It Began in Te Rangi

by Gloria Bevan

  As they mingled with the crowd, Tony took Maggie’s arm. ‘Why didn’t you ring me yesterday?’ he whispered. ‘I waited all day, longest day of my life, honestly! I thought if she wants to come to the show with me she’ll let me know. What a day I put in. Will she? Won’t she?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Maggie’s voice was abstracted. She was gazing at a boldly executed portrait of a buxom blonde of massive proportions and bulging muscles. The picture bore the simple title: Mummy. ‘I meant to get in touch with you, but I was busy and somehow,’ she turned on him her gay, pixie smile, ‘I forgot.’

  ‘Forgot! She says.’ Tony groaned. ‘That’s almost as bad as being out with some other guy. Not that there could be anyone else, that’s what I kept telling myself all day yesterday, not in Te Rangi.’

  Maggie felt a pang of the heart. So Tony too had already written off Danger when it came to possible husband-material, for anyone except Ann. With an effort she wrenched her mind back to the light tones.

  ‘Come on, let’s park the kids some place and. get a bit of time to ourselves—’

  But Maggie had caught sight of men standing near tall logs on a grassy area a short distance away. ‘Wood chopping!’

  He sent the area a disinterested glance. ‘What of it? It’s just the jigger-chop. They always have it going at this sort of show. Why they want to wear themselves out bashing away at an old tree trunk gets me. Come on, Maggie—’ She scarcely heard him. She was glancing towards the men standing waiting near the logs. One tall rangy figure in white singlet and slacks appeared strangely familiar. ‘It’s Danger!’ she breathed excitedly. ‘I didn’t know he was entering in it—’

  ‘He wasn’t,’ Tony murmured morosely. ‘Seems that some guy pulled out at the last minute and they persuaded Danger to take his place. He’s an old hand at the game,’ he added carelessly, ‘so I suppose that’s why they were dead keen to get him.’

  ‘Let’s go and watch!’ Maggie called to the children.

  ‘But Maggie—’ Tony caught her arm.

  Ignoring his protests, she was already hurrying over the grass towards an area where men in white, axes in hand, were already standing at the side of spaced logs, each of the same diameter. As she reached the watching crowd, an announcer called over the loudspeaker and she saw Danger stroll forward to stand beside a tall log. He tested the sharp blade.

  ‘Go!’ As the signal was given Danger, with an easy swinging motion, plunged the singing blade deep in the log. The chips flew around him as the axe fell with swift precision, sunlight glinting on the flashing blade.

  Maggie darted a swift glance towards the other contestants. No doubt but that Danger was already in the lead. Now he had cut a deep notch, ramming the end of the jigger so that it stood at right angles to the log, and leaping up on to the platform, he proceeded with rhythmic blows to cut another notch higher up, to ram the jigger in again ... and another...

  Maggie found herself standing in the front of the throng, beside Ann. She was scarcely aware that she was calling excitedly. ‘Hurry! Hurry!’ For a Maori man of magnificent physique who was obviously an experienced bushman was almost at the same stage of progress. What if he beats Danger? Maggie thought. They’re chopping neck and neck! How could Danger be so calm, so unconcerned? Now he was on the last jigger, had cut almost through the bark-trimmed log. The crash! the log toppled to the grass below and Danger leaped lightly down. Within two minutes the other three contestants had felled their logs, then the announcer was addressing the crowd through his loudspeaker.

  ‘—pleased to announce the winner of the jigger chop and Jubilee Challenge Trophy—John Dangerfield!’

  They waited to see him presented with a gleaming silver trophy and as he turned aside, Ann ran forward, her plain features transfigured with excitement. ‘Now it’s my turn to congratulate you, Danger! You’ve done it again!’

  ‘Thanks, Ann.’ They strolled back in the direction of the family party and as they came nearer Maggie saw Danger push the trophy towards Ann; heard him say carelessly, ‘Here, take care of this for me, will you? Cups are more in your line than mine!’ All at once Maggie was aware that he was looking directly towards her.

  ‘Congratulations.’ Somehow the word emerged in a sort of croak.

