Island of escape (17 page)

Ellis prayed that this week he would continue to treat her as the cook and nothing else. She didn't want him to be tempted again to force her to surrender, because he might succeed.

In the morning, he wasn't at breakfast, and Charlie said he'd gone to Whitemark to pick up more provisions for the men. There was enough bread in the freezer for morning lunch, and Ellis was trying to start up the old bomb when his car came up the drive.

He got out of his car and watched her futile efforts for a moment, then came across to her.

`Move over,' he said briefly. 'There's a knack in starting this thing. I'll show you.'

Ellis moved over and though she watched while he demonstrated, she didn't really take in what he was telling her. She found she was too disturbed by his nearness. Finally he left the motor running and turned towards her, his eyes probing.

`Why didn't you tell me about Jake Armour before?' he asked unexpectedly.

She shrugged. 'What was the point? I told you from the start he was an old family friend and you made fun of that.'

`Because of what I'd seen with my own eyes. Any man would think what I did when he saw a girl like you accepting lavish gifts from an older and decidedly susceptible male. I still think he's in love with you, and you can't have forgotten you told me you didn't want to—live with him.'

`As his daughter,' she told him with a little spurt of anger. 'He's marrying again, if you want to know, and I'd be in the way. You have a—a foul mind ! '

`All men who are men have foul minds,' he said imperturbably, `so I won't pretend I haven't. What have you written home about me, by the way? Have you

been making Paul jealous?'

Ellis flinched. `I—I haven't written home at all,' she said jerkily.

His eyebrows rose. 'But you're making sure something gets back—via Martin Webster. Is that it?'

`No, it's not,' she retorted. 'And now would you please let me go—or morning lunch will be late and you'll be attacking me for—for breaking union rules.'

Steve got out of the car and slammed the door shut. `I'll see you in the shed.'

If anything he was more impersonal than ever that week. Ellis worked hard and well, and seeing the mob of unshorn sheep diminishing, and the great bales of wool being loaded on to trucks from the landing platform in the shed, she became acutely aware that shearing was near completion. Steve had said no more to her about going back to Melbourne after the cut out. They would 'take stock' later, she supposed, and she lay awake at night, exhausted though she was, debating with herself as to what she was going to do, and unable to come to any real conclusion.

Charlie heard from Leanne during the week, but she didn't say when she would be back.

`I suppose you'll see about getting a housekeeper after the cut out,' she heard him ask Steve one night as she brought in the coffee at the end of the meal.

Steve glanced at her as he answered, his eyes enigmatic. 'I'm making no plans to go to Tasmania at the moment. I have other more pressing things to see to right here.' Ellis felt herself colouring, then felt a fool as he added, 'I want to get those wethers we've tagged cut out and trucked to Lady Barron ... Now if you'll both excuse me, I'm going to do some telephoning. We might as well celebrate the cut out, if nothing else.'

He took his coffee and disappeared, and Charlie said

with a frown, `Steve's in
a bad mood—something's bugging
him.'

I am, Ellis thought, but she asked him, 'What did he mean about celebrating?'

`Oh, we have a bit of a do when shearing cuts out—the men like it and it's an excuse for everyone who wants to to get together and have a good time and exchange news and gossip. The word soon gets around —I wouldn't be surprised if your cousin Martin turns up.'

Ellis hoped he would. She badly wanted to know what was happening in Melbourne, and whether or not Jan and Paul were engaged. But it wasn't because she cared in the slightest about Paul: She had recovered from him with a completeness and a painlessness that was positively stupefying. It was only that—if there were no engagement, she'd begin to wonder if Jan would come back to Flinders ...

The last sheep was shorn by five o'clock on Friday.

Steve had gone in to Whitemark after midday, returning with a couple of kegs of beer, lashings of bread, butter, and cheese, and a box full of salad vegetables. Charlie had killed a sheep on Wednesday and cut up half of it in the meathouse on Friday morning, so everything was well under way.

`You needn't concern yourself with this party, Ellis,' Steve told her as he dumped everything in the kitchen of the old homestead. 'It's not going to be your sort of entertainment—there'll probably only be one or two women along, and I doubt if anyone will be convinced you're part of the shearing team.'

Ellis flushed. `I'd still like to have a look. Is Martin coming?'

`I wouldn't know. Why? Do you particularly want to see him?'

`Yes,' she said briefly. They looked at each other, then Ellis turned away. She was cleaning up for the last time. There were no more meals to prepare for the shearers. She felt a great mindless longing deep inside her. Steve hadn't touched her all the week, they had scarcely exchanged a word, he'd never come to her

room

`What's the attraction?' Steve asked, and she pulled herself up sharply and said quickly, 'I want to hear news from home, that's all.'

`You might let me hear what it is too,' he said dryly, `seeing I'm an interested party.'

What that meant she was not quite sure, and she didn't ask.

The celebration was to be held in the shearing shed, and when her work was finished Ellis went back to the main homestead where she showered and then lay down on her bed to rest for a few minutes before she dressed. There was nothing for her to do tonight, no dinner to prepare. Steve and Charlie would be eating barbecued lamb over at the shearing shed, and so would she, and she hoped that Martin would be there too. Crazily, she longed to hear that Jan and Paul had announced their engagement. If someone had told her just, a few weeks ago that she would welcome such news, sir would never have believed it.

She fell asleep in the midst of her thoughts and when she woke a great golden moon had risen in a sky that had darkened to indigo. It looked so romantic and lovely floating above the trees that she could see from her bedroom window that her heart ached, and for a while she lay full of longing and confusion, aware that she had been dreaming of Steve and his kisses. Was he waiting for her to tell him she was leaving now the shearing was over? She didn't think he really cared

whether she stayed or went; one woman was the same as another to him, so long as she did things his way. If Jan came back—if Jan gave in—that would satisfy him. He'd have a woman in his bed. He wouldn't miss Ellis. He didn't care for anyone.

