The Smouldering Flame. Anne Mather
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‘Yes’m, Miss Camilla.’
Jacob left them, and Joanna tried not to let the other woman’s assumption of authority undermine her confidence. But her words had been in the nature of a reprimand, and it was apparent that Jacob regarded her instructions as law.
‘Now …’ The woman Jacob had called Camilla indicated a low armchair. ‘Won’t you sit down, Miss Carne? I’m sure we can speak much more amicably that way.’
Joanna took a deep breath. ‘I prefer to stand.’
She didn’t. But the small gesture of defiance did not go unnoticed as she had intended.
‘Very well.’ Camilla made an indifferent gesture. ‘What brings you to Kwyana, Miss Carne?’
‘I don’t think that’s anything to do with you,’ replied Joanna evenly. ‘And I’d like to ask some questions of my own, if you have no objections.’
‘None at all.’
Camilla lounged gracefully into an armchair, crossing her long slender legs, and immediately Joanna felt at a disadvantage. The white uniform did something for the other woman, she had to admit, and she could quite see that Camilla would enjoy wearing it. It would command admiration and respect among the Africans, and was the perfect foil for her dark beauty.
Suddenly aware of her own dishevelled appearance when compared to that dusky elegance, Joanna broke into speech: ‘What is wrong with my brother?’
Camilla’s look was vaguely condescending. ‘Malaria, Miss Carne. Your brother is recovering from an attack of malaria.’
‘Is that serious?’
‘It can be. But nowadays, with modern drugs and modern treatment, it is not the debilitating thing it once was. Nevertheless, it can be most unpleasant for the patient, as you saw.’
Joanna nodded. ‘But is he getting better?’
‘Well, he’s not getting any worse,’ Camilla amended dryly. ‘Knowing your brother, I’d say he’d be up and about in a couple of days.’
‘Oh, thank goodness!’ Joanna could not hide her relief, but the other woman was regarding her frowningly.
‘I—I understood Shannon broke with his family some years ago,’ she ventured unexpectedly, and Joanna felt the hot colour fill her cheeks.
‘Did you?’ she managed, turning away towards the windows which overlooked the bungalow adjacent to this, noticing how the shadows were lengthening as the afternoon drew to its close. It would be dark soon. ‘I—I’m very hungry,’ she said quietly. ‘Do you think Jacob would make me a sandwich? I haven’t eaten since this morning.’
She was conscious of Camilla getting to her feet, and glanced round half apprehensively to find the other woman surveying her contemptuously. Without her controlled mask of composure she looked older than Joanna had first thought her, but no less intimidating.
‘Shannon will not want you here,’ she stated with cold conviction. ‘I know how he feels about his—family!’
Joanna squared her shoulders. ‘Do you? Well, I intend to stay and find that out for myself.’
‘Then you’re a fool!’ Camilla controlled her sudden outburst, and with calmer emphasis, asked: ‘Where do you intend to stay? There are no hotels here.’
Joanna gasped. ‘I—shall stay here, naturally.’
‘Where? There is only one bedroom. These bungalows are built for individuals, not for entertaining.’
Joanna looked about her. ‘I can use two of these chairs, pushed together. You don’t have to bother about me, Miss—Miss——?’
‘Langley. Nurse Langley,’ retorted Camilla abruptly. ‘And you can’t sleep here. There’s no mosquito netting, and these chairs are probably infested with bugs. Or don’t you care?’
Joanna hid her instinctive shiver of fear. Insects of any kind terrified her, but she refused to let Camilla see that. ‘I’ll manage somehow,’ she insisted, clinging to the knowledge that this woman could not force her to leave.
‘Why have you come here?’
Clearly her presence at Kwyana represented a problem to Camilla, but Joanna had no intention of satisfying her curiosity.
‘I want to speak to Shannon,’ she said steadily. ‘Now, will you call Jacob, or shall I?’
That small piece of defiance brought an angry darkening of colour to Camilla’s cheeks, but before either of them could speak again, someone knocked at the outer door and a man’s voice, with a definite American accent, called: ‘Is anybody home?’
Camilla’s face cleared, and ignoring Joanna, she walked to the hall door, her smile warm and welcoming. ‘I’m here, Brad,’ she answered. ‘Come on in.’
Footsteps sounded in the hall, and then a man appeared in the doorway, casually dressed in a bush shirt and shorts. He was a huge man, with broad shoulders and rusty hair that extended from his head, over his chest and down his arms and legs. Joanna guessed he wasn’t much more than Shannon’s age, and his bushy eyebrows ascended rapidly at sight of her.
‘Hell’s teeth, who’s this?’ he exclaimed, grinning. ‘A white female, no less. Shannon has all the luck!’
Camilla cast a denigrating glance in Joanna’s direction. ‘That is Shannon’s sister,’ she remarked briefly. ‘Or so she says. I must say, she doesn’t look much like him!’
‘I am Shannon’s sister!’ declared Joanna hotly, and then coloured herself at the look in the American’s eyes.
‘I believe you,’ he said, coming towards her holding out his hand. ‘I’m Brad Steiner, ventilation superintendent at the mine. And you’re …?’
‘Joanna. Joanna Carne. How do you do?’ Joanna allowed him to envelop her small hand in his much larger one, and then withdrew her fingers quickly. ‘Are you a friend of my brother’s, Mr Steiner?’
‘The name’s Brad, and yes, I guess you could call me that. We’re old buddies. Used to work together in the Transvaal. Came up to Lushasa at the same time.’
‘I see.’
As Joanna absorbed this, Brad turned back to Camilla. ‘Anyway, how is he?’ he asked, with evident concern. ‘That’s why I came. Meeting Joanna …’ he used her name quite unselfconsciously, ‘was just a bonus.’
‘He’s a little better,’ replied Camilla shortly. She had not liked Brad’s response to Joanna’s fair attraction, and her smile was no longer in evidence. ‘I’ve just been explaining to Miss Carne that she can’t possibly stay here.’
Brad frowned. ‘Stay here? Oh, you mean actually here, in Shannon’s house?’ He looked Joanna’s way again. ‘Shannon didn’t mention you