Kookaburra Dawn

by Amanda Doyle

  While she fought to control this awful, abandoned fit of sobbing, she could hear his deep voice murmuring above her head, while his supple fingers stroked the gentle curve at her nape with a soothing touch that was at once kind and impersonal.

  ‘You’re overwrought, child. You should have been in bed hours ago, like little Magda there. You know, you mustn’t worry about what I’ve told you. You don’t need to worry, you can leave everything to me now, and I’ll take care of her, I promise you. I was only teasing about the country, but I can see you’re really quite scared about it, aren’t you? Those lawyers were supposed to tell you, but maybe they didn’t, or maybe you didn’t read it properly. Anyway, there’s no need to be concerned about Barrindilloo. It’s far out, yes, but it weaves its spell. The Outback always does, you know. It enmeshes people in its magic and wonder and vastness, so that they never want to leave it, and the ones who do leave it almost always want to come back.

  ‘And I crossed again

  Over the miles of saltbush plain,

  The shining plain that is said to be

  The dried-up bed of an inland sea.’

  ‘They always come back, you know. They all cross again, and again. It’s because of the fascination, and the magical quality of the great Australian bush. It’s something you can’t explain, but you become a part of it. It’s a good place for a kid to grow up in, too. Magda will grow into a beaut little Australian, you bet she will—and in just three months you’ll be able to leave her— sooner, if she settles down quickly—and by the look of things that pilot chap’ll be waiting to—’

  Rennie stiffened at that, and tried to push herself away, recalling just where she was, and precisely whose chest she was leaning against in this limp, abandoned fashion—the man who had cheated her, who had misled her so cruelly, who was even now planning to incarcerate little Magda in some godforsaken, treeless prison out at the back of nowhere.

  Chalford Sandasen stepped back, but, as if sensing her thoughts, he took care to retain his grasp upon both her wrists. He jerked them suddenly, angrily, forcing her to look up into his face.

  ‘Don’t fight me, Renata Bentmore,’ he warned her sternly, and his eyes were gimlet hard, like chips of ice, his touch no longer gentle. ‘If you do, you’ll only hurt yourself, because I always fight to win. Understand?’

  Something in his tone forced Rennie to nod her head with patent unwillingness. It was a weary gesture, but defiance still lingered.

  He studied her ravaged face for a moment more, and then he released her, brought a flat, silver-mounted flask from a hip pocket, and poured a measure of the contents into the cup.

  ‘You’d better drink that.’

  ‘I never touch spirits.’

  ‘There’s a time and a place for everything—even spirits,’ he replied expressionlessly. Then—‘Drink it!’ Rennie shot him a quick, scared glance, and swallowed it at a single gulp.

  He waited, unmoved, while she coughed and spluttered, then, noting her returning colour with satisfaction, he slipped the flask away again and said equably, ‘That’s better. I want you out there all in one piece at the ’drome in the morning. And try not to let the child sense that you’re in any way upset or apprehensive, will you? Kids catch on to these things quickly. Goodnight.’

  He was gone before Rennie could even muster a reply.

  She undressed, slipped into her pyjamas and removed her make-up with automatic thoroughness, brushed her long fair hair until it shone with that incredible, gilded pallor that made professional photographers gasp and look again.

  Rennie climbed carefully into the unoccupied bed beside Magda’s twin one and lay back, thinking. She was glad, now, that the man had forced her to swallow his revolting brandy. It had pulled her together. Even now, she could feel its warmth reviving her, coursing through her veins, helping her to think calmly.

  She knew what she intended to do. It shouldn’t be too difficult, either. All she had to do was to make certain that she did not oversleep, or her whole plan would be ruined. It might be better if she didn’t go to sleep at all, in fact, because the success of her entire plan depended upon getting out of here before Chalford Sandasen came back.

