After Sundown Read online

  AFTER SUNDOWN

  Anne Hampson

  For years Tina and her sister Moira had been spoiled and indulged by their stepfather Austin. Everything they wanted, he gave them; there was never any question of either of them earning their own living. So when the girls decided they would like a holiday in Menorca they took it for granted that Austin would finance them as usual.

  But suddenly things took an unexpected and dramatic turn, when Austin's son Charles appeared on the scene. Charles had never approved of his frivolous stepsisters and their idle ways. He decided things had gone quite far enough, and he announced his own plans for the girls’ future; they were to go, not to Menorca or anywhere like it, but to his huge station in the Australian Outback, to do some work for a change and grow up.

  And Charles was to change both girls' lives in more ways than one ...

  CHAPTER ONE

  Smiling affectionately as his stepdaughters entered the room, Austin Sands allowed his eyes to run over one jodhpur-clad figure and then the other. He had been studying some papers set out before him on a small table by the fire, but now he pushed it to one side and leant back in the big comfortable armchair.

  ‘You got wet, obviously?’

  ‘It’s such cold, miserable weather,’ complained Tina, tossing her hat on to a couch. ‘We haven’t had a comfortable ride for over a week!’

  ‘June,’ supplemented Moira pettishly, taking a seat on the arm of Austin’s chair, ‘and nothing but wind and rain!’ She gave a deep and soulful sigh. ‘We’re thoroughly fed up, so we’ve decided to go off to a sunny island for the rest of the summer.’ A coaxing hand slid around the old man’s neck, and Moira rubbed her smooth cheek against his. ‘You can come if you want, darling.’ Moira winked at her sister as the purring invitation left her lips, and Tina grinned. She was still by the couch. Of medium height, and slender of form, she had the kind of figure that invariably attracted attention, as did her beautiful features and clear, widely-spaced brown eyes. Her hair, shoulder-length and the enchanting colour of dark honey, hung rather limply, for she had got it wet a few moments ago when for several minutes the heavens seemed to open. ‘Are you coming with us, darling?’ Caressing her stepfather’s cheek with a slender well-manicured hand Moira went on to add that he could do with a rest from all this stuffy work. ‘I’m sure you don’t really need to do it, pet. Why don’t you give it to someone else?’

  Austin Sands merely smiled faintly and shook his head. Moira asked again if he were going with them, his action having escaped her for she was looking at Tina and winking again. Her voice, full of confidence, was tinged with a hardness not found in that of her sister. On the contrary, Tina’s voice was low and musical and scarcely ever raised. Not that she was without a temper—just the reverse. But life with a rich and indulgent stepfather went with such luxurious smoothness that the occasions when her temper came into play were exceedingly rare. Smiling, she came forward, and took possession of the other arm of the chair.

  ‘We thought of Menorca, Father,’ she told him affectionately. ‘Donald Thorpe’s there and the postcards he’s sent us are fabulous. And he’s so enthusiastic about the island ... We’ve decided on it for our holiday.’

  Austin twisted his grey head to look from one beautiful sister to the other. Moira, three years Tina’s senior, possessed all the confidence of a woman much older than her twenty-two years, while in contrast Tina had an enchanting immaturity which he had always found most endearing. Nevertheless, he was under no illusions regarding either of the girls, whose mother, Janice, had died only two years after her marriage to Austin, leaving him with Tina, aged eight, and Moira, aged eleven. It had been Austin’s second marriage also, his first wife being an Australian girl who inherited a vast cattle station from her father, and which on her death passed to their son, Charles, under the terms of her father’s will. Charles, a hardened Outback grazier, was at thirty-three still unmarried, and this—Tina asserted—was due to his having an interest in nothing but his work. She disliked him excessively, and she knew for sure that the dislike was mutual because she had once overheard him say to his father, when he was over on a visit,

  ‘You’re too soft with them both, but with Tina you’re ridiculous! You allow yourself to be twisted round her little finger.’ It was her eyes, Austin had said. They looked so pleadingly at him and he found himself quite unable to resist any request she might make. ‘Eyes!’ Charles had scoffed, adding that the female was not breathing who could captivate him merely by using her eyes. ‘She knows exactly how to handle you,’ Charles had continued while, crimson with anger, Tina had listened from the open window to what was being said by the two men seated on the lawn outside. ‘The girl’s a brat —-a spoiled and conscienceless brat!’

