by Wynne May
‘I can’t remember,’ she said.
‘Just take it easy. Relax. Of course you can, Michelle. Don’t let me down. What did Lyle have to say when you first met?’
‘I - I can’t,’ she murmured.
‘Well, what do you remember about him?’ Alex coughed. ‘Take your time. We all know you’re nervous.’ He grinned at the crowd, playing for time.
‘I remember his eyes,’ she said.
Alex looked relieved. ‘His eyes? Why, Michelle?’
‘Because they happen to be rather startling eyes - blue-green and very direct. I - I felt a shock at their - er - uncanny magnetism, actually.’
There was a murmur of approval from the audience. ‘His eyes,’ Alex was saying, ‘caused a shock to run down the length of your spine.
They were all you could think about. It’s not surprising you can’t remember what he said to you. I mean, let’s assume that you were introduced to him in a crowd - as it was a house-party. Right?’
‘That’s correct.’
‘But when you were alone? Can you remember what he said, Michelle?’
Laughing a little, Michelle said, ‘I can’t think what I’ve done to deserve this, but anyway, he said, you’re a long way from home. I’m trying to get to the bottom of this - are you here to settle? Something to this effect, anyway.’ She laughed again, to hide her embarrassment.
‘I see …’ Alex drawled. ‘Well now, we’re getting some place.’ He grinned at Michelle. ‘Okay, Michelle, now you stand right there and we’ll have Lyle in.’ He opened the heavy door and went through the foyer separating the lounge from the dining-room. ‘Lyle,’ Alex’s voice was loud, ‘you can come out of the dining-room now.’
A wave of embarrassment gripped Michelle as Alex said, ‘Now Lyle, you and Michelle met at a house-party, I believe. We’ve already asked Michelle what your first words to her were - after you and she found yourselves alone, that is, and she has told us. What we want to know from you, therefore, is what your first words to her were?’
Lyle regarded Alex with some amusement and then those blue-green eyes swung across to Michelle and one dark brow went up. ‘Can you remember?’ Alex asked.
‘Yes,’ Lyle’s eyes continued to hold Michelle’s, ‘I can remember, as a matter of fact. I said, and I quote, you’re a long way from home.’
‘What else?’ Alex asked, over and above the clapping from the audience.
Looking at Lyle, Michelle found herself thinking wildly that she had placed herself right into his hands.
Lyle paused for a moment, and then he said, ‘I think these were my exact words - I’m trying to get to the bottom of this - are you here to settle?’
There was more applause and laughter from the audience, louder this time.
‘You see,’ Alex was saying, pleased that things were going his way at last, ‘when two people meet they either click or they don’t.
Obviously, Michelle Abbott and Lyle Cunningham clicked first go.
Now, Lyle, I want you to go back in there and - believe me, ladies and gentlemen, it’s perfectly soundproof - and wait until we call you again.’
This time Michelle was asked, ‘Michelle, can you remember what you were wearing on the night you met Lyle for the first time?’
Michelle realized suddenly that her shoulders and neck were aching with tension.
‘Yes,’ there was more than a hint of impatience in her voice, ‘I can remember what I was wearing.’
‘Will you tell the audience, Michelle?’
She did her best to suppress her impatience. ‘I was wearing a floor-length gown - white and very plain.’
There was a burst of applause. People were beginning to loosen up.
Alex was grinning, showing the gap between his front two teeth, the tension easing its way out of him now.
‘And now we’ll have Lyle back in here and see what he has to say.’
Once again Lyle was called into the lounge and Michelle found herself catching her left wrist in her right hand, to stop it from shaking. How did I get involved in this? she thought angrily as she listened to Alex.
‘Lyle,’ he was saying, ‘can you remember what Michelle was wearing on that unforgettable night?’
‘Yes. Michelle was wearing white - something very plain, I remember.’
‘A short white dress?’ Alex asked. ‘Was she wearing a short white dress?’
‘It was floor-length,’ said Lyle.
‘But this is fantastic,’ Alex almost shouted. ‘And I can assure you, ladies and gentlemen, that it’s absolutely soundproof behind those doors.’
