by Gloria Bevan
‘What do you want to know about your cousin?’ He was the other Stephen again, she thought with a despairing sigh, his jaw set, expression hard and cold and unyielding.
She hesitated. It was so difficult to put the question into words. ‘Just—all sorts of things. I mean, why did Alison change her mind so suddenly—about your brother?’
‘I told you—a flare-up. One of those things! What the heck does it matter? You’re the one we’re worrying about right now. Doctor says you’ll be fine so long as you keep the pills handy with you wherever you are. They told me I could pick you up tomorrow,’ the sudden smile that so illuminated the dark face flashed out, ‘then it’s back to the vineyards.’
‘That’s right. I’d only just started on—’
His cool voice cut across her eager tones. ‘I didn’t mean picking out in the vines, Tracy. For you, that’s out—definitely!’
There was nothing she could say, for after all the decision was up to him. She made a final effort to retrieve a situation already out of her control. ‘I suppose it wouldn’t be worthwhile anyway, now that there’s only a few days’ picking to be done.’
‘Now you’re talking sense!’ He flicked a finger lightly against her nose. ‘I’d better cut along. Let Lucie know you’re okay. She’ll be pretty relieved to know that you’re getting on all right now. Pick you up tomorrow, about eleven, they said.’
‘I’ll be ready.’ All at once she remembered the women gathered in the long avenues of the vineyard, the boxes of grapes lying waiting to be collected by Stephen’s tractor. She would have to be a nuisance, causing him to waste precious time on her account—again. Tomorrow would necessitate another trip into town to the hospital far from the western suburbs, in order to bring her back to the house. There seemed no end to the inconvenience she seemed fated to put him to. Before she could say so, however, he had swung around, tossing a grin over his shoulder. ‘See you!’ Only after he had left the room did she realize that he hadn’t really answered her question concerning Alison. Somehow she had a feeling he never would. She might as well get it into her head that interrogating him on the subject was nothing but an embarrassing waste of time. As for herself, her attempts at grape-picking employment had ended in total failure. Indeed she couldn’t have played into his hands more had she tried to do so. Now of course he would be more than ever convinced that she was so like Alison as to make no difference. Inept, inefficient, good for nothing but a gay social existence. Leaning forward, she watched through the window as Stephen went with his easy stride towards the grey Holden in the parking lot below. Dark, intense, unpredictable as they come, with a sudden heart-catching smile, what was it about him that made his opinion of her matter so much?
CHAPTER THREE
The following morning when Stephen arrived at the high modern hospital block he found Tracy waiting in the sunny foyer with its landscape windows and trailing greenery. Except for the swelling on her bandaged ankle there was little to show’ for her emergency dash to the casualty ward.
His penetrating glance raked her face. ‘Feeling okay now’?’
‘Of course I am! All this fuss!’ She rose from the seat and went with him across the wide room in the direction of the open doorway. ‘You wouldn’t think such a silly little thing as a wasp sting could cause so much bother!’
He grinned down at her. ‘It wouldn’t have, with anyone else! But you, Tracy, had to be different!’
‘Oh, you admit it, then?’ She couldn’t resist the opportunity for a quick retort. ‘That I’m different?’ The door swung to behind them and she smiled gaily up at him, a teasing light glimmering in her eyes. ‘Even from Alison?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
Oh, what was the matter with him, she thought exasperatedly, that the mention of the other girl’s name made his jaw tighten and that closed expression cloud his face? Now she had spoiled all the pleasant feeling of strolling together out into the gentle morning sunshine. Unconsciously she sighed. When would she ever learn that with Stephen Crane you didn’t mention Alison, that is, not if you wanted to keep the atmosphere light and on the surface at least, companionable. In an effort to break the uncomfortable silence that had developed between them she said:
‘Is that a racecourse opposite?’
He nodded. ‘That’s the trotting grounds. The showgrounds are next door and up there,’ he waved a tanned hand towards a towering green hill, ‘is parkland. One Tree
Hill, they call it.’
