“Honestly, Mum. We’re all trying to help. We’re only trying to help.”
“All? Who the hell is all?”
“Please, Mum. Don’t be upset.” Jess retrieved the tray. “You should be getting to sleep.”
“You started this, Jess.” She bridled. “What’s it really about?”
“I can’t …”
“Talk to me!”
“Promise you won’t get upset.”
“I can’t promise that. You should know better.”
“Gran says you’re …”
“Go on.”
“She says you’re flighty.”
“Of course she does. She wants to shut me up. It won’t work. It never worked. I won’t be quiet. Poor Gail! She’s unstable!”
“It’s not like that!”
“What is it like?”
“Gran’s sorry for you. Truly. She says you never should have come here.”
“That’s the truth.”
“Why did you come here, Mum?”
“You know why. You’ve heard it a million times. After I was sick, they sent me here to recuperate. After I went home, your father proposed and I came back.”
“But why do you keep coming back? You’re not happy. Alison says when you’re away you’re happy.”
She’d thought she’d come back for power and luxury, and Jess. Until the dinner conversation with George Walker. Had she subconsciously suspected that Rick lived? Was that why she’d kept coming back?
“You never talk about it, Mum.”
Poor Jess. She so badly wanted to help. Nothing was going to help.
“The truth, Jess?”
“If you want to, Mum.”
Not the truth. Never the truth. Half truths to appease Jess. “I’ve planned to leave for good. Often.”
“Without me!”
“No, Jess. Not without you. That’s part of it. I couldn’t bear to leave you.”
“You could have taken me with you.”
“And your father would have let me?”
“It’s not too late, Mum.”
“Your Gran’s right,” she prevaricated. “I should never have come back at all. It’s a long story.”
“I’m glad you fell in love with Dad. If you hadn’t, there’d be no me.”
Not tonight. She could not do this tonight. She must.
“Mum …?”
“I miss the city, Jess.” It would have to do. “I’m a city girl.”
“What happened? Before you had Alison and Angus?”
What happened?
“Mum!”
“Jess … I can’t. It’s too hard. Not tonight. Please … not tonight …”
“Tomorrow? When you’re not so tired?”
“Sure,” she lied. “You can tell Alison we’ve had our talk. There’s not a thing to worry about.”
“Promise you’ll get changed, and have a good sleep.” Jess kissed her. “I’ll talk to Alison and Angus in the morning. Before they go back.”
Before he goes back.
It wasn’t too late!
The debacle at the cemetery did not have to be the end! Tomorrow she’d meet him at George’s house, before he left again. She’d get to know him. She wouldn’t hurt him. They’d become friends again. They’d always been friends. They’d always talked. Tomorrow she’d meet him again.
If he’s still there!
Quickly dismissing Jess, she changed into casual clothes, opened the door, surveyed the dim passageway and crept down the stairs. Exiting the house, she unlocked the car, set it in neutral, silently rolled down the slight incline onto River Drive and drove back to Barclay.
The doctor’s house was in darkness.
She rang the bell.
George Walker was limned against the passage light. “It’s you! I might have known.”
“Where is he?”
“Richard? You know where he is. He’s gone back to where he came from.” Arms braced against the door, he blocked her entry.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Go home, Gail.”
“You’re lying! There’s no plane.”
“He went on the train.”
In a sleeper where breakfast is served …
“Social Welfare is meeting him at Spencer Street. You’re too late, Gail.”
“Where does he live? You have to tell me.”
“You know better.”
“Is his memory really gone?”
“Look – it’s very late. You’re disturbing everybody. Tomorrow.”
“Tonight, George.” She tried to push past him into the house.
“You’re making a spectacle of yourself. Go home.”
“Is it true? He really doesn’t remember?”
“I really am sorry, Gail. It’s true. He remembers nothing of the old days. He doesn’t even remember his own mother as she was back then.”
“He remembers her from her visits to the asylum. After the operation. So she did visit him.”
“Occasionally, of course. When she could get away.”
“His mother?”
“I told …”
“And Jake? Jake visited.”
“That’s right. So what’s all this about?”
“What about his father. What about Gus and Ryan?”
He was wary. “Do we really have to go into all this right now?”
“I’m not going to go away, George.”
“Gus never went. You’re right. Gus never went. I wouldn’t know about Ryan.”
“But Gus knew he was alive?”
“He knew. He just couldn’t stand to see him like that.”
“Is Rick at the Calthorpe Clinic?”
“That I can answer.”
“So he’s not there.”
“Not for years.”
They hadn’t lied. Lies and half-lies, no truths. “Why did the shock of me asking about Rick cause Gus’s collapse?”
“Who knows? Gus was on borrowed time anyway.”
“Do you think he was shocked that I’d found out?”
“I wouldn’t know. Honestly.” He was very uncomfortable. “I doubt it’s that simple.”
“I didn’t expect it would be.”
