‘There are several legends attached to the baobab tree,’ he told her casually, watching Frances clamber over the protruding roots. ‘Some people believe that a very old baobab tree is eventually consumed by fire, but this story has very little substance. The tree merely disintegrates, that’s all.’
‘And the other legends you spoke of?’ she prompted, her curiosity overcoming her uneasiness in his presence.
‘Do legends interest you, Miss Logan?’ His bearded face was turned towards her, the dark eyes mocking and watchful.
‘They fascinate me,’ she admitted, sustaining his glance and disliking him more with every second as the suspicion grew that he found her amusing for some reason.
‘Tell her the one about the crocodile, Daddy,’ Frances insisted, dropping to the ground and running to Olivia’s side.
‘Well, it’s said that a draught of water in which the seeds have been soaked for some time will offer protection against being attacked by a crocodile,’ he obliged, and Olivia could once again have sworn that he was laughing at her behind that ferocious beard of his. ‘It’s also said that a lion will devour anyone who picks one of the flowers as they’re supposed to be inhabited by spirits.’
‘I’ve heard quite a different version concerning the flower of the baobab tree,’ Olivia said thoughtfully, grimacing slightly as the afternoon heat seemed to envelop her, making her body feel clammy beneath her usually cool silk dress. ‘They say that if you pick one of its flowers and cast it into a hollow stem, you can make a wish.’
‘A wish?’ Frances demanded, all ears despite her father’s sceptical glance. ‘And will your wish come true?’
‘I don’t know,’ Olivia laughed self-consciously. ‘I’m only mentioning what I’ve been told, but I haven’t thought it worth repeating until now. It’s most probably, just as many legends are, a fabrication.’
‘There’s a hollow in this stem, so let’s make a wish,’
Frances announced with an eagerness that would not be denied as she literally threw herself at her father. ‘Help me pick a flower, Daddy, so I can make a wish. ’
‘You surely don’t believe all that nonsense, do you?’ he laughed, and his laughter sounded strangely pleasing.
‘Sometimes wishes do come true, Daddy,’ Frances insisted, and Bernard King’s expression sobered as he lifted her on to his shoulder in order to reach one of the flowers. Moments later they watched in solemn silence as she ran across to the hollow in the stem, then, closing her eyes tightly as she wished, she dropped the flower into it. ‘Now it’s your turn, Olivia.’
‘My turn?’ she asked, her heart lurching uncomfortably at the thought of provoking further laughter from the man standing beside her.
‘Yes,’ Frances nodded with childlike innocence. ‘Pick a flower and make a wish. Quickly, Olivia!’
Olivia glanced speculatively at the flowers on the overhanging branch, realising, to her embarrassment, that she would never be able to reach one without something to step on.
‘Perhaps I could be of some assistance,’ Bernard King spoke behind her as he summed up the situation and, before she could protest, his large hands circled her narrow waist and she was lifted effortlessly to within reach of a flower.
Flustered and embarrassed, she fumbled as she picked the delicate blossom and, keeping her face averted, she thanked him and stepped across to the hollow in the stem of the tree. She made a hasty wish, but despite the fact that there was some distance between them, she could still feel the touch of those strong hands about her waist, and the uneven beat of her frightened heart persisted for some time.
‘What did you wish for, Miss Logan?’ he asked once the act had been accomplished, capturing her wary glance relentlessly with his.
‘I wished—’
‘Don’t tell him, Olivia,’ Frances interrupted anxiously, her dark eyes widening. ‘If you tell someone what you wished for, then it won’t come true.’
‘I’d forgotten,’ Olivia admitted, her composure in the process of being shattered. Would this day ever end? she wondered as she felt the perspiration trickle down her back. Could this detestable man not find something else to interest him instead of observing her so closely with those frighteningly disturbing dark eyes of his?
‘Daddy, it’s your turn to make a wish,’ Frances insisted, tugging at his hand and mercifully drawing his attention away from Olivia, who was beginning to feel frantic with the desire for escape.
‘I think two wishes are enough for one day,’ Olivia heard him say. ‘Let’s take a look at what Evalina has packed into that basket for us.’
