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A Lion by the Mane Page 2


  ‘Is Jan younger than the girls?’

  ‘Yes. George, the barrister of the family, is four years older and the girls fit in between him and Kip. As Jan got older, he shot up and developed very quickly but, unfortunately for him, so did all the others. When he started dating girls, he was really put through the mill by his more experienced brothers. You can imagine the sort of thing, can’t you! A long drawn-out stag party. Chris pointed out to me that they all went through it in turn, but he forgets Jan was the only one who never had the satisfaction of getting his own back on a younger one. Mind you, there was the other side of the coin. The brothers often lent him money for something he desperately wanted or covered up for him when he had been up to mischief, and if any school-fellow dared cross swords with him, the family sorted out the miscreant in no uncertain terms. Reading between the lines, I suspect the Schroeder children terrorized the whole school by sheer force of numbers. The girls were no exception. Chris says they had a deadly kick to the shins.’

  Margaret laughed. ‘A charming family all round! I see what you mean by the strong blood tie. How does the rest of the family get on with Jan now?’

  ‘They are all beginning to lose patience, I’m sorry to say. They put his temperament down to the fact that he is the only one with red hair, but it goes much deeper than that, in my opinion. I try to put in a good word for him when I can because I can understand the motivation for his actions, but I don’t agree with his unreasonable desire to go one better all the time. The fastest cars, the fastest girls, the most expensive flat – and now he is trying to prove he is more successful at the air-freight business than Chris.’

  ‘And is he?’

  ‘No,’ said Helen immediately. ‘On the flying side he can hardly be equalled – he has never failed to deliver a cargo – but he falls down on the business side. His association with Van Heerdon has ruined that. The desire to make money fast has led him to accept assignments Chris would never consider, and that is really the biggest bone of contention between them. Every time Jan flies a doubtful cargo he puts the good name of the firm at risk.’

  At this point there was the sound of loud voices followed by a banging door. Margaret glanced through the long window to see Jan take the steps two at a time and stride away down the drive. She felt a pang of disappointment. Helen’s words had set up a vision of a small freckle-faced boy with red-gold hair fighting to hide his fear of his brothers’ blood-thirsty threats of torture, and of an adolescent youth unable to turn off their ribaldry the way a more mature man would. Sympathy welled up in her – but Jan would allow no one to feel sorry for him, Helen said. Now, he had gone without a further word, leaving her in a strange limbo; as if she had glimpsed excitement through a door which closed in her face to reveal the words NO ENTRY.

  ‘He’s gone!’ She had not meant to sound so desolate.

  ‘Oh dear, that means Chris will be angry all the evening,’ said Helen absently. Her guest’s reaction was worrying her. The crusading light had already appeared in her eyes, and as one who had suffered in the same way nine years ago, she felt some alarm. It might almost be a repeat performance; an English girl, a South African pilot, and a flight across country ahead of them. But there were two major variations. Jan was a vastly different prospect from Chris, and their journey was not likely to lead them into the midst of an East African uprising, as hers had. If Fate was kind to Margaret, Jan would fly her to Myala, then vanish from her life. ‘He might have made the final arrangements before he left,’ she complained to cover her brief silence. ‘How typical of him to walk out like that.’

  ‘Perhaps he resented his actions being criticized in front of a stranger,’ put in Margaret thoughtfully. ‘If he is out to prove himself, it hardly furthered his cause.’

  ‘That’s why I sent them out. I guessed the sparks would fly.’

  Margaret started to feel her way carefully. ‘Jan is lucky to have an ally in you. What about his girl-friend . . . does she try to help him?’

  Helen knew what the other girl was doing and sighed inwardly. ‘If I tell you I never know from day to day who the present girl is you’ll realize that Jan only mixes with swinging sex-symbols. All they care about is his reputation for excitement and recklessness. It would never occur to any of them to discover what is beneath that surface bravado.’

  ‘Then it’s time someone did.’

