by Gloria Bevan
Up here in the hills there was only the sheep—and a tiny white church. As Maggie glanced towards the small building set high on a rise, she mused that it was probably made use of by all sects in turn, in the scattered district. She fell into a daydream where she and Danger were being married in a tiny white church atop a green hill, then pulled herself up sharply with a wry thought of his horrified expression were he to be aware of that particular technicolored fantasy.
‘Bring your swim-suit with you?’
‘Yes, of course!’ She jerked herself back to reality and the bearded young face at her side. They were moving over a narrow ridge and she glanced down to the vast acres far below.
‘Not long now,’ Tony remarked. ‘Look, you can see the sea!’
Leaning forward, she discerned, between a gap in the hills, a line of blue on the horizon. ‘Do you use the place much?’
‘Heck, no! When we were kids we thought it was the only place on earth! It’s pretty quiet—a few baches, lots of greenery about, good sheltered boat harbour. They say it’s great for fishing—’ he threw her a distasteful grin—‘if you happen to go for that type of entertainment.’
Maggie smiled. ‘I don’t mind sampling the results.’
‘Oh, I’m with you there! It’s a funny thing,’ he confided in a low tone, ‘but I’ve never wanted to go near the place for years, until you came along—’ He sent her a warm smile. ‘Only way I could think up to get you out and away from Te Rangi for a while—’ He broke off, then went on thoughtfully, ‘You sure stick close around home there. I mean, it’s a day’s work to get you away from the place! Anyone would think,’ he said lightly, ‘that you liked being on the job day and night.’
‘I suppose so.’ But there was no real amusement in Maggie’s sad little smile.
‘Tell me something, don’t you ever get fed up with being over at Amberley all the time?’
All at once Maggie didn’t want to discuss her personal problems or her life at Te Rangi. ‘It’s only temporary,’ she said stiffly.
To Tony her short answer went unnoticed. He shrugged thin shoulders, saying on a note of relief, ‘Thank the lord for that!’
‘Anyway,’ Maggie said, ‘you mightn’t be staying long here, yourself? If you decide that you’re not cut out for sheep farming after all—’
He threw her a wry look.
‘Maggie, you’ve got it all wrong! I decided that when I was five years old, or maybe a shade earlier. What I’m hoping is that I won’t have to change my mind about the farming lark. If things turn out right, and I think by the way matters are going right now that they will, there’ll be no problem. With Ann married to a man who knows the work and loves it—what’s the matter, Maggie? Getting fed up with the drive? Won’t be long now.’
‘No, no,’ she returned hastily, ‘I love the drive.’ With an effort she pushed away the wave of misery that had swept over her. That was the worst of having a wretchedly open face that registered every passing emotion for all the world to see.
‘That’s okay, then. For a minute I thought you looked ... sort of sad.’
‘You imagined it!’
She’d have to do better than this at the bach, she told herself. What if she gave herself away once again and Danger guessed ... suspected ... The thought made her try out her gayest smile as she burst into animated chatter that she managed to sustain until they swept over a rise and came in sight of a wide blue bay. At the water’s edge, small neat holiday homes were painted in bright shades and surrounded by green trees, colourful flowering shrubs. Fishing boats and pleasure craft skimmed the calm waters of the sheltered bay.
As they took the road that bordered the sea, Maggie noticed that the beach wasn’t sandy, as she had expected, but was made up of a myriad small coloured pebbles. Tony followed her gaze. ‘Rock hunter’s paradise,’ he told her. ‘They say there are stones here that you don’t come across anywhere else along the coast. Red jasper, green beryl and that glassy black stuff—onyx, isn’t it? We used to spend hours collecting it when we were kids, Ann and I. That was before rock hunting got so popular. Now you never know who you’ll run across up here in the back of beyond. Parties come up from town by chartered bus, hot on the trail of the coloured stones. Here’s our shack, last place on the point—’
On reaching the end of the headland he turned up a winding drive towards a small timber dwelling on the rise, almost concealed among trees and great bushes of hibiscus and tropical plants. A wide verandah ran along the front of the beach house and as Tony put a key in the lock, Maggie glanced through the uncurtained french doors. She could glimpse a wide spacious lounge room with polished timber floor and comfortable worn chairs. Beyond, twin bedrooms were each fitted with bunk beds and a painted dressing chest.