There were five more questions put to her and each one trivial but enough to give her away. Michelle was thankful when the ordeal came to an end.
When the game was over she left the lounge and went to stand on the terrace. She felt drained and empty. The silly little game had got out of hand, she thought. She had given so much away when all she should have done was to have treated the questions put to her by Alex lightly and with amused contempt.
‘Admiring the stars?’ She turned sharply as Lyle Cunningham joined her.
‘Yes. I was just leaving, though.’
‘I think we did rather well, don’t you?’ he asked. There was a certain enjoyment in his voice, she thought bitterly.
‘I played to help Alex out,’ she replied, after a moment. ‘It meant absolutely nothing.’
‘But you must admit the result was immediate and dramatic.’ His voice was cool now.
‘I wouldn’t say that. Frankly, it’s all rather stupid. For my own part, I merely joined in to help Alex out, as I’ve already explained. I guess somebody had to try and provide the laughs. Alex has been battling with this crowd for nights on end. They just wouldn’t loosen up. On the night of the dance most of them didn’t even dance. This seems to be one time when quite apart from the hotel not being fully booked, a crowd of people with no zest for anything except drinking, eating and sitting around has managed to get under the same roof at the same time - with devastating results.’
Now that the moment of discovering him beside her was over she felt comparatively in control of the situation.
‘Talking about eating,’ he said, ‘what’s the food like at the Sabaudia Restaurant?’
The question caught her off balance. ‘The Sabaudia Restaurant?’ she asked.
‘Yes. You should know - it’s practically your second home, isn’t it? I’m referring to Glen Hayes’ new project - the farm.’
After a moment she said, ‘Sarcasm comes so easily to you, doesn’t it?
But, to put your mind at rest, the food is out of this world - especially their desserts. I’ll be getting madly fat. You see, there’s always a wide choice - from an exciting concoction of golden sponge, cream and almond liqueur topped with tiny, tiny éclairs to freshly picked giant strawberries and wonderfully thick cream.’
‘All grown on the farm, naturally?’
‘Yes, naturally. You’d be interested in that, of course. I mean, that is what you wanted my brother’s farm for, wasn’t it? So that you could grow things to deep-freeze and to set up a nursery where you’d grow flowers to send off to florists all over the place?’ She took a shuddering little breath. ‘What a pity Glen Hayes and his partners got in first!’
‘You’re so right,’ he answered. ‘It is a pity. The position might well have been so much easier for your brother had there not been so much pride in the way. After Pete and Laney made the mistake of going back on their decision to sell Glen Hayes was being kept supplied with all the information he needed to set his mind working.’
Michelle did a rough calculation in her mind. ‘You speak as if you think 1 was the one to pass on that information. I’ve been here long enough, as it so happens, to do that, but I have never discussed these matters with Glen Hayes. I mean,’ she broke off and shrugged agitatedly, ‘why should I? I mean - my own brother’s affairs! How ridiculous can you get?’
‘Perhaps you were not aware that the
information I’m referring to concerned your brother,’ he said quietly, and she swung round to face him.
‘What are you trying to say?’ Her voice rose a little. ‘I knew Pete and Laney had put the farm up for sale and then withdrew it from the market. They accepted a loan, instead - to try and get them back on their feet. A loan which was to bind them - because they’ll either have to scrape the money together in order to repay it or they will have to sell the farm in the long run, won’t they?’ Her voice was accusing.
‘You tell me,’ he answered, and his voice was hard. ‘You seem to know all about it, Michelle?’
‘Oh, no. That’s where you’re so wrong,’ she told him. ‘I do know where the loan came from, but there’s so much I don’t know, believe me.’
‘Suppose you ask Pete and Laney about it?’
‘And suppose,’ she went on, ‘you ask Liza Monatti how certain information could have got into Glen’s hands?’
There was the faintest hesitation, then he said, ‘Perhaps now is the time, Michelle, to let you know that Liza has mentioned that you’ve been in the habit of discussing hotel affairs on the phone with Glen Hayes. Not that this matters very much. He probably would have found things out for himself, had you not been willing to supply him with the necessary facts.’
