The Fire of Life

by Hilary Wilde

  Samantha whistled softly. ' And how did you get on?'

  Rayanne laughed. ' We didn't. Obviously Sister Macintyre didn't like the look of me, but Miss Horlock was a little more friendly. They're both very . .

  Dishy? You bet they are. Deliberately dishy. Silly clots! They ought to know that Cary will never marry. He's married to his work and that's all that counts . . . but they go on hoping, go on trying. It's pathetic, that's what it is. Pathetic. Now hurry and get washed up. I've cooked a good dinner for us all.'

  Rayanne obeyed, shuddering as she slid into the muddy water but enjoying it all the same; grateful for the drinking water with which she washed her face and cleaned her teeth. She put on a green trouser suit and made her way to the house. Mike

  had promised to refill her torch with batteries, apologising profusely for not having checked the night before.

  It was so peaceful sitting on the mosquito-screened stoep. Samantha seemed delighted to have an audience and talked most of the time. She did ask a lot of questions, though, about England, and Rayanne remembered what Cary had said.

  ' I think I could be happy here,' Rayanne said slowly. It's so quiet, so relaxed . .

  And so unutterably dull,' Samantha added.

  Mike Crisp joined them and asked Rayanne how she had enjoyed the day. They talked of animals and soil conservation and the importance of water, and poor Samantha looked bored to tears.

  It was after dinner as they were sitting on the stoep, a starry-skied black night outside with an occasional howl or bark to break the quietness, when the car arrived. It was not a Land Rover but a huge Jaguar.

  Oh no ! ' Samantha half groaned. It can only

  be...'

  Mike had already gone down to meet the visitors. Rayanne stared at the small plump little woman with snow-white hair who came up the pathway, leaning on Cary's arm. She smiled at Rayanne as they reached the house.

  My dear child! ' she said, holding out her hands. ' I'm so delighted to meet you. Any relation of my darling Joe is welcome.'

  I'm not really a relation,' Rayanne said quickly. His goddaughter.'

  What's the difference?' Mrs Jefferson laughed

  happily. He never married for years, you know. That was because of me.' She turned to the silent Cary and tapped him on the shoulder. ' I chose your father, Cary darling. He wasn't so rich, but he was a darling. Like you,' she added, and smiled, then turned to Samantha. You'll forgive me if I take your guest away, won't you, Samantha? I can't bear to think of Joe's goddaughter in one of those ghastly rondavels. I told Cary so, didn't I, darling?' She smiled at him lovingly. As soon as he came home, I was really cross, wasn't I? Rayanne must come and stay with us, I said, and your bedroom is all ready for you, dear child. I am so happy to see you . . . it is wonderful . .

  It might be an idea if Miss Briscoe was to go to her rondavel and pack her things, then come back here. I'm sure Samantha will make us a cup of coffee,' Cary Jefferson said quietly.

  His mother beamed. ' A wonderful idea, darling. I always enjoy Samantha's coffee.'

  I'll go with Miss Briscoe,' said Cary, taking a torch from his pocket. Come along.'

  They walked down the narrow path, Cary striding ahead, Rayanne not sure if she was pleased or not. Living in the same house with Cary? Sitting at the same table at meals? Seeing him so much? Would she be able to hide her secret? Or wake up from the idiotic idea that she was in love with him? How could you love a man you've only known one and a quarter days? she asked herself.

  At the rondavel, Cary waited patiently while she packed. As she straightened, he smiled at her.

  I must warn you of two things, Ray. Mother

  has 'always wanted a daughter, so you'll be smothered, or rather mother-smothered, with love. I hope it won't be a nuisance, because it'll make her happy. Secondly, don't be embarrassed if she matchmakes. Mother is convinced it's time I got married and had at least four children, if not more. She's a frustrated grandmother, you see. Mind, she's very, choosy. She may take a little while to decide if you're good enough for me.'

  ' Well! ' Rayanne felt about to explode. Of all' the nerve . . . ! and then Cary laughed.

  Don't let it embarrass you. I'm certain she'll find you ideal for me and do her best to throw us together in romantic situations.' He chuckled. ' You know, soft lights and sweet music that her generation used to go in for so much. So don't let it worry you. You're quite safe as far as I'm concerned.'

