Always a Rainbow

by Gloria Bevan

  “That depends.”

  All at once the humiliating thought struck her that he had no doubt been referring to a male friend to help crew that dream craft of his. And she had betrayed all too clearly her interest in his love life. Oh, why did she say these things? She never used to be so stupidly emotional! Blame it on falling in love with a man who couldn’t care less about her. Now she could have bitten out her tongue, for his face had hardened, all the lighthearted friendliness (even if it had been merely surface variety) wiped away. No question whatever that in his book she was right back to being “Martha’s friend” with matrimonial dealings on her mind! Once again she had spoiled everything with her thoughtless remarks.

  “We’d better get cracking.” He thumbed the starter and guided the car down the winding bush-lined highway. Presently they were moving into the suburban areas of New Zealand’s most northerly city and in silence she watched as the timber homes with their blazing flower borders, asters, petunias, stocks, went flashing by. Blossoming shrubs studded spreading lawns around modern ranch-style homes. Bougainvillea threw its scintillating cerise mantle over fences and open porches and everywhere along their way jacarandas flung their shower of fragile lilac blossoms high against the blue.

  Soon they were moving into the city, pausing at a red light. Then the signal flashed green and they were swinging into a wide street lined with attractively-dressed shop windows. She caught glimpses of summer clothing, fishing gear, underwater needs, picnic and barbecue outfits, all the requirements of life in high summer in a town ringed by flawless sandy beaches. “Would you put me down here, please, Mark?”

  He braked to a stop alongside the kerb. “Right! See you in half an hour?”

  She eyed him in consternation. “Oh, I’ll need much more time than that!”

  “Two hours, then!” He made no mention of Martha or of Angela’s purpose in coming here. He didn’t wish her luck. He simply consulted the silver watch on his bronzed wrist. “Pick you up here then, okay?”

  She hesitated. “I expect I’ll be ready then, but I’ll meet you here anyway to let you know how I got on.”

  Watching his face as he guided the car into the traffic of the busy street, she thought bleakly, he still doesn’t take me seriously about this. He imagines I’m just talking, pretending. That’s the awful part about someone who’s never had faith in you, they don’t believe anything you say, ever. But if only I can find Martha he’ll have to believe me. I’ve got to find her!

  The street was crowded with shoppers and no one seemed in a hurry. Sun-tanned women and girls wore gay sleeveless dresses and men were attired in brightly tinted shirts open at the neck, cool shorts and sandals. Sunshine sparked Angela’s hair to glinting copper and many interested glances were thrown towards her, but, absorbed in her own problem, she did not notice. She was here in Whangarei. Where to begin her enquiries? A red telephone booth on the street corner gave her an idea. Luckily the booth was empty and inside she thumbed through the directory. If she could locate Harvey she might glean some news of Martha, perhaps even find her address in the city. Unfortunately, she realised the next moment, he would not have been here long enough to have his name in the directory, if indeed he were still here.

  She decided to take a long chance and contact one of the supermarkets. If he had planned to go into business someone in the same line might recognise his name. The manager, when she contacted him, proved helpful. Yes, he had met Harvey Brooks in Whangarei a few times and he had his telephone number. Harvey hadn’t yet decided whether he was setting up in business in Auckland, Whangarei or Wellington and he travelled a lot between the three places. Still, there was no harm in trying and he wished her luck.

  She needed all the luck that was being handed out today, she told herself a few moments later when a telephone call put through to the number elicited the information that yes, Harvey did make his headquarters there while in Whangarei, but at the moment he was away and not expected back for two weeks.

  Encouraged by the woman’s friendly attitude, Angela took her courage in her hands and explained that it was really a girlfriend of Harvey Brooks whom she was trying to locate. She was a stranger in the country herself and this girl had come out from England on the same ship only a few weeks previously. Martha was the name, Martha Stanaway.

