A Lion by the Mane

by Edna Dawes

  A LION BY THE MANE

  Edna Dawes

  © Edna Dawes 1977

  Eva Dane has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  First published in 1977 by Macdonald and Jane’s Publishers Ltd.

  This edition published in 2018 by Endeavour Media Ltd.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter One

  It had not really been a wasted afternoon because Margaret had enjoyed the ride through Sea Point in glorious Cape sunshine, but her host had taken a less philosophical view of the nonappearance of the man she had been invited to meet. In short, Chris Schroeder had been flaming mad! His wife, Helen, had done her best to damp down the long-standing irascibility towards his youngest brother, but Chris had talked her down.

  ‘Don’t waste your time inventing reasons why he may have been detained. Jan is completely unreliable and irresponsible! No doubt he is stretched out on the beach with whoever he is taking around these days, and has not even read my message. I’ll be charitable enough to assume he hasn’t read it, although it’s more than likely he has chosen to ignore anything I write to him.’

  At four-thirty, an hour past the time Jan Schroeder should have arrived, Margaret assured her host she was not a bit put out, that she had enjoyed chatting to Helen, and stood up to leave. The Schroeders were still not used to guests who travelled by bicycle, although Margaret had told them she was a health-addict when they first met. Now, she hid a smile at the self-conscious way they stood on the stoep watching her set off. The entrance to the house was too imposing for a mere bicycle; her two-wheeled machine couldn’t achieve the flourishing sweep which the curving driveway deserved, but she did her best not to wobble as she gave a farewell wave.

  She did not regret buying the bicycle. For such a short stay in Cape Town it was not worth hiring a car, and she was enough of a newcomer to South Africa to revel in a December summer which was better enjoyed in the open air than zipping everywhere shut in with petrol fumes. Free-wheeling down the last curve of the drive she found herself envying Helen Schroeder, who had married for love and settled in this part of the world. From the little she knew of the couple, it seemed Helen had left only an elderly disinterested father in England and had never been back to the country of her birth. Could I do that? thought Margaret. Could I cut myself off from my parents and my sister to devote my life to a free-lance pilot who flies unusual cargoes across wild bush country? Maybe . . . if the man was like Chris Schroeder!

  She inhaled the scent of blossoms in the garden. Under the powerful sun the perfumes were heady, drugging her senses with sleepy pleasure. A sigh of contentment escaped her as she rolled smoothly along, first in the dappled shadow of an overhanging tree, then in brilliant sunshine. No, it had not been a wasted afternoon. The visit to these friendly people had been reward enough. It did not matter that Jan Schroeder had stayed away.

  Then, a roaring, screaming, dust-clouded streak of orange hurtled through the wide gates from the road and slewed sideways, kicking up a spray of small stones as the driver stamped on the brakes. He was not quite quick enough. The front wheel of Margaret’s bicycle buckled beneath the onslaught, and she spun through the air to land with a jarring thud several feet away. Vaguely, through the pain in her back, she was aware of someone leaping the low bushes to reach her but her vision came and went like ripples breaking the surface of a reflection in water.

  ‘Can you move?’ she was asked.

  ‘I think so.’ Her eyes remained closed to steady the giddy circling of the tree-tops above her.

  Protests that there was no need to carry her seemed to fall on deaf ears, and she was still in a dazed condition several minutes later when Chris and Helen hurried on to the stoep with shocked exclamations at the state of their recently-departed guest. Jan Schroeder’s chances of a warm welcome had been pretty thin before; now, he didn’t stand a chance! Throughout the terse cross-talk between the brothers it seemed to Margaret that Jan made the most of his part in the accident, almost as if he took a vicious pleasure in living up to Chris’s low opinion of him.

  Once she was on the settee, the room stopped waltzing and it was possible for her to keep her eyes open.

  ‘Feeling steadier?’ asked Helen anxiously.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine . . . really. I was simply stunned for a few minutes.’ She raised her head to look at the two men. ‘Please stop apportioning blame. There is no need.’

  ‘What were you doing on that obsolete pedal-pusher, for God’s sake?’ asked Jan. ‘I was hardly expecting a bicycle at four-thirty in a residential area like this. You’re not a delivery-boy, are you?’

