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One More Night

Page 14

by Lindsay Armstrong


  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘EVONNE!’

  But incredibly, Evonne heard herself saying hysterically, ‘Don’t imagine I don’t know why you’ve done this! So that you could blackmail me into crawling through crocodile-infested swamps and creeks with you while you get your thesis together again. Don’t think…’ But she was shaking and crying and it was impossible to go on.

  Until she saw Rick get up awkwardly and come towards her, then all her fears and uncertainties spilled out again. ‘You think you know me, but you don’t. I’d be the very worst wife for you…’

  ‘You can change me all you like,’ he offered.

  ‘But I can’t change me. Don’t you understand—I’m possessive, jealous and dictatorial, I can be bitchy and moody and I’ll probably have a chip on my shoulder until the day I die!’

  ‘If you think I’m perfect…’

  But she went on as if he hadn’t spoken, ‘I’d be utterly miserable… socially and culturally geographing with you, but I’d be scared stiff to let you out of my sight—I know about all the little Swiss girls, don’t forget.’

  ‘I won’t do any more socialling or culturalling in the field, but if I had you, you could let me loose safely in a b… well, in a beauty pageant.’

  ‘If you meant a brothel why didn’t you say it! ’ she snapped.

  Rick smiled down at her and abruptly all the fight went out of Evonne—she went weak inside, weak with longing and a hunger and thirst that seemed to know no bounds. ‘But you left me,’ her lips trembled, ‘you walked away, you talked about someone else…matching me, you told me you’d asked me to marry you on the spur of the moment…’

  ‘I did, but only because I got over-eager, like a horse rushing his fences—basically I knew it was too soon to ask you that and I’d planned to wait. But then again it was instrumental in making me see what I had to do—I had to let you walk away from me. The time had come, my love, to leave the ball in your court. If——’ he paused, ‘I wasn’t very nice about it, it was because while I knew I had to do it, I was also petrified I might lose you,’ he said softly, and put his good arm around her very gently.

  ‘Oh,’ she whispered, remembering suddenly the things he had said that last morning and understanding at last. ‘If nothing else proves to you what a fool I am, surely that must?’

  ‘All it proves is that you came back of your own free will.’

  ‘No—well, I had some help. Hattie and Amos contrived to let me know about the accident.’ Rick ran his fingers up the back of her neck and through her hair, somewhat disordering the neat knot it was in.

  ‘But you put yourself on a plane, I presume?’

  ‘Yes… and fought with a taxi driver.’ Evonne closed her eyes and leant her head on his shoulder. ‘Rick…I’m scared,’ she whispered. ‘So scared of the way you make me feel, so afraid of what I’ll do to the way you feel… smother it, crush it… I’m not good at handling…’

  He put his fingers under her chin and made her look up at him and caressed her mouth for a moment, then he said, ‘Do you believe in me at all?’

  ‘I——’ she swallowed, ‘I believe in you more

  than anything. It’s me…’

  ‘Then all you have to do is trust me. Will you marry me, Evonne?’

  She stared into his eyes, so green and steady, then she sighed helplessly. ‘Yes.’

  Rick bent his head and kissed her lips. ‘I think I have to sit down,’ he murmured, and rocked slightly so that she clutched him anxiously. ‘What is it?’

  ‘The world seemed to move, but I also,’ he paused as they moved towards a settee and sank on to it, ‘have to be honest and confess to you that I’m slightly incapacitated.’

  ‘I know that,’ she glanced at his cast, ‘but…’ ‘There’s more, I’m afraid. I rather severely grazed a hip and ricked my back and cut myself in a…really awkward spot—oh, nothing that won’t heal completely in time, in fact I’m a hell of a lot better already, but I’ve been warned off— well, sex, for a little while… I’m glad you can laugh about it,’ he added with utter false gravity as Evonne buried her face in his football jumper and laughed until she cried.

  ***

  They were married a week later, a week they spent together, but platonically on account of Rick’s injuries—if you could call the way they touched, the time they spent in each other’s arms, platonic.

  It had its advantages, he said frequently, it was a true period of courtship—to which Evonne replied once that indeed it was, and did he like onion chopped into his spinach?

  She took him to see her mother, who was utterly bowled over and rendered almost speechless when she realised her eldest daughter was to be a Lady, then recovered sufficiently to immediately want to organise a gathering of the clan. Evonne started to demur, but Rick said he would be delighted and why not make it a wedding party?

  ‘Are you ashamed of me,’ he asked her later, ‘or your family?’

  She blushed and set her teeth, then told him the truth—she couldn’t quite believe this was happening to her, she told him, which was why it seemed better not to let too many people in on it.

  ‘Believe it,’ he said gently.

