The Homestead on the River

by Rosie MacKenzie

  ‘Apart from what I’ve told you, I really don’t know.’

  ‘You reckon she’s got a screw loose?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What if she made up the whole thing?’

  ‘I know in my heart she hasn’t made it up. When I think back it all falls into place. The timing. Everything. Now that I think back to the first time Jessica introduced me to Dermot, it was obvious she was besotted by him. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. She even told him to contact her, that he knew where to find her. And when I started going out with him, she sort of changed her attitude to me. What she told me is definitely true. There’s no doubt about it. And that, Lorna, is why I’ve destroyed Ronan’s life. And Clara’s.’

  Lorna got up and went to the window and gazed out. When she turned back to Kathleen she said, ‘And what are you doing now, eh? Destroying your own life. And the lives of the rest of the family while you’re at it. Ronan and Clara are young. They’ll get over it in time. It’s you I’m more worried about. And James. Lillie and the younger boys, too. For their sakes you’ve got to pull yourself together.’ She sighed heavily and turned back to the window. ‘Look at those dancing daffodils and the wattle in full bloom. Spring is out there. Don’t be a bloody idiot and keep it waiting.’ She glanced towards the door. ‘I’m going out to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and a plate of sandwiches. When I come back we’ll talk some more. Then I want you up, showered and damn well dressed. After that we’re going for a walk down to the horses.’ Without waiting for Kathleen to answer she began to move. ‘I mean it, my friend. Up and dressed.’

  Kathleen wiped her eyes. Lorna was right. She could hide in this room for the rest of her life or she could get on with it. Although she didn’t agree with Lorna that Ronan and Clara would get over what had happened, she had to admit that time was a great healer. In a way it had healed her over the years.

  What had happened with Ronan and Clara couldn’t be erased. But it could be made worse by Kathleen behaving as she was. Besides, she wasn’t the only one hurting. James was finding it hard to focus on running the stud and Lillie was still furious and hadn’t been in to see her since that initial outburst. As yet they hadn’t told Marcus and Freddie what had happened. To them Ronan and Clara had just gone back to Armidale as they normally would.

  She stood, stepped over to her wardrobe and pulled out a pair of jeans and a white shirt. She went into the hallway and called out to Lorna, who she could hear rattling cups and plates in the kitchen. ‘I won’t be long in the shower.’

  ‘Good on you,’ Lorna called back. ‘Tea will be ready when you’ve finished.’

  As Kathleen stood under the scalding water a few minutes later, she was grateful for the true friend Lorna had proved to be. It took someone like her to point out how she was damaging the rest of the family by wallowing in self-pity.

  * * *

  When James picked up the mail at the front gate the following week, he recognised Ronan’s handwriting straightaway. He ripped the envelope open and started to read.

  Thought I’d let you know I’ve decided to join the Army and go to Vietnam, he wrote. James felt his eyes water as he read on.

  Apart from wanting to lose myself in oblivion — and I couldn’t give a damn whether I get shot to smithereens — I feel it’s a war that needs to be fought. Besides, as my father was such a hero in Vietnam I best go there and prove myself as well. Keep up the family tradition.

  He blamed everyone for what had happened: James, his grandmother and Finn Malone for keeping the secret of his birth from him. Most of all he blamed Dermot O’Sullivan, his mother and Jessica. He said that when he told Clara she was so freaked out that she’d taken off. And he’d no idea where she’d gone.

  You can all have that on your conscience as well. And Ma, I’m glad you had such a riotous time in Calcutta with James’s brother! Pity it had such tragic repercussions.

  What hurt James was that Ronan refused to refer to him as Dad. For some time he sat with the letter in his hand, working himself into a stew. No wonder Ronan said Clara was freaked out. Apart from anything else, James suspected she and Ronan had been sleeping together. To discover they were brother and sister would have traumatised them both. As it had traumatised James. He was still trying to come to terms with that on top of discovering Dermot was Clara’s father. Now to know his son was going to Vietnam. The same country that had claimed his father. Clara’s father. James’s brother. When he was really worked up he started the engine and drove back up to the homestead. Inside, he went to find Kathleen who was in the kitchen preparing dinner. While he’d tried to curtail his anger so far, Ronan’s letter had proved his breaking point. He almost threw the letter at Kathleen, even though it would probably set her back again when she had seemed to pull herself together after Lorna’s visit. Although they’d gone over and over what had happened in Calcutta, he was too angry to care.

