‘It’s changed!’ exclaimed Evonne.
‘That’s the sixth time you’ve said that.’
‘But cable cars, and… it’s smaller.’
‘Perhaps you’re just a big girl now, because it’s not smaller.’
‘I know,’ she said ruefully. ‘Oh, look, what’s over there?’
Two hours later Rick insisted they stop for lunch, saying wryly, ‘No wonder you all tired yourselves out—we haven’t missed a single cage or enclosure or animal or species, and we’re only half-way down yet! I’m exhausted.’
‘I’ll buy you lunch, then—no, please let me! We used to long to be able to buy lunch, but we always brought a picnic to save money—aren’t kids hard to please?’
‘Well, there’s a bistro over there, but..
‘No, no, you don’t come to the Zoo to go to a bistro,’ Evonne told him scornfully. ‘It’s chips and tomato sauce, rubbery chicken pieces…well, perhaps you’re right,’ she conceded with a laugh. ‘All the same, it’s on me.’
It was at the elephant enclosure with its gaily painted pagoda that Rick said as they leant on the railing and Evonne watched the elephants fascinatedly, ‘You’re enjoying this trip down memory lane—it’s good to see.’
She turned away and raised her face to the sun, closing her eyes. ‘I’ve been like a kid let loose in a candy store. I really don’t know why the fascination hasn’t changed. You’d have thought it would… bring back the memories you’ve tried to forget for so long.’
‘Perhaps they just don’t have the power to hurt you any more.’
‘Perhaps…’ And she wondered about that. Not long afterwards they came to the giraffes, one of which was a baby, and not only that…
‘Look!’ Evonne exclaimed delightedly. ‘His name’s Ricky. Now we both have namesakes!’ And she insisted Rick take photos of the baby giraffe from all angles.
But finally they reached the bottom and caught the ferry again, and finally, as she stared across the water towards Mrs Macquarie’s Chair and Wolloomooloo Bay with its fringe of grey-painted navy vessels, after she had pointed and told him that was where she had grown up, the past did come back to haunt her and she went quiet.
They walked back to the hotel, and Rick suggested tea or whatever she wanted in the Cortile.
‘All right, but I feel a bit of a wreck.’
He took her hand in a surprisingly hard grip. ‘You look fine, you’d look fine in a sack—you don’t have to scuttle away and change into some beautiful outfit and wear it like a suit of armour.’
Evonne bit her lip and followed him reluctantly.
Tea, though, she decided gratefully, was worth its weight in gold as a restorative, and it even enabled her to answer fairly serenely when he said, ‘If you’re reliving those memories now, let’s share them. Why were you poor?’
‘Because of broken dreams, probably. My parents both came from the country, they’d married young and come to Sydney to make their fortune, but they were no match for the city— not my father anyway, apparently—and he became a drunk and a wife-beater—perhaps he always would have been, I don’t know. My mother was, still is, one of those naive, timid women who accepted it all, had six children in quick succession despite the bashings—or perhaps because of them—and when the youngest was two, he walked out. Just left and was never heard of again. Funnily enough, that’s when she became a tower of strength. Lord knows how she coped, but she did. We all stayed together, we never starved, we all went to school regularly…And despite that incredible feat, she still is a gentle soul and constantly surprised by the hard, cruel facts of life.’
‘But you were not?’
Evonne smiled. ‘No. I became angry and… brash and intense, and it probably broke her heart to see me like that. But I just knew I wasn’t going to get trapped, as she’d been, although, when I was about seventeen and a half, my hormones or whatever deluded me temporarily into thinking along those lines.’
‘I know the feeling,’ said Rick.
‘Do you?’
He half smiled. ‘For what it’s worth, my parents were not well suited, although they stayed together and fought it out—discreetly, nevertheless it was all rather deadly. I think I was about eighteen when I fell seriously in love for the first time, very seriously, which amazed me a little because I thought I was very cynical about love and marriage. Perhaps you go through a superior stage where you assume you can do it right.’
Evonne blinked, then grimaced. ‘I think you might be right. What happened?’
