Cyclone Season

by Victoria Gordon

‘How I wish it were true,’ Jessica replied. ‘And from the colour of Holly’s face I should have taken her with me. What have you two been up to?’

  Holly waited until she’d clasped her aunt in a gentle hug before attempting a reply, but Wade beat her to it. ‘Holly just found out that being a sun goddess isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,’ he chuckled, then laughed outright as Holly actually managed a blush that outshone her sunburn.

  ‘Anyway, I can’t stay and chat. I’m supposed to be at Marble Bar, working, not entertaining ladies, no matter how eminently entertainable.’

  ‘Well before you go, I’d certainly like two minutes of your precious time,’ Jessica replied, obviously not at all intimidated by his show of authority. ‘What about this party on Friday night? Do you have anything special in mind, or can Holly and I just plan it as we please?’

  Wade frowned, the move thrusting deep creases down his tanned face. ‘I thought under the circumstances we’d forget about it,’ he began. ‘After all, you’re supposed to be taking it easy,’

  ‘And I shall, although not if I have to spend the next two days retracting all the invitations,’ Jessica replied pertly.

  ‘Now hang on. There are forty or fifty people involved. You oughtn’t to be mucking about catering to a crowd like that.’

  ‘I don’t intend to. Or at least not totally. Holly will help, of course, and ...’

  ‘And without taking anything away from Holly, you’ll still end up overworking yourself, because that’s your way,’ he interrupted. ‘I’m not sure even the two of us could manage to keep you under control, and as it is, I mightn’t get back with time to do more than shower, change and start playing gracious host. I tell you, Jess, 1 don’t think much of the idea.’

  ‘And that’s just because you’re a typical chauvinist,’ was the unexpected reply. ‘You just can’t understand how easy it is to cater for forty or fifty people, especially if we just do a monster barbecue. There’s the big barbecue spit, and I’ve time to arrange for a pig if I get on to the butcher straight away. The rest is only a few potatoes and a few salads; no work in that.’

  Wade wasn’t happy, but he could see. Holly thought, that this was one argument he must lose. ‘Oh, all right,’ he finally muttered. ‘But I want it clearly understood: you use disposable everything, knives, forks, plates, glasses, the lot. And Holly, if she doesn’t damned well take things easy enough to suit you, then shut the whole effort down. I don’t care whose feelings get hurt. And don’t overwork yourself, either; is that clear?’

  ‘Abundantly,’ she replied, meeting his gaze with her own eyes shining with thanks. She knew how difficult it must be for him, yet both of them realised arguing with Jessica wasn’t the way to keep her relaxed and calm. Better if Holly at least tried to take charge, and with Wade’s support did her best to ensure that Jessica was forced to take things easy.

  Her aunt, however, seemed quite prepared to accept the new arrangements. ‘I do hereby promise not to overwork,’ she solemnly declared, ‘especially after seeing what happened to Alan Mason. You’ll remember the attack he suffered during the party you attended?’ she said to a shocked and suddenly wary Holly, ‘well he apparently had another one the very next day! True,’ she continued, apparently thinking Holly’s astonished look was understandable, ‘he was in hospital the same time I was, with a broken nose, a black eye and several broken ribs. He apparently blacked out and fell down some stairs.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Holly had to take a deep breath before she even dared look up at Wade, wondering as she did so if he could even bring himself to meet her eyes.

  Another attack the very next day! Astonishing, especially considering the nature of Alan Mason’s first attack. Even more astonishing, considering that only she and Wade knew the exact nature of that first attack.

  But whatever she expected to see in Wade’s eyes, it wasn’t the calm, bland expression of total innocence that met her own fiery gaze. He looked straight into her eyes, his own like ocean-deep pools of still, fathomless green ice.

  ‘I think the grog must be getting to Alan,’ he said in a voice notable only for what it didn’t reveal.

  ‘Well, that wouldn’t surprise me,’ Jessica piped up, seeming oblivious to the aura of awareness that hung between Wade and Holly like some tangible, almost visible cloud. ‘Alan Mason never could hold his liquor, and he’s got worse over the past few years.’

