The Blue Mountains of Kabuta (18 page)

BOOK: The Blue Mountains of Kabuta
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‘Good-oh.' She tried to laugh, but she felt a little shaken and sick. She wondered why, for she was not subject to car-sickness. She only hoped she was not getting the strange 'flu bug that seemed to be going round the district.

The tarred road was smooth and the jerking and swaying lessened though their speed increased, but at last they reached Qwaleni.

The Prince Inn was on the slope of a hill with a grand view over the valley where electric lights flickered and shone against the black background. There was even a moon to shine a swathe of light over the clusters of
trees
and the narrow river that swerved past the houses. The Inn was modern and immensely popular, judging by the many parked cars.

They walked through the foyer towards the restaurant. The tables were grouped round the dance floor and a small band playing. Tim's hand was on her arm, his fingers pressing into her skin in time to the beat. ‘Looks rather smart.'

Suddenly Jon stiffened. She couldn't believe it. Yet it was true. All her past fears were proving right.

Dancing on the floor was Alex. And in his arms, laughing up at him, was her mother!

Jon stopped dead so that Tim bumped into her. ‘Steady on! What's wrong?'

‘I . . . I feel sick . . .' Jon gasped, looking round for the cloakroom. I won't be a mo . . .' she muttered, and almost ran.

Alone, she stood still and gradually the nausea seemed to float away. She must surely be getting that ‘flu bug, she told herself.

Had Alex seen her? And if he had, did it matter? But why all the secrecy? Why hadn't her mother said she was dining out with Alex? Why . . . why . . . ?

But she had no right to ask these questions, she knew. Her mother had the same right to live her own life without questions as Jon had often felt she had, when they lived in England.

Nor had she any right to feel hurt because
Alex
had not asked her to join them. So often in the past, he had said:

‘You don't mind a blind date, little Jon? I'm arranging a party', and she had refused, finding some stupid excuse. And why? Because she wanted no ‘blind date' but to dance with Alex, and he had no desire to dance with her!

All the same, it was no wonder he had stopped inviting her out, was it?

She went back to the hall where Tim was sitting on a couch, a glass in his hand. He beckoned to her and she went and sat by him. It was a lofty hall with pillars and frescoes on the walls They were out of sight of the restaurant, so there was little danger of Alex seeing them.

‘What happened?'

‘I felt sick.'

‘Come on suddenly?' he asked.

‘I didn't feel too good in the car.'

He put his hand on hers. ‘Silly girl,' he said gently. ‘You should have told me. We needn't have come all this way.'

‘I think it must be 'flu.'

‘You don't want to dine here?'

She turned to him appealingly. ‘No, please, Tim, no.' Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘But the Oswalds are dining here.'

‘They'd understand. It's very hot and noisy. We'll go to the Karrafin.'

When they went outside, there was a distant rumble and suddenly a vivid flash of fork
lightning
in the distance.

‘Looks like a storm,' Jon said.

The Karrafin was much quieter and cooler. After a quick meal, Tim drove her home much more slowly. The rumbles of thunder were much closer, often crashing overhead as the great dark sky was rent with jagged flashes.

At home, the dogs welcomed them noisily.

‘How about a cup of coffee?' Tim asked.

‘I'll get it,' said Jon, letting the dogs out in the garden where they raced in circles, leaping in the air as they barked madly, but they soon came back to curl up at Jon's feet.

Jon had just finished her coffee when Tim said:

‘Why do you hate Alex Roe so much?'

‘H-hate him?'

‘Yes. He was there tonight. That's what upset you. Why?'

‘I don't hate him, but . . . but, well, he makes me mad. He will treat me as a child and he never stops teasing me. I hate sarcastic men, too.'

Tim grinned. ‘Memo: Jon dislikes being teased. You never mind when I tease you.'

‘That's different.' So very different, she thought, because I'm not in love with you. ‘Alex seems to delight in making me feel small or humiliated.'

Tim had a strange expression on his face. ‘Jon, it's tricky for me and that's why I've said nothing, because I thought you and your mum
were
fond of Alex, so . . . Well, look, has he made you an offer for the farm, Jon? I heard a rumour, but . . .'

