CHAPTER FIVE

To Jon, the new house was so wonderful, the cellar so scary, the grounds, just before dusk, so secret and mysterious, he had to share his elation with someone. This was his greatest adventure since his infancy. With just a week more left of school, he couldn't wait to have the whole parkland and the big house to himself. Of course Stevie was there to look after him and quell his vivid imagination, but his father, who was the most wonderful father one could ever hope for, had to be away for a few weeks on an important case. At least Rachael was left. She knew exactly what kids liked to do and she had given him the most marvellous Chinese kite with dozens of ribbons on the tail.

Rachael, he knew, had spent her own childhood at Swans' Reach, fishing the river and climbing the great shade trees and investigating the clammy, dimly-lit cellar with its glinting bottle bins and the old hand grape press, the vats and the hogsheads and the hooks on the ceiling for the great sides of bacon and the hams they had in the old days long before they had the big freezer in the kitchen. A convict could very well have been interred in those massive stone walls. Probably convict labour had been used to build the house. Why, a convict had even carved the red cedar stairway that glowed so richly and felt so good to the hand. Rachael had told him that. How later the convict was granted a pardon and made a killing on the goldfields, setting himself up as a pastoralist only to be killed a year later by a bushranger. It wasn't as if he had done anything very bad in the first place, only stolen some food for his starving mother and sisters. Jon, who had never gone hungry in his life, understood this perfectly.

Rachael told him lots of stories about the early days of the colony. She was better than a storybook and she knew every nook and cranny of the house and the secret drawer in the writing desk. Rachael and Jon had become very friendly almost at once. The friendship was noted and approved of by his father. Rachael was the person Jon most cared for, next to his father. Of course he could never tell anyone that. He was very loyal to Stevie, who looked after him so well, but she simply wasn't Rachael, who was going to teach him to ride a horse, and speak to his father about getting a pony. Rachael had had a pony at his age. So for Jon, each day was shining and full of excitements. If he skinned his knees a lot and Stevie scolded him, Rachael was always there to support him.

Nothing could have been nicer than to have her living near their house. He was welcome at the Lodge as well. Lady Ross, with her pink and white skin, and her piled-up white hair and her immaculate, perfumed dresses, he went a little in awe of. Not that she wasn't always very nice to him, but she was a Person and had to be treated as such.

The other lady, Allie, was quite different—kind of funny, but nice, trying to be friends. For the first time in his life Jon felt truly sheltered. Settled. When his mother had died (he couldn't remember) his father had sold their home and moved to a town house. Now he had bought Swans' Reach for Jon. It was the place to do the most marvellous things; to sing and to shout, to lie on the grass and look up at the sky, or climb to the highest fork of the magnificent old gum. If he got a good end-of-term report, his father had promised to buy him a fishing rod. Well, the fishing rod was his. He was the smartest kid in the class. Mr Tennant told him he was certain to be promoted, but he wouldn't commit himself further even when Jon told him the story of the fishing rod. Still, he was certain he would get it. If it was possible, he felt closer to his father here than ever before. Sometimes he even felt like bursting with happiness. His father would be home in three days. This afternoon, after school, he would go down to tie Lodge and give Rachael the latest bulletin. She was always so interested.

Perhaps Allie would have some of that chocolate cake of hers with the hazelnuts on the top. She knew he loved it. Lady Ross would ask him so sweetly and. seriously how he was progressing at school and listen very intently for his answer. He would be able to tell her his work was 'highly satisfactory'. He couldn't tell her that he was the fastest runner and the best at cricket; that would sound too much like boasting. Everyone liked him at the Lodge.

When the telephone rang, Rachael went to answer it, leaving Jon wide-eyed with growing wonder at some story of Allie's girlhood. Even the chocolate cake was momentarily abandoned while Jon waited, apparently desperate to hear more. Allie found it very gratifying and consequently dragged out the suspense, one hand resting on Jon's shoulder.

It was almost like encountering a spear, the voice at the other end of the line was so piercing.

