by Anne Hampson
She sagged, aware of her mistake. Charles could not be blamed for misunderstanding, but at the same time she felt an unreasoning anger against him, and stronger than ever became her determination to persuade her stepfather to take her back to England with him.
Charles flew him in from Brisbane, where Austin had stayed a couple of nights with a friend. Tina could scarcely contain herself as she watched the clock and waited; Moira spent her time in making herself look pretty, and she stared on joining Tina, who was looking almost haggard.
‘You look awful,’ Moira said. ‘Why don’t you go and put some make-up on?’
‘What’s the use of make-up in a place like this?’ Tina had to say something in answer to her sister’s question—but what she did not say was that she had in fact used make-up, and most effectively, it would appear. The eye shadow, carefully applied beneath her eyes, had resulted in disfiguring black smudges which would be the first thing that would strike Austin. Her pallor, not due to any artifice on Tina’s part, would be the next thing to strike him. Her thinness, deliberately accentuated by the very tight-fitting sweater and pulled-in belt, her drawn expression—perfected only after a period of facial contortions before her mirror—the lankness of her hair ... all this must surely fill her father with anxiety and remorse. Glancing down at her hands, Tina allowed herself a satisfied smile. She had managed to do the gardening without being seen and, much as she had hated it, she had used her hands to smooth the soil, and had even plunged them into it, over and over again. The result was that in addition to the roughness, her hands had minor cuts, caused by sharp little pieces of rock or glass. The most insignificant of these cuts were covered with plasters, while those that looked really angry and sore were left for Austin to see.
‘You’ve never looked like this,’ said Moira, sitting down and frowning at her sister. ‘That black sweater never suited you. You said you were throwing it away.’
True, recalled Tina, but she was very glad she had kept it.
‘I felt a little cold today; that’s why I’ve got it on.’
‘Cold!’ Moira stared. The sun poured down, brilliant and hot. ‘Then there’s something wrong with you.’
Tina nodded, quivering her lips.
‘I’m of that opinion myself. I feel I'm going to be dreadfully ill, Moira. But I mustn’t let Father see, must I?’
Moira’s frown reappeared, and she seemed faintly anxious as she asked,
‘You actually feel ill?’
Tina looked down.
‘I haven’t been well for some time, you know that. If you remember, I’ve always been tired, and lacking in energy.’
‘Yes, that’s right, you have. But you told Charles you’d get used to the heat in time; he mentioned it to me.’
‘He did?’
‘We were chatting, and he remarked on your losing weight. He seemed worried, and I assured him that you’d adjust in time. He then made some casual remark about your having said the same thing.’ Casual remark. Had it been Moira who had been looking thin and worn then no doubt Charles would have been very worried indeed. Tina caught her lower lip between her teeth, hurt again, this time by the fact of his having passed a merely casual remark about her. At the time he had questioned her he had seemed exceedingly worried, and Tina recalled how, for some quite incomprehensible reason, this had afforded her a certain degree of pleasure. She had wanted him to worry about her. A sudden frown knit her wide brow. Why should this be? The question had been asked before, but now Tina felt more than a little disturbed by it. She was still puzzled and disturbed when, an hour later, Moira’s excited voice cut into her thoughts.
‘They’re here!’ Moira stood up as the plane was heard in the distance. Tina rose and moved to the edge of the patio, lifting her face and putting up a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun.
‘Father—’ She was full up, and actually felt the painful prick of tears behind her eyes. ‘Oh, Moira, I never knew until I came here just how much I loved him.’
‘We both loved him well enough when we were at home,’ in a light and careless voice as Moira also shaded her eyes from the sun. ‘I hope you’re not going to get soppy over him, Tina.’
‘I shall get soppy if I want. Why shouldn’t I let him see that I love him?’
‘No particular reason.’ Moira looked inquiringly at her. ‘You sound awfully cross with me.’