The stale smell of a dwelling long unused met them as they went inside. Tony went from room to room, opening windows and flinging wide the french doors, letting in the fresh sweet smell of flower-scented air. ‘Tide’s on the turn. It’s now or never if you want a swim!’
‘Race you in!’ Maggie hurried into a bedroom, to emerge a few minutes later wearing her white swim-suit that formed such an arresting contrast with the golden tan of her skin.
Tony, in swim shorts, joined her almost immediately, and she knew a moment’s surprise as she took in his frail physique. He looked far too thin, almost delicate, and certainly in no fit state to take on the strenuous physical toil involved in the running of a large sheep station.
‘Let’s go!’ He caught her hand and they went down the dusty overgrown path. Then they were crossing the metal road, painful to Maggie’s bare feet, running over a strip of long grass and taking a winding path that led steeply down between high lupins to the water below.
Down on the pebbly shore, Maggie gingerly picked her way over the small strip that was all that remained of the beach at high tide.
After the first breathless shock, the water was a delight, clear and rippling with a breeze that tossed the tall trees along the shoreline. They struck out side by side and when Maggie paused, breathing hard, to cling to an anchored dinghy, she found Tony beside her. Although there were a handful of bathers far along the shore, they appeared to have this part of the bay to themselves.
‘Maggie—’ He threw a wet arm around her shoulders, but she slipped from his grasp and laughing, struck out for deeper water, long black hair streaming behind her.
‘Come back! Or I’ll come and get you!’
She only laughed and went on, her clean strokes taking her swiftly through the water. When at length she paused to float idly on her back she realized that Tony had turned and was swimming towards the shore. She turned to follow him and when she reached his side at last saw with a tinge of alarm that his thin face had a bluish tinge and his teeth were chattering with chill.
‘Think I’ll—go in.’ Although he made an effort to hide his discomfort Maggie realized that he was far from well. To spare his feelings she said quickly, ‘I’ve had enough too.’
‘Don’t you want to sunbathe?’
‘Not on these pebbles!’
‘Okay, then,’ she caught the note of relief in his tone, ‘let’s go up to the house.’
While Tony went to the bunk room to dress, Maggie switched on the tall chrome electric jug. Even if Tony made no mention of his chill and exhaustion she would see that he had a hot drink right away. She was stirring instant coffee powder into pottery beakers that she’d reached down from a high shelf in the kitchenette when a car swung into the driveway and braked at the side of the house. A few moments later Danger and Ann, their arms laden with cartons and tins of foodstuffs, entered the room.
‘Hi, Maggie,’ Ann said cheerfully, ‘I see you knew where to find the coffee. Where’s Tony?’
‘In there—’ She jerked her dark head towards the bunk room, all the time conscious of Danger’s glance. Still wearing her dripping swim-suit, wet hair hanging around her face, she must look a mess. She didn’t dare look up at him directly for fea
r of seeing that derisive look that was all he ever seemed to have for her these days. She tried to focus her thoughts. ‘He seemed—a bit cold.’
Ann nodded. ‘He’s always like that after a swim. Guess it’s got something to do with being so thin and all that. He can catch a chill in the water quicker than anyone I ever met.’
‘Who says so?’ Tony cried indignantly. He was pulling a sweater over his bare shoulders as he emerged through the curtained opening. His fair hair was sleekly combed and a little colour had come back to his pinched cheeks.
‘I do,’ his sister returned mildly. ‘Remember that other time when you finished up with a dose of pneumonia?’
‘Do you mind?’ Tony pulled a face at her, then turned to toss his damp swimming trunks through the open window, where they landed neatly on top of a nearby hibiscus bush. ‘Hello, Danger!—ah, do I see coffee?’
