by Wynne May
‘Don’t get uptight with me, Michelle. I’m just trying to put you in the picture.’
‘Thanks!’
‘He had some big scheme up his sleeve, but,’ he took his arm off the table and sat back, ‘it’s too late. So far as his little scheme is concerned, it’s too late now.’
‘I’m not sure I understand all this. What is it you’re trying to say?’ She regarded him with troubled eyes.
‘Do you know why I wanted that farm, Michelle?’
‘No.’
‘Well, do you know why he wanted it?’
‘Yes, I do, as a matter of fact.’
‘Why? Why did he want it? Tell me.’
‘I’m not prepared to tell you. I’m sorry,’ she answered, thinking about the deep-freezing project and remembering how reluctant Lyle had been to discuss it.
‘Well, you don’t have to tell me, as it so happens. I know about it.’ He lowered his voice confidentially. ‘He wanted to do very much what we’ve done here.’ Glen’s gesture took in die entire room.
Across the small table Michelle blinked in puzzlement. She had visited this farm before - several times, in fact, with Glen - for dinner.
She had understood that it belonged to the people who were managing it - the middle-aged Italian couple Glen had pointed out to her on the day of the filming for the wine people. Glen had told her that the farm had only recently changed hands and that the home had been opened to the public as an exclusive restaurant.
A corrugated road led to the farmhouse which, with its stark white walls and tall chimneys, looked like a picture postcard of a scene in the English countryside, not a restaurant in the Drakensberg Mountains.
Glen had even gone so far as to inform her that the farm was fast earning a reputation as ‘fabulous and unique.’ It was only three hours by car from Durban, via Pietermaritzburg, and with people as they were, thinking nothing of spending a week-end at the Berg, either at the chalets or caravan sites, there would be no need to wonder whether the project would pay. In fact, it was going to pay - all the signs were there, after only two months.
The farm, Michelle knew, welcomed visitors of discerning taste. It was not advertised, and yet already the visitors’ book read like the latest Who’s Who. The Italian couple prepared all the food themselves and their international menu, with an unmistakable Italian touch, was well on the way to becoming known by connoisseurs throughout the country.
She was aware, too, of the fact that vegetables were being grown. In fact, Glen had taken her on a tour of the extensive gardens and nursery. Long continental loaves of bread were being baked daily.
She had surmised that it was because of a close friendship with the Italians that Glen had felt free to show her over the huge kitchen, whereas, in fact, the entire project belonged to him - or rather to him and his partners, whoever they were. Chickens laid eggs and there was a supply of fresh cream and milk from the dairy. He had shown her that too. In fact, it had all been fun and she had enjoyed it tremendously. There was a comprehensive wine cellar, with row upon row of the finest South African and European wines and, air-conditioned and built of insulated concrete, the cellar kept them all at the correct temperature.
‘What are you trying to say?’ she shook her head in wonder. ‘Are you telling me that - this place is - yours?’
‘Mine - and two other chaps’.’
Suddenly she felt uneasy. ‘I see. I didn’t know, of course.’
‘Well, you know now.’ From behind the lenses his tawny eyes mocked her. He irritated her with his habit of rolling his tongue around the inside of his mouth, feeling for good in his teeth.
‘It’s all so simple,’ he was saying. ‘After a trip up the Pass in one of my Land-Rovers, my customers will be brought back here in the evening - at a price, of course, if they’re willing to pay, and I think they will be. For those who aren’t willing to pay,’ he shrugged easily,
‘well, they’ll be taken back to their chalets with the natty little kitchens where they can provide their own meal.’
‘I had no idea,’ she said again. ‘You’ve certainly been very busy.’ Her blue eyes roved about the intimate dining-room which was furnished with Italian furniture and set with fine linen, silver and crystal.
In the beautifully beamed lounge beyond, where guests could relax and have a drink, there were antiques and Persian rugs. During the day, or before sunset, there were splendid views of the mountains and, by night, a floodlit garden. There was also a swimming-pool.