  Rayanne stared at him. She couldn't speak. How dared he talk to her like that! If he knew the truth . . . but he must never know it, that was for sure!

  She managed a light laugh. ' What a joke! I certainly wouldn't want to marry you if you were the last man on earth.'

  ' Is that so?' he asked, and the amusement had

  left his voice. Very interesting,' he added sarcastically. We'd better get going or poor Samantha will begin to scream. She and Mother don't get on.

  He led the way and she watched his back and hated him one moment and knew the next that she could never really hate him. But why did he have

  to be so nice and then so beastly? Saying she was safe as far as he was concerned! Indeed, the arrogance of it. And then the sarcastic way he had said ' Is that so? Very interesting.' What did he mean? Didn't he believe her? Did he, like Samantha, think she had come there for one reason? And one reason only? she asked herself. Him!

  Maybe if she had known him before . . . if they had been old friends . . . but how could you chase a man you had never met? A man you had no desire to meet. But now . . . but now?

  Mrs Jefferson was waiting for them and soon all were in the car, Cary driving. Back at the house, it was ablaze with lights. Mrs Jefferson fussed happily as she led Rayanne to her bedroom.

  You have your own bathroom and loo, dear child, and plenty of hot water. Do you like a big or a light breakfast? In bed?'

  It was a beautiful room, Rayanne thought when she was finally alone and could look around her. She stared out of the picture window at the black night with a dark sky brightened by a beautiful new moon and stars all sparkling. The trees were silhouetted against the sky. Everything was quiet. They were high above the crocodiles and the electric light wouldn't go out . . .

  Lying in bed, Rayanne relived the day, going over her conversations with Cary, wishing the talks were still to be said, for she had enjoyed the day so much. But would he ever be like that again? she wondered.

  Sleepily she lay with just a sheet on her. The room had air-conditioning, so the intense humid heat

  of the rondavel no longer roasted -her. The quick bath she had had had been lovely, too, the water clear and free of mud. She wondered how they had managed it. She had said she would get up for breakfast, but now she regretted it. She was afraid to see too much of Cary, afraid he might see in her eyes the love she could not understand. For how can you love a man you've only just met? she asked herself, and yawned. She yawned again and then fell asleep.

  Rayanne need not have worried, for after she was called with a cup of tea, had showered, and then went to join her hostess for breakfast, Cary was not there. Mrs Jefferson beamed at her.

  ' So nice to have a companion for meals, my dear. I get tired of sitting alone. That's why I'm always trotting off to stay with friends.'

  Doesn't . . Rayanne paused. She had not

  yet called Cary Jefferson Cary, yet she could hardly call him Mr Jefferson to his mother. ' Your son . . . ?'

  ' He rarely eats meals with me. He has his own flat at the other end of the house. You see, he's always out somewhere. We used to fight because he never came in at the right time for meals and I got tired of waiting for him, and he didn't like it because I had waited, so I suggested he had his own little flat, his own cook and so on.' She paused, breathless. When I know he's going to be in the house at a reasonable time then I invite him to dinner and we enjoy each other's company. The trouble with poor Cary is . . .' Mrs Jefferson added sadly as she

  helped Rayanne to kidneys and bacon .
. . is that he's allowed his work to get control of him. He eats, sleeps and drinks conservation. He used to be so different, gay and social-minded, but that was when he was a stockbroker. He did very well. His father and I were proud of him.' She sat down opposite Rayanne and smiled. Am I boring you, my dear?'

  ' Of course not,' Rayanne said instantly. Please go on.'

  Well, my husband died and Cary told me that he had always wanted to have his own wild life reserve. You can imagine how amazed I was. He had never said anything of the sort to his father or to me. I knew he enjoyed coming to the Reserves—he spent all his holidays there if we let him—but for a future! Not that I was worried about money. His father left us both very comfortably off and I knew Cary had been earning good money and had saved a lot of it. But it was the thought of living so far from civilisation—in the midst of wild animals.' She laughed and passed the marmalade to Rayanne ' You're sure you wouldn't like some more kidneys and bacon.'