'Rachael? '

Rachael held the phone away from her sensitive ear. 'How are you, Maggie? '

'Fine, thank you, dear! I won't bother dear old Lib again, but just tell her I'm not having that little ceremony back at the house after the ballet. '

'I'll do that, Maggie. Gran's asleep now, gathering her strength for the big evening. '

'I'm very glad. I can't sleep in the afternoons myself. She does so love the ballet. The little Aldous is exquisite. Surely that's a child's laughter I hear? '

'Young Jon. He's having afternoon tea in the kitchen with Allie. '

'Really? What kind of a story is she telling him? They're making a lot of noise. '

'A suitable one, Maggie. Fit for the ears of young children. '

'Nice little boy? '

'The very nicest. Bursting with life but with beautiful manners. '

'And soon to have a new mummy, I hear. '

Rachael almost recoiled, something inside her shattering irreparably. 'I'm not very bright, Maggie, are you talking about Mrs Maybury? '

'Nick Retford's in Adelaide, isn't he? '

'I believe so. '

'So's Mrs Maybury. A friend of mine saw them together. Next thing it will be wedding bells. You could even be invited. '

'Is your friend very reliable? ' Rachael asked rather baldly.

Maggie sounded shocked. 'My dearest child, I wouldn't admit this to anyone else, but she fills me with envy. She knows everything! '

'Perhaps you should consider joining forces. '

'What does that mean? ' Maggie asked, sounding bewildered.

'Nothing, Maggie. '

'Ah well, it would be very pleasant indeed to have a man like that chasing one. ' Maggie paused for the answering laugh to her comment, but none was forthcoming. 'Listen, dear, ' she said very kindly, for she was kind, 'why don't you come with us this evening? A couple of oldies, I know, but never dull. No, on second thoughts perhaps you'd better not. They won't let you in. The theatre's booked out. Still, I could mastermind something. The MacAdam name should count for something. Eric would have won the Nobel prize had he lived. '

'It's all right, Maggie, I'm happy at home, ' Rachael assured her.

'Extraordinary! I would never have stayed home at your age. '

'I can believe it! No offence meant, Maggie. '

'None taken, darling. I know I'm wonderful. People have said to me all my life: " You're marvellous! " Why, I've more life in me at seventy-eight than most women half my age. '

'Agreed. It must be bubbles in the blood or something. '

'If only I were forty years younger, I'd give that Vanessa Maybury a run for her money, ' Maggie mused. 'Never taken to her myself. She's very handsome, I know, but she looks all sealed off in Cellophane. '

'On the other hand, she got to Adelaide, ' Rachael pointed out.

'Do you blame her? '

'I'm happy to say, no. '

'You don't sound happy, darling. Settling down all right? '

'Pretty well, Maggie, considering. I don't know about Gran. She never complains about anything. '

'Now Lib I love! ' Maggie cried thrillingly. 'She's a marvel! We're almost like sisters. When we were young we were the prettiest girls in this town. Talk about bombshells! Incidentally, how do you like my new bob? Isn't a fringe silly at my age? '

'On you it's just right! '

'Thank you, darling. How's that boy-friend of yours going? '

'Which one? ' asked Rachael.

'Naughty! The Vickers boy. '

'We're really just good friends. '

'Now that takes me by surprise. His mother thinks you'll be getting married in a year or so. '

'A normal mother's reaction. '

'Well, dearest, I have to bathe. Tell Lib about seven-fifteen this evening. That will give us plenty of time to park. '

'But, Maggie, ' Rachael said, looking more than ever harried, 'are you driving yourself? '

'Of course, dear. Don't infuriate me. I've an excellent record. 'Bye, now! '

'But ‑ ' began Rachael, too late, for Maggie had gone. Not that a protest would have done any good, and Gran just laughed at Rachael's lack of trust in Maggie's driving ability when there was no actual proof to the contrary.

So what do I do now? she thought. Maggie's news had made her feel quite peculiar, drained of all sense of expectancy or pleasure. But why? After all, they had all expected it sooner or later. Nick Retford was to marry Vanessa Maybury, a woman near his own age and very suitable from every standpoint. One would expect it, so why had she received the news as a catastrophe? Some deep disturbance was within her, and no amount of reasoning was going to lessen the pain. A few minutes ago, pouring coffee for herself and Allie and a glass of lemonade for Jon, she had known real pleasure, a sense that everything was gelling easier. Now the constriction round her heart was threatening to make her faint. She walked back into the kitchen and Allie looked up expectantly, her pleasant expression changing to a worried frown.

