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Authors: Anne Hampson

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Love Stories

BOOK: South of Capricorn
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She shook her head, her mind too clouded in any case for her to be able to find an answer to so difficult a question. He began to speak, rather gently and with what could only be described as infinite understanding. His confidences went in his favour and as he continued she found herself carried away on a tide of helplessness until, in the end, her decision was made and she gave him her answer. He smiled and thanked her; she knew a half pleasant, half disturbing tingling sensation rippling throughout her body.
Had she made her own decision, or had it been made for her by some subtle mechanism worked by Kane Farrell? More important, had she made the right decision? Gail just had to mention this to Kane, speaking impulsively and with a tremor of anxiety in her voice.
‘Yes, Gail,’ he said gently, ‘you have made the right decision. Have no doubts about it; you’ll not regret what you’re doing.’
She looked up at him, and then down at Leta. The child’s eyes were shining through her tears and a smile trembled on her lips.
‘She looks so ... different,’ murmured Gail, dazed and wondering where the familiar mulish expression had gone.
‘People do,’ returned Kane in his quiet unhurried tone, ‘when they’re happy.’
Gail shook her head, more bewildered than ever by this strange man who obviously had two very contrasting parts to his nature.
‘I don’t understand how you came to neglect her for so long,’ she just had to say, and in return Kane said, looking directly at her,
‘Remember what I said about parts unknown?’ And when she nodded her head, ‘Try to keep that in mind, Gail—it might help you in the difficult task which you’ve taken on.’
Chapter Four
THE sun was setting and in the garden a couple of kookaburras sat on the forked branch of a white gum tree and growled throatily. Leta, walking with Gail along the path bordering the shrubbery, gave a loud laugh, then complained pettishly when the jackos failed to join in.
‘Why don’t they laugh?’
‘They will, when they’re ready.’ Gail, enchanted by the marbled effect of light and shade brought about by the ever lowering angle of the sun’s rays, had no ear for the murmurings of a fractious child, even though it was her job to look after her.
‘Why aren’t they ready now?’
‘They seem to laugh more in the mornings.’ Her eyes wandered to the long line of mountains, the MacDonnall Ranges, rising above the more gentle landscape, their peaks crimson on the sky line. And as she watched there appeared the dark silhouette of a brumby, a magnificent creature with mane flowing as it raced across her line of vision. Nearer to, and with considerably less movement, could be seen two Aborigine stockriders, appearing to glide about among the mob of cattle roaming the plain. Excellent horsemen and mus- terers, their numbers were high on Vernay Downs Station. Kane Farrell always spoke in praise of them.
‘I know they laugh in the mornings! But why don’t they laugh all the time?’
‘Because they’d get tired. You’d get tired if you laughed all the time.’ The shadows were deepening on the plains and Gail had the impression of a vast sea of darkest blue. ‘Come, it’s getting dark; we must go in.’
‘I want the jackos to laugh first!’
‘I want - I want - I want!’ The interruption came from the woman sitting on the front verandah, the words being called in a raised tone so that they would be heard. Turning her head, Leta put out her tongue before twisting her face into the most grotesque lines.
‘Mind your own business, Mrs. Nosey-Parker! Go in and shut your door!’
‘Leta!’ began Gail, then realized that the child’s father was there, having approached silently after leaving his horse, Golden Light, in the tender care of Jimmy, the Abo rouseabout.
Kane Farrell’s glance was stem, but to Gail’s surprise he made no attempt to admonish his daughter. Instead, he put out a hand to ruffle her hair.
‘Happy?’ he asked her, but his eyes were on Gail’s face.
‘Yes, Daddy, I’m happy!’
‘Do you know how long you’ve been here?’
‘One week and one day!’
‘That’s right. Good girl for keeping count.’
‘I’m not a good girl,’ chuckled Leta, seizing his hand and putting it to her cheek. ‘I’m a very naughty girl!’ She glanced slyly at him. ‘You don’t want me to be good, do you, Daddy?’
