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Sometimes he smiled, once he chuckled.
"-I was top in all subjects except history and religious teaching.
I hope to do better next-" When there was one envelope left he held it a long time in his blue-veined bony hands. Then with an impatient flick of his wrist he threw it on to the fire and reached up to the mantelpiece to pull himself to his feet. As he stood he looked into the gilt-framed mirror above the fireplace.
He stared at his reflection, mildly surprised by the change that the last few weeks had wrought in his appearance. His eyes had lost the sparkle of life, fading to a pale dirty brownish blue the colour of putrefaction. They bulged from the sockets, in the gla.s.sy startled stare which is peculiar to the later stages of terminal cancer.
The watery feeling of limb, and the coldness were not the result of the pain-killing drugs, he knew. Nor was the shuffling feet-dragging gait with which he crossed the thick Bokhara carpet to the stinkwood desk.
He looked down at the oblong leather case with its bra.s.sbound corners, and he coughed, a single flesh-teating bark.
He caught at the desk to steady himself, waiting for the pain to pa.s.s before he sprang the catch on the case and laid the lid back.
His hands were quite steady as he took the barrel and b.u.t.t section of the Purdy Royal twelve-bore shotgun from the case and fitted them together.
He died the way he had lived - alone.
"Oh, how I hate black." Ruby Lance stood in the centre of the bedroom floor, staring at the clothing laid out on the double bed. "It makes me look so washed out." She swung her head from side to side, setting the champagne-coloured cascade of her hair swinging. She turned and moved lazily across the room to the tall mirrors.
She smiled at herself, a languid slanting of the eyes, and then she spoke over the shoulder of her own image.
"You say that Benedict van der Byl has arrived from England?"
"Yes,"Johnny nodded. He sat slumped in the chair beside his dressing-room door, pressing his fingers into his eyes.
Ruby came up on her toes, pulling in her stomach and pus.h.i.+ng forward her small hard b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
"Who else will be there?" she asked, cupping her hands under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and squeezing out the nipples between thumb and forefinger, inspecting them critically. Johnny took his hand from his eyes.
"Did you hear me?" Ruby's voice took on a sharp admonis.h.i.+ng note. "I'm not talking to myself, you know." She turned away from the mirror to face him. Standing long and slim and golden as a leopard, even her eyes had the yellow intentness of a leopard's stare. She gave the impression that at any moment she would draw her lips back in a snarl.
"It's a funeral,"he said quietly. "Not a c.o.c.ktail party."
"Well, you can't expect me to die of sorrow. I couldn't stand him." She crossed to the bed and picked up the pair of peach-coloured panties and rubbed the glossy material against her cheek. Then she stepped into them with two long-legged strides.
"At least I can wear something pretty under the weeds." She snapped the elastic against her sun-gilt belly, and the almost colourless blonde curls were flattened beneath the sheer silk.
Johnny stood up slowly, and went into his dressing-room.
Scornfully she called after him. "Oh for G.o.d's sake, Johnny Lance, stop dragging that long face around as though it's the end of the world. n.o.body owes that old devil a thing he collected all his debts long before they fell due." They were a few minutes early, and they stood together beneath the pine-trees outside the entrance to the chapel.
When the pearl-grey Rolls drew up at the gate and brother and sister stepped down and came up the paved path, Ruby could not contain her interest.
"Is that Benedict van der Byl?" Johnny nodded.
"He's very good-looking." But Johnny was looking at Tracey. The change in her appearance since he had last seen her was startling. She walked like a desert girl again, straight and proud. She came directly to Johnny and stopped in front of him. She removed her dark gla.s.ses, and he could see she had been weeping, for her eyes were slightly puffy. She wore no make-up, and with the dark scarf framing her face she looked like a nun. The marks that sorrow had left gave her face maturity.
"I did not think this day would ever come," she said softly.
"No," Johnny agreed. "It was as though he would live for ever."
Tracey moved a step closer to him, she reached out as if to touch Johnny's arm but her fingers stopped within inches of his sleeve.
Johnny understood the gesture, it was a sharing of sorrow, an understanding of mutual loss, and an unstated offer of comfort.
"I don't think we have met." Ruby used her sugar and a.r.s.enic tone. "It is Miss. van der Byl, isn't it?" Tracey turned her head and her expression went flat and neutral. She replaced the dark gla.s.ses, masking her eyes.