'You look very pale, Rachael. Is anything wrong? '

'Perhaps I'm hungry! ' she said, thinking she would never be able to manage a bite again.

Allie immediately sliced off a section of chocolate cake. 'Who was it? ' she asked, closely observing Rachael's face.

'Only Maggie. Another message for Gran. Honestly, whenever they go out, it takes at least four phone calls. Thanks, Allie. ' Absentmindedly Rachael took the laden plate from Allie. 'They're not going back to Maggie's place after the theatre. '

'And a jolly good thing! ' Allie said heartily. 'I never thought much of the idea in the first place. '

'Are you going too, Rachael? ' Jon asked, looking up at her with familiar radiant blue eyes, his father's exactly.

'No, I'm going to have my party here. '

'I wish I could come, ' he said wistfully.

Rachael was surprised to find her hands trembling. She put a piece of cake in her mouth and found if tasted like dust. 'I'm fooling, darling, ' she tried to speak lightly. 'I'm just going to have a quiet evening at home. When I do have a party, I'll invite you. It would have to be in the daytime. It's my birthday next month. '

'How old will you be? '

'Twenty-one, ' she said, ruffling his coal-black curls.

'Gosh! I'll tell Dad. We'll have to be thinking about a present. '

'Now, Jon, I refuse to let you pass on that report. It's just between the two of us. '

'And how's that? ' Allie inquired satirically. 'People usually celebrate, not go into hiding. '

'Oh well, I do have some pocket money, ' said Jon, anxiously lost in thought.

'Which you will keep! I wouldn't think of asking you if you're going to worry about buying me a present. '

'What else did Maggie say? ' Allie persisted, her glance very keen and inquisitive. Before the phone call, Rachael had been her lively and very delightful self, laughing and joking with Jon, now she looked almost grief-stricken. 'Well? '

'Nothing much, Allie, ' Rachael parried. 'Maggie's driving. '

Abruptly Allie pushed the cake plate away. 'One thing about Maggie, she's never dull. I was counting on someone else driving them. '

'Well, we'd better hold our peace with Gran, ' Rachael said dispiritedly. 'She doesn't like to be fussed over and she's very forbearing with Maggie's driving ability. Strangely enough, Maggie's never had any trouble. '

'No, it's her long-suffering passengers that have that! '

Jon looked from one to the other, distressed by the abrupt change of mood. Rachael's lovely laughing face had lost every scrap of colour, while Allie's had little angry patches of red on her round apple cheeks. 'Dad's coming home in three days! ' he announced, seeking to bolster the atmosphere.

'So that's why you're so excited? ' Allie turned back to smile at him. 'Another piece of cake? '

'Oh yes, please, Allie. It's delicious. I love all those crushed nuts over the side. I've been giddy with hunger all day. '

'Now why is that? ' Allie demanded. 'Mrs Stevenson looks very conscientious to me. '

'Oh, I swopped my lunch for a pencil case. '

'I wouldn't advise too much of that, young man, ' Allie said, chiding but kindly. 'A growing boy needs to eat his lunch. '

'It was just this particular pencil case, Allie. It came from Rotorua. Higgy thought it a fair swop. '

'Who's Higgy, might I ask? '

'He's my best friend—Philip Higgenson. We all call him Higgy. '

'How interesting. He sounds like an individual. I bet he's got freckles. '

'Yes, he's all brown with them. I'm going to invite him out one week-end. '

'Then we'll meet him? '

'Oh yes! ' Jon smiled his thanks at Allie, all the while asking himself what had happened to Rachael. She was gazing into the depths of her coffee cup as if it were a crystal ball and the picture gloomy. 'Are you worried about something, Rachael? ' he asked all of a sudden.

'Yes, Rachael, are you worried about something? ' Allie chimed in.