  ‘Your son seems to think Calcutta was one huge brothel during the war,’ he seethed. ‘Again, I ask … How in God’s name were you so blind not to see that Jessica was playing around with Dermot before you? She was supposed to be your best friend, after all.’

  ‘And he was your brother.’

  ‘I wasn’t there, was I? You were.’

  And so it went on until James stormed out, got in the car and drove into Gullumbindy where he went to the bar of the Telegraph and ordered a strong whisky. He was glad the Hogans were nowhere to be seen. If Dermot hadn’t been killed in action, James felt he’d happily have killed him now. Surely he should have realised what the repercussions of his actions might be. James knew only too well that Kathleen had married him to give his brother’s son the O’Sullivan name and the right to his ancestral home, even though he was not the son of the heir. That was Marcus.

  It was Father Fogarty who suggested that James and Kathleen tell Marcus and Freddie separately what had happened with Ronan and Clara.

  After getting over the shock, Freddie’s main concern was that he mightn’t see Clara again, and he was worried about Ronan.

  ‘Even if he’s not your son, Dad, you do love him, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I do. As much as I love the rest of you.’

  ‘He must be really sad about Clara.’

  ‘Yes, he is,’ James said.

  ‘Will he come home soon?’ he asked Kathleen.

  ‘I hope so, darling,’ she said, putting her arm around him and kissing the top of his head. ‘I hope so.’

  When they told Marcus, he shook his head. ‘You’re telling me I’m actually your oldest son, Dad. I should’ve inherited Rathgarven if we still owned it?’

  ‘I’ll hear no more talk of that,’ James said. ‘As far as your mother and I and anyone else is concerned, Ronan’s still the eldest son.’

  ‘Oh, really.’

  ‘Yes. And now, young man,’ James sounded even crosser, ‘you can head down to the stables and help Arthur muck out the stalls.’

  As he sat on at the Telegraph, James was so angry he wondered if he shouldn’t tell Kathleen about Jessica blackmailing him. After another sip of whisky he decided no. Although he was angry with her, she had enough to contend with right now. Knowing, apart from everything else, that her son was going to fight in Vietnam. He regretted being so hard on her. Was it because it brought the whole matter of Dermot up again? And James was jealous. Jealous of the love his wife had shared with his brother; a love so strong that it would always imprison a part of Kathleen’s heart. In some ways it would be easier for James if Dermot were alive. It would be more of a fair fight. To Kathleen, Dermot would always be a dashing young hero. How could one fight the memory of a love like that?

  Knowing if he had one more drink he’d be unable to drive home, he made his way to his car. As he drove, he realised that despite knowing her passion for him was unlike the passion she’d had for Dermot, he was bloody lucky to have Kathleen by his side. Somehow they’d have to work out how to get through what had happened with Ronan together. If the
y didn’t, the whole family would be destroyed.

  * * *

  Lillie was still furious with her parents and had hardly spoken to Ma. She and Dad had barely spoken either, apart from him saying she shouldn’t be too hard on Ma.

  ‘It wasn’t really her fault that Jessica kept Clara’s father a secret.’

  Lillie was about to abuse him for the secret he, Ma and Grandma had kept for so long, but decided to shut up. The only one she felt she could talk to about what had happened was Deb. After all, she had her own family skeletons.

  ‘I don’t know how I can forgive my parents for keeping it all a secret,’ Lillie said to her. Deb now had her licence, so Lillie had asked her to meet her at the picnic ground by the creek at Gullumbindy. There she told her the whole sorry story — and how freaked out she was by the thought of Clara and Ronan sleeping together when they were brother and sister.

  ‘If Ma and Dad had told Ronan who his father was, none of this might have happened.’

