The Brit and Aussie soldiers had indeed not forgotten their invitation of the afternoon. They led the three Americans around and introduced them, but Flap was the only surefire hit with the ladies. Soon he had all five of the women gathered around him.
“The Aussies aren’t used to black men wearing pants,” the Real whispered to Jake. “Those stews will get over the novelty in a while and we’ll get a chance to cut a couple out.”
Jake wasn’t so sure. The soldiers seemed to be eyeing the crowd around Flap with a faint trace of dismay. Nothing obvious, of course, but Jake thought he could see it.
“Hey, mate. How about a beer?” The Australian who asked held out a couple of cold bottles of Fosters.
“Thanks. Real hard duty you guys got here.”
“Beats the outback. Beats that scummy little war you Yanks gave in the Nam, too. Saigon was a bit of all right but the rest of it wasn’t so cheery. This is mighty sweet after that busman’s holiday, I can tell you.”
“It was the only war we had,” the Real explained, then poured beer down his throat. Jake Grafton did the same.
Two beers later Jake Grafton was sitting at a table in the corner listening to Vietnam War stories from a couple of the Aussies when one of the stews came over to join them. “Mind if I join you chaps?”
“Not at all, not at all. Brighten up the party. How long are you in for this time, Nell?”
“Off to Brisbane and Sydney tomorrow. Then back here via Tokyo the following day.” Nell winked at Jake. “Girl has to keep herself busy now, doesn’t she?”
Grafton nodded and grinned. Nell returned it. She was a little above medium height, with fair hair and a dynamite tan. Several gold bracelets encircled each of her wrists and made tiny tinkly noises when she moved her arms.
“My name’s Jake,” he told her.
“Nell Douglas,” she said and stuck out her hand. Jake shook it. Cool and firm. And then he looked around and realized the Aussies had drifted and he and Nell were alone.
“So what do you do for the Yanks?”
“I’m a pilot.”
“Oh, God! Not another one. I’ve sworn off pilots for at least three months.” She smiled again. He liked the way her eyes smiled when she did.
“Better tell me about it. Nothing like a sympathetic listener to ease a broken heart.”
“You don’t look like the sympathetic type.”
“Don’t be fooled by appearances. I’m sensitive, sympathetic, charming, warm, witty, wonderful.” He shrugged. “Well, part of that’s true, anyway. I’m warm.”
Now her whole face lit up. Her bracelets tinkled.
“How long have you been flying with Quantas?”
“Five years. My father has a station in Queensland. One day I said to myself, Nell old girl, if you stay here very much longer one of these jackeroos will drag you to the altar and you’ll never see any more of the world than you’ve seen already, which wasn’t very much, I can tell you. So I applied to Quantas. And here I am, flying around the globe with my little stew bag and makeup kit, serving whiskey to Japanese businessmen, slapping pilots, giving lonely soldiers the hots, and wondering if I’m ever going back to Queensland.”
“What’s a jackeroo?”
“You Yanks call them cowboys.”
This could be something nice, Jake thought, looking at the marvelous, open, tanned female face and feeling himself warmed by her glow. There are a lot of pebbles on the beach and some of them are nuggets, like this one.
“So a station’s a ranch?”
“Yes. Sheep and cattle.”
“I was raised on a farm myself. Dad ran a few steers, but mainly he raised corn.”
“Ever going back?” Nell asked.
“I dunno. Never say never. I might.”
She told him about the station in Queensland, about living so far from anything that the world outside seemed a fantasy, a shimmering legend amid the heat and dust and thunderstorms. As she talked he glanced past the lanterns into the darkness beyond, at that place where the mown grass and the velvet blackness met. The night was out there as usual, but here, at least, there was light.
An hour or so later someone turned on the radio and several of the women wanted to dance. To Jake’s surprise Flap “Go Ugly Early” Le Beau proved good at dancing, slow or fast, so good that he did only what his partner could do. You had to watch him with three or four of the sheilas before you realized that he sensed their skill level almost instantaneously and asked of them only what they had to give. Nell pointed that out to Jake, who saw it then. She danced a fast number with Flap — she was very good — as the Aussies and Brits watched appreciatively. They applauded when the number ended.
Nell rejoined Jake and led him out onto the floor for the next slow number. “I don’t dance very well,” he told her.
“That’s not the point,” she said, and settled in against him to the beat of the languid music.
It was then that Jake Grafton realized he was in over his head. The supple body of the woman against his chest, the caress of her hair on his cheek, the faint scent of a cologne he didn’t recognize, the touch of her hands against his — all this was having a profound effect and he wasn’t ready.
“Relax,” she whispered.
He couldn’t.
The memory of his morning in bed with Callie four months ago came flooding back. He could see the sun coming through the windows, feel the clean sheets and the sensuous touch of her skin…
“You’re stiff as a board.”
“Not quite.”
“Oops. Didn’t mean it quite that way, love.”
“I’m not a very good dancer.”
She moved away a foot or so and looked searchingly into his face. “You’re not a very good liar either.”
“I’m working on it.”
She led him by the hand through the crowd and out of the pavilion into the darkness. “Why is it all the good ones come with complications?”
“At our age virgins are hard to find,” Jake told her.
“I quit looking for virgins years and years ago. I just want a man who isn’t too scarred up.”
She led him to a wall and hopped up on it. “Okay, love. Tell Ol’ Nell all about it.”
Jake Grafton grinned. “How is it that a fine woman like you isn’t married?”
“You want the truth?”
“If you feel like it.”
“Well, the truth is that I didn’t want the ones who proposed and the ones I wanted didn’t propose. Propose marriage, that is. They had a lot of things in mind but a trek to the altar wasn’t on the list.”
“That’s sounds like truth.”
“It is that, Ducky.”
The music floating across the lawn was muted but clearly audible. And she was right there, sitting on the wall. Instinctively he moved closer and she put an arm around his shoulder. Their heads came together.
Before very long they were kissing. She had good, firm lips, a lot like Callie’s. Of course Callie was…
His heart was thudding like a drum when they finally parted for air. After a few deep breaths, he said, “There’s another woman.”
“Amazing.”
“I’m not married or anything like that. And I haven’t asked her to marry me, but I wanted to.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I think she gave up on me. Hasn’t written in a couple months.”
“You like your women dumb, then?” she asked softly, and put her lips back on his.
Somehow she was off the wall and they were entwined in each other’s arms, their bodies pressed together. When their lips parted this time, a ragged breath escaped her. “Whew and double whew. You Yanks! Sex-starved maniacs, that’s what you are.”
She eased away from him. “Well, that was my good deed for today. I’ve given another rejected, love-starved pilot hope for a brighter future. Now I think it’s time for this sheila to trek off to her lonely little bed. Must fly tomorrow, you know.”