Free To Touch the Clouds : The Frontier Series 5 by Peter Watt Page B

time had run out for him. He was due to steam to Rabaul that afternoon. ‘Miss Schumann,’ he said, forgetting the slice of mango in his hand, ‘there is nothing more in this whole world I would like better than to spend time in your company. Is it possible that you are able to travel to Sydney in the future?’
    ‘My mother and I are planning to travel to Sydney this September for the spring season,’ Giselle replied. ‘We have many friends there and hope to attend the horse racing carnivals. My mother is a great lover of good horse fleshas my grandparents breed fine horses in Bavaria on their estate.’
    Alex felt his spirits soar. But September was at least half a year away, he despaired. A dark thought entered his mind. Giselle might develop a romantic attachment to one of the plantation owners’ sons that he had met the evening before. He remembered one young man, a fine and handsome planter, a widower, being very attentive towards Giselle. Alex had experienced pangs of jealousy even then. Dirk Keller – that was the man’s name. ‘What will you do between now and then?’ Alex asked, attempting to sound nonchalant despite his turbulent feelings.
    ‘Oh, amuse myself around my father’s property,’ Giselle answered. ‘I also attend to the medical needs of my father’s workers. I hope one day to study to be a doctor of medicine and hopefully qualify as a surgeon.’
    Alex was surprised at her revelation. He did not see Giselle as a nurse but when he examined her face he could see more than just physical beauty. There was also a gentleness in her eyes he had overlooked.
    ‘That sounds like a very honourable thing to do,’ he answered lamely. ‘Where would you study?’
    ‘Sydney University,’ she replied. ‘I am currently awaiting word on whether my application for admittance has been approved.’
    ‘Oh,’ Alex exclaimed, realising that if she were successful she would be living in Sydney for a long period completing her studies. ‘That would be grand.’
    ‘You have mango juice dripping into your lap, Mr Macintosh,’ Giselle said with a broad smile, causing Alex to blush and glance down. ‘I am afraid that I am not yet a doctor,’ Giselle said with a smirk, ‘so it would be inappropriate for me to wipe away the juice from that part of your anatomy.’
    Alex glanced up and broke into a laugh. Giselle was certainly a young lady with more sides to her than he had already seen in the days that they had shared company and conversation. It had been a wonderful time of horseback rides to the edges of the jungle, reserved chatter and evenings spent on the verandah joining in the late afternoon drinks as the sun set. At no time had Giselle intimated any interest in him until this moment when they were alone in the dining room and he was about to steam away. But at least he had hope and was already scheming to see her before September. He knew his plans would mean a confrontation with his older brother but he did not care. After all, what could George do to him?
    The day went too quickly for Alex. It was spent away from Giselle supervising the transfer of the copra bags down to the beach and onto the ferry boats of the Macintosh coastal trader. The little coal-burning ship lay at anchor a few hundred yards from the beach and was already building up steam for the voyage to Rabaul. Black smoke curled from her funnel and the derricks swung over the side to lift the heavy nets containing the white flesh of the coconuts that would eventually find itself compressed into oil for the market in Australia.
    When the loading was over, Giselle rode side-saddle down to the beach on a tough little pony. She wore a straw hat and long white skirt pinched in at the waist.
    ‘My father has sent his apologies for not being able to bid you a bon voyage personally,’ Giselle said, dismounting with easy grace to stand before Alex, sweating under the late afternoon sun. ‘We are having some trouble on the western border of