  Charles had been over again since then and Tina did her best to avoid him as much as possible. He and Moira had never met, as she was away on holiday on both occasions that he had visited his father.

  ‘So you’ve planned to go off and leave our wet weather behind?’ Austin’s voice brought Tina back to more pleasant things and she smiled sweetly at him.

  ‘That’s right,’ she answered, and Moira nodded in support, neither girl noticing the odd, implacable expression that had entered their stepfather’s eyes.

  ‘How long do you propose to stay?’

  ‘For the rest of the summer,’ from Moira, who added that she had just told him this.

  ‘How long is that in weeks?’

  Tina spread her hands.

  ‘About eight,’ she replied carelessly.

  ‘Or longer,’ supplemented Moira, yawning in a bored sort of way.

  ‘I see,’ thoughtfully as Austin pulled forward a letter from the table close by.

  ‘From Charles?’ Tina would have looked over his shoulder, but to her surprise Austin covered the letter with his other hand. ‘Secretive all at once?’ she chided with a quick laugh. She was teasing him and expected him to ruffle her hair, or place a kiss on her cheek, but he did neither and, frowning suddenly, she glanced at Moira.

  ‘Can’t we read what Charles has to say?’ Moira touched his cheek, then kissed him lightly on the brow.

  Tina watched. Moira certainly did have a way with Father, she thought, wondering—despite the conversation she had overheard—if Austin would have been so easily handled had it been left to Tina herself.

  Ignoring Moira’s question, Austin said,

  ‘Where do you expect to get the money for this two months or so on Menorca?’

  A stunned silence followed this totally unexpected question. The sisters exchanged glances before looking at their stepfather, both blinking uncomprehendingly.

  ‘From you, of course.’ Tina frowned again, for Austin seemed a very long way off. ‘Are you all right, Father?’ she added anxiously. ‘You’re not feeling unwell, darling?’

  He looked right into her eyes, a faint smile curving his lips. No, he had no illusions whatsoever about either of these lovely girls who, with typical feminine intuition, had at an early age become aware of their stepfather’s great love for the widow he had married. Often they heard him repeat her dying words,

  ‘Take good care of my little ones, Austin. Be a kind and generous father to them.’ In sorrow, and in all good faith, he had given the promise, but he had known for some time that he should never have allowed the girls to hear of that promise. For with the guile known only to females they had exploited the situation—and become spoiled in consequence. If, when they were younger, he attempted for their own good to deny them something, they would cry and say they wished their mummy were here. At which Austin would instantly capitulate and give them what they wanted—more often than not, with interest. He now knew what damage had been done and a few weeks previously he had begun seri
ously to think of a way of repairing this damage.

  ‘So you’re getting the money from me,’ he said as Moira gave a loud sigh to remind him of where he was. ‘No, Tina dear, I’m not unwell,’ he added in answer to her question. ‘Do you realize how much it would cost for me to send you to Menorca for the rest of the summer?’

  ‘A few hundred, I know,’ from Moira, who accompanied her estimate with a careless shrug of her elegant shoulders.

  ‘It would cost a thousand at least, which is what some people earn in a year.’

  The frown reappeared between Tina’s eyes. Above her stepfather’s head her lips formed the words, ‘Whatever’s the matter with him? He must be ill!’ Aloud she said, ‘Well, I know it’s a shame for these people who earn so little, but there isn’t anything we can do about it, Father.’

  ‘A queen once spoke words with a similar content to yours, Tina, and she lost her head in consequence.’

  Tina glanced at her sister, then put a finger to her temple. Moira giggled silently at the gesture, and nodded. Yes, Father was going strange in the head, she agreed.