‘I’m sorry—’ What was happening between Moira and herself? wondered Tina with a small regretful sigh. They used to be close, good friends always ... but the life here, in this vast harsh country, seemed to have wrought a great change in them both. At one time, not so very long ago, they had so much in common—the parties and gay round, the dances and dinners and extravagant orgies of clothes-buying. Yes, they thought alike in most things, whereas now they seemed to have drifted apart, in some indefinable way, and the idea hurt Tina almost as greatly as Charles’s repeated unkindnesses hurt her. She sighed, even though her heart was racing in anticipation of the meeting soon to take place, sighed for a lost comradeship even while wondering whether the comradeship would have endured much longer, even had they not come out here to Charles’s cattle station. Somehow, Tina had a shrewd suspicion that it would not, since she herself now owned that the life they had led had in fact been useless, and as Charles’s derogatory comments came to her she admitted to their truth.
The plane circled several times before making a landing; it was a small blot in the vast landscape, out there on the airstrip, but the girls could plainly discern the Land-Rover which Oily had taken out earlier and which was now ready to bring Charles and his father to the homestead.
‘Father!’ Tina ran across the lawn as the Land-Rover stopped and Austin got out. ‘Oh, but it’s marvellous to see you!’ She was in his arms and he was kissing her, then he put an arm around Moira as she reached him. Looking into his eyes, Tina saw the anxiety there—and the dampness. His strong mouth was quivering and he seemed unable to articulate words. For a fleeting moment Tina’s thoughts switched to her mother, the lovely Janice, fair-haired and blue-eyed. Austin had loved her dearly, and Tina did sometimes wonder if he had ever really recovered from his loss.
‘My girls—’ He spoke at last, eyes searching, anxiously. ‘Moira, my love, you look as well and beautiful as ever.’ Relief in his voice. Tina saw at once that he had been terribly anxious about them and she had the grace to blush at the mendacity she was contemplating. ‘The life here obviously suits you,’ Austin added, kissing Moira’s cheek, but he was still overcome with emotion, and totally unconscious of his son, standing there, watching the scene with a faintly sardonic expression on his face.
‘It’s not at all bad, Father,’ she purred, slipping an arm through Austin’s as his embrace slackened. ‘Charles didn’t turn out to be such a hard taskmaster after all, did he, Tina?’
‘No—’ The subtle hesitancy was accompanied by a lowering of Tina’s eyes. ‘No, he—he didn’t—’ Huskiness in her voice was designed to draw attention to herself and lifting her head she was gratified to note the deep anxiety that now filled her father’s eyes.
‘Tina?’ He seemed appalled all at once as he searched her pale face, with its black smudges under the eyes and the tiny hollows in the cheeks. ‘My child ... you’re so thin—’ His glance swept over her black-clad body. ‘So pale and—and ill-looking,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Are you feeling all right, my dear?’ He had leant away and for one brief moment Tina was unable to resist a fluttering glance in Charles’s direction, as he stood there, to one side of the little group occupied in the reunion.
‘I’m not really ill, Father,’ replied Tina in somewhat faltering tones. ‘I’m thin, I know, but one perspires so very much—over there, in the kitchen—’
‘The kitchen?’ Austin’s eyes flitted to his son. ‘Is that where you’ve been working, all the time?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded and hoped the quivering smile appeared as forced as she meant it to be. ‘But don’t let
’s talk of such things, not when you’ve just arrived! And, darling, don’t look so troubled; I shall get used to the heat eventually, as I told Charles when he noticed my loss of weight.’ Turning her head to smile sweetly at Charles, she swiftly twisted round again on noting his expression, which although controlled did seem to denote an inner fury. ‘Come on in, Father, and have tea. Did you have a good journey? And how did you like flying with Charles?’ Like Moira, she tucked an arm into his, aware all the time of his deep anxiety as from time to time he glanced sideways at her as they strolled across the lawn towards the front verandah where the passion-fruit vine provided welcome coolness and shade. Austin spoke mechanically as he answered Tina’s questions, and made comments to Moira; his whole attention appeared to be on his younger stepdaughter, and it was she who took him up to his room. ‘Isn’t it nice, Father?’ She flung back the curtains which Elizabeth, the lubra, had earlier closed in order to keep out the sun. ‘Look at the view. The mountains! They change colour all the time, as the sun moves.’
