by John Kelly
*
Later, the same day, as Warwick and Susan Steedman walked away from the hospital on that balmy March afternoon, Warwick pondered the information his sister Andrea had earlier revealed to him. He knew the longer he delayed telling the family all that Andrea had revealed to him, the more compromising would be his own position. He knew that to withhold such information, would certainly leave him exposed at some later stage. As executor of Andrea's estate he had to be transparent, and be seen as such. He knew the news would shock them. How would he go about telling them that Andrea had a daughter who was to be included in the list of beneficiaries? Was his mother Elsie aware? Were there others that knew? How would he tell them? This was his dilemma.
Returning home along the Eastern Freeway, Warwick and Susan crossed the Yarra River as it snaked its way around Fairfield Park. They passed the Royal Talbot Rehabilitation centre on the left with its grim reminders of the resultant injuries sustained by road traumas. Above them on the right, was Elm Tree Cottages. Further along, Kew Residential Services, nestled on top of the hill. The two properties spread across a huge expanse of prime acreage. Elm Tree Cottages was a separate facility from Kew Residential Services, but like Kew, it was for years the envy of property developers across the city, eager to access the commanding 'view to kill for' vista that image conscious buyers drool over.
As Warwick and Susan Steedman drove along the busy freeway, inside Elm Tree Cottages, Maria Stewart was preparing to journey home after her ten-hour shift at Unit 49, when the phone rang. She replaced a file in her cabinet and took the call. On the other end of the line, was Nurse Veronica Paul, calling from the Royal Women's Hospital. It was the call Maria was dreading, but knew was coming. Maria Stewart listened as Veronica gave her the news. "I'm so terribly sorry Maria. Andrea passed away an hour ago. I wanted to call you sooner, but the whole family was here and I didn't think that would be wise." As Maria absorbed the news she took a deep breath and sat down in silence. She had been expecting a call virtually at anytime, after spending the previous evening at Andrea's bedside. Doctor Hickey had indicated to her that it was unlikely Andrea would survive the next twenty-four hours. Maria stayed until late in the evening, knowing that in all probability, this would be the last time she would see Andrea alive. She rested her head in her hand, saddened but relieved that it was over.
"Were you able to speak with her today?" Maria asked. "Just to say hello, nothing else. We were very busy all day." Veronica answered. "Thank you Veronica," she said gratefully. "I really appreciate all the help you have been these last few weeks. How was Elsie?" she asked. "Better than I expected, all things considered," Nurse Paul replied. There was a long silence as the news sank in. "Okay, well, I'm just leaving work now. I'll call Elsie when I get home," Maria said.
"But Andrea is your sister," Veronica protested. "This isn't right. You should have been here. Do you want me to come over tonight? I'm not on duty, we could talk." Veronica asked. "No, that won't be necessary. I'll talk with Elsie. I don't want to see the others. I'll have to call Michelle and tell her. She'll come over. We can console each other." Maria said. "Well, let me know if there's anything I can do," Veronica said. "I will," Maria replied. She slowly replaced the receiver, and sat in silence for a few moments, reflecting. Elsie's earlier suspicions about Maria and Andrea had been vindicated. Maria was five years older and information about their parents was vague, but adoption information and DNA tests had confirmed that they were related. They were sisters. Well, almost. They shared the same mother, but not the same father. That unfortunate fact only served to detach Andrea further. What should have been a joyous discovery, an epiphany, left her distressed. The thought of a mother of questionable moral standing, stood in sharp contrast to Elsie, the mother she had known her whole life. Andrea did not receive the information with great excitement. She and Maria did not bond strongly although they became friendly and maintained contact. Andrea preferred it that way, at first, not wanting Maria to be too close. But then Andrea found Michelle and matters changed.
Collecting her things together, Maria gave a few last minute instructions to the afternoon duty supervisor and made her way to the car park. It was just after five in the evening and the east bound traffic travelling downhill toward the freeway entrance was banking up. Maria reached the exit from Elm Tree Cottages and seeing the likely delay chose to take the suburban arterial route home instead. Surviving the roundabout roulette, where the exit from Elm Tree Cottages merged with Princess Street, she made her way along Willsmere Road in her 1995 green Ford Laser. She soon found herself cruising comfortably along Belmore Road, and her mind drifted back to the news she had just received, such that she did not notice her speed creep above the limit of sixty kilometres per hour. By the time the flash of light from the speed camera went off in front of her, she had allowed the car to drift up to seventy kilometres per hour, and no time to adjust. "Damn!" she said, in full knowledge that her lack of concentration had just cost her one hundred and thirty five dollars. "Damn!" she said again, realizing that had she taken the freeway option she could have sat comfortably on one hundred kilometres per hour, and arrived home financially much better off. "Damn!"
