The Blue Mountains of Kabuta

by Hilary Wilde

  He bent and kissed her, very gently. Then he was gone and she could hear the bath running and him whistling.

  She sat very still for a moment, then stood up. Somehow she moved, forcing her limbs to obey, going to the linen cupboard, then taking the linen to the guest room, making up the bed, letting the dogs out for a last-minute run.

  The rain was still teeming down, a curtain of grey water. She went to her bedroom, closed the door, and went to the mirror to gaze at herself.

  Her eyes looked worriedly back at her.

  It can't be true,' she whispered. It just can't be

  true.'

  But it was. She knew it was. Much later that night as she lay awake, no longer afraid of the thunder or of the bright white light that filled the room at intervals, no longer aware of anything except the truth.

  The truth ? That she was in love. In love with a man who saw her only as little Jon ', the niece of his best friend.

  In love with Alex.

  CHAPTER V

  When Jon awoke, the sun was streaming into her room. She sat up quickly and Rex moved to her side to lick her hand.

  ' The wonderful thing about this country, Rex,' Jon said sleepily, ' is that even though it can rain like mad, you know the sun will shine.' She yawned happily, stretching her arms, and then, quite suddenly, she stiffened as she remembered !

  Alex !

  Her mouth was dry, her throat seemed to close so that, for a moment, she could hardly breathe.

  Alex. He was here. He had been for the night and she had just discovered that she loved him, more than she had ever believed it possible to love. It couldn't be true ! It mustn't. It only made everything even more complicated than before.

  She slid out of bed, hurriedly pulling on jeans and a white shirt, then quietly opened her bedroom door. Now she must watch her every thought, be on guard against the chance of betraying her secret. Whatever happened, Alex must never know.

  From her bedroom doorway, she could see the guest room. The door stood open. The bed was covered with the bedspread. The room looked as it always did, as if it had never been slept in. In the bathroom, she glanced into the linen basket. The sheets were there, and two pillow-slips, awaiting the wash-girl. Jon looked at her watch. It was barely six o'clock. Alex must have risen early and gone off so quietly that she didn't hear him

  She looked out of the window. How pathetic the garden looked as a result of the storm. There were so many flowers beaten to the ground. Deep runnels were carved into the soft muddy soil. The trees were bent, some of the branches broken off, and the blue petals of

  the jacaranda flowers lined the ground. But, she reminded herself, the sun still shone !

  Walking with the dogs, she found the track was deep in mud, but she hardly noticed it, for she had too much to think about. What was love ? she asked herself. How could she love a man she didn't understand ? Alex had so many different facets to his character. Like the night before when he had been so understanding, considerate and gentle. Yet at other times he could hurt her with his sarcastic patronage, his refusal to treat her as an adult. It was so odd how quickly his nature could change. One moment he could be kind and the next cruel.

  She bent and picked up part of a root, tossing it in the air for the dogs to run after. This time, as she stopped, Jock the spaniel looked up at her and wagged his tail. For a moment the tears were near as she gratefully patted him. At least there was one thing; Jock was starting to accept her. It was just as Alex had promised: ' Give Jock time and he'll let you replace Uncle Ned in his old dog's heart.'

  Jon caught her breath. The painful truth of understanding shot through her. Never, but never, could she hope to have a place in Alex's heart. She would always be, to him, Uncle Ned's little Jon. Never, but never, would he see her as a woman, capable of love.

  Despite the dogs' reproachful looks, she turned, back and slowly walked up the track towards the house. Suppose, just suppose, Alex was in love with her mother ?

  How, Jon asked herself, how could she endure it ? Dancing at their wedding ? Perhaps even sharing a home with them ?

  No . . . no . . . no . . . !

  She found herself running, the dogs, all save old Jock, were having a whale of a time, jumping round her, barking with glee. But Jon was not running for glee —she was trying to escape from the horror of the thought she'd had. The intolerable, unbearable horror—living under the same roof as Alex, loving him and knowing

  he saw her as a stepchild !

