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able to use them as an alternative to the fruit you used at lunch time
today.'
Faun said nothing; she was just beginning to realise that this was
almost a friendly conversation. The arrogant boss of the Tarrant Line
was human for a change, revealing what could almost be an
attractiveness beneath the veneer of haughty superiority. He spoke
after a while, asking about the shelter she proposed building for
herself.
'As a matter of fact I was just about to collect some bamboo poles
when my attention was diverted by the tree frogs,' she told him.
'Don't let me detain you, then,' he said, and left her.
She stood for a long moment, her face set in thoughtful lines. She was
aware of some kind of evasion within her as if she shirked an
admission that would have aroused her anger. Her forehead puckered
in a frown of annoyance as she tried unsuccessfully to overcome the
evasion and analyse her feelings at this particular moment, as she
stood here in this teeming, humid jungle, moved in some
unfathomable way by the fact that she and Clive Tarrant had, for
once, managed to converse in a manner verging on friendliness.
At last she gave a sigh of impatience and picked up the chopper from
where she had left it when she heard the sound of the tree frogs close
by.
CHAPTER SIX
THERE was a distinct thread of satire in Clive's voice as, returning
back from the walk he had taken along the river bank, he asked Faun
how she was getting on.
'Fine,' she answered, instantly putting one hand behind her back.
With her right hand she was just going to chop at a length of bamboo
cane when Clive said swiftly,
Tine, eh? And why are you hiding--'
'Yes, fine,' interrupted Faun with a trace of defiance. 'I'm thoroughly
enjoying it.' She winced as she spoke, but averted her head, hoping he
had not noticed.
'You're finding it exhausting, though.' A statement, which afforded
him extreme satisfaction, she thought. 'Don't you dare deny it,' he told
her. 'I'm not such a fool that I can't see that you're just about all in.
Wouldn't Tommy help you?' His eyes went to her side, the left side.
Faun hoped that blood was not dripping from the wound she had. just
inflicted upon herself.
'I refused his help.' She reflected on Tommy's offer that he give her
some assistance, once she had told him that Clive was in agreement
with her having the shelter. She had refused his help simply because it
occurred to her that Clive's only reason for that capitulation was the
conviction that the task would prove beyond her. She was, in
consequence, determined to let him see he was mistaken.
'Refused his help?' repeated Clive with a hint of perception.
'I wanted the satisfaction of doing it myself.'
'Or of proving to me that you could do it yourself,' he rejoined levelly.
Being an honest person Faun had to own that his assumption was
correct, at which he told her that she was far more transparent than
she knew. She had nothing to say to this, having heard her father
make the same pronouncement on many occasions.
'You mustn't waste your time here,' she said presently, wanting only
to get to the first-aid box and find something to take the pain from her
hand. 'I expect you've plenty to do.'
'What have you done to that hand?' The question was put imperiously
and immediately followed by an order to bring her hand forward.
'It's nothing; I merely--' She got no further as,
with an impatient exclamation, Clive snatched the chopper from her,
tossed it on the ground, then took hold of her arm and swung her
round.
'You wretch!' he murmured softly. Her hand was bleeding profusely
and she actually gave a little cry when he began to probe beneath the
blood to find the wound. 'So you're not as clever as you thought you
were, eh? not quite so tough as you'd like me to believe? I've a good
mind to make you howl like that again--'
'I didn't howl!' she blazed. 'Leave go of my wrist!'
'If I do it'll be to put you across my knee and make you smart!'
'Oh ...!' Faun's fury prevented anything more than that; she felt that a
conflagration was consuming her whole body.
'Come on! 'he commanded, but gave her no choice as he literally
dragged her towards the spare shelter which served as a sort of
communal sitting-room. In it were stored the tinned rations, the
first-aid kit and several other items taken from the aircraft. 'Sit down,
and don't you dare move while I'm away getting water!'
She found herself obeying him, rather to her chagrin, but the pain was
becoming too uncomfortable for her to argue.
'There's some boiled water in one of the flasks,' she said.
'Where?'
Faun gestured to a bamboo table which stood in the corner, made by
Tommy who jokingly said he would take up jungle craft for a living,
he was becoming so good at it.
'On there.'
'Give me your hand,' he was saying a moment later as he stood over
her, his height and his manner so overpowering that she wanted to get
up and run from him. 'So, Miss Competent! you don't know
everything, apparently. You didn't realise you had to take the greatest
care when working bamboo, did you?' Faun made no answer; she was
in fact having to bite her lip hard in order to hold back the little cries
of pain that rose-convulsively in her throat. 'You never realised that
the outer skin of bamboo, when split, could injure you like this!' He [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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