Bewildered Haven

by Helen Bianchin

  The waiter appeared at that precise moment bearing two mouth-watering platters of chicken fricassee, and Zachary met her glance unwaveringly.,

  'I promise not to utter another word until we've both eaten,' he said with apparent seriousness.

  Jenny eyed him warily, then capitulated silently, turning her attention to the food steaming aromatically on her plate. Strangely, their mutual silence for the remainder of the meal wasn't an uncomfortable one, and once or twice Jenny spared him a surreptitious glance from beneath her long-fringed lashes to find, disconcertingly, that he was regarding her enigmatically.

  'Will you dance with me, Jenny?' Zachary's voice drawled from across the table as Jenny sipped wine from her glass moments after the attentive waiter had removed her empty dessert plate.

  Jenny viewed him a trifle cautiously over the rim of her wine-glass, then inclined her head in acquiescence.

  It would be just her luck for the music to change to a lilting dreamily soft melody that brought the hitherto swaying couples close together to drift slowly about the floor. She wanted to draw back, to deny any close contact with him, but it was too late and his arms drew her effortlessly close in against him. She told herself severely that she should be hating every moment of this—the almost sensually slow movement as they drifted amongst the crowded couples. But contrarily she felt oddly at peace with herself, and with Zachary Benedict. There was a lightness to being held in his arms like this— almost as if they had known each other in another world and their mutual souls were forcing recognition. The unreality of it was so real that when a careless jolt suddenly thrust her hard against him she didn't struggle as his arms moved to alter their hold to keep her firmly there, and timeless seconds later her arms moved almost of their own volition to clasp themselves about the back of his waist It seemed an age before the music changed to a definite up-beat and they moved apart to wander back to their table.

  'Will you have dinner with me tomorrow evening?'

  Jenny looked across the table as Zachary voiced the question, and she replaced her glass carefully before meeting his gaze.

  'I'm sorry, but I can't,' she said slowly. 'I'm going home for the weekend straight after work tomorrow afternoon. Thank you,', she added quietly seconds later. The wine and the dimly lit atmosphere of the restaurant must be affecting her brain, she concluded musingly, for she felt strangely regretful that circumstances prevented her from accepting Zachary Benedict's invitation,,

  'Then of necessity it must wait until next week.'

  'Perhaps,' Jenny murmured, not at all sure it would be wise to see him again. Already she was feeling bemused, and there was a certain danger to fostering any emotion between them—of that she was positive.

  As the Mercedes-Benz turned into the driveway and crunched to a halt outside her flat there was an oddly tense air within the car, and Jenny found herself sitting stiffly upright with not one coherent thought capable of coining to mind. She watched in mesmerised fascination as Zachary switched off the engine and slid out from the car to move around and open the door beside her. Without a word she slipped out and stood on the pavement, clutching her evening bag as if it alone could provide a lifeline to returning sanity.

  'Au revoir, Jenny Meredith,' Zachary said softly, and bent his head to touch his lips fleetingly at her temple.

  'Goodnight,' Jenny blurted tremulously, then turned and ran up the path to the front door, inserted her key into the lock and quickly closed the door behind her. Only when she heard the car reverse down the drive way did her breathing begin to return to normal, and sleep was an elusive captive until the early dawn hours.

  CHAPTER 3

  Immediately after work Jenny drove south from the city en route to Tauranga, and she felt relaxed and relatively carefree as she left the end of the southern motorway. Open country—how peaceful and tranquil it appeared after the rush and bustle of the pity. The paddocks were lush green pasture covering the gently undulating land, and Jenny cast an affectionate gaze at the slumberous cattle moving lethargically closer to the homesteads. The clean fresh air smelt good and she breathed in deeply to fill her lungs with it. All being well she would have only little more than half an hour in which to drive while it was dark. Daylight-saving time was still weeks away and it was seldom light much after seven-thirty in the evenings. Jenny hated to admit it, but driving at night through open country scared her silly. Dark looming shapes seemed to leap out and almost engulf the car, and she had an inordinate fear that some mechanical fault might bring the car to a standstill and thus leave her vulnerable.