Tracy glanced towards the summit where an obelisk pierced the blue. Below sheep grazed over the grassy slopes and wandered down the winding paths. ‘How funny, all those sheep grazing so near the city!’
‘Think so?’ They had reached the parking area and he was opening the car door. ‘Lucie’s in a tizzy. She won’t take anyone’s word for it that you’re quite all right now. She’s got to see for herself!’ Striding around to the other side of the vehicle, he dropped behind the wheel. ‘Seeing you on the way to a coma last night really got her rattled. I keep telling her that you’ll be fine now you’ve get the tablets—’ He broke off, eyeing her closely. ‘You have got them handy?’
‘Right here in my bag!’
‘Good! That should make her feel happier. What she can’t get over is the fact that without pretty quick medication you could have died—’
At something in the brooding intensity of the dark face a small irrepressible devil in her mind made her say:
‘Would you have cared?’
The moment the words had left her lips she would have given anything to recall them. Whatever had impelled her to say such a thing, and to him, of all men!
‘Lucie would!’
Wouldn’t you know, she told herself angrily, that he would neatly sidestep the trap. He thumbed the starter button, put the car into gear and they moved along the wide path leading towards the hospital exit. ‘What gets me is why you had to pick on that particular job to amuse yourself with?’
Amuse herself! ‘But I told you, I had no idea I was allergic to wasp stings!’ He sparked in her such a surge of annoyance that her voice rose with indignation. ‘I’ve never had such a thing happen to me before!’ All at once she realized that her heated denial was proving, no doubt to his satisfaction, just how much his high-handed remarks, his implied criticism of her foolishness, was getting under her skin. Instead of giving way to this argumentative mood into which his remark had plunged her, she supposed she should be showing him some gratitude for his prompt action in, hateful though it was to admit such a thing, having saved her life! ‘It was good of you,’ her voice came muffled, ‘to run me into hospital so quickly.’
‘My pleasure!’ In spite of her rebellious feelings, his sideways grin drew from her a reluctant answering smile.
As they swept along the wide street bordered by suburban timber homes with their greenery and gardens and flowering shrubs, Tracy said diffidently, ‘I’ve been thinking ... your aunt’s been so kind to me, but I—well, I just can’t stay on at the vineyards indefinitely.’ She laughed a little tremulously. ‘And now that the job’s finished ... I mean,’ she amended hurriedly, ‘it wouldn’t be worth my going back to the picking, just for a couple of days—’ She pretended not to see his satirical glance. ‘So I thought I’d better ... make some other arrangements.’
He was skirting a truck piled high with timber, a red flag fluttering from the end of the long pine planks. ‘Lucie’s counting on you being there for the hangi-cum-barbecue tomorrow night.’
Lucie—but not him. He couldn’t care less whether or not she remained at the vineyards. At the back of her mind there had niggled a tiny hope that in spite of his initial coolness towards her he might, he just might feel differently towards her now, friendly enough to beg her to stay on at Valley Vineyards. Now that she wanted to stay there at his home indefinitely, just sufficiently long to prove to him how very mistaken were those preconceived notions of his. Someone had to show him the truth concerning one Tracy Cadell, and t
here was no one else do to it.
‘Better stick around for a while.’ Her swift sideways glance could glean nothing from his expression, for his eyes were fixed on the stream of traffic ahead. ‘She’s got a few ideas in that direction that she’s going to put to you when you get back—if you’re interested. Do you happen to hold a driving licence?’
‘Yes, I do! An international one. Alison said—’
‘And you’re not in a mad hurry to get back to England?’
‘No, no. I’ve no special plans—now.’
She waited for him to elaborate on the suggestion, whatever it was, but intent on the changing traffic lights ahead, he appeared to have lost interest in the subject. They swept along the street where she had first taken notice of the graceful dark Samoan women and other Pacific islanders, then moved out into suburban areas with their sweeping green lawns, an endless variety of flowering hibiscus. Soon they were turning into the busy motorway where the breakwater road was lapped by waters of the harbour.