‘So this is what Lyle Cunningham had in mind,’ said Glen, ‘so far as your brother’s farm was concerned. Anyway, I’m not worried about missing out on your brother’s farm. This one cropped up instead, and, if you won’t take it amiss, it is a far better one.’
Suddenly Michelle felt involved - as if she had been working hand in glove with Glen Hayes these last two months just by keeping company with him.
‘There seems to be dirty work going on all round, in all directions, doesn’t there?’ Her voice was hard. She went on, ‘It’s rather tragic, really, in this wonderful setting where everything else is so pure.’
‘Don’t get uptight, Michelle. I’m only telling you how it is. Take for instance this nursery business. I happen to know that Lyle Cunningham and Cunningham Senior had this same thing in mind.
They were going to hire the assistance of a nursery manager. They were going to build greenhouses, with motor-driven fans to keep them cool and thermostats to keep the temperature constant. Sorters were to do the picking and the sorting…’
‘What were they going to grow in the greenhouses?’ she asked, thinking of Pete’s farm as it could have been and as it was - nothing short of a failure.
Glen laughed softly. ‘Flowers, of course. What else? For dispatch to the florists in Pietermaritzburg, Durban - all over, in fact. But I think we’ve outsmarted the Cunninghams. Work has already started here.’
He moved his head in the direction of the huge glass windows. There was a gloating expression on his face.
‘Well,’ Michelle shrugged, ‘you’re sharp, all right.’ Her eyes rested on his handsome face. Then she turned for her mohair stole which was draped across the back of her chair. Glen came round and placed it about her shoulders.
‘Does Liza know about all this?’ She tilted her head to look up at him.
‘Aha… Liza. Now there’s a thing. Well, yes, Liza knows quite a bit about what goes on in these parts, as a matter of fact.’
‘Good for Liza!’
Ignoring the sarcasm in her voice, Glen put his tongue in his cheek.
He began to follow her from the dining-room. ‘Anyway,’ he said,
‘you’re still driving up the Pass with me, aren’t you? It’s time I christened one of the Land-Rovers. I tell you what, we’ll smash a bottle of champagne over the bonnet. How’s that?’
‘I don’t know,’ she answered shortly. ‘Somehow I find all this disconcerting.’
‘All what - disconcerting?’ he asked, and then, before she had time to reply to his question, they stopped to say good night to a bowing Gino and his wife Alida.
When they were outside, next to his car, Glen asked, ‘What is all this about finding things disconcerting?’ As usual, he had been drinking too much.
‘Oh …’ her voice was bitter, ‘the story of the farms. After all, my brother happens to be involved, to an extent. He’s practically finished, from what I’ve heard, and the vultures are sitting on the fence, waiting. Window-shopping, if you like.’ Her voice broke a little. The man she was in love with was also sitting on that fence.
‘My war is with the Cunninghams,’ said Glen. ‘I hardly know your brother and his wife.’
‘Why are you at war with the Cunninghams? Just because they happened to get in first and buy the hotel from under your nose?’
‘You’re missing the point,’ Glen sounded aggressive now. ‘I’m a businessman.’
Starlight gilded Michelle’s face. ‘Hasn’t it struck you, Gl
en, that you might have bitten off more than you can chew?’ she asked.
‘I don’t think along those lines.’
‘When I think of what’s been going on behind my brother’s back I could be sick,’ she murmured, getting into the car.
Glen got in on the other side and slammed the door closed. ‘Let’s not get touchy,’ he said carelessly. ‘I’ve only done what Lyle Cunningham had in mind. My partners and I happened to be in luck. When this place,’ he waved a hand, ‘came on the market it was already built up -
just had to be taken over and utilized. Not like your brother’s farm - a white elephant which had to be changed into something worth while.
Even if the Cunninghams had bought it they would virtually have had to start from scratch to get anywhere.’
‘You must feel pretty good, Glen.’ Michelle’s voice was deceptively soft.
‘Yeah, I do, as a matter of fact - but then I always do. Besides, who doesn’t like money? And in order to have money you’ve got to make money. It’s as simple as that. And in order to make money, you’ve got to be on the ball. Money doesn’t just fall into your lap. You’ve got to work … and I’m prepared to work - a point.’ He laughed lightly.