'As a matter of fact, I am, ' said Rachael, belatedly raising her head. 'But I can't think why. One of those unreasonable things! Now, young Jon, shall we go out and feed the swans? '

'You don't have to if you don't want to, Rachael, ' he said kindly.

'But I want to! ' she jumped up from the table. 'I've been looking forward to your company all day. '

'Oh, beaut! ' It was all Jon could do not to spring about the kitchen, in the mood now for any amount of physical effort, an energetic active child, basking in the easy friendship that was offered to him.

'Let's go seek the sun! ' Rachael said, holding out her hand.

'I'll speak to you later, young lady, ' Allie firmly maintained, anxious to clear up the matter of Rachael's sudden pallor.

Outside in the fragrant sunshine, Jon turned up his high-spirited face. 'Do you suppose Dad would get me a dog? '

'I don't see why not, ' Rachael reassured him. 'We had a beautiful dog, Glory, a collie, sable and white like Lassie. She was fourteen when she died, and I cried for a long time. My grandfather bought her for my fifth birthday, so you can imagine how I loved her. She had a pedigree this long, though I never did show her. '

Jon considered, his blue eyes narrowed against the silver glitter of the river. 'I think I'd like a collie, too. '

'What about a golden Labrador? ' Rachael suggested, still missing her lovely Glory. 'They love the water. Or an English setter. They're very intelligent and friendly. '

'Or a bulldog or a boxer? They could guard the gate. '

'Or maybe a silly, aristocratic Afghan. An Afghan would love bounding about this place, and you wouldn't have to worry about the traffic. Afghans have no road sense at all, but they're a beautiful breed. '

'Let's ask Dad! ' said Jon, scarcely able to contain his excitement. 'He asked about you in his letter. '

'Really? What did he say? '

'Oh, the usual things. How were you and what we were doing and a bit about the kite, and he ended off saying, remember me to the rose at the front gate. '

'And how did you know he meant me? '

'Well, actually, Rachael, ' Jon explained seriously, 'I was the one that thought of that. You've got rose-coloured hair. '

Rachael expelled a long breathy laughing. 'You're going to be very popular when you grow up! '

Jon looked up into her face, relieved to see the dazzling topaz glance was smiling once more. 'Do you want to see what I learned at gym today? '

She nodded her head, humouring him. 'Go right ahead, but please, don't break any bones. '

'I'll show you, ' Jon said confidently, at this point beginning to tumble head over heels down the lawn. After a while, Rachael felt she had to tell him to stop.

'Jon! '

He bounded up, breathless, scarlet in the face, but extremely happy. 'Yes? ' he asked.

'Don't tire yourself out. '

'Tumbling doesn't make any difference to me. Some of the kids nearly kill themselves trying to get over the horse, and to tell you the truth, it's no harder than tumbling. '

'I can see you're a natural. And how is your father? ' she asked guardedly.

'Oh well, Dad's never sick. He hasn't got the time. I can't wait until he gets home 1' Jon stared up into her face as though she too was certain to share his sentiments. It was extremely odd, but she did, her amber eyes flashing. How perverse human nature was! There was a time when she had thought she hated him; now this startling, wounding change of heart.

'When I grow up, I'm going to have a splendid career just like Dad! ' Jon was announcing.

'As it happens I believe you, ' smiled Rachael.

'Sure? '

'Yes. '

Jon blushed and almost immediately began to somersault again, overcome by this moment of mutual affection. He was the luckiest boy in the world. The summer holidays were coming up and he had never felt in such harmony with his world and the people in it. The wind was singing its beautiful shivery song through the leaves, each one of them glittering in the pellucid brilliance of the late afternoon sunlight. Swans' Reach had a special magic. It had settled his mind, overtaking him with a powerful sense of belonging.

