Women and War (7 page)

Alys swallowed the pea and took a deep breath.

‘Has Race been to see you, Daddy?'

‘Race? Hmm – no.' Daniel's reply was short because his mouth was full but even without turning to look at her Alys was aware of the frost that emanated from Frances at just the mention of his name.

‘Why should Race want to see your father?' she demanded.

‘Because I suggested he should.' Alys laid down her fork. ‘Daddy – Race is desperate for somebody to back him. He's been setting everything on driving in the Grand Prix and now it's all gone wrong. He still has work to do on his car and the garage he's involved with is going bankrupt.'

Daniel Peterson washed his meat and vegetables down with a great gulp of wine. ‘And what do you expect me to do about it?' he asked.

‘I thought maybe you …'

‘So that's it!' Frances said sharply. They all turned to look at her. ‘I knew there had to be a reason behind that young man's behaviour and now we know what it is. He's simply after your father's money, Alys.'

‘That's a ridiculous thing to say!' Alys retorted. ‘Please, Daddy, it isn't like that at all! It was my idea, not Race's.'

‘And I suppose it was your idea that he came here in the first place.' Frances' lips were tight, her eyes cold.

‘No, of course not. I didn't meet him until the party. He was a guest of Louis' …'

‘Hardly!'

‘He was! He said …'

‘It's true he knew Louis vaguely but he would never have been invited if he hadn't pestered Louis and wormed his way in. It's true, Alys, whether you like it or not. Tell her, Beverley.'

Bev had come out of her dream world. She bit her lip uncomfortably.

‘What I say is true, isn't it?' Frances persisted. Bev nodded slowly. ‘You see?' Frances trumpeted. ‘The boy is nothing but a scrounger.

And now we've found out what he's after. Money to indulge his hobby.'

‘You've got it all wrong!' Alys protested. ‘He's not playing at it. He is a really good driver.'

‘If he is, no doubt he will find someone else willing to put their money behind him, but after the way he has tried to take advantage of you, it certainly won't be us.' Frances said coldly. ‘Now, let's close this unpalatable subject and enjoy our meal, shall we?'

‘Daddy …?' Alys appealed.

But Daniel only helped himself to more potatoes.

‘It sounds to me as though your mother has a point,' he said, and Alys realized it would be useless to argue just now.

She scraped back her chair and got up. ‘I think you are all being jolly unfair!' she said, tears of anger stinging her eyes. But even then she did not dare to voice the thought that was edging in at the corners of her mind.

In the world of business Daniel might be a driving force and an influence to be reckoned with. Here at home he was as much in the sway of the redoubtable Frances as everyone else.

Alys, terrified Race might call at her father's office next day and walk straight into a frosty reception, managed to put a call through to him at the garage.

‘I'm really sorry. I've put my foot in it now and spoiled everything,' she explained.

For the first time ever Race snapped at her.

‘Why didn't you do what I said and leave it to me?'

She glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot.

‘I was afraid you wouldn't ask, and I thought that Daddy …'

‘I know. You thought you could wind him around your little finger like you do everyone else.' He sighed. ‘Ah well, it's too late to worry about it now. I've got the afternoon free. Shall we go out somewhere?'

Alys thought briefly of her mother's freezing disapproval, weighed it against the pleasure of being with Race, and made up her mind.

‘I'd love to. Will you pick me up?'

‘Yes. About half past two.'

‘All right. I'll be looking out for you so that you don't have to face Mummy.'

It was a perfect afternoon with a brisk breeze blowing puffs of white cloud across the sky, blue as morning glories, and whipping up matching white frills on the sea. In St George's Road the English trees provided patches of shade but the sun shone bright and harsh on the houses, bouncing off roofs and stuccoed white walls with a brilliance that was hurtful to the eyes.

‘Where are we going?' Alys asked as Race turned the Morgan down over the hill and the vista of Melbourne, roofs and spires, patches of green amid the grey, spread out beneath them.

