The Reluctant Guest (6 page)

“I suppose you know what you’re getting at,” she returned. “I don’t
.
”

“I think you do, Pretty Ann. Up to a point you’re like other English girls I’ve met—a good sort, intelligent and fond of fun. But there it ends. I
think
you’re more gentle than most girls, and where men are concerned you’re a coward.”

“You’re just one man—not the whole contingent
.
”

“Then you’re only a coward with me,” he slipped in. “Is that it?”

A
nn
kept her glance trained on the garden. “I met you for the first time yesterday; it’s very unlikely that you’ve affected me in any way at al
l.
”

“Then why did you go stiff today, the moment I came in?”

“Because I’m grubby, I daresay. While I was undergoing that chilly upbringing you mentioned I learned that one I can look attractive even in the midst of household chores. But I thought I had the house to myself for the afternoon
.
”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He straightened, and his smile was sly and probing. “There are several bachelor farmers in the district. How would you like to exchange the riding master’s office for the wide-open spaces—permanently?”

“I haven’t thought about it
.
”

“What have you thought in terms of—Theo’s small holding?”

Ann
had had enough. She turned swiftly and glared at
him.
“You’re outrageous! I’m a guest here in Theo’s house and have nothing whatever to do with you or your farm.
If you’ve a grouch against English girls, work it out of your system some other way—I’m not interested!”

“Hey!” in astonishment. “That’s some eruption.”

Ann
was trembling, but her chin was high. She stood back and waved at the door. “Do you mind leaving?”

He moved, but it was a pace or two closer; he looked down at her. In mocking admiration he said, “I like that spirit—it explains a few things. If there were no apprehensive look in your eyes
...”

And then he did the unpardonable. He grasped her upper arms, pinning them to her sides, bent his head and placed a firm kiss on her lips. Powerless in her body,
Ann
wrenched her head back and blazed at him all the ha
te
and contempt
she could summon. Her hazel eyes had gone green and brilliant
.

He laughed, showing white teeth, let her go and said
lazil
y, ‘You brought it on yourself, honey. I always take a dare.” And then he walked out into the sunshine.

The door thudded behind him, but Ann couldn’t move for a moment, to lock the door. Then it wasn’t necessary, for the estate car zoomed away and the whole place was quiet again.

She turned a little blindly, found herself fac
in
g her reflection in the square mirror. The scarf about her head
had fallen back, and a few tawny tendrils lay over her forehead. The brown-green eyes had lost their lights and looked dazed, and her mouth
...
Ann gazed at it, saw only that it was curved like anyone else’s, though the lower lip appeared fuller than usual and quivery.

She dropped her forehead against her hot fist. He’d thought it was funny, to make her helpless with those big lean hands of his and
...
and plant a careless kiss on his way to the door. For in spite of the firmness it
had
been careless, like the friendly smack you give to a dog when he’s in the way. She couldn’t stay here; she would pack and leave by the next train. Elva wouldn’t understand, but it couldn’t be helped. She would write to Theo—tell him ... oh, tell him something!

But if she ran out that big conceited creature would be more amused than ever. He would know that every accusation he had made was true—at least, that was how it would look. And the thing he’d said weren’t true at all. She had never felt frigid towards anyone till yesterday morning
...
when he had given her one of his frank but unreadable glances and said, “You’re an odd one.” Yes, that was it. Though why it should have had such an effect on her reaction to the man was beyond Ann. She only knew that yesterday’s feeling that she didn’t want to see him again was stronger than ever.

She went into the bathroom and splashed cold water over her face, marched straight back into the living room and dragged one of the tables through to the kitchen. There she vigorously rubbed the table with some ragged pieces of sandpaper which Aaron had found, and gradually felt calmer. The kiss wouldn’t bother him, so why let it bother her? He’d probably forgotten it already, and it was only because she was young and silly and vulnerable that she thought it so important. Why not show him that she could take Storr Peterson and his kind in her stride?

When Elva returned just after five, the dining-table and a smaller one which stood near the wall were rubbed and scrubbed back to their natural pale gold, and the room was more or less usable. Elva threw her riding boots into one
corner
and stood unbuttoning her shirt while she surveyed the one or two alterations. She looked expansive and windblown.

“You’ve made a good start,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about it. Our credit’s fairly good at the main store. Spend thirty pounds and put it to our account.”

“You
think
Theo will agree?”

“He needn’t know. The income from the fowls is all mine, and I’m doing well. In any case, if I marry and leave you and Theo in possession, you can call it my wedding present
.
”

Ann
said, “Mr. Peterson dropped in this afternoon.”

Elva stopped her paddling about the room, looked displeased. “The deuce he did. He doesn’t usually come to the house without invitation—not unless there’s something special. Was there?”

“He’s having guests tomorrow night, and we’re invited.”

Elva considered this. “That’s fine. But it was bad luck
—
his dropping in while we’re untidy. Did you ... tell him anything?”

Quite a lot, thought Ann. But she answered, “Only that you’re keen to renovate the room. He thought I
’
d merely agreed to clean up your books.”

Elva gave her an absent smile. “I knew I could rely on you. Nothing else?”

“Theo’s decided to have his wrist X-rayed; he’ll be away another four days.”

“Oh.” Elva pondered, and shrugged. “We’ll get along. Not much doing at the moment” She was halfway to the door when she slowed and asked, “Know anything about dressmaking?”

“A little. I make my own summer frocks, but nothing
else.”