‘I haven’t seen you work very hard - not like Pete, my brother. You should see his hands - and Laney’s, for that matter.’ Michelle’s voice was bitter. ‘Even the Cunninghams. They’ve worked to get where they are. Lyle … apart from the hotel there’s Little Switzerland Motors, and often he drives people up the Pass himself…’
They drove in silence until the lights of the hotel began to show.
Glen drove through the entrance and brought the car to a halt at the steps. He leaned over to open the door on Michelle’s side. ‘I’ll phone you,’ he said, ‘about going up the Pass.’
‘I’ll have to think about it,’ she told him. ‘After all, it does happen to be a nerve-racking experience, and I’ve already been up.’
‘You promised.’ His voice was mocking and accusing at the same time.
‘Yes, I know.’
‘Well? So - I’ll phone you, Michelle.’
The hotel was completely booked up and Michelle was busy in the days to come, with little time to spare for helping out at the desk.
Twice, however, she drove to the farm to have dinner with Pete and Laney and she told them about Glen’s farm which was, in fact, a restaurant, and about the nursery.
There was a strange silence, then Pete said, ‘We’ve heard something about it, as a matter of fact. It’s not advertised, of course, and yet it’s drawing tourists. Actually,’ he cleared his throat, ‘there was interest shown in this place, for the very same reason - or rather, from the nursery point of view, not the restaurant.’
‘Was the interest shown by Glen Hayes?’ Michelle felt mean for trying to draw Pete and Laney out to talk about their problems, but she wanted to get to the bottom of everything.
‘No, not Hayes. I mean the interest shown to us personally was not by Hayes. I learned afterwards from the agents that he was also interested in buying the farm. There was someone else …’ He broke off. ‘Anyway, we took it off the market and tried to make another go of it. We borrowed some money… the next best thing.’
‘I sometimes think we made a mistake,’ said Laney. ‘We should have sold and given up the responsibility, when we had the opportunity.’
‘I didn’t come out here to buy a farm to work for a boss,’ Pete cut in. ‘I bought a farm to make a go of it and to be my own boss. I don’t mean to accept defeat.’
‘Now you’re twisting things,’ Laney sounded faintly annoyed. ‘It wouldn’t have been accepting defeat.’
‘To me it would have,’ Pete ran bronzed fingers through his fair hair,
‘at the time. Now that you’re pregnant I guess it’s different. I might have considered it. I can’t expect you to go on putting up with all this worry.’
‘If only you’d told me before, in your letters,’ Michelle said, ‘instead of after. I’d have let you have what money I could, instead of spending it to come here. It would have saved you from borrowing the money from him …’ she checked herself quickly. ‘I mean borrowing it from the person who …’
‘It needn’t go on being a secret,’ Laney cut in. ‘It was Lyle Cunningham, Michelle.’
Michelle felt suddenly sick. ‘Had I known,’ she said, ‘I’d never have bought the Mini. I’d have let you have what I could towards paying him back.’ He made sure he had us all tied up, she was thinking bitterly. Pete, Laney and me.
‘All that’s being taken care of,’ said Pete, ‘and we’re paying it back -
slowly, but we’re paying it back. We shouldn’t have borrowed money in the first place.’
Laney was looking upset now. ‘Pete, you shouldn’t say that. The money was a godsend at the time, and you know it.’ Turning to Michelle, she said, ‘He didn’t want it back - Lyle Cunningham, I mean. He’s been marvellous, actually.’
No, thought Michelle. Lyle Cunningham hasn’t been marvellous. He wanted it over you.
‘Well,’ Pete shrugged, ‘we missed the boat and we’d better just make the best of it. It’ll take time, but we’ll manage. I didn’t want to involve Michelle in all this.’ He looked at Laney and his voice was accusing and, anxious to get off the subject, Michelle said, ‘Your dessert was super, Laney. That cream … umm!’
After a couple of weeks the hotel started emptying. It went like that -
depending on the weather, the school holidays … Michelle had time on her hands to help at the desk, although there was no urgency.
