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have a man about the place. Ask Jim if you're in doubt about anything,
and if you want to get in touch with me you, can do so through the
exchange at the Creek. Is that clear, Virginia ?"
"Quite clear." Ginny was numb at the sudden dire turn of events.
"Right then. I'll go and collect the equipment and then get the men.
Goodbye, Rosa - I'll see you when you come up for Mona, or was it
your intention that Virginia should take her to Sydney ?"
Rosana smiled engagingly.
"Of course not, Jas. I'll come here, darling. I thought Virginia could go
when I arrive, and we would have a few days together, just you and
Mona and me."
He nodded abstractedly.
"We can discuss it nearer the time." He sketched a brief salute of
farewell and disappeared into the darkness.
Ginny and Rosana were at the air-strip by ten o'clock next morning,
and shortly afterwards the small plane she had chartered came winging
down, droning in the hot, still air.
Ginny was thanked quite formally for drivingRosana over, and with an
equally formal injunction to attend to her daughter's needs until she
returned, Jas Lawrence's beautiful sister-in-law climbed gracefully up
the steps the pilot had placed for her use, waved briefly, and was gone.
With her went much of Ginny's tenseness. Rosana had been fretful and
unhelpful that morning, and Sparky had been taken to task for not
having ironed some of the visitor's clothing, although she had not been
notified of Rosana's proposed departure. Rosana blamed Virginia for
this oversight, having first made sure that she extracted appropriately
abject apologies from the housekeeper for being so remiss.
By the time Ginny returned, Sparky had put the incident behind her.
There were other more important things to think about than a
mettlesome display of temper by the fiery Mrs. Lawrence.
The day passed, curiously unreal. The two women tried to keep up an
appearance of normality, but both were aware that they were waiting
for something - what, they didn't quite know. The house was so still, it
was. like floating around in an echoing well of silence, and even
Mona's lessons were conducted in hushed voices., Ginny laughed at
herself each time they descended to whispers, but it was no use.
Every now and then she and Sparky would stand at the back door and
watch the western sky. The ominous red glow had increased in density
each time they locked.
Sparky pressed her lips together.
"It may be all right, if the wind doesn't get up, and it stays on the flat
the other side of the mountain. A fire's a terrible thing to hold in hilly
country, though, and with the wind behind it, it can be almost
impossible. It must have a wide front to look like that just now."
They went indoors again.
All three ate a salad lunch in the kitchen. Jim did not turn up, but
Sparky, who had experienced such emergencies before, seemed
unperturbed by his non-appearance.
Afterwards, Ginny took Mona for a swim to their favourite pool,
where they spent most of the afternoon. By now they could smell the
smoke in the air, and Ginny's mind was tormented with thoughts of
Jas. Where was he, she wondered, and what was he doing at this very
minute? It was better not to think too much about it, but returning to
the house with the pungent, smoky air beginning to dry their throats,
they were both depressed and quiet. Even little Mona was beginning to
reveal a sense of strain.
Ginny played Chinese chequers with her until it Was time for the child
to go to bed. Then she wandered resdessly about the house, and finally
sat down by the radiogram in the sitting-room, where she made an
aimless selection of several records to which she found she could
hardly listen. It was no use. She went to her room, and in a short time
her light was out.
It must have been the unfamiliar noise that wakened Ginny. She stirred
to a sound she hadn't heard for some time now. It was the silky rustling
of the silver poplar beyond the sleepout, as the wind tickled its leaves.
Barefoot she emerged on to the sleepout, taking care not to arouse
Mona, who was still sleeping soundly beneath her mosquito-net.
Ginny leaned on the railing, feeling the stiff slap of the breeze in her
face. It was almost morning. The grey light was. there in the east, but it
was an anaemic flush compared with the angry redness of the western
horizon. Ginny could almost have sworn she saw the occasional leap
of tongues of flame skyward. Cinders were being carried to her on the
wind. She could flick them off her pyjamas where she stood.
She went back to bed and lay there, tense and wakeful, until it was
time to get up. '
Jim Sparks was in the kitchen, talking to his wife, when Ginny arrived.
"It ain't so good this morning." He shook his head doubtfully. "This
brute of a wind! Why the flamin' thing had to start up just now beats
me. They'll never hold it. The boss'll be mad as blazes. This wind'll
take it right on to his trees."
Ginny shivered. She thought of the long, patient years of ministration
and care that went on while one waited for those trees to reach
maturity.
By mid-morning great plumes of smoke poured over the horizon
above them. It came in gushing waves each time the fire devoured new
stretches of long, dry grass in its headlong rush before the wind, which
blew it on to the house in suffocating clouds.
Out of the smoke came Jas Lawrence. He leapt out of the Land-Rover
almost as he brought it to a halt, cleared the back fence in a single
spring without bothering to go around by the gate, and strode over the
lawn and into the kitchen. Mona, Sparky, and Ginny were all there,
watching wordlessly as he entered.
Jas's eyes were red-rimmed, his usually black, crisp hair almost grey
with ash. His shirt hung in tatters on his large frame. Where it hadn't [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]