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Authors: Rosalind Brett

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BOOK: The Reluctant Guest
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“They charge the earth for those jobs!”

“I’d do the sewing. It’s just the material.”

“We don’t own a sewing machine.”

“If I can’t, borrow one, I

ll sew by hand. What about the material?”

“I guess we can manage it, if that’s all. You’re taking on a load of trouble.”

“It may take longer than I thought, but it won’t be difficult. I’ll measure up and tell you how much stuff we’ll need. You may be able to choose it tomorrow.”

“Not I! You do the choosing

paints, too. See what you can do on fifteen pounds.”

The amount was too small, but Ann nodded. “As far as possible I’ll make the room blue and grey, with a touch of scarlet. All right?”

“Sounds magnificent,” said Elva with irony. “I
think
something must have been left out of my composition

I have a man’s aversion for renovations in the home. I’ll get moving. See you at about five.”

Elva went out, the horse cantered away and
Ann
sat down to write out a lis
t
of necessities for which she would shop tomorrow morning. After that she planned the stages, so that the room would be habitable while the changes were taking place. First, she would push the surplus furniture into her own bedroom, then cover what was left and clean down the walls. Once the room was clear of dust she could work at several jobs concurrently.

She found a scarf and bound up her hair, changed her dark slacks for a pair of disreputable denims borrowed from Elva’s room and her blouse for one of the faded check shirts. In the shed she found an old step-ladder, a bucket and a few tools, and thus armed she returned to the living room and got busy. She had cleaned the cobwebs from the ceiling
corner
s, brushed down the walls and window-frame and stacked the moth-eaten books from the case ready for carting into the kitchen for overhaul, when Storr Peterson’s estate car drew up on the path.

Ann stopped dead with her arms full of books, thought for a mad moment that she could drop the lot and lock the door but somehow could not move fast enough to do anything at all. Consequently, when he gave his usual light rap and opened the door, Storr was confronted with a scene of dire disorder and a girl who looked like a column of dog-eared literature with a thin startled face on top and worn denims rolled up at the ankles with flat black slippers to finish off the effect below.

“Miss Calvert?” he said, heavily polite. “I hardly recognized you.” He took the books. “Where do you want them?”

“Since you’re here you may take them to the kitchen for me,” she said coolly. “You might put them on the table in there. Elva said I could repair them for her

it’s one of the few things I do rather well.”

“Really?”

still with satire in his tones. “Aren’t you being a trifle modest? I’m sure you do artistic embroidery and play the piano.”

Ann ignored this. He dumped the books and came back for the second stack. She heard him turn on a tap, presumably to wash his hands, and took care to appear idle when he returned to the room.

He pushed his hands into his breeches pockets, looked about him. “What’s going on?”

“Elva’s re-planning the room.”

“Glad to hear it. Where is she?”

“She had to go out for a while. I thought I’d get on with the books.”

His dark lean face quizzed her. He nodded at her get-up. “Trying to get the feel of things?”

“Maybe.”

“Clothes don’t make the farming type, you know, and I should imagine the little housewife in your circle wears flowery overalls. What are you trying to prove?”

“Nothing.” She paused pointedly. “Did you want Elva, particularly?”

Just slightly, his eyes narrowed. “I came for two reasons, and one of them concerns you. I’ve had another call from Theo. He’s been advised to have his wrist X-rayed, and is going down to the hospital at Port Elizabeth. I told him it was wise.”

“I see.” Ann drew in her lip. “It must be rather bad

his wrist”

“He said not

it was just a routine piece of advice from the doctor and Theo thought he’d better follow it
.
We haven’t a hospital in this district.”

“I suppose it means he’ll be away for longer than we thought?”

“Four more days, he said. I was to tell you how terribly sorry he is.”

“Thank you.”

His regard was speculative. “That’s a pretty good poker
-
face you put on, but it doesn’t suit your age. I don’t
think
I’ve ever known two girls so different from each other as you and Elva. I can see what it was that got Theo.”

“I should imagine that you could work out a motive for almost everything, Mr. Peterson. What was your second reason for coming

or isn’t it my business?”

“Yes,” a little sharply, “it concerns you. By tomorrow, my house will be sufficiently organized for me to entertain a few friends. I’d like you and Elva to come in for dinner.”

Ann was unprepared, yet straightway she began to fabricate an excuse for declining. Then it occurred to her that a last-minute withdrawal might be wiser. So she said, “Thank you. You’re very kind.” And hoped he would go.

But Storr, apparently, was in no hurry. He got out cigarettes and offered them, flicked on a lighter and held the first to Ann’s cigarette and then to
hi
s own. His look at her was faintly arrogant, but keen.

“Do you like your job in Cape Town?”

“Very much. I’m lucky to have one that provides variety.”

“What do you do, exactly?”

“Three-quarters of the time I’m in the small office attached to the riding master’s house. I answer enquiries, get out accounts, pay the bills, do a little social entertaining when parents drop in to watch progress.”

“And I suppose that manner of yours gives the place a certain tone,” he suggested mockingly. “What made you apply for such a post?”

Ann
lifted her shoulders. “We were new to the country and I answered a few advertisements. Back in England I’d worked for a few months in my brother-in-law’s office, and as a child I used to spend my holidays with grandparents who kept a couple of horses. My experience was sketchy, but I was taken on and more or less groomed for the job.”

