A Summer Storm

by Robyn Donald

  Suddenly bitter, she said, ‘It’s easy to say, isn’t it?’

  His breath exhaled from between his teeth. Fascinated, she watched as his eyes darkened, narrowed. ‘Are you so determined to cling to the protection of your inferiority complex?’

  ‘Is that what it is? I suppose when you were the tallest in your class you were admired for it. I hated it. I was a freak.’

  ‘All right, so it was painful to mature so much earlier than your classmates, although I can’t help feeling that someone should have taken the time to convince you that height is something to enjoy. And I dare say that all through school the boys of your own age were too insecure to be interested in a woman so much taller than they were. But what have you been doing since then?’

  ‘He emphasised the question with a little jerk of her wrists. She stared at him, some part of her brain aware that, although he was holding her firmly, she was in no pain from his grip. He would hold a woman like that in love, she thought suddenly, so firmly yet with the utmost gentleness.

  ‘Well?’ he prompted. ‘I can’t believe that every man you’ve ever met is so insecure that he needs the reassurance of a woman shorter than himself. Or that so many have taken you at your mother’s valuation-’ He stopped, and she saw him make the connection. ‘Yes, of course,’ he said slowly, his eyes keen and hard as they surveyed her stiff face. ‘Because your mother’s valuation is also yours, isn’t it?’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s also everyone else’s valuation. Look, I don’t want you to think I’m some drag who has to sit at home every night. I go out, I enjoy men’s company, I-’

  ‘How many men have you become serious about?’

  Stiffly she said, ‘That’s my business.’

  His sharp gaze was pinning her mercilessly, flaying through the defences that pain had built around her heart. ‘What do you do to them when they start to fall in love with you, Oriel? Freeze them off, as you’re trying to freeze me off? It won’t work. I know that beneath that serene innocence there’s a woman of powerful emotions and passions. Emotions and passions I want.’

  ‘You said there wouldn’t be any repetitions,’ she said breathlessly. ‘You promised.’

  ‘I lied.’

  Like one enchanted, she watched his head come towards her, his features sculpted out of bronze, the delectable lower lip held slightly away from that thinner top one. Before his face swam in her vision she thought fancifully that his top lip denoted his will-implacable, unsparing-the bottom the sensual side of his nature.

  And then their mouths touched, and she was no longer capable of thought. Weighted by an intolerable desire, they sank down on to the rug. The sun warmed her shoulders, heated her hair, and the dazzlement of the day combined with his enslavement of her senses to hold her prisoner. Almost fainting with pleasure, the only movement she could discern was the leaping of her pulses through her warm, lax body. Apart from their mouths they touched nowhere else but their hands.

  ‘So sweet,’ he whispered on a shaken sigh. ‘Release me from my promise, Oriel.’

  A faint remnant of common sense made her lips form the word no.

  ‘Then I’ll have to kiss you until you give me what I want,’ he threatened.

  ‘The children.

  ‘Playing pirates. They’ll be happy until we call them.

  Tell me that I can kiss you again.’

  She gave a half sob. ‘Why? You don’t keep your promises. Why do you want my permission to do something you’re going to do anyway?’

  His laugh was a warm breath on her lips. ‘Because I want it.I need to hear you say it.’

  ‘Surrender?’

  ‘Perhaps. But in this war there are no losers.’

  It took all her will-power, but she forced her laden lashes up, saw the glazed silver of his gaze lit from within by a sensuality so intense that she was burning up in it. She said thickly, ‘I won’t. You might not lose, but I will.’

  ‘Why?’

  But she was aware of how close she had come to giving herself away. She shook her head and scrambled to her feet, and he let her go, saying casually, as though they had never exchanged that kiss, ‘One day, Oriel, not too far distant, you’ll give me what I want.’

  ‘This is sexual harassment!’

  He laughed at her. ‘Have I said I’ll fire you if you don’t give in to my wicked desires?’

  ‘No, but you can make my life impossible.’

  He got to his feet in a single lithe movement, towering over her in a warning that was only implied, but very obvious. ‘You could stop me,’ he pointed out‘ in a steely tone, ‘by simply saying no and meaning it.’

