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Authors: Kathryn Blair

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BOOK: The Man at Mulera
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Back in her bedroom she met a curious but heart-warming
sight.
A small boy whose hair was straight and fair and whose nose had a familiar tilt at
the
tip was lolling
against
the end of her bed. He wore crumpled pyjamas but there was a smear of marmalade on his chin and a few crumbs in his eyebrows. His expression was grave and interested.

Lou resisted an impulse to fold him tightly in her arms, but she did drop down to his level and touch her lips to his temple.


Hallo, Keith,

she said.

I

m Lou.

He nodded.

Uncle Ross told me to find you. You

re my cousin.


Almost your auntie.


Uncle Ross says you

re my cousin. Don

t you want breakfast?


Of course.

She stood up, determinedly casual. Have you had yours?


Yes, we always have it together, then Uncle Ross goes out.


Has he gone now?


Just this minute.

His blue eyes weren

t impish, as Lou had hoped. They stared intently.

We

ve got your picture at home.


I

ve got pictures of you, too,

she said brightly.

What about getting dressed? Can you manage alone?

He regarded her pityingly.

I

ve dressed myself since I was little,

he said.

Haven

t you?


Yes, I think so. Run along and get started and I will too. First one ready gets first bite.

He was almost out of the door when he stopped and asked,

Bite what?


A bar of chocolate for elevenses!

He disappeared. Lou found herself quivering just a little, and her fingers fumbled as she slipped into one of the frocks she had made for the summer vacation in England. The cotton felt heavy and thick, the colors looked muted against the strong light which percolated into the room. The atmosphere was already burdened, and the foliage out in the garden looked lush and dark. As she used lipstick she could smell the flowers she had noticed last night in the darkness. Gardenias, she thought, or perhaps some exotic blossom she had never heard of.

It was good to know the man was out of the house. She opened the bed wide, pegged the window at its fullest, found a handkerchief and went into the corridor. Keith sat outside his own room like a small oriental who had petrified with waiting.


I won!

he exclaimed as he rose.

You have to tell Ali what you want for breakfast.

But Lou was in no hurry. She followed Keith into the veranda, stood stock still for a timeless moment and then let out a breath of pure wonder.

The garden sloped away, emerald lawn edged with gravel paths, masses of flowers to left and right of it and a plumbago hedge which was covered with blue blossom closing it off from coffee trees which were dark-leaved and splodged with red pods. The garden was luxuriantly beautiful, but its backcloth held all the glory and mystery of purple and lilac mountains and green forests, of rich blue sky and misty distances.

With the inconsequential nonchalance of childhood, Keith left her. She watched him pause on the lawn and resisted an urge to persuade him out of the sun. Then he wandered along a path and out of sight. Lou sat beside the table, turned to find a white-clad servant standing almost at her elbow. He was not the servant of last night; his features, though black, had an Indian cast, and he looked experienced and intelligent.


I am Ali, madam,

he said, and she recognized the high-pitched tones.

You will order for breakfast, please?


May I have it out here?


Certainly madam.


Just toast and coffee, please, and some fruit juice if you have it
.

When it came she ate slowly, drank all the juice and a cup of coffee. A small black boy appeared below the veranda, blinked a lovely white smile at Lou and began to pull a weed every five minutes; in the intervals he simply squatted in the sun and let the heat soak into him. Very odd, thought Lou. Later, she learned that every plantation
had its swarm of totos who insisted on earning a
shilling
or two each week.

The atmosphere was so narcotic that it took an effort of will to stand up and walk back to the bedroom. Lou made the bed and tidied, felt her frock sticking to her back but decided the sensation was not unpleasant. Actually, perspiring made one feel cooler.

She packed away the things she had used, remembered Dorothy

s Will and decided that since it was something that must be done she should read it without further delay. She took it outside into the veranda, sat down and straightened the folded sheets, then plunged into the legal jargon.

An estate car slid round the drive and Ross Gilmore emerged from it with long-limbed carelessness. This morning he wore khaki shorts and a bush shirt which had short sleeves above the muscular forearms. His dark brown hair glinted in the sunshine. He took the three veranda steps in one go, shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down at her with just the sardonic smile she had expected.


Good morning,

he said.

Sleep well?


Amazingly well, th
ank
you.