  Helen couldn’t hold out any longer. ‘The odds are against you, Margaret. In two days’ time you’ll be flying up to Myala.’

  ‘He’ll be coming with me,’ she said calmly.

  ‘And leaving again! You can’t catch a lion by the mane. You either throw a net over him and leave him snarling, or you hit him right between the eyes.’

  Margaret was prevented from answering by a deafening roar from outside which told them, without doubt, that Jan Schroeder had brought his car to the front door, and he entered in much the same manner.

  ‘I have come to offer you a lift back to your hotel,’ he said to the English girl. ‘After the perils of your pedal-pushing machine you’ll be as safe as houses in my Lotus. I can tell you the arrangements for the flight as we go.’

  While Margaret got to her feet and collected her handbag, Jan took Helen’s hands and gave her a resigned look. ‘Every time I come here I seem to shatter the calm peace of this place. I think I had better keep away.’

  ‘Jan,’ she said firmly, ‘I am past the stage of being taken in by your considerable charm. After nine years of Schroeders, I am beginning to be impervious to their wiles. There is no intention on your part to stay away. You just want to hear me claim that I couldn’t do without your visits.’ His grin confirmed her words and she shook her hands free. ‘I know that Margaret will be perfectly safe in an aircraft with you, but please drive that car of yours at less than half your normal speed or she will never believe it.’

  Goodbyes were said on the stoep once more, and if it hadn’t been for the men’s set faces, it would have been difficult to believe there had been such high tension a short time ago. Helen wished the other girl a successful stay at the Game Reserve, and promised to write. Chris added his words to that and told her that Jan would explain the altered flight arrangements.

  ‘I’ll see you at the airport,’ he called as the engine roared into life and Jan did the graceful driveway full justice with his tight turn and smooth getaway.

  The Lotus might be a ‘danger-machine’ as Chris had named it, but Margaret had to admire the way it was handled. The speed must have been more than half his usual rate, but she felt perfectly safe as they wound their way along the coast to her hotel. What she had condemned during her cycle ride now seemed the best and most exciting way to travel, and a smile played on her lips as she threw back her head to let the breeze rush through her hair.

  Jan spoke suddenly. ‘How about having dinner with me tonight? I do owe you some compensation for this afternoon.’

  ‘You make it sound like an insurance payment, but I’ll accept, just the same.’

  ‘Good. Be ready at nine. I’ll have that pedal-pusher repaired, for what good it may do you.’

  ‘I’m planning to take it to Myala. It might come in useful for getting about.’

  He flashed her a look with high amusement in his light brown eyes. ‘Cycling in a Game Reserve might be excellent for the health but very tough on the behind. There are only rough tracks leading from one place to another. I can see this evening will be spent in educating you on life in a place like that. Should prove interesting,’ he added to himself.

  Margaret watched him as he turned into Plein Street and moved into heavier traffic. His face was still very freckled beneath his tan, and the bright hair still curled flat against his head in a cut which was probably not much different from the one he had had as a boy – but he had come a long way since then! Maybe she couldn’t catch a lion by the mane, or hit him right between the eyes, but she was very experienced at anaesthetizing wild creatures until they learned to accept her!

&n
bsp; He let her out at the hotel entrance and re-affirmed his intention to collect her in just over three hours.

  ‘I’ll be ready,’ she promised, then hesitated. ‘I’m sorry you met with such opposition this afternoon. I thought Chris was rather unreasonable.’

  ‘Not at all. He hasn’t seen the Dakota; I have. It was a natural enough reaction. I would have done the same in his place. Tot Siens,’ he added, and roared away. It was her first experience of the Schroeders closing ranks against outsiders.

  The thought of an intimate dinner on a balcony overlooking a bay was killed almost before it was born. They had just set off when Jan apologized for having to make a very brief business call first. They followed the coastal road for some time, which gave Margaret another opportunity to see the really splendid scenic qualities of this peninsular. When she was wishing it would go on and on, Jan turned off and soon entered the forecourt of a very ugly modern mansion. Margaret waited in the car while her companion went in, but he soon reappeared and walked round to open her door.

