by Lucy Walker
Her heart gave a painful lurch. She put the back of her arm across her eyes for now she knew. She really knew. She had known all the time but would never accept it. It had taken the sound of his laugh outside the door of a strange house in a strange town to force her to admit she was not only in love with him, she loved him. They were two different complaints and she had them both.
Down there on the beach at the foot of the Street of the Pines she had fallen in love with him without even knowing his name or ever having spoken a word to him. That was something that might have been cured by absence and the process of growing up. But fortune had willed she would go and live in the same house with him, get plane-wrecked in a jungle with him, and find out he was as lovable as he was attractive. To someone like Cherry, young, ardent and wide open to fall in love with a handsome man at fifty yards distance, Fate had played a further hand in the game and dealt out the Jack of Hearts in the middle of a jungle.
Of course he was lovable. Every time he had smiled or teased her she had deliberately turned it into something less kindly.
Why?
Because she had unconsciously been trying to protect herself.
To find him lovable was to love him and to love him was to get hurt. Badly. She was only the governess, and on that station he was a kind of royalty. He belonged to people like Hugh and Betty Denton and Tracy. He belonged to Peter and Peter belonged to him.
There was a dry, unuttered, desolate sob in Cherry’s throat.
They all belong to one another. And I belong to no one. Not even Mummy and Dad.
Cherry pulled herself up with a jerk at this thought.
No, no! She must never allow herself to think this. She had hurt Dad that way before. The way to belong to Mummy and Dad was to make them belong to her, as somehow Peter had come to belong to her; because she had looked after him.
People you look after are yours. That was why she belonged, yes, she did belong, to Mr. and Mrs. Landin. She would look after them when they needed it, and then they would belong to her …
The voices were talking and laughing outside. She heard Peter’s squeal of delight. She guessed now who was out there. Hugh and Betty Denton had arrived. Perhaps they had been brought up from Yulinga by plane. They were finding their lost son.
Well, they’d all be happy now and they could all go home together. Stephen and Hugh and Betty and yes, Tracy. Tracy belonged too.
In a minute they would go away, and take Peter with them.
Cherry turned her face into the pillow, and put her hands over her ears.
That is why she did not hear the tap on the door.
The door was opened and first one, then several people, came into the room. Even Cherry with her head in the pillow was not deaf to such an invasion. She turned her head and looked across the room. The wife of the resident magistrate was just disappearing behind a whole huddle of people and that huddle consisted of Hugh Denton carrying Peter, and Betty Denton beside him. Standing inside the doorway leaning against the jamb was Stephen. He stayed there as his brother and Betty walked across the room to the bedside. Cherry wiped her eyes on the corner of the sheet because she couldn’t find her handkerchief.
Betty Denton sank down on the side of the bed, impetuously put her arms round Cherry and kissed her.
‘Hallo!’ Cherry said weakly when she could speak.
‘I just don’t know what to say …’ Betty was stammering.
Over the top of his wife’s head Hugh Denton was being generous with one of his rare smiles. It was Peter who said everything that had to be said. He turned in his father’s arms, saw Cherry, gave a shriek of delight and held out his arms. There was nothing for Hugh Denton to do but bend over and deliver his son up to Cherry.
She sat up in bed now, her tears forgotten and real excitement making her forget she was in someone else’s pink pyjamas and that a moment ago her eyes had been wet.
‘We … huh … we just don’t know how to thank you, Cherry,’ Hugh Denton was saying.
‘Me?’ said Cherry in surprise. ‘You have to thank Alan Donnelly. He landed us alive. And Stephen because he knew the jungle and was able to lead us out of it …’
Her eyes went beyond Peter in her arms to Stephen still leaning against the door jamb. He smiled lazily across the distance to her.
‘Two men in a jungle are no good with a baby without a woman around,’ he said.
‘You had Tracy,’ Cherry said, then bit her lip. It wasn’t fair to say that, and yet probably Stephen, man-like ‒ had not registered yet that Tracy had been useless where Peter was concerned. On the other hand, Tracy had been useful in the bush. Cherry must make amends.
