Dark Moonless Night
Page 12
Caroline sat opposite him on the couch, sipping her coffee, surveying him unobtrusively over the rim of her cup. Then she said: ‘Why did you come down to La Vache?’
Gareth replaced his cup on the tray. ‘I had some medical supplies which I’d promised to bring down for Lucas.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Caroline offered him more coffee, but he refused. ‘And are you going back to Nyshasa now?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Take me with you!’
‘What?’ Gareth rose abruptly to his feet.
‘Take me with you.’ Caroline looked up at him innocently. ‘I’ve never seen the construction site. I’d like to. And I’ve got nothing to do today.’
Gareth took a deep breath. ‘A construction site is no place for a woman. Besides, I should have to bring you back again. I don’t have that much time to waste.’
Caroline lifted her eyebrows. ‘Then I’d ask Nicholas,’ she replied calmly. ‘I’m sure he’d bring me home.’
She saw the way Gareth’s knuckles had whitened as his fists clenched by his sides. It was obvious that his idea of creating a peaceful relationship between them had not covered every eventuality.
‘Caroline, this is ridiculous, and you know it!’
‘Why?’ She stood up. ‘Where’s the harm? As you pointed out, I shall be back in England very soon. Surely taking me to see the construction site doesn’t present such an insuperable obstacle.’
Gareth shook his head. ‘Caroline, I came here with the sole intention of putting things between us on to a normal footing. I said that continuing to behave as we were doing was stupid. But that doesn’t mean that I want your company any more now than I did before!’
Caroline refused to let him see that he could hurt her so easily. If this conversation deteriorated into a slanging match as it was likely to do if she attempted to retaliate she might just as well give up all hope of Gareth ever taking her anywhere, of having anything more to do with her. She had to remain sweet and reasonable, and not allow him to twist the situation to suit his own ends.
‘But, Gareth,’ she protested appealingly, ‘I’m not asking much. This is the first opportunity I’ve had to go anywhere without the children since we came here. It’s not as if I’m asking you to—well, take me out for a meal or anything. I’m a teacher. I’d be interested to see the dam.’
Gareth chewed his lower lip. ‘Would you?’
‘Yes. Besides, if we can maintain a civil conversation I’ve no doubt you’d be interested to hear how things have changed back home in England. ‘Oh, please, Gareth…Prove you mean what you say.’
Gareth regarded her with obvious misgivings. ‘Very well, Caroline,’ he conceded at last, ‘I’ll take you to the site. But you’ll have to put some more clothes on. I have no intention of taking a half-naked white woman with me!’
Caroline hid her elation. ‘Just give me five minutes,’ she asserted, her voice sounding reassuringly unconcerned. ‘Have another cup of coffee.’
In her room, she rummaged through the chest impatiently, coming up with a pair of pink hipster jeans and a sleeveless purple sweater. She threw off her shorts and pulled the jeans and sweater on over her bikini. Then she brushed her hair vigorously, relieved to see that it was already almost dry. She caught it up off her neck with a navy ribbon, and after a swift appraising glance at herself in the spotted mirror she was ready.
Gareth took in the attractive picture she made in silence, and then indicated the door. ‘I’ve told Thomas where you’re going,’ he remarked as they walked out to the car.
In spite of the fact that Gareth spoke very little Caroline enjoyed the drive to Nyshasa. He was a much more competent driver than either Charles or Nicolas and he handled the powerful station wagon with cool confidence. Once a deer crossed their path, and Caroline exclaimed at its gentle appearance.
‘You never know what you’re going to encounter on these roads, do you?’ she laughed. ‘Have you ever met anything awkward—like a leopard, or a lion—or even an elephant? And aren’t rhinos supposed to be dangerous!’
‘You have a very vivid imagination,’ remarked Gareth dryly. ‘This isn’t a safari park, you know.’
Caroline refused to allow him to dampen her enthusiasm. ‘But there are wild animals about, aren’t there?’
