Lauren's Dilemma (21 page)

“I
explained what happened, didn't I, darling? What about the horse?” Helen could
be as tenacious as a terrier sometimes.

“Work it
out between yourselves. I'll have a pipe in the smoking room while you two
ladies,” he over-emphasized the last word, “sort out your differences.”

As soon as
Blair left the room, Helen started on Laurie again.

“I'm riding
that horse, no matter what you say.”

“There are
other horses, Helen.” She tried to be reasonable.

“Other
horses! Broken down old hacks no one else wants to ride.”

“They're
not hacks. There's a nice, placid bay mare.”

“I mean to
ride that horse. Blair shouldn’t have given it to you; it should have been
mine. He's my fiancé. I'll be mistress of this house soon, and you'll be
leaving immediately.” Venom dripped from her voice now. “Try to stop me riding
that horse, you lying, conniving bitch, and you'll regret it.”

“Are you
threatening me?” Laurie's temper flared. “Touch my horse, and I'll slap your
face. I mean it, Helen. I'll slap your face until your ears ring.”

“Laurie!”
Blair's furious voice broke in on them.

“Oh,
Blair.” Helen collapsed into his arms sobbing. “Lauren threatened me. Did you
hear?”

“Don't
upset yourself, darling.” His eyes, cold and sharp as ice picks, practically
chopped Laurie in two. “Apologize at once.”

“Why should
I?
 
Did you hear what Helen said to me?”

“I suggest
you leave the room,” he said in a low savage voice. “I will not have such
vicious behavior in my home.”

Without a
word she left, vowing not to give either of them the satisfaction of seeing the
bitter tears springing to her eyes. Blair had taken Helen's part. It was only
natural he would believe everything she told him, considering how he worshipped
her.

After
getting ready for bed, Laurie lay there with tears coursing down her cheeks. It
was hours before she drifted into sleep. A tremendous clap of thunder woke her.
The wind shrieked outside and branches banged against her window.

She
listened to the ferocity of the storm, reflecting on all that had happened over
the last few weeks. Would Blair ever forgive her? How could Helen have
explained away her callous behavior towards him?

It came to
Laurie suddenly, a thought so dreadful it left her trembling in fear. She was
carrying Blair’s child. She shoved a fist in her mouth to stop the screams
escaping
  
There had been signs, symptoms
she had chosen to ignore over the last couple of weeks. The enormity of her
predicament, the shame and disgrace of having a baby out of wedlock, almost had
her sliding out of bed and rushing to tell Blair. She forced herself not to do
anything so foolish. What if she wasn't pregnant? He would really despise her,
then. Better to wait another few days, until she became absolutely certain.
“God, why are you doing these terrible things to me?”

A glance in
the mirror next morning showed a white-faced, hollow-eyed stranger staring back
at her. Listlessly, she washed and dressed before presenting herself for
breakfast.

Helen
sailed into the kitchen. She wore a smile tinged with malice. She waited until
Fergie left the room before saying quite pleasantly “You'll have to find
yourself another rich husband now. Blair and I have decided to get married as
soon as we can make the arrangements. You could always grab up Dick McKinlay.
He's a bit on the feminine side, but still, the two of you got on so well
together. His parents are quite wealthy.”

Laurie felt
her heart rise up in her throat before it plummeted to her stomach with a
sickening jolt. She would die before letting Helen know how terrible the hurt
was. Blair didn't even have the decency to tell me himself, she thought,
feeling even more wretched.

“Where’s
Blair?”

“Gone to
check on the damage outside. There was a frightful storm last night. I couldn't
sleep, so Blair and I had,” Helen hesitated, stretching like a satiated cat, “a
long chat about our relationship. If I were you, I'd start making arrangements
to leave here, to save him the embarrassment of asking you to go.” Helen gave a
poisonous smile.

* * *

“I might go
for a ride over to McKinlay's, Fergie,” Laurie told the housekeeper after Helen
left the room.

“Better
wait until Mr. Blair gets back.”

“Don't wait
lunch for me. The McKinlays will give me something, I'm sure.” She had already
changed into a split skirt with a heavy jacket over her blouse. She would take
Bolinda Vale over to Dick and then leave Coolibah forever.

“What will
Mr. Blair say?”

“He won't
mind. Why should he?”

Giving the
housekeeper a kiss on the cheek, she left the house, feeling about a hundred
years old. The wind had stopped now, and so had the rain. Poor Mr. Chong's
vegetable garden lay in ruins. She could see him in the distance, dashing from
plot to plot.

A giant
peppercorn tree had split asunder. A storage shed had been picked up and tossed
away like a discarded toy, the walls now little more than splintered rubble.
The homestead, like the stables, remained untouched. They had been built from
sandstone by Blair's pioneering forebears and were able to withstand the most
ferocious storms.

Bolinda
Vale whinnied a welcome to Laurie as she went to pat her neck. The filly
greedily nuzzled in Laurie’s coat pocket, which for once was empty. In her
anxiety she had forgotten the usual sugar lump.

“Sorry. I
forgot your little treat.”

They
cantered for a time, but as the ground became muddier, the filly dropped back
to a walk and carefully picked her way through the storm rubble. Limbs were
snapped off trees. In several places trees had been blown over completely,
leaving their roots protruding out of the ground.

When they
came to the creek, Laurie hesitated, as it was now a raging torrent. The water
swirled madly, murky and choked with debris. An inch or two of water washed
over the bridge. Dare she risk it? Yes, it seemed safe enough.

They
crossed slowly. She urged Bolinda Vale on with her heels. Halfway across, the
filly baulked and she had to dismount. “I can't use a switch on you, but please
come on.” She tugged at the reins while the animal snorted in disapproval.

