Who Rides A Tiger. Anne Mather

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Who Rides A Tiger - Anne  Mather


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have come to Brazil to marry Senhor Harding, haven’t you, senhorita?’

      Dominique felt the hot colour surge into her cheeks, ‘Yes,’ she said shortly. ‘Yes, I have.’

      Salvador nodded, in a satisfied way, and Dominique had the impression he believed he had achieved something. Like master, like servant, she thought a trifle irritatedly.

      But he had succeeded in halting further questions from his passenger. She realized that whatever she might ask now would merely make her sound unnecessarily curious.

      ‘Does the journey take long?’ she asked, assuming a cool indifference.

      ‘Forty – maybe fifty minutes,’ replied Salvador. ‘You are eager to reach your destination, senhorita?’

      ‘Of course,’ said Dominique briefly. Then: ‘Do you know my fiancé?’

      ‘Senhor Harding? Yes, senhorita, I know him.’ Salvador was certainly not expansive in his answers to her questions.

      Dominique sighed. Then she drew out her cigarettes. She seemed to be smoking far too much, but she needed something to do to fill in the time. When her cigarette was lit, Salvador said:

      ‘What do you know of Bela Vista, senhorita?’

      Dominique glanced at him. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Nothing of any consequence, senhorita. It is a beautiful little town. Set among these mountains like – how would you say – a rose among thorns. There are many blocks of new apartments, built by the government for the workers, and there are parks and places of interest. I am sure you will like living there.’

      Dominique listened with interest. ‘Do you live in Bela Vista, Salvador?’

      ‘I live where Senhor Santos lives,’ he replied simply. ‘Sometimes at Bela Vista, sometimes in Rio, sometimes in Europe. Senhor Santos is a restless man, senhorita.’

      ‘That I can believe,’ remarked Dominique, a trifle dryly.

      ‘It was not always so,’ said Salvador, as though forced to give some explanation. ‘But Senhor Santos is not a man to be easily understood. I can remember when he was a boy of perhaps fifteen or sixteen – eager for life – for experience. Now he has learned it is not experiences that destroy a man but people!’

      Dominique studied the glowing tip of her cigarette. ‘You’re very loyal, Salvador,’ she said curiously.

      ‘Senhor Santos has given me everything,’ said Salvador fiercely. ‘Education, occupation, position! I do not forget, senhorita.’

      Dominique raised her dark eyebrows. Obviously Salvador considered Vincente Santos more than merely his employer. Then she gave her attention to the scenery. She was spending far too much time brooding on affairs that should be of no concern to her.

      The hills in the morning light were a mixture of shades of grey and blue and brown, sometimes dark and forbidding, and at others green with foliage. In the ravines fast rivers surged unceasingly, while here and there were collections of dwellings, and the upward drift of blue smoke. A road wound between the hills like a dun-coloured snake, disappearing sometimes beneath the overhanging cliffs of hard rock. The shadow of the helicopter moved steadily onwards, and she began to wonder how much longer it would take. Then, suddenly, Salvador began the downward sweep and below she saw a green valley, spreading out as their height decreased, totally at variance with its surroundings. And in the valley she saw the town of Bela Vista.

      There were houses on the outskirts of the town, huge affairs with swimming pools and tennis courts, while nearer the city were tall blocks of apartments, and offices, and schools. At the furthest point from the town towered a cluster of machinery and buildings that Dominique presumed must be the refinery and the laboratory where John worked.

      The helicopter came down lower and below them Dominique could see a kind of park with a stretch of greenery big enough to take the powerful propellers of the helicopter. Salvador brought the craft level, steadied it, and then put it down neatly on the stretch of green, not far from the bustling main thoroughfare of Bela Vista.

      ‘So we are here!’ he said, giving her a slight smile. ‘We have landed safely, and there is your fiancé eagerly waiting for you.’

      Dominique looked, saw several people at the perimeter of the area, all seeming strange and unfamiliar to her, and for a moment her heart missed a beat. Then she recognized John, but he had changed enormously. He now sported a thick beard and moustache, and his hair had grown rather long since his arrival. He must have had it cut, she supposed, but it was still straggling on the collar of his shirt. Big and broad, dressed in denim slacks and a brilliant orange shirt, he looked almost a stranger.

      She got out of the helicopter carefully, with Salvador’s assistance, and then before she had time to hesitate John was beside her, hugging her enthusiastically, pressing his rough cheeks to hers.

      ‘Dominique, Dominique, Dominique,’ he was saying excitedly. ‘Oh, it’s marvellous to see you, Dominique!’

      She struggled to free herself, self-consciously aware of the eyes of the sightseers watching them. Salvador was watching them, too, a strange expression on his face.

      ‘John!’ she protested, at last. ‘Let me get my breath!’

      John gave her a final hug and then, keeping his arm across her shoulders, walked with her across to Salvador.

      ‘Thanks, Salvador,’ he said casually. ‘Sorry about the mess-up! But these things happen, don’t they?’

      ‘It was nothing, senhor,’ replied Salvador carefully.

      Dominique noticed that his voice was cold. Obviously, like his master, he didn’t like John much either.

      Then they were free to go, and John was leading her across to a low slung blue car and putting her case into the back.

      ‘Well?’ he said, spreading his hands. ‘What do you think of it?’

      Dominique shook her head. She was not yet over her first impressions of John, and his question made her aware of how engrossed she had been with her own feelings to the exclusion of everything else.

      ‘I – I haven’t had a chance to take much in yet,’ she exclaimed. ‘But from the air it was beautiful. It’s amazing to think that such a place could flourish here, among these mountains.’

      ‘Yes, isn’t it? Still, you’ll soon get used to it. I’ve been offered a permanent post here and I’m seriously thinking of accepting it.’

      Dominique gave him a faint smile. ‘Are you? I thought you only expected to be here about two years.’

      ‘So I did,’ replied John, turning on the ignition, and starting the engine. ‘But like I said, they’ve offered me a better position, and I like it here now I’ve got used to it. Oh, I know it’s a bit isolated, and some people don’t like the country, but I do. And I’d like to see a lot more of it. I thought we’d take the opportunity on our honeymoon of exploring a bit of the interior. We can hire almost everything we need – tents, sleeping bags, cooking equipment and so on.’

      Dominique wrinkled her nose. ‘I thought we were going to Petropolis.’

      ‘We were. But this is more exciting, don’t you think?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ said Dominique doubtfully, and it was left at that.

      They drove along the Rua Carioca towards the outskirts of the city, and Dominique said: ‘Where is your apartment?’

      ‘Not far from here. But we’re not going there. The Rawlings have a house, just outside of town, and they’ve invited us both for lunch. That’s who you are staying with, you remember?’

      ‘Of course.’ Dominique nodded, quelling the feeling of disappointment she felt that she was not to have some time alone with


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