There was a startlingly white flash of lightning together with a terrific clap of thunder and then there was a dark silence.

Jon shivered, remembering how this had happened before, and how touched she had been by Alex's kindness only to discover that he had spent the night in the house to save himself from getting wet on the way home.

‘Not an offer, but he does want the farm,' Jon said stiffly.

‘Why? Does he give a reason?'

‘He wants to enlarge his sanctuary, Tim.'

Tim grunted. ‘That's a lie, make no mistake. Do you want the truth?'

‘The truth?' Her voice was unsteady.

‘Yes, the truth. Has he told you that they plan to build a dam and that, if so, this farm will be under water?'

Jon sat up, horrified. ‘I didn't know. He didn't say. It can't be true! My farm?'

‘Of course he didn't tell you, Jon. That would give the game away, wouldn't it? When the dam is built, you'll be given good compensation, a far higher sum than you'd get for the farm. That's why he wants to buy it. All he thinks of is money.'

‘A dam . . .' she repeated slowly. Had Uncle Ned known? she wondered. Was that why he wouldn't sell it? But that didn't make sense,
because
he had told her in that secret letter that she could sell the farm, but not to Alex. Was it because he had found Alex trying to cheat him?

Alex? Cheating? She found it hard to believe.

‘Alex isn't like that . . .' she began.

‘That's what you think. How is it we're losing all our good labour? I didn't tell you, but more and more of them are walking out on us, and do you know why?'

Her mouth was dry. ‘No.'

‘Because Alex is paying them more than you can afford,' Tim said, almost triumphantly. ‘He's sabotaging you, Jon. He's just determined to make you sell out to him.'

‘That I never will!'

‘He'll make you. He's utterly ruthless.' Tim stood up. ‘Time for beddybyes.' He yawned and then looked down at her. ‘Don't look so shocked. Alex is just a man. None of us are perfect.'

Lying in bed, Jon felt bewildered. Tim had seemed so sure that what he said was true. Some of it made sense. That could explain Uncle Ned's insistence that she must not sell to Alex. Yet how could she believe that Alex was planning to cheat her? How could you think that of the man you love?

Jon was asleep when her mother came home and when she awoke it was pouring with rain, so there was no walk for the dogs. She
stood
with them on the stoep, looking at the rain as it pelted down from the grey cloud-massed sky, watching the water churn up the earth, drowning her precious seedlings, beating down the dahlias that were doing so well.

‘What happened to you, last night, darling?' her mother said, startling her.

Jon swung round. ‘What d'you mean?'

Her mother yawned. ‘Alex saw you come into the restaurant and then you vanished. I thought you were going to the Oswalds. I'd told Alex so.'

‘We were . . .' Jon was thinking quickly. What had Alex said? ‘We were late getting there and they'd left us a message that Mark had to go to Qwaleni on business and if we liked, join them at the Prince Inn.'

‘They were there. They joined the party.'

‘The . . . the party?'

Her mother yawned again. ‘It was great fun. Caroline and her husband, Madeleine and Alex, and we asked the Colonel, too. Alex wanted to ask you, but I knew you'd accepted the Oswalds' invitation, so I told him so.'

Jon stared at her mother. What a stupid idiot she had been, she told herself. But was it true? Or was her mother saying it to hide the fact that she had been alone with Alex? But if she had, did it matter? Why should her mother have to lie? It could only be the truth.

‘Why didn't you come and join us when you
saw
us, Jon? It was very rude. Alex seemed annoyed. What happened? He said you nearly fell over and that it was a good thing Tim had his arm round you, and then you vanished.'

Jon drew a deep breath. ‘I felt ill. Tim drives fast and the road was rough and . . .'

‘You poor darling. Where did you go?'

‘It seemed so hot and noisy, so Tim took me to the Karrafin. It's cool and quieter.'

‘I know. I often dine there with . . .'

Tim came up the steps, looking miserable, rain trickling down his face as he pulled off his thin yellow mackintosh.

‘Hello. What a downpour! What time did you folks get home?'

‘We didn't leave until nearly one and by then the worst of the storm was over.' The little bell rang. ‘Good, breakfast. I'm hungry for once!'

Jon wasn't, but she managed to behave normally.

