Substitute Bride

by Angela Devine

  ‘Yes, I can.’

  ‘Well, we’ll go down to the firm sand near the water’s edge and you can try trotting. That’s always a bit tricky the first time.’

  I bet I’ll master it, thought Laura to herself. She was rather pleased with the way she was getting used to the horse’s gait, and was in an optimistic mood that made her feel ready to conquer the world. As they reached the water’s edge, and the white foam washed in eddies around the horses’ hooves, she listened impatiently to James’s instructions.

  ‘Try and go with the motion of the horse. It’s called rising to the trot. If you stand up in the stirrups, you might find it easier. Watch what I’m doing and imitate it.’

  He kicked the gelding’s flanks and they moved off together in a precise, fluid motion that looked perfectly easy to Laura until without warning her mare took off as well. Suddenly Laura felt herself being jolted up and down like a sack of potatoes while simultaneously being pounded violently in the most uncomfortable places. With a startled shriek she lost one of her stirrups, and in trying to slip her foot back into it lost her hold on the reins as well.

  ‘Stop! Stop!’ she begged, clutching at the horse’s mane and watching the sand jolt blurrily beneath her. Would it hurt much if she fell off? ‘S-t-o-p, you awful beast!’

  A moment later James had wheeled round and was cantering back to rescue her. In a few effortless movements, he halted the mare, restored the reins to Laura, found her dangling stirrup and thrust her foot into it. There was no mistaking the gleam of amusement in his eyes.

  ‘I’m hopeless, aren’t I?’ she wailed in embarrassment.

  For an instant his hand lingered on her ankle, then he straightened up in the saddle and gave her a look that made her feel more flustered than ever.

  ‘No, you’re infuriating and hard to fathom,’ he said in measured tones. ‘But I wouldn’t say you were hopeless.’

  Laura had little time to wonder about his meaning during the next half-hour as James worked ruthlessly on her riding skills. By the end of that time she had experienced every emotion from utter frustration to sheer, gibbering terror, but she had also had two or three exhilarating tastes of success, when the tricky rhythm had come to her by magic, only to be lost again.

  ‘All right,’ said James at last. ‘I think you’ve earned a cup of coffee.’

  Her face fell.

  ‘Do we have to stop now? I’m just starting to get the hang of it and I don’t want to go back to the house yet.’

  ‘If you don’t stop now, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow,’ he warned. ‘But we needn’t go back to the house just yet if you don’t want to. There’s a nice little spot about half a mile away where I can build a fire and make some coffee. From now on we’ll just walk the horses.’

  Glowing with pride and the invigorating effects of the sea breeze, Laura turned her horse obediently in pursuit of James. This time they did not go back the way they had come, but instead took a dirt road which led off towards a headland. It was flanked by an avenue of massive pine trees whose huge branches met overhead, making the space beneath them as hushed and shadowy as the interior of a cathedral. Laura craned her neck back to look at them and sniffed appreciatively at the pine-scented air.

  ‘What beautiful trees!’ she exclaimed. ‘They look as if they’ve been here for centuries.’

  ‘That’s just about right. My great-great-great-grandfather planted them in 1837.’

  ‘You mean your tie with the land goes back that far? That’s a tremendous privilege.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ he said tersely. ‘There are also times when it’s a tremendous burden.’

  He didn’t explain what he meant, and she didn’t ask him, but once again she had the uncomfortable suspicion that he was talking about his ex-wife. Before long the road came to an end in a semi-circle of gravel in front of an old-fashioned octagonal summer house, complete with a slate roof, iron lace trim and a weathercock on the summit. Laura stared at it in delight.

  ‘Isn’t it beautiful? Does that date back to 1837 too?’

  ‘The original building does, but it’s been repaired so many times there can’t be much of that left. We often have barbecues here in the summer. There’s plenty of firewood and the creek’s handy for running water.’

  He jerked his head in the direction of a clump of trees behind the summer house and Laura caught a glimpse of clear sparkling water rushing over a rocky bed. While she was still gazing at it, entranced, he dismounted and walked across to the summer house.

