The Smouldering Flame Page 3

  Suddenly aware of her own dishevelled appearance when compared to that dusky elegance, Joanna broke into speech: ‘What is wrong with my brother?’

  Camilla’s look was vaguely condescending. ‘Malaria, Miss Carne. Your brother is recovering from an attack of malaria.’

  ‘Is that serious?’

  ‘It can be. But nowadays, with modern drugs and modern treatment, it is not the debilitating thing it once was. Nevertheless, it can be most unpleasant for the patient, as you saw.’

  Joanna nodded. ‘But is he getting better?’

  ‘Well, he’s not getting any worse,’ Camilla amended dryly. ‘Knowing your brother, I’d say he’d be up and about in a couple of days.’

  ‘Oh, thank goodness!’ Joanna could not hide her relief, but the other woman was regarding her frowningly.

  ‘I—I understood Shannon broke with his family some years ago,’ she ventured unexpectedly, and Joanna felt the hot colour fill her cheeks.

  ‘Did you?’ she managed, turning away towards the windows which overlooked the bungalow adjacent to this, noticing how the shadows were lengthening as the afternoon drew to its close. It would be dark soon. ‘I—I’m very hungry,’ she said quietly. ‘Do you think Jacob would make me a sandwich? I haven’t eaten since this morning.’

  She was conscious of Camilla getting to her feet, and glanced round half apprehensively to find the other woman surveying her contemptuously. Without her controlled mask of composure she looked older than Joanna had first thought her, but no less intimidating.

  ‘Shannon will not want you here,’ she stated with cold conviction. ‘I know how he feels about his—family!’

  Joanna squared her shoulders. ‘Do you? Well, I intend to stay and find that out for myself.’

  ‘Then you’re a fool!’ Camilla controlled her sudden outburst, and with calmer emphasis, asked: ‘Where do you intend to stay? There are no hotels here.’

  Joanna gasped. ‘I—shall stay here, naturally.’

  ‘Where? There is only one bedroom. These bungalows are built for individuals, not for entertaining.’

  Joanna looked about her. ‘I can use two of these chairs, pushed together. You don’t have to bother about me, Miss—Miss——?’

  ‘Langley. Nurse Langley,’ retorted Camilla abruptly. ‘And you can’t sleep here. There’s no mosquito netting, and these chairs are probably infested with bugs. Or don’t you care?’

  Joanna hid her instinctive shiver of fear. Insects of any kind terrified her, but she refused to let Camilla see that. ‘I’ll manage somehow,’ she insisted, clinging to the knowledge that this woman could not force her to leave.

  ‘Why have you come here?’

  Clearly her presence at Kwyana represented a problem to Camilla, but Joanna had no intention of satisfying her curiosity.

  ‘I want to speak to Shannon,’ she said steadily. ‘Now, will you call Jacob, or shall I?’

  That small piece of defiance brought an angry darkening of colour to Camilla’s cheeks, but before either of them could speak again, someone knocked at the outer door and a man’s voice, with a definite American accent, called: ‘Is anybody home?’

  Camilla’s face cleared, and ignoring Joanna, she walked to the hall door, her smile warm and welcoming. ‘I’m here, Brad,’ she answered. ‘Come on in.’

  Footsteps sounded in the hall, and then a man appeared in the doorway, casually dressed in a bush shirt and shorts. He was a huge man, with broad shoulders and rusty hair that extended from his head, over his chest and down his arms and legs. Joanna guessed he wasn’t much more than Shannon’s age, and his bushy eyebrows ascended rapidly at sight of her.

  ‘Hell’s teeth, who’s this?’ he exclaimed, grinning. ‘A white female, no less. Shannon has all the luck!’

  Camilla cast a denigrating glance in Joanna’s direction. ‘That is Shannon’s sister,’ she remarked briefly. ‘Or so she says. I must say, she doesn’t look much like him!’

  ‘I am Shannon’s sister!’ declared Joanna hotly, and then coloured herself at the look in the American’s eyes.

  ‘I believe you,’ he said, coming towards her holding out his hand. ‘I’m Brad Steiner, ventilation superintendent at the mine. And you’re …?’

  ‘Joanna. Joanna Carne. How do you do?’ Joanna allowed him to envelop her small hand in his much larger one, and then withdrew her fingers quickly. ‘Are you a friend of my brother’s, Mr Steiner?’

