by Anne Hampson
Loren laughed, asking Dena what she was talking about.
‘She’ll not bother with me,’ she added, recalling with a little
sigh that she had always been looked upon as a child. At seventeen and a half Janet had been a sophisticated young lady, full of confidence and with a string of boy-friends in tow, but try as she would Loren could not acquire that kind of maturity, nor build up the confidence she knew she should
possess at her age.
‘Have you much more to do?’ Dena wanted to know, ignoring Loren’s comment. ‘I ask because the Boss tends to become irritable if he’s kept waiting, and I’ ve just heard him go downstairs.’
‘I’ve only to brush my hair.’ Loren had intended putting on some make-up — just a touch of colour on her cheeks and mouth - but she changed her mind on hearing Dena’s words. ‘It’s nice to be going out,’ she said, taking a last look in the mirror before snatching up her handbag and a pretty hand-knitted stole of fine white wool.
Thane was sitting at the wheel of the overlanding car; Dena grimaced and both girls ran down the steps.
‘Sorry,’ said Dena with that cheeky grin of hers. ‘Been waiting long?’
‘Long enough,’ drawled Thane. ‘You can both get in the front.’ The starter caught; there was a crunch of gravel and then the car shot forward at a great pace.
‘This is where you start to say your prayers.’ Dena, sitting between Thane and Loren, turned her head and Loren saw the twinkle in her eyes. Obviously she had no fears about her cousin’s driving ability. ‘And get ready to hold on to something, because if a ’roo hops into the road you’re liable to shoot right through the windscreen. ’
‘All right, Dena, that’s enough. It’s impossible to drive fast except on the Bitumen and you know it. You’ll have Loren terrified out of her wits if you go on like that.’ He turned his head, smiled without humour and added, ‘Dena drives with the brakes on — but you must have noticed that on the day she brought you to Moonrock.’ He returned his eyes to the road; Loren gave a little gasp and exclaimed,
‘ She drives with the brakes on! ’ She looked indignantly at him and his smile did then broaden to one of amusement. ‘Dena drove very fast - and she drove very well! ’
‘Outnumbered, I shall retreat gracefully.’ His tone reflected the humour of his smile and something stirred within Loren, something which hovered tantalizingly on the edge of her subconscious... vague, elusive, indefinable.
They had set out well before sundown, travelling through mile after mile of scrub and spinifex, and now the sun was dropping and the bushlands were flushed with rose and gold while the picturesque casuarinas following a dry creek bed seemed to vibrate in the metallic glow reflected by the magenta sky. A few more miles were covered and then the brief twilight began to fall, transforming the rose and gold to burnt-ochre and finally to violet, soft and eerie so that the landscape became a haunting wilderness of indeterminate shapes and dimensions. Coolibah trees and red-gums growing round the cut-off loop of the river appeared as one vast black umbrella shading the billabong.
‘It’s never quite the same,’ murmured Loren, her fascinated gaze watching the last streaks of purple melt into the gathering darkness. ‘Every single night there’s a difference in the sunset.’
‘I hadn’t noticed.’ Thane’s voice, soft and drawling. Loren did not turn her head, but she sensed that he had lifted a hand from the wheel to stifle a yawn.
‘You wouldn’t,’ put in Dena with a hint of disgust. ‘Now if there were ten thousand head of cattle running round in the sky you’d soon take notice.’
‘And so would you,’ came the swift retort, and they all laughed. ‘You mustn’t take too much notice of Dena,’ Thane advised. ‘She rambles on about the most utter nonsense. I expect she’s told you that all that interests an Australian man is cattle?’
“Yes, I have,’ returned Dena before Loren could reply. ‘And it’s absolutely true. Women are just here to keep the race going; I’ve told Loren that too.’
Thane laughed and put his foot down on reaching a better
length of road than that along which they had been travelling.
‘As they couldn’t keep the race going without us men we must have some interest in them.’
‘Oh, I admit that, but it’s a very slight interest. I told Loren that as well.’
