Allison’s face alternated between mild anger at being tricked and relief. “Thanks, I was beginning to think I was a fish in a very small pond of sharks. I think I’ll head back to my room.”
“No problem, I’ll walk you.”
The pair silently walked until they reached Allison’s door. Allison opened the door and walked into the room, followed by Sarah. “As a matter of fact I think I’ll come in. That is, if you don’t mind.”
“I know what you’re doing and I really don’t want to talk about it.”
Sarah stretched out on the bed and placed her hands behind her head. “Too bad. I’ve had about enough of you two. There’re some things you need to know before you make up your mind. If you listen to me I promise not to bother you any more. After I’m finished, the decision will be yours.”
Allison closed the door. “I suppose it’s the only way I’m going to get rid of you.”
Sarah smiled. “I’m glad you see it my way. I know something happened between you and Michela after I’d spoken to you and before I found her as drunk as a lord in the Wills Station bar the night before we left.” She paused at Allison’s surprised look.
“I didn’t think she drank that much.”
“I don’t think she did until then,” Sarah replied. “All I could get out of her were ramblings that something had happened between the two of you and no more. It was only yesterday I got a better picture.”
Allison’s face reddened as she remembered how she’d found Michela and Maddi. “So, you know she was seeing Maddi?”
Sarah’s features softened. “Oh, Alli, it wasn’t like that at all. Yes, Michela and Maddi had a very brief interlude during the voyage on the way to Antarctica, but that was only one night. Trust me, I know Maddi and she was only really interested in scratching an itch, and Michela was the itch. What you saw at the station before you left was Michela comforting Maddi.” Allison snorted. “No, listen, please. Maddi lost her father that day and had only just received the news. Michela was doing no more than comforting her after Maddi had asked for her professional help. Do you really think Michela would overstep her professional bounds and compromise her reputation?”
Allison tried to recall exactly what she’d seen. But how do I know for sure? She answered her own question as she remembered Michela’s work ethic and their discussions during the storm. Michela had admitted she’d strong feelings for Allison for a long time, but her promise and professionalism meant she’d never acted on them. So why would she do so now? Allison raised her eyes to Sarah. “I believe you, but I think it’s too late. I let her walk away. What’s done is done.”
Sarah got up from the bed and took Allison’s hand. “Only if you want it to be.” She looked at her watch. “It’s after two, so now’s probably not a good time. Why don’t you try and talk with her in the morning? Believe me, I think she’ll be willing to listen.” Her eyes twinkled.
Allison awkwardly hugged Sarah. “Thanks for having the patience to verbally pound some sense into me.”
Sarah returned the hug. “You two were made for each other. Now, if I can only get the two of you to realize this at exactly the same time then I’ll be a happy woman.”
AFTER THINKING ABOUT how she would approach Michela, Allison finally drifted off to sleep at four in the morning. It was some time later when she finally awoke with a start. She looked at her watch and launched herself out of bed. After a quick shower, she lightly jogged to Michela’s room.
“Allison, there you are,” Dianne said when Allison was within sight of Michela’s door. Allison sighed and turned around. “They’re unloading the containers and they want to know where and how you want them laid on the wharf. I’d have asked Rick, but he’s still seasick. Do you think you can let them know?”
So, Di, now you know what it feels like to run after that pain in the backside. “I’ll head down there now. Do you think you and Rick can manage once I get the load onto the wharf? I’ve got a couple of things I need to see to.”
“I’m sure we can. Once I get Rick onto solid ground he should be a lot better.” Dianne turned and walked quickly down the corridor.
“Thanks to you, too,” Allison muttered. She stopped at Michela’s door and placed her palm on the door, making a silent promise to return.
MICHELA FINISHED PACKING, looked around for any stray belongings, and checked the cupboard one last time. She looked at the door, feeling disappointed that Sarah had got it wrong. She was certain Sarah was going to talk with Allison. Well, there you go, Sarah. It seems Alli wasn’t so interested after all.
MAKING SENSE OF the unloading of the artifacts took a lot longer than Allison had first expected. She knocked at Michela’s door before seeing the access card in its slot.
“Michela,” she called, as she pushed on the access card and the door. Her hopes plummeted as she looked at the Spartan emptiness of the room, and she slumped against the wall in defeat. Surely she hadn’t left so soon. Maybe she’s on the deck. She pushed away from the wall and ran down the gangway and toward the bow of the ship.
MICHELA TOOK HER time as she adjusted to solid ground. She shook out her legs, found her bags, and loaded them onto a small trolley.
She watched Rick and Dianne, who were preoccupied with unloading the cargo further down the wharf and her thoughts returned to the dig site.
Michela couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss over her failure with Allison. She gazed up one final time at the lines of the ship that had brought her one step closer to her homeward journey and found herself staring straight into Allison’s eyes as she stood at the ship’s bow.
“Michela,” Allison called above the din.
Before she could respond to Allison’s hail, Michela felt hands encircle her waist. She turned and yelped in surprise. “Chrissie, what are you doing here?”
