The Blue Mountains of Kabuta (21 page)

Her mother smiled. ‘Darling, Alex is so right. I might have married long ago, only I wanted to see you happily married first. I'm glad, though, I waited. I'm sure we're going to be very happy. The only thing is, darling, I'll miss you terribly.'

Jon stared at her, puzzled, and then understood. Alex was sure that once he had married her mother, Jon would let them have the farm and go away. That was what he planned. Perhaps that was why he was marrying her mother? Caroline had said he
was
ruthless and cruel.

‘I'm going away soon to meet his family, Jon, and . . .'

‘I thought his parents were dead.'

‘Oh, they are. What he calls his family are the three children he had by his first marriage. His wife died, you see, and they live with his brother.'

‘I didn't know he'd been married before?'

What a dark horse Alex was! Hiding everything as if there was something to be ashamed of. But Alex with three children . . .

‘Will they live with you? The children, I mean?'

Her mother smiled. ‘I doubt it. They're in their late teens. Anyhow, we'll see.' She stood up. ‘I'm so glad we've had this little talk, darling, and you've taken it so well. I was a bit afraid you'd be hurt.'

Jon hugged her mother. ‘Of course not, darling,' she lied. ‘Why should I be hurt? I'm only glad you're so happy.'

‘I wasn't sure at first. I thought the difference in our ages was too great, but the more I know him, the more I . . . well, maybe this sounds odd coming from an oldie as I must seem to you, but I love him dearly and I think—in fact, I'm sure—we'll be very happy.'

‘Oh, Mum, I'm so glad . . . for you,' Jon said, and kissed her, turning away quickly, afraid lest her mother see the tears in her eyes. ‘Is it a secret or is the engagement going to be
announced?'

‘A secret, of course. Please don't tell anyone at all, Jon. We plan a quiet wedding and if everyone knew . . . well, we'd have to ask everyone. So not a word.'

‘Not a word,' Jon promised.

Alone in her bedroom, she gazed in the mirror. Had she lost weight? Her face looked thinner. Her mouth turned down at the corners. She looked exactly what she was—an idiot drowned in self-pity. She should be ashamed. Think of all the unhappy years her mother had known, the shock of losing a beloved husband so soon, the loneliness, the fact that she was growing older every day— surely she was entitled to happiness? After all, Jon told herself, she was young. Only twenty-three. There would be years ahead of her.

If only . . . She flung herself on the bed, hugging the pillow tightly, keeping her eyes shut. How could she bear it? Would she be a bridesmaid? Kissed by the bridegroom after the ceremony? Laughing, wishing them happiness, watching them go, alone together and for always? How could she do it?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

One week later, Tim asked Jon to be his wife. Despite the gossip, Kirsty's advice and Alex's
accusations,
all the same it came as a surprise—perhaps because it had been such a strange day for Jon, a confused day, mixed with fear and reassurance, with love and hate.

The day began with heavy rain, grey skies and the mountains hidden behind heavy mists. There was a surprising coldness in the air, a chill that seemed to penetrate the pale blue cardigan Jon wore over a thin white shirt. She was wearing denim jeans too because they might be warmer. The weather changed so fast —the day before had been so swelteringly hot, yet today . . . She shivered.

The dogs were restless, so she played a game with them, throwing a small ball up and down the stoep. The floor was highly polished, so the dogs skidded as they tried to stop or leap after the ball. They loved the game and it was better than taking them out in the thick mud.

Her mother was to be fetched by a neighbour for lunch and a bridge session.

‘I always seem to be out these days, darling,' Ursula said, a little wistfully. Although they had not talked of her approaching wedding since that night of honesty, somehow they were much closer and Jon felt again that her mother loved her.

‘By the way, Jon, why are you having the guest house painted?'

Jon grabbed hold of the rubber ball, ignoring the dogs' eager thrusts as they waited
impatiently
for the game to continue.

‘Why, Mum, didn't I tell you that Alex told me to?'

‘‘Alex? Was it his idea?'

‘Yes. He said that after you had gone, Tim would have to sleep there.'

‘Of course. I'd forgotten. Jon . . .' her mother hesitated for a moment, ‘Are you in love with Tim?'