They pulled up gaily coloured stools to the counter-type room divider and sipped the hot liquid. Ann, laughing and animated, chatted gaily and Tony appeared to have recovered his good spirits. Maggie was silent, avoiding Danger’s glance, conscious all the time that he too was making little contribution to the conversation. Why had he come, she wondered crossly, if he only wanted to show his disapproval of his make-do, unsatisfactory housekeeper?
‘We stopped next door on the way here,’ Ann was saying. ‘The Stenbergs are down for the weekend too, with their yacht, so I asked them all over for a barbecue tonight.’ She turned her green eyes towards Maggie. ‘We’ve known them for ages, Wayne and Denise, they used to come down to the bach when we were all kids. Now they’re both married, but they still weekend at the bach. They’re going out for a sail soon, anyone can come, they said. How about you, Maggie?’
Hesitatingly she stared down into her beaker. Was Danger going sailing? she wondered, and made up her mind that in that event she wasn’t. She couldn’t bear that chill disapproving look in his eyes every time she glanced up to meet his bleak gaze. Tony, however, saved her the trouble of making a decision by saying promptly, ‘Not for Maggie and me, thanks! We’re off for a hike around the bay. That’s right, isn’t it, Maggie?’
She nodded smilingly. ‘If you say so, boss,’ and was immediately conscious of Danger’s penetrating angry glance. So he didn’t approve of that idea, either! But then, she thought indignantly, he didn’t approve of anything she did. She wouldn’t put it past him to have come here today with the sole intention of keeping an eye on her. Oh, it was quite in order for him and Ann to seek each other’s company, but when it came to Maggie Sullivan, that was something else again. Not that it would do him any good. She’d go for a long walk with Tony, the longer the better, and he could scarcely join them. Even he could hardly do that!
‘Count me out too,’ Danger was saying, ‘I’ll give you a hand to clear up the place outside if you like, Ann. Got a scythe about? And how about that beat-up old lawnmower that used to be parked under the verandah—is it still about?’
Ann nodded happily, her green eyes shining with a sudden pleasure. ‘That would be marvellous!’
Watching her, Maggie thought, an afternoon alone together, with herself and Tony out of the way. Why shouldn’t Ann look delighted?
A little later as they sat around a picnic lunch, Maggie had to admit that Ann was a splendid cook. She remembered her own home-baked scones, with their customary all-but-burned tops that Danger and Ian still protested they preferred. Once again she told herself that for a sheep-farmer’s wife in a remote district, Ann was the perfect choice.
Perversely, once she was with Tony, taking the dusty metal road that curved around the bay, she found herself wishing that she had remained at the beach house. She could have helped in clearing away weeds from the overgrown paths and garden, and that way she would have been with him. Only, she reminded herself with a sick feeling of anguish, he didn’t want her.
Tony seemed unaware of her lack of interest as he pointed out to her various landmarks and told her of the owners of the various keelers, catamarans and tiny yachts with sails like vividly-coloured butterflies, that skimmed the tossing wavelets.
Taking in little of what she saw, Maggie passed the neat seaside cottages, each surrounded by a green lawn where invariably a boat of some description was pulled up at the side of the dwelling. They moved on to a small wharf where the wind tore at Maggie’s damp hair and whipped her short skirt around her legs. Then they leaped down on to the beach where the ebbing tide had exposed a shelf of rocks, their varied colours intensified and gleaming wetly. Strolling along the shore, they passed an occasional ‘rock-hound’, but the searchers, intent on the rocks and pebbles, took little notice of the dark-haired girl and the fair, bearded young man at her side. Crayfish pots lay along the shore and when they reached a headland, fishermen were standing on the rocks casting their lines out into deep water beneath. At any other time Maggie would have enjoyed it all immensely. A new place was always of interest to her, especially anywhere on the sea coast, but today her thoughts kept returning to Danger. Danger and Ann ... she had to make a conscious effort in order to concentrate on what Tony was telling her.
It was no easier to bear, she found, when they returned to the cottage. For the sight of Ann and Danger, laughing and joking together as they cleared away lush growth, made Maggie more than ever aware of her own dull ache of misery, the hopeless longing for something unattainable. Better, she told herself, to keep busy. She offered to make a salad to accompany the barbecued steaks. Tony insisted on helping her and soon he was finding tomatoes, washing crisp lettuce leaves, opening a tin of sliced beetroot.