‘She threw me over for a French tennis player, a real cad and not in the least serious,’ he grinned. ‘And you?’
‘I don’t know what he threw me over for, he simply left, but I can guess—I was also so serious about it all. Fortunately his doing it like that, just walking away, really rang the warning bells and I saw,’ she shrugged, ‘the real difficulty— how to break the mould that, just by being there, at home and even loving my mother fiercely and admiring her, was all the same setting me on the same path.’
‘Have you ever allowed your “hormones” free rein again?’
Evonne looked across at him steadily and said quietly, ‘That tea was just what I needed. You know, I think if I sat down for a couple of hours -with your manuscript, I could come up with some suggestions.’
‘I thought we’d agreed today was to be sacred?’
‘Rick, don’t push your luck!’
‘Rick!’ a strange voice said over them. ‘Good lord, it is you! How was Papua? How long have you been back in town—and of course! Should I get down on one knee, Sir Richard?’
‘Don’t you dare,’ Rick said laughingly, and got up to shake the tall bearded man by the hand, then he turned to Evonne. ‘This is Basil Brush— no, not really, Basil Mackenzie, a colleague of mine, Evonne. Evonne Patterson, Baz.’
‘How do you do, Miss Patterson? This is really most fortuitous, Rick. Several of us are gathered in town tonight for a dinner—why don’t you and Evonne join us? We’d be delighted… how long have you been back in town, old son? And why have you neglected your alumni mates—but never mind, we can rectify that tonight. Are you staying here?’
‘Yes, but I’ve afraid we can’t, Baz. Evonne and I are already spoken for this evening, such a pity,’ drawled Rick.
‘Oh… urn… I get you,’ said Basil Mackenzie with a wink and a nudge. ‘So long as your newfound eminence hasn’t…’
‘Where are you dining?’ Rick broke in. ‘We might look in later.’
‘Zollies…yes, do that, old son. Delighted to have met you, Evonne! And don’t let him forget, will you?’
Evonne found herself hiding a smile, for several reasons. One of them was Rick’s expression as Basil retreated. ‘Not one of your favourite people,’ she commented when he was out of earshot.
Rick sat down and smiled reluctantly, ‘A perpetual schoolboy type! At least we know where not to dine tonight, or even be within a half-mile radius. Do you have any preference in the matter?’
‘I… no. Rick…’
‘Evonne, humour me in this,’ he said with a suddenly dangerous glint in his eyes. ‘All I’m asking you is to have dinner with me, not go to bed with me.’
‘The one is often the prelude to the other, though,’ she retorted.
‘I swear I won’t be so obvious—or naive,’ he stated with a flash of very genuine irritation. ‘Haven’t you enjoyed yourself today?’
‘Yes, of course. Thank you,’ Evonne said a little disjointedly, then added more thoughtfully, ‘If I’ve succeeded in thoroughly annoying you, though, I don’t think it’s such a good idea to have…’
‘You’re not the only reason I’m annoyed,’ he interrupted.
‘Oh?’ She raised her eyebrows.
‘Although your calm assumption that you’ve succeeded in annoying me without even trying— as if I were an irrational schoolboy,’ he marvelled, ‘is even more annoying!’
‘We seem to be having an impossible conversation,’ E
vonne said quietly, and gathered her bag and sunglasses.
‘From which you’re about to run away, no doubt,’ Rick said harshly.
She glanced at him and caught her breath inwardly, because although he looked angry, he also looked intensely alive, and some of that—even irate—vitality was mysteriously transferring itself to her, starting to leap in her veins. I’d love to have a thorough row with you, Rick Emerson, she found herself thinking, a thorough, cleansing row. I’d love to tell you you’re being childish, I’d enjoy getting really mad with you—but no, you’ve made me play that game before, with disastrous results. No!
‘All right, I will have dinner with you—if you tell me what else has upset you,’ she said mildly.
Rick’s expression defied description for an instant—other than fitting the distinctly murderous label. Then in a lightning change of mood he was laughing, and she couldn’t help laughing a little with him and at him, at them, and it was warm and companionable…
‘My friend and colleague, Basil Brush, is the other cause,’ he said at last. ‘He’ll spread the word that I’m back—you see!’