‘You did? You appear to have been gossiping rather more than usual. Did the child blush?’ Cool tones, but fringed with humour. Loren’s small chin lifted automatically and her voice was indignant as she told him she was not a child.
‘I’m seventeen and a half,’ she added, just as if he did not know.
‘What a delightful age - for a female,’ he said, and then, quite out of the blue, ‘How old is Janet now?’ ‘Twenty-five. I expect you remember her very well.’ ‘Do I? Why should I?’
‘You took her to a dance once, and you used always to be talking to her - on your last visit, that was.’
“Yes, I suppose I did talk to her rather a lot. I wonder why? As for the dance — I didn’t take her, I merely saw her there.’
No more was said about Janet and the conversation proceeded on casual lines until, a short while after lights had appeared out of the darkness, Thane swung into a pathway and the car crunched to a standstill behind several Land-Rovers and jeeps outside the Bradon homestead. It was a two-storied colonial house, sprawling and expensively furnished, with a grand piano in the lounge and paintings hung on the walls. Everything about it spelled elegance and leisurely living; it seemed to supply the information that the only problems encountered by its owners were the traditional ones of livestock and property, problems which were in fact rather dear to the high-standing graziers of the Outback.
Laughter and chatter spilled from the open windows of the drawing-room as Thane and the two girls moved towards the verandah. Mr. and Mrs. Bradon came forward and were introduced to Loren, both looking her over with undisguised curiosity. Mr. Bradon, grey-haired and weathered, held her hand for a little too long and, flickering Dena a glance, Loren saw her lips twitch and one eyelid move almost
imperceptibly.
‘Do come inside,’ gushed Mrs. Bradon with a delicious smile for Thane, ‘everyone is so curious about your little ward. ’
‘But, Thane, you didn’t tell me over the air that she was so pretty!’ Felicity was saying a moment later, flashing Thane a dazzling smile after looking Loren over with a deprecating glance.
‘An inexcusable omission,’ in smooth tones from Thane as he turned his head to examine Loren’s face as if he were making a discovery.
‘In a youthful, girlish sort of way, of course,’ continued Felicity, by-passing Thane’s remark. ‘Yes, she’s pretty in a girlish sort of way. ’
Everyone was looking and Loren coloured, partly from embarrassment, partly from anger.
‘It would be rather extraordinary were she to be pretty in a boyish sort of way,’ returned Dena spitefully, and it was Felicity’s turn to go red. Thane’s eyes held a glint as they met those of his cousin, who merely lifted her chin in the sort of way which seemed to indicate a desire to put her tongue out at him.
‘I’ll deal with you later,’ he warned in an undertone as several other guests were being introduced to his ward. ‘Your manners leave a great deal to be desired!’
‘So they talk over the air, do they?’ Dena and Loren had found seats by the great picture window and were alone for a few minutes, drinking their iced lemonade. ‘I wonder what they talk about?’ Her mouth was tight, her gaze on Thane’s tall figure as he stood talking to Felicity, who had her hand resting on his sleeve in an intimate kind of way. ‘If those two should get together it would mean that I should be out.’
Loren frowned.
‘He wouldn’t marry anyone like her - calling me youthful and girlish!’
Diverted for a space, Dena laughed.
‘She spoke the truth; you are youthful, but it was the way she said it. She’s always like that; no
tact, and no nous either, or she’d realize just how rude she is.’ Picking up her glass, Dena took a drink, her expression thoughtful and faintly scowling. ‘There’s no knowing what he might do to best Gran Amelia. They had a big row the other day -- but I expect you know all about it?’ And when Loren shook her head Dena went on to explain that it had arisen because Thane had told her he intended sacking Cooper. But the stockman had worked for Thane’s father, having been originally engaged by Gran Amelia. ‘She told Thane in no uncertain terms that Cooper stays, reminding her grandson once again that she was mistress of Moonrock.’
‘But surely Thane has the last word?’
‘Certainly he has, but Gran Amelia threw one of her “turns” and Thane had no option than to shut up. He could hardly do anything else with her lying back in her chair, panting and blowing and accusing him of trying to kill her. ’
‘Is she really all that ill?’
