by Vaso
Valentine removed a hand from her pocket and touched her icy cheeks experimentally. They felt damp, whether solely from the mist -she wasn't sure. Her make-up, she thought, must have vanished long ago.
The light was fading and the car that turned into the carpark had its headlights on. Valentine was momentarily caught in their powerful beam and she moved hastily into the greyness of the evening. She couldn't see what sort of car it was, but she didn't think Nigel would have come for her just yet, and it wasn't a night for fishing, so the occupants were probably a pair of lovers, she decided with unreasonable resentment as she imagined their happiness, cocooned in the warm darkness of the car.
She walked on steadily, heard a door slam and realised it must be Nigel after all. She turned, full of compunction at having brought him out again, and froze———
'No!' It was a low moan of protest as she recognised the familiar stride of the beloved figure!
Still he came towards her and now Valentine backed away until she had the sea directly behind her.
'Go away!' She raised her voice. 'Oh, God, haven't you had enough from me without this too . . . Go away, Kemp!'
'Valentine!' His voice was urgent.
'Go away,' she repeated sharply. 'You can't... I won't let you see me like this. I haven't . . . got my act together yet. Have a little mercy on me, Kemp.'
'For pity's sake, Valentine———'
'Pity! What do you know of pity?' she flung at him bitterly and, as he put out a hand, 'Don't touch me!'
Kemp thrust his hands violently into the pockets of his jacket. 'All right, I won't touch you,' he said wearily. 'But will you listen to me, please?'
Valentine stared at him with a mixture of fear and longing, hardly able to credit his presence. He looked tired and his mouth was twisted as if he was in pain.
'What is it?' she asked in a voice as cold and soft as the mist.
For a few moments, he stared at her in silence, noting the pallor and shadows suffering had wrought, and the brittle tension of her. She looked as fragile as crystal, as if a touch might shatter her, and the control she had over herself now was heartrendingly frail.
'Valentine, will you please tell me how I came to fail you so badly?' he requested jerkily. 'How I failed you to the extent that you could imagine our lov'emaking was an act of revenge on my part, and then believe that I would deliberately invite Rose to Fleurmont?' 'Well, didn't you?' she flung at him tartly. 'No, damn you, I did not!' he exclaimed savagely. 'That was Emma's doing as I'd have expected you to realise. She met Rose in Stellenbosch and persuaded her that she ought to visit Fleurmont, never mentioning your presence. I was appalled when they arrived, appalled for your sake . . . Name of God, Valli, how could you think I'd want to do that to you?'
'But didn't you do it to me?' she lashed out of the depths of her unhappiness.
He looked at the dark tragic eyes, and the quivering lips she was pathetically trying to control, and he swore. 'You don't believe me, do you?' 'How can I?'
'Doesn't it stand to reason?' he demanded impatiently. 'Emma it was who sent those press-cuttings, Emma it was who left that message on your mirror . . . Valentine, she'd probably admit it if you challenged her with it. And Rose
would tell you how her presence on Fleurmont came about.'
'If it's true, then why didn't you tell me at the time?' she asked sceptically, realising that her teeth were chattering.
He sighed heavily. 'Because I was so damned furious at your lack of trust in me, the small faith . . . That you could believe such a thing of me. I stayed angry for days, Valentine, but eventually I started wondering if it wasn't due to some lack in myself that you'd believed what you did. What did 1 do, or fail to do, that you could believe I'd taken you in revenge for Philip?'
Valentine had begun to weep, bitterly, and the tears were warm as they trickled down her cold face. 'You said that was what you would do ... the day you learned who I really was. Valentine's Day,' she gulped.