  ‘Thanks, Maggie.’ He stooped to pick up his blue T-shirt. Fortunately, she thought, he didn’t appear to have noticed the unaccustomed huskiness of her tone. Or maybe he just wasn’t interested. Why should he be? But as for her, loving him as she did, how could she help this desolate feeling? For Ann, a silver chalice—the real thing! And for herself? A cheap gold clock, and imitation gold at that!

  The thought caused her to turn more kindly towards Tony than she might otherwise have done. ‘You won’t mind if I carry Maggie off for a while?’ he was saying to Danger. ‘The kids will be okay?’

  ‘We’ll look after them.’ It was Ann who answered.

  Maggie turned away. She wished she hadn’t come here today. She wished— But you had to pretend, to look as though life wasn’t getting the better of you. And Tony meant well, she couldn’t deny that. He insisted on taking her to an afternoon tea stall, cool and shady under a green canvas awning, and looking at his animated expression she told herself wryly that at least someone in the party was feeling happier for her being here.

  She didn’t see the others again until the end of the Grand Parade at the close of the day, when animals selected from the New Zealand stud breeding industry were led into the main arena to form a great circle on the green.

  There were champion red and white Hereford cattie, prize-winning ribbons draped around their sturdy necks, massive Shorthorn bulls, rings through their noses and led by proud owners, pedigree sheep, children with their calves, and entrants of the pony ring. They were followed by trotting sulkies and draft horses, then arab stallions, mares and foals and champion hacks. The moving chain formed a great ring as they made a full circuit. Then it was over and the crowds were converging towards the gates. Horse floats and transporters began moving in the parking area, and tired children, clutching balloons and eating hot dogs, were propelled reluctantly towards dust-coated cars.

  ‘Enjoy it?’ Danger had come to stand at her side. Before she could do more than nod in reply, he had run on: ‘Better get away before the mob. Kids are waiting in the car.’

  She had a wild impulse to giggle at Tony’s expression of open-mouthed surprise. ‘Wait a minute—’ But before he could say more Danger, with a curt nod, had shepherded her away.

  ‘I’ll keep in touch!’ Tony called after her, but she scarcely heard him, for how could she think of anything or anyone else when she was alone with Danger in the crowd, pressed close to him, his warm touch on her arm as he guided her through the throng.

  When Maggie walked into the kitchen Mrs. Wahonga was already there. She threw Maggie her beaming smile. ‘You have a good time at the show, eh— What’s this?’ She broke off in pleased surprise as Ian flourished a scarlet prize ribbon before her eyes. ‘Look, Mrs. Wahonga! My first red one!’

  ‘Good for you, boy!’

  ‘How about you, Mrs. Wahonga?’ Maggie asked quickly. ‘I bet you won that contest for knitting a pullover from the sheep’s wool?’

  ‘Oh, that was nothing,’ but the pleasant dark face was smiling contentedly.

  ‘Did you really?’ Philippa had come into the room in time to hear the last words. ‘Where is it? The pullover? What did you do with it?’

  ‘Oh, I give it to my boy Hone.’

  Maggie stared across at the Maori woman in amazement. ‘Do you mean to say you made that huge garment, I mean it must have been a huge one, to fit your Hone! It must have taken ages more work than the ones the other women were making! Why ever did you make it for him?’

  The Maori woman looked puzzled. ‘He needs it. You know? When he goes out fishing at night, he gets cold.’

  Maggie gave up. ‘You really deserved to win that contest. What was the prize, anyway?’

  ‘Look!’ The
big woman pointed with pride to the fluffy sheepskin slippers, resembling scarlet canoes, that she wore on her feet. Late in the day though it was, the temperature was still high, but evidently, Maggie thought, Mrs. Wahonga was determined to make use of her prize, no matter how uncomfortably hot the slippers might be.

  ‘Oh, Maggie, I almost forgot—’ She brought her mind back to the pleasant tones. ‘Some man, he keep ringing you ever since I got home. Ring! Ring! Ring! I tell him you out, maybe won’t be back until late, but he take no notice. You know what? I think he like you a lot, that Colin!’

  ‘I see.’ Absently Maggie began to collect the children’s Jackets. As she moved towards the door her thoughts were chaotic. Colin! Again! And she had thought she’d made her point cruelly plain to him. But to telephone her here at Amberley! He must have done some swift detective work to discover her whereabouts, but of course it would be a simple matter to inquire down on the beach after she had left him. Anyone living in the district would be aware of the identity of John Dangerfield’s young housekeeper.