Christine laughed. “Can’t a sister greet her explorer from the ends of the earth? That’s the way it’s done isn’t it? And besides, I was in Hong Kong for a conference and this was too good an opportunity to let pass.”
“You’re mad, you know. Greetings were usually done by husbands or wives. Just a moment, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Michela turned and sadness overwhelmed her. Allison was gone.
Houston—2010
MICHELA GATHERED HER notes as Dr. Reilly completed his conference call. He rubbed his hands together and smiled. “That went well. I think the board’s convinced that your time in Antarctica was well spent. Your research should exponentially speed up our Mars project. Well done.”
Michela nodded. “Thank you. There were days I didn’t think I was ever going to get it finished. Between the project and calls from the coroner in Hobart, regarding Ewan McMillan’s death, I was surprised I managed to find the time.” She’d provided the coroner with a report, as well as the contact details of the rest of the team. Out of professional courtesy and vain hope of a reply, Michela had e-mailed Allison, advising her of the coroner’s keenness to interview the team. Although her system identified the e-mail had been opened, there was no response.
William nodded. “So what’s next?”
Michela picked up her digital tablet. “Back to the project, I guess. Ms. Finlayson has asked me to come to her country home next week and personally provide a report. If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a couple of days to visit her.”
“Given her funding made the project worthwhile,” Dr. Reilly said, “it’s the least we can do.”
MICHELA SMILED WHEN the same driver who’d taken her to Charlotte’s office before was waiting for her at the small airport. During the drive to the estate, she entertained him with tales of ice flows and icebergs on the Great Southern Ocean.
Michela couldn’t help but stare when they drove through wrought iron gates. The car crept up a tree-lined drive and stopped in front of an imposing mansion.
Michela was hard pressed not to stare at the grand home in front of her. Her preoccupation was interrupted as she felt the driver beside her.
Almost on cue, one of the double doors to the mansion opened and a short, elderly woman, dressed in a grey skirt and pastel violet cashmere pullover, stood on the porch with her arms crossed.
“That’s Ella,” the driver whispered and then walked up the stairs.
“Where have you been, old man?” Ella asked in a soft southern accent. “You must be Dr. DeGrasse, Miss Charlotte’s guest. I’m Ella, part housekeeper, part secretary to Miss Charlotte.”
Michela extended her hand. “Please, Dr. DeGrasse is my mother. I’d very much prefer if you’d call me Michela.”
“That’s a lovely name,” Ella said. “Miss Charlotte has asked me to place you in the east wing, so if you’ll follow me.” She turned and walked through the doorway.
Michela took her bag from the driver, thanked him, and hefted it onto her shoulder. “I gather Ms. Finlayson’s not here. When is she due?”
Ella lightly chuckled. “Just like people your age. Always the destination, never the journey. Miss Charlotte’s here, but she’s at the family cemetery. She asked if you could join her there.”
Michela nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry for being so direct. How about you show me to my room and we’ll take it from there.”
Ella gave her a brief tour, taking in what Michela surmised to be only the key rooms of the magnificent home. As she looked at the treasures in the rooms shown to her, she realized that Elizabeth’s descendants had followed in her footsteps. The walls of more than one room were liberally dotted with collections from one expedition or another, all with an obvious tale to tell. Ella finished the tour in the kitchen and offered Michela a homemade glass of lemonade before pointing her in the direction of the family cemetery.
Michela crested a small hill and gasped at the view. On the forward slopes was a small cemetery overlooking the wooded valley below. In the distance were mountain ranges, their multicolored leaves reflecting in the twilight sun. Returning her gaze to the small family plot, she spied a jean-clad Charlotte bent over a headstone in the cemetery.
Michela walked to a small gate that signaled the entrance to the plot. The gate creaked as she pushed it open, and Charlotte rose to greet her, surprising her with a hug.
“My intrepid explorer returns,” Charlotte said. “By the looks of it, the trip took a lot out of you. What have you been doing to look so awful?”
Michela laughed at Charlotte’s bluntness. “I’ve been working too hard and not getting enough food or sleep. But I finished the last of my presentations for the Institute the other day, so maybe my life can get back to normal.”
“Maybe it can.” Charlotte eagerly grasped Michela’s hand. “Let me show you something.”
Charlotte led Michela to a pair of gravestones. One was very old with corners touched by the moss and lichen that had leeched into the old basalt. Michela knelt down and read the inscription:
Here lies Charlotte Louise Finlayson
Beloved mother of Robert Finlayson
and Beloved wife of Elizabeth Robyn Finlayson
Born 1866, Died 1949
Even in Death I Will Not Be Parted
The other headstone was of freshly cut basalt. Unlike the gilt on the older stone, the gold inscription on the modern one was clear and bold:
Here lies Elizabeth Robyn Finlayson
Beloved mother of Robert Finlayson
and Beloved wife of Charlotte Louise Finlayson
Born 1858, Died 1897, Laid to rest 2010
Together at last - Even in Death I Will Not Be Parted
Overcome with emotion, Michela dried her eyes with her handkerchief, then stood and gazed at Charlotte. “You knew all along, didn’t you?”
