Harlequin Vintage Walk in The Shadows Jayne Bauling

WALK IN THE SHADOWS
Jayne Bauling
Nicola's missionary streak had got her into hot water more than once, and never
more so than on the occasion when young Denise Graeme persuaded her to pretend t
o be having an affair with a married man, so that Denise's fianc Barak Sorensen w
ouldn't realise that Denise was the real culprit. Needless to say, the whole thi
ng gave Barak the lowest opinion of Nicola, but at least she need never meet him
again. Or so she thoughtuntil she went up to a farm in the Transvaal to work and
found that Barak
Sorensen was the man in charge...
Mills Et Boon
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ISBN 0 263 7301 5 8
WALK IN THE
SHADOWS
BY
JAYNE BAULING
MILLS & BOON LIMITED
17-19 FOLEY STREET LONDON W1A 1DR
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the
Author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or name
s. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to th
e Author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transm
itted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy
ing, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, withou
t the written permission of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or
otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior
consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in w
hich it is published and without a similar condition including this condition be
ing imposed on the subsequent, purchaser.
First published 1978
Australian copyright 1979 Philippine copyright 1979 This edition 1979
(1) Jayne-Bauling 1978 ISBN 0 263 73015 8. Set in Linotype Plantin 11 on 121 pt
Made and printed in Great Britain by Richard Clay (The Chaucer Press), Ltd., Bun
gay, Suffolk
CHAPTER ONE
`PLEASE, you've got to help me!'
The voice was young and breathless, but the cool hand grasping her arm didn't tr
emble. Nicola Prenn spun round to confront the person who implored her help. The
girl was a stranger to her, as were so many of the people thronging her father'
s house this evening, waiting to see the New Year in. She suspected that many of
them would be strangers to her father too.
`What is it? she asked. She had slipped away to the veranda, finding the noise a
nd heat inside overwhelm-ing, hoping for solitude, only to be accosted in this w
ay with a demand for help.
She studied the girl who stood under the yellow lan-tern. Very young; certainly
not more than eighteen, Nicola thought. The voice that had beseeched her aid had
held tragic appeal, yet the face she looked into was smooth and expressionless.
It was a very beautiful face, with the short, straight nose and unblinking tawn
y eyes : framed by the silky mane of hair, it was the face of a young lioness, N
icola thought fancifully.
She was conscious of her own face seeming over-made-up beside the subtle colouri
ng the girl had used to enhance her tawny beauty, but the heavy make-up had been
applied with deliberate intent. Nicola's skin was one which paled drastically i
n extreme heat; and today had been very hot, without a breath of wind to
5
6 WALK IN THE SHADOWS
ease the stifling humidity. In the afternoon, thick black clouds had rolled acro
ss the heavens and, hearing the distant rumble of thunder, she had thought thank
fully that they were in for one of their spectacular high veld storms, but the c
louds had drifted away, diminished by the heat, and by the time she had started
to prepare for her father's party, her hazel eyes had provided the only bit of c
olour in her white face. So she had used a heavy hand with the make-up and had p
ut on one of her skimpiest dresses in an attempt to keep cool, and now she was b
eing made to feel over-made-up and under-dressed by a willowy teenager. Nicola f
rowned slightly, waiting to hear what the girl had to say.
Ìt's my fianc, you see,' was the explanation. 'He's followed me hereI suppose my
parents told him where I'd gone. I've just seen him come in. It won't be so bad
if he thinks I'm on my own, just looking for a bit of, fun, but if he suspects t
hat I came with Todd, I'll be in real trouble. He knows Todd, and doesn't ap-pro
ve of him at all.'
Nicola's eyes narrowed. 'Would that be Todd Bax-ter?' she enquired.
=Yes, do you know him?'
`Slightly.'
He was an acquaintance of her father'shanger-on would be a more appropriate term,
Nicola thought cynically. Robert Prenn was a generous-hearted man, giving his f
riends a good time, and Todd Baxter was always ready to take advantage of that o
pen-handed generosity. She had met him once or twice when he had called on her f
ather, but she hadn't known he was here tonight She knew that there was a wife s
omeWALK IN THE SHADOWS 7
where in the background, and she felt sorry for the woman who was left without h
er husband, even on New Year's Eve. Nicola didn't care for Todd. It wasn't so mu
ch that he was evidently unfaithful to his wife; it was the way he mocked her, m
aking people laugh at her expense, that caused Nicola to despise the man
She wondered if this girl knew he was married.
Ìt's all the better if you know Todd,' the girl con-tinued after a moment's tho
ught. 'I don't know who you are, but I noticed earlier that you seemed to be on
your own, so you won't mind helping me, will you?'
`That depends on what you want me to do,' Nicola said carefully. It was an odd s
ituation; being required to help someone who was a total stranger to her.
Ìt's this; just pretend you're with Todd for a few minutes. Then my fianc will t
hink that if Todd is with you, I've been on my own for the evening, although he'
ll know Todd brought me here. That way, he won't have too much to be angry about
... just my going off to search of some fun,' the girl added with a smile, and
her young face was suddenly curiously mature.
Eve, Nicola thought inconsequentially. What was this child-woman trying to do? P
erhaps this fianc was older and had outgrown the need for the gaiety that would s
eem all-important to someone of eighteen. Eighteenit was young to be engaged. At
that age I imagined myself in love with someone new every month, Nicola thought
idly. I'd have been horrified at the thought of anything as permanent as a fianc.
Per-haps this girl found the permanency chafed too?
`Why should I help you?' she asked curiously.
`Please ! You must,' came the reply, and the desper8 WALK IN THE SHADOWS
ate young urgency had returned to the girl. She made a dramatic gesture. 'He'll
be so furious with me if he thinks I've been with Todd all evening. Please help
me by pretending Todd is your partner. It only requires a few minutes' play-acti
ng. I'll tell Toddhe'll under_
stand.'
She wasn't trying to make the fianc jealous, then. Perhaps her coming to the part
y had been born of a natural need to have some fun and she was now find-ing hers
elf in deep water. Nicola was used to assisting people, for the simple reason th
at she couldn't bear to see anyone in trouble, so she said, 'All right.'
It couldn't matter, after all. Todd was an acquaint-ance of her father's, and sh
e would probably never meet the girl and her fianc again. The girl obviously care
d about maintaining her relationship with the man, so she would give her assista
nce and just hope that this fright would prevent her from getting into trouble a
gain.
`Thank you,' the girl breathed, her tawny eyes sparkling. 'You're a darling ! No
w listen, my fianc hasn't seen me yet, so I'll just pop in and tell Todd what we'
re going to do, and you can follow in a minute and take him off somewhere as if
he was your exclu-sive property.'
`Heaven forbid if he really was,' Nicola said as the girl left the veranda to re
turn indoors, moving with feline grace. She had the tall, slim figure of a model
.
An intriguing character really, the older girl thought. There would be an inborn
canniness there. The girl would know how to avoid trouble. She was a quick thin
ker.
WALK IN THE SHADOWS 9
Nicola smoothed her auburn hair. In a minute she would go inside. She hoped she
would be able to find Todd easily.
She glanced at her watch. Another hour to go before they would welcome in the Ne
w Year. She wondered what it would hold for her. She couldn't think of any-thing
she wanted desperately. She was fairly contented with her life as it was; she h
ad many friends and she enjoyed her painting. Nicola knew how lucky she was. Alt
hough her mother had died when she was still a toddler, she had had a happy chil
dhood, brought up in Natal by her maternal grandparents while her father found s
olace in his painting, travelling round South Africa and its neighbouring countr
ies, constantly seek-ing new scenery to which the artist in him could re-spend.
What a way to spend New Year's Eve ! Nicola thought as she prepared to leave the
peaceful veranda : first wilting and bored among a crowd of people who were mos
tly strangers; now manoeuvred into playing a devious game for the sake of a youn
g woman who was probably eminently capable of looking after herself. So differen
t from Christmas which they had spent with her mother's family in Natal. Her bro
ther Clive and his young wife had come down from Rhodesia and there had been onl
y the family present to share the festivi-ties. But by Boxing Day, Robert Prenn
had been tired of the green South Coast and its gentle scenery, and Nicola had r
eturned with him to the house in northern Johannesburg which was within easy rea
ch of the Magaliesberg, that range which had inspired all Robert's most dramatic
paintings.
- 10 WALK IN THE SHADOWS
Nicola entered the house reluctantly, narrowing het eyes against the haze of smo
ke which hung over the big lounge. Chatter and laughter, some of it unnaturally
high-pitched, assaulted her ears as she looked about for Todd Baxter. She saw he
r father,' his bushy hair standing wildly on end, his outstretched arms gestur-i
ng expressively as he argued vigorously with a fellow-artist who was his greates
t rival and best friend. He ignored her as she passed him and Nicola smiled ruefully. Robert was well away and if the argument re-mained -unsettled it midnight
, he would continue with it, happily forgoing the traditional New Year celebra-t
ions.
This was a ridiculous situation in which she had involved herself, she realised
as she caught sight of Todd and started to make her way towards him. She should
have told the girl to get herself out of the trouble she had made for herself in
stead of calling on a stranger to do it for her. But it wasn't in Nicola to re-f
use a plea for help, however distasteful she might find the activities involved
in giving it. Her father called it her missionary streak, and it had led her int
o hot water more than once in the past. Nicola sighed. She only hoped the girl h
ad warned Todd of what was forth-coming.
Feeling rather foolish, she laid a hand on his arm and smiled up at the man who
was an occasional visitor when Robert Prenn was at home. Nicola had little exper
ience of acting and the action was an effort, so she hoped the wrathful fianc was
watching. That would make it worthwhile.
Àh, Nicola!' Todd Baxter returned her smile, imWALK IN THE SHADOWS 11
prisoning the hand she had placed on his arm. 'Denise didn't tell me it would be
you.'
Ìs that her name? I don't think she knows who I am,' Nicola replied, still smil
ing over-brightly in case the fianc was looking on.
`She picked the right person anyway,' Todd said ap-preciatively. 'In more ways t
han one. Your father has spoken of your inability to leave well alone.'
Ànd of course I had to be in on this, once the situa-tion was made known to me,
' Nicola said with a mix-ture of rue and coldness. She found it impossible to li
ke the man, but for the sake, of the girl's relationship with her fianc ...
Todd released her hand and slipped an arm about her waist. It cost Nicola a grea
t deal to refrain from re-coiling visibly. It wasn't that Todd Baxter was in any
way physically repulsive : he was moderately present-able, a man of about thirt
y with light brown eyes and floppy brown hair; but she couldn't forget some of t
he cruel things he had said about his wife. If a man left his wife, Nicola belie
ved he ought to redeem. the action by having the courtesy never to run her down
in front of other people. But of course, Todd hadn't permanently left his wife.
'I can't afford to,' he had said once. 'She holds the purse-strings.'
`This is an unexpected bonus,' he was telling her now. 'I think it's a favourabl
e omen for the New Year.'
`Where do we go from here?' Nicola. demanded, wholly unresponsive to the charm h
e was attempting to employ. 'We can't continue smiling inanely at each other, wi
th your arm draped around my waist. We must look ridiculous. Won't this Denise's
fianc be
satisfied with the picture we've already presented?'
Òh, not yet,' Todd said quickly. 'I want him to be fully convinced that I'm wit
h you. If he thinks Denise and I ... I don't want to get on the wrong side of hi
m any more than I can help.'
'Are you scared of him?' Nicola asked scornfully.
`Yes, and so would you be if you met him So you want to know where we go from he
re? Straight back to the veranda from which you've just come,' Todd advised. 'Wh
at a girl like you was doing alone in that romantic setting, I can't think, but
allow me to remedy that. The situation warrants it. We make an osten-tatious exi
ttogether.'
`Not too ostentatious,' Nicola cautioned. 'Let's hope the fianc has his eye on us
and comes to the desired conclusion. I shouldn't like all this to be wasted.'
Ìt won't be, I promise you,' Todd told her, and Nicola felt uneasy. She allowed
him to keep his arm about her as they headed for the veranda. He carried a half
-full glass in his free hand. If her father saw this exit, an explanation would
be demanded of her, she felt sure, because although Robert never interfered in h
er life, she knew that while he tolerated Baxter as a visi-tor to the house, he
would never call the man 'friend'.
Looking back as they went out on to the verandah, she caught sight of the girl w
hom Todd had called Denise. She was with a tall man, but Nicola couldn't tell if
he was watching them or not.
Once qutside, Todd put his glass down on the veranda table and attempted to draw
Nicola into his arms, but she evaded him. 'Oh no, Todd. No one is watching us n
ow, and I haven't done this for your
benefit, but for the sake of that girl who was obviously worried about the const
ruction her fianc might put on her being here when you're around. Why did you bri
ng her? She's not much more than a child.'
Todd laughed. 'My dear Nicola, Denise Graeme might be eighteen to yourwhat is it,
twenty-three? But she's much older than you in many ways. She's all woman, whil
e you're as naive as they come. But never mind, I like you very much.'
`What am I supposed to do? Swoon into your arms after your last thrilling remark
?' Nicola retorted sar-castically. She didn't relish being told she was naive.
`You've got a sharp tongue,' Todd commented.
Again he put his arms about her and this time Nicola was unable to avoid him, fi
nding the wall behind her. She glared furiously at him and his face was alien in
the yellow lighting She was surprised by his persist-ence tonight. He had never
taken much notice of her before. But then he had never seen her so made-up, or
wearing such a scanty dress before. She had always been in the jeans she wore fo
r working when he had previously called op her father.
`You could ruin this girl's engagement,' she couldn't resist admonishing him Nic
ola Prenn, who wanted to see everybody's lives -turn out as 'satisfactorily as h
er own had done.
Ì don't think she'd allow me to do so,' Todd said, drawing her closer to him, a
nd Nicola found it impos-sible to break free of his clasp.
Ànd what about your wife?' she demanded after struggling vainly for a while.
She felt an urge to slap him when he laughed and
stated, 'Oh, Hilary keeps me in the style to which I'm accustomed.'
He released her abruptly as a sound came from be-hind him. Mortified, Nicola sta
red at the willowy Denise Graeme and the tall, powerfully built man be-side her.
He possessed a satanic darkness of hair and skin, so that the ice-grey eyes pre
sented an almost frightening contrast, and it was those eyes rather than anythin
g else about him which drew the attention.
A slow smile softened the girl's expressionless features. 'As you can see, darli
ng, Todd has concerns of his own. I'm sure he's cursing our intrusion,' she adde
d on a light gurgle of laughter, drawing closer to her fianc.
Às I can see,' the man echoed her sardonically. The grey eyes were contemptuous
, flicking over Nicola and returning to Todd, who looked distinctly uncomfort-ab
le. If she hadn't been so embarrassed herself, Nicola might have laughed. What a
classic situation!
`Didn't expect to see you here tonight,' Todd ad-dressed the man awkwardly.
Èvidently,' was the coldly indifferent reply. 'How-ever, you needn't let my pre
sence worry you. Denise and I will be leaving in a minute. I just wanted to as s
ure myself of something.'
He had wanted to make sure that Todd was too fully occupied to have bothered wit
h Denise, Nicola de-duced. She wished the pair of them would go awayand Todd too.
Denise smiled at her. 'You needn't worry about us; we know how to keep our mouth
s shut.'
`Thanks,' Todd muttered, and Nicola, blushing, could have screamed. The fianc's i
nterpretation of the situation was just as she and the girl. had planned it shou
ld be, but she resented it nevertheless, particularly with those occasional appr
aising glances that the grey eyes sent her way. Once again she was conscious of
the sight she must look, especially beside the cool good taste of Denise Graeme.
`Shall we go, darling?' Denise asked, slipping her arm through the man's. 'They
can't want us here. I'm afraid I can't thank our hosts because I don't know who
they are. You know how it is at these parties.'
Ì do,' the man agreed. 'And I've already thanked your host on your behalf; he's
Robert Prenn.'
How high-handed, Nicola thought. In Denise's place, she would resent that.
The artist?'
`Yes.'
Ànd I didn't even meet him,' the girl said regret-' fully.
Neither of them appeared to know that Nicola was Robert Prenn's daughter, and sh
e said nothing, re-maining as mute as Todd, who was standing helplessly beside h
er.
`Let's get away from here,' Denise's fianc sug-gested, making it clear that he fo
und the company out here distasteful. The couple turned, then the man glanced ba
ck to address Nicola : 'I might have been tempted to give you a gentle warning,
but judging by what I overheard just now, you haven't any illusions about what y
ou're doing.'
They were gone, a beautiful young girl and an over-whelmingly scornful man, leav
ing Nicola clenching her fists.
She had never felt so humiliated in her life. How much had they overheard before
she and Todd had be-come aware of the pair's presence? She tried to recol-lect
... Nicola's mouth turned down ruefully. Her last words to Todd had been the tra
ditional question women had put to men down the ages : 'What about your wife?'
`Well! Thank goodness they've gone,' Todd mur-mured now, putting a hand out towa
rds her. 'Darling, weren't we embarrassed!'
Nicola turned on him, her hazel eyes blazing. 'I've had enough, Todd. I've done
what was asked of me, and Miss Graeme's fianc came to the desired con-clusion. I'
m going in now. You'd better accompany me in case they're still about, but after
that we're separat-ing and I'm staying well away from you. You make cruel fun o
f your wife, but you've the hypocrisy to be grateful to someone who offers to re
main discreet about your present activities. Why the muttered thanks to the girl
otherwise?'
`Hilary keeps me very comfortably,' Todd Baxter drawled. 'She knows why I marrie
d her, but I don't want her to know anything else. She might turn the tap off ou
t of spite if she did.'
`You married one woman for her money and enjoy spending it on others,' Nicola sa
id coldly.
`Be your age, darling. Men do that, you know.' Nicola drew away from him in disg
ust. 'I've often, thought deserted wives were vindictive, but perhaps
they have just cause for it,' she told him icily. 'I cer-tainly wouldn't think a
ny the worse of your wife if she did turn off the tap. In fact, I'd applaud her.
'
She turned abruptly and went back into the house, forgetting in her anger that s
he had suggested that they enter together. However, it didn't matter, she realis
ed when she had calmed down a little. Denise and her fianc were nowhere to be see
n, so they had obviously left. It was not merely Todd's callous attitude towards
his wife that made Nicola so furiousafter all, the un-known wife might enjoy a l
ife of her own as Todd did but the fact that she had looked such a fool when the
couple had come out to the veranda.
Oh well, it was unlikely that she would ever meet them again, and she hoped Todd
Baxter would keep away from her father's home in future. Nevertheless, Nicola c
ontinued to burn with humiliation. The memory of the girl's creamy smile and the
man's cold glance continued to torment her.
Nicola joined her father and remained close to him until after they had seen the
New Year in, trying to lose herself in the discussion on Matisse.
But as soon as the noisy gathering had hilariously exchanged New Year wishes and
kisses, Nicola retired to her own part of the house. She had a tiny flatlet whi
ch her father had had added to the building when her brother Clive had married w
hile still a student and had required a place where he and his young wife could
set up home without too much expense. Nicola had been the occupant for three yea
rs now, ever since Clive had qualified and taken a post in Bulawayo, while Aliso
n continued her studies through Unisa.
On reaching her room, Nicola immediately removed her make-up. The improvement wa
s startling, although she remained pale as a result of the relentless heat which
continued well into the night. She appraised her reflection as she stood before
the full-length mirror. She was of medium height and she had a slim figure. Pre
tty average all round, she thought wistfully, and then wondered why that should
be so. It was the girl Denise, of course, she realised almost immediately, for N
icola had always been honest with herself. Denise had a flawless beauty coupled
with a flowing grace of movement, and two men had wanted to spend New Year's Eve
in her company; the fianc and Todd Bax-ter. The fianc was too supercilious by far
, and as for Todd ... But she, Nicola, had no one. That was non-sense, of course
; she had plenty of warm friends, both men and women, but she had elected to att
end her father's spur-of-the-moment party instead of accept-ing other invitation

s, and if she had been surrounded by strangers tonight, it was her own fault. Bu
t she couldn't regret her decisionher father had wanted her there. Robert Prenn s
et great store on the family unit and she knew that he had missed Clive and Alis
on since they had moved to Rhodesia.
Nicola continued her assessment of her reflection. She saw- a girl whose experim
ental movements con-tained an angular grace, cultivated as the result of childho
od filled with mishaps caused by a tendency to move with a freedom which had bee
n better suited to the open beaches than her grandparents' small house. Perhaps
that was why most of her painting, like her father's, was given to nature. With
four walls around
her, Nicola always found a measure of restraint to be necessary. Moving, paintin
g ... everything.
She examined herself critically. Her long silky hair was a rich shade of auburn
and slightly untidy at the moment, surrounding a face which was just a little to
o positively drawn for prettiness. Wide hazel eyes stared back at her dispassion
ately from the glass, fringed with dark spiky lashes, while the tan she had acqu
ired this summer, deepened by the brief -holiday in Natal, was robbed of its hea
lthiness by ,her present pallor. Her cheekbones were high, below hollow temples,
and her nose was straight. It was too bony a face, she decided with dissatisfac
tion. She didn't like her mouth either; she found it such an ordinary feature, f
ailing to dis-cover the allure of a slight sensuousness in the gentle curve of h
er lips.
Her smile, as she turned away from the mirror and headed for her bathroom, was s
elf-conscious. Con-templating herself in this way was an occupation foreign to N
icola. She vas more used to seeking beauty in rocks and expanses of veld than in
people's faces, particularly her own. She recognised this divergence for what i
t was; Denise Graeme had been so beautiful. She probably made all other women fe
el -dissatisfied with themselves. Nicola had never been envious of anyone in her
life, not even the girls whose lives had held the one thing lacking in her own
: a mother. Be-cause all those mothers, warmly caring and comfort-able though th
ey might be, weren't Ruth Prenn, and if Nicola sometimes needed a mother, it had
to be her own, although she remembered little of her.
But she knew she was coming dangerously close to
envy now, when she thought of Denise Graemeand it was going to be difficult not t
o think of her, Nicola realised as she got into bed after a quick shower. The hu
miliation she had experienced this evening would make her kick the sheets for ni
ghts to come. She was sensible enough to know it couldn't matter. The likeli-hoo
d of her ever meeting the couple again was very remote. Nevertheless, the memory
of a pair of ice-grey eyes regarding her scornfully continued -to make her burn
with mingled resentment and mortification. She was haunted by a dark, powerfull
y built man, scorn expressed in every strong feature, and beside him, the girl w
ho had been the cause of the whole embarrassing situation. She ought to make a New Year resolution never to allow herself to be inveigled i
nto assisting anyone again, Nicola thought wryly as she pulled the top sheet ove
r her. But that was an impossibility, the knowledge came to her as she sleepily
recalled the many occasions when she had felt herself obliged to help people out
of awkward situationsusually ending up in a further awkward situation herself ..
. like tonight. With her experience of trouble, she ought to have learnt to leav
e well alone ...
She rose early the following morning. It was too un-comfortable, lying in bed in
the steamy heat which was even more persistently energy-sapping than the pre-vi
ous day's sizzling weather. Consequently, she spent most of the morning in the s
parkling blue kidney-shaped swimming pool which her father had insisted on havin
g built and now claimed was the ugliest thing he had ever set eyes on. It might
detract from the
rambling beauty of the garden, but it was infinitely welcome on such a day, Nico
la thought. The sky was veiled by a white haze of heat, and hopes of a storm com
ing to relieve the intensity of the day were faint.
She was grateful for the fact that she wouldn't have to cook a full-scale New Ye
ar dinner for her father and herself. They had been invited to dine with friends
who lived out at Honeydew.
When the time came for them to leave, she changed into a thin dress and put on a
pair of strappy sandals. It was too hot for anything smarter, and even jeweller
y cluttering her person would only serve to irritate her on such a day. Her hair
had dried immediately she had left the pool and now she tied it back at the nap
e of her neck with a thin scarf.
Before leaving, her father invited her into the room he had turned into a privat
e den for himself. It led off his untidy studio, and Nicola was conscious of the
honour he accorded her by asking her to come through. Not even his closest frie
nds were allowed into Robert Prenn's hideaway, and Nicola could count on one han
d the occasions she had been requested to join him there in the three years she
had lived in the same house.
Robert provided his daughter with a gin and tonic and helped himself to a beer,
and they settled down in the comfortable armchairs he had chosen for his room.
Hobert looked across at his daughter as he raised his glass. 'The hottest day of
the year so far,' he com-mented.
`The only day of the year so far,' Nicola laughed.
Ì think it will be a good year for us both, my darling daughter,' Robert said.
'I feel it.'
`Then it will be,' she replied. 'You believe you have a divine right to happines
s, don't you?'
Ì suppose people who've met with success often start to feel like that,' he sai
d thoughtfully. 'But it doesn't always work out.'
Ì wonder if I'll ever feel that way.'
`Perhaps. But you lack arrogance, Nicola. I worry about you sometimes. You're no
t ... eaten by fire.' Òf course not. I haven't your genius.'
`That's a strong term.'
`Do you think I'm flattering you, Dad? You ought to know better. But I'll never
give .up my painting, so maybe I am devouredjust a little.'
`You'll never give it up, no. But I can see it taking second place in your life.
'
`Not in the near future anyway,' Nicola said with a smile. 'I'm content to drift
awhile yet. I'm very happy.' `Touching heaven?'
She shook her head. 'I'll amend that and say that I'm contented. I don't think I
want anything more. I don't like life to be too exciting.'
Ì do.'
Èverything excites you, Dad; a tree, a rock ... maybe you're the lucky one and
not me.'
It was true. Robert Preen had never lost a youthful capacity for wonder. He pond
ered her words in silence for a while, and Nicola studied him with affectionate
eyes.
`Did you enjoy the party?' he asked suddenly, star-ing at Nicola very hard.
She smiled her special diplomatic smile, knowing she had no hope of fooling him,
and said, 'Yes, thank you.'
Ì thought not,' her father said, sounding satisfied. 'I saw you with that chap
Baxterwhat were you playing at?'
Nicola sighed. It was something she desperately wanted to forget. 'Playing is ri
ght ! Or play-acting. I was helping out an idiot eighteen-year-old who ap-parent
ly hadn't realised until last night that running two men at once can lead to tro
uble.'
`Poor Nick, you do get yourself involved,' Robert chuckled. He swallowed some be
er. 'But I seem to re-member your trying the same thing at eighteen your-self.'
`So I did. That's youth for you. You leave school and it goes to your head, but
no one I tried two-timing was my fianc,' she told him.
Nor was there .ever a married man, unless you've not been as honest as I've alwa
ys believed you to be,' her father added. 'I don't like the way Baxter talks abo
ut his wife.'
`Neither do I, and I was always honest with you, Dad,' said Nicola. She had had
no secrets from her father. He had always been told about the men she went out w
ith, the ones who were friends, and the few who had been in love with her. She h
ad imagined her-self in love often, but the spark had been repeatedly snuffed, s
o that by now she had learnt to recognise infatuation.
Ì'm glad,' Robert said. He paused. 'I wanted to talk to you. Nicola, I have a c
ommission for you.'
`Dad!' Nicola sounded reproachful. Her father was welcome to criticise her work
and he often did so, wholly unmerciful in his strictures, but there was an
unspoken agreement between them that she should go her own way, accepting no hel
p from him, making her way up alone.
`No, listen, darling,' he said hastily. 'I want you to accept this. It means goi
ng to the Northern Transvaal the Soutpansberg and the Piesanghoek area. You know
how I've always said you ought to see that part of the country. Look at that pic
ture hereBlaauberg though that's not really near Piesanghoek. Some years ago I spe
nt a wonderful few months in that, area. Incredibly beautiful country.'
`Then why don't you take this commission, whatever it is?' Nicola demanded.
He shook his head. 'I feel it's something you should try.'
She asked, 'What is it?'
À portrait', Robert sounded sheepish, as well he might, Nicola thought.
`Dad!' She was even more reproachful this time. `You know I can't do portraits.
I don't like them any more than you do. My efforts in that line have resulted in
paint on canvas, and nothing more. I can't capture characterany portrait I attem
pt turns out to be insipid. I've never felt an urge to paint anyone. I don't thi
nk I like human beings much. I prefer mountains.'
`Then you'll be the poorer for that,' Robert said firmly. 'Listen, Nicola, I've
accepted on your behalf. This man, Sorensen, was at the party last night' he brok
e off. 'Nicola, why are there always so many strangers at my parties?'
`You should be. used to it by now. Friends bring other friends,' Nicola said.
Ì suppose so. Anyway, Sorensen said his old uncle had expressed a wish to have
me do his portrait.' `How vain!' Nicola snapped.
`Maybe. Anyway, I told Sorensen that I couldn't do the painting, but he seemed a
greeable when I told him you would do it. He said his uncle might be annoyed at
not getting the artist he particularly wanted, but that he'd come round in the e
nd.'
`Charming! And I suppose you conveniently forgot to mention that your daughter i
s no more a portraitist than you are?'
Ìt didn't seem necessary. If the old chap can't have Robert Prenn, then he'll p
robably regard another Prenn as the next best thing. And even if you do make a m
ess of it, they'll pay you well. They can afford to,' Robert added drily. 'You w
ill accept, won't you, dar-ling?'
Nicola laughed. 'I suppose so. It won't waste too ' much of my time, even if it
is a failure, and if you think I ought to visit the Soutpansberg region ... do t
hey have a farm there?'
`Yes, avocados. They do very well. It's the nephew's farm. Old Traugott Sorensen
had a citrus farm in the Nelspruit area but sold it when he retired. He only ha
d a daughter, and neither she nor her husband wanted it, and the nephew had alre
ady inherited this avocado place from his fatherTraugott's brother.'
`Did the nephew tell you all this last night?'
Robert shook his head. 'Some of it I heard when I was up in the Soutpansberg. Th
ey're much talked about up there. I never met them then, of course. The entire f
amily were on an overseas pilgrimage, visiting
the places their forebears had come from, during the time I was there, and there
was only a manager on the farm.'
`Sorensen? That's a Scandinavian name, isn't it?' she said.