‘Thanks.’ She was barely conscious of him. Her mind was on the voices she could hear outside in the garden. The twilight was fading and a fat yellow moon was climbing over the dark sea when at last the other two, earth-stained and hot, came inside for a shower and a change of clothing.
Maggie watched Tony set up the barbecue grill. When all was in readiness he picked up a bottle of methylated spirits, pouring a few drops over the charcoal. ‘This should start her off in a hurry! Got a match, Maggie?’
She passed him the box and turned away for a second. Then she saw it happen. The bottle slipped from his grasp, overturned and as the liquid touched flame a great sheet of fire rose. She saw Tony dart back with an expression of pain, heard his call. Then she was running into the house, snatching a cloth from a table and wrapping it around the blistered hands. ‘It’s Tony—burned!’ she gasped, as Danger came hurrying towards them.
In two strides he had reached a medicine cabinet with its red cross and while Maggie threw water on the blaze, Danger swiftly smeared Tony’s badly burned hands and chest with burn cream. ‘It’s a job for a doctor, I’m afraid. I hope,’ Danger added under his breath, ‘that he’s down at the beach this weekend.’
‘He is!’ Ann cried as both men got in the car, and the girls tumbled into the rear seat and slammed the door. ‘I saw him arrive when we were talking next door.’
Already the car was swinging down the drive and speeding along the rough metal road. Maggie caught a glimpse of Tony’s face, pale and drawn with pain, and then they were lurching into an entrance and Danger braked to a stop outside a small neat white beach cottage.
Just as Danger leaped from the car a woman came out on to the verandah. ‘David about, Mrs. Trelawny? We’ve got a burn case—Tony.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ the white-haired woman was sympathetic, ‘but he was called away to a maternity case at the hospital.’ She caught her breath as she took in the extent of Tony’s injury. ‘Better get him over to the hospital. I think he needs some treatment. I’ll tell you what—I’m on the way there myself. I’ll take him right away.’
‘Wonderful!’ Ann breathed on a note of relief. ‘I’ll come, with you.’
‘No need,’ Tony protested faintly, but Ann, taking not the slightest notice of her brother’s words, went with the doctor’s wife as she settled Tony in the front seat of the big comfortable car. As the vehicle sped down t
he drive Maggie caught a brief glance of Tony’s face as he turned back, forcing a smile from swollen lips.
So where did it leave her? she wondered. It left her to share the long drive back alone with Danger, something she certainly hadn’t bargained for on this trip; something that filled her with a trembling sense of awareness that was half dismay, half secret delight. After all, it had been taken out of her hands ... poor Tony.
‘Don’t worry too much,’ Danger said. ‘He’ll be right again in a day or two. Hell! I’ve just remembered that barbecue. Better zip back right away and tell the others it’s all off. Hop in, Maggie!’
In spite of everything she couldn’t help but feel excitement in just being here with him in the dusk, his strong dark profile outlined against the fading light.
In the end it was quite some time before they left the cottage. The friends who were staying next door for the weekend, horrified at the news of the accident, insisted on Danger and Maggie sharing a drink with them. And afterwards when they returned to the bach, there were the food and drinks to collect and the barbecue grill to put away. Maggie repacked the cardboard cartons with foodstuffs, while Danger went outside to collect garden tools and stow them away in an outside shed.
Last of all he picked up the telephone receiver. ‘We might be lucky enough to get some news by now,’ he told Maggie.
To their relief, they learned from the hospital that Tony had already arrived and was now feeling ‘comfortable’. They could inquire again in the morning as he would be staying for at least two more days.
‘Comfortable?’ Maggie raised dark brows.
‘Means they’ll have given him an injection to deaden the pain,’ Danger replaced the receiver, ‘and that’s something. He’s in good hands now. Well, that’s about it.’ He turned to latch a window, then taking the cartons from Maggie, waited for her to go out on to the verandah before he secured the french doors.