by Anne Mather
All that remained was for her to tie up the loose ends of her life, like cancelling the milk and papers, and making arrangements with her neighbour to keep an eye on the apartment for her. Of Simon, she saw nothing, and she was relieved. The last thing she needed right now was for him to come poking around and discover she was doing what he had accused her of. It was a job of work, she told herself severely, but she could not entirely dispel the sense of anticipation the trip engendered. After all, she had never been to Canada, she had never crossed the Atlantic before, and the idea of spending three weeks in the open spaces of the Mid-West was doubly appealing after the confines of the city.
Because she was going with them, Jared had delayed their return until Wednesday, and Glyn had remained in the hospital. He could have gone to the hotel, but he had not wanted to, and Rhia understood his aversion to finding his feet in the public rooms of such an establishment.
On Wednesday morning, a taxi arrived at nine o’clock to take her to Gatwick, and as the driver stowed her suitcases in the front of the cab, she knew a sudden shiver of apprehension. She really was living dangerously, she thought, whatever way she looked at it. And even the curly blonde wig residing in her suitcase did not give her the reassurance that perhaps it should.
The Frazers were waiting for her at the airport. They had been shown to a private room, in deference to Glyn’s condition, and waiting on the tarmac was the sleek executive jet that was to transport them to their destination.
‘Do you like the Learjet?’ asked Glyn, groping for her hand as she seated herself rather nervously beside him. ‘Powerful little machine, isn’t she? She’s got a maximum speed of nearly five hundred and fifty m.p.h., almost as fast as some of the bigger jets, and she handles like a dream!’
Rhia tried to keep calm. Her experience of flying had been limited to a package trip to Spain aboard a BAC 1–11, and this aircraft seemed awfully small to be capable of crossing the Atlantic.
‘You—er—you’ve flown the plane?’ she ventured, trying not to sound as apprehensive as she felt, but Glyn shook his head.
‘No,’ he averred. ‘But Jared has. Although he employs a pilot for these long trips, because they’re so boring.’
‘Boring!’ Rhia’s voice rose slightly at the end of the word, and Jared, who had been in consultation with another man at the far side of the room, finished his conversation and came to join them.
‘Ready?’ he asked, and Rhia glanced up at him reluctantly.
‘I suppose so,’ she said, keeping her breathing steady with an effort. But she was intensely conscious of his nearness, and the fact that he seemed to have succeeded in dismissing what had happened between them without apparent effort.
‘Good.’ His smile was impersonal. ‘Vince says we can get on board.’
Lisa insisted on helping her son across the tarmac and up the steps into the plane, and for a brief spell Rhia and Jared were alone. It was the first opportunity for private conversation they had had since that afternoon at her apartment, but Rhia could have wished it had come at some other time.
‘Don’t be nervous,’ he remarked, as they followed the others towards the plane. ‘It should be a smooth flight. Most likely you’ll fall asleep, as soon as we’ve reached our cruising height.’
Rhia stiffened. ‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said tautly. ‘I’ll be fine. So long as Glyn’s all right, that’s all that matters.’
‘As you say.’ Jared’s mouth tightened at her implication, and for a few moments there was silence between them. Then, as she was about to climb the steps leading up into the plane, his hand on her sleeve detained her. ‘Thank you for coming,’ he said. ‘I haven’t had a chance yet to thank you, but I want you to know, I do appreciate this. Particularly after—well, particularly after I almost blew it!’
So long as I don’t blow it myself, thought Rhia bitterly, mounting the steps without answering him. Her attraction towards him had not decreased—quite the reverse; and three weeks spent in his company was going to put an intolerable strain on her emotions.
The interior of the jet was laid out like a luxurious lounge, with deep armchairs, and polished tables, and a thick pile carpet upon the floor. There were lockers to store those bags that had not been stowed in the hold, and a white-coated steward to attend to their needs.
‘There’s even a bedroom aft, where Jared sleeps when he flies overnight,’ Glyn told her, assuring himself that she took the chair next to his, and Rhia’s skin prickled with the unpleasant task of conjecturing whether Lisa had shared it with him on the outward flight.
