by Gloria Bevan
‘How’s Mark feeling today?’ she asked quickly.
‘Dunno!’ Swinging a towel in his hand, he blinked sleep-rimmed eyes. ‘He’s still asleep in there—’ His voice quickened to a note of alarm. ‘Crikey! You’re not going to wake him, are you? Can’t we have a few minutes more in peace?’
Maggie laughed and went along to the room shared by both boys. One glance at Mark’s heavy-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks told her that he was far from well. His forehead, when she put a hand out to touch him, was still burning hot.
He shifted restlessly in the bed. ‘I’m hot. Can I have a drink of water?’
‘I’ll get it for you. Don’t throw off the blankets, Mark. You’ll have to stay in bed today, I’m afraid.’
Even this dreaded fate, however, awakened little interest in the sick child.
‘You haven’t a headache, have you?’
‘Nope.’ The fair head turned listlessly towards her, and Maggie bent to catch the muttered words. ‘I wanted to go with you!’
‘Well, I’m not going away now,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I’m going to stay right here and look after you. And that means,’ she added, ‘that you have to stay in bed until you’re better!’
‘You’re not going! Beaut!’ The glazed blue eyes showed a spark of interest. Then as he flung himself sideways Maggie caught sight of clusters of pink spots that were dotted along the plump arm. Measles! The complaint she had so lightheartedly wished on the children just to spite Danger! Somehow the wish had backfired and she was stuck with nursing Mark back to health herself. And Ian slept in the same room as the sick child! Wildly she wondered if the two older children had been inoculated against the infection. Perhaps they had already caught the germ.
Mark too had noticed the spots on his body. ‘I’ve got marks,’ he muttered in a puzzled tone, ‘here, and here, and here! Lots of marks!’
‘Yes, I know you have. It looks like measles to me!’
‘Measles!’ A look of pride spread over the flushed small face. ‘I bet Philippa and Ian haven’t had them!’
‘Give them time,’ Maggie thought gloomily. Wildly she made calculations in her mind. Three children, at three weekly intervals, each one ill for at least two weeks... She was conscious of a wild urge towards hysteria. How amused Danger would be were he to guess how unfortunately her malevolent wish had rebounded in her direction, keeping her a prisoner here for weeks to come.
During breakfast she found that her misgivings regarding the two older children were only too well founded, for neither had had measles. Nor had they been inoculated against infection. ‘Betcha we cop them at Christmas,’ Philippa said glumly, then she brightened. ‘But I don’t care, so long as you’re not going away!’ She beamed happily on Maggie.
Ian gave a loud cheer, inquiring in the same breath when Maggie intended making more of those super crusty scones. There was no mistaking either the pleased surprise with which Mike and Gavin reacted to the news of Maggie’s altered plans.
‘Gee, that’s great!’ Mike’s narrow face wore a delighted grin.
‘They’re putting on a dance over at Mataroa next week,’ his mate suggested eagerly. Overcome with sudden shyness, he glanced down to his plate of poached eggs on toast and murmured uneasily, ‘That is, if you’d be interested?’
Maggie smiled. ‘I might be.’ Her thoughts were with Danger, who alone had added nothing to the general atmosphere of excitement. But of course he wouldn’t! Why should he pretend to feelings he didn’t possess? He was pushing back his chair, his expression abstracted. ‘You’ll have to excuse me, folks. Got to get cracking on that fencing job down in the far hill paddock.’ His gaze went to Ian and Philippa. ‘Better get on to those school assignments today, kids. Dishes, then correspondence work. Right?’
Maggie stifled a pang of disappointment. What had she expected of him? A speech of welcome? ‘Wait—’ she appealed to Danger as he was moving with his long easy stride towards the door. ‘What about Mark?’
He eyed her coolly. ‘Better give Doc Smith a ring and get him to come up to the house. He mightn’t be able to make it today though, depends on where he happens to be. Got his number? It’s on the phone pad. Just as well to be on the safe side.’ He was as polite and impersonal as if she were no more than a strange girl who had come knocking at his door in response to an ad. Well, she pulled herself up short, wasn’t she?
