Chapter 12

Janice's first instinct was to smile and nod, even as her heart was beating wildly against her sternum. "Morning," she said in a whisper.

As hoped, Alice took the cue, adopting a conspiratorial voice as she set her charcoal and paper aside. "Good morning."

Innocent brown eyes observed the possessive lover's clinch, and it occurred to Janice that Alice was either oblivious to the implications, or too tactful to make inquiries. She hoped it was a bit of both. She shifted slightly, taking care not to disturb Mel and inquired casually, "Been sitting there long?"

Alice shrugged. "Not very...twenty minutes. You both seemed so peaceful lying there...I didn't want to wake you."

Janice was pleasantly baffled. "You look exhausted...happy, but exhausted."

"Oh, but I had a great time." Alice moved quietly across the verandah to sit in the chair opposite Janice where she elaborated in an enthusiastic whisper, "The blackfellas roasted pig and yams, and we danced round this huge fire and Dinah and I stayed up talking almost the whole night."

Janice squinted into Alice's face. "Is that war paint?"

Alice made a tentative swipe at the dry circle of whitewash on her cheek. "Tribal totems, for Dinah's safe journey...it washes right off." She tilted her head and scanned the length of the glider. "Mel never lets me sleep in the glider overnight. Is it nice?"

Janice restrained her inclination to lie. "I've slept in sarcophagi more comfortable. Why don't you go inside and wash up? I'll dress and make you some kind of breakfast."

Alice stood. "It's already on the stove." One hand closed over the door handle. "I hope you like eggs and fried potatoes."

Janice's stomach growled audibly as a tantalizing aroma reached her nostrils. "Do I smell coffee?"

"Mr. Bonner gave me a quarter kilo of ground djumiya. It's what passes for coffee out here...strong enough to float an iron wedge, or so he said."

"Now there's a appetizing analogy," quipped Janice. "I tell you what: lemme wake Mel and we'll be in in a few minutes." Alice nodded and disappeared inside the house. Janice listened for the sound of retreating footsteps before waking her companion. "Me...ellll..." she coaxed in a sing song voice. A little more forcefully, she crooned, "Mel, darlin'..." which succeeded in soliciting a murmur and a sleepy smile from her lover. Janice felt the weight of one long leg drape itself across her own, shinnying up her bare thighs while fingers trickled provocatively over her ribcage. She groaned in frustration. Be strong, Janice. "Mel," she said, raising her voice. "Wake up, the sun is rising."

Mel's eyes fluttered open briefly, "Five minutes..."

"The house is on fire."

Mel simply murmured, "Mmm, tha's nice..." and snuggled closer.

Janice rolled her eyes, shook Mel's shoulder and said sharply, "Mel, wake up. Alice is home."

Mel sat up quickly in the close confines of the glider, causing it to pitch and rock precariously. "Janice Covington," she scolded, narrowing her eyes to slits. "That was cruel." Gathering the blanket around her, Mel extracted herself from Janice's arms and stood, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "You have a mean streak in you."

Left to shiver in the chill morning air, Janice replied, "I thought we established that fact last night." She launched herself from the glider and squinted through the screen door just as Alice disappeared into the kitchen. The aroma of strong coffee wafted through the house, battering down her defenses. She shivered and wheeled where she stood. "Mel, you know I love you, but I gotta say that the attempt to break this to you gently is running neck and neck with my desire for a cup of coffee."

Mel opened her mouth to respond, preparing some acid retort, and instead tasted seasoned potatoes on her tongue. "You're really not jokin'." She took two quick strides to Janice's side and then was very still for a moment, separating the ambient sounds of nature from the clamor of activity in the kitchen. "How much did she see?"

By way of response, Janice picked up the charcoal drawing, an accurate, if primitive rendering of the two lovers as observed by a third party. Shit. With some trepidation, she showed it to Mel. "What's that old saying? A picture's worth a thousand words?"

Mel's blue eyes went doe-eyed wide. "Oh my Jeezus..." she murmured.

"I dunno..." Janice regarded the drawing at an angle, as if considering a Picasso. "I think it's kinda sweet. Look there, she caught you perfectly."

Mel put her hands on her hips. "I am so glad you find all of this amusin', Janice. You can afford to after all...you're gonna get in that plane and take off, outta her life..." she hitched the blanket around her as it began to slip from her shoulders. "I, however, am committed to life under the same roof for just a while longer. What am I supposed to say to her?"

"Mel, relax." Janice put her hands on Mel's shoulders and steered her from the door. "I talked to her and -"

"You talked to her?" Mel was incredulous. "You talked to her over my sleepin' body?" she hissed. "Could you be any more casual?"

Janice clapped a hand across Mel's mouth and lowered her voice. "If you'd shut up for two seconds, I'm trying to say I talked to her and she seemed fine with everything. She's only 13 years old, Mel. She goes to a Catholic school, for Pete's sake." She peeled her hand away by degrees. "How much do you think she knows?"

"Plenty."

"I didn't know anything at 13, and I went to Catholic schools," Janice retorted.

"Hardly a ringin' endorsement." She stepped to the door and peeked in. After a moment of consideration, she said, "I should go talk to her...say somethin'."

Janice put her hand on the doorknob. "I agree, but you might want to dress first," she quipped. She opened the door and pushed Mel, by the small of the back, over the threshold. Hugging the periphery of the room, prepared to make a mad dash if necessary, the pair proceeded down the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief only when the bedroom door closed and locked behind them. "Piece of cake," Janice said as she slid a pair of trousers over her hips.

Mel stepped into her dressing gown, tying it tightly around her waist as she gave her full length reflection a disapproving glance in the mirror. She felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Janice's worried face. "I don't have a clue what to say to her."

Janice cupped Mel's face in her hand, a tender gesture as she imparted battlefield strategies. "Be honest, but brief. Answer direct questions, but don't volunteer any information."

There was a barely concealed glimmer of disapproval in Mel's eyes as she quipped, "Name, rank and serial number?"

Janice gave her a peck on the lips. "You catch on fast. No wonder I love you."

Mel laughed soundlessly and unlocked the bedroom door, turning back to look at Janice before leaving. "Any last advice?"

"Yeah," Janice replied sternly. "Smile. They can smell fear."