Magic of the Baobab

by Yvonne Whittal

  ‘I just can’t believe it,’ Olivia giggled nervously, unable to grasp the fact fully that her very first attempt at a tapestry should win the first prize in the Louisville show when there would be so many other entries from women who had more experience in that type of needlework.

  ‘You’ll have to believe it once you’ve seen the blue rosette fastened to the frame,’ Frances said grandly, jumping from the car almost before it had stopped and grabbing hold of Olivia’s hand. ‘This way—quickly!’

  ‘Not so fast, Frances,’ Olivia begged as the child had her almost running through the crowds gathering at the various stalls.

  ‘Olivia!’ Tante Maria’s voice called to her as they passed the pancake stall. ‘Congratulations, my dear, with your tapestry.’

  A smile flashed across Olivia’s face, and pleasure welled within her as she faced the red-cheeked, blue-eyed woman, who stood flipping pancakes with a spotless apron tied about her

  plump waist.

  ‘Thank you, Tante Maria, but I can’t quite believe it yet.’

  ‘Then go and take a look, child,’ Tante Maria urged much to Frances’ relief, for she promptly continued to drag Olivia in the direction of the large brick building at the other end of the stalls, but their progress was hampered once again when Vivien came towards them with a loaded tray in her hands.

  ‘Olivia, isn’t it exciting?’ she wanted to know with a touch of arrogance in her smile. ‘I told you your tapestry was beautiful, didn’t I? You must go and have a look.’

  ‘If people will stop getting in the way, then I might be able to get Olivia to the hall where her tapestry is so that she can see for herself,’ Frances remarked pointedly in a very adult way.

  ‘Oh, excuse me,’ Vivien laughed, standing aside. ‘See you later, Olivia.’

  People were milling about admiring the entries in the various sections, but Frances took Olivia directly to where her tapestry was on display, the blue rosette with ‘1st Prize’ printed in white in the centre proving, without doubt, what the judges had thought of her work.

  It was unbelievable that what she had considered a paltry attempt at tapestry making should be so highly acclaimed, and she said as much to Frances who stood observing her reaction keenly.

  ‘Don’t go away,’ Frances instructed after a few minutes. ‘I’m going to fetch Daddy.’

  Left alone, Olivia admired the other entries, and was terribly disappointed that Vivien’s landscape had not won a prize. Ilona’s tapestry of the Laughing Cavalier won second prize, and Olivia was admiring the fine stitches making up the face when Ilona’s voice spoke directly behind her.

  ‘I suppose I should congratulate you, considering that I’ve always taken the first prize in the past. ’

  OUvia turned slowly to face her, her expression carefully

  composed. ‘I’m sorry about that, Ilona, but you don’t have to congratulate me if you don’t feel inclined to.’

  Ilona’s critical glance swept over the tapestry before returning to Olivia. ‘I can’t help wondering if you actually made it yourself. ’

  ‘I worked on it in the shop, and several people saw it before it was completed,’ Olivia replied, startled by the hidden accusation in her remark. Did Ilona actually think she would have the audacity to enter someone else’s work as her own?

  Ilona’s lips twisted cynically. ‘Of course, if I’d had the opportunity to select my own frame, then my tapestry would undoubtedly have taken the first prize.’

  Her barbed remarks were beginning to annoy as well as as inflict pain, taking from Olivia the joy of her achievement, and replacing it with a bitter regret that she had not been more firm with Vivien with regard to entering her work.

  ‘I’m afraid, Ilona, I took Bernard’s advice and left the selection of the type of frame to the people who did the actual framing, just as you must have done.’

  ‘Why was your tapestry only entered late this morning?’ Ilona demanded, obviously agitated at making no apparent headway with her accusations.

  ‘I wasn’t going to enter it, but Vivien came to the shop this morning and took it more or less without my permission,’ Olivia explained quietly, her eyes mirroring regret. ‘I’m terribly sorry, Ilona. I didn’t intend to enter my tapestry, and I had no real interest in competing with anyone, so I really am sorry your tapestry didn’t take the first prize. Please believe me,’ she added, hoping to soothe Ilona, but something in her manner made the blood recede from Olivia’s cheeks.