‘Yes,’ agreed Gareth mildly. ‘But the big cats are too fond of their own skin to risk being run down by a car, and we don’t see many elephants about here.’
‘Oh!’ Caroline hunched her shoulders.
Gareth half smiled. ‘You remind me of David,’ he said. ‘You imagine every outing is a big game hunt!’
‘I don’t,’ protested Caroline, forgetting their differences for once and speaking impulsively. ‘I just thought one had to take care, that’s all.’
‘Oh, one does,’ exclaimed Gareth, gently mocking. ‘But no rhino’s going to come and horn us off the road or anything dramatic like that.’
‘How do you know?’
‘The rhino is a rather unkindly-regarded animal. It’s not half as black as it’s painted. It’s very short-sighted, and has to go entirely on its sense of smell. I’m not saying that if you interfered with its way of life it wouldn’t come charging across at you to defend itself, but that’s all. It’s not blatantly malicious.’
‘Have you ever been charged by a rhino?’
Gareth shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not.’
‘Have you had any dangerous encounters with animals, then?’
‘I had a brush with an elephant once,’ commented Gareth reflectively. ‘But Africa’s no longer one enormous game reserve, Caroline. There are too many get-rich-quick merchants trading in skins and ivory for the really valuable species to survive much longer.’
Caroline nodded. ‘It’s such a shame. Why do people always want what they can’t have?’
Gareth’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. ‘A good question,’ he murmured, and she sensed his double meaning.
The construction site was some distance above the falls where the Kinzori forked. It was a hive of activity when they arrived. The enormous concrete structure was already reaching some distance across the fork, baulking the flow of water, a network of iron girders and overhead cranes. The air was thick with dust and there was the constant scream of power drills and the whine of mixers. Caroline had no idea how many men were employed at the site, but there seemed hundreds from what she could see. Some were working on the reinforced structure, while others crawled along the rough gantry which pontooned the river at this point. All around was evidence of a razing of the vegetation of the area, a great man-made clearing that defied the encompassing mass of the jungle. There was something unreal about such a development here, miles from any real civilisation, and it was difficult to accept that without the dam, without the hydro-electric plant which would follow, there could be no real progress. All the same, in its way, it was every bit as alien to this part of Africa as the illicit traders, destroying to a certain extent the animals’ way of life. If a hydro-electric plant was built here, if civilisation as she knew it flourished, where would the wild animals go? It was an insoluble problem.
Gareth brought the station wagon to a halt and climbed out without a word. Immediately two men converged on him from different directions, each concerned with some problem that required his attention. Gareth listened to what they had to say, standing between them, lean and indolent, his hands resting lightly on his hips. In a cream denim shirt and narrow fitting mud-coloured denim pants he looked disturbingly attractive, and Caroline forced herself to climb out of the car to evade such disruptive thoughts. She stood watching the group who had their backs to her feeling decidedly de trop in a man’s world, a feeling which was increased when Gareth seemed to forget her presence altogether and began walking with his colleagues towards a wooden building set to one side of the site. Caroline had seen such buildings on sites back home. They were used by engineers and the like for progress drawings and consultations.
To her dismay, the men disappeared inside the building and she was left alone to view her surroundings. She wondered whether Gareth expected her to sit in the station wagon and wait until he had time to notice her. It was hot and stuffy in the stationary vehicle and she hadn’t come all this way just to sit in a car.
Instead, she wandered a few steps towards the mess of men and machinery that flanked the fast moving waters of the Kinzori, looking up at the vast wall of reinforced concrete which would eventually stem the divided flow of the river. It was fascinating watching the men moving with sure-footed ease along iron girders no wider than a man’s hand, high above the ground, and she paid no attention when she heard angry shouting behind her. It was not until a firm hand grasped her arm, swinging her round so violently that she almost lost her balance, that she realised Gareth had been shouting at her.
