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‘Have you told the kids about the National Trust?’ he questioned.

‘I have mentioned it, but when I mentioned, too, the possibility of their living in the stud quarters they were very excited, and, I’m afraid, not unduly distressed over the Trust.’

‘That’s all right. In fact it’s as it should be. They’re young and anxious for new things, not old. But you, too, will be going. Are you anxious for the new?’

Instinctively Paddy replied with affection: ‘But the banana house isn’t new, is it?’ She realised what she had said, and added hastily: ‘Though I know, of course, I won’t be there.’

He still stood with the balloon glass in his hand. He had lifted it up before she spoke, but at her words he had kept it poised there. She could see his face through the crystal, she could see his eyes.

‘Of course,’ he said evenly. ‘Now for your briefing.’

‘Briefing?’ she queried.

‘We’re having house guests. Five members of the Trust will be arriving here quite soon to stay several days while they look over the place, check what will need to be done.’

‘I see. And as house-mother you would like me to keep to my own quarters, keep the wards in theirs ?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, looking over Yoothamurra means looking over its entirety, not just several rooms. In the finished reconstruction the house will be as it was in the beginning, no divisions for three different household functions. The Trust will naturally need to see every room, so how can you isolate yourself?’

‘Then you don’t want me there ? Perhaps I could take the boys down to the plantation.’

‘Having the boys down at the plantation isn’t such a bad idea, but the other suggestion is out of the question, for when they arrive I will naturally need you to establish them, be the hostess.’

Paddy protested, ‘But I’m a house-mother, not a hostess.’

‘You can pour tea, can’t you? Make polite remarks concerning the weather? I’ve arranged about the cooking, and a couple of valley girls have agreed to come in and help.’

‘I still think as a house-mother ’ But Paddy got no further. He had put down the brandy glass and taken several steps towards her.

‘As your employer, which I am, Miss Travis, for though Closer Families may have trained you they don’t call the tune any more, you’ll do what I ask.’

‘I think you mean call, like in call the tune, because you’re calling it loud and clear.’

‘So long as you hear it like that.'

‘Oh, I do!’

‘Then do what it bids.’

This time Paddy did not answer. Sulkily she turned away, only to be turned promptly and forcibly back.

‘These are nice people coming,’ said Magnus David, ‘and I want them treated nicely. Understand?’

‘Can a house-mother understand niceties?’ she retorted.

‘A house-mother will, or ’

‘Or?’

‘Just try to be nice,’ he said. ‘They won’t be young, but they’ll be very genuine, very earnest, very sensitive people.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And take that look off your face! ’

‘Yes, sir.’

What she would have done then Paddy, rather astounded herself at her impertinence, could not have said. She even recoiled a step in trepidation.

Then there was the sound of several cars pulling up on the drive outside, and Magnus, who had angrily advanced even further on her, turned round and strode to the door, then went out.

Paddy did not follow him, not then. She decided she would wait until she was asked. But she did go to the window to look out.

Six, not five, people were getting out ’of two cars, and the sixth did
not
look as Magnus had described.

Instead, she was young. Also, she was beautiful.

‘Very genuine, very earnest, very sensitive’ ... wasn’t that what you said, Mr David?

Oh, no, kind sir, not
that
one.

By
the time Paddy reached the patio, Magnus was at the bottom of the steps greeting his visitors. He did not glance promptingly up at her as Paddy had rather expected, instead his attention was on the youngest member of the group. On the exceptionally beautiful ... and Paddy observed that now ... girl.

To her surprise, for it seemed rather an unusual way to meet a member of a Trust, Magnus kissed her. Had Paddy been a moment before she would have seen it was in reply to the girl’s kiss, but all Paddy saw was a handshake all round to the rest of the Trust from Magnus, then for the girl—a kiss.

They all climbed the stairs. There were general introductions, then the allocation of bedrooms, after which Magnus asked genially if they would all assemble in the big lounge for talk and drinks.

‘You see,’ he said to Paddy when they had gone, ‘I’m not even giving you any tea-pouring, so there’s no need to wear that look.’

‘What look?’

‘A disagreeably surprised look.’