'I was furious that day as well, because you hadn't told me yourself,' Kemp said curtly. 'I stayed angry for precisely that one day, Valli . . . and part of that night, as you know. I know I was often angry after that, but that was because you were so slow in learning to trust me ... I wanted you to realise for yourself that I didn't blame you for what Philip had done. You used to punish yourself. . . I would get impatient, waiting for you, but I had to let you learn for yourself, and learn to trust me, after the way I'd behaved that night . . . And then there was an--other delay when you resented me* because I wouldn't make love to you in that field of flowers, but you still didn't trust me that day. Then you had that idea of seducing me, and I didn't want it to be that way, although God knows how I prevented myself from taking what you were offering. When we did finally become lovers, I thought all your doubts had gone . . . And now I know that all the time you were imagining yourself in a bondage situation. Dear God, how could you fail to realise that everything you felt, I felt with equal intensity?' 'You couldn't,' she protested weakly. 'Couldn't what?'
'Feel as I did. I loved you. I still love you.' 'As I love you,' he said simply, but then—'Valentine, my darling, what have I done?'
Because she had fallen to her knees, still weeping, and he bent and lifted her to her feet, holding her against him, his arms strong about her, and she realised that he was rigid with tension.
'You never told me you loved me,' she said brokenly. 'Valli, don't—don't cry like this. I can't bear it, seeing my beautiful, strong, brave, clever woman so ... so crushed. Oh, don't, darling!' One hand came up to the back of her head, pressing her against him, and she buried her face against his suede-covered shoulder. 'People say "I love you" every day and it can mean everything or nothing. I thought I was showing you I loved you in a hundred ways ... I feel now that I failed you. I should have known Philip's death still haunted you. So often I wanted to reassure myself, but then I'd look at your lovely radiant face and be afraid of seeing a shadow there, if I mentioned his name. If only I'd risked it, I could have convinced you and none of this . . . this pain would have been necessary.'
'It was all ... done in love, then?' she asked against his shoulder, hardly daring to believe it.
'So much love. Couldn't you tell?' he asked reproachfully, then sighed. 'No, of course you couldn't. The idea that I was punishing you for Philip was too deeply rooted, wasn't it? Can you believe in me now, Valentine? Now that I've told you in words .. . Come back to me, my darling. These last two weeks I've been in hell ... I love you beyond belief. I'd take the world and break it and remake it for you . . . Come back to me, Valentine.'
'Yes,' she said simply, and the grief went out of her on a great shuddering sigh as she rested against him.
In the fading light his fingers moved in her dark curls, tipping back her head until he could see her face. His expression softened as he saw the faint anxiety there. 'You will be happy, Valentine,' he promised. 'I know
... I know that you've suffered far more than I'm worth and you can't slide into joy immediately.'
She nodded slightly, no longer surprised by his understanding. 'I feel I wronged you, Kemp, by failing to evaluate your love correctly . . . I'm sorry.'
'Ah, don't, darling,' he said urgently, his arms tightening about her again. 'There were things you didn't realise and things I didn't realise, and they've caused us both a lot of pain. I'll tell you I love you every day for the rest of our lives . . . And how I love you. You're my woman and I've loved you for ever.' .
'Not really,' she corrected with a faint smile, beginning to feel at last. 'You didn't trust me at all to begin with.'
'But I recognised you as my life's mate,' he assured her. 'From the moment I saw you at that party . . . For a few days I resisted, but by the morning of Valentine's Day I had capitulated. It seemed so simple. Then that envelope of cuttings arrived and I treated you so brutally that night. When my anger had abated, I realised you were far more complex than I had thought, with great gaping holes in the fab
ric of your personality, thanks to my cousin, and I knew they'd have to be closed before I could make you mine. When we finally became lovers I thought it would complete the healing process, instead of which ..."
'I was very happy, despite believing what I did,' she told him gently when he broke 'off with a sigh. 'You weren't to know. I see that now.'
'You said things that day you left . . . Valentine, you were not humiliated, or dishonoured. We were lovers first because our need to be was immediate and urgent, but you would have been my wife by now. And you will be, won't you?'
'Soon?' The old, beautiful smile had appeared.
'Very soon, my darling. Just as soon as possible,' he promised her. He smiled _too. 'Why are we standing out here on this cold and windy beach in the near dark? Come to the car, Valli.'
'Aren't you going to kiss me?' she asked limpidly.
'Do you want me to?'
'You .. .' She laughed helplessly, coming to full life at last. 'What do you think?'
