sidney sheldon - Master of the Game

"Is it going to be a boy?" Margaret gasped.

Hannah mopped Margaret's brow with a damp cloth. "I'll let you know as soon as I check out the plumbin'. Now press down. Real hard! Hard! Harder!"

The contractions began to come closer together and the pain tore through Margaret's body. Oh, my God, something's wrong, Margaret thought.

"Bear down!" Hannah said. And suddenly there was a note of

alarm in her voice. "It's twisted around," she cried. "I—I can't get it out!"

Through a red mist, Margaret saw Hannah bend down and twist her body, and the room began to fade out, and suddenly there was no more pain. She was floating in space and there was a bright light at the end of a tunnel and someone was beckoning to her, and it was Jamie. I'm here, Maggie, darling. You're going to give me a fine son. He had come back to her. She no longer hated him. She knew then she had never hated him. She heard a voice saying, "It's almost over," and there was a tearing inside her, and the pain made her scream aloud.

"Now!" Hannah said. "It's coming."

And a second later, Margaret felt a wet rush between her legs and there was a triumphant cry from Hannah. She held up a red bundle and said, "Welcome to Klipdrift. Honey, you got yourself a son."

She named him Jamie.

Margaret knew the news about the baby would reach Jamie quickly, and she waited for him to call on her or send for her. When several weeks had passed and Margaret had not heard anything, she sent a message to him. The messenger returned thirty minutes later.

Margaret was in a fever of impatience. "Did you see Mr. McGregor?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And you gave him the message?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What did he say?" she demanded.

The boy was embarrassed. "He—he said he has no son, Miss van der Merwe."

She locked herself and her baby in her room all that day and all that night and refused to come out. "Your father's upset just now, Jamie. He thinks your mother did something bad to him. But you're his son, and when he sees you, he's going to take us to live in his house and he's going to love both of us very much. You'll see, darling. Everything is going to be fine."

In the morning when Mrs. Owens knocked on the door, Margaret opened it. She seemed strangely calm.

"Are you all right, Maggie?"

"I'm fine, thank you." She was dressing Jamie in one of his new outfits. 'I'm going to take Jamie out in his carriage this morning."

The carriage, from Madam Agnes and her girls, was a thing of beauty. It was made of the finest grade of reed, with a strong cane bottom and solid, bentwood handles. It was upholstered in imported brocade, with piped rolls of silk plush, and it had a parasol hooked on at the back, with a deep ruffle.

Margaret pushed the baby carriage down the narrow sidewalks of Loop Street. An occasional stranger stopped to smile at the baby, but the women of the town averted their eyes or crossed to the other side of the street to avoid Margaret.

Margaret did not even notice. She was looking for one person. Every day that the weather was fine, Margaret dressed the baby in one of his beautiful outfits and took him out in the baby carriage. At the end of a week, when Margaret had not once encountered Jamie on the streets, she realized he was deliberately avoiding her. Well, if he won't come to see his son, his son will go to see him, Margaret decided.

The following morning, Margaret found Mrs. Owens in the parlor. "I'm taking a little trip, Mrs. Owens. I'll be back in a week."

"The baby's too young to travel, Maggie. He—"

"The baby will be staying in town."

Mrs. Owens frowned. "You mean here?'

"No, Mrs. Owens. Not here."

Jamie McGregor had built his house on a kopje, one of the hills overlooking Klipdrift. It was a low, steep-roofed bungalow with two large wings attached to the main building by wide verandas. The house was surrounded by green lawns studded with trees and a lush rose garden. In back was the carriage house and separate quarters for the servants. The domestic arrangements

were in the charge of Eugenia Talley, a formidable middle-aged widow with six grown children in England.

Margaret arrived at the house with her infant son in her arms at ten in the morning, when she knew Jamie would be at his office. Mrs. Talley opened the door and stared in surprise at Margaret and the baby. As did everyone else within a radius of a hundred miles, Mrs. Talley knew who they were.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. McGregor is not at home," the housekeeper said, and started to close the door.

Margaret stopped her. "I didn't come to see Mr. McGregor. I brought him his son."

"I'm afraid I don't know anything about that. You—"

"I'll be gone for one week. I'll return for him then." She held the baby out. "His name is Jamie."

A horrified look came over Mrs. Taney's face. "You can't leave him here! Why, Mr. McGregor would—"

"You have a choice," Margaret informed her. "You can either take him in the house or have me leave him here on your doorstep. Mr. McGregor wouldn't like that either."

Without another word, she thrust the baby into the arms of the housekeeper and walked away.

"Wait! You can't—! Come back here! Miss—!"

Margaret never turned around. Mrs. Talley stood there, holding the tiny bundle and thinking, Oh, my God! Mr. McGregor is going to be furious!

She had never seen him in such a state. "How could you have been so stupidV he yelled. "All you had to do was slam the door in her face!"

"She didn't give me a chance, Mr. McGregor. She—"

"I will not have her child in my house!"

In his agitation he paced up and down, pausing to stop in front of the hapless housekeeper from time to time. "I should fire you for this."

"She's coming back to pick him up in a week. I—"

"I don't care when she's coming back," Jamie shouted. "Get that child out of here. Now! Get rid of it!"

"How do you suggest I do that, Mr. McGregor?" she asked stiffly.

"Drop it off in town. There must be someplace you can leave it." "Where?"

"How the devil do I know!"

Mrs. Talley looked at the tiny bundle she was holding in her arms. The shouting had started the baby crying. "There are no orphanages in Klipdrift." She began to rock the baby in her arms, but the screams grew louder. "Someone has to take care of him."

Jamie ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Damn! All right," he decided. "You're the one who so generously took the baby. You take care of him." "Yes, sir."

"And stop that unbearable wailing. Understand something, Mrs. Talley. I want it kept out of my sight. I don't want to know it's in this house. And when its mother picks it up next week, I don't want to see her. Is that clear?" The baby started up with renewed vigor. "Perfectly, Mr. McGregor." And Mrs. Talley hurried from the room.

Jamie McGregor sat alone in his den sipping a brandy and smoking a cigar. The stupid woman. The sight of her baby is supposed to melt my heart, make me go rushing to her and say, "I love you. I love the baby. I want to marry you." Well, he had not even bothered looking at the infant. It had nothing to do with him. He had not sired it out of love, or even lust. It had been sired out of vengeance. He would forever remember the look on Salomon van der Merwe's face when he had told him Margaret was pregnant. That was the beginning. The end was the dirt being thrown onto the wooden coffin. He must find Banda and let him know their mission was finished.

Jamie felt an emptiness. I need to set new goals, he thought. He was already wealthy beyond belief. He had acquired hundreds of acres of mineral land. He had bought it for the dia-

monds that might be found there, and had ended up owning gold, platinum and half a dozen other rare minerals. His bank held mortgages on half the properties in Klipdrift, and his land-holdings extended from the Namib to Cape Town. He felt a satisfaction in this, but it was not enough. He had asked his parents to come and join him, but they did not want to leave Scotland. His brothers and sister had married. Jamie sent large sums of money back to bis parents, and that gave him pleasure, but his life was at a plateau. A few years earlier it had consisted of exciting highs and lows. He had felt alive. He was alive when he and Banda sailed their raft through the reefs of the Sperrgebiet. He was alive crawling over the land mines through the desert sand. It seemed to Jamie that he had not been alive in a long time. He did not admit to himself that he was lonely.