WALK IN THE SHADOWS
Jayne Bauling Nicola's missionary streak had got her into hot water more than once, and never more...
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WALK IN THE SHADOWS
Jayne Bauling Nicola's missionary streak had got her into hot water more than once, and never more so than on the occasion when young Denise Graeme persuaded her to pretend to be having an affair with a married man, so that Denise's fiancé Barak Sorensen wouldn't realise that Denise was the real culprit. Needless to say, the whole thing gave Barak the lowest opinion of Nicola, but at least she need never meet him again. Or so she thought—until she went up to a farm in the Transvaal to work and found that Barak Sorensen was the man in charge...
Mills Et Boon
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ISBN 0 263 7301 5 8
WALK IN THE SHADOWS BY
JAYNE BAULING
MILLS & BOON LIMITED 17-19 FOLEY STREET LONDON W1A 1DR
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the Author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the Author, and all the incidents are pure invention. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent, purchaser. First published 1978 Australian copyright 1979 Philippine copyright 1979 This edition 1979 (1) Jayne - Bauling 1978
ISBN 0 263 73015 8.
Set in Linotype Plantin 11 on
121
pt
Made and printed in Great Britain by Richard Clay (The Chaucer Press), Ltd., Bungay, Suffolk
CHAPTER ONE
you've got to help me!' The voice was young and breathless, but the cool hand grasping her arm didn't tremble. Nicola Prenn spun round to confront the person who implored her help. The girl was a stranger to her, as were so many of the people thronging her father's house this evening, waiting to see the New Year in. She suspected that many of them would be strangers to her father too. `What is it? she asked. She had slipped away to the veranda, finding the noise and heat inside overwhelming, hoping for solitude, only to be accosted in this way with a demand for help. She studied the girl who stood under the yellow lantern. Very young; certainly not more than eighteen, Nicola thought. The voice that had beseeched her aid had held tragic appeal, yet the face she looked into was smooth and expressionless. It was a very beautiful face, with the short, straight nose and unblinking tawny eyes : framed by the silky mane of hair, it was the face of a young lioness, Nicola thought fancifully. She was conscious of her own face seeming overmade-up beside the subtle colouring the girl had used to enhance her tawny beauty, but the heavy make-up had been applied with deliberate intent. Nicola's skin was one which paled drastically in extreme heat; and today had been very hot, without a breath of wind to `PLEASE,
5
6 WALK IN THE SHADOWS ease the stifling humidity. In the afternoon, thick black clouds had rolled across the heavens and, hearing the distant rumble of thunder, she had thought thankfully that they were in for one of their spectacular high veld storms, but the clouds had drifted away, diminished by the heat, and by the time she had started to prepare for her father's party, her hazel eyes had provided the only bit of colour in her white face. So she had used a heavy hand with the make-up and had put on one of her skimpiest dresses in an attempt to keep cool, and now she was being made to feel over-made-up and under-dressed by a willowy teenager. Nicola frowned slightly, waiting to hear what the girl had to say. `It's my fiancé, you see,' was the explanation. 'He's followed me here—I suppose my parents told him where I'd gone. I've just seen him come in. It won't be so bad if he thinks I'm on my own, just looking for a bit of fun, but if he suspects that I came with Todd, I'll be in real trouble. He knows Todd, and doesn't approve of him at all.' Nicola's eyes narrowed. 'Would that be Todd Baxter?' she enquired. =Yes, do you know him?' `Slightly.' He was an acquaintance of her father's—hanger-on would be a more appropriate term, Nicola thought cynically. Robert Prenn was a generous-hearted man, giving his friends a good time, and Todd Baxter was always ready to take advantage of that open-handed generosity. She had met him once or twice when he had called on her father, but she hadn't known he was here tonight She knew that there was a wife some,
7 where in the background, and she felt sorry for the woman who was left without her husband, even on New Year's Eve. Nicola didn't care for Todd. It wasn't so much that he was evidently unfaithful to his wife; it was the way he mocked her, making people laugh at her expense, that caused Nicola to despise the man She wondered if this girl knew he was married. `It's all the better if you know Todd,' the girl continued after a moment's thought. 'I don't know who you are, but I noticed earlier that you seemed to be on your own, so you won't mind helping me, will you?' `That depends on what you want me to do,' Nicola said carefully. It was an odd situation; being required to help someone who was a total stranger to her. `It's this; just pretend you're with Todd for a few minutes. Then my fiancé will think that if Todd is with you, I've been on my own for the evening, although he'll know Todd brought me here. That way, he won't have too much to be angry about ... just my going off to search of some fun,' the girl added with a smile, and her young face was suddenly curiously mature. Eve, Nicola thought inconsequentially. What was this child-woman trying to do? Perhaps this fiancé was older and had outgrown the need for the gaiety that would seem all-important to someone of eighteen. Eighteen—it was young to be engaged. At that age I imagined myself in love with someone new every month, Nicola thought idly. I'd have been horrified at the thought of anything as permanent as a fiancé. Perhaps this girl found the permanency chafed too? ` Why should I help you?' she asked curiously. `Please ! You must,' came the reply, and the desperWALK IN THE SHADOWS
8 WALK IN THE SHADOWS ate young urgency had returned to the girl. She made a dramatic gesture. 'He'll be so furious with me if he thinks I've been with Todd all evening. Please help me by pretending Todd is your partner. It only requires a few minutes' play-acting. I'll tell Todd—he'll under_ stand.' She wasn't trying to make the fiancé jealous, then. Perhaps her coming to the party had been born of a natural need to have some fun and she was now finding herself in deep water. Nicola was used to assisting people, for the simple reason that she couldn't bear to see anyone in trouble, so she said, 'All right.' It couldn't matter, after all. Todd was an acquaintance of her father's, and she would probably never meet the girl and her fiancé again. The girl obviously cared about maintaining her relationship with the man, so she would give her assistance and just hope that this fright would prevent her from getting into trouble again. `Thank you,' the girl breathed, her tawny eyes sparkling. 'You're a darling ! Now listen, my fiancé hasn't seen me yet, so I'll just pop in and tell Todd what we're going to do, and you can follow in a minute and take him off somewhere as if he was your exclusive property.' `Heaven forbid if he really was,' Nicola said as the girl left the veranda to return indoors, moving with feline grace. She had the tall, slim figure of a model. An intriguing character really, the older girl thought. There would be an inborn canniness there. The girl would know how to avoid trouble. She was a quick thinker.
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 9 Nicola smoothed her auburn hair. In a minute she would go inside. She hoped she would be able to find Todd easily. She glanced at her watch. Another hour to go before they would welcome in the New Year. She wondered what it would hold for her. She couldn't think of anything she wanted desperately. She was fairly contented with her life as it was; she had many friends and she enjoyed her painting. Nicola knew how lucky she was. Although her mother had died when she was still a toddler, she had had a happy childhood, brought up in Natal by her maternal grandparents while her father found solace in his painting, travelling round South Africa and its neighbouring countries, constantly seeking new scenery to which the artist in him could respend. What a way to spend New Year's Eve ! Nicola thought as she prepared to leave the peaceful veranda : first wilting and bored among a crowd of people who were mostly strangers; now manoeuvred into playing a devious game for the sake of a young woman who was probably eminently capable of looking after herself. So different from Christmas which they had spent with her mother's family in Natal. Her brother Clive and his young wife had come down from Rhodesia and there had been only the family present to share the festivities. But by Boxing Day, Robert Prenn had been tired of the green South Coast and its gentle scenery, and Nicola had returned with him to the house in northern Johannesburg which was within easy reach of the Magaliesberg, that range which had inspired all Robert's most dramatic paintings.
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Nicola entered the house reluctantly, narrowing het eyes against the haze of smoke which hung over the big lounge. Chatter and laughter, some of it unnaturally high-pitched, assaulted her ears as she looked about for Todd Baxter. She saw her father,' his bushy hair standing wildly on end, his outstretched arms gesturing expressively as he argued vigorously with a fellowartist who was his greatest rival and best friend. He ignored her as she passed him and Nicola smiled ruefully. Robert was well away and if the argument remained -unsettled it midnight, he would continue with it, happily forgoing the traditional New Year celebrations. This was a ridiculous situation in which she had involved herself, she realised as she caught sight of Todd and started to make her way towards him. She should have told the girl to get herself out of the trouble she had made for herself instead of calling on a stranger to do it for her. But it wasn't in Nicola to refuse a plea for help, however distasteful she might find the activities involved in giving it. Her father called it her missionary streak, and it had led her into hot water more than once in the past. Nicola sighed. She only hoped the girl had warned Todd of what was forthcoming. Feeling rather foolish, she laid a hand on his arm and smiled up at the man who was an occasional visitor when Robert Prenn was at home. Nicola had little experience of acting and the action was an effort, so she hoped the wrathful fiancé was watching. That would make it worthwhile. `Ah, Nicola!' Todd Baxter returned her smile, im-
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prisoning the hand she had placed on his arm. 'Denise didn't tell me it would be you.' `Is that her name? I don't think she knows who I am,' Nicola replied, still smiling over-brightly in case the fiancé was looking on. `She picked the right person anyway,' Todd said appreciatively. 'In more ways than one. Your father has spoken of your inability to leave well alone.' `And of course I had to be in on this, once the situation was made known to me,' Nicola said with a mixture of rue and coldness. She found it impossible to like the man, but for the sake, of the girl's relationship with her fiancé ... Todd released her hand and slipped an arm about her waist. It cost Nicola a great deal to refrain from recoiling visibly. It wasn't that Todd Baxter was in any way physically repulsive : he was moderately presentable, a man of about thirty with light brown eyes and floppy brown hair; but she couldn't forget some of the cruel things he had said about his wife. If a man left his wife, Nicola believed he ought to redeem. the action by having the courtesy never to run her down in front of other people. But of course, Todd hadn't permanently left his wife. 'I can't afford to,' he had said once. 'She holds the purse-strings.' `This is an unexpected bonus,' he was telling her now. 'I think it's a favourable omen for the New Year.' `Where do we go from here?' Nicola. demanded, wholly unresponsive to the charm he was attempting to employ. 'We can't continue smiling inanely at each other, with your arm draped around my waist. We must look ridiculous. Won't this Denise's fiancé be
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satisfied with the picture we've already presented?' `Oh, not yet,' Todd said quickly. 'I want him to be fully convinced that I'm with you. If he thinks Denise and I ... I don't want to get on the wrong side of him any more than I can help.' 'Are you scared of him?' Nicola asked scornfully. `Yes, and so would you be if you met him So you want to know where we go from here? Straight back to the veranda from which you've just come,' Todd advised. 'What a girl like you was doing alone in that romantic setting, I can't think, but allow me to remedy that. The situation warrants it. We make an ostentatious exit—together.' `Not too ostentatious,' Nicola cautioned. 'Let's hope the fiancé has his eye on us and comes to the desired conclusion. I shouldn't like all this to be wasted.' `It won't be, I promise you,' Todd told her, and Nicola felt uneasy. She allowed him to keep his arm about her as they headed for the veranda. He carried a half-full glass in his free hand. If her father saw this exit, an explanation would be demanded of her, she felt sure, because although Robert never interfered in her life, she knew that while he tolerated Baxter as a visitor to the house, he would never call the man 'friend'. Looking back as they went out on to the verandah, she caught sight of the girl whom Todd had called Denise. She was with a tall man, but Nicola couldn't tell if he was watching them or not. Once qutside, Todd put his glass down on the veranda table and attempted to draw Nicola into his arms, but she evaded him. 'Oh no, Todd. No one is watching us now, and I haven't done this for your
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benefit, but for the sake of that girl who was obviously worried about the construction her fiancé might put on her being here when you're around. Why did you bring her? She's not much more than a child.' Todd laughed. 'My dear Nicola, Denise Graeme might be eighteen to your—what is it, twenty-three? But she's much older than you in many ways. She's all woman, while you're as naive as they come. But never mind, I like you very much.' `What am I supposed to do? Swoon into your arms after your last thrilling remark?' Nicola retorted sarcastically. She didn't relish being told she was naive. `You've got a sharp tongue,' Todd commented. Again he put his arms about her and this time Nicola was unable to avoid him, finding the wall behind her. She glared furiously at him and his face was alien in the yellow lighting She was surprised by his persistence tonight. He had never taken much notice of her before. But then he had never seen her so made-up, or wearing such a scanty dress before. She had always been in the jeans she wore for working when he had previously called op her father. `You could ruin this girl's engagement,' she couldn't resist admonishing him Nicola Prenn, who wanted to see everybody's lives -turn out as 'satisfactorily as her own had done. `I don't think she'd allow me to do so,' Todd said, drawing her closer to him, and Nicola found it impossible to break free of his clasp. `And what about your wife?' she demanded after struggling vainly for a while. She felt an urge to slap him when he laughed and
14 WALK IN THE SHADOWS stated, 'Oh, Hilary keeps me in the style to which I'm accustomed.' He released her abruptly as a sound came from behind him. Mortified, Nicola stared at the willowy Denise Graeme and the tall, powerfully built man beside her. He possessed a satanic darkness of hair and skin, so that the ice-grey eyes presented an almost frightening contrast, and it was those eyes rather than anything else about him which drew the attention. A slow smile softened the girl's expressionless features. 'As you can see, darling, Todd has concerns of his own. I'm sure he's cursing our intrusion,' she added on a light gurgle of laughter, drawing closer to her fiancé. `As I can see,' the man echoed her sardonically. The grey eyes were contemptuous, flicking over Nicola and returning to Todd, who looked distinctly uncomfortable. If she hadn't been so embarrassed herself, Nicola might have laughed. What a classic situation! `Didn't expect to see you here tonight,' Todd addressed the man awkwardly. `Evidently,' was the coldly indifferent reply. 'However, you needn't let my presence worry you. Denise and I will be leaving in a minute. I just wanted to as sure myself of something.' He had wanted to make sure that Todd was too fully occupied to have bothered with Denise, Nicola deduced. She wished the pair of them would go away— and Todd too. Denise smiled at her. 'You needn't worry about us; we know how to keep our mouths shut.'
15 `Thanks,' Todd muttered, and Nicola, blushing, could have screamed. The fiancé's interpretation of the situation was just as she and the girl. had planned it should be, but she resented it nevertheless, particularly with those occasional appraising glances that the grey eyes sent her way. Once again she was conscious of the sight she must look, especially beside the cool good taste of Denise Graeme. `Shall we go, darling?' Denise asked, slipping her arm through the man's. 'They can't want us here. I'm afraid I can't thank our hosts because I don't know who they are. You know how it is at these parties.' `I do,' the man agreed. 'And I've already thanked your host on your behalf; he's Robert Prenn.' How high-handed, Nicola thought. In Denise's place, she would resent that. The artist?' `Yes.' `And I didn't even meet him,' the girl said regret' fully. Neither of them appeared to know that Nicola was Robert Prenn's daughter, and she said nothing, remaining as mute as Todd, who was standing helplessly beside her. `Let's get away from here,' Denise's fiancé suggested, making it clear that he found the company out here distasteful. The couple turned, then the man glanced back to address Nicola : 'I might have been tempted to give you a gentle warning, but judging by what I overheard just now, you haven't any illusions about what you're doing.' WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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They were gone, a beautiful young girl and an overwhelmingly scornful man, leaving Nicola clenching her fists. She had never felt so humiliated in her life. How much had they overheard before she and Todd had become aware of the pair's presence? She tried to recollect ... Nicola's mouth turned down ruefully. Her last words to Todd had been the traditional question women had put to men down the ages : 'What about your wife?' `Well! Thank goodness they've gone,' Todd murmured now, putting a hand out towards her. 'Darling, weren't we embarrassed!' Nicola turned on him, her hazel eyes blazing. 'I've had enough, Todd. I've done what was asked of me, and Miss Graeme's fiancé came to the desired conclusion. I'm going in now. You'd better accompany me in case they're still about, but after that we're separating and I'm staying well away from you. You make cruel fun of your wife, but you've the hypocrisy to be grateful to someone who offers to remain discreet about your present activities. Why the muttered thanks to the girl otherwise?' `Hilary keeps me very comfortably,' Todd Baxter drawled. 'She knows why I married her, but I don't want her to know anything else. She might turn the tap off out of spite if she did.' `You married one woman for her money and enjoy spending it on others,' Nicola said coldly. `Be your age, darling. Men do that, you know.' Nicola drew away from him in disgust. 'I've often, thought deserted wives were vindictive, but perhaps
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 17 they have just cause for it,' she told him icily. 'I certainly wouldn't think any the worse of your wife if she did turn off the tap. In fact, I'd applaud her.' She turned abruptly and went back into the house, forgetting in her anger that she had suggested that they enter together. However, it didn't matter, she realised when she had calmed down a little. Denise and her fiancé were nowhere to be seen, so they had obviously left. It was not merely Todd's callous attitude towards his wife that made Nicola so furious—after all, the unknown wife might enjoy a life of her own as Todd did —but the fact that she had looked such a fool when the couple had come out to the veranda. Oh well, it was unlikely that she would ever meet them again, and she hoped Todd Baxter would keep away from her father's home in future. Nevertheless, Nicola continued to burn with humiliation. The memory of the girl's creamy smile and the man's cold glance continued to torment her. Nicola joined her father and remained close to him until after they had seen the New Year in, trying to lose herself in the discussion on Matisse. But as soon as the noisy gathering had hilariously exchanged New Year wishes and kisses, Nicola retired to her own part of the house. She had a tiny flatlet which her father had had added to the building when her brother Clive had married while still a student and had required a place where he and his young wife could set up home without too much expense. Nicola had been the occupant for three years now, ever since Clive had qualified and taken a post in Bulawayo, while Alison continued her studies through Unisa.
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On reaching her room, Nicola immediately removed her make-up. The improvement was startling, although she remained pale as a result of the relentless heat which continued well into the night. She appraised her reflection as she stood before the full-length mirror. She was of medium height and she had a slim figure. Pretty average all round, she thought wistfully, and then wondered why that should be so. It was the girl Denise, of course, she realised almost immediately, for Nicola had always been honest with herself. Denise had a flawless beauty coupled with a flowing grace of movement, and two men had wanted to spend New Year's Eve in her company; the fiancé and Todd Baxter. The fiancé was too supercilious by far, and as for Todd ... But she, Nicola, had no one. That was nonsense, of course; she had plenty of warm friends, both men and women, but she had elected to attend her father's spur-of-the-moment party instead of accepting other invitations, and if she had been surrounded by strangers tonight, it was her own fault. But she couldn't regret her decision—her father had wanted her there. Robert Prenn set great store on the family unit and she knew that he had missed Clive and Alison since they had moved to Rhodesia. Nicola continued her assessment of her reflection. She saw- a girl whose experimental movements contained an angular grace, cultivated as the result of childhood filled with mishaps caused by a tendency to move with a freedom which had been better suited to the open beaches than her grandparents' small house. Perhaps that was why most of her painting, like her father's, was given to nature. With four walls around
19 her, Nicola always found a measure of restraint to be necessary. Moving, painting ... everything. She examined herself critically. Her long silky hair was a rich shade of auburn and slightly untidy at the moment, surrounding a face which was just a little too positively drawn for prettiness. Wide hazel eyes stared back at her dispassionately from the glass, fringed with dark spiky lashes, while the tan she had acquired this summer, deepened by the brief -holiday in Natal, was robbed of its healthiness by ,her present pallor. Her cheekbones were high, below hollow temples, and her nose was straight. It was too bony a face, she decided with dissatisfaction. She didn't like her mouth either; she found it such an ordinary feature, failing to discover the allure of a slight sensuousness in the gentle curve of her lips. Her smile, as she turned away from the mirror and headed for her bathroom, was self-conscious. Contemplating herself in this way was an occupation foreign to Nicola. She vas more used to seeking beauty in rocks and expanses of veld than in people's faces, particularly her own. She recognised this divergence for what it was; Denise Graeme had been so beautiful. She probably made all other women feel - dissatisfied with themselves. Nicola had never been envious of anyone in her life, not even the girls whose lives had held the one thing lacking in her own : a mother. Because all those mothers, warmly caring and comfortable though they might be, weren't Ruth Prenn, and if Nicola sometimes needed a mother, it had to be her own, although she remembered little of her. But she knew she was coming dangerously close to WALK IN THE SHADOWS
20 WALK IN THE SHADOWS envy now, when she thought of Denise Graeme—and it was going to be difficult not to think of her, Nicola realised as she got into bed after a quick shower. The humiliation she had experienced this evening would make her kick the sheets for nights to come. She was sensible enough to know it couldn't matter. The likelihood of her ever meeting the couple again was very remote. Nevertheless, the memory of a pair of icegrey eyes regarding her scornfully continued -to make her burn with mingled resentment and mortification. She was haunted by a dark, powerfully built man, scorn expressed in every strong feature, and beside him, the girl who had been the cause of the whole embarrassing situation. She ought to make a New Year resolution never to allow herself to be inveigled into assisting anyone again, Nicola thought wryly as she pulled the top sheet over her. But that was an impossibility, the knowledge came to her as she sleepily recalled the many occasions when she had felt herself obliged to help people out of awkward situations—usually ending up in a further awkward situation herself ... like tonight. With her experience of trouble, she ought to have learnt to leave well alone ... She rose early the following morning. It was too uncomfortable, lying in bed in the steamy heat which was even more persistently energy-sapping than the previous day's sizzling weather. Consequently, she spent most of the morning in the sparkling blue kidneyshaped swimming pool which her father had insisted on having built and now claimed was the ugliest thing he had ever set eyes on. It might detract from the
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rambling beauty of the garden, but it was infinitely welcome on such a day, Nicola thought. The sky was veiled by a white haze of heat, and hopes of a storm coming to relieve the intensity of the day were faint. She was grateful for the fact that she wouldn't have to cook a full-scale New Year dinner for her father and herself. They had been invited to dine with friends who lived out at Honeydew. When the time came for them to leave, she changed into a thin dress and put on a pair of strappy sandals. It was too hot for anything smarter, and even jewellery cluttering her person would only serve to irritate her on such a day. Her hair had dried immediately she had left the pool and now she tied it back at the nape of her neck with a thin scarf. Before leaving, her father invited her into the room he had turned into a private den for himself. It led off his untidy studio, and Nicola was conscious of the honour he accorded her by asking her to come through. Not even his closest friends were allowed into Robert Prenn's hideaway, and Nicola could count on one hand the occasions she had been requested to join him there in the three years she had lived in the same house. Robert provided his daughter with a gin and tonic and helped himself to a beer, and they settled down in the comfortable armchairs he had chosen for his room. Hobert looked across at his daughter as he raised his glass. 'The hottest day of the year so far,' he commented. `The only day of the year so far,' Nicola laughed. `I think it will be a good year for us both, my darling daughter,' Robert said. 'I feel it.'
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`Then it will be,' she replied. 'You believe you have a divine right to happiness, don't you?' `I suppose people who've met with success often start to feel like that,' he said thoughtfully. 'But it doesn't always work out.' `I wonder if I'll ever feel that way.' `Perhaps. But you lack arrogance, Nicola. I worry about you sometimes. You're not ... eaten by fire.' `Of course not. I haven't your genius.' `That's a strong term.' `Do you think I'm flattering you, Dad? You ought to know better. But I'll never give . up my painting, so maybe I am devoured—just a little.' `You'll never give it up, no. But I can see it taking second place in your life.' `Not in the near future anyway,' Nicola said with a smile. 'I'm content to drift awhile yet. I'm very happy.' `Touching heaven?' She shook her head. 'I'll amend that and say that I'm contented. I don't think I want anything more. I don't like life to be too exciting.' `I do.' `Everything excites you, Dad; a tree, a rock ... maybe you're the lucky one and not me.' It was true. Robert Preen had never lost a youthful capacity for wonder. He pondered her words in silence for a while, and Nicola studied him with affectionate eyes. `Did you enjoy the party?' he asked suddenly, staring at Nicola very hard. She smiled her special diplomatic smile, knowing she had no hope of fooling him, and said, 'Yes, thank you.'
23 `I thought not,' her father said, sounding satisfied. 'I saw you with that chap Baxter—what were you playing at?' Nicola sighed. It was something she desperately wanted to forget. 'Playing is right ! Or play-acting. I was helping out an idiot eighteen-year-old who apparently hadn't realised until last night that running two men at once can lead to trouble.' `Poor Nick, you do get yourself involved,' Robert chuckled. He swallowed some beer. 'But I seem to remember your trying the same thing at eighteen yourself.' `So I did. That's youth for you. You leave school and it goes to your head, but no one I tried two-timing was my fiancé,' she told him. Nor was there .ever a married man, unless you've not been as honest as I've always believed you to be,' her father added. 'I don't like the way Baxter talks about his wife.' `Neither do I, and I was always honest with you, Dad,' said Nicola. She had had no secrets from her father. He had always been told about the men she went out with, the ones who were friends, and the few who had been in love with her. She had imagined herself in love often, but the spark had been repeatedly snuffed, so that by now she had learnt to recognise infatuation. `I'm glad,' Robert said. He paused. 'I wanted to talk to you. Nicola, I have a commission for you.' `Dad!' Nicola sounded reproachful. Her father was welcome to criticise her work and he often did so, wholly unmerciful in his strictures, but there was an WALK IN THE SHADOWS
24 WALK IN THE SHADOWS unspoken agreement between them that she should go her own way, accepting no help from him, making her way up alone. `No, listen, darling,' he said hastily. 'I want you to accept this. It means going to the Northern Transvaal —the Soutpansberg and the Piesanghoek area. You know how I've always said you ought to see that part of the country. Look at that picture here—Blaauberg —though that's not really near Piesanghoek. Some years ago I spent a wonderful few months in that area. Incredibly beautiful country.' `Then why don't you take this commission, whatever it is?' Nicola demanded. He shook his head. 'I feel it's something you should try.' She asked, 'What is it?' `A portrait', Robert sounded sheepish, as well he might, Nicola thought. `Dad!' She was even more reproachful this time. `You know I can't do portraits. I don't like them any more than you do. My efforts in that line have resulted in paint on canvas, and nothing more. I can't capture character—any portrait I attempt turns out to be insipid. I've never felt an urge to paint anyone. I don't think I like human beings much. I prefer mountains.' `Then you'll be the poorer for that,' Robert said firmly. 'Listen, Nicola, I've accepted on your behalf. This man, Sorensen, was at the party last night—' he broke off. 'Nicola, why are there always so many strangers at my parties?' `You should be. used to it by now. Friends bring other friends,' Nicola said. ,
25 `I suppose so. Anyway, Sorensen said his old uncle had expressed a wish to have me do his portrait.' `How vain!' Nicola snapped. `Maybe. Anyway, I told Sorensen that I couldn't do the painting, but he seemed agreeable when I told him you would do it. He said his uncle might be annoyed at not getting the artist he particularly wanted, but that he'd come round in the end.' `Charming! And I suppose you conveniently forgot to mention that your daughter is no more a portraitist than you are?' `It didn't seem necessary. If the old chap can't have Robert Prenn, then he'll probably regard another Prenn as the next best thing. And even if you do make a mess of it, they'll pay you well. They can afford to,' Robert added drily. 'You will accept, won't you, darling?' Nicola laughed. 'I suppose so. It won't waste too ' much of my time, even if it is a failure, and if you think I ought to visit the Soutpansberg region ... do they have a farm there?' `Yes, avocados. They do very well. It's the nephew's farm. Old Traugott Sorensen had a citrus farm in the Nelspruit area but sold it when he retired. He only had a daughter, and neither she nor her husband wanted it, and the nephew had already inherited this avocado place from his father—Traugott's brother.' `Did the nephew tell you all this last night?' Robert shook his head. 'Some of it I heard when I was up in the Soutpansberg. They're much talked about up there. I never met them then, of course. The entire family were on an overseas pilgrimage, visiting WALK IN THE SHADOWS
26 WALK IN THE SHADOWS the places their forebears had come from, during the time I was there, and there was only a manager on the farm.' `Sorensen? That's a Scandinavian name, isn't it?' she said. `Danish, to be more specific,' Robert said. `Traugott Sorensen is half Danish, half German, but he calls himself a South African. He's the youngest and only surviving son—he had nine brothers—of a Lutheran medical-missionary, Olaf Sorensen, who came out from Denmark in the last century.' `You don't get families of that size these days,' Nicola commented. `Traugott must be pretty old if his parents came out in the last century.' `In his seventies, I think,' her father said, setting his glass down on the small table beside him. 'There was a big gap between the first eight sons and Einer and Traugott—so great a gap, in fact, that those two never really knew their brothers well at all. They were the only ones who went into farming and there was always a strong link between them. Barek, the nephew who was here last night, was Einer's older son and as his younger brother wasn't interested in the land, Barak inherited his entire property.' `And is it Barak or his uncle who will be paying me?' Nicola enquired. Robert spread his hands. 'I've no idea,' he said vaguely. 'The nephew put the proposition to me, but he did say that the portrait had been Traugott's own idea. You'll find out when you get there, I expect.' Nicola looked at him helplessly. Robert Prenn never
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did things in a businesslike manner. 'When do they want me?' `As soon as possible,' he said. 'I know nothing about Traugott Sorensen's state of health, but as he's elderly, they may be justified in wanting the portrait completed as soon as possible. You're to stay on the farm as a guest while you're working. I have their address so you can write and tell them when they can expect you. Will you travel up by car?' `Probably,' Nicola said. 'That's the best way to see the country. I'll have to think about how soon I can leave. I have a few things that ought to be seen to immediately, but I should be ready in a few days' time:If I'm going to do this portrait, I'd like to get it over with as soon as possible.' `Don't rush through it,' her father warned. 'Even if you're not very confident about it, try to do a good job. Remember your professional integrity.' Nicola smiled. 'Of course. I'll make an effort, and if it turns out to be a disaster, I'll still be able to say that I gave of my best.' Nicola set out for the Northern Transvaal on the morning following Twelfth Night. She had written to the Sorensens after deciding the date for her journey so that they would know when to expect her. She had been in two minds as to whom she should write to : Traugott Sorensen, her prospective subject, or Barak Sorensen who had put the proposition to her father. In the end she had decided to address the letter to Traugott.
