by Susan Napier
He saw Jane still standing on the verandah and slung his arm across the girl's narrow shoulders, tugging her back towards the house in spite of her obvious reluctance.
'I hope Melissa wasn't rude. Sometimes she tends to act first and think later when family matters are at stake,' he said, coming up the steps.
'Melissa?' Jane echoed faintly as the truth hit her. She tried not to gape as she compared the sulky, slinky creature in front of her to the vague memory of a plump brown-haired sixteen-year-old trailing Ava down the aisle. No wonder the hostile green eyes had seemed so familiar. Although she had never met Ryan's sister she recalled Ava describing how excited Melissa had been about being a bridesmaid for the first time and how much she had loved her frothy dress.
Ryan was digesting her ill-concealed shock. 'Of course ... who did you think she was?' he asked curiously.
Jane stiffened. 'I had no idea, since she didn't stop to introduce herself,' she said coldly, to hide her chagrin.
She was so busy grappling with the implications of Melissa's arrival that she allowed herself to be hustled into the kitchen where Ryan calmly set about the ritual of morning tea.
'Jealous, Jane?' he murmured in her ear as he moved past her to place the kettle on the stove.
'In your dreams!' she muttered, haughtily ignoring his knowing smile, aware of Melissa's resentful regard.
'Oh, yes-frequently... ' His soft words were accompanied by a brief resting of his hand on her hip, ostensibly to move her out of the way so he could reach the mugs on the shelf behind her.
'You still haven't been formally introduced, have you?' he said as they all sat down at the kitchen table. 'Jane Sherwood, my sister Melissa, who's an aspiring model-'
Melissa's head jerked back. 'I'm not aspiring. I already am a model!'
'Part-time-'
'Only until my career takes off. As soon as I get more jobs than I can fit in with my lectures I'm dropping out. I can always go back to university later-'
It was obviously an old argument. 'But you won't. It's much harder to get back into studying after years away from it. I don't know why you can't continue to fit your modelling around your lectures.'
'Because a modelling career doesn't last very long-'
'So much more reason to have other qualifications to fall back on.'
'So you have to strike while the iron's hot, make the most of your opportunities when they occur. If I want to succeed I have to make myself available when photographers want me to be available, not the other way around.'
'What do you think?' Ryan asked Jane unexpectedly.
'What's it got to do with her?' snarled Melissa, tossing her head in a swirl of fire.
'Absolutely nothing,' said Jane flatly. 'It's your life. What you do with it is entirely up to you.' She looked across at Ryan. 'Don't let anybody tell you any different.'
She could see that Melissa was torn between the desire to use the comment to support her own views and the equally strong desire not to agree with anything Jane said.
'Troublemaker!' said Ryan. 'Here-' he dunked a straw into Jane's mug. 'Drink your tea. Jane wanted to be a dress designer but she let her father bully her into business,' he told his sister.
Again that flicker of confusion as Melissa frowned at the dressing and tape on Jane's hands. 'I don't see why I should be expected to feel sorry for her,' she burst out, gnawing on her pouting red lips. 'Or why you had to move in with her. I couldn't believe it when I found out where you were-'
'I've already explained all that.'
So that's what they had been discussing so heatedly in the garden. Jane would have traded her last cent to have heard his explanation!
'But-'
'Melissa!'
The quiet thunder only slightly subdued the girl's rebelliousness. 'I only wanted to ask why it had to be here!' She cast a disparaging look around the kitchen, much as her brother had done several days before. 'At least up the hill you'd have tons more room and all the mod cons!'
'Up the hill?' Jane frowned in puzzlement.
The breath hissed through Ryan's teeth as Melissa said sullenly, 'At our place. Why couldn't you have stayed there instead of making my brother live in this dump?'
'I didn't make him do anything,' gritted Jane, before the true import of Melissa's words sank in. No wonder Ryan had wanted to shut his sister up! 'Wait a minute ... your place? Are you saying that you have a bach here at Piha?'