  The Hauraki Plains stretched out before her—acre upon acre of flat pasture with areas of swamp, where deep ditches ran alongside the road to drain the excess water from the surrounding land, and the tall white-plumed toi-toi grass grew in clumped profusion. The dark hills beyond Paeroa grew closer and it was almost seven o'clock when Jenny eased the car round the numerous winding bends of the Karangahake Gorges—high dark mountains on either side of the gently running river with the old rusted corrugated iron edifice at its edge to remind all who passed by of the gold rush days of long ago. It seemed eerie in the softly fading light, and Jenny could almost sense the bygone activity of the eager men panning for the precious metal—the exultant cries, the boisterous raillery in the local hotel after dark. Many a fortune had been made—and lost, in these parts.

  Dusk was rapidly encroaching as Jenny passed through the farming township of Katikati, and she unconsciously increased her speed. As the lights of Tauranga and Mount Maunganui flickered in the distance she breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief. It wouldn't be too long before she was safely home.

  Home had a welcoming ring to it, and somehow a town where one had spent childhood years was always fondly remembered as home no matter where one travelled, Jenny reflected affectionately. Those carefree days when all that seemed important were what games to play, and with whom. Learning was associated with school, and although it was regarded as a necessary labour one shook off the shackles quickly enough come the close of a school day. She had had a particularly gentle upbringing—nothing untoward had occurred during her young life to sow the seeds of antagonism. Life's changing patterns she had welcomed with enthusiasm and a sweet openly friendly smile. Tennis, basketball, squash had figured largely in her spare time, and she had been a popular inclusion on various club trips.

  Thinking back, Jenny wondered if her father's sudden death had had something to do with her need to cling to Max Enfield—a nice young man who up until then had been just a boy among boys in the crowd she mixed with. Their discovery of a mutual need for each other's company hadn't come swiftly—it had grown slowly out of habit, like always meeting after work on Tuesdays for coffee in a downstairs coffee-bar, going to the cinema each Saturday evening or attending a dance, and wandering around the shops on a Friday evening, late shopping night. Soon Max was regularly invited for dinner on Sundays, and before long it was assumed by all that Jenny and Max would become engaged. Jenny thought ruefully that their engagement had been arrived at by contrived auto-suggestion! The things we do that are motivated by a wish to please relatives and friends, she sighed aloud. Perhaps one needed to make a mistake in life to be awakened to the harshness of reality—to achieve the essential will to be one's own master or mistress, she concluded wryly. If she was wholly honest, she had to admit her pride was hurt that Max hadn't had the courage to tell her to her face that he felt their approaching marriage was a mistake. She felt surprisingly heart-whole—not heartbroken at all.

  The porch light shone out over the front lawn in welcome as Jenny turned her car into the driveway, and she thankfully switched off the engine and touched the horn twice. Almost at once the door opened and a short plump middle-aged matron flew down the steps and clasped Jenny against her amply proportioned bosom with an enthusiasm that almost knocked her off her feet.

  'Jenny, my dear,' Mrs. Meredith breathed affectionately. 'How wonderful to see you.' She leant forward and kissed her daughter re
soundingly on the cheek, and then stood back as Jenny removed her suitcase and a few packages from the back seat of the car.

  'Oh, Mother—really!' Jenny remonstrated amiably. 'It's only been four weeks since I left. Here, take this, there's a pet—it's for you, and no peeking until we're inside!'

  She put an arm round her mother's shoulders as they walked up the steps together, and once inside the kitchen breathed a gratifying sigh at the aroma of steak and kidney stew.

  'There's some lemon meringue pie to follow, with whipped cream, and I've some of those nice cheese biscuits. Now, eat up well, dear, for I'm sure you don't eat enough nourishing food flatting on your own.'

  Jenny laughed—a soft contented chuckle which lightened her face into something quite beautiful.

  'I'm sure you intend to send me back to Auckland at least four pounds heavier,' she smiled fondly across the table at her mother.

  'You could well do with it, my dear,' Mrs. Meredith replied with a gentle shake of her head.

  'Is Jane due home soon?' Jenny queried casually as she tucked in with relish to the generous helping of lemon meringue pie.

