The Tillerman's Gift

by C J Brown

CHAPTER 27

  Later that night, after sitting for several hours with Mia, Alison and Tess returned to their hotel room to find an envelope pushed under their door.

  “It’s for you, Mum.”

  Tess opened the envelope and took out a note from Bertie and another envelope.

  Dear Tess,

  I’m sorry I missed you today. The manager told me about your granddaughter. You are all in my thoughts.

  It was lovely to catch up with you. I’m off to Brisbane again tomorrow and probably won’t be back for some time. I wish you all the best for the future.

  The letter enclosed was with the others I gave you. I must have missed it when I dropped them in my shop. I really hope it continues to give you some of the answers you seek.

  With affection,

  Bertie

  “So many letters,” sighed Tess.

  Alison filled the kettle. “You don’t have to read it tonight, Mum. You don’t have to read it all.”

  “Yes, it has been a most unusual day. It’s like a dream, really. All that property. What will I do with it.”

  “Well, for one thing, once the solicitor has established that it’s legally yours, you won’t have to work again. No more teaching.”

  “But I love teaching, Ali. I can’t imagine not going back to it. But let’s not put the cart before the horse. One step at a time.”

  Tess looked at the postmark on the letter. “Fudge promised that he wouldn’t write to me again. My father told him that I didn’t want to be harassed anymore. I wonder what prompted this last letter.” Tess put the envelope down as Alison placed two cups of steaming tea on the table. “Every nerve in my body is telling me to open it. But I’m sure whatever is inside it will keep me awake. And if I ever needed a good night’s sleep, it’s tonight.”

  Thursday July 11th

  Tess was usually an early riser but the next morning she slept until nine o’clock. She went onto the adjoining room to find that Alison had already left for the hospital. So over a cup of tea and a piece of toast, Tess read Charlie McFudgen’s final letter.

  June 1st 1972

  Dear Tess

  Getting off the plane back in Australia and seeing all the lads hugging their girlfriends and families really brought it home to me. When I didn’t hear from you after my last letter and you weren’t there on the tarmac I felt so very alone. Imagine that, surrounded by hundreds of people I felt like I was standing in a desert by myself with nothing but thousands of miles of sand in every direction. Then I did a most unusual thing – when I got back to the barracks I went to church. Me! The service had already started and one of the boys was up the front reading a prayer. It went something like this:

  Grant me serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can,

  And wisdom to know the difference.

  Tess, those words hit me like a hammer. I spoke to my commanding officer about staying on in the army. I wanted to return to Vietnam. He said all the forces were being withdrawn. Then he said he’d try to get approval to cancel the rest of my national service leaving me free to enlist in the regular army. So that’s what I’ve done. I’m back in Vietnam. There are some military training staff and Australian diplomatic staff staying here for the time being. The Australian Embassy in Saigon needed an all-rounder, someone who could perform some guard duties, knows how to fix stuff and speaks some of the local language. That’s me! Who would have thought I had a knack for languages? I picked Vietnamese up pretty quickly – you’d be proud.

  Tess, I don’t know what the future holds but I do know that I wish you every good thing under the sun. I still have the photo you sent over two years ago. I look at your beautiful face every day. In my heart I’ll always be with you – that’s a promise.

  Please remember me.

  Charlie ‘Fudge’ McFudgen

  Tess hurried along beach road towards Kim’s Kitchen. Just when Tess thought she would find no more answers this letter promised to finally give her closure. Doris Lowman was serious about selling the building; three different real estate agencies had their For Sale signs plastered all over it. Through the window Tess could see activity so she knocked loudly. Jimmy’s father, Kevin, opened the door. Some tradesmen were inside disconnecting appliances and removing equipment.

  “Oh, Miss Newell, if you’re looking for Kim she’s upstairs packing.”

  Tess climbed the stairs around the side of the building and walked through the open door to find packing cases scattered around the house. Kim was taking pictures off the wall.

  “We have to move,” said Kim sadly. “It’s no use trying to start again here.”

  “Kim, where will you go?”

  “Back to Melbourne. We have friends there and Kevin has family. We’ll find something.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tess apologised, “but can I ask you a question?”

