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Page 11

by Ria


  burning frustration behind those smouldering almond-coloured eyes. She

  could almost have felt sorry for her if it was not for the fact that Sybil was

  out to claim what she considered her private property, and she would make

  use of whatever method she could lay her hands on, Janey realised.

  Each time her eyes met Sybil's, it was like a clashing of wills, and the

  tension grew inside Janey at an incredible pace. When Rudolph finally

  announced that it was time they returned home, her teeth were clenched so

  tightly together that her jaw ached. The slow drive out to Houghton did not

  relieve the frightening tightness~at the pit of her stomach and when Rudolph

  eventually parked the car beneath the pergola in the driveway she was in a

  mood to do him a terrible injury without the slightest provocation.

  'Janey.' His fingers closed about her wrist as she was about to open the car

  door. 'We declared a cease-fire, remember?'

  She stared at him in the moonlit darkness, but could not read his

  expression as he raised her hand to his lips. Her pulse rate quickened

  alarmingly and, for fear of giving herself away, she wrenched her hand from

  his.

  'Don't do that!'

  'Have I offended you?'

  Was there a touch of remorse in his voice, she wondered during the starded

  silence, or was her imagination playing tricks on her?

  'I'm sorry, Rudolph,' she whispered haltingly. 'I think I must be tired.'

  He nodded briefly and, moments later, they entered the silent house,

  making their way up the stairs to their respective bedrooms. He hesitated at

  her door as if with indecision, and her heart leapt " to her throat.

  'Thank you for inviting me to have dinner with you this evening,' the

  words rushed from her. 'Goodnight, Rudolph.'

  'Goodnight, Janey,' he echoed mockingly as if he sensed her fear, then,

  turning on his heel, he entered his room and closed the door.

  Alone in her own room, Janey closed her eyes and felt her body shaking

  with tremors as the tension uncoiled within her. What had she expected?

  That he would force himself upon her, demanding payment for his attentive-

  ness?

  'Oh, God,' she moaned softly, subsiding weakly on to her bed. 'What am I

  going to do?'

  She was afraid. Afraid of his nearness, his touch,*and his virile

  masculinity that still succeeded in leaving her defenceless and vulnerable.

  She'wanted his love, but she feared the consequences of her surrender. Could

  she risk the possibility of further pain?

  After her second week in Johannesburg, Janey settled down into a more

  relaxed routine. With Esme displaying a more than superficial warmth

  towards Andrew and herself, a comfortable friendship soon developed

  between them that alleviated much of die tension in the home.

  Rudolph played golf on Saturday afternoons, bringing Sybil to the house

  for a drink afterwards before he drove her home. Sybil's possessiveness

  annoyed Janey, but she hid her feelings with a grim determination. During

  the week Rudolph encased himself in his study most evenings, but he

  appeared to reserve Sundays for spending time with Andrew, either by

  romping on the lawn with him, or taking them into the country for a picnic.

  It never ceased to amaze her when he shed his image of severity to amuse a

  small child such as Andrew. He had a natural affinity with children, it

  seemed, for, in a relatively short space of time, he had captured Andrew's

  affection. Their relationship did not lack discipline, however, and one glance

  from Rudolph usually silenced his son's tantrums.

  His son! It was difficult for Janey to think of Rudolph as the father of her

  child when, for so long, she had shouldered the responsibility alone.

  Physically and mentally she and Rudolph were so far removed from each

  other that it seemed impossible to believe that they had once been close

  enough for Andrew to result from their relationship. It was a thought she

  seldom dwelt upon, for it brought with it a pain she had imagined forgotten.

  There was very little for her to do in this enormous house with its bevy of

  servants, and she found herself returning repeatedly to the room in the attic

  with its faded wallpaper and furnishings. The opportunity to question the

  family with regard to the mysterious portrait of the young woman had not

  arisen, and she found herself placing her own interpretation on its history.

  The woman in the portrait was the black sheep of the Brink family, locked

  away from society to die in poverty. It was ridiculous, of course, Janey told

  herself, but somehow exciting to conjure up a few villains in Rudolph's

  ancestry; villains with flaming hair and grey-green eyes who wrenched the

  hearts from unsuspecting maidens.

  The grey eyes in the portrait seemed to laugh at her foolish thoughts, and

  Janey had to admit that she was allowing her imagination to run wild. There

  was most probably a very simple explanation for this room being preserved

  as it was, an explanation she was bound to find

  totally without the romantic interludes she had imagined.

  This room, and everything about it, continued to haunt her, and yet she

  was almost reluctant to probe deeper. It would involve having to admit that

  she had trespassed beyond those heavy curtains concealing the entrance. The

  attic had become her retreat when things became unbearable, for an air of

  peace mingled with the sadness of her surroundings. It seemed to reach out

  to her, cloaking her in a mist of solemn tranquillity, while the threadbare

  carpet and the faded lace on the table reminded her of the home she had

  loved as a child.