Slipping her feet to the floor, she smiled wryly to herself. Anyone aware of her thoughts would think she disliked the man. Yet the very thought of him was enough to make her blood run quicker, and all sorts of unutterable desires flood her being.

She dressed in black pants and a silky black top with long sleeves that came in to a cuff. Ordinarily, she'd have worn something to dress it up, but on this occasion she decided it was better to forget about jewellery, and to look inconspicuous. As she left her room she felt decidedly nervous. There were going to be a lot of people in the shearing shed—a lot of men. What were they going to think about her? This was where it would have made all the difference in the world to be Steve's wife, or even his fiancée, and for a moment she was tempted to go back and slip the emerald ring on to her finger. Yet she couldn't make herself do it.

Oh damn, she thought despairingly. People would have to think what they liked. She had to see Martin —she only hoped he would be there.

OUTSIDE, she found she couldn't start the motor of the old car. Nothing would get the thing going. She didn't wonder that Leanne complained, and she couldn't think why Steve didn't provide her with something more roadworthy. It was all very well to criticise Leanne for not wanting to live at Warrianda, but he didn't do much to make it more attractive.

At last, since Charlie and Steve had been over at the shed for hours and it was obvious no one was coming back for her, she decided to walk. It was a good two kilometres and already it was dark. She found a torch and tried not to think about snakes. Steve had killed a tiger snake in the garden only a couple of nights ago, and she had often seen one—a tiger or a whipsnake or a copperhead—wriggling across the road when she was in the car. The track shone white in the moonlight, but the darkness of the scrub on either side worried her. She wasn't afraid of being molested—Mike, the woolclasser, had said there wasn't a safer place in the world than Flinders as far as people were concerned. Mothers could feel quite comfortable in their minds about their children, wherever they went on the island.

But there's someone I'm afraid of,' Ellis thought as she walked steadily on along the road. While Steve Gascoyne was about, she didn't feel safe ...

The shearing shed was ablaze with lights. They'd be quite a tax on the generator, she caught herself thinking. She could smell the wool, and she could see the truck loaded with the last bales standing outside the

loading platform. It was an ordeal to walk up the steps alone and into the shearing shed, and the unshaded lights dazzled her for a moment. There was a savoury smell of barbecued meat and, mingled with that, cigarette smoke and beer. The shed was full of men—she could see only a very few women, all of them older than she was, all of them looking very much at home amongst these tough country men. Ellis, unnoticed, shrank back in the shadows beyond the sorting bins, and wished she'd stayed at home. Behind the shearing stands a barbecue had been set up and Steve, looking very genial, was presiding over it. He hadn't seen her and she didn't want him to. The slatted classing table had been covered with a red and white checked cloth and two efficient-looking women were busily buttering slices of bread and piling them up on a huge china carving dish that she recognised as coming from the old homestead. Big brawny-looking men stood about drinking beer from glass mugs and talking volubly, while a few children, probably the shearers', scampered about drinking Coke and playing with the dogs.

Someone took Ellis by the arm and she jumped.

It was Martin—and she exclaimed in relief, 'Oh, Martin ! How marvellous to see you! I was so hoping you'd be here—it's the only reason I came.'

`Ellis ! ' He was looking at her oddly. 'You're as white as a ghost! Have you been working too hard?'

Ellis couldn't tell him she'd lost her heart to a heartless man—and done what he'd warned her not to do, and she told him laughingly, 'Of course not. It's just that the damned car they let me use wouldn't work, and I had to walk over from the homestead. And I'm hungry. I've had nothing to eat—since breakfast,' she finished, remembering.

`Let me get you something,' he said at once. 'Come

along—they're nice people even if they do look rough, you don't have to feel shy.'

Ellis braced herself, but with Martin as an escort, everything was different. She didn't mind in the least if it was assumed she was his girlfriend, and of course it was. Jokes were made, suggestive questions asked as they made their way through the crowd and he introduced her to men he knew, and when he would have explained that she was his cousin, she pressed his arm and murmured, 'Don't worry, Martin—I don't mind.' Secretly, she was relieved. It explained her presence here if explanations were needed.

When they reached the barbecue, Steve frowned as she held out the plate she'd collected.

`You've taken your time coming. I thought you'd heeded my warning and decided to stay home.'

`I wanted
to see Martin,' she retorted. B
ut I couldn't get the car to start, and I had to walk.'

He picked up a juicy-looking chop between tongs and put it on her plate. 'I'd have been over in half an hour to check up on you.' He dished out some meat for Martin, then turned away to speak to someone else, and Ellis and Martin moved away to get some bread and butter.

`I get the idea Steve Gascoyne can't stand the sight of me,' Martin remarked cheerfully. 'Must be something to do with Jan. That girl must be off her brain to have returned his ring. As a matter of fact, she's pretty obviously having second thoughts.'

Ellis's heart lurched alarmingly, but right then she had to smile at the women presiding over the piles of bread and butter and listen with half an ear to some remark about Martin being a lucky young man. Word seemed to have got around pretty quickly that she belonged to Martin.

It wasn't till a few minutes later, when they had found a place to sit on one of the wool bales, that she was able to ask' Martin the question that was burning a hole in her mind.

`What did you mean about Jan having second thoughts, Martin?'

`I had a letter from her—which is unusual to begin with. She's going to fly over here before I leave, and as I can't believe it's out of sisterly affection for me, I conclude she's weighed up the attractions of Paul Howard against those of Steve Gascoyne to the latter's advantage. In fact, I rather think she wants her ring back.'