She shrugged helplessly. 'Who's playing games?'
In silence they proceeded up to the ash trees where everyone else was already gathered.
Her mind was a jumble of chaotic thoughts as she walked carefully beside him. Barak ... and last night's unassuaged need. She had felt it in him, he had admitted it to her, and Nicola knew that from now on surrender could never be very far from her.
Last night ... the memory wouldn't remove itself from her mind. She had been kissed often, but even when men with whom she had imagined herself in love had kissed her, there had not flared that passion which she had experienced down there on the veranda the previous night, not that flagrant desire which had fired her senses.
There were lights in the trees and meat was already being braaied over the fires, while a long trestle table had been set up, bearing drinks and bread and all sorts of spicy condiments, while big pink slices of watermelon were arranged on a huge ashet.
As they approached the circle of light and the chatter and laughter of the others reached them, Nicola said tentatively, 'Barak?' She didn't quite know what she intended to say; she just felt that something had to be said.
`Forget it, Nicola,' he said coldly, bored now. 'I'll admit I hadn't expected you to be quite so juvenile in your reactions.'
She flinched at the frostiness in his voice; it chilled, especially when she compared it with his urgency of last night as she did now. Humiliated, and not truly understanding his words, she forced herself to say flippantly, 'Then you'd better play safe with the eighteen-year-old fresh out of school whom I see coming to meet you. You would probably find greater maturity there.'
`I would indeed, if I wanted to,' he said with whiplash humour. 'Denise evidently has more to offer than you.'
Todd Baxter had also suggested that Denise Graeme had the greater maturity, Nicola recollected resentfully.
`Is what a woman has to offer all that counts?' she demanded angrily, but in a low voice. 'I suppose you don't feel you have to offer anything in return.'
Barak turned his dark head and regarded her in the bad light. 'If you're referring to what occurred last night—you wanted me as much as I wanted you, Nicola,' he observed. 'Doesn't that make for equal giving from both parties?'
Nicola felt her cheeks grow warm at his frank reference to their shared desire. She had to admit that the passion had come from both sides.
Denise approached them, looking as elegant as ever. She had achieved just the right degree of sophistication for such a party in donning a rich crimson blouse and a long cream skirt. Nicola wondered ruefully whether
Denise had ever made a mistake over her appearance. Had she felt worried about her looks when she had attended her first adult party? That wouldn't have been so very many years ago, Nicola reflected.
`Barak!' Denise exclaimed, coming to hang on his arm in a young and beguiling gesture. 'What happened to you? I was getting quite concerned.'
`I had something to attend to,' said Barak, smiling at her inscrutably as they entered the circle of light.
`Do tell me,' Denise pleaded. 'Oh, hullo, Nicola,' she added as if noticing her for the first time.
`Hullo,' Nicola said politely, and : 'Excuse me, please.'
She hastened towards a group of people standing around the fires.
`There you are, Nicola,' said Traugott, using a long-handled braaiing fork to turn over a sizzling chop. `Come and tell me what you want. Steak, chops, boerewors, or what?'
`Oh, boerewors, please,' Nicola replied.
`A true South African,' Traugott teased.
`I detest it indoors, but cooked over a fire outside, and accompanied by stywe pap, I love it,' she said laughingly.
`I'm the same,' said Peter Lewis with a smile, sampling some pineapple and green pepper salad. 'May I braai it for you, Miss Prenn?'
`Thank you,' she said.
She smiled, watching the men at the fires. They all appeared to conform to type in believing that knowledge about cooking over fires was exclusively a male prerogative. Each believed himself to be the expert :
Peter Lewis who insisted that a little South West African beer sprinkled over the meat brought out its flavour, Traugott who braaied the plain way ...
Nicola usually loved a braaivleis, that traditionally South African institution, and this one adhered to a high standard. The boerewors was mixed by Ellen herself, rich and highly spiced, needing the blandness of the stywe putu-pap, made from meal, which was the staple diet of some of the country's poorer indigenous inhabitants but, ironically, a party treat for more recent settlers.