A large piece of canvas was spread out on the uneven ground, and being able to help with this was balm to Olivia’s nerves. Having a primitive picnic under the baobab tree was nothing new to Bernard King and his daughter, Olivia realised as she joined them on the canvas to explore the contents of the basket.
‘Good heavens!’ she exclaimed, forgetting her nervousness for a time as she viewed the variety of home-made biscuits, jam tarts and apple pie with disbelief. ‘It seems as though we’re about to have a party.’
‘Evalina’s speciality is the apple pie,’ Bernard informed her. ‘Try some.’
‘I will, thank you,’ Olivia smiled, helping herself to a slice and biting into it. ‘Hm ... it is delicious,’ she agreed to her hosts’s satisfaction.
Not having eaten much at lunch, Olivia discovered that she was hungry. Frances and her father, too, helped themselves to the spread before them as if they had not eaten since breakfast that morning, so Olivia felt quite safe in helping herself to another, and yet another piece of apple pie, which she washed down with the glass of orange juice Bernard King had poured for her.
Frances finally threw herself down on to her stomach beside Olivia, and cupped her chin in her hands as she gazed dreamily out across the veld. Olivia followed the direction of her glance and, to her surprise, saw the sunlight reflected on the water of a dam which was just barely visible through the trees. So this was where Frances and her father swam on those days they came out to the tree on horseback, she thought, closing her eyes against the glare, and becoming aware of a lazy inertia stealing through her limbs.
Some sixth sense warned her that she was being observed and, opening her eyes, she found herself looking directly into Bernard King’s infinitely disturbing brown eyes. Perhaps it was the oppressive heat, she told herself after a moment, which had slowed down her reflexes, but she found herself unable to look away for several time-suspending seconds while she experienced the peculiar sensation that she was drowning, and in need of air.
‘Would you care for something more to drink?’ His deep voice shook through her, bringing her sharply to her senses.
‘No, thank you,’ she shook her head, drawing the hot air deep into her lungs as she looked away.
‘I think it’s time we returned home.’
‘Must we, Daddy?’ Frances demanded frowningly as she sat up, her glance lingering on the shimmering water through the trees.
‘We didn’t bring swimming gear with us, so we can’t go for a swim in the dam,’ he said, guessing accurately at the reason for Frances’ reluctance to return home. ‘I also think that the heat is beginning to affect Miss Logan. ’
‘It—it is a bit hot,’ Olivia admitted, meeting Frances’ concerned glance and smiling apologetically.
‘It will take quite a while for you to acclimatise,’ Bernard King told her, rising to his feet and extending a large hand towards her. ‘Come on.’
He helped her to her feet, his hand gripping hers a moment longer than was necessary before he released it, but Olivia pretended to be unaware of this as she helped him fold up the sheet of canvas while Frances returned the basket to the Land Rover.
The drive back to the homestead seemed to take much less time than the drive out to the tree earlier that afternoon, but then Bernard King had driven at a considerably slower speed as if he had wanted to give her the opportunity to admire the veld in its still pr
actically raw state.
Olivia heard Frances take a swift but soft indrawn breath at the sight of the bottle-green Triumph parked in front of the house. The gauze door leading on to the verandah opened as the Land Rover crunched to a halt beneath the tree where it had been parked earlier that day, and red hair flashed vividly in the sunlight as a slender figure came down the steps and hurried towards them.
‘Bernard, where have you been?’ that silky voice demanded almost petulantly as they climbed out of the Land Rover.
‘Frances and I took Miss Logan to see the old baobab tree,’ Bernard informed Ilona Haskins, smiling down at her with a degree of tolerance Olivia had not expected of him.
‘Miss Logan?’ Ilona queried, her green glance going for the first time to Olivia who walked rather stiffly round to the front of the Land Rover with Frances by her side. ‘Oh ...’ Ilona’s eyes flashed with a hint of venom. ‘I didn’t notice you. Have you developed a sudden interest in baobab trees, Miss Logan?’ ‘It is a most unusual tree,’ Olivia said lamely, realising only too well that Ilona was hinting at some other reason for her interest in the baobab tree.
