Where To From Here?

by Ursula Paul

  That night after dinner while working in his room, the phone rang. He recognized the voice immediately. “Naomi! How are you?”

  “Sorry to call you Joe. I needed to talk to someone and you came to mind.”

  “Where are you Naomi? I’ll meet you.”

  “No. No. No. I don’t want to pull you out. Just – I don’t know – talk to someone who understands.”

  “Of course,” Joe responded quickly.

  “It’s Chelsea, of course. Like everyone else, I can’t believe that this had really happened. And I keep asking myself – could I have stopped it happening?”

  “No, Naomi!” Joe broke in. “There was no way anyone could have seen this coming – and that could have only happened if Chelsea had said or done anything in advance to show her intentions. And it could have been a split decision.”

  “I know Joe. I keep telling myself that. But the thought persists. Sorry to worry you. Perhaps I needed to hear you tell me that. Anyway – I won’t hold you up any longer.”

  “Hold on!” Joe came in quickly. “You need a good sleep. Do you have any sleeping pills?”

  “No. I don’t need them Joe. I just want to do something – anything for Chelsea. No one can bring her back. But something – I don’t know what – needs to be done.”

  “I agree. And I feel the same way. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Thanks Joe. I’m okay.”

  “In that case, you need a good sleep. If no sleeping pills, than a hot drink and into bed.”

  “Yes Dr. Joe,” she answered wanly.

  “Oh, before you go,” Joe added. “Can you meet me for coffee late tomorrow – same time, same place. We may be able to exchange ideas – for Chelsea’s sake.”

  “Thanks Joe. I’d like to.” She rang off.

  Joe’s first question to her the next day when they met at the coffee shop was, “Did you sleep last night?”

  “Not too badly,” she lied.

  Coffee served, Joe confided immediately, “I’ve made an appointment with the Bishop for tomorrow. I have a niggling feeling he knows more than he’s saying.”

  Naomi looked up quickly. “About Chelsea?”

  “Yes. But, just between you and me, it’s a gut feeling. Something happened to Chelsea fairly recently – that’s for sure. From early encounters with the family I don’t think it was in the family. So, that leaves outside influences. And, at her age and in her circumstances, there are not many.”

  “The school, the main one!” Naomi broke in. Then she continued, “I saw Chelsea only briefly over that weekend. All groups came together for meals and the major activities. We were given the same pupils for small group activities and Chelsea wasn’t in mine. Actually, I’m not sure whose group she was in or in which groups she interacted. And there were free times.”

  Joe nodded. “I want to talk to the Bishop. He may know something – even subconsciously.” He paused before asking, “How are things at school?”

  “Pretty grim,” she replied. “But – it will take time – possibly longer than we expect.”

  Chapter Ten

  Joe was warmly welcomed by the Bishop the next morning.

  “Something you forgot?” asked the Bishop after their initial exchanges.

  “No, Bishop,” Joe replied, whilst thoughts tumbled as to how to begin. “It’s about Chelsea and the Brown family.”

  “Oh!” The Bishop spoke quietly, “Such a sad affair.”

  Straight in, thought Joe.

  “I’m acting on my own – I thought I’d make that clear from the beginning. From what I’ve heard there seems to be suspicion in some quarters that Chelsea’s father had molested her. I believe that is false, dangerous gossip. Her family have suffered enough. Is anything being done?”

  Silence prevailed for the next few seconds. Eventually the Bishop answered, “You’ve taken me by surprise. I’ve just had to make a quick decision. I will answer your question as far as the knowledge I have. But, Joe, I state this in the strongest terms, our conversation on this matter must never go out of this room. Can I have your word on that?”

  Rather taken aback, Joe answered, “Yes.”

  The Bishop began, “Like you, from the beginning of this tragedy I soon became 80% sure that whatever Chelsea was suffering did not emanate from her family. School was the next step. It seemed that her personality had changed so dramatically after the class excursion some months back. Her classmates have been quizzed but there’s a wall of silence there. Of course the police have had to handle these kids with kid gloves. They are extremely vulnerable. The police believe the silence is unnaturally opaque – someone knows something but is too traumatized to speak. Perhaps the truth will come from there later, but… who knows!”

  Subconsciously, he mopped his forehead.

  “At that excursion there were only the teachers,” the Bishop continued. “I have checked the background of all our lay teachers – no obvious flaws there. Apart from that… only the three Brothers.”

  Once more the Bishop became silent. As he watched it appeared to Joe that the Bishop was fighting back tears – sadness, anger, both? Soon it was obviously both as the Bishop continued,

  “Out of the blue yesterday I received a phone call from their Provincial.” Now Joe could sense anger in the Bishop’s voice. “He is withdrawing Br. William from here as he is needed elsewhere. When, I asked. Immediately, he replied. Br. Cornelius will replace him next week. No, I told him, that is not good enough. The school is in enough turmoil as it is without changing a Sixth Grade teacher in the middle of term. He apologised but was adamant that Br. William was needed in another school.” The Bishop paused for a few seconds then continued, “I almost begged that he remain until the end of the year but the Provincial wouldn’t budge. I rang off pretty abruptly. I was mighty angry. But as I settled down, questions began to arise. Why now? Why so quickly? I have different discreet means of looking for information. So I used them immediately. It was only just before you came that a phone call gave me the information I did not want to hear. Br. William was quietly removed from his last position after he was accused by one of the young students of trying to rape her. She was a fanciful young lady and a known liar, so it never went to court. And, of course, he claimed innocence and that he was set up. I will phone the Provincial again and ask why I had not been told of this accusation prior to Br. William being engaged by our school. But, I can almost guess his reply – a student lying; no need to further sully William’s character!”