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She had succeeded in smothering her anxious qualms about the portrait Traugott Sorensen desired, having come to regard her commission in the light of a challenge. Perhaps, if he was an interesting enough character, she might even make a success of it. She hoped her subject wasn't too disappointed at having to rely on the exiguous talent of Nicola Prenn when he had wanted Robert, the father. He might prove difficult if he resented her. It was strange, his having asked for Robert Prenn, Nicola thought. People who had heard of her father were generally knowledgeable enough to know that he never painted portraits, while a large section of the public knew nothing whatsoever about him. Traugott Sorensen seemed to fit into neither group. Nicola wondered what he would be like. All she knew was that he was elderly. The little family history Robert had given had been intriguing. She could visualise the Sorensens : large fair men with the arrogant blood of Viking ancestors in their veins. She was enjoying the drive, in spite of the January heat. There was a glorious freedom in travelling like this, stopping in a small town when she felt hungry and under no obligation to go on when some view intrigued her, or a cluster of hills begged her to stop and receive rapture from their beauty. Acres of parched veld, interspersed with farmland, and the towns she had never seen before; Nylstroom, Naboomspruit, Potgietersrus, the important Pietersburg, and the surrounding cattle-breeding area ... Nicola's hazel eyes remained eager and untired, in spite of the long hours of driving in the dazzling sun, con-
29 fined in the heat of her small vehicle. Anything new was an adventure, and here there was so much she had never imagined existed; odd, unexpected hillocks comprised almost entirely of huge stones, as if some mighty hand had reached out of the African sky and placed them there. In the distance rose the Soutpansberg, faraway blue mountains, seemingly out of reach. Being Nicola, wholly unable to withhold her assistance where it seemed even remotely necessary, and a lover of cats, she had to stop when she saw the pathetically skinny black kitten at the roadside. It took some effort to catch her, half-wild as she was, but Nicola eventually managed to make a grab at the little creature, and was soon breaking up the remainder of the sandwiches she had bought in Naboomspruit and feeding the pieces to the kitten. The land on either side of her was uncultivated here, and there were no buildings of any description in the vicinity, so her latest rescue must be very far from whatever had once been its home, if it had had one. Now that it had been fed, the kitten was content to be petted and lay purring on her lap beneath the steeringwheel, while Nicola sat contemplating it. It was a female and about two months old, she judged. `My latest example of interference, kitten,' she murmured ruefully. 'I'll just hope the Sorensens like cats. Do Vikings like cats?' She shifted the sleepy kitten on to the passenger seat beside her and drove on. She got lost only once in attempting to find the Sorensens' farm, and stopped to enlist the aid of the African proprietor of a tiny, dim store, seemingly miles from anywhere and which was crammed with WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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every commodity from bales of material to huge bags of flour. Nicola was intrigued by the man's haughty Arabic features and she had ample opportunity to observe him because it was some time before they could make themselves understood to each other, Nicola's Afrikaans having been neglected since she had left school, something which she now found disconcerting as her would-be helper apparently didn't know any English, and the Afrikaans directions which flooded from him were issued at such a rate that she couldn't possibly hope to follow. Eventually she thought she had grasped enough to find the farm, and she thanked him and returned to her car. She was surprised to find how near the farm she was, and soon she was through the first gate and travelling up a steep, bumpy lane. Passing a copse of trees, Nicola was so startled by the child who ran out into the lane that she nearly winded herself, slamming on the brakes. Nicola had had a big enough fright to be angry, and her face was pale as she got out of the car and approached the little girl who was now hovering on the grass verge, staring unblinkingly at her with undisguised curiosity in her strange shadowy grey eyes. `Well, honestly, you might have more care when you cross roads, even if this is on private property,' Nicola said, and her voice wobbled slightly. She hadn't yet recovered from her fright. 'I might have knocked you over.' The child, who looked about nine, made no effort to apologise. 'I didn't expect anyone to come up here this evening. What do you want?'
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 31 Nicola, who had had little experience of children, was disconcerted. This one was so very self-possessed, with her smooth, expressionless face. She was thin, but healthily so, and her pale brown hair was tangled and untidy. Where had she seen that face before? Not those shadowy eyes, Nicola thought, just the smoothness. Like a plaster Madonna. `Who are you?' she returned the child's question with another. `Melanie.' `Melanie what?' `Melanie Sorensen. What's your name?' `Nicola Prenn ' `What have you come here for? They won't want you.' Nicola wondered what that meant. 'I've come to paint a Mr Traugott Sorensen.' `Uncle Traugott, my great-uncle. But he won't let you paint him. He wants some man to do that, and you're just a lady, though your name is almost like a man's,' the child said calmly. `Well, they know I'm coming,' Nicola said easily. `Shouldn't you be getting home? The sun will be setting in a few minutes and they'll wonder where you are.' `It doesn't matter. They don't mind.' It sounded forlorn, somehow, but the little face remained devoid of expression. 'What were you doing in the copse?' Nicola enquired brightly. The child's calm manner made her slightly uneasy. How did one talk to children? The shadowy grey eyes grew round and mysterious.
32 WALK IN THE SHADOWS 'I had things to do,' Melanie Sorensen said, dropping her voice to a whisper. Nicola smiled. That had sounded more naturally childlike. She gazed through the trees. Imaginative games would be born and acted out among them, and they would remain a private part of Melanie's world, something she would not share. 'Is Mr Barak Sorensen your father?' she asked. `My uncle. I haven't got a father. Or a mother. They died.' The childishness had vanished again and it was said with an adult dignity. Did it conceal pain or had she been too young to remember? 'I'm sorry. My mother died too—when I was very young, but I was lucky enough to still have my father,' Nicola said softly. `Can you remember her?' 'Very slightly.' 'I can remember mine And Daddy. I was five, and they got killed. I'm nine now.' `And are there just you, and your uncles Traugott and Barak?' Nicola enquired. If there were only the two men, that might explain why the little girl was wandering alone, far from the farmhouse, when nightfall was so close at hand. Two men on their own, one elderly, might unwittingly neglect a child. 'There's Aunt Ellen.' 'Uncle Barak's wife?' Melanie shook her head. 'Uncle Traugott's. She's old, but not as old as him Uncle Barak hasn't got a wife, but I think he's going - to marry my auntie. She says so. She's only nine years older than me, though.'
33 `Twice your age,' Nicola said lightly. Which auntie was this, then? A relative or someone else? She continued, 'Would you like to ride back to the house with me? Won't Aunt Ellen be worried about you?' Melanie shook her head. 'I don't think so,' she said gravely. 'I'll go back soon, though.' She moved nearer to the car and looked in. 'Did you bring your kitten with you, then?' `No, I found her about ten miles back,' Nicola explained. 'She was starving, poor thing.' `What are you going to do with her?' Nicola looked dubious. 'I don't know. I hope your family will let me keep her at the house. If they don't want her, I supose I'll take her back to Johannesburg with me when I leave. I have two cats there already.' `And we've got three,' Melanie said. And a dog. They won't want her. I expect they'll fight with her. Uncle Barak won't want her either. He'll be furious.' It was all said in a steady monotone and Nicola looked at the child anxiously. Perhaps Uncle Barak was a monster of a man. Melanie was certainly repressed. She hadn't smiled once yet. Nicola hastily clamped down on fantasies of ill-treatment and neglect. `Are you sure you won't let me give you a lift?' she said as she got into the Volkswagen again. `Sure,' Melanie repeated. `Goodbye, then,' said Nicola, starting up the engine. She wasn't happy about leaving the little girl, but perhaps her guardians, as she presumed the adult Soren- sens to be, believed in giving children as much freedom as possible. She caught a last glimpse of Melanie runWALK IN THE SHADOWS
34 WALK IN THE SHADOWS ning back towards the trees, a slight figure in blue jeans, her pale brown hair streaming out behind her as she ran. Nicola continued on her way, now driving between vast plantations of attractive green avocado trees. Further on she recognised a banana plantation. Somehow she had thought of bananas as being exclusive to Natal. But of course ! This was the Piesanghoek area, and `piesang' was the Afrikaans for banana. They seemed to have several sidelines, she thought as she caught sight of an African youth herding a small flock of sheep on the lower slopes of the mountains. And there ahead of her was the farmhouse. Nicola slowed the car, caught up in the beauty of the scene. To live here ! She wondered if the Sorensens thought of themselves as fortunate. The house nestled against the mountain, and the long driveway swept between terraced lawns, right up to the wide veranda. From where Nicola was, it appeared as if the veranda ran right round three sides of the square, mellow old building, and the crimson and flame of the setting sun caught the windows of the house, making them glitter fierily, and touched the white walls, turning them pink. Nicola brought the Volkswagen to a halt in front of the wide steps leading up to the big veranda, and got out. As she did so, someone appeared at the double doors which opened into the house, and she went quickly up the stairs, smiling. Then suddenly Nicola was no longer smiling and her hand had gone to her mouth. Of all people ... ! Unforgotten, for it was only a week since she had last seen him. The appraising grey eyes and powerful physique
35 were only too familiar. Hadn't the memory of this man and the girl, Denise Graeme, who was his fiancée, caused her to burn with humiliation over and over again in the last few days? The occasion of their first meeting had been the most embarrassing moment in her life. At first the man's face held no hint of recognition; then his eyes grew cold and his mouth became a straight line. It was the hard mouth of one who would be totally relentless towards anyone he disliked, Nicola thought apprehensively as she paused uncertainly halfway up the stairs. `What am I supposed to say? That it's a small world?' he said with icy humour which wasn't really humour at all. He looked• at her with profound distaste. The atmosphere between them was taut, and the tension needed easing. But what, she wondered, could she say? `How embarrassing,' she said eventually. WALK IN THE SHADOWS
CHAPTER TWO `WHY embarrassing?' he enquired without even looking at her. His grey eyes were fixed on the panorama of distant blue hills which comprised the view from the front of the house. `Well, it is, isn't it?' Nicola said helplessly. Tor you.' It was a statement.
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`Yes, of course. For me. I didn't mean you,' she replied hastily, confusion staining her cheeks a delicate pink. `Naturally,' he said, unamused. 'You are Nicola Prenn, I take it?' She nodded. 'And I suppose you're Mr Barak Sorensen?' `You suppose correctly. If I had realised who you were the other night ...' He didn't even bother to finish it. `You'd have cancelled the arrangement,' she completed it for him, and he didn't deny it. 'And if I had known who you would turn out to be, I wouldn't have come.' `Why not? Because you feel I know too much about you? Did Baxter know you were coming to Piesanghoek?' `Todd?' Nicola was genuinely surprised. `Who else?' Barak Sorensen said impatiently. 'Never mind, I can't stop your adding to Hilary Baxter's unhappiness. What was the idea? Woman and woman ... the primitive challenge? Carrying it to the enemy's camp?' Nicola grasped his meaning. For one thoughtless moment she was tempted to tell him the truth of the matter. Then she remembered how it had all come about. Denise Graeme had needed her help. It couldn't be undone now. She said, 'Of course, you could prevent my adding to Mrs Baxter's unhappiness, Mr Sorensen. You could send me packing.' `Unfortunately I can't,' he told her curtly. Traugott, my uncle, is employing you, not me.'
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`You could tell him. I'm sure he's as upright and moral as you are, never out of step, so he'd share your opinion.' It might have been a glint of humour which showed momentarily in the grey. eyes. 'Who said I was upright and moral? It depends, of course, on how one defines those terms, and in your context ... At my age, likely to need a woman, am I not? And I don't yet have a wife.' Nicola flushed and wondered what his age was. Late thirties, she concluded, seeing the lines about his mouth. 'Not what I'd expect from the grandson of a missionary,' she mocked, rallying. `Your behaviour isn't what I'd expect from the daughter of the man I met and liked the other night,' he taunted, his eyes dangerous. `Perhaps you don't know the man. It was a very short meeting, wasn't it?' said Nicola, simply for the sake of it. `Perhaps not,' he admitted. . Still they stood on the -steps, Nicola having to look up at him because he was two steps above her. 'What are you going to do now?' she demanded. He shrugged elegantly. 'Nothing, Miss Prenn. Traugott has come round to the idea that if he can't have Robert Prenn, then Nicola Prenn is the next best thing. So you will remain here - until you have completed the portrait, and Traugott and Ellen will hear nothing of our former meeting.' Nicola genuflected in brief mockery. 'Yes, my lord,' she said demurely, then retreated to the foot of the stairs as she saw the expression on his face.
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`I'd advise you to walk a little more. softly, MissPrenn,' he said, following her down. `Meaning that I'm in the position of having to rely on your discretion.' Put it that way if you like,' he said, not interested. `You're not what I expected,' she said frankly, staring at him. 'I thought—I imagined a fair Viking.' `Preconceived ideas ... My mother was dark,' he informed her briefly. 'Let's get your luggage into the house.' Nicola opened the car. 'I haven't brought much. Would you take my painting materials? Please be careful. And could the kitten have some milk right away, please?' `Kitten?' `Yes.' Nicola picked up the sleepy animal. 'I found it on the road. It was starving and in very poor condition.' `Yes?' Barak Sorensen's face was expressionless as he regarded first the cat, then Nicola. 'I can see that. In addition, it probably has fleas, isn't house-trained and is also an unspayed female. They always are.' `She is a female,' Nicola admitted meekly. 'And she's much too young to have been spayed.' `And we're expected to welcome her as a member of the household?' `Only till I go,' Nicola pleaded. 'If you don't want her, I'll take her back to Johannesburg with me. Or you might know someone who wants a cat.' `The farms around here have more than enough as it is,' he said patiently. 'There are three here.'
39 `I suppose you think I ought to have left her to starve,' Nicola said heatedly. He smiled suddenly; just a brief lightening of his dark features. 'Oh, bring her in. You can hand her over to Sarah in the kitchen.' `Is she the maid?' `Yes. Come on.' So Nicola went up the stairs again. She said awkwardly, looking at him over her shoulder, 'Thank you, Mr Sorensen. I realise that you must regard the cat and me as an imposition ...' `Don't mention it,' he said. 'I put up with a lot for my uncle's sake. He has to be humoured.' Nicola's eyes flashed, but she kept silent. Barak Sorensen was like no one else she had ever met, and she detested him. She wasn't used to being despised and the feeling was an uncomfortable one. As for Traugott, it sounded as if he was going to prove a difficult subject. They went through a short hallway and into a very large lounge where they were met by an African woman who had the same arrogantly proud features of the man who had directed Nicola to the farm. `Sarah, Miss Prenn has brought a kitten. You'd' better take it into the kitchen and attend to it,' Barak Sorensen said after he had introduced them briefly. `And please tell Madam that she's arrived.' `Yes, sir.' Smiling, Sarah took the kitten from Nicola and left them. `We'll wait for Ellen,' said Barak. Nicola looked around the big room. It seemed to be at the centre of the house, with the rest built around it, WALK IN THE SHADOWS
40 WALK IN THE SHADOWS except on the front where big windows commanded a magnificent view. It was growing darker outside now, so she turned to study the room. It was in magnificent taste, she admitted reluctantly to herself. What a wonderful old piano ! The carpet was luxurious and thick, deadening all sound, and the furniture was preBoer War, beautifully preserved. However, it was the pictures adorning the walls which impressed her most. Here hung the works of South Africa's best artists, as well as some by Euro- peans, treasures which Nicola would have given much to have possessed. Such marvels ... you need a fortune to own even one. Just looking at them was an adventure. She recognised one of her father's works, a cornpelling view of Knysna in the evening. The colours were sombre, even dull, but Robert's brush had captured a potential drama which excited the viewer to a pitch of uneasiness. Forgetting herself, she turned to the man beside her. `Isn't it thrilling' she said breathlessly, in the state which only a rare few of her father's most dramatic works induced. `Very thrilling,' Barak said drily, and the lamps in Nicola's eyes were switched off again. Her smile died abruptly. `Don't you like it?' `Does one like that sort of painting?' She realised what he meant. 'No, one experiences it,' she said softly. He appraised her expressionlessly. 'It's little wonder I hardly recognised you at first. Nothing could be more different from the woman I saw the other night. Very
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Much dressed for the farm now, aren't you?' Nicola knew how vivid the contrast must seem. On New Year's Eve she had been over-made-up and wearing a very brief dress. Today she had donned slacks and a plain shirt as being the most comfortable apparel in which to make a fairly extended car journey. Her lightly tanned face was innocent of make-up and her straight auburn hair was tied back at the nape of her neck. She was embarrassed by his scrutiny and didn't know what to say. Usually Nicola was rarely embarrassed, but this man succeeded in making her so nearly all the time, and she resented it. `What a contrast,' he continued softly, and she wondered if she was imagining the threat in his voice. Threat of what? 'What are you, Nicola Prenn? How many other personalities have you? All things to all men. I never liked it—it's too easy.' `Why easy? All things to all men is what some politicians are. Why don't you say canny, devious ... tricky even? You wouldn't buy a used car from me, would you?' she flashed. `It's a pity I saw you the other night,' he said, 'or you might have succeeded in putting over the present image.' Nicola turned away from him, feeling inexplicably hurt. After a moment she said tentatively, 'Mr Sorensen, you mentioned ... carrying the fight into the enemy's camp. Does that mean the Baxters live near here?' `Didn't you know that? Their farm is a few miles from here—Hilary's farm, to be accurate.'
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`Thank you. No, I didn't know.' `I'm surprised,' he said sarcastically. 'If Baxter told you he was married, I'd have thought he'd have told you something of the circumstances.' `Well, he didn't. I don't know him all that well.' `No? I could have sworn otherwise,' he said quietly, and Nicola flushed. Before she could utter the hot words which had sprung to her lips, they were interrupted by the entry of an elderly couple. Here indeed was the typical Scandinavian, Nicola realised as she looked at Traugott Sorensen. Thick snow-white hair which would once have been flaxen, bright blue eyes, a deep tan and ruddy cheeks. He was a big man, in excellent condition for someone in the mid-seventies. There was no trace of flabbiness and very few lines on the face. It was a noble face, she thought, and she might with luck be able to do it justice. `This is Miss Prenn,' Barak said briefly. 'Miss Prenn, Mr and Mrs Sorensen.' `How nice to have a visitor,' Mrs Sorensen said when they had shaken hands. 'I love meeting new people.' `You're not to hinder her from her work, trying to extract her life history, Ellen,' Traugott Sorensen said with only the faintest trace of a guttural accent. Ellen was much younger than her husband, possibly as much as fifteen years, and Nicola liked her at once. There was a natural sophistication about the tall, still slim figure clad in navy, and the silvery-grey head. Nothing contrived or even acquired in this legance : Ellen Sorensen would have been born this way. Nicola, said to Traugott, 'I hope I can provide you
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 43 with a satisfactory portrait, Mr Sorensen, but I feel it's only fair to warn you that like my father, I have never specialised in painting people. Dad told me he hadn't mentioned it to Mr ... your nephew.' `Probably knew it wasn't necessary,' the old man said. 'Barak himself warned me that the Prenns aren't portraitists—he knows more about art than I do—but I wanted a Prenn. He's about the only South African artist I care for, and if I can't have him then his daughter will have to do. We won't pass any judgment until we see what you've turned out, young lady. But you're younger than I had anticipated ... I don't want you painting me with one eye in the middle of my forehead.' Nicola laughed delightedly. 'I promise you I won't do that.' Ellen Sorensen's blue eyes twinkled. 'Both Traugott and I are ultra-conservative when it comes to art. Now, what about my showing you to your room? You give me that apparatus you're carrying, Barak; then I wish you'd look for Melanie. Sarah says she's missing again.' `Oh, the little girl!' Nicola exclaimed. 'I saw her. I offered her a lift up to the house, but she refused. She was near a little copse of trees ... before you come to the avocado plantations if you're coming from the road to the house. Oh, it's hard to explain.' `I know where you mean,' he said. 'She's been found there on previous occasions. All right, Ellen, I'll go and fetch her. Miss Prenn, have you left the keys in your car? I'll move it into the garage for you before I go for the child.' He departed, and Ellen turned to Nicola. 'Let's get
44 WALK IN THE SHADOWS you settled in, shall we? Being farming people, we dine fairly early and Sarah will be setting the table soon.' They went out of the lounge, leaving Traugott Sorensen alone. 'I've given you a room at the end of one of the side verandas,' Ellen explained. 'That way, you can have privacy if you get tired of us. Melanie has the room opposite you, at the other end, but she won't disturb you. She's a quiet child, too quiet.' Nicola followed Mrs Sorensen into a big comfortable bedroom which, like the lounge, spoke of good taste, and it was evident that no expense had been spared over the furnishings. The wide bed was an antique, with a wooden frame and beautifully gleaming headboard, and the heavy cover was cream, like the carpet. The walls were papered in, sunshine yellow and the dark wood of the furniture made an attractive contrast. `All my favourite colours,' Nicola said happily. 'It's beautiful, Mrs Sorensen.' `I thought you'd like it,' the older woman said, looking pleased. She sat down carefully. on a high-backed chair. 'Sarah tells me you brought a cat with you?' `Yes, I found her at the roadside and I just couldn't leave her. She was starving. But I'm sorry if it's going to be a nuisance to you,' Nicola said anxiously. 'I understand you already have three cats. I'll take her back to Johannesburg when I leave.' 'It might be unwise to uproot her if she settles well,' Ellen said. 'One more cat won't make much difference, and none of us has any objection to the creatures.' `I don't think Mr Sorensen—your nephew, I mean —was very pleased,' Nicola said doubtfully. Ellen smiled. 'You mustn't mind Barak. He's been
45 under a bit of strain lately, what with the worry Melanie causes us, and Denise's restlessness. Of course, I expect the situation will resolve itself eventually, but I've always thought Barak was trying to make Denise a substitute for Vanessa. She's just like her sister was at that age. Barak and Vanessa had a somewhat stormy affair more than ten years ago, but she married his brother Karl in the end, because she wanted to get away from farming and he had this job in Pietersburg. That's what makes Melanie all the more precious to Barak—the fact that she's Vanessa's daughter. Oh dear, I suppose you think it's in very bad taste for me to be talking in this way when we've only just met, but I knew immediately that you were someone I could talk to. And I do miss a woman's company. All my friends around here are farmers' wives and consequently very busy women, so sometimes I go for days without seeing them. Occasionally it gets so bad that I simply have to get out the car and run into Louis Trichardt.' `But you're happy in the country?' Nicola said a little absently. She was thinking about Barak Sorensen. How would he have taken it when Vanessa had chosen to marry his brother? He would be as proud as Lucifer, she was sure. And Denise Graeme now, a substitute for the older sister, and restless, perhaps because she suspected the truth, was even trying to test his feelings for her as a woman, an individual, and not the sister of Vanessa. Maybe that was why she had gone to the party in Johannesburg with Todd Baxter. Denise. Of course, that had been who Melanie's small, smooth face had reminded her of. The pale WALK IN THE SHADOWS
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 46 brown hair was different, and the child's eyes grey where Denise's were tawny, but the expressionlessness of the faces was identical. Then Denise was whom Melanie had meant by her 'auntie'. `Oh yes, Traugott and I are very happy here,' Ellen Sorensen was saying, and Nicola cast aside speculation on the subject of Denise and Barak. 'As long as we have occasional visits to Pretoria and Johannesburg, I love it. And Barak has assured us that he wants us to stay on when and if he marries, so we don't have to worry about the future. My husband worked a citrus farm in the Eastern Transvaal, but when he decided to retire we sold it, as it would have been no use to Ilse and Peter. use is our daughter, our only child. They live in Messina, so this is nice and near, and they frequently come up for weekends, so I see quite a lot of my grandchildren. use and Peter actually met in Messina, when she was working at the Beit Bridge customs post. He's with the mines.' `Messina is a major copper centre, isn't it?' `That's right. The name is a corruption of the native word musina, which means copper,' Mrs Sorensen explained. `Is it? And I always thought it was named after Sicily's Messina,' Nicola confessed. When Mrs Sorensen had left her, she had a quick bath in the private bathroom which adjoined her room and boasted the same colour-scheme, before opening her cases. She spent quite a while deciding what to wear, and was astonished at herself. Usually neat comfort and cleanliness were her only concerns but somehow she felt that tonight she must look her best.
47 Eventually she decided on a panelled cream skirt and a jade-green blouse, adding a matching necklace which enhanced the slenderness of her tanned throat. She rarely wore jewellery anywhere other than about her neck, not liking to have her fingers and wrists encumbered. For the same reason, she would always remove her watch and work with her forearms bare, even in winter. She took her time over applying the most discreet of make-up and even troubled to varnish her nails with clear polish. If only she could erase the impression she had made on Barak Sorensen the previous week ... But she knew that it was a forlorn hope. That night in her father's house, it hadn't been merely her appearance that had contrived to make him dislike her : it had been what he had seen and overheard as well, and she couldn't explain hey behaviour to him without causing further trouble between him and Denise. Nicola paused in the act of brushing her hair. The time she would spend in the Sorensen household was going to hold much in the way of discomfort for her, if it was to be under the cloud of Barak Sorensen's dislike - ... or was it disapproval? It could hardly be said that their acquaintance had got off to a harmonious start. And he would be even icier in his attitude towards her if he suspected that Ellen had told her so much about his personal affairs; about Vanessa who had married his brother Karl after an affair with Barak, and about his present problems concerning Denise Graeme. Strange really : he looked the sort of man who would regard fortune as a divine right of his, someone who would always get his own way. Nicola WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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wondered what the brother had been like. She picked up her brush again, feeling strangely depressed. No, it wasn't going to be an easy interlude, but she would make the most of it, here amid the beautiful mountains north of the Tropic of Capricorn. Her father had warned her not to hurry over the portrait and she was determined to heed his advice. It would be an abuse of the professional integrity he had instilled in her if she executed a work made bad through haste. Nevertheless, she hoped it would not take too long. Nicola left her hair loose, and its auburn richness swung silkily about her neck and shoulders as she went through to the lounge. There she was met by Sarah who told her that the family was on the veranda at the front of the house and expected her to join them there. They were all there, including Melanie, now no longer in jeans but wearing a short pink dress, `There you are !' Ellen Sorensen looked pleased. 'We always sit out here before dinner in the summer. You do look nice, Miss Prenn.' `You do look nice, Miss Prenn,' Barak mimicked in understones so that only Nicola could hear as he drew up a chair for her. 'Which image is it now? Demure yet sophisticated, perhaps? The type who'll ask for a small dry sherry?' `I' m not a type at all, Mr Sorensen,' Nicola retorted in the same low voice. 'I'm all things to all men, remember. And I always ask for gin and tonic.' `So be it,' he said, unperturbed, and with just the faintest trace of amusement in the pale grey eyes. `What are you talking about?' Melanie asked
49 blandly. 'She's not Miss Prenn, Aunt Ellen—she's Nicola Prenn. She told me so. We don't have to call you Miss, do we?' Nicola laughed as she sank into her chair. 'Nicola will suit me fine,' she said. `Oh, good,' Ellen said happily. 'I do dislike formality between people living in the same house. I'm Ellen, and you'll have to call the men by their Christian names too, as two Mr Sorensens will lead to all kinds of confusion.' Nicola turned faintly pink. She wasn't going to call Barak Sorensen by his first name, and the dignity of Traugott Sorensen demanded formality. Melanie got up from her chair and came to stand beside Nicola. She stared at her for a few moments, then : 'Did they want you after all?' Nicola accepted a glass from Barak, and turned to the child. 'Well, they want someone,' she said, 'and as I paint, I hope I'll suit your uncle.' `I hope so too,' the old man said. 'Have you really never done a portrait, though?' `Oh, I did at art school, and I've experimented since when the mood has been on me,' Nicola explained. 'But I've never seriously attempted anything like this before.' `Evidently your father thinks you can do it,' Barak pointed out. 'Otherwise he wouldn't have arranged for you to come up here.' It was true. Robert Prenn might often feel it unnecessary to make a truth known, but he would never accept a commission on behalf of himself or his daughter unless he had absolute faith that the client WALK IN THE SHADOWS
50 WALK IN THE SHADOWS would receive a hundred-per-cent effort, even if the result might not measure up to expectations. For Robert, as for Nicola, endeavour counted for more than results. `I'll do my best to satisfy you, Mr Sorensen,' Nicola promised Traugott quietly. `Thank you,' he said simply. 'I have always wanted a portrait of myself.' It wasn't merely vanity that had given birth to the wish, Nicola realised presently when they went through to the big dining-room. Two walls were hung with portraits of big men with blue eyes. Nicola counted swiftly. Nine of them. All the brothers save Traugott, the youngest. She wondered which of them was Barak's father. The portraits varied in size, and some had been sat for by Sorensens still young, while others showed men who had reached the ripeness of maturity. If she succeeded in her task, Traugott's portrait would presumably fill the empty tenth space. Ellen saw her appraisal of the portraits and smiled. `Now you realise why Traugott wants his portrait. I must say, the brothers are a bit overpowering seen at once, but he feels he ought to have his likeness join them up there. We don't see much of the descendants of the first eight these days, partly, I suppose, because only Einer and Traugott went into farming. Their brothers' children are scattered all over South Africa, but in cities. That's Einer over there—Barak's father.' She pointed to the portrait of a lean fair man, opposite the space Traugott's would soon occupy. 'Barak takes after his mother in colouring, of course, but his brother Karl was fair. He also had Grace's grey eyes, though.'
