South of Capricorn (21 page)

‘Kane,’ she said, and in her voice was a plea. ‘Sandra ... you must have told her that you loved her...?’ Silence. Gail’s heart was no longer light, nor were her eyes. Yet she offered no resistance when Kane once again drew her close to his breast and, lifting her face, kissed her tenderly on the lips. And then, ignoring her reference to Sandra, he said with a hint of amusement,

 ‘You haven’t asked me how I know that you love me oh, yes, I know it! I discovered it this evening when you responded so delightfully to my kisses. That’s why I could ask you to marry me; I was confident that you would answer yes.’

His words thrilled her and yet she could not fully appreciate them at this particular time.

‘Sandra,’ she murmured. ‘And Leta...?’

‘Remember those “parts unknown”?’ he asked, and, when she nodded her head, ‘you’re shortly going to know what they are.’ A glance at his watch and then, ‘I hear laughter and chatter, so it would appear that our guests are not too tired to listen to a bedtime story.

Come, my love, and we’ll see that they’re further entertained.’ Lightheartedly he kissed her, ignoring her perplexed look and slight frown of censure. ‘Patience, my child— Oh, by the way, although I do know the answer to my question I should very much like to hear it.’

She blushed adorably, and because she was sure now that there had been a great mistake regarding Kane and Sandra, she gave him the answer in soft and loving tones.

‘Yes, Kane, I will marry you,’ and she added, because she just could not help it, ‘I love you dearly...’ But her voice trailed off to silence because of his amused smile and because of her own shyness, and because her heart was really too full for words.

And so she asked no questions as, holding her by the hand, Kane took her along to the gracious lounge where some of the guests were either sitting or standing around, chatting in little groups. Others had not yet come in; they would talk for a long while yet, standing by their utilities or overlanding cars, for a party like this was always an occasion for staying out until the early hours of the morning. But eventually they would drive away, to tackle distances from fifty miles to perhaps a couple of hundred. Only those whose stations were further away than that would be staying the night.

A silence fell on the room as Kane and Gail entered, but almost immediately it was broken as one grazier after another offered thanks for the wonderful party which Kane had put on for them. But he raised a hand, as he stood there, framed in the open doorway, Gail’s hand still clasped in his strong brown fingers. It was a tense moment as the hush fell upon the room; all appeared to be arrested by their host’s expression and on each face was a look of expectancy. Gail, feeling she needed support, freed her hand and sat down in a chair not far from where Kane was standing. Her heart was beating too fast for comfort and she wished the next few minutes were over, as she was still bewildered by all that was unknown to her, bewildered because, even now, she was a tiny bit afraid of her doubts. Her eyes, like his, moved over the men and women gathered in the lovely room. The women were as well dressed as any Gail had seen, and their husbands too - these suntanned men of the wide open spaces, self-reliant and tough, good-natured and friendly. She liked them all and felt proud to think that she would soon be calling them her friends.

‘Firstly,’ began Kane, as coolly as if he was an experienced professor preparing to give a lecture to his students, ‘I must thank you all for coming, and also for your appreciation - which you have just mentioned, and which was quite unnecessary.’ He spoke graciously, sparing a swift glance for Gail. She smiled and he responded before turning his head again and looking at his guests. ‘And now,’ he continued, ‘I have a strange story to tell. It won’t take too long, my friends, but I feel that you’ll find it interesting despite its brevity.’ He paused, but not a sound was heard — and only one person moved. That was Dave. He seemed to be uncertain whether he had the right to stay or not. However, he settled down, leaning against the frame of the window and staring with interest at his employer. The story, Kane was saying, began some years previously when a man named Kenneth Farrell came to work at Vernay Downs as a rouseabout.

‘He was a tall and handsome man, but his character was not as attractive as his physical appearance. He drank heavily, spending his leaves at Cullungong, drinking until all his money was gone ...’ His voice drew to a slow stop and he glanced expressionlessly at Gail who, having given a start, had attracted his attention.