  Both sat in silence for the next few minutes.

  Joe spoke first. “Bishop, what are you going to do now?”

  Joe knew the answer before it was spoken.

  “Joe, what can I do? No court would listen to any case without evidence. And we have no evidence at all. Just possibilities! If teachers or students come forward with any evidence at all we’ll take it further. Without evidence, we can do nothing!”

  Joe’s anger was mounting. “There must be something, Bishop! We can’t let this tragedy go without some type of justice.”

  “There is nothing we can do right now. Our only hope is that someone, somewhere knows the truth and will come forward.”

  Joe had to concede nothing could be done without evidence. And there was no concrete evidence – only suppositions.

  “I assure you Joe – if ever I have enough evidence of any kind to bring the person responsible for this tragedy to justice, I will do so!”

  As they parted, neither Joe nor his bishop would know that it would take almost forty years for justice to be served.

  But nothing would ever ease the burden of sadness Rose and Leo Brown would always carry in the tragic loss of their beloved Chelsea. Soon after they moved back to Sydney. For the children it was a new start. But for Rose and Leo Brown their innate sadness would remain with them for the rest of their lives, no matter where they went.

  Chapter Eleven

  The years passed quickly. The four friends kept in constant contact.
They met at least once a year – always a day of friendship and joy, sometimes questions, often jokes, always a prayer. Their solid friendship never waned. Together they celebrated their fifth anniversary, noting the slowness of change, dashed hopes, happy surprises and questions for the future. They all acknowledged how their prior dreams for the future of the Church had changed, how the world around them was spinning, how they were adapting to culture changes, how, in spite of questions – and sometimes fears – they were determined to ‘hang in’. For special family occasions – weddings, Baptisms, special birthdays – they all endeavoured to attend, mostly successfully.

  Parish life for Joe was always changing but stable. It took many months after Chelsea’s tragic death for the city to come back to life. Many of the pupils and some of the teachers benefited from counselling over many weeks. Other teachers, including the Principal and Naomi, worked through their thoughts and feelings without counselling and gave support to the needy pupils.

  Members of the CYMS and NCGM clubs were touched indirectly – and in a few instances directly – by the tragedy. As weeks turned to months and months to a new year, the pain and sadness eased and, for the majority, the previous life although different, resumed and grew.

  Looking back after a couple of years, Joe had to admit that the Club had been successful.

  Not only were the league teams forging ahead, often in the final four, many times outright winners, soccer and basketball teams were formed. Dances organized with the NCGM now very successful monthly events. Socially and sportswise, the Club had made a very successful beginning. As chaplain and friend to all members, Joe was particularly pleased with the spirit of comradeship of the Club. He was also pleased that, although numbers had dropped very slightly, members worshipped together each month behind their banner.

  Time for me to hand over to one of the younger ‘boys’, was the thought constantly coming to mind as the Club celebrated its fifth birthday. Although he was approaching thirty, Joe knew he was still in the ‘younger’ set. But he was uneasy. Perhaps I need a change, he thought. Yet he knew he was kidding himself. He loved being chaplain and friend to the members of this club. When the thought of what was really disturbing him surfaced, he immediately dismissed it as nonsense. Eventually, thoughts and feelings became so strong he had to admit to himself – he had fallen in love with Naomi. Through the past couple of years they had worked together on youth activities, they had shared problems, they had supported each other. Don’t be so stupid, he told himself – you’re a celibate priest. Reason soon suggested – tell that to your feelings.

  They were both now part of a committee working towards taking a group of young people to the up-coming Youth Festival in Sydney. Both had consented to not only supervising a group, but also giving a talk. Preparation over the next few weeks were constant and time consuming but, ultimately, very rewarding.

  Chapter Twelve

  “A good job done well!” laughed Joe as they stopped waving and the train vanished into the distance.

  “I think the kids enjoyed being part of such a big event. It was well organized. They’ll have plenty to chew over for the next few weeks. And, hopefully, they are all pretty well tired out, so the teachers will have a quiet journey home.”

  “I’m sure you exhausted that group in the last session,” Joe teased. “They’ll be glad of a rest.”

  “Listen to who’s talking!” Naomi responded with a laugh.

  Joe and Naomi had been part of the organizing committee for the State Youth Festival.

  Representing their diocese, they had been responsible, not only for the organization of the group coming from the diocese, but also for some of the combined activities of the Festival.

  “Are you driving back now?” Joe asked.

  “No,” Naomi replied. “I decided to stay down here for the night and leave early in the morning.”

  “Great minds think alike…” Joe began.

