by Anne Mather
Joanna took a deep breath. She didn’t really feel like making small talk with anyone, but he had been kind enough to lend her his bed, and she knew it would be churlish to refuse.
‘Please—do sit down,’ she exclaimed, indicating the chair opposite. ‘You’d better give your order now, or I’ll be finished before you’ve even begun.’
‘Thanks.’ Brad lowered his bulk into the chair, and after checking what Joanna was eating, ordered the same. ‘This is nice,’ he commented, as the waiter went to attend to his needs. ‘And so unexpected!’ He frowned. ‘I understood you intended spending several days with your brother.’
Joanna poured herself some coffee and nodded. ‘I did. I do.’ She paused. ‘But my luggage was here, at the hotel, and I came down yesterday to collect it. I intended going back to Kwyana today, but as you probably know there are no trains on Sundays.’
Brad showed his comprehension. ‘Of course, there aren’t. So you’re staying over until tomorrow?’
Joanna rested her elbows on the table, cradling her cup in her fingers. ‘Yes. I’m hoping there’s a train about nine-thirty.’
‘The only train,’ agreed Brad dryly, toying with a teaspoon.
‘The only train?’ Joanna stared at him.
‘That’s right. It goes up to Kwyana in the morning, and comes back in the afternoon.’ He considered her puzzled features. ‘I came down by car. I shall be going back the same way. Want a lift?’
Joanna hesitated. ‘I don’t know,’ she said doubtfully. ‘Jacob will probably meet me off the train tomorrow afternoon.’ But would he? And if not, how was she to get to the mine?
‘That’s okay,’ Brad was saying expansively. ‘Hell, I’ll have you at Shannon’s place long before Jacob needs to leave for the station.’
‘It’s very kind of you to offer, but …’
‘… but you don’t know me? I’m a stranger to you?’
‘Well—yes.’
‘So okay, let’s spend the day together. Let’s get to know one another. You said yourself you’d planned to leave today. You can’t have made any plans yet.’
He was going too fast for her, and in her confused emotional state it was difficult to know how to handle him. It seemed unreasonable not to consider his suggestions when she had no real reason for refusing. And he had said he was a friend of Shannon’s. But …
‘I have to cable my father,’ she said, buttering a warm roll. The butter had a slightly rancid taste, but after several days she was getting used to it. She spread the conserve thickly to disguise the taste of the butter, and added: ‘And I have a letter to write to my fiancé.’
Brad’s expression grew faintly sardonic. ‘I had noticed the bauble,’ he remarked offhandedly. ‘Okay, point taken. You’re engaged. I’m not suggesting we sleep together or anything. I just thought it might cheer both of us up to spend the day together. But if you don’t like the idea, that’s okay by me.’
‘I didn’t say that exactly,’ said Joanna uncomfortably. ‘Actually, I had thought of using the pool this morning.’
‘Is that an invitation?’
‘You’re welcome to join me, if you like,’ she offered, colouring a little, and Brad grinned his acceptance.
In spite of the heat, the water in the kidney-shaped pool was cool and refreshing. Around the pool, the patio area was bright with gaily coloured garden furniture, striped umbrellas shading glass-topped tables where ice chinked in buckets. Tall, frosted glasses were decorated with slices of lime or lemon, and button-black olives sprouted on cocktail sticks. The guests staying at the hotel were of various nationalities, many of them Europeans working in Lushasa in one capacity or another, and enjoying a weekend break in Menawi.
Joanna found she was glad of Brad’s company. Everyone seemed to know someone, and without his comforting presence she would have felt rather isolated. As it was, he introduced her to two Germans he knew who were working on a hydro-electric scheme for the government, and they in turn introduced their wives, who lived in Menawi and only saw their husbands every other weekend. They were all interested to hear Joanna’s reasons for visiting Lushasa, and she guessed that any stranger’s presence created a welcome diversion.
The morning sped by, and after lunch, Joanna excused herself to send her cable and to write her letter to Philip. It was pleasant relaxing on her bed, listening to the buzz of conversation from the gardens beyond her windows, the sun slatted to a comfortable angle by the blinds.