  At the shrill ring of the telephone bell her hand froze on the door handle. ‘If that’s him I can’t speak to him—’

  But of course it was and she did, for Mrs. Wahonga was holding out the receiver and there was nothing else Maggie could do.

  She was only vaguely aware of what Colin was saying, confusedly conscious of Danger having entered the room, and of course he couldn’t help but overhear every word she said. Even in her state of bewilderment she couldn’t mistake the fact that Colin was bent on coming here next weekend. ‘To say how sorry I am about the other day,’ he told her. ‘To put things right again.’

  Frantically she tried to put him off the idea. ‘No, please! I mean, I won’t be here!’

  ‘Oh, come on, Maggie, you made up that story this minute!’

  ‘No, honestly—’ she heard herself babbling into the receiver, ‘I promised ... someone else.’ All at once she remembered the invitation that Tony was repeatedly pressing on her, that she come with him and Ann to their beach cottage at a weekend. It was an invitation that she had continually sidestepped under the excuse of not knowing whether or not she would be free of her household duties. For although Danger had urged her on more than one occasion to arrange for Mrs. Wahonga to relieve her while she took a couple of days off duty, so far she hadn’t done so. No need to inform her employer of the real reason why she stayed at Amberley. She came up at last with a satisfactory excuse that happened to be the truth—well, near enough anyway.

  ‘It’s some people who live around here,’ she heard herself saying. ‘They’ve got a beach cottage around the bay and I said I’d go with them ... I don’t know whether it’ll be on Saturday or Sunday, or maybe the weekend. Anyway, Colin —’ a frantic glance behind her showed her that Danger was bending to take off Mark’s shoes. She couldn’t get involved in an emotional argument right now. ‘I’ll ring you back,’ she said faintly, and with that Colin had to be content.

  ‘There you are, mate!’ Mark scampered away and as Danger straightened Maggie met his chilly blue gaze. If only she could make him understand! ‘That was Colin,’ she said nervously. ‘I told you. He—’

  ‘I gathered that,’ he broke in dryly. ‘I thought we’d had all that out before, Maggie.’ She looked away from his bleak, impersonal stare. ‘Your personal life is your own affair—’

  ‘But—’

  ‘And as to weekend arrangements, you can count the time your own. Mrs. Wahonga can easily fill in for you. You’re due for some time off anyway, and seeing you want to go over to the cottage for the weekend—’

  ‘I don’t want to go all that much, not really,’ she protested breathlessly. ‘It was just...’ Her voice died away beneath his sardonic look. A. look that she knew from experience meant one thing only. Once again she’d done the wrong thing, or so he imagined; had earned his silent contempt. Not that he was saying so, not aloud. He had no need to. His grave chilly glance made his opinion of her devastatingly, hurtfully clear.

  ‘Just that you’re so much in demand, I take it?’

  All at once she couldn’t endure the twist of the mobile lips, the hard mocking tone. How dare he censure her? For that was what his look implied! He took it for granted that she was having an affair with a married man, and leading Tony on to care for her into the bargain! He wouldn’t allow her to explain. Well, let him think what he liked! It was unjust and horribly unfair. She wouldn’t stand it another—minute!

  ‘Yes, I do want to go,’ she told him in a flurry of words. ‘Tony asked me to go over to the cottage with him and Ann, ages ago! Have you any objection to that?’

  ‘None at all, Maggie—if that’s what you want!’ He turned aside. ‘I’ll fix it with Mrs. Wahonga to come up for a couple of days at the weekend ... mind the kids.’

  Up to the last few moments she hadn’t had the slightest intention of leaving Amberley for a visit to the beach cottage owned by Tony and Ann. Neither of them meant a thing to her. She wouldn’t care if she never saw them, again. But she was committed. Now she must make the best of it.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Don’t thank me.’ At the door he turned, hatefully polite.

