Authors: Jane Corrie
`You ought to be able to manage something simple like this,' he commented, as the strains of a haunting waltz filled the room.
`I wouldn't bet on it,' said Sarah. 'Couldn't we just listen to the music?' she asked. 'It's not really the weather for dancing, is it? You might be used to the heat, but I'm not,' she added for good measure.
`Scared?' Sean said softly.
`Of course not!' she replied angrily. 'Why should I be? I can't dance, and that's all there is to it,' she added crossly, as she sat down on the easy chair. 'It's not my fault you're not going on leave. It was your idea to keep me here. You could have gone to some night club this evening and had as many dances as you wanted,' she tacked on unwisely, too incensed to see the danger signals in his eyes.
`It's not too bad here, is it?' he asked silkily. `Better than the treatment you would have received if I'd turned you in to the authorities.'
`And we both know why you didn't, don't we?' Sarah said bitterly. 'For the same reason you made me a security risk. Just to satisfy a personal grudge!'
`And to have a little company. You've forgotten that, haven't you?' he reminded her hatefully. 'As you rightly put it, I'm now on
leave, and wish to enjoy myself. Right now I want to dance with you.' He suited the action to the words and pulled her out of the chair, and placing one arm around her slim waist and grasping her hand in his, said, 'It's easy when you know how. I'll teach you.'
Sarah was torn between laughter and tears, as she found herself being told to listen to the beat of the music, and was made to follow his steps across a floor space that was totally inadequate for dancing, and just when she thought she'd got the hang of it, she would miss a step and cannon into him.
`You're being deliberately dense!' he snapped angrily, the second time it happened. 'Wherever your brains are, they certainly don't reach your feet. It's so damn simple a child could do it!' he fumed at her.
Stung by this totally uncalled for remark, Sarah wrenched herself away from him. 'I told you I couldn't dance,' she said angrily. 'Perhaps you'll believe me now. As for being dense, what else do you expect? I'm cooped up here, typing those rotten figures all day. Seeing no one, apart from Sandy,' her breath came in gulps, as she struggled for composure, 'and if she hadn't found me some paperbacks to read in the evenings, I think I would have started talking to myself.' She swallowed. She wasn't going to break down now in front of him. She must have given him a lot of satisfaction already, seeing her in this state. F-find yourself another partner!' she got out, before she headed for the door.
She didn't make it, for Sean was there before
her, and grasping her arm in a hold that made her wince, he said softly, 'Why should I? I've already got one. The trouble with you is that you like your own way. Well, so do I. We dance, and this time you really try. I know you're missing the high life—well, exercise is good for tension. Let yourself go,' he commanded.
Sarah was past arguing with him. She was past a lot of things, particularly attempting to dance, and she stood stock still.
Sean yanked her into position, but she flung his hand away when he attempted to hold hers. The next minute she was in his arms, and he was kissing her with a ferocity that frightened her.
As abruptly as he had taken her in his arms, he released her, almost throwing her away from him. `Now see what you've done!' he shouted at her, drawing his hand across his mouth in a gesture that suggested he was contaminated by her. 'Get the hell out of here before I lose all sense of proportion! It was what you were leading up to, wasn't it? I guess you're missing more than just company. Well, it so happens that I'm fussy. Now get!'
Sarah's head was high as she left. She had never hated anyone as much as she hated Sean Cartier at that moment.
If anyone had been working up to anything, he had. It was the sole reason he had insisted on dancing with her.
When she got back to her room, she leaned back against the closed door and let the tears spill over. His hateful remark about her missing more than company also applied to him rather than
her. By all accounts he was no monk, and as he considered himself on leave, he'd probably got it all worked out. A few dreamy dances, and more than likely a few drinks in store as well.
She sighed raggedly. It hadn't worked. It was small wonder that he took it out on her, and would continue to do so, she thought miserably.
It couldn't go on, she told herself. Not now. She couldn't trust him. His instincts were male and predatory. He wouldn't give up. She had sensed the hunter in him, and he was out for the kill.
Sarah felt utterly weary. She didn't stand a chance. Sooner or later— With mechanical actions, she carried out the evening chores she had had to adopt since her enforced stay at the site, and washed out her undies and cotton top. The only good thing that could be said about the heat was that the clothes dried quickly. Later, it would be considerably cooler, for the temperatures were those of the sub-tropics.
When she had finished, she was ready for bed. How long was it to go on? she wondered, as she lay wide-eyed in her bed, her body weary, but her brain still active.
She wasn't even sure what day it was, but she was vaguely aware that it was near the end of the month. All the days had rolled into one since the rush had started to get as up to date as possible before the site closed down. There were no such things as weekend breaks. There hadn't been for Sean Cartier, and so the same went for her.
Sarah didn't know what she would have done with a break anyway. At least she had something
to do during the daytime, and had even got used to Sean stamping in at odd times of the day, as if she could somehow vanish out of sight.
Not for the want of trying, she thought unhappily. It was just that the cards were stacked against her. There had been a slim chance, she thought, as she recalled the Park van, but Sean Cartier's threats had discouraged any attempt at escape, as he had known it would.
She turned restlessly. He was right when he had said things hadn't been too bad for her. Apart from the fact that she had lost her freedom, for the time being anyway, until news of the find was allowed out, she hadn't had a lot to complain about, only the loneliness.
She was still in one piece, but only just, and the thought of having to go over to his quarters the next evening was unendurable.
As far as she was concerned the volcano had erupted, and she would have to spend each evening dodging the sparks from the inferno.
Anything would be better than that, she thought. He hated her enough now, but if anything should happen, he would hate himself as well. She shivered. No matter what, she wasn't going to let that happen. It would be worth the risk of being picked up by the authorities; at least she would be out of his vicinity.