Mushrooms, wrapped in foil, were placed right among the glowing logs to cook in their own juices, there was plenty of beer, and wine and fruit juice for those who didn't like it.
Later there would be pints of strong coffee and they would be able to sit around the fires, dreaming, or listening to man-talk, about planting and picking, market prices and the possibility of droughts or floods.
But now was the lively hour of the party. Nicola discovered that although the Sorensens braaied with a certain modern sophistication, they did not despise the old, well-loved traditions attached to this activity. One of their guests, an Afrikaans farmer, had brought his accordion and was providing some rollicking tiekiedraai and volkspele music, interspersed with old favourites like Sark Marais and Die Ou Kraal-liedjie.
Someone younger, obviously at peace with the world and enjoying life, started to hum, 'Braaivleis, rugby, sunny skies ...' and Nicola smiled. It was a recent fashion to break into that refrain in praise of South Africa whenever the living was particularly good. It
over-simplified the matter, of course, since there was more to it than that, and she could do without the rugby, but it did serve as a description of a way of life.
Yet somehow Nicola's efforts to enjoy the braaivleis met with little success. She felt tense, and her emotions were uncertain. She kept looking for Barak, who had Denise constantly at his side.
She was introduced to Hilary Baxter, who was a plain woman in her late twenties. Nicola noticed with compassion how her eyes followed her profligate husband, who was making himself charming to Peter and Ilse. She also noticed how they softened as they came to rest on the high-spirited little group comprising Melanie, the Lewis children and a couple of other young people. Mrs Baxter wanted children, Nicola realised. Perhaps a child would serve to lessen the unhappiness Todd caused her. But what sort of childhood would it be with a father like Todd? Row much could parenthood change a mad?
Nicola was accosted by Todd himself, a little later, as Mr and Mrs Graeme, to whom she had been talking, moved away.
`Hullo, Nicola darling,' he greeted her. 'How are you getting on?'
`Fine, thank you,' she assured him abruptly. It was no use. He was one of those people whom she would find it impossible to like, no matter how many redeeming virtues she might discover in him.
`I wish I could see more of you,' he continued in a low voice. 'How about my taking you out for a drive through the mountains tomorrow? They won't expect you to work on a Sunday, will they?'
`I don't know, but I don't want to go out with you, Todd,' Nicola said gravely.
`Ah, Nicola, think of the fun we could have together. I'm someone you know from Johannesburg, so you ought to welcome my company,' he said persuasively.
`You talk as if we were exiles,' she snapped.
`Sometimes I feel like it,' Todd answered, sighing heavily. 'I only have to spend a week up here and I'm longing for the city. I'd like to take you out some time when we're both in Johannesburg; there's much more scope for a good time there.'
'You chose to marry someone who lived here,' Nicola pointed out coldly, noticing that both Barak and Denise were watching them from across the lighted circle. She saw Denise lean towards Barak and say something which made him laugh. She didn't dare look for Hilary to see if she was watching them.
`Do let me fetch you tomorrow, Nicola, and show you some of our local beauty-spots. You might se
e something you'd like to paint.'
`It would take years to exhaust the possibilities of just this one farm, so I'm not looking for anything else,' she said.
`Come on, Nicola. I've a feeling we could get on very well if we got to know each other better,' Todd argued insistently. 'After all, I'm a friend of your father's.'
`I doubt if he regards you in such a light,' she said rudely, adding firmly, 'No, Todd, I don't want to go out anywhere with you. Please accept that.'
`Nicola darling—'
`Talk about persistence !' Nicola interrupted in a coolly amused voice, abandoning all semblance of
kindness in favour of cruelty. Her hazel eyes were mocking as they rested on Todd's face. 'Why do you run after girls, Todd? Why don't you leave us alone? It won't do anything to preserve the illusion of youth; you'll still inevitably wake up one morning to find you're an adult, not a boy.'
