"Hang on. I'll check with old Sobersides to see whether It's O.K. for you to go through." He returned in a few minutes.
"It's all fixed. Keep to the road. Habib mentioned it turns off into a track about three miles from the farm, but it's clearly marked. You should have no trouble.''
Janet and Mark had decided they wanted to sit at the front and as Julie slid into the driving seat Clay fastened the door. His face was taut.
"Take care Julie. And don't waste any time, get straight to Bongola, you understand."
"We're practically there!" With a reassuring smile and a wave of her hand she steered the car through the barriers and along the road.
It grew dark suddenly and quite without warning and it was impossible to see anything beyond the ribbon of the road, but Julie was unperturbed. They must have covered five or six miles already and should soon be coming to the track. She recognised this by the sudden lurching and bumping of the car, and as there was a serious risk of damaging the underbody she deemed it wiser to do no more than five miles an hour. After what seemed an eternity of tossing and bouncing she saw a light in the distance. The headlights picked out a sign at the side of the track: BONGOLA. The letters were so faded they almost emerged into the greyness of the board. In fact if Julie hadn't known what she was looking for, she doubted whether she would have been able to read the sign.
Further along leaning gates opened on to a drive that looked reminiscent of an autumn setting in England. Leaves and twigs swirled around in the gathering wind, and an occasional cocoon of grass or moss rolled into the glare of the headlights. The tall black trees shuddered painfully at the brunt of .the wind.
With a cheerfulness she was far from feeling Julie put on the brakes and helped the children out, "Here we are, kittens, home at last!" The house sprawled away into the darkness, a dim grey collection of pillars and windows. Wooden steps led up to a high veranda, and along this shutters swung to and fro fitfully.
It would be all right once they were inside, Julie told herself firmly. Night was never a good time to sample new surroundings. With the light of day things could look so very different.
The light she had seen came from the side of the house. Funny no one had come out to meet them! Surely they must have heard the sound of the car? She smiled down encouragingly.
"Let's go in and find Aunt Stephenie ... it looks as though we're going to surprise her!"
Mark clutched her hand so tight she could have winced with pain. Janet stared rigidly ahead. Looking at them now, their eyes wide and apprehensive, Julie would have given anything to spare them this. It couldn't have been a more disastrous introduction to their new home.
They climbed the steps to a door that swung easily inwards. In the dull glow of the light from the other room she saw a polished wood floor strewn with rugs, and dulled by a surface of dust. The dark shapes in the room suggested some kind of lounge.
"Hello!" she called. "Anyone home?" She walked resolutely towards the lighted room.
"Is there any ..." Her voice trailed off in dejection at the sight before her.
The room resembling a kitchen held a large wooden table. This was completely covered with opened cans and stale food. There was a sink in one corner, tapless and made of coarse stone, and opposite a rough enamel container that could have been a fridge. On the wall an open cupboard displayed a jumble of expensive-looking crockery, and cooking utensils, and opposite was an iron stove, rusted, cold and utterly cheerless.
It was a sight that brought the tears pricking to Julie's eyes. Perhaps she was just tired. It had been a long journey ... hundreds of miles ... to this! Try as she might she couldn't suppress the black disappointment at what she saw.
And where was everybody? Where was Auntie Stephanie? Didn't she know her nephew and niece were arriving tonight ?
There was a movement from behind her, and not knowing why, Julie tensed. The children instinctively clung to her skirt, and under this encumbrance she turned with difficulty.
The figure was draped around the opening of the door, clinging to anything that would offer support to the sagging limbs. The eyes were bleary and bloodshot, and the dark hair hung forward, unruly and uncombed. Even so the beauty shone through. Here were the neat good looks of Lynn and something more ... a whole lot more, Julie thought, noticing the perfect figure in the wispy blue housecoat.
At that moment the head was tossed back and slurred words were pushed from curling lips,
"We ... ell, hello!" Hurriedly seeking the support of the wall again, she managed to add, "Wel ... come ... welcome ... to Bongola."