Melissa laughed scornfully. 'I'd hardly call a five bedroomed house on three acres of headland bush a "bach"!' It was her turn to frown as she looked from Jane's blank shock to her brother's annoyed expression. 'You didn't know? You didn't tell her we had a house here?' she asked Ryan in a deeply disconcerted tone of voice.
'No, he didn't tell me!' said Jane, feeling just as unhappy as she glared at the culprit.
He had the gall to shrug coolly. 'Since you were adamant you wouldn't leave here, it didn't seem relevant. Besides, technically the house isn't mine-I bought it for our family trust a couple of years ago.'
'Not relevant!' she repeated with outraged shrillness.
'Well, was it? Would you have accepted an invitation to be my guest while your hand healed?'
'No! But I didn't invite you to stay here, either, and that didn't stop you going ahead and doing it anyway!' she pointed out.
'Because you're too stubborn to admit you need help with everything but the lightest of tasks. I'm not leaving you alone until you can prove otherwise-'
'Why don't you just hire a nurse for her?' Melissa interrupted truculently.
'Because Jane is my personal responsibility,' said Ryan, with a faint emphasis that made Jane flush. 'And as you know, Mel, I always take my responsibilities seriously.'
The quiet implacability of his statement sounded like a warning, although Jane wasn't sure whether it was intended for herself or his sister. But Melissa obviously possessed a full measure of the dogged Blair tenacity, for while she appeared to let the subject drop she re turned to it from different angles again and again, with terrier-like persistence.
'But it's mid-term break-you know I only have a week off. If you're going to be down here you should at least be staying with us.'
Jane could have retreated to her room, but she was not going to be driven even further into exile by this family. If they wanted to discuss their private business then they would be the ones to withdraw. So she sat in silence, her face a mask of haughty indifference as she sipped her tea, secretly fascinated by the interaction between brother and sister.
Ryan was revealing another facet of himself, mild and restrained, as he dealt with Melissa's youthful dramatics. The deep bond of their affection for each other was revealed in the freedom with which they argued, unconstrained by fear of being rejected or belittled for their beliefs. Even though they sparred vigorously there was none of the bitterness that had characterised Jane's father's attacks on her actions and opinions.
It was something Jane had never had, and envied horribly-that easy affection, that wonderful security of knowing that you're loved whatever you say or do. So she was almost sympathetic when Ryan briefly left the room to check an incoming fax and Melissa rounded on her like a virago.
'As far as I'm concerned you deserve everything that's happened to you! If you think you can sink your claws into my brother you've got another think coming!'
'I don't think there's much danger of my doing that at the moment,' said Jane wryly, indicating her damaged hands.
'I don't believe that pathetic helpless act for one minute.' The green eyes blazed fiercely. 'And I bet Ryan doesn't, either! He said you were a lying, scheming bitch!'
'Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?'
Ryan came back before Melissa could think of a comeback but, a few minutes later, she jumped up from the table.
'Well, if you're not going to stay up at the house, then neither am I,' she announced dramatically to her brother. 'I'm going to stay here
with you!'
While Jane gaped at her presumption, Ryan merely leaned against the sink, looking indulgently amused. 'You-in this dump? Where there's no running hot water, no television and you have to do your laundry by hand?'
Melissa looked briefly aghast before tossing her head m annoyance. 'If you can hack it, so can I. I'm driving up to get my things. I'll be back as soon as I can.'
And with a triumphant look at Jane's stunned face she flounced out of the house.
Jane recovered her voice. 'She's not serious, is she?' she cried, crossing to the window to watch the girl fling herself behind the wheel of her jazzy yellow car and rev it unnecessarily as she backed into a turn. 'Does she think I'm running a free boarding house for stray Blairs? It's ridiculous! One uninvited guest is bad enough. If she comes back you tell her she can't possibly stay here!'
