Accidental Nanny

by Lindsay Armstrong

  But it stopped raining after dinner, when she was putting Jess to bed, and a light breeze got up that was sheer heaven.

  When Francesca was sure Jess was properly asleep, she anointed herself with mosquito repellent, got a torch and went for a walk. Mosquitoes and sandflies, as well as crocodiles and box jelly-fish, were a fact of life in this part of the world, and you either learnt to live with them and took precautions or went mad, Francesca suspected as the lawn squelched underfoot.

  And it was rather ruefully that she turned the torch off when she came to the beach, because it was attracting all sorts of other insects that fluttered against her skin, giving her the shivers, or dive-bombed her hair.

  Paradise? she mused. Not entirely. As for Raefe Stevensen …

  She sat down on a smooth, flat rock and watched the faint line of fluorescence that marked the waterline on the beach and listened, with a curiously empty mind, to the gentle lapping of the wavelets. I’m lost, she thought eventually. Whichever key I turn, it’s only to have the door slammed in my face. Even the care I’ve taken of his child has rebounded on me…

  She put her hand out to touch the rock next to the one she was sitting on and was surprised to find it warm and curiously scaly. Then it moved and she leapt up,switching the torch on to that there was a huge snake curled over it—a python by the look of it.

  A scream gurgled in her throat as she leapt away, tripped, dropped the torch and fell against something that also moved, but much more vigorously.

  In fact it was Raefe, who picked her up in his arms and strode away with her.

  ‘Oh, thank heavens,’ she whispered as he put her on her feet on the veranda, although he kept an arm around her while he switched on the light. ‘I got the most awful fright!’

  ‘You’re a bloody idiot,’ he said grimly. ‘Don’t you know snakes are liable to be about at night? And especially after that rain?’

  ‘No! I hadn’t even th-thought about it,’ she stammered. ‘Crocodiles, mosquitoes, things that crawl through my hair-—yes, but how was I to know…? Anyway—’ she changed tack ‘—I thought snakes were more frightened of you and always took evasive action!’

  ‘And how long were you sitting there lost in thought, as still as a mouse and with no light on?’ he shot back.

  Francesca swallowed. ‘I don’t know. Quite a long time, I suppose. But you were out and about too,’ she objected.

  ‘I know what I’m liable to encounter; you obviously don’t.’

  Francesca stared up into his eyes then went to move away, but she looked at the hand she’d touched the snake with and her knees buckled unexpectedly as her skin crawled and nausea rose in her throat.

  He swore beneath his breath and picked her up to sit down with her on a cane settee. ‘It’s all right,’ he said, still exasperatedly, but the anger was gone. ‘Why don’t you think of Indiana Jones? He loathed the feel of them too.’

  Francesca hiccuped, but the nausea subsided slowly and then she chuckled. ‘So he did. I don’t know why but it does make me feel better. Mind you, I may not be game to leave the house for a while with the thought of it lurking out there.’

  ‘It won’t be for much longer.’

  ‘Why? I mean, how come?’

  ‘Because, Chessie—’ he looked down at her with a lurking, smile in his eyes ‘—as soon as you are sufficiently recovered, I’m going to deal with it.’

  ‘How?’

  He paused. ‘If you’re squeamish, don’t ask. If it was daylight I’d shoot it, but I don’t want to frighten the life out of Jess.’

  ‘All right, I won’t ask.’ She shivered. ‘But how will you find it?’

  ‘I’ll take a torch and follow its track. Simple.’

  Francesca grimaced ‘Rather you than me.’ And she sat still, on his lap, leaning back against his arm, as she pictured him trailing the snake, armed with a spade or a ‘machete, through the dripping bushes and casuarinas, and she shivered again then took a deep breath. ‘Will you…?’

  But she looked up at him and stopped abruptly. Because he was looking at her legs sprawled across the settee and she suddenly realised that her skirt had got hitched up along one thigh, so that the lace edge of her satin panties was exposed. Then his gaze travelled upwards, and she saw that one strap of her top had slipped down, exposing the paler flesh of the swell of her breast. But what made matters worse was the way she was suddenly filled with the desire to have him slip both straps down and explore her breasts with his long, strong fingers.

  She took a shaky breath—and their gazes locked.

