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‘He spoiled my sunrise this morning,’ Katriona told him indignantly, and heard a roar of laughter from the other end of the line.

‘Blotted his copybook already, has he? I’ll ring you tomorrow night. Till then, take care, my girl.’

Katriona looked resentfully at the phone. Ross had gone without giving her a chance to say goodbye, and she had been enjoying talking to him. With sudden insight she knew he was as nervous as she was in the present situation, and the knowledge lifted her heart. Anyone scared of damaging a relationship must value that relationship. Perhaps her father was not truly indifferent to her existence.

‘Come on, Katriona, don’t dawdle,’ Carla snapped at her. Tick up the boxes as you come through the kitchen.’ Katriona followed the briskly moving Carla, wishing even more that she was not going with her. Nivvy winked as she handed her the empty fruit boxes, humming a tune loudly which Katriona instantly recognised as ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’, and grinned.

Carla reached an implement shed across the yard which had a bright yellow fastback car parked beside a motorboat on a trailer. She flung the door open, waved Katriona forward impatiently. ‘Throw those boxes in the back, and for goodness’ sake hurry up! ’

Katriona had been hesitating because it appeared to her that Carla had got into the passenger seat. As she sat down she asked, ‘What make of car is it?’

‘American make, a Mustang, fabulous car really, left-hand drive, of course, and a ton of power, but a breeze to drive. Twin carbs, custom-built—just feel the leather! Mmmm! I love speed, and this car holds the road as if it was married to it, a hundred is just idling along.’

Curiously Katriona watched Carla’s face as she switched on the key and the powerful motor sprang to life. Carla reversed out expertly into the yard and swung wide to take the corner by the diesel pumps, then picked up speed going down the bluff. For the first time she seemed alive, excited and happy as if she were part of the power that moved the huge car.

As they turned on to the main Lewis Pass highway and headed east, Carla’s foot went down and the car responded instantly, gathering speed as they hurtled up around the hill above Horseshoe Lake, which sat like a beautiful bluey-green jewel in its tranquil mountain setting. It looked so cool in the burning afternoon heat, surrounded as it was with green flax and raupo reeds and floating snowy-plumed toi-toi.

The windows were down and Carla’s long blonde hair was swept back from her shoulders, and her smile was one of pure delight. Katriona was not scared of speed, in fact she was almost unaware of it until she saw the speedometer creeping up and up, and even then she was not worried. Carla handled the car with easy unconcerned confidence.

The speed was too fast for Katriona to enjoy the scenery, just time to grab at the flashes of beauty, the hills brown and golden, the river green and clear, a cabbage tree in flower on the hillside, and the distant mountains. They roared by the slower traffic, and followed the winding road over white-painted bridges, round steep rising bluffs and hills, and swooped down gorges and gullies. Katriona was content to see a new aspect of Carla’s character, and was pleased at least to find something to admire even if she could not share it.

‘Hanmer coming up. I have to stop at the pottery shop, come in if you want to, though I shan’t be long.’ Carla eased back the speed and drifted in beside a small building at the road junction.

Needing no second bidding, Katriona followed her through the door. It was not a large shop, just a counter at one end and display shelves all along one wall. Several people were browsing or buying.

‘Damn! I didn’t think they’d be busy. I hate waiting,’ Carla snapped.

Katriona hid her grin. She was quite happy to have a little time to see the display. She wandered to the shelves and tried to imagine that she had a purse full of money and could buy what she wanted. Which would she choose? The jug and bowl? The casserole? The ashtray? No, there was something special about the shape and design of the cream jug and sugar bowl which caught and held her attention. She narrowed her choice down to two designs, autumn-toned open leaves fantastically arranged in a sunburst flower pattern on a white background, or the same pattern repeated in a greeny-blue colour on white.

She took the autumn-coloured bowl from the shelf, and loved the smooth silky finish of the work, the feel of the shape in her hands, the whorls inside even and perfect, clay from the potter’s hand, turned into this bowl.

‘You like that one?’ A man with glasses and an apron splattered with clay marks spoke to her.