Kenneth Farrell... she was thinking. Kenneth Farrell — a rouseabout ... Already the first pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. But to her only; the rest of Kane’s audience were gazing at him with expressions of keen expectancy not unmingled with perplexity.

‘From my father,’ continued Kane in his cool efficient way, ‘I learned that this man had, since coming to work for him, discovered that he was in fact related to us, and that, two generations back, his branch of the family had lost all because of a disheritance. But, had this disheritance not occurred, this property would have been in the possession of this Kenneth Farrell, and not in the possession of my father at all. Kenneth Farrell from then on became almost vicious in his manner, refusing to take orders or, in fact, to work at all if he didn’t feel like it.’ Here Kane gave a shrug and Simon Wallis, an elderly grazier who had been a great friend of Kane’s father, interposed with the comment that this insolent and idle rouseabout would soon have been sent on his way. Kane nodded his head, saying that this was exactly what had happened.

‘But my father heard later that, even when he was working for him, this man would boast – when he’d had too much to drink, that was — that he was the owner of this station. He even assumed the name of Kane.’

‘But no one would believe him. Everyone in Cul- lungong knows both you and your father!’ This interruption came from another grazier, a younger man and a firm friend of Kane’s.

‘Not here - not anywhere in the Outback. But,’ continued Kane with a swift glance in Gail’s direction, ‘this man went to England to visit relatives. This was after he had been working on a sheep station and had obviously been able to save some money in spite of his drinking habits. You will realize that these relatives would also be my relatives - although several times removed.’ Heads nodded, but impatiently. For by now everyone was eager for the story to continue. As far as Gail was concerned it was almost completed; the pieces had fallen into place rapidly and only a few were still missing. She did not need to hear Kane’s added information that the visit of this man had taken place about five and a half years go. ‘During this holiday he met a girl named Sandra Stafford. She fell in love with him and, some months after Farrell had deserted her - coming back here on his own - this girl had a child whom she called Leta—’

‘Leta!’ The one word came as a chorus, but almost immediately a deep hush fell upon the room again, every eye turned to Gail.

‘Before I continue,’ said Kane, not without a hint of anger, ‘I want you to discard the idea that Sandra and Gail are one and the same girl.’

‘Oh...’ That spoke for itself, and Gail found herself blushing hotly.

‘About four and a half years ago a letter arrived addressed to Kane Farrell and I naturally opened it. It told of the birth of the child, and the writer - Sandra Stafford - was asking for help as she wished to keep the child rather than have it adopted or put into care.’ He stopped, for now there was an angry murmuring and he was not prepared to raise his voice.

‘You mean,’ interrupted Simon, ‘that this man had told the girl that he owned this property?’

‘That is exactly what I mean,’ Kane answered, and Gail instantly thought of her impression that Leta’s father was a boaster. Here, she thought, was another irksome little matter cleared up, for since coming here and getting to know Kane, she could not for one moment believe that he would boast of his possessions.

‘You realized that it was this man Kenneth who was the father?’ Simon put the question, a deep frown on his brown and rugged countenance.

‘Yes, I did, but as I didn’t know where the man was I tossed the letter into the waste-paper basket,’ he said, and Gail flinched. Poor Sandra!

‘Naturally you put it into the waste-paper basket! It wasn’t your affair, much as the poor girl might be suffering hardship!’ This time it was Mary Drayford who spoke. She was about Gail’s age and the wife of a station manager. ‘All the same,’ she added with a sudden frown, ‘it was a pity you didn’t know where this scoundrel was living.’

‘When the second letter arrived I did make it my business to have inquiries set afoot, and on the success of these inquiries I sent the letter on to Farrell, informing him that a previous one whose contents were similar had been destroyed by me. I heard nothing ...’ His voice trailed off as Dave made a movement with his hand. ‘Yes?’

‘Kenneth Farrell was killed by a scrub,’ came the information, falling on astounded ears. ‘It was just over three years ago - wait...’ Dave’s brow furrowed in concentration. ‘It might have been a little before that.’

Kane looked inquiringly at him.

‘How do you know this, Dave? You weren’t here when Farrell worked for my father.’

