The Reluctant Guest (17 page)

She nodded. “They never hurry about anything, or get flurried. Fern and Timothy are adorable.”

“Fern’s a bright wench. She’ll give some man the runaround one of these days.”

“Unless she settles for a career. Hyper-intelligent types often do.”

“They marry just the same, and neglect the old man.” Ann laughed. “I suppose they’re the sort who ought to marry airmen. They’d be too occupied to worry.”

“Have a heart,” he said, and the topic was dismissed.

He didn’t drive at Storr’s speed, and this part of the country was strange enough to make
him
slow down whenever he saw something of interest. He liked the Cape starlings, with their brilliant blue plumage and yellow eyes, and was fascinated by the tiny red-breasted honey-birds that sipped all the nectar they could find from the flowers by the wayside. When the car had climbed again to the veld he paused to look back over the vast greenness of the lower plateau.

“Exceedingly pleasant,” he said comfortably.

He was pleasant himself, thought Ann. Young and uninhibited, friendly and without all those angles that some men seem to grow even in their twenties. He didn’t bother to compete with people; he was himself, take it or leave it. He would never do anything world-shaking, but then the men who did were either one-track or as complex as ... well, they were complex.

Ann enjoyed that drive and was regretful when it ended, at the lane through the orchard. Neville himself was reluctant to return to his solitary splendour in the big house. “May I come in for supper with you tonight?” he asked.

“I think so, but I’d better let you know.”

“Or we could go down to the hotel for a meal.”

“I can’t leave Elva alone unless she wants it
.
I'll send you a message, Neville.”

“Good, let it be favorable.” He waved as she turned along the garden path, and the car moved away.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

ANN watched the car disappear and then she looked over the garden. Having had no lunch to prepare and clear up after, Aaron had put in a few hours on the lawn. It looked a little bald where the weeds had been, and tomorrow she would get him on rolling and clipping the edges. Maybe while Theo was away she could take on the house and keep Aaron outdoors. It would be good to get a few things planted in the big empty flower-bed, and perhaps she would find a
corner
for the rock-rose she had collected that other day, near the Wenhams’ farm. She knew, with certainty, that she would never take the plants home to Cape Town; she wouldn’t be able to bear a daily reminder of the half-hour she had spent so happily with Storr in the ravine, collecting them.

The old ranch wagon, she noticed, was parked in front of the shed, so Elva must be home. She walked up into the stoep, hesitated, and decided to go round to the back and straight to her own bedroom. Unthinkingly, as she passed the living room window, she glanced through it. Her heart seemed to leap straight up into her throat, but somehow she kept on moving, down the steps and round the house. At the back door she hesitated, but Aaron was not in the kitchen. It was clean and empty.

She closed the door behind her and stood there with a hand against the old-fashioned dresser, supporting herself and at the same time willing herself to forget that momentary picture; it wasn’t her business. Yet in a way she felt it was. Elva and the rugged, red-headed, good-featured Piet Mulder, tight in each other’s arms!

She put a hand to her neck, and the touch of her own warm fingers was reassuring. This had probably happened before, many times; the only difference was that this time she herself had seen it, and considered it important. But was it? She shook her head, not knowing.

With deliberation, she opened the kitchen door to the passage, and shifted a chair noisily. Then she walked into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar while the tap gushed and she washed her hands. Five minutes after entering the house she walked into the living room, to find Elva going through some accounts she had received this morning. She was alone.

The heavy blonde head lifted. “Well, did you have fun with that good-time pilot? I wouldn’t say he’s dangerous, is he?”

Not a sign that she had not been alone here for hours. Ann shrugged, but she was wondering where Piet Mulder had hidden his car or horse. “No, he’s just pleasant. It was a most enjoyable day. Been busy?”

“Until about three-thirty. Thanks for telling Aaron to bring the sandwiches.” Elva put the mail on the top of the bookcase. “When I was in town this morning I hooked an invitation to a braaivleis—for you and the Braithwaite man, too, if you’d care to go. I met Piet Mulder at the store.”