  She bit her lip but parried, ‘I can want you and not want you to kiss me. For you it’s an amusement, something to pass your holiday away pleasantly. But for me-have you thought how it might affect me?’

  ‘You have no idea how anything affects you,’ he said cruelly. ‘You are about as naive as the normal thirteen-year-old girl. Is that it-are you a coward, Oriel? Do you really want me to leave you alone?’

  ‘Yes!’ she cried passionately, wounded and angry.

  He looked at her, his handsome face hard and unyielding. ‘Sure, Oriel?’ His voice was silky-soft, almost soundless.

  A gull called a warning. Sand granules on her legs began to itch slightly. A vagrant breeze lifted the heavy, silver-backed leaves of the trees above her and moved them slightly, then released them back into sleep. Simon gave a bloodthirsty yell, collapsing into laughter when Sarah responded with a ferocious war chant. Oriel was very still, her face pale and tight and bitter.

  ‘Is this what you want?’ Blaize pressed. ‘If you tell me now to stop pestering you I will, permanently.’

  It will be for the best, her mind told her quivering heart.

  ‘Oriel?’

  Harshly, the words impeded, she said, ‘I want you to leave me alone.’

  She didn’t expect him to turn and walk away, as though he couldn’t bear to look at her, but that was what he did. Numbly, she watched the lean figure in faded shorts and T-shirt stride without a backward glance across the hot sand and disappear around the rocks at the end of the beach.

  Still staring after him, she heard the children's yells of greeting, and a rousing chorus of ‘Sixteen men on a dead man’s chest’, with the shattering feeling that she had indeed shown herself to be a coward, let something very rare and beautiful slip through her fingers. No, had wilfully smashed it, fouling it with her own stupidity.

  Then she thought bracingly, You see, he did only want to amuse himself. Otherwise he’d have tried to talk you out of it. You’ve had a narrow escape. And in time this stupid, totally unwanted love will die and you’ll be able to look at him with nothing more than liking and respect.

  But, You’re a fool, her heart jeered. A fool, a cowardly fool. You’ve always been afraid, too frightened to let anyone close in case they found you wanting. He saw. He knows. ‘Freeze them off.’ Just as you froze him off.

  Face set, she began to pack the remnants of their picnic away.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BACK at the house Oriel took Sarah up to her bedroom and helped her wash her hair in the shower. Sarah prattled about her wonderful day, submitted to a vigorous towel-drying of her-hair and asked if she could wear her prettiest dress to greet the guests. She would eat an early dinner on a tray but was allowed to stay up until eight. I

  Oriel picked up a comb and kissed the little button nose. ‘Yes, of course you can.’

  ‘Can I stay up until nine o’clock?’ she pleaded.

  ‘No.’

  Why not? Simon’s going to. He doesn’t have to go to bed till eleven o’clock, he told me.’

  ‘You know what Uncle Blaize said, cherub, so don’t twist that pretty face up into a scowl.’ Oriel began to comb the fine tresses into order, firmly repressing memories of the afternoon and how it had felt to have Blaize tend her hair.

  Sarah sighed, but she was a biddable child who responded well to firmness. She
said tentatively, ‘Can I see what you’re going to wear?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ In spite of her convictions Oriel knew she was going to wear the Decadence outfit, and without a bra. Just once in her life she wanted to look daring, even slightly wicked. Aloud, she said, ‘Bring a book along and you can read while I shower and do my hair.’

  For, much to her delight, Sarah was now able to read some of the simpler books in her shelves.

  On the way to Oriel’s bedroom Sarah askexi even more tentatively, ‘Can I sit on your bed and watch you get dressed? Sometimes Mummy let me do that, and she used to put a tiny bit of eyeshadow and some perfume on me, and Daddy would say, “And who’s this beautiful woman? I think I’ll take her out tonight instead of you, Sue.” And Mummy would pretend to cry, and I would tell him he was a bad man to make her cry and he had to take Mummy out.’

  Her voice wobbled ominously. Oriel leaped down and tucked her hand in hers, afraid to speak in case she said the wrong thing.

