The Reluctant Guest (16 page)

The smile went cold and taut “So now we know. It was a good way of finding out, wasn’t it? Let’s join the rest.” Without another word he went to the door, opened it and stood well back while she passed out into the corridor.

If Ann hadn’t become numbed, the rest of that evening would have been unbearable. She talked with people without remembering what she had said, danced with Neville Braithwaite and one or two others, drank a nightcap of some sort and said goodnight to various guests as they drove away. Then she was out in the night, walking at one side of young Braithwaite while Elva walked at his other side. Theo had stayed behind for some reason. No, for a reason that Ann knew very well.

She said goodnight in the cottage living room and went along to her bedroom. She felt sick and terrified, undressed while she listened hard for Theo’s return. But Theo didn’t return; through the rest of the nightmarish dark hours Ann was too wide awake to have missed his coming.

Dawn broke, and with it came the usual confusion of sounds from Aaron in the kitchen, and other sounds which Ann could not identify. She g
ot
up and went to her window, saw the morning mist with the sheen of sunshine over it, the bush flowers heavy with dew. Her head ached, her throat felt as if nothing would ever pass through it again. She heard a faint humming above the mist, strained to catch a glimpse of a dark speck against the sky. There w
a
s nothing; possibly she had even imagined the noise.

She washed and dressed, looked at her heavy-eyed reflection and wondered why this should be happening to
Ann
Calvert, who had always led a blameless if rather tame existence under the parental roof. She thought, suddenly, that this was her chance to escape; she could take the train to Cape Town, install herself in the hotel at Newlands where no one would ever look for her.

She went along to the living room, picked up a glass of orange juice from the table and took it out to the veranda. She viewed the soft melancholy of the morning, saw it parted by blatant sunbeams and was conscious of an unidentifiable but exquisite perfume. All her nerves seemed to touch surface, so that even her fingers on the glass had a sore, sensitive feeling. She drank, and there was a tenderness in her mouth, too.

Then a man came whistling through the orchard, and when he was close enough she saw it was Neville Braithwaite. His young face looked serene, his hands were dug into his pockets and he walked as if the air itself were lifting him and pushing him on.

“Hi,” he shouted, from at least fifty yards away, and then kicked a stone about a mile to demonstrate the soaring state of his spirits.

“Good morning,” she said, when he reached her. “Have you been left behind?”

“Did you know?” he said with chagrin. “I thought I’d surprise you. The boss left me here to keep an eye on you and Elva.”

“Yes? Has he
...
been gone long?”

“I drove them up to the field and saw them off. Just arrived back. How will I do as a guardian?”

She summoned a faint smile. “We’ll stand it. Theo didn’t come back all night.”

Neville Braithwaite shrugged. “That was Storr’s idea. He thought you two women might worry if you knew he was off in the plane early this morning. Actually, you’ve no need to worry at all. Old Theo is a natural in a plane.” Just as Elva was a natural on a horse, thought
Ann
hollowly. She felt tired, but relieved that she was not to be entirely alone with Theo’s sister.

“Had breakfast?” she asked.

“A sketchy one, with Storr and Theo—I got up later than they did and had to hurry. I could go some toast and coffee if you’ve any to spare.”

“Come right in. It’s what
I’
m going to have myself.”

They had finished the toast and were drinking second cups of coffee when Elva came through from her room, dressed in the riding breeches and a shirt. She lifted a brow at Neville, shouted through to Aaron for porridge and eggs.

“Thought you’d be getting ready to fly away,” she commented, as the young man seated her. “Phew, what a night it was! I haven’t been to that sort of party since Storr was here more than eight months ago. I’m late.”

“The land will wait—that’s one thing you can be sure of with land,” Neville said. “I came over to tell you that
T
heo has gone with Storr to Jo’burg. I’m staying till they get back.”

“The deuce you are
!
” Obviously the
inf
ormation was not entirely agreeable to Elva. She poured some coffee clumsily. “What’s the idea?”

“Seems Storr had to go, and he thought Theo would like to go too. Nothing more to it.”

“What’s so important up there in Johannesburg?”

“Some woman, I suppose.”