Jon shrugged her shoulders. ‘I'm fond of him, but love . . .' Suddenly she wondered if it might make it easier for her mother if she believed that Jon was in love with Tim and that one day they might be married. ‘I'm not sure, Mum. I haven't known him long, and besides,' she smiled, ‘he hasn't asked me.'

A long grey car came into the drive. ‘He will,' said Ursula. ‘But be very sure before you say yes, darling. Tim is a dear boy, but . . .'

‘I promise I won't rush into it, Mum. We'll be engaged for at least six months.'

‘Good, darling. Somehow I thought . . .'

The woman behind the driving wheel of the car gave an impatient hoot and Ursula laughed.

‘Coming!' she called, and Jon held an umbrella over her as they ran to the car.

Jon waved goodbye and walked back into the house slowly.

The dogs came racing to meet her. Even old Jocky, who had taken so long to accept her, came now, wagging his tail. Throwing the ball,
squeezing
it out of the dogs' mouths if they refused to drop it, passed the time, Jon thought. Later she would study her language book and ask Dorcas if she was pronouncing the words correctly. Suddenly she wondered where Tim was. Probably out on the lands somewhere, though as a rule he stayed indoors when it rained hard, leaving it to the
induna
to cope.

At that moment Dorcas jerked open the house door and stood, breathless and frightened.

‘Jonah's cut his hand, missis. Very bad cut with much blood.'

‘I'll come,' said Jon, leaving the dogs on the stoep as they would only jump about, barking and perhaps alarming Jonah, one of the farm hands.

She took the first aid box and hurried through the kitchen. Jonah, a short thin man, was squatting on the small porch, sheltered from the worst of the rain, holding the damaged hand by the wrist and watching the blood dripping to the ground . . .

At the same moment, a truck came round behind the house and drew up. Jon saw with mixed dismay and relief that it was Alex. He came striding through the rain, ankle deep in the mud. Would he stand and watch her cope, she wondered—or take over?

She might have known which he'd do! ‘I'll cope with this,' he said gruffly. ‘Go and put on
a
mackintosh, Jon, and boots. Where on earth is this manager of yours?'

‘Out on the lands,' said Jon, standing back and watching Alex quickly wash his hands before coping with Jonah.

‘More likely asleep in his bed,' Alex said sourly. ‘Get going, Jon. We've no time to waste. Get your mackintosh, I've something to show you.'

Jon hesitated. ‘Mum's out.'

‘I know that. Hurry, we've no time to spare.'

‘Why.'

Alex straightened. ‘Look, Jon, do I have to spell it out? Be quick about it!' he snapped.

Jon turned and obeyed, thrusting her bare feet into the small wellington boots, pulling on her mackintosh and tying a scarf round her head and hurrying back to the kitchen, wondering what it was Alex wanted to show her. Was it something to do with Tim?

Alex was waiting impatiently, telling the girls something.

‘I ought to leave a note . . .' Jon began.

‘There isn't time. I've told them.' Alex's hand gripped her arm and he almost thrust her in front of him through the heavy rain and mud to the truck. Now she could see that two of Alex's workers were squatting in the back under a tarpaulin, and that each had a rifle.

He almost pushed her into the truck, then ran round and climbed up into the driver's seat, switched on the ignition and drove over
the
squelching mud round the house and out through the gate.

‘Where are we going?' Jon asked.

‘Wait and see.'

Alex didn't speak again for the first hour. Nor did Jon. She could see how angry he was, but with whom she didn't know. Was it with her? With Tim? Who? She sat, hunched up, for it was cold as the truck swerved and jerked on the bad earth road, skidding, sliding perilously near the long drops as they climbed the mountains and slid down into the valleys again. The rain pelted down so that the windscreen wipers found it hard to work, and then, without warning, the rain stopped and she saw that they were driving into a dry area. It was even more strange when they began to send up clouds of dust behind them.

‘They've had no rain here,' she said wonderingly.

Alex didn't turn his head. ‘Obviously,' he said.

After that she stayed quiet for a long time. It was getting hotter and hotter as they went lower down in the huge valley. She struggled out of her mackintosh and pushed the scarf into one of the pockets. Then she wiped the dust off her face with an old tissue.