  ' Quite sure, thank you. You don't mind living here?'

  Mind?' Mrs Jefferson chuckled. ' I hated it at first, but I saw what it meant to Cary, so I put up with it. He's often away for weeks at a time and then I do miss him, so I usually go and stay with friends or invite them here. They find it very exciting. Frankly, it all rather bores me. It seems an awful waste of money to me to bother to keep

  wild animals when there are so many human beings who are starving to death.' She sighed. But there it is, my dear. When you love someone, you accept the fact that their beliefs are almost certain to be different from your own. All I want is for Cary to be happy.'

  It's a very lovely house,' Rayanne said slowly, looking round the lofty room with its walnut furniture and beautiful silver.

  It is, isn't it, my dear? Cary is so thoughtful. He knew how important a beautiful home is to me, so he had it built specially for me. He knows I like entertaining, so there are several guest rooms. It's quite a lonely life, sometimes, though, for when the courses start, I hardly see him at all.'

  The courses?'

  Yes, my dear. We have groups of students who come here for several months to have lectures and see for themselves. Cary feels strongly about this, because he wants more young people to be interested in conservation of wild life. Next week, our next course starts. It can be quite noisy. Young people of today do like such loud music, don't they?' She laughed. My dear child, I forgot you were one of the young people.'

  ' I don't like loud music, either,' Rayanne said with a smile.

  A tall African in an immaculately cut khaki safari suit came in and spoke to Mrs Jefferson.

  Thank you, Kwido,' she said, and turned to Rayanne. Your Land Rover is at the door and Kwido will escort you. He's a well-trained mechanic and a good shot, so you'll be in safe hands. I made

  sure of that. I talked to Cary last night after you went to bed. I said any relation of Joe's must be treated as a V.I.P. He was a darling. I've so much to talk to you about, but of course your work must come first.' She stood up. Kwido will bring you back for lunch and then we can have a long talk. See you later!' Mrs Jefferson gave her a smile and left the room.

  Rayanne went back to her own bedroom and hunted out a notebook and pencil, also her camera. She put on her blue jeans and dark shirt, remembering what Cary had said about publicity ' attracting the monkeys. What was she going to look for? she wondered. Where should she go?

  Kwido was standing by the Land Rover. He lifted his hand in greeting and she lifted hers.

  ' You wish to drive, madam?' he asked politely.

  Rayanne shook her head quickly. She had never dared to try to learn how to drive a car. What a gorgeous source for teasing that would have made! She could just hear her brothers joking about it, and if, by sheer bad luck, she had scraped the car or had an accident, they would never have let her forget it!

  ' I can't drive,' she said simply.

  Kwido opened the door of the Land Rover on her side. Waited while she got in, took his rifle from the back of the truck and put it by his side in front. He smiled, his white teeth bright in his dark face.

  We will not need it,' he said, and it sounded like a promise. Shall I just take you everywhere? Or is it one kind you want?'

  Everywhere, please, Kwido.' She moistened her dry mouth. If only she knew what she was look-

  ing for! Coming out here, though it seemed a bright idea at the time when Uncle Joe had suggested it, had not helped. ' I just want to look around.'

  Kwido seemed to understand. He drove carefully and took her to the different water dams and parked' the Land Rover behind huge shrubs so that they could watch the animals unseen. He showed her chameleons. Kwido seemed to know a lot. He told her how when the chameleon grows old and grey it climbs on to a green twig and is young again.

  It is sad we cannot do that,' Kwido said politely, but with a smile.

  Rayanne had to laugh. She made a note of what he had said. Then he showed her how the chameleon moves slowly, about an inch at a time. Its long sticky tongue shoots out to take its prey and of course it changes colour according to where it is.

  There were many amusing little things Kwido told her to add to her notes. That the lioness is very vicious when she has a cub. Rayanne saw large herds of buffaloes who, Kwido told her, prefer to graze in large herds, but he also showed her how the blue wildebeest and zebra can mix with impalas as well and also baboons quite happily.

  Baboons fascinated her. She made a note to ask Kwido another time to find her some place where she could watch them, for he had already told her they have their own beauty saloons, As in big cities,' Kwido had said, where they clean their young.'

