‘When are we going to hand out the presents?’ Frances asked impatiently, obviously finding it difficult to curb her curiosity about the gaily wrapped parcels which had been placed beneath the tree before dinner, and finding it impossible to understand how they could still linger over their coffee when such an important ceremony awaited them in the living-room. ‘It’s after eight o’clock already,’ she added, tightening her lips in a reproving manner, and resembling Bernard in a heart-wrenching way.
‘I suppose we can’t put it off much longer,’ Bernard sighed resignedly. ‘Drink up, everyone, and let’s not keep this young lady in suspense much longer. ’
The lights in the tree were switched on, and Peter was unanimously elected to hand out the presents, while Olivia somehow found herself seated on the sofa between Bernard and Frances. It was a devastating situation, for she was persistently aware of his muscular thigh touching hers and sending shivers of pleasure through her which she found difficult to ignore.
Peter supplied the humour while the gifts were handed out, speculating about the contents until he had everyone fingering their wrapped presents, and making wild guesses which evoked plenty of laughter. Olivia found no difficulty in guessing that her gift from Peter and Vivien was a bottle of perfume, for the expensive and subtle fragrance had penetrated the wrapping quite tantalisingly, but, when Bernard received her gift, several confusing suggestions were made by everyone, and he was forced to unwrap it eventually without guessing correctly.
His eyes flickered strangely as he stared at the tripod in his hands, then, taking her hand in his, he raised it to his lips and said quietly, ‘Thank you, my dear.’
No one, fortunately, noticed her flustered appearance, and within less than an hour the pile of Christmas presents had disappeared, except for a small rectangular parcel which was obviously the last, and most important of all, judging by Frances’ taut little face. Her dark eyes sparkled with suppressed excitement as she relieved Peter of his task and, to Olivia’s utter astonishment, Frances turned towards her and said:
‘Here’s another one for you, Olivia.’
‘For me?’ Olivia wanted to know, accepting it hesitantly.
‘Yes,’ Frances nodded quite firmly. ‘Open it quickly.’
Surprised to find that her hands were shaking, Olivia undid the wrapping while four pairs of eyes watched her intently. Lifting the lid with care, she caught her breath sharply, for against the wine-red velvet interior lay an expensive gold wristwatch, and the small card accompanying it indicated that it was from Bernard and Frances.
Olivia stared at it with mixed emotions. She could not accept such an outrageously expensive gift from Bernard and his daughter, yet, if she refused it, Frances would be deeply hurt. It was a devilish situation which left her very little choice, and Bernard must have known this when he had added Frances’ name to the small card.
‘Do you like it?’ Frances asked excitedly, and with a certain amount of expectancy as she broke the lengthy silence in the room.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Olivia sighed, expelling the air from her lungs as she stared at the intricate design. ‘But I—’
‘Daddy will put it on for you,’ Frances interrupted her tentative refusal, and large, strong hands removed the small box from her trembling hands.
His fingers were pleasantly warm against her skin as he fastened the watch to her wrist, but Olivia found that she could not raise her glance to his. She had never owned a watch before, and she was close to tears at the thought that Bernard and Frances should have thought of it. He held her wrist a moment longer than was necessary, but as he released her, she turned instinctively towards Frances and hugged the child against her.
‘Thank you very much, Frances,’ she said in a shaky voice. ‘I don’t deserve such a wonderful gift, but thank you.’
‘Aren’t you going to kiss Daddy too?’ Frances demanded happily after Olivia had kissed her warmly on the cheek before releasing her.
‘Well, I—’
‘Vivien and I promise not to look if that will make it easier for you,’ Peter teased her mercilessly.
‘That—won’t be necessary,’ Olivia managed, struggling to control the rapid throb of her pulses as she turned towards the silent man seated beside her. ‘Thank you, Bernard.’
She raised her lips to his cheek, but he turned his head at the last moment and their lips met. She tried to draw back instantly, but his arm went firmly about her slim shoulders and, to her utter confusion and dismay, he continued to kiss her with lingering intent.
