Unknown (7 page)

Frances felt strangely elated to be driving back to the farm. She looked forward to seeing Jenny and Rupe and the boys. She had determined to ignore Ian, hard though that might be. She knew she would not be satisfied with a mere physical relationship, so she would do her best to keep out of his way. Even thinking of him was a strange pleasure, she recognised, but for her a dangerous one. For she knew so little about him. A thought struck her suddenly—perhaps he was married. She tried to recall what Jenny had said about him. However, she had heard no mention of any wife and she was sure the boys or Jenny would have mentioned it. Now she recalled hearing about Gam, a strange name certainly, but she knew she was an elderly relative who lived with Ian. Perhaps Jenny would tell her more.

The road was becoming more familiar already. She stopped only briefly in town to buy the boys some sweets. With being so many miles from any dairy they were not accustomed to the pleasure of candy, and Frances remembered Kathy’s delight when she had bought her some novelty sweets before. Accordingly she bought three bags of fudge, half a dozen large gob-stoppers and some whacky false teeth which turned out to be marshmallow and peppermint. She knew the boys would be delighted.

Jennifer was at the door to greet her when she arrived. ‘Kettle’s on!'

‘Grand, I need a cup now. My goodness, it was hot driving out!’ Outwardly composed, Frances picked up her bag and carried it into the farmhouse. Once inside she was reassured by the silence. Obviously Rupe and Ian were not there. She changed quickly, then rejoined Jenny in the large sunny kitchen.

‘The men are down at the river. They’ve been working non-stop, so I threw a wobbly this morning and made them have a break!’ Jenny grinned cheerfully, her eyes dancing with amusement. ‘Ian’s been like a bear with two sore heads and Rupe’s heading for a heart attack if he doesn’t slow down. So I threatened them. I’d turn into a nagging woman if they didn’t have the day off.’

‘Why didn’t you go too?’ queried Frances.

‘I’d have liked to if I wasn’t so preggie,’ Jenny chuckled. ‘However, I’m happy having a rest from housework. I’ve given Rupe instructions to catch a salmon, so I hope he does.’

‘What about Ian? Does he like fishing?’ Frances asked lightly.

‘Yes and no. Most of the time he prefers his boat. He took it down this morning. It’s a jet boat,’ Jenny explained, seeing Frances’ puzzled look.

‘How super! They look madly exciting the way they skim over the water.’

‘Have you ever been for a ride, Frances?

‘Never—I’d love to experience it.’

‘I’ll get Ian to take you one day. It’s great fun exploring a big river like the Rakaia. I think the best part is the Gorge where the cliffs rise so steeply. Actually Ian’s quite keen on exploring the major rivers of the South Island. He’s already done several from mouth to source. You should get him talking about it, he’s quite entertaining on the subject. If he ever gets married I hope his wife will like boating and rivers or poor old Ian will be confined to the Rakaia!’

Jenny continued chatting as Frances drank her tea. Well, at least she knew now that Ian wasn’t married, and the knowledge warmed her.

They put the dishes into the machine and Frances helped prepare the vegetables for dinner. ‘Let’s go and give the garden a shock,’ said Jenny. ‘It’s far too nice to spend time inside.’

Frances found some gardening tools and some old gardening gloves. The gardens were Jenny’s delight, and in a few years when the trees were mature it would be even better. One or two gums planted well back from the house were quite big already and a row of silver birches lined the driveway. There were a lot of specimen trees too, which were slower growing, and Frances recognised liquid ambers, limes and walnut as well as several copper beech trees. In one comer was a very unusual copper beech, and Jenny acknowledged her interest. ‘Yes, it is rather special, A weeping variety—or if you want the full botanical splendour, fagus sylvatica purpurea pendula!’

‘Heavens!’ chortled Frances, ‘the name’s bigger than the tree. How do you remember them?’

‘Well, I suppose I picked it up as a child. Gam is nuts about trees and of course Mum and Dad were keen too. Growing up at Coppers, trees form such a natural surrounding I would be lost without them. You haven’t been to Coppers yet, have you?’

‘Is that where you grew up? No wonder you know the trees’ names! It looks a magnificent old homestead from the road.’

‘You’re right, of course! But I look at my nice modem house and know I’d rather have it. Cleaning Coppers is a real drag.’ Jenny laughed, surprised to see the look on Frances’ face.

