Anne Hampson - Call of The Veld

by Anne Hampson

  He seemed to be waiting for her to speak, but she shook her head vaguely, impatient for him to explain.

  'You've just revealed a great deal to me,' he continued eventually. 'It's obvious that you're extremely unhappy, not only because of your own unrequited love, but because of Irma's plight and also Ray's.' He paused again; Sara merely nodded as an indication that she agreed with all he was saying. She had told him this and much more besides—in fact, there was scarcely anything that she had left out. 'One of your main worries is that Irma, aware that you love her husband,, is worrying herself sick with fear that Ray might turn to you.' Again Sara nodded and again he continued, 'Her repeated threats of suicide are another cause of anxiety to you ————-'

  'Yes, because I shall feel entirely to blame if she should take her life. You yourself said—not in actual words—that I would be to blame if she took her own life——— ' Sara stopped, sorry she had added that last sentence, for Carl was plainly upset, deeply regretting his treatment of her. 'I didn't mean to remind you of that, Carl. It's all in the past—and unremembered as far as I'm concerned.' She knew that all she wanted was to be in harmony with him. It was a soft and balmy evening, with a full moon sailing in a sky of deep purple—not a night for causing hurt, for opening up old sores. 'I'm happy here,' she went on, unconsciously wistful and a little pleading. 'I want to stay like this until I go home.'

  Was he affected in some emotional way by what she had said? wondered Sara, noticing the pulsation of a nerve in his throat. She had not meant to become intense or melodramatic in any way, but merely to convey her desire to retain the wonderful feeling of peace that had come to her from the moment she had arrived here and met his mother.

  'Sara——— ' Carl spoke her name and then stopped, clearly searching for the right words. 'Tell me, would you welcome a way out of your present difficulties?'

  She frowned, puzzled by his question.

  'There isn't any way out of them,' she said.

  'There is a way, a very practical way,' he returned calmly. 'If you remember, I spoke a short while ago about having something important to say to you?'

  'Yes…?' Her voice quivered; she was suddenly gripped in a vice of tension. 'Yes?' she said again, this time on a little breathless note.

  'If you were to marry, you'd be taking a constructive step that would solve every one of your difficulties.' So cool his tone, so matter-of-fact the words which he spoke. Sara, taken aback, could only stare at him, half suspecting him of being facetious.

  'Marry——— 1' She stared at him incredulously. 'Did you say marry?'

  'Yes, Sara, I did. I'm suggesting you and I get married—————-'

  'What!' Every nerve in her body seemed to be rioting. This wasn't happening! It was all part of the unreality that seemed to have been enveloping her since she had come here. Carl van der Linden marry her, Sara Morgan! 'You must be j-joking—and—and I don't think it's a—a very good joke at all!'

  The merest twitch of his lips indicated his amusement, but his voice had never been more serious as he said, 'It isn't a joke, Sara; I'm in deadly earnest. I don't treat marriage as a joking matter, I assure you. If we do marry it's permanent; this you must accept—and always remember. You're in love with Ray, and this I myself accept. If you marry me you'll set Irma's mind at rest, you'll set your own mind at rest because you'll not be worrying about her taking her own life. You'll still be able to go over each day to take care of Irma, but on the other hand you won't be tied to her all the time. You'll have a life of your own, which you need to have. Ray will have to take over when you leave, which will be some time in the afternoon. I shall insist that you have your week-ends free, but otherwise I won't interfere too much with your activities; you can go over to Njangola early each morning and stay all day if you wish.'

  Sara, listening with a sort of dazed fascination not unmingled with disbelief, told herself again that this was not really happening. Yet it was happening, for there was Carl, relaxed in his rattan chair, with the amber glow from the hidden lights accentuating his bronzed skin and the handsome lines of his face, looking calmly at her and obviously waiting for her response. She naturally asked the question that had been hovering on her lips, but which she had held back while her blunted mind jostled with the various aspects he was mentioning to her.

  'Why do you want to marry me, Carl?'

