A Man For All Seasons (13 page)

What would she think of it? His mind's eye travelled around the house. For the first time it occurred to him that to an outsider it may appear spartan. It was impossible not to compare it to the opulent environment he'd left behind. Would Seraphim cope? He sensed that a life of privilege and over-protective parents had left her insulated from the harsher realities of many people's lives. But still, he sensed a depth of quiet determination within her. She sure was going to need it!

By comparison he felt worldly wise. Perhaps it was that air of innocence that attracted him so strongly. In his experience it was a rarity. In her good heart and wide-eyed trust he had found part of what he had believed long lost. In his eyes it made her precious. But these very qualities also made him anxious. Quite simply he feared she just wouldn't be tough enough.

At the same time he knew he must not protect her. He sensed that she was evolving, that she had embarked upon her own journey. Where it would end, or how, he did not know, but he understood that she must walk the path on her own. As everyone who is to become anyone, must do so.

As they taxied slowly along the tarmac, Chad realised that, for the first time, his life had become intrinsically bound to that of another. It was a novel concept, both exhilarating and scary. As the huge airbus slid to a halt, a rush of happiness coursed through him. He felt an urgent desire to get home. Suddenly, he wanted to share. To take her to every corner of his world and share with her all his fears, his hopes and even, perhaps, his secrets.

Immigration was a bloody nightmare. Naturally he became victim to a random search. Immigration officers sifted through his belongings and Chad found himself growing increasingly uptight. What the hell did they think he'd brought back? For some reason he felt guilty, almost as if they ought to find something. Maybe it was a result of Seraphim's recent brush with marijuana. That thought only served to wind him up further. Bloody hell, maybe someone had slipped something illegal into his bag at the stopover.

But of course, his paranoia was unjustified. He spent a humiliating five minutes minus his boots, which a chubby young female officer insisted needed to be decontaminated. When he finally pulled them back on he'd just about had enough. He glanced at his watch. Immigration had wasted half an hour of his time. Seraphim would be waiting.

Thankfully he passed through the final gates without further delay and found his gear slowly rotating in solitary splendor on the baggage carousel. At the final exit the opaque glass doors swished open and he stepped out into the bright, light expanse of the modern airport. Brilliant sunshine poured through giant panes of pristinely clean glass, warming his face. Outside he could see fronded palms waving gently in the breeze. He felt himself relax. He was home.

He spotted her first, her pale face anxious, her nose wrinkled in concern. He waved and was rewarded with a wide smile. Even from a distance he could see the tension ebb from her slender form. As he strode up the aisle he noted with an odd sense of pride that she caught the eye of many a traveller, although she made no attempt to draw attention to herself.

She came to him and held out a hand. He ignored it, dropped his bags and pulled her into a bear hug, making her squeal with delighted surprise. He stole a kiss and put her down.

Together they rounded up a trolley and stowed their gear. It was a fair walk to the car park where he'd left his vehicle. Outside the terminal building they both blinked beneath the intensity of the sun's rays. Chad watched her, eager to see her first response to his country.

Slowly she turned her head, left and right. “It's so hot!”

He grinned. “This? No, it's just pleasantly warm. Where I live, now that's hot.”

“How hot exactly?”

For a moment he almost funked out and opted for a white lie, scared she'd gallop back into the terminal to find the next flight home. But he pushed the idea away. It wouldn't be fair. He glanced at his watch and reset to Aussie time: just after eleven am.

“Well, about now it'll be well on its way to forty degrees. Celsius.” Another month and it'd be nearer forty-five, but he decided to keep that little gem to himself, for the time being.

“Celsius? What's that in Fahrenheit?”

After some frantic mathematical calculating Chad told her. “A hundred and four.”

Her eyes grew into orbs of amazement. “But, that's impossible. You must live in the desert.”

“No. The Outback, we call it. It rains all right. In a good year we get as much as sixteen inches.”

“Sixteen inches? A year? Good grief.” She shook her head and her black hair swung across her face, momentarily hiding her. Slowly she lifted a hand and brushed the dark curtain away. An odd expression sat upon her features, intensely serious.

His heart sank. “Do you want to go home?” The words were dragged out reluctantly. He looked her in the eye, afraid of what he might find.

For a minute that felt longer than an eternity, she looked back unblinkingly. Then she shook her head. “No.”

Relief and happiness danced a samba through his brain.

Her hand gently touched his arm. “Is there anything else I ought to know?” A small, quirky smile teased him.

“I don't think so,” he said honestly.

“Good,” she said, “let's get cracking then.”

There was, he decided, a subtle change in her demeanor. She seemed somehow more mature, more self-assured. Even her gait seemed different, more purposeful, as she swung easily along beside him, looking around with her dark, eager eyes. In his estimation, it heightened her attraction, something he would have considered impossible just a short time before.

Out of the clear blue sky a flock of parakeets swept past them, rainbow colours dazzling, voices shrill. Seraphim cried out in delight, her head craning back to watch them until they disappeared on the horizon. “What were they?”

Delighted by her enthusiasm he told her, adding, “bird life's pretty good back home.”

She slipped an arm through his and rested her dark head against his shoulder for a brief moment and sighed. “I love Australia.”

He laughed, touched by her enthusiasm. At the same time he ardently prayed that she'd feel the same about the Outback. It wasn't for everyone but for him, there was nothing else.

Happily, his Land Cruiser was exactly where he had left it in the long lines of vehicles. They slung their varied bags into the cavernous space at the rear and were soon settled in the high, comfortable seats.

“How far is it to your place?” she asked, as she buckled up.

“It's about seven hundred kilometres.”

“How long will it take?”

“About nine hours.”

