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Authors: Hilary Wilde

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BOOK: The Fire of Life
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There was a simple solution, of course, she told her reflection in the mirror sternly as she carefully made up. She could run away! Run away as fast as she could before she got hurt still more! It was as simple as that. So why didn't she? she asked herself. She knew the answer, therefore it was a waste of time to put it into words. She loved the wretched man . . . she loved him!

She stood very still, staring at herself in the mirror, pressing her hand hard against her trembling mouth. So she would stay on as long as she could, being a fool, a stupid fool? Was that what love did to you? What would happen next? This Aileen person was almost certain to be tall and slim, with beautiful long legs and a lovely face .. .

Rayanne found it difficult to join Mrs Jefferson for lunch, but it had to be done. Rayanne was surprised when Mrs Jefferson said nothing about the new visitor; indeed, Mrs Jefferson seemed to be in a strange mood. It could hardly be called depressed; perhaps a more accurate word would be

thoughtful.

So the meal passed with very little said and afterwards Rayanne pleaded an imaginary task of writing, for she had a strong feeling that Mrs Jefferson would like to be alone; that she had something important to think about.

After typing out the notes she had made—Cary had lent her a portable typewriter, scolding her for

 

her lack of thought in not bringing one out with-....' her—Rayanne walked in the garden. It was so hot that as she walked the perspiration trickled down her face ; the glare made her eyes ache, yet she felt too restless to stay in her room. If only she had a car of her own, Rayanne thought, and added: and could drive it! It would be nice to go and see Samantha Crisp and have a chat. In Africa it was essential to have a car of your own; particularly in a backwater like this.

A backwater like this . . . she repeated the words slowly. Where had she heard them? Samantha, of course, in one of her usual moans about the loneliness. Samantha had no car, nor could she drive, either. Both Daphne Macintyre and Christine Horlock had their own cars and Rayanne gathered that they frequently drove to the small town thirty-four miles away. Out here that distance was nothing, you got there in about half an hour. Now, Rayanne was thinking, if only she had a car she could see something of Africa and its beauty . . . but what was the good, for she wouldn't be here much longer. How long could she stay? she wondered. Mrs Jefferson had begged her to stay as long as she could. That was what Rayanne wanted too, but how would Cary react?

The garden was very beautiful. She walked right down to the water's edge and shuddered as she watched a crocodile moving with his slow crawl over the sandbank, then pausing, yawning, opening his huge mouth. He looked so absorbed in what he was doing, so determined to get what he wanted. It was funny how scared she was of crocodiles, she told

 

herself. The other animals didn't frighten her at all—except that she thought hippos and rhinos were so hideous she preferred not to look at them! Was she really so interested in wild life conservation? she asked herself. Or was it all because of Cary?

She walked back slowly towards the house. How lovely were the trees with the bougainvilleas, a lovely purple, climbing up their trunks, and those with their small white scented blossoms. This was a beautiful place. She could live here so happily.

Rayanne's mind seemed to skid to a standstill. Surely she hadn't been stupid enough to get as far as dreaming that maybe one day . . . ?

Ray! ' a familiar deep voice startled her.

She turned and saw Cary striding towards her. He was wearing a safari suit and had bare legs and feet. As he came closer she saw his hair was rumpled and he looked tired. This was so unusual that she found herself saying:

' What's happened?'

He smiled ruefully. Nearly a tragedy. Down the river three piccanins were playing in the water—they said at the edge, but even that's dangerous. Anyhow, a croc grabbed the leg of one and tried to drag the piccanin in . . . one boy hung on to his friend's arm, but the croc was winning, so the other one grabbed a stick and stuck it in the croc's eye . . . that made him let go.'

He's all right?'

Taken to hospital, and he may lose his leg. The one that saved him raced up to one of the wardens and shouted for help. I was there, so we went down. A bright piccanin to think of it. His father works

 

here.'

Then shouldn't he know not to paddle in the water?'

Cary looked amused. ' Isn't it a temptation for anyone to swim on a day as hot as this?'

Then you find it hot, too? I thought it was just me.'

Cary laughed. ' The rooinek sensitive touch, eh? No, it's unusually hot. By the way, we're having a visitor.'

We are?' Rayanne tried to sound surprised. She felt uncomfortably guilty because of what she had overheard that morning.

Yes—a bit of a bind. She thinks she knows everything, and I can't stand that kind of woman.'

' Really?' Rayanne, remembering what his mother had said, smiled. Can you stand any type of woman?'

Cary put his hand under her elbow. Let's get some shade,' he said. That is a provocative question.'

There were several chairs and a round white table under an enormous tree, through whose branches, covered closely with dark green leaves, the sun could hardly find its way.

Cary gave her a gentle push so that she had to sit down, then he pulled up a chair and sat down opposite, narrowing his eyes as he looked at her.

What makes you think I hate women?'

' I didn't say hate.' Rayanne lifted her hand and touched each finger as she spoke. I said can you stand any type of woman. First I hear you say women are a headache, then a nuisance and now

 

a bind. Doesn't that rather imply that you would prefer to be without us?'

Heaven forbid!' said Cary, smiling at her. ' How miserable and boring life would be if we were all men.'

' I wonder if you'd really mind. With your dedication to work, surely.'

You've been listening to my mother! Actually I spend a lot of time enjoying my leisure. I'd say I like women very much—but in their proper place.'

' And where is that?' Rayanne paused, then smiled: ' In England it would be by the kitchen sink, of course, but as you're lucky enough to have a good staff, I suppose it's behind the coffee table.'

In a way, yes,' Cary said slowly, as if thinking. ' On the other hand, wouldn't she be a bit of a bore? I mean, Daphne is rather like that. She never reads anything, she just isn't interested in the world or its inhabitants. She's an excellent nurse . . . but let's face it, she admitted it to us once, she only became a nurse because she was told it was a good way of finding a husband.'