`Danish, to be more specific,' Robert said. `Traugott Sorensen is half Danish, h
alf German, but he calls himself a South African. He's the youngest and only sur
viving sonhe had nine brothersof a Lutheran medical-missionary, Olaf Sorensen, who
came out from Denmark in the last century.'
`You don't get families of that size these days,' Nicola commented. `Traugott mu
st be pretty old if his parents came out in the last century.'
Ìn his seventies, I think,' her father said, setting his glass down on the smal
l table beside him. 'There was a big gap between the first eight sons and Einer
and Traugottso great a gap, in fact, that those two never really knew their broth
ers well at all. They were the only ones who went into farming and there was alw
ays a strong link between them. Barek, the nephew who was here last night, was E
iner's older son and as his younger brother wasn't interested in the land, Barak
inherited his entire property.'
Ànd is it Barak or his uncle who will be paying me?' Nicola enquired.
Robert spread his hands. 'I've no idea,' he said vaguely. 'The nephew put the pr
oposition to me, but he did say that the portrait had been Traugott's own idea.
You'll find out when you get there, I expect.'
Nicola looked at him helplessly. Robert Prenn never
did things in a businesslike manner. 'When do they want me?'
Às soon as possible,' he said. 'I know nothing about Traugott Sorensen's state
of health, but as he's elderly, they may be justified in wanting the portrait co
mpleted as soon as possible. You're to stay on the farm as a guest while you're
working. I have their address so you can write and tell them when they can expec
t you. Will you travel up by car?'
`Probably,' Nicola said. 'That's the best way to see the country. I'll have to t
hink about how soon I can leave. I have a few things that ought to be seen to im
-mediately, but I should be ready in a few days' time:If I'm going to do this po
rtrait, I'd like to get it over with as soon as possible.'
`Don't rush through it,' her father warned. 'Even if you're not very confident a
bout it, try to do a good job. Remember your professional integrity.'
Nicola smiled. 'Of course. I'll make an effort, and if it turns out to be a disa
ster, I'll still be able to say that I gave of my best.'
Nicola set out for the Northern Transvaal on the morn-ing following Twelfth Nigh
t. She had written to the Sorensens after deciding the date for her journey so t
hat they would know when to expect her. She had been in two minds as to whom she
should write to : Traugott Sorensen, her prospective subject, or Barak Sorensen
who had put the proposition to her father. In the end she had decided to addres
s the letter to Trau-gott.
She had succeeded in smothering her anxious qualms about the portrait Traugott S
orensen desired, having come to regard her commission in the light of a challeng
e. Perhaps, if he was an interesting enough character, she might even make a suc
cess of it. She hoped her subject wasn't too disappointed at having to rely on t
he exiguous talent of Nicola Prenn when he had wanted Robert, the father. He mig
ht prove dif-ficult if he resented her. It was strange, his having asked for Rob
ert Prenn, Nicola thought. People who had heard of her father were generally kno
wledgeable enough to know that he never painted portraits, while a large section
of the public knew nothing whatsoever about him. Traugott Sorensen seemed to fi
t into neither group.
Nicola wondered what he would be like. All she knew was that he was elderly. The
little family history Robert had given had been intriguing. She could visualise
the Sorensens : large fair men with the arro-gant blood of Viking ancestors in
their veins.
She was enjoying the drive, in spite of the January heat. There was a glorious f
reedom in travelling like this, stopping in a small town when she felt hungry an
d under no obligation to go on when some view intrigued her, or a cluster of hil
ls begged her to stop and receive rapture from their beauty.
Acres of parched veld, interspersed with farmland, and the towns she had never s
een before; Nylstroom, Naboomspruit, Potgietersrus, the important Pieters-burg,

and the surrounding cattle-breeding area ... - Nicola's hazel eyes remained eage
r and untired, in spite of the long hours of driving in the dazzling sun, conWALK IN THE SHADOWS 29
fined in the heat of her small vehicle. Anything new was an adventure, and here
there was so much she had never imagined existed; odd, unexpected hillocks com-p
rised almost entirely of huge stones, as if some mighty hand had reached out of
the African sky and placed them there. In the distance rose the Soutpansberg, fa
raway blue mountains, seemingly out of reach.
Being Nicola, wholly unable to withhold her assist-ance where it seemed even rem
otely necessary, and a lover of cats, she had to stop when she saw the pathetically skinny black kitten at the roadside. It took some effort to catch her, half
-wild as she was, but Nicola eventually managed to make a grab at the little cre
a-ture, and was soon breaking up the remainder of the sandwiches she had bought
in Naboomspruit and feed-ing the pieces to the kitten.
The land on either side of her was uncultivated here, and there were no building
s of any description in the vicinity, so her latest rescue must be very far from
whatever had once been its home, if it had had one. Now that it had been fed, t
he kitten was content to be petted and lay purring on her lap beneath the steeri
ng-wheel, while Nicola sat contemplating it. It was a female and about two month
s old, she judged.
`My latest example of interference, kitten,' she mur-mured ruefully. 'I'll just
hope the Sorensens like cats. Do Vikings like cats?' She shifted the sleepy kitt
en on to the passenger seat beside her and drove on.
She got lost only once in attempting to find the Sorensens' farm, and stopped to
enlist the aid of the African proprietor of a tiny, dim store, seemingly miles
from anywhere and which was crammed with
every commodity from bales of material to huge bags of flour. Nicola was intrigu
ed by the man's haughty Arabic features and she had ample opportunity to ob-serv
e him because it was some time before they could make themselves understood to e
ach other, Nicola's Afrikaans having been neglected since she had left school, s
omething which she now found disconcerting as her would-be helper apparently did
n't know any English, and the Afrikaans directions which flooded from him were i
ssued at such a rate that she couldn't possibly hope to follow.
Eventually she thought she had grasped enough to find the farm, and she thanked
him and returned to her car. She was surprised to find how near the farm she was
, and soon she was through the first gate and travelling up a steep, bumpy lane.
Passing a copse of trees, Nicola was so startled by the child who ran out into t
he lane that she nearly winded herself, slamming on the brakes.
Nicola had had a big enough fright to be angry, and her face was pale as she got
out of the car and ap-proached the little girl who was now hovering on the gras
s verge, staring unblinkingly at her with un-disguised curiosity in her strange
shadowy grey eyes.
`Well, honestly, you might have more care when you cross roads, even if this is
on private property,' Nicola said, and her voice wobbled slightly. She hadn't ye
t recovered from her fright. 'I might have knocked you over.'
The child, who looked about nine, made no effort to apologise. 'I didn't expect
anyone to come up here this evening. What do you want?'
Nicola, who had had little experience of children, was disconcerted. This one wa
s so very self-possessed, with her smooth, expressionless face. She was thin, bu
t healthily so, and her pale brown hair was tangled and untidy. Where had she se
en that face before? Not those shadowy eyes, Nicola thought, just the smoothness
. Like a plaster Madonna.
`Who are you?' she returned the child's question with another.
`Melanie.'
`Melanie what?'
`Melanie Sorensen. What's your name?'
`Nicola Prenn '
`What have you come here for? They won't want you.'
Nicola wondered what that meant. 'I've come to paint a Mr Traugott Sorensen.'
Ùncle Traugott, my great-uncle. But he won't let you paint him. He wants some m
an to do that, and you're just a lady, though your name is almost like a man's,'
the child said calmly.
`Well, they know I'm coming,' Nicola said easily. `Shouldn't you be getting home
? The sun will be set-ting in a few minutes and they'll wonder where you are.'
Ìt doesn't matter. They don't mind.' It sounded forlorn, somehow, but the littl
e face remained devoid of expression.
'What were you doing in the copse?' Nicola en-quired brightly. The child's calm
manner made her slightly uneasy. How did one talk to children?
The shadowy grey eyes grew round and mysterious.
'I had things to do,' Melanie Sorensen said, dropping her voice to a whisper.
Nicola smiled. That had sounded more naturally childlike. She gazed through the
trees. Imaginative games would be born and acted out among them, and they would
remain a private part of Melanie's world, something she would not share. 'Is Mr
Barak Sorensen your father?' she asked.
`My uncle. I haven't got a father. Or a mother. They died.' The childishness had
vanished again and it was said with an adult dignity. Did it conceal pain or ha
d she been too young to remember?
'I'm sorry. My mother died toowhen I was very young, but I was lucky enough to st
ill have my father,' Nicola said softly.
`Can you remember her?'
'Very slightly.'
'I can remember mine And Daddy. I was five, and they got killed. I'm nine now.'
Ànd are there just you, and your uncles Traugott and Barak?' Nicola enquired. I
f there were only the two men, that might explain why the little girl was wander
ing alone, far from the farmhouse, when night-fall was so close at hand. Two men
on their own, one elderly, might unwittingly neglect a child.
'There's Aunt Ellen.'
'Uncle Barak's wife?'
Melanie shook her head. 'Uncle Traugott's. She's old, but not as old as him Uncl
e Barak hasn't got a wife, but I think he's going- to marry my auntie. She says
so. She's only nine years older than me, though.'
`Twice your age,' Nicola said lightly. Which auntie was this, then? A relative o
r someone else? She con-tinued, 'Would you like to ride back to the house with m
e? Won't Aunt Ellen be worried about you?'
Melanie shook her head. 'I don't think so,' she said gravely. 'I'll go back soon
, though.' She moved nearer to the car and looked in. 'Did you bring your kitten
with you, then?'
`No, I found her about ten miles back,' Nicola ex-plained. 'She was starving, po
or thing.'
`What are you going to do with her?'
Nicola looked dubious. 'I don't know. I hope your family will let me keep her at
the house. If they don't want her, I supose I'll take her back to Johannesburg
with me when I leave. I have two cats there already.'
Ànd we've got three,' Melanie said. And a dog. They won't want her. I expect th
ey'll fight with her. Uncle Barak won't want her either. He'll be furious.'
It was all said in a steady monotone and Nicola looked at the child anxiously. P
erhaps Uncle Barak was a monster of a man. Melanie was certainly re-pressed. She
hadn't smiled once yet. Nicola hastily clamped down on fantasies of ill-treatme
nt and neglect.
Àre you sure you won't let me give you a lift?' she said as she got into the Vo
lkswagen again.
`Sure,' Melanie repeated.
`Goodbye, then,' said Nicola, starting up the engine. She wasn't happy about lea
ving the little girl, but per-haps her guardians, as she presumed the adult Sore
n-
- sens to be, believed in giving children as much freedom as possible. She caugh
t a last glimpse of Melanie run34 WALK IN THE SHADOWS
ning back towards the trees, a slight figure in blue jeans, her pale brown hair
streaming out behind her as she ran.
Nicola continued on her way, now driving between vast plantations of attractive
green avocado trees. Further on she recognised a banana plantation. Some-how she
had thought of bananas as being exclusive to Natal. But of course ! This was th
e Piesanghoek area, and `piesang' was the Afrikaans for banana. They seemed to h
ave several sidelines, she thought as she caught sight of an African youth herdi
ng a small flock of sheep on the lower slopes of the mountains.
And there ahead of her was the farmhouse. Nicola slowed the car, caught up in th
e beauty of the scene. To live here ! She wondered if the Sorensens thought of t
hemselves as fortunate. The house nestled against the mountain, and the long dri
veway swept between terraced lawns, right up to the wide veranda. From where Nic
ola was, it appeared as if the veranda ran right round three sides of the square
, mellow old build-ing, and the crimson and flame of the setting sun caught the
windows of the house, making them glitter fierily, and touched the white walls,
turning them pink.
Nicola brought the Volkswagen to a halt in front of the wide steps leading up to
the big veranda, and got
out. As she did so, someone appeared at the double doors which opened into the h
ouse, and she went quickly up the stairs, smiling.
Then suddenly Nicola was no longer smiling and her hand had gone to her mouth. O
f all people ... ! Unfor-gotten, for it was only a week since she had last seen
him. The appraising grey eyes and powerful physique
were only too familiar. Hadn't the memory of this man and the girl, Denise Graem
e, who was his fiance, caused her to burn with humiliation over and over again in
the last few days? The occasion of their first meeting had been the most embarr
assing moment in her life.
At first the man's face held no hint of recognition; then his eyes grew cold and
his mouth became a straight line. It was the hard mouth of one who would be tot
ally relentless towards anyone he disliked, Nicola thought apprehensively as she
paused uncertainly half-way up the stairs.
`What am I supposed to say? That it's a small world?' he said with icy humour wh
ich wasn't really humour at all. He looked at her with profound dis-taste.
The atmosphere between them was taut, and the tension needed easing. But what, s
he wondered, could she say?
`How embarrassing,' she said eventually.
CHAPTER TWO
`WHY embarrassing?' he enquired without even look-ing at her. His grey eyes were
fixed on the panorama of distant blue hills which comprised the view from the f
ront of the house.
`Well, it is, isn't it?' Nicola said helplessly.
Tor you.' It was a statement.
`Yes, of course. For me. I didn't mean you,' she replied hastily, confusion stai
ning her cheeks a delicate pink.
`Naturally,' he said, unamused. 'You are Nicola Prenn, I take it?'
She nodded. 'And I suppose you're Mr Barak Sorensen?'
`You suppose correctly. If I had realised who you were the other night ...' He d
idn't even bother to finish it.
`You'd have cancelled the arrangement,' she com-pleted it for him, and he didn't
deny it. 'And if I had known who you would turn out to be, I wouldn't have come
.'
`Why not? Because you feel I know too much about you? Did Baxter know you were c
oming to Piesang-hoek?'
`Todd?' Nicola was genuinely surprised.
`Who else?' Barak Sorensen said impatiently. 'Never mind, I can't stop your addi
ng to Hilary Baxter's un-happiness. What was the idea? Woman and woman ... the p
rimitive challenge? Carrying it to the enemy's camp?'
Nicola grasped his meaning. For one thoughtless moment she was tempted to tell h
im the truth of the matter. Then she remembered how it had all come about. Denis
e Graeme had needed her help. It couldn't be undone now. She said, 'Of course, y
ou could pre-vent my adding to Mrs Baxter's unhappiness, Mr Sorensen. You could
send me packing.'
Ùnfortunately I can't,' he told her curtly. Trau-gott, my uncle, is employing y
ou, not me.'
`You could tell him. I'm sure he's as upright and moral as you are, never out of
step, so he'd share your opinion.'
It might have been a glint of humour which showed momentarily in the grey. eyes.
'Who said I was upright and moral? It depends, of course, on how one defines th
ose terms, and in your context ... At my age,
likely to need a woman, am I not? And I don't yet have a wife.'
Nicola flushed and wondered what his age was. Late thirties, she concluded, seei
ng the lines about his mouth. 'Not what I'd expect from the grandson of a missio
nary,' she mocked, rallying.
`Your behaviour isn't what I'd expect from the daughter of the man I met and lik
ed the other night,' he taunted, his eyes dangerous.
`Perhaps you don't know the man. It was a very short meeting, wasn't it?' said N
icola, simply for the sake of it.
`Perhaps not,' he admitted. .
Still they stood on the -steps, Nicola having to look up at him because he was t
wo steps above her. 'What are you going to do now?' she demanded.
He shrugged elegantly. 'Nothing, Miss Prenn. Traugott has come round to the idea
that if he can't have Robert Prenn, then Nicola Prenn is the next best thing. S
o you will remain here -until you have com-pleted the portrait, and Traugott and
Ellen will hear nothing of our former meeting.'
Nicola genuflected in brief mockery. 'Yes, my lord,' she said demurely, then ret
reated to the foot of the stairs as she saw the expression on his face.
Ì'd advise you to walk a little more. softly, Miss-Prenn,' he said, following h
er down.
`Meaning that I'm in the position of having to rely on your discretion.'
Put it that way if you like,' he said, not interested.
`You're not what I expected,' she said frankly, star-ing at him. 'I thoughtI imag
ined a fair Viking.'
`Preconceived ideas ... My mother was dark,' he informed her briefly. 'Let's get
your luggage into the house.'
Nicola opened the car. 'I haven't brought much. Would you take my painting mater
ials? Please be care-ful. And could the kitten have some milk right away, please
?'
`Kitten?'
`Yes.' Nicola picked up the sleepy animal. 'I found it on the road. It was starv
ing and in very poor con-dition.'
`Yes?' Barak Sorensen's face was expressionless as he regarded first the cat, th
en Nicola. 'I can see that. In addition, it probably has fleas, isn't house-trai
ned and is also an unspayed female. They always are.'
`She is a female,' Nicola admitted meekly. 'And she's much too young to have bee
n spayed.'
Ànd we're expected to welcome her as a member of the household?'
Ònly till I go,' Nicola pleaded. 'If you don't want her, I'll take her back to
Johannesburg with me. Or you might know someone who wants a cat.'
`The farms around here have more than enough as it is,' he said patiently. 'Ther
e are three here.'
Ì suppose you think I ought to have left her to starve,' Nicola said heatedly.
He smiled suddenly; just a brief lightening of his dark features. 'Oh, bring her
in. You can hand her over to Sarah in the kitchen.'