  Holly nearly gasped. Her immediate question, one that she could, of course, never ask, was whether Ramona Mason’s father might have at some time made a pass at Jessica, too.

  It wasn’t beyond the bounds of reason. Her aunt was still, even taking into account her illness, an exceptionally striking woman, and if Mason had been a business associate of Wade’s, they must surely have crossed paths on various occasions.

  But there was another question that seemed far more important, especially since it seemed clear Wade wasn’t going to give her any answers, and Holly found herself unable to keep from considering it after Wade’s departure and their own dispersal for the long drive home.

  What had really happened to Alan Mason? Only Wade, Holly, and the man himself knew the true nature of his first attack, so what of the second one, occurring so very, very coincidentally the very next day? He could, indeed, have really blacked out and fallen down some stairs, but the reported injuries sounded suspiciously specific and not truly in line with logic. Wasn’t there a saying that drunks couldn’t hurt themselves falling?

  Holly would have bet money that Wade Bannister had something to do with Alan Mason’s attack, but if he had, he obviously wasn’t going to say so, and certainly she didn’t dare ask. Not in front of Aunt Jessica, at any rate. It would mean too many explanations of a type she didn’t care to become involved in.

  And her sunburn was creating quite enough explanations, Holly found as her aunt questioned her about that on the trip home. She managed, she thought, to pass off the incident as being totally trivial, but Jessica was shrewd, far too shrewd, for Holly’s taste.

  Just as well that Wade was going off ‘bush’ for several days. With all three of them in the same house, it would take very little time indeed for her aunt to deduce Holly’s growing feelings for the man, and since they were feelings that must be quite unrequited, they must be kept at a level that didn’t make Jessica either suspicious or overly optimistic about the future success of her matchmaking.

  ‘I’m certainly pleased that you didn’t suffer too severe a burn, Holly,’ her aunt said. ‘I feel quite badly about it, because it’s something I certainly should have warned you about.’

  ‘It’s something I shouldn’t have had to be warned about,’ Holly replied. ‘But, as you say, I was lucky to get off so lightly. I’ll know better next time.’

  ‘Of course you will, dear. It’s like so many other aspects of living up here; it’s mostly common sense and I know you’ve plenty of that.’

  ‘Even if Wade ... Mr Bannister isn’t so sure,’ Holly replied. ‘Not that I blame him, actually. It must have given him quite a shock to return home to find a lobster in his hammock.’

  ‘Not if his memories are still good,’ Jessica replied with a chuckle. ‘I seem to remember doing almost exactly the same thing during the first week I was here, and I certainly should have known better, having spent several years in Darwin before I came to work for Wade.’

  ‘You did something as silly as that? Oh, I can’t believe that,’ Holly laughed. ‘And certainly Mr Bannister couldn’t have remembered or he’d have said something, I’m sure. He, well, he certainly went out of his way to put me at ease about the whole thing, I must say.’

  ‘Oh, he would. Wade is one of the gentlest men I’ve ever encountered,’ Jessica said. To which Holly almost laughed aloud, thinking of Alan Mason’s second incident and her own interpretation of what must really have happened. Or was she reading too much circumstantial evidence into it? The Wade Bannister she knew would, without question, have physically chastised A
lan Mason — but only if he were totally certain it was deserved. Which, as she remembered, he hadn’t been at all.

  ‘I’m certainly glad to see that you two seem to be getting along better than you originally expected,’ Jessica said, interrupting Holly’s thoughts. ‘I ... I really must admit, Holly, that I had hoped you would. J know your feelings about matchmaking, and yet ... well ...’

  ‘Well — nothing! Somebody your age, if you don’t mind me throwing that into it, should know very well you can’t mix apples and oranges,’ Holly replied gravely. ‘I am not Wade Bannister’s type and he certainly isn’t mine, thank you very much, but we shall get along comfortably enough while I’m here. Anything beyond that is purely in your imagination and I wish you’d accept that.’

  ‘Oh, but I do,’ Jessica replied, and promptly lapsed into a silence that lasted the duration of their journey home.

