by Wynne May
‘Your father?’ she asked, turning her head. Lyle had switched off the engine and his fingers were loosely draped over the steering wheel.
‘Yes.’ He turned to look at her. ‘Otherwise known as Cunningham Senior.’
She laughed. ‘Behind his back?’
‘Behind his back - but he knows about it,’ he answered, smiling.
‘It’s strange, but when I saw him through the window,’ she said, ‘I thought of him as Cunningham Senior. I don’t know why.’ Her eyes went towards the window again. ‘Why is it that women pay an absolute fortune on rinses and tints to get just that shade of silver and never quite succeed, while men like your father just go ahead and change salt-and- pepper to that fabulous colour almost overnight? I should know, being in the business.’
‘You shouldn’t admit to that,’ he gave her an amused glance as he leaned across her to unfasten her door. ‘You’re supposed to keep those kind of secrets to yourself. You’ll lose custom if you admit to such failures.’
Without turning her head, Michelle was conscious of his fingers resting lightly on the chrome catch while he looked at her with those blue-green eyes and, while their eyes locked for just a moment, she found herself thinking that this was no time for moonsick thoughts.
She was here, after all, to be interviewed for the position of hairstylist.
The office with the golden flowers on the wide window ledge was air-cooled and that sluggish feeling was stripped away immediately upon entering it. The foyer, too with its arrangement of flowers, indoor plants, original paintings of Basothos wearing colourful blankets and golden straw hats and of ranges of great rugged mountains beneath stormy-looking clouds, was air-conditioned.
Cunningham Senior stood up and the creases in the long trousers of his cane-coloured safari suit were immaculate. ‘Well,’ he held out a tanned hand, ‘Miss Abbott?’
‘Michelle Abbott,’ said Lyle. ‘Ex-London. She used to do the Queen Mother’s hair.’
‘Oh,’ Michelle laughed, a little breathlessly, ‘I didn’t say that!’
‘How are you finding the heat, after England?’ Lyle’s father asked pleasantly. ‘But I suppose everyone asks that. Do sit down.’
‘Well, yes, they do.’ Contrary to her inner feelings Michelle was thankful that she sounded very cool and assured as they sat talking.
After an interruption, when a man about Lyle’s father’s age came into the office, Michelle found that Cunningham Senior’s name was Paul.
Finally Lyle took her along to the tiny salon, which was down the corridor on the opposite side of the foyer. There was a notice pinned on the door: Back in ten minutes.
Lyle pushed open the door and stood to one side for Michelle to enter. Her blue eyes flickered around the wallpapered room and, after all that sun and air outside, her nose felt suddenly clogged with the familiar smells of spray, lotion, shampoo and wet hair. She had almost forgotten these smells, she thought.
‘As you probably assumed, by looking at the notice on the door,’ Lyle was saying, ‘you’re very much your own boss here.’ There was a pause and then he asked, ‘Well, how do you feel about it?’
‘It’s perfect. I feel sure I’d love it here.’
He gave her an easy smile. ‘Fine.’
When Sylvie arrived on the scene she said, ‘Sorry, have you been waiting long? I’ve been upstairs to comb somebody’s hair. She has a very fussy hairstyle, which she simply can’t manage herself.
Personally, I just don’t understand why she has it.’
Lyle introduced the two girls and then said, ‘I’ll leave you two to discuss things. I’ll be in my father’s office, Michelle, when you’re ready.’ Glancing at his watch, he looked up. ‘Have lunch with me. I’ll ring Laney for you and put her in the picture.’
‘Thank you. You’re very kind.’
‘Not at all. It will be my pleasure,’ he told her.
After he had gone Sylvie said, ‘Well, here you have it. There’s not much to discuss. You’ll find working conditions attractive here. I’m very seldom rushed, as you can imagine. I often think I could help out at the desk, but,’ she shrugged and laughed, ‘I’m too lazy for that -
and I mean, why should I? For one thing, I couldn’t stand working with Liza Monatti. Anyway, let me show you where things are and put you wise as to what goes on around here.’
