Walk in the Shadows

by Jayne Bauling

  He did not reply. Nicola found it uncomfortable. He would always go after Denise, she thought dejectedly, but it wouldn't be because he loved her but because she was his substitute for Vanessa.

  They travelled up a steep, winding mountain road, and Nicola knew that they must be fairly high up already. Angel's Throne was right at the top of this mountain, a big building with several cars parked outside.

  `We won't be staying long,' Barak said abruptly as he manoeuvred the car into a parking space.

  `Barak, for the last time, why have you brought me?' Nicola questioned him desperately.

  `You'll soon see.' He came round the car and opened her door for her, but Nicola didn't move.

  `I don't know ...' her voice trailed off.

  `If you're worried about not being suitably dressed, you can relax,' he assured her impatiently.

  She got out of the car slowly and he slammed the

  door. 'We'll just have coffee or something, have a word with Denise, and then we'll go straight home,' he said as he guided her through the car park.

  They entered a big long room and a courteous Venda waiter, who evidently knew Barak, escorted them to a small table away from the open floor where dancing was going on to the music of a band.

  Nicola looked about her as Barak was ordering coffee. Huge windows ran all the way down both sides of the room and she realised that from such a height the view would be magnificent in daylight. There were people at most of the other tables, some lingering over a late dinner, but most were merely sitting over cups or glasses; probably taking time off from the dance floor, she thought.

  `Over there is what we're looking for.' Barak directed her gaze to the dancers.

  Nicola looked and grew disconcerted. 'Oh ! ' she exclaimed, a hand going to her mouth, although it was what she had half expected to see.

  Denise Graeme and Todd Baxter were in each other's arms, dancing to the slow rhythm produced by the band. Denise had her head on Todd's shoulder and she looked young and healthy and beautiful in a bleached shantung dress which was wholly plain, it’s simple lines showing off her slim figure to perfection, while her tawny hair gleamed under the soft lights.

  `Do you see what they both are?' Barak said as their coffee arrived.

  Nicola poured out for both of them, with some difficulty because her hands were trembling. She glanced surreptitiously at him. His face looked darker than

  ever and there were lines of tension about his mouth as he watched the dancing couple. She saw that every muscle in his face was taut, and his hands were clenched.

  She said, 'Perhaps Denise is just looking for a little gaiety. She's too young to want to be tied down now, but given time ...'

  Her voice trailed off. She knew she was saying what was untrue for the sake of driving that hard cynical look away from his face.

  Barak glanced at her briefly and he was inscrutable again, although his eyes remained dark. 'Whatever makes you think Denise cares about me, Nicola?'

  Nicola gulped and looked away from him. His voice had been totally expressionless.

  Then he said with faint humour, 'You're present at an historic occasion. This is the last time I shall fetch Denise from the places she ends up in when the mood takes her to bolt.'

  In silence he drained his coffee. 'You're shocked. We'll leave as soon as we've had a word with Denise and Baxter. They're going outside now. We'll follow.'

  Nicola nodded silently. She left the coffee unfinished and when Barak had paid they went out after Todd and Denise.

  The hotel garden was criss-crossed by narrow stone paths, concealed by shrubbery and hanging creepers, and it was along one of these that Barak and Nicola followed the other couple, guided by the sound of Denise's inimitable breathless young laughter.

  Then there was silence and, rounding a curve, they

  came upon them, looked in each other's arms, their mouths joined.

  Nicola drew a sharp, shocked breath, causing Denise and Todd to separate hastily. She shouldn't have accompanied Barak, she thought, feeling his hand on her arm. She glanced anxiously at him but, in the light from the lanterns hanging in the trees, she could detect no trace of distress in the dark face.

  `Barak?' Denise was the first to find her voice and she used it in entreaty, putting out an appealing hand and moving away from Todd.

  `Yes, Denise?' Barak's tone was cold.

  `You must understand ...' the girl began falteringly, yet there was something in her tawny eyes that hinted at satisfaction.