Meanwhile Warwick and Susan Steedman continued their journey along the freeway. Further ahead, the police had set up a Booze Bus inspection point, and the traffic had slowed considerably. Warwick eased up on the accelerator and relaxed a little.
"There's going to be some problems with Margaret and Robert," Warwick said breaking the silence.
"What sort of problems?" Susan asked.
"Money problems," he replied.
"What do you mean?" she said sniffing and clearing her throat.
"Andrea has appointed me joint executor with a firm of trustees, Sinner, Brady and Capper. The terms of the will are complicated and will need ongoing management. Margaret and Robert are not going to like it."
"How do you know that Andrea has appointed you executor?"
"She told me earlier, when we had a private chat, before all of you arrived."
"What did Andrea decide to do with her money?" Susan enquired.
"She's been generous with everyone, but a little cunning too. It will have to be managed by the firm of trustees."
"How much is there?"
"I'm not sure of the exact amount. It will depend on property valuations, but it's close to three million. But that's not the main problem unfortunately," he answered.
"What else is there?" Susan enquired. Warwick hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to go on. In the end, he felt he had to tell someone, something of his conversation with Andrea, and who better than his own wife.
"Andrea has told me she has a daughter," he said, biting his lip as he did so.
"What?" Susan said disbelievingly.
"She was put up for adoption when she was four months old. Andrea wants me to find her. She's in her early twenties."
"You're kidding me?" Susan said incredulously. "Andrea has a daughter, and no one in the family knew?"
"No," Warwick answered.
"Not even Elsie? Surely Elsie knew?" she asked.
"It appears not," Warwick said. "I don't know how mother will react when I tell her," he said.
"Are you sure that she knew what she was saying?" Susan asked.
"She certainly left no doubt in my mind," Warwick answered.
"Did she explain the circumstances, who the father is and all that?"
"She didn't say anything about the father. I didn't want to go into that. I felt it was better to let her tell me what she wanted to, and not press her too hard. She's given me some information. I'm not sure yet how to go about finding her," Warwick answered.
"Did she say where she thought she might be?" Susan pressed.
"She gave me the name of the adoption agency in Brisbane. I'm thinking I might ask Brad Murphy to make some initial enquiries for me."
Maria Stewart was now approaching the intersection of Elgar Road and Doncaster Road from the sou
th. After the delay caused by the Booze Bus, Warwick and Susan Steedman in their red convertible Saab had taken the Doncaster Road exit from the freeway and were heading up the hill toward the same intersection approaching from the west. Maria, her mind replete with the news of Andrea's death and the events of her day at Elm Tree Cottages, and now compounded by the intrusive and unfair nature of the speed camera and its resultant cost, slowed down as she noticed the lights ahead were red.
As Warwick Steedman accelerated up the hill, he glanced at the fuel indicator on the dashboard and considered pulling into the service station on the left to fill up with premium super. Noticing however that the traffic lights two hundred metres ahead were green, he chose to continue and accelerated harder to make sure he reached the Shoppingtown intersection in time to cross through safely.
"Careful darling you are going a bit too fast," Susan said as she felt the sudden surge in power.
At the same time as Warwick Steedman accelerated east up the hill, Julian Knowles was approaching from the western side of the intersection, driving his yellow ford falcon taxi down the hill. Julian's day was nearing an end having returned Myra Applewood safely home from art class. He had completed his afternoon run to Elm Tree Cottages, and only minutes earlier, picked up his last fare for the day. His fare, a businessman from Sydney, was travelling home and keen to get to the airport as soon as possible. The shortest route to the airport was along Williamson's Road, which meant turning right at the intersection at Shoppingtown. On learning from his passenger however that time was of the essence, Julian chose the freeway option and accelerated due west down the hill, every bit as keen as Warwick Steedman to insure safe passage through the green light. His passenger however, familiar with the journey, suddenly asked him to turn right at the intersection, just as Warwick Steedman's red Saab was passing through. At that moment, fifty metres away, the lights at Elgar Road turned green, and Maria Stewart turned into Doncaster Road.
It was perhaps five minutes or so later, that a call came through to Constable Beverley Ashton, still on duty at the Doncaster Police station, four kilometres to the east of the intersection.
"There's been an accident at Shoppingtown," the nervous faltering voice exclaimed.
"What kind of accident?" Constable Ashton asked.
11.