The Man at Mulera (15 page)

“
Yes?
”
he prompted her, in metallic tones.

“
I shut him in the living-room, locked him away from the house and told him to rest there. He left at about dawn next morning; when I got up he was gone.
”

“
That
’
s fine,
”
said Ross.
“
Just fine!
”

“
What else could I do?
”

“
You could have sent for me!
”

“
Greg wouldn
’
t have it.
”

H
is smile was tight and vicious.
“
I notice it
’
s Greg all the time. You got really friendly that night, didn
’
t you? And you
’
re the person who has charge of a five-year-old!
”

Lou
’
s eyes blazed at him.
“
You
’
re implying beastly things! There was a night when I had to stay here in this house, but there was nothing wrong in that, because you were the man, and you have little interest in women.
”

“
That
’
s right!
”

“
Greg was ill, I tell you.
”

“
He looks surprisingly well to me, and he
’
s told me that he had only a very mild attack of fever early in the month. If he was sick there was all the more reason to get in touch with me. You must have known that.
”

Taut-voiced, she said,
“
Well, he just wasn
’
t that ill, I suppose. But I was sorry for him.
”

“
So when he suggested staying the night you gave in.
”

“
No, Mr. Gilmore! I was the one who suggested he should stay in the house. Greg would have spent the night with the junk in the garage but I wouldn
’
t consent to it.
”
She paused to take a deep breath, swallowed again.
“
And I
’
ll tell you something. If I were again faced with the same situation I
’
d act as I did then.
”

“
And you
’
d also do your best to keep it from me, I take it!
”

“
Yes, I would! You
’
re the most domineering, sarcastic brute I
’
ve ever met, and I can
’
t imagine any set of circumstances in which I
’
d come to you—for myself or for anyone else!
”

There was a silence during which grey eyes clashed with greenish brown ones. Lou was rigid against the edge of the table, and she couldn
’
t remember moving towards it. Ross stood there, aloof and icy, his square-hewn jaw and crisp dark hair outlined against the white wall.

Then, without another word, he went out and down the steps. Lou heard the estate car speed round the drive much faster than it normally did and accelerate out on the track. Her limbs relaxed, but her throat was hot and painful and her eyelids stung. She hadn
’
t shed a tear, but she felt as exhausted as if she had been weeping for hours.

CHAPTER FIVE

T
he
next few days were surprisingly tranquil. Lou summoned all her courage for the mid-morning visit to the District Commissioner
’
s house, and considered herself lucky to find both Martin and Peter Whyte there. Paula was sophisticated and smiling, and during a few moments alone with Lou she took care to mention that she and Ross would be going down to Zomba for a long weekend. As she spoke there was a hint of cruelty about the self
-
indulgent mouth, but Lou did not try to analyze its cause; she knew instinctively that her transfer from the manager
’
s house to that of Ross Gilmore was unpopular with Paula. She was also beginning to realize that Paula saw everyone connected in any way with Ross as a rival; underneath a mask of charm the woman even disliked Mrs. Acland.

In the house, Lou was self-effacing. She helped the boy in the bedrooms, till Ali returned to his work and refused to allow it
.
She sat with Mrs. Acland, took Keith for walks and gave him his lessons, had breakfast alone after Ross had left the house and often took her own and Keith
’
s lunch into the log sun-house in the garden. She couldn
’
t avoid meeting Ross at dinner most evenings, but Mrs. Acland was always there, and often someone else had been invited. For quite four days she and Ross did not address each other except when it was necessary. He was arrogant and withdrawn, but occasionally she felt
him
watching her speculatively.

Then came Saturday. At about eleven, Ross backed the big gleaming roadster from the garage and loaded a suitcase into the boot
.
Mrs. Acland, on hardly better terms with the heat than she had been when she arrived, called down to him from her seat beside Lou in the veranda.

“
Did you remember the present Ross?
”

“
I packed it
.
”
he answered.
“
You ought to be going with us, Maud.
”

“
Yes, I like weddings,
”
she admitted.
“
But I
’
m hoping the next one I
’
ll attend will be yours. Did Paula say she was to be a bridesmaid at this wedding in Zomba?
”

He nodded, his expression sardonic.
“
But I
’
m not best man, so don
’
t expect an announcement when we get back on Monday. You work at it too hard, Maudie.
”

He drove off, his head lifted towards them momentarily as he passed through the gateway. Mrs. Acland sprinkled talc over her hands and took up her embroidery.