  However, using her weapon of charm which never failed, Moira said softly,

  ‘You’re teasing us, Father, but of course you’ll give us the money to go.’ A statement; Austin was shaking his head—actually shaking his head! He was ill, that was for sure, Tina decided firmly.

  ‘No, my children, I shall not give you the money.’

  Had he brought forth a gun and pointed it at one of them he could not have produced a more astounded silence than that which fell upon the room as his words of refusal were uttered.

  ‘But—but I don’t understand?’ Moira stood lip and moved away. ‘You’re not hard up—or anything?’

  ‘Of course he isn’t hard up!’ exclaimed Tina, also rising from the arm of the chair. ‘What a silly thing to say!’

  Austin looked at her for a long moment in silence and then,

  ‘You shall go away, my children, away from this drab and dreary climate you so much dislike—’

  ‘We will?’ from Moira. ‘I knew you were teasing, darling. Where are we going? You’ve been planning it already? Oh, but you should have told us. Where are we going?’ she repeated eagerly.

  ‘Yes, I have been planning it,’ he said, for the moment ignoring her last question. ‘For some time now it’s been borne upon me that I have a couple of irresponsible girls for daughters. Butterflies, is the description my son makes. He says the only cure is work.’

  ‘Work!’ gasped Tina, appalled. ‘How perfectly horrid of Charles! But you know very well he doesn’t like me. Work,’ she repeated in tones of acute distaste. ‘I wouldn’t know how to start.’

  Her stepfather actually smiled at that.

  ‘You’re to be given the opportunity to learn,’ he told them calmly. ‘For as long as I can remember I’ve pandered to your every whim, denied you nothing, so that now you take everything for granted. You actually believe you have only to ask for a thousand pounds and you’ll get it—just like that, without doing a thing to earn it.’ He paused and Tina said soothingly, as if speaking to a fractious child,

  ‘No, dearest Father, you’re quite wrong; we’ve never taken anything for granted—’ She looked at Moira. ‘Have we?’

  ‘Certainly not. We appreciate every single thing you do for us. Of course,’ Moira went on to add, ‘you give us a lot because of your great love for Mother.’ She received a frowning glance from Tina, who was very conscious of the fact that this was not the time for using that sort of tactic. Father must be handled more subtly, if they were to get their own way, and Tina did not for a moment doubt that they would.

  ‘Probably, on occasions, you appreciate what I do for you,’ Austin was saying, just as if he had not heard the remark about the reason for his generosity. ‘But it is only on occasions ... rare occasions,’ he stressed, glancing from one to the other. Tina did have the grace to blush, but Moira was becoming angry, and the colour in her cheeks gave evidence of this.

  ‘I suppose things have come easy,’ murmured Tina almost to herself.

  ‘Far too easy, my child. You never stop to think that people work so that you can spend—and when I say spend I actually mean throw money away for most of the time.’

  ‘Throw money away!’ in unison and with hurt and faintly accusing looks. Astonishingly Austin appeared to be immune. It was Charles, Tina knew. Butterflies indeed! That was so like him. He worked hard because he liked work, but that was no reason for criticizing those who got along without it.

  ‘The clothes you both buy,’ continued Austin. ‘You wear a dress once, then give it away to the jumble sale, and it’s the same with shoes and coats—’

  ‘But the jumble sale’s for a good cause,’ Moira reminded him. ‘It’s for the church funds.’

  Tina smiled sweetly at him.

  ‘You’re always so anxious about the bugs that eat the lovely Saxon beams—’

  ‘Norman,’ intervened Moira.

  ‘Tudor,’ said Austin mechanically, then frowned and looked with a darkling expression at his younger stepdaughter. ‘That’s enough of this nonsense. The car ... the garage man rang today and told me it’s a complete write-off. How did you manage that?’

  Tina hung her head.

  ‘The wall ... I misjudged the distance, and—and went into it.’

  ‘I suppose,’ sighed Austin, ‘I should be so relieved that you came to no harm that I should refrain from even commenting on the financial loss?’

  Tina was quite unable to look up.

  ‘I’m very sorry, Father. I’ll be much more careful next time.’