  After that, they would simply disappear, she and Magda. Contrary to what he believed, Rennie had enough money with her to see them both over the time it would take to find employment. If it turned out that work permits were necessary, she’d abandon the idea of a professional job with its attendant possibility of publicity and detection, and settle for anything at all. She was strong, and she could clean or scrub or something, or maybe even try some simple cooking. So long as she could keep the little girl with her, Rennie didn’t much mind what she did! Magda would be able to remain in Sydney, and she would be able to go to school, just as all the other thousands of little Australians no doubt did. In Rennie’s free time, they would make straight for those lovely beaches, play on that fine white sand, swim in that sparkling blue Pacific. And eventually they would get back to England. Viv would be willing to help in that way, she was almost sure.

  With her, Magda would remain secure and happy, Rennie would see to that. She need never know how near she had been to a life of desolation and loneliness, shut away in isolation with a harsh, domineering bachelor uncle who talked of crows flying backwards and goannas that walked on their tails. Ugh!

  And he had said that that sort of thing grew on one, so that one never wanted to leave it. Some story, that! What he probably really meant was that, once he got you out there, he would not allow you to leave it! He had every intention of keeping Magda a prisoner there, all her life!

  Well, Rennie’s confessed intention was to thwart his intention.

  She was pleased with herself for having thought up this plan with the aid of his own stimulating dose of spirits. A nice touch of irony, that was!

  She slipped out of bed again, checked her watch, and went through to the small sitting-room. There she switched on the lamp, and began determinedly to read. She had worked out that she must have roughly three hours to fill in before daylight, and she did not dare allow herself to go to sleep. She was by now so tired that she realized, if she did drop off to sleep, that it might be a very long time indeed before she woke up again! Too long, probably!

  She leafed her way blearily through a pile of well-thumbed magazines and periodicals. Nervousness, temerity at her own audacious plan, determination kept her from dozing off.

  When the first grey hint of light appeared at the window, and the first sounds of the day-staff coming on duty reached her ears, Rennie shut the magazine which she had been reading with growing disinterest, and replaced it and the rest of the pile on the small coffee table. Then she went through to the bedroom and packed her evening dress and the other things which she had worn for her outing with Keith. She did not dare to allow herself even to think of him. Thinking hurt. Circumstances were now exactly as they had been before, as far as he and she were concerned, after all, weren’t they? It was 'Rennie and Magda’—not ‘Rennie alone’—and she wasn’t going to risk all that heartache over again. But it was difficult, all the same, simply to close one’s mind to all those freshly-awakened emotions and implications.

  Rennie dressed with speed, and then woke Magda. The child was refreshed after her sleep, bubbling over with high spirits and excitement.

  ‘Oh, Rennie, isn’t it big! Is it all Sydney out there?’

  ‘All Sydney, darling, yes. Quickly, Magda, let’s get your clothes on. We’re going exploring this morning.’

  ‘Exploring? Out there?’ Magda waved a small hand sideways, at the vista beyond the window. ‘How super, Rennie! Can we see a beach? Can we walk on one? Play on one?’

  ‘We might,’ replied Rennie cautiously. Hurry, though.’

  ‘Can we eat first? I’m hungry.’

  Rennie smiled. It was good to hear that Magda was hungry. Her appetite had been poor for a long time now, and she was so pale and thin that it worried Rennie constantly. Perhaps the change
of scene and air were helping already. Perhaps the journey would not have been for nothing, after all!

  Even so, she shook her head.

  ‘We’ll have breakfast later, darling. Somewhere different. Somewhere exciting.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Somewhere secret, not in this building at all. I mean, we ate here yesterday, anyway, didn’t we? We’re going somewhere different.’

  Magda scented mystery. Her eyes began to sparkle.

  ‘Ooh, great!’ she voted enthusiastically, and made more haste with her dressing than before.

  Her eyes widened when she saw Rennie heaving the three suitcases in the direction of the lift.

  ‘We aren’t taking those, are we? Not exploring?’

  ‘We’re going to leave them somewhere, and then go exploring.’

  ‘Why not here?’

  ‘No, not here,’ said Rennie quickly. Anywhere but here, she thought a little desperately. Somewhere where she could claim them later without arousing curiosity or risking detection. A railway station, maybe. That would be an anonymous sort of place. But first she had to get them downstairs.