Writing to Philip wasn’t easy, she found. Although she had succeeded in part to put the things Shannon had told her to the back of her mind, composing a letter to Philip brought everything back into cold perspective. It was hard to write about her journey to Lushasa, to describe the country and its people, when her thoughts ricocheted from the remembrance of her childhood with Shannon in England, to that devastating confrontation at Kwyana. It was something out of the past, yet it had a distinct bearing on the present, and Joanna knew she had been deeply disturbed by it. But Philip was her reality, the kind and gentle man she was going to marry. The dangerous delights of forbidden fruit did not torment her. Somehow she had to make Shannon see that his future was more important than the past, that there was no earthly reason why he should not come home and take over the estate as her father so desperately wanted him to do. She would be married to Philip in four months’ time. A brief period to suffer her presence before being rid of her for good.
In the evening Joanna had dinner with Brad, and afterwards there was dancing in the hotel. All in all, it had been a relaxing day, and when he broached the subject of driving her back to Kwyana the next morning, she eventually agreed. Brad’s car was bound to be more comfortable than the train, she thought, and besides, it was a long journey to make alone.
The first hundred miles of roadway leading to Kwyana was quite good. The country they passed through changed from dense bushland on the outskirts of Menawi to the open scrub she was used to seeing around the mine. At times the dust was choking, but at others, rain had moistened the ground, and that distinctive smell of earth and vegetation filled the car.
Soon after twelve, Brad stopped, and produced a flask of chilled beer and some ham sandwiches from the glove compartment. Joanna discovered that she was really hungry for once, and the alfresco meal was more enjoyable than the elaborate dinner they had shared the evening before. Watching her demolishing the last sandwich, Brad could not conceal his amusement.
‘You sure do care about that brother of yours, don’t you?’ he exclaimed, not noticing the suddenly anxious look which crossed Joanna’s face. ‘I haven’t seen you so animated since a couple of days ago at Kwyana. I guess absence does make the heart grow fonder, like they say. I only know my kid sister doesn’t give a hoot about me!’
Joanna found the last mouthful of sandwich was sticking in her throat, and she took a mouthful of beer to shift it. Then she thanked Brad politely, and put the empty papers back into the glove compartment. Brad waited until she had finished, and then he gave her a wry look.
‘Hey, did I say something wrong?’ he asked, plaintively. ‘You’ve gone all stiff on me again.’
Joanna forced herself to relax, and shook her head. ‘I—well, you just reminded me about—Shannon,’ she said. ‘I—I wonder if he’s better?’
‘Camilla will have seen to that,’ remarked Brad, starting the engine. ‘You know she has quite a thing about your brother.’
‘Does she?’ Was that too abrupt? ‘I—I didn’t know.’
‘Oh, sure thing. I thought you’d noticed.’
‘And—and does my—my brother share her—feelings?’
Brad shrugged, reaching for a cigarette from a pack on the shelf in front of him. ‘I guess he uses her, if you know what I mean. Heck, what man wouldn’t, given half a chance? Women aren’t too thick on the ground around Kwyana.’
Joanna turned her head to stare out of the side of the car. She had guessed, of course, but it sounded so much worse to hear it actually put into
words. No wonder Nurse Langley took such a proprietorial interest in her patient! But did that give Camilla the right to be rude to her? And why should she treat her so?
The road had deteriorated into a series of cracks and potholes, and the heavy American car bounced violently on its springs, making Joanna feel a little sick as the beer and sandwiches were jostled together in her inside.
‘Sorry about this,’ said Brad, noticing her discomfort. ‘It gets easier soon. We can cut across the veld, and shorten our journey by half a dozen miles.’
‘Well, if you’re sure …’ Joanna was saying doubtfully, when there was a terrific bang, and the steering wheel slewed dangerously through Brad’s fingers. He grasped it tightly and applied his brakes, and the heavy car ground to a halt.
‘Blow-out!’ he told her, with a grimace. ‘I’ll have to change the wheel.’