'All my life to you, Valentine,' he said just before their lips met, and the tender passion of their kiss was equally a pledge.
'Go on talking to me,' she sighed as they walked towards the car, their arms about each other. 'I love the sound of your voice. Tell me how you knew where I was.'
'Ah!' Kemp laughed gently. 'I went out of my mind when I found your parents' house and they didn't know where you were. Then a young man who looks like you arrived, took one look at me and said, "Ah, I knew it was all a ghastly mistake. You've come for Valentine, right?" So I told them I was going to jnarry you and he said, "Get down to the beach and tell her that." When I left, your mother was planning our wedding and your brother was suggesting that, knowing Valentine, he didn't think you'd agree to white or even cream. What have you told that young man about us?'
Valentine collapsed against him, laughing delightedly. 'He's the only one I've told. Nigel is my dear brother and next to you, he's the person who understands me best . . . And he was right. I won't be married in white, but don't think you've robbed me of that, my darling. I planned my wedding as a little girl and even then I decided against white. I wanted to be different,' she concluded proudly.
'You're an original,' Kemp said with equal pride. 'Incomparable Valentine.'
And she was.
Kemp watched Valentine as she approached on her father's arm a little over a week later. Certain conventions had been adhered to for her parents' sakes, but in most things Valentine had had her way. The church they had chosen was a small one in Cape Town and their guests were few, chosen because they were liked or loved, not for
any other reason. Two of his television colleagues were present, and Nigel was looking amused by the whole occasion as he stood beside Mrs McLaren in the front pew. Also present, smiling or emotional depending on their temperaments, were James and Sylvie Hattingh, Freddie and Salome Jansen and Maude who had all driven down from Fleurmont, and behind the bride came her two tiny doll-like attendants, Binnie Hattingh and Trevor Jansen, slightly out of step.
Kemp's eyes met Valentine's sparkling ones and he knew she was giving the performance of her life and revelling in it. She was. a wildly romantic figure, the sort of woman most men dream of and never find, in her pale shell-pink confection of -a dress with its stiff mid-calf length skirt. Her face was not^ veiled, and at her throat and ears were tiny gold hearts. Small flowers lay against her glorious dark curls, and she was breathtakingly beautiful, with a beauty which was all Valentine and illuminated from within, since she was wearing less makeup than usual.
Still their eyes remained locked and as soon as she reached his side her hand grasped his and the small secretive smiles they exchanged were in danger of breaking into wide smiles. For a timeless moment they were as if alone. Then the minister coughed warningly———
'You were really enjoying yourself, weren't you?' Kemp teased a short while later in the Vestry when they were signing the register.
'Oh, yes!' Her smile was very beautiful. 'I think I'm the happiest, luckiest woman in all the world!'
The minister smiled sympathetically at Kemp. 'You could kiss her, properly now/ he suggested, having brought their formal kiss in the church to an end with another of his peculiarly eloquent little coughs.
Valentine seemed to melt into Kemp's arms and the minister turned to talk to Mr and Mrs McLaren, whose relief at the conventional turn taken by their rare, perplexing daughter's life was palpable.
'I've got you for ever now,' said Kemp, having kissed her until she was breathless.
'And I you.' And their eyes and their lips once more promised all that their steady voices had promised during the ceremony.
There were photographs taken in the vestry and then they emerged into the church once more and the radiance of Valentine's face made Salome Jansen weep emotionally while Freddie wore a rare grin.
'Is it wrong of me to feel complacent?' Valentine whispered to Kemp when they posed for more photographs outside, the late afternoon sunshine illuminating their faces.
'I think we've both got a right to feel that way,' Kemp ' murmured, his eyes blazing with passionate love as he saw the wonderful clarity of hers, 'You look beautiful.'
'So do you.'
Since they were a small party, their reception was held in a hired room at the luxurious hotel where Kemp and Valentine would be spending the night before driving to the cottage on a deserted stretch of coast, lent to them by one of his television friends because they had decided that their honeymoon must be spent far, far from all other members of humanity.
The two television men pretended to be regretful when Valentine left Kemp's side for a moment to speak to them.