‘I’ll come back at lunchtime and check. ’Bye.’ He was gone, striding up the long passage. A few moments later Maggie, watching through the open window, saw him vault a low fence and go whistling over the grass towards the horse paddock, a bridle jingling over his arm. It was odd how lifeless the place seemed without him. She jerked herself back to reality. With Philippa and Ian engaged in what was practically a hand-to-hand battle over who should wash and who was to dry the breakfast dishes, Mark yelling from his bedroom, Gavin and Mark arguing over the scores in a recent Rugby football match held in the district, the screen door banging. Lifeless? Quiet? She must be crazy!
Throughout the morning as she performed the household chores, punctuated by frequent attempts to get through by telephone to the doctor and endless visits to Mark’s room, the thought persisted. Danger. He might have shown, or pretended to show, some slight appreciation of her decision to stay here and help out. Distant as ever, at least so far as Maggie Sullivan was concerned, there seemed no way of cracking that cool composure. For no one could have regarded his reaction to her altered decision as exactly enthusiastic. Could it be—once again the thought came to plague her and she stared unseeingly over the soaring green hills, that it was her ridiculous likeness to that other girl, ‘his Cathy’, that put him so much on the defensive? Was it possible that, cool and aloof, he was nevertheless resisting just such an attraction? Was he making certain that there was no possibility of his being hurt or rejected a second time? That was, if he had been hurt or rejected by the termination of that old love affair. If only she knew the truth of it all. Close on. the thought came that other. Supposing, just supposing that were the truth, wouldn’t it be the easiest thing in the world to make him fall in love with her! Oh, not desperately, not fathoms deep or anything like that, but just sufficiently to make him wish to please rather than antagonize her. She really was getting awfully tired of always being the one to be placed in the wrong ... inept, foolish, inexperienced. What a triumph it would be were their positions to be reversed! In spite of herself she sighed. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if that could happen! But of course, there was Ann. She must have allowed herself to be carried away by flights of fancy to have lost sight of the other girl in Danger’s life.
The sudden croaking notes of a cuckoo clock on the wall recalled her to the present. Heavens, the morning was rushing by! All at once she remembered her employer’s instructions regarding the children’s correspondence lessons. Of course they might have settled themselves down already at the old table .in the dining-room. They might. Certainly both were old enough not to need reminding of so important a matter, but from what she already knew of the pair she thought it most unlikely.
‘We forgot,’ Philippa and Ian cried in unison, when Maggie found them at last. They were seated on the floor in a corner of Philippa’s room, deep in a game of Monopoly. ‘Okay,’ reluctantly they dragged themselves away from the enticing piles of mock banknotes, ‘we’ll get started.’
‘Why not take your work out to the table on the verandah?’ Maggie suggested. ‘I’ll have to set the lunch on the table in the dining-room later.’ She paused. ‘Don’t you have to listen in to the radio for lessons too?’
Philippa nodded carelessly. ‘Broadcasts to schools and all that? That’s not till later. Come on, Ian, back to the saltmines—’ Grumbling resignedly, they went in search of the green canvas mailbags that brought the school assignments that must be completed within a certain period.
With the older children occupied and Mark sleeping, Maggie hoped to get a clear run through the morning household chores, maybe even put
through a load of washing in the machine before lunch, but the ringing of the telephone halted her as she went along the hall.
‘That you, Maggie?’ Tony’s light friendly tones echoed in her ear.
‘Yes, that’s me!’ She had forgotten all about his promise to get in touch with her before she left Amberley.
‘I was afraid you’d have taken off already,’ he was saying on a note of warmth and relief. ‘Tried to get through to you half a dozen times last night, but there seemed to be no one around. Look, I’ve got to see you some place! Do you realize that I haven’t even got your address—’
‘But I’m not going.’
‘You’re not?’ She caught the note of delighted surprise In his voice..
‘I’ve changed my mind. Or rather,’ she laughed, ‘I’ve had it changed for me. Last night,’ she explained wryly, ‘Mark came down with measles. Sure you still want to see me?’
‘I’m immune, and even if I weren’t it would be worth the risk. Listen, there’s a dance on in the next village tonight. I thought maybe we—’
But Maggie cut in. ‘Sorry, but I can’t make it.’