  If that happened, Jon told herself, she would sell the farm. But not to Alex, because she knew that she could never forget Uncle Ned's letter and his last wish. If she was unhappy, she could sell the farm—but never to Alex.

  Soon after breakfast Madeleine phoned.

  ' Are you all right, Jon ? ' she asked considerately. It was a nasty storm last night. I hope your mother wasn't too scared ? I know how she hates storms.'

  She didn't seem to mind,' Jon said simply. Did Madeleine know that Alex had spent the night in the guest room ? Had he told her ?

  Did you have much damage done ? '

  ' The garden looks rather pathetic,' Jon admitted.

  ' You are coming tonight, aren't you ? ' Madeleine asked.

  Jon hesitated, for she had not seen her mother to ask her, but Alex had said she'd seemed pleased.

  Yes, thanks,' Jon said, and wondered how she could end the conversation.

  After a seemingly endless period of time during which Jon waited expectantly for Madeleine to tease her about being scared of storms and needing a man's shoulder to lean on, it came to an end and at last, sighing with relief, Jon could hang up.

  Almost immediately the phone bell rang again. This time it was her mother.

  Darling, the river is going down, but they don't think it's going to be all right until much later, so don't expect me home until after tea. What time are we supposed to be at the Foxes' ? '

  About seven, I think.'

  That's fine. It'll give me time to have a bath and change. We dress formally, I would imagine. I gather they're very wealthy people ? '

  Jon laughed, ' I honestly don't know, Mum, but I'll find out.'

  Good, darling. See you later. You are all right ?

  It was quite a storm. I thought of you all alone in that isolated little house.'

  Jon's mouth twisted wryly. ' I had the dogs, Mum.' I know, dear, but the lightning . . . Anyhow, see you later.'

  Jon went and stood on the stoep. How quiet it was, she thought. The long day stretched ahead. After this rain, there would be no ploughing, that was for sure. She could hear distant chatter and laughter from the workers in the pineapple fields. She sat down. There was nothing to stop her from thinking . . . of Alex, of course. Who else ?

  She could hear the trees' leaves rustling in the gentle breeze and the chatter of the tiny brightly-coloured birds who hovered over each flower, thrusting deep long beaks in as they searched for pollen. It was amusing to hear the birds chattering. It was almost as if they were squabbling about their rights, perhaps accusing one bird of jumping the queue, and they were such lovely colours, gold, palest pink, some even green.

  How could she have been so daft, she asked herself, as to fall in love with a man like Alex ? How could she go on living here, seeing Alex every day, knowing she was a nuisance, that everyone was watching her, almost hungrily, to see how long she could last ? Why did they want her to fail ? Why did . .

  She sat up suddenly. She had forgotten about the advertisement she had put in the local newspaper. It would be published on Friday and .. .

  Sudden hope rushed through her. Once she had a good farm manager, she could ignore and avoid Alex. She might even manage to go away for a few months and leave her mother and Alex to make up their minds about the future. Could Alex be in love with her mother ? Or Mum with him ? Mum was a young forty-one. No one believed she was as old as that. She was very attractive, too. And Alex was thirty-five, so there was very little difference between them.


  Oh yes, Jon thought, suddenly remembering she had

  promised to find out about what clothes they should wear. She jumped up, hurried to the telephone.

  A strange husky voice answered. ' Madeleine's out, I'm afraid. I imagine she's with Alex, trailing around after him. She usually is.' The deep husky voice paused as she laughed, That girl will never grow up ! The best way to lose a man is to chase him. Can I give her a message ? '

  Jon felt uncomfortable as she listened. Who was this—speaking so nastily about Madeleine ?

  I'm Jon Hampton,' she said. ' We've been invited to dinner and . . . '

  You're little Jon ? ' The husky voice sounded even more amused. I've been wanting to meet you. I hear so much about you. Yes, we're expecting you and your mother tonight. I'm Mrs Fox.'

  Madeleine's mother ? '

  There was another husky chuckle. 'No, her stepmother. I'm exactly two years older than Madeleine.'

