In the weeks that followed, gossip filtered to me at Soysambu from all over the colony. Apparently my exposure at the St. Leger had set tongues wagging about Boy again. Jock had got wind of it and figured he’d had enough. The details of my marriage were all common knowledge now. Maybe they always had been—but thankfully I didn’t hear a whisper about my night with Denys. Somehow that secret was safely tucked away even if nothing else was.
D stayed in town, mending, while Boy was preparing to up sticks. He’d left his job at the ranch and booked a passage to England.
“I’m finally going to marry my girl in Dorking,” he said, throwing bits of pirate-bright clothing into his duffel bag. “I feel a bit strange leaving you in the lurch.”
“It’s all right,” I told him. “I see why you’d want to go.”
Though he didn’t look up from his duffel, I saw how he struggled with his pride. “If you ever need anything, I hope you’ll search me out.”
“In Dorking?” I looked at him sceptically.
“Why not? We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“We are,” I said, and kissed him on the cheek.
—
After Boy had gone, my conscience continued to prickle and sting, keeping me awake at night. I had always told myself that leaving Jock and running around with Boy wasn’t any worse than what anyone else did in the colony. But at Soysambu, there were now rumours among the ranch hands that Jock had threatened to shoot Boy if he ever saw him in town. That’s why he’d run to Dorking.
I felt alone and overwhelmed and dearly wished my father were nearby. I needed the anchor of his presence and also his advice. Should I try to ignore the gossip, or was there something I could do to help it all blow over? And how would I begin to deal with Jock, when he’d become such a loose and desperate cannon?
When D came home, he was incredibly fragile and shaken. He would be in bed a full six months while he recovered.
“I feel terrible for what Jock did,” I told him while the nurse settled his bedclothes and changed his bandages. I’d said it dozens of times, but couldn’t seem to stop.
“I know.” D had a plaster on one arm up to the shoulder. His neck was in a stiff brace. “The thing is, the community is protective of me. More than I am of myself.”
“What do you mean?”
He asked the nurse to leave us for a moment and then said, “I’ve tried to keep your name out of it, but when the colony chooses to feel scandalized, it doesn’t let up.”
I felt a rippling of humiliation and also outrage, the two feelings twisted up in each other. “I don’t care what anyone thinks of me,” I lied.
“I don’t have that luxury.” He lowered his eyes to his hands on the neatly folded sheets. “I think you should stay away from the races for a while.”
“And do what? Work is the only thing I have.”
“People will forget eventually, but it’s fresh now. They want your head on a stake.”
“Why not Jock’s head? He’s the one who’s gone mad.”
He shrugged. “We’re all very liberal until something shines a light on us. Somehow everyone understands a husband’s jealous raging more than a wife’s…indiscretions. It’s not fair, but what is?”
“You’re firing me then.”
“I think of you as a daughter, Beryl. You’ll always have a place here.”
I swallowed hard. My mouth was dry as chalk. “I don’t blame you, D. It’s what I deserve.”
“Who knows what anyone deserves? We like to play judge and jury, but we’re all a rotten mess under our skins.” He reached for my arm and patted it. “Come back when the fire dies down. And take good care of yourself.”
Scalding tears threatened, but I fought them back. I nodded and thanked him, and then walked out of his room on shaky legs.
—
I didn’t know where to go. My mother and Dickie were out of the question. Cockie was away in London visiting family. Berkeley was too worried about me, too perceptive, and I would never go to Karen now. I had betrayed her—that was the only way to see it—and if I still liked and admired her, no matter what I felt for Denys, well, that was a puzzle for me to work out on my own. In any case, I’d probably already lost her respect—and Denys’s, too.
It was painful how much respect seemed to matter now that my life was under glass. It reminded me of Green Hills and the scandal around my father’s bankruptcy. He had a tougher skin than I had, and the gossip hadn’t really seemed to touch him. I wished again, fiercely, that he were here to guide me now. I felt shaken to the core, right down to my bones. All I could think of was getting away from the colony as quickly as possible, away from prying eyes and wagging tongues. Even Cape Town wasn’t far enough. But what place was? I thought and thought, turning the problem over and turning out my pockets. I had about sixty pounds all told, almost nothing. How much would nothing get me? Just how far could I go?