  “Or fools seldom differ!” Naomi added. Then, “Sorry, did I interrupt you?”

  “You certainly did!” he laughed. “If you have no other plans, would you like to join me for dinner?”

  “No other plans, Joe. And dinner sounds great. After those few hectic days keeping an eye on the kids most of the time, a relaxed dinner will be heaven! Where and when?”

  “I’ve no idea!”

  “Well, Joe,” Naomi smiled. “You’re a great worker, but as a planner there’s room for improvement. So… let’s start. Where are you staying?”

  “Well, Nae, I don’t know! I thought I’d try the place where Mum and Dad always stay when they come to town. But I haven’t booked yet.”

  “Joe, you’re hopeless! I’m okay. But we’d better get you fixed up. With the Festival, the city’s accommodation is well booked.”

  The ‘place where Mum and Dad always stay’ was booked out. But management advised that, for the sake of his parents, if he found no other accommodation they would find ‘something’. Joe thanked them and added, “Expect me if you see me.”

  “What about you?” Joe turned to Naomi.

  “I’m okay – just around the corner. And it has a first class restaurant attached. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  “Me too!” Joe grinned. “Let’s eat. I can always go back to the broom cupboard!”

  As they walked to the restaurant neither was aware of the emotions racing within the other.

  This may not be such a good idea, thought Joe.

  Don’t get morbid, thought Naomi. Enjoy – probably the last time to enjoy time together.

  Soon they reached the restaurant and were seated at a window table ordering pre-dinner drinks.

  “This is the life,” laughed Joe, determined to make it a happy meal.

  “Yes,” agreed Naomi, “and with a successful few days to celebrate.”

  “Enough! No further mention of the last few days. Time to reassess later.”

  “Fine with me.”

  It was a happy carefree meal as each veiled feelings in laughter and light-hearted conversation.

  A slight argument developed as they were about to leave.

  “Well, at least let me contribute.”

  “No, Nae. You deserved this meal after all your hard work. And I’ve enjoyed celebrating with you the success of the last few days – and without any serious mishap in our squad!”

  “Thanks Joe.” She hesitated. Then added brightly. “Come on Joe, let’s walk along the esplanade.”

  “Yes, let’s.”

  Outside the air was still, but heavy. The moon was blanketed by thick cloud. Far on the horizon lightning zig-zagged, lighting up the sky. Silently they walked along the Harbour shores, each fighting surging emotions. Eventually Naomi broke the silence, “Thanks Joe, for an enjoyable evening.” She hesitated. “Perhaps my send-off!” She waited a few minute before continuing, “Joe, it’s only fair to tell you. I’m leaving. But I’m not saying anything in advance, so please keep this to yourself.”

  Joe, openly surprised, asked, “Why and when?”

  “I applied to a high school in Melbourne. I didn’t expect an answer as quickly as this. It has such a high reputation and is very popular. I flew down for an interview a couple of weeks ago – have just received notice that my application is successful and asked to begin there next term, which is only a few weeks away. I’ve already resigned from my present job, which is now being advertised. I’ll be leaving the week after next.”

  Joe was stunned. “But why, Nae? Why such a big move so quickly?”

  How could she answer that without alluding to the truth – that she was so deeply in love with him that she would have to get away before it became obvious.

  “Just needed further experience,” she lied. “And this position came up so quickly and seemed such a good idea.”

  “But Nae.” He was lost for words and fighting for self-control. Suddenly he stopped and faced her.

  “Nae, something is wrong. Why are you leaving like this? So
mething is very wrong. What is it? Please tell me.”

  “No,” she whispered as she turned away.

  Gently he turned her back to face him. “Nae, look at me.”

  As their eyes me, secrets faded into reality.

  “Joe,” she whispered as he pulled her to him.

  They kissed, lovingly, passionately, as their previously untold reciprocal love found expression. Some time passed before they became aware of the drizzle and cold wind that had developed. Arm in arm, they ran to the shelter of the pier.

  “No broom cupboard for you tonight,” she whispered.

  “No,” he smiled back.

  Each had made a decision. Wordlessly, the decision was accepted by the other. Both had inwardly decided that this night would be theirs. As she opened the door to the apartment, he picked her up, carried her in and gently lifted her on to the bed. Their eyes met, conveying the message no words could adequately express. No words could express the depth of their love; no words could express the heartache of the separation that both knew lay before them. But tonight they were together to share and experience their deep, unique love.

  Words were inadequate, time motionless; yet each felt the depth of the love they shared.

  After their first love-making, they lay close, with so much to say and so few appropriate words.

  “Will you be all right tomorrow and all the tomorrows after that?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Life will be hard without you. But your love will be my strength.”

  “My darling Nae,” he answered. “Tonight I have experienced loving and being loved in the deepest way. Your love is so very precious to me. How it will help me in my life ahead!”

  He hesitated, then added softly, “But I can never be a husband to you.”

  Tears welled. Minute passed as each battled deep emotions.

  Softly Joe added, “In the years ahead you may meet someone who would be a good mate and husband. Please don’t let what we have shared prevent you from accepting life with another.”