Quickly, to save her further untruths, Ann said, “I think I ought to tell you that I know Mr. Mulder was here when I got back. He may have kept his means of transport out of sight, but I saw you both—through the window.”

Elva straightened slowly, her face smooth and masklike. Her blue stare was insolent. “You saw him kissing me?”

Ann nodded. “Don’t think I’m trying to tell you how to behave. If you love him
...
”

Elva let out a sudden hard laugh. “Love Piet? You must be crazy
.
”

“He means nothing to you? Then why bring him here and let him make love to you? It’s indecent.”

“Don’t tell me how to behave! Piet’s a good sort and he’s helped me a lot. The way I reward him is my own affair. He’s satisfied.”

“But is he? From what I’ve heard of him he’s a very good man, simple and kind and hard-working. He wouldn’t kiss a woman unless he was in love with her.”

“I don’t think he would.”

“Then you know he is in love with you, don't you? How can you encourage
him
so far, if you’ve no feeling for him?”

“I like Piet,” Elva said consideringly. “He’s had a good education, he’s manly, and he’s the only one I’ve ever met who fell for me at sight, and remained that way. But I’m not going to marry him.”

“You like him, yet you’re being cruel to him. How can you!”

Elva took her time about lighting a cigarette, she let out a stream of smoke and said calmly, “Even if I explained you wouldn’t understand. I’ll tell you the bare facts. I couldn’t marry a poor man—ever. Piet has a model farm, a good house and increasing profits, but there are some men who never make more than a comfortable living; he’s one of them. For years, ever since I had to live in England with a grandmother who didn’t want me, I’ve been determined to climb out of poverty. I had hellish luck—till I
came
here with Theo. Even then a few things went wrong, but eventually they smoothed out. Piet was a help, and I knew Storr wouldn’t marry till he gave up regular flying. So I waited. And somehow I think my life is approaching its lucky climax. It’s about time.”

Ann shook her head, bewildered. “You’re so coldblooded about it Do you really mean you’d marry Storr and remain ... on those terms with Piet Mulder?”

‘What concern is it of yours? You’ll be with Theo, running a travel agency in Cape Town.”

“I’m not going to marry Theo!”

Ann
had burst out with it precipitately, without thinking, was appalled the moment it was said. Yet for the life of her she could add nothing more just then.

Elva’s head went back, slowly, as if all the implications of the announcement were filling her mind. Her blue eyes were strangely blank and yet merciless; her chin quivered, and it was her only indication of uncertainty.

“So you want me to be straight with Piet,” she said softly, “so that you can utilize your final week or so here to t
h
e best advantage Miss Demure is showing herself in her true co
l
ors—she’d like to be rich, too.”

“You’re wrong." Ann felt tired. “I didn't mean to come out with it like that, but it’s obvious that Theo and I aren’t indispensable to each other. He asked me to stay out the full month and I said I would. But the moment he returns I’ll tell him I can’t do it. I’ll leave, and you can work out your af
f
airs in your own way.”

Elva dropped, the smoking cigarette out of the window. For a minute she stood looking at the gilding day, and then, with her back to the room, she said placatingly, “I shouldn’t have accused you of wanting Storr. You do care for Theo and you know it. You didn’t turn him down when he asked you to marry him; I was there, you know. The trouble is you don’t like
me
.”

“
It isn’t that.”

“Yes, it is.” She was stubbornly convincing herself. “But don’t you see? We need hardly meet once you and Theo have a home in Cape Town. I’ll get Storr to do his best for you both, but we’ll keep out of each other’s way.”

Wearily, Ann reflected that Elva’s personality was more than dual—it was multifarious. One could never understand her. Now she was blandly ignoring Ann’s bald denial, presumably because she didn’t want to believe it
.
For some reason, the marriage would suit her book, and she refused to contemplate her plans with this detail missing. Her trouble, Ann knew intuitively, was that she had lived so long within herself, had designed her own future so realistically in her mind, that she was slightly unhinged about it
.