Our big rains ended late this year. You

ll need to use a mosquito net for at least a month.

She pinked, but smiled.

I woke up feeling as if I

d been captured by a man-sized spider!


That

s almost possible, out here.

He nodded at the papers in her lap.

Read it yet?


I was just beginning to. Apart from the phrasing it seems clear-cut. Everything is to be sold and the money used for Keith.


Read the third page,

he said.

First paragraph.

She did, twice. Then, her grey eyes bright and alarmed, she looked up at him. But he did not allow her to speak first. He held up a hand, lowered himself negligently to the veranda wall and lifted his shoulders.


It

s quite simple. Dick and Dorothy liked this country and they wanted Keith to grow up here. Dorothy was mostly good fun but she did have a sombre streak—that was what led her to make a Will and persuade Dick to do the same, though they were only in their thirties.
I didn

t know it, but one of her pet worries was that Keith
might
some day be left without parents.


I
think
I knew it,

said Lou.


You did? Then you should understand the rest of it Keith had to be provided with both a man and a woman in his life. You were the obvious choice for the woman
...
and odd as it may seem to you, I was the obvious choice for the man. According to both Wills, we have to share the job of raising Keith.


But
...
how can we? I don

t live here
...


And I don

t live in England,

he nodded comprehendingly.

But it

s not so difficult. I can

t shift the plantation but you haven

t much to keep you in England. I

ve been thinking
...

She stood up suddenly.

I don

t want to know, Mr. Gilmore! I

m quite sure Dorothy meant me to take care of Keith. You

re a man, and a bachelor at that What can you know about children?


They

re not so complicated,

he said lazily.

Sit down again and forget the fireworks. Or do you have a reason for them?

She slipped back slowly into the wicker chair.

A reason?

He gestured.

Is there someone in England you can

t leave?


No. Not exactly.


That sounds like a spot of feminine evasion. Interested in a man over there?


Do you have to be so blunt? My private affairs aren

t your concern!


So there is someone. Are you engaged?


No, I

ve only friends.

By now, Lou was so vexed that she had to grip the arms of the chair to keep herself seated.

I don

t understand you at all. You

re typically the confirmed bachelor
...


Am
I
?

he put in interestedly.

I didn

t know that.


...
and you can

t possibly want to be saddled with
a
child. You haven

t the least idea of how children should be trained and cared for, and
I

m perfectly certain that if he were to stay with you for long Keith would become a little savage. You let him eat breakfast with you at some unearthly hour in his pyjamas, and at this moment you don

t care where he is!

He waved an indolent hand.

He

s around.

Then he leaned forward and gazed at her with a hard kind of mockery in his eyes that made them look very green.

Keith

s missed his parents, so I

ve let him do novel things to keep him happy. I

m not so sure as most people are that a boy needs a woman. I believe in toughening youngsters from an early age and making them enjoy the things they

ll have to live with. But I

m afraid that for better or worse, in the matter of Keith we

re partners for a while.


For a while?

she said with a swift hope.


If you

d read those papers thoroughly you

d know what I

m talking about. The first one of us to mar
r
y will have the right to take Keith over completely—with the other

s consent.


With the other

s consent?

she echoed.


That means,

he obligingly explained,

that if you marry first and I don

t like your husband I can object to his taking my place with Keith. The same goes for you, if I hitch up first
.
It

s quite straightforward.

For almost a minute Lou sat there, half-stunned. If she had thought much about the future with Keith it was to picture him living with her in the private rooms of the kindergarten and learning in her class. Vaguely, she had hoped there would be enough money to buy an insurance policy for his further education, but beyond that everything had been hazy and unimportant. Now, though, things were becoming clarified—to
o
much so. This man with the enigmatic chin and hard jaw was one of those creatures who wouldn

t know defeat or failure if they saw it
.

I

m related to Keith,

she said.

I have rights where he

s concerned.


I

ve known the child all his short life,

he reminded her quietly.

Dick was my manager—a darned good one and both he and Dorothy were my friends. They

re irreplaceable. For your information, unless you marry someone who has similar ideas to my own regarding the child

s upbringing, I intend to remain the boy

s guardian till he

s no longer in need of one.

He let some seconds elapse before adding;

I

ve made plans. Want to hear them?

BOOK: The Man at Mulera
9.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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