Dark Moonless Night

by Anne Mather

  But Nicolas was not so easily diverted, and he was drawing her back into the circle of his arms when a car came accelerating up the slope to the house. ‘Blast!’ he swore angrily, obviously annoyed at this unwelcome intrusion, but Caroline could not have been more relieved. Although her relief turned to something else when she encountered the grim face of the man who was just climbing out of his station wagon.

  Nicolas had to release her then, and he rose to his feet and went down the shallow steps to greet the newcomer. ‘Well, well, Gareth,’ he said, walking towards him. ‘You’re an unexpected surprise!’

  Gareth looked beyond Nicolas to Caroline and she sensed his awareness of her confusion as something like distaste flickered across his face. Then he looked at Nicolas. ‘I was passing and I thought I’d call in for a drink,’ he explained. ‘However, if I’d known that you had—company—’

  ‘—you’d have come anyway,’ finished Nicolas, with a wry twist to his lips. He gestured towards the steps. ‘You’d better come in now you’re here. What’ll you have? Something sharp and cool, or some beer?’

  ‘Beer would suit me fine,’ replied Gareth, stretching lazily, lean and disturbingly male in a cream shirt and shorts. ‘Hello, Caroline. Fancy seeing you here!’

  ‘Leave the girl alone,’ commanded Nicolas goodnaturedly, his initial annoyance at Gareth’s appearance disappearing beneath his genuine liking for the man. ‘Excuse me a minute while I get the beer from the fridge, won’t you?’

  He went into the house and Caroline gave Gareth a slightly uneasy appraisal. ‘Won’t you sit down?’ she suggested awkwardly, feeling at quite a disadvantage. ‘It’s very hot, isn’t it?’

  To her astonishment, Gareth walked the length of the verandah to relax beside her on the cushioned lounger, his tanned legs stretched out in front of him. Then he looked sideways at her and she saw his eyes were not relaxed at all. ‘Don’t make small talk with me,’ he advised sharply. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  Caroline might have expected him to make some comment on her presence at Nicolas’s house, but what she was not prepared for was the anger in his tones. What was it to do with him what she did? She’d have thought he’d be only too glad to shift her company on to another man’s shoulders in the circumstances. Unless…Unless he was jealous! She savoured the idea. Was it possible?

  She slanted a glance in his direction. ‘I didn’t think you’d care what I did,’ she murmured provocatively.

  ‘I don’t,’ he returned killingly. ‘I only care about Nicolas.’

  Caroline stifled the desire to retaliate in kind. She hadn’t his command of language, and she was quite aware of her limitations when it came to verbal conflict. Forcing a faint smile to her lips, she said: ‘Don’t you think Nicolas is old enough to look after himself?’

  Gareth’s smile was not pleasant in return. ‘Oh, yes, he can look after himself. Unfortunately, he sometimes requires a little encouragement to remain faithful to his wife!’

  Caroline’s lips parted in horror. ‘He’s married!’ she breathed disbelievingly.

  ‘And of course you didn’t know.’

  ‘No!’ Caroline sat up stiffly. ‘How could I? I’m not a mind-reader, and I can assure you Nicolas didn’t tell me.’

  Gareth studied her indignant face. ‘What about Lacey? Didn’t he say anything?’

  ‘I haven’t discussed Nicolas with Charles, if that’s what you mean. There was no need. Until today I doubt whether Charles ever considered it necessary that I should be told such a thing.’

  Gareth removed his disturbing gaze. ‘You might be telling the truth,’ he commented consideringly, making Caroline seethe with righteous anger. ‘If you are it’s good that I happened along.’

  ‘And did you?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Just—happen along?’ Caroline’s voice was cold.

  ‘No. I knew you were here.’

  ‘How did you know that?’

  Gareth gave her a sideways glance. ‘Does it matter?’ His eyes were unwavering. ‘Where are the kids?’

  ‘Resting.’ Caroline bent her head, unknowingly exposing the soft nape of her neck. ‘So you see, there was no great seduction scene going on.’

  ‘Now then—here we are!’

