Always a Rainbow

by Gloria Bevan

  He shrugged broad shoulders. “You should know.”

  “Well, I do! He asked me to marry him and I—” She stopped short. Horrified, she realised she had fallen right into the trap. Why couldn’t she have kept quiet, let poor John keep his disappointment to himself without her blabbing it out to all and sundry? He was still waiting. He seemed in no hurry at all today, standing in the kitchen, needling her into saying things she knew she was going to regret terribly when she had time to think about it.

  “Go on, Twenty. You were saying...?”

  There was no help for it. He had left her in a cleft stick. “I refused him,” she muttered. At least she’d let him know that someone loved her, wanted her. Funny little unreliable Twenty from whom he appeared to derive so much entertainment, who alternately amused and exasperated him.

  “Great!”

  She stared at him bewilderedly. “What’s good about that?” Her tone said, “And what’s it to you anyway?”

  “Tell you some time. Right now I’ve got to get cracking!” He swept a jam tart from beneath her hand and went out, whistling a tune as he strolled outside.

  That evening she had finished her chores for the day and was seated in the lounge when the telephone rang. She answered the call to hear Susan’s clipped tones. “Is that you, Angela?” Some nuance, a note of triumphant excitement in Susan’s voice left Angela with a premonition of disaster. “Is Mark about? There’s something I wanted to tell him. It’s about Brian.”

  The thought flashed through Angela’s mind that Susan was waiting, hoping Angela would express some curiosity in the matter. Once again the warning signal flashed in her mind and she felt that even though the message might not concern her, the less she said at the moment the better. “I’ll get him,” she told Susan, and fled. Mark was in the small room along the passage he called his office. When she knocked lightly on the door and entered the room she found him seated at a desk littered with papers. He glanced up, his abstracted gaze changing to one of interest and pleasure. But of course, she told herself, stifling the momentary surge of happiness, no doubt he was tired of working on his tallies and only too glad of any interruption.

  “What’s the problem, Twenty?” Their glances locked and with an absurd sensation of sinking in deep waters she dragged her thoughts aside and said quickly, “It’s Susan, on the phone. She wants to speak to you ... something about Brian.”

  “Brian!” He leaped to his feet and accompanied her along the passage.

  As he picked up the telephone receiver she went into the lounge and closing the door behind her fixed her eyes on the newspaper in her hand. But all the time her thoughts were with Mark. She could hear the deep murmur of his voice and it seemed an age until he came into the room where she sat alone.

  The moment she glimpsed his face she knew something was very wrong. The icy blue of his eyes struck a chill in her heart, but she made her voice light and friendly. “Did you get some good news? I mean,” at his forbidding expression her voice faltered, “he’s all right, isn’t he?”

  “So far as I know there’s not a thing wrong with him.” Running a hand along the mantel, he felt for his pipe, took a lighter from his pocket.

  “Well then, you found out something?”

  He flicked the lighter and over the flame his intent gaze met her own. “Why didn’t you tell me that Martha was at the rodeo that day? That she met Brian there?” His voice was rapier-sharp. “It was Martha, wasn’t it, the red-haired girl he was seen talking to by the chutes that day?”

  She dropped her gaze, swallowing unhappily. “Yes, it was her. But—”

  “And you didn’t let me in on it? Why, Twenty? What was the idea of keeping it to yourself?”

  She had no answer ready, for how could you say, I thought if I told you you would suspect me of being in on the whole thing, helping the other two to arrange a meeting. I thought you would hate me all over again and I couldn’t risk it. She whispered, “I didn’t think it was all that important at the time—”

  “Important!”

  “Then afterwards—”

  “Afterwards,” the inexorable tones prompted.

