morning, Miss Laura,' she said politely.
'Good morning… er… Jemima?'
'That's right, miss.'
'Did
you
unpack my suitcase for me
last night?' Laura enquired curiously.
'Yes, Miss Laura.'
'That was very kind of you,' Laura thanked her, but when
she observed the contents of the dishes being transferred from the
trolley on to the table, her eyes widened in dismay. There seemed to be
enough there to feed half a dozen hungry men, she thought with a touch
of humour as she eyed the amount of eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes and
steak. 'Good heavens, Jemima,' she exclaimed at last, 'I'll never be
able to eat all that!'
'It's Mr Anton's orders, Miss Laura,' Jemima announced
emphatically. 'He said, "See that Miss Laura has a good breakfast. She
can't live on sandwiches alone." That's what he said.'
'You'll have to eat it, Aunty Laura,' Sally warned,
seating herself on the chair beside Laura and resting her elbows on the
table. 'Uncle Anton gets awfully furious if his orders aren't carried
out.'
Uncle Anton could go hopping for all she cared, Laura
thought irritably, but it was the thought of Jemima being caught in the
backwash of his anger that brought her swiftly to her senses.
'It seems I have no choice, then, so I'll just have to do
the best I can,' she replied, eyeing the food dubiously. 'Thank you,
Jemima, for all your trouble.'
'No trouble, Miss Laura,' the Coloured woman assured her
with that flashing smile that lit up her dark eyes. 'But there
will
be trouble if Mr Anton finds out that I had to take it all back to the
kitchen.'
Some minutes later Laura discovered, to her amazement,
that she was actually hungry, and with a certain amount of assistance
from Sally, the serving dishes were practically empty when they were
eventually wheeled back to the kitchen by a beaming Jemima.
Bellavista lay high up in the curve of the mountain, and
when Laura went for a walk with Sally through the grounds among the
cedar, beech, and olive trees, she could almost forget what had brought
her so unexpectedly from the concrete jungle of Johannesburg to the
peace and tranquillity of the Constantia valley. Sparrows and buntings
fluttered noisily in the trees, while a turtle dove called from
somewhere to its mate in the branches overhead. Butterflies flitted
back and forth among the bright yellow chrysanthemums while the sun
climbed higher in the clear blue sky and, as they approached the
ornamental well, they disturbed the lazy, early-morning siesta of a
small, sleek lizard, and it scurried off the stone wall to disappear
into the undergrowth.
Laura channelled the conversation with her young niece
into avenues free from grief, but they inevitably led back to the
events of the day before.
'Uncle Anton fetched me out of boarding school early
yesterday morning, and the headmistress gave permission for me not to
attend school these two days before the weekend.' Sally kicked
listlessly at a pebble while she spoke. 'I have to go back to school on
Monday, but for the rest of the term, until the March holidays, I'll be
a day scholar.'
'And after the holidays?' Laura prompted curiously.
Sally shrugged in a surprisingly adult fashion. 'Uncle
Anton said that, when the holidays were over, he would decide what to
do about me.'
So Sally's future was not as decided as Anton DeVere had
wanted her to believe, Laura reflected wryly. She would have to speak
to him again about the child, and soon it seemed, in order to make the
necessary arrangements for their flight back to Johannesburg. She
wanted Sally with her; as her aunt she had that right, and Anton DeVere
was not in a position to prevent it.
A small hand gripped her fingers tightly. 'Don't leave me,
Aunty Laura.'
Laura smiled confidently down into those anxious brown
eyes, and made a promise she was to regret bitterly in the not too
distant future. 'I shan't ever leave you, Sally, and that's a promise.'
A look of relief flashed across the child's face, and she
smiled for the first time as she