  'Yes—at least, I think so,' her mother answered cautiously. 'Bob Sanderson called for her about seven, but they said they'd be back in time to watch the film on television.' Her face puckered a little as she leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. 'Oh, Jenny, she's too young to go to Australia. She's so determined, and nothing I say makes any difference. Who knows what will happen to her so far from Home ? In the cities— all those Greeks and Italians. So many different nationalities, and I've heard it's quite dangerous to walk about at night.'

  Jenny smiled slightly. 'Mother, you're thinking of Sydney, and in particular King's Gross. In any case, I'm sure a lot of the immigrants are very nice people.'

  Mrs. Meredith shook her head despairingly. 'All those snakes—some deadly poisonous, and crocodiles in the far north. And what about the aborigines? In the Outback they're still very primitive, I believe.'

  Jenny slid aside her empty plate and placed a hand appealingly over her mother's. 'Jane has more than her share of common sense. She's mature and realistic, and knows what she wants from life. You can't blame her for that, or stop her from going to Australia if she's made up her mind that's what she wants to do. She's not flighty or promiscuous, and one day she'll make some man a grand wife.' She smiled gently into her mother's worried face. 'If she were a man, she'd be patted on the back and sent off in grand style to see the wonders of the world—but it's just as acceptable nowadays for girls to work their way around other countries. I'm not taking sides, with you or with Jane, but she's almost twenty years of age, and has been working for four years.'

  Mrs. Meredith's bottom lip trembled, and she hastily searched for a handkerchief in the depths of her apron pocket. 'I suppose you think I'm being selfish in trying to keep her here for another year?' she queried tearfully.

  Jenny patted her hand and touched the soft cheek fondly. 'No. The very last thing in this world you could ever be is selfish. I think it's just a bit difficult to bring yourself to admit that Jane is a young woman who's old enough to begin her life away from home. All chicks have to leave the nest some time,' she finished gently.

  Mrs. Meredith nodded, then blew her nose loudly and rose to her feet, briskly declaring a need for some nice hot coffee.

  The sound of a car pulling into the drive and the slamming of doors heralded the arrival of Jane and her on-again, off-again boy friend, Bob. Jane had confided several months previously that Bob wanted to date steadily, but that she preferred a more platonic relationship.

  'Jenny, you're looking terrific L' Jane hugged her ecstatically, her eyes dancing merrily. 'Has some crazily astute man discovered your hidden virtues and swept you off your feet?'

  'Not likely,' Jenny replied with a grin, raising a hand in greeting to Bob in the background. 'I have no desire to be swept off my feet by any man, astute or otherwise, thank you very much!'

  'Ahah,' Jane declared cheekily. 'If I didn't know you better, I'd be almost convinced you mean that What do you think, Bob?'

  Bob grinned sheepishly and responded charmingly. 'If I were five or six years older, I'd sweep her off her feet myself,'

  Jenny laughed out loud as Jane and her mother chuckled spontaneously.

  'Such gallantry will get you a cup of coffee and at least two slices of Mother's chocolate cake,' Jenny twinkled kindly at him. 'Sit down, all of you. I'll make the supper,' she declared happily, and moved into the kitchen to heat the kettle without further ado.

  When she returned to the lounge with the loaded tea-wagon the film was just beginning, and she silently handed them each a cup of steaming coffee and motioned they should help themselves to the chocolate cake.

  Bob stood to his feet shortly after the film finished, declaring he must be on his way as he and Jane planned a day at the racecourse the following day.

  'Jenny, you'll come too, won't you?' Jane asked, her face alight with pleasure.

  Jenny paused for a brief second, then shook her head slowly. 'No, thanks all the same. I probably won't be down again for several weeks, and in any case I've never been very interested in following race meetings.'

  Jane pursed her lips and glanced imperatively across to Bob. 'We're not going to allow you to sit at home the entire weekend, are we, Bob ? You must come out with us tomorrow evening, in that case. Bob's brother Ken and his fiancée are joining us, and Eloise and Jeremy are coming as well. Bob said earlier this evening that his father is expecting a guest down from Auckland for the weekend who's supposedly a swinging bachelor, It shouldn't be too difficult for Bob to persuade him to partner you. We're booked in for dinner at the Mount and then we're going on to a super beach-house party at Omanu,' she finished contentedly, her sparkling brown eyes almost daring Jenny not to fall in with her arrangements.