  `I understand only too well,' he told her coolly, now releasing Nicola's arm. Even without the physical contact, however, she could still sense the anger that he was containing. 'This is the last time, Denise. It hasn't worked, you know, it's not working, it never will work.'

  A light seemed to die in the girl's eyes. 'You mean ...?'

  `I mean that I know what it's all about, what's been motivating your recent behaviour,' Barak continued quietly, but there was something nevertheless hard in his voice. 'I just thought I'd let you know before you make even more of a fool of yourself—and before you really get into trouble,' he added, his freezing glance flicking over Todd.

  Todd's face was flushed and his manner was truculent as he said, 'Here, you can't talk like that, Sorensen. I don't like your tone at all.'

  Barak's smile was sardonic. 'You'll like it even less if you don't leave Denise—and Nicola—alone in future.'

  `I won't take that from you!' Todd exclaimed belligerently, taking a step forward and then hesitating, perhaps realising the power that was leashed in Barak's lithe physique. He glanced at Nicola with a weak smile. `Are you going to stand for it, Nicola darling? Let him dictate on your affairs as well as Denise's?'

  Nicola moved instinctively closer to Barak, and Denise watched her with hard narrowed eyes.

  `We've heard enough, Baxter,' Barak said quietly, still exercising that iron control. 'God knows, you're entitled to live your life as you please, but even Hilary's patience is wearing a bit thin. That's just a warning.'

  He had turned away, but Todd's voice arrested him. `I haven't finished yet, Sorensen.'

  `But I have,' Barak told him. 'When you start acting your age, perhaps you'll find people prepared to give you a hearing. Until then, however ... I'm taking Denise home, so you might as well get going.'

  Nicola half expected Todd to carry on the argument, but he must have thought better of it, because suddenly he moved away from them, still blustering furiously, `You'll regret this. You've no right to take this attitude and I'll see to it that you're sorry ! '

  Denise Graeme forced a laugh. 'You've made an enemy, Barak.'

  He ignored her. 'Let's go,' he said.

  From the parking ground came the sound of a car engine being revved furiously and the next moment they heard the screech of tyres on gravel as Todd's car travelled wildly away.

  Barak shrugged his shoulders.

  `What are you doing here, Nicola?' Denise asked coldly. 'Barak, we must talk.'

  `Not now, for God's sake,' he said impatiently as they reached the Lancia Stratos. 'Get in, Denise, and don't argue.'

  They made the winding descent in silence, the two girls sharing the passenger seat. Parked outside the Graeme farmhouse, however, Denise made another appeal to Barak, 'Please ... please let's talk.'

  `I'll see you tomorrow—you and your parents,' he added. 'Right now, I've had enough of you. You can go inside and let your parents know you're home. Perhaps you can apologise for unnecessarily causing them distress. Because it was unnecessary, Denise, as you must realise by now.'

  Denise paused outside the car and the look she gave Nicola was icy.

  Nicola stared after her anxiously. 'Will she be all right?' she asked tentatively.

  `Denise will always be all right,' he said.

  They started the drive home in silence. She thought inconsequentially that Vanessa must have been mad to choose Karl instead of him Melanie ought to have been Barak's daughter instead of just his niec
e. After a while she started to weep silently.

  He said at once, 'Stop it, Nicola. It won't help matters if you cry. It's not worth it. Perhaps I was brutal to do things this way, but , I had to make you see what you were ... wasting yourself on. There'll be other better men than Todd. So don't prolong it any further, will you? Let go now, Nicola.'

  He removed his hand from the steering-wheel to touch her wrist briefly. Nicola, trying to stop her tears, didn't reply for the moment. If that was what he thought—that she was crying because of Todd—then she would let that be, because she knew he would hate the thought that her weeping was born of sympathy for him. Barak Sorensen wouldn't want sympathy. Let him think she didn't care about his pain.

  Nicola swallowed and said, 'Stop being so damned kind : you're not the guardian of my happiness.'