Later, Sylvie walked to the foyer with her. ‘You remember where his father’s office is, don’t you? The first door to the right. I’ll be seeing you before I leave, of course, but in any case, have fun!’
Lyle was in his father’s office and looked up as Michelle walked into it. ‘Well?’ He gave her a smile. ‘Finished with Sylvie?’
‘Yes.’
‘I should imagine everything is pretty plain sailing down that end, Miss Abbott,’ Cunningham Senior said pleasantly. ‘It’s just a case of getting settled and arranging things to your own liking, I should imagine. Am I right?’
Michelle found herself enjoying the closeness of both father and son.
‘That’s so, Mr. Cunningham,’ she replied.
‘Well,’ Lyle’s father looked at his watch, ‘I’ve promised to meet Sid Lupin on the terrace before lunch, so if you’ll excuse me? I’m told -
Lyle tells me - that you’ll be having lunch with us.’ He nodded his approval. ‘That’s fine. I’ll see you later, in that case.’ The blue-green gaze, so much like Lyle’s, embraced them for a moment.
Down at the reception desk a telephone shrilled. There was the smell of expensive leather in Cunningham Senior’s office. The golden-honey chairs looked new. A woman’s laughter, followed by a man’s, floated down the corridor. Lyle said, ‘Well, how about something cool to drink before lunch?’
‘A cool drink would be welcome,’ Michelle murmured politely.
‘I’d like you to meet Liza and Debbie, if they’re still about.’
‘Receptionists?’ Michelle asked.
‘Uh-huh.’
‘But I’ve - I think I’ve met Liza, haven’t I? I didn’t see her at the desk when we came in, though.’
‘She should be there now, if I’m not mistaken.’ He looked puzzled.
‘But where did you meet Liza?’
‘I met her at the party. The party at your house, soon after I arrived.’
‘Oh, of course. I’d forgotten - about Liza, I mean …being there,’ he replied, and Michelle felt a small glow of satisfaction.
With an almost imperceptible touch of his fingers on her arm he guided her towards the door. ‘I can tell them, then? That you’re going to be our new hairstylist?’
‘Yes.’ She supplied the answer very casually, but she was aware of an excitement stirring in her.
At the reception desk Liza Monatti was there with a girl called Debbie. Liza’s almost black eyes swept Michelle’s face. ‘So you’ve decided?’ Her expression was almost hostile.
‘Yes,’ Michelle answered.
‘But I thought the object of your visit was to be with your brother and his wife? Apparently you decide on something with considerable haste, don’t you?’ Her smile was a brief thing. ‘Do you always do this?’
‘No, not always.’ Michelle tried to keep her smile bright. ‘This time, however, it seemed to suit - all round. I’m very happy to accept.’ She hoped the sudden dislike she felt for this girl had not shown.
‘Will you be living in?’ Liza asked.
‘How do you mean?’ Michelle was puzzled.
‘I mean, will you be living here at the hotel? Or will you stay at the farm with your brother?’
‘Oh …’ Michelle’s mind reeled, ‘I’ll be living with Peter and Laney, I guess.’
‘I see.’ Liza drew the words out. ‘And travelling every day?’ There was a kind of relief in her voice.
‘We’ve come to a suitable arrangement,’ Lyle cut in. ‘I’ve arranged the necessary transport.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Liza’s eyes flickered from Michelle to Lyle.
‘We’re go
ing to lunch now,’ he said..‘By the way, Liza, did those brochure people turn up’?’
‘The photographers, you mean?’ Liza’s voice was cold and measured.
She glanced huffily away. ‘No. They can’t come, after all. Not today, anyway. They’re going to ring us later on this week.’
On the way to the dining-room Lyle said, ‘We’re having a new brochure drawn up.’
‘I see,’ Michelle replied.
When they were seated, she said, ‘It’s a most attractive hotel in an equally attractive setting. Well,’ she smiled, ‘a magnificent setting, really.’