‘We also made a wish,’ Frances chipped in airily, going into detail about how they had wished on the flower of the baobab.
‘Really, Miss Logan,’ Ilona arched her perfectly shaped eyebrows derisively, ‘aren’t you a bit old for such childish games? I can understand Frances indulging in such fantasies, but the thought of a supposedly adult person making a wish on the flower of the baobab is quite laughable!’
Olivia’s anger flared, but Frances was quicker off the mark with, ‘There’s nothing funny about making a wish, and if my wish comes true you won’t be standing there laughing!’
‘Frances!’ Bernard King rapped out disapprovingly. ‘Apologise to Miss Haskins at once!’
‘I won’t apologise,’ Frances insisted fiercely, stamping her foot to emphasise the fact.
A chilling little silence prevailed before Ilona said with cold disdain, ‘Leave her, Bernard. I can guess whom you have to thank for the child’s impertinence.’
‘Olivia has nothing to do with my not wanting to apologise, so don’t you dare blame her!’ Frances leapt to Olivia’s defence, her face contorted with anger.
‘Frances,’ Olivia whispered reprovingly, flattered that the child should have defended her, yet afraid of the consequences such behaviour might evoke. But, to her surprise, Bernard threw back his dark head and laughed loudly, displaying strong white teeth and the tanned column of his strong throat.
‘Calm down, will you,’ he said at last when he had managed to control himself, surprising Olivia even further by adding, ‘If I’d believed in the magic of the baobab, I might have made a wish as well. Now, let’s go inside and have something cool to drink. ’
‘I’m afraid I must go now, but it’s been a delightful afternoon,’ Olivia said quickly, anxious now to escape from Ilona’s poisonous glances, and the tension that still hovered like static electricity in the air.
‘You can’t go yet, Olivia,’ Frances pleaded instantly, clutching at Olivia’s hand.
‘I must, Frances, but I look forward to next Saturday.’
‘Next Saturday?’ Ilona’s eyebrows rose sharply above enquiring green eyes which were directed at the man beside her.
‘Frances will be spending her Saturday mornings with Miss Logan in future,’ Bernard King explained carelessly.
‘ Oh ...’ said Ilona, clearly taken aback by this disclosure.
‘You must come again, Olivia,’ Frances insisted, tugging at her hand to draw her attention. ‘Next time Daddy could take you for a flip in his aeroplane.’
‘I don’t think that would be such a good idea,’ Olivia laughed self-consciously, aware of Bernard King’s silent regard, and the angry sparks emitting from Ilona’s eyes. ‘I’m terrified just thinking about it.’
‘You’d be safe with Daddy,’ Frances told her confidently.
‘I’m sure I would be,’ Olivia smiled shakily, ‘but I prefer keeping my feet on the ground, thank you. ’
Frances’ disappointment was obvious, but she offered no further protest as Olivia murmured a hasty farewell and climbed into her Apache.
Olivia drove back to Louisville with mixed feelings, for despite the fact that she had been so adamant about going to Mountain View only for Frances’ sake, she had enjoyed the afternoon to a certain extent and, despite Bernard King’s assertion that he tolerated her presence only for the sake of his child, he had been courteous ... and very disturbing. Ilona Haskins’ presence at the homestead on their arrival had caused the sparks to fly between Frances and herself, and Olivia dreaded to think what might have happened if Bernard had not saved the situation by laughing it off.
Bernard! Olivia flushed at her audacity to think of him merely as Bernard, but he was the most perplexing man she had ever met, and the most unpredictable. She could still hear his laughter ringing in her ears; deep and throaty, and the memory of it sent a strange quiver along her nerves, making her hands tighten involuntarily on the wheel while her soft mouth hardened.
She was feeling hot and sticky as she parked her car in the garage and locked the doors before rummaging in her handbag for the key to her flat, taking no notice of the flashy red sports car that pulled up beside her at the kerb, and wanting only to escape up to her cool flat.
