The Whistling Thorn

by Isobel Chace

  She took a tight hold of herself. 'If you're sure Jeremy isn't here, I think we should go back to the lodge,' she said. There was nothing warm about her tone. She sounded' bright, brittle, and to her own ears, very near the edge of tears.

  For answer, he put his lips against hers and kissed her gently. Annot shut her eyes, abandoning her defences with a little sigh, then when he kissed her again, she put her

  arms up round his neck and gave in completely. She forgot everything else—the pain in her head, even the smell of manure that surrounded them—in the shattering bliss of his embrace. She strained closer still to him with a little sob.

  'Oh, James!' she whispered.

  He released her with a suddenness that almost threw her off the makeshift bed. `God,' he groaned, 'you're too much! I'm sorry, love.'

  He was sorry! The tears filled her eyes and rolled, unseen, down her cheeks. 'I'm sorry too,' she said. 'I'm sorry you're disappointed in me—'

  'Annot, if you say another word I'll turn you over my knee and smack you. How can I make love to you here, with you still claiming you dislike me, and probably still out of your mind after that blow on your head? That doesn't mean I wouldn't like to! I could have killed you when I saw you in the pool with Fritz!'

  `But

  'Shut up! You're right, we'd better go back to the lodge and return you to Judith's indifferent care.'

  'I don't need anyone's care!' she spat at him, bitterly hurt. Why had he had to mention Judith now of all times? As if she didn't know that Judith was his true love, whereas Annot was only a passing diversion brought about by circumstances. 'I'm not a child, whatever you may think!'

  He took her hands in his. 'No, you're no child, Annot Lindsay. That's half the trouble, my sweet. You're not a child, but nor are you exactly in control of the situation, are you?'

  She shook her head, gulping back a sob. 'I don't think I do dislike you after all,' she confided.

  'I never thought you did,' he responded.

  'James, what am I going to do?'

  He brushed his fingers through her hair.- 'Does it hurt

  much, love? Can't you be content to leave things to me? I'll see you're all right, I'll even look out for Jeremy for you. Don't you know that yet?'

  She was hungry for the sense of security she had discovered in his arms; it was like a physical ache inside her. 'Suppose,' she said, 'just suppose I fell in love with you?'

  'I'd prefer you didn't tell me when you have a lump on your head the size of an egg. I'm having a hard job keeping my hands off you as it is!'

  'Yes, but—'

  'Don't you realise how much I want to make love to you?' He sounded kind and a little sad too, and she felt deeply sorry for him

  'I'd know if it was love you felt,' she contradicted. 'It's just being here alone together.'

  'Is that what it is?' he said wryly. 'My dear girl, where have you been all your life? No, don't tell me, I'll tell you instead. You've been cosseted and petted by everyone around you, all of them intent on keeping you pure and virginal until you go to your wedding. And I'm just as bad as

  'There must have been other girls 'More than I care to remember!'

  'Well then,' she began, 'why were they different?'

  'I don't think this is the time or place to tell you. Come on, my pretty one, and I'll take you home before you find out anything else about me! Are you coming?'

  I suppose so.' She wished it hadn't ended like this. She wished—well, it was no good pretending about it—she wished she had found out what it was like to be loved by James Montgomery after all. Only it was bad enough to admit such a thing to herself, and she couldn't possibly say so to him! 'I wish it had been Jeremy—in some ways,' she added, 'then perhaps this would never have happened!'

  His laughter was full of mockery. 'It would have happened all right! The only surprise is that it didn't happen sooner ! '

  That shocked her deeply. How could she have been on the brink of as devastating a discovery as she had just made, and not have known about it? She was glad of the darkness that surrounded them as she considered the ease with which James had swamped her defences. How long had he known, she wondered, that she was no more than a puppet waiting for him to pull the strings to get the response he wanted? Had he suspected such a thing all along?

  `You can't have known!' she told him

  He put his arms about her in a comforting gesture, kissing her cheek. 'If you'd been a bit more experienced you'd have known yourself, sweetheart. It's apt to happen when a man and woman get together.'