He gave her an easy smile. ‘Well, we think so too. The hotel has a name for offering something for everybody.’ He glanced towards the windows. ‘Stimulating mountain air, peaceful or sophisticated relaxation, quiet or strenuous walks.’ His eyes met hers. ‘Then there are those daring climbs where people get lost and walks for the not-so-young, bowls, tennis, riding, sun-filled hours beside the pool… air flights over the Berg, Land-Rover trips up the Pass…’
‘To live with all that beauty every day,’ she said. Her eyes took in the view of the mountains. She sat back, listening to the pleasant murmur of voices above muted music and the faint clinking of glass and cutlery. There was a pungent smell of salads - a subtle pervasive quality which made her mouth water suddenly.
‘I hope you’re hungry,’ Lyle said, and she laughed. ‘I’m ravenous!’ She found herself growing easier with him. ‘Those salads,’ she turned her head in the direction of the long, white-clothed table set against a far wall, ‘smell marvellous. Do you grow your own vegetables here in the gardens?’
‘Some of them.’ She watched him as he lowered his head for a moment and then he looked up. ‘Actually, we’re hoping to buy more land in the near future for the purpose of growing fresh produce on a large scale. Deep-freezing, nowadays, encourages this. We aim at doing our own deep-freezing of vegetables.’
Michelle’s eyes went in the direction of the windows. ‘Where will you buy land? Near here?’ She glanced back at him.
Lyle’s manner changed at once. ‘Adjacent,’ he told her, ‘but,’ he shrugged, ‘there’s much more to it than that, I’m afraid.’
Why had his blue-green eyes changed so swiftly? she asked herself.
And why was it that his voice had been almost casual, but not quite?
She watched him over the rim of her glass and wondered about him and wondered what there was about growing vegetables to meet the hotel’s requirements to make him look like that, and felt a sense of bafflement.
While they were waiting for the next course, she allowed her eyes to drift around the tremendous dining-room with its massive stone fireplaces, pieces of copper and gorgeous flower arrangements. The guests were all elegantly casual, suitably dressed for lunch in a luxury mountain hotel. It was obvious, she thought, looking at some of the women, that the hotel hairstylist was kept suitably busy.
When they were drinking their coffee Lyle said, ‘I hope you enjoyed your lunch?’
‘I did, very much, thank you. The drink, too, before lunch.’
‘I’ll take you back, then, when we’ve finished coffee.’
‘Thank you.’
While he put through a telephone call she took the opportunity to visit the powder-room and she was waiting for him by the time he had finished.
Outside, the heat lay waiting for them. Several people were already in the foyer discussing a walk within scope of the afternoon, and, passing them, Michelle found herself wondering where they were going to get the energy from.
In Lyle’s car she said, ‘We didn’t see your father again, and he didn’t say when I should start work.’
‘Any time,’ Lyle told her, ‘but in any case, if you came a couple of days before Sylvie is due to leave she’ll be able to show you the ropes. Tomorrow, if you like,’ he turned to smile suddenly at her, ‘or the next day. It’s entirely up to you.’
Although she was keen to be with Laney the urge to start work at the hotel took possession of her. ‘Shall we make it the day after tomorrow, then? I’m sure Laney won’t mind. My original plan was to be with Laney so that I could help her. I don’t know if you’re aware of the fact that she hasn’t been at all well lately? However, she’s over the worst now and says she’s never felt better, which is wonderful, of course. As both she and Peter - I can see I’ll have to get used to calling him Pete - are keen for me to settle in this country I think it would be a good idea if I did get settled right away, and this is the most wonderful opportunity. I haven’t thanked you. I’m terribly grateful, believe me.’
‘That cuts both ways. By the way,’ his tone was explorative, ‘if you feel, in time to come, that you’d like to live in at the hotel do discuss this with my father. You might eventually prefer to be on your own, with the comforting realization that Pete and Laney are right next door, so to speak. I didn’t mention this earlier, owing to the fact that you’ve only just arrived and will no doubt enjoy being with them for a while. You see,’ he gave her a sideways glance, ‘I’m doing my best into talking you into settling here for good.’
‘Oh, that wouldn’t be hard, believe me,’ she replied, laughing a little.
‘That’s all I want to know,’ he answered.
The road was corrugated and dusty. Sunlight burst against the windows of the car. ‘You’ll get used to these roads, by the way,’ Lyle turned to her again, grinning, ‘although you possibly find that difficult to believe. Near Thabana, though, the road is tarred.’