Ìs she the maid?'
`Yes. Come on.'
So Nicola went up the stairs again. She said awk-wardly, looking at him over her
shoulder, 'Thank you, Mr Sorensen. I realise that you must regard the cat and m
e as an imposition ...'
`Don't mention it,' he said. 'I put up with a lot for my uncle's sake. He has to
be humoured.'
Nicola's eyes flashed, but she kept silent. Barak Sorensen was like no one else
she had ever met, and she detested him. She wasn't used to being despised and th
e feeling was an uncomfortable one. As for Traugott, it sounded as if he was goi
ng to prove a difficult sub-ject.
They went through a short hallway and into a very large lounge where they were m
et by an African woman who had the same arrogantly proud features of the man who
had directed Nicola to the farm.
`Sarah, Miss Prenn has brought a kitten. You'd' better take it into the kitchen
and attend to it,' Barak Sorensen said after he had introduced them briefly. Àn
d please tell Madam that she's arrived.'
`Yes, sir.' Smiling, Sarah took the kitten from Nicola and left them.
`We'll wait for Ellen,' said Barak.
Nicola looked around the big room. It seemed to be at the centre of the house, w
ith the rest built around it,
except on the front where big windows commanded a magnificent view. It was growi
ng darker outside now, so she turned to study the room. It was in magnificent ta
ste, she admitted reluctantly to herself. What a wonderful old piano ! The carpe
t was luxurious and thick, deadening all sound, and the furniture was pre-Boer W
ar, beautifully preserved.
However, it was the pictures adorning the walls which impressed her most. Here h
ung the works of South Africa's best artists, as well as some by Euro- - peans,
treasures which Nicola would have given much to have possessed. Such marvels ...
you need a fortune to own even one. Just looking at them was an adven-ture. She
recognised one of her father's works, a corn- pelling view of Knysna in the eve
ning. The colours were sombre, even dull, but Robert's brush had cap-tured a pot
ential drama which excited the viewer to a pitch of uneasiness.
Forgetting herself, she turned to the man beside her. Ìsn't it thrilling' she s
aid breathlessly, in the state which only a rare few of her father's most dramat
ic works induced.
`Very thrilling,' Barak said drily, and the lamps in Nicola's eyes were switched
off again. Her smile died abruptly.
`Don't you like it?'
`Does one like that sort of painting?'
She realised what he meant. 'No, one experiences it,' she said softly.
He appraised her expressionlessly. 'It's little wonder I hardly recognised you a
t first. Nothing could be more different from the woman I saw the other night. V
ery
Much dressed for the farm now, aren't you?'
Nicola knew how vivid the contrast must seem. On New Year's Eve she had been ove
r-made-up and wear-ing a very brief dress. Today she had donned slacks and a pla
in shirt as being the most comfortable apparel in which to make a fairly extende
d car journey. Her lightly tanned face was innocent of make-up and her straight
auburn hair was tied back at the nape of her neck.
She was embarrassed by his scrutiny and didn't know what to say. Usually Nicola
was rarely embar-rassed, but this man succeeded in making her so nearly all the
time, and she resented it.
`What a contrast,' he continued softly, and she won-dered if she was imagining t
he threat in his voice. Threat of what? 'What are you, Nicola Prenn? How many ot
her personalities have you? All things to all men. I never liked itit's too easy.
'
`Why easy? All things to all men is what some politicians are. Why don't you say
canny, devious ... tricky even? You wouldn't buy a used car from me, would you?
' she flashed.
Ìt's a pity I saw you the other night,' he said, 'or you might have succeeded i
n putting over the present image.'
Nicola turned away from him, feeling inexplicably hurt. After a moment she said
tentatively, 'Mr Soren-sen, you mentioned ... carrying the fight into the enemy'
s camp. Does that mean the Baxters live near here?'
`Didn't you know that? Their farm is a few miles from hereHilary's farm, to be ac
curate.'
`Thank you. No, I didn't know.'
Ì'm surprised,' he said sarcastically. 'If Baxter told you he was married, I'd
have thought he'd have told you something of the circumstances.'
`Well, he didn't. I don't know him all that well.' `No? I could have sworn other
wise,' he said quietly, and Nicola flushed.
Before she could utter the hot words which had sprung to her lips, they were int
errupted by the entry of an elderly couple. Here indeed was the typical Scandina
vian, Nicola realised as she looked at Traugott Sorensen. Thick snow-white hair
which would once have been flaxen, bright blue eyes, a deep tan and ruddy cheeks
. He was a big man, in excellent condition for someone in the mid-seventies. The
re was no trace of flabbiness and very few lines on the face. It was a noble fac
e, she thought, and she might with luck be able to do it justice.
`This is Miss Prenn,' Barak said briefly. 'Miss Prenn, Mr and Mrs Sorensen.'
`How nice to have a visitor,' Mrs Sorensen said when they had shaken hands. 'I l
ove meeting new people.'
`You're not to hinder her from her work, trying to extract her life history, Ell
en,' Traugott Sorensen said with only the faintest trace of a guttural accent.
Ellen was much younger than her husband, possibly as much as fifteen years, and
Nicola liked her at once. There was a natural sophistication about the tall, sti
ll slim figure clad in navy, and the silvery-grey head. Nothing contrived or eve
n acquired in this legance : Ellen Sorensen would have been born this way.
Nicola, said to Traugott, 'I hope I can provide you
with a satisfactory portrait, Mr Sorensen, but I feel it's only fair to warn you
that like my father, I have never specialised in painting people. Dad told me h
e hadn't mentioned it to Mr ... your nephew.'
`Probably knew it wasn't necessary,' the old man said. 'Barak himself warned me
that the Prenns aren't portraitistshe knows more about art than I dobut I wanted a
Prenn. He's about the only South African artist I care for, and if I can't have
him then his daughter will have to do. We won't pass any judgment until we see
what you've turned out, young lady. But you're younger than I had anticipated ..
. I don't want you painting me with one eye in the middle of my fore-head.'
Nicola laughed delightedly. 'I promise you I won't do that.'
Ellen Sorensen's blue eyes twinkled. 'Both Traugott and I are ultra-conservative
when it comes to art. Now, what about my showing you to your room? You give me
that apparatus you're carrying, Barak; then I wish you'd look for Melanie. Sarah
says she's missing again.'
Òh, the little girl!' Nicola exclaimed. 'I saw her. I offered her a lift up to
the house, but she refused. She was near a little copse of trees ... before you
come to the avocado plantations if you're coming from the road to the house. Oh,
it's hard to explain.'
Ì know where you mean,' he said. 'She's been found there on previous occasions.
All right, Ellen, I'll go and fetch her. Miss Prenn, have you left the keys in
your car? I'll move it into the garage for you before I go for the child.'
He departed, and Ellen turned to Nicola. 'Let's get
you settled in, shall we? Being farming people, we dine fairly early and Sarah w
ill be setting the table soon.'
They went out of the lounge, leaving Traugott Sorensen alone. 'I've given you a
room at the end of one of the side verandas,' Ellen explained. 'That way, you ca
n have privacy if you get tired of us. Melanie has the room opposite you, at the
other end, but she won't disturb you. She's a quiet child, too quiet.'
Nicola followed Mrs Sorensen into a big comfortable bedroom which, like the loun
ge, spoke of good taste, and it was evident that no expense had been spared over
the furnishings. The wide bed was an antique, with a wooden frame and beautiful
ly gleaming head-board, and the heavy cover was cream, like the carpet. The wall
s were papered in, sunshine yellow and the dark wood of the furniture made an at
tractive contrast.
Àll my favourite colours,' Nicola said happily. 'It's beautiful, Mrs Sorensen.'
Ì thought you'd like it,' the older woman said, look-ing pleased. She sat down
carefully. on a high-backed chair. 'Sarah tells me you brought a cat with you?'
`Yes, I found her at the roadside and I just couldn't leave her. She was starvin
g. But I'm sorry if it's going to be a nuisance to you,' Nicola said anxiously.
'I understand you already have three cats. I'll take her back to Johannesburg wh
en I leave.'
'It might be unwise to uproot her if she settles well,' Ellen said. 'One more ca
t won't make much difference, and none of us has any objection to the creatures.
'
Ì don't think Mr Sorensenyour nephew, I mean was very pleased,' Nicola said doubt
fully.
Ellen smiled. 'You mustn't mind Barak. He's been
under a bit of strain lately, what with the worry Melanie causes us, and Denise'
s restlessness. Of course, I expect the situation will resolve itself eventu-all
y, but I've always thought Barak was trying to make Denise a substitute for Vane
ssa. She's just like her sister was at that age. Barak and Vanessa had a some-wh
at stormy affair more than ten years ago, but she married his brother Karl in th
e end, because she wanted to get away from farming and he had this job in Pieter
sburg. That's what makes Melanie all the more precious to Barakthe fact that she'
s Vanessa's daughter. Oh dear, I suppose you think it's in very bad taste for me
to be talking in this way when we've only just met, but I knew immediately that
you were someone I could talk to. And I do miss a woman's company. All my frien
ds around here are farmers' wives and consequently very busy women, so some-time
s I go for days without seeing them. Occasionally it gets so bad that I simply h
ave to get out the car and run into Louis Trichardt.'
`But you're happy in the country?' Nicola said a little absently. She was thinki
ng about Barak Sorensen. How would he have taken it when Vanessa had chosen to m
arry his brother? He would be as proud as Lucifer, she was sure. And Denise Grae
me now, a substitute for the older sister, and restless, perhaps because she sus
-pected the truth, was even trying to test his feelings for her as a woman, an i
ndividual, and not the sister of Vanessa. Maybe that was why she had gone to the
party in Johannesburg with Todd Baxter.
Denise. Of course, that had been who Melanie's small, smooth face had reminded h
er of. The pale
brown hair was different, and the child's eyes grey where Denise's were tawny, b
ut the expressionlessness of the faces was identical. Then Denise was whom Melan
ie had meant by her 'auntie'.
Òh yes, Traugott and I are very happy here,' Ellen Sorensen was saying, and Nic
ola cast aside speculation on the subject of Denise and Barak. 'As long as we ha
ve occasional visits to Pretoria and Johannesburg, I love it. And Barak has assu
red us that he wants us to stay on when and if he marries, so we don't have to w
orry about the future. My husband worked a citrus farm in the Eastern Transvaal,
but when he decided to re-tire we sold it, as it would have been no use to Ilse
and Peter. use is our daughter, our only child. They live in Messina, so this i
s nice and near, and they frequently come up for weekends, so I see quite a lot
of my grandchildren. use and Peter actually met in Messina, when she was working
at the Beit Bridge customs post. He's with the mines.'
`Messina is a major copper centre, isn't it?'
`That's right. The name is a corruption of the native word musina, which means c
opper,' Mrs Sorensen explained.
Ìs it? And I always thought it was named after Sicily's Messina,' Nicola confes
sed.
When Mrs Sorensen had left her, she had a quick bath in the private bathroom whi
ch adjoined her room and boasted the same colour-scheme, before opening her case
s. She spent quite a while deciding what to wear, and was astonished at herself.
Usually neat com-fort and cleanliness were her only concerns but some-how she f
elt that tonight she must look her best.
Eventually she decided on a panelled cream skirt and a jade-green blouse, adding
a matching necklace which enhanced the slenderness of her tanned throat. She ra
rely wore jewellery anywhere other than about her neck, not liking to have her f
ingers and wrists en-cumbered. For the same reason, she would always re-move her
watch and work with her forearms bare, even in winter.
She took her time over applying the most discreet of make-up and even troubled t
o varnish her nails with clear polish. If only she could erase the impression sh
e had made on Barak Sorensen the previous week ... But she knew that it was a fo
rlorn hope. That night in her father's house, it hadn't been merely her appear-a
nce that had contrived to make him dislike her : it had been what he had seen an
d overheard as well, and she couldn't explain hey behaviour to him without causi
ng further trouble between him and Denise.
Nicola paused in the act of brushing her hair. The time she would spend in the S
orensen household was going to hold much in the way of discomfort for her, if it
was to be under the cloud of Barak Sorensen's dis-like-... or was it disapprova
l? It could hardly be said that their acquaintance had got off to a harmonious s
tart. And he would be even icier in his attitude to-wards her if he suspected th
at Ellen had told her so much about his personal affairs; about Vanessa who had
married his brother Karl after an affair with Barak, and about his present probl
ems concerning Denise Graeme. Strange really : he looked the sort of man who wou
ld regard fortune as a divine right of his, someone who would always get his own
way. Nicola
wondered what the brother had been like.
She picked up her brush again, feeling strangely depressed. No, it wasn't going
to be an easy interlude, but she would make the most of it, here amid the beauti
ful mountains north of the Tropic of Capricorn. Her father had warned her not to
hurry over the por-trait and she was determined to heed his advice. It would be
an abuse of the professional integrity he had instilled in her if she executed
a work made bad through haste. Nevertheless, she hoped it would not take too lon
g.
Nicola left her hair loose, and its auburn richness swung silkily about her neck
and shoulders as she went through to the lounge. There she was met by Sarah who
told her that the family was on the veranda at the front of the house and expec
ted her to join them there.
They were all there, including Melanie, now no longer in jeans but wearing a sho
rt pink dress,
`There you are !' Ellen Sorensen looked pleased. 'We always sit out here before
dinner in the summer. You do look nice, Miss Prenn.'
`You do look nice, Miss Prenn,' Barak mimicked in understones so that only Nicol
a could hear as he drew up a chair for her. 'Which image is it now? Demure yet s
ophisticated, perhaps? The type who'll ask for a small dry sherry?'
Ì'm not a type at all, Mr Sorensen,' Nicola retorted in the same low voice. 'I'
m all things to all men, re-member. And I always ask for gin and tonic.'
`So be it,' he said, unperturbed, and with just the faintest trace of amusement
in the pale grey eyes. `What are you talking about?' Melanie asked
blandly. 'She's not Miss Prenn, Aunt Ellenshe's Nicola Prenn. She told me so. We
don't have to call you Miss, do we?'
Nicola laughed as she sank into her chair. 'Nicola will suit me fine,' she said.
Òh, good,' Ellen said happily. 'I do dislike formality between people living in
the same house. I'm Ellen, and you'll have to call the men by their Christian n
ames too, as two Mr Sorensens will lead to all kinds of confusion.'
Nicola turned faintly pink. She wasn't going to call Barak Sorensen by his first
name, and the dignity of Traugott Sorensen demanded formality.
Melanie got up from her chair and came to stand beside Nicola. She stared at her
for a few moments, then : 'Did they want you after all?'
Nicola accepted a glass from Barak, and turned to the child. 'Well, they want so
meone,' she said, 'and as I paint, I hope I'll suit your uncle.'
Ì hope so too,' the old man said. 'Have you really never done a portrait, thoug
h?'
Òh, I did at art school, and I've experimented since when the mood has been on
me,' Nicola explained. 'But I've never seriously attempted anything like this be
-fore.'
Èvidently your father thinks you can do it,' Barak pointed out. 'Otherwise he w
ouldn't have arranged for you to come up here.'
It was true. Robert Prenn might often feel it un-necessary to make a truth known
, but he would never accept a commission on behalf of himself or his daughter un
less he had absolute faith that the client
would receive a hundred-per-cent effort, even if the result might not measure up
to expectations. For Robert, as for Nicola, endeavour counted for more than res
ults.
Ì'll do my best to satisfy you, Mr Sorensen,' Nicola promised Traugott quietly.
`Thank you,' he said simply. 'I have always wanted a portrait of myself.'
It wasn't merely vanity that had given birth to the wish, Nicola realised presen
tly when they went through to the big dining-room. Two walls were hung with port
raits of big men with blue eyes. Nicola counted swiftly. Nine of them. All the b
rothers save Traugott, the youngest. She wondered which of them was Barak's fath
er. The portraits varied in size, and some had been sat for by Sorensens still y
oung, while others showed men who had reached the ripeness of maturity. If she s
ucceeded in her task, Traugott's portrait would presumably fill the empty tenth
space.
Ellen saw her appraisal of the portraits and smiled. `Now you realise why Traugo
tt wants his portrait. I must say, the brothers are a bit overpowering seen at o
nce, but he feels he ought to have his likeness join them up there. We don't see
much of the descendants of the first eight these days, partly, I suppose, becau
se only Einer and Traugott went into farming. Their brothers' children are scatt
ered all over South Africa, but in cities. That's Einer over thereBarak's father.
' She pointed to the portrait of a lean fair man, opposite the space Traugott's
would soon occupy. 'Barak takes after his mother in colouring, of course, but hi
s brother Karl was fair. He also had Grace's grey eyes, though.'
WALK IN THE SHADOW 51
Nicola glanced obliquely at Barak. She was seated between him and Melanie at the
round table. He caught her look and smiled frostily. 'I suppose you've had our
entire family history from Ellen by now?'
`Not quite,' Nicola retorted. 'What nationality was your mother?' she added dari
ngly.
Ènglish. Like Ellen, she was a descendant of one of the 1820 British settlers,'
he informed her without bothering to look at her again.
They were served their meal by Sarah, who quietly assured Nicola that the black
kitten was very happy in the kitchen. The food was excellently prepared. They st
arted with an attractive raw fish dish. 'Do you do the cooking?' Nicola asked El
len Sorensen.
`Sarah and I share it,' Ellen told her. 'It's a fallacy that two women can't sha
re a kitchen. We're quite happy working together. Sarah is much more practical a
nd unsentimental than me, though. The other day I broke my favourite egg-timer a
nd I wept. Sarah thought I was mad because I never used it anyway. But one gets
so attached to things, and it was a wed-ding present from a young cousin of mine
, thirty-six years ago.'
Melanie brought them back to their earlier subject by saying solemnly, 'I've als
o got Granny Grace's grey eyes, haven't I, Uncle Barak?'
`You have indeed, darling,' he assured her, and it was the first time Nicola had
seen the arrogant face soften..She glanced at the child who sat on her left. Th
e grey eyes, inherited from Grace Sorensen, were darker than Barak's, but it wou
ldn't be the eyes that Barak saw. No, it was the Graeme face, smoothly
lovely, which he saw and softened towards. Vanessa's face, mirrored in her daugh
ter; mirrored too in Van-essa's young sister Denise. Denise, whom he sought to m
ake a substitute for the woman he must have loved.
He was quiet during the major part of the meal, as was the child who ate little
and stared at Nicola a great deal. It was disconcerting, and she knew so little
about children. This little girl was surely stranger than most. Ellen Sorensen d
id most of the talking, pleased to have a fresh face at the table. Consequently
it was from Ellen, with some assistance from her husband, that Nicola learned so
me of the facts appertaining to Barak Sorensen's farm.
Traugott started asking her about her painting and she told him a little about h
er art-school training and the work she did now.
Ì have never understood,' Ellen said with twinkling blue eyes, 'why you artists
get so scathingly uptight about the "don't know much about art but I know what
I like" brigade. It seems a sensible remark to me.'
Nicola laughed. 'Eminently sensible when you think about it,' she agreed. 'After
all, they at least have a taste for certain pictures and models. That's better
than be-ing wholly indifferent to the subject.'
Traugott said, 'Don't back her up too fervently, Miss Prenn, or she'll be fancyi
ng herself as an art critic.'
Ellen looked at Nicola laughingly. 'As you can see, we've reached that stage whe
n we can cheerfully be rude to each other.'
Ì think that's nice,' said Nicola. 'It has a sort of honesty.'
Barak's quick glance was shrewdly appraising. `Then you admire honesty in a marr
iage?' he said dis-believingly.
Nicola flushed, realising what he referred to. The Baxters' marriage lacked that
quality and he imagined that she was playing a part in Todd's abuse of his marr
iage vows. She nodded, however. Ì do.'
`Yes?' His mouth curved derisively.
Nicola, aware of the curious looks that Ellen and Traugott were giving them, was
relieved when Melanie created a diversion by announcing that it was her bath-ti
me.
The adults took coffee in the elegant lounge and Nicola feasted her eyes on the
glorious art displayed there.
`Where are you going to paint my husband? In here?' Ellen enquired.
Nicola's discreetly sensuous mouth drooped. 'Oh, did you want it to be indoors?'
she said disappointedly. Ì had thought ... outside would be better.'
`So that you can give more attention to the details of my surroundings than you'
ll give to me?' Traugott Sorensen teased, his blue eyes very piercing in the sof
t electric light.
`No, oh no,' Nicola protested, embarrassed. Ì only thought ... you see, you str
ike one as a person who be-longs to the land. That's how I think of you, anyway.
'
The big white-haired man looked pleased. `Then it'll be outside. You can have a
look round the farm tomorrow and decide where you think I should be.'
Àll right,' Nicola agreed, spreading her small strong hands. 'We'll have to set
a time for painting, so that the
light is consistent each day. How do you want it? Full-length, like the one of y
our brother Einer? I've brought a canvas that size; I brought a selection becaus
e I didn't know what you wanted.'
Ì'll leave it to you,' said Traugott. 'I've an idea you know better than I do w
hat's required.'
Nicola laughed. 'I doubt that very much, Mr Soren-sen. I suppose you should real
ly have been painted on your citrus farmyour true environment.'
Ì never thought of it in those days,' Traugott con-fessed with a smile.
Melanie came in then, looking fresh and well scrubbed in shortie pyjamas and a m
atching dressing-gown. She gravely said goodnight,to Ellen and Trau-gott, withou
t kissing them or even smiling. Nicola wondered if she ever smiled.
`Goodnight, Nicola,' she said solemnly, pausing in front of her chair.
`Goodnight, Melanie.'
`Now, Uncle Barak, you can come and tuck me in,' said Melanie, turning to the le
an, dark man who had been watching her with inscrutably veiled eyes.
He stood up, and Nicola was conscious of how sur-prisingly easily he moved for s
omeone so tall.
`Come on then,' and for a brief moment he laid his hand on the child's shining l
ight brown hair. Melanie would be the Achilles heel of this strong man, Nicola r
ealised. Melanie, who was like her mother ...
Ìt's nice when you don't go to Auntie Denise in the evenings and can come and t
uck me in,' Melanie was telling him as they left the lounge together.
`She's so quiet and serious,' Traugott commented, his blue eyes following the pa
ir.
Ì wish she'd learn to laugh,' Ellen agreed with. a sigh. 'Nicola, if you've fin
ished your coffee, perhaps you'd like to come and see how your kitten is getting
on in the kitchen.'
`Thank you,' said Nicola, standing up.
Ellen took her through to the long kitchen which retained an old-fashioned charm
in spite of having been modernised, and Nicola soon saw the basket which contai
ned the sleeping black kitten.
Ellen smiled down at the kneeling girl and the cat. Ì think she'll be all right
in here. If cats have to share a home, they generally accept that and there's n
o trouble unless one of them comes too close to another. And Sylvester is a frie
ndly creature, more like a dog really,' she said, picking up a purring Siamese f
rom one of the kitchen chairs. 'Our other two are true farm cats, wholly nocturn
al. They come home in the morn-ing and sleep most of the day. But Sylvester like
s com-pany.'
`Melanie told me you have a dog as well.'
`Yes, a black labrador. He's probably out on the front veranda. He usually is at
this time of night. Officially his name is Don Quixote. Melanie wanted to call
him Donkey when we acquired him because she thought he looked like one, so we co
mpromised with Don Quixote. Needless to say, the poor animal still gets called D
onkey.'
Nicola laughed. 'That's rather sweet.' She stood up, stifling a yawn.
Ellen smiled. 'I expect you're starting to react to
your long journey and the change of air. Would you like to go to bed now?'
`Please,' Nicola said ruefully. 'It's just hit me. I hadn't felt at all tired un
til now.' Now she was weary, but she thought it was due to the discovery of who
Barak Sorensen was, and the subsequent strain en-gendered by his dislike of her,
than to the trip and change of atmosphere.
Ìs there anything you'd like before you go to bed?' Ellen asked kindly. 'Someth
ing to drink, or a book from the library?'
`May I have something to read? I like to take a book to bed with me, although I
don't think I'll spend long over one tonight.'
`Come along to the library then,' said Ellen as they returned to the lounge. She
opened a door leading off the big room. 'Through here. I'll leave you to browse
and find something you like.'
Nicola thanked her and she left. She had to admit that she was impressed. Their
own library. Every wall was packed with books, and there were a pair of mobile s
tepladders for reaching those near to the ceiling. Such a variety, too, of both
fiction and non-fiction, in several different languages. Although most were in E
nglish, there was a good supply of German books, as well as some of South Africa
's finest Afrikaans literature. And these were Danish, she supposed, coming upon
a short row with titles which she failed to understand. She wondered if Olaf So
rensen's sons had learnt his language.
Closing and replacing the book she had been looking at, Nicola returned to the E
nglish section.
`May I assist you?'
Oh, so courteous ... and cold, cold as that northern country from which his gran
dfather had set out, to bring God's message to a younger, newer country, still i
n its infancy. Nicola turned round very slowly to con-front Barak Sorensen.
`No, it's all right, thank you,' she said politely, tilt-ing her chin a little.
She was not a small girl, but in the presence of his imposing height she felt dw
arfed ... and insignificant. He exuded an aura of power. Nicola didn't like the
feeling.
`How long do you imagine you'll take over Trau-gott's portrait, Miss Prenn?' he
asked abruptly.
She shrugged gracefully. 'Never having undertaken such an assignment before, I c
an't say with any cer-tainty, Mr Sorensen. I know how badly you must want my dep
arturebelieve me, I'm looking forward to it as much as you are, but I have no int
ention of executing a shoddy work as the result of haste.'
He smiled lazily, the grey eyes half-closed. 'You don't wait to be attacked, do
you? You attack first. Why ... you find it the best form of defence, possibly?'
`What need have I of defence?' she parried.
`What need? You tell me ... Nicola.'
She fingered her jade necklace with nervous fingers. Why should she be nervous?
She, Nicola Prenn, a free adult of twenty-three, with her host of friends in Joh
annesburg, and her famous father, and the memory of her first taste of success i
n the art world. Why should she be nervous? She was an adult woman, yet here she
was, feeling the way she had done, years ago in Natal, when Sister Francesca wo
uld ask her to stand up and
recite a theorem which Nicola, ever unmathematically inclined, was sure to muddl
e.
Ì wasn't defending, Mr Sorensen,' she said sweetly, but with an effort. 'I was
merely attempting to re-assure you that I won't be remaining on your farm any lo
nger than I can possibly help. Nothing will delay my departure, I promise you.'
`Nothing? What about Ellen and Traugott?' he said, and she couldn't read his fac
e, but the tone of his voice was mocking. 'They are evidently quite charmed by t
he pretty little artist who's brought a fresh voice to their quiet conversations
.'
Ìf only they knew me for what I was,' Nicola mocked bitterly.
`Why are you so sure I condemn you?'
`You do, don't you?'
Ì haven't said so. Live your life as you please, Nicola Prenn. It's not my conc
ern, thank God. But I suppose you realise how easy it would be for you to take a
d-vantage of Ellen and Traugott?'
Ì ought to, considering the sort of person I am,' she returned ironically.
`Yes?' His smile held little humour. He was silent for a moment, watching her, a
s if for some sign of weakening on her part, but she returned his gaze un-waveri
ngly, her hazel eyes defiant. Then he said, 'If you're going to be working flat
out in an effort to leave this distasteful place, then you won't have much time
for seeing Baxter.'
Òh, I could make time if I wanted to,' she drawled nonchalantly, while fiercely
resenting the construction he had put on her relationship with Todd Baxter.
Ànd do you want to?' he enquired softly, and she shivered at the menace contain
ed in his tone.
For a moment she contemplated telling him the truth of what had happened on New
Year's Eve. But of what point would that be? It would only bring fresh difficult
ies to his affair with Denise Graeme. For both their sakes, she ought to remain
silent. After all, a marriage was in the balance for them, something to last a l
ifetime, and Denise must surely have come to her senses when she had realised th
e danger in which she had placed her engagement by her behaviour the previ-ous w
eek ... While for Nicola, there was merely the prospect of a short period of dis
comfort covering the duration of her stay in this man's home. Hardly any length
of time, measured against the span of a mar-riage.
But there was another possible strategy and she tried it. 'Do I want to see Todd
? Not particularly, Mr Sorensen. He means nothing to me. My attitude to-wards hi
m is not what it was a week ago.'
Well, it was true. The more she thought about Todd Baxter, the less she liked hi
m.
He observed, 'That was very short-lived, then. How do you arrange it? A quick af
fair over the holiday season, or between pictures, and painting, painting the re
st of the time?'
Òh well, easy come, easy go,' Nicola said flippantly. `Very easy,' he echoed dr
ily.
Ìs there something wrong with that?' she flared. `Surely that's better than som
ething permanent which might break up the marriage you're so concerned about.'
Ìnfinitely better,' he agreed. 'So you regard lovers as a diversion for the tim
es when you're not working?'
`You could put it like that,' said Nicola. She had never felt the need for a lov
er, thus far in her life. She had been satisfied to paint, and laugh her way thr
ough casual, lighthearted romances that were really no more than games, and ther
e had never been a man to take away the freedom and subjugate the independent sp
irit.
Barak moved nearer to her and Nicola's breast rose and fell more rapidly than wa
s usual. The pale grey eyes flicked over her in sharp scrutiny and the amused sm
ile on the hard mouth acknowledged her unease. `You intrigue me, Nicola Prenn, w
ith your changing imagesis there anything substantial beneath them when they're d
iscarded?and your Natalian accent.'
Nicola replied breathlessly, 'I hope you're wrong about the accent. A friend of
mine says Natal people talk far too loudly.'
`That's a generalisation,' he said, while she was con-scious of his eyes travell
ing over her neck, lingering briefly on her shoulders and breasts. Nicola felt h
er cheeks grow warm under the examination, although the cold eyes made it seem a
lmost clinically impersonal. He added, 'The diction is perfect, the tones as cle
ar as a bell ... but it's the gentle peal of a bell. You don't speak too loudly,
although I imagine you might raise your voice if you really and truly lost your
temper.'
Ìt's something you might yet see,' she warned him levelly. 'I've been very cont
rolled so far.'
Ì shall look forward to it,' he said. 'Are you a proper Natalian?'
She shook her head. 'I was brought up by my mother's parents, there, but I was b
orn in the Trans-vaal and think of myself as a Transvaaler.'
`Your father said he was a widower. What happened to your mother?'
`When you hear of someone dying young, what's the first thing you think of in th
is country where the rate of road deaths is one of the highest in the world? It
was an accident.'
Ì'm sorry.' For a moment he was silent. Then he said, 'That's how Karl and Vane
ssa died.'
In spite of resenting him, she found herself wanting to offer sympathy, but she
could detect no pain in his face, just a reminiscent expression. Yet Vanessa had
married his brother and died with his brother, and Barak Sorensen had loved her
.
She knew that the Sorensen pride would not accept sympathy, particularly when it
came from a despised stranger, so she changed the subject instead, saying brigh
tly, 'I had a very happy childhood with my grand-parents in Natal.'
He cast her a brief glance, as if he had divined her tactics. 'Lucky girl,' he s
aid sardonically. 'What was it? Ponies and piano lessons, and your friends envyi
ng you your famous daddy, away painting?'
`Don't forget the exclusive convent school and the talk about this talented litt
le girl's brilliant future as an artist, so like her father,' Nicola added.
He smiled suddenly, and his teeth were very white against his tan. 'And the hope
s that success wouldn't spoil you,' he supplemented. 'A convent ... are you a Ca
tholic, then?'
Ànglican. But I think I've attended as many Masses as Anglican services in the
course of my life. Dad be-lieves religion is something very private and personal
, so he never dictated on that score. The convent was merely convenient; my moth
er's old school.'
His eyes raked her yet again, and Nicola grew con-fused. She hastily extracted a
n English translation of a collection of Guy de Maupassant's short stories from
the shelves and turned to address his shirt front.
`Goodnight, Mr Sorensen,' she said, and, with her own peculiar angular grace, hu
rried from the library.
CHAPTER THREE
NICOLA was woken before seven the following morn-ing when Sarah brought her a cu
p of tea, and less than half an hour later she was going through the house, dres
sed in pale slacks and a thin lemon-yellow blouse. She was not accustomed to suc
h early rising, only get-ting up early when she was occasionally painting some-t
hing in the early morning light, but she didn't feel she had needed an extra hou
r in bed. It must have been going to bed so early the previous evening that was
responsible, she thought as she passed the hall.
Melanie was there, in the blue jeans in which Nicola had first seen her, hanging
over the telephone table. She halted her slow dialling as she caught sight of t
he visitor.
Ìt's breakfast time,' she announced without returnWALK IN THE SHADOWS 63
ing Nicola's greeting. 'They're on the veranda.' She waved in the direction of t
he side veranda, opposite to the one Nicola's room was off.
`Thank you,' Nicola said with the same gravity.
Àre you going to paint Uncle Traugott today?'
don't know if I'll begin today,' said Nicola with a smile. 'We have to decide wh
ere it would be best for him to pose first, so I'll have to have a look round th
e farm.'
Melanie considered this. 'Under the windmill,' she announced decisively at last.
'That would be best.' `Why would it?' Nicola asked.
Melanie shrugged. `Dunno Why, can't you paint a windmill? I can. I did it once f
or school. There's also the dam. Maybe Uncle Traugott would like to have the dam
in his-picture.'
have to ask him about that,' Nicola said as she turned away. 'Have you had your
breakfast yet?'
`No.' Melanie shook her head. be coming in a while. I have to phone a friend of
mine first,' she added, sounding important.
Nicola smiled and left her, a sombre-faced little girl dialling on the telephone
.
Ellen Sorensen and the men were at the table on the sunny side veranda, the men
just finishing their meal.
`Good morning, Nicola,' Ellen greeted her happily. Ì hope you don't find our me
als too early for you. These two men have already been out all over the farm. Th
ey always do the rounds before breakfast. Barak will be off again in a minute.'
`Which will no doubt gladden Miss Prenn's heartif she has one,' said Barak, his s
mile unreadable as he
appraised Nicola who stood uncertainly beside the table which was covered with a
n attractive scarlet and white cloth.
`What a horrible thing to say ! ' Ellen protested re-proachfully. 'About her hav
ing a heart, I mean. Of course she has one. Anyone can see that Nicola is the so
rt of person who feels things.'

Ì wonder,' Barak observed. 'If she has a heart, it's given to brushes and oil p
aint, Ellen. Affairs are for when she hasn't got anything to paint.'
`They might not be for even those occasions after my stay here,' Nicola retorted
. 'I'm rapidly being put off men.'
`Too bad, but maybe it will prove a blessing. Then you'll have nothing to distra
ct you from your painting,' said Barak.
Traugott Sorensen chuckled. 'Aren't they just like Ilse and Peter, my dear?' he
said to his wife.
`Far from it,' Barak disagreed. 'Do sit down, Miss Prenn. I can't stand women wh
o hover.'
Nicola sat down hastily. 'I do not hover,' she pro-tested indignantly.
`You do. And you rise,' Barak said expressionlessly. `Traugott, I suppose you'll
take Miss Prenn over the farm in order to decide where she wants to paint you?'
`Yes, we'll go after breakfast it that suits you, Nicola,' said Traugott.
Ì'm looking forward to it,' she said happily. 'What I've seen of this area so f
ar has been incredibly beauti-ful.'
Ìs this your first acquaintance with the Soutpans-berg?' asked Barak.
Nicola nodded. 'Yes. In fact, a great deal of the whole Transvaal is strange cou
ntry to me. I know the Magaliesberg range well, and I once spent a month paintin
g in and around Pilgrims' Rest, but that's about all.'
`You've done most of your work in Natal and the Golden Gate area of the Free Sta
te, haven't you?'
She nodded, surprised that he should know this. There was an additional hint of
colour in her high-boned cheeks as she said hastily, 'Why is this range called t
he Soutpansberg?'
Ìt was named after the saltpan discovered here by some Voortrekkers,' he told h
er as Melanie came on to the veranda.
Ùncle Barak, I'm going to Louis Trichardt this afternoon,' the child soberly in
formed her uncle as she took her place at the table.
`You must ask Aunt Ellen about that,' he said, again with that softening of the
features Nicola had noticed in him when his attention was focused on his niece.
`She might not be able to take you down.'
`Will you please, Aunt Ellen?' Melanie asked politely as she started on her slic
e of paw-paw.
`Very well, dear,' Ellen Sorensen said amicably.
Barak stood up. 'And don't forget that Mrs Graeme is expecting her this morning,
' he reminded Ellen. `Melanie, you're not to go wandering about on your own unti
l I tell you so. Van Zyl rang up earlier-to say we of their farm dogs has gone m
issing, and there's reason to believe the animal has rabies.'
Ò.K.' Melanie said calmly, continuing to eat. `Promise me.' The grey eyes were
compelling.
`Promise,' Melanie said obediently, looking up at him. Nicola was aware of a bri
ef moment of contact between man and child as their eyes met, one pair light gre
y and the other pair a shadowy and mysterious grey. There had been an understand
ing communication in the look they shared.
`That goes for you too, Miss Prenn,' Barak said 'as he moved away front the tabl
e.
`Very well,' Nicola said meekly.
He addressed Traugott : 'They're searching for the dog this morning. Excuse me,
please.'
Traugott escorted Nicola round part of the farm that morning. It was, as she had
already known, a beautiful farm, with some smooth open slopes on the mountain,
other rocky areas, and shady secret places where the great old mountain ashes wh
ispered the secrets of the wind. On the lower slopes of the mountain, Nicola pau
sed, entranced by the layers and layers of blue mountains folding upon each othe
r in the hazy distance ahead of her. There was so much here. The blue vista in f
ront of her, the big ,brown mountain- at her back protectively standing guard ov
er the house below. Here a plantation of gum-trees, shrouding the spaces be-twee
n them in gloom; there a peaceful dreaming scene,' with smooth-coated sheep graz
ing on a grassy slope, tended by a solitary small black boy wearing nothing more
than a pair of shorts. Their occasional bleats drifted on the wind and came to
the ears of Nicola and the elderly man who stood with her on another slope, near
a semi-circle of ashes.
Near them too was the windmill and below it the round dam, Melanie's suggestions
for the setting of the
portrait. Traugott laughed when Nicola told him and they agreed to look elsewher
e.
So now they stood, at a height considerably above the house, having finally made
their decision. After tell-ing him something of what she planned, Nicola's eyes
wandered again to the scene below them, drawn in-exorably to where Barak Sorens
en was addressing a group of Venda labourers near one of the avocado plan-tation
s. He moved easily among them, pausing now and then, to talk, yet his was a prou
d bearing. Very much the owner of the land, Nicola thought. Someone not to be hu
mbled, not ever ... and she had incurred his disapproval, she thought with a sig
h. If the god-head was angry, the ground would tremble. But ... oh no; she shook
her head, her lips moving slightly, in the grip of some emotion so strong that
it was almost as if her soul was possessed by an alien spirit.
Freeing herself from the bonds of imagination, she turned to look up at the moun
tain, then at the old man beside her. 'Do you ever go up there?' she asked, gesturing towards the topmost heights which were crowded with rocks and bushes, sti
ll and sunlit.
`Quite often,' Traugott told her. 'It's a favourite treat of Melanie'sto be taken
up so that she can see what's on the other side.'
`What is?'
`Bushveld, rocks, more hills. It's uncultivated on the other side.'
Ìt's a fascinating farm,' Nicola commented, still looking about her. She pushed
back her auburn hair. Ànd the sheep? Are they just for mutton?'
`Yes, it's a very small flock,' said Traugott.
The man who was employed to care for the gardens and terraced lawns below the ho
use brought her easel and the canvas she had decided to use up to them after the
y had decided on a spot. She didn't start painting that day, however. She and Tr
augott discussed what he ought to be wearing for the portraiteveryday working clo
thes because it would be a portrait of a farmerand Nicola studied him in various
poses from different angles, trying out first one, then the other, until she was
satisfied. She made a few marks on her canvas and took a few sketches which she
would study at her leisure, and they agreed that the mornings should be devoted
to the work.
Nicola hoped Traugott wouldn't tire too quickly when she required him to pose fo
r her. He was elderly, and the weather was of the draining, midsummer kind which
sapped the strength.
`What's that building over there?' Nicola asked as they returned to the farmhous
e a little later. She pointed to a long, new-looking building. 'It doesn't look
as if it's used.'
Ìt's not,' Traugott confirmed. 'Barak wants to have his own herd of cows, just
for our own supply of dairy products, just in the same way that nearly all our m
eat comes from his sheep, and that building is in anticipa-tion of them. But he
won't purchase his herd while this family down in the valley continues to need w
hat we pay them ... and they need every cent that's coming in at present, and th
en they only just manage. At first, Barak intended to go ahead and get his herd,
continu-ing to pay them for the milk we get, but in the end he
decided against itthey'd recognise charity and prob-ably be embarrassed by it.'
Nicola was silent, annoyed to be hearing this. She disliked the strange Barak So
rensen, so she didn't want to hear any good of him. It made her feel resentful,
be-cause she was impressed, not simply by his kindness to some struggling family
, but by his sensitivity in per-ceiving what their feelings might be if he had p