  ‘There is a party starting and we are invited.’ He took her arm to help her out. ‘When Van Heerdon throws a party it’s really something. You’ll get more to eat here than I could have bought you at the Golden Bay hotel.’

  Margaret had no wish to attend a party given by the dubious Van Heerdon, but Jan was apparently a dab hand at faits accomplis and she was inside the house handing her coat to a coloured maid before a suitable comment occurred to her.

  Her host, short, thickset and sandy-haired, summed her up optically as he approached and apparently found she reached his required standard. A smile altered the rather severe pale face as introductions were made, but it was his voice which surprised her. With a name like Van Heerdon, it was reasonable to suppose his English would be accented in the way of most people she had met in Cape Town, but he spoke in an upstage Etonian drawl which may have fooled South Africans, but to Margaret sounded as phoney as vinyl masquerading as leather.

  The room was already filling up and Jan was immediately set upon by two girls who declared he simply must demonstrate a particular trick they had been describing to a man called Sammy. Before he allowed himself to be dragged off, Jan introduced Margaret as Maggie Ward, a friend of his sister-in-law. The two girls showed quite openly that they had not for one minute believed she was a friend of Jan’s and Margaret smiled inwardly. She was used to that kind of look from board-thin jetsetters with orange mouths, carefully streaked hair, and earrings which reached to their shoulders, but there was no shortage of men who found her own glowing complexion, dark glossy hair, and very rounded curves infinitely preferable.

  This was not her scene at all, but she found an evening spent this way provided her with an interesting study of human nature. Indeed, Jan was now the centre of a rowdy group who were urging him on to balance six full glasses, one on top of the other, on his chest as he bent backwards. He wore the right uniform – skintight white trousers and an orange shirt fastened at the neck with a patterned scarf – but Margaret felt sure this was not his scene either. Just why did he do it?

  Van Heerdon, completely forgotten by the English girl, followed her eyes and remarked into her ear, ‘That’s why I like him. He is very malleable.’

  ‘I don’t agree,’ she flashed back. ‘Adaptability is vastly different from weakness. I envy him his capacity to change from shrewd company director to light-hearted guest within a couple of hours.’

  ‘You’ve not known him long, I take it, Maggie,’ he said, using the ridiculous diminutive Jan had given her, ‘because you are from the “mother country” as they say in the colonies. Let’s make ourselves comfortable while you tell me how you met him.’

  He led the way to a purple and white striped sofa by a vast window and provided her with a tomato juice before sitting beside her. ‘Jan is so casual, he didn’t give a hint of your relationship beyond your being a friend of Helen. Are you staying with her?’

  She shook her head. ‘Jan is flying me up to Myala on Wednesday. I have been lucky enough to get an invitation from Russell Martin to further my ecological studies there. I am a fully-qualified vet but England is a bit restrictive when it comes to specialized study. Doctor Martin asked the Schroeders to fly me up when they took the supplies. That’s as far as my knowledge of the family extends.’

  ‘Yet you make instant character analyses! I’m always a little resentful when a woman hides a shrewd brain behind an ultra-feminine exterior. I feel she is taking unfair advantage.’ The smile hardly matched the soft tone of his voice.

  ‘Come, Mr. Van Heerdon, women have been liberated long enough to make a remark like that completely redundant. And surely, if a man’s conscience is clear, he has nothing to fear from a woman.’

  ‘Please call me Elliot – everyone does. I like you, Maggie, but you frighten me somewhat. I have the uncomfortable impression that I might easily underrate you.’

  ‘Why “uncomfortable”?’ she asked him, disliking the man more every minute.

  He took a draught from his glass while his pale eyes tried to make her break her steady gaze. He didn’t succeed. ‘I prefer to deal with people who are transparent. I know exactly where I stand, then. Take Jan, for instance. He is motivated by the desire to take possession of Schroeder Freight limited. For that he needs money and is prepared to do anything to get it. That’s what I meant when I said he is malleable.’