She was introduced to the two pilots who, along with Jared himself, would navigate the plane. ‘Maybe later on you’d like to come and join us and see how it’s done,’ Vince Harding offered with friendly irreverence, but Rhia doubted she would leave her seat once they were off the ground.
Take-off was smooth and uneventful. Jared remained in the cabin as they taxied along the runway, and Rhia noticed Lisa’s scarlet-tipped nails digging into his fingers as the light aircraft rose into the murky skies above London.
For a time, cloud enveloped them, but then they emerged into the brilliant sunlight above the clouds, and Rhia relaxed as the initial strain on the engines was eased. They were actually on their way, she thought, feeling an irresistible surge of wellbeing, that was only partly doused when she encountered Jared’s gaze as he rose from his seat.
‘Okay?’ He addressed himself to Glyn, squatting down beside his nephew and attracting his attention.
‘What? Oh, yeah—I’m fine,’ Glyn nodded, swallowing a little tensely, and Rhia realised for the first time how unnerving it must have been for him, being unable to see or look out for himself.
‘Do you want a drink?’ his uncle suggested, squeezing Glyn’s arm by way of approval, and Glyn nodded a little jerkily.
‘Scotch,’ he agreed huskily, emitting a short laugh. ‘How about you, Val? Are you going to join me?’
Rhia looked doubtful, and the steward, emerging from his compartment at that moment, made another suggestion: ‘Perhaps the young lady would prefer some coffee,’ he remarked, and Rhia gave him a grateful smile.
‘Yes. Yes, coffee would be lovely,’ she agreed, and Jared inclined his head politely, before leaving the steward to his task.
Lunch was served as they passed over the northernmost tip of Britain, and Rhia found herself enjoying the rich salmon bisque, and plump Aylesbury duckling, served in a delicious orange sauce. Bates, as the steward was called, was certainly an expert chef, she reflected, and then grimaced at Glyn when he explained everything was prepared before it came aboard.
‘Oh, it’s not the rubber food they serve on the airlines,’ he agreed. ‘It’s freshly cooked and served. But don’t imagine Bates puts on his apron and starts peeling potatoes himself, because he doesn’t.’
Jared spent the early part of the flight seated at one of the tables, studying some files he had taken from a briefcase. He was interrupted from time to time by Lisa, who evidently resented his absorption in the papers, and Rhia couldn’t altogether blame her when Glyn paid his mother so little attention.
After lunch, Rhia did indeed fall asleep, much to her astonishment afterwards. The restless night she had spent combined with the nervous energy she had used up preparatory to take-off had been exhausting, and, comfortably fed and watered, she found it pleasant just to close her eyes.
She awakened to the not so pleasant awareness that they were losing height, but when she cast a hasty look out of the window, she was relieved to see buildings below them.
‘Are we there?’ she exclaimed, turning back to Glyn, and he chuckled amiably at her obvious naïveté.
‘No,’ he said. ‘This is Reykjavik, Iceland. We’re just coming down here to refuel.’
‘Iceland!’ Rhia stared disbelievingly out of the window. ‘I didn’t know we were going to land in Iceland.’
‘Why should you?’ observed Lisa, from her seat across the cabin. ‘I don’t suppo
se you’re a very seasoned traveller—Val. Or am I mistaken?’
‘No. No, I’m not a seasoned traveller,’ Rhia answered quietly, and had returned her gaze to the window again when Jared spoke.
‘We’re making a curve that takes us up close to the Arctic Circle,’ he said, to the cabin in general, but to Rhia in particular. ‘Then we fly south over Greenland and the North-West territories to our eventual touchdown at Moose Bay.’
Rhia’s brow furrowed. ‘But I thought we were flying to Calgary.’
‘It’s easier to use that for definition,’ explained Glyn. ‘But we have our own airfield at Moose Bay, which is only a few miles from our spread.’
‘I see.’ Rhia shook her head. It was all so much more sophisticated than she had anticipated, and her own ideas of Canada shrank in comparison.
After they had left Reykjavik again, Jared disappeared into the pilot’s cabin, and after a while Vince Harding, the more senior of the two pilots, appeared and invited Rhia into the cabin.
