East of Barryvale Read online

  Jacqueline changed gear and crawled along at a snail's pace, the wipers making a seemingly useless effort to wipe the water off the windscreen. Visibility was bad and she shivered slightly in the chill that always accompanied such a storm.

  Misfortune struck two miles from the tarred road. The car was bumping along on the uneven gravel road when a dark shape loomed up ahead. Jacqueline slammed on the brakes, causing the engine to stall, and watched with thud­ding heart as a cow moved off into the veld, quite un­perturbed by the car that had stopped so close to her. She shook her head and pressed the starter. As the engine sprang to life, she changed into low gear and released the clutch. The engine raced on, but the car remained rooted to the spot as the wheels dug deeper into the soft earth.

  "Damn!" she muttered to herself, switching off the engine and pushing the gear lever into neutral. Taking off her shoes, she ventured out into the rain, and wading ankle deep in the mud and slosh she endeavoured to push the small car on to firmer ground. But her meagre strength was useless and the only result she achieved from the effort was to get herself drenched. Her thin cotton dress clung to her slim figure, accentuating her small waistline, and her fair hair was plastered to her head when she eventually scrambled into the car and shut out the driving rain. There was nothing else to do but to wait patiently until someone came along who could tow her out of the mud.

  She shivered as a drop of water trickled down her back, and it was only then that the enormity of her dilemma be­came clear to her. It might be hours before anyone passed along this deserted road, and in the interim she might be needed at the hospital.,

  "I shall have to ask for your resignation," she recalled

  Meldon Powers saying. "It must never happen again."

  "Oh, no!" she moaned softly, visualising his anger at her latest escapade. This would mean the end of her stay at Barryvale, she thought miserably, for Meldon Powers would not overlook her non-appearance at the hospital a second time.

  She sat back and watched the rain being battered against the windscreen while struggling to remain calm. Her thoughts jumped from the one possibility to the next. Would this storm ever stop? she wondered.

  It seemed as though she sat there in the darkness for hours before she noticed the headlights of an oncoming car. By that time her anxiety had almost reached the point of hysteria, and she cried out with relief when the car stopped beside her own.

  The next moment the door was wrenched open beside her and she found herself looking up into the thunderous face of Meldon Powers. Her heart jerked with fear.

  "Come on, get out," he snapped at her, and taking her medical bag off the seat beside her, she found herself un­ceremoniously hustled across the road and into the warm luxury of his white Mercedes.

  It seemed like a nightmare; a bad dream. Of all people it had to be Meldon Powers himself who came to her rescue, and he did not appear to be very pleased about it.

  Never before had she felt such alarm. Little shivers were coursing their way up along her spine, and this time she could not blame it on her wet clothes.

  The previous time when she had not returned to the hospital soon enough, she had done so without notifying them of her decision, and had suffered Meldon Powers' fury. This time the hospital had been aware of her desti­nation, but would this make any difference to his attitude and the threat he had uttered?

  To have to leave Barryvale after so short a stay would be unbearable and humiliating, and there was no knowing to what lengths Meldon Powers would go when his instructions were thwarted.

  How disappointed her father would have been had he still been alive. That she should have failed so miserably in her own home town, under the guidance of her father's close friend, was unpardonable.

  Tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked rapidly to stop them from spilling over.

  "Dr. Powers, I—"

  "Whatever it is you have to say," he interrupted, taking a rug off the back seat and wrapping it around her, "it can wait until I've got you home."

  "My car—" she tried again.

  "It can be collected in the morning," came his terse reply.

  Jacqueline remained silent after that, stealing a glance at his stern profile from time to time as he concentrated on the road ahead. His face looked pale in the light from the dashboard and she wondered dismally what would be the outcome of the confrontation that was yet to come. She snuggled deeper beneath the rug and tried not to think of the discomfort caused by her damp clothing.

  It did not take them long to reach Barryvale and within minutes Jacqueline was bundled out of the car and up the stairs to her apartment. She handed the key to Meldon and after unlocking the door he pushed it open, switching on the light as he did so. Jacqueline followed him inside and he closed the door behind them.

  "Dr. Powers, I would like to explain," she began, tak­ing the rug from her shoulders and placing it on a chair as he turned to face her.

  "Explanations can come later," he interrupted her again, taking in her bedraggled form from the top of her wet head to her muddy feet. If he found her appearance amusing, he tactfully showed no sign of it. "Get into a hot bath and change your clothes. When you've done that

  we can talk."

  Jacqueline disappeared thankfully into her room and came out several minutes later, dressed in a pair of cream-coloured slacks and an olive green blouse which she had not bothered to tuck in. She had slipped her feet into a pair of sandals and her hair, partially dry from the vigor­ous rubbing she had given it with the towel, clung to her head in soft, feathery curls.