  The pleasant voice was helpful. Yes, she told Angela, she knew Martha. The other girl had been to the house on a few occasions. She had written down her address as there was no telephone in the flat and Martha had thought Harvey might wish to contact her. If Angela would wait just a moment ... Groping in her bag for paper and ballpoint, Angela held her breath. Surely she couldn’t be so lucky so soon.

  The woman returned in a few minutes. “This is the address, but if I were you I’d get a taxi. It’s a bit difficult to explain how to reach there unless you know the town.” It was good advice. Angela thanked her unknown helper, then went on down the street with its shady shop awnings until she reached a taxi rank. The driver knew the address and they cruised along various streets until at length he drew up outside a block of newly built brick apartments. She asked him to wait until she returned. “I shouldn’t be long.”

  “Sure.” He unfolded his newspaper.

  Hurrying in at the entrance, she took the stairs two at a time. Number four was plainly marked over the door and as she rang the bell once, twice, three times, she could hear the sound echoing in empty rooms. At length the door of number five was opened and a barefooted girl wearing a brief blue nylon negligee thrust a tousled head from the opening. “If you’re looking for Martha, she’s not there. She left yesterday.”

  “Left?” Angela’s spirits plunged down, down. Still clutching at a ray of hope, she said, “But she’ll be back ... won’t she?”

  The girl shrugged plump shoulders. “Your guess is as good as mine! All I know is that she paid her rent up to date and took off. For good, if you ask me! She didn’t say where she was going, just said something about her plans coming all unstuck and she was moving on—” She broke off, becoming aware of the stricken look of Angela’s face, the defeated droop of her shoulders. “Is she a particular friend or something?”

  Angela nodded dazedly. “Well, sort of. I was hoping to contact her, that’s all.”

  “Tough luck. Sorry I can’t help you. Maybe she’ll get in touch with you herself some time. I scarcely knew her really, only spoke to her a couple of times.” The plump kindly face expressed surprise that anyone should appear so distressed over not seeing Martha Stanaway. “If she comes back by any chance shall I give her a message? Tell her you called?”

  Angela shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It’s too late, you mean? Oh well, I guess it’s just one of those things.” Her tone quickened with concern. “You’re feeling all right, aren’t you? You look so white all of a sudden. If you’d care for some tea it wouldn’t take a minute. A drink of water?”

  Angela’s smile was shaky. “It’s kind of you to offer, but no, thanks. I’m quite all right, really.”

  The plump girl looked unconvinced. “I guess ... if you say so.

  Angela went blindly down the stairs and out to the waiting taxi.

  “Where to now, miss?” She stared blankly towards the driver. “Oh, back to the street where you picked me up please.”

  She thought he looked at her strangely. Did the disappointment show so much?

  When she got out at the taxi rank she paid the driver, then started to walk back along the street, not caring or even knowing where she was going. Was there any other way to find Martha? Not that she could think of. One thing was certain, there was nothing to be gained in staying in Whangarei. The slight lead she had had had ended in a blind alley. She could have achieved as much by telephoning directly from the station, saved herself the heartache of being with Mark and knowing all the time ... He would never believe she had even tried. What a fool she had been to imagine she could solve her problems by a trip to town. Moisture misted her e
yes and she saw the sunshiny street through a blur of tears.

  When someone hurrying up alongside took her arm, she started violently, then stared up into Mark’s face. “You! You waited for me! You’ve been here in the car all the time!” Groups of shoppers pressed around them and he guided her towards the edge of the pavement. Angela said in a low tense tone, “You didn’t think I’d do anything about finding Martha! You thought I was just talking!”

  He stared down at her, “Come on, Twenty, don’t take on—”

  “Take on?”

  “You’re all wrong, you know! My bit of business didn’t take long to fix up. I simply thought your enquiries might take less time than you expected too.” His grip was biting into her bare arm. “Why are you so suspicious?”

  She wrenched herself free. “Why are you?” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry I said that! It’s just that I was upset about something else.”

  “You mean, no Martha? That was the big idea in coming here, today I take it?”