Although she demurred, Glyn was enthusiastic. ‘Go on. Go!’ he said, urging her out of her seat. ‘You can come back and tell me what it’s like.’ His lips twisted, and although she knew he had made a concerted effort not to let his condition spoil the trip for her, his features mirrored his frustration. ‘Go, Val, don’t be afraid. Sitting in the pilot’s seat is the most self-glorifying thing in the world!’
Rhia was not so sure, but aware of Liza Frazer’s amused eyes upon her, she accompanied the man forward, bypassing Bates’s kitchen, and into the pilot’s cabin.
Jared was sitting in the co-pilot’s seat, having a casual exchange with Bruce Fairchild, the other pilot, but when Rhia entered he got to his feet, indicating his chair with mocking insistence.
Rhia did not immediately take it. She was too enthralled by the sensation just standing there was giving her. It was like stepping into a vacuum; there was nothing above or below them, and her stomach quivered in consternation. Sitting in the passenger cabin was so much different. There, she could deceive herself that she was not actually off the ground, and the carpet of broken cloud below them seemed to propound that illusion. But here, there seemed nothing between her and deep space, and she felt paralysed with fright.
‘Come on, sit down.’ Jared seemed to sense that she had frozen, and she was grateful for his hand to support her as she stepped towards the bank of instruments.
‘Are—are you sure it’ll be all right?’ she stammered, although she sank weakly into the co-pilot’s chair, as if contradicting her statement, and Jared exchanged a wry glance with Bruce Fairchild.
‘Sure,’ he answered her, squatting down beside her and fastening the straps about her. ‘No one’s asking you to fly the plane. Just get the feel of it.’
In the event, it was all incredibly exciting. Once her initial fears had fled, she began to enjoy herself. The powerful little jet inspired her confidence, and there was something thrilling in the knowledge that she was actually flying several miles above the earth.
When she returned to her seat, her legs were like jelly, and Glyn grunted at the sigh that seemed to emanate somewhere near her ankles. ‘Nothing to it, is there?’ he remarked, when she had recovered her composure. ‘Do you know, the big jets almost fly themselves. They can even land, too, totally on automatic, though I don’t believe they’ll ever take off in the same way.’
‘When they do, I shall stop flying with the airlines,’ put in Lisa dryly, examining the colour of her nails. ‘Once the pilot stays on the ground, so will I.’
It was early evening local time when the jet touched down at the little airfield of Moose Bay. For the past couple of hours they had been flying south over country mirrored with a thousand lakes, both large and small, and Rhia was glad Glyn had fallen asleep so that she could enjoy the view without feeling guilty. For her, it was all totally new and exciting, and although she knew that, by the time she was used to, it was already after midnight, she wasn’t particularly tired. Of course, the sleep she had had earlier had refreshed her, and after Bates had served a delicious afternoon tea, she had dozed again. But she guessed it was the adrenalin running through her veins that made her feel so energetic, and she could hardly wait for their arrival.
Acres of virgin forest spread themselves among the lakes, their rich green foliage looking dark and mysterious as the sun sank towards the west. It was a little unnerving to think about the vast distances they were covering, and to realise that if the plane came down, it could be weeks before anyone discovered their whereabouts.
She saw the small town of Moose Bay from the air, nestling on the edge of Moose Lake. Glyn told her it was Moose Lake, awake now, and as impatient as she was for their arrival. It looked different from small towns back in England, the houses of no apparent uniformity, the various lots sporting lakeshore moorings or swimming pools. As the Learjet made its approach to the airfield, she glimpsed the purple-shrouded peaks in the distance, and realised, with a feeling of awe, that she was within sight of the Rockies.
The formalities of disembarkation were soon dealt with. The Frazers were evidently well known in the area; but Jared kept their well-wishers at arm’s length, skilfully guiding Glyn through the familiar routine, and avoiding any over-enthusiastic overtures of sympathy.