He shook his head impatiently at her. ‘Have you no more sense than to walk about a construction site bareheaded?’ he exclaimed, and she saw that he was now wearing a metal helmet for protection. ‘Why didn’t you stay in the car? You must have known I wouldn’t be long!’
He pushed her back towards the station wagon as he spoke, but she protested, turning round to look after her disappointedly. ‘I didn’t think,’ she cried. ‘Couldn’t I put on a helmet, too?’
Gareth tugged his own off, and slung it into the back of the station wagon. ‘Like I said before,’ he intoned, getting into the driving seat, ‘construction sites are no places for women!’
Caroline stared at him impotently. ‘What are you doing? I haven’t seen anything yet.’
‘You’ve seen the site,’ he remarked mildly. ‘That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? Besides, there’s not much else to see. At the moment, the job’s approximately two-thirds completed. We should finish inside six months providing we don’t hit any more snags. Right now, we have some problem with subsidence, but I think we can overcome it. Our biggest enemy is a shortage of raw materials. But that’s not just a problem here; it’s pretty prevalent everywhere. Even in England.’ He rested his elbow on the opened window ledge in his door. ‘There: does that give you a reasonably comprehensive rundown of the state of things?’
Caroline put her hands on her hips. ‘Do you mean to tell me you’ve brought me all this way just to take me back again?’
‘It was your idea, not mine,’ Gareth pointed out dryly.
‘Oh—oh, you—’ Caroline tried desperately to curb her temper. ‘I don’t want to go back yet. It’s only eleven-thirty!’
Gareth glanced at his wrist watch. ‘So it is.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘So what do you want to do?’
Caroline bent her head, scuffing her sandal in the dusty earth. ‘You could show me where you live,’ she suggested. ‘I’d love a drink of something long and cool.’
Gareth tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. ‘Caroline, I have a job of work to do—’
‘It’ll be lunch time soon,’ she declared. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t stop for lunch, because I won’t believe you!’
Gareth studied her a moment longer, and then he said: ‘Get in the car!’ in uncompromising tones.
Caroline hesitated only seconds before walking round the bonnet and sliding in beside him obediently. She slammed her door with trembling fingers and then sat mutinously in her seat. She wasn’t used to being spoken to like that, but his set face had brooked no further argument.
They left the site by the same route as they had reached it, but when they came to a fork in the road, Gareth swung the station wagon abruptly to the left, plunging down steeply through the thick wedge of foreshortened trees and undergrowth. The track was muddy in places and the vehicle slid several yards with ominous speed before Gareth managed to steady their progress again, ploughing over roots and twigs with a strict disregard for the station wagon’s suspension.
Caroline would have liked to have asked where he was taking her, but she dared not interrupt his obvious concentration, and she peered about her instead, wondering what his plans were now.
And then she heard a sound which came delightfully to her ears through the open windows. It was the sound of water breaking over stones, a cooling, deliciously inviting sound in the unpleasant heat of the midday sun. She stared ahead in surprise and presently they emerged on to a fern-strewn ledge at the foot of the falls. High overhead, the narrow bridge that crossed the falls could be seen, but they were almost at the foot of the ravine.
Gareth stopped the car and looked at her with a certain amount of exasperation. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘is this more to your liking?’
Caroline clasped her hands together. ‘Oh, Gareth, you know it is. It’s—marvellous!’
Gareth relaxed in his seat, drawing out a case of cigars and putting one between his teeth. ‘I gather Nicolas didn’t bring you here,’ he remarked, lighting the cigar as he spoke.
‘No. Oh, no, we were further down-stream.’
Caroline slid impulsively out of the car and walked to the edge of the ledge, looking down on to a natural stairway of stone that led down to the swirling waters at the foot of the falls. Above, shelves of rock made smooth by the passage of water spread a cascade of turquoise lace. She turned, half thinking that Gareth was beside her, but it was his eyes that she could feel, watching her from the shadows of the car.