‘Tracy was wonderful,’ she said earnestly to Betty and Hugh. ‘When the lightning struck she didn’t move a muscle. Just looked bored. And she wasn’t afraid of pythons …’
Stephen raised himself slowly from his leaning post. He came across the room and stood at the foot of the bed.
‘What were you afraid of?’ he asked quietly. ‘I didn’t hear you scream anytime.’
‘I did lots of times,’ Cherry said with her old spirit. Her head went up and her eyes challenged Stephen. ‘Every time you took the law into your own hands about Peter’s diet; and when you carried him instead of me carrying him. Only I did it silently.’
‘What were you afraid of? That I’d poison him? Or drop him?’
No, Cherry thought. I didn’t really. I knew he was taking care.
‘I was jealous,’ she said honestly. ‘I was as anxious as a hen with one chick.’
They all laughed.
‘We’re going to have a whole week in Timor Bay,’ Betty Denton said eagerly. ‘I’m going to have some treatment for my migraine and Peter is pronounced so healthy after his bush-whacking holiday he is to have his injections at once. Then we’re all going back to Yulinga. Cherry dear, we don’t want you to leave us ever.’
Hugh Denton bent over and took Peter back into his arms.
‘When you’re ready to get up we’re all going out to have a celebration dinner. Your hostess here tells me she thinks one of her daughter’s dresses will fit you.’
Stephen had taken out a cigarette.
‘Am I allowed to smoke in a lady’s boudoir?’ he asked.
Cherry nodded.
Talking about clothes, she wondered how Stephen came to be so immaculately dressed. Probably Betty Denton had brought clothes for him.
‘Will Tracy have something to wear?’ she asked.
‘Yes, one of my dresses,’ said Betty. ‘She won’t be pleased but it is better than coming in rags.’
‘Perhaps …’
Betty anticipated what Cherry had been going to say.
‘Perhaps Tracy could have the frock that was going to be lent to you, Cherry? Perhaps nothing,’ she said quite firmly. ‘Tracy always gets everything her way. To-night is your night.’
‘But not more than Tracy’s ‒’
‘Oh, yes it is. You’ll see why later.’
Betty Denton was on her feet now and she turned to her husband.
‘What time does that plane get in, Hugh?’
‘Anytime now,’ he said.
Another plane coming in. This sounded mysterious.
‘Who is it bringing this time?’ asked Cherry, puzzled. ‘You’re all here, aren’t you?’
‘We’re all here,’ said Betty, then hesitated. She sought for some excuse to put Cherry’s questions off. She brought the best one out with a flourish.
‘Alan Donnelly’s girl friend is being flown up from Adelaide. She comes in on an evening plane. He was around Timor Bay an hour ago trying to buy a ring.’
Betty said this with the delight and relish that all women feel when they produce a romance like a white rabbit out of the air.
‘Oh!’ Cherry said. Involuntarily her eyes went to Stephen standing at the foot of the bed. She blushed with confusion when she realised what Stephen was thinking for his eyes were watching her closely and there was an expressio
n of concern in them.
‘I’m so glad,’ she added weakly.
‘Come on, Betty,’ Hugh said, touching his wife’s arm. ‘We’d better leave Cherry enough time to get up and put on that glamour.’
They turned towards the door. Peter waved happily from his father’s arms. And Cherry waved back. Stephen did not move.
‘May I have another five minutes, Cherry?’ he said, then smiled. ‘I like you best in a pair of slacks with jungle moss for decoration, and a fringe that doesn’t quite stay in place. Hang the glamour.’
Hugh nodded from the doorway.
‘Don’t keep her too long, old man.’
‘I won’t,’ said Stephen without turning round.
He waited until the others had gone out then he walked round to the side of the bed and sat down on it. He shook the ash from his cigarette on to the small plate on the table beside Cherry’s bed.