His laughing tone challenged her. ‘What’s the trouble? Danger such a slave-driver as all that so that you can’t even escape for one night? I don’t believe it!’
‘No, no, no!’ For some reason she was reluctant to discuss her employer with anyone. ‘It’s just Mark. He’s a pretty sick little boy and I think I’d better stick around here. Once the doctor arrives and I can find out just how bad he is, I’ll feel differently.’
‘Okay, Nurse Sullivan. How about giving me a tinkle when things quieten down a bit? Let me in on what’s happening over there?’
‘I’ll do that—’ She broke off. ‘Sorry, I’ve got to run. It’s Dr. Smith, I hope, I hope.’
The doctor, by some fortuitous chance at home when Maggie phoned him, had called at the homestead after making other calls in the district. He ran a professional eye over her. ‘You’re looking much better.’
Maggie laughed. ‘Feeling it too. Maybe it’s just as well, with Mark down with measles—at least, that’s what it looks like to me.’
‘Let’s take a look at the young man.’ Of course her suspicions were only too true, and as she had expected, the doctor gave orders for Mark to stay in bed until the spots had disappeared. ‘Anyway,’ his eyes twinkled in a lined, weathered face; ‘I doubt if you’d be able to keep him there any longer.’ He gave Maggie a few simple instructions on the care of her patient, plenty of liquid, light diet, no chills, then bent towards his bag. ‘I’ll leave you some pills to take the temperature down—Danger’s darned lucky to have you here to lend a hand.’
Somehow Maggie felt she could confide in this man with the wise, kindly face. ‘I really only came up after housekeeping position, but,’ she hurried on breathlessly, ‘Danger didn’t seem to think I was quite—well, suitable. Then I got hit in the ’quake and when I was all ready to go, this morning, Mark came out in spots, so—’
‘So?’ The wise experienced gaze went to Maggie’s averted face.
‘So then I said that I’d stay, for a while. What else could I do?’
‘You sound as though you’ve changed your mind about the job here?’
‘Oh no! I love it at Amberley!’ The words came of their own volition. ‘It’s just that Danger ... he thought I wouldn’t suit,’ Meeting the doctor’s quizzical glance she added hesitantly. ‘He seemed to think that I was too young ... or something.’
‘Too young? Or too much like someone else?’ the doctor suggested shrewdly. He bent a grizzled head and picked up his bag. ‘You know all about that, of course?’
‘You mean, my being so like that other girl? I did hear something about it,’ Maggie admitted, ‘from Mrs. Wahonga. She seemed to get quite a shock when she first saw me.’ She longed to question him further but she knew his lips would be sealed. Had he not imagined that Danger had already brought up the matter of ‘his Cathy’ the doctor would not have mentioned the matter.
‘I can imagine.’ He was regarding her with his kindly gaze. They strolled up the hall and at the front entrance he paused. ‘Well, goodbye again, Miss Sullivan. You’re doing a great job up here at Amberley! Keep up the good work!’ With a friendly lift of his hand he went down the steps and got into his car. Maggie watched him speed down the curving path.
In the ensuing week, if it hadn’t been for the fact that Tony made a nightly phone-call, all thought of him would have fled from her mind. There were too many more pressing matters to engage her attention. For even though Mark’s attack of measles proved to be a mild one, Maggie found that a fretful and convalescent child was a more trying patient than the feverishly ill child of the first evening of the attack. Bored and irritable, he demanded ceaseless attention, and by the end of the fifth day, Maggie in desperation threw caution to the winds and made no protest when the older children climbed up on Mark’s bed and helped to amuse the fretful prisoner.