CHAPTER IX
"HELLO! YOU must be Mrs. Mayhew." Julie tried to speak normally, though the shock of seeing the children's aunt and guardian in such a state had almost taken her voice. "My name is Julie Lambert, and this is your nephew Mark ... and Janet, your niece. I'm sorry if we seem to have barged in, but we thought you were ... expecting us."
"I was . . .1 am." Stephanie opened her arms expansively and showed a brilliant smile, then she suddenly spiralled down and swept the children into her arms. "My babies!" she crooned over them; the smile was now conspiratorial. "If you don't bring John to his senses, nothing else will!"
Being very small, Janet and Mark made no effort to hide their dislike at being held so suffocatingly close. They wriggled furiously, and to tide them over a difficult moment Julie asked politely,
"John ... that's your husband, isn't it? Is he here?"
"He's in the village ... he's always in the village, looking for someone to get this damned place hoisted on to its feet." Stephanie rose and swayed. "He can't do it on his own ... but of course I knew he couldn't. Still, he had to drag me along ... he was determined to do that!"
Julie tried to bed down her embarrassment with the suggestion that perhaps Mrs. Mayhew ought to sit down. Taking the vpeight of the slack body, she ied her to a chair in the lounge, hoping there would be no more personal grievances aired. Stephanie was bound to regret them once she was sobered up. But she wasn't finished yet.
Once in the chair where a small table lamp cast a pool of light Stephanie hiccupped and laughed hoarsely.
"Isn't life funny? Don't you think life is funny? Johnny always wanted children, and I didn't... I sometimes think bringing me here had something to do with punishment. I should have been like Lynn ... poor Lynn!" the green eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Poor Lynn with two babies. Why couldn't it have been me with nobody ... and stuck in this stinking ..."
"Mrs. Mayhew, would you like me to make you some coffee?"
Tears trickled slowly down alabaster cheeks. The thick lashes drooped.
"Mrs. Mayhew!"
Without warning an arm was swung wide. She laughed throatily.
"Now look at me ... what do you say now, John? I've got a family, ready made, and now we can all go home, and ..." The rest was lost in unintelligible mumbling but she rallied at the end to chuckle. "If there's anything Johnny can't resist it's ... kids."
"Mrs. Mayhew!" Julie shook the shoulder vigorously, but Stephanie Mayhew was quite unconscious.
Now what were they going to do?
Brushing her eyes wearily, Julie supposed she had better see what she could sort out for herself. The children needed a bath, a meal, and a warm bed. The air was decidedly chilly. She looked around in sudden panic. Where were they—Janet and Mark? Her heart constricted at the sight of them. Two small figures nestled close together in the corner of a huge sofa. They were fast asleep.
Well, it looked as if the first job would be to get some kind of heat going under that formidable-looking stove. It wasn't going to be easy. The wood was damp, which was bad enough, but apart from this, the small hatch that should slot open to take fuel refused to budge. She tried forcing it with a wedge of wood. But no. Nor would it yield to the heel of her shoe.
"Confound the stupid, idiotic, maddening ... !" She kicked it forcefully and collapsed in a heap of tears and frustration. She really couldn't stand any more. On t
op of everything else they weren't to be allowed the comforts of a warm drink. And it didn't look as if there was anywhere to sleep....
There was the sound of a firm footstep outside. The steps quickened across the lounge.
"Oh, Clay!" Julie looked up at him with brimming eyes. "Everything's awful... just awful!"
"What in heaven's name ..." He drew her to her feet, looking around him at the chaos.
"We shouldn't have come here," Julie sniffed. "Stephanie doesn't love the children ... she only wants to use them to get her husband away from here. He wanted a family and she didn't, so he brought her out here to get his own back, but now Janet and Mark are here they ..."
"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Clay gripped her patiently. "Let's start at the beginning. Where are the May- hews?"
"Stephanie is in the lounge, out to the world, and her husband is in the village, wherever that might be."
Disbelieving, Clay strode into the lounge and stared down at the prostrate figure. He turned to another door.