The water
continued to rise as Laurie hesitated. It almost reached her knees now. Maybe
they should turn back. Her hesitation proved disastrous. A wall of water
descended upon them and swept away the bridge, carrying them with it. The reins
jerked out of her hand as Laurie stumbled and fell into the swirling water. Frantically
she tried to grab Bolinda Vale's tail, but the terrified horse instinctively
started swimming to shore.

She was
going to drown. A weak swimmer at the best of times, she grabbed desperately at
an overhanging branch as the torrent swept her downstream. Useless trying to
drag herself out of the water as the banks were too steep. All she could do was
hang onto the branch in the hope someone might come to her rescue.

Water
roared in her ears as she felt the undertow dragging her under. Her aching arms
felt like they were being twisted out of their sockets. Her only solace was
that as she got swept away she glimpsed Bolinda Vale struggling out of the
water.

It was
freezing. The wetness seeped right through to her bones and she felt as if she
wore lead shoes.

“God save
me, please.” Would he answer?
 
How many
others had cried out the same words on the blood-soaked beaches of Gallipoli or
in the trenches of France?
Eighteen was too young to die, yet Danny had been almost the same age, and God
hadn’t spared him.

“Help!
 
Somebody help me,” she screamed over and
over. Exhaustion started to set in, and a swirling black mist appeared before
her eyes. Why bother fighting, anyway? If she drowned, the shame and disgrace
of having Blair's baby out of wedlock would remain hidden.

From a
distance a voice called her back from the brink of death. “Hang on, Laurie.”
Her eyes opened and she spotted Dick.

Her numbed
hands started slipping from the branch, and it took her last reserve of
strength to grit her teeth and hang on. A branch struck Dick in the face,
flinging him into the water. Horrified, she watched his horse swimming away.

“Dick,” she
screamed. His arms came up and he started swimming. Her hands felt as though
they were being ripped to the bone, yet somehow she managed to hang on until he
came up level with her. He grabbed the branch and stood up, with the water
swirling level with his chest. As she started slipping into the creek, he
supported her with an arm about her waist.

“Come on,
we have to get out while I can still stand up. There's no way we can climb out
here. Some of the levee banks upstream have broken. We'll have to go with the
current until we find a spot where it isn't so steep.”

“Leave me,
Dick. Save yourself.”

“Hang on,
Laurie.” He braced himself as a huge wave broke over them, almost lifting him
off his feet. “We have to get out of here.”

Dear God,
the water was over her head. Without Dick's support, she would surely drown.
For one so finely built, he had exceptional strength. Maybe desperation gave it
to him.

They
eventually made it to the centre of the creek and swam with the current to
where the banks were much lower. By the time they had battled their way to a
point at which she could stand up in the eddying water, Laurie trembled with
cold and exhaustion.

“Come on,
not much farther,” he urged. With a reserve of strength dredged from somewhere
deep within, she struggled on, with Dick's arm clamped around her.

“Made it.”
He pulled her clear of the creek and flopped down on the grass. She was shivering,
her teeth chattering like castanets, but they rested for a moment before Dick
stood up.

“Come on,
I'll help you. If we stay here much longer, we're both dead. If you had to
nearly drown, you couldn't have picked a better place.” He gave a cracked laugh.
“There's an outrider’s hut close by. It's on Guy Webster's place, but he won't
mind if we use it.”

With Dick
half-carrying, half-dragging her, they managed to struggle to an old split-log
hut. He stood her up while he fumbled with the wooden door latch. Inside, it
was dry, if musty smelling, and from the elements outside it was a haven.

“These
places are always kept stocked up with emergency rations. We'll have a fire
going in a little while,” he reassured, as he fumbled around in the
semi-darkness. Within a few minutes a fire blazed in the little stone hearth.

She
shivered uncontrollably now. Staggering over to the fire, she held her
trembling hands towards the flames, trying to infuse some warmth into her
frozen limbs.

“Right.
We'll have to dry our clothes. Take this blanket.” He thrust it into her
hand.
 
“It smells a bit musty but at
least it's dry.”

As she
stood staring at him, embarrassed heat surged into her cheeks.

He gave a
strained grin. “I'll collect some more firewood, in case it starts raining
again. You change while I'm out. Wrap yourself in the blanket, and then we can
try to dry your clothes out.”

She waited
until he had sloshed out the door before stripping off her sodden skirt. There
were only two choices, keep her underclothes on and risk pneumonia, or take
them off to be dried out. She stripped everything off and wrapped herself in
the brown blanket. Its rough texture grazed her bare skin. Shivering, she drew
it more tightly around her body.

A sharp rap
on the door broke the silence. “Is it all right for me to come in?”

“Yes.” The
door swung open, letting in a blast of icy air.

“It's
bloody freezing outside.” Dick kicked the door shut with one foot and dropped
some logs on the hearth. “This should keep us warm tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes. We'll
have to stay here until morning.
 
It
would be madness trying to walk back to Coolibah, or even my place. There
should be some flour and salt here, so we won't starve.”

He peeled
off his clothes, until he was stripped to his pants. How slim and feminine he
looked. He removed his leggings, followed by his boots and socks. “Don't worry,
I'll keep my pants on for a while.” He gave a rueful laugh. Draping his shirt
near the fire, he then reached for her clothes, hanging them on a piece of rope
stretched across the fireplace.

Gazing at
their steaming clothes, Dick joked, “Looks like a Chinese laundry.”

Laurie
hugged the blanket close to her body, feeling physically much warmer. It was
only her heart that remained frozen. Dick’s face took on a pinched whiteness.
As he lifted the billycan for their tea, his hands trembled.

They drank
the scalding liquid black, without sugar, from tin mugs, while waiting for
their damper to cook.