Lulu saw the utility race along the cobbles and screech to a halt outside their hotel, and her heart missed a beat. It was Peter.
‘We need to talk,’ he said, taking her arm and steering her up the steps into the lounge.
There was an aura of pent-up fury about Peter, and Lulu didn’t question him until they’d reached a quiet corner of the lounge. ‘What’s happened? He hasn’t taken a turn for the worse, has he?’
‘Nothing that simple,’ he muttered. He took her hand. ‘I’m sorry, Lulu, I’ve really messed things up. I hope you can forgive me.’
‘He doesn’t want to see me, does he?’
He ran his fingers through his hair and refused to look at her. ‘I really thought he might,’ he said, ‘but he telephoned me and made it clear he doesn’t have the courage to face you.’
Lulu leant back in the chair, her gaze fixed on Peter. The poor man was obviously distraught – and she couldn’t blame him – but her disappointment was stiletto sharp.
They sat in silence. The minutes ticked by – and Lulu’s resolve hardened. ‘I’ve waited too long for this,’ she said finally, ‘and I’m not leaving Hobart without seeing him.’ She regarded Peter steadily. ‘From what you’ve said, I gather he’s not a man accustomed to shying from confrontation.’
‘He meets things head-on. Always has done.’
‘Until now,’ said Lulu softly. ‘He’s probably ashamed he abandoned me, and maybe scared I’ll judge him and find him wanting.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But I’m determined to see him. He has to realise he has nothing to fear from me.’
‘He’ll be furious,’ Peter warned. ‘Dad’s used to having his own way.’
‘He’s my father. He’ll get over it.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
Lulu tamped down on the squirm of fear and gathered up her coat and handbag. ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,’ she retorted with more composure than she felt. She looked down at Peter, who was still slumped in his chair. ‘Will you take me, or do I have to call a taxi?’
Peter rose from the chair, clearly unhappy. ‘I’d better take you,’ he muttered, ‘but you’ll need to prepare yourself for what could turn out to be an ugly confrontation.’
‘If he’s that unpleasant I will leave, and that will be the end to it,’ she said, lifting her chin in defiance.
‘Do you want me to come?’ Dolly was already gathering her things from the couch.
Lulu shook her head. ‘I need to do this alone, Dolly.’
Dolly gave her hug and kissed her cheek. ‘Best of luck, darling, and if the old blighter gives you any trouble, I’ll soon sort him out.’
Lulu smiled her appreciation of Dolly’s support and followed Peter to the utility. She was thankful for his silence as he drove out of Sullivan’s Cove and up the winding, steep route towards the mountain, for her thoughts were whirling – the burst of defiance and courage ebbing with every mile.
The narrow road was lined with trees and shrubs that almost hid the tiny wooden houses that perched at the very foot of the great mountain. And as they climbed, she looked back and saw Hobart sprawling beneath them, and the glitter of the sea and river. But the peak was shrouded in grey swirling cloud. Perhaps it was an omen, she thought, and shivered.
Peter drove through the wide iron gates and drew to a halt on the gravelled driveway. He helped her down, his expression anxious. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
‘Absolutely.’
Peter smiled. ‘I can see you’re nervous, despite the brave face, but I admire you, Lulu, and I’m sure Dad will too. Just remember that his bark is far worse than his bite, and don’t let him bully you.’
‘I know how to handle bullies,’ she muttered. ‘Let’s get on with it.’
He led her along a path lined with hydrangeas to the wide expanse of lawn. The house was perched on the hill, the mountain soaring behind it, Hobart spread below. There were green shutters at every window, and glass doors lead to a broad terrace where chairs and tables waited for more clement weather.
Her heart was hammering as Peter led her up the steps to the terrace and into a large reception hall where men and women were sitting playing board games or chatting over a cup of tea. Her gaze flitted from face to face, waiting for a reaction – wondering which one was her father – almost dreading seeing him.
‘He’ll be in his room listening to the radio as it’s too cold to go outside,’ Peter murmured, as he led her down a long corridor and stopped in front of a closed door.