‘Ill? She’s only ill when someone crosses her. As I’ve told you, the doctor says she’ll live to be a hundred. She’s told Thane many a time that the worst thing she ever did was to make the station over to his father. It isn’t as if she’s not perfectly capable of running the place herself, she always says. They’re too much alike - Gran Amelia and Thane - and they’ll scrap right to the end, unless....’ Again Dena’s eyes strayed to her cousin. He and Felicity were laughing together, with Mr. Bradon watching them covertly as he stood with some of his friends close by, ‘She’ll lead him a dance if he’s fool enough to marry her! ’
‘I don’t think Thane would marry for that reason,’ said Loren with confidence.
‘He might be driven to it in the end, because he knows that Gran Amelia will only step down when he brings a wife to Moonrock. ’
‘Well, I do hope he doesn’t choose her, because I myself won’t feel very comfortable if she comes to live with us.’ Several young people entered the already crowded room, having just arrived. They were given drinks, and as a friend of Thane’s went over to join him and Felicity, she moved
away to join the newcomers, most of whom were of the recognizable type, being young stylish offshoots of the older generation of squatocracy. The girls, perfectly groomed and well-spoken, wore expensive sweaters and tweed skirts or modish suits, while the men, bronzed and tall, wore lightweight linen jackets and slacks and perpetual smiles to match their rather arrogant air of easy assurance.
When all the guests had arrived they trooped out to where the gins and their husbands were ready to serve the food they had prepared. It was a gay gathering and Loren was thoroughly enjoying herself. Thane was by her side, and as she gazed around she saw that Dena was with a good-looking young man with whom she appeared to be getting along famously.
‘An old friend,’ Thane observed, following the direction of Loren’s gaze. “Name of Ian Radnor; they went to the same school in Perth. Ian’s over here on a visit to a pal of his who has bought a small station a few miles from here—’ Thane broke off, looking round. ‘Can’t see the young man, but he’s somewhere about. He was most interested in you,’ he added with a hint of amusement. ‘I decided it would be good for him to learn that you can’t marry without my permission.’
‘You!’ Loren lifted her head and stared. ‘You told him that?’
‘Advisable, seeing he was so very interested. I can’t be bothered getting rid of ambitious young cubs; I’ve enough problems on my hands.’
‘Well!’ Loren was bereft of speech for a space, and then, indignantly, ‘I supposed I’d at least be allowed to choose my own friends!’
‘At least?’ One dark eyebrow rose a fraction. ‘What a wealth of meaning’s contained in that remark. As for Colin Melton, the English optimist who’s taken on the land that’s already driven two previous owners back to Sydney, he isn’t the kind of young man I wish you to cultivate.’
“Why?’ she asked shortly, trying to remember this Colin but finding it impossible to pick out his face from the dozen or so young men to whom she had been introduced. ‘What
have you against him?’
‘Nothing alarming. But as I’m your guardian and protector I must guard against your becoming attached to a man who can provide you with little except work. ’
Loren fell silent, finding nothing to say to that owing to the genuineness of her guardian’s sentiments. He was doing only what her uncle had expected him to do. However, after a while she did decide to ask,
‘What makes you think I might become attached to him?’ Thane looked down at her and smiled faintly.
‘He’s rather more than ordinarily attractive - or so I’m told by Felicity, though I didn’t notice myself. And you, my dear, must be finding life a little dull by now. All the young Englishwomen do; they miss the bright lights and the dance halls and of course the company of people like themselves.’
‘ Stew and Prof keep telling me this, but in fact I love it here. In any case, I didn’t go dancing because I was still at school.’
‘Don’t schoolgirls go dancing?’
