[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
with her broom at the last rug hanging on the fence outside. "The
season's far too dry to be healthy, Ginny, mark my words. A good
strong wind from the valley, and the dust'll be coming in thick and fast.
We're needing rain badly. Like my Jim says, if the wind comes before
the rain, it's goodbye to my nice clean house, unless it's from the usual
quarter, over the mountain there. The fine silty river-loam further up
the flat blows like mad when it's dry. Jas's paddocks won't blow,
there's too much grass - but that's almost as big a worry in a year like
this. They're having dreadful bush-fires in Victoria, by all accounts."
Dust storms. Bushfires. Ginny, city-born and raised, had never thought
very deeply before about the constant battle country people fought
against the elements. She could remember several times when fires
had threatened some of Sydney's outermost bushland suburbs, but that
was the nearest she had ever been to personal involvement.
It was a pity the district looked so brown and scorched for Ted's visit,
but the trees on the hillsides were green and healthy, and he couldn't
fail to be charmed by the lovely homestead, with its lush lawns and
peaceful gardens. She had described it so often in her letters, and now,
childishly, she wanted him not to be disappointed.
Ted was travelling up on Friday, and had wisely decided to have a
good night's rest and a long lie the next morning, before seeking out
the garage. He was to drive over after lunch on Saturday, assuming
that she would have that afternoon at her disposal.
After the meal was over, Ginny dried the dishes for Sparky, keeping
one eye on the dogs in their kennel under the heaven-trees beyond the
kitchen windows. The second their ears pricked into alertness, she
would know the car was coming. They had a built-in radar system
about approaching vehicles, and always waited, straining eagerly at
their chains, until they heard the clanking of the ramp at the bottom of
the avenue, which was the signal for them to yap excitedly.
As soon as they began to bark, Ginny took off her apron, smoothed her
hair, and flew down the passage, through the hall, and on to the front
veranda. Jas was there, reading a paper, as he often did in the hottest
part of the day, before going out again. He was leaning back in a cane
chair, with his legs stretched out. He lowered the paper, and smiled
when he saw her excitedly flushed face.
"Take it easy. He won't run away."
The car pulled up near the cement steps, and Ginny ran round to the
driver's door and gave Ted an enormous hug of welcome. She studied
his face anxiously. He was paler than usual, or perhaps she was
accustomed to Jas's swarthy tan. Certainly he was thinner. His face had
the gaunt angularity that illness often produces, and his eyes seemed
larger and deeper-set than ever.
"Oh, Ted, you're too thin," she wailed reproachfully.
Only then did she realize that someone else had got out of the car on
the passenger's side. Ginny's heart did a double-somersault as Clive
Barratt straightened up and winked at her with his breezily familiar air.
Clive! Here at Noosa! At Jas Lawrence's own home! Dear heaven, it
couldn't be true.
"Hello, princess! My, you look well - positively peachy! Are you
surprised to see me? When brother Edward told me he was having a
week in the country, I found the idea irresistible - especially as it also
meant seeing you. I even managed to rustle up my hotel bill! Where's
the junior art student, by the way? Those were most interesting
canvases you sent."
Jas Lawrence was coming slowly down the steps.
Ginny turned towards him.
"My brother Ted - Jas Lawrence." Ginny's voice was an octave higher
than she'd meant it to be. She watched the two men shake hands, then
indicated Clive helplessly. Words failed her altogether.
Jas, fortunately, took the initiative. She might have known he would.
"We've met before," he stated coolly, clasping Clive's hand with
brevity, "only I didn't get your name on that occasion."
"Barratt - Clive Barratt. Good lord! It's unbeatable - you turning out to
be you, I mean." Clive was unabashed. "Ginny didn't tell me."
"Obviously not," confirmed Jas crisply. He forced a measure of
cordiality into his tone. "Come inside and get cool. Would you like tea,
or perhaps a beer? Yes, beer, I think. There's some lager on the ice, I
believe, Virginia. You might bring me one, too, and then I've some
things to see to outside, if you'll excuse me. I've told Virginia to take as
much time off as she likes, during your visit," he told Ted. "She's had
no free days since she came, so you mustn't feel that you're usurping
her time in any way. I hope you'll make this home your own as often as
you wish while you're in the neighbourhood."
Ginny knew that her employer and her brother were sizing each other
up. Clive, completely at home, had rolled up his shirt-sleeves and
sprawled in the chair Jas indicated.
In nightmare haste, Ginny departed to get the lager for the three men.
She found her hands were shaking as she tipped cubes of ice into the
tall pewter mugs, and placed them on a tray with the bottles. Not by the
flicker of an eyebrow had Jas Lawrence hinted at his thoughts upon
seeing Clive. He had betrayed no emotion whatever, had not even
seemed surprised. He was the urbane, courteous country host, and
Ginny's heart overflowed with gratitude towards him for the generous
reception he had given Ted and his unexpected companion. Of course
it was the sort of behaviour she had come to expect of Jas Lawrence.
He might be autocratic and domineering, but his standards of
behaviour were at all times as high as he expected them to be in others.