Rhia, a little dazed by the bright lights of the airport buildings and chilled by the air, which was suddenly several degress below what she was used to, simply followed the others. She was enveloped by an unexpected feeling of weariness, as a sense of anti-climax replaced her earlier exhilaration, and her surroundings seemed strange to her, harsh and unwelcoming, and disturbingly alien.
They emerged on to a concrete parking lot, whose stark environs did little to lift Rhia’s spirits. Everywhere seemed flat and uninviting, and beyond the wire fence that enclosed the airstrip there appeared to be nothing but barren land. Where was the lake she had seen from the air, she wondered, the great pine forests that had stretched for miles and miles? All she could see right now was an expanse of unfriendly concrete, with nothing beyond but the gathering shadows of evening.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A DUST-SMEARED station wagon hove into view, accelerating along the road that bordered the parking area, its wheels squealing noisily as it swerved through the gates and raced towards them. Powerful brakes brought the huge vehicle to a halt in front of them, and a gum-chewing teenager swung out of the driving seat, giving Jared a rueful grimace.
‘Hi there, Mr Jared, sir—ma’am,’ he added, including Lisa in his salutation. ‘Sorry I’m late, but I didn’t know until a half hour ago that I was to come meet you. D’you have a good trip?’
Jared’s mouth drew into a wry line. ‘It was fair, Troy, it was fair,’ he conceded flatly. ‘Where’s Mr Frazer? He knew what time we were expected.’
The boy flushed, tipping the baseball hat he was wearing back on his unruly blond head. ‘Y’know how it is, Mr Jared,’ he muttered, picking up Rhia’s two suitcases and heaving them into the luggage rack at the back of the station wagon. ‘I guess Mr Fraser just didn’t know the time.’ His eyes flickered from Jared to Glyn, and he grinned a little awkwardly. ‘Hi there, Glyn. How are you?’
‘I’m okay, Troy.’ Glyn remained where he was, gripping Rhia’s arm, and with a thoughtful expression Jared turned to Lisa.
‘Okay, let’s move it,’ he said, the edge of impatience evident in his tone, and with a pout of indignation Lisa took Glyn’s free hand.
‘Come along, darling,’ she said. ‘Let me help—’
‘I can manage,’ declared Glyn, releasing himself abruptly, and causing Rhia’s heart to somersault as he lurched towards the car. But happily, his fingers encountered the door Jared had swung open at his approach, and he levered himself inside, with the minimum of difficulty. ‘You sit up front, Mom, like you usually do,’ he added, making himself comfortable. ‘Val, Troy and me will take the back.’
Jared drove, with Lisa beside him, her arm casually draped along the back of his s
eat. Rhia, squashed between Glyn and the boy Troy, found her eyes glued to the back of Jared’s head, and she could not help but observe Lisa’s fingers when they strayed possessively over his collar. It was as if the other woman couldn’t keep her hands off him, and Rhia’s blood pounded heavily in her veins as she watched that intimate caress.
Once, she encountered Jared’s eyes, reflected in the rear-view mirror, but she could gauge nothing from them. They were narrowed against the headlights of oncoming vehicles, illuminated in the gathering dusk, and guarded, as if unwilling to share his most private thoughts.
There was little to see beyond the road ahead, but as they left the airfield behind, there were at least signs of habitation. Rhia glimpsed flatboard houses, set back from the road, but without the little hedges or fences she was used to. Lights gleamed from shuttered windows, dogs barked, and in every driveway, a vehicle of a similar size to the one they were driving in seemed to be parked.
‘This is Highway 49,’ Glyn told her, as darkness descended. ‘It goes south to Willow Creek. We turn off it just along here, and then we’re on Frazer land, all the way.’
Jared said little on the journey, apart from exchanging a muffled word or two with his sister-in-law. Since the boy Troy’s arrival at the airport, he had become grim and morose, and Rhia could only assume it was because his father had not come to meet them. Perhaps Mr Frazer had something more important to do, she reflected, not altogether certain of what that something might be. But somehow she sensed Jared’s anger stemmed from more than mere pique at his father’s defection, and she sensed that the others knew what was wrong. It made her feel even more of an outsider, and even Glyn’s attention could not prevent her from feeling isolated.