  Nicolas came bustling cheerfully out of the house carrying several cans of beer, his eyes flickering instantly to where Gareth was seated beside Caroline. Caroline supposed that to an onlooker, unaware of what was being said, they must appear to be getting along famously, and she was tempted to imply just that. After all, Nicolas deserved some kind of a let-down after the way he had deliberately deceived her. He must have known that she knew nothing about his wife. He might even have children of his own. The realisation was humiliating.

  Now Nicolas ripped off an automatic can-opener and poured its contents into a glass frosted with ice. Then he came along the verandah and handed the glass to Gareth. ‘I think you’ll find that to your liking, my friend.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Gareth nodded, but made no attempt to get up and allow Nicolas to resume his previous position. Instead, Nicolas had to draw up another chair and sit in it.

  Conversation was somewhat stilted. It was as though they were all absorbed with their own thoughts, and Caroline thought she could guess what they were. Nicolas had to be wondering whether Gareth had said anything to her regarding his marriage, Gareth was no doubt contemptuous of the whole situation, while she knew that Nicolas was no longer to be trusted. It did not make for an easy relationship, and she was almost relieved when David and Miranda came scampering out to join them, flushed and bright-eyed after their sleep. David was delighted to see Gareth and lost no time in demanding to know when he was going to take them to see the hippos as he had promised. Miranda pretended to want to know, too, but Caroline sensed that her enthusiasm was diluted by no small trace of apprehension.

  While Gareth spoke with the children, Caroline was aware of Nicolas’s eyes on her, willing her to make some move so that he could speak to her alone. But she refused to meet his gaze. She could not forgive him for placing her in such an ambiguous position.

  At last Gareth rose to go and Nicolas rose, too. He thrust his hands deep into his trousers’ pockets and said: ‘You’re not by any chance going down to La Vache, are you, Gareth?’

  Gareth turned to him, his eyes narrowed. ‘As a matter of fact I am. Why?’

  Nicolas shrugged. ‘I wondered whether you might take the children home. I—er—I’m having a little dinner party this evening, and I thought perhaps Caroline might stay—’

  ‘No, thank you.’ Caroline spoke without waiting for him to finish what he had been about to say. ‘I couldn’t possibly do that. And—and as—Gareth—is going down to La Vache, perhaps he wouldn’t mind taking all of us home. It—it would save you the journey, Nicolas.’

  Nicolas looked furious at this summary dismissal of his plans. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ he stated sharply. ‘I brought you here. Naturally I shall take you back.’

  ‘But that’s ridiculous, Nick,’ declared Gareth, strolling lazily along the verandah and down the shallow steps. ‘There’s absolutely no reason why you should make a special journey when I’m going that way in any case.’.

  Put like that there was little more Nicolas could add. Without Caroline’s support he was defeated, but she glimpsed the anger burning in his eyes. But her relief at escaping from an impossible situation was such that it was not until they were actually on their way to La Vache that she had pause to wonder whether her action might not reflect on Charles. But surely not. Nicolas couldn’t be so vindictive, could he? And besides, what had she done after all?

  Her anxiety communicated itself to Gareth and he gave her a swift look before picking up speed again as the bridge disappeared behind them. ‘What’s wrong?’ he queried mockingly. ‘Regretting it so soon?’

  ‘You would think that, wouldn’t you?’ she countered, torturing the strap of her shoulder bag. ‘As a matter of fact I was won
dering whether—well, whether my coming away like this has made Nicolas very angry. I mean, angry enough to—to bear a grudge.’

  ‘Against whom? You? I hardly think so.’

  ‘No. I meant Charles, actually.’

  ‘Charles.’ Gareth’s lips curled. ‘Ah, is that to be your excuse? You’ll only accept Nick’s invitations to protect Charles! Now why didn’t I think of that?’

  Caroline bore his mockery in silence, hating the way he took every opportunity to make a fool of her. Why couldn’t they ever have a normal conversation? If he really despised her so much why didn’t he treat her with indifference and not with this almost cruel derision? Or did he simply get a certain amount of satisfaction out of hurting her?