  Laura attempted to follow, but as she swung her right leg over the horse’s back and scrambled to the ground something strange happened.

  ‘Whoa!’ she exclaimed. ‘My legs have just turned to rubber.’

  ‘Do you want me to carry you?’ James offered, turning back to look at her with a sardonic smile.

  Did she? In the world of her fantasies the offer would have been irresistible. But here, surrounded by the reality of being alone with him in the bush, it was entirely too disturbing for Laura’s comfort. She shook her head.

  ‘No, thanks,’ she said with a grimace. ‘I’ll just crawl, I think. Have you got somewhere quiet where 1 can lie down and die?’

  ‘Try the picnic table next to the barbecue,’ suggested James. ‘I’ll just tie up the horses, then make a fire and some coffee. Perhaps that will revive you.’

  Every bone in Laura’s body ached as if it had been broken, and her muscles seemed to have been wrenched permanently out of shape, but it was pleasant to sit at the wooden table and watch James as he got the fire going. First he brought some small sticks and newspapers from inside the summer house and made a pyramid of wood and crumpled paper. When that was blazing brightly with orange flames, he started to add larger pieces of dry wood from a stack sheltered by the brick overhang of the barbecue. Then he brought out an old iron kettle from the summer house, filled it from the creek and set it to boil on the grid. Last of all he produced mugs from the summer house, and a jar of coffee and a screw-top bottle of milk from his saddlebag.

  ‘You’re very efficient,’ said Laura admiringly.

  ‘My mother taught me to be at an early age.’

  ‘Is she still alive?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I didn’t meet her at the wedding.’

  ‘She didn’t come. Sam’s father Adrian is only my halfbrother from my father’s first marriage, so my mother isn’t actually related to Sam at all. When my father died, she moved back to America, which is where she originally came from. These days she doesn’t move out of Pennsylvania much. In fact, I don’t think she even moves out of the local shopping mall. There was an unconfirmed sighting in Hawaii in December last year, when Wendy swears she saw her at a linen sale in a big department store, but I think it was just a delusion.’

  Laura smiled.

  ‘How did she meet your father? Did their eyes meet across a crowded check-out counter?’

  James shook his head.

  ‘No. She wasn’t a shopaholic thirty-eight years ago. He met her on a Caribbean cruise not long after his first wife died. Heaven knows what she saw in him. He was twenty years older than her and a widower with a child into the bargain. Still, I’ve got to admit that he could be charming if you didn’t know him well.’

  ‘Ouch,’ winced Laura. ‘That sounds as if you didn’t like him much.’

  James tossed another chunk of wood on the fire and scowled thoughtfully.

  ‘We didn’t really get along,’ he admitted.

  ‘What went wrong?’

  ‘Right from the start he was the kind of man that had to be in control of everything, and nobody could do things as well as he could, so he was always incredibly critical. Wendy just thumbed her nose at him, but for some stupid reason I always wanted to please him. Then when I was nineteen we had a massive quarrel.’

  ‘What about?’

  Suddenly James’s eyes looked veiled and opaque. He shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Oh, just a difference of
opinion on how I should live my life. He wanted me to go to Harvard to do a business degree, and I didn’t want to go. So I didn’t. I left home instead and became a deckhand on a tuna boat.’

  A series of expressions flitted across his face as he spoke, like shadows chasing across a landscape. Laura had the impression that there was a lot more that he wasn’t telling her, but she didn’t feel brave enough to ask him outright for more detail. Instead she approached the subject obliquely.

  ‘Did you ever patch it up?’

  ‘After a fashion, we did. So much so that I moved back to Tasmania and took over managing this property when he was in his last illness.’

  ‘Were you living somewhere else by then?’ she asked in surprise.

  Somehow James seemed to belong so completely on this unspoilt island that she could not imagine him anywhere else.

  ‘Yes, I was in California,’ he said. ‘I’d started a transport company there and was doing very well.’