‘I don’t know about disagreeable, but I am surprised. The youngest member is not at all as you described.’

‘No, she’s not,’ he agreed calmly.

‘Then how ’

‘I’ve known Anthea for years ... yes, she’s Anthea Cope ... and I ran into her in Sydney.’

‘And asked her along as well.’

‘No, she actually does belong to the Trust.’ A pause and a slight smile. ‘To the social side, not the restoration. All such functions require a social side.’

‘So you made this pilgrimage social as well as informative?’

‘Look’ ... an irritated frown ... ‘she has every right to be here and you have no right to comment. Probably you’ve been the only rose on the bush so long you can’t bear another bud.’

‘Why, thank you, Mr David, no one has ever called me a rose before.’—But someone had called her a flower, a lot of flowers. Kip had said: ‘All the flowers of spring.’ But Kip’s offering had been sincere, and this from Magnus was deliberate sarcasm.

There were steps and the visitors began filing into the room again. Magnus got busy at the bar, Paddy carrying the tray for him. Mostly they took an inch of sherry, but the bud ... he had said that... asked for something on the rocks.

Paddy, suddenly restless and reckless, asked for a balloon glass of brandy for herself.

‘Your balloon has gone up,’ Magnus answered quietly, ‘take a small sherry and shut up about it.’

‘And if I don’t?’

‘Here you are, Miss Travis.’ He put the glass in Paddy’s hand. ‘Mrs Linfoot, would you like our Padua Travis, house-mother to my four wards here but now acting hostess for me, to give you a quick look around ?’

All the Trust except Anthea said they would like that very much, and they followed Paddy.

They were,
as
Magnus had told her, genuine, earnest, sincere, nice people. (Paddy did not know yet about the one who had not tagged on.) She enjoyed conducting them.

It was the same in the several days that followed, days when the Trust, when not sketching and measuring and mentally renovating and restoring, happily followed her on walks round the garden, through the bush, over to the stables and stud. On the last occasion Anthea came, too.

There were oohs and ahs of delight as they were permitted to stroke the noble brows of the Yoothamurra thoroughbreds. There were blurred eyes as Melisande summoned her daughter to her side then the mare and the filly cantered round the paddock. Into the light brought more admiration. Even the stable dogs, and a kitten who had attached herself to Golden Wedding’s box and to Golden Wedding, inspired applause.

All the time Paddy could not help noticing that Anthea kept looking around as though in search of something— or somebody. At last the girl came and asked carelessly: ‘Last time I was here there was a different trainer.’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Padua. ‘I’ve only been here myself a short while.’

‘Name of Norris.’ The girl was looking at her now with narrowed eyes, and Paddy realised it would be no good to try an evasion, not with someone like this.

‘Yes, I know a Mr Norris. Kip Norris.’

‘Where is he?’

‘He left Yoothamurra before I came. He’s at Standen, the neighbouring stud.’

‘I would know Standen, of course,' said Anthea. ‘I know all the places here. My grandparents had an estate on the plateau and I used to come up at school breaks.' A tiptilted, rather secret smile. ‘So that trainer left? Why?’

‘I would hardly know that, would I?’

‘No, you wouldn’t, not a house employee as you are, but I did think you might have heard.’

Paddy did not reply and a few moments went by.

‘Of course I haven’t been up for a long while,' continued Anthea, ‘I’ve been overseas. When I came back I decided to pick up the threads again ... social threads, I mean. I lived very much before my overseas stay-in the social whirl. But all my friends had moved on, I found, and—well, it wasn’t so simple. That’s why I joined the more frivolous side of the Trust. I had to have a toehold. But they’re a dreary crowd, aren’t they? I expect you’ve been wondering how
I
fitted in.’

‘Not really,' Paddy lied. ‘As I’m out of my depth in my present capacity of hostess, my time has been fully taken up trying to do a job I don’t know anything about.’

‘That,' nodded Anthea, ‘was apparent from the first. You’re Children, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, you could say that.'

‘Even more dreary, surely, than the Trust old dears.'

Paddy shrugged, ‘It’s a matter of opinion.'