Ann had no idea how to cope. How could one handle a woman who was so unlike other women that she knew no laws but her own? There were three days to live through with Elva, and this was no way to begin them.

She sighed and said, “I didn’t want to row with you, Elva. The way you conduct your life is your own concern.”

But at this point Elva was inclined to be generous. “No, in a way you were right. I’ll keep Piet at his distance. I know I can trust you to say nothing to Storr.”

Ann
nodded. She was beginning to hope very fervently that Theo would return alone.

That evening Elva went off to bed instead of attending the outdoor party. Ann d
in
ed at the hotel with Neville Braithwaite, and when she left him, at about eleven, the next day was already planned. He would help her with the planting of the garden in the morning and they would drive through the hills in the afternoon, and find an evening meal somewhere.

Ann went to bed that night wondering if she had dreamed up that embrace between Piet and Elva in the living room. She would have liked to believe so.

T
he covering of the chairs was completed, the machine returned to Mrs. Newman. Nothing was said about alterations in the rest of the house, and in any case, Ann had no spirit for them. For a day or two she concentrated with Aaron on the small garden, dividing up the wild clumps of cannas and filling a small bed with them, trimming back the shrubs and trees, neatening the vegetable plot and dragging the long coarse grass from and old rockery. Neville was a willing additional assistant, but he confessed that he preferred the breaks, when one could sit in the stoep with a glass of something cold and look at the orchard and the mountains.

There was no telegram or telephone call from Johannesburg, but Neville declared that when Storr said three days he meant three days. That last evening, when they sat together in the dimly-lit stoep, Neville repeated his opinion.

“He’ll get here at about twelve tomorrow, and I’
ll
have to leave after lunch. By the way, the fact that Theo may have got through without a hitch doesn’t mean he’ll be reinstated with the Airways Company. I thought I’d better warn you.”

“The flight will help him mentally, anyway. I’m happy for him. He’ll feel
...
new.”

Neville sighed. “I wish I didn’t have to leave Groenkop so soon. I’ve never had this sort of lunch in the way of duty before.”

“Will you have to go tomorrow?”

“Straight after lunch, I expect. It’s devastating.”

Ann smiled and lay back. Work in the garden had tired her physically and rested her brain. She had given up worrying, or at least, the things she had worried about seemed to have slipped away into the distance for a while. Elva was bland and busy, and for recreation she was exer
c
ising Storr’s new horse. It was a highly-strung creature, but Elva seemed to have the touch it needed, or perhaps woman and beast responded to something they had in common. At the moment Elva was over there at the stables of the big house, massaging the horse’s legs and again drumming into the stable-boy the necessity for watching the animal day and night.

Neville finished his drink and squared himself. “I’d better go—in case there’s a telephone call.”

“If there should be anything that might interest me, will you let me know?”

“Sure, I will.” Standing up, he stretched and looked at the sky. “Lord, this is good. On
e
of these days I’ll get me a cottage in the country and a wife just like you.”

“When you get back to work you’ll repudiate that sentiment! But it’s been lovely having you here, Neville.”

“Thanks for the crumb of comfort. What about taking a last jaunt tomorrow morning? We’ll try horses again, and I’ll give you another laugh.”

“
You can’t be everything,” she replied generously. “Make it ten o’clock and I’ll have my chores finished.”

He moved down to the path, looked up at her and said, “Good night, Ann.”

She answered him, and settled back in her chair once more, smiling as she thought of Neville, who joyfully took a plane into the sky, but sat a horse like a block of lead.

As it happened, Ann did not go for the ride with him next morning. She rose at her usual time and went through to the living room to find Elva finishing her porridge. She took some toast and buttered it, peeled an apple and poured some coffee, and by that time Elva was almost through a plate of eggs and bacon. Apart from a vague, “Good morning,” neither had spoken when a car sounded outside, but then Elva stood up and glanced through the window. She used a napkin hastily, sat down again and relaxed as if completely unperturbed.