When they reached the house Lucie had coffee waiting in a pottery jug on the wrought iron table on the terrace. It seemed to Tracy that Lucie considered coffee to be the answer to most of life’s problems and vicissitudes. Bill Evans was there too, his rugged face smiling a welcome, his rich tones giving real meaning to his strong handclasp. ‘Good to see you back with us, Tracy!’ The odd thing was, she mused, seating herself at the small table overlooking the vineyards below, that she did feel glad to be back here. It must be the genuine warmth of her welcome that was making the place seem all at once like home, ridiculous though it seemed.
As she had expected, Stephen left them almost at once, to change into working gear. Tracy’s glance scanned the terraced rows of vines where women pickers were busy. Catching sight of the boxes spaced among the aisles she felt a prick of compunction. No winder Stephen was in a hurry to get back to the vines with his grape-bin and tractor!
‘We’ve been so worried about you, child—’
The other two were so obviously relieved to see her back in good health, they were so sympathetic and kindly, that in the end Tracy burst into a bubble of laughter. ‘Honestly, I’m not sick, you know! I’m perfectly well!’
‘No, but heavens,’ Lucie’s soft brown eyes were shadowed with concern, ‘if Stephen hadn’t spotted right away what was wrong you could have died. If only we’d known—’
‘If only I’d known!’ Tracy smiled.
‘Anyway,’ the older woman’s light tones held a note of relief. ‘You’ll be all right now for the barbecue and hangi on Saturday night—’
‘Yes, I’ll stay until then.’
‘Just until then? But, Tracy...’ Lucie put down her coffee beaker. ‘Now look, child, that’s not at all what I had in mind. You see, there’s something I wanted to have a chat with you about, a little matter of transport. You see,’ she went on before Tracy could make a reply, ‘it’s so awfully isolated out here in the vineyards. There isn’t even a bus service, not a regular one up here in the bush, and I had this marvellous idea. I mean, if you could stay for a month or so, be my driver—’
‘And navigator,’ Bill put in with his wide, good-natured grin. ‘Be warned, young lady, she’ll get you lost quicker than any passenger you ever met up with.’
‘Poof.’ Lucie dismissed the warning with an airy wave of a small hand. ‘Who wouldn’t, with all these new motorways and “no right turns”? No one could possibly keep up with all the changes. As I was saying, if you could just stay on for a while and drive me around the place, Tracy ... you’ve no idea what it would mean to me.’
‘But,’ Tracy said bewilderedly, ‘if you have a car—that dashing little orange Mini that I saw in the motor shed?...’
‘Oh, that’s not mine, dear.’ The older woman appeared somewhat fluttered. ‘Mine’s a Volkswagen. At the moment it’s in a garage in Henderson. A little matter of panel-beating, and a few other things! But it will be back next week, they promised me. Other drivers are so careless, I always think. They just don’t care! Even when you’re just driving along slowly and minding your own business, they honk and honk behind you, trying to make you speed up and get out of their way. So rude, I always think. Anyway, I won’t be driving my little bus for a while—’
‘Three months, wasn’t it, that they disqualified you for?’ Steve had come out to the terrace, lithe and tanned in khaki shorts, a cool cotton open-necked shirt, leather sandals. He regarded his aunt with a quizzical smile. ‘And not without good reason.’
‘Well,’ Lucie murmured evasively, ‘I happened to be in a big hurry that day.’
‘No need to take on a five-ton lorry!’ He grinned towards Tracy. ‘Thing is, she’s just had her car put out of action and her licence cancelled for three months. Has she put it to you about helping her to get mobile again?’
Tracy nodded.
Before she could say any more Lucie’s high, eager tones broke in. ‘You wouldn’t have much to do, dear. Just running me into Henderson for shopping and in to town to visit friends now and again.’ On an inspiration she added persuasively, ‘If you stayed Stephen could take you on some trips to-see the country. I mean, you’ve seen nothing of the place yet.’