  ‘The name’s Brad, and yes, I guess you could call me that. We’re old buddies. Used to work together in the Transvaal. Came up to Lushasa at the same time.’

  ‘I see.’

  As Joanna absorbed this, Brad turned back to Camilla. ‘Anyway, how is he?’ he asked, with evident concern. ‘That’s why I came. Meeting Joanna …’ he used her name quite unselfconsciously, ‘was just a bonus.’

  ‘He’s a little better,’ replied Camilla shortly. She had not liked Brad’s response to Joanna’s fair attraction, and her smile was no longer in evidence. ‘I’ve just been explaining to Miss Carne that she can’t possibly stay here.’

  Brad frowned. ‘Stay here? Oh, you mean actually here, in Shannon’s house?’ He looked Joanna’s way again. ‘Shannon didn’t mention you were coming, or we’d have fixed something up, wouldn’t we, Camilla? As it is——’

  ‘Shannon didn’t know I was coming, Mr Steiner,’ said Joanna reluctantly, aware of the other woman’s contempt. ‘It’s a—surprise visit. And you really don’t have to worry about me. I’ll manage.’

  ‘I think Miss Carne should be accommodated at the hospital,’ put in Camilla, as Brad Steiner stood considering the situation, his brows drawn together. ‘There are plenty of spare beds there, and it would avoid the inevitable speculation her arrival is bound to cause among the men.’

  ‘You could be right——’ Brad was beginning, when Joanna broke in angrily.

  ‘I have no intention of sleeping at the hospital,’ she exclaimed. ‘I’ve already told Miss—Nurse Langley. I’m staying here.’

  ‘Sleeping on two chairs!’ Camilla was scornful.

  ‘Have you a better suggestion?’ countered Joanna, but Brad raised his hand in protest.

  ‘I have,’ he said with finality. ‘I have that folding camper my nephew Rod used when he visited last year. Providing the bugs haven’t eaten it away, you could use that, Joanna.’

  Joanna wasn’t quite sure what a camper was, but she guessed it was some sort of folding bed. ‘That would be marvellous!’ she thanked him, but Camilla still had an objection.

  ‘What about the mosquitoes?’ she demanded.

  ‘I guess I have some netting somewhere,’ Brad assured her, his eyes twinkling at Joanna. ‘Like the lady says, we’ll manage.’

  ‘I shall have to report this to Doctor Reisbaum,’ stated Camilla shortly, and marched out of the room.

  After she had gone there was an uneasy silence, and then Brad grinned at Joanna, and some of the tension left her. ‘Don’t mind Camilla,’ he said. ‘Like all medical people, she thinks we ordinary mortals don’t know how to look after ourselves. But she’s a damn good nurse, and she’d do anything for Shannon, you know.’

  ‘I know.’ Joanna had gathered that, but she had her own interpretation of Camilla’s motives. Camilla didn’t want her here, but it was a much more personal thing than caring for Shannon’s health. She had made that very plain.

  ‘I live next door,’ Brad was saying now, and Joanna dragged her thoughts back to the present. ‘What say I go round, get my houseboy to fetch you the camper and set it up in here while you wash up, then maybe later you’d come round and have supper with me?’

  Joanna plucked the damp denim away from her midriff, looking doubtful. She longed to submerge her sticky limbs in cool water, but the idea of taking supper with this friendly American did not appeal. What she really had in mind was to wash and change her clothes, cajole Jacob into making her something to eat, and then sit with Shannon for a while. Even if he wasn’t aware of her presenc
e, it would give her time to collect her thoughts.

  ‘I really think I’d rather stay here this evening,’ she refused him politely. ‘I’m grateful for your offer of the bed, but I am rather—tired.’

  Brad nodded understandingly. ‘Okay. Point taken. I’ll have Andy fetch the camper round in a few minutes.’ He walked towards the door and then paused. ‘If you have any trouble with Jacob, just let me know.’

  Which wasn’t very reassuring, Joanna thought, but she saw Brad to the door, and then walked down the hall looking for the kitchen. It wasn’t difficult to find. Someone had switched on the strip lighting, and when she paused in the doorway she saw that Jacob was sitting on a tall stool beside a steel-covered working surface, studying the newspaper which was spread out in front of him. There was no sign of Camilla, and Joanna looked round the small, functional room with interest. Because of the incidence of electricity, everything was extremely modern and up to date, even to the presence of a deep freeze in one corner.