‘You made this?’ Katriona’s voice always went husky when she was deeply moved. ‘Why, it’s fine ... it’s fine.’ Such an understated compliment for all the skill and care which had gone into making the bowl, all the artistry. She replaced the bowl and picked up the matching jug and her palms caressed it lovingly, feeling its warmth and shape and beauty. ‘It’s lovely, and I would love to take it, but I haven’t got my purse with me.’

‘You’ll be this way again?’ The man did not seem to be upset, and smiled when Katriona nodded. 'Next time you call I’ll take you out the back and show you the whole process from the rough clay we buy in to the finished work you hold there in your hand.’

‘Do come, Katriona!’ Carla’s sharp voice shattered the moment and Katriona carefully replaced the jug and turned to the man.

‘I really would love to do that. Thank you very much for inviting me.’

Carla was furiously impatient. 'Really, so stupid ... that woman took simply ages to choose a coffee mug set, dithering around. I just came in to grab something for an engagement present, anything would have done. I should have been served immediately. Why people are so gone on this stuff beats me! ’

Carla did not bother to lower her voice and Katriona winced at the words hoping the man had not heard, and followed Carla to the car. ‘May I see what you chose?’

‘There on the seat, a set of coffee mugs in that blue colour. I could have been in and out in a couple of minutes if that wretched woman hadn’t been so indecisive. Everyone has gone mad over this pottery ware. Amber has her place loaded with the stuff and is always buying more. It’s a disease with her.’

Katriona giggled. It would be with Amber. She would appreciate the skill and loving craftsmanship which, went into making these lovely things, and she would treasure them. Perhaps Amber would bring her back one afternoon and they could stay as long as they wanted.

She recognised the Hanmer village from the tourist book photographs she had studied back in Scotland and knew that it had not exaggerated the charm of the attractively laid out township with its tree-lined streets glorious in their autumn beauty.

‘Right, you pick the pears, I’ll be back.’ Carla pulled into a drive and leaned over to toss out the boxes. ‘Get a
move on. I won’t be long.'

‘All charm, that one,’ muttered Katriona as she watched Carla reverse rapidly out of the drive and sweep away in the big car. She laughed out loud as she realised that all unconsciously she had caught Nivvy’s way of thinking of Carla as ‘that one’. It suited Carla. Fancy not having the time to enjoy anything in life except her personal appearance, men and fast cars! Katriona still wondered why she had been invited. Perhaps she was misjudging Carla and she did mean to be kind, and it was just her unfortunate manner which was off-putting.

Revelling in the heat of the afternoon sun striking through her silk dress, Katriona gasped as she saw the green lawn, a mass of large ripe golden pears, and the tree above so laden that it was hard to see where they had fallen from. It took her about five minutes to fill each case and still there was fruit on the ground. She carried the boxes over to the edge of the drive ready for Carla, then catching sight of a rubber swimming pool she wandered over. It would be nice to plunge into die cool water, but she rapidly changed her mind as she saw three small trout and a slinky snaky eel basking in the sunwarmed water. As she touched the side, they flashed for cover under three or four bunches of river weed floating on the surface. The children of the house might enjoy swimming with their pets, but Katriona was not too keen.

How long was ‘not long’ to Carla? Katriona wandered about the garden admiring the apple trees bending their branches with an abundance of fruit. It was so hot. The sun was inviting, and the hedges around the property gave plenty of privacy and there was no one at home, so why not sunbathe? Quickly she stripped off her dress and picking some juicy pears from the ground stretched out to let the hot sun beat down on her. An hour passed as she lay first on her back, then on her stomach. She knew she would not bum, she was one of those rare redheads whose skin tanned easily and evenly. Her skin would be a nice smooth even gold by the time she went back to Scotland. Maybe she had inherited from her father her ability to brown without burning, something to do with the pigmentation of her skin. She certainly had not got it from her mother, who was a
traditional peaches and cream beauty and who was most careful of her complexion, never allowing the sun’s rays to touch her cheeks.

Nice to have something of her father in her and to be able to recognise it. Another hour, another pear, a cloudless blue sky above and time to dream ... of Morgan ... Morgan back there in the mountains, with the sheep and the tussock and the tall trees, and the deer ... anyone can dream ... dream that he was kind ... that he liked her ... that she could talk with him in that easy intimate way which Nivvy and Carla used ... that she could know him.