  ‘You are wrong,’ Margaret told him. ‘The tip of an iceberg may seem transparent, but it is an elaborate trick to hide the opaque mass beneath the sea.’

  He tilted back his head in a supreme gesture. ‘I know Jan Schroeder. I can buy him any time I like.’

  Chapter Two

  The evening dragged on. It was only made bearable for Margaret by the company of a Dutch mining engineer who told her about his experiences in the various diamond mines in the country. He had an amusing way of telling the most ordinary details which enchanted her and brought a sparkle to her eyes. Dancing had begun some time earlier and she had watched Jan shuffle round the room with a succession of melting girls held tightly against him while he laughed down into their eyes. It was all a sham! At the end of each dance, they took other partners and behaved in exactly the same way.

  Eventually, he came across to break the mining engineer’s monopoly saying, ‘You have been chatting up the girl I brought to this party for far too long. If you have no intention of dancing with her, I will.’

  They had hardly reached the clear space in the centre of the room when Margaret said, ‘I’d really prefer to go home. Could you call me a taxi?’

  ‘Not on your life,’ he replied. ‘We’ll have this one dance, then I’ll drive you back.’

  ‘There’s no need for you to do that. I don’t want to stop your enjoyment.’

  He gathered her against him. ‘Whatever makes you think I was enjoying myself?’

  ‘But. . . .’

  ‘Shh!’ he said. ‘There are times when women should be held and not heard.’

  It was beautifully peaceful out in the dark night. They walked to the car side by side, their footsteps ringing in the silence. Margaret breathed in the fresh air gladly and remarked on what a relief it was to get out from the smoke-filled atmosphere.

  ‘I noticed you were drinking tomato juice in there. Putting two and two together, I’d say you were an advocate of good, clean living. Am I right?’ he asked.

  She slid into the car. ‘There’s no need to make it sound so dismal! What really annoys me is that you smoke, drink and generally flout all the rules of the game, yet manage to remain as fit and healthy as I am. There is no justice in the world.’

  He laughed softly. ‘Poor Maggie! I suppose you’ll ditch that pedal-machine now. After all, why deprive yourself when you can achieve the same object by indulgence and dissolution!’

  They set off at breakneck speed which dispelled all remnants of stale smoke and stuffiness.

  ‘Are you very friendly with our host of this evening?’ she aske
d out of the blue.

  ‘Not a bit. He is a business associate, not a friend. Why?’

  ‘Chris said he is a crook, but you couldn’t see it. Is he right?’

  ‘About Van Heerdon being a crook . . . yes.’

  That surprised her. ‘Then why do you deal with him?’

  ‘Because it suits my purpose at the moment.’ He swung round a sharp bend and Margaret was thrown against him. When she straightened up she confronted him with, ‘Do you really aim to take over Schroeder Freight? Van Heerdon says you do.’

  ‘Then he should keep his observations to himself. Why the great interest in my business dealings? You are not planning on becoming a tycoon, are you?’

  She ignored that. ‘The Dakota he sold you . . . is it any good?’

  He laughed again. ‘Oh my, oh my! Not another one doubting my knowledge of aircraft. It’s becoming an epidemic.’

  ‘Is it any good?’ she persisted.

  ‘Yes, my lovely, she is a bargain. That’s why I bought her. Compared with our other machines you would hardly say this Dakota is a queen, but she is solid and reliable. I have been anxious to lay my hands on one for a long time. The company needs a stand-by aircraft in case one is put out of action. This Dak fits the bill admirably and has only cost us a third of what we would pay for any other. She’s one of the early models but everything is in the right place, and tomorrow I plan to go over her from nose to tail. Our flight to Myala will be smooth and safe. I can’t offer you first-class comfort, but no doubt you will relish the Spartan conditions.’