  She lied, because he was just that, but the angry tone she had forced herself to employ would serve to return them to their earlier antagonistic footing.

  He was silent until they reached the farmhouse which was in darkness. He switched on one of the wall lamps in the lounge and looked at Nicola in such a way that she became conscious of her appearance and lifted a hand to touch the smooth knot at the nape of her neck.

  `All right now?' he asked, quite gently.

  `Yes,' Nicola said curtly, moving to stand at the door which led to the veranda outside her room.

  He moved nearer to her. 'I'm sorry if you think I was cruel to do it that way,' he said expressionlessly, continuing to look down at her. 'It wasn't to humiliate you.'

  `Oh no,' Nicola taunted, needing to defend because she was still thinking of what he must be suffering and was frightened of revealing compassion. 'You were merely employing the old and honoured practice of being cruel to be kind, I suppose.'

  `Unfortunately yes,' he said. He put his hands to her waist. 'Nicola?'

  His eyes dropped to the gentle curve of her mouth, and she swayed slightly towards him. Her eyelids grew heavy with desire; desire which swept over her in great, weakening waves, and she moved closer to him until her trembling body was pressed against his, her hands going up to grasp his shoulders.

  `Barak ! ' she murmured against his skin in soft entreaty as she felt his hands move from her waist, up over her back.

  She had carried with her the memory of the other time he had kissed her, but she was still unprepared for the assault on her senses as his mouth sought hers this time. Her fingers were entwined in his dark hair as she moved her body against his, transmitting her urgency to him and feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt.

  It seemed a fiery eternity before he lifted his mouth from hers. Through a haze of weakness she heard him groan and mutter something as his trembling fingers removed her necklace and dropped it on to the low table beside them. Then he was loosening her silky hair from its knot, running his fingers through its fine texture, and unbuttoning her blouse.

  `Nicola darling—Nicola!' he said with an intensity which she had never heard from anyone before. His lips against her neck were warm, and she felt herself quivering as his hands caressed her breasts, while her own were busy with his shirt buttons. The passion which had detonated between them drove all restraint from her and she drew his head down again when he

  would have lifted it, giving a shuddering sigh as his mouth touched hers once more.

  She didn't know for how long they kissed, but gradually the clarity was returning to her mind, and presently she withdrew from him and, after a moment, managed to say soberly, 'I don't know if this is because you're hurt, or because you think I'm hurt by this evening's events—but no!'

  Barak's expression was unreadable. He stretched out a hand towards her, then dropped it. `Go, then, Nicola,' he said harshly. As she hesitated, he added, 'Go on. Goodnight.'

  Blindly Nicola turned and left him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  IT seemed to Nicola as if she had hardly gone to bed when it was time to get up again. Her rest had been brief and wakeful, because she had lain awake for a long time at first, tormented by thoughts of Barak, and he had even haunted the little sleep she managed to get, so that she had woken several times.

  As she ate a hurried breakfast, Ellen told her that Barak had gone out. To see the Graemes, Nicola supposed.

  `I can't think why he hasn't returned to say goodbye to you,' Ellen said in worried tones as the time for Nicola's departure approached.

  `Oh ... we said goodbye last night,' Nicola lied

  hastily as she put down her knife and fork, unable to eat anything more.

  `That's all right, then.' Ellen sounded relieved. 'I hope you had a good time at Angel's Throne.'

  `Yes, thank you,' Nicola said soberly. A good time ! She thought of the pain and the yearning and the way the evening had come to a conclusion, and she smiled weakly.

  `Don't forget to write to us,' Traugott adjured her.

  `And you must come back some time,' Melanie insisted. She was dressed in her school uniform already, and Ellen would take her to school soon. She added, `Oh yes ! I nearly forgot to tell you, Nicola. That necklace you were wearing last night ... I saw it in the lounge. Don't forget it.'

  Nicola blushed. 'Thank you,' she murmured.

  Melanie stared at her, apparently intrigued by her deepening colour. 'How did it come to be there?'