51 Nicola glanced obliquely at Barak. She was seated between him and Melanie at the round table. He caught her look and smiled frostily. 'I suppose you've had our entire family history from Ellen by now?' `Not quite,' Nicola retorted. 'What nationality was your mother?' she added daringly. `English. Like Ellen, she was a descendant of one of the 1820 British settlers,' he informed her without bothering to look at her again. They were served their meal by Sarah, who quietly assured Nicola that the black kitten was very happy in the kitchen. The food was excellently prepared. They started with an attractive raw fish dish. 'Do you do the cooking?' Nicola asked Ellen Sorensen. `Sarah and I share it,' Ellen told her. 'It's a fallacy that two women can't share a kitchen. We're quite happy working together. Sarah is much more practical and unsentimental than me, though. The other day I broke my favourite egg-timer and I wept. Sarah thought I was mad because I never used it anyway. But one gets so attached to things, and it was a wedding present from a young cousin of mine, thirty-six years ago.' Melanie brought them back to their earlier subject by saying solemnly, 'I've also got Granny Grace's grey eyes, haven't I, Uncle Barak?' `You have indeed, darling,' he assured her, and it was the first time Nicola had seen the arrogant face soften..She glanced at the child who sat on her left. The grey eyes, inherited from Grace Sorensen, were darker than Barak's, but it wouldn't be the eyes that Barak saw. No, it was the Graeme face, smoothly WALK IN THE SHADOW
52 WALK IN THE SHADOWS lovely, which he saw and softened towards. Vanessa's face, mirrored in her daughter; mirrored too in Vanessa's young sister Denise. Denise, whom he sought to make a substitute for the woman he must have loved. He was quiet during the major part of the meal, as was the child who ate little and stared at Nicola a great deal. It was disconcerting, and she knew so little about children. This little girl was surely stranger than most. Ellen Sorensen did most of the talking, pleased to have a fresh face at the table. Consequently it was from Ellen, with some assistance from her husband, that Nicola learned some of the facts appertaining to Barak Sorensen's farm. Traugott started asking her about her painting and she told him a little about her art-school training and the work she did now. `I have never understood,' Ellen said with twinkling blue eyes, 'why you artists get so scathingly uptight about the "don't know much about art but I know what I like" brigade. It seems a sensible remark to me.' Nicola laughed. 'Eminently sensible when you think about it,' she agreed. 'After all, they at least have a taste for certain pictures and models. That's better than being wholly indifferent to the subject.' Traugott said, 'Don't back her up too fervently, Miss Prenn, or she'll be fancying herself as an art critic.' Ellen looked at Nicola laughingly. 'As you can see, we've reached that stage when we can cheerfully be rude to each other.' `I think that's nice,' said Nicola. 'It has a sort of honesty.'
53 Barak's quick glance was shrewdly appraising. `Then you admire honesty in a marriage?' he said disbelievingly. Nicola flushed, realising what he referred to. The Baxters' marriage lacked that quality and he imagined that she was playing a part in Todd's abuse of his marriage vows. She nodded, however. `I do.' `Yes?' His mouth curved derisively. Nicola, aware of the curious looks that Ellen and Traugott were giving them, was relieved when Melanie created a diversion by announcing that it was her bathtime. The adults took coffee in the elegant lounge and Nicola feasted her eyes on the glorious art displayed there. `Where are you going to paint my husband? In here?' Ellen enquired. Nicola's discreetly sensuous mouth drooped. 'Oh, did you want it to be indoors?' she said disappointedly. `I had thought ... outside would be better.' `So that you can give more attention to the details of my surroundings than you'll give to me?' Traugott Sorensen teased, his blue eyes very piercing in the soft electric light. `No, oh no,' Nicola protested, embarrassed. `I only thought ... you see, you strike one as a person who belongs to the land. That's how I think of you, anyway.' The big white-haired man looked pleased. `Then it'll be outside. You can have a look round the farm tomorrow and decide where you think I should be.' `All right,' Nicola agreed, spreading her small strong hands. 'We'll have to set a time for painting, so that the WALK IN THE SHADOWS
54 WALK IN THE SHADOWS light is consistent each day. How do you want it? Fulllength, like the one of your brother Einer? I've brought a canvas that size; I brought a selection because I didn't know what you wanted.' `I'll leave it to you,' said Traugott. 'I've an idea you know better than I do what's required.' Nicola laughed. 'I doubt that very much, Mr Sorensen. I suppose you should really have been painted on your citrus farm—your true environment.' `I never thought of it in those days,' Traugott confessed with a smile. Melanie came in then, looking fresh and well scrubbed in shortie pyjamas and a matching dressinggown. She gravely said goodnight,to Ellen and Traugott, without kissing them or even smiling. Nicola wondered if she ever smiled. `Goodnight, Nicola,' she said solemnly, pausing in front of her chair. `Goodnight, Melanie.' `Now, Uncle Barak, you can come and tuck me in,' said Melanie, turning to the lean, dark man who had been watching her with inscrutably veiled eyes. He stood up, and Nicola was conscious of how surprisingly easily he moved for someone so tall. `Come on then,' and for a brief moment he laid his hand on the child's shining light brown hair. Melanie would be the Achilles heel of this strong man, Nicola realised. Melanie, who was like her mother ... `It's nice when you don't go to Auntie Denise in the evenings and can come and tuck me in,' Melanie was telling him as they left the lounge together.
55 `She's so quiet and serious,' Traugott commented, his blue eyes following the pair. `I wish she'd learn to laugh,' Ellen agreed with. a sigh. 'Nicola, if you've finished your coffee, perhaps you'd like to come and see how your kitten is getting on in the kitchen.' `Thank you,' said Nicola, standing up. Ellen took her through to the long kitchen which retained an old-fashioned charm in spite of having been modernised, and Nicola soon saw the basket which contained the sleeping black kitten. Ellen smiled down at the kneeling girl and the cat. `I think she'll be all right in here. If cats have to share a home, they generally accept that and there's no trouble unless one of them comes too close to another. And Sylvester is a friendly creature, more like a dog really,' she said, picking up a purring Siamese from one of the kitchen chairs. 'Our other two are true farm cats, wholly nocturnal. They come home in the morning and sleep most of the day. But Sylvester likes company.' `Melanie told me you have a dog as well.' `Yes, a black labrador. He's probably out on the front veranda. He usually is at this time of night. Officially his name is Don Quixote. Melanie wanted to call him Donkey when we acquired him because she thought he looked like one, so we compromised with Don Quixote. Needless to say, the poor animal still gets called Donkey.' Nicola laughed. 'That's rather sweet.' She stood up, stifling a yawn. Ellen smiled. 'I expect you're starting to react to WALK IN THE SHADOWS
56 WALK IN THE SHADOWS your long journey and the change of air. Would you like to go to bed now?' `Please,' Nicola said ruefully. 'It's just hit me. I hadn't felt at all tired until now.' Now she was weary, but she thought it was due to the discovery of who Barak Sorensen was, and the subsequent strain engendered by his dislike of her, than to the trip and change of atmosphere. `Is there anything you'd like before you go to bed?' Ellen asked kindly. 'Something to drink, or a book from the library?' `May I have something to read? I like to take a book to bed with me, although I don't think I'll spend long over one tonight.' `Come along to the library then,' said Ellen as they returned to the lounge. She opened a door leading off the big room. 'Through here. I'll leave you to browse and find something you like.' Nicola thanked her and she left. She had to admit that she was impressed. Their own library. Every wall was packed with books, and there were a pair of mobile stepladders for reaching those near to the ceiling. Such a variety, too, of both fiction and non-fiction, in several different languages. Although most were in English, there was a good supply of German books, as well as some of South Africa's finest Afrikaans literature. And these were Danish, she supposed, coming upon a short row with titles which she failed to understand. She wondered if Olaf Sorensen's sons had learnt his language. Closing and replacing the book she had been looking at, Nicola returned to the English section.
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`May I assist you?' Oh, so courteous ... and cold, cold as that northern country from which his grandfather had set out, to bring God's message to a younger, newer country, still in its infancy. Nicola turned round very slowly to confront Barak Sorensen. `No, it's all right, thank you,' she said politely, tilting her chin a little. She was not a small girl, but in the presence of his imposing height she felt dwarfed ... and insignificant. He exuded an aura of power. Nicola didn't like the feeling. `How long do you imagine you'll take over Traugott's portrait, Miss Prenn?' he asked abruptly. She shrugged gracefully. 'Never having undertaken such an assignment before, I can't say with any certainty, Mr Sorensen. I know how badly you must want my departure—believe me, I'm looking forward to it as much as you are, but I have no intention of executing a shoddy work as the result of haste.' He smiled lazily, the grey eyes half-closed. 'You don't wait to be attacked, do you? You attack first. Why ... you find it the best form of defence, possibly?' `What need have I of defence?' she parried. `What need? You tell me ... Nicola.' She fingered her jade necklace with nervous fingers. Why should she be nervous? She, Nicola Prenn, a free adult of twenty-three, with her host of friends in Johannesburg, and her famous father, and the memory of her first taste of success in the art world. Why should she be nervous? She was an adult woman, yet here she was, feeling the way she had done, years ago in Natal, when Sister Francesca would ask her to stand up and
58 WALK IN THE SHADOWS recite a theorem which Nicola, ever unmathematically inclined, was sure to muddle. `I wasn't defending, Mr Sorensen,' she said sweetly, but with an effort. 'I was merely attempting to reassure you that I won't be remaining on your farm any longer than I can possibly help. Nothing will delay my departure, I promise you.' `Nothing? What about Ellen and Traugott?' he said, and she couldn't read his face, but the tone of his voice was mocking. 'They are evidently quite charmed by the pretty little artist who's brought a fresh voice to their quiet conversations.' `If only they knew me for what I was,' Nicola mocked bitterly. `Why are you so sure I condemn you?' `You do, don't you?' `I haven't said so. Live your life as you please, Nicola Prenn. It's not my concern, thank God. But I suppose you realise how easy it would be for you to take advantage of Ellen and Traugott?' `I ought to, considering the sort of person I am,' she returned ironically. `Yes?' His smile held little humour. He was silent for a moment, watching her, as if for some sign of weakening on her part, but she returned his gaze unwaveringly, her hazel eyes defiant. Then he said, 'If you're going to be working flat out in an effort to leave this distasteful place, then you won't have much time for seeing Baxter.' `Oh, I could make time if I wanted to,' she drawled nonchalantly, while fiercely resenting the construction he had put on her relationship with Todd Baxter.
59 `And do you want to?' he enquired softly, and she shivered at the menace contained in his tone. For a moment she contemplated telling him the truth of what had happened on New Year's Eve. But of what point would that be? It would only bring fresh difficulties to his affair with Denise Graeme. For both their sakes, she ought to remain silent. After all, a marriage was in the balance for them, something to last a lifetime, and Denise must surely have come to her senses when she had realised the danger in which she had placed her engagement by her behaviour the previous week ... While for Nicola, there was merely the prospect of a short period of discomfort covering the duration of her stay in this man's home. Hardly any length of time, measured against the span of a marriage. But there was another possible strategy and she tried it. 'Do I want to see Todd? Not particularly, Mr Sorensen. He means nothing to me. My attitude towards him is not what it was a week ago.' Well, it was true. The more she thought about Todd Baxter, the less she liked him. He observed, 'That was very short-lived, then. How do you arrange it? A quick affair over the holiday season, or between pictures, and painting, painting the rest of the time?' `Oh well, easy come, easy go,' Nicola said flippantly. `Very easy,' he echoed drily. `Is there something wrong with that?' she flared. `Surely that's better than something permanent which might break up the marriage you're so concerned about.' WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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`Infinitely better,' he agreed. 'So you regard lovers as a diversion for the times when you're not working?' `You could put it like that,' said Nicola. She had never felt the need for a lover, thus far in her life. She had been satisfied to paint, and laugh her way through casual, lighthearted romances that were really no more than games, and there had never been a man to take away the freedom and subjugate the independent spirit. Barak moved nearer to her and Nicola's breast rose and fell more rapidly than was usual. The pale grey eyes flicked over her in sharp scrutiny and the amused smile on the hard mouth acknowledged her unease. `You intrigue me, Nicola Prenn, with your changing images—is there anything substantial beneath them when they're discarded?—and your Natalian accent.' Nicola replied breathlessly, 'I hope you're wrong about the accent. A friend of mine says Natal people talk far too loudly.' `That's a generalisation,' he said, while she was conscious of his eyes travelling over her neck, lingering briefly on her shoulders and breasts. Nicola felt her cheeks grow warm under the examination, although the cold eyes made it seem almost clinically impersonal. He added, 'The diction is perfect, the tones as clear as a bell ... but it's the gentle peal of a bell. You don't speak too loudly, although I imagine you might raise your voice if you really and truly lost your temper.' `It's something you might yet see,' she warned him levelly. 'I've been very controlled so far.' `I shall look forward to it,' he said. 'Are you a proper Natalian?'
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She shook her head. 'I was brought up by my mother's parents, there, but I was born in the Transvaal and think of myself as a Transvaaler.' `Your father said he was a widower. What happened to your mother?' `When you hear of someone dying young, what's the first thing you think of in this country where the rate of road deaths is one of the highest in the world? It was an accident.' `I'm sorry.' For a moment he was silent. Then he said, 'That's how Karl and Vanessa died.' In spite of resenting him, she found herself wanting to offer sympathy, but she could detect no pain in his face, just a reminiscent expression. Yet Vanessa had married his brother and died with his brother, and Barak Sorensen had loved her. She knew that the Sorensen pride would not accept sympathy, particularly when it came from a despised stranger, so she changed the subject instead, saying brightly, 'I had a very happy childhood with my grandparents in Natal.' He cast her a brief glance, as if he had divined her tactics. 'Lucky girl,' he said sardonically. 'What was it? Ponies and piano lessons, and your friends envying you your famous daddy, away painting?' `Don't forget the exclusive convent school and the talk about this talented little girl's brilliant future as an artist, so like her father,' Nicola added. He smiled suddenly, and his teeth were very white against his tan. 'And the hopes that success wouldn't spoil you,' he supplemented. 'A convent ... are you a Catholic, then?'
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`Anglican. But I think I've attended as many Masses as Anglican services in the course of my life. Dad believes religion is something very private and personal, so he never dictated on that score. The convent was merely convenient; my mother's old school.' His eyes raked her yet again, and Nicola grew confused. She hastily extracted an English translation of a collection of Guy de Maupassant's short stories from the shelves and turned to address his shirt front. `Goodnight, Mr Sorensen,' she said, and, with her own peculiar angular grace, hurried from the library.
CHAPTER THREE NICOLA was woken before seven the following morning when Sarah brought her a cup of tea, and less than half an hour later she was going through the house, dressed in pale slacks and a thin lemon-yellow blouse. She was not accustomed to such early rising, only getting up early when she was occasionally painting something in the early morning light, but she didn't feel she had needed an extra hour in bed. It must have been going to bed so early the previous evening that was responsible, she thought as she passed the hall. Melanie was there, in the blue jeans in which Nicola had first seen her, hanging over the telephone table. She halted her slow dialling as she caught sight of the visitor. `It's breakfast time,' she announced without return-
63 ing Nicola's greeting. 'They're on the veranda.' She waved in the direction of the side veranda, opposite to the one Nicola's room was off. `Thank you,' Nicola said with the same gravity. `Are you going to paint Uncle Traugott today?' don't know if I'll begin today,' said Nicola with a smile. 'We have to decide where it would be best for him to pose first, so I'll have to have a look round the farm.' Melanie considered this. 'Under the windmill,' she announced decisively at last. 'That would be best.' `Why would it?' Nicola asked. Melanie shrugged. `Dunno Why, can't you paint a windmill? I can. I did it once for school. There's also the dam. Maybe Uncle Traugott would like to have the dam in his-picture.' have to ask him about that,' Nicola said as she turned away. 'Have you had your breakfast yet?' `No.' Melanie shook her head. be coming in a while. I have to phone a friend of mine first,' she added, sounding important. Nicola smiled and left her, a sombre-faced little girl dialling on the telephone. Ellen Sorensen and the men were at the table on the sunny side veranda, the men just finishing their meal. `Good morning, Nicola,' Ellen greeted her happily. `I hope you don't find our meals too early for you. These two men have already been out all over the farm. They always do the rounds before breakfast. Barak will be off again in a minute.' `Which will no doubt gladden Miss Prenn's heart— if she has one,' said Barak, his smile unreadable as he WALK IN THE SHADOWS
64 WALK IN THE SHADOWS appraised Nicola who stood uncertainly beside the table which was covered with an attractive scarlet and white cloth. `What a horrible thing to say ! ' Ellen protested reproachfully. 'About her having a heart, I mean. Of course she has one. Anyone can see that Nicola is the sort of person who feels things.' `I wonder,' Barak observed. 'If she has a heart, it's given to brushes and oil paint, Ellen. Affairs are for when she hasn't got anything to paint.' `They might not be for even those occasions after my stay here,' Nicola retorted. 'I'm rapidly being put off men.' `Too bad, but maybe it will prove a blessing. Then you'll have nothing to distract you from your painting,' said Barak. Traugott Sorensen chuckled. 'Aren't they just like Ilse and Peter, my dear?' he said to his wife. `Far from it,' Barak disagreed. 'Do sit down, Miss Prenn. I can't stand women who hover.' Nicola sat down hastily. 'I do not hover,' she protested indignantly. `You do. And you rise,' Barak said expressionlessly. `Traugott, I suppose you'll take Miss Prenn over the farm in order to decide where she wants to paint you?' `Yes, we'll go after breakfast it that suits you, Nicola,' said Traugott. `I'm looking forward to it,' she said happily. 'What I've seen of this area so far has been incredibly beautiful.' `Is this your first acquaintance with the Soutpansberg?' asked Barak.
65 Nicola nodded. 'Yes. In fact, a great deal of the whole Transvaal is strange country to me. I know the Magaliesberg range well, and I once spent a month painting in and around Pilgrims' Rest, but that's about all.' `You've done most of your work in Natal and the Golden Gate area of the Free State, haven't you?' She nodded, surprised that he should know this. There was an additional hint of colour in her highboned cheeks as she said hastily, 'Why is this range called the Soutpansberg?' `It was named after the saltpan discovered here by some Voortrekkers,' he told her as Melanie came on to the veranda. `Uncle Barak, I'm going to Louis Trichardt this afternoon,' the child soberly informed her uncle as she took her place at the table. `You must ask Aunt Ellen about that,' he said, again with that softening of the features Nicola had noticed in him when his attention was focused on his niece. `She might not be able to take you down.' `Will you please, Aunt Ellen?' Melanie asked politely as she started on her slice of paw-paw. `Very well, dear,' Ellen Sorensen said amicably. Barak stood up. 'And don't forget that Mrs Graeme is expecting her this morning,' he reminded Ellen. `Melanie, you're not to go wandering about on your own until I tell you so. Van Zyl rang up earlier-to say we of their farm dogs has gone missing, and there's reason to believe the animal has rabies.' `O.K.' Melanie said calmly, continuing to eat. `Promise me.' The grey eyes were compelling. WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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`Promise,' Melanie said obediently, looking up at him. Nicola was aware of a brief moment of contact between man and child as their eyes met, one pair light grey and the other pair a shadowy and mysterious grey. There had been an understanding communication in the look they shared. `That goes for you too, Miss Prenn,' Barak said as he moved away front the table. `Very well,' Nicola said meekly. He addressed Traugott : 'They're searching for the dog this morning. Excuse me, please.' Traugott escorted Nicola round part of the farm that morning. It was, as she had already known, a beautiful farm, with some smooth open slopes on the mountain, other rocky areas, and shady secret places where the great old mountain ashes whispered the secrets of the wind. On the lower slopes of the mountain, Nicola paused, entranced by the layers and layers of blue mountains folding upon each other in the hazy distance ahead of her. There was so much here. The blue vista in front of her, the big ,brown mountain- at her back protectively standing guard over the house below. Here a plantation of gum-trees, shrouding the spaces between them in gloom; there a peaceful dreaming scene,' with smooth-coated sheep grazing on a grassy slope, tended by a solitary small black boy wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts. Their occasional bleats drifted on the wind and came to the ears of Nicola and the elderly man who stood with her on another slope, near a semi-circle of ashes. Near them too was the windmill and below it the round dam, Melanie's suggestions for the setting of the '
67 portrait. Traugott laughed when Nicola told him and they agreed to look elsewhere. So now they stood, at a height considerably above the house, having finally made their decision. After telling him something of what she planned, Nicola's eyes wandered again to the scene below them, drawn inexorably to where Barak Sorensen was addressing a group of Venda labourers near one of the avocado plantations. He moved easily among them, pausing now and then, to talk, yet his was a proud bearing. Very much the owner of the land, Nicola thought. Someone not to be humbled, not ever ... and she had incurred his disapproval, she thought with a sigh. If the godhead was angry, the ground would tremble. But ... oh no; she shook her head, her lips moving slightly, in the grip of some emotion so strong that it was almost as if her soul was possessed by an alien spirit. Freeing herself from the bonds of imagination, she turned to look up at the mountain, then at the old man beside her. 'Do you ever go up there?' she asked, gesturing towards the topmost heights which were crowded with rocks and bushes, still and sunlit. `Quite often,' Traugott told her. 'It's a favourite treat of Melanie's—to be taken up so that she can see what's on the other side.' `What is?' `Bushveld, rocks, more hills. It's uncultivated on the other side.' `It's a fascinating farm,' Nicola commented, still looking about her. She pushed back her auburn hair. `And the sheep? Are they just for mutton?' `Yes, it's a very small flock,' said Traugott. WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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The man who was employed to care for the gardens and terraced lawns below the house brought her easel and the canvas she had decided to use up to them after they had decided on a spot. She didn't start painting that day, however. She and Traugott discussed what he ought to be wearing for the portrait—everyday working clothes because it would be a portrait of a farmer—and Nicola studied him in various poses from different angles, trying out first one, then the other, until she was satisfied. She made a few marks on her canvas and took a few sketches which she would study at her leisure, and they agreed that the mornings should be devoted to the work. Nicola hoped Traugott wouldn't tire too quickly when she required him to pose for her. He was elderly, and the weather was of the draining, midsummer kind which sapped the strength. `What's that building over there?' Nicola asked as they returned to the farmhouse a little later. She pointed to a long, new-looking building. 'It doesn't look as if it's used.' `It's not,' Traugott confirmed. 'Barak wants to have his own herd of cows, just for our own supply of dairy products, just in the same way that nearly all our meat comes from his sheep, and that building is in anticipation of them. But he won't purchase his herd while this family down in the valley continues to need what we pay them ... and they need every cent that's coming in at present, and then they only just manage. At first, Barak intended to go ahead and get his herd, continuing to pay them for the milk we get, but in the end he
69 decided against it—they'd recognise charity and probably be embarrassed by it.' Nicola was silent, annoyed to be hearing this. She disliked the strange Barak Sorensen, so she didn't want to hear any good of him. It made her feel resentful, because she was impressed, not simply by his kindness to some struggling family, but by his sensitivity in perceiving what their feelings might be if he had purchased his cows and continued to get the farm's milk from theirs. It spoke of an awareness of others, and Nicola found that she didn't want any good qualities attributed to Barak, and for her, kindness was golden and above any great virtue or lofty ideal. When they returned to the house, Ellen provided them with coffee. 'Have you agreed on where it's to be?' she asked. Traugott nodded. `Up near the semi-circle of ashes, overlooking the plantation. You know where I mean, don't you?' `Yes. I must come up and watch you at work some time.' Ellen turned to Nicola. 'Or are you one of those artists who objects to being watched?' Nicola laughed. 'Not at all. Once I'm absorbed in something, I wouldn't notice if I had all Africa looking over my shoulder ... although I expect I'll probably be self-conscious about attempting a portrait. Oh, Mr Sorensen, I do hope it turns out to be a success.' `Just give it a good try, that's all I ask,' he said, smiling at her. His blue eyes twinkled. `If it's your payment you're worried about, you can rest assured that you'll receive it whatever the portrait looks like. After all, you'll have given your time to it, if nothing else. I don't WALK IN THE SHADOWS
70 WALK IN THE SHADOWS know if Barak discussed terms with your father in Johannesburg?' Nicola shook her head absently. 'Oh, it's not the money I'm worried about. It's just that in the event of its being a failure, I'll feel so ashamed ... I'll feel I ought not to have accepted the assignment.' `There has to be a first attempt for everything you do,' Ellen recited comfortingly. 'Nicola, I expect you'd like to see more of Soutpansberg while you're here? I was wondering if you'd help me out by taking Melanie over to the Graeme farm for a short while this morning? You have a car, and it's an interesting drive, not too far. Melanie never stays long as Mrs Graeme tires very easily. It's a shame, really—she's still a young woman, younger than me. Of course, Vanessa's death and now the problems concerning Denise have taken their toll. Anyway, Melanie can direct you if you'll do it.' `All right,' Nicola agreed. She was glad of the opportunity to see more of the surrounding countryside. Shortly afterwards she set off in the Volkswagen with Melanie beside her. The child had accepted the news that Nicola would be taking her to see her grandparents with her customary calmness. Nothing her, just as nothing, during Nicola's seemed to brief acquaintance with her, had made her smile. Nicola wondered if she would encounter Denise Graeme this morning. As they drove along the quiet mountain road, she asked Melanie, 'Do you visit your grandmother often?' `Every week,' Melanie replied. 'Uncle Barak says I must. Sometimes it's nice there, other times I just want
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to go home. Not like when I go to my friends' farms— then I want to stay.' `Have you a lot of friends?' `Some. Uncle Barak is my best friend. But sometimes I don't want any of them ... and then there aren't any people for me; I'm all empty inside.' Lonely? Nicola wondered. 'But you need people, don't you?' `Sometimes,' Melanie said guardedly, giving her a sidelong glance. 'When you've been empty for too long.' How solitary, how—as the child herself had said— empty. Did it stem from the tragedy that had touched her young life in the loss of her parents? Or was she that way inclined anyway? A naturally self-sufficient little person who found solitude no great hardship provided it wasn't endured for too long a period and there was the assurance of relief? `What sort of farm does your grandfather have? Also avocados?' Nicola asked. `No, bananas mainly,' Melanie told her. 'Do you like it here?' she asked abruptly. `So far I think this is very beautiful country,' Nicola said. `But what about us? The people? I didn't think they'd want you, but they do.' Traugott and Ellen, yes, but there was somebody else who certainly did not, Nicola thought. Barak certainly didn't want her here. She said, 'I hardly know you, but I think I shall like you as a family. You're all such interesting people.' She liked Traugott and his wife already, Melanie intrigued her ... But Barak ...
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`D'you think we're lucky to live here?' `Oh yes,' Nicola assured her young inquisitor with a smile. `So do I,' said Melanie. 'I used to live in Pietersburg when I was small, but this is nice except that my mother and father aren't here.' It was very calmly said, and Nicola wondered at it. `You live in Johannesburg, don't you?' Melanie continued, and Nicola nodded her affirmation. 'We go there sometimes. Last time Uncle Barak took me to a place called the Skyrink, way up high, and I skated. That was at the beginning of the Christmas holidays. He went back on New Year's Eve. He wasn't supposed to. We were all going to have a party at the farm, and everybody was coming—and so we did, only Uncle Barak wasn't there, and neither were Auntie Denise and Mr Baxter.' `I expect you had a nice enough time, even without them,' Nicola said cheerfully. `It wasn't the same,' Melanie argued stolidly. 'You see, Granny rang up Uncle Barak in the day and told him Auntie Denise was gone—and he was very cross and he said something very rude about Mr Baxter, and the next thing we knew he was getting out his car and driving off. Shall I tell you what it was he said about Mr Baxter?' `No, you'd better not,' Nicola warned her hastily. `Your uncle might be cross if he thought you'd told me. I go past these crossroads, do I?' Melanie assured her that she did. Nicola's mind was on what the child had told her. Barak had said something rude about Todd Baxter : had he merely sus-
73 pected the man of giving his fun-seeking fiancé a lift to the party in the city, or of something more than that? `Mrs Baxter came to our party on her own. She's a funny lady,' Melanie resumed. 'And when Uncle Barak came back from Jo'burg, he was still angry.' Perhaps the scene she and Todd had enacted for the benefit of his engagement hadn't served to fully erase Barak's suspicions, Nicola thought. Or he might just have been annoyed at having his New Year plans disrupted by Denise's flight and the need to go after her. .`I think Uncle Barak might marry Auntie Denise,' Melanie announced gravely. 'If nothing better turns up.' Nicola laughed. It sounded so funny; as if it was a job Barak was thinking of taking, instead of a wife. `Will you like that?' `Don't know,' Melanie shrugged. 'Then she'd come and live with us, wouldn't she? She'd love that— Auntie Denise likes our house and farm. That's why I think it's silly when people say she's just like my mother, because Mummy hated farms. Auntie Denise likes ours, even though she doesn't like Granny and Grandpa's one.' Nicola wondered where Melanie had learned all this Was it talk she had overheard, or had she drawn these conclusions herself? It sounded as if she didn't want to believe Denise was like her mother. `We turn through the next gate on the right,' Melanie directed her just then. The Graeme farm was not on such a large scale as the Sorensen one, and there were no avocado plantations, only rows and rows of banana trees. The house WALK IN THE SHADOWS
74 WALK IN THE SHADOWS too was small; it wouldn't have more than four bedrooms, Nicola judged; but it was an attractive little building, set in a neat garden, and its interior was just as tidy as the little lawn outside. Everything spotless and in its place, kept scrupulously free of dust, the woodwork shining softly. It wouldn't take much time to achieve this result, -though, as the rooms were very small. But perhaps Mrs Graeme ought to let things go a little, Nicola thought when she met the woman, who welcomed her pleasantly. Melanie's grandmother was a young woman—in her early fifties, Nicola judged— yet the face which would once have been as smooth as Denise's was lined and haggard, while the tawny hair showed streaks of grey. She looked so careworn, and her manner suggested that she had worries constantly nagging at her mind, even while she talked to Melanie, whom she patently adored. Nicola felt a pang of compassion for Mrs Graeme. How terrible to lose your daughter! Vanessa's death would make Melanie all the more precious to her; the legacy Vanessa had left, so like her, and the only grandchild so far. But there would probably be more ... If Denise bore Barak's children, they and Melanie would be double cousins, Nicola realised. Mr Graeme, a quiet man a few years senior to his wife, came in to greet his grandchild and ask her how she had been spending her time and whether she was looking forward to going into standard two when the schools re-opened the following week, but he soon excused himself, saying he was required at the banana plantations.