  She nodded, dropping her lids to hide the shadow in her eyes. “No Martha. But she had been here! I found her flat, but she had left, yesterday.”

  He said with unexpected gentleness. “Does it matter so much?”

  “It seems it does to you,” she said in a muffled tone.

  “You know something, Twenty?” He studied the downcast lashes on the pale face, “I’m inclined to believe you.” His grin was inexpressibly heart-warming to her taut nerves. She stared up at him incredulously. “You do? But I thought—”

  “You thought wrong, then.” His voice softened. “Did you really imagine that knowing you I’d still think—”

  The sense of relief was so great it was making her feel lightheaded. “I you want to know what Martha and I talked about that day at the rodeo—” she cried eagerly.

  “Forget it, Twenty!” Linking her fingers in his warm grasp, he led her back to the car. When she was seated he swung around to face her. “Now where? What would you like to do now? Just say the word! How about a look around the town? No? I got the idea that all girls liked to prowl around the stores in a strange city.”

  “Not this girl,” she said very low, “not today.”

  “Well then,” he was leaning back studying her face with the intent blue gaze that was so discomforting. “For someone fresh out from England there’s quite a choice. We could have a look around the place, see the boat harbour. Or I could take you for a spin up old Parahaki—” He gestured towards the mountain clad in heavy native bush rising nearby. “Or how about a run out to the ocean beach out at the heads? It’s wild and rugged and remote and well worth seeing!”

  He was treating her as a visitor to the country, playing the part of a host duty bound to show the English girl the attractions of his own land. All at once it was more than she could bear. She raised her heavy glance. “Let’s go home.” and saw the relief in his eyes. She had been right, then, he had been merely being polite, pretending. All he really wanted was to get back to his farming duties as quickly as he could.

  He swung the car out of the parking lot and soon they were heading out of town, passing through the outlying districts and taking the winding road up the mountain. When they reached the summit with its notice “Pilbrow’s Hill”, she realised that Mark was guiding the car up a sheer slope towards tea-rooms perched on a crag high above. He tossed her a grin. “May as well stop for something to eat before we take off for home! Especially as I’ve got the housekeeper with me.”

  They swept up on to the concrete strip surrounding the hilltop restaurant. As she stepped out of the car Mark was waiting for her. High winds of the mountain-top flung her hair in a veil over her eyes and tossed her into his arms. It was like being on top of the world. Then he caught her hand in his and they hurried up the steps and into a room where a wall of windows brought into view a panorama of bush-clad hills. Beyond were the dark blue shapes of mountains sloping down to the sea.

  Presently a waitress brought a tray and Angela nibbled a sandwich and sipped the hot coffee. All the time she was aware of Mark. She could feel his gaze on her face when she wasn’t looking, and divined that for some reason she couldn’t fathom he appeared to be solicitous about her. She couldn’t understand it. A little later, however, moving towards the door, she caught sight of her reflection in a mirror and realised the reason for his expression of concern. Could that really be herself, that ashen-faced girl staring back at her?

  Mark opened the door and the force of the gale tore at them. As they went down the steps he threw his arm around her waist, drawing close as they struggled against the high wind. But she knew the gesture didn’t mean a thing to him. It was just part of the “be kind-to-Twenty-she’s-leaving-soon” kind of day.

  The miles fell away and the silence that had fallen between them lasted almost all the way back to the homestead. As they turned in at the main gates and rattled over the cattle-stop, however, Mark veered off into a grassy paddock. To her surprise the car was lurching and bumping in the direction of a tree-shaded stream. She roused herself to ask, “Where are we going?”

  “Tell you in a minute!” He was drawing to a stop in a shady spot beneath a towering puriri tree.

  She tried to infuse a note of interest in her voice. “Is it something to do with your shopping in Whangarei?”

  “How did you guess?” His face was all at once alive with excitement and something else she didn’t dare dwell on in case she were mistaken. The boss looking at her like that! He wasn’t acting at all in character today. What could be the matter with him? For something to say she asked, “Was it something important?” and had her first inkling of the truth.