A long silence ensued. Chad reversed carefully out of the parking space and maneuvered the large vehicle down to the tollbooth. The accumulated fee left him light headed. As they pulled out onto the freeway he chanced a glance at Seraphim. A light sheen of perspiration lay upon her forehead and he adjusted the air conditioning. Inside the car, the temperature rivalled that of a pizza oven.

Concentrating on the road and the massive volume of traffic, Chad did not attempt conversation. Unused to city driving, it took every ounce of brainpower to stay on track and out of trouble. Seraphim sat quietly beside him staring out of the windows.

They scooted down past the Brisbane River, wide and free flowing, lightly populated with boats, canoes and ferries.

“Chad, it's a lovely city. It's so green and clean.”

To his way of thinking all cities were undesirable, but his profound relief in her approval cut through his prejudices. “She's not bad.”

Finally they left the great spread of suburbia behind and headed out down the broad bitumen road towards Gatton. They sped past the black soil flats, dark as bitter chocolate, and finally began the slow climb up the great granite range that led to Toowoomba.

Inside the vehicle, with its controlled climate, the temperature remained a pleasant twenty-four degrees but Chad knew that outside the air was cooling, and the heavy humidity lifting.

Seraphim admired Toowoomba, with its avenues of trees and splendid buildings.

“It's dry here isn't it?” she remarked.

Chad chanced a quick look around and frowned, it looked pretty good to him. “Maybe a little.” He felt foolish. What the hell would she think? She was used to the lush, green brilliance of England. His spirit quailed. After seven years of drought, Dingo's Rest resembled nothing more than a big red dust bowl. It hadn't been a deliberate deception. Drought was a way of life. It had just never occurred to him.

As Seraphim chatted gaily, commenting on the ancient landscape that spread around them in a sea of golden wheat, Chad nodded and smiled, whilst internally he battled with his conscience. To tell her or not? That was the question.

At the pretty township of Oakey they snatched a hasty lunch, before setting off again, travelling in easy companionship, as if they had known each other for years. He adored her enthusiasm and never tired of answering her myriad questions. Just past Roma she fell asleep, her head resting on the windowpane, her hand resting on his thigh.

Gently he placed his own hand over hers. Through gently parted lips she breathed softly. Deep in his heart, a well of tenderness like he'd never experienced before, blossomed. It filled him with an emotion akin to awe. He half expected to wake up from some magical dream.

The sun began to wane and send long shadows across the road. The bitumen strip tapered and vehicles became few and far between. Still she slept. At Charleville, Chad's fatigue began to creep in.

When he pulled into the petrol station, she stirred. As the engine died she sat up, eyes opened and she smiled sleepily at him. Then she stretched, the soft cloth of her blouse riding up, leaving a small strip of bare flesh exposed above the waistband of her jeans. Chad's tiredness fell away and he felt a rush of arousal. Slowly he stretched out his fingers and softly brushed the tender, smooth skin. She did not move so much as an eyelash, her hands clasped behind her head, her breasts taut and high.

Slowly he leant across, until his eyes where level with hers. “You are so lovely.” Fascinated and thrilled he watched her pupils dilate. Without losing eye contact she swayed toward him, placing her hands on the vulnerable nape of his neck. She trembled, and his body answered in kind. A finger whispered across his neck, soft as an emu's feather, and he let out a small growl of desire.

Lips brushed his. “Thank you,” she whispered.

A loud banging on the window made them leap apart like a pair of branded brumbies and a large bearded face grinned in at them. “Shall I fill her up then?”

Chad grinned. “Cheers mate.”

Seraphim gathered her dignity around her and disappeared to the ladies room. Chad waited patiently for her return with two hot pies steaming gently in their paper bags.

The passenger door opened and she hopped in, looking ridiculously tidy, hair swinging in a high ponytail, blouse uncreased. By comparison he felt as if he'd been folded and refolded several times.

“Here, try this,” he said, and pushed a pie into her unresisting hand.

She sniffed appreciatively and took a nibble. “Yum.”

The car filled with the savory aroma of meat and gravy and they munched steadily. Whilst Chad had to brush off several large flakes of pastry, Seraphim's lap remained immaculate. Outside the night had settled around them, a few streetlights illuminating the country town. A soft breeze stroked through the open windows.

She dabbed around her mouth. “How much further?”

“A couple of hours.”

“You must be exhausted.”

Concern wrinkled her forehead, and he felt a small ripple of happiness. He could scarcely believe that this lovely, kind, educated young woman would soon be home with him. “I'll sleep well tonight, that's for sure.”

Her teeth gleamed in the half-light and a hand rested weightily in his lap.

Surprised, he sucked in a sharp breath of air.

She lifted her mouth to his ear. “Don't bet on it,” she said softly.

Suddenly home seemed a hell of a long way away.

Fifteen

Since the journey had begun Seraphim had been a woman with her mind made up. Bed this man she would, and the sooner, the better. Now, as they started the last leg of the trip, she felt a fever of impatience descend upon her. With every moment of every hour, a growing urgency had built within. From the tip of his dark head to the end of his booted toes, she wanted him. She'd long ceased trying to rationalise or justify. All she knew was that this man lit her up like Guy Fawkes on bonfire night.

Beyond the bright beam of the car's lights, little was visible. Vaguely she could make out trees running either side of the thin strip of bitumen. She watched Chad. He drove with the same quiet confidence with which he did everything else. His right elbow rested on the open window, his left hand placed easily on the bottom of the steering wheel. Occasionally he smiled at her, filling her with a deep sense of satisfaction. Dark smudges gathered beneath the enigmatic deep yellow eyes, and his hair stood up at the crown, but otherwise he seemed unaffected by the marathon drive.