Todd was plainly discomfited. 'I believe I said it before : you've a sharp tongue, Nicola.'
`I need it when you're around,' was her dry retort. `It's not very kind to laugh at people,' he argued, rather pathetically.
But you're funny, Todd,' she said mildly. She gave him a wintry smile. 'As you persist in behaving like a boy just out of school and let loose among the opposite sex for the first time, I suppose I must treat you like one. Run along now, Todd dear. I can't be bothered with you at the moment.'
She hastily concealed a giggle as she saw Todd's outraged expression.
`You ought to be more careful, Nicola. A cruel humour like yours will lose you all your friends,' he said angrily before stalking away from her.
Nicola watched him go. She thought she had been right about his trying to preserve the illusion of youth. He was one of those unfortunate men who were terrified of growing older and couldn't bear to shoulder responsibility. He would probably never have married if it hadn't been for Hilary's money. He would still be a bachelor today, and perhaps happier than he was as a married man. Marriage made him feel old, although he was actually only about thirty. She wondered what would become of him.
Unless Hilary had a child, which just might, at an outside chance, help him to grow up emotionally, he would go on with his present activities for years to come until, one day, the girls he liked so much began to think of him as an old fool, and then ... who knew? It was sad, but Todd's type didn't often settle easily into maturity. She supposed the ageing process was something everyone feared to some extent, but in Todd the fear and consequent resistance were exaggerated.
Again she wondered what would become of Todd Baxter.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE following morning, Nicola accompanied Ellen Sorensen and Peter Lewis to the Methodist church in Louis Trichardt.
`Those who were born Sorensens have all remained Lutherans,' Ellen explained. ·
When they returned to the farm, Nicola headed for her bedroom, wondering whether Traugott was expecting work on the portrait to be continued on a Sunday.
She entered the lounge and her step faltered, because Barak was sitting at the piano on which the long-dead Ulrika had once played. He ran his strong fingers over the keys, producing a discordant jangle, then stood up as she started to cross the room. His dark face
was grim and she was conscious of a feeling of trepidation.
`Well?' he asked, and there was something inexorable in the one word.
`Well what?' Nicola retorted, determined not to allow him to see the effect he had on her.
`I didn't have a chance to speak to you again last night,' he said expressionlessly.
`No, you were fully occupied. with Denise. You don't need to tell me,' Nicola said drily.
`At least Denise doesn't feel she has to fight me all the time,' he commented, and there was a flicker of humour in the ice-grey eyes.
`Perhaps someone should warn her,' Nicola suggested.
`Warn her of what?' he enquired, leaning casually against the piano.
Nicola shrugged, exasperated. 'Oh, I don't know,' she said wearily. 'But I shouldn't think anyone would find a relationship with you very rewarding.'
`What gives you that impression? Do you know so much about me, Nicola, when you've only been here such a short while?'
Her hazel eyes held mingled anger and confusion as she met his glance. `No, but, I have discovered a few things about you.'
`Such as?'
`Oh, what does it matter?' she said listlessly.
`But I'm interested,' he mocked with a half-smile. 'What commodity will Denise find me failing to bring to our relationship?'
Nicola's hands smoothed the skirt of her sunshine-
yellow dress which revealed the stiff tenseness in every line of her slim body. Wanting to hurt, she taunted, `It's not what you'll fail to bring, Barak, but simply the fact that you've never tried to rid yourself of the past. I feel sorry for that girl—she'll always wonder if you aren't perhaps thinking of her sister. Isn't it because of her resemblance to Vanessa that you're almost engaged to Denise?'
She had wanted to hurt him, but she couldn't know if she had succeeded in doing anything more than enrage him, because the uncompromising features merely took on a cold tight mask of anger, and he said, 'Do you always delve into the private lives of your acquaintances?'
`You asked me a question,' she reminded him.
`Kindly never refer to Vanessa again,' he ordered her in tones that promised to make mincemeat of any argument. 'You never knew her, and what she was to me is no concern of yours. I wanted to talk to you,' he added abruptly.
