Rose of the Desert (15 page)

"I expect you're wondering what all this is about," Mrs. Rowland smiled, taking their coffee out on to the veranda, "and I'm not one to beat about the bush, so I'll tell you straight away. We're looking for someone to take over with the children occasionally. Clay mentioned you, and Steve asked me to sound you out. He's quite enthusiastic about the idea."Julie hesitated.

"I'm not sure I'd be capable of... you see, I..

"We don't necessarily need a trained person," Mrs. Rowland explained. "Just someone to watch over them in the garden, take them for the occasional trip to the beach."

"It doesn't sound too difficult," Julie smiled. Lynn Rowland leaned forward hopefully.

"We couldn't manage oil company wages, of course, but with a room here and your meals, you might find you're slightly better off."

"You mean you would want me to live here?"

"It would be better." She rose and gazed over the garden with a humorous twinkle. "The imps can be pretty demanding, I must be truthful. I like to think they're reasonably well behaved, but at that age they do tend to sap the life's blood a little. With someone on hand I could devote more time to Steve when he's home. We might even find that we could take a break somewhere, just the two of us." The eyes softened, and Julie knew she was looking at a woman very much in love with her husband.

"Do you think I'll be able to help?" she asked.

"My dear, you're just right for the children. I know it Young and pretty." She laughed a little sheepishly. "Bella's a treasure in the kitchen, but she terrifies the children, poor soul, and I think she's half frightened of them."

She turned to take Julie in from head to toe.

"You don't know what a boon you are—an English girl out here. I only wish I'd known about you sooner, Steve's due back at the camp tomorrow."

"So he won't be home for a month?"

Mrs. Rowland nursed herself with pleasure. "Of course you won't have heard. The company has changed its rota. It's a fortnight on and a week off now." She studied Julie's face. "Well, what do you think?"

Julie rose. "I'm not sure what to do about my air passage. You see, I was due to fly home tomorrow."

"Clay told me to tell you he'll make all the necessary cancellations if you decide to stay on. I believe he's out with the American girl this evening, but," she added reassuringly, "I can ring him at his hotel last thing tonight if you like."

Julie's fingers clutched imperceptibly round her handbag. Wouldn't it be better to get away from all this now? Clay obviously had close connections with the Rowland family. If she stayed she ran the risk of encountering him occasionally ... she might even find herself a spectator on the blossoming of a certain romance. No! No, she couldn't do that…

Her mind had formed the words that would refuse the offer. For after all it
teas
an offer. To stay on in the land of permanent blue sky and silky sea. Where the palms flickered cool green in the heat of the day, and the black nights throbbed with dewdrop stars.

She drew in her underlip and caught Mrs. Rowland eyeing her with dark entreaty. It was the look of a woman who had found the divine answer to sharing herself equally between husband and children and Julie hadn't the heart to dispel it No doubt there were many more English girls in Tripoli, but a mother would naturally feel easier with someone she knew something about, and Julie
had
worked in close contact with Steve for some considerable time.

"Then it's settled." She offered her hand with a smile, "When would you want me to come?"

Mrs. Rowland clasped the hand warmly. "Tomorrow if you like, I'll introduce you to Janet and Mark and turn them over to you for short periods during the day. They'll get used to having you around, without actually losing sight of me ..."

She talked on about the children until the hired car returned and Julie found herself being transported back to the hotel. Through the windows she saw in the distance a cluster of domes and minarets. In the moonlight they looked like a tray of frosted fancy cakes. Dreamily she realised that now she needn't cling fervently to every passing scene as though for the last time. There would be many more nights like this to rapture over. She didn't permit herself the luxury of wondering when she would see a tanned arrogant face again. That would only be opening up old wounds.

The next few days proved to be balm to Julie's heart For once in her life she had the feeling of really belonging.

The children had taken to her from the moment they learned she was game to push the swing uncomplaining for hours, and walk alone into the darkest corner of the garden. They were fair like their father, but for Janet the resemblance ended there. She was a tiny miniature of her mother, with quick brown eyes and a piquant alertness to everything around her. Mark, who was a pocket edition of his father, was plump and inclined to be thoughtful. He would take perhaps ten minutes to decide which toy he wanted to play with.