  Margaret would have laughed. There was a kind of audacious forthrightness about this younger Schroeder which appealed to her. His lack of fuss and the ‘damn-all’ honesty he adopted with regard to the situation didn’t suit his brother one bit, however, and Chris’s face hardened when he said, ‘Margaret . . . Miss Ward . . . is a friend of ours and I’d appreciate it if you would adopt a more conventional style of manners while you are in my home. I haven’t yet heard you apologize.’

  Jan gave a half-bow and said, ‘I apologize, Miss Ward.’ Realization suddenly dawned across his much-freckled face. ‘You are the woman vet I was supposed to meet.’

  She smiled. ‘I was going to say “you nearly missed me” but my battered bicycle gives it the lie.’

  ‘You were leaving! Why didn’t you wait for me?’

  ‘I did,’ she protested. ‘In case your watch has stopped, it is now well over an hour past the time you were supposed to arrive.’

  ‘I was hurrying – you may have noticed,’ he said briefly. ‘You don’t take that pedal-machine seriously, do you? I confess you look too young and enticing to be an animal doctor, but as a professional woman you should have more dignity. The first thing I noticed as I drove in was the flash of bare legs. Your skirt was well above . . .’

  ‘Jan!’ warned Helen in a low voice, glancing at her husband, and Margaret had the impression of secret sympathy flowing from the woman to her erring brother-in-law.

  ‘We are still waiting to hear your excuse for being late,’ commented Chris. ‘You do have one, I take it?’

  ‘Yes, I have one,’ replied Jan tightly, ‘but surely it is more important for me to talk to Miss Ward first. She is the reason I was invited, after all.’

  Helen intervened as she had on many occasions. ‘Yes, and as an Englishwoman myself, I know just what Margaret needs at the moment. A cup of tea.’ She smiled at the other girl. ‘Am I right?’

  ‘How did you guess?’ she replied, grateful for the way her hostess was keeping the emotional temperature down. She swung her legs off the settee and asked Chris, ‘Has Helen imbued you with many English ways?’

  He relaxed slightly and sat down. ‘When a very determined woman sets her mind to something, she usually succeeds, but luckily, South Africa has charmed her so much, I have escaped very lightly.’

  ‘Are you a very determined woman?’ asked Jan, still standing in the centre of the room.

  She considered. ‘So far, I have not had very much reason to be. Fortune has smiled on me to a great extent, and I have never had to fight for something against all odds.’

  ‘So this job at the Game Reserve was handed to you on a plate?’

  ‘In a way, I suppose it was,’ she agreed, ‘although it isn’t a permanent appointment, you know. Doctor Eggerton simply
arranged for me to spend a short time with Russell Martin so that I could further my ecological studies. We don’t have that much big game in England.’ She leant back against the cushions. ‘It was pure chance which brought me the introduction to Doctor Eggerton. I had not the slightest idea that he would be the means of achieving my ambition to study African wild life at close quarters.’ She gave a swift smile. ‘See what I mean about not having to fight against all odds?’

  Helen re-entered the room. ‘Tea will be along shortly. Your colour has returned, Margaret. That’s a good sign.’

  ‘I have been talking about the great love of my life, that’s why. Good thing you interrupted me. Once I start on that subject I am liable to become boring,’ the girl replied gaily, but Helen had not seen such flushed cheeks and luminous green eyes when her guest had talked about animals earlier.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, sit down, Jan,’ she told her brother-in-law. ‘You look all set to dash away again at the first opportunity. I know nothing will induce you to drink tea, so get yourself a whisky – although how you can stomach it at this hour, I don’t know – and relax in that chair.’

  ‘You’re not expecting other visitors, are you, because my car is very effectively blocking your driveway?’ He walked to the sideboard and poured a sizeable drink before returning to sit beside Margaret. ‘I’ve arranged an early take-off on Wednesday. Hope that won’t bother you too much,’ he said to her.

  ‘Not a bit. How long will it take to fly there?’

  ‘Five hours, or so.’

  ‘Eh?’ said Chris. ‘How are you going – via Nairobi?’