  Clearing her throat to attract the African’s attention, she said: ‘Could you tell me where the bathroom is, Jacob?’

  Jacob looked round, and because her eyes were steady and inquiring, he got reluctantly to his feet. ‘You staying here, miss?’ he asked, a certain amount of aggression in his tone.

  Joanna sighed. ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s what Miss Camilla said.’

  ‘Good.’ Joanna glanced round. ‘Where is—Miss Camilla?’

  ‘She’s gone. Back to hospital.’ Jacob’s chin jutted. ‘Who say you stay here? This Mr Carne’s house.’

  Joanna gasped. ‘And I’m Mr Carne’s sister!’ she retorted, angrily. ‘Are you questioning my right to be here, Jacob?’

  Jacob’s belligerence suffered a slight puncturing. ‘Miss Camilla, she say better you stay at hospital.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn what Miss Camilla says!’ Joanna answered furiously. ‘I’m staying here, and if you have any objections, I suggest you save them until your employer is capable of answering them himself!’

  ‘Yes’m,’ mumbled Jacob sullenly, and then: ‘Mr Carne, sir!’

  Joanna had been too taken up with her argument with Jacob to be aware of any sound behind her, but the horrified look on Jacob’s face made her swing round in dismay, her lips parting involuntarily. Somehow Shannon had dragged himself out of bed, pulled on a navy bathrobe which he had wrapped loosely about him, and was standing swaying behind her. He was no less pale than when she had seen him tossing on his bed, but at least his eyes had lost their glazed stare.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Jacob,’ he was saying, grasping the door post for support, ‘what in hell is going on?’ Then his eyes shifted to Joanna, and she saw the wave of disbelief that crossed his lean features. ‘My God! It was you!’ he muttered incredulously. ‘I—thought I was dreaming!’

  Joanna could feel a lump in her throat just looking at him, and her voice was unsteady as she said softly: ‘Yes, it’s me, Shannon. I’m—I’m sorry you’re not well.’

  ‘Not well!’ Shannon raised his eyes heavenward for a moment. ‘For God’s sake, what are you doing here?’ His eyes darted round the room. ‘Who brought you? You can’t have come alone.’

  ‘I did. But it doesn’t matter about that right now.’ Joanna came towards him, touching the hand that held his robe in place. ‘You’re shivering, Shannon. You shouldn’t be out of bed.’

  Shannon flinched away from her touch, and she felt a shaft of pain go through her. ‘I’m all right,’ he muttered abruptly. ‘But you shouldn’t be here. Why have you come? Does—does your father know you’re travelling alone?’

  ‘Yes. Oh, yes.’ Joanna spread her hands. ‘Shannon, please—go back to bed. We can’t talk like this.’

  She glanced meaningly towards Jacob, and Shannon looked at the African. ‘What’s going on, Jacob?’ he demanded sharply. ‘Why were you arguing with—Miss Carne when I came on the scene?’

  Jacob looked uneasy. ‘Miss Carne, she want to stay here. Miss Camilla say she stay at hospital,’ he related defensively.

  Shannon’s jaw muscles tightened. ‘I see.’ He looked again at Joanna. ‘That’s quite a point.’

  Joanna felt near to tears. ‘Oh, don’t you start, please,’ she begged. ‘Mr Steiner—Brad—he’s offered me the use of a camp bed, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don’t even need Jacob to make me something to eat. I can cook. I’m not helpless.’

  Shannon’s brow furrowed. ‘You’re hungry?’

  ‘A little.’

  ‘When did you last eat?’

  ‘Oh—this morning——’

  ‘This morning!’ Shannon sounded impatient, but his stamina was waning. His knuckles were white where they held on to the door, and Joanna risked another rebuff by saying:

  ‘Leave it to me, Shannon. Go back to bed. You’re ill. Let me handle this.’

  Lines of strain were etched beside his mouth, but still he remained. ‘Miss Carne needs a bath and a change of clothes, Jacob,’ he ordered grimly. ‘While she’s attending to herself, you can prepare her a meal, is that understood?’

  Jacob nodded, with ill grace. ‘Yes’m, Mr Carne.’

  ‘And if I hear of you behaving disrespectfully again, you’re fired, is that clear?’

  ‘Yes’m, Mr Carne.’