Lulu’s legs threatened to buckle and she grabbed his arm. ‘I don’t know if I can do this,’ she said in sudden panic.
‘Then we’ll leave.’
Lulu felt as if she was glued to the floor with indecision. She’d come so far, was only a few steps from the man she had wanted to meet all her life. She had to find the courage to see this through or she would regret it for ever. Looking up at Peter, she could see he was as nervous and unsure as she. ‘Promise you won’t leave me.’
Peter nodded.
She gathered her courage and opened the door.
Frank White was sitting in a high-backed chair by the window, his hat on the table beside him, his attention so avidly fixed to the radio show that he was unaware of his visitors.
Lulu stood in the doorway and regarded him with open curiosity, for this was the father she’d never known, the man whose face she’d never seen – not even in her dreams. He had a shock of curly silver hair that reached almost to his collar, and his leathery skin spoke of living and working in the sun, but the lines and crevasses of his face merely enhanced his rugged appearance. Frank White had once been a very handsome man.
She stepped into the room, her fear quashed, confidence soaring.
Frank turned from the radio, his bright blue eyes widening as they settled upon her. ‘What are you doing here?’ he rasped, fumbling for his walking stick. ‘I told Peter you weren’t to come.’
‘I’ll leave if you want me to,’ she replied coolly, ‘but it would be a shame if I did, because then we couldn’t get to know one another.’
Frank struggled to his feet and switched off the radio. ‘You’ve got a nerve, girlie, I’ll say that for you,’ he growled.
‘It seemed silly not to meet when we are both in the same town,’ she said, taking a step towards him, ‘and I had to come to satisfy my own curiosity.’
Frank grinned and glanced at Peter. ‘She’s a real Pommy sheila, ain’t she? Talks like someone on the BBC.’
‘Clarice made me have elocution lessons. I hated every last one of them,’ she said evenly.
His smile faltered as his gaze travelled from her head to her sensible boots. ‘The last time we met, you were just a nipper,’ he said gruffly, ‘but my, oh my, how you’ve grown.’
Her pulse raced. ‘We’ve met before?’
‘A long, long time ago,’ he said softly.
‘So why didn’t you want to see me again?’
He sank back into the chair and refused to meet her gaze. ‘Lost me nerve, I reckon,’ he admitted. ‘This has all come as a bit of shock, and at my age, that’s not too good.’ He looked up at her then, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘But there’s nothing like a pretty face to cheer up an old cobber like me. Sit down, Lorelei,’ he patted the chair next to him. ‘I’m getting a crook in me neck looking up at you.’
She heard the slur in his speech, and as she sat down she noted the way his mouth drooped to one side and his hand trembled on the head of the walking stick. The stroke had obviously affected him, but his sense of humour and sharp mind had remained intact. ‘You said we’ve met before, but I would have remembered if we had.’
‘You were only two. A lovely, bright little thing you were.’ His eyes swam with unshed tears. ‘You grasped my leg and looked up at me with those big eyes and I was lost.’ He dabbed his eyes. ‘Your tiny fingers held so tightly to mine it was as if you never wanted to let me go. Leaving you behind was the hardest thing I’d e
ver done.’
Lulu felt strangely unaffected by his distress. ‘Then why did you?’
‘I had a wife and two boys. I couldn’t hurt them.’
She felt a rush of anger. ‘But you didn’t mind hurting me,’ she said flatly. ‘And you didn’t think of your wife and son when you slept with my mother.’
‘I was young, foolish and hot-blooded,’ he snapped. ‘I’d left home after a row with Peter’s mother, and Gwen …’ He gave a sigh, his anger depleted. ‘She was hard to resist, and I’ve regretted my foolishness ever since,’ he finished.
‘Because of the hurt you’ve caused, or because of Gwen’s demands for money?’
He glared at her from under bushy eyebrows. ‘Both,’ he rasped. ‘It hasn’t been easy.’
Her contemptuous grunt echoed between them. ‘You should have tried it on my side of the fence,’ she retorted. ‘I had to grow up without a father – never knowing who you were, or why you abandoned me to Gwen’s tender mercies.’ She took a deep breath to quell the building rage. ‘Can you imagine what it’s like being branded illegitimate?’