“
It must be trying to get married in this climate,
”
she commented,
“
but then the young don
’
t suffer much from heat and humidity, do they? When did you last attend a wedding, Lou?
”

Lou answered softly,
“
It was Dorothy Weston
’
s, when I was sixteen. I was her only bridesmaid.
”

“
And too young to attract the best man?
”

“
He was married, but I was partnered by his young cousin.
”
The young cousin was Arnold Maskell, who now thought she should back out of her guardianship of Keith.
“
My brother was married at his wife
’
s home .in the north of England and I wasn
’
t able to be there.
”

“
Haven
’
t any of your girl-friends married?
”

“
I don
’
t know. Living at the school, I was cut of
f
from them. My colleagues were older.
”

“
How did you spend your leisure hours?
”

Lou considered this.
“
I didn
’
t
have many, except on Sundays, and even then I had to take my turn at marching the few boarders to church. In the winter I used to manage to attend a play or a concert about once a month, and in the summer there were tennis and swimming. I kept up with a few family friends, but I really hadn
’
t much time for them. Life was amazingly full.
”

“
And now?
”
queried Mrs. Acland in her kindly tones.

Lou picked up the sock she was knitting.
“
At the bungalow I was always busy. There
’
s not so much to do here.
”

“
What would you like to do?
”

Lou hesitated.
“
Some serious reading. And just occasionally I
’
d like to be able to forget why I
’
m here, though I don
’
t think that
’
s possible while I live at Mulera. Ross resents me too much.
”

Mrs. Acland looked up from her work, a little startled.
“
Do you really feel that?
”

She hadn
’
t protested that there was no need to feel it, Lou noticed; only voiced the stark question.
“
To me it
’
s obvious,
”
she answered,
“
and I suppose I resent him, too.
He doesn
’
t have any feelings himself and doesn
’
t care whether other people have them or not
.
I shouldn
’
t really speak to you like this, Mrs. Acland, but you did ask.
”

“
My dear, I like your frankness. Life can be so difficult if you keep everything to yourself, and besides, I may be able to help in some way. You know, it
’
s occurred to me that two women or two men would have made friendlier co-guardians than one of each sex. A man like Ross has to conquer a woman, and that sort of compulsion destroys the calm find serenity of ordinary friendship. I
’
m awful afraid,
”
she ended regretfully,
“
that one of you will have to give up Keith quite soon.
”

Patently, she didn
’
t think it would be Ross. Lou knitted and the silence grew, a little obvious at first and then companionable. Mrs. Acland was an ideal partner in quietude.

Just before one o
’
clock Keith staggered along the veranda looking hot and dishevelled. He showed reddened hands with pride.

“
Ali showed me and a toto how to dig a sand-pit,
”
he explained.
“
I worked and worked.
”

“
And you
’
ve done more than enough,
”
said Lou flatly.
“
I thought you were only watching.
”

Keith sighed.
“
Uncle Ross said I must use a trowel and do some of the digging. He said I must enjoy things I do for myself—not always have fun with
...
”
He cast about in his memory.
“
Uncle Ross said I mustn
’
t sit and let others make my fun.
”

“
On the other hand,
”
said Lou,
“
you don
’
t want to be too stiff and tired to play in the pit when it
’
s finished. After lunch you
’
re going straight to bed till four.
”

Keith sauntered away to wash, came back to look with disfavor on the salad of tomatoes, carrots, beans and sliced eggs which Ali was serving on the wicker table.

The child was in bed and Lou had changed into a green and white glazed cotton when Greg Allwyn
’
s small car stopped at the foot of the steps. The good-looking Greg came up into the porch with loose-jointed ease and half
-
bowed to the two women. He looked relaxed and brown and rather experienced, but was as slim as ever.