75 When he had gone, Mrs Graeme sighed and said to Nicola, 'My husband has to work so hard. It's still some years before he's due to retire. We're hoping to live in town after that. I came from Pretoria and although I've become accustomed to rural living, I've always been homesick for the town. Melanie's mother took after me in that respect. In fact, her feelings on the matter were much stronger than mine; she genuinely hated farm life, so I was glad when she married Karl Sorensen as it meant she would be living in Pietersburg.' According to Ellen, it was due to her desire to escape the farming life that Vanessa's choice had fallen on Karl, even though she had had an affair with Barak. `Of course, Vanessa was very young when she married,' Mrs Graeme was saying dreamily, her eyes fixed on Melanie who was astride a leather pouffe and riding it as if it were a horse. Nicola knew that the woman was seeing her daughter again in the child with her smooth face. 'She was eighteen, Denise's present age. Now Denise is different—she doesn't have such a deeply rooted dislike of farming. It irks her a bit to be so far from the city with its gaiety and exciting pace, and I know she wants to get away from here, but I think she'd be content to live on Barak's farm if she married him. The house is bigger, for one thing, and Barak can better afford to give her treats than we can. The Sorensens have never been cut off from the cities. You must meet Denise, Miss Prenn—she'll be interested in you. She's a great admirer of your father's work.' Nicola was silent, wondering if she ought to admit to having already met Denise. Barak had decided to WALK IN THE SHADOWS
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 76 keep Ellen and Traugott in ignorance of the events of New Year's Eve. Did he expect the same policy to be applied to others? She would have to play it by ear, , Nicola decided. Denise hadn't known who she was that night. Besides, it was highly unlikely that she would have given her parents the details of the party she had gone to with Todd Baxter, thereby disrupting the New Year party at Barak's farm. Denise herself came in, just as Nicola and Melanie were preparing to leave. She looked elegant and sophisticated in a tan dress, her shining mane of tawny hair swinging about her shoulders. At first she didn't recognise Nicola, and her face maintained its impassive expression as Mrs Graeme introduced them. It was only when Nicola said, 'Hullo,' very politely, that recollection and recognition flickered briefly in the tawny eyes as Nicola's voice was recalled. Denise's lips parted slightly and she looked ready to exclaim over Nicola's presence. An instant later, her face was blandly smooth again as she said, 'How do you do? I suppose Traugott Sorensen thought you were the next best thing to your father!' `I hope the opinion proves justified,' Nicola commented drily. Someone else entered the room. 'You get around so fast, Denise, that I can't keep up with you,' said Todd Baxter, flicking back a lock of floppy brown hair. His eyes lighted on Nicola, and there was no concealment of his recognition. 'Why, Nicola! What in the world are you doing up here? I was imagining you in Johannesburg, or wandering about the Magaliesberg. You should have let me know you'd be in this area.'
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`Hullo, Todd,' Nicola said indifferently. 'I didn't know your farm was in the Soutpansberg until Mr Sorensen told me last night.' `She's here to paint Uncle Traugott,' Melanie added. `How nice that you know each other,' Mrs Graeme said delightedly. Denise glanced meaningly at Todd and nodded slightly in her. mother's direction. 'Yes, Todd, you ought to have told me you knew Nicola Prenn. You know how much I admire her father.' Todd looked at her sharply and apparently grasped the situation, because he smiled and said easily, 'Oh, I've known Robert Prenn for some time now, and I've met Nicola occasionally when I've been visiting him in Johannesburg.' 'And you never told us,' Denise said reproachfully. `How selfish of you, Todd!' She turned to Nicola. `I've got a picture of your father's in my bedroom—a view of Cathkin Peak in the Drakensberg. Barak gave it to me for my last birthday. Wouldn't you like to see it? I love it. Do come.' Nicola took the hint. Denise wanted to talk to her out of Mrs Graeme's presence. She excused herself and followed the tall slim girl from the room. `What on earth is going on?' Denise demanded in her breathless young voice, once they were out of earshot. 'I had no idea you were Nicola Prenn when I met you the other night.' `I had no idea that the man you were with would turn out to be Barak Sorensen with whom my father made arrangements for me to paint Traugott,' Nicola
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retorted as she was ushered into a small but smart bedroom. The view of Cathkin Peak was the first thing she noticed on entering. The boldly executed painting was too large for such a small room, and shouldn't have been hidden away in a bedroom in any case, she thought. If she had owned it, she would have hung it somewhere public so that its majesty could be shared. `But what's the position?' Denise Graeme asked, lowering herself on to the bed in a gracefully liquid movement. 'I don't want my parents to know what occurred last week.' `If they find out, it won't be from me,' Nicola promised the girl. Those two middle-aged people didn't deserve to suffer any more worry than they already had. `And Barak?' Denise persisted. 'You haven't told him what really happened, have you?' `Of course not,' Nicola replied impatiently. 'I don't want to cause trouble for you.' `Thanks,' Denise said casually. 'Silence is our policy, then. I'm grateful to you, Nicola. I don't want any trouble to come between Barak and me. What I did on New Year's Eve was in the nature of showing my hand. I wanted to spur him into action. Unfortunately things got a bit out of hand with regard to Todd.' `I see,' Nicola answered, for want of anything better to say. She glanced at Denise's hands. Apart from the huge tiger's eye ring on the right hand, her fingers were innocent of jewellery. Presumably the engagement was still unofficial, then, but very much taken for granted. What action was required of Barak? A definite proposal? Or was Denise trying to make him see her as an individual, rather than Vanessa's young sister? She
79 ought to be satisfied. He had gone chasing after her all the way to Johannesburg, deserting his family on New Year's Eve. Denise looked at her speculatively. `Your appearance is so different from what it was the other night. Did Barak recognise you?' Nicola nodded. `He was so wholeheartedly convinced by the position in which you found Todd and me on that veranda that I'm now under the black cloud of .his disapproval.' `Poor you,' Denise gurgled. `I can imagine ! It's not that he's narrow minded about such things. He hasn't remained celibate by any means in reaching the age of thirty-seven, but he's always felt sorry for Hilary Baxter, and of course, he can't stand Todd.' `Yet Todd is a visitor to your house?' Denise shrugged. `Todd can be fun. I'll lose my freedom soon enough, when I marry Barak.' Nicola frowned slightly. Things weren't as they should be, and she couldn't resist meddling. She said tentatively, `If you look on it that way, why rush into marriage? You're only eighteen.' `I might lose him if I ask him to wait,' said Denise, her slim hands smoothing the skirt of her dress. How terrible, not to be sure of your man, Nicola thought. `He's so very much older than you,' she commented thoughtfully. `Oh, the age gap in itself is of little account,' Denise dismissed it easily. 'After all, he has the marriage of Ellen and Traugott for encouragement. Ellen is fifteen years younger than her husband, and look how successful their mariagehasben.But ark'sageonits WALK IN THE SHADOWS
80 WALK IN THE SHADOWS own ... he wants a son, I suppose, and not too late in life. He's an impatient man, so I can't risk asking for a few years' freedom.' If he loved her, he might wait, Nicola thought, although Barak Sorensen was the sort of man to get his own way. But if it was merely the old, much-mocked male need to perpetuate himself ... then yes, she could imagine that in asking for time, Denise would lose him altogether, and some other woman would be chosen to produce his heir. But wasn't it the memory of Vanessa that made him want Denise? `How well do you know Todd?' Denise asked abruptly. `As he said, we've met a few times at my father's house,' said Nicola. 'I can hardly claim to know him well. There was our meeting on -New Year's Eve ... but even under those circumstances, we parted immediately after you and Mr Sorensen had gone.' `I see,' Denise said thoughtfully. 'Funny the way things work out ... when we were returning from Johannesburg, Barak told me he had talked to Robert Prenn on first arriving at the party, and that they had arranged for his daughter to come up and paint Traugott. Imagine it turning out to be you!' `Imagine,' Nicola repeated drily. 'Hadn't we better be getting back to the others? They'll be wondering why I'm taking so long to look at my father's picture.' Denise stood up elegantly. 'It's fantastic, isn't it? Yes, I suppose we'd better go ... We've agreed on silence then, have we?' `Certainly,' Nicola assured her curtly. She took a last look at the lowering, potentially explosive gloom of the
81 mountain Robert Prenn had painted on some bleak evening, and wondered what the man, whose honesty spoke through his work, would say to the intricacies of deception in which she had involved herself. They returned to the lounge, to find Melanie desirous of leaving. 'We have to be back for lunch, and after that I'm going shopping in Louis Trichardt,' the little girl explained. `We'd better go, then,' Nicola agreed. `I must be off too,' said Todd. 'I came over on foot, but you can give me a lift, can't you, Nicola? It's on your way.' It was the last thing she wanted to do, finding him such distasteful company, but with Mrs Graeme looking on, she was forced to acquiesce. `Then I'll have to sit in the back,' Melanie said sourly. They said goodbye to Mrs Graeme and her daughter, and Nicola started the car, with Todd beside her and Melanie on the back seat. `What do you think of this backwater I've had to make my home?' Todd asked when, they were on their way. `I'm enchanted,' Nicola said shortly. He hadn't had to make it his home. It was only because Hilary Baxter had been a wealthy woman that he had obliged himself to live here, and even so, his trips to Johannesburg were frequent. They didn't talk much on the journey and presently they approached a gate. Todd indicated that it led to his wife's farm and Nicola stopped the car. `Goodbye, Todd,' she said. WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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`Get out, Nicola,' he told her quietly. `Why?' He glanced significantly at Melanie, who stared back at him stonily. 'There are things to be said.' Reluctantly Nicola got out of the Volkswagen and they stood next to the gate. `I take it that Denise's mother is to remain in ignorance of the happenings on New Year's Eve?' `That's right,' Nicola said irritably. She was tired of feeling herself to be in a web, and above all, she was tired of Todd Baxter. `And Sorensen?' `Well, obviously he must remain under the impression that he gained, then,' she said sarcastically. 'It was for his benefit, wasn't it?' `And Denise's,' Todd said with a grin. 'Do we reinforce that impression?' `Definitely not,' said Nicola, aware of Melanie's incurious stare. The child had climbed into the front seat. `Why not?' Todd drawled. 'You won't be spending all your time on painting that autocratic old man, will you? It's wonderful having you in the Soutpansberg. We could have a good time together, Nicola.' `Have your good times with Denise,' she retorted rudely. Then, 'Haven't you any respect for her nearengagement ... or for your own marriage?' His smile was unrepentant. 'Life is for living, Nicola darling. Denise is a nice little girl and if she wants to use me to help bring Barak Sorensen up to scratch, then I'm not objecting. She's very attractive.' `I feel sorry for her,' Nicola snapped, turning back
83 towards the car. 'One man is trying to make her a substitute for her dead sister; the other is merely amusing himself at her expense. She'll probably end up with a severe complex.' Todd caught at her hands, arresting her progress. He laughed. 'Not Denise. You don't know her very well, Nicola. She knows exactly where she stands with both Sorensen and me, and the light in which we regard her, and she's not unsatisfied. The situation suits her.' `If she's satisfied, then why is she anxious about marrying Barak Sorensen?' Nicola argued. 'Please let go of my hands, Todd. Melanie and I have to get back to the farm.' 'Not yet,' he said, as a gleaming station-wagon went past, travelling in the direction of Louis Trichardt. `When can I see you again?' `Never, I hope,' Nicola said bluntly. She succeeded in snatching her hands away from him and returned to the car. 'Sorry about that,' she apologised to Melanie. 'That was Uncle Barak who went past,' Melanie informed her. Nicola closed her eyes as she slammed the door. Damn! Had he seen them? Oh, drat Todd Baxter! No one else had ever caused her so much embarrassment. `Don't you like Mr Baxter?' Melanie asked. 'No,' said Nicola, too annoyed to put a guard on her tongue. `Why were you holding his hands, then?' `I wasn't—he was holding mine. There's a difference.' WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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`Oh.' Melanie thought about it for a while. 'Yes, I see,' she said finally, sounding satisfied. Nicola had managed to calm down by the time they reached the farm and sat down to lunch with Ellen and Traugott. `Barak had to go into Louis Trichardt,' Ellen explained. 'Perhaps he passed you when you were on your way home from the Graemes'?' Melanie said, 'Yes; he waved to me.' Nicola looked at the child curiously. There had been no mention of what the circumstances had been at the time of Barak's passing them. Melanie's grey eyes, as they met hers, were limpid and guileless, so that Nicola's cheeks turned pink. Melanie would regard it as being Nicola's prerogative to explain what had been happening, and in her silence, Nicola set an example of passive deception. Yet wasn't the child herself engaging in the same thing? Another child might have qualified Melanie's brief statement by describing the place and the action, giving little thought to whether silence might not be more tactful. After the meal, when Ellen and Melanie had set off for Louis Trichardt, Nicola decided to make the most of the ring of entrancing views surrounding the elegant farmhouse. She was not to work on the portrait in the afternoons, and Traugott had wandered out of the house after lunch was over—in order, he explained, to examine the strawberry patch which was one of the great interests of his retirement. She would start painting the mountain behind the house, paint it warmed by the sun. It was a rugged
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 85 enough feature of the land for her taste, while escaping the towering, almost oppressive grandeur of the Drakensberg her father loved to paint and she could not, because she lacked a greatness in her art which Robert possessed, so that for him, nothing was too big to be the subject of his talent, nothing too ambitious. But this roughly hewn mountain rising above the house was for her ... she would avoid the claustrophobia engendered by the Drakensberg, such a mass of land, but all rising upwards instead of spreading outwards. As always Nicola worked vigorously, driven by the sense of urgency which came when there was a canvas to be filled and a view before her. She was working from the lawn between the house and the gum-trees, unconscious of the living sounds about her, so that she was startled when a shadow fell over her shoulder, and her hand wavered in executing what ought to have been a firm stroke of brown. She turned her head sharply to confront the unamused grey eyes which regarded her. Nicola was immediately conscious of her untidy appearance. She had changed into the pair of jeans which had been her standard wear when she had been at art school, and her loose top had once been an attractive shade of green, but long hours spent working in the sun had faded it and her paint brushes had been applied more than once to its front. Her shining hair was caught back at the nape of her neck, but straggling wisps had escaped, making her look much younger than her twenty-three years. `You gave me a fright,' she said accusingly. `I beg your pardon,' said Barak Sorensen. He glanced
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casually at what she had painted so far. 'Does this take priority over Todd Baxter?' `I told you that he meant nothing to me now,' said Nicola, not quite capable of commanding the defiance of tone she had deemed suitable to the remark. She thought she knew what was coming. `Yes?' The one sardonic word called her a liar. 'So you did. I had hoped, for Hilary's sake, that it was true.' `And you know that it wasn't?' `We appear to understand each other,' he said coldly. `I wondered if you had noticed me, and thought perhaps that only Melanie had done so. Miss Prenn, I have no wish whatsoever to interfere in an affair that doesn't concern me, but when I think of my niece being forced to witness ... In future, if you make an assignation with Baxter, please be good enough to arrange it for a time when Melanie is not present.' `Yes, sir,' she murmured, not intending him to hear, but he did. `You find a child's involvement amusing?' `Certainly not. But she wasn't involved. What happened this morning was unavoidable.' `Nothing is unavoidable,' Barak stated in a controlled voice which belied the anger she sensed in him. `To gods perhaps ... but not to mere mortals,' Nicola retorted. 'What are you so worried about? I won't be here long enough to influence Melanie in any way. You need have no fear of her morals being exposed to my corruptive example.' `Who said anything about morality? It's a question of people's feelings. Melanie might quite easily let
87 Hilary Baxter know that you and her husband are having an affair.' `Todd and I are not having an affair,' Nicola stated quietly. 'But is it wise for Mrs Baxter to remain in ignorance of the sort of life Todd is leading? The longer illusions are fostered, the more painful the awakening will be.' `I doubt if Mrs Baxter has any illusions about her husband,' Barak said cynically. 'I should think she knows him better than anyone else. But she does have a modicum of pride, and that's what I'm thinking of. A child won't be concerned about who is present—she'll just speak out in any company.' `Not Melanie,' Nicola said with a short laugh. 'She's a very old little person. She could have mentioned ... what .you saw to Mrs Sorsensen at lunch today, when she asked if we had seen you go past, but she kept her counsel.' `Had you asked her to? I won't have the child trained in deception.' `You misjudge me, Mr Sorensen. I've no idea of Melanie's motives, but her silence on the subject was not the result of any prompting from me.' Nicola sighed and added with her customary honesty, 'It made me feel guilty.' His eyes were speculative as they searched her face. `Is that true?' `Why shouldn't it be?' `You haven't given me any reason to think of you as a truthful person, have you?' he said. 'You told me last night that your affair with Baxter was a thing of the past, but today I drive past the pair of you holding WALK IN THE SHADOWS
88 WALK IN THE SHADOWS hands at the gate of Hilary's farm. What if she had driven out on her way to town? Didn't you think of that?' `You said she had no illusions about Todd,' Nicola retaliated in a flat tired voice. She stared miserably at the buttons of the soft blue shirt he was wearing. Oh, if only she could make him believe that her mythical affair with Todd was finished ! That there had been an affair, existing still on New Year's Eve, he must continue to believe, because she had made a promise to Denise Graeme. But to continue to live a lie, a lie forced on her ... it was unthinkable. She couldn't have this man thinking that she was still engaged in an affair with Todd Baxter ... in Hilary Baxter's home territory. Oh, not because she cared what Barak's opinion of her might be, Nicola assured herself, but because ... the deceit in which she had involved herself was intolerable to her. So she said, 'I told you the truth last night. What you saw this morning ... well, haven't you heard of lingering and painful deaths?' She managed a rueful smile. `That isn't the way it happens,' Barak said harshly. `The way you talk ... I think you know very little about love, Nicola.' `Oh, love, love,' she said scornfully. 'What is it about love, when you think of all ...' She was incoherent, and she paused to allow her angry hazel eyes to sweep over the big brown mountain, the other blue faraway mountains, the tall trees and smooth expanses of grass. `When you think of all that there is in the world, the magnitude of the solid earth masses, and the great-
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 89 nesses that aren't love, aren't even human ... then isn't love a very small thing, a very petty thing? There's more, much more than love ! There's Abruptly she lifted her eyes to the brown mountain again, then lowered them to her canvas. She drew a strong finger viciously through the paint, smearing brown and red, as she had often done before when fingers seemed to give more to her art than a brush could. 'Much more,' she reiterated. Barak shook his head and his eyes were a darker grey than she had seen them before. His voice was still harsh as he said, 'You're just a child, then, untouched by love ... that which possesses the soul. Otherwise you wouldn't talk that way. It's very clever, and artists and poets and musicians do it a lot, but I don't think even the truly great ones mean it. And you're a good artist, Nicola, but never a great one. You can't match your father. You mean what you say now, because you don't know otherwise. You don't know love. I don't know what your life-style is. You may have had innumerable lovers ... but you can't have loved, or you wouldn't talk that way. You're totally unawakened.' She was angry, because he made her feel so young, and it was all true anyway. She was untouched by love. There had never been any experience of it, either physically or spiritually, because her passions were always feeble flames, quenched even before they could begin to demand fulfilment. She said sharply, 'You don't understand what it is to be driven ... as I am.' `By your art? It's just a career. Oh, it may possess you, and I can understand that. It isn't only the arts that have that power—the land has it too; it can lift a
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man up or drag him down, but that possession is not supreme.' `And you who know so much of love,' she taunted outrageously. 'Don't even you make it shoddy by seeking to replace the loved one with the sister? Even Melanie ... I think you only care for her because she looks like Vanessa, because she's Vanessa's child. She probably senses it and that's what makes her so strange and serious.' His eyes were very dangerous, and again she thought how the colour of them had changed. They were dark, smouldering with something Nicola couldn't quite comprehend. `Evidently Ellen has taken you through every step of our lives,' Barak said roughly. 'How can a child like you possibly begin to understand? So kindly withhold ypur opinions in future. You've no right to an explanation, but yes, I loved Vanessa ten years ago when she was eighteen. We had an affair, but when it came to marriage ... Karl wasn't a farmer. But you do me an injustice if you think my feeling for Melanie is based solely on Vanessa's memory. I love the child for her own sake, and you can have no idea of the factors that have gone into moulding her into the strange person you find her.' He made no mention of Denise. Nicola by now was feeling horrified by what she had said, by the personal remarks she had made and by the man's reaction. She put a hand to her trembling lips and said shakily, `I'm sorry, Barak; I had no right to say such things to you. I can't possibly know the circumstances, and anyway, it's no business of mine '
91 His dark face was 'totally expressionless, but Nicola knew it would be a long time before she forgot what had passed between them a few seconds earlier, before the memory of his anger would be dimmed. `Then we understand each other. My life and emotions don't concern you, and I have no interest in your affair with Baxter, as it was, or is.' `Was,' she said, because she wanted him to believe that. `Very well,' he said. He turned to go, then suddenly faced her again. His smile was sardonic. 'You might say that we have communicated this afternoon, even if it took the form of disagreement on a highly emotive level.' He strode away from her, a tall man going up towards the windmill, and Nicola stared after him, her hazel eyes oddly blank. She drew a deep, shaking breath and turned back to her canvas, but its hold on her had been loosened and she was no longer its .captive. She made an effort, but the mountain had lost the magic it had held for her, and the encounter with Barak Sorensen had left her feeling drained and exhausted, so presently she packed up and returned to the house. They had called each other by their first names, she realised as she changed out of the old jeans and faded top. At dinner that night, the man had reverted to his customary distant manner when addressing Nicola, and she was annoyed to find herself feeling chagrined because of it. In his eyes she had again become insignificant, a mere cipher, evoking little interest in him, WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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and it proved unexpectedly disappointing for Nicola. After the small spark that had flared briefly as a result of verbal collision that afternoon, she felt that there ought to have been something more now ... But there was nothing, not even a brief flicker of stirring interest in the icy grey eyes which occasionally came to rest on her face with hurtful indifference. Because she was annoyed, Nicola's resentment of him was heightened, but even as she entertained uncomplimentary thoughts about him, there kept returning to her the oddly distracting memory of the way he had spoken, with darkened grey eyes, of Melanie's mother. She didn't understand him, and some measure of frustration rested on her now, leaving her with a feeling of bewilderment. But—oh, what did it matter? Nicola shrugged mentally. Presumably Barak Sorensen had suffered over Vanessa, but for all that he was a strange, intolerant man. He was hard, and she didn't like him. There were others close to him who might be able to reach him; but with sudden insight-she realised that he was a man who would never ask for anything, never admit to needing anything : he would only endeavour to provide his own help, and in this matter, he sought to make Denise Graeme a substitute for Vanessa. She wondered how deeply Denise's likeness to Vanessa went. What had Vanessa been like? It was possible that Denise's resemblance to her older sister had been built up in the minds of these people in the four years since Vanessa's death, the consequence of clinging morbidly to a memory, ever seeking reminders.