She sat up suddenly. The coaches, she thought. She had seen two in the square that day. Would there be more? and if so, what were the chances of her stowing herself aboard?
Recalling the wolf whistles, Sarah shook her head. She couldn't ask for a lift without saying
why she had to get out. There was so much security there that each man's pass would be checked.
Her mind went back to the Park van. Would he still be delivering the fruit? There was a small chance that he would, for the decision to close down appeared to have been a quick one, going perhaps on the weather forecast.
Sarah scrambled out of bed and finding her shoulder bag hunted in it for her diary. Then she counted the days from the day she had known the date, when she had typed a letter for Sean. It was Thursday tomorrow! She recounted to make sure, but it came out the same.
Come hell or high water, she was going to be hanging around the canteen from early afternoon onwards. If the Park van did come, she intended to leave in it.
Surely this time her luck would change, and things would go right for her. It wasn't as if she was guilty of the crime she was being made to pay for. If there was any justice in the world, she would get away.
The first thing Sarah did the next morning was to pack her silk suit and all her belongings into her overnight case, ready to be picked up at a moment's notice, and stuff it under the bed, remembering that Sandy would bring her breakfast over later; then recalled that Sandy had gone yesterday.
In that case, Sarah told herself, she would go over to the canteen to save Mrs Pullman lugging her breakfast over. It would serve as a good excuse for her to find out if the Park van was
expected to call, and if so, at what time. It would be easier for Sarah if she knew precisely what time it would be there, but she had to be careful not to arouse Mrs Pullman's suspicions.
She went over to the canteen early. It was strange to hear no other sounds of human industry. Like a ghost town, she thought, as she entered the canteen kitchen to find Mrs Pullman just sitting down to her breakfast.
At the sight of Sarah, she frowned. 'Thought you'd have gone with Mr Cartier,' she said.
Sarah blinked, but her heart leapt joyfully. `Has he gone?' she asked.
Mrs Pullman gave her an old-fashioned look, that told Sarah that she had been perfectly right when she had suspected that Mrs Pullman was of the opinion that Sarah was chasing Sean Cartier, who it appeared had got away from her clutches. Her look said that she had seen it all before, and that no self-respecting young lady ought to throw herself at a man like that. In her opinion, Sarah had got her come-uppance; men didn't respect girls like that.
Sarah tried to look abashed, but it was difficult, for she felt as if a great weight had been taken off her shoulders. 'Where's he gone, do you know?' she asked Mrs Pullman, who had got up to get her breakfast, but Sarah motioned her to sit down again. 'Finish your breakfast. I can get mine. I only want toast,' she insisted.
Slightly mollified, Mrs Pullman did as she was bid, and poured her out a cup of tea. 'Darwin,' she said. 'Left on the last coach, early this morning. Didn't say anything about you still
being here. I'm due off myself around four,' she said, savouring the thought of time off, then she suddenly recollected Sarah's presence. 'There's plenty of stuff in the freezer, for a week or two at least. I hadn't banked on the site closing down so early, there must have been a bad forecast,' she said musingly.
`What about the maintenance staff?' asked Sarah, wondering if that was another job that Sean had in mind for her, cooking for them!
`Oh, they have a kitchen of sorts down in the social club. Mostly tinned stuff. It's not worth keeping the canteen open for them—besides,' Mrs Pullman added darkly, 'I don't want them mucking up my kitchen.'
`So there won't be a delivery of fresh fruit today?' Sarah asked idly, although she held her breath for the answer.
Mrs Pullman nodded. 'Didn't have time to cancel it,' she said. 'Still, it won't go amiss. They'll be glad enough of it down at the social club.'
Sarah let out her breath, and wondered if she dared risk carrying out a plan that had suddenly presented itself to her. If she was right about Mrs Pullman's thoughts about her, then it would work; if she wasn't, then she would be no better off than she was before.
She carefully buttered her toast, and said thoughtfully, as if speaking to herself, 'I guess it's time to move on.' She looked at Mrs Pullman. `You can't win them all, can you?' she said, and sighed. 'He could have told me he was going to Darwin,' she added, in what she hoped sounded a
pettish tone. 'So that's that. Do you think there's any chance of the Park van driver giving me a lift? No one seems to have any transport here, and as there's no more coaches leaving, I'll have to make my own arrangements.'
Mrs Pullman's look said it all. She didn't think there was much point in Sarah hanging around either, not now that she had been given the big brush-off. 'He might,' she said consideringly. 'I can't offer you a lift. My son's collecting me, and we don't go anywhere near the main routes. We'll see what he says.'
Sarah could almost smell freedom. There was no reason why the driver should refuse to give her a lift to the Park; he'd probably be glad of the company, she thought, and she could surely find other transport there to take her back to civilisation!
IN gratitude for Mrs Pullman's cooperation in assisting her escape, although that good lady would have been most put out had she known the reason for Sarah's over-long stay at the site, Sarah asked if there was anything she could do to help her in closing down the canteen, now that she was without Sandy's help, and her offer was accepted.
As they washed down tables and shelves, Sarah made general conversation with the manageress. She wondered why Sandy had gone the day before her aunt, and whether the decision to let Mrs Pullman go had been a sudden one, for she recalled Sandy saying that her aunt sometimes stayed on at the site.
It turned out that Sandy's boy-friend was an apprentice there, and she had gone back with him to meet his family. 'I don't know what my sister will have to say about that,' mused Mrs Pullman. `She considers Sandy's a mite too young to start courting, but she forgets how it was when we were seventeen. I was married at eighteen, and she was married at nineteen. Just as well, come to think of it,' she added, as she paused for a moment, then started polishing vigorously. Was widowed twenty years later, so was Cathy—they worked together. A storm uprooted a tree and landed it right across the road—pitch black it was.