The Reluctant Guest Page 2

  “He did say he used to fly.”

  The big shoulders lifted. “It was bad luck, but he seemed very willing to try farming. Both he and Elva grew up on a farm of sorts. He came here and took a piece of my land. In return for it, he was to watch my place for me while I couldn’t be here. I’d come down every four or five weeks.” He had gone back to the doorway and was leaning there, looking out across the step. “I’ve been overseas, touring our travel agencies, and I only got back to Johannesburg three days ago. I rather fancied a spot of peace and quiet here in Belati, so I came.”

  “Thank you for telling me.”

  He gave her another of his enigmatic glances. “You’re an odd one—neat and tweedy and fastidious. I wouldn’t have said you were a dish for Theo.”

  “You too? Theo’s sister implied the same. Yet he and I got on very well together in Cape Town.”

  “Could be—Theo likes going on the town. But this is Belati West—just farming country in the Great Karoo. He won’t be able to show you much excitement here.”

  “I don’t want excitement. The air feels marvellous after the coast.”

  “It’s the healthiest climate in the world.” He nodded down at the great black horse that was nibbling at the lawn. “That’s Joe. Do you ride?”

  “Yes.” Ann couldn’t have explained why she felt she had to be brief with this man; there was just something about him that rasped her a little.

  “I’ve a chestnut gelding that might suit you. The boy has been exercising it regularly so it wouldn’t be fresh. Borrow it when you like.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t you care for accepting favours?”

  Ann had pushed a hand into her pocket and now she felt the fingers of it tighten. “You’re awfully direct, Mr. Peterson, and I’ll return the compliment. I don’t mind accepting favours when they’re offered in the right spirit. I believe you’re getting at me, though, and I don’t like it.”

  His tones went very cool. “I’m not getting at you. I’d offer a mount to any friend of Theo’s, whether I approved of them or not.”

  “Does that mean you don’t approve of me?”

  “No—I don’t know you well enough to form an opinion. Tell me something—will you marry Theo if he asks you?”

  “I ... I can’t say,” said Ann, startled. “I came here for a holiday, because I was invited.”

  “Oh, sure. But Theo wouldn’t have invited you without a good reason. He’s bound to propose some time during your stay.”

  Ann hadn’t thought of it that way; couldn’t quite believe in it. “I’ll wait and see. It’s possible that here in Belati we’ll see each other differently.”

  He said softly, “But you did rather go for him—in Cape Town?”

  Ann looked up, saw a world of scepticism in those far too watchful eyes. Who did this man think he was? Theo was sweet and easy-going, he had the sort of smile that rocks the feminine heart and yet he didn’t take advantage of it. He had been kind and companionable, lighthearted and ready for fun. And tanned and fair as he was, he had looked so handsome with the sun burnishing his hair and the perpetual smile on his lips. This dark, wide-shouldered creature was trying to get under her guard, but he’d find it far more difficult than he supposed. Let him mock and probe; if necessary, she could deal with him!

  She smiled brightly. “I think I fell about as much for Theo as he did for me, Mr. Peterson.”

  “That’s nice,” he said conversationally. “It’s a great help for both of you. Well, I must get going.” He went out and down the steps, turned when he reached the drive and spoke up to her. “Miss Calvert—just one thing. When a man’s curious about a woman he’s not necessarily getting at her. Could be that he’s trying to warn her off doing something she might regret.”

  “Such as ... what?”

  “Such as getting tangled up with a man who would drag her out of the velvet-lined track she’s grown up in.” He gave her a deceptive charming half-smile. “So long.”

  Ann didn’t answer; she was too cross. She saw him loop up the reins of the horse and give the shining flank a smack that sent Joe on his way, riderless. Then the man slipped into the estate car and without a backward glance drove off. Ann turned back into the room just as the boy, Aaron, came to clear the table.

  “Will you show me my room?” she asked him.

  Aaron was wordless but willing. He lumbered into the corridor and waved a hand at a closed door. “That room, missus. Your bag in there.”