93 Barak rose early from the table, informing his assembled relatives that he was going over to visit the Graeme family and he didn't know when he would be back. `Have they found that dog suspected of having rabies yet?' Traugott asked just before Barak left. `Not yet. Of course, it may be miles away by now,' Barak said. 'But I don't want Melanie roaming about on her own as she usually does until we've heard they've found the animal.' Nicola spent a quiet evening in the lounge with Ellen and Traugott. Quite early on, the telephone rang and Sarah came to call Nicola. Surprised, Nicola went into the hall and picked up the receiver. `Hullo?' `Nicola? It's Todd here,' said the voice which she was beginning to find a source of irritation. `What do you want?' she demanded rudely. She heard him laugh at the other end of the line. `That's a charming way to speak to an old friend! I thought you might be feeling out of place in this alien territory, and as I'm someone you knew in Jo'burg, I thought I'd cheer you up.' `Don't be ridiculous,' she snapped. 'This isn't the South Pole and I'm not going to spend the rest of my life here.' `Lucky you; it's just what I might have to do,' said Todd. 'Look, how about my coming over to the farm? I happen to know that Sorensen is with Denise this evening, so I'm at a loose end.' `You have a wife, remember,' snapped Nicola. 'And WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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thanks very much, Todd, but I've no desire to provide you with my company just because Denise isn't available for the evening. Why don't you leave that girl alone, anyway? She's practically engaged to Barak. Doesn't your ego object to being second best with her?' `I wouldn't be so foolish as to jib at accepting the crumbs that fall from the rich man's table,' Todd replied with a laugh. 'So shall I come over, Nicola darling?' `No,' she said shortly. 'And I mean that, Todd. If you turn up here, I shall refuse to see you. I've had enough of you to last me a lifetime !' She put the receiver down without troubling to say goodbye, and returned to the lounge. Ellen looked up from the chessboard over which she and her husband were pondering. 'Was that your father ringing from the city, Nicola?' Nicola hesitated, then shook her head. 'It was Todd Baxter. He's acquainted with my father, and I've met him a few times in Johannesburg. He knew I was here, so he rang up.' It was as honest as she could make it, and Nicola wanted nothing more to do with deceit. `You'll probably be seeing him while you're here then,' Ell en told her 'At the braaivleis on Saturday, at any rate I think he and Hilary have been invited.' Braaivleis?' `Didn't we tell you?' said Traugott. 'It's for Melanie's sake, really; to make up for Barak's having to miss the New Year's Eve affair we had here. She was so disappointed and we promised her this.' `It won't be a big affair,' Ellen said. 'Ilse and Peter and the children will be coming from Messina for the
95 weekend. They'll leave after Peter finishes work on Friday evening. Let me see—who else is coming, Traugott? There'll be the Baxters, the Graemes ... oh, and several other parties ... and you, of course, Nicola.' `Thank you,' smiled Nicola. 'But will it be a dressy sort of braai, or the traditional use-your-fingers-andwear-jeans sort?' Ellen looked thoughtful. 'We'll be having it a little way up the hill. The younger women have usually worn a long skirt or something of that sort when we've had a braai in the past, haven't they, Traugott?' don't remember,' said Traugott. 'Perhaps you're right, Ellen. I seem to remember young Denise in something like that ... but she'd look charming in anything. Beautiful girl, Denise.' Yes, her beauty was part of the charm, Nicola thought later that night when she was awoken by the _sound of a car arriving. Barak, she supposed. She heard a clock chiming sweetly somewhere in the house ..,. one o'clock. WALK IN THE SHADOWS
CHAPTER FOUR FOR the next two mornings, Nicola worked hard at Traugott's portrait, anxious not to waste time. Ellen gave them a flask of coffee to take up the hill with them, so that they need not lose valuable time walking back to the house for refreshment. Traugott carried a rifle with him because, he explained, the rabid dog's where-
96 WALK IN THE SHADOWS abouts remained unknown, although a local man thought he had spotted the animal moving west from the top of a neighbouring hill which he had climbed while engaged in birdwatching activities. Nicola had begun the portiait tentatively, but as she became immersed in the familiar urgent need to fill the canvas, she started to work with all her customary enthusiasm, urged on by an eager desperation. At times, drawing back from the need for a whole picture which was her spur, she was afraid Traugott might be tired, but when she questioned him, he assured her that he felt fine, and he never complained. be sure to let you know if anything is wrong,' he told her when she remarked on it. `I never expected that you would prove such an easy subject,' she teased him. 'Why, you're quite docile ! I thought you'd be a tiger.' `Ach, so?' Traugott laughed. 'Perhaps I have mellowed in recent years. Now it takes a great deal to turn me into the tiger. You learn patience along with the years.' While actually working, Nicola never doubted her ability or the success of the portrait, but at odd moments, studying it, she was assailed by doubts, afraid that it wasn't going to be any good. Then she would want to start all over again. But Nicola, however, was wise to herself by now; it had happened so many times before. She couldn't judge the work until it was finished. And Traugott Sorensen, with his healthy complexion, thick white hair and startlingly blue eyes in conjunction with the fine figure he was and the highbred sculpting of his features, was at least someone in
97 whom she could take an interest and thus enjoy painting. On the Friday afternoon, Melanie came to Nicola on the enclosed veranda between their bedrooms. `Hullo,' Nicola said with a smile as the child planted herself in front of her. She still found the solemn countenance a barrier against any attempt to know the little girl. It was impossible to read the smoothly exquisite face, because nothing was ever written there, and the shadowy grey eyes spoke only of mysteries and secrets. `Hullo, Nicola,' Melanie answered politely. 'What are you doing?' Nicola indicated the sketches of Traugott on her lap. 'I'm just having a look at these.' 'Why?' `If I study them, it helps me when I'm painting your uncle.' `Oh.' Melanie considered the statement. 'How does it do that?' Nicola spread her hands. 'Oh, Melanie, it's hard to explain. I suppose that by studying, these sketches, I can fix in my mind what's required for the painting ... I like to be very sure, so that there's no hesitation when I'm working.' `Do you have to go on looking at them right now?' Nicola was puzzled. 'No, it's not essential. I can do it any time. Why?' `Nicola—?' Melanie paused. `What is it?' Nicola said kindly because for once Melanie had sounded doubtful. `Could you come for a walk with me?' Melanie reWALK IN THE SHADOWS
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 98 quested gravely. Then she hurried on, 'You see, I promised Uncle Barak I wouldn't go out far from the house on my own—because of that dog, you know? The one with rabies. Wouldn't it be awful if Donkey got rabies? He'd have to die then.' `Horrible,' Nicola agreed. 'Very well, Melanie, I'll come for a walk with you. Do you want to go right now?' `Yes, please,' said Melanie. 'Thank you very much, Nicola.' She was a very polite little girl, but Nicola thought an extra measure of casualness would have rendered her more like other children of her age. She was so very solemn. `Where are we going?' she asked as they left the house. `Up the hill a little. You don't mind, do you?' Melanie queried, sounding slightly anxious. 'Would you rather go another way?' `Of course not,' Nicola assured her. 'This whole farm is so beautiful that it makes no difference where one goes.' `But some places are better than others,' Melanie stated with assurance. 'Like the windmill, and the trees where you first saw me the other day. You might have run me over if you hadn't been going slowly.' `Yes,' Nicola agreed drily. 'It was silly of you to run across the road like that.' `I know,' Melanie confessed expressionlessly. She reverted to the subject of the farm. 'One of the nicest things is when we go up to the top of the mountain. The very top. Sometimes we have a picnic up there,
99 and there's short grass and we sit on it, under the trees, and there's always a hot wind blowing, and we look over the other side.' It sounds wonderful,' Nicola commented. Idyllic, she thought. So nice and normal. `But today,' Melanie continued, 'I feel like walking up the hill. It's hard, and either you go fast and get tired quickly, or you walk slowly and your legs hurt, and you feel as if you're pushing against something all the time, and it's trying to push you back downwards. But I like to do hard things sometimes, things that make me tired. Do you ever have that feeling?' `Quite often,' said Nicola. 'Usually when I'm in a temper.' But Melanie wouldn't be in a temper when she did it, not this stolid, stoical young girl. Did she ever feel enraged, or was there always the calm acceptance of whatever came her way? Perhaps the blows fate had already dealt her had taught her that passionate feelings were of little use. Things happened, and no amount of argument could change them. `Uncle Barak is just the same. I'm not, though,' Melanie confided. She cast Nicola a sidelong glance. `What puts you in a temper?' Nicola laughed softly. 'Oh, all sorts of things ; injustice; cruelty; people who insist on voicing their own opinions but aren't prepared to give anyone else with different views a hearing; blind people who simply won't see wrong where it exists ... and many other things. I'm afraid I must be intolerant myself, there's so much that annoys me.' `Why,' Melanie said slowly, and she actually WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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sounded surprised, 'you're just like Uncle Barak! Exactly the same. I never thought you were till now.' Nicola blushed, unable to say anything. Melanie digressed again. 'Ilse is coining tonight. She's Aunt Ellen's daughter, but her name is Lewis because she's married to Peter. They often come for a weekend, and then I'm allowed to stay up until they arrive on Friday nights. They've got two children, Martin and Erika. Martin is ten and Erika eight, so I'm • the one in the middle. Erika sleeps in my room, and sometimes we stay awake for a very long time, and we make up stories for each other. Do you think you'll like them?' `I can't say, but I think I will,' Nicola said honestly. `Do you like Aunt Ellen?' `Yes, very much.' `And do you like Uncle Traugott?' `Also yes.' `And do you like Uncle Barak?' `I ... yes,' Nicola lied. She didn't like Barak Sorensen. She resented him. Did she even respect him? Admire him? He invoked in her a feeling of nervousness and also, when she recalled some of their exchanges, confusion. What else? Nicola found it hard to decide what she felt about him. `And—' She was distracted from her thoughts by the suddenly and amazingly mischievous tone that Melanie's voice had taken on. `Do you like me, Nicola?' Nicola smiled down at her. 'Yes ... but I don't know you very well, do I? You're not easy to understand.' For the first time she saw a fleeting half-smile, in-
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finitely sweet, cross the child's smooth face, evanescent and wholly bewitching in its very transience. `I think you understand,' Melanie said sedately. 'I'm not really strange as everyone says I am. I just don't like talking unless I have to. Sometimes it can be awkward when I feel I must talk. Like in class at school.' `Don't I know it ! ' Nicola exclaimed with rueful memory. She was now wholly captivated by Melanie, who had partially thawed—enough to reveal that she was a perspicacious young person. She knew how people thought of her; the odd one who didn't talk much. They walked in the shadow of a very high wall which ran vertically up a wide grassy slope, a part of the farm Nicola had not yet seen. `What's on the other side of the wall, Melanie?' Nicola asked. `Nothing much at first, then Uncle Traugott's strawberry patch,' said Melanie. They walked on beside the high wall, Melanie continuing her new game. Did Nicola like Granny Graeme? And Auntie Denise? `Oh !' Nicola interrupted suddenly as the still peacefulness of the wide grassy slope was destroyed by the tan streak hurling itself towards them. 'What's that?' `Nicola! ' Melanie's voice contained horror. 'It's that dog! It's got rabies ! ' Nicola could see that. Her heart seemed to stop and turn over. `We can't run,' Melanie added desperately. 'What can we do?' `Get over the wall,' Nicola commanded, despera-
102 WALK IN THE SHADOWS don sharpening her wits. There was so little time and the sick beast was crossing the slope at an unnaturally rapid pace. `I can't,' Melanie wailed. 'It's too high !' `I'll help you. Quickly, Melanie!' Nicola helped to hoist the child up, straining every muscle to make the required effort. 'Get over and run back to the house.' She shoved at Melanie's rear end and was rewarded by a winding kick in the chest. Her thought processes seemed to speed up in response to the urgency of the situation. Rabies ... did you die if you were bitten? No, you couldn't ... or could you? She had heard of a man who was bitten; he hadn't died, but there had been painful stomach injections ... Or was that bilharzia? No, you got that from the rivers. Rabies was hydrophobia ... surely you didn't die? Nevertheless, Nicola found herself repeating aloud the comforting familiar words of childhood, 'Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death ...' `I'm up !' Melanie shouted as she gained a hold on the top of the wall. 'Come on, quickly, Nicola!' `There isn't time,' Nicola gasped, adding urgently, `go on, Melanie, get back to the house and tell them!' The dog was so near now, she could see its eyes, its tan fur, and the foaming mouth which indicated the madness. `Hail Mary ...' At the last moment she flung herself aside, in a forlorn attempt to escape this horror ... There was a thud, and a sickening crunch as the impetus of the dog,
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 103 unchecked, hurled it against the wall. Disbelieving, Nicola stared down at the unconscious animal. Concussed. She giggled weakly in reaction and closed her eyes. But how long would the senselessness endure? Melanie had gone, long ago. A moment later Nicola's long slim legs were running down the hill. She ran blindly in the direction of the farmhouse, stumbling slightly on unevenness concealed by the grass. She ran, with the terrible fear in her that any moment now the animal would recover and come pelting after her ... down the hill. She gained the kitchen door and paused, breathing hard. There was nothing behind her. There were voices from within, Melanie shouting, and then Traugott and Barak, both carrying rifles, came out, Melanie following, while the maid Sarah attempted to haul her back into the kitchen. `Nicola!' Barak exclaimed as he caught sight of her. `What happened? Where's the dog?' `He knocked himself out, running into the high wall,' Nicola gasped painfully. 'Oh, do something quickly ! He may come round at any minute. I ran all the way.' `Thank you.' He glanced at the maid. 'Sarah—see to them.' Then he and Traugott had gone and Sarah was drawing Nicola into the kitchen and embracing her and insisting on making tea. `You are shocked—Melanie too. You must sit down in the lounge and I will bring you tea.' Melanie, completely shaken out of her habitual calm,
104 WALK IN THE SHADOWS couldn't even stop talking in order to drink the tea when they were settled in the lounge. Ellen was out, so Sarah remained to hover over them both, demanding to be told that they were all right. `I think so,' Nicola said breathlessly, attempting a smile. `But how did it happen, Nicola?' Melanie persisted in asking. `I ... I stepped aside when he hurled himself at me and he hit the wall,' said Nicola, still hardly believing recent events. `Weren't you scared?' `Terrified,' Nicola said drily. `Imagine ! You were so lucky ... Aunt Ellen will say it was providence,' said Melanie, sounding impressed. `It was a miracle,' Nicola said shortly, giving silent thanks for the indeed miraculous fact that she was sitting here in this beautiful room, with her father's view of Knysna on the wall, and drinking tea, untouched by the beast which had hurled itself at her such a short while before. Melanie seemed wholly unshocked by what had happened, although she was visibly impressed by the brief drama and the escape they had both had. However, she admitted, 'I was so frightened, trying to climb over the wall—it's awfully high. If you hadn't pushed so hard I'd never have reached the top. I tore my jeans. I hope Aunt Ellen will buy me some new ones. Blue again, I think.' `I expect she will,' Nicola said absently. There would be no talk of mending the rent—in this household they didn't have to economise, she thought wryly.
105 `I kicked something, going over,' Melanie continued. Was it you?' `It was indeed. Right in the chest,' Nicola said with a weak giggle. Then she grew sombre. 'Don't let's discuss it any more, Melanie.' `That's right,' Sarah said approvingly. 'You talk about something else now.' Melanie's dark grey eyes rested briefly on Nicola. `Does it make you feel horrible to think of it?' she enquired, and Nicola nodded. 'O.K., I won't talk about it again, but can't I just quickly phone two of my friends so that they can hear? And when I tell Martin and Erika tonight, I'll make sure you can't hear. Maybe I'll make it my story for Erika when we go to bed. D'you think she'll believe it?' `You'll probably give her nightmares,' Nicola retorted. Melanie ran out to the hall and presently Nicola could hear her talking away into the telephone. Nicola sat in a deep comfortable chair, but she remained tense, remembering the horror of the moment when the dog had flung itself at her. Then she thought of Barak and Traugott, and her heart stood still for the second time that day. Why hadn't they returned yet? Suppose the dog had regained consciousness? They had rifles with them, but anything might go wrong ... She would have worked herself up into a panic if Barak himself hadn't entered the lounge just then. He was no longer carrying his rifle and he looked grim. `Everything is well,' Sarah assured him, turning to exit the room. `Thank you, Sarah,' he said courteously. 'That WALK IN THE SHADOWS
106 WALK IN THE SHADOWS animal won't worry anyone again. Traugott is fetching a couple of the men.' Sarah nodded and left them. Nicola stood up. `Nicola,' Barak said rather oddly, and she saw that his grey eyes had darkened—yet they remained unreadable. `All right, all right,' she said shakily, but forcing herself to feel resentment because she needed to defend. She always did where he was concerned. 'You don't need to tell me how I endangered your niece's life by allowing her to go so far from the house. I'm just a poor fool in these surroundings, it seems. I can't do anything right,' she concluded bitterly. `Uncle Barak, Nicola was brave,' came Melanie's calm voice as the child returned from the hall. `Thank you, Melanie,' he said tightly, repressively. `She helped me get over the wall,' Melanie continued insistently, 'while all the time that horrible dog was tearing down the slope towards us. Oh, I do hope Donkey never gets rabies !' `That will do, Mel,' Barak said impatiently, noticing that Nicola had grown even paler. He stepped towards her and grasped her bare arms. 'Perhaps you are just a poor fool, Nicola, but—' He shrugged, suddenly thoughtful. Nicola lifted heavy lids from her hazel eyes, still uncertain of his mood. He went on, 'Thank you for what you did, Nicola.' `It ... I wasn't thinking about anything at all when it happened. Oh, it was horrible !' Nicola finished, and burst into tears. `Poor Nicola,' said Melanie in tragic tones.
107 She found herself drawn, just briefly, against a lean hard body by the hands that had gripped her arms, but the contact was impersonal, as was the voice which advised, 'Nicola, stop crying. I really can't stand weeping women, you know. Melanie, I hear Ellen's car. Go and tell her what's happened, and say Nicola needs her.' `All right.' Nicola discovered that her knees were shaking, and it was no longer due to reaction, but the result of Barak's nearness, for although he was no longer touching her, he still stood very close. Knowing herself to be suddenly vulnerable, she moved away from him and, making an effort, stopped crying. `Sorry,' she muttered, embarrassed. `That's all right,' he said drily. 'Incidentally, Melanie appears to be totally unaffected by what happened, unless you count her being more animated than usual. As I said, thank you, Nicola.' For a fleeting moment there was something in the grey eyes that puzzled her. Then it was gone and she was feeling the familiar need to attack in order to conceal the nervousness he somehow instilled. `Oh, you mustn't let gratitude or whatever it is alter your opinion of me,' she lashed out. `And what is my opinion of you?' he enquired quietly, and everything was back to normal. Nicola turned her back on him. 'Unfavourable, to say the least,' she said. `Quite wrong, Nicola,' he replied. 'I don't hold any opinion where you are concerned. Emotionally, at any WALK IN THE SHADOWS
108 WALK IN THE SHADOWS rate, you're just a child and, as such, you hold little interest for me.' Strangely, that hurt more than if he had said he hated her. She faced him again. 'Thank you,' she said with tremulous anger. 'You're very polite, aren't you? However, I'm glad to know I don't interest you in any way. It's very boring when someone you don't like persists in taking an interest.' `I didn't say you don't interest me in any way,' he reproved her. 'I meant that emotionally you don't interest me. Nevertheless, you're a very attractive girl.' His eyes, narrowed, travelled slowly down from her face to her slim waist and hips, and Nicola felt her cheeks grow warm. `I wonder if you know how insulting that is,' she snapped, taking a step backwards. `To dismiss a woman's mind while maintaining an interest in her as a physical entity ... I know it's often true enough, but to actually tell her so is the height of tactlessness. Better to pretend you're indifferent to her in every way.' `So you do have some sort of code which you apply to your relationships? Was Baxter interested in your mind? Did he give a damn about your soul?' `You know nothing about it,' Nicola stated dismissively. `Perhaps not, but I do know that if your affair with him had involved the emotions, you wouldn't speak of it in the manner you have done.' `What has my manner of speaking to do with it? My relationship with Todd was a personal matter, not something to be discussed with all and sundry.' Nicola stopped, realising that, ridiculously, she was arguing
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 109 about nothing, merely for the sake of it. After all, there hadn't even been an affair with Todd, emotional or otherwise. Oh, why did Barak Sorensen always have to make her feel so antagonistic? The episode with the dog entirely forgotten, she found herself wondering what the reaction would be if she suddenly became all sweetness and light in her dealings with him. Her mouth curved at the idea. He might be surprised; he would certainly be suspicious, after the hostility which had so far coloured all their encounters. `What's amusing you?' he asked, appraising her sardonically. `Just my thoughts,' she replied, her hazel eyes limpid. `Obviously.' `Please don't be concerned. My amusement wasn't at your expense,' Nicola assured him gently. His dark face was sphinx-like in its impassivity. 'I'm not concerned.' `I'm so glad,' she said sedately. `Another image, Nicola? Butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, but you could be a witch,' he said softly, and the cold grey eyes were dangerous. `Then you'd better take care, hadn't you? Where can you find a clove of garlic? I might cast a spell on you.' He laughed. 'I'm immune.' Yes, he would be; hardened to any influence other than his own, Nicola thought with a sigh. One experience had embittered him, and now no one could lay emotions on him or touch his soul. He would fashion his own happiness and sorrow, independent of the world.
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Ellen entered then, very concerned about Nicola, who was glad when Barak left the lounge. Melanie, who had come in with her great-aunt, asked gravely, 'Are you feeling better now, Nicola?' `Yes, thank you,' Nicola said, smiling. It was true. The brief parrying with Barak Sorensen had pushed the afternoon's earlier events to the back of her mind, and she was confident that in time they would recede to become only a vague and intermittent remembrance of fear. The Lewis family arrived from Messina after dinner that night. Nicola had intended to slip away, feeling it to be a time for the family only, but when she would have taken herself off to her room, Ellen protested : `Oh, you must stay and meet use and her family, Nicola.' So Nicola remained. She caught Barak's sardonic glance as she sat down again and remembered his saying that it would be easy for her to take advantage of Ellen and Traugott. That had been on her first night here ... Nicola drifted into a dream, recollecting all that had happened in the few days she had been on the farm. There had been so much involving the emotions, and so much anger. She wasn't used to it. Previously her existence had been on a smooth, ordered plain, uncluttered by the confusions she had found here. The deceptions too, which had been forced on her. She must finish Traugott's portrait as soon as possible, in order to escape the choking muddle to which these people had brought her usually clear-cut emotions. She found she liked the Lewis family immediately, and they, in their turn, accepted her presence easily.
111 use Lewis, in her mid-thirties, was very like Ellen, and Peter, a few years older, was a pleasantly quiet man, while their pigeon pair had inherited their mother's fair hair and Peter's brown eyes, and were a lively twosome. Watching them quietly as they all sat together in the lounge, Nicola was struck by the congeniality of the situation. It was so very much a family gathering, with the three children sprawled inelegantly on the couch, and the adults sitting in comfortable chairs, talking with the ease instilled by long familiarity. It was a happy scene really; you couldn't guess that there was a child who had lost her parents tragically, and that the tall man had long ago lost the girl he had loved. This was the first night Barak had stayed in since the evening of her arrival, Nicola realised. They didn't sit long. Peter had undertaken the drive from Messina immediately after finishing work for the week, and freely admitted that bed was the most pleasant thing he could think of just then. In her own rooms Nicola bathed and slipped into the delightfully frivolous short nightie which was a delicate shade of apricot and had been a Christmas present from Alison, her sister-in-law. She got into bed and opened Guy de Maupassant's short stories, but found she wasn't in the mood for reading. She picked up her sketches of Traugott from the exquisitely carved antique night table beside her wide bed, and tried to concentrate on studying them. She was oddly restless tonight and was unable to fathom the reason for it. The afternoon's excitement over the dog couldn't be the cause as she had hardly WALK IN THE SHADOWS
112 WALK IN THE SHADOWS thought about it in the last few hours, but beyond that, she was unable to reason. She listened absently to the murmur of childish Wires coming from Melanie's room at the other end of the veranda, and attempted to analyse whatever it was that nagged at her so persistently. But her introspection brought no answer to the problem. Self-questioning was of little use. There just remained the irritating feeling of emptiness, as if there was something missing from her very spirit—almost as she felt when she viewed the inherent drama of some exciting landscape and knew that to portray it in paints was beyond her meagre talent and any attempt would only result in a flat picture from which the voice was missing. The feeling was almost desolation. `Nicola! ' She cast aside her sketches of Traugott as she heard Melanie's flat voice calling from across the veranda. 'Nicola!' She got out of bed, put on the flimsy short dressinggown which matched the nightie, before going across to the child's room. A bright moon lit the veranda and her figure cast a long shadow on the floor as she walked. Melanie's bedroom door was ajar and Nicola entered the room. The small bedside lamp was still on, and the two girls were in bed, while Martin was curled up in a chair beside the curtained window. `Were you asleep, Nicola?' Melanie enquired. `No; what did you want?' Erika sat up and leaned against her pillows, giggling. `We want you to play Paddy's Black Pig with us.' Martin said hastily, 'We can, you know, Nicola. I don't have to say Miss Prenn, do I? Melanie doesn't.
113 They said we could. We don't have to go to sleep yet, and Ma said I could come here for a while.' `Very well, then,' Nicola said amiably. 'But you'll have to tell me how to play—er—Paddy's Black Pig. I've never heard of it.' She seated herself on the foot of Erika's bed. It was a simple game, requiring nothing more than the ability to keep -a straight face and at which the poker-faced Melanie consequently excelled. It was a ridiculous game, but Nicola enjoyed being with the children, perhaps because she had never had much experience of the very young since she had left school. She now found her three companions to be interesting and distinctly individual people, and she liked listening to their talk when they were diverted from their game. Later, when they had all laughed a great deal and the children were starting to yawn, Nicola suggested that it was time they went to sleep, and they agreed. Martin said goodnight and departed for his room in another part of the house on silent bare feet, while Nicola remained to say goodnight. Erika chuckled drowsily. 'We were tucked in a long time ago, but you'll have to do it for us again, Nicola.' `Yes, just look at the beds,' Melanie agreed. So Nicola tucked them both in, not very expertly because she had never done it for anyone before. She reflected on the ceremony that most children seemed to regard as a necessary part of going to bed. Tucking someone in ... it was funny really. Her grandmother had always done it for her, and Nicola had taken it for granted, but she couldn't remember when she had WALK IN THE SHADOWS
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 114 ceased to require it. She yawned as she finished Melanie's bed. `You're not as good as Uncle Barak and Aunt Ellen at tucking people in,' Melanie commented bluntly. `Or my mother and father,' Erika added drowsily. `I expect I'll learn,' Nicola said lightly. You will, if you have children,' said Melanie. 'How many children are you going to have, Nicola?' `I haven't thought about it. I'll need a husband first,' Nicola said as she prepared to switch off the bedside lamp. `D'you think you'll be married soon?' Melanie continued. 'I think you will. I'm going to have four children, two boys an' two girls.' `Me too,' Erika murmured. Nicola laughed softly. The younger child was almost asleep. 'Four children makes a big family these days,' she said. `Aunt Ellen says it's because of the cost of living,' Melanie explained. 'You have to be rich if you want lots of children. My great-grandpa and Ulrika had ten and they weren't rich at all, but that was ages ago.' `I must go now,' said Nicola. `Nicola?' Melanie tilted her head. `Yes?' `You do like it here, don't you?' `Very much,' Nicola assured her. 'Goodnight now.' `Goodnight,' said Melanie as Nicola switched off the lamp, while Erika merely mumbled something. Nicola went out on to the enclosed veranda. The bright moon, suspended above the gum-tree plantation, still flooded the space between the two bedrooms
115 with its anaemic light, and the whispering trees outside were full of mystery. Orange, the big ginger cat, slipped past her and disappeared through a half-open window, a nocturnal prowler who had business of his own to attend to. The heavy silence lying on the house was almost tangible, and Nicola imagined everyone asleep, so that she was startled when Barak Sorensen suddenly appeared on the veranda. `Oh ! What are you doing in this part of the house so late at night? I thought everyone had gone to bed,' she said, speaking with breathless haste and drawing the ludicrously inadequate dressing-gown closer to her body. `I was reading in the library,' he countered calmly, standing in front of her. 'What are you up to?' `Stealing the -family heirlooms,' Nicola said flippantly, and saw him smile. 'I was with the children. They asked me to play—er—Paddy's Black Pig with them.' `That's all right, then; said Barak. 'Has Martin returned to his room?' Nicola nodded and the moonlight caught the silky swing of her hair which she was wearing loose. 'Just a few minutes ago. Didn't you see him?' `No,' said Barak, continuing to speak very quietly. `And the girls? Are they asleep? I was coming to look in on Melanie.' `Erika was already off, and Melanie about to follow when I left them,' she told him. `Do you always do this?' WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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`Look in on Mel? Most nights. I like to be sure that she's all right.' `Not lying awake or having nightmares?' `Yes. But I don't think I really need worry tonight. She's so much more natural when Martin and Erika are here. I sometimes think it might be better if she went to live with my cousin in Messina. use and Peter would love to have her.' But could Barak Sorensen bear to part with Vanessa's child? Karl's child too, Nicola reminded herself. She stared at him in the moonlight, but could make out no identifiable expression on the strong-featured dark face. Such a hard face. He wasn't someone who would ask for or need sympathy, which was why she refrained from saying what was on her mind : that she had discovered Melanie to be much more the average child than she had first taken her for. The little girl would be naturally poker-faced and solemn in her manner under most circumstances. She was a self-sufficient person, very like her uncle in that respect. Barak commented abruptly, `I think Melanie likes you.' Nicola said sharply, `I suppose that surprises you?' `Fighting again, Nicola?' he suggested coolly. `And attacking, not defending, now. You're continually lashing out. What are you so afraid of, that you have this compulsion always to fight?' `I'm not afraid,' she said in an intense whisper. `You are,' he contradicted her, his eyes never leaving her. `But I wonder if you even know what it is you fear?' `I suppose you think you do,' she said derisively.
