No Greater Joy

by Rosemary Carter

  'Why should anyone have anything to say? It's really nobody's business. But if it makes you feel better, I won't come to your cabin to fetch you until everyone is asleep.'

  Clint touched her lips with his fingers, then let his hand rest on her throat a moment, very lightly. So erotic was that featherlight touch that the hunger inside her became almost unbearable. She tried very hard to keep her face expressionless, praying that he would not see in her eyes how deeply she longed for him.

  'If it clouds over and we can't go up the mountain, we'll just stay in your cabin,' he told her. 'But, Clint...'

  'No buts, little one. Look, your first pupils are arriving. I'll see you later.'

  It was very hard for Alison to keep her mind on the lessons she was giving that morning. She knew only what would happen that night. Clint would try once again to make love to her. And this time, loving him as .she did— and despite the fact that there could be only heartbreak for her afterwards—she might not be able to resist him. She could not let it happen.

  The moment her duties for the morning were over, she went in search of Brian.

  'Is it all right if I change my mind about joining the party tonight?' she asked him.

  He was taken aback, but pleased. 'You mean you'll come?'

  'If the invitation is still open.'

  'Of course it's open, Alison.'

  * * *

  Alison looked at her watch. It was important that she leave her cabin before Clint arrived.

  She was the first to arrive at Brian's cabin, but within minutes the others came, too. The girls had brought popcorn and pretzels and potato chips, and Brian and Gary had laid in a stock of soft drinks and beer. Alison's contribution was a box of chocolates.

  In no time the party was under way. Mary had brought her guitar, and she strummed softly while they ate, pausing now and then to eat herself.

  After a while, Brian and Gary began to tell naughty stories. Alison did not think they were particularly amusing, yet she laughed harder than anyone else— almost as if by doing so she could convince herself that all was well.

  She had gone to pour herself a ginger ale when Mary came up behind her. 'You're not enjoying this,' she observed very quietly.

  Alison pretended surprise. 'I'm having a good time.'

  'Did you tell Clint you were coming?'

  'Heavens, no!'

  Mary—perceptive Mary, who had become her friend- gave her a steady look. She looked as if she was about to say more, but Brian came up to them at that moment.

  He put an arm around Alison's shoulder. 'Hey, Alison, pleased you decided to join us?'

  Alison made herself laugh up at him. 'Of course! I'm having a wonderful time.'

  'I'm glad you're here.'

  'Yes, well, I'm glad too.'

  His arm tightened around her, and she felt her body grow rigid.

  'Relax,' said Brian. 'Enjoy yourself.'

  She tried very hard to relax against him, but when he dropped a light kiss on her cheek, a wave of nausea engulfed her. Fortunately she managed to withdraw from him tactfully, with the excuse that she was going to get herself something to eat.

  Eventually the party progressed from Brian's cabin to the swimming pool. Unlike Alison, the other counsellors had their swimming costumes and towels with them.

  'I "should have thought of telling you to bring your things,' said Mary. 'Why don't you go and fetch them from your cabin?'

  Because Clint would probably be waiting for her there at this very moment.

  'I don't think so.' Alison had the beginnings of a headache. 'I think I'll just sit at the side of the pool and watch.'

  Brian overheard her. 'If you skinny-dip, I will too. Go on, Alison, be a sport! Come and skinny-dip with me.'

  Laughing, she declined. Her face muscles ached with all the forced laughing she'd done that night.

  But Brian and Gary, naturally high-spirited and a little drunk with excitement, were not content to leave it at that. Before she knew what was happening, they had lifted her, Brian holding her arms, Gary her legs, and had thrown her into the pool fully dressed.

  When she came up, spluttering but unhurt, she was no longer laughing. All she wanted was to go to bed. But the boys had other ideas. Brian dived down in the water, and inserted his head and neck between her thighs. When he straightened, Alison was straddling his shoulders.