  Janey sighed and rose to her feet, plumping up the cushions of the cane

  chair where she had sat dreaming away the time, and leaving the room

  exactly as she had found it before she joined Mrs Brink for tea in the living-

  room.

  'You're looking rather pale and sad, my dear,' Mrs Brink remarked,

  observing Janey closely. 'Is my grandson not well?'

  Janey's hands stilled for a moment over the tea-things as she smiled

  reassuringly at the older woman. 'There's nothing the matter with Andrew,

  Mother. Dora passed me in the hall when I came down, and he was

  demanding his tea in no uncertain terms.'

  'He's very like Rudolph was as a child, I notice. Obstinate and determined,

  driving you to distraction until you felt sure you'd have a seizure. Then,

  unexpectedly, he would disarm you with a beguiling smile, and your anger

  would evaporate like the morning mist.' She smiled reminiscently. 'I never

  could get the better of him.'

  'Your tea, Mother.'

  'Thank you, my dear,' Mrs Brink smiled faintly, taking her cup from Janey

  and stirring thoughtfully. 'I have a confession to make, my dear, and I'm

  finding it very difficult to do.'

  There was an unmistakable plea for understanding in

  the eyes that met Janey's. 'What is it, Mother?'

  'When Rudolph arrived home and announced that he was married, my

  immediate thoughts were most uncomplimentary, but the moment I saw

  Andrew I realised my error.' There was a guilty silence before she added:

  'I'm ashamed of myse
lf.'

  Janey could not find it in her heart to be angered by her confession,

  despite the trace of bitterness she experienced. 'I don't blame you for

  thinking I'd trapped your son into marriage.'

  'Trapped is a harsh word, Janey, but what exactly prevented you from

  marrying Rudolph two years ago?'

  Janey's hands shook a little, rattling the cup in its saucer. 'There were

  various reasons for the break in our relationship at the time, but I ... don't

  want to discuss it now, if you don't mind.'

  She felt the gentle pressure of Mrs Brink's hand on her arm, but found it

  difficult to meet the older woman's shrewd glance.

  'I shan't press you for an explanation, Janey,' she said softly, 'but I do

  know that your relationship with my son isn't all that it should be at the

  moment.'

  Janey raised her glance sharply, her heart leaping into her throat. 'What—

  what do you mean?'

  An apologetic smile flickered across Mrs Brink's face. 'I've seen the way

  you behave towards each other, and the servants do talk among themselves,

  my dear, of how the Master and his wife occupy separate bedrooms, and

  show no signs of living together as a husband and wife should.'

  It had been a mistake to underestimate her mother-in- law's powers of

  observation, and the natural ability of the servants to gossip, but neither she

  nor Rudolph had made any effort to hide the fact that they were married in

  name only.

  'Mother ... the two years of separation has left a cavity

  in our relationship. We need time to adjust...'

  'Nonsense,' Mrs Brink protested adamantly. ‘My husband was away for

  "almost three years during the last war, and we found no difficulty in

  continuing with our marriage where we'd left off.'

  'Perhaps,' Janey conceded firmly, 'but Rudolph and I didn't have the

  security of a marriage licence when we parted company.'

  'I suppose it does make a difference,' Mrs Brink agreed sadly, pouring

  herself another cup of tea.

  Janey rose to her feet and walked about restlessly, stopping for a

  moment beside the window to stare out on to the sweeping lawns bathed

  in sunlight, the scarlet roses climbing the pergola lending a vivid splash of

  colour to that part of the garden. A border of pale blue daisies was the »

  exact colour of the eyes in that mysterious portrait, she thought, losing

  interest suddenly in the colourful scene beyond the living-room window

  as she turned towards the woman seated on the elegantly carved chair.

  'Mother ... that room in the attic at the end of our passage,' she began,

  swallowing nervously at the dryness in her throat. 'The one with the heavy

  curtains concealing the door ...'

  'Don't go in there, my dear,' Mrs Brink warned swiftly, a glimmer of

  tears in her tired eyes. 'That room is filled with unhappy memories which

  I can seldom bear to talk about.'

  Janey stood for a moment, staring at the older woman uncertainly before

  relinquishing her desire to probe further. Whatever secrets were hidden

  behind that door, Mrs Brink was obviously not the one to question, she

  realised, disappointment filling her with a certain agitation.

  If Rudolph had not wanted her to enter that room, she felt sure that he

  would have said so, yet she could not help feeling guilty at trespassing

  into a room that obviously contained a family secret—a secret she was

  determined to unravel.

  Alison's letter arrived at the end of that week, and, slipping it into the pocket

  of her cotton frock, Janey escaped to the summer-house where she could

  read it in private. Seated on the wooden bench inside the spacious enclosure

  with the ivy creeper climbing up the rough bark of the outside wall, she tore

  open the envelope and extracted two sheets of the pale pink, scented paper

  Alison was so fond of using. It's scented with roses,' she recalled Alison

  saying once when she had teased her about it, 'and I use it only for those I

  care about.'