  ‘I’m afraid I’ve underestimated you, Olivia,’ she said, her eyes dark and stormy as she lodged her desperate attack. ‘You’ve made an utter fool of yourself by chasing Bernard in the most shameless way, using your wiles on Vivien and an innocent child like Frances in your efforts to get what you want, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t, in some way, use your

  influence with the judges as well.’

  A slap in the face could not have had a more devastating effect on Olivia as she stood white-faced and trembling, and humiliatingly aware that Ilona’s raised voice had caused curious glances to turn in their direction.

  ‘I think you’ve said quite enough, Ilona,’ Bernard spoke suddenly beside Olivia, and Ilona paled, her eyes widening with something close to fear as he continued. ‘You know as well as I do that the judges are not from Louisville and were therefore quite impartial, so accept the fact that you were beaten quite fairly. And, with regard to your other accusation, I suggest you get your facts straight before you say anything further. I have been chasing Olivia, and not the other way round. ’

  Olivia was left in no doubt that Bernard had heard every incriminating word Ilona had flung at her, piling humiliation upon humiliation and making her wish she were dead as Ilona continued her attack despite the attention she was attracting.

  ‘You’re a fool, Bernard! ’ she accused fiercely, but there were tears in her eyes, and they were tears of defeat. ‘Can’t you see what she’s aiming at? Can’t you see she’s been deceiving you all this time, pretending to be fond of Frances, and cultivating a friendship with Vivien with only one purpose in mind—to trap you into marriage?’

  Olivia felt desperately sorry for Ilona, but this final insult struck deep and, not waiting to discover whether Bernard believed Ilona’s despicable accusations, she choked back her tears and fled through the discreetly curious onlookers as she made her way towards the exit. She would have run right past Frances had the child not clutched at her skirt, halting her briefly.

  ‘Olivia, where are you going?’

  ‘I—I can’t talk now,’ she managed in an anguished voice, no longer able to prevent the tears from spilling on to her pale cheeks. ‘I m-must go.’

  ‘Olivia!’ Frances wailed anxiously, but Olivia shook off her detaining hand and took a short cut between the stalls to where

  she had parked her car.

  Brushing the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand in a slightly childish fashion, she drove towards her flat and, not bothering to garage her car, she rushed upstairs and let herself into her flat. Only then did she give way to sobs that rose in her throat, her body shaking uncontrollably as she lay weeping on the sofa with her face buried in her arms, her tears flowing until she was emotionally spent. When she eventually went through to the bathroom to bathe her face she scarcely recognised her own reflection in the mirror, and stared for a moment at the puffiness of her red-rimmed eyes, the paleness of her thin cheeks, and the bruised look about her quivering mouth.

  What did it matter what Bernard thought? she told herself fiercely. Just as long as Vivien and Frances did not believe Ilona’s vile statements. But it did matter what Bernard thought, her heart objected violently. It mattered a great deal!

  A shuddering sigh escaped her as she went through to the lounge to search for her powder compact in her handbag in order to repair some of the damage to her face, but she was too late. The outer door was flung open with a force that almost wrenched it from its hinges, and Bernard stood there, tall, broa
d, and so frighteningly masculine that her knees threatened to cave in beneath her at the sight of him.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked in a shaky voice as he closed the door gently but firmly behind him and came towards her. ‘Why aren’t you at the show grounds? The cattle auction must have started by now, and—’

  ‘The auction can go on without me this time. You’re more important to me at the moment, Olivia,’ he interrupted her with surprising calmness, but she continued to stare at him coldly and defensively.

  ‘You’ve got your priorities a little mixed, haven’t you?’

  ‘Sit down, Olivia. I want to talk to you,’ he said, taking her by the shoulders and pushing her gently on to the sofa before he seated himself beside her.

  ‘We have nothing to discuss,’ she argued stubbornly, ‘and—

  I—don’t think I could stand a post-mortem of—of the encounter with Ilona. I’ve had enough, and I’ve swallowed enough insults to last me a lifetime. I just want to be l-left alone,’ she added, and to her horror she burst into tears.