  Gary followed suit with a willing Laurie. Someone produced two tennis balls, and a game started, with Brian throwing to Laurie, and Gary throwing to Alison. The trick was to keep the two balls from colliding. But collide they did, of course, accompanied by a great deal of splashing and merriment as the young men lunged to retrieve the balls, and the two girls struggled to retain their balance.

  Alison's head was throbbing really hard by this time. She had laughed far too much in the last hour, and if the other three were enjoying the exuberant horseplay, she only wanted it to end. The problem was that, largely through her own doing, she had got herself into this situation, and without seeming to be an utter spoilsport, she » didn't know how to get out of it.

  With the appearance of a tall figure at the side of the pool, the game ended suddenly. Clint, in black trousers and a black sweater, tall, sleek and as dangerous-looking as a panther, his expression as grim as Alison had ever seen it.

  There might have been nobody else in the pool but Alison, for his gaze, stark with disapproval and distaste, was directed solely at her. Chin lifting, she stared back at him. Inside her a spasm of fear tightened her muscles, but outwardly she was defiant.

  Brian was the first to break the silence. 'We were just having a party.' He sounded very young, very awkward.

  'So I see.' Clint's voice was terse.

  'We didn't think we were doing any harm.'

  'You weren't—until things began to get out of hand. Did you realise that the campers might hear the noise and arrive to join in the game?'

  'We got a bit carried away...' Gary was apologetic.

  But Alison, defiant to the last, threw the tennis ball she was holding hard at Gary. The young counsellor, caught off guard and made nervous by Clint's disapproving presence, missed the ball, so that it hit the water with a loud splash.

  'We were just having a bit of fun.' Alison's voice came across' the pool, high and clear.

  'Fun?' Clint's expression did not change.

  'Yes, fun. There's nothing wrong with that, is there, Clint?.'

  'I think we should call it a night.' Mary spoke for the first time. There was a compassionate note in her voice which Alison was far too overwrought to notice.

  'Yes, let's.' Wendy, Laurie and Patricia were as eager as Mary to leave the pool.

  Laurie slid off Gary's shoulders, but Alison remained where she was, straddling Brian. Clint was still looking at her, the grim expression in his face as sharp as if it had been etched into his skin with a knife.

  Beneath Alison, Brian was growing restless. His hands were at her feet, pushing at them, telling her wordlessly to get off him.

  'It seems the game is over,' she said brittly. Then she levered herself unhurriedly away from Brian and swam to the edge of the pool.

  The counsellors said quiet goodnights to Clint and to each other, before going to their cabins. Alison walked away without a backward glance at Clint.

  Her bravado lasted just long enough for her to reach her cabin. Shivering with cold and pain, she dropped on to her bed and closed her eyes. So severe was her headache by this time that she thought her head would burst open. She felt utterly drained; she didn't even have the strength to shed her soaking clothes.

  She did not hear the door when it was quietly opened. Not till Clint said, 'Well, Alison,' did she realise he was in the cabin.

  Her eyes snapped open in alarm as she pushed herself to a sitting position. 'Clint!' she exclaimed.

  'Alison,' he mocked.

  It took the little strength she had left to say, 'What are you doing here?'

  His eyes glinted. 'You knew I'd
come.'

  She put a hand to her aching head. 'I wish you'd go away.'

  'Oh, no, my darling Alison. Not just yet.' There was infinite danger in his voice.

  'I'm very tired,' she protested.

  'You didn't look in the least bit tired when I saw you sitting on Brian's shoulders.'

  'I am now.' Somehow she managed to keep a sob from her voice. 'Whatever you've come for... Clint, I know you're angry, but can't it wait?'

  'It can't, and you know it.' His voice was like a whip, lashing her. 'As for being angry, you and I had a date tonight, Alison.'

  'Yes...'

  'Why weren't you here? You knew I was coming.

  'I changed my mind.'

  'And decided to go to Brian's party instead?'

  'Yes.' She threw him her steadiest look. 'There's nothing wrong with the counsellors having a party. They've had them in other years.'

  'That's true, but this one was getting rowdy.'

  'You were only angry because I was there.'