For a while they drove in silence and then Michelle said, ‘By the way, I’ll bear in mind what you had to say about living in at the hotel. It might just be a good idea, at a later date, especially as there’s going to be a baby. Laney will want to get the nursery in order and so on. At present I’m using it.’
‘You sound almost definite,’ he answered, ‘about staying on.’
‘Well,’ she sounded cautious, ‘I must admit, the moment you mentioned the position to me I could see all the advantages.’
‘It came up just at the right time, in that case,’ he answered.
After a moment she said, ‘Oh, there’s your house. It’s very spectacular, even from here. More so, I expect, because it’s set against such drama. I suppose that was the intention of the film people? What does the word Drakensberg mean, exactly? I’ve often wondered.’
‘It means Dragon Mountains. How the name came to be given is not known. The Zulu name is Quathlamba, meaning a barrier of up-pointed spears.’
‘How fascinating,’ she replied, feeling the golden glow of sun on her face. She felt like laughing back at the sun. Suddenly she felt drowsy with dreams.
At the farm she said, ‘Well, thank you so much for everything.’ Her mind was busy with the problem as to whether she should invite Lyle Cunningham into the house or not. Then she decided to leave the matter in his hands because, after all, he apparently knew Laney and Pete well enough to make his own decisions on this point.
‘Someone will pick you up here,’ he was saying, ‘the day after tomorrow. Eight-ish will be plenty of time. If you run into any tangles phone me.’
‘Thank you.’ She held her breath while he leaned over and opened the door for her.
Out in the sunshine she stooped and said, through the open window,
‘Well, goodbye.’
‘I’ll be seeing you,’ he smiled at her. ‘Be good, Michelle.’
She lifted a hand. ‘I will.’
Laney was working on accounts. ‘It’s enough to drive me up the wall,’
she said, looking up as Michelle came into the room. ‘This trying to make ends meet is too bad. Into the bargain, Pete and I acted like a couple of fools and borrowed quite a sum of money which we have to pay back. At the time, the offer was like a miracle, but now…’ she shrugged and broke off, ‘I find myself wondering. Some time before you came, we actually had the farm on the market and then it was such a suggestion of defeat that we withdrew it. Now we’re bat
tling again. I’m sorry we bought these curtains, which at the time seemed like a reasonable idea.’ Laney glanced round the room. ‘You see, the accounts have just come in.’ She turned to Michelle and laughed lightly, but her eyes were serious.
Michelle gazed round the room. ‘The curtains are beautiful, Laney.
I’m sure that in the end you won’t regret your decision - once they’re paid off, I mean.’ This was the one room in the house where considerable money had been spent and the curtains, which hung from rods with spear-heads at either end, were lined. They went well with the wooden ceiling, being oatmeal-coloured with large bronze and blue flowers. Money had also been spent on the off-white sofa and chairs.
‘I had all sorts of schemes, when we bought this place,’ Laney undid the slide in her blonde hair. ‘Anyway,’ she slid the clasp back into position and shook back her hair, ‘let me stuff these accounts away.
How did you get on with Cunningham Senior?’
‘You know, Laney, it’s strange that you should call him Cunningham Senior, because that’s exactly how I found myself thinking of Lyle’s father.’
‘Lyle is very like him, don’t you think?’ Laney shoved a drawer into place.
‘Yes,’ Michelle began straightening the scatter cushions which were made of the same material as the curtains and highlighted with white fringing, ‘I do, as a matter of fact. I got on very well with him, actually. I’m to start the day after tomorrow. What a cute little salon.
Have you seen it, Laney?’
‘Yes, I have. You’ll be entirely your own boss there.’
Michelle felt a sudden surge of guilt. ‘Laney, are you sure you feel better? My main reason, after all, was to be here to help you over this bad spell - quite apart from wanting to see you both.’
‘I feel such a fraud for writing you all those complaining letters,’ said Laney. ‘I feel so well now. I can see, though, what you mean about availing yourself of the opportunity to work. It seems too good to be true.’