‘That,’ he stressed the word wickedly, ‘was a pleasure.’
Furious and embarrassed, she knew only too well that he was referring to the kiss they had exchanged, and not to her murmured thanks, but Vivien and Peter, and Frances too, found the whole episode extremely amusing. There was nothing much she could do, she realised at length, except laugh off his kiss with flaming cheeks, but she dearly wished that she possessed the ability to wipe that mocking smile from his face.
CHAPTER TEN
Olivia was experiencing a Christmas Eve entirely different from what she had been used to. While her Aunt Georgina had been
alive, they had always spent Christmas quietly at home, and usually alone. They had no family whom they could have invited over, and the few close friends Aunt Georgina possessed nearly always spent Christmas with their own families. Olivia’s last Christmas in Johannesburg before coming to Louisville she had spent alone, making arrangements for her aunt’s funeral, and Christmas Day had come and gone without her actually realising it. Now, as she sat basking in the warmth of this family she had come to know, she could not help thinking of the loneliness and despair she had lived through a year ago.
Shaking off her dismal thoughts, she tried to concentrate on the conversation, but Frances, who had been allowed to stay up late on this occasion, finally admitted that all the excitement had exhausted her and, saying goodnight to everyone, she went off to bed, clutching her presents against her as if they were her most treasured possessions.
With Frances no longer there, Olivia shifted her position on the sofa while Bernard poured them something to drink, but her action had not gone unnoticed as she had hoped. Vivien hid a smile as Olivia’s glance met hers, but there was no mistaking the amusement lurking in her eyes, and Olivia looked away hastily, wishing that she did not blush so easily.
Bernard made no comment about the distance she had placed between them, and the incident passed without further embarrassment as they sat talking in the living-room with the festive atmosphere still lingering in the air. The hours slipped by unnoticed until Peter announced that it was after eleven and time he got a few hours’ sleep before someone decided to call him out during the early hours of the morning. Vivien said goodnight reluctantly, following Peter from the room and, suddenly, Olivia was alone with Bernard.
‘I think it’s time I went to bed as well,’ she said hastily, rising to her feet, but Bernard gripped her wrist lightly and drew her down beside him again.
‘Stay and have a glass of sherry with me.’
‘I’ve had one already, and I don’t think I should have another,’ she declined politely, but Bernard was already pouring the crimson liquid into two long-stemmed glasses and handing one to her in a way that made their fingers touch unavoidably, sparking off an awareness in Olivia that quickened her pulse.
‘One more sherry won’t harm you,’ he smiled slightly, touching the rim of his glass to hers. ‘To the future.’
An awkward silence settled between them as the tall, old-fashioned grandfather clock in the hall relentlessly ticked away the minutes towards midnight. Olivia drank her sherry a little too quickly, and it seemed to rush straight to her head, making her alarmingly lightheaded and strangely lethargic as she leaned back against the padded backrest of the sofa and fingered the gold strap of her watch where it lay warm against the delicately veined skin of her slender wrist.
‘This watch was your idea, wasn’t it, Bernard
?’ she asked, her voice sounding a little cool and distant.
‘It was,’ he admitted, turning towards her and cupping her chin in his hand as he raised her face to his. ‘Don’t you like it?’
‘I like it very much,’ she contradicted, his touch quickening her pulse, ‘but you knew I wouldn’t accept such an expensive gift from you, so you involved Frances and made it impossible for me to refuse it without hurting her feelings.’
‘You’re quite right,’ he admitted, his eyes lingering for a moment on her soft mouth which was barely inches from his. For one frightening moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but he released her abruptly and moved a little away from her. ‘Are you going to throw it back at me now that we are alone?’
He did not look at her, and she had a mad, impulsive desire to slide her hand over his dark, swiftly greying head to where the hair lay trimmed neatly against the back of his strong neck.