'I love this place, Rachael! ' he said, coming to a drastic halt and running back to join her. 'I feel as if I've been here for ever. It's not quite real. '

'A dream, ' she said rather, sadly, smiling down at him. 'I'm glad you're happy here, Jon. It makes it all worth while. Swans' Reach possesses a special magic for the chosen few. Look, all the birds are gathering on the water. They feed on the seeding of the reeds. '

'Aren't the swans graceful? They're like yachts. It's amazing how awkward they are out of the water. '

'We've each of us a special role to play, ' Rachael explained. 'For the swans, it's best for them to stay on the water. The land really isn't their territory. It's their job to look beautiful and immortal. '

'Mystical, is that the word? '

She smiled and they walked quietly together, approaching the birds. For all her efforts not to upset a small boy, Rachael felt a deep restraint upon her as though the idea of Nick's marrying Vanessa Maybury was a life-or-death decision, all her own little inexplicable yearnings crumpling like so much tissue paper. Her depression was deepening irresistibly. She would ring Brett, she told herself fiercely, running a hand over her wind-tossed hair, wishing and wishing again she had never laid eyes on Nick Retford. She had known from the very first moment that he would change her life enormously.

Jon broke the little silence. 'Why, Rachael, you look as if you're going to cry! '

His perception didn't startle her—she had become used to it in his father. She blinked rapidly, anxious not to bewilder him. 'It's the swans, ' she said, her lovely mouth curving. 'It's funny, but beautiful things often make me want to cry. '

'Yes, I know. ' The kindness and affection in his clear young voice made him her friend for ever.

'What a nice little boy you are, Jon. I love you already! Now what do you think you'd like for Christmas? We'd better start planning. '

Jon's eyebrows shot up, his blue eyes lingering on her face. 'It's going to be the best Christmas ever! '

'I hope so, Jon, ' Rachael said with no answering sense of hope or pleasure. Deep inside her as she looked down at his handsome little face her most complex feelings were intensifying. The blood roared in her ears, as she was confronted by the naked truth. She was in love with Nick Retford—the one thing she had never dreamed of. The bitter irony of fate! Now when she couldn't help herself, she was deeply involved. It was even possible that she wouldn't recover herself in a whole lifetime. It was a tremendous thing, this great rush of truth, and all her youth and feeling of bitter betrayal lurked in her eyes. Loving Nick Retford was like reaching for the moon. He was just as magnetic and just as much out of reach. Only one name dominated that other world. Vanessa Maybury.

The first evening Nick returned home, he called in briefly at the Lodge. Allie welcomed him and took him through to the drawing-room where Lady Ross and her good friend Jacob were arguing amiably over a point in cards. The card table was already set up for an evening of bridge with Allie and Maggie MacAdam, a tournament class player, to make up the numbers. Maggie as yet hadn't arrived after a day of civic duties, so the rest of them were passing the time over a few hands of poker with Jacob holding his hands over his eyes and saying wryly that he was getting old and feeble. In any case, it was always a bit difficult to beat Allie who had the right, immovable face for the game, whatever her hand.

Both of them looked up expectantly, with no doubt in their minds that it was Maggie, although she had entered with uncharacteristic quietness. If not, it could only be young Brett, who was taking Rachael out for the third evening in a row—a state of affairs Lady Ross was beginning to take exception to. For some reason Rachael was whipping herself up into a storm, super-energetic like young Jon, but so brittle and bright, something had to be wrong. If she didn't soon say what it was, her grandmother intended to tackle her about it. Rachael had to be helped, but it was difficult with the young; the more urgent the matter, the more inclined they were to bottle things up.

When Nick came into the room, they greeted him with obvious pleasure. Jacob stood up, his shrewd, mild eyes beaming, his hand extended.

'Why, hello there! What a surprise,, though I didn't expect the verdict to be any different. '

'It was rather a difficult job to do all the same. How are you? ' The two men shook hands and Lady Ross looked up at them, smiling.

'We're all so pleased to see you home safely again. Young Jon especially. You mean everything to him! '

There was something compellingly reassuring about his presence, the light, firm clasp of his hand. He really looked at one and acted as if he cared. Lady Ross found it immensely comforting to be engulfed by his penetrating blue gaze, admiringly and truly interested in her well-being.