  But not without love! Her whole being protested against the idea that she would give herself to any man without love. And yet she had been willing to—or had she? Suppose she wasn't on the verge of falling in love with James, but had already done so? Would she have known?

  `But—'

  'Annot darling, don't you want to go to your marriage bed a virgin?'

  She hid her face in his neck. 'I don't think I shall ever marry! How will I know if I'm in love or not?'

  He didn't laugh at her as she had been afraid he would. `If you trust your husband, you'll have to take his word for it,' he told her. 'If he's any kind of a man he'll make sure of you soon enough, and not give you the opportunity to fall for anyone else.'

  `It sounds as though you expect him to make up my mind for me,' she said on a quiver of laughter.

  He held her closer still. 'Do you think I couldn't?'

  `But we're not talking about you!' It was very important,

  especially now, to remember that he had no real interest in her. 'You may ride rough-shod over my feelings—'

  'I'm trying not to, sweetheart, but you're not making it very easy for me.'

  'No, but nobody else is as sure as you are that you always know best. Nobody could be!'

  'That might be because nobody else knows you quite as well as I do!' he retorted dryly. He got to his feet, bent almost double because of the lowness of the roof, and dragging her after him, made for the doorway and the open air. `And what you need now, my girl, is a nice long sleep in your own bed!'

  Annot was too tired to notice that Okumu had not come with them until they were almost back at the lodge.

  `Didn't Okumu want to come?' she asked sleepily.

  'He had some other business to attend to,' James told her. pick him up tomorrow. He and I are going up in the balloon by ourselves and he won't want to miss that!'

  She would have wanted to go herself if she hadn't been so tired. 'What's Norman going to do?' she murmured.

  James put a gentle hand on her shoulder. 'You and Norman can bring the Range Rover out after us when you wake up,' he said. 'Norman will know which way we've gone.'

  Annot nodded her consent. In the morning she would probably argue that he had no right to leave her behind, making her arrangements for her without ever consulting her as to what she wanted to do. In the morning she would feel a great deal braver and would be ready to do battle with him again. In the morning she would be herself again and she would wonder what all the fuss had been about.

  The Range Rover drew up outside the lodge and James turned on the interior light, looking her up and down as though he were trying to commit every detail to memory.

  She stirred restlessly; he didn't even have to touch her, she told herself angrily, a look was enough to make her agonisingly, burningly aware of him.

  `Don't hate me, love,' he said, almost as though he were pleading with her, 'I'm only trying to look after you. You don't make a very good job of looking after yourself

  With a lump on her head to prove his point, it was as much as she could do to summon up a tired smile. 'Why should I hate you?' she asked.

  'You may hold me to blame—later. If you were more sure of yourself—'

  'It isn't for me to blame you,' she said primly, her mind firmly fixed on Judith, `so I won't. I'll probably blame myself ! '

  He smiled, slowly and with great charm. 'Not if I have anything to do with it!' he said. And he kissed
her hard on the mouth. 'Goodnight, Annot! '

  That night she hardly slept at all. She blamed the rain that came pouring out of the sky, drumming against the roof and finding every shrunken beam where it could run down the walls, both inside and out. Only to herself did she, admit that her restlessness had other, less mundane, causes. To be knocked out cold was adventure enough for anyone, and she must have been more tired than she knew to have slept like a baby for so long after she first came round. She could remember that moment now, and her own lost cry of pain. It had been after that that James had carried her into the but and, holding her close, had bade her sleep. And sleep she had, the warmth of his embrace giving her a feeling of secure comfort that she could only wonder at now.

  She had slept then, and she might have slept now if it had not been for what had happened afterwards. How could she ever look him in the face again? Annot burned with

  humiliation and shame that she had let him see how weak her defences against him were. They were non-existent! And he had done little enough to encourage her! He would think her wanton or worse, and she so badly wanted him to think well of her. More, she wanted him to think her wonderful—the only girl in the world for him!

