Blind Man's Buff Read online

  She rose next morning, puffy-eyed from lack of sleep and with her head feeling as if it was stuffed with cotton wool. Her descent to the carport when it came time to go to work was tentative, cautious. But in vain. Ran wasn’t waiting to confront her with her duplicity; nor was he waiting when she got home that evening.

  Rena didn’t see him on Friday, either, except as a shadowy figure that was barely visible when she peered in the lounge room window, now becoming somewhat concerned for him, instead of herself.

  But on Saturday he appeared, so early that when he knocked on her door she had to call out to him to wait and scurry into the first clothes she could find. It wasn’t until she had answered the door to find him waiting with a vaguely impatient scowl on his face that she realised her hurried dressing hadn’t really been necessary.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,’ he said, and on being assured that she was awake, merely not quite presentable, he grinned.

  ‘That’s the worst thing about being blind; you miss out on almost all the fun,’ he said. ‘But that wasn’t what I came for. Are you doing anything tomorrow?’

  Was she? Of course she wasn’t, but caution made her hesitate. Was Ran setting her up for something? Had he somehow managed to hold back his confrontation until he could arrange an appropriate time, an appropriate setting?

  ‘Please don’t let me upset anything you’ve already planned,’ he said then, obviously sensing her hesitation.

  ‘No ... no,’ she hastened to assure him. ‘There’s nothing planned that’s important enough to worry about.’ Actually, she had nothing planned at all, but she dared not admit it.

  ‘I’d like to ask quite a large favour,’ he said. ‘Is there a nice beach somewhere near ... some place we might go for a long walk and have a talk?’

  Rena drew a deep breath. Was this it, then? And yet, somehow, she felt that it wasn’t. Not even Ran was so consummate an actor as this.

  ‘I imagine I could find somewhere,’ she replied. ‘But if you want to talk about something, why not here ... now?’ And at least, she thought we can get it over with if it’s a confrontation he wants. But no such luck.

  ‘I need the exercise, among other things,’ he grinned. ‘And I’ve still got a bit of thinking to do before ... well, before I ask your opinion about what I have in mind.’

  ‘I suppose you realise it’s cruel to prey upon my curiosity,’ Rena said then, her brows furrowed as she tried with her usual lack of success to read his expression.

  ‘But of course; that’s the whole idea,’ he replied, then flatly refused to provide so much as a hint about what he wanted to discuss. Instead he nodded politely in acceptance of a ten o’clock start, and turned away to make his cautious journey back down the staircase.

  Ran was waiting for her when Rena emerged next morning after another typically tortured night with little sleep and far too much thinking. He stood at the bottom of her staircase, leaning casually against the balustrade, clad in only a pair of cut-off blue jean shorts and a faded, matching shirt that was open practically to the waist.

  He looked up at her approach, briefly, then lowered his head against as if in realisation that he might look but never see. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Rena’s own eyes were caught by the glint of his medallion — her medallion — in the bright sunlight.

  She couldn’t see Ran’s eyes behind his reflective glasses, but was relieved to see that he was smiling when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

  ‘We should have started this much earlier,’ he said. ‘It’s going to be hot as hell.’

  ‘Well all you had to do was ask,’ she retorted. ‘I’ve been up practically since dawn, and I imagine you have as well.’

  ‘No such luck; I don’t suffer from too much light interrupting my sleep, don’t forget,’ he replied. But not angrily, not grimly, not even really bitterly.

  ‘Anyway, am I suitably dressed for the occasion? I thought if you don’t mind playing seeing-eye dog I’d forget my damned white stick today and try to look halfways normal at least.’

  ‘You look marvellous,’ Rena replied. And it was no lie; her heart fairly leapt at the sight of his lean, muscular body, a body she had once known so intimately. As he had known hers. She was dressed just as casually as Ran, although her own shirt wasn’t open quite to the waist and she had her bikini on underneath it and her faded board shorts.

  ‘No compliments, please. You’ll turn my head and make me even more conceited than you already think I am,’ he replied with a wide grin. Rena returned it, but she couldn’t help wondering what had happened to put him in such a cheerful frame of mind.