'First television lost him, and now the noble brotherhood of bachelors will know him no more,' one said mournfully.
Valentine looked thoughtful. 'I wouldn't be too sure about television having lost him for ever, you know.'
They brightened. 'If you could persuade him to return . . . He's needed, you know, Valentine.'
'I know,' she said proudly. 'But I won't persuade him to do anything. He'll do what's right for him. However, I think I know what that will be.'
She drifted back to Kemp, wondering when she should
broach the subject and deciding that now was not the time. Kemp's arm came round her waist and their eyes met as if they drank of each other. Nigel, who had been talking to Kemp, watched them narrowly and finally gave a relieved smile.
'Oh, you lucky, lucky people,' he said softly, admiring the perfect matching of two people who would draw attention wherever they went. 'You've got a happy ending .. . Safe now, Valentine?'
Valentine leaned against her husband and smiled at each of them in turn. 'Safe for ever, Nigel.'
'I promised you that before, darling,' Kemp reminded her. 'I do so again now with Nigel as witness. I know what a rare and wonderful treasure I have in your sister, and I'll guard her as such.'
Very much later that night in their luxurious hotel suite, Valentine gently disengaged herself from Kemp's arms. With the light still tin, he had made love to her with such passion and pride of possession that tears had stung her eyes. In the supreme moment of attaining their personal nirvana she had glimpsed his face and the love blazing there had heightened her ecstasy so that she called his name as a blinding white light of happiness dazzled her mind, before she sank breathlessly back against the pillows, at peace at last.
Now, when her heart's normal rhythm was restored, she stirred.'
'Where are you going?'
'I want that champagne we never had,' she told him mischievously, shrugging on a vibrant pink silk robe and going to fetch the ice-bucket in which the bottle reposed. They hadn't needed or wanted it earlier.
He watched indulgently as she opened it, smiling at her laughter when the cork popped and accepting a brimming glass from her hands when she returned to the bed. Valentine plumped up her pillows and reached for her own glass.
'Now—you've to call me Mrs Irvine!'
&nb
sp; He raised his glass. 'To you, Mrs Irvine, my wife, the most miraculous woman on this earth . . . God, Valentine, you're beautiful. Are you really mine?'
'We've got papers to prove it now,' she said liltingly, admiring her wedding ring and the sapphire engagement ring he had given her a few days ago. 'I'll never let you
g°-'
'Really mine,' Kemp repeated reflectively.
For a while she basked in the warmth of his gaze while they sipped their champagne. Her dark hair was a gypsy tangle and her face was radiant, her eyes sparkling and her lips tender from prolonged kisses.
Then she said slowly, 'There's still the matter of our future to discuss.'
'You're my future,' he told her. 'With you beside me, I can bear Fleurmont.'
'You don't have to ... bear it,' she said carefully, putting down' her glass. 'I'm not going to influence you, Kemp, but you must do what you truly want to do.'
'I'd keep Fleurmont either way,' Kemp said thoughtfully. 'But as to where we'll spend most of our time . . . You've loved Fleurmont, haven't you?'
'Yes.' She smiled tenderly, taking his glass away from him and placing it beside hers. 'But I've a greater love than Fleurmont, and one I need more. I want to be with you, Kemp, but I want you fully content in what you're doing and that would seem to mean returning to what is, after all, your chosen life.'
'The places I have to go to are unromantic and lacking in glamour, my darling,' he said gently. 'And you're both romantic and distinctly glamorous . . . How could you endure it?'
'I've had my share of romance, and glamour, and my great moment today . . . Nigel said we had a happy ending, but it's really a happy beginning to our real life together, Kemp,' she said seriously. 'There'd be Fleurmont to come back to occasionally, and more often if we have a child. You're never to feel you're depriving
me of anything. All I ask is to be with you. It doesn't matter at this moment, but promise me you'll choose what you truly want most.'
'I promise you, my darling,' he said quietly.
'Thank you.' She knew what his choice would be, but it didn't matter because she had spoken no less than the truth about requiring only to be with him. 'You see, your happiness is mine.'