Reality was the urgent roar of the Mustang engine revving up the street, and Katriona slipped on her dress and wiped the pear juice from her face. The trip back was fast, but not as fast as the outward journey, and it was obvious that Carla had something on her mind. She put Katriona through,, a third-degree questioning session and was not pleased with Katriona’s ability to skilfully field and avoid the more searching personal ones.

‘I must take you up to see the new house,’ Carla told her. ‘Such a pity you’ll be gone long before it’s completed. It’s truly a magnificent wedding present to give Morgan and me. But then I could expect it, because he’s always treated me as his own daughter.’

Stupidly Katriona’s eyes went to Carla’s left hand. ‘You’re engaged to Morgan?’

‘Oh, don’t look for the ring. I hate long formal engagements, so we’ve dispensed with that part.’

Fiercely Katriona wanted to refute the fact that Morgan and Carla were to marry. After all, only at lunch time she herself had pretended that she didn’t want an engagement ring to cover the fact that she did not have one. ‘I thought that was Ross’s own house, the new one.’

‘Ross is building it, but he let me work with the architects to plan it, because Morgan and I will be living there more than he will. He has his own self-contained flat in the house, of course. You must ask him to show you the plans. I’m very proud of them, most ingenious.’

Rebelliously Katriona wanted to shout at Carla that ingenious meant clever and inventive, and that described Carla and her fake engagement. She wanted to shout at Carla that she, Katriona, was Ross’s real daughter, not an
as if
daughter. She did not do that because the truth was that Ross had probably treated Carla as his daughter and it was more than probable that Morgan was to marry Carla, and wishing it was not so would not alter that fact. Carla would not lie about anything that was so easy to verify. Katriona only had to ask Morgan ... and she knew she never would.

It was pure delight to see the homestead and buildings of Evangeline lying in the sun so beautifully as they rounded the hill above Horseshoe Lake. Only a day here and she felt she was coming home.

At the mail box Carla got out and checked for parcels and messages to take up to the house. She seemed a long time. Katriona sat feasting her eyes with all the beauty in front of her, the station buildings, the long line of the Frenchman’s Plantation piercing the blue sky, the hills, and back beyond to the mountains. She was now able to match up some of the people she had met this morning with the neat green and white farm cottages, she could hear the dogs barking and the men whistling to them, and her heartbeat speeded up as she knew she was getting closer to Morgan.

Suddenly Carla jerked open the door by Katriona. ‘Move over quickly, please.’

Katriona automatically responded to the sharp order and shifted across the seat, and to her surprise Carla slipped into the passenger seat, leaving Katriona behind the wheel.

‘When I was talking to Ross on the phone last night he said he’d ordered a small car for you while you were here. But Morgan said you can’t drive. It seems such a shame, owning a brand new car and not having the pleasure of driving it. So he was really pleased when I offered to teach you.’

‘In this ... this monster! ’ Katriona was aghast. 'I couldn’t! The hood is five miles long. I can’t even see properly. I’m not ready.’

‘I told Morgan that you’d be too chicken to learn, but he said you had more in you than appeared on the surface. Get out, and I’ll tell him he was wrong. Ross can cancel the order. Waste of money, really, when you’re only here a month, a stupid extravagant gesture.’

‘Morgan said that about me?’ Katriona sat stunned. Her father was so pleased to have her here he had bought her a new car for just one month. Two bursts of excitement waved through her slender body. If Morgan thought she could do it she would try.
‘Can
you teach me to drive this?’

‘It’s a breeze. I told you it’s fully automatic .. no sweat. Still, if you haven’t the nerve to make the effort, what’s the point? Get out.’

‘I’d be scared of damaging Morgan’s car,’ Katriona said shakily.

‘With me teaching you, you’ve nothing to worry about. Do you doubt my driving ability?’ Carla demanded scathingly.

‘No, not really ...’

‘Well then, what have you got to lose? I’ll take full responsibility. Switch on. All you have to do is steer the damned thing. Keep the middle black line on the hood in the centre of the road and aim it.’