  “Was it?” He swung around to face her. “Like telling you how much I love you, want you!” His tone deepened with emotion and his arms drew her close. A bronzed finger tilted upwards her small rounded chin. “Twenty!” His lips were seeking hers and she was safe in the circle of his arms. All at once the sunshine outside was dazzling. Or was it the look in his eyes, the loving, wanting look that made the whole world a-shimmer?

  His hands caressed her bright hair and she caught the low murmur of his voice. “You must have guessed how I felt about you? That I’d never let you go!” Once again she felt the urgent pressure of his lips. “Say you love me,” he whispered against her mouth, “say it!”

  “I love you,” she told him, “so much!” And when she could speak once again, “You’ve no idea how much I was dreading having to leave you. I kept making excuses to myself, putting off the date of going away, hoping for a miracle. And all time...” Her voice died away. The wonder of what was happening at this moment was still a little too much to take in.

  “If I hadn’t got the idea that you were involved with old John,” he told her tenderly, “I’d have told you how I felt about you weeks ago. It wasn’t till yesterday I knew I had a chance.”

  “John?” With tousled hair and flushed cheeks she pulled herself a little away from him. “But he was nothing to me—at least,” a little guiltily she recalled the occasions when she had deliberately fostered that misconception especially for Mark’s benefit.

  “I know that, now. I had to work fast, Twenty, if I wanted to keep you with me, so I took a chance, went to Whangarei and got you—this.” Fishing in his pocket, he drew out a small jeweller’s box and the next minute was slipping on her tanned finger a slender gold ring set with a single diamond.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, surprised and delighted and elated all at once. A wonderful ring, although she knew she would have treasured any ring, no matter how insignificant, because he had given it to her as a symbol of their love.

  His deep intent gaze was on her tremulous face. “Mrs. Mark Hillyer, how does it sound to you?”

  “Just exactly right,” she whispered.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” He sealed the words with a kiss. Oh, it was heaven to be in his arms, close, close to the whipcord strength of this man she loved.

  “And I thought,” s
he murmured wonderingly, “that you and Susan—”

  He put a hand on either side of her face, looking into her eyes. “Never in a thousand years, Twenty. Sue and I have known each other all our lives, we’ve got a heck of a lot in common when it comes to property, horse-riding, all that, but that’s all. Thinking of me in a romantic way would be the last thing on Susan’s mind. Can you imagine it?”

  Yet for all his sureness of tone Angela could imagine it very well, but, wise for once, she kept her thoughts to herself. A fleeting pity for the other girl crossed her mind, but the next minute she reminded herself that Susan’s supreme confidence in her own powers of attraction would not for long allow her to feel defeated. She would meet someone else.

  His exultant tones broke into her musing. “Twenty, we’re going to be the happiest couple in the country!”

  She twinkled up at him. “Even though I made such a mess of things with Brian and Martha?” For a second her radiant face sobered. “It was true what I told you that first day. If I could have found Martha in Whangarei she would have said the same—”

  “I know all that, my darling—”

  “Tell me,” she raised a hand with its glittering diamond to caress his bronzed cheek, “just when did you change your mind about my part in it all?”

  His lopsided smile was tender. “If you could have seen yourself coming along that street in Whangarei today. Your face, Twenty! Your sad funny little face. You looked for all the world as though you’d got to the end of the road, played your last card and lost!”

  “That’s just about how I was feeling. But you still haven’t told me when,” she persisted.

  “That’s easy—just as soon as I got to know you a bit better—”

  “I’d have told you everything at the beginning, but you wouldn’t let me.”

  His lips brushed her soft cheek. “Tell me now.”

  It all came out in a rush of words. The friendship with Martha that had been no friendship at all, the other girl’s self-centred plans that were to bring such humiliation and misery to Brian. Her own unexpected meeting with Martha at the rodeo. “And that’s all I know,” she finished. “I’ve no idea what she and Brian arranged between them that day, if they did arrange anything.”