‘I love old houses—I can’t agree with you, Jenny. There’s so much character in old houses you can’t get in modem homes.’

'Phooey!’ snorted Jenny. ‘You try keeping house in one of them for six months and see how much you appreciate character then! Plus all the maintenance work Ian has to do! One thing I will concede, the rooms are much larger. Our bedroom would be about the size of Ian’s dressing room. My ancestors had grandiose ideas of space! Ask Ian to show you his bedroom.’ Her eye caught Frances’ blush and the two laughed delightedly! ‘No, on second thoughts that wouldn’t be the right thing, would it?’

Privately Frances agreed with her. So many puzzling things fell into place. As owner of Coppers Ian would have considerable appeal for women who would see him as an eligible bachelor. Add to that his extraordinary good looks and his animal magnetism and Frances mellowed slightly in her attitude to him. He had been plagued by women, she guessed, and he had obviously written her off as one chasing after him prepared to use any feminine wiles. She seized a healthy dandelion and pulled at it, glad to be able to hide her blushing cheeks. She decided to keep to her original idea of keeping out of his way. It must be more important than ever. With a final heave the dandelion gave way and she flipped over on her back. Jenny and Frances both laughed and cunningly Frances diverted her with a question about Thad, knowing Jenny would only be too happy to talk about her sons.

After lunch Jenny went for her rest and Frances went on with the gardening. She worked steadily and felt pleased with her efforts by the time the boys came home from school. They were overjoyed with the sweets she had bought them and wanted to ride down to show their father their wonderful new false teeth. Frances helped them saddle their mounts and admired their youthful skill. They waved a cheerful farewell and turned their horses towards the river.

Peace descended again, so Frances went inside and prepared tea. She had seen some gooseberry bushes in the garden and had picked quite a sizeable pile of the small green globules. Deftly she whipped up some pastry, scalloping the edge neatly. With the pie in the oven she went and showered, slipping into a cool cream linen dress. She had a copper brooch and bracelet she liked to wear with the dress and fastened them on. Her hair glistened as she clipped it firmly back from her face. She would deliberately hide her crowning glory, she decided. She wound a strip of emerald green silk into a turban enclosing the sparkling gold. Suddenly she decided not to wear the copper jewellery. Ian might connect it with some desire on her part to be noticed. She took it off and stared at herself in the mirror. Well, she had done her best not to look seductive, she thought, blissfully unaware that her eyes now reflected the green of the scarf and that her figure in the superbly tailored dress appeared slim and lovely.

She went out to the kitchen and removed the pie from the oven as the boys came running in, tumbling over the doorway like a group of puppies. ‘We had a ride with Uncle Ian!’ said Greg, getting the first word in and kissing his mother rapturously as she laid the table.

‘I drove it, Mum,' said Thad proudly.

‘It’s not fair! Uncle Ian said he could drive it because he worked so hard when the shearers were here. If Dad had let me stay home I would have been just as good,’ Ivan whined.

‘That’s enough of that, young man!’ His father, hearing his complaint, spoke sternly. ‘Wash first, then dinner! Oh, Ian, there’s plenty here if you want to stay.’

‘Fine. I must admit, Sis, that I’d enjoy eating here tonight. Can I smell gooseberry pie?’ Ian smiled at his sister.

Frances turned away. The last thing she wanted was to face Ian. She beat up some cream, deliberately making the task take a long time so she would not be forced into joining the family group. Unfortunately the cream was in danger of being over-beaten before she heard Rupe and Ian slip down to the bathroom!

At dinner that night she carefully joined the three younger boys on one side. Jenny suggested Ivan sit beside his uncle and his good temper was restored by this singular honour. For Frances the meal was not a relaxed one. She was conscious throughout of Ian’s presence opposite her and to lift her eyes to face that enigmatic gaze required considerable courage. Oddly enough she enjoyed receiving his thoroughly boyish praise for the gooseberry pie. After the meal she helped Jenny tidy up, then excused herself to write letters. Jenny seemed a little disappointed, but Frances was determined not to intrude. It was significant that it was Ian’s presence that made her feel like that.

She said goodnight to everyone generally and went straight to her room. She wrote a letter to Harry to give him her address, then sealed and stamped the envelope. She slipped into the hall to put it on the mail table; the boys would put it into the letterbox in the morning.

Slowly the evening passed. Frances would have liked to have gone for a run in the cool night air, but she was determined to stay inside. Her bed seemed to be the only place to go, even if it was ridiculously early.