Dave, colouring slightly, asked if he might leave his answer until he could speak privately to Kane. Gail stared, had been staring since Dave’s unexpected interruption. She heard Kane say quietly,

‘Of course, Dave. Perhaps you’ll see me later tonight?’

‘If that’s what you wish.’ Dave looked away as Gail continued to stare at him interrogatingly. All the others in the room were plainly disappointed at this part of the story being denied them, but as Kane was beginning to speak again the murmurings came to a stop.

He explained that nothing more had been heard either of the girl or Farrell, but had not progressed very far when someone interrupted to ask if Farrell had married the girl.

‘It’s not possible at present to say. Gail is Sandra’s cousin and it was she who went through her things when she died. No marriage certificate was found and my own opinion is that there never was a marriage—’

‘But Sandra always maintained that there had been a marriage,’ broke in Gail impulsively, and then apologized for doing so,

‘Yes, dear, but personally I feel that she said this merely because she hated the disgrace. She never used the name Farrell either for herself or for her child, you said.’

‘Yes, that’s quite right.’ She paused. ‘Shall we ever know?’

‘That’s what we shall discuss later. There’ll be a very simple way of finding out,’ he added with a smile, and Gail lapsed once more into silence. However, within a couple of minutes she was making another interruption, asking in the same impulsive way if Kane had been in England at that particular time. Adding that he must have been away from Vernay Downs or otherwise he would not have been able to tell his friends that he was married, in England, at that particular time.

‘I was touring Europe,’ he answered briefly, and there were several murmured agreements about this.

‘You showed us your excellent slides,’ said Simon, then added, ‘I expect we all took it for granted that you’d visited England - but you didn’t, apparently?’

Kane shook his head, and then continued with his narrative, his description of the scene when he had been presented with his daughter - in front of some of his stockmen - producing hoots of laughter and cries of regret from the ladies at not being present to witness such an entertaining scene. Gail, blushing furiously, was asked how she came to have the courage and she replied unthinkingly,

‘I didn’t know him then. I was so intent on not letting him get away with it that I just marched up to him and said I’d like to present him with his daughter.’ Again there was laughter, and because of it no one seemed to bother much about Kane’s confession of what transpired later, as a result of Gail’s bringing the child to him. When some comments were eventually made they did not condemn. On the contrary, as everyone present knew what trouble he had had with his stepmother he was not blamed at all.

‘It was a splendid idea!’ exclaimed one young grazier. ‘But has it worked?’

‘No,’ came a booming female voice as Mrs. Farrell swept into the room, all her tiredness appearing to have disappeared. ‘Ertha and I have been standing outside the door and we’ve heard every word. That woman—’ she pointed to Gail, her eyes dark with fury, ‘is not staying in this house! Nor is that unmanageable brat with the unknown father—’

‘Stop!’ To everyone’s amazement it was Dave who intervened, his face white with fury. ‘Leave Leta’s name out of it, damn you!’

‘Dave,’ admonished Kane softly, ‘what on earth’s wrong with you, man?’

Everyone was stirring excitedly. Here in the Outback they were used to making their own entertainments, and each grazier would try out something novel at times. But never had an entertainment like this been presented to them!

‘Never mind him,’ snapped Mrs. Farrell, who was now supported by the presence of her daughter. ‘The story was entertaining, Kane, but the end might be disappointing both to some of your friends who haven’t said anything very complimentary about me, and to you yourself. You see,’ she added, coming close and looking up at him with a triumphant expression, ‘I am mistress here and that’s the way it stays! You can’t bring in a girl you scarcely know and put her in my place—’

‘Be quiet, Rachel,’ intervened Kane with a pained expression. ‘I’ve said before that you talk without thinking. I am the one who will tell the end of the story, not you!’ A hush descended once more at this and with a gentle little tug Kane had Gail on her feet, one hand tightly clasped in his. ‘My friends,’ he said, and now his voice was more husky than usual for he was clearly affected by emotion, ‘Gail has tonight consented to be my wife—’

‘Your wife? Bravo, Gail! It’s time he was caught!’