  Once home, thankfully, she immediately pleaded tiredness from her journey and retired for a rest, giving Holly a reprieve from the inquisition she knew must eventually come.

  Did Holly like Wade Bannister? I love him. Did Holly not think he was handsome? I think he’s breathtaking. Did Holly not think they were compatible? Definitely not!

  And that evening. Holly began to wish that Jessica had got stuck into such an inquisition — which she didn’t — instead of throwing herself headlong into the preparations for Friday’s party.

  They spent the evening organising the requirements of the guest list, accommodation for those from outside Port Hedland, transportation for those who might require it, a general plan of attack for the party as a whole. It was Tuesday night, which didn’t really leave them a lot of time, but surely it was enough, Holly thought, that Jessica needn’t get quite so involved.

  ‘I am not overdoing anything,’ her aunt insisted. ‘The secret of good entertaining is good planning; planning may be time consuming, but it isn’t and shouldn’t be stressful.’

  ‘But you should be back in bed,’ Holly finally said. ‘It’s ten o’clock and I, for one, am very tired indeed. So please can we leave it until morning?’

  ‘Only if you accept that no matter what Wade says, I will not accept being molly-coddled,’ Jessica replied sternly. ‘I am not an invalid and I am not a child.’

  ‘No, you’re just a stubborn old woman who’s far too used to having her own way,’ Holly replied just as peevishly. ‘And I am here to tell you, dear Aunt Jessica, that it won’t work with me. You’re supposed to be taking things easy and I intend to make very, very certain that you do. Now will you please — please — stop arguing and pack it in for tonight?’

  Jessica grudgingly relented, and after she’d gone off to bed Holly sat down over a cup of hot chocolate, her head in her hands as she wondered if either of them could survive the next few days. Already, she could fully sympathise with Wade’s anger towards her aunt and the woman’s refusal to slow down, to accept that her refusal to admit to being ill might even be dangerous.

  And if anything happened to Jessica now, while, at least in Wade’s opinion, she was under Holly’s care ... ‘He’d never forgive me, not that I’d be able to forgive myself,’ she muttered aloud.

  When she finally went to bed, Holly slept poorly. She kept having visions of the next three days being one long, continuous confrontation with Jessica’s stubbornness, and seemed to lie awake most of the night dreaming up ways to combat it without forcing a hurtful confrontation.

  But in the morning, she found a changed Jessica, a reasonable woman miraculously resigned to her situation and no longer so ready to ignore her fragile health.

  ‘I’m sorry about last night,’ she said almost immediately upon entering the kitchen where Holly was sipping at her coffee. ‘You’re right; I am a stubborn old woman, and you were even more right to put me in my place.’

  ‘You’re an old fraud is what you are,’ Holly laughed. ‘You know very well that your Mr Bannister will quite likely phone today, and you just want me able to say that you’ve behaved.’

  ‘He’s an extremely busy man; it wouldn’t do to have him worrying about nothing,’ Jessica replied. ‘Of course, he’ll worry anyway because he’s that type, but I wouldn’t want him to think, well ...’

  ‘Well then you won’t mind promising to behave? Not just today, but right through until this party is over and done with, in fact, until you’re through the next batch of tests, so we know for sure just how serious your condition is?’ Holly kept her voice calm, but the determination wasn’t hidden. She would get control of this situation now, she vowed.

  ‘Oh, all right. I will promise,’ Jessica agreed. ‘But just remember that I won’t put up with being excluded completely, either. This is to be our party, and I do want it to go off well.’

  ‘Nobody wants to exclude you; what I want is to be sure you’re in fit shape to attend the party,’ Holly retorted. ‘Which means that you do the planning and I do the work. And, you get plenty of rest.’

  Her severity seemed to work, too. Jessica was remarkably subdued during the rest of the day. Holly organised the whole pig for the spit roast, whipped into town to purchase the vast quantities of disposable plates, glasses and cutlery they’d need, along with a variety of decorations, arranged for the hire of several trestle tables and folding chairs, bought enough potatoes, she thought, to feed a regiment, and returned home to find her aunt resting, which rather surprised her.