“I’ve a rather good green frock that has a cowl thing at the neck. Think you could take of
f
the cowl and give the neckline more of a plunge?”

Ann
smiled thinly. “I’ll have a go at it.”

Elva reached out and patted her shoulder. “You’re a nice girl, Ann. Thanks.”

She
shuffled
through the corridor to the bathroom, and
Ann
collected the riding boots. For a moment she wondered how she had arrived at the peculiar situation in which she found herself. It seemed that you could take just one step in an unfamiliar direction and land up in a first-rate muddle. She was here at Groenkop with Theo’s sister, who had decided to make an all-out attack on the bachelor state of Storr Peterson. Only yesterday he had admitted that he kept clear of love, and today he had gone a step further—demonstrated that kissing didn’t mean a thing to him. Well, it was possible that he would marry Elva; in fact, nothing that he might do would surprise Ann. All she wanted to be sure of was that she herself would not be included in any of his future exploits!

Yet during the evening and later, in bed, she felt an ache in her throat and behind her eyes. It was a strange and new sensation. The curtains billowed, a
c
ool sweet scent came into the room and a sharp new moon was dipping down behind the gum trees. There was a difference in the air from the heat of midday, an indefinable change which seemed to permeate not only the bedroom but her own body. Ann was a little afraid of it.

Morning, of course, brought back her usual sanity. She rode in Belati West, ordered paints and varnish stain, brushes and paint roller, furniture oil and a pound of putty. From the same store she begged snippets of material; one couldn’t decide on shades till the walls were finished.

Back at the house she gave the woodwork at the windows and door an undercoat of white and stained the tables a rich dark brown.
Modern
paints, she noticed, had little smell, but to be on the safe side she told Aaron to set the lunch in the stoep. During the afternoon she altered Elva’s frock—narrowed the shoulders and cut the front into a V. It was a stiff mid-green silk with a black line in it, the sort of frock that a countrywoman often buys to be ready for any occasion. Elva said she had bought it a year ago when one of Theo’s friends had married, but she had thought it to
o
feminine to wear again.

That evening, though, she appeared to have enjoyed getting into it and using an unaccustomed amount of make-up. She came into the living room with her long gait, smoothed her hips and looked down over her own pale shoulders.

“Looks better than I remembered. You’ve made the neck lie well, but it looks plain, doesn’t it?”

“Haven’t you a necklace?”

“I don’t wear necklace.” She laughed, almost selfconsciously. “Besides, when we were bathing once Storr told me I had a good neck; no reason why I shouldn
’
t
remind him of it.”

“None at all. What about a dress clip?
”

“I’ve only a ghastly old thing that used to be my mother’s.”

“I’ll lend you mine.”

“Won’t you be wearing it?” Then, quite suddenly, Elva noticed that Ann was still in a button-through cotton frock. “Oughtn’t you to be changing?”

“I’m not going. I’ll get the clip.”

She brought it back to the living room and slipped it into position at the neck of Elva’s dress. Elva looked at herself, lifted an eyebrow at her reflection.

“One of these days I’ll get myself up like this every
night.
I’ll do it if it kills me.” She paused. “You were invited too, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but it was only a courtesy gesture.”

“You don’t have to stay away because of me,” Elva said bluntly. “There’ll be others there, so I shan’t have much chance to be alone with Storr, anyway. I don’t mind if you
come.”

“That’s all right. I have plans for the evening. I’m going to try one wall with the pastel blue paint. Is
...
will Mr. Peterson call here for you?”

“He might, as Theo’s away. He never lets a woman walk about alone in the dark.”

Ann
said, “Well, I’ll go and take a bath. You’ll probably be gone when I’m through. Have a good time.”

She went quickly into the bathroom and turned both taps on full, to drown every other sound in the house. Then she collected clean underwear and one of her older frocks and locked herself in with the steam. She took her time, relaxing her limbs and using a good deal of soap. She towelled, emptied the bath, dressed and pushed back damp hair from her temples. Then she listened, but it is an odd fact that in a bathroom one seems to be quite cut off from
the rest of the house. She opened the door and came into the corridor, then halted abruptly as she heard voices, and saw that the living room door was wide open. To get to her bedroom she had to cross their line of vision, and just now Ann didn’t feel up to it. She pressed back against the passage wall and waited.

Elva was saying chummily, “Yes, it looks well, doesn’t it? Just sandpaper and varnish. I may have a go at the chairs tomorrow. I do wish I’d got all this
d
one before you came home, Storr.”

His tones echoed up the corridor, pleasant and teasing. “If you had, I might not have believed you didn’t hire someone to do it. You’re changing, Elva.”

“Yes,” very quietly, “I believe I am. I’m beginning to love the place, and it does make such a difference to one’s outlook and activities. If Theo marries Ann Calvert it’s going to hit me awfully hard.”

“You’re not to worry about it, Elva. You belong here, as much as Theo does.” There was a brief silence. Then: “You look charming tonight. Do you know that?”

“Good heavens, Storr, you’re making me self-conscious. I always feel rather an idiot in a low-necked get-up.”

He rose to it. Ann’s hands pressed hard against the wall as he said, “You needn’t—ever. When you have a strong and beautiful neck you should make the most of it
.
”

“I’ll remember that.”

He said, “It’s getting late, and the others will be arriving. Can you hurry up our young friend from the Cape?”

“Oh, didn’t I mention it? Ann’s going to bed early. I
think
our hot days and cool nights are a bit too much for her.”