  Evonne thought for a while, then told him he had better get in touch with Amos and Hattie and invite them up, and since she was now doing the laundry, would he mind clearing his pockets himself, because she thought she had already washed some notes.

  Rick replied that taking over the housekeeping while he was recuperating was something he was very grateful for but to rest assured he believed in equality in those matters and would muck in and do his bit once they were married and once all his disabilities had healed—two things which he hoped, he said, would occur concurrently. Evonne surveyed him and muttered, Heaven help us!

  And the days slipped by, wet mostly, so they were wrapped in their own little world, insulated by the heavy skies and drenching rain.

  Then there was only one day to go, and Amos and Hattie descended on them. Hattie insisted that Evonne must spend the night with them at their hotel, that it was supremely unlucky for a bride to see her bridegroom the night before the wedding—and Evonne’s mother turned up at that point and was equally adamant.

  Evonne hesitated, then gave in, and after a jolly lunch they bore her away, leaving Amos to console Rick. In fact, she spent the night with her mother, but only after an exhausting shopping trip which those two determined ladies forced her on—Hattie and her mother were obviously kindred spirits and quite shocked to find she had made no preparations for her wedding at all. ‘I’ve already got an outfit,’ she insisted— Hattie had brought her some clothes to add to the meagre supply she had been forced to go out and buy after leaving Melbourne in only what she stood up in. ‘The ivory silk suit you brought for me will be perfect, Hattie, and no, I swear I’ve never worn it before!’

  Well, underwear then, they insisted, a nightgown to end all nightgowns—and flowers! She couldn’t be married without flowers, surely?

  Evonne gave in at that point, mainly because of the look in her mother’s eyes But not even that look could stop her lying awake half the night, staring into the darkness and thinking, I should never have let them take me away from him… Do I have the courage to go through with this?

  She switched on the bedside lamp and looked around. It was not any of the series of slum houses she had grown up in—years before she had helped her mother move to a better suburb, and with Sam and Sandra at home but both working and with what Evonne still insisted on contributing and the others when they could, it was pleasant and homely, but still a long way from Woollahra.

  ‘And baronets, however improbable, and estates in England—I’ll probably discover that by elderly he means it’s a national treasure— and… and I’m scared again!’

  She got up at first light and stole out of the house to find a clear dawn breaking. Glory be, she thought, Hattie and Mum were no doubt also worried about that other old superstition—happy the bride the sun shines

on. But, she mused as she wandered down the deserted street, is there going to be a bride and a wedding today?

  It was her mother who helped her make the decision. Her mother who was up and waiting for her with a pot of tea made, who sat across the kitchen table from her as she sipped it and watched her carefully. Her mother with her lined face and knobbly fingers from years of doing other people’s washing and ironing, cleaning and scrubbing their floors, who said, ‘You have to have faith in something, Evonne.’

  ‘I don’t know how you of all people can say that,’ she whispered.

  ‘If I’d had no faith, pet, I’d have taken the easy way out. I’d have put some of you in fosterhomes and told myself no one could blame me— which would have been true, and I’m not saying it’s not the right way for some, but it wasn’t for me. I believed you were best with me, I never lost faith in that. Was I wrong?’

  Evonne got up swiftly and went round to kneel at her mother’s side. ‘Oh, darling, no! If I’ve ever… forgive me if I’ve ever let you think that.’ She laid her head on her mother’s lap. ‘I’m only sorry I always wanted to get away, but…’ She stopped helplessly.

  Her mother smiled wisely and smoothed her hair. ‘I’m not,’ she said softly. ‘It was only natural and right, and I’m so proud of you. But now’s the time to really believe in yourself, because if you can’t, then you might as well have stayed.’

  ‘He…’ Evonne stopped again.

  ‘He loves you, Evonne.’

  ‘Can you see it? How?’

  ‘I can see the weight of it in you,’ her mother said slowly. ‘Do you love him?’

  ‘Too much, I’m afraid.’

  ‘He’s no fool, though. I think he knows you very well. Look, I can’t promise you’ll be happy ever afterwards, nobody can promise you that, but everybody takes that risk, not just you, so have a little faith.’

  *

  Between Amos and Hattie, Evonne’s mother and all her delighted brothers and sisters, their wedding breakfast after the register office ceremony turned out to be a happy affair. If the bride looked a little shell-shocked, she was also stunningly beautiful in her simple ivory silk suit, pale stockings and with a bouquet of violets. If the groom was not quite as talkative as normal, he was certainly more formally dressed than normal in a lightweight beautifully tailored grey suit, navy tie and pale blue shirt. In other aspects he hadn’t changed much—half-way to the register office he had decided categorically that he had left the wedding ring at home, and only by sheer force had his exasperated uncle wrested it out of his shirt pocket, flourished it in his face and then decided he had better keep it.