In the morning Frances helped Rupert clean up the woolshed. It was hot and dirty work all day and she was conscious she had never looked and smelled so horrible in her life. She had a lengthy shower, scrubbing herself thoroughly and washing her hair until her scalp tingled and prickled. Knowing Ian was not expected, she put on a soft blue dress with the copper jewellery and was rewarded with Ivan’s, ‘Gee, you look nice!’ She stayed up to watch television, Greg curled up in one corner, his elder brothers having taken themselves to bed much earlier.

‘You smell nice,’ he whispered quietly, and Frances cuddled his slim form closer. When he fell asleep beside her Rupe gently picked him up and carried him to bed.

'Tomorrow we’ll have a party here—oh, just ourselves and Gam and Ian, of course. We celebrate the end of shearing. The trucks come tomorrow to take the wool away, so it’s the end of a lot of work. We all dress up and I cook a special meal and it’s rather fun!’

Rupert and Frances went round the sheep together in the morning. He showed her again how the irrigation worked and watched as she manoeuvred the peg into position. Confident she could manage that, they went round the paddocks, Rupe pointing out factors to watch.

In the afternoon Frances helped Jenny prepare some of the delicacies for the meal. Already the goose was simmering gently in the oven and neatly wrapped in shining foil lay a generous portion of smoked salmon which had been frozen earlier. She set the formal dining table, making tiny sprays for Gam and Jenny of miniature pink rosebuds and fern. Happily she found a crystal bowl and filled it with tiny flowers, arranging them to form a neat low ball with the green fern forming a delicate tracery.

When the boys arrived home from school they hurried through their homework and did their chores quickly before their swim. Afterwards they climbed into their Sunday best shorts and shirts and, faces gleaming, hung round the kitchen appreciatively sniffing. Finally Jenny threw them into the lounge to watch television while Frances and she changed. Jenny wore the pretty dark blue tiered dress and Frances selected one of her old favourites, a silky-soft green-toned dress. Its tiny ribbon straps led across her shoulders, the bodice was fitted to the waist, the skirt flaring gently to mid-calf. She hadn’t worn it at the farm, although she had used it regularly in town. It took her longer than usual to dress; perversely tonight she really wanted to look beautiful. She selected an old pendant with a fine gold chain and placed it in position. It was an exquisite piece with aquamarines and seed pearls which had belonged to her grandmother. She dressed her hair into an upswept style with deeply curving curls around her face swooping into a waterfall of curls at the back. When she had finished dressing she felt a small pride in knowing she looked as nice as possible. It gave her confidence that she could spend the evening in Ian’s company without spoiling it for Jenny, Rupe and the boys.

As she walked out to the lounge an appreciative silence greeted her appearance.

Rupe came over and took her to meet Gam. It was easy to see the relationship to Jenny and Ian in the tall, brown-haired woman. She spoke quietly to Frances, explaining that Gam had been her title for years. ‘I’m actually Thad, Ivan and Greg’s Great-Aunt Matilda, but that’s rather a long name for small children! Their grandfather was my big brother, and he was a real darling of a man. I was very much of a surprise gift to the family and was spoilt outrageously. When I finished at university I went overseas, met Ricardo and lived in Italy for twenty years. When Ricardo died I came home to Coppers.’

‘And thank God for that,’ said Ian, approaching them with a drink for Gam. He enquired what Frances would like to drink, and politely poured her a dry sherry. When their hands met over the stem of the crystal glass Frances stiffened involuntarily and knew Ian saw her reaction. Deliberately she turned away from him and questioned Gam about life in Italy, a subject she hoped Gam was happy to talk about.

The meal was superb—first the apple and orange juice, followed by an oyster cocktail and to the delight of all the smoked salmon served with a creamy tangy sauce and the main dish, the big goose, bought steaming to the table. The three little boys were wide-eyed with the splendour of the feast and with being allowed a taste of the various light wines. The meal was pleasantly entertaining. Gam was a natural raconteur and she told many stories of previous ‘wool away’ occasions. As well, she kept them all laughing with highlights of her recent trip to a conservationists’ conference, gently mimicking the characteristics of several well-known folk. It did not hide her deep knowledge and love of her pet field, and now that she knew Gam’s surname Frances recognised her as a nationally known lecturer on trees and conservation.