“You certainly sit a horse well.”

Ann felt a sudden sharp throb in her throat
.
She drew on the cigarette before asking carelessly, “Do I? How do you know?”

“I saw you turn up the lane with Elva this morning. You looked a bit stiff, but quite a picture. Elva, of course, always looks part of the animal, but she never had a riding master. She’s a natural horsewoman.” He sought an ashtray and she found a stained metal thing and put it on the window ledge, in front of him. Then he said, “I suppose you have all the appropriate ac
c
omplishments. Do you play tennis?”

“Not very well.”

“Go dancing?”

“Only seldom. When Theo was
...

She broke off, and he said softly, “Yes?”

Offhandedly she stated, “I was only going to say that we did dance a few times while he was in Cape Town.”

“What else did you do

shows and beaches?”

“Of course.” And then quickly and defensively, “He was a wonderful companion

quite the nicest I’ve ever had!”


All right, little one. I believe you. If he hadn’t made a whale of an impression you wouldn’t be here, trying to make your presence felt in his house.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Steady, there!
I’
m only stating the obvious. Elva may be planning and carrying out the alterations here, but she wouldn’t have thought of it if you hadn’t put out a few hints.” He gave her a maddening smile. “You want Theo to realize what a home should be like. And aren’t you lucky! He’ll be away long enough for you to have the place gleaming with polish and paint by the time he returns. That should rate a proposal within a week or so.”

“You’re very clever, Mr. Peterson, but on the wrong track. The idea of making a few changes here in the house was entirely Elva’s. When you eventually see the place gleaming with polish and paint you may give her all the credit.”

“Very well, I’ll accept that.” But he sounded as if he had still to be convinced. He grinned provocatively. “You wish I’d go, don’t you?”

Ann hesitated. “Not exactly. I just don’t understand you.”

“You haven’t tried. Are you shy

or frightened?”

“Why should I be frightened?”

“You’ve lead a correct and fairly sheltered life,” with sarcasm, “and some men are dangerous

your mother said so.” He switched suddenly from the topic. “Did you fly to South Africa?”

“No. Flying is expensive, and in any case, my mother needed the cruise.”

“Haven’t you ever flown?”

“No.”

“I’ll take you up some time. You’ll like it.”

“Do you come here in a plane?”

“Mostly, though this time I used the wagon. I can land a small plane on a strip that’s about twenty miles from here. The Airways Company operates only from the Transvaal.”

“Do you ever do the trips abroad yourself?”

“Not now. We started seven years ago with only two planes. Theo took one and I the other. We’re running five now, and five crews, with a few spares. The venture has grown into an organization and it’s less interesting. You don’t know how good it is to be back at Groenkop.”

Ann
suppressed an urge to look at him. She hadn’t thought of him as having emotions and heartfelt preferences, and the fact that he admitted, to a stranger, that
G
roenkop was more to him than just the family home, somehow made him a little more normal than she had thought him.

She put a question, impersonally. “I suppose you took up flying as a sort of reaction from Belati?”

“Partly. It was twelve years ago and the family were here then. I still have the same foreman

an Afrikaner who knows Groenkop down to the last mealie stalk. He lived here in this house, but when Theo took over I had another built for the foreman at the other end of the lands. He rated a nice new cottage, and anyway, his family was too big for this place. He’s a great chap with sheep.” He paused and added tentatively, “Isn’t this supposed to be a holiday for you?”

“A holiday is a change, isn’t it? This is certainly a change for me.”

“You should get out and see the district
o
r are you waiting for Theo Borland to act as escort?”

Ann
was coming to loathe the expression he put into his voice whenever he mentioned Theo. After all, Theo must have been a close
frie
nd of his, or he wouldn’t have given him a house and land. Yet, referring to Theo, he sounded sharp and cynical and omniscient
.
And he made Ann feel small and innocent and rather negligible.

She stubbed out her cigarette ad asked coolly, “Would you like some tea?”

“It’s a bit too early, thanks. What’s the matter

do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

“That’s what you intended, isn’t it?”

“I believe it is. I wonder why?”

“Maybe you don’t like English girls.”

“No, it’s you, personally. There’s something contradictory about you that irritates me. You’re cool and have your wits about you, you keep clear of danger by pretending to be open-minded, but you never unbend. I’ve a hunch that you’re afraid of being hurt.”

Ann tried not to be aware of the sudden acceleration of her heartbeats. “You see me as more complicated than I am. I just happen to be the cool type.”

“With that mouth?” he scoffed. “I don’t believe it
.

She stared at him, and a queer shiver ran through the whole of her body. Almost, she put up her fingers to cover her lips, but something told her that that was what he was expecting, and that when she did it he would laugh. So she moved slightly and looked out of the window, said evenly,

“For some reason you’re trying to shake me, aren’t you? I suppose it’s unexciting for you here at Groenkop and you have to provide your own amusement
.

For almost a minute he lounged there, against the wall beside the window, without speaking, but with his grey enigmatic stare focused on her bent head.

Then he said non-committally, “Some time, and maybe soon, someone is going to rock you to the foundations, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that chilly upbringing you’d had lets you down. I know you must have been warm and friendly with Theo, but if you’d thought he might threaten you in some way, you’d have gone arctic on him.”

BOOK: The Reluctant Guest
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