She sat up, rigidly, fixed him with a sword-like stare. “What woman?”

“Hey now,” he said, genuinely alarmed. “I didn’t mean anything. It’s just as likely to be something to do with the organization. I was joking.”

“Then don’t joke!”

“I’m sorry.” He looked apprehensively at Ann, added casually, “Well I’ve delivered my message. Like to come out for a walk Ann?”

It was the most sensible thing to do. She stood up without too much haste and wandered out with him. They lingered in the garden, not speaking, while Ann looked over the newly-dug flower bed and at the heap of weeds the land-boy had already collected from the lawn. Then they strolled down into the orchard.

At last Neville asked, “Did I say something I shouldn’t?”

“It did seem that way, didn’t it?”

“Is Elva sweet on Storr? I can’t believe it.”

“In a way,” she said, “it would be better if he stayed up north.”

“That’s no answer.”

“It’s the only answer you’ll get,
I’
m afraid.”

He shook his head, thought for a minute or two and shrugged. “I give up. Did you expect a message from Theo?”

“Was there one?”

“No. He said you’d understand.”

“I think I do.”

They were almost through the orchard when he said, “Storr told me that he’d promised his cousin he’d go over there before returning to Johannesburg. Actually, he’s
coming back, but he said you and I could go over and explain that this absence is only temporary. And I have to get his foreman to help Elva, if she needs it.”

“He remembers everything, doesn’t he?”

“That’s the sort of chap he is. A bit wearing for most of us, but he never expects anything of us that he wouldn’t do himself.”

They came within sight of the big house, and Ann slowed She asked offhandedly, “Don’t you really have any idea why Storr had to go up to Johannesburg this morning?”

“None at all. I came down to save him the trip. I think Chloe De Vries must have sparked off something in that letter.”

She had angled for the name, yet when it came she winced slightly. She bent and picked up an acacia pod, ran thumb and finger over the hard surface and dropped it, as she asked, without expression,

“What sort of person is she—Miss De Vries?”

“Bright and curvy, a good dresser, tons of pluck, and expensive.”

“That’s descriptive, if rather brief. Do you like her?”

“I might, if I could get near her. She moves among the magnates—knows her way about. She learned to fly to please Storr.”

Ann nodded, as if she were unsurprised, said evenly. “My holiday is seeping away, and I don’t have much to show for it. I’m thinking of leaving tomorrow.”

He stopped dead, his boyish face concerned. “Look here, I can’t let you go. Storr said you might suggest it and that I was to stop you. I’m not the big he-man at this sort of thing—I can only tell you you can’t go.” Then he smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you the best time I can while Theo’s away. If all goes well—and it’s bound to—he’ll be in rip-roaring spirits when he gets back, and the rest of your holiday will be marvellous.”

She gave him the smile he wanted. “I don’t know what it is about Groenkop, but I never get my own way in this place. Shall we go over to see the Wenham’s today?”

“Sure. I’ll see the foreman and bring the car over to pick you up. Unless you’d like to stick with me?”

“No, I think I’d better talk to Elva. See you in about an hour?”

They parted, and Ann walked back through the orchard to the cottage. Elva had finished her breakfast and was smoking a cigarette while she leafed through some papers at one of the shelves of the renovated bookcase. She glanced across at Ann.

“I’m glad you didn’t bring that young idiot back with you. What did he say about this flight of Theo’s?”

“Only what he told you.” To ward off a question about her own knowledge of the flight, Ann said quickly, “Theo wanted a chance to fly again. He has it.
”

“He’s bound to fumble.”

“You said that as if you hope so. Storr is up there with him!”

“They’ll get through, because of Storr, but Theo may make a mess of it, just the same. Why should he want to fly again? He has this idea of starting a travel agency, and if he chose Cape Town you could live near your precious parents. You’ve no reason to want him to fly!”

Talking to Elva was often like communing with a robot. She had fixed notions and plans, a fanatical disregard for human needs and foibles, even those of her brother. About Ann, apparently, she had no ideas at all; she saw her only as a convenient appendage of Theo’s.

A
nn
went to the table and began piling the plates. “Do you mind if I go with Neville Braithwaite to the Wenhams’ farm? He has to give them a message from Storr?”

