Unknown (5 page)

Frances peeled off her already smelly clothes and showered, scrubbing herself from head to foot. She changed quickly and gave her hair a quick rub. It plastered itself wetly around her scalp, but she didn’t stop to dry it. She knew the heat of the kitchen would soon do that. She pulled on some well cut green slacks and a soft green blouse, nipping it into her waist with a heavy leather belt. At least now I look a bit more presentable, she thought. The blouse hugged her damp skin as she bent to put on a pair of string sandals.

‘Now, Jenny, what can I so?’ she asked as she walked into the kitchen.

‘Well, water baby, I could suggest all sorts of possibilities,’ came the lazy drawl from Ian, still sitting at the breakfast table.

Frances felt his eyes on her, taking stock of her body in detail. Then he turned back to Jenny, saying he was glad she had some help. His smile for his sister was loving and -kind, and Frances had a painful glimpse of what he would be like as a husband in love with his wife. She pushed the strange thought away. She loathed this male creature who had looked on her as a means of sex and nothing else. One thing was certain, he wouldn’t have the chance to touch her again. She cleared the breakfast table around him, not bothering to be quiet with the dishes, but he seemed oblivious to her crashings and bangings. She made herself busy with rinsing the dishes before stacking them in the machine. Ian left, without bothering to say anything else to her, and she wondered why that should hurt.

The dishwasher was fully loaded and she set it in motion. On Jenny’s request she switched on the element and made a plate of pikelets, while Jenny buttered a date loaf she had taken from the freezer the night before. Jenny had previously cooked corned beef ready for lunch and now Frances made a start on the potatoes.

Jenny prepared two enormous baskets with tins of food, the hot pikelets still steaming and some Louise cake in neat squares. Coffee as well as tea was made, plus a water jug kept for the purpose, then milk, sugar, cups and spoons were got together.

Jenny glanced at the clock. Thad should be here soon to pick the baskets up. Do you think you could take one? I’m not meant to lug things and if Rupe caught me, life would be rather blue for a while.’

‘Of course.’ Frances had done almost a bucket of potatoes by now and looking at it Jenny laughed and said it was plenty. Their good spirits were interrupted by the sound of flying feet and Thad came running in.

‘Quick, Mum, where’s the grub?’

‘Thaddeus! Don’t you call my good food grub!’ exclaimed Jenny sternly.

‘Mmm, smells beaut,’ he grinned at his mother unabashed.

‘I’ve got the other one,’ said Frances. She balanced the basket in one hand and the kettle in the other and with Thad walked over to the shed. As they arrived the button was pressed to stop the machines for smoko.

Frances put the basket into willing hands and fled back to the house. She had caught a glimpse of Ian’s figure bending to the last fleece and she wanted to move before he made any remarks.

The day passed in a haze of meals and preparation and cleaning up. By four o’clock Jenny and Frances were tired but glad they had coped with the meals successfully. The shearers would return to their own homes for a meal at night. Now Jenny had in a large roast of beef cooking slowly. They would have it for tea hot, then serve the remainder for lunch the next day.

Rupe came to the house to see if Frances could bring the mob over from Ian’s place. She enjoyed the jaunt, glad that this time Ian was being kept busy in the woolshed. The woolly sheep were quite easy, ambling slowly towards home, and the dogs were glad of some work to do. Even the pup Scamp tried his best to moderate his enthusiasm, although he was inclined to overshoot his sheep and cause more havoc. The older dog, Fay, kept a wary eye on the situation, rather as a mother watches a child’s first attempts at handling a situation, ready to step in before losing control. The leaders of the sheep knew their way and moved off, pausing now and then to reach for a particularly delectable piece of grass. They became more cautious when they realised that the woolshed was between them and their home paddocks, but the dogs gave them no choice. Ivan and Greg, now home from school, came out to join in with the other dogs, Ian’s faithful black dog coming too. Dust soon stirred in the yards as the mob moved. It was too early to pen the sheep, so Frances went back to the shed to check if Rupert wanted anything else done.