  ‘I’m taking a Dakota. It’s a lot slower than the Trilander.’

  ‘You are taking a what!’

  Jan stiffened. ‘A Dakota. I collected it today, that’s why I am late. I only touched down at three this afternoon.’

  Chris had risen again and gripped the back of the leather armchair in an effort to keep calm. ‘Would you mind telling me quickly and calmly just how you arranged to collect a Dakota and why you are flying it up to Myala.’

  Jan rose, too, tossing back the drink as he did so. ‘The Valetta needs a lengthy service before either of us takes it up again, and you are using the Trilander for those two trips to Kimberley. Van Heerdon told me about this . . .’

  ‘Ah, now we are getting to the truth!’ interrupted Chris savagely. ‘I guessed Van Heerdon featured in it somewhere. What does it take to convince you that man means trouble!’

  ‘I went over this machine inch by inch before I bought it. I’m not a fool, Chris. Just for once, why don’t you admit I know more about aircraft than you do?’

  ‘Pity you don’t know a little more about people. Van Heerdon is a crook and everyone but you can see it. I warned you last time that I have no intention of being involved in any more deals which spring from him – or anyone connected with him. That Dakota can go back on the scrap heap it came from. That’s final, Jan. The company will not finance a deal in obsolete aircraft.’

  ‘The company doesn’t have to,’ said Jan banging his glass on the table. ‘I’ll buy it myself.’

  ‘You’re crazy! That orange danger-machine you drive ruined your bank balance.’

  ‘I’ll manage. Van Heerdon is prepared to take payment in instalments. It was a damned sight cheaper than any other aircraft, and it was available now. I wouldn’t let the Valetta make another trip without stripping it right down, so would you rather I left Russell Martin without stores for another month? We have to have another machine if we are to fulfil our contracts. You agreed — the whole family agreed — that I should look out for a suitable aircraft.’

  ‘Yes, but we didn’t mean a flaming useless heap of scrap-metal,’ stormed Chris.

  Helen had had enough. ‘If you two are going to have a row, would you mind going into the study,’ she said calmly. ‘Margaret is trying to recover from being knocked from her bicycle, and neither of us wishes to hear the heated arguments of two business executives – especially when the whole transaction appears to be a fait accompli.’

  Chris looked at the two women and apologized. ‘We got carried away. I’m sorry.’

  Jan crossed the room angrily. ‘I’ll leave. Every time I come here I ruin your social routine, Helen. I’m surprised you continue to invite me.’

  ‘I haven’t finished yet,’ snapped Chris, following his brother. ‘We’ll thrash this matter out before you go, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘You can bloody-well thrash as much as you like, it won’t alter the fact that the Dakota is part of Schroeder Freight Limited as from today.’

  The closing door muffled any further comment and Margaret stared after the two men with confused thoughts. Physically, the brothers were similar enough. Both six-footers and hard-muscled, with Jan the slightly leaner of the two, and with red hair instead of blond. They had that outdoor healthy look which was striking rather than handsome, and it would be difficult to tell which was speaking if he were not visible. However, as far as temperament was concerned there was plainly a wide difference between them. Helen elaborated on this as she apologized for the two men.

  ‘As soon as Jan was fifteen minutes late I knew this was liable to happen.’ She poured tea which had just been brought, and handed a cup to her guest. ‘He riles Chris in just about every way he can. You have met Chris on three occasions, and you’ll agree that he is normally a very reasonable, level-headed man.’

  ‘He’s a charmer,’ agreed Margaret. ‘I’m very envious.’

  ‘Yet, as soon as Jan comes on the scene, he becomes edgy, truculent, and almost a stranger. It’s getting worse. Chris anticipates the discord and starts arguing mentally with Jan before he arrives.’

  ‘Yes, I noticed he had already decided that his brother was on the beach with a girl-friend when he should have been here.’

  ‘Nine times out of ten, he would have been. Today, Jan had a legitimate excuse, although I suspect it will cause more trouble than if he had been on the beach,’ she reflected.

  ‘Why did they go into business together if they are so incompatible? It’s hardly a good basis on which to run a company,’ said Margaret in curiosity.

