The river is Down (32 page)

She had been in a sea of despair because of her mistakes; now she was spun to a hilltop. For one dizzy moment she didn't know where she was, so great was her relief.

Nick watched her.

Cindie.' 'he said gently, repenting. He leaned a little forward. 'You have a face so full of changing thoughts, some sad, some glad. You are like an open book. You could never have got away with that change of name, you know. Those dark blue eyes of yours tell all.'

'I played such a silly game of duplicity.'

He laughed.

`Well, don't regret it. We all like to do that occasionally. We all like a little change of personality from time to time. What do you think I was doing at that conference, Cindie?'

She shook her head.

'I didn't care a two-by-four bit of ironstone about the railways and roads those tycoons are planning to build westwards from my road to their deep-sea harbours. I only cared about my part of it. The thousand-miler. For the rest of it I liked puffing up like Swell and talking in millions. ` Don't you think I was masquerading? Of course I was. I enjoyed every minute of it; and I haven't a twinge of conscience.'

She stared at him.

`Are you really so many persons rolled in one?'

'I suppose I am. But as you've just proved, Cindie—

aren't we all? So what? So long as one is honest, and straight-

; from-the-shoulder when it comes to matters of principle, what does it matter if now and again we do a little play-acting with ourselves?''

`You don't mind my being Cynthia Davenport—when I said I was Cindie Brown?'

There was a moment's silence. Nick's face lost its smile, and the twilight mask came over his eyes again; but kinder this time.

'Cindie Brown-all-over,' he said slowly, softly. 'Jim gave you that name, didn't he?'

'I was so covered with dust when he first saw me? 'You're very attached to Jim, Cindie?'

'Yes—in my own way. I needed him so badly. He could advise me. He was such a pet about it all!'

A new thought flashed into her mind and she looked up quickly.

'Flan thought I was in love with him,' she said clearly. 'Just in case you too make that mistake, Nick—/ love him. But I'm not in love with him. There's a difference—'

He was watching her eyes: dark violet blue and very earnest.

'You think it is important I should know that?' he asked gently.

`Yes. Very important. Because of Mary. I didn't realise how Mary felt about Jim, and I was a bit open about my affection for him. Now I do know. So I'm making it quite, quite clear

'Because of Mary?' he asked again quietly.

'Because of Mary. And because it's true.'

'I see.' He was still looking into her eyes as if reading something there that interested, perhaps even touched him. 'Cindie,' he went on irrelevantly; not taking his eyes from her; his thoughts unrelated to his words. 'Would you like to gather up the lunch things while I fill the petrol tanks from the storage cans?'

'Of course,' she said, jumping up. 'It must he getting late.

I suppose we won't arrive at the camp till the small hours?'

'Not until dawn, unless we pack at speed and get going.'

They were soon in the Land-Rover again.

Cindie felt a different person. No more subterfuge. No more worry. Her mother's share in Bindaroo would be safe, and, she hoped from Nick's manner, he would keep her on at her job permanently. It was hard to really believe it all: yet it was true. Wonderfully, incredibly true! She looked into the future and saw long vistas of working for Nick as his secretary.

Perhaps he might sometimes, just once in a while, call her Cindie Brown-all-over the way he had said it back there by the coloured lake hidden in the hill. As if he too liked it very much.

They drove the many miles back to the turn-off, then over a worn station track towards the open plain over which Nick had yet to cross before he reached his own road.

The colours blazed in the sky as the sun declined. The land shaded from the colour of burnt straw to flamingo pink, then minutes later, a soft blue shadow lay over all the world. Creatures of the half-light and the dark were moving everywhere. Out of the end-of-day's silence came the emus—one of their flock racing beside the car. Kangaroos, hundreds of them, bumped up and down across the spinifex. Once Nick swerved sharply so as not to run over a huge goanna.

'Thank you for not running over it,' Cindie said gratefully. She felt so companionable with him now.

'Why aren't you asleep, Cindie? Driving up to Mulga Gorges from the camp you went off like a top.'

'I have too much to think about. Besides

'Besides what?'

'I was afraid I might droop on your shoulder again, like a wilted flower. Then you wouldn't be able to drive safely. You're going very fast. If I was certain which way I'd lean —that is—if I accidentally fell asleep . . . It's embarrassing, you know

He put out his arm.

'Lean this way and be done with it,' he said, letting her come into the curve of his arm. 'Now I know where you are, and I won't have to wait for a bump on my shoulder. Not to worry, Cindie—the car won't turn over.'

It was wonderful, glory-be; and icing-on-the-cake!

Cindie's defences fell away from her. This was like being carried up the gorge path. It was how she had felt when he stood by her bed—and just looked down—as if heaven were near but would not fall. She had longed for him to bend

His body was warm and his arm was strong. It enfolded her, and held her, and comforted her. She dreamed off on the edge of another fantasy—away into a world where she had no defences against herself. It was almost wanton, yet was only a day-dream.

She stirred, turned a little: her face in his neck. Her mouth touched his skin.

Nick slammed down Iris foot, and braked the car to a stop. He sat unmoving, looking straight ahead of him, the warm soft bundle of girl in his arm.

'Cindie! Why did you do that?' His voice had a break in it.

She wanted to say 'Because I love you.' But she couldn't, of course. She couldn't give him any answer, because the truth was too painful. Not Erica's perfume—this.

He loosened her from his arm, turned and took her by the shoulders—holding her back from him so the starlight and the risen arc of the moon could shine on her face. He looked right into her eyes.

'Cindie? Cindie Brown-all-over? Why did you do that?'

A star fell from heaven. She knew. It was the sound of his voice.

'Because . . . because . . .' The words muffled in her throat. Her eyes with a moon-bow in them, looking back into his, gave away her secret.

His hands held her shoulders tightly, himself just that near-arm's length away from her.

'Cindie, I love you. Beautiful, sweet, deceitful, blue-eyed Cindie. I love you! From the day those violet eyes challenged me with such disdain across the door-frame of your car, on the rise over the river—I loved you. I loved you, my dear captivating wilful two-name Cindie—ever since the river came down. And I found you.'

Sunrays and moonrays seemed to burst in a wild splendour across Cindie's heaven.

'Nick ... I love you too. . . . That is why I did it. I didn't mean to, but I put my lips against your neck—just there She touched the place gently, with the tips of two fingers. 'It was because I couldn't help it. I was driven—'

His arms went round and he crushed her to him. His mouth was on her mouth. Nothing stirred in all those millions of square miles of spinifex and claypan. Even the animals seemed to stand still—as if they too had seen a star-burst.

'Cindie Brown-all-over!' Nick said at length, so softly it caught in the strings of her heart. 'My Cindie. My wife. I hope you will always be driven—that way.'

He drew her into the curve of his arm again. With his free hand he turned her face so her cheek rested in the curve of his neck once more.

He started up the car, raised the headlights so they made a path of gold across the plain, and down the long, long trail of his road.

They drove on through the wild country, through the Never, across the outback, to the road construction camp.

She had been found when the river was down, and now he was taking her home.