Ryan shrugged as he put their cups in the sink. 'Once Mel gets an idea into her head it's difficult to dislodge it. She’s very big on family togetherness. For a long time I was the father figure in her life, and even after Mum married Steve I was the one to whom Mel looked for primary advice and guidance--consequently she's rather possessive of me.'
He gave Jane a sly, sidelong look. 'As soon as she found out I was here with you she came hotfoot to check the situation for herself. For some reason she seems to think I need protecting from your wicked wiles.'
'Maybe the reason being that you told her I was a lying, scheming bitch,' said Jane acidly.
'Ah, well...' He spread his hands ruefully. 'Perhaps she did overhear me say a few uncomplimentary things about you in the past.'
'How did she find out where I was? How many other people know you're here?' she asked jerkily, feeling the world she had escaped threatening to close in on her again.
'Just Carl, Irene-my secretary--Graham Frey ... and my mother, of course. As far as everyone else is concerned I'm having a break from deadly office routine at the family holiday home-'
But Jane's brain had frozen. 'Your mother?'
He looked at her gravely. 'There are no secrets in my family, Jane. We've always been frank with each other. Mothers tend to worry if they don't know where their children are, even when they're adults.'
Oh, God ... 'What did you tell them? How much does Melissa know about me?'
'Everything. '
'Everything?' Jane was appalled; her hands rose to her hot cheeks.
Gently Ryan shackled her wrists and pulled her arms down, preventing her from hiding her devastated expression. 'I don't mean the intimate details-that I tried to treat you like a prostitute and you tried to treat me like a one-night stand. I don't involve my sister in my sex life,' he said, ruthlessly excising her shame. 'But she certainly knows the rest-what your father did to ours was always openly discussed in our house, and she knew I was obsessed with getting revenge on him, and then on you ..'
She couldn't look at him. 'So she knows that it was me-at the wedding-'
'Of course. My family believed in me, even if others were quick to condemn-they deserved to know their faith was justified. They didn't agree with my decision to protect Ava by refusing to make a scandal out of your lies, but because they loved me they accepted it and supported me with their silence-even though it strained some of their own friendships.'
'Oh, God...' She shivered. No wonder Melissa had looked at her with hatred and contempt.
Ryan's hands ran up and down the back of her goose-pimpled arms, warming the chill from her skin, pulling her against the solid column of his body. Their height difference was accentuated by her lack of shoes, and Jane's nipples tightened treacherously against the lace of her bra as her belly nudged his denim-clad hips.
'You were cold then, too... Your voice had that emotional frigidity you assume whenever you're most frightened,' he murmured against her forehead. 'You were so damnably convincing in your humiliated dignity that for one nightmarish moment I nearly believed it myself. Why won't you talk about it with me? Is it anything to do with Ava-why she was so quick to forgive you? Help me to understand.'
She had stiffened within the circle of his arms at his shattering admission, now she pushed at his chest with panicky elbows.
Ava! His voice always softened on her name. Perhaps speaking to her on the telephone had reawakened some of his old feelings, and if he was still carrying a torch for her then to discover how thoroughly she had betrayed his love and trust would be even more deeply humiliating now than a quick, cruel dose of the bitter truth would have been three years ago. Who wanted to be told they had spent years cherishing a shining memory that was in reality a pitiful lie? He might feel justified in lashing out with another destructive orgy of vengeance.
Either way, Jane would once again be caught in the middle. She had already revealed too much about herself to him over the last few days-being misunderstood was the last line of defence for her wary heart! 'I thought you'd already decided that it was the jealous spite of an old maid.'
There was wry humour in his voice as he let her go and tilted her chin with his fist. 'You may be old now but you were only twenty-three at the time. Oh, I can still accept the jealousy part, but not the spite. You're a fighter, but unlike your father-and me-you haven't proved to be very good at nursing a grudge. By all rights you should hate me with a passion, but instead, well...' He trailed off, his eyes moving down over the full breasts pushing against the soft T-shirt ... down to delicately tanned legs revealed by her linen shorts.