  Wanting to destroy his cool sarcasm, she said: ‘And what will you do, Gareth? If I decide to go on meeting Nicolas?’

  ‘I shouldn’t have thought after the way you cut and run just now that there was much likelihood of that,’ he replied.

  ‘Wouldn’t you?’ Caroline assumed a nonchalance she was far from feeling, but a need for retaliation had convinced her that she might just as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. ‘Well, perhaps you’re taking this whole thing too seriously, Gareth. Just because I was—taken unawares by what you told me, it doesn’t mean that I no longer find Nicolas an attractive man. After all, he is, isn’t he? Very attractive, I mean.’

  She saw his fingers tighten on the wheel and a wave of exultation swept over her. At last she had succeeded in getting under his skin. It was a small victory, but perhaps it would show him that he was not going to find it so easy to control situations when she had nothing to lose. But that very realisation was almost sufficient to dislodge the small veneer of confidence she had acquired. Still, she had to go on.

  ‘I should imagine any virile married man would find such an isolated life hard to bear,’ she remarked idly, casting a casual glance round at the children, who were happily absorbed with some counting game David had invented. ‘But a wife doesn’t always want to share such a primitive existence, does she? And from what I can see, those men that do bring their wives here come off worst. Was that what went wrong with your marriage, Gareth?’

  His fingers were suddenly biting into her knee and his voice was taut as he said: ‘That will do, Caroline!’

  She looked down at his hand on her leg and a quiver of emotion ran through her. It was true, she thought in amazement, accepting a fact which had hitherto meant little to her. Hate was akin to love, and although he was bruising her it was infinitely better than when he was mocking her. In fact, there was a certain masochistic pleasure about inviting violence that went well with her mood of determined provocation.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she queried. ‘Was that a little too close to home?’

  ‘Caroline, I warn you…’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ She slanted an amber gaze in his direction. ‘And what are you warning me about? Whatever I choose to do or say, you have no authority over me, have you?’

  ‘Caroline!’ He spoke between clenched teeth, and she allowed a small smile to touch her attractive mouth.

  ‘Don’t get so angry, Gareth,’ she taunted. ‘And please—take your hand off me.’

  Gareth removed his hand abruptly to the gear lever, changing down as they descended an incline where a family of baboons blocked the road. For a few minutes he was occupied with dispersing the impudent brood and answering the children’s excited questions, but when the vehicle could accelerate again, and David and Miranda were staring wide-eyed out of the rear windows, he said: ‘I think I understand what you’re trying to do, Caroline, but you won’t succeed.’

  She frowned. The momentary respite had given him time to compose himself, to rationalise the impulses which she had aroused in him. She glanced impatiently back at the baboons. If only they had not appeared at such an inopportune moment!

  She looked down at her hands. There were other ways to disconcert him, of course. There was the oldest way in the world, that of making him aware of her in a wholly physical way, but she doubted her ability to carry it off. And in any case David and Miranda had now lost sight of the baboons and as their counting game had been interrupted they demanded attention.

  The remainder of the journey was accomplished without words between Caroline and Gareth, and she was almost glad when they reached the comparative sanctuary of the Laceys’ bungalow.

  CHAPTER SIX

  IT was several days before Caroline saw Gareth again.

  Charles had some free time due to him and he decided to take a few days’ holiday to show his wife and family a little more of the country around La Vache. Naturally, Caroline accompanied them on these outings, and it was usually left to her to entertain the children while Elizabeth monopolised Charles’ attention. Not that Caroline really minded. Apart from the fact that it made things easier all round if Elizabeth was in a good mood, it also enabled Caroline to put thoughts of Gareth to the back of her mind. She refused to consider what her next move would be so far as he was concerned, and waited with an aching kind of impatience for something to happen.

  One day they went to visit the mission at Katwe Fork. Laurence Barclay, the missionary, welcomed them warmly, and his wife Helen insisted that they stay for lunch. The Barclays were quite a young couple, in their early forties, Caroline gauged, and she wondered what it was that had made them uproot themselves from a comfortable living in England to this out-of-the-way spot.

