The man at Kambala (15 page)

The music came to an eventual stop, and Jill disengaged herself from Don's arms to go and put on another record. He immediately came over to where Sara sat and pulled her to her feet, shrugging aside her protestations that she couldn't dance properly with the assurance that she would find it easy enough to follow him once they got started. As it turned out, Sara did, but she was uncomfortably aware of everyone's eyes on the two of them, of Jill's stiff little smile as she stood by the record player and Steve's total lack of expression. She was glad when the record ran down in the middle of the number, giving her an excuse to make her escape.

`Not at all bad for a beginner,' commented Diane lightly. 'With a little practice you'd be as good a dancer as anyone I know. It's a pity you're so far away from any kind of entertainment out here. You'll have to come and stay with us some time and let us show you how the rest of the world lives.' She paused as if a thought had just occurred to her. 'In fact, why not come back with us on Tuesday? Your father is due home in about three weeks, isn't he?'

`Yes,' Sara acknowledged, 'but . .

`Well then, you'd be in Nairobi to meet his plane, and you could have a good time until then. I'm sure Jill
would be pleased to have someone her own age in the house for a week or two until Steve gets back to finish his leave.'

A small silence descended over the room. Jill had flushed and Steve was sitting up suddenly straighter, his gaze on his sister's face.

`Jill?' he demanded.

Diane looked from one to the other of them and her expression altered. 'You mean you haven't told him yet?'

`Told me what?' Steve's voice was quiet but edged. `I was under the impression that you were staying on for a week or two, Jill.'

'I was.' She hesitated, then shrugged with a wry little smile. 'I just didn't realize how ... deadly dull it was going to be. Sara's all right because she's used to it, but I . . . well, I'd go crackers if I had to spend every day and night doing the same old things. I'm sorry, Steve, really I am. You know there's nothing I like better than to see you.'

B
ut not at the cost of your personal enjoyment,' he said dryly. 'All right, it's understandable. I should have thought about it before.' His glance moved to Sara. `Well, what about it?'

She hardly knew what to say, or even what she wanted to say. Steve might have reservations about her association with Don here on Kambala, but it was certain that he had even more over Jill's feelings for the man away from here. If Don's game was to play one girl off against another, as he appeared to have been doing tonight, then her own presence in the Milson
household would hardly command Jill's friendship. Yet if she didn't go there was a chance that he might take rather more advantage of Jill's obvious attraction to him than she perhaps bargained for. On her arrival Sara had thought the other girl sophisticated and knowledgeable in a way she could never be. Now, after seeing her almost beg Don to take notice of her, she wasn't so sure. As for Don himself, her opinion of him had undergone an abrupt volte-face after the deliberate way in which he had left Jill standing. It seemed that Steve might even be right about him. He did like to hurt.

The whole room seemed to be waiting for her answer. She said slowly, 'I haven't got the clothes for visiting, I'm afraid.'

`You could kit yourself out while you're down there,' put in Ted, speaking for the first time in about twenty minutes. 'You've never touched that account Dave opened for you at the bank the last time you were in Nairobi. And you could visit Kimani. He's going to be in hospital for some time with that fractured thigh, according to reports.'

That appeared to settle it. Sara looked across at Diane and tried to sound suitably pleased about it. 'It's very good of you to ask me. Thank you.'

`Then that's settled.' There was a note of satisfaction in her voice. 'You'll have to let me show you the best places to shop. Not that there's any need to buy so much, apart from a few dresses suitable for back here too.' For a moment her eyes met Steve's, and she smiled with a hint of intimacy. 'And in three weeks we'll expect you back in town yourself.'

`I'll be there.' It was said with assurance. He got abruptly to his feet. 'Anyone for a drink?'

By Monday night Sara had reached a fatalistic state of acceptance over the coming visit. She didn't want to go and it was no use pretending that she did, but it was too late to back out of it now.

Since Sunday she had battled silently with the suspicion that it was Steve she regretted leaving even more than Kambala itself — battled and lost. Their relationship had been brief, tempestuous and in many ways enraging, but her whole life had changed on the day he had arrived here. Not that acknowledging his attraction for her was going to do her any good. He still saw her as a troublesome youngster, and was hardly likely to miss her, she told herself bleakly. Diane was the kind of woman he wanted. Diane was the kind of woman any man would want.

She was still awake at three when she heard Steve's door open and close softly. Without thinking about it, she slid quietly out of the narrow bed and opened her own door, standing there for a moment listening. There was a clink of glass from the direction of the living-room, although no light showed. Recalling that other night when he had been out chasing the poachers, Sara crept along the corridor and gently eased open the door, no clear idea in her mind. Unable to see anyone in the vicinity of the drinks cabinet, she pushed the door a little wider, and almost fell into the room as he spoke.

`Curiosity killed the cat — or
are you walking in your sleep?

He was sitting in a chair beyond the doorway. Sara had a feeling that he had known she would follow him and had seated himself there deliberately to wait for her. She was glad of the darkness at that moment. If she couldn't see his face properly it was unlikely that he could see hers either. The knowledge gave her confidence.

`I heard a noise,' she said. 'I didn't know it was

You?

`Who were you hoping for?'

It was a moment before she answered that one. `Ted sometimes wanders about in the middle of the night.'

`As well? We seem to be a household of insomniacs.' There was a pause, then he added in a slightly different tone, 'I'd advise a wrap of some kind if you plan to do any night-prowling while you're with the Milsons. You're liable to catch a chill like that.'

`I'm not cold,' she denied. 'And I don't have a wrap. In any case, I'm..'

`In any case . . . what?' he prompted as she paused.