ur-chased his cows and continued to get the farm's milk from theirs. It spoke of
an awareness of others, and Nicola found that she didn't want any good qualitie
s attributed to Barak, and for her, kindness was golden and above any great virt
ue or lofty ideal.
When they returned to the house, Ellen provided them with coffee. 'Have you agre
ed on where it's to be?' she asked.
Traugott nodded. Ùp near the semi-circle of ashes, overlooking the plantation.
You know where I mean, don't you?'
`Yes. I must come up and watch you at work some time.' Ellen turned to Nicola. '
Or are you one of those artists who objects to being watched?'
Nicola laughed. 'Not at all. Once I'm absorbed in something, I wouldn't notice i
f I had all Africa looking over my shoulder ... although I expect I'll probably
be self-conscious about attempting a portrait. Oh, Mr Sorensen, I do hope it tur
ns out to be a success.'
`Just give it a good try, that's all I ask,' he said, smil-ing at her. His blue
eyes twinkled. Ìf it's your payment you're worried about, you can rest assured
that you'll receive it whatever the portrait looks like. After all, you'll have
given your time to it, if nothing else. I don't
know if Barak discussed terms with your father in Johannesburg?'
Nicola shook her head absently. 'Oh, it's not the money I'm worried about. It's
just that in the event of its being a failure, I'll feel so ashamed ... I'll fee
l I ought not to have accepted the assignment.'
`There has to be a first attempt for everything you do,' Ellen recited comfortin
gly. 'Nicola, I expect you'd like to see more of Soutpansberg while you're here?
I was wondering if you'd help me out by taking Melanie over to the Graeme farm
for a short while this morn-ing? You have a car, and it's an interesting drive,
not too far. Melanie never stays long as Mrs Graeme tires very easily. It's a sh
ame, reallyshe's still a young woman, younger than me. Of course, Vanessa's death
and now the problems concerning Denise have taken their toll. Anyway, Melanie c
an direct you if you'll do it.'
Àll right,' Nicola agreed. She was glad of the oppor-tunity to see more of the
surrounding countryside.
Shortly afterwards she set off in the Volkswagen with Melanie beside her. The ch
ild had accepted the news that Nicola would be taking her to see her grandparent
s with her customary calmness. Nothing seemed to her, just as nothing, during Ni
cola's brief acquaintance with her, had made her smile.
Nicola wondered if she would encounter Denise Graeme this morning.
As they drove along the quiet mountain road, she asked Melanie, 'Do you visit yo
ur grandmother often?' Èvery week,' Melanie replied. 'Uncle Barak says I must.
Sometimes it's nice there, other times I just want
to go home. Not like when I go to my friends' farmsthen I want to stay.'
`Have you a lot of friends?'
`Some. Uncle Barak is my best friend. But some-times I don't want any of them ..
. and then there aren't any people for me; I'm all empty inside.'
Lonely? Nicola wondered. 'But you need people, don't you?'
`Sometimes,' Melanie said guardedly, giving her a sidelong glance. 'When you've
been empty for too long.'
How solitary, howas the child herself had saidempty. Did it stem from the tragedy
that had touched her young life in the loss of her parents? Or was she that way
inclined anyway? A naturally self-sufficient little person who found solitude no
great hardship pro-vided it wasn't endured for too long a period and there was
the assurance of relief?
`What sort of farm does your grandfather have? Also avocados?' Nicola asked.
`No, bananas mainly,' Melanie told her. 'Do you like it here?' she asked abruptl
y.
`So far I think this is very beautiful country,' Nicola said.
`But what about us? The people? I didn't think they'd want you, but they do.'
Traugott and Ellen, yes, but there was somebody else who certainly did not, Nico
la thought. Barak cer-tainly didn't want her here. She said, 'I hardly know you,
but I think I shall like you as a family. You're all such interesting people.'
She liked Traugott and his wife already, Melanie intrigued her ... But Barak ...
`D'you think we're lucky to live here?'
Òh yes,' Nicola assured her young inquisitor with a smile.
`So do I,' said Melanie. 'I used to live in Pietersburg when I was small, but th
is is nice except that my mother and father aren't here.'
It was very calmly said, and Nicola wondered at it.
`You live in Johannesburg, don't you?' Melanie con-tinued, and Nicola nodded her
affirmation. 'We go there sometimes. Last time Uncle Barak took me to a place c
alled the Skyrink, way up high, and I skated. That was at the beginning of the C
hristmas holidays. He went back on New Year's Eve. He wasn't supposed to. We wer
e all going to have a party at the farm, and everybody was comingand so we did, o
nly Uncle Barak wasn't there, and neither were Auntie Denise and Mr Baxter.'
Ì expect you had a nice enough time, even without them,' Nicola said cheerfully
.
Ìt wasn't the same,' Melanie argued stolidly. 'You see, Granny rang up Uncle Ba
rak in the day and told him Auntie Denise was goneand he was very cross and he sa
id something very rude about Mr Baxter, and the next thing we knew he was gettin
g out his car and driving off. Shall I tell you what it was he said about Mr Bax
ter?'
`No, you'd better not,' Nicola warned her hastily. `Your uncle might be cross if
he thought you'd told me. I go past these crossroads, do I?'
Melanie assured her that she did. Nicola's mind was on what the child had told h
er. Barak had said some-thing rude about Todd Baxter : had he merely susWALK IN THE SHADOWS 73
pected the man of giving his fun-seeking fianc a lift to the party in the city, o
r of something more than that?
`Mrs Baxter came to our party on her own. She's a funny lady,' Melanie resumed.
'And when Uncle Barak came back from Jo'burg, he was still angry.'
Perhaps the scene she and Todd had enacted for the benefit of his engagement had
n't served to fully erase Barak's suspicions, Nicola thought. Or he might just h
ave been annoyed at having his New Year plans dis-rupted by Denise's flight and
the need to go after her. .Ì think Uncle Barak might marry Auntie Denise,' Mela
nie announced gravely. 'If nothing better turns up.'
Nicola laughed. It sounded so funny; as if it was a job Barak was thinking of ta
king, instead of a wife. `Will you like that?'
`Don't know,' Melanie shrugged. 'Then she'd come and live with us, wouldn't she?
She'd love thatAuntie Denise likes our house and farm. That's why I think it's s
illy when people say she's just like my mother, because Mummy hated farms. Aunti
e Denise likes ours, even though she doesn't like Granny and Grandpa's one.'
Nicola wondered where Melanie had learned all this Was it talk she had overheard
, or had she drawn these conclusions herself? It sounded as if she didn't want t
o believe Denise was like her mother.
`We turn through the next gate on the right,' Melanie directed her just then.
The Graeme farm was not on such a large scale as the Sorensen one, and there wer
e no avocado planta-tions, only rows and rows of banana trees. The house
too was small; it wouldn't have more than four bed-rooms, Nicola judged; but it
was an attractive little building, set in a neat garden, and its interior was ju
st as tidy as the little lawn outside. Everything spotless and in its place, kep
t scrupulously free of dust, the woodwork shining softly. It wouldn't take much
time to achieve this result, -though, as the rooms were very small.
But perhaps Mrs Graeme ought to let things go a little, Nicola thought when she
met the woman, who welcomed her pleasantly. Melanie's grandmother was a young wo
manin her early fifties, Nicola judgedyet the face which would once have been as s
mooth as Denise's was lined and haggard, while the tawny hair showed streaks of
grey. She looked so careworn, and her manner suggested that she had worries cons
tantly nagging at her mind, even while she talked to Melanie, whom she patently
adored.
Nicola felt a pang of compassion for Mrs Graeme. How terrible to lose your daugh
ter! Vanessa's death would make Melanie all the more precious to her; the legacy
Vanessa had left, so like her, and the only grand-child so far. But there would
probably be more ... If Denise bore Barak's children, they and Melanie would be
double cousins, Nicola realised.
Mr Graeme, a quiet man a few years senior to his wife, came in to greet his gran
dchild and ask her how she had been spending her time and whether she was lookin
g forward to going into standard two when the schools re-opened the following we
ek, but he soon excused himself, saying he was required at the banana plantation
s.
When he had gone, Mrs Graeme sighed and said to Nicola, 'My husband has to work
so hard. It's still some years before he's due to retire. We're hoping to live i
n town after that. I came from Pretoria and although I've become accustomed to r
ural living, I've always been homesick for the town. Melanie's mother took after
me in that respect. In fact, her feelings on the matter were much stronger than
mine; she genuinely hated farm life, so I was glad when she married Karl Sorens
en as it meant she would be living in Pieters-burg.'
According to Ellen, it was due to her desire to escape the farming life that Van
essa's choice had fallen on Karl, even though she had had an affair with Barak.
Òf course, Vanessa was very young when she mar-ried,' Mrs Graeme was saying dre
amily, her eyes fixed on Melanie who was astride a leather pouffe and riding it
as if it were a horse. Nicola knew that the woman was seeing her daughter again
in the child with her smooth face. 'She was eighteen, Denise's present age. Now
Denise is differentshe doesn't have such a deeply rooted dislike of farming. It i
rks her a bit to be so far from the city with its gaiety and exciting pace, and
I know she wants to get away from here, but I think she'd be content to live on
Barak's farm if she married him. The house is bigger, for one thing, and Barak c
an better afford to give her treats than we can. The Soren-sens have never been
cut off from the cities. You must meet Denise, Miss Prennshe'll be interested in
you. She's a great admirer of your father's work.'
Nicola was silent, wondering if she ought to admit to having already met Denise.
Barak had decided to
keep Ellen and Traugott in ignorance of the events of New Year's Eve. Did he exp
ect the same policy to be applied to others? She would have to play it by ear, ,
Nicola decided. Denise hadn't known who she was that night. Besides, it was hig
hly unlikely that she would have given her parents the details of the party she
had gone to with Todd Baxter, thereby disrupting the New Year party at Barak's f
arm.
Denise herself came in, just as Nicola and Melanie were preparing to leave. She
looked elegant and so-phisticated in a tan dress, her shining mane of tawny hair
swinging about her shoulders. At first she didn't recognise Nicola, and her fac
e maintained its impassive expression as Mrs Graeme introduced them.
It was only when Nicola said, 'Hullo,' very politely, that recollection and reco
gnition flickered briefly in the tawny eyes as Nicola's voice was recalled.
Denise's lips parted slightly and she looked ready to exclaim over Nicola's pres
ence. An instant later, her face was blandly smooth again as she said, 'How do y
ou do? I suppose Traugott Sorensen thought you were the next best thing to your
father!'
Ì hope the opinion proves justified,' Nicola com-mented drily.
Someone else entered the room. 'You get around so fast, Denise, that I can't kee
p up with you,' said Todd Baxter, flicking back a lock of floppy brown hair. His
eyes lighted on Nicola, and there was no concealment of his recognition. 'Why,
Nicola! What in the world are you doing up here? I was imagining you in Johan-ne
sburg, or wandering about the Magaliesberg. You should have let me know you'd be
in this area.'
`Hullo, Todd,' Nicola said indifferently. 'I didn't know your farm was in the So
utpansberg until Mr Sorensen told me last night.'
`She's here to paint Uncle Traugott,' Melanie added.
`How nice that you know each other,' Mrs Graeme said delightedly.
Denise glanced meaningly at Todd and nodded slightly in her. mother's direction.
'Yes, Todd, you ought to have told me you knew Nicola Prenn. You know how much
I admire her father.'
Todd looked at her sharply and apparently grasped the situation, because he smil
ed and said easily, 'Oh, I've known Robert Prenn for some time now, and I've met
Nicola occasionally when I've been visiting him in Johannesburg.'
'And you never told us,' Denise said reproachfully. `How selfish of you, Todd!'
She turned to Nicola. Ì've got a picture of your father's in my bedrooma view of
Cathkin Peak in the Drakensberg. Barak gave it to me for my last birthday. Woul
dn't you like to see it? I love it. Do come.'
Nicola took the hint. Denise wanted to talk to her out of Mrs Graeme's presence.
She excused herself and followed the tall slim girl from the room.
`What on earth is going on?' Denise demanded in her breathless young voice, once
they were out of ear-shot. 'I had no idea you were Nicola Prenn when I met you
the other night.'
Ì had no idea that the man you were with would turn out to be Barak Sorensen wi
th whom my father made arrangements for me to paint Traugott,' Nicola
retorted as she was ushered into a small but smart bed-room. The view of Cathkin
Peak was the first thing she noticed on entering. The boldly executed painting
was too large for such a small room, and shouldn't have been hidden away in a be
droom in any case, she thought. If she had owned it, she would have hung it some
where public so that its majesty could be shared.
`But what's the position?' Denise Graeme asked, lowering herself on to the bed i
n a gracefully liquid movement. 'I don't want my parents to know what oc-curred
last week.'
Ìf they find out, it won't be from me,' Nicola prom-ised the girl. Those two mi
ddle-aged people didn't de-serve to suffer any more worry than they already had.
Ànd Barak?' Denise persisted. 'You haven't told him what really happened, have
you?'
Òf course not,' Nicola replied impatiently. 'I don't want to cause trouble for
you.'
`Thanks,' Denise said casually. 'Silence is our policy, then. I'm grateful to yo
u, Nicola. I don't want any trouble to come between Barak and me. What I did on
New Year's Eve was in the nature of showing my hand. I wanted to spur him into a
ction. Unfortunately things got a bit out of hand with regard to Todd.'
Ì see,' Nicola answered, for want of anything better to say. She glanced at Den
ise's hands. Apart from the huge tiger's eye ring on the right hand, her fingers
were innocent of jewellery. Presumably the engagement was still unofficial, the
n, but very much taken for granted. What action was required of Barak? A definit
e pro-posal? Or was Denise trying to make him see her as an individual, rather t
han Vanessa's young sister? She
ought to be satisfied. He had gone chasing after her all the way to Johannesburg
, deserting his family on New Year's Eve.
Denise looked at her speculatively. `Your appearance is so different from what i
t was the other night. Did Barak recognise you?'
Nicola nodded. `He was so wholeheartedly con-vinced by the position in which you
found Todd and me on that veranda that I'm now under the black cloud of .his di
sapproval.'
`Poor you,' Denise gurgled. Ì can imagine ! It's not that he's narrow minded ab
out such things. He hasn't remained celibate by any means in reaching the age of
thirty-seven, but he's always felt sorry for Hilary Bax-ter, and of course, he
can't stand Todd.'
`Yet Todd is a visitor to your house?'
Denise shrugged. `Todd can be fun. I'll lose my freedom soon enough, when I marr
y Barak.'
Nicola frowned slightly. Things weren't as they should be, and she couldn't resi
st meddling. She said tentatively, Ìf you look on it that way, why rush into ma
rriage? You're only eighteen.'
Ì might lose him if I ask him to wait,' said Denise, her slim hands smoothing t
he skirt of her dress.
How terrible, not to be sure of your man, Nicola thought. `He's so very much old
er than you,' she com-mented thoughtfully.
Òh, the age gap in itself is of little account,' Denise dismissed it easily. 'A
fter all, he has the marriage of Ellen and Traugott for encouragement. Ellen is
fifteen years younger than her husband, and look how suc-cessful their marriage
has been. But Barak's age on its
own ... he wants a son, I suppose, and not too late in life. He's an impatient m
an, so I can't risk asking for a few years' freedom.'
If he loved her, he might wait, Nicola thought, although Barak Sorensen was the
sort of man to get his own way. But if it was merely the old, much-mocked male n
eed to perpetuate himself ... then yes, she could imagine that in asking for tim
e, Denise would lose him altogether, and some other woman would be chosen to pro
duce his heir. But wasn't it the memory of Vanessa that made him want Denise?
`How well do you know Todd?' Denise asked abruptly.
Às he said, we've met a few times at my father's house,' said Nicola. 'I can ha
rdly claim to know him well. There was our meeting on -New Year's Eve ... but ev
en under those circumstances, we parted im-mediately after you and Mr Sorensen h
ad gone.'
Ì see,' Denise said thoughtfully. 'Funny the way things work out ... when we we
re returning from Johannesburg, Barak told me he had talked to Robert Prenn on f
irst arriving at the party, and that they had arranged for his daughter to come
up and paint Trau-gott. Imagine it turning out to be you!'
Ìmagine,' Nicola repeated drily. 'Hadn't we better be getting back to the other
s? They'll be wondering why I'm taking so long to look at my father's picture.'
Denise stood up elegantly. 'It's fantastic, isn't it? Yes, I suppose we'd better
go ... We've agreed on silence then, have we?'
`Certainly,' Nicola assured her curtly. She took a last look at the lowering, po
tentially explosive gloom of the
mountain Robert Prenn had painted on some bleak evening, and wondered what the m
an, whose honesty spoke through his work, would say to the intricacies of decept
ion in which she had involved herself.
They returned to the lounge, to find Melanie de-sirous of leaving. 'We have to b
e back for lunch, and after that I'm going shopping in Louis Trichardt,' the lit
tle girl explained.
`We'd better go, then,' Nicola agreed.
Ì must be off too,' said Todd. 'I came over on foot, but you can give me a lift
, can't you, Nicola? It's on your way.'
It was the last thing she wanted to do, finding him such distasteful company, bu
t with Mrs Graeme look-ing on, she was forced to acquiesce.
`Then I'll have to sit in the back,' Melanie said sourly.
They said goodbye to Mrs Graeme and her daughter, and Nicola started the car, wi
th Todd beside her and Melanie on the back seat.
`What do you think of this backwater I've had to make my home?' Todd asked when,
they were on their way.
Ì'm enchanted,' Nicola said shortly. He hadn't had to make it his home. It was
only because Hilary Baxter had been a wealthy woman that he had obliged him-self
to live here, and even so, his trips to Johannesburg were frequent.
They didn't talk much on the journey and presently they approached a gate. Todd
indicated that it led to his wife's farm and Nicola stopped the car.
`Goodbye, Todd,' she said.
`Get out, Nicola,' he told her quietly.
`Why?'
He glanced significantly at Melanie, who stared back at him stonily. 'There are
things to be said.'
Reluctantly Nicola got out of the Volkswagen and they stood next to the gate.
Ì take it that Denise's mother is to remain in ignor-ance of the happenings on
New Year's Eve?'
`That's right,' Nicola said irritably. She was tired of feeling herself to be in
a web, and above all, she was tired of Todd Baxter.
Ànd Sorensen?'
`Well, obviously he must remain under the impres-sion that he gained, then,' she
said sarcastically. 'It was for his benefit, wasn't it?'
Ànd Denise's,' Todd said with a grin. 'Do we re-inforce that impression?'
`Definitely not,' said Nicola, aware of Melanie's in-curious stare. The child ha
d climbed into the front seat.
`Why not?' Todd drawled. 'You won't be spending all your time on painting that a
utocratic old man, will you? It's wonderful having you in the Soutpansberg. We c
ould have a good time together, Nicola.'
`Have your good times with Denise,' she retorted rudely. Then, 'Haven't you any
respect for her near-engagement ... or for your own marriage?'
His smile was unrepentant. 'Life is for living, Nicola darling. Denise is a nice
little girl and if she wants to use me to help bring Barak Sorensen up to scrat
ch, then I'm not objecting. She's very attractive.'
Ì feel sorry for her,' Nicola snapped, turning back
towards the car. 'One man is trying to make her a substitute for her dead sister
; the other is merely amus-ing himself at her expense. She'll probably end up wi
th a severe complex.'
Todd caught at her hands, arresting her progress. He laughed. 'Not Denise. You d
on't know her very well, Nicola. She knows exactly where she stands with both So
rensen and me, and the light in which we regard her, and she's not unsatisfied.
The situation suits her.'
Ìf she's satisfied, then why is she anxious about marrying Barak Sorensen?' Nic
ola argued. 'Please let go of my hands, Todd. Melanie and I have to get back to
the farm.'
'Not yet,' he said, as a gleaming station-wagon went past, travelling in the dir
ection of Louis Trichardt. `When can I see you again?'
`Never, I hope,' Nicola said bluntly. She succeeded in snatching her hands away
from him and returned to the car. 'Sorry about that,' she apologised to Melanie.
'That was Uncle Barak who went past,' Melanie in-formed her.
Nicola closed her eyes as she slammed the door. Damn! Had he seen them? Oh, drat
Todd Baxter! No one else had ever caused her so much embarrassment.
`Don't you like Mr Baxter?' Melanie asked.
'No,' said Nicola, too annoyed to put a guard on her tongue.
`Why were you holding his hands, then?'
Ì wasn'the was holding mine. There's a differ-ence.'
Òh.' Melanie thought about it for a while. 'Yes, I see,' she said finally, soun
ding satisfied.
Nicola had managed to calm down by the time they reached the farm and sat down t
o lunch with Ellen and Traugott.
`Barak had to go into Louis Trichardt,' Ellen ex-plained. 'Perhaps he passed you
when you were on your way home from the Graemes'?'
Melanie said, 'Yes; he waved to me.'
Nicola looked at the child curiously. There had been no mention of what the circ
umstances had been at the time of Barak's passing them. Melanie's grey eyes, as
they met hers, were limpid and guileless, so that Nicola's cheeks turned pink. M
elanie would regard it as being Nicola's prerogative to explain what had been ha
ppening, and in her silence, Nicola set an example of passive deception.
Yet wasn't the child herself engaging in the same thing? Another child might hav
e qualified Melanie's brief statement by describing the place and the action, gi
ving little thought to whether silence might not be more tactful.

After the meal, when Ellen and Melanie had set off for Louis Trichardt, Nicola d
ecided to make the most of the ring of entrancing views surrounding the elegant
farmhouse. She was not to work on the portrait in the afternoons, and Traugott h
ad wandered out of the house after lunch was overin order, he explained, to exami
ne the strawberry patch which was one of the great interests of his retirement.
She would start painting the mountain behind the house, paint it warmed by the s
un. It was a rugged
enough feature of the land for her taste, while escaping the towering, almost op
pressive grandeur of the Drakensberg her father loved to paint and she could not
, because she lacked a greatness in her art which Robert possessed, so that for
him, nothing was too big to be the subject of his talent, nothing too ambitious.
But this roughly hewn mountain rising above the house was for her ... she would
avoid the claustrophobia engendered by the Drakensberg, such a mass of land, bu
t all rising upwards instead of spreading outwards.
As always Nicola worked vigorously, driven by the sense of urgency which came wh
en there was a canvas to be filled and a view before her. She was working from t
he lawn between the house and the gum-trees, unconscious of the living sounds ab
out her, so that she was startled when a shadow fell over her shoulder, and her
hand wavered in executing what ought to have been a firm stroke of brown.
She turned her head sharply to confront the un-amused grey eyes which regarded h
er. Nicola was im-mediately conscious of her untidy appearance. She had changed
into the pair of jeans which had been her standard wear when she had been at art
school, and her loose top had once been an attractive shade of green, but long
hours spent working in the sun had faded it and her paint brushes had been appli
ed more than once to its front. Her shining hair was caught back at the nape of
her neck, but straggling wisps had escaped, making her look much younger than he
r twenty-three years.
`You gave me a fright,' she said accusingly.
Ì beg your pardon,' said Barak Sorensen. He glanced
casually at what she had painted so far. 'Does this take priority over Todd Baxt
er?'
Ì told you that he meant nothing to me now,' said Nicola, not quite capable of
commanding the defiance of tone she had deemed suitable to the remark. She thoug
ht she knew what was coming.
`Yes?' The one sardonic word called her a liar. 'So you did. I had hoped, for Hi
lary's sake, that it was true.'
Ànd you know that it wasn't?'
`We appear to understand each other,' he said coldly. Ì wondered if you had not
iced me, and thought per-haps that only Melanie had done so. Miss Prenn, I have
no wish whatsoever to interfere in an affair that doesn't concern me, but when I
think of my niece being forced to witness ... In future, if you make an assigna
tion with Baxter, please be good enough to arrange it for a time when Melanie is
not present.'
`Yes, sir,' she murmured, not intending him to hear, but he did.
`You find a child's involvement amusing?'
`Certainly not. But she wasn't involved. What hap-pened this morning was unavoid
able.'
`Nothing is unavoidable,' Barak stated in a con-trolled voice which belied the a
nger she sensed in him.
`To gods perhaps ... but not to mere mortals,' Nicola retorted. 'What are you so
worried about? I won't be here long enough to influence Melanie in any way. You
need have no fear of her morals being ex-posed to my corruptive example.'
`Who said anything about morality? It's a question of people's feelings. Melanie
might quite easily let
Hilary Baxter know that you and her husband are hav-ing an affair.'
`Todd and I are not having an affair,' Nicola stated quietly. 'But is it wise fo
r Mrs Baxter to remain in ignorance of the sort of life Todd is leading? The lon
ger illusions are fostered, the more painful the awakening will be.'
Ì doubt if Mrs Baxter has any illusions about her husband,' Barak said cynicall
y. 'I should think she knows him better than anyone else. But she does have a mo
dicum of pride, and that's what I'm thinking of. A child won't be concerned abou
t who is presentshe'll just speak out in any company.'
`Not Melanie,' Nicola said with a short laugh. 'She's a very old little person.
She could have mentioned ... what .you saw to Mrs Sorsensen at lunch today, when
she asked if we had seen you go past, but she kept her counsel.'
`Had you asked her to? I won't have the child trained in deception.'
`You misjudge me, Mr Sorensen. I've no idea of Melanie's motives, but her silenc
e on the subject was not the result of any prompting from me.' Nicola sighed and
added with her customary honesty, 'It made me feel guilty.'
His eyes were speculative as they searched her face. Ìs that true?'
`Why shouldn't it be?'
`You haven't given me any reason to think of you as a truthful person, have you?
' he said. 'You told me last night that your affair with Baxter was a thing of t
he past, but today I drive past the pair of you holding
hands at the gate of Hilary's farm. What if she had driven out on her way to tow
n? Didn't you think of that?'
`You said she had no illusions about Todd,' Nicola retaliated in a flat tired vo
ice. She stared miserably at the buttons of the soft blue shirt he was wearing.
Oh, if only she could make him believe that her mythical affair with Todd was fi
nished ! That there had been an affair, existing still on New Year's Eve, he mus
t continue to believe, because she had made a pro-mise to Denise Graeme. But to
continue to live a lie, a lie forced on her ... it was unthinkable. She couldn't
have this man thinking that she was still engaged in an affair with Todd Baxter
... in Hilary Baxter's home territory. Oh, not because she cared what Barak's o
pinion of her might be, Nicola assured herself, but be-cause ... the deceit in w
hich she had involved herself was intolerable to her.
So she said, 'I told you the truth last night. What you saw this morning ... wel
l, haven't you heard of lingering and painful deaths?' She managed a rueful smil
e.
`That isn't the way it happens,' Barak said harshly. `The way you talk ... I thi
nk you know very little about love, Nicola.'
Òh, love, love,' she said scornfully. 'What is it about love, when you think of
all ...' She was incoherent, and she paused to allow her angry hazel eyes to sw
eep over the big brown mountain, the other blue faraway moun-tains, the tall tre
es and smooth expanses of grass. `When you think of all that there is in the wor
ld, the magnitude of the solid earth masses, and the greatWALK IN THE SHADOWS 89
nesses that aren't love, aren't even human ... then isn't love a very small thin
g, a very petty thing? There's more, much more than love ! There's Abruptly she
lifted her eyes to the brown mountain again, then lowered them to her canvas. Sh
e drew a strong finger viciously through the paint, smearing brown and red, as s
he had often done before when fingers seemed to give more to her art than a brus
h could. 'Much more,' she reiterated.
Barak shook his head and his eyes were a darker grey than she had seen them befo
re. His voice was still harsh as he said, 'You're just a child, then, untouched
by love ... that which possesses the soul. Otherwise you wouldn't talk that way.
It's very clever, and artists and poets and musicians do it a lot, but I don't
think even the truly great ones mean it. And you're a good artist, Nicola, but n
ever a great one. You can't match your father. You mean what you say now, becaus
e you don't know otherwise. You don't know love. I don't know what your life-sty
le is. You may have had in-numerable lovers ... but you can't have loved, or you
wouldn't talk that way. You're totally unawakened.'
She was angry, because he made her feel so young, and it was all true anyway. Sh
e was untouched by love. There had never been any experience of it, either physi
cally or spiritually, because her passions were always feeble flames, quenched e
ven before they could begin to demand fulfilment. She said sharply, 'You don't u
nderstand what it is to be driven ... as I am.'
`By your art? It's just a career. Oh, it may possess you, and I can understand t
hat. It isn't only the arts that have that powerthe land has it too; it can lift
a
man up or drag him down, but that possession is not supreme.'
Ànd you who know so much of love,' she taunted outrageously. 'Don't even you ma
ke it shoddy by seek-ing to replace the loved one with the sister? Even Melanie
... I think you only care for her because she looks like Vanessa, because she's
Vanessa's child. She probably senses it and that's what makes her so strange and
serious.'
His eyes were very dangerous, and again she thought how the colour of them had c
hanged. They were dark, smouldering with something Nicola couldn't quite compreh
end.
Èvidently Ellen has taken you through every step of our lives,' Barak said roug
hly. 'How can a child like you possibly begin to understand? So kindly withhold
ypur opinions in future. You've no right to an explana-tion, but yes, I loved Va
nessa ten years ago when she was eighteen. We had an affair, but when it came to
marriage ... Karl wasn't a farmer. But you do me an injustice if you think my f
eeling for Melanie is based solely on Vanessa's memory. I love the child for her
own sake, and you can have no idea of the factors that have gone into moulding
her into the strange person you find her.' He made no mention of Denise.
Nicola by now was feeling horrified by what she had said, by the personal remark
s she had made and by the man's reaction.
She put a hand to her trembling lips and said shakily, Ì'm sorry, Barak; I had
no right to say such things to you. I can't possibly know the circumstances, and
anyway, it's no business of mine '
His dark face was 'totally expressionless, but Nicola knew it would be a long ti
me before she forgot what had passed between them a few seconds earlier, be-fore
the memory of his anger would be dimmed.
`Then we understand each other. My life and emotions don't concern you, and I ha
ve no interest in your affair with Baxter, as it was, or is.'
`Was,' she said, because she wanted him to believe that.
`Very well,' he said. He turned to go, then suddenly faced her again. His smile
was sardonic. 'You might say that we have communicated this afternoon, even if i
t took the form of disagreement on a highly emotive level.'
He strode away from her, a tall man going up to-wards the windmill, and Nicola s
tared after him, her hazel eyes oddly blank.
She drew a deep, shaking breath and turned back to her canvas, but its hold on h
er had been loosened and she was no longer its .captive. She made an effort, but
the mountain had lost the magic it had held for her, and the encounter with Bar
ak Sorensen had left her feeling drained and exhausted, so presently she packed
up and returned to the house.
They had called each other by their first names, she realised as she changed out
of the old jeans and faded top.
At dinner that night, the man had reverted to his customary distant manner when
addressing Nicola, and she was annoyed to find herself feeling chagrined because
of it. In his eyes she had again become in-significant, a mere cipher, evoking
little interest in him,
and it proved unexpectedly disappointing for Nicola. After the small spark that
had flared briefly as a result of verbal collision that afternoon, she felt that
there ought to have been something more now ... But there was nothing, not even
a brief flicker of stirring interest in the icy grey eyes which occasionally ca
me to rest on her face with hurtful indifference.
Because she was annoyed, Nicola's resentment of him was heightened, but even as
she entertained un-complimentary thoughts about him, there kept re-turning to he
r the oddly distracting memory of the way he had spoken, with darkened grey eyes
, of Melanie's mother. She didn't understand him, and some measure of frustratio
n rested on her now, leaving her with a feeling of bewilderment.
Butoh, what did it matter? Nicola shrugged mentally. Presumably Barak Sorensen ha
d suffered over Vanessa, but for all that he was a strange, in-tolerant man. He
was hard, and she didn't like him. There were others close to him who might be a
ble to reach him; but with sudden insight-she realised that he was a man who wou
ld never ask for anything, never admit to needing anything : he would only endea
vour to provide his own help, and in this matter, he sought to make Denise Graem
e a substitute for Vanessa.
She wondered how deeply Denise's likeness to Vanessa went. What had Vanessa been
like? It was possible that Denise's resemblance to her older sister had been bu
ilt up in the minds of these people in the four years since Vanessa's death, the
consequence of clinging morbidly to a memory, ever seeking re-minders.
Barak rose early from the table, informing his as-sembled relatives that he was
going over to visit the Graeme family and he didn't know when he would be back.
`Have they found that dog suspected of having rabies yet?' Traugott asked just b
efore Barak left.
`Not yet. Of course, it may be miles away by now,' Barak said. 'But I don't want
Melanie roaming about on her own as she usually does until we've heard they've
found the animal.'
Nicola spent a quiet evening in the lounge with Ellen and Traugott. Quite early
on, the telephone rang and Sarah came to call Nicola.
Surprised, Nicola went into the hall and picked up the receiver.
`Hullo?'
`Nicola? It's Todd here,' said the voice which she was beginning to find a sourc
e of irritation.
`What do you want?' she demanded rudely.
She heard him laugh at the other end of the line. `That's a charming way to spea
k to an old friend! I thought you might be feeling out of place in this alien te
rritory, and as I'm someone you knew in Jo'burg, I thought I'd cheer you up.'
`Don't be ridiculous,' she snapped. 'This isn't the South Pole and I'm not going
to spend the rest of my life here.'
`Lucky you; it's just what I might have to do,' said Todd. 'Look, how about my c
oming over to the farm? I happen to know that Sorensen is with Denise this eveni
ng, so I'm at a loose end.'
`You have a wife, remember,' snapped Nicola. 'And
thanks very much, Todd, but I've no desire to provide you with my company just b
ecause Denise isn't avail-able for the evening. Why don't you leave that girl al
one, anyway? She's practically engaged to Barak. Doesn't your ego object to bein
g second best with her?'
Ì wouldn't be so foolish as to jib at accepting the crumbs that fall from the r
ich man's table,' Todd re-plied with a laugh. 'So shall I come over, Nicola darl
-ing?'
`No,' she said shortly. 'And I mean that, Todd. If you turn up here, I shall ref
use to see you. I've had enough of you to last me a lifetime !'
She put the receiver down without troubling to say goodbye, and returned to the
lounge.
Ellen looked up from the chessboard over which she and her husband were ponderin
g. 'Was that your father ringing from the city, Nicola?'
Nicola hesitated, then shook her head. 'It was Todd Baxter. He's acquainted with
my father, and I've met him a few times in Johannesburg. He knew I was here, so
he rang up.' It was as honest as she could make it, and Nicola wanted nothing m
ore to do with deceit.
`You'll probably be seeing him while you're here then,' Ellen told her 'At the b
raaivleis on Saturday, at any rate I think he and Hilary have been invited.'
Braaivleis?'
`Didn't we tell you?' said Traugott. 'It's for Melanie's sake, really; to make u
p for Barak's having to miss the New Year's Eve affair we had here. She was so d
isappointed and we promised her this.'