Even his anger, when he brought it to bear, was of the cold, controlled
variety. Ginny suppressed a shudder of anticipation. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl rafalstec.xlx.pl
with her broom at the last rug hanging on the fence outside. "The
season's far too dry to be healthy, Ginny, mark my words. A good
strong wind from the valley, and the dust'll be coming in thick and fast.
We're needing rain badly. Like my Jim says, if the wind comes before
the rain, it's goodbye to my nice clean house, unless it's from the usual
quarter, over the mountain there. The fine silty river-loam further up
the flat blows like mad when it's dry. Jas's paddocks won't blow,
there's too much grass - but that's almost as big a worry in a year like
this. They're having dreadful bush-fires in Victoria, by all accounts."
Dust storms. Bushfires. Ginny, city-born and raised, had never thought
very deeply before about the constant battle country people fought
against the elements. She could remember several times when fires
had threatened some of Sydney's outermost bushland suburbs, but that
was the nearest she had ever been to personal involvement.
It was a pity the district looked so brown and scorched for Ted's visit,
but the trees on the hillsides were green and healthy, and he couldn't
fail to be charmed by the lovely homestead, with its lush lawns and
peaceful gardens. She had described it so often in her letters, and now,
childishly, she wanted him not to be disappointed.
Ted was travelling up on Friday, and had wisely decided to have a
good night's rest and a long lie the next morning, before seeking out
the garage. He was to drive over after lunch on Saturday, assuming
that she would have that afternoon at her disposal.
After the meal was over, Ginny dried the dishes for Sparky, keeping
one eye on the dogs in their kennel under the heaven-trees beyond the
kitchen windows. The second their ears pricked into alertness, she
would know the car was coming. They had a built-in radar system
about approaching vehicles, and always waited, straining eagerly at
their chains, until they heard the clanking of the ramp at the bottom of
the avenue, which was the signal for them to yap excitedly.
As soon as they began to bark, Ginny took off her apron, smoothed her
hair, and flew down the passage, through the hall, and on to the front
veranda. Jas was there, reading a paper, as he often did in the hottest
part of the day, before going out again. He was leaning back in a cane
chair, with his legs stretched out. He lowered the paper, and smiled
when he saw her excitedly flushed face.
"Take it easy. He won't run away."
The car pulled up near the cement steps, and Ginny ran round to the
driver's door and gave Ted an enormous hug of welcome. She studied
his face anxiously. He was paler than usual, or perhaps she was
accustomed to Jas's swarthy tan. Certainly he was thinner. His face had
the gaunt angularity that illness often produces, and his eyes seemed
larger and deeper-set than ever.
"Oh, Ted, you're too thin," she wailed reproachfully.
Only then did she realize that someone else had got out of the car on
the passenger's side. Ginny's heart did a double-somersault as Clive
Barratt straightened up and winked at her with his breezily familiar air.
Clive! Here at Noosa! At Jas Lawrence's own home! Dear heaven, it
couldn't be true.
"Hello, princess! My, you look well - positively peachy! Are you
surprised to see me? When brother Edward told me he was having a
week in the country, I found the idea irresistible - especially as it also
meant seeing you. I even managed to rustle up my hotel bill! Where's
the junior art student, by the way? Those were most interesting
canvases you sent."
Jas Lawrence was coming slowly down the steps.
Ginny turned towards him.
"My brother Ted - Jas Lawrence." Ginny's voice was an octave higher
than she'd meant it to be. She watched the two men shake hands, then
indicated Clive helplessly. Words failed her altogether.
Jas, fortunately, took the initiative. She might have known he would.
"We've met before," he stated coolly, clasping Clive's hand with
brevity, "only I didn't get your name on that occasion."
"Barratt - Clive Barratt. Good lord! It's unbeatable - you turning out to
be you, I mean." Clive was unabashed. "Ginny didn't tell me."
"Obviously not," confirmed Jas crisply. He forced a measure of
cordiality into his tone. "Come inside and get cool. Would you like tea,
or perhaps a beer? Yes, beer, I think. There's some lager on the ice, I
believe, Virginia. You might bring me one, too, and then I've some
things to see to outside, if you'll excuse me. I've told Virginia to take as
much time off as she likes, during your visit," he told Ted. "She's had
no free days since she came, so you mustn't feel that you're usurping
her time in any way. I hope you'll make this home your own as often as
you wish while you're in the neighbourhood."
Ginny knew that her employer and her brother were sizing each other
up. Clive, completely at home, had rolled up his shirt-sleeves and
sprawled in the chair Jas indicated.
In nightmare haste, Ginny departed to get the lager for the three men.
She found her hands were shaking as she tipped cubes of ice into the
tall pewter mugs, and placed them on a tray with the bottles. Not by the
flicker of an eyebrow had Jas Lawrence hinted at his thoughts upon
seeing Clive. He had betrayed no emotion whatever, had not even
seemed surprised. He was the urbane, courteous country host, and
Ginny's heart overflowed with gratitude towards him for the generous
reception he had given Ted and his unexpected companion. Of course
it was the sort of behaviour she had come to expect of Jas Lawrence.
He might be autocratic and domineering, but his standards of
behaviour were at all times as high as he expected them to be in others.
Even his anger, when he brought it to bear, was of the cold, controlled
variety. Ginny suppressed a shudder of anticipation. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]