  ‘It wasn’t always like this,’ explained Helen, leaning back with a dreamy look in her eyes. ‘When I married Chris he had just lost the one aircraft he owned in an uprising in East Africa, and the family joined forces to set him up in business again. Each male member bought a share in the new company, although Chris was to run it as he had before. The difference was that the shareholders divided the profits and the losses.’ She smiled faintly. ‘We were broke for the first five years of our marriage.’

  ‘I’d never guess it,’ put in Margaret. ‘Your home is lovely.’

  ‘Thank you. To be fair to Jan, he suffered as much as we did at the beginning. He had just finished his apprenticeship as an aircraft mechanic and kept his promise to Chris to join the company regardless of the state it was in. He worked for a small wage, but Chris gave him flying lessons in lieu. He learnt very quickly and in no time was demanding the purchase of another machine. It would have meant a big loan from the bank, so Jan was outvoted by the cautious shareholders. He took the decision as a personal distrust of his ability, and things deteriorated from then on.’ She sighed. ‘I think the time is coming when Jan will break away and start up on his own. Chris and I are doing our best to prevent it, but he really is impossible, at times.’

  ‘I should have thought Chris would be glad to see him go if their relationship is one long argument.’

  Helen took Margaret’s cup and refilled it. ‘Oh, they’re not at each other’s throats the whole time. The Schroeders have a very strong family feeling which binds them, and Chris and Jan admire certain facets of the other’s character. Jan has never quite forgotten his early hero-worship of an older brother who became what he himself most wanted to be and worked like a slave to become – a pilot, too. Chris was tremendously proud of his pupil and, if he is honest, admits that Jan is the better flier
. Unfortunately, it means he takes risks. Chris is a good pilot – I have personal experience of that – so he condemns the daredevil attitude Jan adopts. Criticism is only a spur to increase his recklessness, as far as Jan is concerned, and there you have the situation. Jan is fearless and carries off his stunts with ease, but it is not the way to run a freight company. Chris is right.’

  ‘Yet you protect Jan.’

  Helen lifted her grey eyes to meet the green ones. ‘You noticed?’

  ‘Loyal as you are to your husband, you still keep an impartial manner when they quarrel. Are you sorry for Jan?’

  ‘No one could be sorry for Jan – he wouldn’t allow them to be,’ she said with conviction. ‘Perhaps it is that I understand why he behaves as he does. It can’t be easy to be the youngest of five brothers and two brothers-in-law, all of them extremely successful in their chosen fields.’

  ‘Five brothers! Heavens, that must take a lot of living up to.’ Margaret’s mind baulked at the thought of five Schroeder men all as magnetic as the two she had already met.

  Warmth crept into Helen’s voice as she described the family she had married into. ‘The Schroeders are a fantastic group of people. The men are all big, strong, and fiercely male; the women are dark and pretty. There is a very strong blood tie between them and they close ranks the minute one of their number is threatened. The brothers have built very flourishing careers, and the two girls married equally successful professional men.’

  ‘Mmm,’ said Margaret, beginning to see the set-up. ‘And Jan, as the youngest, feels bound to hold his own amongst them.’

  ‘More than that,’ corrected Helen, ‘he fights a perpetual battle to prove he can do anything they can do – and better! From what I can deduce, I think Jan had a pretty thin time of it as a boy. Being the youngest, he was always the one who had to find the others in games of hide and seek. On a large farm, four enterprising boys and two crafty girls can stay concealed all day if they wish, and Jan used to tramp for miles on his young legs trying to find them. In the war games, there was never any question of who was to be taken prisoner and tortured. Of course, they didn’t really hurt him, but I think they put the fear of God into him sometimes. Boys can be very cruel to each other through thoughtlessness. I know they tied poor Jan to a tree once, then went home and forgot about him. They all had a thrashing for that. Chris said he couldn’t sit down for several days, because it had been his idea in the first place. He seems to have been the ring-leader, I fear. He is the second eldest, and together with Kip, who is barely a year younger, dreamt up most of the games they all played. Even today, the two of them are as close as twins, but Kip has a farm which he refuses to give up to join in the risky business of flying. Chris has always regretted his inability to persuade him.’