'Thank you, Lady Ross. ' He smiled at her, his bluer-than-blue eyes quite vivid against his tanned skin. 'I've just been up to the house. Jon's plastered me with requests. Ponies and puppies and so forth. I suspect Rachael is at the back of it! '

'From your smile I gather you think it might be a good idea. '

'Why, yes. There are a few gaps in his life I'm determined to start filling up. Thank you for being so kind to him while I've been away. He wrote a letter to me telling me all about it. Quite a good letter really. '

'I'm not surprised. He's a fine boy. You must be very proud of him. '

'I am. An area of great happiness in a sometimes lunatic world. '

Jacob silently nodded his agreement, studying the other man and considering him an excellent prospect for some lucky woman. Mrs Maybury was all the rage. A pity! though she was rather splendid. Nick cast his glance down at the card table and came to a swift decision: 'I won't keep you from your game. I just called in to see how you were and to let you know I'm back again. I'm glad Jon wasn't too much of a nuisance. He gets very intense where his affections are involved, and I gather he's bestowed them on Rachael in an amazingly short time. '

'Yes, really something special! ' Lady Ross agreed happily. 'They're good friends. Rachael should be down in a moment. She and Brett—Brett Vickers, you know—are going out again. Three evenings in a row. I hope it's not going to start an epidemic. Even young people need their rest. I swear Rachael's lost weight, but it's against the rules to protest too much. Won't you sit down, Nick? '

He shook his dark head regretfully. 'No, really, I'll call again if I may. I've still a work load to catch up on. '

'Ah, here's Rachael now! ' Lady Ross said, glancing over his shoulder, her face wearing the special soft light she reserved for her granddaughter.

Rachael, arriving down the stairs, found a different audience from the one she was expecting. Hearing the murmur of voices, she had thought it was Maggie or Brett or both. Nick Retford was the last person she expected to see. Just the sight of him seemed to flay all the skin off her, her frail peace destroyed in an instant.

'Why, Nick, you're home again! ' She threw up her head defensively, looking very mettlesome.

'Aren't you going to say you're pleased? ' He walked towards her taking her outstretched hand, his blue appraising glance leaping over her, missing nothing. 'Your grandmother's right—you have lost weight. '

'There, what did I tell you! ' Allie crowed. 'All this rushing about is bad for you. '

Nick seemed to be watching her with uncanny concentration, and the warm colour over her cheekbones deepened. The door chimes pealed again, a wonderful piece of timing so far as Rachael was concerned, and Allie turned about and went to answer them. A few seconds later they heard Maggie's commanding voice followed by her very distinguished appearance, blue-grey hair, blue-grey eyes, tall and trim as a twenty-year-old, inexhaustible and always in great form.

'My darlings! ' She threw out her arms towards them all. 'Ah, Mr Retford! Introduce us, Libby, at once. Dear old Jacob! Rachael, how beautiful you are, child! ' She swept across the carpet, conferring honours everywhere, like a triumphant sovereign. The next few minutes were hectic, with no one daring or bothering to get over the top of Maggie, a true Leo, as forceful and as authoritative a woman as one could wish to meet, or alternatively avoid. Lady Ross, her dearest friend for sixty years, was always pleased to see her, and to a slightly lesser degree, Allie and Jacob, but Rachael couldn't relax. Maggie was being very cordial, the centre of attraction, enjoying herself enormously, thrilled to meet Nick Retford at last... 'People say you're wonderful! ' It would be such fun if he could join them... No? Ah well, there would be many more evenings. Maggie was never beaten.

Rachael found herself breathing fast. It was a kind of ordeal being so close to Nick, but it wouldn't be for long. Brett should arrive soon to rescue her. At that stage, Nick looked down at her, staring right into the depths of her eyes, trying to fathom just what made her tick. 'Why are you so nervous? ' he asked softly.

'N-nonsense! ' She stammered a little, which was both dangerous and damning.

'It's true. Are we back to square one? '

'You tell me. '

'Rachael, you've done it again! ' His white smile was terse.

Irresistibly her eyes clung to him, and that would be the snag. She would have to avoid him altogether to develop any kind of immunity. There Was a curious brilliant intimacy in his gaze. She couldn't for the life of her sustain it with Maggie looking on so avidly, though it was as well she had arrived, carrying all before her.

