The Fire of Life (18 page)

Was it that important?'

Rayanne nodded. To me, it was. Besides, I only meant to go to the Clinic, and that's not very far.'

Nevertheless the road goes through the Reserve-and it's wisest not to go alone. Was Cary furious when he found you?'

Rayanne laughed, a real laugh this time—at herself.

' I thought he would be—in fact, I was quite scared, for he was right-and I was in the wrong, but it didn't seem to have worried him at all. He said my fear was punishment enough . . . he meant fear of the elephants.'

It was fear of him?' Burt had asked, his voice changing, becoming a little aggressive. ' You're not really afraid of him, are you?'

Well . . Rayanne had hesitated. Not

really afraid, but I am here on . . well, he let

me come because of Uncle Joe and the least I can

do really is to . . . well, to conform with his regulations. And now we've got this party tonight.'

' What party?' Burt had asked, so she had told him. He had looked annoyed.

Still, it might be best for you, or else you may dream of elephants.' Then his hands had taken hold of her shoulders; this time more gently. Rayanne, there's something I must tell you . . .' he began, and Rayanne had known the moment she feared was there.

Burt loved her and was going to tell her—which meant that she would have to hurt him with the truth. She had felt her body stiffen as she waited.

It was that moment when the door had opened and Cary stood there. He stared at them, looking puzzled.

Sorry if I interrupted something,' he said curtly, giving Rayanne an odd look and quickly closing the door so that they were alone. But Rayanne had moved and Burt's hands dropped. He was scowling, ' Never get a moment to ourselves in this house!'

Rayanne had seized her chance of escape. ' I must go and change,' she had said, and almost ran down the corridor to her room.

She had been careful not to join the others until the guests had come. She wore a white sheath dress with a green belt, and a green ribbon round her head. As she quietly joined the guests, Keith made for her.

Hi . . . I told you we'd meet again,' he said almost triumphantly.

It had been a difficult evening, Rayanne was

thinking this next day as she walked down the well
cared
for lawn towards the muddy river. Daphne Macintyre at the party had looked like a cat with a saucer of cream; a corny expression, yet it was true. She had not spoken to Rayanne, but had obviously ignored her, almost to a point of rudeness. So had Christine, for that matter, but, with Christine it had been even worse. For Cary had never left Christine's side, while Rayanne had been unable to throw off Keith, who followed her round like a lost sheep, and Burt, who kept asking her to dance, whisking her away from Keith.

It had been a relief, or so Rayanne had thought at the time, when she was able to slip away to bed. But then the real troubles had begun.

Just how much longer could she stay in this, to her at least, paradise? she had asked herself. How long would she be welcome? By Cary, that was. She was sure he had been angry because she had gone off on her own in the Rover; also he had obviously preferred to believe Daphne Macintyre rather than Rayanne Briscoe! Then he had seen Burt upset and angry—and must have realised he had interrupted them at an important moment, and then finally his total avoidance of her during the whole evening. Not once, not even once, had he danced with her! Wouldn't it be better, she had asked herself, tossing and turning restlessly in bed, if she left? More dignified? More . . . more .. . she couldn't find the right word and then the tears had come. Foolish, no-good tears because she loved him so much and if she went, might never see him again. How could she do it?

Now as she turned away from the river she had strolled down to, she saw little Dorcas, the African maid who looked after her, come running, holding a note.

' I could not find you . . . you were not in bed,' she said almost accusingly. ' He is waiting.'

' Thanks.' Rayanne took the note in her hands and, recognising Cary's handwriting, felt fear slide down her back. Cary had something important to tell her? It could only be . . . it must be . . .

The equivalent of dismissal was an expression her father often used, and somehow it seemed to fit this perfectly, After a good night's sleep, Cary must have decided that Rayanne's disobedience of his regulations could only mean one thing: that she was unsuitable for the environment, another of her father's favourite expressions. She wondered why she was thinking of her father . . . was it because this would disappoint him still more? That if she was packed off from here, he would have to admit again that he had a strange daughter?

' The runt of the litter,' she had heard him say once. She had been much younger and had fled to her bedroom in tears. Later her mother had tried to explain that it hadn't been said seriously, that it was a joke . . . But it hadn't been a joke in Rayanne's eyes, nor would it ever be.

Now she turned the envelope over several times. She was afraid to open it. It was like receiving a death warrant—fo'r if she left here, life would no longer have any reason. Life without Cary would be . . . nothing Yet that was what life was bound to be, she knew.

Opening the envelope, she was shocked to see her hands trembling. Was she showing her emotion so plainly? Would it be a tactful brush-off? she wondered. Something like ' I feel sure you have collected enough notes and may find it easier to write the thesis in your own home.' A polite way of saying: Get out!'

She read the note. It was brief and to the point. Please come immediately to my study as I have something important to tell you.'

Come immediately—and Dorcas had been looking for her, Rayanne realised, so goodness only knew how long Cary had been waiting. This would only add to his displeasure, his certainty that the headache girl ' must go.

She hurried indoors, not bothering to look in the mirror, for there was no sense in that since he never really saw her, and tapped on his door.

Come in,' he said impatiently.

Rayanne obeyed, closing the door and leaning against it, as she stared at the man behind the desk. Cary was standing, not looking up as he sorted out some papers with a frown on his face.

It took you a long time,' he commented.

I'm sorry. Dorcas couldn't find me. I was in the garden.'

Cary looked up, his dark tufty eyebrows moving.

You had a rendezvous?' he asked sarcastically.

She coloured, knowing he was thinking of Burt.