  And she had blown it. How could she have done otherwise when she hadn't known what he meant to her? For she knew it now, and could only wonder how dense she had been before. She was in love with James Montgomery, not on the brink of falling for him, not mildly attracted because of the way he looked or because of the masterful air he affected, but devastatingly, irrevocably in love with him!

  Supposing he knew? Annot thought. That would be the worst thing of all If he saw her before she was ready he would certainly know, and she made up her mind that she would do all in her power to avoid him in the next few days, until she had taken a grip on herself, returned her emotions to their usual good order, and made up her mind to seeing him with Judith without feeling sick with jealousy.

  Having come to that momentous decision, she must have slept after all, for the next she knew Dorcas was bending over her bed, willing her to open her eyes and pay attention to the pleasures of the new day.

  'Annot, where did you go last night? You were gone ages!'

  'That's what we'd all like to know,' her mother chimed in, and if Dorcas was no more than curious, there was no doubt that Judith meant to hear all the details of the night before.

  Annot opened her eyes reluctantly. 'I made a fool of myself,' she confessed.

  'What happened?' Dorcas encouraged her, scenting that

  Annot was about to unfold a drama that would be very much to her taste.

  Annot shut her eyes again. She couldn't even bear to look at Judith. If she disliked her, it would have been easier, but she didn't; if she had been going to marry anyone but James she might even have quite liked her.

  'I thought I saw Jeremy,' she said.

  She barely noticed the silence that greeted her words at first, but as it went on and on, she began to wonder why the other two were saying nothing and, wincing a little from the pain in her head, she turned her head to see what they were doing. Dorcas had her mouth open, her eyes blazing with suppressed excitement, but it was Judith's reaction which was startling. Beneath her tan she had gone as white as a sheet.

  'Jeremy?' she repeated on an odd note.

  'My uncle Jeremy,' Annot confirmed. 'I could have sworn I saw his face, but James said I'd been mistaken. The funny thing was that James himself said he thought they'd spotted him from the balloon earlier in the day.'

  'But couldn't you have found out yourself?' Dorcas prompted her. 'I wouldn't have taken James' word for it!' She sighed deeply. 'I'd love to see Jeremy again, I've so much to tell him. He's the nicest man I know.'

  'And the least reliable!' her mother snapped.

  Dorcas gave her a bitter look. 'Just because you don't like him you don't think he can do anything! You don't understand anything about him—'

  'And you do?' Judith mocked her.

  Dorcas nodded defiantly. 'Yes, I do. You don't like him because he despises money, but he has something much better than that! He makes other people happy and and

  he always has time for them. I'm proud to be his friend, even if you're not!'

  'I couldn't care less if I never saw him again!' Judith

  claimed. She still had a funny putty-coloured look to her skin, but Dorcas was too young to notice. She was as furiously angry as only a ten-year-old can be when someone she loves is criticised. Annot wondered how Jeremy had managed to capture her loyalty, and then laughed at herself for pretending not to know. She had felt just the same way about him at Dorcas's age; she did now, though the depth of her loyalty had been modified by time and her own growing up. It had been exactly as Dorcas had said: Jeremy had always had time for her and her most harebrained projects, taking them as seriously as she had herself.

  'Jeremy has a lot in common with Peter Pan,' Annot observed.

  'He has not!' All Dorcas's anger was diverted from her mother on to Annot. 'Peter Pan is wet! His flying is just a pretence, but Jeremy really does the things he tells me about. James knows a lot about the Masai, for instance, but Jeremy has actually lived with them.' A glow shone across her face. 'Annot, is that where you were yesterday? Because if it was, then it could have been Jeremy, couldn't it?'

  'I don't know,' said Annot. She didn't seem to know anything any longer. 'When I thought I saw him I rushed across to him and got clobbered by a piece of sisal: I've got a lump on my head you have to see to believe!'

  Dorcas was suitably sobered. 'James told me. He said on no account was anyone to wake you, but you were to be sure and eat a full breakfast before you went anywhere today. He said you never got anything at all last night.'

  Annot remembered that she hadn't, but she didn't feel hungry enough for food to register very highly on her list of priorities. 'Where is James?' she asked cautiously.