`Is there anything further to be said?' Nicola asked coldly.
`Not in the context you're meaning,' he agreed sardonically. 'I have no interest in someone who overreacts on your exaggerated emotional scale. I was going to mention your behaviour with Baxter last night. You were together for quite some time at the braaivleis.'
Nicola laughed scornfully. 'My behaviour! Perhaps you're the one who overreacts, Barak. Todd and I stood talking for a while, and that's all there is to it. Besides, if your affairs are none of my business, as
you've just told me ... well, shouldn't you practise what you preach?'
`When your affairs are carried on to my own property, I consider them to be my business,' Barak informed her. 'How you behave elsewhere, in your father's house for instance, doesn't concern me, but I won't have your relationship with Baxter flaunted on my property.'
`I suppose you're so upright and moral that you can safely afford to condemn me,' Nicola said bitterly.
`It isn't a question of morals,' he snapped. 'Had you forgotten that Hilary was present last night? I don't like to see her humiliated—particularly on my farm. She was watching the pair of you last night. What were you doing—continuing the prolonged parting? I believe you told me the affair was over.'
`It is,' she said furiously. She had perforce to ac knowledge his kindness in his consideration for Hilary Baxter's feelings, which annoyed her all the more. Why had she ever allowed his belief in her mythical affair with Todd to develop? For his own sake, of course; for the sake of Barak Sorensen and the young girl whom he would probably eventually take for his life-partner and mate. She couldn't go back.
He was watching her carefully and she met his cold eyes with defiance in her own.
`Have I expressed my wishes clearly?' he said after a pause in which they had engaged in silent battle.
Nicola knew who the conqueror was, and her defiance was torn from her, but she still had her pride. `Certainly,' she assured him with dignity. She spun round to leave the room, and her silky hair shifted in a
liquid movement, swirling about her shoulders. 'I've never disliked anyone as much as I dislike you,' she added.
From behind her she heard him say, 'Unfortunately that fails to move me. What did you expect? Woebegone pleas for you to assure me it isn't true?'
`Not from the devil incarnate,' Nicola called back over her shoulder, and wondered whether she heard him laugh as she left the room.
She felt d
ispirited and tired most of the day, and even the company of Melanie and the Lewis children couldn't banish the grey thoughts that floated across her mind. Her life had been so uncomplicated up until now, so that the sudden confused questions which hit her now were an assault on her equilibrium. Nicola was completely disorientated by all that had happened : Barak's attitude towards her, the prolonged clash between them, the lies in which she had involved herself for Denise's sake ... She couldn't even begin to untangle the skeins of confusion.
She would have retreated in time, given the chance. Not to know any of this, to view things in perspective and bright colours instead of groping in this frightening half-light, with a heavy heart and nerves that were on edge. She had to admit to herself that Barak was partially if not wholly responsible for her state of mind. She was so intensely aware of him and his moods, and the effect he had on her. He was constantly in her thoughts, and she was annoyed to find how much his cold attitude towards her hurt. He addressed her only when it was imperative that he do so, and then with icy indifference which hurt more than if he had employed
angry antagonism. That at least would have been positive.
How she disliked him! Yet his relationship with Vanessa kept returning to her, calling upon her imagination, and she couldn't forget his consideration for Hilary.
That afternoon she took her sketch-pad out on to the lawn between the house and the gum-tree plantation, but she couldn't summon up much interest in the surrounding beauty. All she wanted was to finish Traugott's portrait and escape from this place which had brought her to the edge of a darkness she hadn't hitherto known even existed.
Presently Ilse and Ellen, the latter carrying a plate of watermelon slices, came across the lawn with Melanie, Martin and Erika in their wake.
Ellen said, 'We all felt in need of some refreshment. How about you, Nicola?'
Between them they finished up the watermelon and then Nicola allowed the children to persuade her to ake some sketches of them, sketches which Ilse claimed for herself.
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