  ‘It’s all in the rules, Maggie. You’re well overdue for some time off ... I guess I should have thought of it before. Easily fixed up though, now that you’ve made up your mind.’ Whatever that meant, she thought furiously. Made up her mind concerning holiday time due to a household employee? More likely he meant ‘made up your mind about men friends’. Her footsteps dragged as she went thoughtfully towards her own room. Why did everything have to be such a mess? Why couldn’t she and Danger ever understand each other? How was it possible to love someone so desperately, and to hate him at the same time?

  CHAPTER TEN

  If Maggie wasn’t looking forward to the visit to the beach bach, she had no doubt regarding Tony’s delight in the anticipated outing. Twice during the week he rang to chat with Maggie and to make arrangements for the visit. ‘Don’t do a thing about food,’ he told her in his soft, light accents. ‘Ann’ll bring along all the goodies. She’s been on at me for weeks to come with her and have a bash at tidying up the place.’ Over the wire she caught his scornful laugh. ‘She’s got a hope!’

  ‘Why not? You could—’

  ‘With you there? After all the effort and time I’ve spent persuading you to come with me? Not a chance! All I’m thinking of doing over there is getting you away from the others—’

  The others? Maggie’s heart missed a beat, and she was barely aware of the remainder of the conversation. Would Danger too be at the cottage? Seeing that Ann would be there wasn’t it to be expected? She didn’t want to put the question to Tony. She wished Danger would come—no, she didn’t! It would be unbearable for her if he did. His tightlipped silence was only endurable because he was out early in the morning attending to the sheep on the far hills, to return in time for a late dinner at night. But it would be different at the bach, different and infinitely harder to bear his silent contempt, even if he were taken up with Ann. With Danger you could never seem to conceal anything. Those keen blue eyes caught you out every time. At all costs she must guard her tell-tale glance, hide the feelings she had for him. Being in love was something she could do nothing about, couldn’t fight against. All she could do was try to discipline her voice, her glance, and at all costs avoid his touch.

  She was relieved that Danger was working far from the homestead, patrolling the boundary fences on Red, when Tony called for her. He was driving the family car, his bearded young face bright with anticipation.

  ‘Isn’t Ann coming with us?’ Maggie inquired as she got into the passenger seat and he closed the door after her.

  He threw her an expressive glance. ‘Don’t tell me you want her around today? Actually,’ he pressed the starter and threw the car into gear, swinging around on the wide gravelled driveway, ‘she’s coming later with Danger—much later, I hope!’

  A sense o
f excitement stirred in her. So Danger was coming to the beach cottage after all; Not with her, not because of her, but coming nevertheless. It was awful, she thought, to long for him so much, even in his present unmistakable mood of disapproval towards her; even though he was obviously in love with someone else. Tony got out to open a gate and she watched him with abstracted gaze. Love ... it did things to you, made you so—so helpless so that your whole universe was suddenly centred in just one man. A deep sigh escaped her. A man who in a few short weeks she would never see again. Funny how a kiss could change your life so that nothing was the same again, ever ... and it seemed there was not one thing that you could do about it. With an effort she wrenched her heavy thoughts aside. Tony was singing lightly as they sped up the winding curves. ‘You sound happy.’

  ‘Can you blame me?’ He threw her a smiling sideways glance. ‘Got you all to myself at last—on a day like this!’

  It was a wonderful day. Maggie admitted, glancing idly around her. Rinsed blue sky, clouds racing overhead in the breeze, air crystal-clear.

  Soon they were taking the car-ferry over the river crossing. And once over on the opposite bank, they swept along pleasant white roads bordered by hilly, sheep-dotted paddocks with their seven-barred fences. Presently they turned into a side road and Maggie found herself in unfamiliar country. Leaning back, she watched the landscape slip by. Emerald paddocks, lush with spring grass, with their dividing boundaries of great clumps of feathery toe-toe. Deep ditches lined with tall bamboo, stretched on either side of the roadway, and cream cans rested on timber stands at farm gateways. The wild peach trees growing along the route had shed their pink blossoms, but on the kowhai brandies the last remnants of gold still lingered. Soon they came in sight of a saw-mill and as they climbed a pine-covered slope Maggie caught the tang of freshly-sawn timber. Then they were dropping down, skirting mangrove swamps with their choked muddy streams, sweeping up a rise where the air was spiced with the sharp fragrance of tea-tree bushes, starred with white blossoms, that covered the slope.