‘Well, to my opinion it is, and Magnus must be off his head. Poor pet, though, it would be the trauma of Jeremy’s passing. When he sees clearly again he’ll change his mind.’

‘I don’t believe so. He’s intending to adopt these boys.'

‘I think you can forget that. Miss ... what was the name again?’

'Travis.’

‘You can forget that now that I’m here,’ said Anthea.
‘In
these last few days I’ve been reconsidering things, wondering
if
I do want the old bright regime after all, or if I want to settle down at Yoothamurra instead.’ A pause. ‘I’ve only to say one word, you know.’ Anthea gave
a
soft, small laugh.

The ladies were gathering round Paddy again, she had no opportunity to answer Anthea—anyway, even if she had, what could she have said?

She wondered what was the next attraction she could offer, wondered quite miserably, which surprised her, for she had loved every minute of being a show-woman, loved it as much as they had loved being shown, but now she felt distinctly flat.

Magnus came to the rescue soon after with a proposal that even got Paddy out of her doldrums. Though the horse pool was invaluable, he told the ladies, it offered none of the invigoration of a gallop along a beach and then a dip in the surf. The ladies could be driven there to watch, and the horses could be ridden there to participate, and as the road wound round the mountains but the track went over the mountains ... a brief reminding glance at Paddy ... they could both arrive at the same time. Would the Trust like that?

Oh, yes, they all liked that.

They left early the next morning, the ladies and Paddy in the two cars following the posse of riders. Posse was not the right word, Paddy knew, but she had not expected so many horses, so many horsemen.—One of them a horsewoman. Anthea was not being driven, she was riding, riding Rest Assured, the handsome brown colt that Magnus had told Paddy he reserved for special visitors
who could ride.

Anthea could certainly ride, and she certainly knew it. She handled Rest Assured, who loved to be the focus, with all the assurance of someone who loves to be the focus as well. Paddy heard soft mutterings behind her, for Anthea was not popular, but she was more absorbed in her own thoughts. What an utter greenhorn Magnus must have thought her after a rider like this!

They started off, but for some reason Anthea dawdled. Perhaps Magnus was in the rear, Paddy deduced.

She herself kept up a stream of informative chatter for the ladies. This stud they were now approaching was Standen, as big and as thriving a concern as Yoothamurra. She saw that Anthea was not just dawdling now, but had all but stopped. She also noted that Magnus was a long way to the
front.

Then Kip stepped out from a stable, and Paddy half-raised her hand to answer his salute. Then she saw he was not looking in her direction, he was looking in Anthea’s. She saw Anthea raise her crop and keep it there a moment, then the girl dug in her heels and caught up with the rest of the riders, and within minutes the horses were going Indian file over the edge then down the mountain track.

Magnus was right. The two parties arrived at the coast together, and then followed one of the most delightful scenes that Paddy had ever watched. Up and down the deserted beach the horses galloped, then, when the sweat was shining on their lovely coats, they received their reward—a plunge in the dancing blue surf. That they loved it was very apparent, several even let out whickers of pleasure. They cropped afterwards on the
grasses that
grew right down to the sand and while they
did
so Paddy helped Magnus boil some billies and barbe
cue
big steaks.

Paddy was quiet now. It was not that her pleasure had left her but that she was feeling something she could not have explained. Something about this place. A familiarity somehow. Familiarity?

‘Where are we?’ she asked Magnus at last.

‘On the beach.’

‘What beach?’

‘Do you want the latitude and longitude?’

‘No, just where. That is if you know where.’

‘I should. It’s ours ... I mean mine ... now. It’s the adjoining bay to Pelican.’

‘Pelican?’ she queried.

‘Didn’t you recognise the headland?’

‘No.’

‘You were too busy on other things, then?’

‘I’ve been helping you, haven’t I?’ she said.

‘I meant—then.’

In as hard a voice as his, Paddy answered: ‘Yes. Too busy. Does that satisfy you, Mr David?’

The horses and riders left soon after. This time, because of the steep ascent, they would take much longer than the cars. Magnus went first, then right at the end, as before, Anthea cantered by on Rest Assured. The cars gave them an hour, then left as well.