  ‘You wait here with the hand-luggage, Magda. I’ll order a taxi at the reception desk, and then I’ll come back for you. Sit there and play with Panda for a minute. Tell him what we’re going to do, and think about what you want for breakfast when the time comes. I’ll get you a really big breakfast today, if you’re hungry—at the secret place!’

  A minute or two later Rennie lifted the cases over to the reception desk, and asked if it would be possible to obtain a taxi at such an early hour. She almost sighed audibly with sheer relief at the affirmative reply she received.

  ‘Certainly, madam. Just ask the hall porter over there, will you?’

  ‘A taxi? Yes, of course, miss. Is that your luggage there? Just the three pieces, is it? I’ll take care of it.’

  ‘And I’ve a few things yet upstairs. I shan’t be a moment.’

  Rennie turned in a hurry, cannoned precipitately into the tall, khaki-clad figure standing right behind her.

  Chalford Sandasen steadied her by the simple expedient of gripping both her arms in a vice-like hold. His fingers bit cruelly into her soft flesh as he restored her balance, and looked down.

  ‘Going somewhere? I don’t think so!’ The green eyes were curiously hard as he answered his own question.

  ‘Cancel Madam’s taxi, will you, Enrico? The lady has changed her mind,’ he told the porter calmly.

  ‘And the cases, Mr. Sandasen?’

  ‘No, you can leave them where they are. We’ll be checking out shortly.’

  ‘Very good, sir. Thank you, Mr. Sandasen!’

  Enrico pocketed his tip and retired discreetly behind a potted palm in the forecourt, and Rennie was left standing in that sea of marble foyer, alone with Chalford Sandasen.

  Right now she was receiving such a keen and estimating assessment that it made her prickle with guilt and embarrassment.

  ‘You weren’t thinking of running out on me, by any chance, Renata?’ he drawled in amusement. The unexpected and deliberate use of her Christian name seemed to bring her even closer to her persecutor. ‘It must have taken you the rest of the night to hatch up this one! I can see you haven’t slept a wink!’

  ‘Oh, go away!’ Rennie stamped her foot in sheer vexation.

  ‘Now, that’s just the one thing I won’t do, I’m afraid,’ he told her regretfully, but his eyes mocked, and there was a nasty lift to the mobile mouth too. ‘And neither will you—or not just yet, at any rate. When we go, Renata, we’ll go together, do you understand? You, me, and Magda. I must congratulate you on your effort, though,’ he added graciously. ‘It was a pretty fair try, in fact. A pity your dawn-time vigil was all for nothing, but I have an inconvenient habit of waking round about piccaninny daylight, and it did pass through my mind that you might attempt something of this sort.’

  ‘I think you’re smug and insufferable!’ Rennie informed him with a look of pure loathing.

  ‘And I think you are too tired and confused to give a worthwhile opinion,’ he replied evenly. ‘Now, go and get Magda, will you, please, and join me for breakfast in the dining-room. I was half-way through when you went sneaking past. I reckon my steak and eggs will be cold by now. Come straight to the table, and don’t try to bolt again, will you? I might not be quite so forbearing the next time!’

  Rennie turned on her heel, speechless, still seething.

  ‘Oh—and Renata?’

  ‘Yes?’

  Grinning, he pointed to the three large suitcases.

  ‘Next time you try to do a Malley’s Cow, my advice is to go light-on with the trappings. You hadn’t a hope in Hades with that lot, plus a kid!’

  She walked in huffy silence to the lift, ignored the soft chuckle that followed her before he went back into the dining-room. When she returned with Magda, he got to his feet, seated Rennie herself and then the child.

  ‘This is Mr. Sandasen, Magda.’

  ‘Hullo there.’ He looked down at the pale, upturned face with its angry red scars, still liverishly evident. ‘So you’re Magda, eh? How old are you, Magda? Six?’

  ‘Seven.’

  ‘Seven.’ He resumed his seat. ‘At the very peak of female wisdom, I should say. After that, their judgment begins to deteriorate’—this with a meaning glance in Rennie’s direction. ‘Are you hungry, Magda?’

  ‘Yes, Mr. Sandasen.’