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`Involvement?' `What do you mean?' she demanded, discovering that her heart was beating uncomfortably fast. `You and me, Nicola.' They stared at each other in the pale unearthly light provided by the opaque disc which sailed over the gum-tree plantation. Nicola was trembling as she watched Barak warily. His face looked very dark tonight ... satanic. His hands were on her shoulders and she could see that the grey eyes had darkened. Her own were dark hazel pools as they stared up into the harsh face so close to her own. Then her lashes fluttered down to rest in dark half-circles on her cheeks, and her parted lips were raised to meet his. His mouth was warm as it claimed hers and Nicola trembled uncontrollably as she lifted her slim arms to encircle his neck. His fingers, moving restlessly over her back and shoulders, demanded and received a response. Time was displaced and Nicola was conscious only of his mouth and the hard body against which she was lying and the hands that drained all will to resist from her as they urgently massaged her back. Personality was fully sublimated as she responded to his need of her. She ran her fingers through his hair as he kissed her over and over again, and there was nothing gentle in those kisses; only a sort of frenzied desperation. They were both trembling now and she felt his fingers travel round the low neck of her dressing-gown and cup and caress her breasts. Nicola moaned softly against his
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mouth as he kissed her yet again and his caresses ran the full length of her body. Then with a supreme effort she forced her hands to cease in their urgent rhythm of movement against his back, and tore herself away from him. `No,' she protested vehemently. `Nicola,' Barak murmured. 'I need you.' Nicola stared at him with pain in her eyes. 'I'm flattered,' she managed to get out sarcastically. 'Especially as I don't have the smooth face and tawny beauty of the Graemes.' His eyes grew even darker and she knew she had made him very angry. Yet he had himself rigidly in control and his voice froze her as he said, 'Is it for real, Nicola, this immaturity you so frequently display? Or is it just another image, designed to keep people guessing?' Clutching anger to her like - a shield, she exclaimed furiously, 'Once again, I don't understand your meaning. You consistently talk in riddles and I'm tired of it ! ' `Are you? And I'm tired of your juvenile chat—if it's genuine,' Barak added derisively. `Then hadn't we better end this conversation?' she retorted swiftly. `Since it's getting us nowhere fast, yes,' he conceded, and there was a hint of steel in his tone. `Go to bed, Nicola. Goodnight.' Drawing her gown tightly about her slender waist, Nicola obeyed his command, slipping silently past him. She gained the privacy of her room and shut the door. Furious with both Barak and herself, she got into
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bed and leaned back against the pillows, fuming and wondering fretfully how she would face him the following day. She was humiliated by her own reaction to his lovemaking—and astonished. What had happened to her? Nicola spent some time wondering despairingly what it was all about. Complicated human beings had never been part of her life before. Everything had all been so uncomplex : there had been her relatives and friends and painting, and nothing had seemed strange, no one had demanded of her that which she couldn't give, and conversation had held no unspoken thoughts to frighten her ... oh, how could she be expected to understand now? She snatched at her sketch-pad and started to draw, with swift, vicious strokes, seeking to narrow the limits of her world again and withdraw from the dark strangeness she had encountered here, through the familiar act of filling in a space that was blank. But when she examined what she had drawn, she knew that her art was not enough to obliterate what had happened. The brief sketches were all of the same person, drawn from memory, a man with a dark face and light eyes : just a man's head; another full-length one of a man who was powerfully built; a third of a shadowy figure ... as she had just seen him out there on the moonlit veranda. She tossed the pad aside in disgust and switched out her lamp, but she was in a disturbed frame of mind and could not settle. The niggling emptiness she had experienced earlier had returned too, and she cursed Barak Sorensen in particular and the inhabitants of the
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entire Soutpansberg in general. What was the matter with her? Eventually she forced herself to centre her mind on her calm past and all that had been pleasant in her life, but the memory of what had happened kept returning to her. It also succeeded in vanquishing the memory of that afternoon, because when she eventually slept, no dreams of rabid dogs came to her and when she awoke in the morning, she was sure that there had been no dreams of any kind. If there had, she had forgotten them. She was relieved to find that Barak had already gone out when she went in to breakfast. A moment later she was feeling annoyed with herself. What did it matter if he had been here? Surely she had poise enough to face him without becoming flustered, despite what had happened the night before? An irritating part of her mind said no, she hadn't that sort of composure and neither had she the ability to forget quickly what had happened. Traugott's portrait was neglected that morning because his wife had assigned to him some last-minute shopping to be done in Louis Trichardt in preparation for the braaivleis they would have that evening. `There's no hurry, is there, Nicola?' he said when he excused himself after breakfast. 'I must help. The women will be busy here, and Barak is out on the farm, so Peter and I must go into town.' `That's all right,' said Nicola, though inwardly she chafed at the delay. She wanted to finish that portrait and return to the predictable ease of life in Johannes-
121 burg. The longer she remained here, the more she would weaken to the powerful, insidious magnetism of Barak Sorensen, and she was wise enough to know where danger lay. She wanted her own set of rooms in her father's house again, and hot mornings spent in giving herself to the Magaliesberg, lazy afternoons in the swimming-pool, and visits to the galleries ... She wanted all that was familiar and dear to her; her bearded father and their easy-going friends; because she was frightening herself badly with new and strange thoughts and emotions up here among the mountains of the Soutpansberg range. Ideas seized her mind and made her a stranger to herself. `We'll find some work for you to do this morning, Nicola, you can be sure of that,' Ellen was saying. 'And frankly, the longer you take over my husband's portrait, the better we'll both like it. We're so enjoying having you here.' Nicola was touched and she blushed at the compliment. 'What would you like me to do?' she asked when Traugott had left with Peter Lewis. `I know what she can do, Mom! She can keep the kids out of our hair,' Ilse chuckled. She turned to Nicola, her blue eyes sparkling. 'Would you mind? It's the hardest job of all, but you'd probably have more success than anyone here, because you're someone new to them, even Madeline. They haven't even begun to explore your possibilities yet, so they won't get tired of your company. And we'd appreciate your taking them off somewhere away from the house. Children always get under your feet when you're busy, while they're quiet and don't dream of bothering you when you've WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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got all the time in the world for them.' Thus it was that Nicola spent a good part of the day outside with the three children, thankful not to have to meet Barak again just yet. She found she got on surprisingly well with these members of an age-group of which she had previously had little experience. She had always been a little nervous of children; they were such self-possessed people; but the contempt she had subconsciously feared was lacking in these three. They were all different : Martin was the independent, aggressive male, and he enjoyed telling Nicola and the girls things he thought they didn't know; Melanie, still stolidly bland most of the time, treated Nicola with calm acceptance now and Nicola knew that, coming from this child, any freely volunteered conversation was a lot; and Erika, a happy little girl, was always ready to be friendly. She clung to Nicola's hand when they walked up to the boundary of the mass of gum-trees to see if they could spot any buck. 'Won't it be fun, having a braaivleis tonight?' she demanded eagerly. 'One of the boys coming is Melanie's boy-friend.' `No, he's not,' Melanie denied the charge calmly, and dextrously altered the course of the conversation. `Who is your boy-friend, Nicola?' `I haven't one at present,' Nicola replied. 'I only have friends these days.' `But you have had a boy-friend?' `Oh yes.' `And you'll have one again, won't you?' Erika sounded quite anxious. `I expect so,' Nicola said easily, and smiled at Mar-
123 tin's bored expression. It was true that girls took a sophisticated interest in such matters earlier than boys. That evening she spent some time examining the clothes she had brought with her from Johannesburg. She didn't want to appear overdressed for the braaivleis, but ... well, Denise Graeme would be there and she would undoubtedly look wonderful. Long skirts, Ellen had said. Eventually she settled for a slim petrol-blue skirt and a white blouse banded with bright braid which was a favourite of hers because it reminded her of the Rumanian peasant blouse which had featured in some of the works of Matisse. She had found time to wash her hair during the afternoon, so that it was slippery-clean now, and she left it loose, casually waving about her shoulders. Her blouse had a low-cut neckline, so she added a plain gold choker before deciding that there was nothing further to be done to her appearance. She studied her reflection in the mirror while she was applying perfume and brushing her rich auburn hair for the last time before leaving the room. She was at least slim, and a good height, and the little time spent working outside on Traugott's portrait under blue skies and a summer sun had deepened her tan to a glowing golden colour, but ... honestly, her face was too bony, the cheekbones too exaggeratedly high. Oh, this was ridiculous, Nicola thought dismissively as she turned away from the mirror. In twenty-three years, she had failed to worry about her looks, so why start now? She left the room, crossed the veranda and entered WALK IN THE SHADOWS
124 WALK IN THE SHADOWS the lounge, moving with angular grace which gave line to slim, sloping shoulders and firm breasts. It wasn't until she was well into the room that her step faltered, while her heart started an absurdly rapid fluttering, before settling and seeming to sink heavily within her. She hadn't wanted to meet Barak alone, but here he was, apparently waiting for her, because now he stepped forward. Those strange grey eyes raked her appearance, yet gave no indication of whether he approved. Nicola's fingers curled into the palms of her hands as that ridiculous tremulous feeling assaulted her once more, and she was resentfully certain that those penetrating eyes were noticing and registering her reaction, perhaps with amusement, although they still gave nothing away. He said casually, 'You don't appear to have much sense of time. Most of the guests have arrived and everyone is already up at the fires. Or were you trying to gather courage?' `What for?' she demanded, then rushed on in case he answered her. 'You needn't have waited.' `Why not? I am your host,' he reminded her, his glance amused. `You've remembered!' she retorted sarcastically, wondering at the same time why he always made her feel so contrary. 'But I could have gone up on my own.' `It's women like you, Nicola, who discourage men from displays of old-fashioned gallantry,' he told her easily. 'Let's go along to the braaivleis.' In the darkness. outside, Nicola stumbled slightly as
125 her foot encountered an unevenness in the grass, and Barak put out a hand to steady her. The contact had the immediate effect of reminding her of his caresses the night before and, frightened by the sudden weakness that assailed her, she moved quickly away from him, keeping her distance as they walked on. `Independent,' he commented, drawling more than usual. 'Or scared? What are you afraid of, Nicola?' `I'm not,' she protested, wishing her voice wouldn't shake. `I was right, wasn't I?' he went on inexorably, his tone deriding her nervousness. 'It is involvement you fear.' `I don't understand you.' `You don't want involvement on my terms?' `Not on any terms,' Nicola said vehemently. `Why not?' he asked quietly. `Oh, shut up and leave me alone !' she exclaimed rudely, appalled by her inability to handle this conversation. `Calm down and take life less seriously,' he advised her in somewhat chilly tones. 'Or is this all another of those acts at which you excel?' `Why shouldn't it be genuine?' she demanded lightly, fighting to assume some measure of command, both over herself and the conversation. `It could be, I suppose,' he said, pretending to consider the question. 'When were you born? I'll excuse you if it was under Gemini, as, according to Ellen, such subjects are characterised by split personalities ... changeable. Which is reality and which is illusion?' WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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He was making fun of her and Nicola hated him. `I'm not Gemini,' she said stiffly. `I didn't think you were. So it's all deliberate, calculated to confuse?' he queried, and his tone had altered now to contain a threat. 'Because I warn you, Nicola, you won't succeed. I don't take kindly to such feminine games?' She shrugged helplessly. 'Who's playing games?' In silence they proceeded up to the ash trees where everyone else was already gathered. Her mind was a jumble of chaotic thoughts as she walked carefully beside him. Barak ... and last night's unassuaged need. She had felt it in him, he had admitted it to her, and Nicola knew that from now on surrender could never be very far from her. Last night ... the memory wouldn't remove itself from her mind. She had been kissed often, but even when men with whom she had imagined herself in love had kissed her, there had not flared that passion which she had experienced down there on the veranda the previous night, not that flagrant desire which had fired her senses. There were lights in the trees and meat was already being braaied over the fires, while a long trestle table had been set up, bearing drinks and bread and all sorts of spicy condiments, while big pink slices of watermelon were arranged on a huge ashet. As they approached the circle of light and the chatter and laughter of the others reached them, Nicola said tentatively, 'Barak?' She didn't quite know what she intended to say; she just felt that something had to be said.
127 `Forget it, Nicola,' he said coldly, bored now. 'I'll admit I hadn't expected you to be quite so juvenile in your reactions.' She flinched at the frostiness in his voice; it chilled, especially when she compared it with his urgency of last night as she did now. Humiliated, and not truly understanding his words, she forced herself to say flippantly, 'Then you'd better play safe with the eighteen-year-old fresh out of school whom I see coming to meet you. You would probably find greater maturity there.' `I would indeed, if I wanted to,' he said with whiplash humour. 'Denise evidently has more to offer than you.' Todd Baxter had also suggested that Denise Graeme had the greater maturity, Nicola recollected resentfully. `Is what a woman has to offer all that counts?' she demanded angrily, but in a low voice. 'I suppose you don't feel you have to offer anything in return.' Barak turned his dark head and regarded her in the bad light. 'If you're referring to what occurred last night—you wanted me as much as I wanted you, Nicola,' he observed. 'Doesn't that make for equal giving from both parties?' Nicola felt her cheeks grow warm at his frank reference to their shared desire. She had to admit that the passion had come from both sides. Denise approached them, looking as elegant as ever. She had achieved just the right degree of sophistication for such a party in donning a rich crimson blouse and a long cream skirt. Nicola wondered ruefully whether WALK IN THE SHADOWS
128 WALK IN THE SHADOWS Denise had ever made a mistake over her appearance. Had she felt worried about her looks when she had attended her first adult party? That wouldn't have been so very many years ago, Nicola reflected. `Barak!' Denise exclaimed, coming to hang on his arm in a young and beguiling gesture. 'What happened to you? I was getting quite concerned.' `I had something to attend to,' said Barak, smiling at her inscrutably as they entered the circle of light. `Do tell me,' Denise pleaded. 'Oh, hullo, Nicola,' she added as if noticing her for the first time. `Hullo,' Nicola said politely, and : 'Excuse me, please.' She hastened towards a group of people standing around the fires. `There you are, Nicola,' said Traugott, using a longhandled braaiing fork to turn over a sizzling chop. `Come and tell me what you want. Steak, chops, boerewors, or what?' `Oh, boerewors, please,' Nicola replied. `A true South African,' Traugott teased. `I detest it indoors, but cooked over a fire outside, and accompanied by stywe pap, I love it,' she said laughingly. `I'm the same,' said Peter Lewis with a smile, sampling some pineapple and green pepper salad. 'May I braai it for you, Miss Prenn?' `Thank you,' she said. She smiled, watching the men at the fires. They all appeared to conform to type in believing that knowledge about cooking over fires was exclusively a male prerogative. Each believed himself to be the expert :
129 Peter Lewis who insisted that a little South West African beer sprinkled over the meat brought out its flavour, Traugott who braaied the plain way ... Nicola usually loved a braaivleis, that traditionally South African institution, and this one adhered to a high standard. The boerewors was mixed by Ellen herself, rich and highly spiced, needing the blandness of the stywe putu-pap, made from meal, which was the staple diet of some of the country's poorer indigenous inhabitants but, ironically, a party treat for more recent settlers. Mushrooms, wrapped in foil, were placed right among the glowing logs to cook in their own juices, there was plenty of beer, and wine and fruit juice for those who didn't like it. Later there would be pints of strong coffee and they would be able to sit around the fires, dreaming, or listening to man-talk, about planting and picking, market prices and the possibility of droughts or floods. But now was the lively hour of the party. Nicola discovered that although the Sorensens braaied with a certain modern sophistication, they did not despise the old, well-loved traditions attached to this activity. One of their guests, an Afrikaans farmer, had brought his accordion and was providing some rollicking tiekiedraai and volkspele music, interspersed with old favourites like Sark Marais and Die Ou Kraal-liedjie. Someone younger, obviously at peace with the world and enjoying life, started to hum, 'Braaivleis, rugby, sunny skies ...' and Nicola smiled. It was a recent fashion to break into that refrain in praise of South Africa whenever the living was particularly good. It WALK IN THE SHADOWS
130 WALK IN THE SHADOWS over-simplified the matter, of course, since there was more to it than that, and she could do without the rugby, but it did serve as a description of a way of life. Yet somehow Nicola's efforts to enjoy the braaivleis met with little success. She felt tense, and her emotions were uncertain. She kept looking for Barak, who had Denise constantly at his side. She was introduced to Hilary Baxter, who was a plain woman in her late twenties. Nicola noticed with compassion how her eyes followed her profligate husband, who was making himself charming to Peter and Ilse. She also noticed how they softened as they came to rest on the high-spirited little group comprising Melanie, the Lewis children and a couple of other young people. Mrs Baxter wanted children, Nicola realised. Perhaps a child would serve to lessen the unhappiness Todd caused her. But what sort of childhood would it be with a father like Todd? Row much could parenthood change a mad? Nicola was accosted by Todd himself, a little later, as Mr and Mrs Graeme, to whom she had been talking, moved away. `Hullo, Nicola darling,' he greeted her. 'How are you getting on?' `Fine, thank you,' she assured him abruptly. It was no use. He was one of those people whom she would find it impossible to like, no matter how many redeeming virtues she might discover in him. `I wish I could see more of you,' he continued in a low voice. 'How about my taking you out for a drive through the mountains tomorrow? They won't expect you to work on a Sunday, will they?'
131 `I don't know, but I don't want to go out with you, Todd,' Nicola said gravely. `Ah, Nicola, think of the fun we could have together. I'm someone you know from Johannesburg, so you ought to welcome my company,' he said persuasively. `You talk as if we were exiles,' she snapped. `Sometimes I feel like it,' Todd answered, sighing heavily. 'I only have to spend a week up here and I'm longing for the city. I'd like to take you out some time when we're both in Johannesburg; there's much more scope for a good time there.' 'You chose to marry someone who lived here,' Nicola pointed out coldly, noticing that both Barak and Denise were watching them from across the lighted circle. She saw Denise lean towards Barak and say something which made him laugh. She didn't dare look for Hilary to see if she was watching them. `Do let me fetch you tomorrow, Nicola, and show you some of our local beauty-spots. You might see something you'd like to paint.' `It would take years to exhaust the possibilities of just this one farm, so I'm not looking for anything else,' she said. `Come on, Nicola. I've a feeling we could get on very well if we got to know each other better,' Todd argued insistently. 'After all, I'm a friend of your father's.' `I doubt if he regards you in such a light,' she said rudely, adding firmly, 'No, Todd, I don't want to go out anywhere with you. Please accept that.' `Nicola darling—' `Talk about persistence !' Nicola interrupted in a coolly amused voice, abandoning all semblance of WALK IN THE SHADOWS
132 WALK IN THE SHADOWS kindness in favour of cruelty. Her hazel eyes were mocking as they rested on Todd's face. 'Why do you run after girls, Todd? Why don't you leave us alone? It won't do anything to preserve the illusion of youth; you'll still inevitably wake up one morning to find you're an adult, not a boy.' Todd was plainly discomfited. 'I believe I said it before : you've a sharp tongue, Nicola.' `I need it when you're around,' was her dry retort. `It's not very kind to laugh at people,' he argued, rather pathetically. Tut you're funny, Todd,' she said mildly. She gave him a wintry smile. 'As you persist in behaving like a boy just out of school and let loose among the opposite sex for the first time, I suppose I must treat you like one. Run along now, Todd dear. I can't be bothered with you at the moment.' She hastily concealed a giggle as she saw Todd's outraged expression. `You ought to be more careful, Nicola. A cruel humour like yours will lose you all your friends,' he said angrily before stalking away from her. Nicola watched him go. She thought she had been right about his trying to preserve the illusion of youth. He was one of those unfortunate men who were terrified of growing older and couldn't bear to shoulder responsibility. He would probably never have married if it hadn't been for Hilary's money. He would still be a bachelor today, and perhaps happier than he was as a married man. Marriage made him feel old, although he was actually only about thirty. She wondered what would become of him.
133 Unless Hilaty had a child, which just might, at an outside chance, help him to grow up emotionally, he would go on with his present activities for years to come until, one day, the girls he liked so much began to think of him as an old fool, and then ... who knew? It was sad, but Todd's type didn't often settle easily into maturity. She supposed the ageing process was something everyone feared to some extent, but in Todd the fear and consequent resistance were exaggerated. Again she wondered what would become of Todd Baxter. WALK IN THE SHADOWS
CHAPTER FIVE THE following morning, Nicola accompanied Ellen Sorensen and Peter Lewis to the Methodist church in Louis Trichardt. `Those who were born Sorensens have all remained • Lutherans,' Ellen explained. When they returned to the farm, Nicola headed for her bedroom, wondering whether Traugott was expecting work on the portrait to be continued on a Sunday. She entered the lounge and her step faltered, because Barak was sitting at the piano on which the longdead Ulrika had once played. He ran his strong fingers over the keys, producing a discordant jangle, then stood up as she started to cross the room. His dark face
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 134 was grim and she was conscious of a feeling of trepidation. `Well?' he asked, and there was something inexorable in the one word. `Well what?' Nicola retorted, determined not to allow him to see the effect he had on her. `I didn't have a chance to speak to you again last night,' he said expressionlessly. `No, you were fully occupied. with Denise. You don't need to tell me,' Nicola said drily. `At least Denise doesn't feel she has to fight me all the time,' he commented, and there was a flicker of humour in the ice-grey eyes. `Perhaps someone should warn her,' Nicola suggested. `Warn her of what?' he enquired, leaning casually against the piano. Nicola shrugged, exasperated. 'Oh, I don't know,' she said wearily. 'But I shouldn't think anyone would find a relationship with you very rewarding.' `What gives you that impression? Do you know so much about me, Nicola, when you've only been here such a short while?' Her hazel eyes held mingled anger and confusion as she met his glance. `No, but, I have discovered a few things about you.' `Such as?' `Oh, what does it matter?' she said listlessly. `But I'm interested,' he mocked with a half-smile. 'What commodity will Denise find me failing to bring to our relationship?' Nidola's hands smoothed the skirt of her sunshine-
135 yellow dress which revealed the stiff tenseness in every line of her slim body. Wanting to hurt, she taunted, `It's not what you'll fail to bring, Barak, but simply the fact that you've never tried to rid yourself of the past. I feel sorry for that girl—she'll always wonder if you aren't perhaps thinking of her sister. Isn't it because of her resemblance to Vanessa that you're almost engaged to Denise?' She had wanted to hurt him, but she couldn't know if she had succeeded in doing anything more than enrage him, because the uncompromising features merely took on a cold tight mask of anger, and he said, 'Do you always delve into the private lives of your acquaintances?' `You asked me a question,' she reminded him. `Kindly never refer to Vanessa again,' he ordered her in tones that promised to make mincemeat of any argument. 'You never knew her, and what she was to me is no concern of yours. I wanted to talk to you,' he added abruptly. `Is there anything further to be said?' Nicola asked coldly. `Not in the context you're meaning,' he agreed sardonically. 'I have no interest in someone who overreacts on your exaggerated emotional scale. I was going to mention your behaviour with Baxter last night. You were together for quite some time at the braaivleis.' Nicola laughed scornfully. 'My behaviour! Perhaps you're the one who over-reacts, Barak. Todd and I stood talking for a while, and that's all there is to it. Besides, if your affairs are none of my business, as WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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you've just told me ... well, shouldn't you practise what you preach?' `When your affairs are carried on to my own property, I consider them to be my business,' Barak informed her. 'How you behave elsewhere, in your father's house for instance, doesn't concern me, but I won't have your relationship with Baxter flaunted on my property.' `I suppose you're so upright and moral that you can safely afford to condemn me,' Nicola said bitterly. `It isn't a question of morals,' he snapped. 'Had you forgotten that Hilary was present last night? I don't like to see her humiliated—particularly on my farm. She was watching the pair of you last night. What were you doing—continuing the prolonged parting? I believe you told me the affair was over.' `It is,' she said furiously. She had perforce to ac knowledge his kindness in his consideration for Hilary Baxter's feelings, which annoyed her all the more. Why had she ever allowed his belief in her mythical affair with Todd to develop? For his own sake, of course; for the sake of Barak Sorensen and the young girl whom he would probably eventually take for his life-partner and mate. She couldn't go back. He was watching her carefully and she met his cold eyes with defiance in her own. `Have I expressed my wishes clearly?' he said after a pause in which they had engaged in silent battle. Nicola knew who the conqueror was, and her defiance was torn from her, but she still had her pride. `Certainly,' she assured him with dignity. She spun round to leave the room, and her silky hair shifted in a
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 137 liquid movement, swirling about her shoulders. 'I've never disliked anyone as much as I dislike you,' she added. From behind her she heard him say, 'Unfortunately that fails to move me. What did you expect? Woebegone pleas for you to assure me it isn't true?' `Not from the devil incarnate,' Nicola called back over her shoulder, and wondered whether she heard him laugh as she left the room. She felt dispirited and tired most of the day, and even the company of Melanie and the Lewis children couldn't banish the grey thoughts that floated across her mind. Her life had been so uncomplicated up until now, so that the sudden confused questions which hit her now were an assault on her equilibrium. Nicola was completely disorientated by all that had happened : Barak's attitude towards her, the prolonged clash between them, the lies in which she had involved herself for Denise's sake ... She couldn't even begin to untangle the skeins of confusion. She would have retreated in time, given the chance. Not to know any of this, to view things in perspective and bright colours instead of groping in this frightening half-light, with a heavy heart and nerves that were on edge. She had to admit to herself that Barak was partially if not wholly responsible for her state of mind. She was so intensely aware of him and his moods, and the effect he had on her. He was constantly in her thoughts, and she was annoyed to find how much his cold attitude towards her hurt. He addressed her only when it was imperative that he do so, and then with icy indifference which hurt more than if he had employed
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angry antagonism. That at least would have been positive. How she disliked him! Yet his relationship with Vanessa kept returning to her, calling upon her imagination, and she couldn't forget his consideration for Hilary. That afternoon she took her sketch-pad out on to the lawn between the house and the gum-tree plantation, but she couldn't summon up much interest in the surrounding beauty. All she wanted was to finish Traugott's portrait and escape from this place which had brought her to the edge of a darkness she hadn't hitherto known even existed. Presently Ilse and Ellen, the latter carrying a plate of watermelon slices, came across the lawn with Melanie, Martin and Erika in their wake. Ellen said, 'We all felt in need of some refreshment. How about you, Nicola?' Between them they finished up the watermelon and then Nicola allowed the children to persuade her to ake some sketches of them, sketches which Ilse claimed for herself. Later everyone gathered on the driveway to say goodbye to the Lewis family, and little Erika, doing the rounds, gave even Nicola a brief hug before getting into the car. `I'm so glad we know you, Nicola,' she said, and the smiles of her brother and parents said the same thing. As the car moved off down the drive, Nicola heard Barak murmur in cynical amusement, 'You appear to have much the same effect on them as you do on Traugott and Ellen.'
139 Nicola swung round to face him. Nobody else was near them at that moment, so she demanded, 'What do you mean?' He smiled frostily as he looked down into her face. `They're already fond of you.' `As I intend to leave immediately after I've finished Traugott's portrait, which I hope won't take too long, there isn't going to be enough time for anyone to get fond of me,' she pointed out coldly. `Do you really believe it takes time for love to develop?' he asked expressionlessly. `Of course. You have to know someone properly before they can inspire love,' Nicola said with certainty. She thought Barak sighed. 'Either you're a complete child or there's no depth to you whatsoever,' he said resignedly. 'What about love—or hate—at first sight?' `They're not to be trusted.' `How sensible and level-headed of you,' he drawled. `And if the impact of an emotion that hits you on first knowing someone stays with you and is stronger than any that might develop slowly?' `It doesn't happen like that,' said Nicola. `What a fool you are,' he said hurtfully, and the grey eyes were scornful. `Why do you hate me so much?' she asked in a low intense voice as Peter's car disappeared from view. `What have I done? You can't hate me simply because of my ... my past relationship with Todd, just because you think because I had a love affair with him and you disapprove—well, that's no reason.' `There you go, over-reacting again. Must you always make an emotional drama out of everything?' Barak WALK IN THE SHADOWS
140 WALK IN THE SHADOWS said contemptuously. 'I don't hate you, child. I merely dislike your stupidity, your childishness. I suppose you might say that I'm indifferent to you—because of those things.' He turned away from her, leaving Nicola raging inwardly at the power he had to inflict hurt on her through a few scornful words. But why 'should she care? Oh, the sooner she left here, the better, she decided as she returned to the house with Ellen and Traugott walking beside her. Barak went out again immediately after dinner, and Nicola supposed he was going to see Denise. As soon as he had left, she requested permission to use the telephone and put a call through to her father in Johannesburg. She hoped he would be at home and not away on one of his sudden trips. She sorely needed to hear his voice. `Dad! ' she exclaimed in relief when he answered. He was someone blessedly normal in an existence which had been jerked out of its usual rhythmic swing, and she was glad to speak to him. `Nick !' Robert Prenn shouted. He always shouted when using the telephone. 'How are you getting on, girl? How's the portrait?' `Progressing,' Nicola told him. 'When I'm not actually working on it, I find it causes me a lot of doubt, but I know I can't judge it objectively until I've finished it and am no longer bound emotionally to it.' `Good girl,' he said approvingly. 'I'm sure it'll be a success. Is the old gentleman much to look at?' `He's wonderful; that's why I'm not finding him as difficult to paint as I might have done, had he been
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 141 lacking in visible character,' Nicola said warmly. 'What about you, Dad? What have you been doing?' `Oh, I've been out to the Magaliesberg quite a lot since you left,' Robert told her. `And are you all right? Robina has been coming in from Soweto, hasn't she?' `Yes, the house has been kept clean, and I'm not starving, if that's what's worrying you,' her father assured her genially. `It's not,' Nicola laughed. 'You wouldn't allow yourself to starve. I know you and how you like your comfort. But what about Timothy and Dabble?' `Your cats are fine. They've been taking advantage of me because you aren't here to make a fuss of them. Timothy has taken to sleeping on my bed during the day, but I turn him out at night.' `As long as they're being fed,' said Nicola. 'I'm afraid I arrived here with another cat for the Sorensens. They already had three, but I could hardly leave the poor little scrap to starve. She's only eight or nine weeks old.' `That's typical of you, Nick,' her father chuckled. `Never mind about human beings and their comfort, as long as your precious cats are happy ! How did the Sorensens take it?' `I'm not sure,' said Nicola, remembering Barak's reaction. This was his house, after all. 'I assured them I'd take her back home with me when I leave, if they don't want her. But she's settled in very well here. The other cats don't mind her a bit. There's a beautiful lump of affection called Sylvester, a Siamese, as well as a tabby and a ginger'
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 142 `Stop talking about the Sorensen cats and tell me about the Sorensens,' Robert commanded. 'What do you think of Barak, the nephew?' Nicola hesitated. What did she think of Barak? 'I don't like him, and he thinks I'm a fool.' `Because you don't like him?' `Oh no ! He just thinks I'm stupid. He told me so.' `Like that, is it?' Robert chuckled. 'Then you ought to get on very well if you both detest each other.' `So well that we never say anything pleasant to each other,' Nicola said drily. `I liked him when I met him on New Year's Eve, but he did strike me as being a man who would win all arguments, so perhaps you'd better keep out of his way,' Robert suggested, still chuckling. `I intend to,' Nicola assured him. `What was it? Instant antagonism?' `You could put it like that.' She didn't want to tell him that Barak had already received an impression concerning her, before she had even arrived in the Northern Transvaal. `What else can you tell me? Do you like the rest of them?' 'Oh yes; Ellen and Traugott are wonderful people, and I like Melanie too. She's Barak's niece. Melanie and I managed a terrifying escape from a dog with rabies the other day,' Nicola told him. `Nicola! What happened?' Robert sounded horrified. `Oh, he came for us, and I had to push Melanie over a high wall, and then the dog knocked himself out against that same wall,' she explained briefly, making it
143 sound as prosaic as possible. She hadn't intended to upset him. 'I've seen Todd Baxter since I've been up here, Dad. I hadn't known his wife had a farm in this area. She was at the braaivleis the Sorensens had here last night.' `So it's not all painting?' They said goodbye a few minutes later and Nicola stood still in the hall for a while. For once, talking to her father had failed to raise her spirits. She went into the lounge and looked sadly at Ellen and Traugott who had their heads close together over Traugott's chessboard. Their marriage was such a happy one. Time had proved that, for they were still in love now, when their wedding-day was part of a distant and receding past, misty in their minds. Some people were so fortunate, Nicola thought almost enviously. But, why should she be feeling like this? She had so much, herself. The schools re-opened the next day, so Melanie was absent in the mornings during the days that followed, days which passed quickly enough, bringing hours in which Nicola felt almost completely happy again. She found herself deriving pleasure from the farm. She would help in the kitchen while Ellen and Sarah were busy, or she would sit on the veranda with Traugott and listen to his reminiscences about the past. The black kitten, christened Topsy, was growing fat, frequently stealing anything that took its fancy and spending long hours stalking Jody, Ellen's old grey tabby. Nicola learnt to recognise local weather signs; an amber glow in the evenings meant that the morning WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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would find a thick mist curling its fingers about the farmhouse, obscuring the mountains from view. Such days, however, were rare, and mostly the sun shone from an azure sky, burnishing the mountains below. On the few misty days, work on the portrait was delayed, and Nicola took the opportunity to explore the area as well as Louis Trichardt with its old churches, bright gardens and many commemorative plaques and monuments. She always needed her wits about her, driving in the mist, having to look out for turnings and coping with the low visibility, but she usually made good time and spent some enjoyable mornings. Returning to the farm one such morning, she caught sight of a car in her rear-view mirror. It was the stationwagon which Barak used for going about the farm, and he was at the wheel, which probably accounted for the fact that she suddenly found her nerves on edge. Her hands were slipping on the steering-wheel and she crawled at a snail's pace for the remainder of the way, constantly aware of the car travelling behind her. Nicola counted herself fortunate that she only stalled once. Mentally she chalked it up as another mark against the man : her knowledge of his distaste for her was undermining her self-confidence. She ground her gears as she took the last, hill, and when she had parked the car, she found that he was still with her. Barak fell into step beside her as she walked towards the house, and Nicola scowled. • 'You're not a very good driver are you?' he remarked casually. ,
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`We can't all do everything perfectly.' `I've noticed that you're going out quite frequently. Still acting out the lingering death? Where do you meet him?' Barak asked coldly. Nicola stopped and faced him, her hazel eyes dark with anger. 'I am not meeting Todd Baxter, if that's what you're suggesting,' she informed him in a tight voice. 'I haven't seen him since the braaivleis.' `Where do you disappear to, then?' he asked, but he sounded so indifferent, as if he didn't care what the answer was, and Nicola bit her lip. `I've been exploring the district,' she said as tonelessly as she could manage. `Yes?' He looked and sounded sceptical. `Yes !' Nicola reiterated furiously. 'Of course, I don't expect you to believe me, and I don't care if you don't. It's enough for me that Ellen and Traugott accept my word. They have tolerance, which is more than can be said for some people in this vicinity.' `For instance?' he enquired amusedly. `As if you didn't know!' she flashed. `Why are you always so ,aggressive?' Barak asked as they went on towards the house. Nicola sighed 'I don't know,' she said with sudden candour. `I do,' he told her. 'You're going about things the wrong way, Nicola. You can't fight all the time. You'll wear yourself out, turning everything into an emotional issue. You'd make it much easier for yourself if you accepted the inevitable and let it all wash over you. You can't determine the course of your life, so relax and stop fighting.'