  Meldon Powers handed her a hot cup of instant coffee as she entered. He had discarded his coat and was com­fortably dressed in slacks, sports jacket and white open-necked shirt that displayed a scattering of dark hairs on his tanned chest.

  "I helped myself to your supplies," he said almost apologetically. "I hope you don't mind?"

  "Not at all." Jacqueline's lips quivered into a smile that disappeared again quickly when there was no answer­ing smile on his face.

  They drank their coffee in silence and when they were finished Meldon took the cups and placed them on the small coffee table between their chairs.

  "I suppose you want my resignation as soon as pos­sible?" Jacqueline asked quietly, unable to bear the tense silence any longer.

  He looked at her blankly for a moment, and then as understanding dawned he frowned and shook his head. "No."

  "But you said—" She stopped short, at a loss to com­prehend this new turn of events. "I thought you would be angry with me," she managed eventually.

  "I am angry with you," he acknowledged curtly. "I'm angry that you hadn't the sense to remain in your car until someone came for you."

  Jacqueline stared at him foolishly for a moment before bursting into slightly hysterical laughter. His unexpected reply was too much after the anxiety she had suffered.

  "Stop that at once!"

  His voice was like a douche of cold water and Jacqueline covered her face with her hands to stem the flow of tears that threatened to follow.

  "I'm sorry," she said soberly.

  He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out in an agitated fashion. "I'm not an ogre, you know. I do realise that there are certain situations that can't be avoided."

  "I'm sorry," she said again, ashamed that she had let her fears get the better of her.

  "Dr. Sanderson is very pleased with your work in the theatre," he said, changing the subject. "What line of surgery are you interested in?"

  "Brain surgery," she replied, curling up in her chair and looking across at him, puzzled by the compliment she had received and his sudden interest in her.

  "Have you done any surgery in that field before?"

  "I assisted with several operations in Cape Town and I'm hoping to specialise in that direction."

  He nodded thoughtfully as he smoked his cigarette in silence for a while. The storm had ceased as suddenly as it had started, the only reminder of it being the water drip­
ping monotoaously from the gutters.

  "I came specifically to see you this evening," he ex­plained suddenly. "When I was informed that you'd been called out, I telephoned the farm and was told that you had already left two hours prior to my call. I realised that something must have happened, and that's how I came to find you."

  "I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you to such an ex­tent," she apologised ruefully, explaining what had hap­pened. "What did you want to see me about?"

  "I'm giving a small party at my home next Friday even­ing," he said casually, crushing his cigarette into the ash­tray she had placed close at hand. "I wondered if you would care to come along."

  "I would like that very much, thank you."

  "I've already invited Dr. Richter, so perhaps the two of you could drive out together." The semblance of a deri­sive smile twisted his lips. "I'm sure Dr. Richter would be delighted at having you as his partner for the evening."

  "Dr. Richter has been very kind to me," Jacqueline stated firmly, as though for some unknown reason she had to defend Martin.

  "Are you implying that I have not been kind to you?" His eyes mocked her.

  "No." She lowered her glance and bit her lip nervously.

  "Come now, Jacqueline," Meldon laughed briefly. "It's not like you to be so evasive. You never hesitated voicing your opinion of me on your first morning here, so why hesitate to do so now after two months?"

  Jacqueline was still for a moment, her cheeks stained a delicate pink. Then she murmured softly, "So you heard after all."

  "I couldn't help overhearing. I was standing in the door at the time."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Sorry that I happened to hear, or sorry that you have such a bad opinion of me?" he chided mockingly.

  "Both, if you like."

  "Why do you dislike me, Jacqueline?" he asked di­rectly, getting to his feet and pacing about restlessly.

  "I could almost ask you the same question," she re­turned calmly.

  He stopped in front of her, pinning her down with his hands on the arms of her chair. "I don't dislike you, Jacqueline. I could never dislike the daughter of the man who was my greatest inspiration."

  "I would prefer to be liked for myself and not because I'm Bernard Thornton's daughter," she said, gesturing expressively with her hand as if to brush away the dis­tasteful thought.

  The faint but pleasant aroma of bis aftershave lotion mingled with the smell of tobacco as he stood over her, and Jacqueline was suddenly alarmed by his nearness. His breath stirred her hair and she trembled visibly.

  Moving away abruptly, he glanced at his watch. "It's getting late and you must get some rest," he said, picking up his coat and throwing it over his arm.

  "Your rug," Jacqueline remembered as they stood at the door. She retrieved it quickly and handed it to him. "It's very damp."

  "That doesn't matter."

  "Dr. Powers," she began hesitantly, "I would like to thank you for the trouble you took to fetch me."

  His glance was thoughtful as he nodded slightly. "Your hair is still damp," he said quietly, fingering a curl at her ear. "Dry it properly before you go to bed."

  "Yes."

  "Good night."