It was true, she found herself thinking, about what Laney had said. It was difficult to make permanent friends when you lived and worked at a hotel. People came and people went. Friendships were formed and friendships fizzled out. After all, one couldn’t keep up letter-writing with nothing much in common except a brief acquaintanceship at the hotel, indefinitely. Something had to give and so letters and letter-writing slackened away eventually to stop.
So it was that she found it difficult to keep on refusing Glen’s invitations to dine or to go for a drive or to see a film at the chalets.
He seemed quite unperturbed by Michelle’s aloofness, so far as his advances were concerned.
Although Glen’s Land-Rovers were now in operation up the Pass she had not driven up with him. It was common knowledge at this stage that his brochures were carefully worded so that the reader could be misled into believing that his vehicles were the only ones available to tourists.
Michelle was having dinner with Debbie one evening, when Alex Winters, who was responsible for the entertainment side of things in the hotel, came up to them. ‘Hello there. We’re having trouble getting people together for tonight’s Check Your Mate programme. How about taking part?’
‘This is a fine time to tell us,’ Debbie joked. ‘We both had a date.’
‘You both have one now. I want to see you both in the main lounge around eight. Right, Michelle?’
‘All right. It looks as if we don’t have much choice, doesn’t it? But what are we supposed to do, Alex? This is a game for married or engaged couples.’
‘We’ll find you both a mate, don’t worry.’ Alex lifted a hand and left them.
The hotel was blessed with a small crowd; most of the guests lethargic after a day of lounging in the sun on the terraces, their conversation punctuated by the clatter of teacups or the clinking of glasses and, so far as Alex Winters was concerned, the going was heavy as he tried to organize amusement.
Michelle was completely unprepared for the fact that she had been paired off with Lyle Cunningham, who apparently was spending the evening at the hotel. Up to now she had avoided him successfully, although she was always aware of him, always thinking about him and, like a fool, loving him.
When he saw her he gave her a mocking glance. ‘So Alex has paired us off? He’s having a thin time, apparently. They don’t even pretend to laugh at his jokes. He’s roped me in this even
ing into helping out.’
His blue-green eyes met hers.
‘I wouldn’t like his job,’ Michelle answered with a feeling of helplessness. ‘It must be difficult to arrange entertainment, unless there happens to be a film show, or dancing, and that takes care of things.’
‘All right, then,’ Alex was saying, embracing everyone in the lounge with his smile, ‘so we’re going to play Check your Mate and we are going to ask for volunteers… We already have four, as a matter of fact. Michelle Abbott here and - er - Lyle, who’s visiting us this evening. This is Debbie, as you all know, and Jake Gobbi. He drives people up the Pass when he’s not making passes at the girls.’ There was a small polite round of laughter. ‘I’m going to start with this foursome first,’ Alex continued, ‘but before we get going and to set the ball rolling I’d like all those volunteers to come up to the table here and sit down - ladies on this side, gentlemen on this. Right?’
With a feeling of helplessness Michelle listened to Alex as he tried to get things going, and it was with some relief that she heard him call upon Debbie and Jake first. This gave her the time she needed to calm herself in preparation for her part in the lounge game which, under different circumstances, could have been amusing.
Eventually Alex called upon her to answer the questions he had before him. ‘Michelle,’ his eyes were mocking, ‘it’s a fair assumption, I think, to say that you know Lyle rather well, although you’re not married to the guy, or engaged, for that matter. Right?’
She was standing next to Alex now. ‘Right.’ She hoped her voice sounded normal and smiled obligingly at the small crowd sitting at tables in the lounge. The waiters were hurrying about with trays, bearing glasses and drinks. Laughter was becoming a little more spontaneous. Lyle had been locked safely away behind the heavy doors which led to the foyer leading to the dining-room. He was well protected from eavesdropping.
‘No, Michelle,’ Alex laughed, ‘don’t try to run away. You met Lyle some time ago, at a house party, I believe?’
‘Yes.’ Her smile was tense.
‘Can you remember the very first words he spoke to you?’