But for once that state of affairs was to be corrected. Somehow, as unobtrusively as possible, Maggie found herself being stage-managed. With all the courtesies observed, the bridge party found itself under way and Rachael herself out in the night air with Nick at her elbow waiting with her until such time as her escort would drive in through the front gates, a minute or so hence.

'You've been up to the house, of course? ' she was driven to polite conversation.

'Yes, I've seen Jon. ' His glance was half amused, half irritated as though her stilted manner annoyed him. Her breath caught and she turned away with a kind of urgency.

'No wonder you love him. '

'I'm trying to like you, Rachael! ' he pointed out rather crisply. 'Is there something I've done or omitted to do? '

'Don't be absurd! ' she said crossly.

'You're obviously disturbed about something. Frightened, maybe! '

'I don't have to defend myself, Nick. How was your trip to Adelaide? '

'It was in all the papers. '

'It's not the professional side I'm inquiring about. '

'Really? Do I have to answer for anything else? '

Used as she had become to Brett's earnest, adoring face, she found Nick too darkly, vividly masculine, a mature man prepared to put her well and truly in her place. It made no sense at all to court danger deliberately. She moved swiftly back into the pool of light, the lamp flashing out the ruby tints in her hair. The scent of the roses was almost unbearable. Life was full of heartbreak and there were worse things in store for her.

He looked at his watch, then glanced at her very coolly. 'That is a beautiful dress. '

'I just hope Brett likes it! ' she said, putting it a bit strongly. 'It's his favourite colour. '

'Which one? It seems to be a swirl of them. I don't know why you bother. He thinks you're perfect anyway. '

'I wish he would come! ' she said, trembling visibly. She was suffering and he was the cause of it. She could hit him!

'What's wrong with you? ' Abruptly his hands came up and covered her shoulders. 'Why this terrific build-up of tension? At the very least I expected just ordinary behaviour. '

'I can never, never be myself with you, Nick. '

'You mean you won't let yourself be! ' I thought we'd signed a cease-fire. The last time I saw you, you seemed utterly carefree, now you're back to the first hostility. In God's name, why? '

'There's no explaining reactions, Nick. Perhaps I don't know my own mind. '

'I've decided that. ' There was an odd little twist to his mouth and with shock she realised that he was jaded and moody and she was the cause of it. Her slender body was poised warily, the constraint tangible between them. Met on all sides by love from her childhood as she had been, this alien, sexual antagonism was too much for her. He thought badly of her—it was apparent in the sternness of his face. The night was beautiful nevertheless, the moon and the flowers, the white jasmine, making it difficult to be sensible. How unhappy she was! She was nearly shrinking inside.

'Oh, it's Brett! ' she stammered thankfully.

'You are pleased! ' he said very curtly indeed.

'Well, you're not in a gentle mood. Are you going to say hello? '

'I think I've exhausted my supply of goodwill. Thank you for watching over Jon. I appreciate that. '

'Please, Nick... ' she begged.

'Please, Nick, what? '

His skin in the light gleamed like dark copper, but his eyes had an icy sheen. Incredibly he was angry about something. She was acting strangely, she knew that, but he was the one with the split personality, wanting to charm every woman he met, his background paved with success. What had he expected? She couldn't go straight into his arms, which was what she desperately wanted, and was going to a great deal of trouble to conceal.

'I'm sorry if I've disappointed you in some way, ' she found herself saying.

His expression seemed to relent a little. 'Oh well, I should be used to it. You're obviously determined to sell your friendship dearly. '

'Why should you want it? '

He just shrugged, looking down at her intently, her creamy skin, the dark red mane of hair, her eyes brilliant in the lamplight. 'You're beautiful, Rachael, ' he said slowly. 'Frightfully spoilt, of course, but the most incredible part is you're still a child. It's as well I see you the way you really are. '

'And you think you're perfect? ' she demanded.

'Only in some things. Don't claw at me, little one, your friend Brett is looking quite anxious. I'm sure you don't want to dampen his evening. '

'Brett's friendship is very important to me, ' she said, almost tearfully. .