  “A question? Sure. Sit down.”

  Tess sat on the edge of the couch and leaned intently towards Kim.

  “The Australian soldier, Cameron wasn’t it? Your mother’s friend at the embassy. Do you remember if he ever spoke about a soldier named Charles McFudgen, or even someone they called Fudge.”

  Kim frowned and shook her head. “Oh no, our friend’s name was Cam, but it wasn’t short for Cameron. You see, the first time cousin Van and I saw him we were spying on my mother. We knew she had a new friend, an Australian soldier, but she was shy about introducing us. So we followed her to the markets. We saw them holding hands. He was tall with orange hair and a sunburned face. Van laughed and said that said his head looked like a big cam, that’s Vietnamese for orange. I was young. I don’t remember his real name.”

  Kim smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, it was a long time ago. Please give me a moment.” Tess watched as Kim folded her hands on her lap and closed her eyes as if trying to see into the past. Her breathing was deep and even. Kim would frown slightly at times and then smile. Tess watched her, intrigued. After all she has been through, how could this woman still be so beautiful, so serene? A few minutes later Kim opened her eyes.

  “His real name was Charlie. But we couldn’t call him that. It was the name that our soldiers called the North Vietnamese soldiers. We were worried that if we called out one day, ‘There’s Charlie’, our soldiers would shoot him by mistake. So to be safe we always just called him Cam. He thought it was so funny. We were silly children with big imaginations.”

  Tess sat back in the couch. It seemed to take a physical effort to control her thoughts and to take in what Kim was saying. Is her Cam and my Charlie the same person? No, Charles was a common name, it was almost definitely someone else. There could easily have been another red-haired soldier of the same name working with the Australian Embassy ... couldn’t there?

  Kim herself could see the coincidence but had no real reason to look further for any possible connections in their stories. But Tess had one more question.

  “Kim, why did you move to Clowder Bay? It’s a long way from Melbourne. Why here?”

  “Oh, that’s simple.” Kim stood and walked over to the bookshelf. She took down a photo album and thoughtfully turned the pages. “Here,” she said, carefully removing an old, creased photo from the album and handing it to Tess. “When I reached the refugee centre in Hong Kong they asked me where I wanted to be sent for resettlement. I only knew Vietnam. I didn’t know the world outside. All I had was my photo of Sunshine and Laughter that had kept me alive. They passed it around and an Australian aid worker said she knew where it was. They placed me in the care of a family that was being sent to Australia and a few weeks later I landed in Melbourne. I was finally safe. I put the photo away and said to myself, One day, when I grow up, I will go there. I will find Cam and, without anger, I will ask him why he didn’t come back for us, why he didn’t save my mother like he promised…”

  Tess looked at the photo. Her own forty-year-younger face smiled back at her. She turned it over and read her own writing: All your fri
ends in Clowder Bay send their love, especially me.

  As Tess sat there crying Kim finally began to realise the importance of everything she had shared. It wasn’t just her story. It was part of Tess’s as well.

  “That’s you, isn’t it? I knew when I first saw you that night …” She couldn’t go on.

  “He didn’t abandon you, Kim,” Tess sobbed. “He died trying to get back to you.”

  Kim sat beside Tess and they held each other as they wept. Kim looked over to the white statue in the corner. “Your suffering is my suffering,” she said softly, “and your happiness is my happiness.”

  Eventually Kim composed herself and disappeared into the kitchen to soon return with tea and a small tray of fudge of various colours.

  “He must have loved your mother,” Tess said. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have tried to get back to her and to you. It’s just so shameful that the government promised to help the people who worked for them but then just left them to face the wrath of the North Vietnamese.”

  Tess sipped her tea and took a cube of orange fudge. How appropriate, she smiled to herself.

  Tess looked around at the packing cartons on the floor.

  “Kim, I’d like to help you.”

  “Oh, we can manage the packing. Some of the restaurant staff have already offered.”

  “No, Kim. I’d like to help save your business. Or rather, Cam and I would like to help.”

  “But your daughter already told me that you … what did she say? You are on a teacher’s salary.”

  Tess smiled and took her friend’s hand. “Kim, that was yesterday.”