  Sarah clung. After a moment she whispered, ‘Oriel, where are they now? Mummy and Daddy? Is it dark? Are they together? They wouldn’t like to be all by themselves, Oriel.’

  Oriel sat down on the stair and pulled her into her lap. ‘Dear heart,’ she said, stroking the damp hair off the tragic, bewildered little face, ‘I’m sure they’re together, and I’m certain it isn’t dark.’

  ‘Why did God take them away? He doesn’t need them as much as we do. Simon misses them too. And so does Uncle Blaize. When we came home from the fun’ral I sat on his knee and I was crying and Simon started to cry too, and Uncle Blaize cuddled Simon too-and Oriel, Uncle Blaize cried too, I saw the tears in his eyes. I didn’t know grown-ups could cry, Oriel. Oriel, why did God take them away from us?’

  ‘Oh, darling, we don’t know why He does some of the things He does. We just have to believe that He knows best. I know it’s hard to understand, even grown-ups don’t understand, but darling, the hurting will go away some day, I promise, and you’ll be able to remember them without feeling so sad.’

  Sarah pressed her hot little face into Oriel’s breast, weeping, seeking comfort. Her heart aching at the tragedy of it, Oriel’s too-vivid imagination supplied the scene when the three of them had mourned their loss. She leaned her check against the soft, baby-fine hair and rocked back and forth, uncaring of the footsteps in the hall below. They slowed, but she didn’t look up, and immediately they faded away towards the back of the house.

  After a while Sarah’s sobs died away and she sat up, saying drowsily, ‘I was nearly asleep.’ Her arms wound around Oriel’s neck as she gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. ‘You’re nice,’ she said. ‘I like you better than my last governess. She was grumpy and she didn’t pat my back when I cried and she was always very happy.’

  Familiar with the brisk, impersonal cheerfulness that was the trademark of nurses and teachers, Oriel understood exactly what Sarah meant. Returning her hug, she replied, ‘I like you too. Now, how about coming up to my room so I can get ready for this party?’

  Still sniffing but apparently comforted, Sarah agreed, her hand tucked firmly into Oriel’s as they turned off the landing. I

  She watched eagerly as Oriel made her preparations, and when finally she was ready said, ‘Oh, you look so pretty!’ her voice awestruck as she watched Oriel parade about the room in an imitation of a model’s smooth glide. ‘Like those dolls in the shop windows.’

  Oriel grinned as she made an elaborate curtsy. She allowed herself one look over her shoulder at the raspberry and white skirt and the thin white top. Surveying the bare, sleek lines of shoulder and breast and waist, she wondered for a horrible panicky moment whether she was being ridiculous, whether she was too thin to wear the clinging garment with any panache. Morbidly her eyes searched for rib-bones, until she realised what she was doing and frowned with vexation, looking hastily away.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said gravely.

  A week ago Kathy had come home from Russell with a lipstick the exact colour of the skirt. As Oriel applied it she heard Blaize’s voice in her mind. Like kissing a flower, he had said... Pain struck a hammer blow to her heart. She saw her eyes dilate, then narrow, the blue draining into darkness. What had she done when she’d rejected him?

  A knock on the door straightened her back. Her first breath was like a dagger in her heart, but she forced her mouth into some semblance of a smile and called, ‘Come in.’

  It was Simon, very elegant in the outfit all trendy teens were wearing that summer-dark trousers and a round-necked, vaguely Cossack shirt with long, full sleeves caught into a band at each wrist. The fine white cotton set off his tan to full advantage and emphasised the colour of his hair and eyes with superb effect.

  ‘You look stunning,’ Oriel said sincerely.

  He grinned. ‘So do you. Very smart.’

  ‘What about me?’

  He walked around Sarah, now standing beside the bed, and pretended to survey her. ‘Choice, Sarah. Get another couple of teeth and you’ll be the belle of the ball.’

  She pulled a hideous face at him, then gave a hop and ran across the room. ‘Come on,’ she urged. ‘I want to see the party.’

  ‘After you’ve had your dinner.’ Oriel smiled at Simon and said innocently, ‘I wonder if Kathy has anything extra on Sarah’s tray. Hop down and bring it up here, will you, Sim, and we’ll have a six o’clock feast.’