Alarmed by what she had contemplated, she said a little shakily, ‘It would be most ungracious of me to throw your gift back at you, besides ... ’ she smiled then as he glanced at her with a curious expression flitting across his face, ‘I’ve never owned anything as beautiful as this before, within a few minutes it will be Christmas Day, a day that shouldn’t be marred by ill feelings or uncharitable behaviour. ’
Bernard stared at her for some time, his eyes probing hers as if he wished to discover what lay beneath the surface of her composure before he drew her to her feet and walked with her in silence from the room, their footsteps echoing lightly on the tiled floor as they crossed the entrance hall, but muffled by the thick carpet as they turned off into the darkened passage towards her room.
Outside her door he drew her into his arms and sought the softness of her mouth with his. Lightheaded as a result of the sherry she had swallowed down too quickly, Olivia offered no resistance as he kissed her with persuasive warmth until she clung to him weakly, wishing that this moment would go on for ever, but, to her dismay, it ended all too soon. Bernard released her, and she swayed back against the door, staring up into his shadowed face almost accusingly as he stepped away from her.
‘Merry Christmas, Olivia,’ he murmured hoarsely, and then he was gone, leaving her confused and trembling with emotions which were becoming increasingly difficult to control.
Christmas Day was hot and humid, the air heavy with the scent of roses and honeysuckle as they lounged on the cool verandah. Evalina had prepared a feast for the midday dinner, and they all seemed to suffer from a lazy inertia afterwards, except Frances, who ran about outside catching butterflies in a miniature net.
‘It’s quite disgusting that she should be so energetic while I feel as though I’ve been pumped full of lead,’ Vivien groaned beside Olivia.
‘No one told you to eat enough for three,’ Peter accused laughingly, following Bernard’s example and leaning back in his chair with his long legs stretched out before him.
‘I couldn’t help it,’ Vivien argued with a rueful grin. ‘The roast turkey was just out of this world, and the plum pudding was superb. I just couldn’t resist having a second helping of each. ’
‘I seem to remember that you had a second helping of several other dishes as well,’ Peter continued, his blue eyes twinkling with humour as he counted on his fingers. ‘There were the roast potatoes, the glazed carrots, the spicy stuffing Evalina had prepared for the turkey, and a liberal amount of cheese sauce on a double helping of cauliflower. ’
‘You’re a beast!’ Vivien scolded him, squirming a little as she shifted herself into a more comfortable position in her chair. ‘If I have to rattle off a list of what you and Bernard consumed between you, you’d feel more than uncomfortable, you’d feel sick!’
‘Then please don’t,’ Bernard groaned, touching his flat stomach gingerly. ‘I don’t think Peter and I could take it just at this moment. ’
‘But I was forced to listen to a resume of all the things I ate,’ Vivien protested indignantly.
‘You’re the one who complained,’ Peter reminded her wickedly, grinning at Olivia who sat listening to this interchange in amused silence. ‘I haven’t heard you complaining yet, Olivia.’
‘I’d better not,’ she laughed. ‘I’m just as guilty of eating too much as the rest of you. ’
‘There speaks a wise woman,’ Bernard sighed lazily, clasping his, hands behind his head and closing his eyes against the glare of the sun.
Olivia observed him for a moment, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his broad chest, and the firm mouth above the square determined jaw. Her treacherous thoughts recalled the touch of his lips the previous evening, and her pulse quickened at the memory of her own response. His eyelashes flickered and she looked away hastily, out across the sunlit garden with its spacious lawns and colourful borders where Frances continued to stalk the unsuspecting butterflies.
This was a Christmas she would always remember, and not even Ilona’s arrival at Mountain View later that afternoon succeeded in spoiling it for her as she watched the beautiful, slim redhead succeed in claiming Bernard’s attention to the exclusion of herself.
Olivia went to the late night church service on Old Year’s Eve and spent a quiet New Year’s Day with Oom Hennie and Tante Maria, but Louisville became a beehive of activity during the following week as the final preparations for the show got under way. It was to be held that first Saturday of the month, and all the shops would close at eleven-thirty on that morning to enable everyone to attend. Tante Maria would man the pancake stall, leaving Oom Hennie alone in the shop that morning, and Vivien, Olivia knew, would be helping with the curry and rice. Everyone was involved in this event to some extent, and the excitement swelled among the inhabitants almost to a fever pitch.