But she's very beautiful. I'm sure she . . .

Beauty isn't everything a man wants, you know.' He offered her a cigarette and when she refused asked if she'd mind if he had one.

Of course not. I just don't care for smoking.'

Sensible girl.' He blew out a great puff of smoke. She felt the urge to tell him how bad it was for his lungs, but she held her tongue, because it was no business of hers! Well, to return . . . what sort of woman, you asked me?'

I did not. You twist everything. I said where

is woman's proper place?'

He smiled. I accept the correction meekly.

Now, where is woman's proper place? Perhaps I should say in a man's arms.'

There was a silence, a silence Rayanne could almost hear as she stared at him. She shivered. Had he guessed the truth? Had he seen in her eyes that that was just where she wanted to be? In his arms.

Then Cary laughed and broke the moment up. I know you're not thinking that way, Ray. I think I'd like a woman to have an interest in life; perhaps voluntary work; perhaps a career—something that makes her use her brains and mix with people. I like extroverts, rather than introverts—I don't like women who throw their weight around and think they know everything. Aileen Hampton is one of these. , I daresay she's a good vet, but she needn't keep telling me so.' He looked up towards the house. Ah, she's come. Good. I'm glad I found you out here.'

You are?' Rayanne was startled. But why?'

I want her to see that I'm already bespoken.' He chuckled. That is, if you don't mind me using you as the dummy I guess you're used to it by now with all Mother's ramblings. She'll bring Aileen out. Try to look at me as if you like me, Ray, and not your usual haughty look.'

I look at you . Rayanne paused. It was

all happening so fast. Cary was making use of her as he believed this Aileen was chasing him! He thought it meant nothing, then . . . then he had no idea, Rayanne comforted herself, that she loved

 

him?

He smiled and put his hand lightly round her shoulders after he pulled her to her feet. We'd better go and meet them.'

As they walked across the lawn, she was only really cons
cious of the touch of his hand o
n her warm arm, and then she saw the group coming out on to the stoep and down the few steps to the grass.

Mrs Jefferson led the way, her plump little body in a pale yellow frock, her hands clasped in front of her waist, her face worried as she was followed by a girl and a man.

Ah, Cary, there you are. I couldn't find you. Your guests have arrived,' she called, her voice clear in the quiet hot air.

Behind her followed the tall girl, with long slender legs, a beautiful face and red hair!

Rayanne caught her breath. Why, that was how her mother must have looked when she was young. That lovely cloud of red hair—the high cheekbones, the rather full mouth, the warm smile . . .

Miss Hampton. I hope the drive here from the airport wasn't too exhausting,' Cary said, shaking hands. ' I want you to meet Rayanne Briscoe.'

Aileen Hampton smiled at Rayanne. A warm smile; genuine, surely, Rayanne thought.

Cary,' Aileen turned to him, ignoring the formality in his voice, I do hope you'll forgive me, but I brought a friend along, Burt West.' She turned to the man by her side.

Rayanne stared at him and he stared back. There was nothing striking about him except that he was very short—about her height, she noticed. He gave

 

her a friendly smile. His blond hair was untidy, he looked tired.

I hope you'll forgive me, Mr Jefferson, but it was a chance in a thousand. I'm a professional photographer and would be most grateful if you'd let me take photographs of what goes on here. I'm planning an article on this wild life conservation,' he said. It's not easy to break the barrier of Jefferson Hall,' he added, with a rather sweet shy smile, and when I met Aileen and she told me she was coming here and suggested I escorted her .. . well . . .' he gave a little nervous laugh, ' I took the chance. I'd show you the article and the photographs before I submitted them to the magazine, of course. I really am interested,' he added, a pleading note in his voice.

How funny,' Rayanne said quickly, feeling sorry for him and wondering why Cary was so silent. ' I'm writing a thesis on wild life conservation.'

Burt West smiled at her almost gratefully. Then we're looking for the same thing.' He turned to silent Cary and smiled. Let's face it, I admit I've never had much time for wild life conservation and I thought if I could see it for myself and how it works out, I might understand how you chaps feel about it.

Cary's stern face relaxed. How right you are!

We shall try to convert you. Of course you can stay with us. I don't know if we have room in the house, but there are . .

Mrs Jefferson stepped forward. Most certainly

not, Cary. No guest of mine is going into one of

those rondavels. We'll be delighted to have you

 

stay a while, Mr West.'

He smiled at her. Burt, please, Mrs Jefferson.

This is awfully good of you.'

You've come at a good time,' Cary said. ' The next course starts in a few days, and you might be interested in the lectures and tours we take the students on.'

` Oh, I will be. This is marvellous.' Burt pressed his hands together and smiled at them all. A chance in a lifetime! '

And how are you, Cary?' Aileen Hampton asked, moving to his side. ' You look a bit harassed.'

Well, we've just had a kid nearly caught by a croc, and it's always rather shattering.'

' He's all right?'

Mrs Jefferson was pale. He wasn't . . . ?'

No.' Cary quickly told them what he had already told Rayanne.

' I hope the crocodile's eye wasn't hurt,' said Aileen. Is he still there?'

No, he slid off in the water when he saw us running down. I felt like shooting him,' said Cary.

It really does happen?' Burt said eagerly. ' I mean . .

Only,' Cary's voice was curt, if you're fool enough to walk in the river, or near the edge.'

Burt got the message, for he grinned. Don't

worry, I'm not a fool.'

I think we'd better show our visitors to their rooms,' Mrs Jefferson said. And you, Cary, must go and wash your face. I've never seen you looking like that. And no socks or shoes—tch, tch! Come

BOOK: The Fire of Life
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