  Janey's vision clouded momentarily as she recalled the warm friendship

  she had shared with Alison during those trouble-free days at college, when

  her only problem had been not to waste the money her parents had spent on

  her. They had not suffered financially, for she had managed to repay them

  every cent they had spent on her, but the disgrace resulting from her

  foolishness had been a bitter reward for the faith they had had in her.

  Sighing heavily, she brought her thoughts back to the present and

  concentrated on Alison's somewhat, flowery handwriting.

  'Dear Janey,' her letter began, 'you haven't written since you left Cape

  Town, but I telephoned your mother and she gave me your address. I do

  hope you've sorted out your problems with Rudolph and that you've found

  happiness at last.'

  Would she and Rudolph ever be able to sort out the problems that stood in

  the way of their happiness? Janey wondered bitterly before returning her

  wayward attention •to the letter lying in her lap.

  'I met an old college chum of ours three weeks ago,' she read further.

  'Derek Reed—you remember him, don't you?

  He was doing his final year when we were fresh from school, and he was

  always so quiet and reserved. I was certain at one stage that he fancied

  you. Well, he did three years at university after leaving college, majoring

  in English, and he's a lecturer at the moment.'

  Janey had a vision of a tall, fair young man with dreamy eyes, who

  appeared to be much happier with his books than joining in with the

  frivolity of the other students. If Alison was interested enough, it could be

  that he would turn out to be the steadying influence her friend needed so

  badly.

  'What an absolutely fabulous man, Janey! He's been out to the farm

  several times, and each time we meet I discover new depths to his

  character. Three years ago I would have considered him terribly dull, but

  now I find him quite intriguing.

  'Janey, I think I'm in love. I can think and talk of nothing else but Derek.

  He's asked me to marry him, but I've insisted that he give me a litde more

  time. I've been in and out of love so many times in my life, as you know,

  so I have to be sure this time that this love will last for ever. Am I being

  silly, Janey, when every part of me is urging that I should fling myself

  into his arms and say yes?

  'I realise now, for the first time, how you must have felt about Rudolph

  when you first met him. If Derek had to walk out of my life now, I think I

  would want to die.

  'Please write, dear, and tell me that you're happy now that you and

  Rudolph have found each other again. I can't help feeling responsible for

  what happened, and I couldn't be happy unless I knew that you were

  happy as well. Regards to Rudolph, and give Andrew a kiss from me.

  Best love, Alison.'

  Janey's eyes Were misty with tears as she read the postscript which was

  added a few days later. 'I've made up my mind, Janey, and I've given

  Derek my answer. We shall be

  married during early summer. Shall let you know definitely later. Love,

  Alison.'

  Janey checked her tea
rs and sat for some time thinking about her friend,

  and wishing that her own life could h^ve been so uncomplicated. With Sybil

  Rampling out of the way, it might not have been so difficult to allow herself

  to love Rudolph once more. But what was the use when everything pointed

  to the fact that he had married her merely for Andrew's sake, and that his

  interests clearly lay with the woman who had stated so boldly that Rudolph

  could only find happiness with her? Why bash herself against the same wall

  she had encountered two years ago? Janey asked herself with a measure of

  defeat. What was the use of loving him, when Sybil was the woman he had

  been destined to marry when his love for her overruled his sense of duty?

  On her way back to the house she encountered Rudolph in the driveway as

  he was about to leave for his golfing appointment with Sybil. He looked

  striking in his pale grey slacks and dark blue, short-sleeved towelling shirt,

  the material hugging his powerful shoulders and accentuating a muscular

  back. He turned as he heard her approach and his hair flamed when the

  sunlight caught it.

  'How nice of you to want to see me safely on my way,' he teased as she

  drew near. 'Perhaps next time you could join me in a round of golf?' 1

  'And be an unwelcome third?' she mocked. 'No, thank you.'

  Strong hands caught at her shoulder-length hair, forcing her to draw closer

  to him until she leaned against his hard, sinewy body. 'I wouldn't have

  suggested that you join us if I hadn't meant it,' he said accusingly, his breath

  fanning her forehead and sending shivers of awareness through her.

  'Yes, I know. You never say anything that you don't mean.'

  There was a note of cynicism in her voice that did not escape him, for he

  tugged hard at her hair, bringing tears to her eyes.

  'There's a lot you still have to learn, Janey,' he said harshly, 'and you

  obviously prefer to learn it the hard way. If that's how you want it to be, then

  I shall oblige you in every respect.'

  'What do you mean?'

  His eyes flickered strangely and her cheeks grew hot under his intense

  scrutiny. 'I haven't the time to explain now,' he replied, a tight smile about

  his usually stern mouth as he released his hold on her hair and slid his hands

  down her back. 'Mother is watching us from her bedroom window.'

  Janey only just prevented herself from glancing that way, but her

 

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