'You wait here. I'll see if there's a bed she can go into." Within seconds he had returned. "First door on the left You'll see the light. Straighten up the bed and I'll bring her through."
She watched as Clay scooped Stephanie up into his arms, and then she hurried along the corridor. The bedroom was well furnished but very untidy. She smoothed out the sheets as Clay lowered Stephanie. He stood gazing down at her.
"She looks young to be alone out here."
"Five years younger than Lynn," Julie replied a trifle stiffly.
"Have you spoken to her?"
"She welcomed us to Bongola before she passed out."
Noticing the dry tones, Clay shot her a half smile,
"I wouldn't take anything she said too seriously. It was probably the drink talking, and drink can say funny things."
"Maybe."
As they walked back to the lounge Clay looked at the sleeping children.
"I'll take a look around and see what other rooms there are. In .the meantime you might like to go out to the car. I think you'll find the second flask is full of coffee and there should be some of Habib's sandwiches left."
"We're not going to stay here, are we?" Julie's eyes sprang wide in hurt surprise. "Why, I just couldn't! And there's the children ... I mean they ... Well, you've only got to look at the place! It's ..."
"Julie." Clay took hold of her sternly. He put a hand under her chin. "When I first saw you on the terrace of the Hotel Gerard I thought you were just a girl out for a good time with as little work attached as possible. After that gruelling ride through the desert and your first week at Guchani I knew you to be of infinitely better quality ... just as I know now you wouldn't turn your back on these people. They need help." His fingers slid to brush her throat. "Now cut along and get that coffee. We'll both feel better when we've had a cup."
There turned out to be two more bedrooms. One was empty apart from two iron bedsteads. The other had oddments of children's furniture, and bunks for sleeping in. Obviously Janet and Mark's room, but the bedding was hopelessly damp. Julie deemed it wiser to leave the children where they were. When she returned to the kitchen the stove was crackling, and it was possible to air one cover each to roll up in for the night.
After tacking the children up, Julie chose the end of the sofa, taking care not to disturb them. Clay stretched in an armchair across the room and snicked off the light.
"Goodnight, Julie."
"Clay," she asked sleepily, "what happened at the customs house?"
"Fortunately for me the other chap spoke my kind of English. I had to sign a couple of forms and swear that everything I had said previously was true."
"How crazy can they get?"
"I got a lift as far as the track and walked the rest of the way."
"I wish I'd waited with you ..." Julie drowsed.
"It's going to be all right Goodnight, Julie."
"Goodnight, Clay."
The sun shone warm on Julie's arm, but that wasn't what woke her. It was the gentle touch of fingers.
"You like bleakfast now, ladee?"
She sat bolt upright to see a square brown face with & flat nose. The mouth was split into a dazzling smile.
"Wh ... who are you?"
"I Temkin. I cook ... cook now for ladee?"
"But there was no one here when we came last night."
The young boy shrugged his shoulders and rolled the brown eyes. "When Missus get fire bottle, we go, stay in village, wait for supplies."
"You mean Mr. May hew and you?"
He nodded. "Bwana and me, we always go, stay in village."
"How long have you been away this time?"
"Three ... four days maybe. Cook breakfast now, ladee?" It looked as if Temkin wasn't going to rest until he had demonstrated for her benefit his culinary skill.
"Very well, Temkin," Julie smiled, "I'll have breakfast."
He trotted away happily, the white tunic flapping at his knees, and Julie went in search of the bathroom. By the time she had freshened up, the lounge table was decked out in a white cloth, with various dishes and condiments surrounding a vase of freshly picked flowers.
The cook stood proudly by awaiting her approval.
"That looks wonderful, Temkin." Julie smiled her appreciation, and as there was still no sign of Clay or the children, she asked,
"Mr. Whitman and the children ... have you seen them?" Temkin looked blank. It would appear his English was at its best when confined to local domesticities. Julie tried again,
"The big man ..." and lowering her hand to the floor, "the small ones ... are they here?" She pointed several times to the floor. At last Temkin's face lit up.
"No, no, not here. Go early, fetch Bwana."