Nick's dark, disturbing voice was laced with self-mockery. 'Oh, why, oh, why did I start this conversation? Go along and enjoy yourself. I'm burning to get back to the house. Which reminds me, do you think Jon should have a pony and a puppy and anything else that occurs to you? '

'Indeed I do! I'd ask him first if he wants a stepmother, though! '

An iron grip locked her wrist. 'You can't skip that! What does it mean? '

'Sorry, Nick! ' She tried to shake free of him. 'Our time's up. Besides, I'm sure you've already thought of a name. '

'I hardly see that as your business. '

'Oh, go to the devil! ' she snapped, trying to get the last word.

He released her abruptly. 'Run, Rachael, but you're simply going to pay for that one. '

'All I want is for you to leave me alone! ' she said, lifting her eyes to him.

'As a matter of fact, I might prefer that myself. '

'Good. I'm delighted. I hope you live happily ever after. You will let me see Jon? '

'Such a pathetic plea. Why should I? '

'Because he's my friend. '

'You're going to have to do better than that, Rachael. '

'I care about him, ' she said as if she were at the end of her tether.

'That's fine. '

'I certainly don't care about you, ' she cried, her eyes flashing with all the old fire.

'No secret. Do you think your thoughts transparent?. Young Vickers is more your type. See what you can do about it. '

'You're furious, but I don't have to put up with it. '

'Whatever's in store for you, Rachael, you'll richly deserve. '

'Oh? It's a good thing it's not your mission in life. '

'It would give me some satisfaction, however. You believe you can't wait to get away from me. Why don't you go? '

Determinedly, as if to add new evidence to the totality of his disgust with her, Nick walked quickly away, lifting an acknowledging hand to the slightly baffled Brett. He swung into his car and was moving it up the drive within seconds. Rachael hesitated a moment, trying to shake his image from her. Good or bad, Nick was to haunt her. She felt faint with the pain of it, a look of strain on her face. She would have to go carefully with Nick. He wasn't the man to tolerate her all too evident complications, but they were easier than letting him discover she had fallen in love with him.

With a considerable effort she ran to Brett's car, trying to speak gaily. 'Hello there! You're late. '

Brett checked his watch. 'Maybe five minutes. The traffic was bad. Nick's back, I see. '

'Oh, don't let's talk about Nick Retford. He doesn't exist for us. ' She slid into the bucket seat, pushing her hair back, her eyes glittery, a high colour over her cheekbones.

'What is it? ' asked Brett in some consternation. 'You look as if you've got a fever. '

'Too much blusher. '

'That's your own colour. Feel all right? '

'Do I meet with your approval or not? '

Slanted amber eyes met his with a decided challenge, her gleaming red hair brushed back from her brow. She presented a very imperious picture, her slender throat rising from the deep V neckline of her dress. Brett stared at her, then began to laugh.

'Let's go. Immediately! '

'Sally and Dave coming? ' she asked.

'Yes, and a few others. I'm glad she dropped that Craig. He bored me to the point of tears. '

'He asked me out. '

'What did you say? ' queried Brett.

'I said you and I were practically engaged, old buddy. '

'You've no idea how much I want it. '

'Excuse me, don't talk engagements, ' she said hastily.

'No. Your twenty-first birthday would be a good time to make an announcement. '

'Are you deaf, Brett? ' Rachael demanded crossly.

'Well, I inhaled a good deal of night air waiting for you to come to the car. We both know Nick Retford disturbs you in some way. '

'And nothing to be done about it. Perhaps it will clear up when he's married. I hear it settles a man. '

'Who's he marrying? ' asked Brett.

'Vanessa Maybury. '

'Rugged! '

'I don't understand why you say that. She's a very good-looking woman and I understand she's quite witty and well connected and so forth. '

'To be sure. But they didn't look deeply involved to me. '

'I can't go into details, my friend, but I have it on excellent authority that they're to be married. '

'Ah well, these affairs lead to something! ' Brett turned to bestow on her his irrepressible smile. 'Even our childhood friendship can't remain static. Tonight I'm going to sweep you off your feet. I promise! '

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