  A large white handkerchief was pushed into her hands and she wept into the expensive linen while Bernard sat quietly beside her, making no attempt to touch her, and letting her cry until the tears ceased of their own accord.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered unsteadily, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. ‘You can see now why you shouldn’t have come here.’

  ‘Ilona asked me to apologise to you for the things she said,’ he told her quietly, taking the handkerchief from her and pocketing it. ‘She’s not really as bad as she seems, and I’m actually partially to blame for what happened.’

  ‘W-What do you mean?’

  ‘Well ... ’ Bernard pushed his fingers through his hair and for the first time since she had known him he looked embarrassed. ‘I’ve known for some years that Ilona hoped I would ask her to marry me, but I couldn’t marry her when I didn’t love her, and I should have ended our friendship long ago. I just didn’t have the heart to tell her she was wasting her time.’

  Friendship, Olivia thought, her heart feeling considerably lighter. So it was only friendship between them and not an intimate understanding as Ilona had wished her to believe, but it all pointed to something she had known for some time.

  ‘Despite everything, I can’t help feeling desperately sorry for her. She really does love you in her way, so her behaviour was understandable, I suppose.’

  ‘I know,’ Bernard said a trifle impatiently as he captured her trembling hands in his, ‘but it’s not Ilona I want to discuss right at this moment. Olivia, I’ve asked you once before, but I’m going to ask you again now.’

  ‘If you’re going to ask me to marry you, then the answer is ... no!’ she said jerkily, wrenching her hands from his and jumping to her feet. How could she, after what Ilona had said, accept any

  proposal from him?

  ‘All right, I won’t ask you, but there’s something you should know,’ he said, coming up behind her where she stood at the window staring down into the almost deserted street with unseeing eyes. His hands were warm against her shoulders and she trembled as he turned her about to face him. ‘I love you.’

  Olivia went a shade paler, her heartbeats grinding to a halt before continuing at a reckless speed while she searched his rugged face for some sign of his usual mockery, but, although she found none, she still refused to believe him. ‘You’re only saying so because you overheard what Frances said the night of the braai out at your farm. ’

  His heavy eyebrows rose sharply. ‘What did Frances say?’

  ‘You know very well what she said,’ she accused, shrugging herself free of his disturbing touch and placing some distance between them. ‘You must have stood outside her bedroom door for quite some time before you came in, and that was why you asked me to marry you that night when you brought me back here.’

  His eyes flickered strangely, but there was a sincerity in his deep voice that held an undeniable ring of truth in it. ‘I can’t pretend I know what you’re talking about, but I went to look for you when you stayed away so long. I heard Frances laughing from the other end of the passage, and had a pillow thrown at me when I walked into the room. What was it that I should have heard her say?’

  ‘You—you mean you didn’t eavesdrop on our conversation?’ she asked finally, swallowing nervously.

  Bernard shook his head decisively, thrusting his hands into his pockets. ‘I think you’d better explain, don’t you?’

  ‘I can’t!’ she cried, her cheeks flaring as she shied away from having to admit the embarrassing truth, but the look of determination in his eyes made her realise that he would not give up until he knew, and she sighed tiredly. ‘Oh, very well! She said that—that she loved me and wished—and wished I was her mother. ’

  ‘Did she, the little devil?’ he grinned humorously after her halting confession, but he sobered almost instantly. ‘And you thought I asked you to marry me on the strength of that?’

  Olivia lowered her confused glance before the intensity of his gaze. ‘What else was I to think?’

  ‘Olivia, I’ve been exceedingly selfish these past few months, and have thought of no one but myself.’ His long legs covered the distance separating them in a few strides, and she was forced to look up at him when his large hands framed her face with surprising gentleness. ‘I know now that I went about it in completely the wrong way, but I love you, and I want you and need you for my own sake. Not because of Frances, and despite Vivien’s enjoyable matchmaking,’ he added with a gleam of wickedness in his eyes, but Olivia was determined not to give in without a struggle.