Stephen! She could imagine. She was disquietingly aware that he was making no effort to influence her decision. Another Miss Cadell, no doubt he was thinking, making trouble, interrupting his work, complicating his life. She jerked her mind back to the matter under discussion. ‘You wouldn’t need to pay me for that,’ she said slowly, Td be very happy to help you out with driving the car. It’s just—’ She hesitated.
‘Just what, dear?’ Even without glancing up she was conscious of Stephen’s watchful gaze. He was probably hoping she would refuse the offer, which was one reason, she decided, why she was seriously considering accepting it.
Aloud she said: ‘I couldn’t let you pay me for enjoying myself and staying on here. I’d feel... Oh, I don’t know ... as though it wasn’t fair to you.’ An idea that had occurred to her once or twice before returned to her mind. It was worth a try and he could only refuse.
‘it would be different,’ she avoided glancing in Stephen’s direction, ‘if I could do something else as well, something worthwhile, like taking over the office work downstairs,’ she went on in a rush. ‘All that paper work must be getting a bit behind since—’ her voice faltered.
‘Now that’s an offer worth thinking about!’ To Tracy’s relief Bill’s hearty tones broke in. ‘A great idea, wouldn’t you say, Steve?’
‘It might be,’ his tone was guarded, ‘if Tracy happened to have any real experience—’
‘But I have! I have! I keep telling you—’ Indignation lent the ring of truth to her fervent tones. ‘Just give me a trial run and you’ll see—’
He sent her a long, considering lock. ‘Fair enough. Come down to the office in the morning and we’ll see about it then. As to the driving—’
‘Oh, I could easily do that too!’ Her eagerness surprised even herself. She was actually asking to take on dreary office work once again! And with this impossible man as her employer! Why was she doing it? A little matter of revenge on him, actually, for the way in which he had treated her, the false position in which he’d placed her, right from the start, and without the slightest reason! What else?
Lucie’s excited voice broke into her thoughts. ‘I don’t suppose you’d have a driving licence now?’
‘Oh yes?—’
‘Good, that’s fixed, then!’ It was Stephen who answered. ‘The Mini’s in the garage. You may as well make use of it meantime. When the other bus comes back next week you can take over the Mini for your own use. A car’s a must if you’re staying on here for a while.’
‘But that’s marvellous!’ Lucie’s brown eyes shone with pleasure. ‘Maybe we could take a run out to Henderson today? It’s no distance and I’ve run right out of dyes—Oh, all right then,’ as she met her nephew’s reproving lock. ‘Sorry, Tracy, I keep forgetting you’re only just back fr
om hospital. Tomorrow, then?’
Tracy however had no intention of allowing Stephen Crane to dictate to her. She had agreed to help out in the matter of driving, but she had made no promises to him. ‘Today will be fine!’ She smiled across at Lucie. ‘We passed through Henderson township on the way here today. It’s quite a place! New shops, wide streets and parking places, modern buildings. I’d like a trip there to look around.’ But it was useless.
‘Tomorrow.’ He fixed her with a steely gaze. ‘I promised the doctors I’d see that you took it easy for a day or two, so—’
So what could you do, she thought hotly, but go on chatting about nothing at all, pretending it didn’t matter one little bit that she had been forced to obey his hateful instructions. It wasn’t until much later in the day when the queer enervating feeling of lassitude overwhelmed her that she was forced to admit that perhaps it was as well that her duties did not begin until tomorrow.
On the following day, however, she felt that she was at last back to normal health and looking forward to the drive to the western township. Someone, probably Stephen, had taken the orange car from the motor shed and turned on the narrow driveway in readiness for her departure. As she seated herself behind the wheel she was conscious of a pleasurable sense of anticipation, for although she had recently gained her driving licence, all her experience had been gained in the instructor’s car. This car—she glanced down at the gleaming black upholstery, the gay orange paintwork and matching sheepskin seat covers—hadn’t been long out of the showroom. ‘It’s brand new,’ she said in wonderment.