  “I don’t know,” she said helplessly, “I just didn’t, that’s all.” She could see suspicion clouding his eyes and small wonder! She was giving an impression of being either an utter dimwit or, worse, someone who had taken pains to keep the meeting a secret. At that moment he had moved a long way from her. She knew that whatever small amount of trustee had managed to engender during her stay here had fled and she was back to sneaky two-faced Angela, Martha’s friend, who couldn’t tell the truth if she tried. The thought stung her to make some defence and she cried angrily, “Anyway, how did you know?”

  His lips twisted sardonically. “Your guilty look right at this moment, for one thing, and for another the local grapevine reports seeing a stranger at the rodeo who was looking for Brian, a girl with flaming red hair who took care to keep herself pretty well out of sight on the grounds. But of course,” his tone was soft and deadly, “you know all about this. You were seen talking to her afterwards just before she left in the rental car!” So he knew about that too. With a sickening feeling of despair she realised that once again he was her enemy. It was there in his accusing stare, his steely tone. He had utterly lost faith in her. And just when he had begun to believe in her a little.

  “Truly,” she went doggedly on, “I got the shock of my life to see Martha there. I just couldn’t believe my eyes, though I should have known after that telephone conversation I overheard the other night—” The moment the words had left her lips she knew she had put herself in a worse position than ever.

  He pounced on the words. “So there was something arranged between those two beforehand? Something you knew about?”

  “Yes—no! I didn’t realise—” All at once she was more angry than she had ever been in her life. The hazel eyes blazed and her husky voice shook with an intensity of feeling. “It was only after I saw them together that it struck me they had arranged to meet at the rodeo! And if you want to know why I didn’t tell you that—well I’m telling you now! It was because I knew you wouldn’t believe me!”

  Something in his disbelieving hard glance sparked her to run wildly on saying the hateful things that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside her. “I suppose it was Susan who let on to you about all this,” she flung bitterly towards him. “That ring on the telephone just now—”

  He said quietly, “Actually quite by chance she happened to run into one of the rodeo riders this morning and he mentioned having seen them together. The grapevine around here is very efficient. Susan thought she’d better pass the information on to me in case it happened to have some bearing on Brian taking off like he did.”

  “You believe her,” she muttered childishly over the pain in her heart, “you always believe her.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? Sue isn’t in the habit of lying—”

  “Or cheating or hiding things?” Frantically she wound a coppery strand of hair round and round her finer. The husky tones were choked with tears. “Is that what you’re telling me?” she cried unsteadily.

  “I didn’t say that. Twenty!”

  “But that’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? Anyway, you’re all wrong about me,” she cried recklessly, “and I’ll prove it to you too!” Even as she spoke a plan was forming in her mind. Why not find Martha herself and make the other girl admit to this hard-eyed man whom she loved so desperately, so hopelessly, that Angela had had nothing to do with Martha’s scheming? Yes, that’s what she would do. She didn’t know how she’d manage it, but somehow ... She refused to leave here for ever knowing that he still thought the worst of her. “Give me a day off work,” she challenged him, “and I’ll show you!”

  “No problem, Twenty. You’re due for some leave, anyway. I was going to put it to you.”

  She raised eyes bright with unshed tears. “Tomorrow?”

  “If you like.”

  Swiftly she follo
wed up her advantage. “And you’ll let me have a driver for the day. I want to go to Whangarei.”

  He nodded. “Can do. What was it you had in mind?”

  But she had had more than enough of his sardonic look, his disbelieving blue stare. “I’ll tell you if my plan works out,” she returned fiercely.

  He didn’t press her further. “It’s up to you. Twenty. I’ll see that you have a car around at the door right after breakfast. Okay?”

  “Thanks a lot,” she said stiffly, and turned towards the door. His mocking smile recalled her. “You know something, young Twenty?”

  Flushed with anger, she tossed the long bright strands of hair back from her face and threw a backward glance over her shoulder. “What?”

  “Just—you look wonderful when you get really het-up! That high flush in your face really does something for you!”