She was stunned. ‘It’s not true - and you should know it. How can you begin to think these things of me?’
‘Why not? You seem to have me pretty well weighed up. You’ve never stopped to think, have you?’ She knew his blue-green eyes were angry.
‘I could ask you the same question. Have you stopped to think about me?’ She felt herself begin to shake.
‘More than you’d believe,’ he told her, ‘but there’s a limit to how far you can go.’
‘Well, that could be a good thing.’ Michelle wished she could stop shaking. ‘Perhaps now you’ll leave me to get on with my own affairs?’
‘I think we can arrange that, Michelle. In any case, I’m not in a position to stop you from seeing Glen Hayes - but maybe, just maybe, you’ll come to see things as they really are one of these days.’
‘I already know how things are - and you’re right about Glen Hayes.
I’m seeing him tomorrow, as it so happens. I’m going up the Pass with him - and I intend to go on seeing him.’
It was a moment before he answered. ‘Feel perfectly free. That doesn’t concern me - not any more.’
Michelle watched him as he turned and left her, then her eyes changed swiftly as she put her teeth down on her lip and began to cry softly.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘I’VE brought the food,’ said Glen the next day, glancing over his shoulder into the back of the Land-Rover, ‘and the drink.’
Michelle felt as though she had fallen headfirst into a trap. ‘You aren’t going to drink, are you? Not on this kind of trip?’
‘We’re both going to celebrate,’ Glen replied.
‘It would be madness!’ Michelle took a breath. ‘Perhaps you can see some humour in turning a dangerous trip up the Pass into a drinking session, Glen, but I’m afraid I can’t.’
They were hitting the corrugations now, and the dust was flying in all directions. Glen was engaged in busy and constant gear work. In the distance, the mountains were blue with patches of snow in the cold, dark crevices. It was not as hot as it had been during the past two weeks and at ten o’clock in the morning the air was balmy.
‘I’ve brought something to drink for on the way up,’ Glen was almost shouting to make himself heard. ‘So what’s wrong in that?’
Although the Land-Rover was comparatively new it had been driven up the Pass a number of times and already there were rattles. Glen appeared to be handling the vehicle badly, Michelle thought.
‘I see,’ she answered and, incredibly detached now, she did see. She was suddenly detached because she was here and Glen was going to drink; she was going to be nervous, but there was nothing she could do about it now that they were on their way. Knowing Glen as she did, she knew that he could turn nasty over the least thing and if she said anything more he would only end up drinking more than he had originally intended.
Had she forgotten this awful - and yet incredibly wonderful - drive she asked herself. Had she forgotten how nervous she had been with an expert like Lyle Cunningham behind the wheel? Something told her that there was no expert skill in the manner in which Glen was handling his Land-Rover. He might be able to handle a low-slung sports car, she thought, but this was not the same thing. Into the bargain, he intended drinking. What a fool she had been!
From the beginning, right before starting on the laborious climb, the bends were hairpin and hair-raising. How could I have forgotten? she asked herself.
The Land-Rover broadsided around them, sending up stones and dust.
‘Glen,’ she said, above the noise, ‘why don’t you hoot at the bends?’
Glancing carelessly in her direction, he said, ‘Why? Why hoot, Michelle? This isn’t exactly a freeway, you know.’
‘No, but had you thought - there could be a vehicle coming down?
Don’t you see? And you wouldn’t know until it was too late. If you hooted first an oncoming vehicle could move over or stop or hoot back - or something - anything, and you could pass without danger.’
Laughing, he said, ‘Let him do the hooting, then. You’re in a disgusting mood, Michelle, do you know that?’
‘I’m not in a disgusting mood, but I’ll tell you something, Glen, I’m getting there.’
‘Forget it,’ he told her. Turning away from him, she tried to concentrate on the sight of proteas clinging to the mountain sides, the rockfall which Lyle had pointed out… The sight of the cab of the truck which had been flattened in its path filled her with fresh fear.