As the days went by she had to admit that Danger was proving a wonderful help so far as entertaining Mark was concerned. The small boy slept during the afternoons and in the evenings Danger spent a lot of time with the small patient, reading aloud the comic strips that delighted the child. Once the ridiculous supposition crossed Maggie’s mind that perhaps in amusing Mark, Danger was spared the necessity of being thrown into her company. She pushed away the small pang of hurt. He need not have bothered. She had other things to do once the evening meal was cleared away. There were the lunches to prepare for the two young farm helpers who were engaged in clearing a patch of scrub on a hillside far from the homestead. She had to make certain that the two older children were bathed and in bed at a reasonable hour, Mark’s endless wants had to be attended to, and inevitably there were odds and ends of ironing to be done. If Danger imagined that she spent her evenings seated in the lounge watching television and awaiting the doubtful pleasure of his company ... All the same, she thought wistfully, it wouldn’t hurt him to be just a little more companionable. He might have spent an evening with her just once. He might, but he didn’t! If he wasn’t closeted with Mark he was shut in the small room off the hall he termed his office. Maggie could see a line of light under the door when she went to bed and wondered how late at night he sat over the account books. On two occasions during the week he had left his desk to go to the garage and get out the Chrysler, a brief ‘you can reach me at Ann’s place if you want me,’ tossed over his shoulder to Maggie. It seemed, she thought forlornly, that Ann had merely to summon him and he rushed to her side, just like that, whereas with her...
Yet at the end of the week when he did enter the lounge room where she was curled up on the settee, she felt a curious sense of constraint.
Dropping into a deep wing chair opposite, he offered her a cigarette and rose to hold the lighter towards her. ‘Feeling the strain?’
‘No!’ She jerked upright, squaring her shoulders, hoping that the subdued lighting would serve to conceal the smudges of fatigue around her eyes.
‘Bad luck, old Mark catching measles.’
She laughed. ‘Bad luck for who? You, Mark, me?’ She couldn’t resist the light remark that nevertheless hid a barb.
But of course he refused to be trapped so easily. ‘Mark, for one. I’ve got to hand it to you, Miss—’
So it was ‘Miss Sullivan’ again. A spurt of hurt lent an edge to her tone. ‘Why do you call me that?’ she broke in. ‘Isn’t it a bit silly saying “Miss Sullivan” all-the time, instead of just Maggie?’
‘Well, “just Maggie,” you’ve done a great job of nursing! Old Mark’s pretty well on the way to getting back to normal, and you know exactly what that means!’ The corners of the firm mouth twitched. ‘All we need to do now,’ he drew on his cigarette, ‘is to wait for the others to go down—’
‘Could be all of three weeks from now,’ Maggie agreed, ‘and then it might only be Phil—’
‘Or Ian—’
‘And that would be anot
her three weeks—’
She couldn’t restrain the laughter that bubbled to her lips, and surprisingly, he laughed with her. It was almost as though they were a long-married couple discussing their family in their home. The ridiculous thought made her avoid his smiling glance.
‘Got an idea,’ he was eyeing her speculatively. ‘How about taking a day off duty tomorrow?’
For a second her face brightened in anticipation, then as quickly fell. ‘Oh, but I couldn’t. There’s Mark—’
‘Forget Mark! I’ve got it all jacked up with Mrs. Wahonga. She’s coming over first thing in the morning and I’m taking you for a ride over the hills. We’ll come back the other way, along the beach. Got to get you out of the house somehow.’
‘I’d love that!’ She was pleased and surprised, touched by his unexpected thoughtfulness. To be free of the confining duties in the sickroom, to be out and away, giving Pete his head as she rode over the sandhills ... Her eyes were alight with pleasure. The boss was actually taking time off work to entertain her! He was noticing her—at last!
‘It’s in the line of duty, rather.’ He was watching her narrowly. ‘Ann’s just rung to say she’s had a bit of bad luck. Some of their steers have got out of the paddock and taken off into the bush on the hills. If someone doesn’t round them up soon they’ll get so far inland we’ll never catch up with them. She’s got enough on her plate already without spending a day looking for them. We could give her a hand.’
All Maggie’s new-found happiness drained away. Ann. So that was the real idea behind the offer to take her riding. Oh, she might have known! He wasn’t thinking of her one little bit. It was Ann who filled his mind to the exclusion of anyone else. She made an effort to hide her sense of disappointment. ‘She’s all on her own on the farm?’ Mentally she answered her own question. She’s not really on her own, not with Danger helping her with every spare moment he has, and hated herself for the uncharitable thought. She brought her mind back to Danger’s voice.