  'That, too. We did have a date.' Three quick steps took him to the bed. He towered over her, so that she wished she had thought to stand up the moment she'd seen him. 'What happened to change your mind?'

  'The party sounded like fun,' she said lightly.

  'Xhat word again!' he snapped. 'You could have had fun with me tonight, Alison, you knew that. Did you think you'd have more fun with Brian?'

  Briefly she closed her eyes. She wanted him so much. Even*with the pain in her head, that was the one thing that had not changed. She wanted him to hold her, to comfort her, to kiss her.

  'Not more fun, maybe,' she tried to smile, 'just different.'

  'You little tease!' His body was rigid, his face a cold mask of anger.

  Alison made a great effort to keep her tone light. 'You're making such a big deal of it. Have you never changed your mind, Clint?'

  Something moved in his jaw. 'If I make a date with a woman, I don't stand her up so that I can have a good time with someone else.'

  Did he have a good time with Virginia on the nights when he was not with Alison? There was a time when she would have told herself she did not care what he did. Now she knew that she'd been fooling herself all the time. She cared far too much.

  'I should have told you I was going to Brian's party,' she conceded.

  'Damn right, you should have.'

  'I'm sorry...' Her voice shook.

  'Sorry?' he mocked. 'You don't know what the word means. What are you going to do now, Alison?'

  'It's a little late to go up the mountain. I just want to go to bed.' Pointedly, she looked at the door. 'So if you would please go...'

  'And leave you to spend the rest of the night tossing and turning in frustration?' His voice was laced with contempt. 'I interrupted the party before you could have your fun with Brian.'

  'Clint...' She was beginning to feel very agitated all of a sudden.

  'The least I can do is give you some fun of my own.'

  'No!' She drew back in alarm. This angry, dangerous Clint was a man she did not know. 'Don't touch me!'

  'I'm not asking permission.'

  So saying, he pushed her down on the bed and covered her wet body with his. Alison tried her best to evade him as his head came down, but his hands laced themselves in her hair, holding her still.

  He began to kiss her then—savage kisses, with no tenderness in them, their only purpose to punish. His tongue probed her lips, seeking to part them, but she kept them tightly closed. He was kissing her so hard that she could feel his teeth against her mouth.

  At length he lifted his head. 'Is this the fun you were after?'

  'No! I hate it! And I hate you!' she shouted.

  'Don't give me that. You enjoy playing hard to get, but you're a passionate woman, Alison. We both know that.'

  'Not this kind of passion. Get out of here, Clint! Just get out and leave me alone!'

  He moved on top of her, his body heavy against her. Inside her, Alison felt the stirrings of the familiar excitement. But stronger than the excitement was a mingling of anger and grief. She hated the brutal, uncaring way he was treating her.

  And then he lifted himself a little away from her, and she took her chance and slapped him hard across his face."-

  Clint drew a shocked, hissing breath. 'You little hellcat!'

  'What about you?' Alison threw the words at him. 'What were you going to do? Rape me?'

  A shudder went through his body. 'Is that what you think?'

  'The way you're behaving, what do you expect me to think?'

  The long body rolled away from her. 'I told you once that I would never force myself on to you, but just now I came close—too damn close!' His voice was harsh, his breathing ragged.

  She waited, scarcely breathing.

  Abruptly, Clint got off the bed and stood up. When he spoke again, his voice was flat. 'If I hurt you, I'm sorry. I've never forced any woman into sex, I don't intend to begin now. Not even with a little tease like you.'

  'Please leave me now, Clint.' Tears were filling her throat and her eyes, and she was determined not to cry in front of him.

  'I'm going. As for you, Alison, you're an utter mess. I advise you to get out of those soaking clothes and into bed.'

  She remained lying on the bed, just as he'd left her, and watched him go. His body was rigid, all the way from his feet to the muscles bunched in his throat. He left her without a word or a backward glance, and she made no move to call him back.

  At the first grey light of dawn Alison donned trousers and a thick blue angora sweater, and walked out of her cabin.