  After lunch, Helen showed her over the small school. Elizabeth was quite content to relax with the two men while the children had their rest in the Barclays’ bedroom, but Caroline, being a teacher herself, was fascinated by the work of these African children. She began to see, as the standard of work increased amongst the older ones, that teaching unformed minds could be quite an incentive.

  She complimented Helen on her success, but the older woman deprecated her praise. ‘I enjoy it,’ she said simply, flicking through the pages of an exercise book. ‘These children aren’t brainwashed by television, or by the possessions of the child next door. They don’t constantly strive to be better than each other, and yet there is a friendly rivalry amongst the older children that makes for good development. Besides, they all want to go to Luanga.’

  ‘The main school,’ put in Caroline.

  ‘That’s right,’ Helen smiled. ‘Unfortunately, we can’t teach every child who needs to be taught as yet, but I’m hoping that some of my earlier pupils will come back after they’ve finished their training and help here.’

  Caroline examined a charcoal drawing. ‘Do you think that’s likely?’

  Helen shrugged. ‘If they’re not corrupted by the outside world, I think it’s very likely. Unfortunately, every country in Africa is becoming more and more what you would call civilised, and with civilisation comes greed and envy and all the other deadly sins.’

  ‘But surely you’re not saying that these people never feel greed or envy?’ exclaimed Caroline.

  ‘Oh, no, I’m not saying that. Of course they do. They’re human, after all, despite hundreds of years of unformed opinion to the contrary. But the family is important here, every member of it, and therefore there isn’t the competition of brother against brother. They don’t possess much, but what they do possess is shared—not boasted over. If only people would realise that possessions don’t mean a thing. It’s people that matter; human relationships. There’d never be the trouble there is in the world if people would only accept a small bite of the apple instead of demanding it all.’ She coloured suddenly. ‘Oh, dear, I’m sorry, Caroline. I’m making a speech, aren’t I? Laurie gets so angry with me for doing this. I shouldn’t try to push my ideas on to others. I suppose in its way, it’s every bit as bad as the things I’m railing against.’

  Caroline smiled. ‘Don’t be silly, Helen,’ she murmured, turning away to look at some pictures pinned to the classroom wall. She didn’t want Helen to see her face just then. What she had said made sense. It also illuminated very clearl
y the things she had said to Gareth seven years ago. ‘I—er—I was interested. And I do understand what you’re trying to say. Unfortunately, we’re imperfect beings in an imperfect world, and there’s little we can do about it.’

  Helen sighed. ‘I know, I know. We can never go back to a state of innocence. I sometimes think even our children are born out of a sense of competitiveness. Certainly we introduce them to such things very early in life—a desire for our child to walk before someone else’s, to get its teeth, to eat by itself, to use a potty…Oh, Caroline, these people see life for what it is—a small space of time before a greater space to come.’

  Caroline turned. ‘You make it sound very convincing, Helen. Do you have children of your own?’

  Helen straightened a pile of textbooks. ‘Yes. I have a son, Caroline. He must be twenty-four now.’

  Caroline frowned. ‘And does he live in Tsaba?’

  Helen shook her head. ‘No. He lives in England. As far as I know in a small village in Wiltshire.’

  ‘I see.’ Caroline sensed she had intruded into some private tragedy and quickly changed the subject. ‘How many children are there in the school altogether?’

  Helen walked to the blackboard and began to erase the chalked instructions written on it. ‘Why don’t you ask me why I don’t know for certain where my son lives, Caroline?’

  Caroline moved awkwardly. ‘It’s nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Maybe not. But you have every right to ask, all the same. After all, I’ve just been sounding off to you about families and relationships.’

  ‘Oh, really, Helen—’

  The older woman turned. ‘No, really, I’d like to tell you. I find you have a sympathetic character, Caroline. You never know—my experience might help you at some future date.’

  ‘It’s your personal affair, Helen.’

  ‘I’m not disputing that. But it’s no secret, if that’s what you’re thinking. Michael is our only child. When he was born I was so ill the doctors forbade me ever to have any more children.’