Authors: Kathryn Blair
CHAPTER TWO
L
ou
settled into the manager
’
s house with less trouble than she had expected. Daniel, the servant, made life fairly smooth, and after the first couple of meals, which showed that he had slipped sadly since he had last cooked for white people, his cooking improved, probably because Ali was more disgusted than Lou. Ali was a tyrant but he got results; perhaps his worship of Bwana Gilmore caused him to emulate the man.
Lou found a good deal to do. She went through Keith
’
s clothes and repaired where necessary, made new pyjamas for him from material bought in the main Chekwe store and made a few alterations in his toy cupboard. She let him turn the handle of the sewing mac
hine
while she guided the material, showed
him
pencil marks where he must screw hooks into the cupboard and pretended she couldn
’
t have done the various jobs without him.
The little garden and its views of cotton fields and trees and mountains were a continual joy. In the centre of the lawn an old evergreen fig tree had been left standing, an immense tree so packed with leaves that it gave a dense shade to the log garden chairs which stood beneath it
.
It was here that Lou sewed by hand, or simply lazed for an hour morning and afternoon. Continuous activity in such a climate was impossible, and what was beauty for if not to be enjoyed?
She was out there one morning just before lunch, when a dusty touring car came down the lane and pulled up beside the lawn. She saw a man get ou
t—
a
man
of more than average height but not tall, whose build was too thickset to be youthful Actually, he looked as if he m
ight
be nearing forty, though there was only the faintest grey tinge in his crisp dark hair. He wore smart
khaki
drill and was hatless. Instinctively, as she walked towards
him, L
ou knew that he was good and solid and unassuming, that whatever his job he did it well.
She smiled.
‘‘
Good morning. I
’
m Lou Prentice.
”
“
Yes, I know.
”
He looked at her starchy green print frock with appreciation.
“
I
’
m the District Commissioner, Martin Craddock. I
’
m lunching with Ross Gilmore today and thought I
’
d come down and pay my respects before going up to the house. We
’
re happy to have you with us at Chekwe, Miss Prentice.
”
“
Thank you. May I offer you a drink?
”
“
No, thanks, I can
’
t stay.
”
His blue eyes remained appraising, pleasantly so.
“
It was terribly bad luck about your cousin. Is the youngster all right?
”
“
Yes, he
’
s playing in the sandpit. Children are adaptable, thank heaven. Would you like to see him?
”
“
Not just now. Perhaps you
’
ll bring him over to see us. Staying here for long, Miss Prentice?
”
“
Just a few weeks.
”
She veered from the topic, said frankly,
‘
You
’
re the first District Commissioner I
’
ve ever seen. You
’
ve been away, haven
’
t you?
”
“
I
’
m often away. The D.C. is a general dogsbody, but he wouldn
’
t change his job for any other in the world. We get shoved around, called in to settle every dispute you can
think
of, and sometimes have to shoot a lion in the course of a day
’
s work, but it
’
s a great life, except for wives. I don
’
t have one. My sister lives with me and she can walk out when she gets bored.
”
He smiled.
“
You
’
re a bit young for the responsibility that
’
s been thrust on you.
”
“
Not so young, and I have experience of children. Are there any schools in the Chekwe district, Mr. Craddock?
”
“
Not for white children—they
’
re too few. It
’
s one of the problems here.
”
“
How do they get educated?
”
He shrugged.
“
Some mothers take it on up to the age of eight, and then send the children to boarding school. There are one or two prepar
a
tory schools in other provinces where small children are boarded, and a few parents arrange for their children to live with friends nearer the school. In return, they have their friends
’
children for the holidays. In a remote country like this there
’
s a lot of give and take.
”
“
Yes, I suppose so. I had no idea Nyasaland was like this,
”
she waved a hand towards the soft outline of the mountains, and her eyes shone.
“
It
’
s so warm and rugged and beautiful. The trees are strange—where else
w
ould you see a fig this size?