  'An obvious question. There are two main reasons, the first being that I feel a very natural reluctance to die without leaving an heir and I've recently been seriously considering marriage. As I consider love unimportant simply because it doesn't last, it has never entered into my scheme of things. Therefore, I shan't mind that you yourself can't give me love—in fact, I wouldn't think of marrying a woman who was in love with me; her demands would both irritate and bore me.'

  So cold and clinical his attitude towards love! Sara thought of Ray, and of what might have been, and something twisted agonisingly in her heart. And yet, as she could never have Ray, why not consider the advantages of this constructive step which Carl had so coldbloodedly put forward as the answer to her problems? Carl was speaking again after the short pause he had made, and Sara looked up, her lovely features deceptively calm and composed, her neck arched, her hair caught by the light which tinted the gold with bronze. 'My second reason is that one of my sisters—she's married to a Brazilian…' He paused again. 'Mother's mentioned her to you, obviously.'

  Sara nodded.

  'Yes; she's mentioned both of your sisters.'

  'This one—Margaret—is having marriage trouble and, having decided to leave her husband, has told me that she's intending to settle in with me as my housekeeper. I naturally told her she could go to the d— Er— that I didn't require a housekeeper, but she's a very headstrong woman, is Margaret, and I can tell by her letters that she's made up her mind to come to Ravens- park and squat. She——————'

  'But,' interrupted Sara with a frown, 'you're not the kind of person to be bullied into something you didn't want to do!' She was recalling her previous conviction that, if he ever did marry, he would make the most domineering husband imaginable, letting his wife know, right from the start, who was the master.

  'True.' He smiled faintly as if appreciating Sara's accurate reading of his character. 'But if she arrives at Ravenspark I can scarcely turn her out, especially as she would then come to Mother, who doesn't want to be bothered with other people's problems at her time of life.' Carl shook his head decisively. 'It'll make matters much more simple if I can write to inform her of my marriage. That will make her think again about leaving her husband, who happens to be an admirable fellow anyway—far too good for Margaret!'

  Sara said nothing; she was discovering that her nerves and her thoughts were settling, that she could looked objectively at the offer made to her by Carl. All the points he had put forward made sense—so long as one left emotion entirely out of it. But although this could be done, there was the important matter of providing Carl with an heir, since this was the whole point of the marriage as far as he was concerned—or at least it was his most important reason for marrying. He himself was willing to give a great deal, so naturally he would demand that her part of the bargain was kept.

  Suddenly she felt the dampness of perspiration on her forehead. In love with Ray but sleeping with Carl…

  Carl making love to her—no, not making love, but merely using her to provide————— Sara cut her thoughts and shook her head vigorously.

  'I can't marry you!' she quivered, very close to tears. 'It wouldn't be right…' Her voice hung suspended for a moment as she saw the way Carl was regarding her, with reproof in his eyes. 'I can't!' she cried again. 'I know what you're thinking—that I haven't done as you asked and given the matter some thought. Well, I have given it thought, and it isn't right to use marriage to suit one's own ends I How can so cold-blooded a bargain be right?'

  Carl's eyes narrowed a little.

  'You're really thinking about Ray,' he accus
ed. 'You love him, so you can't imagine yourself being made love to by another man. But, Sara,' he went on deliberately, 'you can never have Ray; he's your sister's husband. He loves her and she loves him. You're sensible enough, surely, to realise that the sooner you forget him in that way the better.'

  Sara hung her head.

  'I know you're right, Carl,' she agreed. 'I must forget him in that way, I suppose. But I still can't marry anyone else.'

  'I believe you will one day marry someone else,' he said. 'You're very lovely, in spite of what you say about Irma's superior beauty. I'll grant you she's one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen, but you're also beautiful, in a very different way.' He stopped, watching her colour rise at his unexpected words of flattery. Then—on impulse it seemed to Sara—he reached across to place his strong brown hand over hers as it lay on the table. 'Give it some further thought,' he advised. 'Stop to consider whether this hopeless love you have is worth remaining single all your life for. Marriage to me will give you that peace and tranquillity you always seem to be craving for. You'll be the mistress of your own home; you'll be a proud mother one day.'