His expression hardened, his glare settling on Peter. ‘This is why I didn’t want to see her,’ he barked. ‘I knew it was a mistake.’
‘Mistakes seem to be your forte,’ Lulu said evenly, ‘but I’ve had to live with them all my life. They made me different to everyone else – not only because of my accent, and my stupid heart condition, but because of my family circumstances. I didn’t have a father – I didn’t even have a mother – and I was being raised by a woman old enough to be my grandmother. That’s a tough thing to brazen out – especially in a private girls’ school in England where snobbery is rife and ancestry is all-important.’
‘You’re angry,’ he muttered, ‘and I don’t blame you.’
‘Damn right I’m angry,’ she retorted, sweeping off the beret and shaking out her hair.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s a bit late for apologies,’ she snapped. The rage in her was shocking, and although this was not how she’d planned to conduct this meeting, it was as if that anger had been stored up over twenty-six years and would not be denied. ‘The damage was done years ago when you slept with Gwen. It lives on in the tittle-tattle and prejudice here in Tasmania and will no doubt follow me to the grave.’ She took a breath. ‘No amount of apology will counter that.’
He raised his head, his blue eyes piercing in their directness. ‘The circumstances surrounding your birth were shameful, I admit. And I am truly sorry for that. You were the innocent who had to pay a high price for what me and your mother did all those years ago. But I never forgot you, and tried my best to keep an eye out for you.’
‘By having someone spy on me?’
He eyed her sharply. ‘You have a sour tongue, Missy.’
‘It comes with bitter memories.’ She grabbed her beret and handbag. ‘This was a mistake,’ she said to Peter. ‘Will you take me back to the hotel, please?
‘I thought you were made of tougher stuff,’ Frank barked as they reached the door. ‘Gwen would have stayed and fought it out – not run away.’
‘You know nothing about me,’ she shot back. ‘And don’t you ever compare me to Gwen.’
‘You’ll be back,’ he rasped.
‘Don’t count on it.’
She hurried out and ran down the stairs to the ute. Slamming the door, she waited for Peter, blinded by tears. She had invested so much hope in that meeting and she’d squandered it. The years of humiliation and resentment had been too pent-up, the emotions too strong.
Peter climbed in beside her. ‘Do you really want to leave?’ he asked quietly.
She nodded and blinked away the tears.
‘I can understand how angry and hurt you must be,’ he said, ‘but reconciliation will take time – for both of you. Give him another chance, Lulu.’
She turned her head and looked through the window at the clinic. She’d been wrong to storm out like that, to show such lack of control, but the thought of going back in there today and apologising to him was too humiliating.
‘I’ll think about it,’ she murmured.
*
Three days later, Lulu was waiting for Dolly to return from the hairdresser when Peter strode into the hotel lounge.
‘He telephoned again this morning, asking to see you,’ he said. ‘I think he’s genuinely sorry the meeting didn’t go well and wants to clear the air.’
Lulu saw the silent plea in his eyes and realised she was being pig-headed and unfair. Peter had come every day, begging her to reconsider and relaying Frank’s many telephone messages. It would be churlish to refuse to see him – a lost opportunity she knew she would always regret. She picked up her coat and bag. ‘Let’s go before I change my mind.’
Leaving a message for Dolly at reception, they drove away from the hotel and once again climbed the steep mountain road.
Lulu’s heart was beating steadily, her emotions firmly under control as they took the last long bend and caught their first glimpse of the clinic through the trees.
The utility came from nowhere. It was heading straight for them on the wrong side of the road, and going much too fast.
‘Hold on,’ yelled Peter as he yanked on the steering wheel. The tyres screeched, and as he slammed on the brakes they skidded into the gravel at the side of the road, narrowly missing a large tree.
The other utility rocked on its chassis as it swerved back to the right side of the road and raced away.
‘Bloody hell!’ Peter gasped. ‘That was close.’ He turned to look at Lulu. ‘Are you hurt? You’ve gone awfully pale.’
She shook her head distractedly. ‘Did you see the driver?’