  ‘Not necessarily. Not if Clara’s mother didn’t tell anyone who Clara’s father was. Anyway … your poor mum’s probably hurting a lot. If you keep giving her the cold shoulder it’ll only make matters worse for her. When I found out from Sandra about Mum and Dad I thought of giving them heaps. Then I asked myself what good would it do? It was all so long ago. The same with your parents. It’s just a pity Clara and Ronan had to fall in love like that.’

  ‘If only Clara had gone ahead and married Charles Fitzpatrick.’

  ‘Obviously her mother thought that as well. She was probably worried she’d fallen hook, line and sinker for Ronan.’

  ‘Maybe you’re right.’

  ‘Anyway … I reckon you should ease up on your mum. She’s a really nice person, Lillie.’

  Deb was right. It must have been such an awful time for her in India, more or less on her own. No wonder she was happy to marry Dad and be able to go to Rathgarven to live. That night Lillie lay awake for hours imagining Calcutta during the war when this awful saga had started. She remembered the picture of her mother in the sapphire-blue ball gown that used to hang in the hallway in Rathgarven, and tried to envisage her mother so in love that she had been oblivious to what might have happened with Clara’s mother and Uncle Dermot.

  The next day she decided to do what Deb said and be nice, not only to Ma, but Dad too. He must be hurting heaps as well, particularly at the thought of Ronan going to Vietnam. That scared the living daylights out of Lillie, so she could imagine how her parents felt.

  When she found her mother out in the garden weeding she plopped down on the grass beside her. ‘Tell me more about Calcutta, Ma. Where was that photo of you hanging in Rathgarven taken? The one of you in that sapphire-blue ball gown with the white orchid pinned over your breast. Where your hair’s pulled up in a sort of chignon. You’re standing next to a clematis vine in a lovely garden. Were you living with my grandparents?’

  ‘Oh, that one,’ Kathleen said, putting down her trowel and smiling. ‘No … it was quite a while after my parents were killed. It was taken in the gardens of the Maharani of Cooch Behar’s beautiful home in Calcutta, which she used when she visited from the palace in West Bengal. Before the war I used to work for her and had a small apartment in the grounds. I still lived there during the war.’

  Lillie gave her a warm smile. ‘You must’ve been so sad when your parents were killed.’

  Kathleen nodded. ‘They were in the wrong place at the wrong time.’ She paused. ‘I was up in Darjeeling with Garrison Headquarters and only found out two days after it happened.’ She smiled. ‘Jessica was working in the same branch. I have to say, no matter what’s happened since … she was marvellous to me then. As was the colonel in charge of Garrison Headquarters. A nice man, who we both found good to work for.’

  ‘Was it Uncle Dermot you were going out with that night in the photograph?’

  Kathleen’s eyes misted over. ‘We were going to a ball for servicemen at Government House. He’d come back from a combat mission into South Burma.’

  ‘I always thought it was a beautiful photo.’

  ‘When you think of the chaos going on outside those stone walls, it was so serene where it was taken in those glorious gardens.’

  ‘Surely you must’ve had some photos of Uncle Dermot?’

  Kathleen shook her head. ‘I didn’t need any photographs, apart from the one that hung at Rathgarven. I’ve always had his face etched so clearly in my mind.’

  ‘You still miss him very much, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kathleen said. ‘I do. But then again, it was all so long ago.’

  ‘Was it Uncle Dermot who the little Indian boy was laughing at in the photo in your exhibition?’

  Kathleen nodded. ‘Yes. He told me Sanjay had saved his life when he’d had an accident on his motorbike and a cobra had nearly bitten him. Sanjay had chased it away with a rock. That’s why they had such a special bond.’ She looked away. ‘I wonder what’s happened to Sanjay now.’

  ‘Maybe you and I should go to Calcutta one day. We might be able to find out.’

  Kathleen shook her head. ‘No. The past’s best left in the past.’

  ‘Tell me what he was like,’ Lillie probed. ‘Uncle Dermot, I mean. To me he was just Dad’s brother who’d been killed in combat and won a DFC.’