  Ann thanked him and went into the room, stood still and let out a long breath and some of the tension created by the Peterson man. Then she felt better, reflected that it was odd about Elva, who seemed to have disappeared, and peeled off her jacket before making an inspection.

  It was a square bedroom and contained a plain old single bedroom suite in a light wood that Ann had not met before. The curtains were of the same faded chintz as those in the living room, and the bedspread was a much-laundered green candlewick which had been pushed through a wringer and dried without shaking; possibly the boy had washed it without supervision. The single small rug had existed for so long that it had no definite pattern or colour, and it, too, looked as if it had been washed in a strong detergent solution and hung out to dry.

  The Borlands were not well off—that was certain. Yet Theo had spent freely in Cape Town, and he had spoken as if Groenkop were his. Not that it mattered whether he were rich or poor; Ann had liked him for himself, would have liked him if they had only taken walks by the sea instead of driving out to the beauty spots and eating expensive meals, going to the theatre and the cinema and the races. She wished, now, that he hadn’t spent so much, yet in a way she could understand his feeling of freedom, the throwing off of cares if only for a week or two.

  She unpacked and hung away her frocks, placed the empty case on top of the wardrobe and tidied the room. A pleasant view lay beyond the window. Backing the stretch of ragged grass were bushes covered in white flowers, and behind them billowed young eucalyptus trees which bore a few sprays of fuzzy scarlet. And above the trees and very much in the distance were hazy, hills in green and brown. The air was sweet and dry and warm. Ann filled her lungs, and decided it had been worth coming just for the atmosphere. Her mind repeated the word. Atmosphere? The human variety at Groenkop was certainly a little strained.

  Still, a great deal depended on one’s own reactions, and Ann was determined to ignore constraint and be natural. She had a wash and came back to the living room, found Elva there, lacing badly-scuffed riding boots over her slacks. The heavy blonde hair had been dragged back and twisted into a coarse chignon, and the neck of the check shirt, now visible, looked grubby and creased. But Elva was not to be judged by Calvert standards. The Borlands hadn’t a trim little mother with a conscience, as Ann had.

  Elva looked up, said brusquely, “We have a calf in trouble—I had to go out back for a while. Your room all right?”

  “Perfectly, thanks. I’ve already unpacked. Anything I can do for you?”

  “I don’t think so.” She stood up and shook her slacks. “You’ll feel a bit out of it till Theo gets back, but I’m afraid I can’t do anything about that. Did you bring books or knitting or something?”

  “A couple of books. Don’t worry about me, Elva. It’s all so new to me that I shall be very happy, just walking about the place.”

  There was a brief silence. Then, rather coolly, Elva asked, “How did you get on with Storr? Did he tell you much about us?”

  “No. He did say he’d come back unexpectedly after an absence of eight months.”

  Elva nodded, said a little bitterly, “He came in at ten o’clock last night. I was wearing the only dressing-gown I have—an old camel-hair that ran out of nap about ten years ago, and he came into the kitchen, where I was making coffee for Theo and a couple of his friends who were playing cards in this room. Storr laughed at me and pulled my hair, said I looked no more than twenty.”

  Ann smiled. “It was probab
ly true. You don’t look twenty-five.”

  “I feel a hundred.” Elva looked about her for cigarettes, found a box which had been scribbled over and helped herself. She struck a match, blew smoke and added, “Storr made his presence felt the moment he arrived. He questioned Theo about the stock and so on, found that a tractor-cultivator we sent away for repair four months ago hadn’t come back yet. So this morning, Theo had to go all the way to Wegersburg to see the engineers and get the thing moving. He was to stay and see it loaded for home before leaving himself. That’s why he wasn’t here to meet you.”

  “It didn’t matter, Elva. Really.”

  Elva’s pale lashes were lowered, as if against the smoke. She said, “If Theo had told Storr you were expected, he needn’t have gone till tomorrow. You realize that?”

  “I suppose that’s true.”

  Elva was silent for a moment before stating, “You see how it is. Theo borrowed a car from one of his friends for the trip to Cape Town, and he felt badly about it when he got back. He’d deceived you.”