  Shannon expelled his breath wearily. ‘Good.’ He released the door post and stood swaying unsteadily. ‘God—this damned disease! Why did it have to happen now?’

  He staggered, and to Joanna’s astonishment, before she could do anything, Jacob had rushed past her and supported her brother back to his room. After the dressing down he had just received, Joanna would have expected Jacob to ignore his master’s weakness, maybe even enjoy it, but it was obvious from the way he behaved that he cared what happened to him. Her own shoulders sagged. What a day it had been, and it wasn’t over yet.

  The bathroom Jacob showed her to had a bath and a shower, but Joanna decided to use the former. It was heaven to soak her limbs in the tepid, slightly brackish water which emitted from the taps, and afterwards she washed her hair and wound it up in a towel. She had clean clothes in her overnight case, but only one set, and she realised she would have to wash out the clothes she had just taken off so that they would be fit to wear the following day. However, Jacob came tapping at the bathroom door as she was rubbing her hair dry to tell her that her supper was waiting, and she decided to leave washing her clothes until later.

  The meal that awaited her smelt very appetising. Jacob had served it on the formica-topped table in the kitchen, and he disappeared while she was eating so that she felt no self-consciousness. Tinned soup was followed by fried chicken and rice, and there was a bowl of fruit to finish. There was cheese, too, but it smelt rather strong, and Joanna had no desire to risk an upset stomach.

  While she ate, a steady stream of insects flung themselves suicidally at the window panes, endeavouring to reach the light, and Joanna instinctively turned her back on them. The soft velvety wings and hairy legs sent a crawling sensation up her spine, and she prayed none of them would gain entrance without her knowledge.

  A percolator was bubbling on the stove, and she was helping herself to a cup of coffee when Jacob came back. Summoning a smile, she said: ‘That was delicious, thank you.’

  Jacob regarded her doubtfully for a few moments, and then he said: ‘You really Mr Carne’s sister, hmm?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  He nodded, as though satisfied by her answer. ‘Mr Steiner’s boy came with the bed,’ he added. ‘We put it in living room, yes?’

  ‘That sounds fine.’ Joanna finished her coffee and put the cup down. ‘Er—is Mr Carne sleeping?’

  Jacob raised his eyebrows. ‘Maybe, maybe not. Missus go see.’

  ‘But—the dishes——’

  ‘Jacob see to dishes,’ he told her, in as amiable a tone as she had heard from him. ‘You want anything, you ask Jacob.’

  Joanna shook her head. Obviously Shanno
n’s reproof had been taken to heart, but she guessed that when Camilla returned Jacob’s loyalties might well divide again.

  Leaving the kitchen, she crossed the hall to the bathroom to collect her dirty clothes. But the bathroom was empty of her belongings and she looked round in dismay. Where had they gone? Surely Jacob hadn’t shifted them.

  Crossing back to the kitchen, she hovered in the doorway, watching the houseboy as he loaded her dirty dishes into the sink. ‘Er—Jacob?’ she murmured tentatively. ‘Do you happen to know where the things are that I left in the bathroom?’

  Jacob turned, his black hands incongruously covered with white soap suds. ‘Sure thing, missus. They washed. Jacob put them by your bed.’

  Joanna shook her head. ‘I don’t understand …’

  ‘Jacob use washing machine and drier. While you have supper.’ He looked anxious. ‘Jacob do wrong?’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Joanna couldn’t prevent a smile from lifting the corner of her mouth. ‘I—well, thank you, Jacob. Thank you.’

  She turned away and went along the hall to the living room. The room was in darkness, but she switched on the light and started at the tentlike erection of mosquito netting which had been rigged over the canvas bed. But sure enough, her clothes were there, somewhat creased perhaps, but freshly laundered. With a rueful smile, she left the room again, switching out the light as she went.

  Shannon’s door was ajar, and through the crack she could see a lamp had been lighted beside his bed. She pushed the door a little wider, wincing as it squeaked a little, and looked in. At first she thought he was asleep, but he had heard her because he turned his head against the pillows, and said harshly: ‘You’d better come in.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  JOANNA closed the door behind her and leaned back against it for a moment. ‘How—how do you feel?’ she asked automatically.

  ‘Lousy!’ Shannon ran a hand across his forehead, brushing back the thick hair carelessly. ‘Joanna, what the hell are you doing here?’

  Joanna straightened away from the door and approached the bed. ‘I came to see you,’ she answered simply.