  Until he said, ‘No, Chessie, I will not.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that,’ she said unevenly, and tried to get up. He refused to let her.

  ‘What did you mean?’

  She swallowed. ‘I was going to say will you be all right, as in safe, or do you need someone to hold the torch for you? That’s all I meant!’,

  He raised a sceptical eyebrows and unexpectedly pushed some wayward hair behind her ear. ‘A moment ago you were sick and shivering with fright.’

  ‘I also believe in confronting my fears, not hiding behind them. So while it’s not exactly what I’d choose to be doing—hunting a large python at this time of night-—-it might be better for me to do it.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Of course I am,’ she said crossly. ‘I may be a lot of things—in your estimation I’m obviously a lot of very bad things—but I am not a coward.’

  This time she managed, to evade his hands, and she stood up, smoothed her skirt, adjusted her straps and confronted him angrily with her hands on her hips.

  ‘What now?’ he murmured.

  ‘You’re unbelievable sometimes, that’s what now,’ she returned scathingly. ‘I wasn’t devouring your legs with my eyes—I wasn’t even aware of what had happened to my skirt or my strap. But I’m the one who always ends up the villain of the piece, if not to say worse! I’m the one who is—’

  ‘The temptress? The seductress? Or—’ he smiled lazily ‘—perhaps those words have left our vocabulary now, because they’re sexist. All the same—’.

  But it was Francesca’s turn to break in. ‘You can go and find that jolly snake on your own, Raefe Stevensen. I’m going to bed.’

  It was s a sparkling day that confronted Francesca the next morning, but she found herself in no mood to appreciate it. In fact she couldn’t imagine how she was going to get through the day, but then Annette and Barbara turned up—she’d forgotten it was one of Barbara’s cleaning days—and she gave silent thanks for their company.

  It was Raefe who proposed they test out the new barbecue with an early evening meal and that the Brown family join them— Why not make a bit of a party of it? he suggested, with a wry little smile. This time Francesca could barely suppress a shout off thanks—she had had no idea how she was going to cope with an evening alone with Raefe.

  So, with Barbara and Annette’s help, she made salads, she prepared kebabs and marinated them. She wrapped fillets of fresh sweetlip in foil. She set out a tray of sausages, chops and steaks, and as a final effort produced, a light-as-air pavlova which she filled with fresh cream, slices of banana and passion fruit.

  ‘Let’s dress up a bit,’ Annette said pertly as she helped her mother wash up‘.

  ‘That means we’ve got to go home,’ Barbara responded, and looked at her watch. ‘It’s four-thirty already. Raefe said five-thirty.’

  ‘That gives us a whole hour, Mum. Pretty please! What do you reckon, Chessie?’ Fran was becoming name of the past, Francesca noticed.

  ‘Uh——how dressy? It is only a barbecue,’ she said cautiously.

  ‘Let’s pretend we’re in Hawaii, or something exciting like that, and wear our prettiest frocks—and I tell you what, I’ll fix some flowers in our hair.’

  ‘Me too?’ Jess enquired excitedly.

  ‘Of course you too, pet,’ Annette said affectionately.

  ‘So long as you don’t turn me into an elderly hipp
ie,’ Barbara said ruefully.

  ‘Oh, Mum, you’re not old! Can we? I’ll ask Raefe to give us an extra half-hour. The later we eat, the cooler it will be anyway.’

  ‘Oh, all right,’ Barbara conceded. ‘It is pretty boring for you up here. OK with you, Chessie?’

  ‘Fine,’ Francesca relented with a grin.

  ‘Look—I’m just green with envy,’ Annette said as she expertly wove some coral hibiscus blooms into Francesca’s hair.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Your dress.’ Annette herself wore a long, pretty floral dress with a heart-shaped neckline and buttons down the front.

  Francesca looked down ruefully at the pale blue dress she’d worn a few nights ago. ‘I only brought this one dress—oh, and a couple of skirts’ and tops. All the rest are shorts and trousers.’

  ‘It’s gorgeous,’ Annette said through a mouthful of hairpins. ‘Where did you buy it? I never see clothes like that in Cairns.’

  ‘Paris.’ Francesca grimaced.