‘I was too busy trying not to crash into the idiot.’
‘It was Gwen.’
His face blanched beneath the tan. ‘You don’t think she … ?’
‘We’d better get up there,’ said Lulu. ‘Frank could be in trouble.’
Peter engaged the gears and they shot out of the gravel and took the rest of the bend too fast. Hurtling through the ornate iron gates, they skidded to a halt at the bottom of the steps.
Lulu was out of the truck before the engine had died. Up the steps and along the hall she ran, the sound of Peter’s heavier tread gaining on her. She thrust open the door to Frank’s room and came to an abrupt halt.
Frank was in his chair, a middle-aged nurse leaning over him with a bag of ice pressed to his cheek. She turned and glared. ‘Get out,’ she snapped. ‘Frank’s had enough visitors for one day.’
Frank pushed away the ice. ‘Stop making such a fuss woman,’ he growled. ‘This is my son and daughter, and I want to see them.’
‘But …’
‘But nothing. Get out and leave me be.’
She dumped the ice pack in his lap and left in a bustle of starched uniform, her face glowing with righteous indignation.
Lulu hurried across the room, Peter at her heels. She stared in horror at the livid marks on his cheek and the swelling above his eye. ‘Did Gwen do that?’
Frank eyed them both shamefacedly. ‘I didn’t see it coming,’ he confessed. ‘One minute she was yelling at me, the next – wham.’ He winced as he pressed the ice to his face. ‘The bitch has a punch worthy of Jack Dempsey,’ he muttered.
‘What did she want?’
His blue eyes gleamed. ‘Money. It’s all she ever wants.’ His pride returned and he lifted his chin. ‘I told her to go to hell and threatened to call the cops.’ He chuckled. ‘The expression on her face was almost worth the black eye.’
‘It must have shaken you up,’ said Peter, inspecting the damage. ‘I’ll get the doctor to give you the once-over.’
‘I might be getting on, but I’m not so decrepit I can’t take a punch from a flaming woman.’ Frank glared. ‘Sit down, the pair of you, and stop making such a bloody fuss.’
Lulu sat in the chair she’d occupied before and eyed him warily. He was obviously used to getting his own
way and got easily roused when thwarted. He couldn’t be an easy man to live with.
‘Don’t look at me like that, Lorelei. I’m not about to eat you,’ he growled. He regarded her in silence. ‘I’m sorry we got off to a bad start the other day. Thanks for coming.’
‘I’m sorry too,’ she said evenly. ‘When we saw Gwen driving so recklessly away from here I realised how important it was to put things right between us. I’m just thankful she did you no real harm.’
His smile was wry. ‘Only to me pride, girl – only to me pride.’ His blue eyes twinkled. ‘I always knew you’d turn into a beauty,’ he said gruffly.
Feeling ridiculously pleased, she reddened. ‘I don’t see how,’ she replied. ‘The last time you saw me I was only a baby.’
‘I used to go to the beach to watch you when I went up north. You were there most days regardless of the weather.’ He reached out and touched her hair. ‘You were my secret little water baby, and Peter chose well when he named the colt.’
Lulu swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Why didn’t you let me know you were there, and who you were? I so wanted to have a father.’
‘You know why, and I admit it was cowardly.’ He blinked and looked down at his hands. ‘I had very little to offer, especially in those early years, and I knew Clarice loved you, and would give you the best of everything once you’d escaped Gwen’s clutches and settled in England.’
He dropped the ice bag on the table and kept his gaze averted. ‘I never planned for us to meet,’ he said, his voice rough with emotion. ‘It was enough for me to know you were thriving.’ He looked at her then. ‘It’s only now I realise how wrong I was. Will you forgive me?’
Lulu felt the old hurts and resentments melt away as she took his hand. ‘Of course,’ she breathed.
‘I thought I knew everything about you, but now you’re here I realise I know nothing at all. Tell me about yourself, Lorelei.’
‘My friends call me Lulu,’ she replied, ‘although Clarice refuses to do so.’ She grinned. ‘She thinks it’s common to shorten names.’
His gaze was penetrating and steady. ‘Am I to be your friend?’
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