  ‘You called me an alien,’ she reminded him sharply, despite the happiness that flowed through her, leaving her frighteningly weak.

  ‘Yes,’ he admitted, fingering a silky auburn curl just below her ear before he slid his hands down her back and drew her against him, ‘but an alien who’s intrigued me since that evening you came out to see Frances when she was ill.’ His eyes probed hers relentlessly. ‘Am I wrong in thinking that you don’t dislike me?’

  ‘I don’t dislike you at all.’

  ‘Do you think you could care for me a little?’

  The hint of uncertainty in his voice caused the final barrier to crumble as she whispered, ‘I—I think I can do better than that.’ His chest heaved beneath her hands, and she could actually feel his heartbeats quicken as he asked in a voice that was vibrantly low, ‘Are you by any chance trying to tell me that you love me, Olivia?’

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted weakly, choking back the tears resulting from several weeks of utter despair, and the aching joy of knowing that she was truly loved, for herself, and not merely because he needed a mother for Frances.

  ‘Will you marry me?’

  For several seconds she sustained his fiery glance, allowing him to see right into her heart, then she buried her face against him. ‘Oh, Bernard,’ she whispered brokenly, releasing the floodgates for the second time since his arrival, but on this occasion Bernard’s arms tightened about her small, slim body while he comforted her in a soothing voice, murmuring words that healed the rawness inside her, and filled her with a trembling, ecstatic happiness she had never thought to experience.

  ‘You haven’t given me an answer yet, my darling,’ he reminded her as he prised her tear-stained face out into the open.

  ‘The answer couldn’t be anything else but ... yes,’ she smiled tremulously through her tears.

  ‘Do you think you could cope with an insufferable brute for a husband?’ he teased gently, brushing the tears from her cheeks with his lips.

  ‘You did say you could also be a very gentle brute,’ she whispered, experiencing his gentleness at that very moment as she inhaled the clean, male smell of him while he caressed her.

  ‘So I did,’ he replied, shaking with inward laughter before his lips found hers and parted them with a tenderness that swept through her like a flame as she reached up and pushed her fingers through his crisp, da
rk hair; something she had yearned to do for so long, but did not have the right to.

  ‘Why did you shave your beard off, Bernard?’ she asked at last when he gave her the opportunity to breathe freely again.

  He smiled then, a warmth in his glance that she knew was only for her. ‘Frances told me you didn’t particularly like a beard, and I didn’t want anything to spoil my chances with you.’

  ‘Darling!’ she laughed up at him, but the word ignited a flame of passion in his eyes that seared through her as he caught her close with a fierceness that was wholly satisfying.

  ‘Say that again,’ he demanded hoarsely.

  ‘Darling ... ’ she repeated a little more soberly, her eyes wide and luminous in the face of the overwhelming emotions she realised she was capable of awakening in him. A shudder of desire went through him and, caught in the wake of it, she murmured urgently against his lips, ‘Bernard, I love you.’

  The chime of the door-bell at that moment was an unwelcome intrusion, and Bernard muttered a soft oath beneath his breath as he released her. ‘I’ll see who it is.’

  With his arms no longer supporting her, Olivia subsided weakly into the nearest chair, her heart beating so fast that she had great difficulty in breathing properly as she heard Vivien’s anxious voice say apologetically, ‘I’m sorry if we’re interrupting, Bernard, but Frances has been terribly upset, and—’

  ‘Where’s Olivia, Daddy?’ Frances demanded impatiently, cutting across Vivien’s explanation in her anxiety. ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘See for yourself,’ said Bernard, standing aside for her to enter, and a little whirlwind flashed across the room to land heavily in Olivia’s outstretched arms.

  ‘Olivia!’ she cried, her voice muffled against Olivia’s breast.

  ‘You sounded so angry, and—and you were crying.’

  ‘I’m sorry, darling. I was being a little silly,’ Olivia whispered apologetically as she comforted her. ‘Do you forgive me?’

  Frances nodded her head against her. ‘Yes, of course, but what happened?’

  ‘It’s no longer important,’ Olivia replied, dismissing the entire, distressing incident from her mind.