Ìt won't be a big affair,' Ellen said. 'Ilse and Peter and the children will be
coming from Messina for the
weekend. They'll leave after Peter finishes work on Friday evening. Let me seewho
else is coming, Traugott? There'll be the Baxters, the Graemes ... oh, and seve
ral other parties ... and you, of course, Nicola.'
`Thank you,' smiled Nicola. 'But will it be a dressy sort of braai, or the tradi
tional use-your-fingers-and-wear-jeans sort?'
Ellen looked thoughtful. 'We'll be having it a little way up the hill. The young
er women have usually worn a long skirt or something of that sort when we've had
a braai in the past, haven't they, Traugott?'
don't remember,' said Traugott. 'Perhaps you're right, Ellen. I seem to remember
young Denise in something like that ... but she'd look charming in any-thing. B
eautiful girl, Denise.'
Yes, her beauty was part of the charm, Nicola thought later that night when she
was awoken by the _sound of a car arriving. Barak, she supposed. She heard a clo
ck chiming sweetly somewhere in the house ..,. one o'clock.
CHAPTER FOUR
FOR the next two mornings, Nicola worked hard at Traugott's portrait, anxious no
t to waste time. Ellen gave them a flask of coffee to take up the hill with them
, so that they need not lose valuable time walking back to the house for refresh
ment. Traugott carried a rifle with him because, he explained, the rabid dog's w
here96 WALK IN THE SHADOWS
abouts remained unknown, although a local man thought he had spotted the animal
moving west from the top of a neighbouring hill which he had climbed while engag
ed in birdwatching activities.
Nicola had begun the portiait tentatively, but as she became immersed in the fam
iliar urgent need to fill the canvas, she started to work with all her customary
enthusiasm, urged on by an eager desperation. At times, drawing back from the n
eed for a whole picture which was her spur, she was afraid Traugott might be tir
ed, but when she questioned him, he assured her that he felt fine, and he never
complained.
be sure to let you know if anything is wrong,' he told her when she remarked on
it.
Ì never expected that you would prove such an easy subject,' she teased him. 'W
hy, you're quite docile ! I thought you'd be a tiger.'
Àch, so?' Traugott laughed. 'Perhaps I have mel-lowed in recent years. Now it t
akes a great deal to turn me into the tiger. You learn patience along with the y
ears.'
While actually working, Nicola never doubted her ability or the success of the p
ortrait, but at odd moments, studying it, she was assailed by doubts, afraid tha
t it wasn't going to be any good. Then she would want to start all over again. B
ut Nicola, however, was wise to herself by now; it had happened so many times be
fore. She couldn't judge the work until it was finished. And Traugott Sorensen,
with his healthy complexion, thick white hair and startlingly blue eyes in conju
nction with the fine figure he was and the high-bred sculpting of his features,
was at least someone in
whom she could take an interest and thus enjoy paint-ing.
On the Friday afternoon, Melanie came to Nicola on the enclosed veranda between
their bedrooms.
`Hullo,' Nicola said with a smile as the child planted herself in front of her.
She still found the solemn countenance a barrier against any attempt to know the
little girl. It was impossible to read the smoothly ex-quisite face, because no
thing was ever written there, and the shadowy grey eyes spoke only of mysteries
and secrets.
`Hullo, Nicola,' Melanie answered politely. 'What are you doing?'
Nicola indicated the sketches of Traugott on her lap. 'I'm just having a look at
these.'
'Why?'
Ìf I study them, it helps me when I'm painting your uncle.'
Òh.' Melanie considered the statement. 'How does
it do that?'
Nicola spread her hands. 'Oh, Melanie, it's hard to explain. I suppose that by s
tudying, these sketches, I can fix in my mind what's required for the painting .
.. I like to be very sure, so that there's no hesitation when I'm working.'
`Do you have to go on looking at them right now?' Nicola was puzzled. 'No, it's
not essential. I can do it any time. Why?'
`Nicola?' Melanie paused.
`What is it?' Nicola said kindly because for once Melanie had sounded doubtful.
`Could you come for a walk with me?' Melanie re98 WALK IN THE SHADOWS
quested gravely. Then she hurried on, 'You see, I promised Uncle Barak I wouldn'
t go out far from the house on my ownbecause of that dog, you know? The one with
rabies. Wouldn't it be awful if Donkey got rabies? He'd have to die then.'
`Horrible,' Nicola agreed. 'Very well, Melanie, I'll come for a walk with you. D
o you want to go right now?'
`Yes, please,' said Melanie. 'Thank you very much, Nicola.'
She was a very polite little girl, but Nicola thought an extra measure of casual
ness would have rendered her more like other children of her age. She was so ver
y solemn.
`Where are we going?' she asked as they left the house.
Ùp the hill a little. You don't mind, do you?' Melanie queried, sounding slight
ly anxious. 'Would you rather go another way?'
Òf course not,' Nicola assured her. 'This whole farm is so beautiful that it ma
kes no difference where one goes.'
`But some places are better than others,' Melanie stated with assurance. 'Like t
he windmill, and the trees where you first saw me the other day. You might have
run me over if you hadn't been going slowly.'
`Yes,' Nicola agreed drily. 'It was silly of you to run across the road like tha
t.'
Ì know,' Melanie confessed expressionlessly. She reverted to the subject of the
farm. 'One of the nicest things is when we go up to the top of the mountain. Th
e very top. Sometimes we have a picnic up there,
and there's short grass and we sit on it, under the trees, and there's always a
hot wind blowing, and we look over the other side.'
It sounds wonderful,' Nicola commented. Idyllic, she thought. So nice and normal
.
`But today,' Melanie continued, 'I feel like walking up the hill. It's hard, and
either you go fast and get tired quickly, or you walk slowly and your legs hurt
, and you feel as if you're pushing against something all the time, and it's try
ing to push you back downwards. But I like to do hard things sometimes, things t
hat make me tired. Do you ever have that feeling?'
`Quite often,' said Nicola. 'Usually when I'm in a temper.'
But Melanie wouldn't be in a temper when she did it, not this stolid, stoical yo
ung girl. Did she ever feel enraged, or was there always the calm acceptance of
whatever came her way? Perhaps the blows fate had already dealt her had taught h
er that passionate feel-ings were of little use. Things happened, and no amount
of argument could change them.
Ùncle Barak is just the same. I'm not, though,' Melanie confided. She cast Nico
la a sidelong glance. `What puts you in a temper?'
Nicola laughed softly. 'Oh, all sorts of things ; in-justice; cruelty; people wh
o insist on voicing their own opinions but aren't prepared to give anyone else w
ith different views a hearing; blind people who simply won't see wrong where it
exists ... and many other things. I'm afraid I must be intolerant myself, there'
s so much that annoys me.'
`Why,' Melanie said slowly, and she actually

sounded surprised, 'you're just like Uncle Barak! Ex-actly the same. I never tho
ught you were till now.' Nicola blushed, unable to say anything.
Melanie digressed again. 'Ilse is coining tonight. She's Aunt Ellen's daughter,
but her name is Lewis because she's married to Peter. They often come for a week
end, and then I'm allowed to stay up until they arrive on Friday nights. They've
got two children, Martin and Erika. Martin is ten and Erika eight, so I'm the o
ne in the middle. Erika sleeps in my room, and sometimes we stay awake for a ver
y long time, and we make up stories for each other. Do you think you'll like the
m?'
Ì can't say, but I think I will,' Nicola said honestly. `Do you like Aunt Ellen
?'
`Yes, very much.'
Ànd do you like Uncle Traugott?'
Àlso yes.'
Ànd do you like Uncle Barak?'
Ì ... yes,' Nicola lied.
She didn't like Barak Sorensen. She resented him. Did she even respect him? Admi
re him? He invoked in her a feeling of nervousness and also, when she re-called
some of their exchanges, confusion. What else? Nicola found it hard to decide wh
at she felt about him.
Ànd' She was distracted from her thoughts by the suddenly and amazingly mischiev
ous tone that Melanie's voice had taken on. `Do you like me, Nicola?'
Nicola smiled down at her. 'Yes ... but I don't know you very well, do I? You're
not easy to understand.' For the first time she saw a fleeting half-smile, inWALK IN THE SHADOWS 101
finitely sweet, cross the child's smooth face, evanescent and wholly bewitching
in its very transience.
Ì think you understand,' Melanie said sedately. 'I'm not really strange as ever
yone says I am. I just don't like talking unless I have to. Sometimes it can be
awk-ward when I feel I must talk. Like in class at school.'
`Don't I know it ! ' Nicola exclaimed with rueful memory. She was now wholly cap
tivated by Melanie, who had partially thawedenough to reveal that she was a persp
icacious young person. She knew how people thought of her; the odd one who didn'
t talk much.
They walked in the shadow of a very high wall which ran vertically up a wide gra
ssy slope, a part of the farm Nicola had not yet seen.
`What's on the other side of the wall, Melanie?' Nicola asked.
`Nothing much at first, then Uncle Traugott's straw-berry patch,' said Melanie.
They walked on beside the high wall, Melanie con-tinuing her new game. Did Nicol
a like Granny Graeme? And Auntie Denise?
Òh !' Nicola interrupted suddenly as the still peace-fulness of the wide grassy
slope was destroyed by the tan streak hurling itself towards them. 'What's that
?'
`Nicola! ' Melanie's voice contained horror. 'It's that dog! It's got rabies ! '
Nicola could see that. Her heart seemed to stop and turn over.
`We can't run,' Melanie added desperately. 'What can we do?'
`Get over the wall,' Nicola commanded, despera102 WALK IN THE SHADOWS
don sharpening her wits. There was so little time and the sick beast was crossin
g the slope at an unnaturally rapid pace.
Ì can't,' Melanie wailed. 'It's too high !'
Ì'll help you. Quickly, Melanie!' Nicola helped to hoist the child up, strainin
g every muscle to make the required effort. 'Get over and run back to the house.
' She shoved at Melanie's rear end and was rewarded by a winding kick in the che
st.
Her thought processes seemed to speed up in re-sponse to the urgency of the situ
ation. Rabies ... did you die if you were bitten? No, you couldn't ... or could
you? She had heard of a man who was bitten; he hadn't died, but there had been p
ainful stomach in-jections ... Or was that bilharzia? No, you got that from the
rivers. Rabies was hydrophobia ... surely you didn't die?

Nevertheless, Nicola found herself repeating aloud the comforting familiar words
of childhood, 'Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hou
r of our death ...'
Ì'm up !' Melanie shouted as she gained a hold on the top of the wall. 'Come on
, quickly, Nicola!'
`There isn't time,' Nicola gasped, adding urgently, `go on, Melanie, get back to
the house and tell them!'
The dog was so near now, she could see its eyes, its tan fur, and the foaming mo
uth which indicated the madness.
`Hail Mary ...'
At the last moment she flung herself aside, in a for-lorn attempt to escape this
horror ... There was a thud, and a sickening crunch as the impetus of the dog,
unchecked, hurled it against the wall.
Disbelieving, Nicola stared down at the unconscious animal. Concussed. She giggl
ed weakly in reaction and closed her eyes. But how long would the senselessness
endure?
Melanie had gone, long ago. A moment later Nicola's long slim legs were running
down the hill. She ran blindly in the direction of the farmhouse, stumbling slig
htly on unevenness concealed by the grass. She ran, with the terrible fear in he
r that any moment now the animal would recover and come pelt-ing after her ... d
own the hill.
She gained the kitchen door and paused, breathing hard. There was nothing behind
her.
There were voices from within, Melanie shouting, and then Traugott and Barak, bo
th carrying rifles, came out, Melanie following, while the maid Sarah at-tempted
to haul her back into the kitchen.
`Nicola!' Barak exclaimed as he caught sight of her. `What happened? Where's the
dog?'
`He knocked himself out, running into the high wall,' Nicola gasped painfully. '
Oh, do something quickly ! He may come round at any minute. I ran all the way.'
`Thank you.' He glanced at the maid. 'Sarahsee to them.'
Then he and Traugott had gone and Sarah was drawing Nicola into the kitchen and
embracing her and insisting on making tea.
`You are shockedMelanie too. You must sit down in the lounge and I will bring you
tea.'
Melanie, completely shaken out of her habitual calm,
couldn't even stop talking in order to drink the tea when they were settled in t
he lounge. Ellen was out, so Sarah remained to hover over them both, demanding t
o be told that they were all right.
Ì think so,' Nicola said breathlessly, attempting a smile.
`But how did it happen, Nicola?' Melanie persisted in asking.
Ì ... I stepped aside when he hurled himself at me and he hit the wall,' said N
icola, still hardly believing recent events.
`Weren't you scared?'
`Terrified,' Nicola said drily.
Ìmagine ! You were so lucky ... Aunt Ellen will say it was providence,' said Me
lanie, sounding impressed.
Ìt was a miracle,' Nicola said shortly, giving silent thanks for the indeed mir
aculous fact that she was sit-ting here in this beautiful room, with her father'
s view of Knysna on the wall, and drinking tea, untouched by the beast which had
hurled itself at her such a short while before.
Melanie seemed wholly unshocked by what had hap-pened, although she was visibly
impressed by the brief drama and the escape they had both had. However, she admi
tted, 'I was so frightened, trying to climb over the wallit's awfully high. If yo
u hadn't pushed so hard I'd never have reached the top. I tore my jeans. I hope
Aunt Ellen will buy me some new ones. Blue again, I think.'
Ì expect she will,' Nicola said absently. There would be no talk of mending the
rentin this house-hold they didn't have to economise, she thought wryly.
Ì kicked something, going over,' Melanie continued. Was it you?'
Ìt was indeed. Right in the chest,' Nicola said with a weak giggle. Then she gr
ew sombre. 'Don't let's dis-cuss it any more, Melanie.'
`That's right,' Sarah said approvingly. 'You talk about something else now.'
Melanie's dark grey eyes rested briefly on Nicola. `Does it make you feel horrib
le to think of it?' she en-quired, and Nicola nodded. 'O.K., I won't talk about
it again, but can't I just quickly phone two of my friends so that they can hear
? And when I tell Martin and Erika tonight, I'll make sure you can't hear. Maybe
I'll make it my story for Erika when we go to bed. D'you think she'll believe i
t?'
`You'll probably give her nightmares,' Nicola re-torted.
Melanie ran out to the hall and presently Nicola could hear her talking away int
o the telephone.
Nicola sat in a deep comfortable chair, but she re-mained tense, remembering the
horror of the moment when the dog had flung itself at her. Then she thought of
Barak and Traugott, and her heart stood still for the second time that day. Why
hadn't they returned yet? Suppose the dog had regained consciousness? They had r
ifles with them, but anything might go wrong ...
She would have worked herself up into a panic if Barak himself hadn't entered th
e lounge just then. He was no longer carrying his rifle and he looked grim.
Èverything is well,' Sarah assured him, turning to exit the room.
`Thank you, Sarah,' he said courteously. 'That
animal won't worry anyone again. Traugott is fetch-ing a couple of the men.'
Sarah nodded and left them. Nicola stood up.
`Nicola,' Barak said rather oddly, and she saw that his grey eyes had darkenedyet
they remained un-readable.
Àll right, all right,' she said shakily, but forcing her-self to feel resentmen
t because she needed to defend. She always did where he was concerned. 'You don'
t need to tell me how I endangered your niece's life by allowing her to go so fa
r from the house. I'm just a poor fool in these surroundings, it seems. I can't
do anything right,' she concluded bitterly.
Ùncle Barak, Nicola was brave,' came Melanie's calm voice as the child returned
from the hall.
`Thank you, Melanie,' he said tightly, repressively.
`She helped me get over the wall,' Melanie con-tinued insistently, 'while all th
e time that horrible dog was tearing down the slope towards us. Oh, I do hope Do
nkey never gets rabies !'
`That will do, Mel,' Barak said impatiently, noticing that Nicola had grown even
paler. He stepped towards her and grasped her bare arms. 'Perhaps you are just
a poor fool, Nicola, but' He shrugged, suddenly thoughtful.
Nicola lifted heavy lids from her hazel eyes, still un-certain of his mood.
He went on, 'Thank you for what you did, Nicola.'
Ìt ... I wasn't thinking about anything at all when it happened. Oh, it was hor
rible !' Nicola finished, and burst into tears.
`Poor Nicola,' said Melanie in tragic tones.
She found herself drawn, just briefly, against a lean hard body by the hands tha
t had gripped her arms, but the contact was impersonal, as was the voice which a
dvised, 'Nicola, stop crying. I really can't stand weep-ing women, you know. Mel
anie, I hear Ellen's car. Go and tell her what's happened, and say Nicola needs
her.'
Àll right.'
Nicola discovered that her knees were shaking, and it was no longer due to react
ion, but the result of Barak's nearness, for although he was no longer touch-ing
her, he still stood very close. Knowing herself to be suddenly vulnerable, she
moved away from him and, making an effort, stopped crying.
`Sorry,' she muttered, embarrassed.
`That's all right,' he said drily. 'Incidentally, Melanie appears to be totally

unaffected by what happened, unless you count her being more animated than usual
. As I said, thank you, Nicola.'
For a fleeting moment there was something in the grey eyes that puzzled her. The
n it was gone and she was feeling the familiar need to attack in order to con-ce
al the nervousness he somehow instilled.
Òh, you mustn't let gratitude or whatever it is alter your opinion of me,' she
lashed out.
Ànd what is my opinion of you?' he enquired quietly, and everything was back to
normal.
Nicola turned her back on him. 'Unfavourable, to say the least,' she said.
`Quite wrong, Nicola,' he replied. 'I don't hold any opinion where you are conce
rned. Emotionally, at any
rate, you're just a child and, as such, you hold little interest for me.'
Strangely, that hurt more than if he had said he hated her. She faced him again.
'Thank you,' she said with tremulous anger. 'You're very polite, aren't you? Ho
wever, I'm glad to know I don't interest you in any way. It's very boring when s
omeone you don't like per-sists in taking an interest.'
Ì didn't say you don't interest me in any way,' he reproved her. 'I meant that
emotionally you don't interest me. Nevertheless, you're a very attractive girl.'
His eyes, narrowed, travelled slowly down from her face to her slim waist and h
ips, and Nicola felt her cheeks grow warm.
Ì wonder if you know how insulting that is,' she snapped, taking a step backwar
ds. `To dismiss a woman's mind while maintaining an interest in her as a physica
l entity ... I know it's often true enough, but to actually tell her so is the h
eight of tactlessness. Better to pretend you're indifferent to her in every way.
'
`So you do have some sort of code which you apply to your relationships? Was Bax
ter interested in your mind? Did he give a damn about your soul?'
`You know nothing about it,' Nicola stated dis-missively.
`Perhaps not, but I do know that if your affair with him had involved the emotio
ns, you wouldn't speak of it in the manner you have done.'
`What has my manner of speaking to do with it? My relationship with Todd was a p
ersonal matter, not something to be discussed with all and sundry.' Nicola stopp
ed, realising that, ridiculously, she was arguing
about nothing, merely for the sake of it. After all, there hadn't even been an a
ffair with Todd, emotional or otherwise. Oh, why did Barak Sorensen always have
to make her feel so antagonistic? The episode with the dog entirely forgotten, s
he found herself wondering what the reaction would be if she suddenly became all
sweetness and light in her dealings with him. Her mouth curved at the idea. He
might be surprised; he would certainly be suspicious, after the hostility which
had so far coloured all their encounters.
`What's amusing you?' he asked, appraising her sardonically.
`Just my thoughts,' she replied, her hazel eyes limpid.
Òbviously.'
`Please don't be concerned. My amusement wasn't at your expense,' Nicola assured
him gently.
His dark face was sphinx-like in its impassivity. 'I'm not concerned.'
Ì'm so glad,' she said sedately.
Ànother image, Nicola? Butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, but you could be a w
itch,' he said softly, and the cold grey eyes were dangerous.
`Then you'd better take care, hadn't you? Where can you find a clove of garlic?
I might cast a spell on you.' He laughed. 'I'm immune.'
Yes, he would be; hardened to any influence other than his own, Nicola thought w
ith a sigh. One experi-ence had embittered him, and now no one could lay emotion
s on him or touch his soul. He would fashion his own happiness and sorrow, indep
endent of the world.
Ellen entered then, very concerned about Nicola, who was glad when Barak left th
e lounge.
Melanie, who had come in with her great-aunt, asked gravely, 'Are you feeling be
tter now, Nicola?'
`Yes, thank you,' Nicola said, smiling. It was true. The brief parrying with Bar
ak Sorensen had pushed the afternoon's earlier events to the back of her mind, a
nd she was confident that in time they would recede to become only a vague and i
ntermittent remembrance of fear.
The Lewis family arrived from Messina after dinner that night. Nicola had intend
ed to slip away, feeling it to be a time for the family only, but when she would
have taken herself off to her room, Ellen protested :
Òh, you must stay and meet use and her family, Nicola.'
So Nicola remained. She caught Barak's sardonic glance as she sat down again and
remembered his say-ing that it would be easy for her to take advantage of Ellen
and Traugott. That had been on her first night here ... Nicola drifted into a d
ream, recollecting all that had happened in the few days she had been on the far
m. There had been so much involving the emotions, and so much anger. She wasn't
used to it. Previously her existence had been on a smooth, ordered plain, un-clu
ttered by the confusions she had found here. The deceptions too, which had been
forced on her. She must finish Traugott's portrait as soon as possible, in order
to escape the choking muddle to which these people had brought her usually clea
r-cut emotions.
She found she liked the Lewis family immediately, and they, in their turn, accep
ted her presence easily.
use Lewis, in her mid-thirties, was very like Ellen, and Peter, a few years olde
r, was a pleasantly quiet man, while their pigeon pair had inherited their mothe
r's fair hair and Peter's brown eyes, and were a lively two-some.
Watching them quietly as they all sat together in the lounge, Nicola was struck
by the congeniality of the situation. It was so very much a family gathering, wi
th the three children sprawled inelegantly on the couch, and the adults sitting
in comfortable chairs, talking with the ease instilled by long familiarity. It w
as a happy scene really; you couldn't guess that there was a child who had lost
her parents tragically, and that the tall man had long ago lost the girl he had
loved. This was the first night Barak had stayed in since the even-ing of her ar
rival, Nicola realised.
They didn't sit long. Peter had undertaken the drive from Messina immediately af
ter finishing work for the week, and freely admitted that bed was the most pleas
ant thing he could think of just then.
In her own rooms Nicola bathed and slipped into the delightfully frivolous short
nightie which was a delicate shade of apricot and had been a Christmas present
from Alison, her sister-in-law. She got into bed and opened Guy de Maupassant's
short stories, but found she wasn't in the mood for reading. She picked up her s
ketches of Traugott from the exquisitely carved antique night table beside her w
ide bed, and tried to concentrate on studying them.
She was oddly restless tonight and was unable to fathom the reason for it. The a
fternoon's excitement over the dog couldn't be the cause as she had hardly
thought about it in the last few hours, but beyond that, she was unable to reaso
n. She listened absently to the murmur of childish Wires coming from Melanie's r
oom at the other end of the veranda, and attempted to analyse whatever it was th
at nagged at her so per-sistently.
But her introspection brought no answer to the problem. Self-questioning was of
little use. There just remained the irritating feeling of emptiness, as if there
was something missing from her very spiritalmost as she felt when she viewed the
inherent drama of some exciting landscape and knew that to portray it in paints
was beyond her meagre talent and any attempt would only result in a flat pictur
e from which the voice was missing. The feeling was almost desolation.
`Nicola! ' She cast aside her sketches of Traugott as she heard Melanie's flat v
oice calling from across the veranda. 'Nicola!'
She got out of bed, put on the flimsy short dressing-gown which matched the nigh
tie, before going across to the child's room. A bright moon lit the veranda and
her figure cast a long shadow on the floor as she walked.
Melanie's bedroom door was ajar and Nicola en-tered the room. The small bedside
lamp was still on, and the two girls were in bed, while Martin was curled up in
a chair beside the curtained window.
`Were you asleep, Nicola?' Melanie enquired. `No; what did you want?'
Erika sat up and leaned against her pillows, giggling. `We want you to play Padd
y's Black Pig with us.'
Martin said hastily, 'We can, you know, Nicola. I don't have to say Miss Prenn,
do I? Melanie doesn't.
They said we could. We don't have to go to sleep yet, and Ma said I could come h
ere for a while.'
`Very well, then,' Nicola said amiably. 'But you'll have to tell me how to playerP
addy's Black Pig. I've never heard of it.' She seated herself on the foot of Eri
ka's bed.
It was a simple game, requiring nothing more than the ability to keep -a straigh
t face and at which the poker-faced Melanie consequently excelled. It was a ridi
culous game, but Nicola enjoyed being with the children, perhaps because she had
never had much experience of the very young since she had left school. She now
found her three companions to be interesting and distinctly individual people, a
nd she liked listen-ing to their talk when they were diverted from their game.
Later, when they had all laughed a great deal and the children were starting to
yawn, Nicola suggested that it was time they went to sleep, and they agreed. Mar
-tin said goodnight and departed for his room in an-other part of the house on s
ilent bare feet, while Nicola remained to say goodnight.
Erika chuckled drowsily. 'We were tucked in a long time ago, but you'll have to
do it for us again, Nicola.'
`Yes, just look at the beds,' Melanie agreed.
So Nicola tucked them both in, not very expertly because she had never done it f
or anyone before. She reflected on the ceremony that most children seemed to reg
ard as a necessary part of going to bed. Tucking someone in ... it was funny rea
lly. Her grandmother had always done it for her, and Nicola had taken it for gra
nted, but she couldn't remember when she had
ceased to require it. She yawned as she finished Melanie's bed.
`You're not as good as Uncle Barak and Aunt Ellen
at tucking people in,' Melanie commented bluntly. Òr my mother and father,' Eri
ka added drowsily. Ì expect I'll learn,' Nicola said lightly.
You will, if you have children,' said Melanie. 'How many children are you going
to have, Nicola?'
Ì haven't thought about it. I'll need a husband first,' Nicola said as she prep
ared to switch off the bedside lamp.
`D'you think you'll be married soon?' Melanie con-tinued. 'I think you will. I'm
going to have four child-ren, two boys an' two girls.'
`Me too,' Erika murmured.
Nicola laughed softly. The younger child was almost asleep. 'Four children makes
a big family these days,' she said.
Àunt Ellen says it's because of the cost of living,' Melanie explained. 'You ha
ve to be rich if you want lots of children. My great-grandpa and Ulrika had ten
and they weren't rich at all, but that was ages ago.'
Ì must go now,' said Nicola.
`Nicola?' Melanie tilted her head.
`Yes?'
`You do like it here, don't you?'
`Very much,' Nicola assured her. 'Goodnight now.'
`Goodnight,' said Melanie as Nicola switched off the lamp, while Erika merely mu
mbled something.
Nicola went out on to the enclosed veranda. The bright moon, suspended above the
gum-tree planta-tion, still flooded the space between the two bedrooms
with its anaemic light, and the whispering trees outside were full of mystery.
Orange, the big ginger cat, slipped past her and dis-appeared through a half-ope
n window, a nocturnal prowler who had business of his own to attend to. The heav
y silence lying on the house was almost tangible, and Nicola imagined everyone a
sleep, so that she was startled when Barak Sorensen suddenly appeared on the ver
anda.
Òh ! What are you doing in this part of the house so late at night? I thought e
veryone had gone to bed,' she said, speaking with breathless haste and drawing t
he ludicrously inadequate dressing-gown closer to her body.
Ì was reading in the library,' he countered calmly, standing in front of her. '
What are you up to?'
`Stealing the -family heirlooms,' Nicola said flip-pantly, and saw him smile. 'I
was with the children. They asked me to playerPaddy's Black Pig with them.'
`That's all right, then; said Barak. 'Has Martin re-turned to his room?'
Nicola nodded and the moonlight caught the silky swing of her hair which she was
wearing loose. 'Just a few minutes ago. Didn't you see him?'
`No,' said Barak, continuing to speak very quietly. Ànd the girls? Are they asl
eep? I was coming to look in on Melanie.'
Èrika was already off, and Melanie about to follow when I left them,' she told
him. `Do you always do this?'
`Look in on Mel? Most nights. I like to be sure that she's all right.'
`Not lying awake or having nightmares?'
`Yes. But I don't think I really need worry tonight. She's so much more natural
when Martin and Erika are here. I sometimes think it might be better if she went
to live with my cousin in Messina. use and Peter would love to have her.'
But could Barak Sorensen bear to part with Van-essa's child? Karl's child too, N
icola reminded herself. She stared at him in the moonlight, but could make out n
o identifiable expression on the strong-featured dark face. Such a hard face. He
wasn't someone who would ask for or need sympathy, which was why she refrained
from saying what was on her mind : that she had discovered Melanie to be much mo
re the average child than she had first taken her for. The little girl would be
naturally poker-faced and solemn in her man-ner under most circumstances. She wa
s a self-sufficient person, very like her uncle in that respect.
Barak commented abruptly, Ì think Melanie likes you.'
Nicola said sharply, Ì suppose that surprises you?'
`Fighting again, Nicola?' he suggested coolly. Ànd attacking, not defending, no
w. You're continually lash-ing out. What are you so afraid of, that you have thi
s compulsion always to fight?'
Ì'm not afraid,' she said in an intense whisper.
`You are,' he contradicted her, his eyes never leav-ing her. `But I wonder if yo
u even know what it is you fear?'
Ì suppose you think you do,' she said derisively.
Ìnvolvement?'
`What do you mean?' she demanded, discovering that her heart was beating uncomfo
rtably fast.
`You and me, Nicola.'
They stared at each other in the pale unearthly light provided by the opaque dis
c which sailed over the gum-tree plantation. Nicola was trembling as she watched
Barak warily. His face looked very dark to-night ... satanic.
His hands were on her shoulders and she could see that the grey eyes had darkene
d. Her own were dark hazel pools as they stared up into the harsh face so close
to her own. Then her lashes fluttered down to rest in dark half-circles on her c
heeks, and her parted lips were raised to meet his.
His mouth was warm as it claimed hers and Nicola trembled uncontrollably as she
lifted her slim arms to encircle his neck. His fingers, moving restlessly over h
er back and shoulders, demanded and received a re-sponse. Time was displaced and
Nicola was conscious only of his mouth and the hard body against which she was
lying and the hands that drained all will to resist from her as they urgently ma
ssaged her back. Per-sonality was fully sublimated as she responded to his need
of her.
She ran her fingers through his hair as he kissed her over and over again, and t
here was nothing gentle in those kisses; only a sort of frenzied desperation. Th
ey were both trembling now and she felt his fingers travel round the low neck of
her dressing-gown and cup and caress her breasts. Nicola moaned softly against
his
mouth as he kissed her yet again and his caresses ran the full length of her bod
y.
Then with a supreme effort she forced her hands to cease in their urgent rhythm
of movement against his back, and tore herself away from him.
`No,' she protested vehemently.
`Nicola,' Barak murmured. 'I need you.'
Nicola stared at him with pain in her eyes. 'I'm flat-tered,' she managed to get
out sarcastically. 'Especially as I don't have the smooth face and tawny beauty
of the Graemes.'
His eyes grew even darker and she knew she had made him very angry.
Yet he had himself rigidly in control and his voice froze her as he said, 'Is it
for real, Nicola, this im-maturity you so frequently display? Or is it just another image, designed to keep people guessing?'
Clutching anger to her like-a shield, she exclaimed furiously, 'Once again, I do
n't understand your mean-ing. You consistently talk in riddles and I'm tired of
it ! '
Àre you? And I'm tired of your juvenile chatif it's genuine,' Barak added derisi
vely.
`Then hadn't we better end this conversation?' she retorted swiftly.
`Since it's getting us nowhere fast, yes,' he con-ceded, and there was a hint of
steel in his tone. `Go to bed, Nicola. Goodnight.'
Drawing her gown tightly about her slender waist, Nicola obeyed his command, sli
pping silently past him. She gained the privacy of her room and shut the door. F
urious with both Barak and herself, she got into
bed and leaned back against the pillows, fuming and wondering fretfully how she
would face him the fol-lowing day. She was humiliated by her own reaction to his
lovemakingand astonished. What had happened to her?
Nicola spent some time wondering despairingly what it was all about. Complicated
human beings had never been part of her life before. Everything had all been so
uncomplex : there had been her relatives and friends and painting, and nothing
had seemed strange, no one had demanded of her that which she couldn't give, and
conversation had held no unspoken thoughts to frighten her ... oh, how could sh
e be expected to understand now?
She snatched at her sketch-pad and started to draw, with swift, vicious strokes,
seeking to narrow the limits of her world again and withdraw from the dark stra
ngeness she had encountered here, through the familiar act of filling in a space
that was blank. But when she examined what she had drawn, she knew that her art
was not enough to obliterate what had hap-pened. The brief sketches were all of
the same person, drawn from memory, a man with a dark face and light eyes : jus
t a man's head; another full-length one of a man who was powerfully built; a thi
rd of a shadowy figure ... as she had just seen him out there on the moonlit ver
anda.
She tossed the pad aside in disgust and switched out her lamp, but she was in a
disturbed frame of mind and could not settle. The niggling emptiness she had exp
erienced earlier had returned too, and she cursed Barak Sorensen in particular a
nd the inhabitants of the
entire Soutpansberg in general. What was the matter with her?
Eventually she forced herself to centre her mind on her calm past and all that h
ad been pleasant in her life, but the memory of what had happened kept returning
to her.
It also succeeded in vanquishing the memory of that afternoon, because when she
eventually slept, no dreams of rabid dogs came to her and when she awoke in the
morning, she was sure that there had been no dreams of any kind. If there had, s
he had forgotten them.
She was relieved to find that Barak had already gone out when she went in to bre
akfast. A moment later she was feeling annoyed with herself. What did it matter
if he had been here? Surely she had poise enough to face him without becoming fl
ustered, despite what had hap-pened the night before? An irritating part of her
mind said no, she hadn't that sort of composure and neither had she the ability
to forget quickly what had hap-pened.
Traugott's portrait was neglected that morning be-cause his wife had assigned to
him some last-minute shopping to be done in Louis Trichardt in preparation for
the braaivleis they would have that evening.
`There's no hurry, is there, Nicola?' he said when he excused himself after brea
kfast. 'I must help. The women will be busy here, and Barak is out on the farm,
so Peter and I must go into town.'
`That's all right,' said Nicola, though inwardly she chafed at the delay. She wa
nted to finish that portrait and return to the predictable ease of life in Johan
nesWALK IN THE SHADOWS 121
burg. The longer she remained here, the more she would weaken to the powerful, i
nsidious magnetism of Barak Sorensen, and she was wise enough to know where dang
er lay. She wanted her own set of rooms in her father's house again, and hot mor
nings spent in giv-ing herself to the Magaliesberg, lazy afternoons in the swimm
ing-pool, and visits to the galleries ... She wanted all that was familiar and d
ear to her; her bearded father and their easy-going friends; because she was fri
ghtening herself badly with new and strange thoughts and emotions up here among
the mountains of the Soutpansberg range. Ideas seized her mind and made her a st
ranger to herself.
`We'll find some work for you to do this morning, Nicola, you can be sure of tha
t,' Ellen was saying. 'And frankly, the longer you take over my husband's por-tr
ait, the better we'll both like it. We're so enjoying having you here.'
Nicola was touched and she blushed at the compli-ment. 'What would you like me t
o do?' she asked when Traugott had left with Peter Lewis.
Ì know what she can do, Mom! She can keep the kids out of our hair,' Ilse chuck
led. She turned to Nicola, her blue eyes sparkling. 'Would you mind? It's the ha
rdest job of all, but you'd probably have more success than anyone here, because
you're someone new to them, even Madeline. They haven't even begun to explore y
our possibilities yet, so they won't get tired of your company. And we'd appreci
ate your taking them off somewhere away from the house. Children always get unde
r your feet when you're busy, while they're quiet and don't dream of bothering y
ou when you've
got all the time in the world for them.'
Thus it was that Nicola spent a good part of the day outside with the three chil
dren, thankful not to have to meet Barak again just yet. She found she got on su
r-prisingly well with these members of an age-group of which she had previously
had little experience. She had always been a little nervous of children; they we
re such self-possessed people; but the contempt she had subconsciously feared wa
s lacking in these three. They were all different : Martin was the independent,
ag-gressive male, and he enjoyed telling Nicola and the girls things he thought
they didn't know; Melanie, still stolidly bland most of the time, treated Nicola
with calm acceptance now and Nicola knew that, coming from this child, any free
ly volunteered conversation was a lot; and Erika, a happy little girl, was alway
s ready to be friendly.
She clung to Nicola's hand when they walked up to the boundary of the mass of gu
m-trees to see if they could spot any buck. 'Won't it be fun, having a braaivlei
s tonight?' she demanded eagerly. 'One of the boys coming is Melanie's boy-frien
d.'
`No, he's not,' Melanie denied the charge calmly, and dextrously altered the cou
rse of the conversation. `Who is your boy-friend, Nicola?'
Ì haven't one at present,' Nicola replied. 'I only have friends these days.'
`But you have had a boy-friend?'
Òh yes.'
Ànd you'll have one again, won't you?' Erika sounded quite anxious.
Ì expect so,' Nicola said easily, and smiled at MarWALK IN THE SHADOWS 123
tin's bored expression. It was true that girls took a sophisticated interest in
such matters earlier than boys.
That evening she spent some time examining the clothes she had brought with her
from Johannesburg. She didn't want to appear overdressed for the braaiv-leis, bu
t ... well, Denise Graeme would be there and she would undoubtedly look wonderfu
l. Long skirts, Ellen had said.
Eventually she settled for a slim petrol-blue skirt and a white blouse banded wi
th bright braid which was a favourite of hers because it reminded her of the Rum
anian peasant blouse which had featured in some of the works of Matisse.
She had found time to wash her hair during the afternoon, so that it was slipper
y-clean now, and she left it loose, casually waving about her shoulders. Her blo
use had a low-cut neckline, so she added a plain gold choker before deciding tha
t there was nothing further to be done to her appearance. She studied her reflec
-tion in the mirror while she was applying perfume and brushing her rich auburn
hair for the last time before leaving the room. She was at least slim, and a goo
d height, and the little time spent working outside on Traugott's portrait under
blue skies and a summer sun had deepened her tan to a glowing golden colour, bu
t ... honestly, her face was too bony, the cheekbones too exaggeratedly high.
Oh, this was ridiculous, Nicola thought dismissively as she turned away from the
mirror. In twenty-three years, she had failed to worry about her looks, so why
start now?
She left the room, crossed the veranda and entered
the lounge, moving with angular grace which gave line to slim, sloping shoulders
and firm breasts.
It wasn't until she was well into the room that her step faltered, while her hea
rt started an absurdly rapid fluttering, before settling and seeming to sink hea
vily within her.
She hadn't wanted to meet Barak alone, but here he was, apparently waiting for h
er, because now he stepped forward. Those strange grey eyes raked her appearance
, yet gave no indication of whether he ap-proved.
Nicola's fingers curled into the palms of her hands as that ridiculous tremulous
feeling assaulted her once more, and she was resentfully certain that those pen
e-trating eyes were noticing and registering her reaction, perhaps with amusemen
t, although they still gave noth-ing away.
He said casually, 'You don't appear to have much sense of time. Most of the gues
ts have arrived and everyone is already up at the fires. Or were you trying to g
ather courage?'
`What for?' she demanded, then rushed on in case he answered her. 'You needn't h
ave waited.'
`Why not? I am your host,' he reminded her, his glance amused.
`You've remembered!' she retorted sarcastically, wondering at the same time why
he always made her feel so contrary. 'But I could have gone up on my own.'
Ìt's women like you, Nicola, who discourage men from displays of old-fashioned
gallantry,' he told her easily. 'Let's go along to the braaivleis.'
In the darkness. outside, Nicola stumbled slightly as
her foot encountered an unevenness in the grass, and Barak put out a hand to ste
ady her. The contact had the immediate effect of reminding her of his caresses t
he night before and, frightened by the sudden weakness that assailed her, she mo
ved quickly away from him, keeping her distance as they walked on.
Ìndependent,' he commented, drawling more than usual. 'Or scared? What are you
afraid of, Nicola?'
Ì'm not,' she protested, wishing her voice wouldn't shake.
Ì was right, wasn't I?' he went on inexorably, his tone deriding her nervousnes
s. 'It is involvement you fear.'
Ì don't understand you.'
`You don't want involvement on my terms?' `Not on any terms,' Nicola said veheme
ntly. `Why not?' he asked quietly.
Òh, shut up and leave me alone !' she exclaimed rudely, appalled by her inabili
ty to handle this con-versation.
`Calm down and take life less seriously,' he advised her in somewhat chilly tone
s. 'Or is this all another of those acts at which you excel?'
`Why shouldn't it be genuine?' she demanded lightly, fighting to assume some mea
sure of command, both over herself and the conversation.
Ìt could be, I suppose,' he said, pretending to con-sider the question. 'When w
ere you born? I'll excuse you if it was under Gemini, as, according to Ellen, su
ch subjects are characterised by split personalities ... changeable. Which is re
ality and which is illusion?'
He was making fun of her and Nicola hated him. Ì'm not Gemini,' she said stiffl
y.
Ì didn't think you were. So it's all deliberate, calcu-lated to confuse?' he qu
eried, and his tone had altered now to contain a threat. 'Because I warn you, Ni
cola, you won't succeed. I don't take kindly to such feminine games?'
She shrugged helplessly. 'Who's playing games?'
In silence they proceeded up to the ash trees where everyone else was already ga
thered.
Her mind was a jumble of chaotic thoughts as she walked carefully beside him. Ba
rak ... and last night's unassuaged need. She had felt it in him, he had ad-mitt
ed it to her, and Nicola knew that from now on surrender could never be very far
from her.
Last night ... the memory wouldn't remove itself from her mind. She had been kis
sed often, but even when men with whom she had imagined herself in love had kiss
ed her, there had not flared that passion which she had experienced down there o
n the veranda the previous night, not that flagrant desire which had fired her s
enses.
There were lights in the trees and meat was already being braaied over the fires
, while a long trestle table had been set up, bearing drinks and bread and all s
orts of spicy condiments, while big pink slices of water-melon were arranged on
a huge ashet.
As they approached the circle of light and the chatter and laughter of the other
s reached them, Nicola said tentatively, 'Barak?' She didn't quite know what she
intended to say; she just felt that something had to be said.
`Forget it, Nicola,' he said coldly, bored now. 'I'll admit I hadn't expected yo
u to be quite so juvenile in your reactions.'
She flinched at the frostiness in his voice; it chilled, especially when she com
pared it with his urgency of last night as she did now. Humiliated, and not trul
y understanding his words, she forced herself to say flippantly, 'Then you'd bet
ter play safe with the eighteen-year-old fresh out of school whom I see coming t
o meet you. You would probably find greater maturity there.'
Ì would indeed, if I wanted to,' he said with whip-lash humour. 'Denise evident
ly has more to offer than you.'
Todd Baxter had also suggested that Denise Graeme had the greater maturity, Nico
la recollected resent-fully.
Ìs what a woman has to offer all that counts?' she demanded angrily, but in a l
ow voice. 'I suppose you don't feel you have to offer anything in return.'
Barak turned his dark head and regarded her in the bad light. 'If you're referri
ng to what occurred last nightyou wanted me as much as I wanted you, Nicola,' he
observed. 'Doesn't that make for equal giv-ing from both parties?'
Nicola felt her cheeks grow warm at his frank refer-ence to their shared desire.
She had to admit that the passion had come from both sides.
Denise approached them, looking as elegant as ever. She had achieved just the ri
ght degree of sophistication for such a party in donning a rich crimson blouse a
nd a long cream skirt. Nicola wondered ruefully whether
Denise had ever made a mistake over her appearance. Had she felt worried about h
er looks when she had at-tended her first adult party? That wouldn't have been s
o very many years ago, Nicola reflected.
`Barak!' Denise exclaimed, coming to hang on his arm in a young and beguiling ge
sture. 'What happened to you? I was getting quite concerned.'
Ì had something to attend to,' said Barak, smiling at her inscrutably as they e
ntered the circle of light.
`Do tell me,' Denise pleaded. 'Oh, hullo, Nicola,' she added as if noticing her
for the first time.
`Hullo,' Nicola said politely, and : 'Excuse me, please.'
She hastened towards a group of people standing around the fires.
`There you are, Nicola,' said Traugott, using a long-handled braaiing fork to tu
rn over a sizzling chop. `Come and tell me what you want. Steak, chops, boere-wo
rs, or what?'
Òh, boerewors, please,' Nicola replied.
À true South African,' Traugott teased.
Ì detest it indoors, but cooked over a fire outside, and accompanied by stywe p
ap, I love it,' she said laughingly.
Ì'm the same,' said Peter Lewis with a smile, sampl-ing some pineapple and gree
n pepper salad. 'May I braai it for you, Miss Prenn?'
`Thank you,' she said.
She smiled, watching the men at the fires. They all appeared to conform to type
in believing that know-ledge about cooking over fires was exclusively a male pre
rogative. Each believed himself to be the expert :
Peter Lewis who insisted that a little South West Afri-can beer sprinkled over t
he meat brought out its flavour, Traugott who braaied the plain way ...
Nicola usually loved a braaivleis, that traditionally South African institution,
and this one adhered to a high standard. The boerewors was mixed by Ellen her-s
elf, rich and highly spiced, needing the blandness of the stywe putu-pap, made f
rom meal, which was the staple diet of some of the country's poorer indigenous i
nhabitants but, ironically, a party treat for more recent settlers.
Mushrooms, wrapped in foil, were placed right among the glowing logs to cook in
their own juices, there was plenty of beer, and wine and fruit juice for those w
ho didn't like it.
Later there would be pints of strong coffee and they would be able to sit around
the fires, dreaming, or listening to man-talk, about planting and picking, market prices and the possibility of droughts or floods.
But now was the lively hour of the party. Nicola dis-covered that although the S
orensens braaied with a certain modern sophistication, they did not despise the
old, well-loved traditions attached to this activity. One of their guests, an Af
rikaans farmer, had brought his accordion and was providing some rollicking tiek
ie-draai and volkspele music, interspersed with old fav-ourites like Sark Marais
and Die Ou Kraal-liedjie.
Someone younger, obviously at peace with the world and enjoying life, started to
hum, 'Braaivleis, rugby, sunny skies ...' and Nicola smiled. It was a recent fa
shion to break into that refrain in praise of South Africa whenever the living w
as particularly good. It
over-simplified the matter, of course, since there was more to it than that, and
she could do without the rugby, but it did serve as a description of a way of l
ife.
Yet somehow Nicola's efforts to enjoy the braaivleis met with little success. Sh
e felt tense, and her emotions were uncertain. She kept looking for Barak, who h
ad Denise constantly at his side.