“Please.” He glanced nervously into the dark interior of the house. “This is ridiculous. It’s too late. I’ll see you tomorrow. It’ll wait.”
“Maybe,” she argued. “But I can’t wait. I’ve waited far too long.”
“I really can’t. My father …”
“Damn you! Nothing’s changed! You both jump when the Campbells say jump!”
Hurriedly, he stepped aside. “You’d better come in.”
Not waiting for him, she opened the door to the tiny office with the tall filing cabinet. The curtains were drawn, the desk lamp the only light. On the desk were an open notebook and a pen. She’d disturbed him at work.
He followed, softly closing the door behind him.
“Don’t worry,” she sneered, “your father’s probably too drunk to hear us.”
“That’s unnecessary,” he rebuked. “My father and I have always acted in your family’s best interests. The whole family, yourself not excluded. In the interests of all of you.”
“As Jake persuaded you to understand them. Or was it Amy?”
“As my father understood them.”
“Get real, George! Jake’s pulled the wool over your eyes too!”
“You’re hysterical.”
“Damned right I’m hysterical. Wouldn’t you be!”
“What are you really here for?” He closed the notebook and pocketed the pen.
“The truth. I’m here for the truth. What actually happened?”
“You know the truth. Why don’t you accept it and get on with your life?”
“Tell me again.”
“I’m not sure if that’s …”
“I’m not leaving, George.” She sat in the visitor’s chair.
“Okay!” Resigned, he took the chair behind the desk. “If you promise
to keep your voice down.”
If there was more to know, this was the time.
“Okay,” he repeated. “If this is what you want, I’ll tell you again. Rick had a violent attack. He was institutionalised. Jake married you to legitimise the child. Satisfied?”
“Nowhere near.”
“You know as much as I know.”
“Did you know Jake did a deal to get his hands on Rick’s share of the land?”
“Of course not. How would I know about that? I’ve been away.”
“Did your father know? Of course he did.”
“Even if he did, what’s your point? It’s not relevant.”
“Not relevant?” She was scornful. “Everything’s relevant. He’s still at it. Even tonight. Gus isn’t even cold and Jake’s selling his property.”
“That’s your husband, I’m afraid.”
“Precisely. Always has been. So what deal did he and your father make?”
“I resent the …”
“For Christ’s sake, George! Grow up!”
“Sh …”
“Trust me. There was a deal. He made a deal with me. He made a deal with your father.” She sat forward, but said no more. He needed time.
The creaking of old timbers, the discordant rhythm of a lumbering lorry on its way to predawn market, the faintest rustle of clothing as he shifted his body on the chair behind the desk. His father was a drunk, maybe even a criminal. He needed time.
But impatience won. “Jake got his inheritance. What did your father get?”
“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know.”
“He’d already covered for the family. When Rick was violent, why wasn’t he locked up? Or restrained? Or …? Why was he …?”
“It’s done,” he interrupted. “Let it go.”
“Didn’t he want to come home? Back then? After the operation. Didn’t he want to come home?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Why did it go on? He could have come home. He could have lived with his family. Why weren’t we told the truth?”
“I don’t know!”
“What about now? If he came home, wouldn’t he learn to remember?”
“That I do know. Too many years have …”
“It was Jake, wasn’t it?”
“Gail – please! Go home!” He was distraught. “They did it for the best of reasons. You have to believe that.”
“The best of their reasons. What about Rick? What about me?”
“I don’t think you figured in their calculations, except for the baby. As for Rick – who’s to know? Even if he’d come home, he’d not have been capable of coping with the responsibilities of a family. At least Jake did well by you.”
She and Jess had been safe, were still safe. Careful!
“You have a good life, Gail. Go home.”
Jake had rescued her. Pandora’s box should stay locked. Rick lived and was happy; within heartbreaking limitations he was happy. Leave well alone.
“Okay?” George Walker started from his chair.
“I will be. Thank you.”
“I’ll see you out.” George Walker held open the office door.
“I’m sorry if I …”
“It’s okay.” His eyes, for a moment, a blink, flickered to the locked filing cabinet.
“You’re hiding something!”
“I assure you …”
“No more lies!”
“I promise you …”
Wrenching the door from his grasp, she re-closed it.
“You’re imagining things.”
“Bullshit!”
“Honestly.”
“Shut up!”
“You must stop this.”
“The lobotomy! It’s the lobotomy!”
He blanched.
What about the lobotomy? A single question, if answered, and she’d have the truth. What was the question?
He crossed the room, unlocked the cabinet, set Rick’s file in her shaking hands, and again sat behind his desk.
“It’s about the operation,” she declared. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”
He did not answer, he did not have to.
What was the question?
She opened the file. She’d been through it, she’d lived and relived every single shocking word of it. She went through it again.
“It’s no use.” She returned the file to the cabinet. “It’s no..”
“I’ll see you out.” Pressing relieved hands on the desk, he levered himself tiredly upright. “I’ll see you out. Jake will be worrying.”
Jake!