He executed a racing change. ‘I had thought of Phillip Island – to see the fairy penguins and the seals.'

‘Oh yes, they're sweet …' she broke off. ‘Wait a minute – you're the crafty one, aren't you? The penguins don't parade until dusk, on their way back to their burrows in the sand dunes after a hard day's fishing. That's just an excuse. You want to go to Phillip Island because of the race track!'

He laughed. ‘No, honestly, I hadn't given it a thought. Though I have to admit it's because of the race track that I know about Phillip Island. People from my background don't have as much time to go out looking at wild life as you do.'

There was a tiny, awkward silence. It was the first time he had mentioned the difference in their lifestyles.

‘On the other hand,' Race said, ‘we could just go up to the Dandenongs. But wherever it is, we'd better make the most of it. This could be the last time for outings in the Morgan.' She turned to look at him in alarm and he gave an elaborate shrug. ‘It's the one asset I've got. If I can't get the money from anywhere else, I shall have to sell the Morgan.'

‘Oh Race, you can't do that!' she protested.

‘Don't make it harder for me. I don't want to, of course. But I'm damned determined to get into Grand Prix racing and if the only way I can do it is to sell the Morgan, then the Morgan has to go.'

His tone frightened her. Yes, she had known he was determined but never before had he struck her as ruthless. If he could get rid of the Morgan which he loved so much then he would sweep aside any obstacle which he found in his way. Admirable, but also a little scary.

‘Anyway, let's not talk about it now. Why spoil a lovely afternoon? And let's make it the Dandenongs, shall we?' he said.

They left Melbourne, heading east and with the wind in her hair Alys felt herself relaxing. The country, open and green, not yet scorched to match the colour of the sandy earth, quickly became rolling hills fringed with forests. Race turned the Morgan into a narrow track where the sun, filtering through the high and spidery branches of the trees, made sparkling patterns of heat on the dusty ground. On and on it went, winding now and then around a knoll of higher ground, rising and dipping, then suddenly opening out to reveal a reserve where the bush, virgin in appearance, surrounded a small clear water lake. Race pulled the Morgan off the track onto a patch of scrub and turned off the engine.

‘Who wants to go all the way to Phillip Island when it's nice so close to home?' He put his arm around her, his touch light on her warm skin. ‘Anyway, it's you I want to see, not a penguin, fairy or otherwise.'

Warmth trickled through her veins, but she smiled at him teasingly, pulled away and clambered nimbly over the side of the Morgan.

‘Come on, I'm going to paddle!'

The brush grew thickly around the lake, covering the shingly soil. She ran through it feeling it tug at her skirt and whip her bare legs and not caring. At the water's edge she kicked off her sandals and plunged in, wading out until it reached her knees and though she bunched up her skirt with her hands the hem hung down into the water at the back. Beneath her feet she felt the pebble floor of the lake and she wiggled her toes against the shifting surface, laughing and looking around for Race who was running through the bush after her.

‘Come on in!' she called. ‘It's lovely!'

He was wearing shorts and he paused only to kick off his shoes before plunging into the water.

‘Come on!' she urged, then as he splashed towards her, she backed away again.

‘Look out!' he warned.

‘Why?' She was still laughing as her foot touched the edge of a trough where the bed of the lake fell away in a deep shelf. The loose pebbles crumbled beneath her and she went under, water flooding into her mouth, wide open with surprise, and billowing her skirt up around her. A moment later, she surfaced, gasping and coughing.

‘Are you all right?' Race was swimming towards her.

She trod water unable to speak for a moment then as she got her breath she swam a couple of strokes, back onto the shelf and stood up. Her dress clung to every curve and hollow of her body and water streamed out of her hair and ran in rivulets down her back. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.

‘Oh jeepers, what a shock!'

Race was beside her, half concerned, half amused.

‘I thought you said you were going for a paddle, not a swim!'

‘Beast! How can you joke …!' She hit out at him and almost lost her balance again. He caught her by the arms and pulled her towards him.