  The biggest surprise, however, was contained in Wade’s telephone call that evening from Marble Bar.

  ‘How is the old dragon? Giving you any trouble?’

  Those were his first two questions, and the grunted acceptance of Holly’s replies: ‘Okay’ and ‘Not really’ didn’t give her a lot of satisfaction. It didn’t sound as if he believed her, just for starters.

  She was more voluble in describing how well the party plans were going, but from his replies she got the feeling he was preoccupied, a feeling that was later confirmed when he asked to speak to Jessica. The aunt’s replies left little unsaid.

  ‘A house-guest and helper? Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, although certainly we have everything almost under control now anyway. Of course we have room; that’s not an issue at all. Well, it certainly isn’t necessary, but if you insist.’

  The strained expression on her aunt’s face both shocked and surprised Holly, but the greatest shock came when Jessica put down the telephone and said, ‘Ramona Mason will be arriving tomorrow morning to give us a hand.’

  As it turned out, that was the understatement of the year. When Ramona alighted from a taxi late next morning, equipped with enough luggage for a six-month stay, it was immediately clear that she had no intention of giving anyone a hand — she intended to take over entirely.

  ‘Of course, what you’ve done so far is, well, all right. As far as it goes,’ she said after being installed in a bedroom conveniently just across the hall from Wade’s. ‘But really, this business of paper plates and plastic glasses. Well it just won’t do. There are important people coming to this party, people who simply shouldn’t be expected to drink champagne from plastic glasses.

  Jessica took the easy course. She pleaded her ill- health and stayed out of it as much as possible. Holly had no such excuse.

  The issue of the glasses turned out to be one of the less important, and by that evening Holly would have sold her soul for any excuse to avoid Ramona’s involvement in what had been planned as a relatively simple party.

  There was nothing Ramona could do to change the spit-roasted pig concept, but that was about the only aspect of the party which remained inviolate. The blonde found fault with every bit of Holly and Jessica’s planning, generally on the excuse that the visitors to the party were ‘important’ and therefore deserved only the best.

  Wade’s concept of beer, white wine and/or orange juice was among the first to go. There would be beer, of course, but only for what Ramona termed ‘those few with common tastes’. Using Wade’s credit facilities as if they were her own �
� and giving everyone the impression that if they were not, they soon would be — she ordered champagne by the magnum, spirits by the case, and hired a complete range of plates, glasses, cutlery and trimmings to match.

  The trestle tables must be covered in fine table-clothes, ‘You’ll see to that, of course, Miss Grange’ and of course there must be sufficient shade. And certainly there would have to be a wide, complete range of canapés and hors d’oeuvres.

  She took great delight, although never — Holly noticed — in Jessica’s hearing, in muttering about the folly of entrusting party planning to one’s housekeeping staff, and alienated everyone at the town’s best hotel by re-arranging accommodation arrangements for those people arriving from elsewhere.

  Holly found her own role shrinking to that of unpaid, unwanted housemaid, and spent most of the last two days washing, ironing, dusting and cleaning, while Ramona swanned about like some exotic southern belle in a poor American movie.

  ‘I may kill her,’ she confided to Jessica when she paused for a breather and a brief visit. ‘Slowly ... painfully.’

  ‘Not worth the trouble,’ was the surprisingly bright reply. ‘I’d just give her enough rope and let her do it herself. She’s bound to, sooner or later.’

  ‘Not soon enough. Last week wouldn’t be soon enough,’ Holly replied with a great gnashing of her perfect teeth. ‘I have just never seen such unmitigated gall, never in all my life. That woman is ... well, she’s just unbelievable.’

  Holly had just spent two hours rearranging various potted plants in the garden area — potted plants hired by Ramona and arranged, re-arranged and further rearranged by Holly at Ramona’s instructions.

  It had been difficult to hold her temper, especially when Ramona took every opportunity to criticise, but Holly fought and managed, just barely, to keep from blowing up.

  The only saving grace of the entire situation was the pig and the myriad preparations that were needed if it was to become the centrepiece for the party. Pigs, for whatever reason, did not come under Ramona’s inflated sense of responsibility.