‘Well, yes,’ she admitted. ‘But I never did. I liked being at home with my aunt and uncle....’ Troublesome memories brought a break to her voice and quite unexpectedly Thane’s hand dropped on to her shoulder. She felt its warmth through her thin dress and with a little shock of surprise found that she liked it. The only affection she could remember having had had come from her aunt and uncle and on losing them she had felt utterly lost. The prospect of coming to live with Thane had only added to her unhappiness since the only thing that stood out in her memory of him was that spanking he had so ruthlessly given her, in front of all those amused people at the party. She had been a long while getting over it, and during that period her dislike of him increased until she actually believed she hated him. But on her arrival at Moonrock she had soon discovered that she did not hate him; she merely felt indifferent towards him, although she treated him with the utmost respect, not only because he was her appointed guardian but because Thane was a man who naturally commanded respect. Now, sitting with him on a small bench eating barbecued lamb, she found herself seeing him in an altogether new light, experiencing an odd quality of pleasure at his touch, and the close proximity of him, and she would have liked to lean her face against his coat and derive comfort from him and discover his reactions to so intimate a gesture. But of course she refrained, and as more food was being handed round he drew away, and shortly afterwards the movies began, the projector and amplifiers having been set up and chairs arranged on the lawn. Mr. and Mrs. Bradon and their guests occupied the front seats, with the white stockmen behind. Right at the back stood the Aboriginal stockmen, men of fine physique, proud and enigmatic and possessing an undeniable dignity of bearing which was enormously attractive.
The film show came to an end at ten o’clock and after a final drink the guests who were not staying the night began to leave. Thane’s car slid on to the moonlit track and within minutes they were enveloped in utter nocturnal peace, soft and absolute, travelling through a romantic faraway landscape, luminous yet awesome in its solitude and immensity. No moving thing in all the vast wilderness except the car, its flaring headlights capturing the native herbage -cassias and she-oaks and tussocks of spinifex grass. Ghost gums shone, pure white, their sloughed skins curling delightfully, and from a long way off, through the silent brooding darkness the vague half-discernible flanks of distant residuals rose like giants against the blue-black sky.
‘Is Loren asleep?’ Thane and Dena had been chatting as he drove along. Content to listen, Loren had gradually become more and more tired, her eyelids beginning to droop and her head falling forward.
‘No,’ she murmured as Dena turned her head to look at her. ‘No. ... ’ Loren groped through the mist of tiredness for something to add to that. ‘But I almost am.’
Thane laughed and said she should have sat in the middle and then she could have gone to sleep on his shoulder, and suddenly Loren was groping in a very different way, reaching out to grasp some elusive emotion and
willing it to become palpable. But she was too tired to think, let alone concentrate on something which tantalizingly hovered quite beyond her reach. In imagination, though, she rested her head on Thane’s shoulder and the result was a pleasant fusing of warmth through her body and a tingling of her nerves, spreading an excitement she had never before experienced.
‘You must lie in tomorrow,’ Thane was saying, himself stifling a yawn. He had done some hard riding that day, over the bush with his men, mustering cattle for branding.
‘And I?’ rather tartly from Dena, who was quite resigned to his answer.
‘You? Lie in, you mean?’ Thane’s voice reflected his frown. ‘You’ve work to do.’
‘It’s possible that I get tired, just like anyone else,’ she retorted. ‘God help your wife, Thane, if ever any woman should be misguided enough to marry you! ’
‘Let’s keep to the point, shall we? - and leave my unpredictable future out of it. If you want to rest in the morning then do so by all means, if it will restore your good humour -which reminds me,’ he added in an altered tone, sharp-edged and crisp, ‘what did you mean by snubbing Felicity? We were her parents’ guests, you know.’
‘I don’t like the girl,’ flashed Dena, and immediately Thane asked her why. ‘She fawns too much for my liking.’ ‘Fawns? What exactly does that mean?’
‘She’s always after attention - from the men, of course.’ “You were receiving a bit of attention yourself,’ Thane commented drily.
‘Ian? I was delighted to see him; didn’t know he was a friend of Colin Melton. It’s nice to run across old friends. I never expected to see him here.’
‘Is he staying long?’
‘He came for a holiday, but also to look over the station. Colin’s asked him to go into partnership with him. ’