  Annette’s hands stilled, and her eyes in the mirror were wide. ‘Paris, France?’

  ‘I’m. afraid so.’

  ‘No wonder! On a working holiday over there too, I suppose?’

  ‘Something like that,’ Francesca agreed with a niggle of guilt. ‘That looks great. Thanks, Annette—and it feels so cool!’

  Annette stepped back and studied her handiwork. She’d swept Francesca’s hair back into a plait and had tucked the blossoms in highs on the crown.

  ‘Can…can l put at bit of make-up on you?’

  ‘0h, I don’t—’

  ‘Please,’ Annette begged. ‘My ambition is to be a beautician as well as hairdresser, and we’ve still got ten minutes. You’ve got the most gorgeous cosmetics!’

  Francesca glanced at the black and gold containers on the dressing table, then into Annette’ s glowing eyes. ‘All right,’ she laughed. ‘But very discreetly, please.’

  Ten minutes later she had to acknowledge that this girl, who’d grown up in the bush and could probably rope calves, had magic in her fingers. She’d applied foundation, blusher, eyeshadow and so on with the lightest touch so that the whole was barely discernible but artistically enhancing——Francesca’s eyes appeared larger and an even deeper blue, and the greatest effect was given to her already good bone structure.

  ‘Annette,’ she said when the work was finished, ‘I’ve got the feeling you’re going to be wasted on Cairns one day, you know.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Annette’s smile was huge. ‘I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life in Cairns anyway, but it’s‘ so much easier with a face like yours—I don’t know why you’re a governess. You could be a model, a film star—anything!’

  Francesca stood up and turned the conversation with the first thought that came to mind. ‘How would Jericho feel about that?’

  Annette sobered. ‘Leaving Cairns? I don’t know. He’s not talking to me at the moment.’

  ‘Because you wouldn’t go on holiday with him?’

  ‘Because I wouldn’t believe him when he said it could be separate rooms all the way if that’s what I wanted. Well, why should I?’ Annette said, with a curious mixture of belligerence and mournfulness. ‘He’s as big as an ox. And how did he imagine I’d tell Mum and Dad what I was doing? Men are the limit, really!’

  Francesca reached for her hand. They were the same height and in the mirror looked like sisters in their pretty dresses and with flowers in their hair. ‘If he really is serious about you, he’ll come back. Now, shall we go to this party?’

  The new barbecue proved itself admirably, and the fast-setting sun provided the perfect backdrop, turning the placid water to a living pink. Raefe brought out some wine and beer—cola. for Jess— and they toasted the beach shelter, with its palm thatch roof and open sides, as well as the barbecue.

  Bob told some funny stories about his days as a ringer when all the mustering had been done on horseback, all the food went down well and Jess, pretty in a yellow dress and with little white flowers in her hair, enjoyed herself immensely.

  ‘I’m afraid all good things come to an end, though,’ Raefe said when the pavlova had been consumed.

  ‘Too true,’ Bob Brown agreed. ‘It’s half past eight and I’ve got a bore to check tomorrow. Going to give your old man a hand, Annie?’ he said affectionately to his daughter. ‘We’ll ride out; it’s pretty inaccessible otherwise.’

  ‘Love to, Dad,’ Annette replied. ‘Although I suppose that means I’ll have to get up before the crack of dawn!’

  They all laughed and Jess quite naturally curled up in Francesca’s lap, making no attempt to smother a huge yawn. ‘Bedtime, honeybunch,’ she said softly, then saw Raefe’s eyes on her in the firelight. ‘Unless…?’

  But he shook his head and looked away. So Francesca gathered up Jess, who was all but asleep, Annette, Bob and Barbara gathered up most of the dishes and they walked up to the house, saying goodnight to Raefe and, in Annette’s case, adding exuberant thanks.

  ‘There’s still a few things out there,’ Barbara said anxiously, ‘plus these dishes. I’ll just—’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Francesca said softly. ‘I don’t have to get up before the crack of dawn tomorrow. Thanks for all your help!’

  The Browns departed in one of the station vehicles, and Francesca changed Jess into her pyjamas and put the little girl to bed. She fell asleep again as soon as her head touched the pillow.