  He was generally quiet during their long drive to Moore Park, a small beach settlement about twenty miles north of Bundaberg. To get there meant considerable back-tracking, since they had to drive all the way into the city so as to cross the Burnett River before working their way back towards the coast, but Ran had said he wanted a long walk, and Rena was determined to give it to him.

  From the kiosk at Moore Park there was nothing but a straight line of beach for miles to the north. If he wished, they could walk all the way to where the Kolan River merged with the sea at Miara.

  She parked her vehicle beneath a huge, spreading she-oak on the edge of the dunes, and a few moments later they were carefully negotiating the track down to the hard-packed sand of the beach.

  It was a tricky exercise, hampered both by the deep, soft sand and the fact that Ran seemed determined to manage with as little help as possible. It wasn’t until he slipped and fell for the second time that he ungraciously accepted Rena’s hand.

  ‘Damned nuisance,’ he muttered. ‘Sorry, Rena ... not you. I should have brought the bloody stick, I guess. I’d forgotten how difficult it is to walk in soft sand, even when you can see where you’re going.’

  ‘I think you’ve done wonderfully,’ she replied, gasping just a little at the effort of trying to maintain both his balance and her own. For the first time, she realised how much wiser it might have been to enter the beach from the main parking area, where the track was better.

  But by then they had reached the hard-packed sand left by the ebbing tide; Rena had actually timed things quite well and the damp sand made a good footpath.

  ‘Ah, this is better,’ said Ran, turning unerringly towards the sea and throwing back his head to let the brisk sea-breeze ruffle his hair. ‘Point me towards the water and stop me before I get to New Zealand,’ he said. ‘It feels like forever since I had a swim.’

  ‘But ... but ... should you?’ she asked. Was he crazy, hell bent on some ridiculous suicide mission? Her own uncertainty was tinged by real fear.

  ‘You’re damned right I should,’ he replied with a grim chuckle. ‘Not only should, I’m going to. You can stay here and guard my sunglasses.’

  ‘I will not! If you’re mad enough to try swimming when you can’t even see what you’re doing, then I’m coming too,’ Rena cried. ‘But at least give me a minute to strip down to my swimsuit.’

  ‘I’d even help you,’ he said with a wicked grin, ‘but I know that’s not on, so I’ll just go on ahead and you can catch up at your own pace.’

  And to Rena’s astonishment, he placed his sunglasses into the hand he had been holding, then plunged straight for the sea at a steady, determined trot. He slowed when the water splashed against his bare ankles, slowed even more when it reached to his muscular thighs. But he didn’t stop, and seemed oblivious to the fact that his clothing was being soaked.

  ‘Ran!’ She screamed his name out twice, but he didn’t listen ... or didn’t appear to. Rena flung off her clothing with careless haste and plunged after him, unsure of his true intentions.

  But when she finally reached him, in water so deep she nearly had to swim to where he stood spraddle- legged against the power of the waves, he laughed a huge, joyful greeting as her hand closed on his arm.

  ‘Isn’t it terrific? Fantastic!’ And he flung himself backwards with the next wave
to emerge dripping but still laughing as he scrabbled for his balance.

  Rena flung herself almost as quickly, afraid he might become disorientated under water, but by the time she reached his side again he was in total control, giving himself to the surging power of the waves, riding the water and quite oblivious to any dangers.

  Even when a wave, unseen, smashed across his face and left him spluttering for breath, he merely shook himself free and lurched towards the shallower water close to shore.

  ‘You’re mad!’ Rena finally caught up, her anger tinged with disbelief at the carelessness of his attitude. ‘What are you trying to do — kill yourself?’

  ‘Of course not. I’m just having fun,’ he replied, shouting against the noise of rushing sea and brisk wind. Even as he finished speaking, a breaking wave thrust him off balance, throwing him against Rena so that they fell together in the waist-deep water.

  She felt his arms close around her, reached out to grip him with her own, unable to ignore the flow of desire that raced through her at the feel of his bare legs against her own, his muscular chest grinding against her breasts. But when they struggled to their feet. Ran released her quickly, almost as if the touch of her was repugnant to him.