Chapter Sixteen
Cherry leaned back against the pillows and pulled the sheet up under her chin. She was unaware of it, but all that showed was a slightly unruly cap of dark hair, a pale face with wide, dark blue eyes that were trying to hide their nervousness. If the eyes succeeded her mobile sensitive mouth did not.
‘I’m sorry about Alan,’ Stephen said gently.
‘Don’t be sorry about him,’ Cherry said quickly. ‘The nicest thing I’ve heard in the last twelve hours is that he is a hero and not a dud, and that now he’s going to get married. Maybe he had to turn out to be a hero for his girl friend to find out she really loved him. I hope she’s worth it.’
‘He certainly has a staunch and loyal friend in you,’ Stephen said, watching her eyes carefully. ‘It was only a flash in the pan then?’
‘What you’re trying to tell me is you think Alan and I had some kind of love affair in that camp. Well, we didn’t. We just got to know one another well. And like one another. At least I liked him.’
‘He liked you. He thought you were the gamest person ever.’
‘No more than Tracy.’
‘Let’s leave Tracy out of this.’
Cherry saw the sudden tightening of his mouth. There it was again, she thought. That clannishness. That sanctity of family ties. And maybe love too.
Perhaps there were going to be two engagements announced to-night. Maybe it had to be a plane-drop to prove to Tracy Stephen was a hero too ‒ like it was a plane-drop to prove to that other girl that Alan was a hero.
‘Has Tracy made up her mind what she is going to do with her future?’ Cherry asked, stubbornly keeping on with the subject. Anything to get it over, anything to stop Stephen being sorry for her because Alan was a lost cause and she, Cherry, would be the only girl around at that dinner to-night without a boy friend. With a stab of wry humour she told herself Peter would be in bed by that time.
Stephen flicked his ash into the plate again.
‘Oh yes,’ he said with a smile. His eyes were full of amusement now. ‘Tracy has always had her mind made up but she hasn’t always let others know it. She’s won her point now and even Hugh has given his blessing and approval. Hugh with his conservative outlook has been quite a stumbling block. But with the return of Peter he’s willing to give Tracy the world and as far as she is concerned all’s well that ends well.’
‘And you?’
Stephen raised his eyebrows.
‘Me?’ he said. ‘What else could I want but the best for Tracy, and every chance of happiness?’
‘Of course,’ said Cherry.
If only he would go now, so she could turn her head in her pillow and have one more little cry. At any rate she could at least get up and do her beastly hair. Oh, if only she’d been able to have it trimmed before they got lost in the jungle, instead of afterwards.
Why couldn’t we be plane-wrecked on the way home? her heart wailed to itself. Hair was an awfully important thing in matters of love. Men loved women whose hair was shining and groomed and properly cut, like Tracy’s.
‘I wanted to say something special to you, Cherry,’ Stephen said quietly. ‘I wanted to thank you for your great kindness to Peter and for the wonderful helpmate you were the whole time we were lost.’
Cherry closed her eyes.
‘Please don’t say anything,’ she said, embarrassed. ‘I didn’t do anything more than look after a little boy I love.’ She opened her eyes. She added rather sadly, ‘You know, I don’t think women can help doing things for their children. I mean they don’t do it on purpose or because they think it’s right. They just do it. Instinct, I suppose.’
Stephen stubbed out his cigarette.
‘I wanted very specially to thank you and I wanted to ask you something else. Don’t think I’m intruding, Cherry, but I feel now I have some right to see if there is anything I can do to add to your happiness.’ He paused. ‘You mentioned someone down south to whom you had given a promise to return in a year’s time. You heard what Hugh and Betty said about your returning to Yulinga. I too want to add my invitation. I would like you to feel Yulinga is your home. Is there any chance of your feeling that promise you made is no longer valid?’
Cherry crawled farther down in the bed. Unconsciously she had drawn the sheet a little higher and nothing showed now but her nose, her blue eyes and her cap of hair. She shook her head.
‘I have to go,’ she said.
Stephen sat silent on the side of the bed a moment. He seemed to be contemplating the toe of his boot.