  It occurred to Francesca, as she hesitated on the veranda in the act of going down to the beach to collect the rest of the stuff, that she might have been better oft accepting Barbara’s offer. Because she could see Raefe’s outline clearly in the firelight—he’d lifted the grid off the barbecue and added more wood to it and was sitting motionless, watching the flames.

  Then she shook herself mentally and decided she couldn’t avoid him completely—and she wasn’t the one in the wrong anyway…

  She had the wind rather. taken out of her sails when he turned at her approach, stood up and offered her a glass of wine.

  ‘Pity to waste it,’ he murmured, lifting the three-quarters-empty bottle from the wine-cooler. ‘Why don’t you sit down? I guarantee there are no pythons in the immediate vicinity, and it is a beautiful night.’

  ‘Well—er—thanks,’ she said, and was annoyed to hear how uncertain she sounded. So she sat down on a wooden bench and said, ‘I’ve been wanting to talk to you anyway.’

  He cast her an amused little look. ‘Fire away.’

  That had the instant effect of rendering her mind blank—no, that wasn’t quite it, she mused darkly. She certainly had a lot of things she would like to say to him, but to plunge in unprepared would be foolhardy to say the least. She took a sip of the chilled white wine instead.

  ‘Changed your mind?’ he said lightly after a couple of minutes of silence. ‘Oh, well, perhaps we should concentrate on the moon and the stars—’

  ‘No, I haven’t changed my mind,’ she interrupted coolly, ‘I was merely…wondering whether to waste my time and breath.’ Not entirely true, but perhaps a better way to go, she thought bitterly.

  ‘Chessie, I can see that you are labouring under the serious burden—rightly or wrongly—of feeling ill-used and hard done by—why don’t you just spit it out?’

  ‘How old are you?’ she said, changing tack abruptly.

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘What’s that got to do with the price of eggs?’

  ‘I thought it might explain why, when you aren’t kissing me against my will, ogling my legs, et cetera, et cetera,’ she said with deep irony, ‘you treat me like a foolish teenager—“Spit it out”!’ she marvelled. ‘Who the hell do you think you are?’

  He grinned. ‘That’s my Francesca Valentine… Er… so what do you suspect? That I’m in my dotage? I’m thirty-four,’ he added before she could take further umbrage. ‘Which is about twelve years older than you are—although the gap maybe closer in… actual experience, ” he said softly.

&nbs
p; ‘Eleven,’ Francesca snapped. ‘I’m twenty-three. As for our other—’

  ‘Then you look younger than your age sometimes, Chessie,’ he mused, ‘which is supposed to be the aim of most women—although not tonight.’

  ‘I—what do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that when you came out in all your glory this evening, with your hair exquisitely groomed and all expertly made up, you looked every inch a very sophisticated twenty-three-year-old. I’m only surprised you didn’t touch up your make-up when you put Jess to bed—it was all for my benefit, I gather? You surely haven’t got Bob in your sights as well?’

  The absolute breathtaking. unfairness of this attack did just that—took Francesca’s breath away. Then she choked on sheer rage, and was further infuriated when he recommended she have a sip of wine. Which she did—several in fact—at the same time as she was aware of a curious refrain growing in her mind. Oh, no, it was saying. Oh, no, you don’t, Raefe Stevensen. You don’t get away with this.

  ‘You noticed,’ she murmured, looking at him over the rim of her glass.’ ‘I noticed,’ he agreed.

  She shrugged gently. ‘I thought it was all—rather discreet.’

  ‘It was.’

  ‘But still you noticed. You must have been studying me pretty closely, Raefe. I mean, to be aware of the difference.’

  There was a short silence. Then he said drily, ‘And that pleases you, I gather?’

  She drew the blue dress up to her knees and crossed her legs elegantly sideways, pointing her toes and, apparently absent-mindedly, raising her arm so that the lie of the blue material was altered across her breasts She patted the hibiscus blooms in her hair.

  ‘Well, it’s nice to know it wasn’t all wasted. You know, Raefe—do you mind if I call you that again? I will anyway—you said something about women-starved bush cowboys yesterday. Has it entered your mind that it could, well apply to you? I mean, I know you’ve conceded you’re not a block of wood, but when you can pick out a really expertly done make-up job on a girl in fading daylight perhaps there’s a bit more to it?’