Inside, the steady thrumming and whining of machinery dominated the odd bleats of sheep. Thad moved rapidly between the shearers, picking up the fleeces and flicking them on to the sorting table. A steady clicking sound made her look towards the giant press. It had been upended and now Frances watched fascinated as the two boxes’ contents were compacted into one bale. Rupert and Ian were working big handles, forcing the press harder, and she would see the muscles gleaming in their backs and shoulders as they took the strain. She could see the top of the bale was held in place by a heavy wood and steel lid covered with jute sacking. Now the two men straightened and she watched as Ian put another similar lid ready, while Rupert eased the empty top box down to the floor. Ian slid it easily into position, his face showing mirth at some remark Rupe had made.

His easy grace seemed reflected as he stood there, his chest bare, bronzed and muscular, rippling in the pattern of sunshine from the skylight overhead. Frances was glad she stood with her back to the light because she knew she could not drag her eyes from his superb physical condition. A dog barked somewhere and the sound broke into her reverie, startling the thoughts that still shocked her. Ian had finished stitching the bale together and with a final whang the sides of the press split open and the fresh bale took its shape on the floor.

Ian dragged it with a powerful steel hook over towards the loading bay. He sorted through stencils and watched for a moment as Ivan and Greg carefully filled in the black insignia marking the bale with farm, number and wool classification.

Rupert came over then and said that he and Ian would shed up so she could return to the house. She fled quickly, as Ian had become conscious of her; without saying a word he had made her feel a deep physical awareness.

Back at the house she changed into her swimsuit and dived into the pool, then tired herself more by swimming energetically.

Ian and the boys dived in to join her,, but she pulled herself out quickly, not wanting to run the risk of his tormenting, knowing eyes. At tea she was placed beside Ian and her appetite was banished by the feel of his muscular thigh against hers. Conversation was mainly on tallies and bales and she was interested in the discussion despite her lack of knowledge. All the same, she was glad that no attempts were made to prolong the meal; the whole household was tired and preparation for the next day still had to be made. Ian said goodnight and departed with a casual wave.

Ridiculously, Frances felt almost sorry when he had gone and she determined to make herself busy. Jenny was pleased to let her do some baking for the next day. She was exhausted when she finally fell into bed. She slept heavily until the alarm clock buzzed at six o’clock the next morning. On this second day of shearing she stayed in the house most of the day, glad to escape the noise and the dust, visiting the shed only to help Greg and Ivan with the heavy food baskets. The boys were delighted as it was Saturday and there would be no school.

On the second occasion Ian had taken the basket from her, a smile lighting his features. ‘Hey, water baby, why did you run from the pool last night? Don’t tell me you were scared?’

Scarlet, Frances had beaten a hasty retreat, infuriated to hear a chuckle echo her footsteps. At lunchtime she made sure she had a conversation going with the boys. Even so, Ian had come and sat beside her and her heart had fluttered like a butterfly’s wings. There had not been much room at the table and he had pushed his large body hard up against hers so she could not move. She sat very straight, determined not to acknowledge the havoc his presence caused. As soon as she decently could she eased her slim figure out, smiling sweetly that she had finished.

Rupert came over to the sink where she was beginning to clear up. ‘I’d like to take Jennifer out tonight to celebrate. Would you mind staying with the boys?’

‘No, of course not. A quiet night is just what I want. I’d like to leave early for Christchurch in the morning.’

‘Right—well, don’t hurry back on Tuesday. You’ve done a great job helping Jenny so much and I’m very grateful.’

The shearing was finished by mid-afternoon, so the workers enlivened the occasion with a small party.

Frances had a shandy too on Rupe’s insistence, but she felt too self-conscious to be near Ian, so she excused herself, saying she wanted to swim.

Having made the statement she felt she had to carry it out. Her one-piece was a heavy material and it felt clammy on, so she ripped if off and put on her bikini. There was precious little of it, but she hoped perversely that Ian would see her in it.

Some fighting spirit made her slip it on. If he treated women like sexual objects then let him see her as one! She knew the boys were going swimming, so they would be her protection. Her eyes sparkled at the thought. For once Ian wouldn’t be able to touch her.