She was introduced to Hilary Baxter, who was a plain woman in her late twenties.
Nicola noticed with compassion how her eyes followed her profligate hus-band, w
ho was making himself charming to Peter and Ilse. She also noticed how they soft
ened as they came to rest on the high-spirited little group comprising Melanie,
the Lewis children and a couple of other young people. Mrs Baxter wanted childre
n, Nicola realised. Perhaps a child would serve to lessen the un-happiness Todd
caused her. But what sort of childhood would it be with a father like Todd? Row
much could parenthood change a mad?
Nicola was accosted by Todd himself, a little later, as Mr and Mrs Graeme, to wh
om she had been talking, moved away.
`Hullo, Nicola darling,' he greeted her. 'How are you getting on?'
`Fine, thank you,' she assured him abruptly. It was no use. He was one of those
people whom she would find it impossible to like, no matter how many redeem-ing
virtues she might discover in him.
Ì wish I could see more of you,' he continued in a low voice. 'How about my tak
ing you out for a drive through the mountains tomorrow? They won't expect you to
work on a Sunday, will they?'
Ì don't know, but I don't want to go out with you, Todd,' Nicola said gravely.
Àh, Nicola, think of the fun we could have together. I'm someone you know from
Johannesburg, so you ought to welcome my company,' he said persuasively.
`You talk as if we were exiles,' she snapped.
`Sometimes I feel like it,' Todd answered, sighing heavily. 'I only have to spen
d a week up here and I'm longing for the city. I'd like to take you out some tim
e when we're both in Johannesburg; there's much more scope for a good time there
.'
'You chose to marry someone who lived here,' Nicola pointed out coldly, noticing
that both Barak and Denise were watching them from across the lighted circle. S
he saw Denise lean towards Barak and say something which made him laugh. She did
n't dare look for Hilary to see if she was watching them.
`Do let me fetch you tomorrow, Nicola, and show you some of our local beauty-spo
ts. You might see something you'd like to paint.'
Ìt would take years to exhaust the possibilities of just this one farm, so I'm
not looking for anything else,' she said.
`Come on, Nicola. I've a feeling we could get on very well if we got to know eac
h other better,' Todd argued insistently. 'After all, I'm a friend of your fathe
r's.'
Ì doubt if he regards you in such a light,' she said rudely, adding firmly, 'No
, Todd, I don't want to go out anywhere with you. Please accept that.'
`Nicola darling'
`Talk about persistence !' Nicola interrupted in a coolly amused voice, abandoni
ng all semblance of
kindness in favour of cruelty. Her hazel eyes were mocking as they rested on Tod
d's face. 'Why do you run after girls, Todd? Why don't you leave us alone? It wo
n't do anything to preserve the illusion of youth; you'll still inevitably wake
up one morning to find you're an adult, not a boy.'
Todd was plainly discomfited. 'I believe I said it be-fore : you've a sharp tong
ue, Nicola.'
Ì need it when you're around,' was her dry retort. Ìt's not very kind to laugh
at people,' he argued, rather pathetically.
Tut you're funny, Todd,' she said mildly. She gave him a wintry smile. 'As you p
ersist in behaving like a boy just out of school and let loose among the opposit
e sex for the first time, I suppose I must treat you like one. Run along now, To
dd dear. I can't be bothered with you at the moment.'
She hastily concealed a giggle as she saw Todd's out-raged expression.
`You ought to be more careful, Nicola. A cruel humour like yours will lose you a
ll your friends,' he said angrily before stalking away from her.
Nicola watched him go. She thought she had been right about his trying to preser
ve the illusion of youth. He was one of those unfortunate men who were terri-fie
d of growing older and couldn't bear to shoulder re-sponsibility. He would proba
bly never have married if it hadn't been for Hilary's money. He would still be a
bachelor today, and perhaps happier than he was as a married man. Marriage made
him feel old, although he was actually only about thirty. She wondered what wou
ld become of him.
Unless Hilaty had a child, which just might, at an outside chance, help him to g
row up emotionally, he would go on with his present activities for years to come
until, one day, the girls he liked so much began to think of him as an old fool
, and then ... who knew? It was sad, but Todd's type didn't often settle easily
into maturity. She supposed the ageing process was something everyone feared to
some extent, but in Todd the fear and consequent resistance were exag-gerated.
Again she wondered what would become of Todd Baxter.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE following morning, Nicola accompanied Ellen Sorensen and Peter Lewis to the
Methodist church in Louis Trichardt.
`Those who were born Sorensens have all remained Lutherans,' Ellen explained.
When they returned to the farm, Nicola headed for her bedroom, wondering whether
Traugott was ex-pecting work on the portrait to be continued on a Sun-day.
She entered the lounge and her step faltered, be-cause Barak was sitting at the
piano on which the long-dead Ulrika had once played. He ran his strong fingers o
ver the keys, producing a discordant jangle, then stood up as she started to cro
ss the room. His dark face
was grim and she was conscious of a feeling of trepida-tion.
`Well?' he asked, and there was something inexor-able in the one word.
`Well what?' Nicola retorted, determined not to allow him to see the effect he h
ad on her.
Ì didn't have a chance to speak to you again last night,' he said expressionles
sly.
`No, you were fully occupied. with Denise. You don't need to tell me,' Nicola sa
id drily.
Àt least Denise doesn't feel she has to fight me all the time,' he commented, a
nd there was a flicker of humour in the ice-grey eyes.
`Perhaps someone should warn her,' Nicola sug-gested.
`Warn her of what?' he enquired, leaning casually against the piano.
Nicola shrugged, exasperated. 'Oh, I don't know,' she said wearily. 'But I shoul
dn't think anyone would find a relationship with you very rewarding.'
`What gives you that impression? Do you know so much about me, Nicola, when you'
ve only been here such a short while?'
Her hazel eyes held mingled anger and confusion as she met his glance. `No, but,
I have discovered a few things about you.'
`Such as?'
Òh, what does it matter?' she said listlessly.
`But I'm interested,' he mocked with a half-smile. 'What commodity will Denise f
ind me failing to bring to our relationship?'
Nidola's hands smoothed the skirt of her sunshineWALK IN THE SHADOWS 135
yellow dress which revealed the stiff tenseness in every line of her slim body.
Wanting to hurt, she taunted, Ìt's not what you'll fail to bring, Barak, but si
mply the fact that you've never tried to rid yourself of the past. I feel sorry
for that girlshe'll always wonder if you aren't perhaps thinking of her sister. I
sn't it because of her resemblance to Vanessa that you're almost engaged to Deni
se?'
She had wanted to hurt him, but she couldn't know if she had succeeded in doing
anything more than en-rage him, because the uncompromising features merely took
on a cold tight mask of anger, and he said, 'Do you always delve into the privat
e lives of your ac-quaintances?'
`You asked me a question,' she reminded him.
`Kindly never refer to Vanessa again,' he ordered her in tones that promised to
make mincemeat of any argument. 'You never knew her, and what she was to me is n
o concern of yours. I wanted to talk to you,' he added abruptly.
Ìs there anything further to be said?' Nicola asked coldly.
`Not in the context you're meaning,' he agreed sar-donically. 'I have no interes
t in someone who over-reacts on your exaggerated emotional scale. I was go-ing t
o mention your behaviour with Baxter last night. You were together for quite som
e time at the braaiv-leis.'
Nicola laughed scornfully. 'My behaviour! Perhaps you're the one who over-reacts
, Barak. Todd and I stood talking for a while, and that's all there is to it. Be
sides, if your affairs are none of my business, as
you've just told me ... well, shouldn't you practise what you preach?'
`When your affairs are carried on to my own pro-perty, I consider them to be my
business,' Barak in-formed her. 'How you behave elsewhere, in your father's hous
e for instance, doesn't concern me, but I won't have your relationship with Baxt
er flaunted on my property.'
Ì suppose you're so upright and moral that you can safely afford to condemn me,
' Nicola said bitterly.
Ìt isn't a question of morals,' he snapped. 'Had you forgotten that Hilary was
present last night? I don't like to see her humiliatedparticularly on my farm. Sh
e was watching the pair of you last night. What were you doingcontinuing the prol
onged parting? I be-lieve you told me the affair was over.'
Ìt is,' she said furiously. She had perforce to acnknowledge his kindness in hi
s consideration for Hilary Baxter's feelings, which annoyed her all the more. Wh
y had she ever allowed his belief in her mythical affair with Todd to develop? F
or his own sake, of course; for the sake of Barak Sorensen and the young girl wh
om he would probably eventually take for his life-partner and mate. She couldn't
go back.
He was watching her carefully and she met his cold eyes with defiance in her own
.
`Have I expressed my wishes clearly?' he said after a pause in which they had en
gaged in silent battle.
Nicola knew who the conqueror was, and her defi-ance was torn from her, but she
still had her pride. `Certainly,' she assured him with dignity. She spun round t
o leave the room, and her silky hair shifted in a
liquid movement, swirling about her shoulders. 'I've never disliked anyone as mu
ch as I dislike you,' she added.
From behind her she heard him say, 'Unfortunately that fails to move me. What di
d you expect? Woebe-gone pleas for you to assure me it isn't true?'
`Not from the devil incarnate,' Nicola called back over her shoulder, and wonder
ed whether she heard him laugh as she left the room.
She felt dispirited and tired most of the day, and even the company of Melanie a
nd the Lewis children couldn't banish the grey thoughts that floated across her
mind. Her life had been so uncomplicated up until now, so that the sudden confus
ed questions which hit her now were an assault on her equilibrium. Nicola was co
mpletely disorientated by all that had hap-pened : Barak's attitude towards her,
the prolonged clash between them, the lies in which she had involved herself fo
r Denise's sake ... She couldn't even begin to untangle the skeins of confusion.
She would have retreated in time, given the chance. Not to know any of this, to
view things in perspective and bright colours instead of groping in this frighte
n-ing half-light, with a heavy heart and nerves that were on edge. She had to ad
mit to herself that Barak was partially if not wholly responsible for her state
of mind. She was so intensely aware of him and his moods, and the effect he had
on her. He was constantly in her thoughts, and she was annoyed to find how much
his cold attitude towards her hurt. He addressed her only when it was imperative
that he do so, and then with icy indifference which hurt more than if he had em
ployed
angry antagonism. That at least would have been posi-tive.

How she disliked him! Yet his relationship with Vanessa kept returning to her, c
alling upon her imag-ination, and she couldn't forget his consideration for Hila
ry.
That afternoon she took her sketch-pad out on to the lawn between the house and
the gum-tree planta-tion, but she couldn't summon up much interest in the surrou
nding beauty. All she wanted was to finish Traugott's portrait and escape from t
his place which had brought her to the edge of a darkness she hadn't hitherto kn
own even existed.
Presently Ilse and Ellen, the latter carrying a plate of watermelon slices, came
across the lawn with Melanie, Martin and Erika in their wake.
Ellen said, 'We all felt in need of some refreshment. How about you, Nicola?'
Between them they finished up the watermelon and then Nicola allowed the childre
n to persuade her to make some sketches of them, sketches which Ilse claimed for
herself.
Later everyone gathered on the driveway to say goodbye to the Lewis family, and
little Erika, doing the rounds, gave even Nicola a brief hug before getting into
the car.
Ì'm so glad we know you, Nicola,' she said, and the smiles of her brother and p
arents said the same thing.
As the car moved off down the drive, Nicola heard Barak murmur in cynical amusem
ent, 'You appear to have much the same effect on them as you do on Trau-gott and
Ellen.'
Nicola swung round to face him. Nobody else was near them at that moment, so she
demanded, 'What do you mean?'
He smiled frostily as he looked down into her face. `They're already fond of you
.'
Às I intend to leave immediately after I've finished Traugott's portrait, which
I hope won't take too long, there isn't going to be enough time for anyone to g
et fond of me,' she pointed out coldly.
`Do you really believe it takes time for love to de-velop?' he asked expressionl
essly.
Òf course. You have to know someone properly be-fore they can inspire love,' Ni
cola said with certainty.
She thought Barak sighed. 'Either you're a complete child or there's no depth to
you whatsoever,' he said resignedly. 'What about loveor hateat first sight?'
`They're not to be trusted.'
`How sensible and level-headed of you,' he drawled. Ànd if the impact of an emo
tion that hits you on first knowing someone stays with you and is stronger than
any that might develop slowly?'
Ìt doesn't happen like that,' said Nicola.
`What a fool you are,' he said hurtfully, and the grey eyes were scornful.
`Why do you hate me so much?' she asked in a low intense voice as Peter's car di
sappeared from view. `What have I done? You can't hate me simply because of my .
.. my past relationship with Todd, just because you think because I had a love a
ffair with him and you disapprovewell, that's no reason.'
`There you go, over-reacting again. Must you always make an emotional drama out
of everything?' Barak
said contemptuously. 'I don't hate you, child. I merely dislike your stupidity,
your childishness. I suppose you might say that I'm indifferent to youbecause of
those things.'
He turned away from her, leaving Nicola raging in-wardly at the power he had to
inflict hurt on her through a few scornful words. But why 'should she care? Oh,
the sooner she left here, the better, she de-cided as she returned to the house
with Ellen and Traugott walking beside her.
Barak went out again immediately after dinner, and Nicola supposed he was going
to see Denise. As soon as he had left, she requested permission to use the telephone and put a call through to her father in Johannes-burg. She hoped he would
be at home and not away on one of his sudden trips. She sorely needed to hear hi
s voice.
`Dad! ' she exclaimed in relief when he answered. He was someone blessedly norma
l in an existence which had been jerked out of its usual rhythmic swing, and she
was glad to speak to him.
`Nick !' Robert Prenn shouted. He always shouted when using the telephone. 'How
are you getting on, girl? How's the portrait?'
`Progressing,' Nicola told him. 'When I'm not actu-ally working on it, I find it
causes me a lot of doubt, but I know I can't judge it objectively until I've fi
n-ished it and am no longer bound emotionally to it.'
`Good girl,' he said approvingly. 'I'm sure it'll be a success. Is the old gentl
eman much to look at?'
`He's wonderful; that's why I'm not finding him as difficult to paint as I might
have done, had he been
lacking in visible character,' Nicola said warmly. 'What about you, Dad? What ha
ve you been doing?'
Òh, I've been out to the Magaliesberg quite a lot since you left,' Robert told
her.
Ànd are you all right? Robina has been coming in from Soweto, hasn't she?'
`Yes, the house has been kept clean, and I'm not starving, if that's what's worr
ying you,' her father as-sured her genially.
Ìt's not,' Nicola laughed. 'You wouldn't allow your-self to starve. I know you
and how you like your com-fort. But what about Timothy and Dabble?'
`Your cats are fine. They've been taking advantage of me because you aren't here
to make a fuss of them. Timothy has taken to sleeping on my bed during the day,
but I turn him out at night.'
Às long as they're being fed,' said Nicola. 'I'm afraid I arrived here with ano
ther cat for the Soren-sens. They already had three, but I could hardly leave th
e poor little scrap to starve. She's only eight or nine weeks old.'
`That's typical of you, Nick,' her father chuckled. `Never mind about human bein
gs and their comfort, as long as your precious cats are happy ! How did the Sore
nsens take it?'
Ì'm not sure,' said Nicola, remembering Barak's re-action. This was his house,
after all. 'I assured them I'd take her back home with me when I leave, if they
don't want her. But she's settled in very well here. The other cats don't mind h
er a bit. There's a beautiful lump of affection called Sylvester, a Siamese, as
well as a tabby and a ginger'
`Stop talking about the Sorensen cats and tell me about the Sorensens,' Robert c
ommanded. 'What do you think of Barak, the nephew?'
Nicola hesitated. What did she think of Barak? 'I don't like him, and he thinks
I'm a fool.'
`Because you don't like him?'
Òh no ! He just thinks I'm stupid. He told me so.'
`Like that, is it?' Robert chuckled. 'Then you ought to get on very well if you
both detest each other.'
`So well that we never say anything pleasant to each other,' Nicola said drily.
Ì liked him when I met him on New Year's Eve, but he did strike me as being a m
an who would win all arguments, so perhaps you'd better keep out of his way,' Ro
bert suggested, still chuckling.
Ì intend to,' Nicola assured him.
`What was it? Instant antagonism?'
`You could put it like that.' She didn't want to tell him that Barak had already
received an impression concerning her, before she had even arrived in the North
ern Transvaal.
`What else can you tell me? Do you like the rest of them?'
'Oh yes; Ellen and Traugott are wonderful people, and I like Melanie too. She's
Barak's niece. Melanie and I managed a terrifying escape from a dog with rabies
the other day,' Nicola told him.
`Nicola! What happened?' Robert sounded hor-rified.

Òh, he came for us, and I had to push Melanie over a high wall, and then the do
g knocked himself out against that same wall,' she explained briefly, making it
sound as prosaic as possible. She hadn't intended to upset him. 'I've seen Todd
Baxter since I've been up here, Dad. I hadn't known his wife had a farm in this
area. She was at the braaivleis the Sorensens had here last night.'
`So it's not all painting?'
They said goodbye a few minutes later and Nicola stood still in the hall for a w
hile. For once, talking to her father had failed to raise her spirits.
She went into the lounge and looked sadly at Ellen and Traugott who had their he
ads close together over Traugott's chessboard. Their marriage was such a happy o
ne. Time had proved that, for they were still in love now, when their wedding-da
y was part of a distant and receding past, misty in their minds.
Some people were so fortunate, Nicola thought almost enviously. But, why should
she be feeling like this? She had so much, herself.
The schools re-opened the next day, so Melanie was absent in the mornings during
the days that followed, days which passed quickly enough, bringing hours in whi
ch Nicola felt almost completely happy again.
She found herself deriving pleasure from the farm. She would help in the kitchen
while Ellen and Sarah were busy, or she would sit on the veranda with Traugott
and listen to his reminiscences about the past. The black kitten, christened Top
sy, was growing fat, frequently stealing anything that took its fancy and spendi
ng long hours stalking Jody, Ellen's old grey tabby.
Nicola learnt to recognise local weather signs; an amber glow in the evenings me
ant that the morning
would find a thick mist curling its fingers about the farmhouse, obscuring the m
ountains from view. Such days, however, were rare, and mostly the sun shone from
an azure sky, burnishing the mountains below.
On the few misty days, work on the portrait was de-layed, and Nicola took the op
portunity to explore the area as well as Louis Trichardt with its old churches,
bright gardens and many commemorative plaques and monuments. She always needed h
er wits about her, driving in the mist, having to look out for turnings and copi
ng with the low visibility, but she usually made good time and spent some enjoya
ble mornings.
Returning to the farm one such morning, she caught sight of a car in her rear-vi
ew mirror. It was the station-wagon which Barak used for going about the farm, a
nd he was at the wheel, which probably accounted for the fact that she suddenly
found her nerves on edge. Her hands were slipping on the steering-wheel and she
crawled at a snail's pace for the remainder of the way, constantly aware of the
car travelling behind her. Nicola counted herself fortunate that she only stalle
d once.
Mentally she chalked it up as another mark against the man : her knowledge of hi
s distaste for her was undermining her self-confidence.
She ground her gears as she took the last, hill, and when she had parked the car
, she found that he was still with her.
Barak fell into step beside her as she walked towards the house, and Nicola scow
led.
'You're not a very good driver, are you?' he re-marked casually.
`We can't all do everything perfectly.'
Ì've noticed that you're going out quite frequently. Still acting out the linge
ring death? Where do you meet him?' Barak asked coldly.
Nicola stopped and faced him, her hazel eyes dark with anger. 'I am not meeting
Todd Baxter, if that's what you're suggesting,' she informed him in a tight voic
e. 'I haven't seen him since the braaivleis.'
`Where do you disappear to, then?' he asked, but he sounded so indifferent, as i
f he didn't care what the answer was, and Nicola bit her lip.
Ì've been exploring the district,' she said as tone-lessly as she could manage.
`Yes?' He looked and sounded sceptical.