Looking at them now as she sat on the lawn, Julie thought of her own childhood. A blurred memory of mother and father together and a small life of warm security, and then quite suddenly, boarding schools. Clay hadn't been far out when he surmised that she had plunged from school life straight into a London career. Up to the age of eighteen the school dormitory had been her home, and after a London flat. Even school holidays had been the inevitable trek to the seaside hotel in the company of other abandoned children, and supervised by an equally deserted adult.

Her father loved her, Julie knew, but on the rare occasions he had visited her she had sensed an apologetic remoteness about him, a reluctance to look too long at her face, or listen too long to her chatter. If only he hadn't always been so aloof, Julie mused wistfully, they might have made something of their lives together.

She thought of the Rowland household, fairly bursting with love. Steve adored his wife. There was no mistaking the dejection in his eyes when he had to leave for the oil camp. With a wink at Julie he had swept up his children one in each arm, and dumped them in giggling heaps on the lawn. Lynn had walked to the car with him and waved him off to the end of the road, turning back into the drive with a resigned smile. But that was over a week ago. Since then they had weeded and tidied the garden together, caught up on a backlog of mending, and taken it in turns to supervise the children. She had learned a little of Lynn's life, how^she had travelled the world making publicity films for a national corporation until five years ago when she had met Steve holidaying in Morocco. Now she was a housewife and mother with no regrets, looking eagerly forward to the end of each working period when her husband would be back with her again.

She came through the veranda doors now, fresh in a cream suit and hat.

"How do you feel about taking over for a couple of hours, Julie?" she called. "I thought I might walk down to the shops. Bella tells me they've got some deliciously vivid blouses in Dano's."

"I feel so redundant," Julie laughed guiltily, stretching her legs on the chaise-longue. "Janet and Mark have been in a huddle for the past half hour. It's all very secret and mysterious."

"Don't worry, it won't last." Lynn gave a wry smile. "If it does make the most of it. They'll make up for it another day. I won't disturb them with a kiss. 'Bye!" She waved and disappeared along the drive.

After another fifteen minutes had elapsed Julie thought it might be advisable to go in search of the children. Their voices had grown gradually fainter, and now she could hear them through the gateway of the courtyard. Perhaps Mark had decided to take a turn on his bike. But no. She found them both sprawled out on the flagstones poking with dusty fingers at some object between them.

At the sight of Julie, Jane jumped to her feet, eyes wide with guilt. She skipped forward with forced gaiety.

"Julie! Julie! Come and look what we found!"

"Yes, Doolie, come and have a look. Doolie!"

Mark was lying on his tummy staring down in hypnotised fascination. The object moved and Julie felt her flesh creep, though she kept a bright smile. She moved forward to take a closer look.

The spider was about the size of a florin with hairy legs like combs. It was prevented from running to any great lengths by a circle of toy bricks and an occasional wallop from a small hand.

"He's in the zoo!" Janet hopped proudly. "We captured him for our zoo!"

"We captered him," Mark echoed, adding importantly, "I picked him up from a fower."

"Mark, I don't think you should touch it like that," Julie offered tactfully, though she felt faint from fear.

"Come over here to me, there's a good boy."

Mark didn't move.

"I captered him," he murmured ponderously. "He's in our zoo." He put a fat fist out to push back a hairy leg and Julie ran forward. "Mark!"

"It's quite harmless."

A voice floated lazily from behind, and Mark was swung away from her and high on to Clay's shoulder. She gazed up with stricken eyes and he grinned round at Mark.

"Nevertheless, young fellow, I think we'll put him back amongst the flowers. Girls aren't as tough as us, you know. Spiders scare 'em."

Mark wriggled down and strutted with a swelled chest, "I'ne not scared. I picked him up."

"I'm not scared and
I'm
a girl." Janet ran forward with an offended flick of her pony-tail.

"No, you're not, you're just a breath of wind."