“They’re back,” she said.

With an odd, careful movement, Ann pushed her plate away. Her glance towards the door was as impersonal as she could make it. Storr came in, big and nonchalant; he smiled a studied smile.

“Good morning, girls. Surprised?”

“Of course,” said Elva. “You must have left the Transvaal in the dark this morning.”

He nodded. “Can you find me some breakfast?”

Elva was on her feet. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t wait to have it before seeing us! I’ll chivvy Aaron.”

She went out. Ann cleared half the table. She turned to a table drawer for clean cutlery and napkins asked evenly, “Is Theo with you?”

“No,” he said carelessly. “I left him up north.”

Her head lifted. “In Johannesburg?”

“That’s right. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

She placed knives and a fork. “What happened—exactly?”

“Exactly?” There was mocking deliberation in his voice. “Well, he flew the plane there, we had a couple of talks and finally decided that he should make some trips as co-pilot before we definitely put him back into commission for a trial period. Does that suit you?”

“It ... it doesn’t sound like you.”

“It was me, honey.” His tones had taken an edge. ‘There’s no pleasing you, is there? You want it all to happen your way. You’d have liked him to come back and tell you all about it, to take you down to Cape Town and give you a rip-roaring week before he took over his duties. Too bad he was anxious to get cracking.”

She shook her head. “You’re wrong. I couldn’t wish anything better for Theo. I just can’t believe he’d walk out on his sister like that.”

“I’ll see that Elva doesn’t need anything,” he said abruptly. “He knows that. In any case, she’s one of those women who can take admirable care of themselves.”

So Theo had told Storr nothing about his sister—nothing at all. Was it possible that he had felt there was still a chance of the marriage? Ann’s brain refused to go into the matter.

She said, “I’m really very pleased about Theo. Did he ... send any message?”

“Message?” His demeanour was sharp and unpleasant “He did give me a hurried not
e
for Elva, but he asked me to explain to you and to tell you he’d write more fully. He wants you to stay on with Elva as long as you can.”

“She doesn’t need me.”

“Maybe not, but it would be a nice gesture, wouldn’t it? After all, she’s done her best for you.”

Ann slipped him a fleeting glance. It was what he believed; she could see that. Elva might be masculine in some ways, but she definitely knew how to juggle with words and facts to her own advantage.

“I’ll talk it over with her later,” she said. “Excuse me?”

“Why not?” he said in hard tones. “We aren’t getting anywhere.”

She hesitated a moment, realized that within the last minute or so he had become inflexible as a steel wall, and lifted her shoulders. Without speaking, she went out and down to the path, walked past his car and along to the pasture. She called the chestnut and saddled him, mounted and turned the horse down the lane and across the veld.

Ann
never did remember the details of that morning very clearly. She thought about Theo, was delighted for him and hoped he was happy. She wondered how he would live and whether he would ever again make a home for his sister. Somehow she thought not; he had got away and he was hoping, desperately, that Storr would be the answer to the problem of Elva. Unless...

But Ann’s thought were too jumbled for sane reflection. She could only go on riding and gradually realize that there was nothing she could do. This was the end, and the sooner she left Belati the better.

She was out that morning for about three hours. As she made her way back to the Borlands’ house everything looked the same: somnolent and green close to the dwelling, and brown where the orchard was losing its leaves and the mealie stalks stood drying in the white sunshine. She unsaddled the chestnut and sent him into the pasture, walked slowly up the path to the house and into the living room, which was empty. She went through to the kitchen to find Aaron.

The African answered her questions with his usual wooden composure. The big master had stayed some time and then gone away in the car.

“I think he go to town, missus.”

“What about Miss Borland?”

He opened the old blue refuse bin and pointed to the fragments of a bowl which lay in the bottom. “The missus throw that at me. It hit the door.”

“Good heavens! Why did she do that?”

He shrugged. “She was mad with something—not me. When she gone I go to the other house. That stable-boy tell me the missus take the big master’s new horse and gallop away.”