‘Yes ... yes,’ abstractedly as he looked at her intently, now that they were alone in his room. Tina noted with satisfaction the clouding of his eyes as they moved, taking in every detail of her face before travelling downwards, over her body. Cautiously she acted, aware that Austin was no fool—although both she and Moira had once considered him so. That was before he had made that staggering decision of sending them out here to work for his son.
‘Shall I unpack for you, darling?’ The weariness of her voice could not be missed, but with what appeared to be a great effort Tina put a lightness into it, smiling at the same time, and making sure she did nothing which could provide her father with the slightest clue as to what she was up to. ‘How long are you staying? Oh, but I’ve missed you, terribly.’ She could have flicked away an imaginary tear, but refrained on recalling that such an action had not deceived Austin on a previous occasion.
‘I don’t know how long I’m staying.’ He took hold of her arms and stared again into her pallid face. ‘Tina, my love, are you sure you’re not ill?’
Her lashes came down; she opened her mouth, ready with some specious reply, but she hesitated a moment, guilt-stricken at causing anxiety to the man whom she so dearly loved. But all at once some urgent force seemed to be guiding her, warning her that she must fight to get her wish, that her aim to leave Farne River Downs must succeed. It registered that Charles’s differentiation between herself and Moira was one reason, but as yet the primary reason eluded her...
‘I must admit I’m not a hundred per cent fit,’ she murmured at last. ‘The heat is so dreadful—it’s the stove, you see, as we have to cook such enormous meals for the stockmen, and so it takes the whole of the morning, and part of the afternoon.’ A quivering smile broke as she looked up into his troubled eyes. ‘As I said, I’ll get used to it—’
‘You mentioned that Charles had noticed this loss of weight,’ he interrupted, releasing her and stepping back, as if to observe her better. ‘Did he not do anything about it? Surely he kept you out of the kitchen?’
‘Of course he did. Please don’t blame Charles. He was very troubled about me and said I must get better before you came. He didn’t want you to be worried, knowing how much you love both Moira and me.’ For an instant she saw a flicker in his eye and wondered rather fearfully if she had not been clever enough to hide her deception. She need not have worried; Austin was all concern again, shaking his head and frowning at some private thoughts of his own.
‘How long is it since you were working in the kitchen?’
‘Just a week.’
‘Moira—does she work in there?’
Tina shook her head, but asked once again if she could unpack for him, hoping her avoidance of his question would convey just what she meant it to convey—which it did, for Austin’s frown deepened and his voice had taken on a sharp edge when at length he spoke.
‘You needn’t shield my son, Tina. He always did have an eye to a pretty girl. Obviously he isn’t treating you both equally.’
Tina glanced up, and said with well-feigned reluctance,
‘He has never liked me, Father; you know that.’
Austin’s mouth tightened.
‘I didn’t send you out here to be a drudge while your sister took things easy! I meant you to work, naturally, since I had made the decision to force you both into a more realistic attitude to life, but this—’ He broke off, making a gesture of anger as his eyes roved once more over her. ‘You’re just a shadow of your former self. I would scarcely have known you. Those black rings under your eyes ... you look as if you haven’t slept for days.’
‘I have to be up so early—’A slight break in her voice, and then a sudden smile which was a mere affectation designed to deceive him. ‘But never mind me, darling! Tell me all about yourself! Did you miss us? And what have you been doing with yourself all this time?’
‘Did I miss you?’ Austin raised his brows, very much in the manner of his son. ‘You have no need to ask that, my child.’
She laughed, and tucked her arm into his, looking up into his eyes with a sideways glance, and fluttering her eyelashes.
‘I told you! I knew very well you’d be lonely.’ Lovingly she squeezed his arm. ‘I wish we hadn’t been so selfish, Father, and so ungrateful for all you did for us. I’ve made a solemn vow never to take it all for granted again—and also, I’m going to stay in with you more. We haven’t been very good children to you, but you’ll find a difference in us when we come back to you.’