Vivien rushed into the shop just after eight-thirty on that eventful Saturday morning, and wasted no time in coming to the point.
‘Olivia, about that tapestry of yours.’
‘I’m not entering it,’ Olivia said stubbornly.
‘The judging doesn’t start before ten this morning, and there’s still time before the entries close at nine,’ she insisted coaxingly.
‘Vivien, please,’ Olivia began despairingly, her eyes widening with alarm as Vivien marched determinedly behind the counter and took the bunch of keys off the hook. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Taking your keys and going up to your flat to collect your tapestry whether you give me permission or not,’ Vivien stated firmly.
‘But, Vivien—’ Olivia protested helplessly, but as Vivien hurried from the shop she shrugged her slim shoulders resignedly and sighed, ‘Oh, what’s the use?’
‘Here are your keys,’ Vivien said a few minutes later when she re-entered the shop with the framed tapestry under her arm, dropping the bunch of keys unceremoniously on the counter. ‘Come to the show grounds when you’re finished here this morning, and I’ll treat you to a curry and rice lunch, with
pancakes and coffee to round off the meal.’
‘All right, Vivien,’ she nodded, her glance appealing, ‘but I wish you wouldn’t enter my tapestry in the show.’
‘It’s too good to remain hidden in your flat,’ Vivien insisted smilingly, turning towards the entrance. ‘’Bye for now.’
The blue Fiat disappeared down the street a few seconds later and Olivia shook her head helplessly. Vivien, like Bernard, was not easily thwarted once she had made up her mind about something, but such determination nearly always succeeded in sapping Olivia’s resistance, and leaving her without a will of her own. She would have to take care, or she might find herself completely dominated by these people, although Vivien always meant it in the nicest way, whereas Bernard ... ? Well, she could not be too sure about Bernard.
The morning dragged by with very few customers and very little to do, which was to be expected when all the activity was taking place in the large open space at the end of the main street, with its enclosed brick buildings, stalls, and cattle kraals, which were used to their fullest advant
age on this one most exciting day of the year.
From force of habit, Olivia glanced up at the electric clock against the wall before she remembered that she had a watch of her own, gleaming on her wrist as a reminder of this Christmas just past. Ten minutes past eleven. Another twenty minutes and she could lock the door for the day and join the thronging crowds down the street, she thought with a touch of impatience.
‘Olivia!’ her name was called excitedly, and she looked up to see Frances storming into the shop, her cheeks flushed, and her breath rasping over her lips as a result of running all the way from the show ground, no doubt, Olivia thought as she caught hold of the child. ‘Olivia, you’ve won!’
‘Calm down, Frances,’ Olivia urged, unable to grasp the reason for such frantic excitement. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Your tapestry,’ Frances explained, clapping her hands and bounding up and down with her pigtails flying. ‘It’s won first
prize, and you must come at once!’
‘Frances, you can’t be serious,’ she accused in disbelief. ‘Not my tapestry, surely?’
‘Yes, yes! Oh, do come, Olivia,’ the child insisted, her face alight with excitement.
‘I can’t close up the shop,’ Olivia dithered, unable to believe the news Frances had imparted to her. ‘It isn’t eleven-thirty yet.’ Frances was losing patience with her and grabbed her hand. ‘It’s almost eleven-thirty, Olivia. Please come at once!’
‘Oh, well, I suppose I might as well,’ she agreed, grabbing her handbag and keys and following Frances quickly from the shop.
They drove up to the show grounds in the Apache, and Olivia found herself hovering between disbelief and a quivering excitement as she sought confirmation from Frances.
‘You’re not pulling my leg, are you, Frances? About my tapestry, I mean?’
‘Nol’ Frances laughed, shaking her head firmly from side to side. ‘I saw it myself, and Aunty Viv sent me to tell you about it, and to ask you to come. That’s why I ran all the way.’
Magic of the Baobab Page 17