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 146 Nicola mounted the stairs to the veranda with him behind her. 'I've no idea what you're talking about, Barak,' she said without looking round. `I think you know perfectly well, but you're trying to swamp the truth by feigning ignorance of it. But ignoring something won't make it go away,' he added as he held open the front door for her. `So what am I supposed to do?' Nicola asked flippantly. `I told you : relax and accept everything,' he said. `I don't even like you,' she told him stiffly as they crossed the hall. `There you go, dramatising again,' Barak jeered. `There you go, sneering again,' Nicola retorted. She laughed suddenly, turning her head to meet his eyes. `Our every conversation provides further proof of our incompatibility. We can never say anything pleasant to each other.' `That's because you're fighting yourself all the time,' he pointed out. `It's you I'm fighting—I have to, because you continually attack me,' she said. They entered the lounge. 'You're a past master at blinding yourself to the facts,' Barak said expressionlessly. `You're mistaken,' Nicola stated coldly. 'I know what you regard as the facts, but my own opinion doesn't coincide, and even if it did, we would still dislike each other.' `You want emotional as well as physical affinity in your relationships, then?' he asked, pausing beside the beautiful piano. There was a glint of humour in his
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grey eyes, and Nicola stared at him, fascinated. Then she 'pulled herself together. 'Certainly Perhaps you wouldn't understand that, being so old. I believe men who reach your age, having remained bachelors, do become cynical and hardened with regard to such matters. Perhaps you've forgotten that young people look for magic in the world. I'm still young enough for that, thank God.' She smiled mockingly. Barak's lip curled. 'Do I seem so old to you?' `Well, aren't you?' she taunted. `I'm thirty-seven,' he said. 'But perhaps it's you who are so very young.' `Meaning that Denise doesn't think of you as old,' Nicola said frigidly. 'I suppose that's another crack at what you once called my childishness. Well, good luck to Denise. Personally, I'd hate to have grown up as quickly as she's had to. But then stepping into a dead woman's shoes must be an ageing process.' Barak's face darkened and she grew apprehensive as she saw the smouldering fires in his eyes. 'I told you never to refer to Vanessa again,' he snapped with taut fury. Nicola retreated. 'Didn't you ask for it?' she retorted sweetly as she backed away from him. `Go away, child,' he instructed her, and his face was still a tight mask of anger. 'I've no objection to fighting, but I can't say I like your methods.' `And I don't like yours,' Nicola replied and, turning from him, she left the room. In her bedroom she sank down into a chair. Every short encounter with Barak left her feeling exhausted, and she wished more than anything in the world that
148 WALK IN THE SHADOWS she could escape from this place where everything seemed to conspire to destroy her nerves and wreak havoc on her emotions. What had become of the calm rhythm which had once been the state of her life? If only she could leave ! But there was still Traugott's portrait to be finished, and it was taking longer than she had anticipated, as the result of a few moistureladen mornings when visibility shrank to a mere metre. Nicola was alone in the lounge the following afternoon when Denise walked in. `Nobody else at home?' the girl asked. She was wearing a turquoise dress which flattered her tawny colouring and the flawless, softly tanned skin. `Nobody but Sarah and me,' Nicola agreed as she put down her book. 'The men are out somewhere, and Ellen has taken Melanie to her music lesson.' `My precious niece is a spoilt little thing,' Denise commented as she sat down gracefully in a low chair. `Piano lessons, ballet lessons, swimming lessons.' `The last are necessary, you must admit,' said Nicola. `Of course,' Denise agreed, lifting a hand to smooth her hair which was looking attractively windswept. `That's why swimming was all I was allowed as a child. I wanted ballet, and private tennis coaching, but swimming was all I got, and that because it was necessary.' `There's no doubt that Melanie is a privileged child,' Nicola commented. `Over-privileged, I sometimes think, but perhaps I subconsciously resent anyone having what I couldn't have,' Denise said with blunt honesty. `A lot of people are like that,' Nicola remarked.
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 149 `Yes,' said Denise absently. She looked at Nicola very directly and said, `Do you know that Barak is interested in you?' Nicola raised her head defensively. 'How do you know that?' `I'm not a fool and I learnt to look after my own interests a long time ago,' Denise said impatiently. 'It's the way he talks about you ... or rather, the way he doesn't talk about you. I sometimes question him about you, but he remains adamant in refusing to discuss you.' She didn't sound as concerned or resentful as the other girl would have expected, so Nicola didn't attempt to deny it. She said, 'It's nothing but physical attraction, and that never endures, so you have no cause to worry. He can't stand me as a person.' `Oh, I wasn't exactly worrying,' Denise said easily. 'I just wondered if you knew, that's all. I don't think Barak will ever go very far from me, whoever might attract him at various intervals. I'm too like Vanessa for him to want to lose me.' Nicola was surprised. 'Don't you mind?' she asked. `Doesn't it make you doubt yourself, knowing that you remind him of your sister?' `Why should it?' Denise enquired with delicately lifted eyebrows. Her breathless voice sounded less childish this afternoon. 'I regard my resemblance to Vanessa as an advantage. It's one way of making sure that I hold Barak. God, I couldn't stand losing him now,' she concluded with sudden intensity. `Do you love him so much?' Nicola asked, and compassion flavoured her words. Denise must love Barak
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terribly if she was prepared to use her resemblance to Vanessa in order to keep him hers. It must cost her a lot in pride, though. `Love him?' Denise echoed with surprising casualness. 'I suppose so. I want to be his wife, anyway.' She stood up and walked like a graceful lioness to the piano. She ran a loving hand over its polished lid, while her tawny eyes swept round the room, over the beautiful old furniture and the wealth of art on the walls. There was a strange light in those eyes; a feverish and hungry greed, almost, Nicola thought. Denise continued, speaking with a fervour that told her listener that here was genuine emotion : 'But it's all this; the farm, the house and all the beautiful things in it that I truly love. That's understandable, isn't it? I mean, I've grown up in a small house, and the furniture was always horrible cheap modern stuff, and the only good painting I ever had was the Robert Prenn Barak gave me for my birthday. I like things to be old —old and beautiful. Can you imagine how I coveted this place? Even when I was tiny I knew I wanted to be a part of it. I was eight when Vanessa and Barak fell in love, and I was thrilled because I thought that if my sister became the mistress of Barak's home, I would have a share in it. I could hardly wait for the time when their affair would culminate in marriage, but in the end she married Barak's younger brother, Karl. Van couldn't face life in the country although, like me, she loved this house. Oh, I think my sister genuinely loved Barak, but it evidently wasn't a deep enough love or she'd have been prepared to live here ... So I've had to wait ten years. After Vanessa married Karl I lived
151 in fear that Barak would marry someone else, because then I had only my resemblance to Van with which to keep him interested. But this last year or two, I've known that my dreams would eventuate in reality. After I left school he started to notice me as a woman, and of course I'm even more like Vanessa now ... I'm at the age she was when they were in love.' Denise sat down again, and as she stopped talking, she looked at Nicola expectantly. `What do you want me to say?' Nicola asked flatly. For some reason it had hurt her to learn that Denise apparently loved Barak's home more than she loved Barak. And this teenager's dreams would come true, because she reminded him of her dead sister, and Barak had loved Vanessa. That Denise should use that old love to gain her ends ... It was cruel, Nicola thought suddenly. At the same time, she could feel pity for the willowy girl sitting opposite her. It must be a terrible form of possession, to be so driven by a desire for something as material as a house and its contents. `I suppose you think I'm grasping and acquisitive?' Denise commented with cool amusement. `I don't know,' Nicola said honestly. 'It hardly seems fair to Barak as a man to use your likeness to your sister in order to become mistress of his house, but on the other hand, I can see how badly you want to be part of this, so why not use any means to achieve it?' `Exactly. All's fair in love ... and I love this house, is that it?' said Denise. `I suppose so,' Nicola said doubtfully. It was ridiculous that she should feel so hurt for Barak's sake, WALK IN THE SHADOWS
152 WALK IN THE SHADOWS offended that anyone should rate his house above the man himself. 'Do you love him at all?' she asked in a small voice. Denise shrugged. 'I suppose I do to some extent. I don't find the idea of being married to him actually distasteful, at any rate. But I will regret the fetters marriage puts on me. What would be ideal would be for me to have this house and remain free. I'd be in my element then. After all, I'm only eighteen and there are so many things I want to experience.' `Why hurry into marriage, then?' Nicola said carefully. 'You seem to be fairly sure of Barak, so wouldn't he wait for you?' `I can wait for marriage—I can't wait any longer for the house,' Denise said fiercely. 'It must be mine, and soon now. I've waited long enough ... most of my life, in fact. I won't do so any longer. That's why I must ask you, Nicola, not to let whatever there is between you and Barak progress. It might delay our marriage. I know you can't help what's happened; Barak is a man, after all.' `There's nothing I like better than a good cliché,' Nicola snapped, suddenly resenting the fact that Barak's interest in her was of a purely physical nature. Denise smiled ruefully at herself. 'It happens to be true.' `I'm not interested in Barak, so you needn't have any fears of my distracting him during the final lap to the altar,' Nicola assured the other girl. `No, but I'll be glad when you've gone,' Denise said frankly. 'I know Barak finds you attractive.' Nicola didn't want to talk about Barak any more.
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 153 Introspection had made her aware of the ambivalence of her feelings towards him, and had taught her that she would need to walk carefully in future while she remained in his home. She said lightly, 'It won't be long now—Traugott's portrait will be completed very soon.' Denise appeared to be satisfied with that, and left shortly afterwards to go and see Barak among the avocado plantations. That evening Nicola studied herself in the mirror when she was preparing for dinner. She was wearing a dress with tiny black flowers all over it, and although it made the colour of her hair look richer than usual and its cut emphasised the slimness of her waist, she wasn't sure if it suited her. Oh well, black fitted her mood, she thought impatiently as she banged down her hairbrush and lifted her head in a sharp angry movement, so that the long auburn hair swirled about her shoulders. She noticed angrily that her face was paler than usual. The hollows at her temples were shadowy, and her high cheekbones were more accentuated than ever. `Bony face,' Nicola mocked her reflection irritably, before going out to the front veranda where the Sorensens were already gathering with their pre-dinner drinks. After dinner was over, Barak joined them in the lounge for coffee. `Aren't you seeing Denise tonight, Barak?' Ellen enquired. `No,' he said shortly, and Ellen looked offended. `Well, she was over here this afternoon, wasn't she?' Traugott said peaceably. 'I saw her come out of the
154 WALK IN THE SHADOWS house and join you on the top plantation while I was up at the windmill.' Barak didn't reply. He remained silent for most of the time they were in the lounge, and as Nicola was in a similar state, most of the conversation came from Ellen and Traugott. Barak was looking strained, Nicola thought, eyeing him covertly. His dark face was shadowy, and harsh lines appeared deeply grooved, bracketing his hard mouth and interwoven about his eyes. He sat in silence, smoking, and seeming to stare through Ellen and Traugott to a place in the distance, and Nicola wished she could see that faraway place too, and share in his looking. Perhaps he was starting to discover that Denise was an unsatisfactory substitute for Vanessa. How could she prove otherwise? If the girl had brought to him a loving instead of merely a desire to live in his house, he might not now be looking as he did, as if he found little pleasure in the world. The spectre of Vanessa must be with him, Nicola thought. Did he find that Denise was not after all so very like her sister? He and Vanessa had loved, but this second time around, with the younger sister, there was only the wish to re-create the past where he was concerned, and a burning ambition to be mistress of his home on Denise's part. Was that what had drawn those lines about his mouth? - The discovery that Denise only looked like the woman he had loved? For every human being was different, in compliance with the miracle of life, Nicola knew, and for Barak, Denise would sooner or later start to appear merely a picture of her sister. Like a
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bad painting, Nicola thought, where a scene is portrayed flatly on the canvas, merely echoing faintly what the artist has seen, and lacking all the inward factors and depths of what had been reality. Barak would find Denise only superficially like Vanessa, and her spirit would look empty to him, because he searched only for Vanessa's spirit, not seeing the girl Denise as an individual young woman. Looking at his face, Nicola thought that the disappointing process of finding Denise unlike Vanessa had already begun. Disillusionment might make him look like that. She found herself wanting to go across the room to him, and touch his face; to draw the tenseness out of him and make him smile with eyes that looked only at her. She wanted to put her arms about those firm shoulders, and touch the dark hair, and feel the warmth of him, and see the ardour in his eyes, and know that for him, all thoughts of two tawny-haired women had melted away, and he was aware of only one, Nicola Prenn, who loved him Nicola's face was a pale, stiff mask as she came to self-knowledge. How had she travelled to reach this bitter loving? She had resented him, yet had felt interest in him; she had desired him, and insisted to herself that she disliked him; and through the tortuous passage of pain she had come to this longing to know that she was loved by him, that she was the only woman for him. How had it grown up? Nicola questioned herself blindly, unable to discover that physical and emotional formula which had brought her to this knowledge of her own heart.
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Presently Melanie entered, clad for bed, to say goodnight and demand that her uncle come and tuck her in. `What's wrong with you, Nicola?' the child asked, coming to stand in front of her and contemplating her gravely. 'You look funny ... as if you had a pain inside you.' I have, Nicola wanted to cry. It was a pain which scorched deep into her, explaining the empty unfulfilled feeling which had nagged continuously at her lately. `Yes, I've noticed you were looking pale, Nicola,' Ellen said, examining her face. 'I think you've also got thinner since you came here. Perhaps our climate disagrees with you.' `Or perhaps it's the company,' Barak said coldly as he stood up. He walked out of the room, leaving Melanie to follow. Ellen sighed. 'Oh dear, Barak is always in such a bad mood these days. I suppose he's still not sure of Denise and it's preying on his nerves.' Nicola didn't answer. She was looking inward, with hazel eyes grown dark; looking at what she had been, what she had become. There had been such freedom once, until she had come here. She had walked in that freedom, all her life, and none could tie her, but now she lay in chains, and there could be no walking out of this bondage because it was love which imprisoned her; a love which had a frightening power because, reciprocated, it could have lifted her up to touch the heavens of a searing
157 joy, but unrequited, it dragged her down into black misery and despair. And her despair was all the more painful for Nicola because a new wisdom told her that there could be no going back along the road which had led her to this. You couldn't retreat from love. WALK IN THE SHADOWS
CHAPTER SIX NICOLA worked energetically on Traugott's portrait for the next few mornings, and they were both tired by the time they went in to lunch each day, but within a few days Nicola was satisfied that one more morning's work would see the picture completed. After that she would leave, she decided thankfully. Both Ellen and Traugott had suggested that she stay on for a while after her task was completed, and if it hadn't been for Barak, Nicola might have accepted their invitation. There was so much here that she would enjoy painting; she had come to believe that the Soutpansberg was the most beautiful region in South Africa. But Barak was here ... so she couldn't possibly stay on. She would do herself no good by remaining here, constantly upset by his presence, disturbed by him She would only wear herself out, loving him and knowing that his heart had gone to the grave with the dead girl who had been his brother's wife. That afternoon Nicola and Melanie walked to the copse from which Melanie had come running on the day of Nicola's arrival. Nicola had started painting the
158 WALK IN THE SHADOWS woody scene because Melanie had expressed a wish to own a picture of 'my trees'. The work was a secret between them, one in which Melanie took solemn enjoyment, and Nicola aimed to finish it that day. When they reached the spot, Nicola set up her easel in an open space on the side of the track opposite to the trees, and Melanie, who was not interested in watching her at work, went running off, a small figure in blue jeans who was soon lost to sight among the trees. Nicola smiled to herself as she set to work. She wondered what imaginative games Melanie enacted on her own in the coolness among the trees. It was a very special place for the little girl, and certainly not somewhere for adults. Nicola had learnt that even Martin and Erika Lewis were only rarely invited to bring their solid persons to join the shadowy figures who peopled Melanie's games. Nicola had not been painting long when she glanced up and sighed impatiently. Todd Baxter was coming up the lane on foot, and he was one of the last people she wanted to see. She didn't even smile in his direction. He was still a fair way off, so Nicola continued painting for a while. Then she stepped back and examined the canvas. It was a small one and had needed even less work than she had anticipated, and any further additions would spoil it. She disliked painting on so small a scale as it made her feel confined and inhibited, but Melanie had wanted something which would look well in her own bedroom. No, there was nothing to be added, she decided, and started to tidy up her paints.
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`Nicola darling!' Todd exclaimed warmly as he reached her. `Oh, hullo, Todd,' Nicola greeted him indifferently. `What are you doing here?' He came forward and caught her hands in his. `What do you think? A girl like you ought to be confident that every visitor has 'come exclusively to see her.' `A girl like me doesn't fall for flattery,' Nicola retorted. She released her hands from his grasp. Todd pushed at a stray lock of his floppy brown hair and eyed her with a smile. 'One could hardly call this a warm welcome ! I'm disappointed—I expected better of you, Nicola. Aren't you at all glad to see me?' `No, not if you're going to continue in this vein,' she said bluntly. `But haven't you missed me?' Todd persisted. `I hadn't noticed your absence,' she said drily. `Heartless woman ! I've been in Johannesburg again,' he told her, and paused expectantly. `Oh yes?' said Nicola, examining her painting again. `Oh yes, indeed,' Todd retorted. 'I saw your father while I was there.' `Oh!' Nicola said, with genuine interest this time. `How was he, Todd?' `As well as ever,' he said. `Still painting?' she asked. `With the greatest enthusiasm,' Todd assured her. He took her hands again, but Nicola hardly noticed, so intent was she on yet another reappraisal of the painting. He peered at her more closely now and said, 'But as
160 WALK IN THE SHADOWS for you, now I come to think of it, you're not looking too bright, darling. What's up with you? Could it be that I'm finally beginning to wear you down at last?' `Nobody can say you aren't persistent,' Nicola said sardonically. `Then you'll come out with me tonight, won't you?' he said persuasively. `No, I won't,' Nicola said, abandoning interest in the painting. She pulled her hands away from Todd. `What an obstinate creature you are,' he said resentfully. 'What's wrong with you, that you're not prepared to enter into a little fun? We could get on very well together.' `Why can't you take no for an answer?' Nicola demanded impatiently. 'I've told you I don't want to go out with you, Todd. It's not what's wrong with me but what's wrong with you that could be my reason for that. Do you imagine any girl with sense is going to see a married man as a good bet for some of that fun you're always going on about?' she taunted. 'I prefer my men friends to be single—and young,' she added mockingly, remembering what she had once said about his fear of age. Todd looked angry. 'I can see you've been influenced by those Sorensens,' he said viciously. 'And I suppose they've had a hand in setting you against me. Why don't you judge me for yourself, instead of heeding their opinions? As I've said, we ought to be very compatible.' `I doubt it,' Nicola said shortly, tired of Todd and the whole conversation.
161 `I don't. Let me prove it to you,' he said, attempting to draw her into his arms. `Todd! Stop playing the fool,' she said sharply as he bent his head. `Who said I was playing?' he muttered. Nicola turned her head sharply so that his kiss landed on her cheek, instead of her mouth as he had obviously intended. `Here comes Melanie,' she said coldly, but with a sense of relief. 'Kindly let go of me immediately— unless you want a nine-year-old child to see you making an utter fool of yourself.' Todd obeyed and turned to regard the approaching Melanie with angry brown eyes. `What does that damned kid want?' he said venomously. `Hullo.' Melanie stopped and stared at him unblinkingly. 'What do you want here, Mr Baxter?' she asked politely. `Mr Baxter is just about to leave,' said Nicola. She heard Todd mutter a curse. `Oh,' said Melanie, still staring at him. 'Goodbye then, Mr Baxter.' `She's certainly seeing you off with a vengeance,' Nicola murmured to Todd. 'You'd better go.' `Very well, then,' he said sulkily. 'I'll be seeing you some time soon, Nicola.' Nicola hoped not. She watched him turn away and start walking down the lane once more. Melanie looked at her blandly. 'That's got rid of him. You don't like Mr Baxter, do you, Nicola?' `Not much,' Nicola agreed. WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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thought not, and that's why I can't understand why he was kissing you.' `I couldn't very well stop him just then,' Nicola said shortly. She paused, looking at Melanie speculatively. `I know what you're thinking about,' Melanie announced surprisingly. 'You're wondering if I'll keep it a secret again, just like the other time when he held your hands. You can trust me, Nicola.' Nicola flushed. 'Thank you, but please remember, Melanie, that ... there oughtn't to be such secrets,' she concluded helplessly, looking at the child with distressed eyes. It wasn't right that Melanie should be learning the passive deceit embodied in saying nothing. `No, but I can always tell what people want, and you want me to keep quiet,' Melanie said. 'Not that I think it'll be much use, Nicola—I caught a glimpse of Uncle Barak up at the top plantation and he could easily have seen from there.' Of course. That would be just her luck, Nicola thought bitterly. She was fated to be seen by Barak when Todd was with her, as on that occasion outside Hilary's farm. `Oh, Nicola, thank you! You've finished my picture,' Melanie's voice interrupted her muddled train of thought. They returned to the farmhouse and Melanie shut herself into the library in order to do her homework, while Nicola, too overcome by sudden ennui to do anything, sat on the front veranda and watched the distant blue mountains which were still and majestic in the late afternoon sunlight, while Donkey, the black lab-
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163 rador, lolled drowsily at her feet, twitching occasionally in response to his dreams. When she heard a step beside her on the veranda, she didn't need to turn her head in order to ascertain who it was. Barak had been sure to come. Perhaps that was why she had come to sit out here; to gather strength for the storm she had subconsciously been expecting. Her hazel eyes were frightened as she assimilated his grim expression, but she forced herself to remain seated, because to stand up would give away the nervous need to attempt to match his overawing height. `Where's Melanie?' Barak enquired coldly. `In the library,' Nicola replied hastily. 'Barak ...' she began apprehensively, stretching out a hand. see you know what to expect,' he said drily. 'How did you know I'd seen you?' Nicola's hand dropped into her lap. 'Melanie told me you'd been up at the top plantation.' `Yes—Melanie,' Barak said thoughtfully, looking down at her from his imposing height. Nicola longed to stand up, but even then she would not be on a level with him, although she was not a small girl. `What about Melanie?' she asked stupidly. Barak's control shifted and he said in low but furious tones, 'Haven't I already pointed out how children of that age can talk out of turn?' `Not Melanie; she knows how to hold her peace, and when to do it,' Nicola said flippantly, but sharply aware that she was courting danger by this attitude. Such talk would only serve to aggravate Barak's wrath, WALK IN THE SHADOWS
164 WALK IN THE SHADOWS but she was afraid of breaking down completely if she addressed him in any other way. `I suppose she's become well versed in the art of keeping a secret since you've been here,' Barak taunted with contemptuous anger. `It's an art she's always possessed,' Nicola contradicted him `And you've reinforced it,' he snapped. 'I won't have my niece learning deception from you, Nicola, and I believe I told you before that I didn't want your affair with Baxter carried out on my property. If you must meet him, do it elsewhere. God knows, I've no right to point out what a fool you're making of yourself over him; you're an adult and you can choose your own lovers but I can insist that your cruelty to Hilary Baxter is not enacted here on this farm. If you and Baxter meet here, I'm in a way responsible, and I refuse to be a party to it.' Nicola was too weary to argue. 'It won't happen again,' she promised him listlessly, turning her eyes once more to the faraway blue mountains which were now creased with darker purple shadows. 'Anyway, I'll be leaving soon, so you won't have to worry any further.' He was silent for a moment. 'The portrait is finished, then?' `It will be by midday tomorrow,' Nicola told him briefly. Barak's eyes were chilling. 'You'll be able to see Baxter in Johannesburg without a small girl constantly present. I imagine you'll find it a relief.' `I won't be seeing Todd again,' Nicola said stonily.
165 `No?' He sounded cynical. 'Since you've been here, you've repeatedly assured me that your affair with Baxter is over, yet you've continued to see him, and what I saw this afternoon . .' He paused, and his eyes went to the mountains. 'I don't think you've been wholly truthful.' Nicola's eyes sparkled with a rage which was deliberately induced. She needed anger as a defence against his power, and if she stopped being angry, she might start weeping. She said, 'That's the worst of being away from your own home—you have no privacy. Anyone can overlook you at any time. I object to being spied on. As for your opinion that I'm untruthful—I don't care a damn what you think of me, Barak ! Your opinion counts for nothing where I'm concerned, however much the entire Soutpansberg may heed it. Why should I care?' Barak's expression grew colder still. 'There you go again, dragging matters up to an emotional level.' `It's better to be over-emotional than to be cold— cold as ice, which you are, because you left all your emotion behind in the past,' Nicola snapped. 'You're not prepared to even appraise new emotions because you're always so busy trying to capture those you had in the past.' `You do delight in referring to that past, don't you?' `I feel sorry for Denise, that's all,' Nicola assured him untruthfully. 'Why can't you look at her as someone of today, an entity divided from any other belonging to yesterday? You rob yourself of so much,' she concluded with a constricted feeling in her throat. Barak looked bored. 'I'm no more interested in your WALK IN THE SHADOWS
166 WALK IN THE SHADOWS opinions than you are in mine, Nicola.' 'Then there's nothing more to be said, is there?' she said bleakly, wounded by his indifferent tone. `Not a lot,' he concurred. 'However, I hope you've understood my wishes in this matter, although I don't suppose it matters as you'll be leaving so soon. But don't let me find out that you've been meeting Baxter on this farm—you can do that elsewhere.' `I've told you—I won't be meeting him again,' Nicola flared. `Am I expected to believe that after what I witnessed this afternoon?' Barak said scornfully. 'You may actually believe your protests that your affair is over, but you seem to have some difficulty in delivering the death-blow. How much more time do you and Baxter need to finalise the end of a casual affair? It's a long, long goodbye the pair of you have been exchanging since you came up here. I think you lack the strength of mind to bring it to its conclusion ... You mentioned a painful lingering death to me once, but this is ridiculous. Parting should be a swift severance—it's less painful that way.' `Thank you for the advice,' Nicola said with sarcasm. `This mortal is honoured that the god should utter for her benefit.' `It wasn't intended to be advice. But—God, Nicola!' he said with a sudden renewal of anger. 'You're constantly taking it upon yourself to tell me that I'm a fool who can't let go of the past. What about you? You seem to have more difficulty than most women in bringing an affair to an end—or don't you want it to end? You're hanging on to what's over and done with,
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trying to stir life into the dead ashes.' `You know so much about it, don't you?' Barak said, 'I know enough. But the point I'm trying to make is this; you cling to what's over instead of going forward, and at the same time have the temerity to accuse and condemn me of the same thing.' `Well, it's true, isn't it?' Nicola hit back. 'At least where Todd is concerned, there might be some life left to be squeezed out of what remains.' His face tightened, but he only said, 'Quite a lot of life, I should say, judging by the hand-holding and fond embrace this afternoon. But not on my property again, or in Melanie's presence, please, Nicola. Remember that.' He turned abruptly and strode into the house, leaving Nicola to stare at a horizon made wondrous by the setting sun, but it failed to move her; in fact, she hardly saw it, because her eyes were dim with pain. It probably wouldn't have improved matters between them, but she wished fervently that it had never been necessary for Barak to believe there existed or had existed an affair between her and Todd Baxter. Of course it wouldn't help, she thought impatiently, but she wanted him to see her as someone unattached, free ... only she wasn't free, was she? Because she already belonged, utterly, to Barak Sorensen, and there would never be any freedom again. She shrank from the agonising greyness of the future as she now beheld it. What joy was left for her now? If only Barak had been closer to them this afternoon, he might have realised that she had found Todd's attentions unwelcome. But from the top plantation,
168 WALK IN THE SHADOWS he would only have been able to discern the figures and their movements, while guessing at facial expressions. The following morning Nicola finished the portrait without requiring Traugott for any posing, so he was down in the house with his wife when she brought the large canvas in and propped it up in the lounge. `Well, Traugott,' she said softly as she stepped back from it, 'I've given you my best—and before I left Johannesburg, my father said that would be my triumph.' `I like it, Nicola. I think it's wonderful,' Ellen said decisively. Traugott was more cautious. He scrutinised the painting from several different angles, and Nicola watched him anxiously. la!' he breathed at last, still looking at it. Then he turned to Nicola and a broad smile split his tanned face. 'Will you think me vain, Nicola, if I say it is a very handsome portrait?' Nicola laughed and her eyes shone with relief. 'If that's so, then the credit is yours.' `You have your triumph,' Traugott added. `Thank you.' Nicola inclined her head. She had a humility where her art featured, but now that she was no longer involved with the work, she allowed herself to judge the portrait, and she concluded that she had progressed another step in her education as an artist. Traugott lived and breathed on the canvas, with sunlit farmland in the background, and he would not be disgraced by the portraits of his nine brothers. `Maybe you should specialise in portraits,' Ellen suggested as they continued to examine Nicola's work.