Joanna bit back her own dismay, and climbed out with him to survey the mangled tyre. It was hardly surprising that they had had a puncture in these conditions, but they were still about fifty miles from their destination, she estimated, and the road did not look as though it got any better. What if they should have a second blow out?
Deciding there was no point in anticipating the worst, she squatted down beside Brad, watching while he jacked up the car, and then holding the nuts he unwound from the hub. It didn’t take too long to fit the spare, but Brad was sweating freely in the heat, and when he had finished, he swallowed the last of the beer from the flask and smoked another cigarette before going on.
Joanna glanced surreptitiously at her watch and found it was already after two. There seemed little chance of them arriving at Kwyana in advance of the train now, and she gave up worrying about whether or not Jacob would go and meet her.
It was almost four when they intercepted the road which ran between the railway station and the mine, and Joanna was unutterably relieved to be able to identify her surroundings at last. Conversation had flagged since the incident with the tyre, and she had guessed that Brad was as anxious as she that they should arrive at the settlement with no further mishaps. They had seen no game on their journey, but once darkness fell it might be a different story, and Joanna expelled her breath on a sigh when they finally reached the outskirts of the mine settlement.
As they approached the bungalows, Joanna saw that Shannon’s station wagon was parked outside, on the road. She wondered if that indicated that Jacob had been to the station to meet the train, or whether Shannon was well enough to have returned to work. Brad pulled up outside the adjoining bungalow, and Joanna thrust open her door and climbed out. She was thanking him for the lift, while he hoisted her cases and his own out of the boot, when Shannon came striding down his driveway.
Joanna’s first thoughts were that he must obviously be feeling better, but his face was as dark as a thundercloud, almost as dark as the black denim shirt and matching levis he was wearing. It was apparent that he was furiously angry about something, and she shifted uneasily from one foot to the other as he approached.
‘I trust you had a pleasant journey?’
His first words were disconcerting, delivered in a dangerously controlled tone, and Joanna found herself chewing at her lower lip. ‘As a matter of fact, we had a puncture,’ she told him, not quite able to meet his eyes. ‘Er—didn’t we, Brad?’
Brad had finished unloading the cases and slammed down the lid of the boot with a heavy thud. ‘That’s right,’ he agreed. ‘We did. Something really ought to be done about the road conditions around here.’
Shannon scarcely spared him a glance. His attention was concentrated on Joanna. ‘I understand you intended coming back by train?’ he said.
‘I—well, yes, I did. But—but Brad was staying at the hotel, and he offered me a lift.’ She made an apologetic gesture. ‘I’m sorry if you’ve been worried. Did—did Jacob go to meet the train?’
‘No,’ replied Shannon flatly. ‘I did.’ He bent and picked up her cases. ‘Shall we go?’
Joanna cast a helpless look in Brad’s direction, and was rewarded by his reassuring wink. Then she slung her bag over her shoulder and hurried after Shannon up the concrete driveway to his bungalow. He carried her cases into the hall, set them down, and then indicated the living room.
‘In there,’ he said. ‘I want to talk to you.’
Joanna resented his tone, and flounced into the room. But when she swung round, ready to make some protest about his behaviour, she found she was alone. Pressing her lips together, she waited impatiently for him to come back. Was this a calculated attempt on his part to intimidate her? Did he imagine by keeping her waiting he would weaken her indignation?
A lizard ran wildly across the wall beside her, and she started violently. But its presence made her aware of her surroundings and she realised in dismay that the camp bed had been removed. Then she remembered. In her annoyance over Shannon’s sedation before she left, she had forgotten to countermand Jacob’s instructions. She sighed. Did nothing go right for her? She was beginning to wonder why she had even bothered to come back here. She had spoken to Shannon, and failed to get his agreement to return to England. Her father could not expect more of her than that. Why hadn’t she simply accepted Shannon’s refusal and instead of returning to Kwyana, taken the first plane out of Menawi bound for England?
A sound behind her heralded Shannon’s return, and she turned as he came into the room and closed the door behind him. But she was unable to sustain the penetration of his stare, and bending her head, she said peevishly: ‘Was it necessary to be rude to Brad Steiner?’