  'Gone off in that damned balloon,' Judith told her. 'Where do you think? He won't rest until he has one of his own,

  though what fun it can be trailing around in that thing is beyond my comprehension.' Her eyes rested briefly on Annot's face. 'Am I right in thinking you're burning to go up in it yourself?'

  `In a way. I'm nervous too, though. The funny thing is that I'm sure I'd feel safer with James as pilot than with Norman, I can't think why!'

  `I'd say it was predictable,' Judith drawled. 'That kind of thing is strictly not my scene—whoever's piloting it. You can draw your own conclusions from that!'

  Annot lay back with a sigh, drawing no conclusions whatsoever from the remark. If James has already gone,' she said, 'who's following him in the Range Rover?'

  'Oh, that?' Judith could scarcely have sounded less interested. 'He took the Range Rover himself to pick up Okumu wherever it was you left him last night. The idea is for you and Norman to follow in Norman's Volkswagen minibus later on.'

  Annot wrinkled up her nose. 'But it's been raining all night—'

  `Men, my dear,' Judith said in withering tones. 'With them, what does a little thing like comfort matter?'

  Annot thought it might involve more than their discomfort if they were to come down in the middle of a bog, and she might have said so, but her mind was taken up by the thought of having to spend the whole day in Norman's undiluted company. She wasn't going to enjoy it, she was quite sure of that.

  'Could Dorcas come with us?' she almost begged Judith.

  `Not today,' Judith answered. 'She promised Fritz to spend the day with him.' She laughed lightly. 'Applying balm to the wounds you dealt him yesterday, poor pet! Or was it James who worsted him?'

  'It was a misunderstanding,' Annot said hastily.

  Judith giggled 'And one you don't want to repeat with

  Norman? Shall I warn him off for you?'

  Annot shook her head; at her age she ought to be able to fight her own battles and not expect other people to defend her from her own folly. Besides, how could she expect Judith to emphasise to Fritz tha
t James was engaged —however temporarily—to another?

  'I'll bet it rains!' she said gloomily.

  'It already is,' Dorcas assured her cheerfully.

  It gave a very unromantic start to the day to be swathed in waterproofs and wellington boots. Annot, filled with a breakfast she hadn't intended to eat, looked at the leaden skies without enthusiasm. 'I think he's plain daft to take a balloon up in this,' she declared.

  Norman silently nodded his agreement, then strode round the minibus and got into the driving seat.

  `Well, why did you let him?' Annot accused him. Norman's features relaxed into a smile. 'Perhaps I wanted you to myself for a whole day,' he suggested.

  'A likely story!' she scoffed. 'Why should you?'

  `For all the usual reasons, don't you know? If it isn't James—and you told me it wasn't—and it isn't that German fellow, perhaps you'll have more time for me. Not much to start off, perhaps, but at least we speak the same language.'

  'We both speak English,' Annot said carefully.

  'And we're both a bit lonely and out of, our depth out here,' Norman went on. 'Might as well admit it, we need each other!'

  Annot relaxed back in her seat. 'I was born out here,' she said, 'it isn't strange to me. Sometimes I feel I've never been away.'

  Norman grinned and nodded. 'You'll feel better when you get back to England. I always do!'

  'I don't think so. When we first went to live in England I missed the wide open spaces so much that I thought I'd

  die. It might be the same again. If I'm ever happy again I think it will be out here.'

  Norman glanced sharply at her. 'Because of the country or the man?'

  'I don't know!' she snapped despairingly.

  'There now,' he said, 'don't go upsetting yourself. Why don't you tell him how you feel?'

  Annot shrugged her shoulders. 'He doesn't want me,' she said, 'not on a permanent basis.' She wrinkled up her nose. 'What a funny smell this earth has after rain,' she commented.

  'Pretty pungent,' he agreed. 'Perhaps it's that dead buffalo over there.'

  'Perhaps,' she said, but she didn't think so. The whole boggy surface of Amboseli seemed to smell to her. It smelt remarkably like the but she had been in the night before. 'Which way are we going?'