169 `No, thank you,' said Nicola. Tut having done this, I won't feel inadequate again if I see someone worth painting. I've proved to myself that I can paint people in addition to the earth and sky and veld, but those last will continue to attract me.' `Melanie has shown us the painting you finished for her yesterday,' Traugott commented. 'Ellen and I were both impressed.' `I enjoyed doing it—as I enjoyed painting you,' Nicola said, a little shyly. She knew she would miss these two when she left, for she had become fond of them, and they were always kind to her. `What sort of frame do you suggest for this?' Ellen asked. Nicola's brow creased. Then she darted into the dining-room and looked up at Traugott's nine older brothers who overlooked the round table from two walls. Returning to the lounge, she said emphatically, 'A plain frame, very plain.' Traugott nodded appreciatively. 'I've never liked those fancy ones, curls and whirls and gilt all over the place.' `That's because you're such a simple, direct person, yourself, I think,' Nicola stated gravely. 'Sometimes ornate frames can look wonderful. A lot depends on the room and its decor, of course.' `Are you still bent on leaving tomorrow?' Ellen said wistfully. `I think so,' Nicola replied steadily. 'I must go. You've been so kind, and this is a wonderful part of WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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the Transvaal, so I'll be sad to leave ... but I'd like to get back to my father.' It was as good an excuse as any, and true as well. Earlier, the elderly couple had been very insistent that she remain for a while, and she didn't want to offend them. She knew it was more than mere courtesy which had prompted their invitation :the affection she felt for them was returned with a genuine warmth. `Then of course you must hasten back,' Traugott agreed sympathetically. He patted her hand approvingly. 'I am glad to know you are a dutiful daughter.' Ellen caught Nicola's eye and they exchanged a smile. Ellen had told Nicola that filial respect was something Traugott, with his strong belief in family unity, approved of. Nicola said, 'I'd like to go for a last drive through the Soutpansberg this afternoon, if you have no objection.' `That's all right,' said Ellen. `Traugott, do see if you can find Barak and tell him he simply must come and see the portrait at once. I can't wait for people to come and admire my husband ! ' Not wanting to expose herself to the weakening effect Barak had on her senses, Nicola escaped from Ellen almost immediately Traugott had left the room. She set off on her drive immediately after lunch and, as always, the dreaming surroundings calmed her, allowing a measure of peace to seep into her soul, in spite of the pain which was constantly with her now. It was the pain of emptiness, because yearning for Barak had made her that way, achingly unfulfilled, longing for her love to be returned.
171 Nicola heaved a small sigh as she returned the wave of a now familiar old Venda. There might come a mild serenity, instilled by this land, but it failed to completely dim the fiery pain, and she thought she might find greater solace in the bustling city which had been her home very early in life and then again when she had left Natal to attend art school. Perhaps she might find a modicum of comfort in all that was so dearly familiar there; the ugly modern skyscrapers, the tapered Brixton Tower, Northcliff mountain There would be some comfort, but would it be enough to ease the aching? Was she destined to walk for ever in the shadows to which the man Barak had brought her? For how long? As long as Barak had, in loving Vanessa? She knew it was ten years since he had loved Vanessa and lost her to Karl; four years since their tragic death which had left Melanie an orphan. Nicola rebelled at the idea of her own suffering continuing for so long. Her life had been so pleasant once, and she resented the new darkness which had wrapped itself about her. At dinner that night, Nicola glanced at the space the completed portrait would occupy and the part of her which was artist, taking pride in work completed, enabled her to smile. `What are you smiling at?' Melanie asked from beside her, startling her out of her reverie. `I expect she's glad to be going home,' Barak said urbanely, and Nicola perceived that he was pronouncing himself to also be glad of the same thing. 'I congratulate you on the portrait, Nicola.' WALK IN THE SHADOWS
172 WALK IN THE SHADOWS `Thank you,' she said, and resumed eating. She thought wearily that she had never been so miserable in her life. Melanie also ate in silence for a while. Then she looked up. `Well!' she announced, giving the impression of having come to a profound conclusion. 'I think it's rotten of you to be glad you're leaving, Nicola.' `Her father needs her, dear,' Ellen said gently. Not really, but let them believe it, Nicola thought. `But none of us wants her to go away,' Melanie persisted. `True enough,' Traugott rumbled. Barak's soft laugh was full of irony, and Nicola flushed. Yes, they would like her to stay; all of them except Barak. If he had wanted her to remain ... Nicola's heart contracted painfully. Would anything ever assuage this sense of desolation? Later that night she finished packing her belongings, her dull spirit resting heavily on her, weighing her down with despair. The telephone in the hall was ringing as she left her bedroom to return a book to the library, and she heard Barak answer it. She was still in the library when he came to her, his face a tight mask of anger. Nicola looked at him apprehensively. What now? She couldn't think of any reason for him to have sought her out in this mood of controlled anger. `Come with me,' he said abruptly, his grey eyes very dark. 'We're going out.' `What? But Barak, where?' she demanded, frightened by his expression.
173 `Never mind that. It's just a short drive. I want to show you something.' `You must be crazy,' she told him. 'Why should I leap to do your bidding when you won't even give me a reason?' He stared at her with narrowed eyes and she grew conscious of her appearance. She was wearing the cream panelled skirt and jade blouse with the matching necklace that she had worn on the first night she had been on the farm, but this time her hair was drawn back into a sleek knot at the back of her neck. He said, 'I told you; I have something to show you, Nicola.' `I don't understand you,' Nicola did not know why she was protesting. 'It's late and I was about to go to bed after I'd returned this book. I want to make a fairly early start tomorrow.' Barak sounded suddenly tired. 'Please come.' `All right.' It would be self-inflicted torture, but she knew she wanted to give way. `Come on,' he said impatiently, gripping her arm. He steered her into the lounge where he addressed Ellen and Traugott : 'I know it's late, but I'm taking Nicola up to Angel's Throne. Don't feel you have to wait up for us. You'll be able to say goodbye in the morning.' `What a good idea, Barak,' said Ellen, looking pleased. 'I had thought that if Nicola stayed on we could have taken her up to see it. Of course, it really ought to be visited by day for the view, but this is better than nothing.' `Enjoy yourselves,' Traugott adjured them as Barak, still holding Nicola's arm in a vice-like grip, guided WALK IN THE SHADOWS
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her out of the lounge and into the hall. `What's Angel's Throne?' Nicola demanded when they were outside. `It's a hotel at the top of one of the neighbouring mountains and commands rather a special view,' Barak said shortly. Instead of going to the station-wagon he used for travelling about the farm and surrounding countryside, he opened the door of the blue Lancia Stratos which he rarely used. `And were you telling them the truth when you said we were going there?' Nicola asked when they were on their way. She was very conscious of his nearness. `Yes, I told them the truth—without giving them the reason.' `And what is the reason?' she enquired frigidly. `I had a phone call from Mr Graeme. Denise has done one of her disappearing acts again. Of course, she made sure her parents knew where she was going first.' As at New Year, Nicola thought bleakly. She saw Barak's grim profile in the darkness. Was Denise with Todd Baxter again? If so, there would be no Nicola Prenn this time to help her out of an awkward situation when Barak arrived. `As you've consistently assured me that your private life is none of my business, I find it strange that I'm now being dragged along to help round up your stray ... girl-friend. What does it mean?' she said. 'You'll soon find out.' His tone was clipped. `As Denise isn't formally engaged to you yet, do you have any right to interfere in her activities?' she demanded. 'Her life ought to be her own—it's a trans-
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gression of her freedom for her parents to have told you what she was up to and sent you chasing after her. Oh, I know twenty-one is still officially the majority age in this country, but most allow their children to lead their own lives after they leave school. Denise is an adult.' `She is,' Barak concurred quietly. 'But Denise's parents worry over her behaviour. I have no right to interfere in her activities, but I can assist her parents who are my friends.' `Why is it necessary for me to come with you?' Despite herself, she could not keep out a slight tremor from her voice. He did not reply. Nicola found it uncomfortable. He would always go after Denise, she thought dejectedly, but it wouldn't be because he loved her but because she was his substitute for Vanessa. They travelled up a steep, winding mountain road, and Nicola knew that they must be fairly high up already. Angel's Throne was right at the top of this mountain, a big building with several cars parked outside. `We won't be staying long,' Barak said abruptly as he manoeuvred the car into a parking space. `Barak, for the last time, why have you brought me?' Nicola questioned him desperately. `You'll soon see.' He came round the car and opened her door for her, but Nicola didn't move. `I don't know ...' her voice trailed off. `If you're worried about not being suitably dressed, you can relax,' he assured her impatiently. She got out of the car slowly and he slammed the
176 WALK IN THE SHADOWS door. 'We'll just have coffee or something, have a word with Denise, and then we'll go straight home,' he said as he guided her through the car park. They entered a big long room and a courteous Venda waiter, who evidently knew Barak, escorted them to a small table away from the open floor where dancing was going on to the music of a band. Nicola looked about her as Barak was ordering coffee. Huge windows ran all the way down both sides of the room and she realised that from such a height the view would be magnificent in daylight. There were people at most of the other tables, some lingering over a late dinner, but most were merely sitting over cups or glasses; probably taking time off from the dance floor, she thought. `Over there is what we're looking for.' Barak directed her gaze to the dancers. Nicola looked and grew disconcerted. 'Oh ! ' she exclaimed, a hand going to her mouth, although it was what she had half expected to see. Denise Graeme and Todd Baxter were in each other's arms, dancing to the slow rhythm produced by the band. Denise had her head on Todd's shoulder and she looked young and healthy and beautiful in a bleached shantung dress which was wholly plain, its simple lines showing off her slim figure to perfection, while her tawny hair gleamed under the soft lights. `Do you see what they both are?' Barak said as their coffee arrived. Nicola poured out for both of them, with some difficulty because her hands were trembling. She glanced surreptitiously at him. His face looked darker than
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ever and there were lines of tension about his mouth as he watched the dancing couple. She saw that every muscle in his face was taut, and his hands were clenched. She said, 'Perhaps Denise is just looking for a little gaiety. She's too young to want to be tied down now, but given time ...' Her voice trailed off. She knew she was saying what was untrue for the sake of driving that hard cynical look away from his face. Barak glanced at her briefly and he was inscrutable again, although his eyes remained dark. 'Whatever makes you think Denise cares about me, Nicola?' Nicola gulped and looked away from him. His voice had been totally expressionless. Then he said with faint humour, 'You're present at an historic occasion. This is the last time I shall fetch Denise from the places she ends up in when the mood takes her to bolt.' In silence he drained his coffee. 'You're shocked. We'll leave as soon as we've had a word with Denise and Baxter. They're going outside now. We'll follow.' Nicola nodded silently. She left the coffee unfinished and when Barak had paid they went out after Todd and Denise. The hotel garden was criss-crossed by narrow stone paths, concealed by shrubbery and hanging creepers, and it was along one of these that Barak and Nicola followed the other couple, guided by the sound of Denise's inimitable breathless young laughter. Then there was silence and, rounding a curve, they
178 WALK IN THE SHADOWS came upon them, looked in each other's arms, their mouths joined. Nicola drew a sharp, shocked breath, causing Denise and Todd to separate hastily. She shouldn't have accompanied Barak, she thought, feeling his hand on her arm. She glanced anxiously at him but, in the light from the lanterns hanging in the trees, she could detect no trace of distress in the dark face. `Barak?' Denise was the first to find her voice and she used it in entreaty, putting out an appealing hand and moving away from Todd. `Yes, Denise?' Barak's tone was cold. `You must understand ...' the girl began falteringly, yet there was something in her tawny eyes that hinted at satisfaction. `I understand only too well,' he told her coolly, now releasing Nicola's arm. Even without the physical contact, however, she could still sense the anger that he was containing. 'This is the last time, Denise. It hasn't worked, you know, it's not working, it never will work.' A light seemed to die in the girl's eyes. 'You mean ...?' `I mean that I know what it's all about, what's been motivating your recent behaviour,' Barak continued quietly, but there was something nevertheless hard in his voice. 'I just thought I'd let you know before you make even more of a fool of yourself—and before you really get into trouble,' he added, his freezing glance flicking over Todd. Todd's face was flushed and his manner was truculent as he said, 'Here, you can't talk like that, Sorensen. I don't like your tone at all.'
179 WALK IN THE SHADOWS Barak's smile was sardonic. 'You'll like it even less if you don't leave Denise—and Nicola—alone in future.' `I won't take that from you!' Todd exclaimed belligerently, taking a step forward and then hesitating, perhaps realising the power that was leashed in Barak's lithe physique. He glanced at Nicola with a weak smile. `Are you going to stand for it, Nicola darling? Let him dictate on your affairs as well as Denise's?' Nicola moved instinctively closer to Barak, and Denise watched her with hard narrowed eyes. `We've heard enough, Baxter,' Barak said quietly, still exercising that iron control. 'God knows, you're entitled to live your life as you please, but even Hilary's patience is wearing a bit thin. That's just a warning.' He had turned away, but Todd's voice arrested him. `I haven't finished yet, Sorensen.' `But I have,' Barak told him. 'When you start acting your age, perhaps you'll find people prepared to give you a hearing. Until then, however ... I'm taking Denise home, so you might as well get going.' Nicola half expected Todd to carry on the argument, but he must have thought better of it, because suddenly he moved away from them, still blustering furiously, `You'll regret this. You've no right to take this attitude and I'll see to it that you're sorry ! ' Denise Graeme forced a laugh. 'You've made an enemy, Barak.' He ignored her. 'Let's go,' he said. From the parking ground came the sound of a car engine being revved furiously and the next moment they heard the screech of tyres on gravel as Todd's car travelled wildly away.
180 WALK IN THE SHADOWS Barak shrugged his shoulders. `What are you doing here, Nicola?' Denise asked coldly. 'Barak, we must talk.' `Not now, for God's sake,' he said impatiently as they reached the Lancia Stratos. 'Get in, Denise, and don't argue.' They made the winding descent in silence, the two girls sharing the passenger seat. Parked outside the Graeme farmhouse, however, Denise made another appeal to Barak, 'Please ... please let's talk.' `I'll see you tomorrow—you and your parents,' he added. 'Right now, I've had enough of you. You can go inside and let your parents know you're home. Perhaps you can apologise for unnecessarily causing them distress. Because it was unnecessary, Denise, as you must realise by now.' Denise paused outside the car and the look she gave Nicola was icy. Nicola stared after her anxiously. 'Will she be all right?' she asked tentatively. `Denise will always be all right,' he said. They started the drive home in silence. She thought inconsequentially that Vanessa must have been mad to choose Karl instead of him Melanie ought to have been Barak's daughter instead of just his niece. After a while she started to weep silently. He said at once, 'Stop it, Nicola. It won't help matters if you cry. It's not worth it. Perhaps I was brutal to do things this way, but I had to make you see what you were ... wasting yourself on. There'll be other better men than Todd. So don't prolong it any further, will you? Let go now, Nicola.' ,
181 He removed his hand from the steering-wheel to touch her wrist briefly. Nicola, trying to stop her tears, didn't reply for the moment. If that was what he thought—that she was crying because of Todd—then she would let that be, because she knew he would hate the thought that her weeping was born of sympathy for him. Barak Sorensen wouldn't want sympathy. Let him think she didn't care about his pain. Nicola swallowed and said, 'Stop being so damned kind : you're not the guardian of my happiness.' She lied, because he was just that, but the angry tone she had forced herself to employ would serve to return them to their earlier antagonistic footing. He was silent until they reached the farmhouse which was in darkness. He switched on one of the wall lamps in the lounge and looked at Nicola in such a way that she became conscious of her appearance and lifted a hand to touch the smooth knot at the nape of her neck. `All right now?' he asked, quite gently. `Yes,' Nicola said curtly, moving to stand at the door which led to the veranda outside her room. He moved nearer to her. 'I'm sorry if you think I was cruel to do it that way,' he said expressionlessly, continuing to look down at her. 'It wasn't to humiliate you.' `Oh no,' Nicola taunted, needing to defend because she was still thinking of what he must be suffering and was frightened of revealing compassion. 'You were merely employing the old and honoured practice of being cruel to be kind, I suppose.' WALK IN THE SHADOWS
182 WALK IN THE SHADOWS `Unfortunately yes,' he said. He put his hands to her waist. 'Nicola?' His eyes dropped to the gentle curve of her mouth, and she swayed slightly towards him. Her eyelids grew heavy with desire; desire which swept over her in great, weakening waves, and she moved closer to him until her trembling body was pressed against his, her hands going up to grasp his shoulders. `Barak ! ' she murmured against his skin in soft entreaty as she felt his hands move from her waist, up over her back. She had carried with her the memory of the other time he had kissed her, but she was still unprepared for the assault on her senses as his mouth sought hers this time. Her fingers were entwined in his dark hair as she moved her body against his, transmitting her urgency to him and feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt. It seemed a fiery eternity before he lifted his mouth from hers. Through a haze of weakness she heard him groan and mutter something as his trembling fingers removed her necklace and dropped it on to the low table beside them. Then he was loosening her silky hair from its knot, running his fingers through its fine texture, and unbuttoning her blouse. `Nicola darling—Nicola!' he said with an intensity which she had never heard from anyone before. His lips against her neck were warm, and she felt herself quivering as his hands caressed her breasts, while her own were busy with his shirt buttons. The passion which had detonated between them drove all restraint from her and she drew his head down again when he
183 would have lifted it, giving a shuddering sigh as his mouth touched hers once more. She didn't know for how long they kissed, but gradually the clarity was returning to her mind, and presently she withdrew from him and, after a moment, managed to say soberly, 'I don't know if this is because you're hurt, or because you think I'm hurt by this evening's events—but no!' Barak's expression was unreadable. He stretched out a hand towards her, then dropped it. `Go, then, Nicola,' he said harshly. As she hesitated, he added, 'Go on. Goodnight.' Blindly Nicola turned and left him. WALK IN THE SHADOWS
CHAPTER SEVEN seemed to Nicola as if she had hardly gone to bed when it was time to get up again. Her rest had been brief and wakeful, because she had lain awake for a long time at first, tormented by thoughts of Barak, and he had even haunted the little sleep she managed to get, so that she had woken several times. As she ate a hurried breakfast, Ellen told her that Barak had gone out. To see the Graemes, Nicola supposed. `I can't think why he hasn't returned to say goodbye to you,' Ellen said in worried tones as the time for Nicola's departure approached. `Oh ... we said goodbye last night,' Nicola lied IT
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hastily as she put down her knife and fork, unable to eat anything more. `That's all right, then.' Ellen sounded relieved. 'I hope you had a good time at Angel's Throne.' `Yes, thank you,' Nicola said soberly. A good time ! She thought of the pain and the yearning and the way the evening had come to a conclusion, and she smiled weakly. `Don't forget to write to us,' Traugott adjured her. `And you must come back some time,' Melanie insisted. She was dressed in her school uniform already, and Ellen would take her to school soon. She added, `Oh yes ! I nearly forgot to tell you, Nicola. That necklace you were wearing last night ... I saw it in the lounge. Don't forget it.' Nicola blushed. 'Thank you,' she murmured. Melanie stared at her, apparently intrigued by her deepening colour. 'How did it come to be there?' `I really can't think,' said Nicola, attempting to speak lightly, and even in the midst of her embarrassment and unhappiness she was able to look at the child with affectionate eyes and think how much she would miss that sober little countenance. `That's what Uncle Barak said when I showed it to him before he went out,' Melanie added. 'Where's he gone, Aunt Ellen? Who was it that phoned so early this morning?' `I don't know, Melanie. Barak didn't tell me. Eat up, dear.' After breakfast, Nicola fetched the jade necklace from the lounge, packed it, and went outside. She wanted a last look at the farm she had grown to love.
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 185 There was the high wall over which she had pushed Melanie. The memory of the rabid dog couldn't even make her shudder because there were so many other things which had affected her more profoundly ... She wandered up to the semi-circle of ashes and looked down on the Vendas working and singing on the plantations below. Further down was Melanie's special copse of trees. Nicola's eyes softened. She was very conscious this morning of the affection she had come to feel for the solemn little girl. She walked down again, to the stretch of land between the house and the gum-tree plantation. It was from here that she had been painting the mountain that first afternoon when Barak had come and ... Well, in some strange way, they had communicated that day. He had even admitted it. And now there was not even to be a goodbye. It seemed wrong that there should be no farewell exchanged between them ... But perhaps last night had been in the nature of a farewell. She lifted a hand in a gesture that was half mocking, half sad. Barak would forget, but she would go on remembering—for ever. She stared unseeingly up at the mountain as she stood there, experiencing a pain which was no less intense for being, by this time, familiar. There could be no remedy, of that she was sure. She thought of Barak continuing to love Vanessa for years after her death, and she despaired, because she was afraid of knowing that sort of bondage. She didn't want years and years of nothingness, grey years with only
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memories colourful. Would she ever emerge from the shadows? When she got home she might travel to Natal and spend some time with her grandparents, she thought sadly. It was a health-giving region, the coast, but she realised that it would take more than ozone to cure her complaint. A sad yearning seeped through her as she recalled all their exchanges and, in particular, his kisses. Was there no help for what ailed her?. No forgetting, ever? Would there always remain these shadows, whatever she did? And her painting? She needed joy to be able to paint, she realised with sudden fear. She recalled her father saying he could see painting taking second place in her life. He had been right about that, she conceded now. And without the man who was of primary importance to her, could her second love mean anything? She needed the first now to find joy in the second. She dragged herself back to the present and, finding herself still gazing up at the mountain, thought—how stupid, how sentimental, to have come here because she and Barak had once talked here. Their relationship, if it could be so termed, had no future, and she ought to get away from here as quickly as possible ... now ... at once ! She turned, then started to shake as she saw Barak coming towards her, tall, casually dressed, immeasurably beloved. So there would, after all, be a farewell. As he reached her, he said easily, 'I meant to be back earlier than this.' He paused, his eyes giving nothing
187 away, no hint if he recalled last night's events, as they swept over her face. His mouth twisted slightly. 'First, I'd better tell you—Todd Baxter crashed his car last night.' For a moment she hardly took it in. Then something in his tone made her ask, 'Dead?' Barak inclined his head, watching her carefully. `Yes. Fortunately the road was deserted, so he didn't take anyone with him He was driving wildly and went over the mountainside.' `How ... how awful,' Nicola said inadequately. 'And Hilary?' Still those light grey eyes never left her face. 'Hilary is ... free now, with a second chance for happiness. But I imagine her experience with Baxter will have made her a very wary woman. I doubt if he'd have ... grown up.' `Yes,' Nicola agreed absently, still busy assimilating the fact of Todd's death. 'And Denise? Is ... is she upset?' `As distressed as she'd be over anyone. She and Baxter had a lot in common I've been with her and her parents this morning. We talked for a long time and it's finally been decided that Denise is to go to Europe. Initially she'll be looking up some distant relatives in Scotland, and then she wants to go on to the Dante Alighieri translators' school in Italy.' Nicola didn't know what to say. How was he feeling? She wanted to keep him talking; it would be goodbye for ever soon enough. Something struck her and she said tentatively, 'But I thought ... the Graemes can't afford that sort of thing?' WALK IN THE SHADOWS
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 188 Then enlightenment dawned and she stared at him wonderingly. He would even do this for Denise, or at least for Denise's ultimate good. He said, and she thought he sounded rueful, 'The Graemes are, in a way, family, Nicola.' She was shaking again, perhaps because of the way he was looking at her, as if he sought to read her mind by scrutinising her face. How much was she giving away? She was genuinely frightened by her own lack of control and she said hastily, 'It's goodbyes all round, then ... I must make my departure now too.' `You don't sound very happy about it,' he commented, sounding amused. 'Why, I wonder?' `Why are you so cruel? You're always mocking—' Nicola began, then stopped, horrified to hear her voice break and feel the tears welling up behind her eyes. She stood helplessly before him, unbearably humiliated and desperately unhappy, while the slow tears trickled over her cheeks. She could do nothing, neither stop the tears nor turn and leave him. She simply stood there, all control and dignity removed from her. `Oh, Nicola!' Now there was amused exasperation in his voice. 'You know my feelings on weeping women.' `I can't help it,' she protested crossly. `I can see that. Poor Nicola, are you very unhappy?' he asked, and now his tone altered to become oddly gentle, although it held an undercurrent of laughter. `I'm beginning to think I'll have to provide you with the same remedy as Denise. How will it suit you,
189 Kola? I must make arrangements for you to go to ,Europe too—with one of your married men.' Nicola looked at him quickly, her eyes suspicious, defensive. He continued, and now he was smiling in the strangest way. 'A very happily married man, and you'll share his name, of course.' `Barak ! ' she said sharply, hardly daring to breathe. `What are you talking about?' He moved closer to her, his eyes alight with laughter and something else that made her catch her breath. 'I trust you believe in those delightful interludes called honeymoons?' `But—but ...' She stared at him, wholly bewitched by that light in his eyes, trying to understand his meaning. It just wasn't possible. 'Tell me straight, Barak,' she begged eventually. `Tell you what?' he asked, drawing her into the circle of his arm. 'That I'm totally unable to resist you?' `What about Denise?' she demanded, still not believing what was happening. He sighed, puffing her closer against him, and Nicola didn't resist him. She could feel the tension in him, and her own body trembled. `As I said just now, the Graemes are, in a way, family. Her parents couldn't cope with Denise, and I, much to my regret, made myself responsible for her. I knew she coveted my home, but it was only recently that I discovered that both she and her parents had categorised me as the child's unofficial fiancé. I dispelled that illusion this morning. Denise's recent beWALK IN THE SHADOWS
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haviour has been aimed at making me see her as a woman, but it had the opposite effect. She has an old mind, but she's immature in many ways. Incidentally, she dispelled an illusion of mine too this morning. She was too distraught to be careful in referring to New Year's Eve's events. I must say it was typical of Denise. Typical of Nicola too.' He moved a hand to caress her cheek. `So you know that ... that there was nothing?' Nicola murmured. `I know. Your reaction just now to the news about Baxter, your concern about Hilary and Denise's re, actions, confirmed what I got out of Denise. Besides which,' he continued drily, 'I had a few words with Melanie this morning and she enlightened me, after a little prompting, as to the difference between holding hands and having your hands held. She also mentioned the unavoidability of certain embraces and informed me that you didn't much like Baxter. So there we have it. Just one thing; what was making you so unhappy last night if it wasn't Baxter?' `I was ... upset for you. I thought you were sad because Denise ... because ...' `That was kind of you, but totally unnecessary,' he assured her. `But, Barak ...' Nicola stirred against him and lifted her face in order to see his. `But what?' he demanded. 'You're not still imagining that I was trying to make Denise a substitute for Vanessa? I know I never actually put you right about that idea, and Denise, Ellen ... everyone ... probably
191 assisted in fostering it, but you were completely wrong there.' It was the beginning of belief and the beginning of joy—the end of pain. Nicola lifted her arms, put them round his neck and said, 'I'm so glad. Oh, Barak, I love you so terribly !' `So wonderfully, darling,' he corrected her gently, and there was an infinite tenderness in the way he caressed her. His arms tightened about her and she was shaken by the expression in his eyes as, he went on, 'When you came here, I wanted you, and shortly afterwards I found myself loving you. That was why I hated you to mention Vanessa. You came with all your bright newness, making her fade. That was a young love, darling. Where you are concerned, Nicola, I love you with a man's love for a woman, and I need and want you.' Nicola lifted her mouth to his, but not before taking a happy, wondering look at his face. She had seen the dawn before, but no lightening sky had ever given her the rapture she now experienced in seeing the softening of the beloved dark face above hers. Then her lids fell over her eyes and her lips parted as he lowered his head to ignite her need of him. His hands caressing her were gentle at first, bringing her to a slow awakening; then they grew urgent and demanding as their shared passion mounted and he felt her response. Presently he took his mouth away from hers, murmuring, 'You still haven't told me if you approve of a European honeymoon.' Nicola's eyes were alight. 'You only told me, you didn't ask me.' WALK IN THE SHADOWS
192 WALK IN THE SHADOWS Then, as his arms tightened again, she whispered his name urgently as she moved against him. `I knows darling,' he murmured, and she didn't question his understanding but merely sighed happily as she read her future in his eyes and gave herself up to the matchless sensation of being cherished.