Halfway through the morning, Ursula was on the phone, talking, laughing, and Jon was alone on the stoep when she saw Alex, riding his big black horse. She stood up, meaning to escape, but he had seen her and lifted his hand in greeting.

He came up the steps, and she looked at him steadily. Was Tim right and could Alex be trying to cheat her? Maybe if she could make herself believe it, then she could stop loving him.

He
kicked off his muddy boots. ‘How are you feeling?' he asked. ‘Your mother phoned to explain your extraordinary behaviour last night,' he said coldly.

‘I thought I was getting the 'flu.'

‘I see. You're sure it wasn't because you preferred to be alone with your manager?' The hint of sarcasm in his voice as he said the last word angered Jon immediately.

‘We planned to meet the Oswalds there, but I felt ill. Tim thought it was too hot and noisy, so we . . .'

‘Went to the Karrafin. A charming romantic little place. I trust you enjoyed yourselves,' he said, his sarcasm even more obvious.

‘I . . . I felt ill,' she repeated.

Alex's rugged ugly-handsome face was grave.

‘I suppose you do know what you're doing?'

‘What I'm doing?' Jon was startled.

‘You know very well what I mean. You may be naïve and young, but not as much as that! The local gossips are having a wonderful time. You realize that you're never seen without your bachelor manager? How long, they say, will he remain one?'

‘One?'

Alex frowned. A bachelor.'

Suddenly she was angry again. ‘Alex, I didn't think you listened to gossip. Or has Madeleine been talking? That was what she said at the beginning. She told me I had asked for a
bachelor
as I needed a husband. Well, I didn't and I don't . . .' She had to stop speaking because she was breathless.

‘But does Tim know that? He calls you darling, putting his arm round you, and I've seen him kissing you.'

‘Kissing me?' Jon began, then burst out laughing: ‘Oh, that! The plane startled me and I fell in his arms.'

‘How convenient for him—or should I say, for you?' Alex asked coldly.

‘Alex, don't be absurd. He was only joking.'

‘Since when was kissing a form of joking? It sounds very strange to me.'

‘Alex, you're so square. You should have lived in the Victorian age. What's a kiss?'

He moved closer to her. ‘If you don't know, it's time you did,' he said roughly, seizing her shoulders and jerking her towards him, leaning down and pressing his mouth hard against hers.

It was a kiss without love. A rough, cruel kiss, and yet . . . She jerked herself free.

‘If that's what you call a kiss, I think it's hateful!' she said wildly, turning to the house door and almost stumbling through, but Alex's hand caught and held her still while she kept her face turned away.

‘One other thing, little Jon,' he said angrily. ‘Where the hell is your precious manager? The irrigation ditch is flooding, which means one of the drains is blocked. It's his job to clear them,
not
mine, but if he doesn't get cracking soon, there may be big trouble.'

‘He's . . . he's in the office,' Jon said, and his hand let go her arm. She shivered, missing the touch of his hot fingers, and then she was free, free to run to her bedroom, and to pass her mother who had just stopped phoning.

‘Jon darling, is something wrong?' she asked.

‘Just a headache,' Jon said, and escaped to her bedroom.

She stood very still after she had locked the door. She hadn't known what a real kiss was like before. But now she did!

CHAPTER NINE

Christmas came and Jon learned to laugh, to appear gay and hide the misery inside her. There were plenty of braaivleis and cocktail parties, and Tim insisted that she went to them all. He was always close by her side, his hand under her arm and always ready to take her home early if she asked him to.

Christmas Day came with the present-giving, and then a car came to fetch Jon's mother. Jon was rather surprised to see the elderly man with white hair, glasses and a friendly smile.

‘Jon dear, this is Colonel Harding,' Ursula
said.
‘He's teaching me bridge.'

‘I have a good pupil,' he said with a smile.

‘A good pupil depends on a good teacher. Have a lovely time, Jon darling,' Ursula said with a farewell kiss.

Jon found herself enjoying Christmas Day, as it was hot and they all went to the Club to swim in the pool. The two men went off to find beers and Kirsty and Jon lay in the sunshine, each seeking a tan colour. Kirsty's eyes were half-closed as she smiled at Jon.

BOOK: The Blue Mountains of Kabuta
7.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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