and Mrs. Meredith arrived b
eside Max.

  'Ready, dear?' Mrs. Meredith enquired calmly, and although she appeared quite serene her eyes were bright with anger as she surveyed Max with an unwavering stare. She seemed on the verge of saying something, then checked herself and forced a light smile as she wished Max goodbye.

  'I'll see you tomorrow, Jenny.' Max's urgently spoken words were regarded with equanimity, and Mrs. Meredith matched them with thinly veiled regret.

  'I'm afraid that won't be possible, Max. The girls and I have an extremely busy day ahead of us tomorrow arranging last-minute details for Jenny's wedding next week and Jane's departure for Australia in ten days' time. I'm so pleased for your mother's sake that you've come home. She needs her children at such a time.' So saying, she placed each hand on Jane's and Jenny's arm and led the way outside to the car.

  'Well, really!' Mrs. Meredith exclaimed indignantly as she set the car firmly in the direction of home. 'I endeavoured to contain myself out of respect for his late father, but should Max dare to come to the house I'll certainly tell him a thing or two!'

  'I'll make sure I'm around to add a few comments of my own,' Jane expostulated angrily from the back seat. 'Who does he think he is, anyway?' she queried recalcitrantly. 'He thoughtlessly jilted Jenny at the last minute, and then imagines he can wipe all that out by saying he's sorry and pick up where he left off. The cheek of it!'

  'I distinctly remember telling Ethel about Jenny's engagement at our bowling tournament last Monday, but in view of Bert's sudden death it's hardly surprising that it might have slipped her mind. It was obvious Max hadn't been told. Oh dear, now I feel dreadful that I insisted you come down for the funeral, Jenny,' Mrs., Meredith sounded so remorseful that Jenny leant forward and patted her mother's shoulder reassuringly.

  'Don't feel so badly. You weren't to know, and in a way I'm quite pleased. Once I'd got over the shock of Max breaking our engagement I felt immeasurably relieved, and now that I've seen him again it has endorsed that feeling a thousandfold,' she added with great sincerity—adding, 'And that would apply whether I'd met Zachary or not.'