Oddly, Elva smiled. “Not a bit. Stay there for lunch, if you like. I’ll take some out with me so that I don’t have to bother about getting back around one. With Theo’s stint to do, I’ll be busy.”

Ann didn’t mention the Groenkop foreman; Elva could deal with him when he arrived. She watched that bewildering smile on the other girl’s lips, wondered if she knew about the
modern
apartment in the big house, and tried to decide just how much Elva would benefit if Theo did transfer himself to Cape Town.

Elva went out, lithely, like a young man. A few minutes later the roan galloped away down the lane. She’d gone without her lunch. Ann found Aaron, told him to make some sandwiches and packet them; if the missus didn’t turn up to elevenses he was to go out and find her.

She walked about the house, feeling bereft and lonely. Yet already she, was reconciled to staying here, using up the month as close to Storr as she could get. It was ridiculous, painful and foolhardy, but she could please herself, couldn’t she? It was
her
holiday. Thank heaven, though, that she was normally coolheaded. When she did get away from this place she could become the suave and distant young woman who handled small children in the saddle, soothed anxious parents and typed out accounts. She had to.

Ann made her bed and Elva’s, dropped soiled clothing into the linen basket and changed her slacks for a skirt. By that time Neville Braithwaite was outside, pressing the klaxon.

T
he few hours with the Wenhams were busier than when Ann had visited them with Storr. The children were there, of course, and they appropriated Neville and wanted to know if the new plane was faster than the old one, whether he had ever dropped by parachute and what he could do if he suddenly found while flying that he had no petrol. Neville answered facetiously, and they giggled and pounded him.

Hazel was calm and unworried, her husband drove up in his jeep and carried a couple of karakul goats into the barn to await the vet. Food at lunch was wholesome and plentiful, but Vic Wenham had to leave them as soon as he had eaten, though Hazel stretched herself in her favorite position and talked desultorily.

“I’m not surprised Storr has slipped away,” she said. “Telephoning one’s girl can be very unsatisfactory. By the way,” she turned to Ann, “he told me when he was here with you that he’s changing the house a little. How is it looking?”

“Splendid,” Ann said carefully.

“Only Storr could get things done so quickly. Though he did do the planning and ordering in Johannesburg before he came—with the Chloe person, I suppose. Ah, well, it’s nice to know he’s thinking of settling. It means he won’t be flying much more.”

Ann was glad that Neville put in a comment “You’re one of these women who don’t think it right for a
man
to fly after he’s married. Bit tough on us blokes, isn’t it?”

Hazel gave her a lazy smile. “I think there are types who can stand it; thousands obviously do stand it I couldn’t, I’m afraid—and I’m pretty sure Storr kept free of complications till h
e
had finished routine flying. Why are you sore—thinking about getting married?”

“Well ... no. At least, I don’t t
hink
about it unless I meet someone who attracts me rather.”

“Such as Ann?”

“Please, Hazel...”

But Neville grinned and answered for himself. “You’re right—such as Ann. You’d be surprised how seldom it is that you come across someone you could go for and who’d go down really well with your moth
e
r as well.
Ann
would make a hit with mine.”

Ann said flatly “That’s no reason at all for bringing me into it. I refuse to be discussed!”

“What Neville means,” stated Hazel in her low, smiling tones, “is that a wife of his would have to get on well with his mother because they’d have to comfort each other while he was flying.”

“There’s no danger in a plane,” he protested. ‘Td far sooner be up there than driving a car all day; it’s much safer!
”

“Storr used to say that years ago—to his mother. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s had it printed and pasted on your windscreen! Seriously, though, it’ll be good to have him established at the farm, even if he does go off to Johannesburg for weeks at a time on business.”

They talked a little longer, and then all three drifted down to Storr’s estate car. The vet arrived suddenly and Hazel thought she had better find her inquisitive children and get them out of the way. There were quick goodbyes, and Neville started the car. Both he and
Ann
were
s
mil
ing
as they turned on to the road and put on speed.

“I’ve been to Groenkop before,” he said, “but only briefly a long time ago. I didn't realize it was such a chummy district. The Wenhams are grand aren’t they?”