No. Just thinking that perhaps I . . .' She drew a deep breath. This was the right moment, the moment to tell him she knew she should go home.

Sit down, then, and don't look scared to death.

I'm not going to eat you,' Cary said irritably, going on sorting out the papers. ' What were you thinking of, looking at the crocs? '

Just . . . well . . .' This was something she couldn't tell him, for it was the truth. She had been thinking of him and how desolate her life would be when he walked out of it. ' I wondered what you wanted to see me about. What have I done wrong this time?' she asked almost defiantly.

He stood up, putting the papers on one side, and stared at her. Rayanne Briscoe, isn't it time you grew up? Stop harping on that martyr line. You haven't done anything wrong. In any case, that's not why I sent for you.' He looked at his watch. There isn't time for this ridiculous . . . Look, in ten minutes I have to be on my way to New York.'

New York?' Rayanne was startled.

Yes, and I need your help.'

My . . . my help?' Rayanne's eyes widened as she stared at him. Cary was asking for her help! She found it hard to believe.

But it was true, and he sounded really worried as he went on:

Yes. You see, this has come quite by surprise, just as my trip to Cape Town was. I can usually avoid these journeys during the courses here, but this time I've failed. As you know, there have been far fewer lectures than there should have been because of my Cape Town visit, and I had planned to wind up everything this afternoon.' He patted the pile of papers by his side. These are notes on previous talks I've given and a rough draft of how to tie up all the bits, but—and this is the important part, Ray

—most of the lecture must be ad lib. The students are uninterested as soon as you start reading and it's important for them to leave here understanding why we support wild life conservation and what this reserve is for.' He paused, then smiled. I want you to give the lecture.'

Had he slapped her face, she could hardly have been more shocked. ' Me?' she almost howled with surprise. But . .

He stood up, glancing at his watch again. ' There are the notes, Ray. Mike will give you any information you need. I expect you have plenty yourself that you've collected for your thesis. Use the personal touch. Tell the students you came here as a sceptic. You were, weren't you? Perhaps you still are, but tell them what you've learned, what has caught your interest. But why tell you, I know you'll manage all right.'

Striding to the door, Cary smiled at her. Somehow Rayanne jerked herself into action. She had felt, for a moment, stunned

' But wouldn't Christine be better? I mean, she's been here longer than me and . . .' she began.

Cary's hand was on the door knob. ' Christine's bright in the laboratory but hopeless when it comes to facts about conservation.' He opened the door, then turned and said casually : ' By the way, you were quite right. Mike phoned me and said Samantha told him she had left a note for him.' Cary closed the door and was gone.

Clutching the papers, Rayanne made her way to her bedroom. She put them on the table, all her movements slow as if the slightest effort was exhaust-

ing. She could not believe it. Cary had asked her to take his place before his' soon-leaving students.

Somehow she moved to join the others at breakfast. Mrs Jefferson leapt to her feet.

Dear child, what has happened? You look so white,' she said anxiously.

Rayanne managed a weak smile. Cary has

asked me to lecture the students this afternoon.'

So what?' Burt asked irritably. ' If he can do it, so can you.'

But, Burt,' Rayanne almost wailed, ' I know hardly anything about it.'

Neither do they. You must have lectured before.'

I have—but not here.' Rayanne sounded desperate. I just . .

And what's so different about here?' Burt asked, his voice suddenly cold. It's only one of many wild life reserves—anyone would think it was the Albert Hall or the Royal Command Performance!' he grinned.

Mrs Jefferson stiffened herself and looked shocked.

The Jefferson Reserve is unique, Burt. There is none other so respected or quoted. It's a very responsible job Cary has given Rayanne, but my dear girl,' Mrs Jefferson turned to Rayanne again, ' don't worry. Cary wouldn't ask you unless he was sure you were capable of doing it. You see, we're always getting requests from quite famous people who want to come and stay here to see the Reserve and our experiments and also lecture. Cary always says No . . . he'll do the lecturing.'

I doubt if he'd have asked me today if he hadn't

to rush off to New York,' Rayanne said slowly. ' He must have been desperate to find someone at the last moment.'

That's absurd, dear child,' Mrs Jefferson said slowly. 'Cary knew for several weeks that he was going to New York.'

Rayanne's legs suddenly felt weak so she sank into a chair.

You mean . . . you mean Cary knew all along that he would be away ?'

Yes, dear, he did. He was annoyed because he had to go before the end of the course, but they refused to postpone the meeting. It's extremely important—something to do with a big reserve in South America.'

' So he could have arranged for anyone to lecture,' Rayanne said slowly.

Of course, dear. He could have phoned anyone and they could have flown up. No trouble at all. But he wanted you.'

' What do you mean, he wanted me?' Rayanne asked. She was suddenly afraid. Was it because it meant even more decisively that he didn't like her? That he wanted her to look a fool, to make her realise just how dumb and stupid she was? That would mean he was like all men—like her father and her five brothers!

He told me ages ago that he thought you would make a good . . . what was his expression? A somewhat funny one, dear girl. I've got it: channel. He said you would make a good channel between the students and him, that they would find you more interesting and more sincere because of

your age. You're very young, you know, Rayanne dear,' Mrs Jefferson added tenderly as she took her place at the table again and began eating.

I suppose I am . . Rayanne said thoughtfully. Young to a man of thirty-five! I'm no

good at talking, though. I'm always scared stiff I

shall start saying M'm . .. Ugh . .. Hum . . .

Nonsense,' Burt sounded annoyed. You talk very well. You must have been given plenty of notes by Cary. He's so methodical.'