  It would be a while before the campers began to wake up. Mist hung low over the mountains, so that only the foothills of the great escarpment were visible, and the grass was wet underfoot. The air was fresh and filled with the fragrant scents of wild shrubs and flowers. Asmall rock rabbit, looking cold and forlorn, scuttled into the bush at Alison's approach.

  It was all so beautiful. She would miss it so much when she left.

  She knocked at the door of Clint's cabin, and heard the sound echo in the stillness.

  'Come in.'

  Clint was already up. He looked as if he had showered and shaved, and he was sitting at a table, writing.

  If he was surprised to see her, his expression gave nothing away. 'Good morning, Alison. Isn't this a little early for a social visit?'

  'It's not a social visit, Clint.'

  Intent eyes regarded her watchfully. 'Oh?'

  'I've come to give you my notice.' And, when he did not answer, 'I'm leaving Bushveld, Clint.'

  'You're doing no such thing.'

  She stared at him, a little wild-eyed. 'You must have anticipated it.'

  'With you, Alison, I'm learning never to anticipate anything.'

  'Look,' she said unsteadily, 'I can't take any more of this sparring. I just wanted to tell you that I'm leaving. I'll ask Brian or Gary to drive me to the station.'

  'You're going nowhere.'

  'But, Clint...'

  A lithe movement brought him to his feet. 'You think you can just walk out of your job on a moment's whim? You made a commitment when you came here.'

  'I can't stay...' she began.

  'I'm sorry you feel that way, because you're going to stick it out to the end.'

  'You can't stop me going, Clint.' 'Perhaps not,' he agreed smoothly. 'But I can make sure that you never get another job—anywhere.'

  She was shocked. 'That's blackmail!' she protested.

  'Call it whatever you like.'

  'If you won't accept my resignation, I'll go to Virginia.'

  'It won't make any difference.'

  'She's in charge of the camp. And you never go against her.' Alison said the last words sarcastically.

  'We've been over that, Alison, so we don't need to discuss it again now. The fact is, in the final analysis Virginia is still answerable to me. She will not accept your resignation because I won't allow her to.'

  Wordlessly,
Alison looked at him. At that moment she felt totally helpless.

  At length she said, 'I can't remain here, you must know that.'

  'Why not?'

  'Because after what happened last night I can't bear to see you. I can't even stand the thought of being in the camp at the same time as you.'

  Clint's eyes were bleak, but his voice did not change. 'You won't have to worry about that.'

  'I don't understand... I mean, we can't help running into each other all the time.'

  'I'm leaving Bushveld myself this morning,' he told her.

  'Wh... Where are you going?' Her lips were suddenly stiff.

  'The hotels. Something's come up, and I'm needed.'

  'How long will you be away?'

  He laughed mirthlessly. 'Long enough to make you happy, Alison.'

  But Clint could not know what would make her happy. At this moment, she scarcely knew herself.

  'Why didn't you tell me before?' Her voice shook.

  'I was going to tell you about it—among other things.' His expression was unreadable. 'When?'

  'Last night, on the mountain.' Pain knifed her, sharp and agonising, but she kept her head high, not wanting Clint to know how she felt. 'Well, that's that, then, I suppose,' she said. Blindly, she turned and walked out of the cabin. She did not see the pain in Clint's eyes as he watched her go.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ALISON missed Clint more than she could ever have dreamed. Every day she wondered whether she would hear from him. Notwithstanding the disaster of Brian's party, there could be a letter or a phone call. But there was nothing, which seemed to confirm that Alison's feelings were purely one-sided.

  While Clint was gone the camp continued to function smoothly under Virginia's direction. From counsellors to campers, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

  Even Timmy was happy. His face was tanned and freckled now, and he was a far cry from the pale, frightened little boy who had arrived at Bushveld that first day. He had made friends with some of the other children, but Alison was still his favourite person in the camp. He spent as much time with her as he could, helping her groom the horses, and sneaking extra rides from her when he could.