Anna of Strathallan (23 page)

As the car neared, Anna said, 'I'll leave you to it,' and turned to go. Immediately an arresting succession of hoots on the horn began. Anna swung round. Victoria put her head out of the window, called, 'It's you I want, Anna.'

She drew to a halt, proffered a cheek to Calum, said, 'I know you've never been to Te Anau, Anna. One of the larger lakes down in Fiordland. My three ladies are well on with their plan, and the. firm think I should be there just now. I'd like company. The old pets wanted me to stay with them, but I'm agin that. I like to relax away from work at night. I've got a motel booked at Te Anau and there are beds and to spare. How about you coming?'

Calum said promptly, 'You must, Anna. Betty'll give Kit a hand.'

Victoria's hazel eyes were sparkling. 'Good for you, Calum! I'd dearly love company.' She looked at Calum, 'I do miss your mother. Tell me, has she reached London yet? And Surrey? How did she find Blair and Yvette? I've been waiting and waiting to hear from you. I feel there's a conspiracy of silence about it and I find it stupid. All I want to know is how they are, if they're well, happy, settled. They must be settled, though. Blair's been in that one job for ages. Shows what happiness and the right partner can do for one. Quite different from the daft fancies one takes in one's salad days. But everyone skirts round the subject as if it was only yesterday that Blair jilted me, the stupid beggars.'

She turned to look, grinning, at Anna, but Anna had been looking at Calum. At Victoria's first words it had been as if a shutter had come down on his face. Victoria oughtn't to have said this in front of her. It should have been discussed in private It was out of character. Victoria was usually cool, reserved.

Victoria must have read her thoughts. 'Don't be embarrassed, Anna, nobody acts naturally with me any more, and every time I try to discuss it, or even just mention Blair casually, Calum shuts up like a clam. It's not good for him, not good for anyone. It's daft. People are jilted and engagements are broken all the time. It wasn't all Blair's fault, though at the time I liked to think so. I knew he was the roving type, and I was the stay-at-home. My dreams of marriage were all of a house I could decorate, not enough of the man.

'If I'd gone off with him, had the fun of living on a shoestring in out-of-the-way places, working at anything and everything till we had enough money for the next ship-fare, air-fare, whatever you like, it would have got the wanderlust out of Blair. Everyone gets sick of travel in time, wants to strike roots. Like Blair has now. I thought only of what I wanted, so he upped and offed. Since I've travelled round on this job I've understood what he felt. So for goodness' sake let's be natural and if you hear from your mother about him, tell me, good or bad. After all, he'll be my brother-in-law before long, won't he. I don't want your family split because of me, or taking sides.'

Now was the moment Calum would tell Victoria he'd had a letter from his mother yesterday. From Haslemere, Surrey. Anna had collected the mail and had handed it over. Calum had gone straight to Ian's with it. She'd thought it strange at the time that he hadn't passed on any news to Kitty and Gilbert.

Calum said, 'Mum hasn't reached Surrey yet She's still looking round London. I expect it gets you that way, the hub of the universe. I'll let you know when she sees Blair. Anna, you'll love Fiordland. One word of warning though, because you aren't used to the New Zealand bush - it's easy to get lost in, so don't get off the tracks. And Victoria, if you make time for a run through to Milford Sound, make inquiries before you do, to make sure all danger from avalanches is over. And when you're waiting your turn at the Homer Tunnel, keep away from under that sheer face. I mean that.'

'Yes, darling,' said Victoria meekly. 'After all, I'm only twenty-nine. No horse-sense yet'

Calum stood his slasher against the hawthorn, said, 'I'll come up and make you girls coffee while Anna's packing. Better get cracking now. It's a lovely morning.'

Anna had a feeling he'd be glad to see Victoria on her way. What had been in that letter? Did he want to postpone telling her? Or not tell her at all?

They went via Queenstown and round the foot of Lake Wakatipu to Fiordland. Te Anau was a dream; it had a more mystical, remote air than Wakatipu, because its arms stretched away into mysterious country, densely bushed with rain forests, where less than thirty years ago, a hitherto- thought-to-be-extinct bird, the
takahe,
had been discovered in a region still largely unexplored.