Mrs. Acland greeted him warmly.
“
It
’
s Saturday for you too, of course. Have you met many peo
p
le in Chekwe?
”

“
A few, some of them very pleasant.
”
He looked at Lou
’
s bent head.
“
I have an invitation to spend the afternoon and evening at a house party, and I wondered if Miss Prentice would take pity on me and go along?
”

Lou looked up.
“
You don
’
t appear to be in need of pity, my friend.
”

“
But I am. I shan
’
t know a soul except the chap who invited me, and he said that I
’
d be more welcome if I could bring a woman. I told him, cautiously, that I might, and he was enthusiastic.
”

Mrs. Acland nodded.
“
They
’
re like that out here; the men see too much of one another. Go with him, Lou. You were saying you
’
d like to forget why you
’
re here, and here
’
s your chance!
”

“
But I can
’
t leave Keith for the rest of the day.
”

“
Nonsense! He
’
s used to his own company, and Ali and I will be here. He goes to bed at six-thirty, so we
’
ll only have to watch him for a couple of hours or so.
“
Do
go Lou.
”

Lou meditated.
“
Are you quite sure you don
’
t mind being left alone?
”

“
Absolutely. I shall indulge myself and have supper in bed.
”
She gave Greg a long inquisitive stare, and remarked,
“
He
’
s nearer your age than Martin Craddock. Why aren
’
t you married, Mr. Allwyn?
”

Greg laughed.
“
Two or three reasons, but chiefly because I haven
’
t met the right girl—before coming to Mulera, that is.
”

“
Ah, I like that qualification. Well, go along, you two, and have a happy time!
”

Lou and Greg Allwyn were speeding along the track towards the main road before either spoke. But both were smiling, and Lou was conscious of a sensation she hadn
’
t known before at Mulera. So this was freedom! She drew a deep breath and turned towards Greg.

“
I like surprises. Thank you.
”

He met her glance for a second.
“
I knew Ross Gilmore was out of the way and took a chance. I
’
ve been hoping to nm into you all the week.
”

Lou smiled and made no comment. She looked out at the coffee trees and at the low mountain they were ap
p
r
o
aching. The afternoon sun cast angular shadows in the folds of the hills and gilded the eminences. The dark
-
leaved coffee trees looked varnished and static.

Greg said,
“
You
’
re not too jolly at the homestead, are you?
”

“
Myself? I
’
m as happy as one can be, in the circumstances. I
’
m growing fond of Mrs. Acland.
”

“
She
’
s rather one-track, isn
’
t she?
”

Lou nodded.
“
But she
’
s nice with it
.
It must be wonderful to know exactly what one wants for other people, and to help them to get it.
”

He grinned.
“
What does she want for Ross Gilmore— the blonde Paula?
”

Lou looked at him quickly.
“
You
’
ve learned a good deal rather soon. Who told you?
”

“
Martin Craddock, as a matter of fact He
’
s very keen for the marriage.
”

Lou recalled that Martin had also mentioned it to her at their first meeting.
“
You
’
re a man,
”
she said.
“
What
’
s the normal male reaction to Paula Craddock?
”

He was still smiling but looked wary.
“
My reaction wasn
’
t exactly normal.
I’
d already met you.
”

“
I
’
m serious,
”
she said.

“
So am
I. If I’d
met Paula first she might have rocked me back on my heels. As things were, I merely reflected that she was some looker and left it at that.
”

After a moment, Lou said,
“
Ah, well, they say you get the partner you deserve in life. Though fr
ankly,
I don
’
t believe it.
”
She waved at the hills.
“
Do people live up there?
”

He nodded.
“
But I thought we wouldn
’
t go straight to the house party. In fact, we needn
’
t turn up there till cocktail time. How about having tea at the Vima Hotel, near the Lake?
”

“
Sounds lovely. Tell me about yourself, Greg.
”

H
e did, in a drawl which might have been calculated to hide a few facts. His parents had parted when he was fourteen and he had remained with his mother till she married again, just after his twenty-first birthday. After that he had tried to settle into a job but finally decided he could do it better abroad. So he had come to Nyasaland and stayed here.

They were coming down towards one of the bays. The road wound between rocky hills which gave way to groups of eucalyptus which must have been planted by man at some time. Then came scrub-covered dunes, the
i
nevitable tall palms and the stretch of pale gold beach. The Lake was a vivid blue-green, and a couple of lake-side dug-out canoes, each manned by eight Africans, were s
kimming
gently between the reeds near the shore.

“
The water
’
s calm today—not even a
mild
swell,
”
Lou commented.
“
It must be the beaches that make the Lake look so much like the sea.
”

“
We get hefty waves occasionally,
”
said Greg, as he pulled in under a tree.
“
In stormy weather the Lake
’
s treacherous. Wait till we have a real wind.
”