‘Hello there!’ Gerald’s voice drew her attention. ‘It seems I timed it perfectly this time.’
‘This time?’ she asked, a quick smile flashing across her face.
‘I called earlier this afternoon, but found no one at home,’ Gerald explained as he climbed out of the car without bothering to open the door.
‘I was out at Mountain View.’
‘Bernard King’s place?’ Gerald asked incredulously as he followed her up the steps to her door.
Olivia nodded and explained briefly the incidents which had led up to that afternoon’s picnic beneath the baobab tree.
Gerald pinched her arm lightly. ‘I told you he was a likeable chap.’
‘I didn’t find him all that likeable,’ Olivia replied coldly. ‘Ilona Haskins was there when we arrived back at the house,
and she was positively venomous.’
‘She would be,’ he said, following her inside once she had unlocked the door, and lowering himself into the nearest chair. ‘She more or less considers the man her private property.’ ‘Well, she needn’t have any fears where I’m concerned,’ Olivia replied adamantly, dropping her bag on to the small table and collapsing wearily into the chair opposite Gerald’s. ‘I’m very fond of Frances but, as far as Bernard King is concerned, I couldn’t care less whether I never see him again.’ ‘It does my heart good to hear you say that, so what about having dinner with me this evening?’
‘Gerald, I’m rather tired, and ... ’ The look of disappointment on his lean, handsome face curved her lips into a smile of resignation. ‘If you like, you could stay and have pot luck with me.’
His green eyes sparkled with delight. ‘That sounds fine to me.’
In a way it was good to have Gerald with her for a few hours. His company was relaxing and the tension which had plagued her so incessantly during that afternoon uncoiled within her until she found herself laughing almost hilariously at silly little remarks he made; remarks which would not normally have drawn more than a chuckle from her. She was tired, she realised eventually, and the heat in the veld had sapped her strength, leaving her close to exhaustion.
Gerald did not stay late and whether, because of her tiredness, he had interpreted her behaviour to mean something more, she could not say, but he tried to draw her into his arms as they stood in the shadowy doorway.
‘Don’t spoil our friendship,’ she pleaded instantly, pulling away from him before his lips could touch hers.
‘You’re not very good for my ego, you know,’ he mocked gently, not relinquishing his grip on her arms.
‘I’m sorry, but I think it best that you know exactly w
here you stand. ’
‘And where do I stand?’
Olivia raised her tired glance to his, the light from the lounge casting shadows beneath her eyes and making them appear larger than they actually were. ‘There can never be anything more than friendship between us, and I don’t care for meaningless flirtations.’
Gerald’s expression sobered considerably. ‘I wasn’t flirting with you, Olivia.’
‘You’re not serious either,’ she contradicted, a touch of humour curving her lips despite the fact that she wished he would go and leave her to shower and crawl into bed.
‘You’re a cool little creature, my dear, and I can see it will take someone far more determined than I am to win your love,’ he said gravely, releasing her arms. ‘In the meantime, you won’t mind if I hang around, will you?’
‘I won’t mind at all, just as long as you don’t expect more of me than I can give,’ she laughed lightly, pushing him playfully out the door. ‘Goodnight, Gerald.’
To her relief he went without any protest, waving as he reached the bottom of the steps, and leaping into his hood-less car like an energedc boy before he started the engine and roared off down the silent street. Olivia sighed and shook her head. He was an absolute dear, but he could never mean more to her than just a friend. It was a pity, but there it was.
CHAPTER FIVE
Vivien telephoned Olivia at the shop the Monday morning and, as Olivia had suspected, her trip out to the farm became the first topic of conversation, and she was instantly on her guard as Vivien said:
‘I heard all about Bernard taking you out to the old baobab tree on Saturday, and Frances also told me how the two of you made a wish. ’
‘I found it very interesting to learn of the various legends attached to the baobab,’ Olivia replied politely, hoping that that was all Frances had divulged.
‘I bet Bernard never mentioned the legend in which he became involved as a young man. ’
‘Which one was that?’ Olivia asked, not particularly interested in Bernard King, but curious about the legend.
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