  ‘Maybe you’re right,’ he muttered. ‘We’d better start on our walk before I do something dangerously stupid.’ Letting the waves guide him, he ploughed ashore, then stood waiting as Rena fetched her clothing and his sunglasses.

  As she did so, her mind replayed his last words, words so ambiguous she had to wonder what he had meant. Dangerously stupid to play in the sea? she wondered. Or to hold her in his arms as he had? She decided either answer would be too correct.

  Ran’s mood seemed to have been drastically altered by his return to land. As they strolled slowly along the tide mark, he remained silent, demanding by his very attitude that Rena do likewise. Nor did he require much help from her; instead of holding her hand, as she had rather expected, he strode confidently beside her, using the feel of the wetness at his feet, the wind, and the sound of the sea beside him for guides.

  The beach was firm and flat as far as the eye could see. Nothing on which to stumble, nothing to hamper his movements. Only on the rare occasions when his balance fooled him did he reach out to her for stability.

  The sun was warm, but not unbearably so. Just enough, indeed, to dry them quickly and keep them comfortable. It wasn’t the time of year for swimming and the water had been cold, though Rena hadn’t noticed that because of her concern and Ran simply didn’t appear to have noticed.

  They walked ... and walked ... and walked. Silently, almost like two strangers sharing a path. But there was a tension; Rena could feel it tangibly building between them. Still, when Ran finally broke the silence, it was so unexpected it startled her.

  ‘I need your advice.’ It was strangely said, the words flat and harsh, defensive.

  ‘What about?’ Her own reply was equally flat, but merely cautious.

  ‘A problem.’

  ‘Well, I rather assumed that,’ she replied gently. ‘But I will need a bit more information if I’m to advise you.’

  He didn’t answer for a moment, walking half a dozen, a dozen steps first. Then he stopped abruptly and turned to face her.

  ‘You remember I mentioned a ... woman who disappeared rather abruptly when she found out I was blind?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Well, I think I know now where she is.’ The remark struck at Rena like a slap in the face. He still loved this woman, she thought with amazement. How could he? A woman who had abandoned him at a time when he needed her most, and he still loved her.

  ‘I ... I’m not sure what you want me to say,’ Rena faltered.

  ‘I had thought I might go to her, face her with it, see what she says.’ It sounded like a decision, but his voice told a different tale; he was asking if he should do these things, not announcing a firm decision.

  ‘What do you think it would accomplish?’ Rena was floundering because she didn’t know what else to say, what possible advice she might provide that would make sense.

  He shrugged, shaking his head to let the wind ruffle his hair. ‘I might get some answers, that’s all.’

  ‘You’re still very much in love with her, aren’t you?’ Rena didn’t have to ask, she knew. Worse, she knew just how easy it could be, because she was still in love with Ran, and now realised she always had been. Despite his deceptions, despite his abandonment of her, despite his blindness ... especially that.

  ‘I suppose that sounds quite ridiculous to you,’ he said grimly. ‘It should; I think it’s ridiculous. Only I can’t seem to do much about it.’

  ‘No,’ she replied very softly, forcibly halting herself from reaching out to him, from taking his hand. ‘No, I don’t think it’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Well, you should.’ And for the first time she felt the barb of bitterness in his voice. ‘You’re obviously not still in love with the chap that did the dirty on you. Or are you?’

  Of course I am, she thought, but she said nothing. What could she say? A lie to make him wonder even more at his own logic, or the truth, the truth that had become disguised and abused and twisted out of reason by her own deceptions?

  ‘Humph! Better no answer than a lie to make me feel good,’ he grunted. And something inside Rena cried out at the horrible tangle of duplicity she had woven. Ran needed the truth from her; it might be all she could ever provide for her love, but she dared not.

  ‘Mind you, it may not come to anything anyway,’ he said, apparently forgetting his earlier question. ‘I’m .. . still not a hundred per cent sure that she’s ... where I think.’ And then, explosively, ‘But I’ll find out, damn it! I’ve got to.’ And he laughed, the bitter, mocking laugh of a man condemned without hope. ‘Not that it’s going to matter a damn; she’ll likely just keep on lying to me, as she’s always done.’