Feeling slightly embarrassed, she walked back to him, brushing threads of fern from the flared bottoms of her jeans. As she reached the station wagon Gareth slid out and stretched lazily, his movements attracting her attention as usual.
‘I suggest we have our lunch here,’ he commented, as his arms fell to his sides. ‘Does that appeal to you?’
‘Our lunch?’ Caroline was taken aback. ‘But—but I thought—’
Gareth’s expression was slightly sardonic. ‘Yes—well, I have to admit that I had no intention of providing you with lunch and what I have will in no way compare to the kind of spread Nick might have provided, but you’re welcome to share what I have.’
Caroline flushed. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘It’s simple really. My houseboy provides me with a packed lunch when I expect to be out all day, and I find some appropriate spot and eat it. It’s as uncomplicated as that.’
‘I see.’ Caroline made an awkward movement. ‘There—there’s really no need to rob yourself on my account. I can make do with a drink until I get back home.’
Gareth gave her an old-fashioned look. ‘Oh, really? And what am I supposed to do? Sit and eat my lunch while you watch me with those big brown eyes?’
Caroline bent and picked up a broken fern, smoothing it through her fingers. ‘I just don’t want you to put yourself out on my account!’
‘Oh, don’t you?’ Gareth exhaled smoke into the air above her head. ‘And I suppose you being here, at Nyshasa, and not wanting to go home again doesn’t put me out!’
Caroline sighed. ‘Do you mind? Awfully, I mean?’
Gareth’s expression hardened a little. ‘If I did, you wouldn’t be here,’ he retorted, and with that she had to be content.
Gareth’s houseboy had provided a more than adequate lunch for one person. There was half a chicken, some cold baked potatoes, tomatoes and salad, and several crusty rolls. There was also a flask of ice-cold beer, but as there was only one beaker, Gareth drank his from the flask.
Despite Caroline’s assertion that she needed only a drink to sustain her, she found herself eating half of the meal that Gareth gave to her with unaccustomed relish. Chicken and salad had never tasted so good, and the rolls were golden brown and mouthwateringly soft beneath their crusty exterior. Even the beer, which hitherto she had always avoi
ded, was cold and refreshing, and infinitely more enjoyable in the open air. They ate their lunch seated on the crumbling bark of some long-dead tree-trunk, keeping a sharp lookout for ants or beetles or any other form of wildlife which might choose to interrupt their meal. Once or twice, Caroline caught Gareth’s eyes upon her with a vaguely indulgent expression in their depths, and her heart beat a little more heavily when she considered how achingly attractive he was in this mood. It reminded her of other occasions when they had shared an alfresco meal, and of how once they had had to shelter for hours in an old boathouse by the Thames after being caught by a sudden summer storm.
When they had finished, Gareth gathered all the odds and ends together and took them back to the car, thrusting the cartons and flask into the box on the back seat. Then he came back to where Caroline was sitting, and said:
‘Well? What do you want to do now?’
‘Are you asking me?’ she parried in surprise, slanting a glance up at him through her long lashes.
Gareth flexed his back muscles. ‘Don’t let’s start fencing with one another,’ he advised, stifling a yawn. ‘I don’t work in the midday sun, and no matter what you’ve heard about mad dogs and Englishmen, quite frankly I’m too tired to play games. I suggest we go back to the car and rest for a while before I take you home.’
Caroline stood up, dusting down the seat of her pants, shivering as an ant detached itself from her leg and dropped to the ground. ‘But how can we rest in the car?’
Gareth regarded her patiently. ‘There’s no problem. You can simply stretch out across the back seat.’
Caroline frowned. ‘But what about you?’
‘I shall use the front seat. Don’t worry—there’s plenty of room.’
Caroline lifted her shoulders and then let them fall again. ‘But—but won’t you be uncomfortable? I mean, you’re much taller than I am—and there’s the steering wheel to contend with.’
‘I hadn’t forgotten.’ Gareth was sardonic. ‘Don’t concern yourself. I can manage.’