  “Thanks very much!” Angela relieved her pent-up feelings by slamming the door behind her with such violence that the noise reverberated throughout the silent rooms.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  That night Angela lay awake hour after hour, tossing, turning, thinking, planning. The blinding anger that had possessed her earlier in the day had died away, leaving only the dull ache of misery and admit it, the searing jealousy of Susan. It wasn’t fair for Mark to be so quick to believe the other girl, almost as quick as he was in condemning her. But she would make him believe her! Not love her, that thought had become so far beyond her reach as the blazing triangle of stars forming the Southern Cross she could glimpse through the uncurtained window. All at once it had become the most important thing in the world that Mark should change his opinion of her and time was running out. Maybe in finding Martha she would also succeed in locating Brian. There was always a chance of success. She had a whole day to pursue her enquiries and anything could happen in a day. Anything? Like Mark saying “I was all wrong about you, Twenty. Sorry. Don’t go, Twenty, stay here with me. I love you.” How ridiculous could you get? In spite of herself the tears came and she dashed them away, forcing herself to think of tomorrow. She’d have to have some plan.

  She was awakened from uneasy sleep by the throaty calls of the plump native pigeons perched on a high tree behind the homestead. Recollection arrived with a rush and she leaped out of bed, pulling on a filmy lilac nylon brunch coat and snatching up her toilet bag on her way to the bathroom and a quick shower.

  She would leave breakfast ready for Mark and Kevin when they arrived back at the house. But there was no need, she found a little later as she made toast for herself and sipped a mug of coffee, for it was clear that the two had already helped themselves to an early meal. That left her little to do beyond preparing a light lunch of ham and salad. Presently wearing blue denim jacket and brief skirt, blue and white sneakers on her feet, she hurried down the steps. Early as she was, however, the car was already drawn up below and she could see someone seated in the driver’s seat.

  The next moment a tall lean masculine figure got out to open the passenger door and she halted, staring full into Mark’s unreadable face. “Don’t look so staggered, Twenty! You did say nine o’clock!”

  Darn him, he knew very well what was making her look surprised. “I know I know, but I didn’t expect—”

  His face was deadpan.

  “The driver? Oh, I had to run into town today, some urgent business turned up. I thought it would be a good chance to take you in and pick up the other thing at the same time.”

  “Oh.” Hot with shame, she got into the dust-coated late-model car. How could she have been so crazy as to have imagined even for a moment that he wanted to accompany her to town? It just showed that love could make you blind, lead you into forgetting that merely because you were longing to be with him every minute of the day the feeling wasn’t a two-way one. He slipped the car into gear and they moved past the shepherds’ bungalows. Pamela was looking out of a window, smiling and waving, and Angela waved in return. How strange, she found herself thinking, that the other girl was probably envying her this trip to town for the day. If only Pamela knew the unenviable task she had set herself there!

  Mark seemed to pick up her thoughts. “You’re pretty determined about this idea of yours, aren’t you, Twenty?”

  “A bit,” she admitted in a low voice. No need to let him know that the determination was prompted by his own attitude towards her. She just had to clear herself of everything of which he was silently accusing her before she left here for ever. Pain clutched her heart at the thought of how little time was left. “Been to Whangarei before?”

  “No, I told you I’d just got off the ship a couple of weeks before I came here.”

  “The ship”. Now he’d be linking her with Martha once again, unfavourably of course. If only she hadn’t worded her answer in that particular way!

  “That’s good,” his even tones wrenched her from her thoughts. “It’ll all be new to you. I’ll be able to show you around, take you for a run out to a few of the beaches along the coast.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll be ... busy.”

  “Shouldn’t take you too long,” he observed carelessly.

  He didn’t believe her. It was beginning to become a refrain, her theme song at Waikare. He thought she was only talking, making a gesture, but she would make him change his mind.

  “Don’t look like that, Twenty.” His cool sideways glance took in the shadowed eyes, the droop of the soft lips. “This is your day off, a sort of holiday, remember?”

  “Is it?”