'I do hate you,' she said quickly. Too quickly. His eyes gleamed and he dropped a kiss on her mouth, the kind of casual salute he had perfected purely to drive her mad.
'One day you're going to trust me enough to tell me what I want to know...'
And then he would walk away. 'Is that what all this pretence of caring is about? Persuading me to talk about the good old days?' she managed sarcastically.
He didn't even bother to argue that it wasn't a pretence. He merely gave her the bold, confident smile of a seasoned hunter. 'That...and seducing you back into my bed!' .
Maybe there might be an advantage to having a hostile nineteen-year-old chaperon hanging around after all! Jane thought feverishly.
She was wrong.
Melissa arrived back as threatened, her small boot stuffed with a clutch of bags that necessitated Ryan shifting boxes from the third bedroom into the garage. She lavished her brother with laughing attention and hissed baleful insults at Jane whenever the two women were alone. She complained about anything and everything, especially the fact that Jane was being waited on hand and foot while she, Melissa, had to take on her share of the chores. At lunch she changed into another outfit designed to make Jane feel like a slattern for arriving at the table in the same T-shirt and shorts, and entertained Ryan with non-stop stories about people that Jane didn't know and cared less about.
In the afternoon she got a measure of her own back by going for a brisk walk along one of the bush tracks that linked up with other walking trails through the western Waitakeres. But her usual enjoyment of the hushed beauty of the native forest was compromised by the sound of Melissa panting and whining in her wake, constantly begging Ryan to slow down, or rest, or help her get the stones out of her sneakers, or identify some piece of flora or fauna-anything to prise him away from Jane's side.
Later, while Ryan was working at his computer and Jane was lying on an old rug in the garden sketching on some scrap paper, with a small pencil-stub lightly suspended between her left forefinger and thumb, she was joined by Melissa, who wore a minuscule string bikini that would have created a riot on the beach. Braced for another round of hostilities, Jane instead found herself listening to chapter and verse about the many, many beautiful, witty and wonderful women who charmed Ryan's existence, how marvellous a son and brother he was and how he would never do anything that would hurt his mother, especially after the hardships and disappointments she had suffered in the past...
A sledgehammer would have been more subtle.
&
nbsp; Jane gritted her teeth through a chatter-filled dinner that Melissa had merrily helped her brother prepare and could barely raise a smile when Ryan firmly stated that she was making him nervous by hovering over his shoulder as he changed the dressing on Jane's burnt palm. He suggested she pour the pan of hot water on the stove into the sink to start the washing-up, and she immediately began complaining about the unnecessary strictures on the use of electricity.
'The little sister from hell,' Ryan murmured ruefully, gently peeling off the old dressing while Melissa clattered the plates indignantly into the sink behind them.
'You should know-you both come from the same origins,' Jane whispered tartly as they studied the shiny pink patches of new skin emerging from beneath the weeping blisters, but the hint of conspiracy in his amusement was irresistible. 'One minute she's the wicked witch of the Waitakeres, the next it's Pollyanna on speed,' she muttered. 'Is she ever going to run down?'
He chuckled. 'She's jealous.'
His soft reply feathered along her exposed nerves.
'I don't know why-I'm not making any claim on you.'
His eyes were very blue. 'A claim doesn't have to be verbal to exist. If she hasn't already guessed we're lovers she soon will...'
His whisper seemed as loud as a shout in her ears, and Jane flushed as she glanced guiltily at Melissa's expressively outraged back.
'Ex-lovers,' she said through her teeth. Her eyes fluttered down and she experimentally flexed her fingers and winced.
'Still painful?'
Jane nodded, grateful for the prosaic turn of the conversation. 'But only when I clench or stretch it... the rest of the time it's just uncomfortably tight.'
'Graham says to give it another few days under a light dressing, then you can leave it open to the air.' Much to Jane's embarrassment he was reporting her progress to his friend over the telephone each day, as if her moderate burn were of life-threatening importance.