Was he put out by this? wondered Gail, trying to read that impenetrable expression even though she knew the futility of her efforts. For what Leta said was true; her father had no desire for an immediate reformation in his errant daughter ... no, not until his plan had succeeded. And after that? A wry expression entered Gail’s eyes. Young Leta was in for a shock! Gail had never been so sure of anything as she was of Kane’s ability to bring his child to heel. A week in his house had more than proved to her the supreme mastery of the man, even though she had seen little of him, as he was out for practically the whole of each day, returning to the homestead merely for lunch and then at dusk, when he was finished work - at least, outside. After dinner he usually went off to a private room of his own — an office-cum-snug - one of the lubras had termed it one day when Gail had met her coming from the room, which she had just been cleaning.
‘You haven’t answered my question,’ Leta was saying. ‘You don’t want me to be good, do you?’
‘I’ve never said such a thing.’ His voice to Gail held an edge that warned, but it was not meant to be heard by Leta and as she continued to look at Kane, Gail could not suppress a smile. His eyebrows shot up inquiringly.
‘Something amusing you, Gail?’
She nodded, but glanced at the verandah. Following the direction of her eyes Kane nodded too, but he made no comment and Leta began chattering, demanding to know how she could make the kookaburras laugh.
‘You can’t. They laugh when they feel like it, just as you do.’
‘If I tell them they must—’
‘You can’t order them the way you order people,’ chided Gail. She was awkward in Kane’s company, as always, and she would have escaped were it at all possible. She had no desire to be with him, and this was - she admitted quite freely - owing to the manner in which she was affected by him. She had hated him before meeting him and she intended to go on hating him, because of what he had done to Sandra. But the more she saw of him the more she was tom by doubts, not only that there might have been some excuse for his conduct, but that she herself might reach the point when she no longer even disliked him.
‘Do you generally order people about?’ he was inquiring of Leta and, when the child said yes, he then added, ‘I think I must get to know you a little better, young lady. Eight days you’ve been here and I still know practically nothing about you.’
‘You know her character - to a great extent,’ put in Gail shortly.
‘I know she’s not well-behaved, yes.’
‘Her mother was so gentle and unoffending,’ mused Gail without thinking.
‘So Leta doesn’t take after her? Is that what you’re telling me?’
He had asked for it, decided Gail, and she answered, looking directly up into his face,
‘It is, yes.’
‘So she must take after me?’
‘That’s what I was implying,’ she returned with honesty, and to her surprise, his only reaction was to say, with a quality of amused satire in his voice,
‘I won’t argue with you, my dear.’
My dear ... She wished he would not say it; it always awakened some strong but unfathomable emotion within her.
‘Do you mind if I go inside?’ she asked, constraint in her manner. ‘I would like to wash my hair before dinner.’
‘By all means,’ he assented. They had drawn nearer to the verandah and were now so close that his stepmother was able to hear what they said. And for her benefit he put his arm around Gail’s shoulder and touched her cheek with his lips, an action which he had done once before, and which then, as now, left her blushing adorably.
Gladly she made her escape to the elegant bedroom which had its spectacular view to the mountains whose summits were now bathed in the honey light of evening. She was glad to be alone because Leta was a drag on the nerves. No improvement had taken place, and none would until Kane Farrell’s purpose was served and his stepmother and her daughter driven out of Vernay Downs.
Sitting down on a chair, Gail leant back among the cushions, determined to relax for a few minutes before washing her hair. And not unnaturally her thoughts took a backswitch, drifting on what were now familiar lines, since on the rare occasions when she was alone, she invariably went over that unforgettable scene which had culminated in her accepting Kane Farrell’s offer.
He had confided in her the reason for his wanting her to pose as his wife; he had offered her a salary quite beyond her wildest dreams; he had promised that, at the end of her stay, he would give her a lump sum and also pay all the expenses incurred by her return trip to England. He would keep Leta, he had promised - although Gail sensed a strange hesitancy before he answered her question about this.
‘She’s your daughter,’ Gail had said, ‘and if I do this for you you must promise to keep her.’ It was then that he had seemed to hesitate. Nevertheless, once he had made the promise, Gail had not the smallest doubt that he would honour it.
Immediately after she had accepted his offer they discussed the problem of Leta.