  ‘You’d better call me Chad,’ he told her carelessly, and smiled in a sudden fascinating, eye-crinkling way that Magda appeared to like. ‘Have you got it? Chad? Everyone calls me that, from here right up to the Gulf. So you’d better do it, too.’

  ‘Yes, Chad.’

  ‘And you are hungry, you say? That’s good! What would you like?’

  ‘I could eat a horse,’ announced Magda with unaccustomed enthusiasm.

  ‘A horse? Well, they mightn’t have an actual horse listed here, Magda, but there’s plenty of number one tucker, all the same.’

  Chad leaned over, a brown finger following the words with Magda, as he read out the menu.

  When he had ascertained her choice, he turned to Rennie.

  ‘And for you?’

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ Rennie stated dully, and it was certainly no more than the truth.

  He took in the whiteness about her wilful, expertly rouged mouth, the smudges under the sherry-brown eyes that even Rennie’s skilled professional hand could not entirely conceal.

  ‘You’re going to eat something, all the same.’

  He ordered for them both, poured himself another cup of coffee, caught Magda’s eye and grinned' conspiratorially, and the child smiled back.

  ‘I like it here, with you,’ she averred solemnly.

  Oh, Magda! Rennie cast her a reproachful glance, which was entirely lost upon its recipient. Magda beamed, and continued with bland and fetching innocence.

  ‘I didn’t think I’d be here for breakfast, Chad. Me an’ Rennie was going somewhere else to have it, weren’t we, Rennie? Somewhere secret.’

  ‘Were you, indeed?’ came that deep interested murmur smooth as cream, and Rennie knew, without even having to look, that one eyebrow would have lifted quizzically as he said the word. She kept her eyes down, scarlet-faced.

  ‘Why didn’t we go, after all, Rennie? To the secret place?’ inquired Magda curiously.

  ‘I—we—because I met your uncle Chad—a bit unexpectedly, Magda, and I decided we’d have breakfast here instead. It was one of those sudden decisions. We weren’t to know that we would run into Chad when we decided to go to the secret place, were we?’ she replied as calmly as she could.

  ‘No, we weren’t, were we?’ muttered the man at her side, so softly that only she could catch the words. ‘And we’re still very angry that we did run into him, aren’t we, Renata? But we mustn’t sulk over breakfast, all the same. Another piece of toast?’ he queried, in normal tones.

  ‘No, thank you,’ she snapp
ed repressively, hating him more with every minute that passed.

  Already he had managed to win over Magda, with a snap of the fingers, just like that! One crinkle-green glance, a crumpled smile, a little charming patter and—pouf!—a small, silent worshipper had been enslaved. Why, right at this minute they were busy smiling away at each other with mutual abandonment, oblivious to the fact that there was a third person at this table at all!

  ‘I’m ready,’ said Rennie, in a small, pale voice.

  ‘Right. In that case, we’ll go.’ He turned to Magda. ‘I’m going to take you home now, Magda. Home to Barrindilloo. You’ll like it there. There’s lots of sunshine, and places to swim, and I’ll show you how to catch fish in the pool in the creek. There are horses to ride, and sometimes poddies to feed. Real kangaroos and emus. And in the evening the little ringtail possums come out to feed on the gum-leaves, and the bush is filled with all the strange little noises of the night-feeding animals and birds. We’ll sit out under the stars, you and I, and I’ll tell you what every one of those sounds is, so that you’ll know them, too, and each creature that makes them. And there are lots of people at Barrindilloo, too, friends just waiting for you to come. They know all about you, although you don’t yet know them. They know your name and everything, and they’re looking forward to the moment when you step down on to the strip, because they know you’ve come a long, long way already, right across the world from London, and that when you step down on to that airstrip, you’ll be home. Now there’s just a little way further to travel. We’re going to do it in my plane, which is out at the ’drome waiting for us. You won’t mind a ride in another plane, will you, Magda? A smaller one, this time?’

  ‘Not if Rennie comes too,’ said Magda immediately, and just then her small fingers closed convulsively over Rennie’s own hand in a heart-warming way that, to Rennie, was a reward in itself. ‘You are coming, aren’t you, Rennie?’