  Kathleen smiled. ‘He was a lot like Clara. Tall, blondish, with startling blue eyes. In fact, you’d never guess Ronan was his son. In looks Ronan’s taken after my side of the family. Yet he pushes his hair back on his forehead as Dermot did. He walks like him. Even sounds like him. When Ronan’s voice first broke, if he was in another room I’d swear it was Dermot come back from the dead who was talking. It gave me such a jolt. Even now his voice does that to me.’ Kathleen paused. ‘Well, it did… before he took off like that.’ She drew a deep breath and let it out again.

  ‘Dermot could play the guitar like Ronan does. When we went on picnics in India, he’d sing to me while he played. Although he was one of the best pilots in the RAF, he was incredibly gentle. He hated all that dreadful slaughter. Particularly dropping bombs when he thought they might kill civilians. We often talked about that. It was something that distressed him enormously.’

  Lillie smiled. ‘Gees, Ma he sounds almost too good to be true. Didn’t he have any faults at all?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Kathleen laughed. ‘He was a typical Irishman. Full of fun but also political angst. Even though he fought for the British, he never forgave them for what they’d done to Ireland over the years. And of course he was there as a small boy, like your father, when Rathgarven burnt down. He also drank and smoked far too much. Perhaps if he hadn’t died so young, it might’ve caught up with him. He was also quite reckless. On his motorbike. And in the air. But we were so young that all seemed rather glamorous.’

  Lillie lifted her hand to shoo a fly away. ‘Have you told Grandma about Clara? After all … she now has a new grandchild.’

  ‘Your father rang her a few days after we found out. I was worried the stress of it might kill her. But your father said we’d hidden enough secrets. No more.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘She was worried for Ronan. Not only for his heartbreak, but also that he and Clara might have got married and had children. And, of course, she was furious with Jessica for not telling anyone. She was also annoyed with Dermot.’

  Lillie nodded. ‘But, Ma … What about you and Dad?’

  Kathleen smiled. ‘It’s taking a bit of time to come to terms with what’s happened, that’s all.’

  Lillie reached for her mother’s hand, and as she clasped it, she felt tears fall onto her skin. She desperately hoped that Ronan would write home or ring soon. She hated to see her parents hurting, and she was really worried for him as well.

  CHAPTER

  43

  It was a lonely Christmas and New Year without Ronan at Eureka Park. In the New Year Lillie received her Leaving Certificate results in the mail. She didn’t break any re
cords, except in English literature, for which she got a distinction.

  ‘I can get into Sydney Uni on those marks,’ she told her parents as they all sat on the verandah in the late-afternoon light. ‘But first I want to go back to Ireland to see Grandma. So I’d like to head to Sydney and get a couple of jobs to pay for my fare.’

  She felt bad to be leaving them when they’d been through so much. But she really did want to go to Ireland. Somehow after all that had happened she was missing it more than ever. And Grandma.

  ‘We’ll miss you incredibly; however, I think that’s a great idea,’ Ma said.

  Lillie could see she was trying hard to be cheerful.

  ‘Yes,’ Dad said. ‘You’ve got to go spread your wings. I agree with Ma.’

  Lillie got up and gave each of them a kiss.

  ‘I’ll miss you both heaps, but at least you’ll have Marcus and Freddie about.’

  What she didn’t say was that she hoped she might be able to see Ronan when she was in Sydney. She had rung Dave, who was living at the same digs in Armidale, doing a post-graduate course, to ask if he’d heard from him, and he’d told her Ronan had written to say he was down at Kapooka near Wagga Wagga, where all the new recruits went. From there he would go to Holsworthy in Sydney for his infantry corps training. By the time Lillie got to Sydney, Ronan should be there too.

  Before she left she met up with Deb in Gullumbindy for a coffee at the milk bar. She had now got her driver’s licence so was able to drive herself in.

  ‘Would you believe what Mum told me last night?’ Deb said, when they took their seats by the window.

  ‘No. What?’

  ‘Sandra’s mum, Winifred, killed her dad.’

  ‘Oh my God! How?’

  ‘She took to him with a carving knife in the kitchen.’

  ‘Gees … Why would she do that?’