`Nothing.' She half turned back the way she had come. `I'm sorry if I disturbed you'

`You've done little else but since I got here,' he said dryly. 'Looking forward to tomorrow's trip?'

`I suppose so.' She hovered uncertainly, trying to gauge his mood. 'At least I
won't be bothering you
anymore
.'

`No.' His tone was enigmatic. 'Quite a relief. By the time we meet again you might have stopped disliking me quite so much.'

Her breath caught. 'I ... don't dislike you,' she managed.

`You've given a very good impression of it at times.'

`If I have it's because you've provoked me into it.'

`Is that so?' He considered her with his head on one side, then his mouth lifted suddenly and unexpectedly into a smile. 'Maybe you're right at that. There's something about you that would provoke any man into asserting himself. You're too damned independent, for one thing. You'd get a lot further if you learned to lean a little.'

There was a fascination in speaking with Steve like this. Sara felt her own mouth curving in response. 'On you?' she asked. 'It's a bit late for that now.'

`It's never too late.' His voice changed again subtly. `Sara, I want you to promise me something.'

She stiffened. 'What?'

`That you won't let Don come between you and Jill. The two of you were getting along fine until Sunday night. Since then you've barely spoken a word to each other. He's not worth it.'

`Have you told Jill that too?'

`It wouldn't be much use telling Jill anything right now. She's infatuated with him and hardly likely to listen to anything against him.'

`It's only a couple of days ago that you were classing me in the same state of mind,' she pointed out. 'I don't seem to remember you pulling any punches that time !'

`You're a different proposition. You don't respond to gentle handling. Basically, I think you probably saw
through Don from the start, only you liked the attention he paid you too much to listen to instinct.' He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees with the glass between his hands. 'I'm asking for your help, Sara.'

She was silent for a long moment. 'The way I see it,' she said at last, 'is that you want me to try to persuade Jill that Don is no good by treating him with contempt myself.'

`Something like that.'

`Why don't you try telling him to leave her alone? Or better still, why not simply send her back to Mombasa where he won't be able to get to her?'

He made a shrugging movement. 'Because neither course would work. I want Jill to get over it herself, and the quickest way she's going to do that is by seeing him for what he is.'

`Supposing he were really in love with her, and she with him?' Sara suggested unsteadily. 'Would you still be against him?'

His head lifted. F
or Jill, yes. He's too old for her, for one thing.'

A tightness came into her chest. 'I don't see why that should have anything to do with it.'

`Well, it does,' he retorted roughly. 'Anyway, the question doesn't arise. Stop prevaricating, Sara. You assessed Don pretty thoroughly on Sunday night, and you can open Jill's eyes to him too if you really put your mind to it. The question is, will you?'

`I can try,' she said at last. 'Only don't blame me if I fail to get through. Jill is too much like you to take kindly to my interference.'

Steve's mouth quirked suddenly. 'Just can't resist a dig, can you? You'd be surprised how much leeway I've allowed you this last few weeks.'

The familiar irritation swamped all other sensations. 'If I'm old enough to be entrusted, with this little job than I'm old enough to be regarded as an adult now, so stop patronizing me, will you? I'm sick of it !' She half turned to make for the door, barked her shin violently against the sharp edge of a stool and gave an involuntary exclamation of pain.

Steve was on his feet and beside her before she could move, swinging her up in his arms to carry her 'back to the chair he had just vacated and deposited her there. Kneeling in front of her, he rubbed the injured spot gently through the thin cotton of her pyjamas with the palm of his hand for a moment, then sat back on his heels to look at her with a faintly twisted smile.

`You're a fireball, Sara Macdonald. You should carry a warning: light the blue touch paper and stand well clear ! Is the pain going off?'

Having him there in front of her like this gave her a sensation which was pain and pleasure combined. She had to fight against the sudden desperate urge to put out her hand and touch her fingers to the strong mouth.

`I think I'd better go back to bed,' she said huskily. 'I . . . It's going to be a long day.'

It was a moment before he moved, then abruptly he stood up. 'It would seem to be a good idea. And don't forget what we talked about.'

I
won't.' She was on her feet, suddenly desperate to get away from him. 'Good night, Steve.'

`Sleep tight.' There was an edge of irony to his voice. As she moved towards the door he picked up the discarded glass and lifted it to his lips with an air of having already dismissed her from his mind.

THE Milson farm was some ten miles out of Nairobi at the foot of the Ngong Hills, the house Spanish style and impressive. Familiar with the shabby homeliness of the banda at Kambala, Sara found the whole place rather overpowering in its luxurious appointments and superbly tiled floors. Obviously the Milsons were not reliant solely on the income derived from running the farm itself, which explained how it was that both of them could afford the time to make trips like the one from which they had just returned.

She met and liked Barry Seymour, Don's manager, who had been left in charge during the last week, and was not slow to note the way in which the younger man's eyes followed Jill everywhere, although the latter appeared quite unaware of it herself.

Nairobi was chock-a-block with tourists, the wide main streets packed with cars. Under Diane and Jill's direction, Sara %ought three, cotton dresses for day wear, and a long one in varying shades of blue with a scooped neckline and tiny sleeves which fitted her like a glove — necessary, as Diane remarked, if they were to visit the country club while she was with them. For the rest, she was already in possession of several pairs of perfectly wearable trousers, she declared, and steadfastly refused to spend any more on clothes she would hardly be needing back at Kambala.

She managed to get to see Kimani in hospital,

finding him resigned to a stay of a week or two if not exactly happy about it. The break had been a bad one, and his leg was in traction. He too doubted very much that he would be returning to Mara at all in the foreseeable future. Sara left with the assurance that she would call in again before she went back herself.