"Mrs. Hartford," she said. "How do you do." ike Shapiro stood beside Johnny in the pew. He spoke without moving his lips, just loud enough for Johnny to catch the words.
"Benedict knows the conditions of the Will. You can expect his first move immediately."
"Thanks, Mike." Johnny kept his eyes on the ma.s.sive black coffin. The candlelight granted and sparkled on the elaborate silver handles.
As yet he could find no interest for the conflict that lay ahead.
That would come. Now he was too deeply involved in the pa.s.sing of an era, his life had reached another point of major departure. He knew it would change, had already changed.
He looked across the aisle suddenly, his gaze drawn intuitively.
Benedict van der Byl was watching him, and at that moment the priest asked for the pallbearers.
They went to stand beside the coffin, Benedict and Johnny on opposite sides of the polished black casket among the ma.s.sed display of arum lilies. They watched each other warily. It seemed to Johnny that the whole scene was significant. The two of them standing over the Old Man's corpse, facing each other, with Tracey looking on anxiously.
Johnny glanced back into the body of the church, looking for Tracey. Instead he found Ruby. She was watching them both, and Johnny knew suddenly that the board had changed more than he realized.
A new piece had been added to the game.
He felt Mike Shapiro nudge him, and he stooped forward and grasped the silver handle. Between them they carried the Old Man out into the suns.h.i.+ne.
The handle had cut into his palm with the weight of the coffin.
He went on ma.s.saging it, even after the coffin had gone down into the pit. The crude mounds of fresh earth were covered with blankets of bright green artificial gra.s.s.
The mourners began to drift away, but Johnny went on standing there bare-headed. Until Ruby came to touch his arm.
"Come on." Her voice pitched low, but stinging. "You're making a fool of yourself." Benedict and Tracey were waiting under the pine-trees by the churchyard gate, shaking hands and talking quietly to the departing mourners.
"You are Ruby, of course." Benedict took her hand, smiling a little, urbane and charming. "The flattering reports I've had of you hardly do you justice." And Ruby glowed, seeming like a b.u.t.terfly to spread her wings to the sun.
"Johnny." Benedict turned to him, and Johnny was taken off balance by the friendly warmth of his smile and the grip of his hand. "Michael Shapiro tells me that you have accepted my father's legacy and the conditions attached to it - you have signed the guarantee. It's wonderful news. I don't know what we would have done without you in Van Der Byl Diamonds. You are the only one that can pull the Company through this difficult period. I want you to know I am behind you all the way, Johnny. I intend becoming much more involved with the Company now, giving you all the help you need."
"I knew I could depend on you, Benedict." Johnny accepted the challenge as smoothly as it was thrown down.
"I think everything is going to turn out all right."
"We have a meeting on Monday, then I must return to London on Thursday but I hope you can have dinner with me before. then - you and your lovely wife, of course."
"Thank you." Ruby seeing the refusal on Johnny's lips, interrupted quickly. "We'd enjoy that." You were going to refuse, weren't you?" She sat with her legs curled up sideways under her, watching him from the pa.s.senger seat of the Mercedes with the slanting eyes of a Persian cat.
"You're d.a.m.n right."Johnny nodded grimly.
"Why?"
"Benedict van der Byl is poison."
"You say so."
"Yes, I say so."
"Could be you're jealous of him." Ruby lit one of her gold-tipped cigarettes, puffing the smoke through her lips.
"Good G.o.d!" Johnny gave one harsh snort of laughter, then they were silent awhile, both staring ahead.
"I think he's pretty dreamy."
"You can have him."Johnny's tone was disinterested, but her retort was shrill.
"I could too - if I wanted to. Anyway you and that Tracey creature mooning-"
"Cut it out, Ruby." "Oh my, I've said the wrong thing. The precious Mrs. Hartford-" "Cut it out, I said."Johnny's tone was sharp.
"Little Miss. Fancy Pants. - G.o.d! She almost had them down for you in the b.l.o.o.d.y graveyard-"
"Shut up, d.a.m.n you."
"Don't you swear at me."
And she lashed out at him flathanded, leaning forward across the seat to strike him in the mouth. His lower lip smeared against his teeth, and the taste of blood seeped into his mouth. He took the handkerchief from his breast pocket and held it to his mouth, steering the Mercedes with one hand.
Ruby sat curled in her corner of the seat, puffing quickly at the cigarette. Neither of them spoke again until he drew up in front of the double garage. Then Ruby slipped out of the Mercedes and ran across the lawns to the front door.