She shrieked with delight as he swung her up and down again with one arm.

"Right, then. Who's coming to see where we drop him?" Unceremoniously Clay scopped up the spider and strode off down the garden. Mark hesitated, staring at the empty circle of bricks.

"I captered him for our zoo."

"You don't have spiders in zoos." Clay called, and with a wicked glint at Julie, "What you want is a nice fat mouse."

"Ooh yes! A nice fat mouse! "

Gleefully the children took Julie's hands and dragged her down the garden. The spider, forgotten by now, was dumped down by a clump of jasmine, and ambled off over the coarse grass. Janet and Mark tore across the lawn, throwing themselves into various leaps and somersaults for Clay's benefit.

"As it-happens I'm not in the least afraid of spiders," Julie stated primly, "but there are certain poisonous species to be found abroad. I just wasn't sure."

"You did the right thing," Clay nodded. "It's wise to keep a healthy respect for anything that moves in the tropics."

There was a silence in which she heard the squeak of his shoes crushing the grass.

"Lynn's out," she mentioned casually.

"I know. I've just seen Bella." He flicked
a
glance her way. "Like the job?"

"Very much."

"I thought I'd leave you to get settled in."

What he meant was he couldn't spare the time. He must have spent the best part of his leave with Tamara. They came on to the terrace where a table and several chairs were set in the shade of a spreading cypress. Clay hitched his trousers and dropped down.

"I could use a drink."

"I'll see what Bella's got. Will iced lime do?"

"Fine."

She returned with the lime and glasses on a tray, and at the tinkle of ice, Janet and Mark, hot and sticky, struggled on to the terrace. Julie smiled.

"Bella's got your orange juice, but I think there's a little cleaning up to be done first."

She led them inside, leaving Clay staring over the lawn. When she emerged his glass was drained and he was pulling on a cigarette. She sank down as he poured her
a
drink.

"I'm flying back to Guchan tonight"

Julie struggled to quell the hurt. Nearly two weeks of leave and he had come here on practically his last hour, and then probably only to see Lynn and the children. He handed her the glass, watching her face. She managed brightly,

"At least the working period isn't so long now. Lynn tells me it's a fortnight on and a week off."

"Not for me it isn't. I come and go when I can. Maybe my successor will get a better deal now that the Guchani oil project is pretty well on its feet."

"Your successor ?"

Julie couldn't keep the curiosity out of her voice. There was only the clink of ice in her glass as he paused and drew lazily on his cigarette.

"I've been offered a desk job in administration.'*

"Will you take it?"

He shrugged. "A villa in Tripoli might not be a bad idea."

"I can't imagine it," she replied jerkily, swishing the ice round in her glass. The idea of Clay becoming part of some domestic scene somewhere shook her. She had always wanted to imagine him as the tough, impervious oilfields boss, dedicated to his profession. It was bearable that way. Now he was talking of a villa in Tripoli. Had Tamara got through somehow?

"Can't you?" he was saying with a sour smile. "I don't see why not. Civilisation hooks us all eventually, you know." There was the sound of footsteps on the drive, and Lynn came swinging round the bend, a couple of parcels in her hand.

"Clay! How marvellous!" she beamed. "Are you staying for a meal?"

He got to his feet with a grin.

"If you're sure it won't upset Bella."

"I'll go and soft-soap her right now." She winked conspiratorily and disappeared inside.

"The desert widows," Clay murmured drily, watching her go.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Desert widows. That's what the women call themselves. They're compelled to live in the towns, while their husbands spend the best part of their lives in the desert."

"Lynn and Steve seem happy enough," Julie pointed out.

"Maybe, but to my mind it's not the ideal arrangement."

"Is that why you've never married?"

She could ask this question because Clay had his back to her. He slanted a glance her way, his face expressionless.

"You could say that."

After a silence she asked,

"Did Tamara get my address?"

Though it was like smoothing ft rash with glass paper she "just had to bring Tamara out into the open. Clay nodded.

"I was going to drive her out here this afternoon, but something turned up regarding this air base job."