  'Hey, steady on!' Jenny waved a hand in the air in admonition. 'I can't butt in on your plans,-and .in any case I don't exactly fancy another blind date.'

  Jane took up the challenge with a gay laugh. 'Oh, Jenny, not Dianne and George again ?'

  Jenny wrinkled her nose expressively and owned that their mutual cousin and her husband had been up to their matchmaking tricks again for the third time in three weeks.

  Bob eyed the two sisters with affection. 'If you don't come, Jenny, your sweet sister will never let me hear the end of it!'

  Mrs. Meredith gave a satisfied sigh, replacing the slightly anxious frown with a relaxed smile. 'I'm so glad you'll go, Jenny dear,' she said with relief. 'Elvira Hamilton has reserved our usual tickets for the cinema tomorrow evening—Jane was so .emphatic you would be going with them.'

  Jenny cast Jane a dark look which was reciprocated by a brilliantly determined smile.

  'That's all settled, then,' Jane declared happily, taking Bob's arm and leading him towards the hallway.

  As they left the room Jenny grimaced wryly, mentally viewing the following evening with mixed feelings. It would be the first occasion she was to mix socially in Tauranga without Max, and there were bound to be a few people at the party who knew of her recently broken engagement. In any case, there was a chance Bob's father's swinging bachelor guest might have other plans and decline to be included—or she could sunbathe on the beach all day and legitimately bow out owing to an overdose of the sun. It was rather a painful way to elude a party, but distinctly feasible!

  When Jane returned to the kitchen a short while later Jenny was drying the last of the supper dishes.

  'Mother already in bed?' Jane queried as she locked the door behind her.

  'Yes,' Jenny answered as she hung the tea-towel to air over the dishrack and then turned to her sister and questioned curiously. 'Who is this man staying with Bob's parents?'

  Jane shrugged complacently. 'I haven't a clue as to his name. I believe he's a distant relative of Bob's mother—a second cousin, or something like that, Bob will ask him first thing in the morning and then let me know when he calls for
me.' She cast Jenny a speculative look as she leaned forward to examine the ring on Jenny's left hand. 'That's pretty—but why? A few hours in the sun will soon banish the paler skin beneath the ring. Quite frankly, I'm amazed you haven't tried to do so already.'

  Jenny pulled her hand away angrily. 'Mum will be playing bowls tomorrow unless I'm much mistaken, and you'll be away all day. I had planned on going to the beach.'

  Jane looked contrite as she squeezed Jenny's hand affectionately. 'Don't be so prickly, Jenny-wren. I for one think you've had a lucky escape. Max wasn't the right man for you.' She stifled a yawn, then stretched her arms high in the air. 'Ho-hum, I'm for bed. Coming?'

  Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, the sun's rays fingering the earth with its warmth, and the house became alive with the muted sounds of a transistor radio intermingled with the happy chatter of voices and the chinking of crockery. By the time Bob arrived to collect Jane, Mrs. Meredith had already departed for the bowling green and Jenny was filling a Thermos with coffee to take to the beach along with some sandwiches. On learning Bob had persuaded the family's guest to accompany Jenny that evening Jane threw her arms around his neck ecstatically.

  'Lovely, lovely man!' she grinned, unabashed by his embarrassment that Jenny was standing close by.

  Loath to drive too far, Jenny settled for the stretch of sand near the Sixth Avenue camping grounds, and found a comparatively quiet secluded area in which to sunbathe. It was a lovely day, the sun warm on her exposed limbs, and a slight breeze ruffled the leaves of the large spreading pohutakawa tree. The distant cries of children at play drifted towards her, to be joined by the muted tones of a nearby transistor radio. She closed her eyes and pursued the absorbing thought of what she would wear that evening. There was that rather daring gold silk-knit jersey dress still hanging in her wardrobe. Bare-backed, with a halter-neck that gave the illusion of revealing more than it concealed, it had definitely been one of her 'mad' purchases. Max had never seen it, but if he had he would probably have refused to let her wear it. Perfectly all right on another girl, but not 'his' girl. Well, she was no longer 'his' girl, and she would wear what she darned well pleased! The gold silk-knit jersey dress it would be!