She slammed it behind her, with a force that rattled the full-length gla.s.s panel.
Johnny parked the Mercedes, closed the garage door and followed her slowly into the house. She had kicked off her shoes on the wall-to-wall carpet in the lounge, and run through on to the patio beside the swimming pool. She stood barefooted staring down into the clear water, hugging herself about the shoulders.
"Ruby." He came up behind her, forcing the anger out of his voice with an effort, trying to keep it conciliatory.
"Listen to me She spun around to face him, eyes blazing like a cornered leopard.
"Don't try and gentle talk me, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d. What do you think I am - your d.a.m.ned servant. When did I last get to do anything I wanted?" With Ruby he had long ago realized that placation was the short cut to peace, so he was roused by the implication.
"I've never stopped you from-"
"Good! That's just fine! Then you won't stop me going away."
"What do you mean?" He was caught between shock and a sneaking sense of hope. "Are you talking about divorce "Divorce? Are you out of your little mind! I know all about the big bagful of goodies the Old Man left you in his will. Well, little Ruby is getting her pinkies into that bag starting right now."
"What do you want exactly?" His voice was cold and flat.
"A new wardrobe, and a quick whip around all those nice places you go to all the time - London, Paris and the rest.
That will do for a start." He thought a moment, a.s.sessing how far he could stretch his overdraft; since his marriage his bank statement had seldom been typed in black. It was worth it, he decided. He could afford no distraction over the next few months. He could move faster and think quicker without having Ruby Lance sitting between his shoulder-blades much better she should go.
"All right,"he nodded. "If that's what you want." Her eyes narrowed slightly and her mouth pinched in as she studied his face.
"That was too easy," she said. "You want to get rid of me?
Don't get any ideas, Johnny boy, you put one finger - or anything else out of line and I'll chop it off." here is a Mrs. Hartford to see you, sir. Lettie Pienaar's voice whispered through on the intercom, then just audibly she added, "Lucky you!" Johnny grinned. "You're fired for insolence - but send her in before you go.
He stood up as Tracey came in, and went around his desk to meet her. She wore a nononsense grey suit, with her hair sc.r.a.ped back from her face. She should have looked like a school mom - but she didn't.
"You've got your times mixed up, Tracey. The Directors" meeting is at two this afternoon."
"That's a sweet greeting." She sat down in an egg-shaped swivel chair, crossing long legs which Johnny dragged his eyes off with an effort. "I've come looking for a job."
"A job?" He stared at her blankly.
"Yes, a job. You know - work? Employment?"
"What on earth for?"
"Well, now that you've dragged me back from the bright lights with all the finesse of a cavernan - you don't expect me to sit around until I drop dead of boredom. Besides, your tame doctor feels that good healthy employment is essential to the completion of my - - cure."
"I see." He sank back into his own chair. "Well - what can you do?"
"Mr. Lance." Tracey widened her eyes suggestively, but made her voice prim. "- Really!"
"All right," Johnny chuckled. "What are your qualifications?"
"You may or may not know that I have a law degree from the University of Cape Town."
"I didn't." (Also, it occurred to me that during the next few months you might need someone around whom you can trust." She was serious now, and Johnny's smile faded also. "Like the old days." She added quietly. They were silent for a few seconds.
just so happens that we are looking for a personal a.s.sistant in our legal department," Johnny murmured, and then softly, "Thanks, Tracey." The Board Room of Van Der Byl Diamonds was furnished in soft forest colours, browns and greens.
A long luxurious room that reflected the opulence of the days when the Company had been glutted with capital. But now the air was charged with a tension that crackled in the air like static electricity.
The subject of debate was the diamond recovery vessel, Kingfisher.
The Company's last hope. Her only substantial a.s.set, and Johnny's personal cross.
"This vessel should have been in operation nine months ago. All the estimates were based on that a.s.sumption - yet, she is still lying awaiting completion on the slips at Portsmouth." Benedict was speaking with unconcealed relish. "In consequence, the interest charges that are accruing put us in a position-"
"The s.h.i.+pyard was out on strike for a total of four months during construction - in addition they were working to rule for, - Johnny's jaw was thrust out, he was ready to fight.
"Ah! I don't think we are particularly interested in the unpredictability of the British workman - the contract should have gone to the j.a.panese company. Their tender was lower-"
"It would have," grated Johnny, "if your father had not insisted-"