His smile was just as affectionate as hers.
‘You speak for yourself, I presume, even though you appear to include Moira.’
‘She’s learned her lesson too.’
‘Perhaps.’ He became thoughtful for a space and then, ‘It isn’t gratitude I want, Tina, but just that you’ll be the sort of girls your mother would have wanted you to be. She was an angel ... so sweet and unselfish—Oh, I know that what you and Moira were becoming was due entirely to my own laxity and I’m blaming no one but myself.’ He glanced down at her, and his hand found hers. Making the most of this opportunity, Tina moved her fingers over his, so that the roughness should not escape him. He was saying, ‘I think that already the lesson has been learned—at least, in your case. With Moira—well, I shall soon know, once I’ve spoken with her.’ His attention arrested by his stepdaughter’s action, he stopped speaking rather abruptly, and frowned. ‘Your hands—’ He broke off, gasping as he saw the cuts, and the burn on her wrist. ‘Heavens, child, what have you been doing to your lovely hands!’
Her lower lip quivered most cleverly.
‘The—the rough work ... and this is a burn, from the hot fat. It splashed. My nails, of course, were soon broken. Charles thought...’ She tailed off, putting a finger to her mouth as if aware that she had allowed words to slip out which should have been kept back. ‘I should have put some plasters on these other cuts; they look so horrid.’
Drawing a sharp breath, Austin took hold of both her hands, frowning darkly as he examined them. She said she felt ashamed of her nails, and told him she had scrubbed them hard but the dirt underneath persisted. His mouth went tight as she spoke; he asked, after a long pause,
‘What were you going to say about Charles?’
‘It was nothing important—’
‘Tell me!’
‘I can’t, Father.’
Austin shifted his gaze from her hands to her face. ‘He thought you deserved to have hands like this?’
‘No,’ she had to reply, although reluctantly. ‘No, he never said anything like that.’
‘What did he think, then?’ Insistent the tone. Tina had on the rare occasion witnessed her father’s sternness and now she knew he was determined to have an answer. This she gave, her reluctance from the first having been assumed, since she wanted nothing more than to tell Austin that his son had been considerably amused by her broken nail. ‘I see—’ with a grating of Austin’s teeth. ‘It seems to me that t
he experiment has not been carried out in the way I meant it to be. I didn’t send you out here to become a little slave!’
‘Father!’ she exclaimed, feigning a shocked expression. ‘That isn’t fair to Charles.’
After another glance at her hands he let them drop to her sides.
‘It’s generous of you to make this effort to shield him, but I know that he can be a hard, unfeeling man—most certainly he’s been a hard taskmaster where you’re concerned. And not once have you complained in any of your letters to me. Why didn’t you, child?’
‘I wouldn’t dream of doing so—why, you’d have been so worried. Besides, I knew we were being taught a lesson, and I abided by this.’ Inwardly she was exultant. And for a fleeting moment a question hung on her lips. But she resisted the temptation of trying to discover whether or not Austin was thinking of taking her home with him. It would be more cautious to hold her tongue, she decided. Part of what she had said had been totally sincere, but by far the greater part had been deliberately calculated to imbue him with anxiety and remorse. She must take care that he never for one moment guessed at her deceit. So she changed the subject, telling him all about the life out here—the shed dances and other entertainments, like the film shows and gymkhanas and horse races, all of which the graziers arranged themselves. As she talked she unpacked Austin’s suitcases, putting his clothes in the wardrobe and the drawers. But she made sure not to display too much energy. That she was far removed from the vivacious girl of a short while ago must be apparent to her doting father, she decided, fluttering him a glance now and then and feeling more than a little satisfied with what she saw.
‘There! Do you want me to leave you now, darling?’
‘Please, dear. I’d like to take a bath.’
Tiptoeing up, she gave him a kiss, happy because of his presence and optimistic about his taking her with him when he left for England.