`Yes !' Nicola reiterated furiously. 'Of course, I don't expect you to believe m
e, and I don't care if you don't. It's enough for me that Ellen and Traugott accept my word. They have tolerance, which is more than can be said for some peopl
e in this vicinity.'
`For instance?' he enquired amusedly.
Às if you didn't know!' she flashed.
`Why are you always so ,aggressive?' Barak asked as they went on towards the hou
se.
Nicola sighed 'I don't know,' she said with sudden candour.
Ì do,' he told her. 'You're going about things the wrong way, Nicola. You can't
fight all the time. You'll wear yourself out, turning everything into an emotio
nal issue. You'd make it much easier for yourself if you accepted the inevitable
and let it all wash over you. You can't determine the course of your life, so r
elax and stop fighting.'
Nicola mounted the stairs to the veranda with him behind her. 'I've no idea what
you're talking about, Barak,' she said without looking round.
Ì think you know perfectly well, but you're trying to swamp the truth by feigni
ng ignorance of it. But ignoring something won't make it go away,' he added as h
e held open the front door for her.
`So what am I supposed to do?' Nicola asked flip-pantly.
Ì told you : relax and accept everything,' he said.
Ì don't even like you,' she told him stiffly as they crossed the hall.
`There you go, dramatising again,' Barak jeered.
`There you go, sneering again,' Nicola retorted. She laughed suddenly, turning h
er head to meet his eyes. Òur every conversation provides further proof of our
incompatibility. We can never say anything pleasant to each other.'
`That's because you're fighting yourself all the time,' he pointed out.
Ìt's you I'm fightingI have to, because you con-tinually attack me,' she said.
They entered the lounge. 'You're a past master at blinding yourself to the facts
,' Barak said expression-lessly.
`You're mistaken,' Nicola stated coldly. 'I know what you regard as the facts, b
ut my own opinion doesn't coincide, and even if it did, we would still dislike e
ach other.'
`You want emotional as well as physical affinity in your relationships, then?' h
e asked, pausing beside the beautiful piano. There was a glint of humour in his
grey eyes, and Nicola stared at him, fascinated.
Then she 'pulled herself together. 'Certainly Per-haps you wouldn't understand t
hat, being so old. I believe men who reach your age, having remained bachelors,
do become cynical and hardened with regard to such matters. Perhaps you've forgo
tten that young people look for magic in the world. I'm still young enough for t
hat, thank God.' She smiled mockingly.
Barak's lip curled. 'Do I seem so old to you?'
`Well, aren't you?' she taunted.
Ì'm thirty-seven,' he said. 'But perhaps it's you who are so very young.' `Meaning that Denise doesn't think of you as old,' Nicola said frigidly. 'I supp
ose that's another crack at what you once called my childishness. Well, good luc
k to Denise. Personally, I'd hate to have grown up as quickly as she's had to. B
ut then stepping into a dead woman's shoes must be an ageing process.'
Barak's face darkened and she grew apprehensive as she saw the smouldering fires
in his eyes. 'I told you never to refer to Vanessa again,' he snapped with taut
fury.
Nicola retreated. 'Didn't you ask for it?' she re-torted sweetly as she backed a
way from him.
`Go away, child,' he instructed her, and his face was still a tight mask of ange
r. 'I've no objection to fight-ing, but I can't say I like your methods.'
Ànd I don't like yours,' Nicola replied and, turning from him, she left the roo
m.
In her bedroom she sank down into a chair. Every short encounter with Barak left
her feeling exhausted, and she wished more than anything in the world that
she could escape from this place where everything seemed to conspire to destroy
her nerves and wreak havoc on her emotions. What had become of the calm rhythm w
hich had once been the state of her life? If only she could leave ! But there wa
s still Traugott's portrait to be finished, and it was taking longer than she ha
d anticipated, as the result of a few moisture-laden mornings when visibility sh
rank to a mere metre.
Nicola was alone in the lounge the following after-noon when Denise walked in.
`Nobody else at home?' the girl asked. She was wearing a turquoise dress which f
lattered her tawny colouring and the flawless, softly tanned skin.
`Nobody but Sarah and me,' Nicola agreed as she put down her book. 'The men are
out somewhere, and Ellen has taken Melanie to her music lesson.'
`My precious niece is a spoilt little thing,' Denise commented as she sat down g
racefully in a low chair. `Piano lessons, ballet lessons, swimming lessons.'
`The last are necessary, you must admit,' said Nicola.
Òf course,' Denise agreed, lifting a hand to smooth her hair which was looking
attractively windswept. `That's why swimming was all I was allowed as a child. I
wanted ballet, and private tennis coaching, but swim-ming was all I got, and th
at because it was necessary.'
`There's no doubt that Melanie is a privileged child,' Nicola commented.
Òver-privileged, I sometimes think, but perhaps I subconsciously resent anyone
having what I couldn't have,' Denise said with blunt honesty.
À lot of people are like that,' Nicola remarked.
`Yes,' said Denise absently. She looked at Nicola very directly and said, `Do yo
u know that Barak is interested in you?'
Nicola raised her head defensively. 'How do you know that?'
Ì'm not a fool and I learnt to look after my own in-terests a long time ago,' D
enise said impatiently. 'It's the way he talks about you ... or rather, the way
he doesn't talk about you. I sometimes question him about you, but he remains ad
amant in refusing to discuss you.'
She didn't sound as concerned or resentful as the other girl would have expected
, so Nicola didn't at-tempt to deny it. She said, 'It's nothing but physical att
raction, and that never endures, so you have no cause to worry. He can't stand m
e as a person.'
Òh, I wasn't exactly worrying,' Denise said easily. 'I just wondered if you kne
w, that's all. I don't think Barak will ever go very far from me, whoever might
attract him at various intervals. I'm too like Vanessa for him to want to lose m
e.'
Nicola was surprised. 'Don't you mind?' she asked. `Doesn't it make you doubt yo
urself, knowing that you remind him of your sister?'
`Why should it?' Denise enquired with delicately lifted eyebrows. Her breathless
voice sounded less childish this afternoon. 'I regard my resemblance to Vanessa
as an advantage. It's one way of making sure that I hold Barak. God, I couldn't
stand losing him now,' she concluded with sudden intensity.
`Do you love him so much?' Nicola asked, and com-passion flavoured her words. De
nise must love Barak
terribly if she was prepared to use her resemblance to Vanessa in order to keep
him hers. It must cost her a lot in pride, though.
`Love him?' Denise echoed with surprising casual-ness. 'I suppose so. I want to
be his wife, anyway.'
She stood up and walked like a graceful lioness to the piano. She ran a loving h
and over its polished lid, while her tawny eyes swept round the room, over the b
eautiful old furniture and the wealth of art on the walls. There was a strange l
ight in those eyes; a feverish and hungry greed, almost, Nicola thought.
Denise continued, speaking with a fervour that told her listener that here was g
enuine emotion : 'But it's all this; the farm, the house and all the beautiful t
hings in it that I truly love. That's understandable, isn't it? I mean, I've gro
wn up in a small house, and the furni-ture was always horrible cheap modern stuf
f, and the only good painting I ever had was the Robert Prenn Barak gave me for
my birthday. I like things to be old old and beautiful. Can you imagine how I cov
eted this place? Even when I was tiny I knew I wanted to be a part of it. I was
eight when Vanessa and Barak fell in love, and I was thrilled because I thought
that if my sister became the mistress of Barak's home, I would have a share in i
t. I could hardly wait for the time when their affair would culminate in marriag
e, but in the end she married Barak's younger brother, Karl. Van couldn't face l
ife in the country although, like me, she loved this house. Oh, I think my siste
r genuinely loved Barak, but it evidently wasn't a deep enough love or she'd hav
e been prepared to live here ... So I've had to wait ten years. After Vanessa ma
rried Karl I lived
in fear that Barak would marry someone else, because then I had only my resembla
nce to Van with which to keep him interested. But this last year or two, I've kn
own that my dreams would eventuate in reality. After I left school he started to
notice me as a woman, and of course I'm even more like Vanessa now ... I'm at t
he age she was when they were in love.'
Denise sat down again, and as she stopped talking, she looked at Nicola expectan
tly.
`What do you want me to say?' Nicola asked flatly. For some reason it had hurt h
er to learn that Denise apparently loved Barak's home more than she loved Barak.
And this teenager's dreams would come true, because she reminded him of her dea
d sister, and Barak had loved Vanessa. That Denise should use that old love to g
ain her ends ... It was cruel, Nicola thought suddenly.
At the same time, she could feel pity for the willowy girl sitting opposite her.
It must be a terrible form of possession, to be so driven by a desire for somet
hing as material as a house and its contents.
Ì suppose you think I'm grasping and acquisitive?' Denise commented with cool a
musement.
Ì don't know,' Nicola said honestly. 'It hardly seems fair to Barak as a man to
use your likeness to your sister in order to become mistress of his house, but
on the other hand, I can see how badly you want to be part of this, so why not u
se any means to achieve it?'
Èxactly. All's fair in love ... and I love this house, is that it?' said Denise
.
Ì suppose so,' Nicola said doubtfully. It was ridi-culous that she should feel
so hurt for Barak's sake,
offended that anyone should rate his house above the man himself. 'Do you love h
im at all?' she asked in a small voice.
Denise shrugged. 'I suppose I do to some extent. I don't find the idea of being
married to him actually distasteful, at any rate. But I will regret the fetters
marriage puts on me. What would be ideal would be for me to have this house and
remain free. I'd be in my element then. After all, I'm only eighteen and there a
re so many things I want to experience.'
`Why hurry into marriage, then?' Nicola said care-fully. 'You seem to be fairly
sure of Barak, so wouldn't he wait for you?'
Ì can wait for marriageI can't wait any longer for the house,' Denise said fierc
ely. 'It must be mine, and soon now. I've waited long enough ... most of my life
, in fact. I won't do so any longer. That's why I must ask you, Nicola, not to l
et whatever there is between you and Barak progress. It might delay our marriage
. I know you can't help what's happened; Barak is a man, after all.'
`There's nothing I like better than a good clich,' Nicola snapped, suddenly resen
ting the fact that Barak's interest in her was of a purely physical nature.
Denise smiled ruefully at herself. 'It happens to be true.'
Ì'm not interested in Barak, so you needn't have any fears of my distracting hi
m during the final lap to the altar,' Nicola assured the other girl.
`No, but I'll be glad when you've gone,' Denise said frankly. 'I know Barak find
s you attractive.'
Nicola didn't want to talk about Barak any more.
Introspection had made her aware of the ambivalence of her feelings towards him,
and had taught her that she would need to walk carefully in future while she re
mained in his home.
She said lightly, 'It won't be long nowTraugott's portrait will be completed very
soon.'
Denise appeared to be satisfied with that, and left shortly afterwards to go and
see Barak among the avocado plantations.
That evening Nicola studied herself in the mirror when she was preparing for din
ner. She was wearing a dress with tiny black flowers all over it, and although i
t made the colour of her hair look richer than usual and its cut emphasised the
slimness of her waist, she wasn't sure if it suited her. Oh well, black fitted h
er mood, she thought impatiently as she banged down her hairbrush and lifted her
head in a sharp angry movement, so that the long auburn hair swirled about her
shoulders.
She noticed angrily that her face was paler than usual. The hollows at her templ
es were shadowy, and her high cheekbones were more accentuated than ever.
`Bony face,' Nicola mocked her reflection irritably, before going out to the fro
nt veranda where the Soren-sens were already gathering with their pre-dinner dri
nks.
After dinner was over, Barak joined them in the lounge for coffee.
Àren't you seeing Denise tonight, Barak?' Ellen enquired.
`No,' he said shortly, and Ellen looked offended. `Well, she was over here this
afternoon, wasn't she?' Traugott said peaceably. 'I saw her come out of the
house and join you on the top plantation while I was up at the windmill.'
Barak didn't reply. He remained silent for most of the time they were in the lou
nge, and as Nicola was in a similar state, most of the conversation came from El
len and Traugott.
Barak was looking strained, Nicola thought, eyeing him covertly. His dark face w
as shadowy, and harsh lines appeared deeply grooved, bracketing his hard mouth a
nd interwoven about his eyes. He sat in silence, smoking, and seeming to stare t
hrough Ellen and Traugott to a place in the distance, and Nicola wished she coul
d see that faraway place too, and share in his looking.
Perhaps he was starting to discover that Denise was an unsatisfactory substitute
for Vanessa. How could she prove otherwise? If the girl had brought to him a lo
ving instead of merely a desire to live in his house, he might not now be lookin
g as he did, as if he found little pleasure in the world. The spectre of Vanessa
-must be with him, Nicola thought. Did he find that Denise was not after all so
very like her sister? He and Vanessa had loved, but this second time around, wi
th the younger sister, there was only the wish to re-create the past where he wa
s concerned, and a burning ambi-tion to be mistress of his home on Denise's part
.
Was that what had drawn those lines about his mouth?- The discovery that Denise
only looked like the woman he had loved? For every human being was different, in
compliance with the miracle of life, Nicola knew, and for Barak, Denise would s
ooner or later start to appear merely a picture of her sister. Like a
bad painting, Nicola thought, where a scene is por-trayed flatly on the canvas,
merely echoing faintly what the artist has seen, and lacking all the inward fact
ors and depths of what had been reality. Barak would find Denise only superficia
lly like Vanessa, and her spirit would look empty to him, because he searched on
ly for Vanessa's spirit, not seeing the girl Denise as an in-dividual young woma
n.
Looking at his face, Nicola thought that the dis-appointing process of finding D
enise unlike Vanessa had already begun. Disillusionment might make him look like
that.
She found herself wanting to go across the room to him, and touch his face; to d
raw the tenseness out of him and make him smile with eyes that looked only at he
r. She wanted to put her arms about those firm shoulders, and touch the dark hai
r, and feel the warmth of him, and see the ardour in his eyes, and know that for
him, all thoughts of two tawny-haired women had melted away, and he was aware o
f only one, Nicola Prenn, who loved him
Nicola's face was a pale, stiff mask as she came to self-knowledge. How had she
travelled to reach this bitter loving? She had resented him, yet had felt in-ter
est in him; she had desired him, and insisted to her-self that she disliked him;
and through the tortuous passage of pain she had come to this longing to know t
hat she was loved by him, that she was the only woman for him. How had it grown
up? Nicola ques-tioned herself blindly, unable to discover that physical and emo
tional formula which had brought her to this knowledge of her own heart.
Presently Melanie entered, clad for bed, to say goodnight and demand that her un
cle come and tuck her in.
`What's wrong with you, Nicola?' the child asked, coming to stand in front of he
r and contemplating her gravely. 'You look funny ... as if you had a pain inside
you.'
I have, Nicola wanted to cry. It was a pain which scorched deep into her, explai
ning the empty unful-filled feeling which had nagged continuously at her lately.
`Yes, I've noticed you were looking pale, Nicola,' Ellen said, examining her fac
e. 'I think you've also got thinner since you came here. Perhaps our climate dis
-agrees with you.'
Òr perhaps it's the company,' Barak said coldly as he stood up. He walked out o
f the room, leaving Melanie to follow.
Ellen sighed. 'Oh dear, Barak is always in such a bad mood these days. I suppose
he's still not sure of Denise and it's preying on his nerves.'
Nicola didn't answer. She was looking inward, with hazel eyes grown dark; lookin
g at what she had been, what she had become.
There had been such freedom once, until she had come here. She had walked in tha
t freedom, all her life, and none could tie her, but now she lay in chains, and
there could be no walking out of this bondage be-cause it was love which impriso
ned her; a love which had a frightening power because, reciprocated, it could ha
ve lifted her up to touch the heavens of a searing
joy, but unrequited, it dragged her down into black misery and despair.
And her despair was all the more painful for Nicola because a new wisdom told he
r that there could be no going back along the road which had led her to this. Yo
u couldn't retreat from love.
CHAPTER SIX
NICOLA worked energetically on Traugott's portrait for the next few mornings, an
d they were both tired by the time they went in to lunch each day, but within a
few days Nicola was satisfied that one more morning's work would see the picture
completed. After that she would leave, she decided thankfully. Both Ellen and T
raugott had suggested that she stay on for a while after her task was completed,
and if it hadn't been for Barak, Nicola might have accepted their invitation. T
here was so much here that she would enjoy painting; she had come to believe tha
t the Soutpansberg was the most beautiful region in South Africa.
But Barak was here ... so she couldn't possibly stay on. She would do herself no
good by remaining here, constantly upset by his presence, disturbed by him She
would only wear herself out, loving him and know-ing that his heart had gone to
the grave with the dead girl who had been his brother's wife.
That afternoon Nicola and Melanie walked to the copse from which Melanie had com
e running on the day of Nicola's arrival. Nicola had started painting the
woody scene because Melanie had expressed a wish to own a picture of 'my trees'.
The work was a secret be-tween them, one in which Melanie took solemn en-joymen
t, and Nicola aimed to finish it that day.
When they reached the spot, Nicola set up her easel in an open space on the side
of the track opposite to the trees, and Melanie, who was not interested in watc
hing her at work, went running off, a small figure in blue jeans who was soon lo
st to sight among the trees.
Nicola smiled to herself as she set to work. She wondered what imaginative games
Melanie enacted on her own in the coolness among the trees. It was a very speci
al place for the little girl, and certainly not some-where for adults. Nicola ha
d learnt that even Martin and Erika Lewis were only rarely invited to bring thei
r solid persons to join the shadowy figures who peopled Melanie's games.
Nicola had not been painting long when she glanced up and sighed impatiently. To
dd Baxter was coming up the lane on foot, and he was one of the last people she
wanted to see.
She didn't even smile in his direction. He was still a fair way off, so Nicola c
ontinued painting for a while. Then she stepped back and examined the canvas. It
was a small one and had needed even less work than she had anticipated, and any
further additions would spoil it. She disliked painting on so small a scale as
it made her feel confined and inhibited, but Melanie had wanted something which
would look well in her own bedroom.
No, there was nothing to be added, she decided, and started to tidy up her paint
s.
`Nicola darling!' Todd exclaimed warmly as he reached her.
Òh, hullo, Todd,' Nicola greeted him indifferently. `What are you doing here?'
He came forward and caught her hands in his. `What do you think? A girl like you
ought to be con-fident that every visitor has 'come exclusively to see her.'
À girl like me doesn't fall for flattery,' Nicola re-torted. She released her h
ands from his grasp.
Todd pushed at a stray lock of his floppy brown hair and eyed her with a smile.
'One could hardly call this a warm welcome ! I'm disappointedI expected better of
you, Nicola. Aren't you at all glad to see me?'
`No, not if you're going to continue in this vein,' she said bluntly.
`But haven't you missed me?' Todd persisted. Ì hadn't noticed your absence,' sh
e said drily. `Heartless woman ! I've been in Johannesburg
again,' he told her, and paused expectantly.
Òh yes?' said Nicola, examining her painting again. Òh yes, indeed,' Todd reto
rted. 'I saw your father while I was there.'
Òh!' Nicola said, with genuine interest this time. `How was he, Todd?'
Às well as ever,' he said.
`Still painting?' she asked.
`With the greatest enthusiasm,' Todd assured her.
He took her hands again, but Nicola hardly noticed, so intent was she on yet ano
ther reappraisal of the painting.
He peered at her more closely now and said, 'But as
for you, now I come to think of it, you're not looking too bright, darling. What
's up with you? Could it be that I'm finally beginning to wear you down at last?
'
`Nobody can say you aren't persistent,' Nicola said sardonically.
`Then you'll come out with me tonight, won't you?' he said persuasively.
`No, I won't,' Nicola said, abandoning interest in the painting. She pulled her
hands away from Todd.
`What an obstinate creature you are,' he said re-sentfully. 'What's wrong with y
ou, that you're not pre-pared to enter into a little fun? We could get on very w
ell together.'
`Why can't you take no for an answer?' Nicola de-manded impatiently. 'I've told
you I don't want to go out with you, Todd. It's not what's wrong with me but wha
t's wrong with you that could be my reason for that. Do you imagine any girl wit
h sense is going to see a married man as a good bet for some of that fun you're
always going on about?' she taunted. 'I prefer my men friends to be singleand you
ng,' she added mockingly, remembering what she had once said about his fear of a
ge.
Todd looked angry. 'I can see you've been influ-enced by those Sorensens,' he sa
id viciously. 'And I suppose they've had a hand in setting you against me. Why d
on't you judge me for yourself, instead of heed-ing their opinions? As I've said
, we ought to be very compatible.'
Ì doubt it,' Nicola said shortly, tired of Todd and the whole conversation.
Ì don't. Let me prove it to you,' he said, attempting to draw her into his arms
.
`Todd! Stop playing the fool,' she said sharply as he bent his head.
`Who said I was playing?' he muttered.
Nicola turned her head sharply so that his kiss landed on her cheek, instead of
her mouth as he had ob-viously intended.
`Here comes Melanie,' she said coldly, but with a sense of relief. 'Kindly let g
o of me immediatelyunless you want a nine-year-old child to see you mak-ing an ut
ter fool of yourself.'
Todd obeyed and turned to regard the approaching Melanie with angry brown eyes.
`What does that damned kid want?' he said venom-ously.
`Hullo.' Melanie stopped and stared at him unblink-ingly. 'What do you want here
, Mr Baxter?' she asked politely.
`Mr Baxter is just about to leave,' said Nicola. She heard Todd mutter a curse.
Òh,' said Melanie, still staring at him. 'Goodbye then, Mr Baxter.'
`She's certainly seeing you off with a vengeance,' Nicola murmured to Todd. 'You
'd better go.'
`Very well, then,' he said sulkily. 'I'll be seeing you some time soon, Nicola.'
Nicola hoped not. She watched him turn away and start walking down the lane once
more.
Melanie looked at her blandly. 'That's got rid of him. You don't like Mr Baxter,
do you, Nicola?'
`Not much,' Nicola agreed.
thought not, and that's why I can't understand why he was kissing you.'
Ì couldn't very well stop him just then,' Nicola said shortly. She paused, look
ing at Melanie speculatively.
Ì know what you're thinking about,' Melanie an-nounced surprisingly. 'You're wo
ndering if I'll keep it a secret again, just like the other time when he held yo
ur hands. You can trust me, Nicola.'
Nicola flushed. 'Thank you, but please remember, Melanie, that ... there oughtn'
t to be such secrets,' she concluded helplessly, looking at the child with dis-t
ressed eyes. It wasn't right that Melanie should be learning the passive deceit
embodied in saying nothing.
`No, but I can always tell what people want, and you want me to keep quiet,' Mel
anie said. 'Not that I think it'll be much use, NicolaI caught a glimpse of Uncle
Barak up at the top plantation and he could easily have seen from there.'
Of course. That would be just her luck, Nicola thought bitterly. She was fated t
o be seen by Barak when Todd was with her, as on that occasion outside Hilary's
farm.
Òh, Nicola, thank you! You've finished my picture,' Melanie's voice interrupted
her muddled train of thought.
They returned to the farmhouse and Melanie shut herself into the library in orde
r to do her homework, while Nicola, too overcome by sudden ennui to do any-thing
, sat on the front veranda and watched the distant blue mountains which were sti
ll and majestic in the late afternoon sunlight, while Donkey, the black labI
rador, lolled drowsily at her feet, twitching occasion-ally in response to his d
reams.
When she heard a step beside her on the veranda, she didn't need to turn her hea
d in order to ascertain who it was. Barak had been sure to come. Perhaps that wa
s why she had come to sit out here; to gather strength for the storm she had sub
consciously been expecting.
Her hazel eyes were frightened as she assimilated his grim expression, but she f
orced herself to remain seated, because to stand up would give away the nervous
need to attempt to match his overawing height.
`Where's Melanie?' Barak enquired coldly.
Ìn the library,' Nicola replied hastily. 'Barak ...' she began apprehensively,
stretching out a hand.
see you know what to expect,' he said drily. 'How did you know I'd seen you?'
Nicola's hand dropped into her lap. 'Melanie told me you'd been up at the top pl
antation.'
`YesMelanie,' Barak said thoughtfully, looking down at her from his imposing heig
ht. Nicola longed to stand up, but even then she would not be on a level with hi
m, although she was not a small girl.
`What about Melanie?' she asked stupidly.
Barak's control shifted and he said in low but furious tones, 'Haven't I already
pointed out how children of that age can talk out of turn?'
`Not Melanie; she knows how to hold her peace, and when to do it,' Nicola said f
lippantly, but sharply aware that she was courting danger by this attitude. Such
talk would only serve to aggravate Barak's wrath,
but she was afraid of breaking down completely if she addressed him in any other
way.
Ì suppose she's become well versed in the art of keeping a secret since you've
been here,' Barak taunted with contemptuous anger.
Ìt's an art she's always possessed,' Nicola con-tradicted him
Ànd you've reinforced it,' he snapped. 'I won't have my niece learning deceptio
n from you, Nicola, and I believe I told you before that I didn't want your affa
ir with Baxter carried out on my property. If you must meet him, do it elsewhere
. God knows, I've no right to point out what a fool you're making of yourself ov
er him; you're an adult and you can choose your own lovers but I can insist that
your cruelty to Hilary Baxter is not enacted here on this farm. If you and Baxt
er meet here, I'm in a way responsible, and I re-fuse to be a party to it.'
Nicola was too weary to argue. 'It won't happen again,' she promised him listles
sly, turning her eyes once more to the faraway blue mountains which were now cre
ased with darker purple shadows. 'Anyway, I'll be leaving soon, so you won't hav
e to worry any further.'
He was silent for a moment. 'The portrait is finished, then?'
Ìt will be by midday tomorrow,' Nicola told him briefly.
Barak's eyes were chilling. 'You'll be able to see Baxter in Johannesburg withou
t a small girl constantly present. I imagine you'll find it a relief.'
Ì won't be seeing Todd again,' Nicola said stonily.
`No?' He sounded cynical. 'Since you've been here, you've repeatedly assured me
that your affair with Baxter is over, yet you've continued to see him, and what
I saw this afternoon . .' He paused, and his eyes went to the mountains. 'I don'
t think you've been wholly truthful.'
Nicola's eyes sparkled with a rage which was deliber-ately induced. She needed a
nger as a defence against his power, and if she stopped being angry, she might s
tart weeping. She said, 'That's the worst of being away from your own homeyou hav
e no privacy. Anyone can overlook you at any time. I object to being spied on. A
s for your opinion that I'm untruthfulI don't care a damn what you think of me, B
arak ! Your opinion counts for nothing where I'm concerned, how-ever much the en
tire Soutpansberg may heed it. Why should I care?'
Barak's expression grew colder still. 'There you go again, dragging matters up t
o an emotional level.'
Ìt's better to be over-emotional than to be coldcold as ice, which you are, beca
use you left all your emotion behind in the past,' Nicola snapped. 'You're not p
repared to even appraise new emotions because you're always so busy trying to ca
pture those you had in the past.'
`You do delight in referring to that past, don't you?'
Ì feel sorry for Denise, that's all,' Nicola assured him untruthfully. 'Why can
't you look at her as some-one of today, an entity divided from any other belong
-ing to yesterday? You rob yourself of so much,' she concluded with a constricte
d feeling in her throat.
Barak looked bored. 'I'm no more interested in your
opinions than you are in mine, Nicola.'
'Then there's nothing more to be said, is there?' she said bleakly, wounded by h
is indifferent tone.
`Not a lot,' he concurred. 'However, I hope you've understood my wishes in this
matter, although I don't suppose it matters as you'll be leaving so soon. But do
n't let me find out that you've been meeting Baxter on this farmyou can do that e
lsewhere.'
Ì've told youI won't be meeting him again,' Nicola flared.
Àm I expected to believe that after what I witnessed this afternoon?' Barak sai
d scornfully. 'You may actu-ally believe your protests that your affair is over,
but you seem to have some difficulty in delivering the death-blow. How much mor
e time do you and Baxter need to finalise the end of a casual affair? It's a lon
g, long goodbye the pair of you have been exchanging since you came up here. I t
hink you lack the strength of mind to bring it to its conclusion ... You mention
ed a painful lingering death to me once, but this is ridiculous. Parting should
be a swift severanceit's less painful that way.'
`Thank you for the advice,' Nicola said with sarcasm. `This mortal is honoured t
hat the god should utter for her benefit.'
Ìt wasn't intended to be advice. ButGod, Nicola!' he said with a sudden renewal
of anger. 'You're con-stantly taking it upon yourself to tell me that I'm a fool
who can't let go of the past. What about you? You seem to have more difficulty
than most women in bringing an affair to an endor don't you want it to end? You'r
e hanging on to what's over and done with,
trying to stir life into the dead ashes.'
`You know so much about it, don't you?'
Barak said, 'I know enough. But the point I'm trying to make is this; you cling
to what's over instead of going forward, and at the same time have the temerity
to accuse and condemn me of the same thing.'
`Well, it's true, isn't it?' Nicola hit back. 'At least where Todd is concerned,
there might be some life left to be squeezed out of what remains.'
His face tightened, but he only said, 'Quite a lot of life, I should say, judgin
g by the hand-holding and fond embrace this afternoon. But not on my property ag
ain, or in Melanie's presence, please, Nicola. Re-member that.'
He turned abruptly and strode into the house, leav-ing Nicola to stare at a hori
zon made wondrous by the setting sun, but it failed to move her; in fact, she ha
rdly saw it, because her eyes were dim with pain.
It probably wouldn't have improved matters be-tween them, but she wished fervent
ly that it had never been necessary for Barak to believe there existed or had ex
isted an affair between her and Todd Baxter. Of course it wouldn't help, she tho
ught impatiently, but she wanted him to see her as someone unattached, free ...
only she wasn't free, was she? Because she already belonged, utterly, to Barak S
orensen, and there would never be any freedom again.
She shrank from the agonising greyness of the future as she now beheld it. What
joy was left for her now?
If only Barak had been closer to them this afternoon, he might have realised tha
t she had found Todd's attentions unwelcome. But from the top plantation,
he would only have been able to discern the figures and their movements, while g
uessing at facial expressions.
The following morning Nicola finished the portrait without requiring Traugott fo
r any posing, so he was down in the house with his wife when she brought the lar
ge canvas in and propped it up in the lounge.
`Well, Traugott,' she said softly as she stepped back from it, 'I've given you m
y bestand before I left Johannesburg, my father said that would be my triumph.'
Ì like it, Nicola. I think it's wonderful,' Ellen said decisively.