  Oh ! ' Jon's face burned. I'm sorry, I didn't . . . '

  Mrs Fox laughed. Don't be. How were you to know ? Anyhow, once we meet, you'll know you could never have made that mistake when you had seen me Now, what was it you wanted to know ? The time ? About seven. We're not a very punctual family, I'm afraid.'

  I . . . we . . . Well, we're new here as you know, Mrs Fox,' said Jon, feeling and sounding awkward. ' Is it formal ? I mean, do we . . . '

  Dress up ? ' Mrs Fox chuckled. Depends on how you feel. Sometimes I wear jeans, other times a long gown. Madeleine will be dressed up, you can be sure of that, if Alex is coming. Dear sweet Alex ! ' Mrs Fox chuckled. Have you fallen in love with him, too ? '

  Jon's face was bright red. How she wished she'd never phoned Madeleine's home She managed a laugh.

  I suppose he is attractive, if you like that sort of

  rugged ugliness.'

  Mrs Fox's laughter rang out. ' How lovely ! You're so right—rugged ugliness, that describes Alex perfectly. I gather you left your heart behind on England's gloomy cold shores ? '

  Jon clutched at the unexpected straw. ' Yes, I did.'

  Mrs Fox chuckled. ' Maybe it's just as well. Wherever Alex goes, he leaves a trail of broken hearts. I think he enjoys it, likes to see how many of us he can hurt.' Her voice was bitter. ' Well, little Jon, we'll see you tonight ? Good. Goodbye.'

  Jon replaced the receiver with a sigh of relief. But she knew one thing. She had no desire to go to Pumula that night, or any other night. Alex would be there, too.

  Could she look at him ? talk to him ? receive with dignity his teasing ? Could she do all this without betraying the truth ?

  She went out on to the stoep. It was still quiet. The lovely mountains in the distance were bright with but few shadows, for the sky was blue, with few clouds, and the sun hot. How beautiful it .. .

  Suddenly she wanted to cry. She stood very still, biting her lower lip, clenching her hands, fighting the desire to weep. If her mother saw her with red eyes .. . worse still, if Alex did !

  ' Why, Uncle Ned, when you gave me such a lovely gift, has everything to go wrong ? ' she asked silently. I ought to be the happiest girl in the world, and instead I'm so miserable. I feel caught, I want to get away, right away, back to my safe little world with an interesting job and . . . '

  She walked up and down the stoep restlessly. Even though the blue mountains of Kabuta were not hers, as Alex had sarcastically pointed out, the view of them was, and that should be enough.

  Just look at the garden—despite the night of destruction. Look at that beautiful tree, the trunk so straight, almost arrogantly so, with branches growing out at

  equal angles, as if designed by some famous architect. Everything was so lovely—the large green lawn, the frangipanis with their pretty pink fragrant flowers, the cannas with their gay yellows and reds, the huge dark red dahlias, their buds just opened. It was all so lovely and it was all hers, given to her by Uncle Ned who had loved Jabula and known she would love it, too. Was she going to give up all this simply because she loved a man who saw her as a girl of fourteen ? Other people had broken hearts and survived. Why couldn't she ?

  She drew a long deep breath. No, she would not sell the farm. Somehow she would find a really good farm manager and .. .

  ' I'll give you a penny for them,' a deep familiar voice said. Jon swung round, startled to see Alex in the doorway to the house.

  I didn't hear you come in,' she said almost accusingly.

  I came in through the back. Your induna sent me a message as one of the tractors is giving trouble. By the way, I asked Violet to make us some coffee. Okay ? '

  Of course.' She sat down. Sit . . . ' she began, but Alex had already done so, stretching out his long legs as he smiled at her.

  Sleep well ? '

  She nodded, clenching her hands, trying to keep her voice even, to avoid looking directly at him. Yes, thanks to you. It was good of you, Alex.'

  He laughed, Simply self-preservation. It saved me from getting wet on the way home. Did you hear me leave ? '

  Her mouth was suddenly dry. So he had stayed with a selfish motive ? Not to protect her, to give her a feeling of confidence in the storm because she had a companion, as she had thought.

  ' No,' she said curtly.