  “Not deliberately. He just let me assume things—I was part of his holiday. I don’t believe he’d shirk meeting me because of that.”

  “He’s more sensitive than you think. As a matter of fact,” she deliberately knocked non-existent ash from her cigarette, “Theo didn’t know I’d invited you here—not till last night—after Storr had left us. I meant to get him up at dawn this morning and tell him...”

  Ann felt something cold running along her spine. “But ... wasn’t the invitation from both of you? If I hadn’t been sure of that, I wouldn’t have come.”

  Elva turned away. “You’re the first girl he’s been genuinely interested in since he messed up his career. He said you liked him, and that letter you wrote in reply to his ... well, he keeps it with him always. I knew he’d given you a wrong impression—that you thought he was a prosperous farmer and the rest—but I saw a snapshot of you—one he’d taken himself, and you looked the type to appeal to the best in him. Theo’s slack and a bit of a waster, but his heart is right where it should be.” Another pause, during which she inhaled deeply. “I didn’t intend things to be like this. I meant Theo to meet you at the halt, and to have a slap-up breakfast ready for the three of us, and a borrowed car for transport. Both Theo and I are careless drivers, so our own bus is pretty disreputable. Storr’s arrival upset everything.”

  “Is that the only reason you were fed up this morning?”

  “Well, no.” Elva sounded reluctant. “I did want to start off the right way, though. Theo is one of the best—he just hasn’t had the right chances.”

  “And what about you?”

  There was no change in Elva’s coloring, but Ann got the impression that she flushed slightly. However, her voice was firm enough. “I’m in love with Storr Peterson,” she said.

  Intuitively, ever since the Peterson man had entered the house this morning, Ann had known it. Yet spoken baldly like that the fact was startling, and for a moment Ann was unable to answer. She saw Elva take a last deep pull at the cigarette and fling it out of the window, turn impatiently and pick up the flat fifty, to fit it into her trousers pocket.

  At last Ann said quietly. “Was that another reason why you didn’t want Mr. Peterson to turn up unexpectedly?”

  Elva shrugged, as if she wished she had kept it to herself. “You wouldn’t understand. Storr gave us this house and fifty acres, he also gave us our wagon and a small tractor. We started off quite well, but somehow we both lost interest. A married couple would have made a go of it, but brother and sister aren’t all that keen on sending out roots in the same direction. We get on well, Theo and I, but there’s something missing ... bound to be. I want Theo to get married.”

  “And you yourself want to marry Mr. Peterson,” stated Ann softly.

  Elva’s jaw went hard. “How would you like it if you loved someone who never saw you at your best? I’ve got several good frocks and I used to manage to look fetching when he came down for a long weekend, but only for an hour at a time. There were always chores in the offing. Storr would come out and help me, but I used to hate it. I wanted to sit and look pretty for a change. I may not be so good-looking as my brother, but I can give points to most of the women in Belati West!”

  Ann was sure of it, and said so. But she had to ask, “How do you know Mr. Peterson doesn’t ... like you as well as you like him?”

  In faintly mannish tones, Elva said, “Oh, he’s fond of me, but he doesn’t see me. I haven’t got that neat, feminine touch that somehow attracts a man in spite of himself. Not that Storr is particularly drawn to very feminine women. He always says they’re out of place in this country.”

  Ann could imagine him saying that, economically and with a sarcastic smile. Oddly, she wondered how it felt to love such a man; rather wearing, she decided, and left it at that.

  “It’s a muddle, isn’t it?” she said. And then, impulsively, “You must let me help you. Wear your pretty frocks and let me do some of the jobs about the place. I’m not the helpless type.”

  Elva’s cloudy blue eyes roved the well-cut tweed skirt, the very white blouse with its carefully careless stand-up collar. “Your hands are bound to be tender.”

  Ann showed the palms. “They’re calloused inside from the reins.” She was suddenly eager and happy. “Do let me have a go at things. I’ve brought riding kit, and it’ll be fun to show Theo that I know something about the place, when he gets back. Would I be in the way if I came now?”