Traugott was more cautious. He scrutinised the painting from several different a
ngles, and Nicola watched him anxiously.
la!' he breathed at last, still looking at it. Then he turned to Nicola and a br
oad smile split his tanned face. 'Will you think me vain, Nicola, if I say it is
a very handsome portrait?'
Nicola laughed and her eyes shone with relief. 'If that's so, then the credit is
yours.'
`You have your triumph,' Traugott added.
`Thank you.' Nicola inclined her head. She had a humility where her art featured
, but now that she was no longer involved with the work, she allowed herself to
judge the portrait, and she concluded that she had progressed another step in he
r education as an artist. Traugott lived and breathed on the canvas, with sunlit
farmland in the background, and he would not be disgraced by the portraits of h
is nine brothers.
`Maybe you should specialise in portraits,' Ellen sug-gested as they continued t
o examine Nicola's work.
`No, thank you,' said Nicola. Tut having done this, I won't feel inadequate agai
n if I see someone worth painting. I've proved to myself that I can paint people
in addition to the earth and sky and veld, but those last will continue to attr
act me.'
`Melanie has shown us the painting you finished for her yesterday,' Traugott com
mented. 'Ellen and I were both impressed.'
Ì enjoyed doing itas I enjoyed painting you,' Nicola said, a little shyly. She k
new she would miss these two when she left, for she had become fond of them, and
they were always kind to her.
`What sort of frame do you suggest for this?' Ellen asked.
Nicola's brow creased. Then she darted into the dining-room and looked up at Tra
ugott's nine older brothers who overlooked the round table from two walls.
Returning to the lounge, she said emphatically, 'A plain frame, very plain.'
Traugott nodded appreciatively. 'I've never liked those fancy ones, curls and wh
irls and gilt all over the place.'
`That's because you're such a simple, direct person, yourself, I think,' Nicola
stated gravely. 'Sometimes ornate frames can look wonderful. A lot depends on th
e room and its decor, of course.'
Àre you still bent on leaving tomorrow?' Ellen said wistfully.
Ì think so,' Nicola replied steadily. 'I must go. You've been so kind, and this
is a wonderful part of
the Transvaal, so I'll be sad to leave ... but I'd like to get back to my father
.'
It was as good an excuse as any, and true as well. Earlier, the elderly couple h
ad been very insistent that she remain for a while, and she didn't want to offen
d them. She knew it was more than mere courtesy which had prompted their invitat
ion :the affection she felt for them was returned with a genuine warmth.
`Then of course you must hasten back,' Traugott agreed sympathetically. He patte
d her hand approv-ingly. 'I am glad to know you are a dutiful daughter.'
Ellen caught Nicola's eye and they exchanged a smile. Ellen had told Nicola that
filial respect was something Traugott, with his strong belief in family unity,
approved of.
Nicola said, 'I'd like to go for a last drive through the Soutpansberg this afte
rnoon, if you have no objec-tion.'
`That's all right,' said Ellen. `Traugott, do see if you can find Barak and tell
him he simply must come and see the portrait at once. I can't wait for people t
o come and admire my husband ! '
Not wanting to expose herself to the weakening effect Barak had on her senses, N
icola escaped from Ellen almost immediately Traugott had left the room.
She set off on her drive immediately after lunch and, as always, the dreaming su
rroundings calmed her, allowing a measure of peace to seep into her soul, in spi
te of the pain which was constantly with her now. It was the pain of emptiness,
because yearning for Barak had made her that way, achingly unfulfilled, longing
for her love to be returned.
Nicola heaved a small sigh as she returned the wave of a now familiar old Venda.
There might come a mild serenity, instilled by this land, but it failed to compl
etely dim the fiery pain, and she thought she might find greater solace in the b
ust-ling city which had been her home very early in life and then again when she
had left Natal to attend art school. Perhaps she might find a modicum of comfor
t in all that was so dearly familiar there; the ugly modern skyscrapers, the tap
ered Brixton Tower, Northcliff mountain There would be some comfort, but would i
t be enough to ease the aching?
Was she destined to walk for ever in the shadows to which the man Barak had brou
ght her? For how long? As long as Barak had, in loving Vanessa? She knew it was
ten years since he had loved Vanessa and lost her to Karl; four years since thei
r tragic death which had left Melanie an orphan.
Nicola rebelled at the idea of her own suffering con-tinuing for so long. Her li
fe had been so pleasant once, and she resented the new darkness which had wrappe
d itself about her.
At dinner that night, Nicola glanced at the space the completed portrait would o
ccupy and the part of her which was artist, taking pride in work completed, enab
led her to smile.
`What are you smiling at?' Melanie asked from be-side her, startling her out of
her reverie.
Ì expect she's glad to be going home,' Barak said urbanely, and Nicola perceive
d that he was pronounc-ing himself to also be glad of the same thing. 'I con-gra
tulate you on the portrait, Nicola.'
`Thank you,' she said, and resumed eating. She thought wearily that she had neve
r been so miserable in her life.
Melanie also ate in silence for a while. Then she looked up. `Well!' she announc
ed, giving the impres-sion of having come to a profound conclusion. 'I think it'
s rotten of you to be glad you're leaving, Nicola.'
`Her father needs her, dear,' Ellen said gently.
Not really, but let them believe it, Nicola thought.
`But none of us wants her to go away,' Melanie per-sisted.
`True enough,' Traugott rumbled.
Barak's soft laugh was full of irony, and Nicola flushed. Yes, they would like h
er to stay; all of them except Barak. If he had wanted her to remain ... Nicola'
s heart contracted painfully. Would anything ever assuage this sense of desolati
on?
Later that night she finished packing her belongings, her dull spirit resting he
avily on her, weighing her down with despair. The telephone in the hall was ring
ing as she left her bedroom to return a book to the library, and she heard Barak
answer it. She was still in the library when he came to her, his face a tight m
ask of anger.
Nicola looked at him apprehensively. What now? She couldn't think of any reason
for him to have sought her out in this mood of controlled anger.
`Come with me,' he said abruptly, his grey eyes very dark. 'We're going out.'
`What? But Barak, where?' she demanded, fright-ened by his expression.
`Never mind that. It's just a short drive. I want to show you something.'
`You must be crazy,' she told him. 'Why should I leap to do your bidding when yo
u won't even give me a reason?'
He stared at her with narrowed eyes and she grew conscious of her appearance. Sh
e was wearing the cream panelled skirt and jade blouse with the matching necklac
e that she had worn on the first night she had been on the farm, but this time h
er hair was drawn back into a sleek knot at the back of her neck.
He said, 'I told you; I have something to show you, Nicola.'
Ì don't understand you,' Nicola did not know why she was protesting. 'It's late
and I was about to go to bed after I'd returned this book. I want to make a fai
rly early start tomorrow.'
Barak sounded suddenly tired. 'Please come.'
Àll right.' It would be self-inflicted torture, but she knew she wanted to give
way.
`Come on,' he said impatiently, gripping her arm. He steered her into the lounge
where he addressed Ellen and Traugott : 'I know it's late, but I'm taking Nicol
a up to Angel's Throne. Don't feel you have to wait up for us. You'll be able to
say goodbye in the morning.'
`What a good idea, Barak,' said Ellen, looking pleased. 'I had thought that if N
icola stayed on we could have taken her up to see it. Of course, it really ought
to be visited by day for the view, but this is better than nothing.'
Ènjoy yourselves,' Traugott adjured them as Barak, still holding Nicola's arm i
n a vice-like grip, guided
her out of the lounge and into the hall.
`What's Angel's Throne?' Nicola demanded when they were outside.
Ìt's a hotel at the top of one of the neighbouring mountains and commands rathe
r a special view,' Barak said shortly.
Instead of going to the station-wagon he used for travelling about the farm and
surrounding countryside, he opened the door of the blue Lancia Stratos which he
rarely used.
Ànd were you telling them the truth when you said we were going there?' Nicola
asked when they were on their way. She was very conscious of his nearness.
`Yes, I told them the truthwithout giving them the reason.'
Ànd what is the reason?' she enquired frigidly.
Ì had a phone call from Mr Graeme. Denise has done one of her disappearing acts
again. Of course, she made sure her parents knew where she was going first.'
As at New Year, Nicola thought bleakly. She saw Barak's grim profile in the dark
ness. Was Denise with Todd Baxter again? If so, there would be no Nicola Prenn t
his time to help her out of an awkward situation when Barak arrived.
Às you've consistently assured me that your private life is none of my business
, I find it strange that I'm now being dragged along to help round up your stray
... girl-friend. What does it mean?' she said.
'You'll soon find out.' His tone was clipped.
Às Denise isn't formally engaged to you yet, do you have any right to interfere
in her activities?' she de-manded. 'Her life ought to be her ownit's a transWALK IN THE SHADOWS 175
gression of her freedom for her parents to have told you what she was up to and
sent you chasing after her. Oh, I know twenty-one is still officially the majori
ty age in this country, but most allow their children to lead their own lives af
ter they leave school. Denise is an adult.'
`She is,' Barak concurred quietly. 'But Denise's parents worry over her behaviou
r. I have no right to interfere in her activities, but I can assist her parents
who are my friends.'
`Why is it necessary for me to come with you?' Despite herself, she could not ke
ep out a slight tremor from her voice.
He did not reply. Nicola found it uncomfortable. He would always go after Denise
, she thought dejectedly, but it wouldn't be because he loved her but because sh
e was his substitute for Vanessa.
They travelled up a steep, winding mountain road, and Nicola knew that they must
be fairly high up already. Angel's Throne was right at the top of this mountain
, a big building with several cars parked out-side.
`We won't be staying long,' Barak said abruptly as he manoeuvred the car into a
parking space.
`Barak, for the last time, why have you brought me?' Nicola questioned him despe
rately.
`You'll soon see.' He came round the car and opened her door for her, but Nicola
didn't move.
Ì don't know ...' her voice trailed off.
Ìf you're worried about not being suitably dressed, you can relax,' he assured
her impatiently.
She got out of the car slowly and he slammed the
door. 'We'll just have coffee or something, have a word with Denise, and then we
'll go straight home,' he said as he guided her through the car park.
They entered a big long room and a courteous Venda waiter, who evidently knew Ba
rak, escorted them to a small table away from the open floor where dancing was g
oing on to the music of a band.
Nicola looked about her as Barak was ordering coffee. Huge windows ran all the w
ay down both sides of the room and she realised that from such a height the view
would be magnificent in daylight. There were people at most of the other tables
, some lingering over a late dinner, but most were merely sitting over cups or g
lasses; probably taking time off from the dance floor, she thought.
Òver there is what we're looking for.' Barak directed her gaze to the dancers.
Nicola looked and grew disconcerted. 'Oh ! ' she exclaimed, a hand going to her
mouth, although it was what she had half expected to see.
Denise Graeme and Todd Baxter were in each other's arms, dancing to the slow rhy
thm produced by the band. Denise had her head on Todd's shoulder and she looked
young and healthy and beautiful in a bleached shantung dress which was wholly pl
ain, its simple lines showing off her slim figure to perfection, while her tawny
hair gleamed under the soft lights.
`Do you see what they both are?' Barak said as their coffee arrived.
Nicola poured out for both of them, with some dif-ficulty because her hands were
trembling. She glanced surreptitiously at him. His face looked darker than
ever and there were lines of tension about his mouth as he watched the dancing c
ouple. She saw that every muscle in his face was taut, and his hands were clench
ed.
She said, 'Perhaps Denise is just looking for a little gaiety. She's too young t
o want to be tied down now, but given time ...'
Her voice trailed off. She knew she was saying what was untrue for the sake of d
riving that hard cynical look away from his face.
Barak glanced at her briefly and he was inscrutable again, although his eyes rem
ained dark. 'Whatever makes you think Denise cares about me, Nicola?'
Nicola gulped and looked away from him. His voice had been totally expressionles
s.
Then he said with faint humour, 'You're present at an historic occasion. This is
the last time I shall fetch Denise from the places she ends up in when the mood
takes her to bolt.'
In silence he drained his coffee. 'You're shocked. We'll leave as soon as we've
had a word with Denise and Baxter. They're going outside now. We'll follow.'
Nicola nodded silently. She left the coffee unfinished and when Barak had paid t
hey went out after Todd and Denise.
The hotel garden was criss-crossed by narrow stone paths, concealed by shrubbery
and hanging creepers, and it was along one of these that Barak and Nicola follo
wed the other couple, guided by the sound of Denise's inimitable breathless youn
g laughter.
Then there was silence and, rounding a curve, they
came upon them, looked in each other's arms, their mouths joined.
Nicola drew a sharp, shocked breath, causing Denise and Todd to separate hastily
. She shouldn't have ac-companied Barak, she thought, feeling his hand on her ar
m. She glanced anxiously at him but, in the light from the lanterns hanging in t
he trees, she could detect no trace of distress in the dark face.
`Barak?' Denise was the first to find her voice and she used it in entreaty, put
ting out an appealing hand and moving away from Todd.
`Yes, Denise?' Barak's tone was cold.
`You must understand ...' the girl began falteringly, yet there was something in
her tawny eyes that hinted at satisfaction.
Ì understand only too well,' he told her coolly, now releasing Nicola's arm. Ev
en without the physical con-tact, however, she could still sense the anger that
he was containing. 'This is the last time, Denise. It hasn't worked, you know, i
t's not working, it never will work.'
A light seemed to die in the girl's eyes. 'You mean ...?'
Ì mean that I know what it's all about, what's been motivating your recent beha
viour,' Barak continued quietly, but there was something nevertheless hard in hi
s voice. 'I just thought I'd let you know before you make even more of a fool of
yourselfand before you really get into trouble,' he added, his freezing glance f
licking over Todd.
Todd's face was flushed and his manner was trucu-lent as he said, 'Here, you can
't talk like that, Sorensen. I don't like your tone at all.'
Barak's smile was sardonic. 'You'll like it even less if you don't leave Denisean
d Nicolaalone in future.'
Ì won't take that from you!' Todd exclaimed bel-ligerently, taking a step forwa
rd and then hesitating, perhaps realising the power that was leashed in Barak's
lithe physique. He glanced at Nicola with a weak smile. Àre you going to stand
for it, Nicola darling? Let him dictate on your affairs as well as Denise's?'
Nicola moved instinctively closer to Barak, and Denise watched her with hard nar
rowed eyes.
`We've heard enough, Baxter,' Barak said quietly, still exercising that iron con
trol. 'God knows, you're entitled to live your life as you please, but even Hila
ry's patience is wearing a bit thin. That's just a warning.'
He had turned away, but Todd's voice arrested him. Ì haven't finished yet, Sore
nsen.'
`But I have,' Barak told him. 'When you start acting your age, perhaps you'll fi
nd people prepared to give you a hearing. Until then, however ... I'm taking Den
ise home, so you might as well get going.'
Nicola half expected Todd to carry on the argument, but he must have thought bet
ter of it, because suddenly he moved away from them, still blustering furiously,
`You'll regret this. You've no right to take this attitude and I'll see to it t
hat you're sorry ! '
Denise Graeme forced a laugh. 'You've made an enemy, Barak.'
He ignored her. 'Let's go,' he said.
From the parking ground came the sound of a car engine being revved furiously an
d the next moment they heard the screech of tyres on gravel as Todd's car travel
led wildly away.
Barak shrugged his shoulders.
`What are you doing here, Nicola?' Denise asked coldly. 'Barak, we must talk.'
`Not now, for God's sake,' he said impatiently as they reached the Lancia Strato
s. 'Get in, Denise, and don't argue.'
They made the winding descent in silence, the two girls sharing the passenger se
at. Parked outside the Graeme farmhouse, however, Denise made another appeal to
Barak, 'Please ... please let's talk.'
Ì'll see you tomorrowyou and your parents,' he added. 'Right now, I've had enoug
h of you. You can go inside and let your parents know you're home. Per-haps you
can apologise for unnecessarily causing them distress. Because it was unnecessar
y, Denise, as you must realise by now.'
Denise paused outside the car and the look she gave Nicola was icy.
Nicola stared after her anxiously. 'Will she be all right?' she asked tentativel
y.
`Denise will always be all right,' he said.
They started the drive home in silence. She thought inconsequentially that Vanes
sa must have been mad to choose Karl instead of him Melanie ought to have been B
arak's daughter instead of just his niece. After a while she started to weep sil
ently.
He said at once, 'Stop it, Nicola. It won't help matters if you cry. It's not wo
rth it. Perhaps I was brutal to do things this way, but ,I had to make you see w
hat you were ... wasting yourself on. There'll be other better men than Todd. So
don't prolong it any further, will you? Let go now, Nicola.'
He removed his hand from the steering-wheel to touch her wrist briefly. Nicola,
trying to stop her tears, didn't reply for the moment. If that was what he thoug
htthat she was crying because of Toddthen she would let that be, because she knew
he would hate the thought that her weeping was born of sympathy for him. Barak S
orensen wouldn't want sympathy. Let him think she didn't care about his pain.
Nicola swallowed and said, 'Stop being so damned kind : you're not the guardian
of my happiness.'
She lied, because he was just that, but the angry tone she had forced herself to
employ would serve to return them to their earlier antagonistic footing.
He was silent until they reached the farmhouse which was in darkness. He switche
d on one of the wall lamps in the lounge and looked at Nicola in such a way that
she became conscious of her appearance and lifted a hand to touch the smooth kn
ot at the nape of her neck.
Àll right now?' he asked, quite gently.
`Yes,' Nicola said curtly, moving to stand at the door which led to the veranda
outside her room.
He moved nearer to her. 'I'm sorry if you think I was cruel to do it that way,'
he said expressionlessly, continuing to look down at her. 'It wasn't to humiliat
e you.'
Òh no,' Nicola taunted, needing to defend because she was still thinking of wha
t he must be suffering and was frightened of revealing compassion. 'You were mer
ely employing the old and honoured practice of being cruel to be kind, I suppose
.'
Ùnfortunately yes,' he said. He put his hands to her waist. 'Nicola?'
His eyes dropped to the gentle curve of her mouth, and she swayed slightly towar
ds him. Her eyelids grew heavy with desire; desire which swept over her in great
, weakening waves, and she moved closer to him until her trembling body was pres
sed against his, her hands going up to grasp his shoulders.
`Barak ! ' she murmured against his skin in soft en-treaty as she felt his hands
move from her waist, up over her back.
She had carried with her the memory of the other time he had kissed her, but she
was still unprepared for the assault on her senses as his mouth sought hers thi
s time. Her fingers were entwined in his dark hair as she moved her body against
his, transmitting her urgency to him and feeling the warmth of his body through
his shirt.
It seemed a fiery eternity before he lifted his mouth from hers. Through a haze
of weakness she heard him groan and mutter something as his trembling fingers re
moved her necklace and dropped it on to the low table beside them. Then he was l
oosening her silky hair from its knot, running his fingers through its fine text
ure, and unbuttoning her blouse.
`Nicola darlingNicola!' he said with an intensity which she had never heard from
anyone before. His lips against her neck were warm, and she felt herself quiveri
ng as his hands caressed her breasts, while her own were busy with his shirt but
tons. The passion which had detonated between them drove all restraint from her
and she drew his head down again when he
would have lifted it, giving a shuddering sigh as his mouth touched hers once mo
re.
She didn't know for how long they kissed, but gradually the clarity was returnin
g to her mind, and presently she withdrew from him and, after a moment, managed
to say soberly, 'I don't know if this is because you're hurt, or because you thi
nk I'm hurt by this evening's eventsbut no!'
Barak's expression was unreadable. He stretched out a hand towards her, then dro
pped it. `Go, then, Nicola,' he said harshly. As she hesitated, he added, 'Go on
. Goodnight.'
Blindly Nicola turned and left him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT seemed to Nicola as if she had hardly gone to bed when it was time to get up
again. Her rest had been brief and wakeful, because she had lain awake for a lon
g time at first, tormented by thoughts of Barak, and he had even haunted the lit
tle sleep she managed to get, so that she had woken several times.
As she ate a hurried breakfast, Ellen told her that Barak had gone out. To see t
he Graemes, Nicola sup-posed.
Ì can't think why he hasn't returned to say goodbye to you,' Ellen said in worr
ied tones as the time for Nicola's departure approached.
Òh ... we said goodbye last night,' Nicola lied
hastily as she put down her knife and fork, unable to eat anything more.
`That's all right, then.' Ellen sounded relieved. 'I hope you had a good time at
Angel's Throne.'
`Yes, thank you,' Nicola said soberly. A good time ! She thought of the pain and
the yearning and the way the evening had come to a conclusion, and she smiled w
eakly.
`Don't forget to write to us,' Traugott adjured her.
Ànd you must come back some time,' Melanie in-sisted. She was dressed in her sc
hool uniform already, and Ellen would take her to school soon. She added, Òh ye
s ! I nearly forgot to tell you, Nicola. That neck-lace you were wearing last ni
ght ... I saw it in the lounge. Don't forget it.'
Nicola blushed. 'Thank you,' she murmured.
Melanie stared at her, apparently intrigued by her deepening colour. 'How did it
come to be there?'
Ì really can't think,' said Nicola, attempting to speak lightly, and even in th
e midst of her embarrassment and unhappiness she was able to look at the child w
ith affectionate eyes and think how much she would miss that sober little counte
nance.
`That's what Uncle Barak said when I showed it to him before he went out,' Melan
ie added. 'Where's he gone, Aunt Ellen? Who was it that phoned so early this mor
ning?'
Ì don't know, Melanie. Barak didn't tell me. Eat up, dear.'
After breakfast, Nicola fetched the jade necklace from the lounge, packed it, an
d went outside. She wanted a last look at the farm she had grown to love.
There was the high wall over which she had pushed Melanie. The memory of the rab
id dog couldn't even make her shudder because there were so many other things wh
ich had affected her more profoundly ...
She wandered up to the semi-circle of ashes and looked down on the Vendas workin
g and singing on the plantations below. Further down was Melanie's special copse
of trees. Nicola's eyes softened. She was very conscious this morning of the af
fection she had come to feel for the solemn little girl.
She walked down again, to the stretch of land between the house and the gum-tree
plantation. It was from here that she had been painting the mountain that first
afternoon when Barak had come and ... Well, in some strange way, they had commu
nicated that day. He had even admitted it.
And now there was not even to be a goodbye. It seemed wrong that there should be
no farewell ex-changed between them ...
But perhaps last night had been in the nature of a farewell. She lifted a hand i
n a gesture that was half mocking, half sad. Barak would forget, but she would g
o on rememberingfor ever.
She stared unseeingly up at the mountain as she stood there, experiencing a pain
which was no less in-tense for being, by this time, familiar. There could be no
remedy, of that she was sure. She thought of Barak continuing to love Vanessa f
or years after her death, and she despaired, because she was afraid of knowing t
hat sort of bondage. She didn't want years and years of nothingness, grey years
with only
memories colourful. Would she ever emerge from the shadows?
When she got home she might travel to Natal and spend some time with her grandpa
rents, she thought sadly. It was a health-giving region, the coast, but she real
ised that it would take more than ozone to cure her complaint. A sad yearning se
eped through her as she recalled all their exchanges and, in particular, his kis
ses.
Was there no help for what ailed her?. No forgetting, ever? Would there always r
emain these shadows, whatever she did?
And her painting? She needed joy to be able to paint, she realised with sudden f
ear. She recalled her father saying he could see painting taking second place in
her life. He had been right about that, she conceded now. And without the man w
ho was of primary im-portance to her, could her second love mean anything? She n
eeded the first now to find joy in the second.
She dragged herself back to the present and, finding herself still gazing up at
the mountain, thoughthow stupid, how sentimental, to have come here because she a
nd Barak had once talked here. Their relationship, if it could be so termed, had
no future, and she ought to get away from here as quickly as possible ... now .
.. at once !
She turned, then started to shake as she saw Barak coming towards her, tall, cas
ually dressed, immeasur-ably beloved.
So there would, after all, be a farewell.
As he reached her, he said easily, 'I meant to be back earlier than this.' He pa
used, his eyes giving nothing
away, no hint if he recalled last night's events, as they swept over her face. H
is mouth twisted slightly. 'First, I'd better tell youTodd Baxter crashed his car
last night.'
For a moment she hardly took it in. Then something in his tone made her ask, 'De
ad?'
Barak inclined his head, watching her carefully. `Yes. Fortunately the road was
deserted, so he didn't take anyone with him He was driving wildly and went over
the mountainside.'
`How ... how awful,' Nicola said inadequately. 'And Hilary?'
Still those light grey eyes never left her face. 'Hilary is ... free now, with a
second chance for happiness. But I imagine her experience with Baxter will have
made her a very wary woman. I doubt if he'd have ... grown up.'
`Yes,' Nicola agreed absently, still busy assimilating the fact of Todd's death.
'And Denise? Is ... is she upset?'
Às distressed as she'd be over anyone. She and Baxter had a lot in common I've
been with her and her parents this morning. We talked for a long time and it's f
inally been decided that Denise is to go to Europe. Initially she'll be looking
up some distant relatives in Scotland, and then she wants to go on to the Dante
Alighieri translators' school in Italy.'
Nicola didn't know what to say. How was he feel-ing? She wanted to keep him talk
ing; it would be good-bye for ever soon enough. Something struck her and she sai
d tentatively, 'But I thought ... the Graemes can't afford that sort of thing?'
Then enlightenment dawned and she stared at him wonderingly. He would even do th
is for Denise, or at least for Denise's ultimate good.
He said, and she thought he sounded rueful, 'The Graemes are, in a way, family,
Nicola.'
She was shaking again, perhaps because of the way he was looking at her, as if h
e sought to read her mind by scrutinising her face.
How much was she giving away? She was genuinely frightened by her own lack of co
ntrol and she said hastily, 'It's goodbyes all round, then ... I must make my de
parture now too.'
`You don't sound very happy about it,' he com-mented, sounding amused. 'Why, I w
onder?'
`Why are you so cruel? You're always mock-ing' Nicola began, then stopped, horrif
ied to hear her voice break and feel the tears welling up behind her eyes.
She stood helplessly before him, unbearably humili-ated and desperately unhappy,
while the slow tears trickled over her cheeks. She could do nothing, neither st
op the tears nor turn and leave him. She simply stood there, all control and dig
nity removed from her.
Òh, Nicola!' Now there was amused exasperation in his voice. 'You know my feeli
ngs on weeping women.'
Ì can't help it,' she protested crossly.
Ì can see that. Poor Nicola, are you very unhappy?' he asked, and now his tone
altered to become oddly gentle, although it held an undercurrent of laughter. Ì
'm beginning to think I'll have to provide you with the same remedy as Denise. H
ow will it suit you,
Kola? I must make arrangements for you to go to ,Europe toowith one of your marri
ed men.'
Nicola looked at him quickly, her eyes suspicious, defensive.
He continued, and now he was smiling in the strangest way. 'A very happily marri
ed man, and you'll share his name, of course.'
`Barak ! ' she said sharply, hardly daring to breathe. `What are you talking abo
ut?'
He moved closer to her, his eyes alight with laughter and something else that ma
de her catch her breath. 'I trust you believe in those delightful interludes cal
led honeymoons?'
`Butbut ...' She stared at him, wholly bewitched by that light in his eyes, tryin
g to understand his mean-ing. It just wasn't possible. 'Tell me straight, Barak,
' she begged eventually.
`Tell you what?' he asked, drawing her into the circle of his arm. 'That I'm tot
ally unable to resist you?'
`What about Denise?' she demanded, still not believ-ing what was happening.
He sighed, puffing her closer against him, and Nicola didn't resist him. She cou
ld feel the tension in him, and her own body trembled.
Às I said just now, the Graemes are, in a way, family. Her parents couldn't cop
e with Denise, and I, much to my regret, made myself responsible for her. I knew
she coveted my home, but it was only recently that I discovered that both she a
nd her parents had categorised me as the child's unofficial fianc. I dispel-led t
hat illusion this morning. Denise's recent be190 WALK IN THE SHADOWS
haviour has been aimed at making me see her as a woman, but it had the opposite
effect. She has an old mind, but she's immature in many ways. Incidentally, she
dispelled an illusion of mine too this morning. She was too distraught to be car
eful in referring to New Year's Eve's events. I must say it was typical of Denis
e. Typical of Nicola too.' He moved a hand to caress her cheek.
`So you know that ... that there was nothing?' Nicola murmured. Ì know. Your reaction just now to the news about Baxter, your concern about Hil
ary and Denise's re-, actions, confirmed what I got out of Denise. Besides which
,' he continued drily, 'I had a few words with Melanie this morning and she enli
ghtened me, after a little prompting, as to the difference between holding hands
and having your hands held. She also mentioned the unavoidability of certain em
braces and informed me that you didn't much like Baxter. So there we have it. Ju
st one thing; what was making you so unhappy last night if it wasn't Baxter?'
Ì was ... upset for you. I thought you were sad be-cause Denise ... because ...
'
`That was kind of you, but totally unnecessary,' he assured her.
`But, Barak ...' Nicola stirred against him and lifted her face in order to see
his.
`But what?' he demanded. 'You're not still imagin-ing that I was trying to make
Denise a substitute for Vanessa? I know I never actually put you right about tha
t idea, and Denise, Ellen ... everyone ... probably
assisted in fostering it, but you were completely wrong there.'
It was the beginning of belief and the beginning of joythe end of pain. Nicola li
fted her arms, put them round his neck and said, 'I'm so glad. Oh, Barak, I love
you so terribly !'

`So wonderfully, darling,' he corrected her gently, and there was an infinite te
nderness in the way he caressed her.
His arms tightened about her and she was shaken by the expression in his eyes as
, he went on, 'When you came here, I wanted you, and shortly afterwards I found
myself loving you. That was why I hated you to mention Vanessa. You came with al
l your bright new-ness, making her fade. That was a young love, darling. Where y
ou are concerned, Nicola, I love you with a man's love for a woman, and I need a
nd want you.'
Nicola lifted her mouth to his, but not before taking a happy, wondering look at
his face. She had seen the dawn before, but no lightening sky had ever given he
r the rapture she now experienced in seeing the soften-ing of the beloved dark f
ace above hers. Then her lids fell over her eyes and her lips parted as he lower
ed his head to ignite her need of him. His hands caressing her were gentle at fi
rst, bringing her to a slow awakening; then they grew urgent and demanding as th
eir shared passion mounted and he felt her response.
Presently he took his mouth away from hers, mur-muring, 'You still haven't told
me if you approve of a European honeymoon.'
Nicola's eyes were alight. 'You only told me, you didn't ask me.'
Then, as his arms tightened again, she whispered his name urgently as she moved
against him.
Ì knows darling,' he murmured, and she didn't question his understanding but me
rely sighed happily as she read her future in his eyes and gave herself up to th
e matchless sensation of being cherished.

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WALK IN THE SHADOWS

end her father's spur-of-the-moment party instead of accept-ing other invitation

`Sorensen? That's a Scandinavian name, isn't it?' she said.

een before; Nylstroom, Naboomspruit, Potgietersrus, the important Pieters-burg,

in. You can hand her over to Sarah in the kitchen.'

rt of person who feels things.'

, but by his sensitivity in per-ceiving what their feelings might be if he had p

ving little thought to whether silence might not be more tactful.

isappointed and we promised her this.'

100 WALK IN THE SHADOWS

rivers. Rabies was hydrophobia ... surely you didn't die?

`That's all right,' he said drily. 'Incidentally, Melanie appears to be totally

ad Denise constantly at his side.

angry antagonism. That at least would have been posi-tive.

`Nicola! What happened?' Robert sounded hor-rified.

`Yes?' He looked and sounded sceptical.

`I like it, Nicola. I think it's wonderful,' Ellen said decisively.

you so terribly !'

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