‘I don’t recall being rude to him,’ retorted Shannon coolly. ‘As a matter of fact, I don’t recall addressing him at all.’
‘That’s just the point,’ said Joanna, lifting her head. ‘There is such a thing as dumb insolence, you know.’
‘Is there?’ Shannon’s heavy lids narrowed his eyes. ‘There is also thoughtlessness, incompetence, and a careless disregard for anyone’s feelings but your own!’
‘What do you mean?’
‘How do you think I felt when I met that train and you weren’t on it?’ he demanded grimly.
Joanna was taken aback. ‘I—well, I didn’t know you would meet the train,’ she protested.
‘But you were aware that you would be expected to be on it?’
‘I—suppose so. But Brad said he could have me here before the train, and I thought——’
‘Yes? What did you think?’
Joanna hunched her shoulders. ‘All right, I’m sorry. Perhaps I should have come by train. But after my—welcome last time, I didn’t suppose my non-appearance would arouse too much disappointment.’
Shannon’s expression frightened her. ‘Why, you——’
He bit off an epithet. ‘You deserve hanging for that remark! My God, have you any idea of the risk you run just being here? A lone woman—a lone white woman in a predominantly black community? Your father was crazy allowing you to come here, but that’s typical of him! So long as he gets what he wants, he doesn’t care who gets hurt along the way!’
‘Oh, Shannon——’
‘When I found that you’d gone back to Menawi——’
‘But you told me to go!’
‘Not unescorted. I was going to take you myself—make sure you got safely on the plane.’
‘But you were ill!’
‘Precisely. And thanks to you and Camilla, I had no choice in the matter.’
‘Shannon, I was all right.’
‘There are men in Menawi, Joanna, unscrupulous men, who would pay dearly to have possession of a girl with your—attributes. Do you take my meaning?’
Joanna gasped. ‘I don’t believe that sort of thing still goes on!’
‘Let me assure you, it does.’ Shannon’s eyes were hard. ‘These people respect their own kind, but they have no respect for white women, who go around half naked most of the time!’
‘But—but I don’t!’
Shannon raked a hand through his ha
ir. ‘God, Joanna, I don’t need a crystal ball to know you’re wearing next to nothing under that shirt and jeans.’
Joanna’s face burned. ‘Oh—oh, very well. I take your point.’
‘That’s good. So now perhaps you have some small idea of my feelings when you didn’t appear off that train!’ He uttered a savage oath. ‘You asked about my attitude towards Steiner, didn’t you? My God, I didn’t speak to him, Joanna, because if I had, I think I would have wrung his neck!’
‘Oh, Shannon.’ Joanna felt ashamed. ‘I really didn’t think you’d worry.’
‘No … well …’ Shannon ran a hand round the back of his neck, lifting his damp shirt away from his skin. ‘At least you’re here now and unharmed.’ He paused. ‘Did you spend the weekend with Steiner?’
Joanna dropped her bag down on to a chair. ‘I spent yesterday with him,’ she admitted reluctantly. Then she looked at him again. ‘I didn’t know there were no trains on Sundays, and no one bothered to enlighten me.’
Shannon studied her flushed face. ‘No doubt he proved an entertaining escort,’ he commented tersely.
‘He’s pleasant,’ Joanna agreed, wishing Shannon would stop looking at her as if he disliked her. ‘And if what you say is true, perhaps it’s just as well he was around. At least I wasn’t alone.’
‘Mmm.’ Shannon sounded unconvinced.
‘Shannon, he knows I’m engaged!’ she exclaimed, needing somehow to defend herself. ‘He saw my ring, just as you did.’ She shook her head. ‘Anyway, as you say, I’m here now. And if you expected me back, why did you let Jacob dismantle the bed?’
‘The bed’s in the study,’ Shannon retorted levelly. ‘I shall be using it tonight.’
‘You will?’ Joanna’s lips parted in dismay as she realised she had not even asked him how he was feeling. ‘There’s no need for you to——’
‘Don’t talk nonsense!’ Shannon sounded bored by the whole affair. ‘When are you planning to return to England?’
Joanna shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘I—haven’t thought about it. At least, not in detail.’