  The coffee came and Alex poured it out. Sugar ? ' he asked casually, and she knew a moment of swift anger. What right had he to act in this house as if it was his home ? Then she thought again. He and

  Uncle Ned had been so close, and he had looked on Uncle Ned as a father.

  But it was never going to be his real home. As Uncle Ned wished, .. .

  She glanced at her wrist and her thoughts skidded to a standstill as she saw the small red thing, stuck in her skin just above her wrist.

  It could only be a tick—and Madeleine had warned her about them.

  ' Look ' Jon held out her arm in dismay and Alex was on his feet instantly, taking her arm in his hand.

  ' Panic over,' he said as he deftly removed the tick and turned away with it.

  Jon was shocked to find herself trembling. ' Madeleine said I I. . . I must pull the tick out slowly, making sure the head came, or it would . . . I mean the sore would turn septic and . . . and goodness knows what else.'

  Alex turned and sat down. ' Look, Jon, take everything Madeleine says with a pinch of salt. She'll twist anything. Not that I blame her. She's had ten years of what must be hell, ever since her mother died and her father remarried. Incidentally, and before I forget it, Jon, put vaseline on a tick if you're unhappy about pulling it out, then the tick will drop off in time.'

  Jon shuddered. Much as she loved this country, there were things in it that made her feel sick, just as there must be in every country of the world. Here it was the incessant war with the mosquitoes and now the ticks . . . She shivered. Alex's head was turned away as he drank his coffee and it gave her a chance to study each line of that rugged face, the small flat ears, the dimple in his chin, the way his hair was rumpled.

  Alex turned his head suddenly and caught her staring at him. Her cheeks were hot as she braced herself for his sarcastic comment. Why was she trembling ? she wondered. Was it the fright the tick had given her ? Or that strange electric feeling that had shot through her when he took her arm in his hand ?

  ' When do you expect your mother home ? ' Alex asked.

  The unexpected question, so different from what she had feared, jerked Jon back to her usual self-control. ' After tea.'

  ' Not until then ? ' He sounded disappointed, she thought, then he stood up. ' I must be off, but Jon, would you come up to the sanctuary this afternoon ? I've got visitors coming and I'd like you to play hostess. Besides, you've never been round the sanctuary and I'd like you to see it.' He laughed. Don't look so scared, little Jon. All you'll have to do is pour out the tea. See you about three ? Okay ? '

  She was puzzled. Why ask her when Madeleine was so handy ? Maybe she had something else to do ?

  I . . . ' She began, groping for a logical excuse, but Alex smiled at her.<
br />
  It was a new kind of smile, a different sort of smile, a smile that made her want to throw her arms round his neck.

  Thanks, Jon,' he said gently. I knew you wouldn't let me down.'

  And then he was gone. She stood very still as she stared after him. How could she bear it ? To be so near him and yet so far away.

  Jon dressed carefully that afternoon in a simple cream-coloured sheath frock. Her dark hair was brushed back from her high forehead and her eyes were wary though, as she drove through Alex's sanctuary, she kept telling herself there was nothing to worry about that afternoon. Alex would be too busy with his visitors to watch her critically. As he had said, all she had to do was pour out the tea !

  It was to turn out very differently. As she drove slowly along his winding earth road, she kept getting glimpses of monkeys swinging from the trees, a young giraffe running with his strange loping gait, an ostrich

  who stood in the middle of the road, blocking Jon's way and staring at the car with suspicion fora long time before, in the end, she turned away with disdain and Jon could drive on. As she came in sight of the house, a cloud of pale blue little birds flew up from the track in front of her.

  She had parked the car when Alex came to meet her. How attractive he looked ! His sun-bleached hair was still wet from a shower, his square face with the deep-set half-closed eyes and his square chin with the cleft in it that sometimes looked like a dimple. Oh, she thought, unhappiness flooding her, if only she didn't love him so much !

  Good girl,' he said, looking her up and down appraisingly. Perfect. I like a woman to look like a woman. Feminine ! I also like her to be punctual, methodical and neat.'

  She was not sure if he was joking or serious, but somehow she found courage enough to make a joke of it.