  ‘Next time? You’re not getting a new car, Tina.’

  At that she did look up, swiftly.

  ‘No?’ she gasped.

  ‘No,’ he repeated with a sternness neither girl had ever witnessed. How like Charles he looked, thought Tina, for the moment diverted. So straight he was, seeming to dominate the room by his height when standing. And lean as his son, though not nearly so sinewed—but then Charles lived the sort of life that made for muscular development. She noted her stepfather’s wide arrogant shoulders, his firm and prominent jaw, flexed now in a way quite unfamiliar to him but which was essentially a permanent part of his son’s normal expression. Austin’s hair was grey, while Charles’s was light brown, to go with his deep blue eyes, eyes which pierced and examined and often narrowed with impatience or contempt. ‘And now,’ Austin was saying, ‘perhaps we can stop digressing and get down to the serious business of your future.’ A slight pause as absently he lifted the hand covering the letter. ‘I’ve just said, if you remember, that I’ve been planning to get you both away from this dreary climate which you appear to dislike so much.’ Another pause; neither girl commented on what he had just said, but waited for him to continue. Tina knew a deep foreboding but although she steeled herself to hear something grim she was staggered when her stepfather said they were to go to Australia and work on his son’s cattle station.

  ‘You will remain there for one year,’ he added, ‘during which time you will earn your living at whatever jobs my son happens to give you.’

  The sisters stared at one another. Moira said, ‘This is Charles’s doing, I take it?’ She was white and trembling with anger.

  ‘Charles did put the idea into my head,’ he admitted. ‘Often he has expressed the opinion that I’m too indulgent, too soft altogether in allowing you to live such a useless, idle existence—’

  Those are his words?’ from Tina who was recalling what she had overheard a long while ago.

  ‘They are,’ replied Austin, making no attempt to soften what he had repeated. He stood up, moved across the room and surveyed each stepdaughter in turn. ‘Charles was right, Tina, when he said you needed disciplining.’ He stopped and smiled faintly at her expression. Anger was plainly portrayed in her rising colour and the slight compression of her lips. ‘Yes, my dear, he once said that, and had he met Moira, he would undoubtedly have said the same ab
out her. On his cattle station you will both learn that money doesn’t come so easily as you obviously believe. You’ll work for him—he’ll be your employer and as such you’ll have to afford him respect. This also will be a new experience for you—’

  ‘What? Giving him respect, you mean?’ Indignation edged Tina’s voice. ‘We always afford you respect, Father,’ she added in an injured tone.

  ‘I’ll not deny that,’ he conceded, but added, ‘Your respect, though, is superficial. Inwardly you’re of the opinion that I’m just an old fool.’

  ‘How can you say such a thing?’ indignantly from Moira. ‘Father, you’re being most unkind today!’

  Tina said nothing; she was admitting—to her own surprise—that what Austin said was true. Inwardly they did consider him a fool—a fool who would indulge their every whim and want. He denied them nothing. His wealth had always been at their disposal. Despite her secret admission, however, Tina was by no means ready and willing to give up the fight.

  ‘You wouldn’t be so cruel as to send us out to Charles, would you, dearest Father? And besides, you’d be unhappy too, because of missing us ...’ She allowed her voice to fade to silence as he began shaking his head. ‘I don’t understand you at all,’ she then added. ‘You’ve never been like this before.’

  ‘Perhaps it would have been better if I had, for this lesson you must learn would not have been necessary. Charles is already of the opinion that I’ve left it late, and that you’re almost past—er—reclaiming, is the term he uses in one of his letters.’

  Tina’s colour heightened; she glanced at Moira and saw that she also had gone red. Tina would very much have liked to voice her opinion of the pompous son of her stepfather, but naturally she refrained. But she did say,

  ‘I don’t think Charles ought to pass comments like that. After all, he doesn’t know us properly.’

  ‘He doesn’t know Moira at all. He does know you, though, and he saw at once that you were being over-indulged. He is fully aware that Moira also gets whatever she wants and that, like you, she leads an aimless, lazy existence.’