  His words came to her softly on the perfumed air; she thought of the man she had first known, the austere and distant Carl van der Linden who treated her with near indifference, and then, a little later, with added contempt, believing as he did that she had come over to Africa to be near to the man she loved. He knew now that she had given up a great deal to come here, and that the reason for coming was the love she had for her sister, and the duty she owed to her.

  'Come,' he invited, rising from his chair and bringing Sara up with him, 'let's take a stroll in the garden and forget this discussion for the time being.' She was on her feet, rather close to him; she had a sudden flash of memory that brought vividly to mind that other occasion when she had been close to Carl… much closer than this. She remembered his strength and the easy victory that had carried her to blissful heights. She felt again his passionate kisses, his arms about her. She had blamed her own lack of resistance on the wine… but was it the wine…?

  'We'll go this way.' Carl had his hand under her elbow; they wandered away from the lights of the house to the silvered light which filled the garden. It was an idyllic, dreamlike atmosphere, hauntingly still and restful, with no sound but that of the cicadas in the trees at the far end of the lawn. Above, in the vast expanse of sky, a million stars pierced the celestial veil of cirrus cloud that floated, wraith-like, across the purple dome of the heavens. A draught of perfume- laden air touched Sara's face and played tricks with her hair. She felt exhilarated, her senses tingling with excitement.

  'It's so beautiful,' she breathed, aware that Carl had turned his head, but unaware that his eyes were fixed with admiration on her profile, or that he put out a hand to tidy an unruly lock of hair but then dropped it again, faintly astonished at his action. 'Just look, Carl——— ' Sara pointed to the small ornamental pool just ahead of them. 'The clouds are mirrored in the water.' It was so pretty, but she thought that perhaps Carl would not be as appreciative as she was.

  But to her surprise he stopped, and said after a moment, 'The clouds look like silver—the result of the moonlight, of course.'

  'How quiet it all is!'

  'But the leaves are whispering.'

  'Yes, I can just hear them.'

  They walked on again, Carl still keeping his hand beneath Sara's elbow. Her thoughts wandered, to the pleasant times she had had since coming here, to stay with a woman she had never even met. They had got along as if they had known one another for years. Sara began to picture that gracious lady as her mother-in-law… A little thrill of pleasure shot through her; she knew she could never have a nicer mother-in-law and she thought that if only she could have been in love with Carl then her future would have looked rosy indeed. But she was not in love with Carl, nor was he in love with her, so marriage was definitely out. It could never succeed if it was entered into in so cold and calculating a manner as Carl had suggested. Why, it was no more than a business deal! No, attractive as was his offer in one way—and there was no doubt that the idea of living at Ravenspark was most attractive indeed—it had no appeal for Sara at all.

  Or did it…?

  Sara found herself going over it all again, this time seeing only the advantages, Irma's peace of mind being the most important. Ray would spend more time with her, as Carl had said, so it was reasonable to assume that they would become close again, as they used to be before Sara's arrival at the farm. She had taken over the running of the home quite naturally, because Irma had had no interest at all. But if Sara was not there to run the home then Irma might do it herself. She could certainly do such things as planning meals, making shopping lists, giving orders to Sadie and Makau. All this would take up some of her time and in consequence there would be less time for brooding.

  Yes, there were certainly many advantages…

  But what of Sara herself—married to a man as unfeeling as Carl? True, she did not want his love, simply because she was unable to give love in return, but she could scarcely go through her life without even affection. There would be the children, though…

  A sigh escaped her and Carl turned his head to look at her.

  'What was that for?' he inquired softly.

  'I was thinking,' she murmured.

  'I told you to forget it for the time being.'

  'How can I? It's natural that it should be on my mind.'

  'You're looking at the advantages and the disadvantages,' he stated. 'But are there many disadvantages, Sara?'