‘What are you trying to do – drown us?'

‘No – I'm …' But his lips were too close and she broke off. His arms slid around her, holding her there, then as their bodies touched with nothing but the thin clinging wet layers between she felt a tremble run through the length of him and an answering thrill echoed deep within her own body. She stood quite still while he kissed her, his lips warm after the coldness of the lake water, though the sensations she was experiencing made her want to cling to him as closely as the sodden clothing. His hands moved from her back, tracing the curve of hips and thighs as a blind man might and everywhere his hands touched came to tingling, singing life. Her lips responded first, moving beneath his and parting slightly, then her hands, tracing the lines of his back which felt clean and hard beneath the wet cotton. Their hands reached hip level simultaneously and he pressed her to him. The sizzling desire exploded then and she melted, the softness of her body moulding to the hard strength of his.

Their lips became hungrier now, kissing not only each other's mouths but any bit of flesh they could find and Alys felt the breath catching in her throat as the water had done a few minutes ago. Half panicking, she twisted her head and her breath came out with a sobbing sigh.

Without speaking Race bent to slip his arm beneath her knees and scoop her up. Her arms went around his neck and for a moment he stood quite still, kissing her again before wading towards the shore with her. On the bank he lowered her gently to the ground, sinking down beside her.

Beneath the pressure of his lips and body she lay slowly back into the scratchy bush. It gave to admit them then closed around them once more. It seemed that already they were not two but one, glued together by their soaking clothes.

‘Oh Alys!' It sounded like a moan of pain, and strangely it injected a note of harsh reality.

‘Race – no, we mustn't! Stop it, please …'

‘Just a little, Alys. I won't hurt you. It'll be all right …'

‘No! Mummy would kill me if she knew …'

He rolled away from her a little though their heads were still close.

‘I don't suppose they'd let us get engaged, would they?' he said.

‘Umm?' She had heard what he said, but thought she must have imagined it.

‘Engaged – married. Do you think they'd let us? Oh, I want you, Alys!'

She could not answer. He wanted to marry her. She had ruined everything, spoiled his chances of Daddy backing him and still he wanted to marry her. She felt herself melting, relaxing beneath him and even when the pain came, so sharp that it made her tense and arch her body and dig into his back with her nails, she did not care. She loved Race, loved him, loved him – and he loved her. He must do!

Afterwards she lay with her eyes half closed looking at the clear blue sky above the gently waving tracery of brush. The pain still throbbed between her legs, dulled now to a burning sensation. Race lay beside her but not touching her and a tiny finger of fear pierced her through. She turned her head so that she could see him.

‘Race, did you mean what you said about us getting married?'

He did not answer. ‘Race?' she said again.

He shifted a little impatiently.

‘Of course I want you, Alys. And getting engaged seemed the only way, But …'

She stiffened. ‘But what?'

‘It's not that easy, is it? This is real life, not a fairy story. To begin with I don't suppose your parents would agree to it.'

She rolled towards him, frightened suddenly and wanting the comfort of his nearness.

‘I don't care what they say! Oh, they would probably disown me, it's true. They already said as much, because they've got this terrible idea that you are only using me to get at Daddy's money. But they can't keep us apart if we love each other.'

‘Christ, Alys, if they cut you off what the hell do you think we would live on? I can't keep myself, let alone a wife.'

‘I'd live anywhere with you, Race, I'd do anything …'

He broke away from her, sitting up abruptly.

‘You don't know what you're talking about Alys. You've always had everything you wanted. You haven't got a clue what it's like to have nothing.'

‘Race!' She sat up too. ‘Don't you understand? I've had money and possessions all my life and none of them has made me half as happy as I am with you. The way we feel is something money can't buy.'

He reached for a blade of springy grass, snapping it between his fingers and staring straight ahead of him.

‘Race, you do feel the same way I do, don't you?' she said. A light breeze whispered through the brush and as it touched her wet back she shivered. ‘You do love me, don't you?'