‘If you have any choice in the matter,’ he said very slowly, and his eyes came away from the toe of his shoe and looked into Cherry’s eyes again, ‘I would like you to consider an alternative proposition.’
There was something so serious and intent in his manner that Cherry’s eyes widened and she lowered the sheet an inch.
‘I would be very honoured if you would consider becoming my wife,’ he said. Suddenly his face was creased with his smile, which, like his brother Hugh’s, was rare. ‘Then we could all live happily together ever after, including Peter.’
Cherry had the most extraordinary reaction to this proposal.
The sheet went down and she sat up.
‘Thank you very much, Mr. Denton. When I get married it will be for love. And I appreciate very much your feelings in rewarding me for loving Peter, with Peter’s company ever after.’ Dear heaven, I sound like a book, or the third speaker in a public debate. And I haven’t any feelings. Why haven’t I any feelings?
In truth she was stunned and said anything that came into her head.
And he didn’t expect her to accept, of course. But wouldn’t he look silly if she did? How would he explain it to Tracy? He knew, of course, she would decline and be happy to accept the offer as a meaningless compliment.
She decided to be very angry with him, but meantime finish off this small-time piece of formal acting with the politeness the occasion offered.
She held out her hand to him, a little high in the air, like a lady of high distinction who thought her hand just might be kissed.
‘Thank you very much for your compliment, and I decline, with due regard to the high honour, with regret.’
Stephen took her hand, drew it towards him as if he did indeed intend to kiss it, then suddenly jerked it forward so that Cherry was pulled into his arms. He kissed her abruptly on the mouth.
‘Little fool,’ he said. ‘You’ve got no one down there in the south who can give you what I can give you. And apart from all that I love you. You game little brat.’
He let her go, and she fell back, eyes wide with astonishment, on to the pillows.
He stood up.
‘I’m going to find out about this fellow down south,’ he said. ‘And if necessary fight a duel.’
Cherry had the sheet up under her nose again. Her voice was muffled.
‘How?’ she asked weakly.
‘How find out? Or how fight a duel?’
‘Both.’
He turned round, went towards the door, then changed his mind and walked back to the
bed. He pulled the sheet away from her mouth, leaned over her so that both hands, one on either side of her, rested on the bed. He kissed her again.
‘I’ll tell you to-night,’ he said. ‘After that plane’s come in.’
He straightened himself and went back to the door.
‘Get cracking, Genevieve,’ he said sternly. ‘That dinner is at eight. Your hair needs doing, you might care for a bath and somewhere someone’s got a dress of sorts that will fit your royal highness.’
He went out of the door and shut it behind him.
Cherry lay on the bed and stared at the door.
Was she waking? Was she dreaming?
Who was mad? Herself or Stephen? And what had the plane coming in got to do with pistols or swords?
It was a wonderful dinner.
They had it alfresco in the gardens of the luxury hotel. All around them was the tropical night, heavy with the scents of strange flowers and night-blossoming trees. Above them was the dark brooding bowl of heaven lit brilliantly with stars that outshone the myriad tiny lights around the garden. Out to sea two pearling luggers lay prow to stern, their lights like a line of glow-worms on the horizon. In the patio of the hotel behind them voices laughed, china clinked and recorded music floated faintly on the air.
The borrowed dress, an almond green silk, fitted Cherry beautifully and so did an extra pair of Betty Denton’s shoes that Betty had brought in her hand luggage.
‘I’m terribly sorry that in the excitement I forgot to bring any clothes for you and Tracy,’ she said. Stephen’s fine-looking tropical suit and shirt were actually his brother Hugh’s.
‘Selfish pair, aren’t we?’ grunted Hugh. ‘Can’t imagine why we didn’t think you wouldn’t bring your cases with you out of that jungle.’
‘I brought one thing with me,’ said Cherry.
She put her black and silver cosmetic case on the table.
‘When I left home in the Street of the Pines I meant to get glamorous, and I sort of, well I sort of … couldn’t part with it.’
Everyone laughed. The idea of putting eye-shadow on in the middle of the jungle was truly funny.