  “Well it was your idea,” he pointed out. “You must be enjoying it, Twenty, a day like this! Tell me, did you ever in your life see such a big blue saucer of a sky. And those tree ferns down in the gully, clear-cut against the blue! What more could you want?”

  I want your, trust Mark. I want to mean something to you. You think I’m just Twenty, a silly kid who lets everyone down. But I’m a woman, Mark, a woman who loves you. Aloud she murmured slowly, “it’s beautiful, all of it.”

  “I knew,” he observed with satisfaction, “that you’d come around to my way of thinking!”

  So it was to be a “be-kind-to-Twenty” day. If he were going to be nice to her, she couldn’t bear it, not today. Twenty! Not anyone you could take seriously, just a silly kid who couldn’t help telling lies at every opportunity. A kid who had some wild notion in her head about finding her friend Martha. She hadn’t a hope in the world, of course. She was a stranger herself in the place, but might as well go along with her. The odd things she did were quite amusing ... up to a point.

  And yet, and yet ... She stole a glance towards the strong profile at her side. Tough and brown and alive-looking with the look in his eyes of a man accustomed to gazing into far distances. Once again she forgot everything else in the acute consciousness of his nearness.

  The winding north road was new territory to Angela. They swept along a windy ridge then dropped down and soon they were climbing once again, running through a clean white country township on the brow of a hill. On either side of the line of modern stores green paddocks fell away. “That was Wellsford,” Mark told her. “Nice little country town. They say the place got its name by using the first letter of the names of the early settlers.” He skirted a dead possum lying on the road. Presently they were moving between long lines of toa-toas, their feathery banners tossing in the wind, then they approached forestry huts gleaming through thickly-planted pine plantations.

  Ahead rose gorse-covered hills, the perfume of the yellow blossoms strong on the air, then they were climbing the steep bush-clad slopes where the winding road swung around endless bends with always a higher hill above. Now the damp pungent smell of thickly growing native bush was all around them. Tall pungas with their lacy umbrella-like fronds brushed against the roof of the car and beside them tiny waterfalls trickled down fem-encrusted banks. Up and up until at length they reached the summit and Mark pulled off the highway at a look-out-point of the mountain. “It’s quite a climb up the Brynderwyns.” Car
elessly he threw an arm around the back of her seat. “From up here you can see for miles!” She struggled to follow his gaze, but she was acutely conscious of his nearness. She fancied he was touching her hair but of course that was ridiculous. Probably he wouldn’t touch her for a bet now that he distrusted her more than ever. She tried to concentrate on his voice. “Over there, Twenty, your first glimpse of the Pacific!”

  She nodded. “It’s got that misty blue look of really deep water.”

  “Fantastic, isn’t it?” He gestured towards the vista spread far beyond the bush-covered hills dropping away below. “See that mountain that looks as though it’s rising up out of the sea?” She followed his glance towards a high jagged peak piercing the translucent blue. “That’s Old Manaia. From the road when you get close it looks like the profile of a Maori zvahine carrying a baby in a shawl on her back piccaninny fashion.” His gaze roved over the clusters of gay red and green roofs glimmering through greenery, in the distance. “Over there’s Whangarei. They call it the “sunshine city” and that’s not a bad description.” His eyes narrowed. “One of these days I’m going to build me a boat and take off from the boat harbour there, go cruising around the Bay of Islands, laze around in the sun on the beaches. All you need is the craft, the time, and the right companion. How does that strike you. Twenty?” He sent her his teasing grin, the sort, she told herself bitterly, he probably kept for children and herself. The thought brought with it a tide of resentment and she heard her own voice saying, “You should keep it in mind for Susan.”

  “Why Susan?” She could have sworn the bewilderment in his gaze was genuine. “How do you mean?”

  She said very low, “I was thinking of a honeymoon.”

  “You do get hold of some odd ideas, Twenty.”

  “There’s nothing odd about honeymoons,” she muttered, unable now to control the anger and frustration that had taken over.