‘Does it matter so much?’
‘Yes, damn it, it does. I had hoped to escape detection for a while longer.’
‘You know so many people in Sydney?’
‘I live here,’ he said.
‘Well,’ Evonne paused, ‘yes, I’d forgotten… Where?’
‘Nowhere.’
‘Then…?’
‘At present. I gave up my house when I went to New Guinea. I’ll have to find somewhere else to rent, if I decide to stay.’
‘Sydney,’ she observed, ‘mightn’t have been the place to come, then, if you didn’t want to meet people you knew.’
‘In the heat of the moment it seemed like a good idea, and I assured myself it was such a big city… however, be that as it may, have I really redeemed myself sufficiently for you to have dinner with me?’
‘Yes,’ she said promptly, ‘but you choose— this is your city, after all. May I be allowed to change?’
Rick sat back and a smile twisted his lips. ‘You know what I’d like?’ he said with a meditative little gleam in his green eyes. ‘I think I’d like to be treated to a full production Patterson tonight, so get out your glad rags and we’ll do the town.’
‘I thought you disapproved… of my motive behind getting dressed up?’ said Evonne with a genuine touch of indignation.
‘I might—but I also have a genuine appreciation for a work of art.’
Evonne stared at him and felt that sensation of a leaf falling like a silent sigh in her mind again, and she thought, he’s impossible, he’s downright dangerous, and the longer I stay with him, the harder it’s going to be. Tonight, it has to be tonight.
‘You asked for it,’ she said almost gently. ‘But I need time, these things can’t be rushed.’
Rick glanced at his watch. ‘Two hours? It’s nearly six o’clock, believe it or not.’
‘That will be ample.’ She stood up. ‘I’ll expect you at eight. No, don’t come up with me, you can’t possibly need two hours yourself—anyway, there’s someone else approaching with a distinctly——’ she was looking over his head ‘—“Good lord, it’s Rick!” expression.’ She smiled as he closed his eyes, and made her escape.
Once in the safety of her room, Evonne closed the door and leant back on it for a moment, then she pushed herself away and wandered around, her mind moving in strange circles.
Then she set to work.
Rick came for her at eight o’clock precisely—and surprised her. He was wearing a cream jacket, black trousers, a white dinner shirt with a stand-up collar with turn-down points and a narrow black bow tie. His golden hair gleamed beneath the light and his eyes glinted very green—even more so, Evonne thought as they rested on her.
He said softly, ‘Black becomes you—I always thought it suited blondes best, but now I know I was wrong. It’s your beautiful pale skin—how wise you were not to get a tan.’
‘I’m not as pale as usual,’ she said foolishly because her treacherous senses were reeling a little beneath the tall, oddly austere impact of him.
‘Brampton added a glow, that’s all,’ he said, and reached for her hand. ‘Ready?’
‘Yes.’
In the mirror-panelled lift, Evonne stared at herself, at her beautiful silk satin dinner dress, so plain and elegant but made sensuous by the material, and the diamond brooch and earrings she wore, presents from Rick’s uncle after the first successful year of the catalogue. Then she looked away from the picture they made together, her head just topping his shoulder, and looked down at the gleam of her skin beneath the dark, frosted stockings, at her shoes sprayed with diamante, at her black satin bag held before her in both hands, and her gleaming garnet nails that exactly matched her lips and the velvet bow that secured her hair—and commanded herself to bear in mind at all times what she had to do tonight.
They ate superb little Sydney rock oysters, then steak that was charred on the outside, pink and melt-in-the-mouth on the inner, with a crisp, fresh side salad. They drank a Traminer Riesling that was light and fresh and laughingly declined dessert. Then they left the restaurant and walked a few blocks through the revitalising night air to a piano bar which was dim and the music soft, and Rick ordered coffee which was freshly ground and headily aromatic, and brandies.
‘I’ll be tipsy soon,’ said Evonne, swirling her balloon glass.
‘No, you won’t.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Because we’re going to dance.’