  'There are certainly more advantages,' she agreed.

  'I ought not to influence you. It's your decision, Sara. As for me—well, I can look out for someone else to serve my purpose.'

  Someone else… Sara looked up into his handsome face; she remembered again that ecstasy of his love- making. Someone else… A frown creased her wide clear brow. She saw the picture of him with a pretty wife, and two or three children. She had thought once that he would make an unfeeling father, but she knew now that she had been quite mistaken; he would make an excellent father—stern, certainly, but a kind father for all that.

  Someone else… Why did the words jar like this?

  He was speaking again, saying it was time they returned to the house. She nodded and they turned, retracing their steps. Sara spoke, softly, into the balmy night where the sweet perfumes of flowers drifted through the air.

  'I've made up my mind, Carl.'

  'You have?' He stopped, and looked down into her lovely face. 'And what decision have you come to?'

  'I'd like to marry you—and th-thank you for asking me.'

  'Thank you for accepting,' was his quiet unemotional response. 'I rather think, my dear, that we've made a profitable bargain tonight, one which neither of us will ever regret.' He paused a moment and then, 'I shall not, of course, expect you to be my wife immediately. We shall marry, and soon, but I think you'll agree that we ought to get to know one another a little better before we put our marriage on a normal footing?'

  Deep gratitude welled up within her. He might have known that no sooner was her answer given than the thought of her wedding night had brought to her something almost akin to fear.

  'I do agree, Carl,' she returned, fluttering him a shy smile. 'Thank you for being so considerate.'

  CHAPTER NINE

  Irma lay back against the pillows and watched her sister using a duster on the dressing-table. Sadie had been ill for three days and so the dusting and cleaning of Irma's room had fallen once again on Sara's shoulders. Not that Sara minded; she arrived at Njangola at nine o'clock every morning, anyway.

  'I'm still staggered that you and Carl should have got married.' Irma spoke into the little silence that had fallen between them. 'I lie here and ponder, and always come to the same conclusion.'

  'And what's that?' Sara wanted to know, sending Irma a smile across the room.

  'That there's something that doesn't quite fit.'


  'Such as?'

  'You hated him until you went on that holiday."

  'I didn't hate him,' denied Sara, bending down to dust the narrow length of polished wood supporting the legs of the dressing-table. 'I disliked him, I admit, but there was nothing stronger than that.'

  'You disliked him one week and the next you were married to him.'

  Sara had to laugh.

  'Not as quickly as that, Irma. We were engaged for ten days, remember?'

  'Ten days!' scoffed her sister.

  'What about you and Ray?' Sara could not help reminding her.

  'We were engaged longer than that.'

  'I don't really see that it matters.' Straightening up,

  Sara glanced around to make sure she had dusted everything.

  'Are you in love with him?' asked Irma curiously.

  'What a thing to ask!'

  'Well, I am asking it.'

  Sara twisted away, and began to dust a small bookshelf for the second time.

  'Of course I'm in love with him. Am I the kind of girl to marry without love?'

  'You were in love with Ray… perhaps you still are in love with him.'

  Sara swallowed hard, her nerves quivering. If it had not worked… if it had all been done for nothing…

  Naturally she mentioned it to her husband at dinner that evening. It was the first time they had seen each other that day, for Carl had already gone out when Sara got up, and he was still out when she returned to Ravenspark at almost six o'clock, having had to see to the evening meal for Ray and Irma.

  'You mean she actually asked outright if you're in love with me?' Carl seemed almost unable to believe it.

  'She also reminded me that I'd been in love with Ray, and suggested I might still be in love with him.'

  Carl frowned.

  'Irma needs convincing,' he declared. 'When I was with her yesterday she seemed as depressed as ever. I've an idea that Ray isn't doing all he should for her.' His voice was stern, his eyes faintly angry. He was one of the family now and it seemed that he intended to have his say. His next words left Sara in no doubt about this. 'I shall speak to Ray, and give him some advice.'