  But none of the wedding breakfast party noticed any deficiencies in the bridal pair, and several of them, particularly Amos Doubleday, looked positively smug now the deed was actually done. As for Evonne’s family, they were so spontaneously happy for her, so obviously enjoying this surprise event, so naively thrilled that their eldest sister was now Lady Emerson, they brought tears to her eyes.

  Then it was time to leave, and when someone asked Rick where they were going on their honeymoon and he hesitated, then said he hadn’t actually thought about it, everyone laughed uproariously.

  But in the taxi they took back to Woollahra, not a great deal was said.

  ‘I hardly recognise you in that suit. Did you buy it specially?’ Evonne asked.

  ‘Uncle Amos brought it with him, and the shirt and tie.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I feel a real fool,’ Rick admitted.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I mean about the honeymoon. We haven’t done much forward planning at all, have we?’

  ‘No. No, we haven’t.’

  They were silent for the rest of the way, but once inside his house, Evonne stood for a moment in the middle of the lounge, then turned to him suddenly. ‘What’s wrong? Aren’t you feeling well?’

  ‘No,’ he said very quietly, and came over to her to take her hand. ‘Reaction, I guess, but this will help.’ He put his arms around her and stared into her eyes, then suddenly buried his face in her shoulder and held her so hard she could barely breathe.

  ‘Rick,’ she whispered, ‘what is it? Tell me.’

  ‘I thought you wouldn’t…do it. When they took you away from me yesterday, I thought… I might never see you again. I’ve been feeling sick inside all night, sick and desperate, and even now as if it hasn’t really happened.’

  Evonne closed her eyes and said shakily, ‘Does it mean so much to you?’

  ‘More than you’ll ever know, perhaps. I love you, Evonne, and it started not long after I met you, I’m afraid—there just doesn’t seem to be anything I can do about it. Hell, I think I need a drink. I feel like passing out.’ Rick raised his head at last and he was so unusually pale that her lips parted.

  Then she tilted her head back and kissed him gently and said huskily, ‘Oh, Rick, I love you. I’m sorry… only I could have been such a fool, and…’

  ‘Don’t, my darling!’

  ‘I was only going to say…and please don’t pass out on me now, because I want to keep saying I love you and showing you…’

  It was some time before she got the opportunity to talk any more at all, as they held each other in final understanding and, at last, totally united.

  Then Evonne remembered how pale Rick had looked and she said, ‘Come,’ and led him to the settee, helped him take his jacket off over his cast, then fetched them both brandies.

  ‘On top of champagne this might—who knows?’ said Rick ruefully. ‘But I don’t think I need restoring any more.’

  ‘I think I’d better be the judge of that,’ she said softly.

  He looked at her meditatively, some of the old amusement back in his eyes. ‘I thought you’d brought me here to show me something?’

  ‘When I’m quite sure you’re up to it, yes,’ she replied innocently.

  ‘Apart from this wretched thing,’ he held up his broken arm, ‘I’m fine now—Evonne, you’re not planning to stop me making love to you on our wedding day, are you?’ He stared at her in serious alarm.

  She snuggled against him.

  head at last and he was so unusually pale that her lips parted.

  Then she tilted her head back and kissed him gently and said huskily, ‘Oh, Rick, I love you. I’m sorry… only I could have been such a fool, and…’

  ‘Don’t, my darling!’

  ‘I was only going to say…and please don’t pass out on me now, because I want to keep saying I love you and showing you…’

  It was some time before she got the opportunity to talk any more at all, as they held each other in final understanding and, at last, totally united.

  Then Evonne remembered how pale Rick had looked and she said, ‘Come,’ and led him to the settee, helped him take his jacket off over his cast, then fetched them both brandies.

  ‘On top of champagne this might—who knows?’ said Rick ruefully. ‘But I don’t think I need restoring any more.’

  ‘I think I’d better be the judge of that,’ she said softly.

  He looked at her meditatively, some of the old amusement back in his eyes. ‘I thought you’d brought me here to show me something?’

  ‘When I’m quite sure you’re up to it, yes,’ she replied innocently.

  ‘Apart from this wretched thing,’ he held up his broken arm, ‘I’m fine now—Evonne, you’re not planning to stop me making love to you on our wedding day, are you?’ He stared at her in serious alarm.

  She snuggled against him.

  ‘I can manage with this, I promise. An arm is, after all, not the most vital… well…’

  ‘Hush!’ she said, veiling the laughter in her eyes. ‘Don’t look so tormented. It’s just that out of consideration for your other sore areas, / was planning to make love to you, but then I did promise myself, having taken this momentous step, that I wouldn’t run true to form and be dictatorial so early on at least, and if…’

  ‘Perish the thought!’ Rick broke in. �
��Dictate all you like—I’ve got the feeling I’m going to love it.’

  Which, later, he did.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

 

 

 

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