  Rena shuddered at the violence so close to the surface. ‘If you feel that way, I wonder if it would be wise to see her,’ she said. ‘I mean ... well ...’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ he growled. ‘But you forget; if I can just catch her in a lie, I might give myself the purely personal satisfaction of breaking her lovely neck. That might be the way to solve all my problems at once.’

  ‘Oh, stop it!’ Rena snapped. ‘That’s no way to be thinking and you know it.’ His sincerity frightened her, it wasn’t angry enough to be passed over. He meant it!

  He sneered. ‘For a man hater you preach a pretty soft line,’ he countered. ‘Are you going to tell me you wouldn’t like to do something similar to your ex-lover if you had the chance? Well, don’t, because I wouldn’t believe you.’

  ‘There ... was a time when I wanted to, yes,’ she agreed. Why argue with him? It was truthful enough to admit it.

  ‘But no longer? What’s the matter, Rena — going soft in your old age?’ It was a sneering, almost vicious attack, clearly geared to make her angry.

  ‘There’s no sense goading me,’ she replied as calmly as she could manage. ‘You invited me to advise you, not stand about on the beach and give you something to vent your anger on.’

  ‘You mean you won’t fight with me.’

  ‘I mean I don’t want to fight with you. Save your fighting for when you locate this woman,’ she snapped. ‘You once accused me, I might remind you, of taking out my man hating on you. Perhaps you should heed your own advice.’

  ‘Advice is usually only worth what you pay for it,’ he snorted. ‘Which makes mine, particularly, pretty damned useless.’

  ‘Oh,’ Rena replied hotly, more hotly than she really intended. ‘Does that mean I’m to be paid for today? Or just that having asked my advice you’re intending to ignore it?’

  ‘Ah! Who knows?’ he retorted angrily. ‘I’m not certain I do any more, that’s a fact. For too ... too long now I’ve thought that if I could find the bitch I’d wring her neck for her, and now that I’m close to it, I’m not sure it would be worth the trouble.
’

  ‘Revenge is a destructive emotion, especially to the person seeking revenge,’ said Rena, then shuddered at how patronising it sounded, how pompous. And yet true. She no longer felt vengeful about Ran Logan, although she was sick at herself for establishing such a tangle of lies and deceit around their whole situation since he had come to Bundaberg.

  No, revenge was not the answer. At least not for her. Indeed there was no answer. Nothing now could save her from eventually having to admit her real identity to Ran, but without explaining the reasons for her deception. That she could never do ... how to explain her love for him, her feeling of betrayal, when his own experience was so vivid and so aggravated by his blindness?

  Her only hope was that he would complete his teaching assignment and return to Sydney without ever discovering her identity. That would be best; it could mean nothing to him anyway. And yet surely there must be something, some feeling on his part. Else why seek her advice? Why seek her company?

  ‘Betrayal is just as destructive to the one who’s on the receiving end,’ he replied. ‘You can’t argue that one, can you, Rena?’

  ‘No, I can’t,’ she admitted. ‘But as you seem intent on telling me, sometimes, you’re young; your whole life is ahead of you. Why fill it with bitterness? Why not just forget the past and look ahead?’

  ‘Look ahead? Look ahead?’ His voice dropped so low she could barely hear him, but the venom in his words was coarse as the ocean spray. ‘By God, but you’ve got an interesting way with words. And tell me, darling Rena, just what am I to look ahead with? What am I to look ahead to?’

  His eyes blazed when he flung off the sunglasses to reveal them, but it was a lifeless fire, without direction or focus.

  Still, it was a relief to Rena when he finally replaced the reflective glasses, hiding at least part of his bitter anger behind their mirrors. The rest, however, lived in his voice, in his every gesture.

  ‘Look ahead ...’ he whispered. His hand went out to fumble towards hers, and unthinking, she reached out to him, put her fingers in the hardness of his grasp. Then, without warning, she was in his arms, crushed against him as his mouth sought her lips.