Victoria's three customers were like something out of the Victorian age, despite their modern dress, Eugenie, Hortense, Letitia. They invited Anna out to their home, too, one that was set amid scenes of peerless beauty. They were so grateful to Victoria for, as Eugenie said, 'handing us happiness on a platter. We sold most of the land, but nobody wanted to be bothered with a house as big as this and we couldn't quite afford to keep it going. We hung on as long as possible, trying not to sell it for demolition. But now we can install someone to look after it, and we'll be able to share our joy in these treasured possessions with so many people. Nobody not interested in antiques is going to come and see them.

'Victoria has been so wonderful, like an answer to prayer. We'd never have known how to contact the National Publicity Studios, the Tourist Corporation ... she's got it all ready for preliminary tours for Christmas when the summer holiday season starts. She's worked so hard. I do hope her young man hasn't had to forgo too much of her time.'

But he had, to a great extent. Apart from the trips to the lakes a group from Crannog had made, and the occasional visit to Alexandra, Calum had been home at Strathallan night after night, working on wool samples, the accounts of the estate, even sticking stamps in his albums. He'd been very understanding about Victoria not being free. 'Oh, well, that's her work, and it's the breath of life to her. Besides, she's got such a soft heart, and she thinks if the old dears can have a full tourist season, it will help them tremendously financially, and pay for the initial ouday.'

Anna was revising her first opinion of Victoria. She probably wasn't sexually frigid at all. Very likely she was just reserved with Calum in front of other people. She might be much more demonstrative when they were on their own.

The old ladies had the time of their lives. Though on the doorstep of the Fiords, they'd not been through to Milford Sound for so long. 'We only use the car for going to Te Anau, or Mossburn or Gore. The other roads are too rough for us now. But we so love Milford. We did the Track, of course, in our young days, with our father and mother, several times.'

Almost impossible to think of these frail ladies tackling what was often called the most beautiful walk in the world ... and the toughest. Three days it took, through terrain where it rained three days out of five, and streams had to be forded, heights climbed, and only rough accommodation provided. But it was the only way to really visit the fairyland of the rain forest.

Victoria said, 'You ought to get Calum to take you on one of the tramps. You have to book well ahead to join the groups. You wouldn't get in this year, but perhaps next.'

Anna said, 'You mean you'd come too? It would be such fun.'

'Depending on my work. I can't always get away when Calum can.'

Anna said, 'Oh, you must try. It would be no fun without you.' She found she meant that. She enjoyed Victoria's company immensely. She'd so missed her Fijian friends. How ironic!

They had a peerless day at the Sound, going through after heavy overnight rain that had given place to sparkling sunshine, so that every granite face streamed with the silver of cascading waterfalls that hadn't existed the day before. And Anna had never in her life seen such vertical scenery. When they came out of the tunnel and swung round and down to the right, Anna gasped as the full beauty of the Fiord - it was wrongly named a Sound - burst on her sight. The sapphire blue of its almost fathomless waters shimmered and danced below the plunging mountains that surrounded it on all sides, and one could imagine they dipped as far below the rim of the waters as reared above. Retreated glaciers flashed blindingly from the pockets high on the peaks and great hanging valleys spilled foaming waters from their laps. Mitre Peak, so symmetrical it was a photographer's dream-come-true, rose almost centred from the depths. The chorus of bell-birds and tuis soared and ascended, twanged and chimed.

Hortense said, appreciatively, 'There isn't anything quite like bringing someone here for the very first time ... someone as awake to beauty as Anna is.'

The three ladies had the day of their lives, recalling long- ago times, revelling in the artistic and palate-stimulating food put on by a superb chef at the hotel, gazing out at this feast of beauty so unspoiled and uncluttered.

They came back to Fuchsia Downs in the twilight, with birds twittering sleepily now, and sat without other illumination till the last light faded from the sky.

It was then that Hortense mentioned the heirlooms in Sydney. They were what their father had given his youngest daughter when she married an Australian. She had died three months ago. Her only son was an engineer in Indonesia. He had just written them saying he had stored them, meanwhile, because the climate where he was living was quite unsuitable for treasures such as these - they'd be at the mercy of mildew and insects and goodness knows what. Now the aunts were to stay at the old home, he wondered if they could take them back. The only thing was that he had found it hard to distinguish between what had come from Fuchsia Downs and what antiques his mother had bought since. It would be very expensive to ship the lot over, of course, so he wondered if it would be possible for them to go over.