He started around the desk.
“Jake,” she whispered.
“You mustn’t.”
“Who authorised the operation, George?”
He sighed.
“That’s it, isn’t it?”
“You’re jumping to conclusions. You mustn’t.”
“Jake ordered it, didn’t he. Jake wanted Rick out.”
“You’re assuming he had more power than he had.”
“Am I?”
“You have to understand,” he begged. “In those days. You have to understand.”
“Oh yes, Doctor. I do understand. Jake didn’t want his brother to be cured.”
“No one expected a cure. They were advised …”
“He wanted him right out of it. He couldn’t kill him. No! So he had the perfect solution. And your father helped him!”
“In those days …”
“For Christ’s sake! Shut up about those days!”
“You’re working yourself up again! Please!”
“I saw him. I saw what they did to him. I saw what Jake let them do to him.”
“You’ll make yourself ill.”
“Why didn’t someone stop it? Amy? Gus?”
He poured straight whisky. “Drink it. I’ll drive you home.”
She shoved it away.
“You mustn’t blame them, Gail. He was out of his mind! They acted on the best advice at the time.”
“It wasn’t necessary! I knew him.”
“You don’t know.”
“Go on.”
“It’s history, Gail.”
“Tell me! It was Jake! Someone had to …”
The door crashed open.
“What’s all this flaming noise?” Doctor Walker senior stank of whisky.
“It’s Mrs Campbell, Dad,” George placated. “She’s just leaving …”
“Rick Campbell’s operation, Doctor,” she demanded. “Who authorised it?”
He blinked into the light. “Get out of here!”
“I’m going nowhere, Doctor.”
The old man looked to his son. “What the hell is this all about?”
“It’s history, Dad. Leave it alone.”
His eyes lit up. “History’s what you want it to be.”
“Dad! Go to bed!”
“You want history, girl?” He was drunkenly gleeful. “There’s history, and there’s history. Whose version would you like?”
“The truth about the lobotomy,” she pressed. “Who authorised it?” “Jake did that. You know he did.”
“Thank you,” she prepared to leave. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”
“You knew that!” George cried. “Why do you have to put us through this?”
“I didn’t know it. I guessed. It’s not the same.”
“Clever miss,” the old man hissed. “Too clever for your own good.
You know it all, don’t you?”
Acutely tuned, she asked. “What is it I haven’t guessed?”
“You never did give credit where credit’s due, young lady.”
“Who have I missed?”
The old man reached for her untouched drink.
“Go to bed, Dad,” George urged. “Let it alone.”
“There’s something else,” she insisted. “What have I missed?”
The old man drained the glass, set it down beside the bottle.
“
That’s it, Dad. Go back to bed.” The son removed the bottle from his father’s reach.
The father retrieved the bottle, refilled his glass, and triumphantly spat. “You’ve missed your mother-in-law.”
“Please Dad. You shouldn’t.”
“Your mother-in-law saved your bacon. If it wasn’t for her you’d have been on the streets.”
“You’re lying.”
“It’s true,” George escorted his father, nursing bottle and glass, from the room.
The sounds of a struggle and the voice of the carer preceded his return. “Please,” he begged. “You should leave …”
“Amy sent Jake to marry me, didn’t she.”
“I warned you …”
“Tell me what I have to know and I’ll be gone.”
“Amy wanted Rick’s child brought up within the family. The baby was all she would have of Rick. She couldn’t bear to have it aborted. Or to lose it. Her problem was that you came with the child. Tough, because you didn’t fit in. Never could. Never would, from Amy’s point of view. But Jake’s marriage to you secured Jessica’s place in the family.”
“She’d keep Rick’s child close. She thought I’d leave? I’ll bet she did. She’d know I couldn’t stand living with Jake. Jess is a Campbell. She’d make sure I never took her from them.”
“I guess I wouldn’t know about that.”
“It bloody near worked. I damn near left. He raped me.”
Clever Amy. In one simple negotiation she’d kept Rick’s child in the family, ensured Jake wouldn’t marry Flo, and used Jake’s talents to enhance the family’s wealth and power. She’d used his ambition to tempt him. If he attempted to hurt the family, or its reputation, she’d have the ammunition to bring him down. Clever Amy. But was Jake more clever? More devious?
“Was that it?” she asked. “For marrying me, Jake was given Rick’s share of the property. And power of attorney for Rick? And God knows what else?”
“You’re making yourself ill.”
He led her from the house. She didn’t protest, she’d learned what she’d come to learn. Verified what she’d come to verify.
They were at the front gate, his tired face lit by the street lamp, the houses opposite midnight dark, the midnight moon a rising sickle in the huge sky. About to open the gate, she hesitated.
“Leave it alone, Gail. Go home.”
One last question. “That last time Rick lost control.”
“Leave it, Gail!”
“I’ll go to the newspapers!”
“They won’t listen, not here in Belleville.”
“Belleville! It’s not the centre of the bloody universe!”
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