  “I suppose not”—grudgingly. “Get ready, and I’ll go out and have Theo’s horse saddled as well as my own. You can ride mine.” She hesitated in the doorway. “Look here, forget most of what I’ve told you this morning. It’s only half true, anyway.” And she walked out.

  A puzzling woman, thought Ann, as she quickly changed her clothes. Had she meant that it was only half true that she loved Storr Peterson? Ann didn’t think so. Elva Borland was an unhappy, frustrated person—and yet she had the essential ingredients of a really beautiful woman. A softer hair style, make-up, tailored frocks and good shoes, and Elva would draw admiration from any man. Why hadn’t she bothered? Why had she stayed on here with her brother, vegetating a long way from the sort of life that would have suited her? How had she slipped into this careless half life?

  Ann was ready, a slim figure in dark brown slacks and a cream shirt, the riding boots laced and gleaming. From habit, she glanced at her reflection, and something new in her face gave her pause. She leaned closer. It was nothing new, after all, only that her mouth had gone firmer and her eyes brighter. Must be this exhilarating climate.

  But she remained there a moment, looking at the straight nose and high cheekbones, the faint slant to her eyes which made them look a little fey, in spite of their golden-green coloring. She pushed her hair back behind her ears and deliberately crumpled the points of the shirt collar. That was better!

  She joined Elva in the sunshine, saw that both mounts were in the hack class and was thankful. Elva swung easily into the saddle of the grey, and Ann seated herself on the roan. Together, they made for the orchard, but turned left down a rutted lane which, Ann gathered, was the boundary and drive of the Borland acreage.

  Ann learned that in the off-season Theo employed only two boys on the land, and at the moment one of them was sick. The other mended the fences and did some clearing, milked the few cows, fed the fowls and kept the sluits clear. Not that it often rained. Elva rode ahead towards the road, dismounted to open a drunken gate and take a look into some sheltered urns which stood on a log bench. She made a sound of disgust. “That boy always manages to float twigs and grass on the milk. One of these days the Creamery will tell us not to send any more.”

  “Couldn’t you inspect them before he trundles them down here?” asked Ann.

  “Lord, one can’t do everything. I’ve been meaning for months to get the gate fixed, and there are potholes in the lane deep enough to wreck a car or lame a horse in the dark. You wouldn
’t think there were two of us working full time on this place, would you?”

  “You don’t bother to get organized.”

  Elva turned a hard grin towards Ann. “Maybe now that you’re here we’ll mend our ways. Are you looking forward to seeing Theo tonight?”

  “Yes, of course.” It was true. The very thought of Theo, nonchalant and carefree compared with his sister, sent a wave of relief and excitement through Ann. “What time do you think he’ll come?”

  “In time for dinner, if I know Theo. We’ll put on a good spread, pretend you arrived this evening instead of this morning.”

  “Shall we dress up?”

  “Why not? It’s a special occasion.” Elva reached for the rein, said casually, “You’ll be nice to Theo, won’t you? Remember that he’s only known you were coming since last night.”

  “I’ll remember. He was grand in Cape Town.”

  They had jogged along for some minutes when Elva said, without expression, “It make a difference, you see. You got to know Theo at his best and if he falls a little short of it now you’ll be disappointed, but you will know how he could be. I’ve never been at my best in my life.”

  After which she tapped her horse with the rein and moved ahead.

  On the whole, it was an interesting if rather unsettling day. Ann discovered a great deal about the Borland ménage, but not enough to understand it really well. Aaron, apparently, did all the cooking—very plain, but in huge quantities. He also polished the floors, cleaned the windows, did the washing and ironing and between times tidied the garden and chopped wood for the kitchen stove. The boy didn’t seem to be overworked, but then most of what he attempted was only half done. For his own sake, perhaps, he gave most attention to the cooking, so there was seldom a grumble from his employers. Either they did not notice his shortcomings in other directions or they made allowances.