‘Is it much farther?' she asked as the silence became unbearable.

‘Not much.'

Suddenly she could stand it no longer.
‘What's
wrong, Alex? Why are you so mad about something?'

‘I'm not mad. I'm furious.'

‘Well, furious, then. Where are we going and why?'

He slowed up and she saw a high wire fence with an entrance and someone who came out of a small but to unlock the gates.

‘Is this a game reserve?'

‘Precisely,' he said curtly.

They drove more slowly along the wide track, past trees and bushes, but she saw no animals.

As if he could read her thoughts, he said: ‘Too hot for them to be about. The early morning is the best time.'

‘Then why have we come now?'

He turned to look at her and she had never seen such anger on his face before. ‘We have come,' he said very slowly, ‘to shoot a lion.'

‘What? You're going to . . . to shoot a lion?' Jon almost gasped.

He smiled, a smile without amusement. ‘You called me a murderer for money—or perhaps those were Caroline's words. I thought you might like to see what happens, only this time I don't get paid for it.'

‘But . . .' she began, then stopped, for they had gone into another wire surrounded area only this time, there was a small, single-storied house that was half hidden by purple bougainvillea flowers. Even as they stopped,
the
front door opened and a girl came out. She looked about twenty with red hair and a weary frightened face.

‘Alex!' she said, almost tumbling down the steps to meet him. ‘I don't know how to thank you. I've had to fight Mike to keep him in bed and his temperature is a hundred and five. Could you see him and make him realize . . .' Suddenly she must have seen Jon, for she looked startled. ‘Would you like a cup of coffee?'

Jon nodded and slid down from the high truck. Alex had already vanished into the house and the two girls followed.

‘I've just made us some coffee, so it's lucky,' the girl said, then laughed. ‘Oh, dear, I don't know if I'm on my head or my heels! My name is Nancy Kirkwood and my husband is a game warden, but he's ill with 'flu and he's a bit bronchitis-inclined, so I've got to look after him. Last year he had pneumonia . . . and there's an absolute epidemic here of 'flu and . . .' She rubbed a hand wearily over her face. ‘So I phoned Alex. He never lets us down.'

Jon, sipping the hot sweet coffee, began to speak. ‘But why . . .' but she had no chance to finish the sentence, for Alex returned and took the cup out of her hand.

‘We must get going. Mike sees sense, Nancy. I'm taking his guide to show me where the lion is.'

‘Shouldn't she . . . I don't know your name
.
. . shouldn't she stay with me, Alex?' Nancy asked worriedly. ‘Mike will never take me along.'

‘This is different. Jon wants to see a kill,' Alex said his voice grim.

‘No, I . . .' Jon began, but again was given no chance as Alex pulled her along, forcing her outside and almost throwing her up into the truck as a short African jumped up in the back and spoke to the other two men and then the truck jerked forward.

Jon felt sick as she sat still. How could Alex be so cruel? She had no desire to see a poor lion slaughtered. Why must they kill him? Why couldn't the lion go on living? Wasn't that what game reserves were for? she thought, but, glancing at Alex, she decided this was not the right moment to talk to him.

They drove some distance along the main road but saw nothing, and then as the guide leaned over from the back and shouted at Alex, the truck left the road and jolted its way across what was little more than a track. Jon looked round her miserably, dreading what lay ahead. Even the sight of a group of monkeys squatting on the ground, staring at them, didn't ease her misery.

Finally Alex swung the steering wheel round and stopped under a group of trees. He jumped down and came round to her side. His face was grim, his mouth a thin line. He had a rifle in his hand.

‘Stay
put,' he ordered curtly. ‘Lions are not socially minded. Keep the window shut.'

She watched him as he, the guide and one other man walked slowly through the thick yellow grass. Looking back, she saw that the other man was standing up in the truck, his rifle ready. Was he there to protect her? she wondered.

She shivered. Alex had said that lions were not socially minded. Neither were elephants. Suppose one walked out on to . . .

She caught her breath as fear went through her. Was Alex mad? Anything could happen to him. Suppose the lion was hiding and then leapt . . .