‘She’s extremely intelligent,’ Gail informed him, ‘so she’ll grasp what you want to tell her. She’ll carry out the instructions if you bribe her—’
‘Bribe?’ he murmured, at this moment bending down as he made some billy tea for them to drink while the discussions were taking place, and the necessary plans made. ‘Bribe?’ he repeated, glancing at his daughter.
‘She usually has to have chocolates and toys—’ Gail was interrupted by Kane’s quiet, ‘Leta will do as she’s told without being bribed. Am I right, child?’ he added, and Leta, although pouting first - merely from force of habit - said yes, he was right. At which he threw his ‘wife’ a look of sardonic amusement not unmingled with triumph. ‘You don’t know how to handle her,’ he murmured, straightening up and handing Gail a cup of tea. ‘Come here,’ he ordered Leta, and she came to him at once. ‘Now, do you really want to stay here with me?’
‘Of course. I want to have a daddy of—’
‘Yes, you’ve already told me that. But you heard me say that you could only stay if Gail stayed too.’
‘Yes - you know I heard, because I cried when she said she wouldn’t stay.’
‘She’s staying now, as you know.’
‘I’m glad she is - but I don’t like her much because she doesn’t like me—’
‘Gail is staying so that you can stay!’ he interrupted sternly. ‘What do you mean, you don’t like her?’
‘I don’t like any people - only you, and Dave.’
Her father ignored this, going on to explain, slowly and carefully, exactly what he wanted of her. ‘So whether you like Gail or not you’ve to learn to call her Mummy. And mind you don’t forget—’ He wagged a warning finger at her. ‘If you do, and you call her Gail, then off you go, back to England!’
The child actually went pale.
‘I might forget,’ she began, and for the first time ever Gail saw her troubled. ‘I must try hard not to forget.’
‘And the next thing,’ continued Kane when he felt sure that he was making himself felt, ‘is that you never answer any questions which people in the house might ask. Is that also clear?’
Leta’s forehead wrinkled.
‘If I do you’ll send me home again?’
Smiling faintly at her way of putting it, her father said yes, he would send her home immediately, if she disobeyed his order.
‘I won’t answer any questions,’ she returned, brightening up all at once. ‘I don’t like people asking me questions anyway. I always tell them to mind their own business!’
He frowned at this and glanced at Gail.
‘Is that true?’
She gave a grimace.
‘Perfectly true.’
‘Well, it serves our purpose for the time being.’
‘I’m the rudest little girl on earth,’ piped in Leta with a chuckle. ‘Another lady down our street said so.’
‘So it would seem,’ grimly from her father. ‘However, as I said, it will serve our purpose.’ This to Gail, who nodded in agreement before putting the cup to her mouth and sipping the hot tea. Kane took a drink, his expression thoughtful as he mused on what other in-structions he must give to Leta. There were several; she listened, her eyes alert, intelligent, and he was pleased with what he saw. ‘She’ll do,’ he declared with satisfaction. ‘She’s a very bright little girl.’
‘Dave said that as well!’
‘Is that why you like him?’
‘Yes - but I like him for other things as well. He doesn’t keep saying I’m wicked like other people. And when they say I’m wicked I want to be very wicked!’
‘Seems reasonable,’ nodded her father thoughtfully. ‘I think I’d feel the same.’
Gail gave a little start of surprise.
‘You’re encouraging her,’ she almost snapped. ‘When you know her better, Mr. Farrell—’
‘Kane’s the name, remember. You’re my wife.’
She coloured vividly and looked away, Kane gave a small laugh and would have turned his attention to Leta again, but Gail decided to finish what she had been saying.
‘When you know her better, you’ll realize that she needs no encouragement to be naughty!’
He looked at her in silence for a space, a slight frown knitting his brows.
‘You’re not a psychologist, are you, Gail?’
‘I did once wonder if her trouble was psychological,’ was the defensive response.
‘Certainly it’s psychological,’ he pronounced emphatically. ‘There’s no doubt at all—’
‘What does that long word mean?’ interposed Leta with interest.
‘Nothing you would understand,’ answered Gail, before Kane could do so. ‘Look, your doll’s in that bush over there. You’ll not find her if it gets dark.’

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