  Kwido took her back in good time for lunch. It had been a hot close morning with small insects flying in her face, and about two pages of notes ! Rayanne showered and changed into a white cotton

  frock. Uncle Joe had warned her it could be very hot, so she had made several very thin frocks, finding it impossible to buy really thin ones in wintry England.

  ' Well, my dear, learned a lot?' Mrs Jefferson greeted her happily. Cary is coming to lunch. He wants to know how you got on.'

  Rayanne knew dismay instantly. Suppose he asked to see her notes? Somehow or other she must decide what she was going to write about. Perhaps his suggestion of gestation and parenthood was the best. If he realised she had no real idea what she wanted to study, he might imagine she was here to chase him!

  She was welcomed warmly by Mrs Jefferson, who insisted that they sat on the stoep and had a refreshingly cold drink before they ate.

  ' Well, my dear?' she asked eagerly. ' How did you get on?'

  Rayanne stretched herself luxuriously on the long low chair. It was most interesting.'

  ' And Kwido?'

  ' Very helpful. It was most amusing about the chameleon . . Rayanne told her hostess what Kwido had said. They both laughed.

  ' My dear child, how delectable! The perfect joke for a dinner party. I must remember it. Did you know your Uncle Joe well? I mean, do you? What is he like now? Of course he's much older . . .' Mrs Jefferson's voice was wistful.

  ' He's very handsome still,' Rayanne could say, and saw the beam on Mrs Jefferson's face. ' He mentioned you.'

  He did?' The old lady leaned forward, her eyes bright. He really did?'

  Rayanne was glad she could tell the truth, for Cary had told her she was a bad liar. ' I remember he said that Cary's mother had been the most beautiful girl he had ever known.'

  He really said that?' Mrs Jefferson's day was certainly made. She leaned back in her chair, waving a little fan before her flushed face. ' He was a darling. His wife?' Her voice changed. I gather she is an invalid.'

  I'm afraid so. She never leaves her house. They live in Gloucester, but he often comes down to see Dad.'

  ' You like him? Uncle Joe, I mean?' Mrs Jefferson asked.

  Rayanne hesitated. Yes, I've always liked him very much, but . . . well, it isn't awfully easy to talk to him. He's reserved.'

  Shy! He always was, poor d
arling.'

  Also I always saw him with Dad and my brothers, and that . . Rayanne paused, remembering Cary's accusation that she was being ultra-sensitive about her brothers. But he was wrong and she was right, she was sure of that! They always teased me, called me Little Girl, and wondered what had happened to my brains as they said I had none.'

  Mrs Jefferson, to Rayanne's surprise, burst into laughter, dropping her fan, clapping her hands excitedly.

  My dear, he hasn't changed at all. That's exactly what he used to say to me, and I would get very angry and then I'd see the twinkle in his eyes

  and I'd know he was teasing me.'

  You mean he said you had no brains?' Rayanne said slowly.

  My dear child, men are all the same. They have to boost their own unsteady egos and they do that by teasing us. You must never let them see you mind That's fatal, because it'll get worse and worse.'

  ' It has,' said Rayanne, her voice sad.

  Mrs Jefferson leant forward. Then don't let it,

  dear child. Remember that as women we are far superior to men, bless their dear hearts, and they know it and resent it. If they tease you, smile sarcastically and say something like : " Look who's talking! " or even more corny, " People in glasshouses . . ." and then laugh and walk away as if no longer interested in them.'

  And it forks?'

  Certainly it works. Or it did over fifty years ago. Don't let them see you mind, whatever happens.'

  I lose my temper.'

  Mrs Jefferson laughed. I used to, but in the end I felt sorry for them. I knew I was superior really; if it made them happier to think they were, well, why not? I lost nothing and they gained a lot.'

  I'll try . . Rayanne said slowly, leaning forward to watch something move on the sand banks that lined the turgid brown river. You don't mind having crocodiles at the bottom of your garden?'

  Mrs Jefferson chuckled. Of course I don't. They're hideously frightening things, but I never go close to the water. It isn't their fault they look like