  He turned away to deal with the coffee and the conversation lapsed. But later, when they were sipping from their fragrant, steaming mugs, Laura raised the topic again.

  ‘Were you sorry to leave California?’

  James sighed.

  ‘Yes and no. I liked the excitement of the place, and the thrill of power and achievement that came from being successful there, but other aspects of life in the fast lane didn’t appeal to me. In the end I had to make a choice about what was most important. My father had had a stroke and was past managing the farm, and my mother didn’t have the skills to run it. He threatened to sell the place if I didn’t take over. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but I came home to visit him, expecting that he’d be changed by his illness and treat me like the long-lost beloved son.’

  ‘And did he?’

  James gave a harsh growl of laughter.

  ‘No, he most certainly did not! He was the same cantankerous old cuss as ever. Full of criticism about everything I’d done since I’d seen him last. I was so desperate to get away from him before I punched him in the nose that I came out here for a ride. That was a mistake.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because once I saw this avenue of pine trees and the little summer house at the end, I knew I could never give it up to anybody else. I knew I belonged here.’

  She nodded thoughtfully. If she had known him better she would have reached out and gripped his hand.

  ‘Do you ever go back to California?’

  ‘Yes, two or three times a year. I still have business interests there. I travel to Europe and South East Asia too, but this is my home.’

  ‘Was your father grateful when you gave up everything to come back here?’ she asked.

  ‘If he was, he didn’t show it. To his dying day he picked and carped about everything I did. But the funny thing is, he left everything in his will to me, which meant a lot to me. Not because of the money—I’ve made ten times as much as that myself—but because of the hidden message. I felt he was telling me that he could trust me to handle everything he owned and do the right thing by everyone. Yes, I suppose you could say we patched it up.’

  ‘That’s a really sad story,’ murmured Laura.

  ‘No, it isn’t! It’s a very common story. People choose what they want to do and live with the consequences. That’s what I did and I’ve got no complaints. Now, come on, it’s time we were heading back.’

  Ten minutes later they were moving sedately back along the beach when they saw another horse cantering towards them. As it drew closer Laura noticed that the rider wore jodhpurs, polished boots, a hacking jacket and a neat velvet riding cap. She sat gracefully upright in the saddle and moved as if she and the horse were a single entity. Raising her riding crop in greeting, she called to them as she came splashing through the shallows towards them.

  ‘Hello, James! I’ve got something important I want to discuss with you.’

  James’s features took on a keen, interested expression, and he urged his horse forward.

  ‘What is it, Sue?’ he asked.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SUE let her chestnut horse dance skittishly around in the foam for a moment before she answered. Laura had the unworthy suspicion that she only did this so that she could display her slim legs and the skill with which she brought the snorting animal under control. All her own good humour drained away as she watched the other woman lean forward and address James confidingly, without even acknowledging her presence.

  ‘I’ve got a copy of the shopping centre plan and it’s just as bad as we feared. They want to put it smack bang in the middle of the village and tear down six beautiful old houses to do it. Not only that, but that avenue of hundred-and-fifty-year-old oak trees would have to go.’

  James included Laura in the conversation by means of an apologetic glance.

  ‘You remember Sue from the wedding, don’t you? She’s been spearheading a campaign against architectural vandalism in the village. A development company is hoping to put in a supermarket complex which will wreck a really beautiful area if it’s allowed to go ahead. Not that I’m against development, but that’s definitely the wrong site for it. Can I come and look at the plans, Sue?’

  ‘Of course. The sooner the better.’

  ‘We’ll come now, if you like,’ offered James. ‘We can put the horses in your back paddock and Laura can sit and put her feet up while we sort this out.’

  Sue’s green eyes narrowed.

  ‘Oh, I don’t think Laura would be interested,’ she said swiftly. ‘It’s only a local matter, after all. Why don’t you come back this evening and see them properly? I’m sure Laura wouldn’t mind staying at your house and watching a video or something.’

  ‘Well—’ began Laura.

