For a moment he didn't believe her, then he looked at her face more closely and saw she meant it, all right. "Why?" he asked. "I told you what would happen if you didn't take me to Sydney," she said. His astonishment was absolutely genuine. "But, Meg! That's flaming eighteen months ago! And I gave you a holiday! Four bloody expensive weeks on the Atherton! I couldn't afford to take you to Sydney on top of that!" "You've been to Sydney twice since then, both times without me," she said stubbornly. "I can understand the first time, since I was expecting Justine, but heaven knows I could have done with a holiday away from The Wet this last January."
"Oh, Christ!"
"What a skinflint you are, Luke," she went on gently. "Twenty thousand pounds you've had from me, money that's rightfully mine, and yet you begrudge the few measly pounds it would have cost you to take me to Sydney. You and your money! You make me sick."
"I haven't touched it," he said feebly. "It's there, every penny of it, and more besides."
"Yes, that's right. Sitting in the bank, where it always will. You haven't any intention of spending it, have you? You want to adore it, like a golden calf. Admit it, Luke, you're a miser. And what an unforgivable idiot you are into the bargain! To treat your wife and daughter the way you wouldn't dream of treating a pair of dogs, to ignore their existences, let alone their needs! You complacent, conceited, self-centered bastard!" White-faced, trembling, he searched for speech; to have Meg turn on him, especially after the night, was like being bitten to death by a butterfly. The injustice of her accusations appalled him, but there didn't seem to be any way he could make her understand the purity of his motives. Womanlike, she saw only the obvious; she just couldn't appreciate the grand design at back of it all.
So he said, "Oh, Meg!" in tones of bewilderment, despair, resignation. "I've never ill-treated you," he added. "No, I definitely haven't! There's no one could say I was cruel to you. No one! You've had enough to eat, a roof over your head, you've been warm-was "Oh, yes," she interrupted.. "That's one thing I'll grant you. I've never been warmer in my life." She shook her head, laughed. "What's the use? It's like talking to a brick wall."
"I might say the same!"
"By all means do," said Meggie icily, getting off the bed and slipping on her panties. "I'm not going to divorce you," she said. "I don't want to marry again. If you want a divorce, you know where to find me. Technically speaking, I'm the one at fault, aren't I? I'm deserting you-or at least that's the way the courts in this country will see it. You and the judge can cry on each other's shoulders about the perfidies and ingratitude of women."
"I never deserted you," he maintained.
"You can keep my twenty thousand pounds, Luke. But not another penny do you ever get from me. My future income I'm going to use to support Justine, and perhaps another child if I'm lucky."
"So that's it!" he said. "All you were after was another bloody baby, wasn't it? That's why you came down here-a swan song, a little present from me for you to take back to Drogheda with you! Another bloody baby, not me! It never was me, was it? To you I'm just a breeder! Christ, what a have!" "That's all most men are to most women," she said maliciously. "You bring out the worst in me, Luke, in more ways than you'll ever understand. Be of good cheer! I've earned you more money in the last three and a half years than the sugar has. If there is another child, it's none of your concern. As of this minute I never want to see you again, not as long as I live." She was into her clothes. As she picked up her handbag and the little case by the door she turned back, her hand on the knob. "Let me give you a little word of advice, Luke. In case you ever get yourself another woman, when you're too old and too tired to give yourself to the cane any more. You can't kiss for toffee. You open your mouth too wide, you swallow a woman whole like a python. Saliva's fine, but not a deluge of it." She wiped her hand viciously across her mouth. "You make me want to be sick! Luke O'neill, the great I-am! You're a nothing!" After she had gone he sat on the edge of the bed staring at the closed door for a long while. Then he shrugged and started to dress. Not a long procedure, in North Queensland. Just a pair of shorts. If he hurried he could get a ride back to the barracks with Arne and the blokes. Good old Arne. Dear old mate. A man was a fool. Sex was one thing, but a man's mates were quite another.