Scarlet flowers raced past, the dust obscuring them. They had caught up to another vehicle and Glen braked suddenly and then accelerated again. The Land-Rover in front of them was packed with Basotho men, wearing blankets and mealie-straw hats, looped at the top.
The dust from the vehicle was smothering and Glen pulled into the side of the road and switched off the engine. ‘Let them get on ahead,’
he said, ‘before we suffocate in their dust.’
Another vehicle was groaning and protesting as it approached, from behind, and then, with nothing to spare, passed them. ‘They’re taking beans up,’ said Glen. ‘Provisions,’
‘I see.’ Michelle sat back, but there was no relaxation in the movement. The groaning of the vehicles as they climbed on ahead could still be heard although they had disappeared from sight, obscured by the winding Pass.
With a sudden movement Glen slipped across the wide seat and Michelle caught her breath as his arms closed about her. ‘Glen,’ she said quickly, ‘please don’t.’
‘Why?’ His mouth was close to her own. ‘Tell me why I shouldn’t, Michelle. Just give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.’
‘You know the reason,’ she said. ‘I’m not in love with you. I’ve told you that before today.’
‘I don’t believe you. You wouldn’t go on seeing me if you weren’t.’
His was a handsome and yet a weak face, Michelle thought, and the thick, rimmed glasses did nothing to strengthen it.
‘Do people have to be in love before they can spend time together?’ she asked, while a kind of panic gripped her.
‘I think so,’ he answered. ‘At any rate, there has to be some attraction.
In any case, I’m in no hurry, Michelle.’
She cleared her throat and moved restlessly in the circle of his arms.
‘I think we should turn back,’ she said. ‘It would be better all round if we turned back now. Don’t you agree with me?’
Suddenly he released her. ‘No, I don’t agree, and we aren’t going to turn back. You’re giving me a hard time, but in any case, forget it, There, that ought to make your day.’ His laugh was sarcastic.
‘I was thinking,’ she tried to keep her voice re
asonable, ‘it’s getting awfully cloudy up there.’ Her eyes went in the direction of the beautiful if barren valleys, the distant horizons of Lesotho. ‘And you know what they say, Glen…’
‘No. What do they say?’ He opened the door and got out and stood looking up at her. Before she was able to reply he went to the back of the Land-Rover and opened the doors and took out a hamper. ‘I think a drink is called for,’ he called out cheerfully. ‘Might as well let those vehicles get well ahead. We don’t want to swallow their dust all the way. I mean, that should make sense.’
Turning in her seat in order to see him, Michelle said, ‘They say thunderstorms occur roughly every two days out of three.’ Moodily she watched him as he put the hamper back on the floor of the Land-Rover, then he climbed in and sat on one of the side seats at the back.
He bent over, unfastening the clasp of the picnic hamper, and took out a bottle and two mineral bottles. Then he reached for a vacuum which was packed with ice. ‘The weather is super,’ he said, ‘now let’s stop worrying, shall we?’ He gave her a mocking glance.
‘Just pour me a mineral.’ She sat quietly in her little pool of resentment and looked at him. ‘I don’t care for anything stronger. At any rate, not so early in the morning.’ She forced herself to smile.
‘Well,’ he shrugged elaborately, ‘have it your own sweet way, but I’m out to enjoy myself and I’m having something just a little bit stronger than mineral water, let me make that perfectly clear.’ He regarded her with half-closed eyes and an amused smile. A moment later he handed her a glass, sparkling with ginger-ale. ‘Cheers,’ he said.
She reached over and took the glass from him. ‘Thank you.’
There were cooling-off noises coming from the Land-Rover. ‘Do you want anything to eat?’ Glen said.
‘No, thank you.’ She tried to sound pleasant. Perhaps it would be all right, she thought. Perhaps she was worrying for nothing. So far as his advances were concerned, it had always been all right up to now.
She had always managed him. But, a little voice whispered, there could be a turning point.
Glen finished his drink and, much to her relief, did not pour another.