Here Hortense coughed delicately, hesitated, looked at Letitia, who took her cue. 'We don't feel we could face such a trip now, and the work involved, unless someone younger could accompany us. Would you feel able to do this, Victoria dear? We would pay all your expenses, of course. Hal doesn't even want Eleanor's antiques - he moves round the world, lives in primitive conditions mostly, we thought the firm you work for might like first choice of them - Hal said the money would be of more use to him. Would you think it over, dear? We won't bustle you.'

Anna wouldn't have associated Victoria with snap decisions, but lately she'd seemed so much more alive. She said, smiling at them, 'I'll do it. The firm would leap at it. And I've nothing urgent on.'

Despite the unsurpassed beauty they'd left behind, Anna knew overwhelming happiness when they swept back over the cattle-stops into the avenue of hawthorns. Oh, they were still fully out. She hadn't really wanted to miss any of their blooming.

She was surprised Calum didn't go over to Sherbornes' with Victoria, though he'd had a little whispered conclave with her. He seemed very quiet. He waved her off with, 'I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, dear.'

Victoria said, 'Make it tomorrow night. If I'm off to Australia I'll have a bit of paperwork to get through.'

By the time the family at Strathallan had settled down after dinner, with their coffee, Anna was aware that not only was Calum quiet, but her grandparents too. Some heaviness of the spirit sat upon Grandy. Grandmother had shadows under her eyes.

The network news finished, they looked at the weather forecast, then, before
South Tonight
came on, Calum switched off the set. Before he could speak, Anna did. 'Are you going to tell me what's wrong? There's something, isn't there?'

The Drummonds looked appealingly at Calum. He said, 'Anna, the day you left we had a letter from South America. It had disturbing news in it.'

Anna felt the blood draining from her face. An appalling thought flashed into her mind. Was her father still alive? What would that mean to her mother? Would it disturb her new-found happiness? She clamped her mind down on that question. If he was, it could bring joy to his parents. But - she managed, 'What do you mean? Disturbing?'

Calum said, 'It's hard to explain. But tell me something first, when your mother married again, had she waited till she was widowed, or had she got a divorce?'

Anna swallowed. Then, 'Oh, Dad was killed before she married, but she'd had a divorce some time before that. She thought it was only fair to him. That if he wanted to be free to marry again, he must be. Though they took ages to find him to serve the papers to him.'

If anything they looked even more worried than before. Why?

Then Gilbert said heavily, 'Then it could be true.'

Calum said, 'Anna, the letter from South America was from a woman who calls herself Rosita Drummond. She says your father married her and she has a son, in his teens, Alexo. Some kind of an agent's letter accompanied hers, saying she had papers to prove it. A solicitor, I suppose. It wasn't too bad a letter - her English isn't perfect, so that made it a little hard for us to get the feel of it. The agent is claiming on the estate for them. Oh, not exactly claiming, . but approaching us.

'If you could tell us exactly when your mother's divorce came through, it would help. Your grandfather's solicitors, of course, won't pan with anything, merely on this letter. It would have to be thoroughly investigated, but at this distance, even that could be very costly. She said that only recently had she discovered Alex's parents' whereabouts. Fishy, that. But then she said he deserted her for another woman and it had taken time.'

Anna didn't mind this for herself, but she minded very deeply for her grandparents to receive more evidence of the perfidy of their only son. Another wound, another shame. She wondered how many lives her father had ruined. Oh, the pity of it, just when they'd found such compensation in the knowledge of the unquestioned bravery of their son's last hours. It was possible they'd have no legal claim on the estate, but Grandfather was so honourable, a moral claim would be just as binding to him. Two more people to keep would be a big drain on the estate.

She said, 'If it proves to be true, and they were deserted, and you want to help, don't forget that now the busy time is over, I'm taking a job in Roxburgh.' She summoned up a smile for them. 'You never know, Grandy, this Alexo might be a grandson to be proud of. He might even come here. You might find you could love him. You sent for me and I was an unknown quantity—'