She started to say something, but was forestalled by a band she hadn’t seen arriving starting up and some double doors swinging back to reveal a gleaming parquet floor, lights flickering, and the music taking on a beat that would be, she knew, her downfall…
She said instead, ‘You’re too clever for me sometimes. First the Zoo and now this!’
Rick smiled slightly. ‘The Zoo was a shot in the dark.’
She lowered her lashes and stared at the brandy, then swept him a look full of humour.
‘Is that an invitation to do my damnedest?’ he queried.
‘Perhaps.’
He put his hand over hers on the table. ‘Then I accept. Shall we dance?’
Evonne was very quiet when they finally left the bewitching music and walked back to the hotel hand in hand, still united by the music, by the reel of each other and the closeness they had shared, the way he had watched and tended her nelpless surrender to the rhythm that was in her rlood, she sometimes thought, but not only that, her surrender to him…
‘Tired?’ he asked once.
‘Yes.’
They collected their keys, but Rick didn’t leave her at her door, as she knew he wouldn’t. He took her key from her suddenly nerveless fingers, opened her door and led her in by the hand.
There was a bright, white moon shedding its silver light over Sydney and pouring into her room, so he didn’t switch on any lamps, and when she tensed and knew she had foolishly left her run t6 the last minute, that she was staring the failure of her resolution in the face, he drew two small objects from his pockets.
‘I got these for us.’
‘What…what are they?’ Her voice was unsteady and husky.
‘Our totems.’ He put first one and then the other into her palm.
Evonne bent her head to study them, and found her heart beating slowly suddenly and with almost unbearable affection. They were two small carved wooden animals, an emu and a giraffe, and into their bases were printed their names, Evonne and Rick.
‘Where… how?’ she asked wonderingly.
‘At the Zoo. Remember when you went to the Ladies’? I went into the gift shop. I…added their names myself.’
‘I think it should be a “Y”… Yvonne, but…oh, Rick,’ she whispered, as he put a hand on her hair and released the garnet velvet bow, ‘you’re so sweet—but,’ she raised her face to his, ‘I’m not the one for you.
I’ve been trying to tell you all evening, and now… and now…’ She stopped helplessly.
His fingers left her hair and caressed her cheek. ‘What makes you so sure of that?’ he asked very quietly.
‘Because I know myself too well. I… I’m older…’
‘I hesitate to contradict you, but my guess is that you’re three—four years younger?’
‘Three—in years, but in other ways I’m older at heart. I’m disillusioned and I’m hard-boiled, I’m cynical and… let me go, please!’
‘I can’t,’ Rick said even more quietly, and drew her into his arms. ‘How much older did you feel tonight when you danced with me, when you really let yourself go and danced for me, because it was me, not only the music?’
Evonne caught her breath.
‘You did, didn’t you? It was different tonight, the way you danced, and you knew it. It was us, not just you and the music.’
She felt a flush of colour mount in her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…’ But she stopped with a little gasp as his arms tightened mercilessly about her and he said in a cold, hard voice, ‘Sometimes you go too far, Evonne.’
‘Oh, Rick,’ she said shakily, ‘if only I could make you understand!’
He released her abruptly and turned away from her, shoving his hands violently into his pockets, ‘I think I do—at least, I think I understand what you’re deluding yourself about.’
She licked her lips as he turned back to her suddenly. ‘You’re trying to say, aren’t you, that— I’m not the one for you. That’s it, isn’t it, Evonne?’ His lips curled sardonically and he shot out a hand and flicked on a lamp with savage impatience.
‘Is there a difference?’ she asked, blinking dazedly.
‘Yes,’ he said through his teeth. ‘And to add insult to injury, you’re no doubt blaming your hormones for the way you feel in my arms, the way your body reacts beneath my hands, your mouth beneath my lips. Don’t look like that— there can only be one explanation, can’t there? You might as well tell me who he is and why you can’t have him.’
Evonne closed her eyes. ‘I thought you said today was sacred.’
Rick swore. ‘Sacred to us—not to the memory of some man you won’t let yourself forget.’
One More Night Page 8