”
He
absorbed her appreciation.
“
They
’
re old and always left growing. You
’
ll see Africans gathering under them for a little social life, and loads of produce waiting in their shade to be collected.
”
He hesitated, as if aware of some quality in her that he had not met for a long time. Then he asked,
“
How do you get along with Ross?
”
“
Candidly,
”
she said, with a smiling grimace,
“
I don
’
t
.
He
’
s kind and considerate, but he has the mistaken idea that a co-guardian is someone to be managed and bent to
h
is will. He comes here, lordly as you please, doles out orders to Ali, gives me the benign-aloof treatment and strolls back to his car. To
him,
Keith and I are a part of the plantation that needs to be inspected regularly. He makes me so mad that sometimes I feel that one day I
’
ll throw something at him.
”
Martin Craddock laughed outright
.
“
Keith has a long way to go to eighteen. You two will have to be friends.
”
Lou thought of something.
“
As a D.C. you
’
re a sort of magistrate, aren
’
t you?
”
“
Well, yes,
”
he said warily.
“
What are you thinking?
”
“
You may be able to help me. I want to take Keith home with me but Mr.
G
ilmore won
’
t hear of it. Is there some way out?
”
“
I don
’
t decide that sort of case for white people,
”
he replied rather hastily but with a smile.
“
In any
case, I
’
d
rather work to keep you with us. You say you like Nyasaland. Why not marry here?
”
“
You can
’
t do it just like that
”
she said flatly.
“
Besides, I
’
m not sure I want to get married yet
.
”
“
Well, give yourself time to make sure,
”
he suggested
“
My A.D.C. is just pining for a long leave so that he can travel and find a wife. And I know a couple of planters...
“
“
No planters,
”
she said firmly.
“
If Mr. Gilmore is a sample,
I
’
ll
keep clear of them!
”
“
You
’
ve really got it in for Ross, haven
’
t you
,
”
he said with a delighted grin.
“
I must tell him what he
’
s up against
.
”
“
He knows,
”
she said resignedly,
“
and he
’
s not impressed. You see, he
’
s self-sufficient—people don
’
t mean much to him. I suppose he
’
s giving all his time and energy to
making a
success of Mulera. He might be quite different if he
’
d married.
”
He looked thoughtful, nodded.
“
Maybe he will marry soon.
”
“
Really? Is she someone who lives here?
”
“
Yes—my sister.
”
He moved regretfully and opened the car door.
“
Ross will be wondering where I
’
ve got to. Will you come over to the house one afternoon? I
’
ll send for you.
”
“
I
’
d love it.
”
“
Can
’
t be too soon. Let
’
s say tomorrow at four. I
’
m already looking forward to it.
”
“
So am I, Mr. Craddock. Goodbye.
”
That afternoon Lou determinedly made out a set of simple lessons for Keith. When he had had his rest she told him about them, and found him completely unreceptive.
Surprised, she asked him,
“
Don
’
t you want to learn to read?
”
“
No,
”
he said without emphasis.
“
I don
’
t like books.
”
“
Picture books?
”
“
I
’
ve to
rn
all mine.
”
“
I can get you some new ones.
”
“
No,
”
he answered uncompromisingly.
“
I don
’
t want lessons.
”
This was something unexpected. She wondered if perhaps his mother had mentioned school, and he was subconsciously refusing Lou because only his mother would know what was right for him.
She smiled and said softly,
“
There
’
s no hurry. Some time you
’
ll just ache to be able to read and write. Can you count your marbles?
”
“
I can count twenty, but I
’
ve got more.
”
“
Now that you have a little bag for them we might count them all and write it down in a notebook, so that you
’
ll know if you lose some.
”
“
I don
’
t want to write,
”
he said.
“
I
’
m going to the kitchen for lemonade.