  Kathy had considered the never-ending hunger of adolescent boys, for there were two plates on the tray, and far more food than Sarah would be able to eat.

  ‘You and Kathy are two in a million,’ Simon said, astounding Oriel by giving her a quick kiss on the check before settling down to demolish his share.

  Half an hour later they took the empty trays back to the kitchen, washed the dishes, then set off on a tour around the house. Kathy had retired to her flat to dress, and Blaize, so Simon informed her, was once more holed up in the library with James Weatherall.

  So they were free to wander through the rooms and admire the great bowls of hibiscus flowers that lit up selected corners with their saturated reds and iridescent golds, crimson and pink and maroon, amber and ochre and saffron, silken petals burning with the fierce heat of their tropical homelands.

  The house flowed together to provide an ambience for every taste, from the wide terraces with their views of the sea and the swimming-pool to the cosy comfort of the small sitting-room with its sofas and chairs, ideal for those who wanted a restful party. The design was brilliant, for as well as being a comfortable holiday home it was perfect for entertaining.

  For both Simon and Sarah the piéce de résistance was the food set out on the screened terrace, a long buffet of every delicious resource the region offered.

  ‘There’s going to be crayfish and fish and all sorts of shellfish,’ Simon offered, in the tones of one who could hardly wait. ‘They’re in the chiller-room. But it looks just like a banquet, doesn’t it?’

  It did indeed. Kathy had arranged the food with a casual country sophistication that made a glowing, beautiful picture suiting both the occasion and the setting.

  From the doorway Blaize said, ‘So this is where you all are. I should have known it would be with the food! Let’s have a look at you.’

  Sarah ran across and pirouetted in front of him, saying eagerly, ‘Oriel did my hair a new way, with her drier. Do you like it?’

  ‘It looks charming,’ he said, touching the bell of hair around her chubby little face. His gaze bypassed Oriel altogether and came to rest on Simon. Those devastating brows rose. ‘Exotic, Sim.’

  He grinned. ‘Just because you’re stuck in a groove it doesn’t mean I have to be too. After all, anyone can wear a silk Italian shirt, but it would take a brave man to wear this outfit and get away with it.’

  ‘You look very good.’ Blaize’s eyes measured the straight young figure. ‘I think you’re going to be as tall as your father by the time you’ve finished growing. You can certainly wear clothes as well as he did.�
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  He couldn’t have said anything that gratified Simon more. Flushing, he said awkwardly, ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Let’s go and have something to drink while we wait for our guests.’

  But Sarah stopped him from turning completely away by saying urgently, ‘What about Oriel? Don’t you like her dress?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said with cool and completely snubbing courtesy. ‘Oriel always looks charming.’

  Satisfied, Sarah took his hand and went with him, but Simon, older and more observant, sent Oriel a puzzled glance. Like her, he had seen that his uncle hadn’t looked at her once. A cold pang in her heart made her catch her breath, but she managed to produce a teasing smile, and saw Simon relax. O

  He bowed and held out his arm. ‘Madam,’ he said with a flourish, ‘allow me to escort you.’

  Smiling, she laid her hand on the white material of his shirt and they followed the other two out on to the terrace.

  It was the beginning of an evening of agony for Oriel, a time when she realised just what she had done by rejecting so wholeheartedly whatever it was that Blaize had offered. Not that he was rude; he didn’t need to be. He introduced her with that same chilling, aloof courtesy to all his guests-local farmers and fishermen and their wives and girlfriends, many of the other holidaymakers with permanent baches around the Bay of Islands, friends up from Auckland-‘to provide the locals with some amusement’, as James Weatherall told her, sotto voce-in all ways he couldn’t have been more polite, more interested in making sure she had a wonderful party-or more distant.

  The distance she could have borne; what tore her feelings to shreds was the way members of her sex watched him, the eager anticipation in the eyes of the unattached women and more than a few of the attached ones, and the open avidity with which they responded to his presence, the undignified manoeuvring to get near him. And when they had caught his attention, the coquettish laughter and inviting body language with which they tried to keep it.