Julie^decided to leave it at that. It seemed that Clay and the children had gone off quietly before she awoke. Well, she sighed not unhappily, there was nothing else for it but to sample Temkin's cooking, which looked quite delicious.
Some time later she heard the sound of a car and hurried to the door. She was in time to see Janet and Mark tumbling from the back seat looking unkempt but happy.
From the other door of Clay's car a feminine figure emerged. Well, well, Julie murmured under her breath. This couldn't be the Stephanie she had seen last night, could it? The hair was brushed and shining now, and the face beautifully made up. She looked long and lithe in tailored slacks and expensive blouse, and strangely out of place in the broken-down surroundings of Bongola.
"Good morning." As Clay helped her out she ran up the steps smiling. "You were sleeping like a baby earlier, so we left you in peace. I've been showing Clay around the place ..." So it was Clay already, was it? "... and then we went into the village, but John's got to wait for supplies, so he'll be up later."
Of course Julie hadn't thought to ask Temkin the whereabouts of his mistress, so why should he mention that she had gone off with Clay?
She took Julie's arm chummily and walked into the house, saying, "Sorry I passed out on you last night. Clay's been telling me how he put me to bedl" She laughed, showing perfect teeth.
Julie forced a tight smile, feeling distinctly flat. Looking at Stephanie now and around the room it was difficult to realise that last night had really happened. The rooms were neat and tidy, which must mean that Temkin was also a good houseboy, and his mistress, instead of being bedraggled and soaked in drink, sat opposite her, cool, composed, and sleek as a racehorse. Perhaps she had dreamed it all.
John Mayhew arrived just before lunch He gripped Julie's hand apologetically.
"Hell, I'm sorry about last night. I had no idea you were due to arrive."
About his wife's height, he was thin with slightly receding hair, and possessed what Julie thought a rather wonderful smile. It started at the cleft in his chin and spread over his teak-coloured face, like sunlight suddenly rushing along a valley. The first time she saw it was when Janet and Mark entered the room, but after that it was little in evidence. He seemed a man
much preoccupied with his own thoughts.
Lunch progressed with hardly a word between the May- hews, and Julie was too fully occupied with the children's likes and dislikes to offer any herself. Soon afterwards the two men went off together and Julie decided to see about sleeping accommodation for that evening. She was just pushing the bunks into a sunnier position in the children's room when Stephanie popped her head round the door.
"Don't trouble yourself with that, Temkin will see to it."
Julie looked surprised, but she turned from the room.
"I suppose I could go and see about sleeping quarters for Clay ..."
"It's all arranged. You're to sleep in here with the children. Clay can have the spare room. It will all be fixed for tonight Temkin will see to it."
Poor Temkin! It looked as if he had to run the house himself. Cooking cleaning, bedrooms, the lot ... no wonder he took advantage of his mistress's occasional indisposition to rest up in the village.
"Clay wants me to show you the farm," Stephanie was saying. "Do you ride?"
"Enough to get by. What about the children?"
"Oh, they can potter in the garden till we get back."
"I'll go with you, when I've seen they're all right"
Stephanie didn't comment, but Julie didn't miss the raised eyebrow. The garden was a long overgrown lawn, its far end hanging clear over the valley. Along one side an effort had been made to start a flower plot, and dahlias, nasturtiums, and zinnias showed bravely.
Stephanie said with a slight sneer,
"As you can see, my husband has planted his own little England. It's supposed to be some kind of recompense for what we left behind."
Julie didn't reply. It seemed an unkind comment to make on a person's obviously well-meant labours.
Janet and Mark looked hot and grubby, but as they were entirely engrossed in some game of their own invention, Julie decided to leave them undisturbed. Dolls and toy animals were laid neatly side by side across the lawn, and it looked as if the game would go on for ages.
Later she rode down a rough track with Stephanie. Green tufted hills rose up behind a house that looked shabby but solid from the outside. Below stretched a wild-looking valley, and certain sections of it had been laid out in terraced fields, each in various stages of cultivation.
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