”
Lou left it there; even though a shutter seemed to have come down between herself and the child she was not perturbed. There were many ways of getting
him
interested in learning without his being in the least aware of it. But the following morning the subject came up again, with Ross present.
Ross came at eleven. He slammed the door of the estate car and sauntered into the living-room, where Lou was at last sorting through the papers she had taken from the writing-table drawer.
“
Good morning, Louise,
”
he said suavely.
“
How goes it?
”
“
Fairly well,
”
she answered, with the coolness she involuntarily reserved for
him.
“
Like some tea?
”
“
Matey or polite?
”
“
Polite,
”
she said briefly.
“
I
’
ll go without then.
”
But he was not put out. He hitched his trousers and slipped down on to a chair close to hers, at the desk.
“
What are you finding?
”
“
Very little. Receipts, one or two old letters from England. And there
’
s a postcard from the Far East signed by Elinor Weston. I remember her vaguely.
”
“
Dick mentioned her once. A sister with a murky past, wasn
’
t she?
”
“
Not murky—troubled. If there were an address I
’
d write to her.
”
“
Nothing else?
”
She shook her head.
“
Shall I destroy all this?
”
“
May as well.
”
He sat back and looked at the young and graceful lines of her face.
“
You
’
re sprouting a few freckles; haven
’
t you a hat with a wide brim?
”
“
No. I don
’
t mind freckles.
”
“
Even though they make you look younger than ever?
”
“
Is that a bad thing?
”
“
It
’
s slightly irritating,
”
he said calmly.
“
Has your hair always been streaky?
”
“
Pretty well. Is that something else you dislike?
”
“
No, I rather like it, though you might wear it in a more sophisticated style.
”
“
Don
’
t ever come to me for sophistication, Mr. Gilmore.
”
“
All right, I won
’
t
”
Equably, he flicked a fly from the desk.
“
I hear the D.C. paid you a courtesy visit yesterday He talked about you a
ll
through lunch.
”
“
How nice. He was refreshingly pleasant
.
”
“
He says you
’
re a girl of spirit and determination, the sort who could be a great success in Nyasaland.
”
“
I
’
m sure you put him right on that!
”
“
I tried,
”
he said lazily,
“
but it
’
s so unusual for Martin to go even mildly enthusiastic over a woman that I decided to find out what it
’
s all about. Was he here long?
”
“
We spoke for ten minutes out on the path. He told me I should settle here.
”
He nodded. "So I heard. Amused him no end that I
’
d set you against planters.
”
He paused, looking at her speculatively.
“
Would you marry out here?
”
“
How can I tell? You fall in love with a man, not with a country. If you won
’
t have tea, would you like some other kind of drink?
”
He
smiled
mockingly.
“
No, thanks. You
’
re going pink, little one. Is love your shy subject?
”
“
Not particularly. You
’
re capable of making almost any topic rather nerve-wearing.
”
She tore some papers across and dropped them into a painted waste basket, casually moved her chair so that a wider space lay between them.
“
Some time soon we shall have to arrange where Keith and I are going when we leave this house.
”
“
Two weeks yet
.
In any case, I can always give the new chap a room at my place for a while. How do you find Ali?
”
“
Frighteningly efficient
.
Did you make him that way?
”
“
He had it in him. He
’
s been with me for seven years—ever since I first came to Mulera.
”
“
Did you always intend to be a planter?
”
“
I
had the urge, but started off in forestry. Planting has always seemed to me more satisfactory than any other work and a few years at forestry were the best training.
”
His grin at her was narrow-eyed.
“
That
’
s a long time ago. I did my first year among the trees when I was the age you are now. I shall be thirty-three next month.
”
“
You
’
ve had your own way for a long time, haven
’
t you?
”
she said lightly.
“
Marriage alters most men a little, but I
think
it
’
s too late for it to make a difference in you. Still, the woman you marry may not want you any different.
”
The hazel-green eyes gleamed a little.
“
You can
’
t imagine that—a woman wanting me as I am now?
”