The Smouldering Flame. Anne Mather
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 Shannon’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.’