  ‘No, it’s better to get it done now,’ cut in James. ‘I want to see my lawyers in Hobart tomorrow, and there’s no point doing that until I’ve had a good look at the plans. Besides, I’m sure Laura would like to see your house.’

  Sue’s smile was tight-lipped.

  ‘All right,’ she agreed ungraciously.

  Sue’s house proved to be one of the old sandstone buildings in a quiet street only a short distance from the proposed development, with an acre of lush green gardens, a paddock and stone stables behind it. When they had tied up the horses, Sue led them into a pinelined kitchen, where sunlight splashed in through tall windows divided into numerous tiny panes of glass. Waving them towards a table and chairs of Huon pine, she switched on the electric jug and lifted down an old-fashioned tin.

  ‘You will have some coffee, won’t you?’

  ‘We’ve already had some, but I’d be glad of another cup,’ said James. ‘What about you, Laura?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ cried Sue, lifting the lid of the tin and pulling a comical face. ‘It looks as though I’m out of your Arabica, James. I’ll have to give you Kenyan instead. But we have got some of those hazelnut wafers you like. Try one, Laura, they’re nine million calories a bite, but utterly yummy. Fortunately I don’t have to worry about my figure, since I’m naturally slim.’

  She accompanied this statement with a smug sidelong glance at Laura’s thighs that made her feel like the Michelin tyre man. Laura felt an unexpected flare of annoyance, and hit back without pausing to think.

  ‘Isn’t it funny,’ she murmured as Sue set the plate of biscuits on the table, ‘how the concept of the ideal shape of a woman has changed so much? During most of history, thin women were considered freaks and were thought very unattractive. As a matter of fact, I think most men still secretly believe that. You’re lucky you were born when you were, Sue.’

  The other girl forced a laugh, but the tension in the air was as oppressive as if a thunderstorm were brewing. James cleared his throat diplomatically.

  ‘What about the plans?’ he reminded Sue.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she said, wiping her hands on her jodhpurs and casting Laura a poisonous glance. ‘I’ve left them in my bedroom. I’ll go and get t
hem.’ She returned a moment later with a blueprint in one hand and a large striped blue T-shirt in the other. ‘By the way, is this yours?’

  James peered at it and gave a surprised laugh.

  ‘Yes, I think it is. Thanks very much. I must have left it here last time I came.’

  ‘You ought to be careful where you take your clothes off, darling,’ said Sue in a sultry voice.

  James opened his mouth as if to speak, and evidently thought better of it. Spreading out the plans, he anchored them with some crockery and began scowling thoughtfully at them.

  Laura watched them both with a miserable feeling of resentment as all her old distrust of Sam’s uncle came flooding back. She hated the smug way that Sue was hovering over the coffee percolator and occasionally casting proprietorial glances at James, she hated the way he was looking through the plans with total absorption, as if nothing was wrong, and most of all she hated herself for being upset by it.

  When the coffee was finally made, James plunged into a complicated discussion with Sue about the supermarket development and Laura was left feeling that she was invisible, inaudible and totally unimportant. She fumed in silence until he suddenly turned and smiled at her.

  ‘Sorry, Laura,’ he exclaimed. ‘We’ve no manners at all. Let’s talk about something else. Did I tell you Sam phoned last night to say they’ve reached Singapore safely and are going on to Europe next week for the rest of their honeymoon?’

  ‘Oh, really?’ said Laura frostily. ‘How interesting.’

  Sue made no attempt to hide her amusement at Laura’s discomfiture and she soon made another bid to flaunt her involvement with James. Laying her hand on his arm, she smiled winningly at him.

  ‘Are you going to take me to the Rotary Ball next month?’ she demanded.

  James frowned.

  ‘Won’t Jack be home by then?’

  ‘The only place I want to see Jack again is in a divorce court!’ she retorted bitterly.

  ‘Sue!’ James’s voice was stern. ‘That’s something we should discuss in private, and I’ll be happy to do so, but this is neither the time nor the place for it.’