  `I really can't think,' said Nicola, attempting to speak lightly, and even in the midst of her embarrassment and unhappiness she was able to look at the child with affectionate eyes and think how much she would miss that sober little countenance.

  `That's what Uncle Barak said when I showed it to him before he went out,' Melanie added. 'Where's he gone, Aunt Ellen? Who was it that phoned so early this morning?'

  `I don't know, Melanie. Barak didn't tell me. Eat up, dear.'

  After breakfast, Nicola fetched the jade necklace from the lounge, packed it, and went outside. She wanted a last look at the farm she had grown to love.

  There was the high wall over which she had pushed Melanie. The memory of the rabid dog couldn't even make her shudder because there were so many other things which had affected her more profoundly ...

  She wandered up to the semi-circle of ashes and looked down on the Vendas working and singing on the plantations below. Further down was Melanie's special copse of trees. Nicola's eyes softened. She was very conscious this morning of the affection she had come to feel for the solemn little girl.

  She walked down again, to the stretch of land between the house and the gum-tree plantation. It was from here that she had been painting the mountain that first afternoon when Barak had come and ... Well, in some strange way, they had communicated that day. He had even admitted it.

  And now there was not even to be a goodbye. It seemed wrong that there should be no farewell exchanged between them ...

  But perhaps last night had been in the nature of a farewell. She lifted a hand in a gesture that was half mocking, half sad. Barak would forget, but she would go on remembering—forever.

  She stared unseeingly up at the mountain as she stood there, experiencing a pain which was no less intense for being, by this time, familiar. There could be no remedy, of that she was sure. She thought of Barak continuing to love Vanessa for years after her death, and she despaired, because she was afraid of knowing that sort of bondage. She didn't want years and years of nothingness, grey years with only

  memories colourful. Would she ever emerge from the shadows?

  When she got home she might travel to Natal and spend some time with her grandparents, she thought sadly. It was a health-giving region, the coast, but she realised that it would take more than ozone to cure her complaint. A sad yearning seeped through her as she recalled all their exchanges and, in particular, his kisses.

  Was there no help for what ailed her?. No forgetting, ever? Would there always remain these shadows, whatever she did?

  And her painting? She needed joy to be able to paint, she realised with sudden fear. She recalled her father saying he could see
painting taking second place in her life. He had been right about that, she conceded now. And without the man who was of primary importance to her, could her second love mean anything? She needed the first now to find joy in the second.

  She dragged herself back to the present and, finding herself still gazing up at the mountain, thought—how stupid, how sentimental, to have come here because she and Barak had once talked here. Their relationship, if it could be so termed, had no future, and she ought to get away from here as quickly as possible ... now ... at once !

  She turned, then started to shake as she saw Barak coming towards her, tall, casually dressed, immeasurably beloved.

  So there would, after all, be a farewell.

  As he reached her, he said easily, 'I meant to be back earlier than this.' He paused, his eyes giving nothing

  away, no hint if he recalled last night's events, as they swept over her face. His mouth twisted slightly. 'First, I'd better tell you—Todd Baxter crashed his car last night.'

  For a moment she hardly took it in. Then something in his tone made her ask, 'Dead?'

  Barak inclined his head, watching her carefully. `Yes. Fortunately the road was deserted, so he didn't take anyone with him He was driving wildly and went over the mountainside.'

  `How ... how awful,' Nicola said inadequately. 'And Hilary?'

  Still those light grey eyes never left her face. 'Hilary is ... free now, with a second chance for happiness. But I imagine her experience with Baxter will have made her a very wary woman. I doubt if he'd have ... grown up.'

  `Yes,' Nicola agreed absently, still busy assimilating the fact of Todd's death. 'And Denise? Is ... is she upset?'

  `As distressed as she'd be over anyone. She and Baxter had a lot in common I've been with her and her parents this morning. We talked for a long time and it's finally been decided that Denise is to go to Europe. Initially she'll be looking up some distant relatives in Scotland, and then she wants to go on to the Dante Alighieri translators' school in Italy.'