She took two towels out and dumped them at the end of the pool, gradually edging herself into the water. The coolness was delicious on her skin. She lazed in the Water contentedly, pushing out any thought. She had just pulled herself out of the water when Ian came round the side and dived in. He swam neatly down to the end of the pool, then back to where she sat on the edge.

‘Come on, don’t let me spoil your games, water baby.’

‘You don’t!’ she smiled coolly. To prove it she felt she had better swim or he would accuse her of running away. She swam neatly to the other end, conscious that Ian was keeping pace with her, schooling herself to keep calm; she turned over on her back and floated, closing her eyes to let herself drift gently in the movement of the water.

‘Hey, water baby, I like your bikini.’ His voice about an inch from her ear startled her and she ducked suddenly, flailing one arm to regain her position. His hand neatly restrained her, and he pulled against her, his brief kisses melting her mouth.

She splattered against the water as he dumped her and she splashed him in a fury of silver sparkles. He laughed and sent a spray of water showering her in return.

The boys arrived then and joined in splashing gleefully, Ian and Frances making a team against the assaults of the three small figures. Finally she surrendered, climbed out of the pool and lay exhausted on the towel, covering herself modestly with the other one. Her gesture caused a gleam in Ian’s eye and seeing it she pulled an extra layer of pride around her. The towels had been given to her by the manufacturer after she had used them in a magazine advertisement. She rubbed the soft fluffy pile absentmindedly, remembering the series of poses she had worked out with the photographer. That would really give the sex-mad creature behind her something to think about!'

Deliberately she decided to teach him a lesson. Knowing he was at the end of the pool and she was in full view, she raised one shapely leg. She bent forward, apparently casually, to dry the leg, gradually easing it down and rubbing her body in slow sensual movement with the towel from ankle to thigh. Tantalisingly slowly she moved her other leg and repeated the gesture. She turned her face to the opposite side so she could control her grin before turning back to the pool in apparent dewy-eyed innocence. Now for the finale, she thought grimly. Up till now she had kept the other towel round her top, hiding her slim figure. She flipped it away, arching her body so her breasts stood proudly. Her buttocks she pressed harder into the side of the concrete, knowing this would pull in her tummy muscles and make her waist seem even smaller. She raised her arms with the towel and wrapped it neatly round her hair. Still apparently casual, she stood up and calmly did a model walk away from the pool, deliberately pushing her hips forward to accent the wiggle in her posterior. She held her head high until she regained her bedroom, where she laughed uproariously. There, that should fix him! she thought mirthfully. She showered and changed into a neat long silk patio dress in lemon and gold. As she changed she caught sight of her glowing eyes in the mirror and felt slightly ashamed of herself. Perhaps she hadn’t been wise to tease Ian. She dismissed the thought hurriedly and applied some cool perfume.

In the background she heard the roar of Ian’s motorbike. Evidently he hadn’t stayed long in the pool after her act, she realised, a cheeky glow glinting again. In her imagination there had even seemed to be an angry throb to the machine, and her eyes lit with laughter.

Frances
went out to the kitchen and began preparing an enormous pot of chips for the boys. Jennifer and Rupe said goodnight. They looked a charming couple going out together. Jennifer wore a dark blue calf-length dress with three pleated tiers that skilfully minimised her pregnancy. Her hair was curled softly about her face and her big dark eyes were highlighted. Rupe wore a formal suit and he looked the epitome of the country gentleman.

The boys were delighted with the chips and steak and side salad Frances had made. It had been so uncomfortable sitting beside Ian at lunch and tea the night before that Frances was hungry too. The boys helped her clear away the dishes and they watched television for a short time. Thad was just about asleep on his feet and Ivan and Greg were usually tired by this time, so she sent them to bed. She read them a story, tucked them up and said ‘Goodnight’. Greg curled his arms around her for a goodnight kiss and she felt warmed by his loving gesture. Thad was already asleep when she went to check and Ivan the Terrible looked soft and cuddly and defenceless. His eyes grinned sleepily as she ruffled the dark curly hair so much like his uncle’s.

There wasn’t anything she wanted to watch on television, so she sat for a while in the dark quietness, then decided to play some music on the stereo. She listened to a record, only vaguely letting it permeate her consciousness.