“That Eric was actually Elizabeth?” Michela nodded. “Of course I did. That’s why I wanted you as the team leader. I knew I could rely on your tolerance, given your own circumstances.”
Michela blinked at Charlotte. “You know about me?”
“Of course I know about your lifestyle choice; and don’t look so surprised. You really didn’t think I’d have allowed you to lead the expedition if I didn’t check your background first? In my wildest dreams, I never thought you’d find my grandmother but I’m eternally grateful you did.”
Michela shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t take all the credit. It was the dig team that made the discovery.” She gazed at the two stones. Thinking of the many discussions about the two women she and Allison had shared during the storm, she knew Allison would be grateful to see their final resting-place. “I know this is a strange request. Would you mind if I took a picture of the stones?”
Charlotte smiled. “Not at all. But then we should head down to the house. It might be spring, but the late afternoon chill settles quickly on these old bones of mine. And, besides, I’m sure you’ve a number of questions you’re dying to ask.”
Michela took three photographs with her PDA. The setting was just perfect, with the rays of the evening sun reflecting off the polished basalt, bringing the gold inscriptions into relief. Despite Allison’s reticence to answer her e-mail, Michela knew she’d be eager to see this. After checking the pictures, she placed the PDA in her pocket, and followed Charlotte down to the house and into the drawing room.
After light refreshments, they sat in the comfortable chairs, waiting for the other to start.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Michela asked.
Charlotte chuckled. “I’m sure you’ve got more than one. Ask away. If I don’t wish to answer, I won’t.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth about Elizabeth’s gender?”
Charlotte pointed at Michela. “Ah, so you think I lied to you, but I didn’t. If you remember when we entered the office, you looked at the painting of my grandparents that hung behind my desk. I told you I was named after my grandmother, both of them in fact. My name is Charlotte Elizabeth Finlayson. It was only after you referred to Elizabeth as Eric that I saw no need to correct the mistake.”
Michela tilted her head. “But why?”
Charlotte grinned. “People often see what they want to see and little else. You chose to see my grandmother as Eric and I saw no need to change that. Truth be told, I didn’t hold out much hope that you would find her remains and now that you have, the secret is well and truly out in the open.”
“Does that bother you?”
Charlotte shook her head. “No, not at all.”
“You’re aware we found her diary down there and it’s in Australia at the Flinders Museum.” Charlotte nodded. “I know this next question is a bit forward and you may chose not to answer, but were they lovers, or was their arrangement more of a Boston marriage?”
Charlotte chuckled. “Yes, they were lovers in the true sense of the word. My grandmother Charlotte lost her husband shortly after the birth of her child. By her diary accounts, she met my grandmother Elizabeth at a presentation she attended on an expedition Elizabeth had conducted to China. What you have to understand is that when Elizabeth was in the public eye she always dressed as a man and no one knew the difference. By Charlotte’s accounts, when the two set eyes on each other it was love at first sight. Elizabeth shied away, aware of the precariousness of her own situation and fearful of Charlotte’s reaction. In her diary my grandmother Charlotte speaks of the culminating event in their relationship. Elizabeth had a dinner party here and invited a number of guests, of which Charlotte was one. Throughout the night Charlotte was open with her feelings, but Elizabeth still shied away. It wasn’t until late in the evening that Charlotte managed to find Elizabeth alone in the library. She locked the door and took the explorer into her arms. She whispered two words into Elizabeth’s ear. ‘I know.’ She’d known Elizabeth’s secret all along, it was just Eliza
beth wouldn’t stand still long enough for Charlotte to tell her. They married and lived as man and wife or, more correctly, wife and wife.”
Michela sat back. If only Alli could hear that. It’s a story worthy of a movie. “What a lovely story. It’s a shame they couldn’t live as two women in a loving relationship.”
Charlotte nodded. “Yes, it’s unfortunate how things turn out. But I think the thing that hurt Grandmother Charlotte the most occurred when she was told of her lover’s death.” She took a sip of tea.
“About eighteen months or so after the expedition had departed, which was a good four months after it was due to return, Charlotte was visited by the American National Exploration and Philanthropic Society. They’d sponsored a great deal of the expedition. The reason they visited was to tell Charlotte of her husband’s death. Although they couldn’t be sure, given how he was overdue, they felt he’d most likely perished on Antarctica. They reassured her, explaining how he’d be lauded as one of the great explorers of his time. It was then that Charlotte let the cat out of the bag so to speak, explaining he was actually a she. As she records in her diary the group was shocked and disgusted, and left shortly thereafter.”
Michela sadly shook her head. “That’s disgraceful.”
“Yes it is, but there’s more. Doesn’t it strike you as strange that you’ve never heard much about the failed expedition?”
“Come to think of it, yes, it does,” Michela said.
“That’s because there was very little publicity about Elizabeth’s death made by the Society, given that it would be scandalous to announce that the first explorer on the continent was not only dead but a woman who lived with another woman under the veil of marriage. The memorial service was small and I’m being generous when I say that. Since then there’s been little recognition until now. And I have you to thank for that.” Charlotte patted Michela’s hand.
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