  Jacqueline stood at the door and listened to his foot­steps disappearing down the stairs. A puzzled frown creasing her brow as she placed a tentative hand where his had touched her hair. For the first time she did not find his advice objectionable.

  The following morning she found her car parked at the entrance. It had obviously been washed, for there was not a trace of mud on it, and the key was in the ignition. Meldon must have sent one of his labourers at Bergvliet out to collect it, she concluded, for she could not imagine his austere presence behind the wheel of her decrepit little car. Jacqueline removed the key and locked the doors, hoping that she would have an opportunity during the day to thank Meldon for his kindness.

  She met Martin Richter on her way to the canteen later that morning. They helped themselves to a cup of tea and sat down at a corner table.

  "I gather you've also been invited to Bergvliet next

  Friday evening?" Martin asked, sipping his tea.

  Jacqueline nodded absently and looked out of the win­dow. The earth was damp from the storm the previous night and the gardens appeared to be revived after the lengthy period of excruciating heat it had been subjected to. The sun shone brilliantly on to the colourful array of summer flowers as they swayed in the slight breeze, and the luxuriously green lawns with their neatly trimmed edges.

  "You realise, don't you, that it's quite an honour to be invited to Bergvliet with its fabulous antiques and crystal chandeliers?"

  Jacqueline tore her glance away from the colourful scene outside and focussed her attention on Martin.

  "Why do you call it an honour to be invited to his home?" she asked confusedly.

  "My dear." Martin made elaborate gestures with his hands. "These occasions are as rare as thunderstorms in the karoo, and when he does invite guests over they're normally the upper crust of society here in Barryvale."

  Jacqueline considered this gravely for a time.

  "Would you say Tanya Mason belonged in that category?" she asked eventually.

  "That's different," he argued. "Tanya made it her busi­ness to become a regular visitor at Bergvliet, and if she has her way she'll become its mistress."

  The undertone of bitterness in his voice made Jacqueline wonder if Martin had not perhaps cherished the forlorn hope of winning over Tanya's affections. Tanya had a cruel streak in her nature that only a dominating man like Meldon Powers would be able to handle, she acknow­ledged to herself. Martin was too gentle a person to ever be happy with someone like her.

  'I'll call for you at seven next Friday evening," Martin interrupted her thoughts, "then we can arrive together in style."

  "What!" Jacqueline giggled, visualising his battered old Chev. "Do you have the nerve to call that tin can of yours style?"

  "I'll have you know that what you call a tin can is in fact a highly pedigreed vehicle," he replied, attempting to look severe. "With a bit of spit and polish the Chief's Mercedes will look like an ox wagon compared to my limousine."

  "Martin, you can't be serious," she teased. "You surely don't expect me to risk my life by getting into that rattletrap of yours?"

  "If you can risk your life daily in that pedal car of yours, then you should have enough courage to venture into my old bus!"

  Jacqueline laughed gaily and caused several heads to turn smilingly in their direction as they left the canteen.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Bergvliet was ablaze with lights when Martin and Jacqueline arrived. The windows were flung open and from the sounds emerging from within, it was evident that the party was already in full swing. The heavy oak door with its brass knocker stood open and the light from the hallway shone welcomingly out onto the stone steps.

  Martin nudged Jacqueline as they entered and pointed surreptitiously to the chandeliers that hung in glittering splendour from the ceiling.

  "What did I tell you?" he whispered theatrically. •,

  Meldon Powers, towering head and shoulders above everyone, excused himself from a few of his guests and came forward to meet them.

  "I'm sorry we're a bit late, sir," Martin apologised. "I had to call on one of my patients at the last minute."

  "The main thing is you've arrived," Meldon replied amiably. "Hello, Jacqueline."

  "Good evening, Dr. Powers."

  Meldon quirked a cynical eyebrow at the formality in her voice and turned to Martin,

  "Get yourself something to drink and eat while I intro­duce Jacqueline to the other guests."

  Martin excused himself immediately and elbowed his way to where the buffet supper had been laid out.

  "You look charming this evening," Meldon remarked, taking in her lilac-coloured dress with its tight-fitting bodice and wide skirt. He fingered the pearl pendant that hung from her neck. "A gift from an admirer?"


  "My father gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday," Jacqueline replied, acutely aware of his warm fingers against her skin. Tanya Mason's husky laugh rang out above the chatter of voices and the sound of it jarred against Jacqueline's nerves, causing her to flinch inwardly.

  Meldon turned away from her and raised his voice above the noise.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, I would like your attention for a moment, please." A hush fell upon everyone and someone switched off the record player. Jacqueline was about to move away from Meldon's side when she found her arm gripped firmly between his strong fingers. "We have a guest of honour here this evening. Many of you may know her, but for those of you who don't, I would like you to meet Dr. Jacqueline Thornton."