“It wasn’t awful!”
“Yes it was. You shouldn’t have had all those frills and stuff. You should have kept things simple like Fiona.”
Kim banged a packet of cereal down on the table. “You arrogant, rude, chauvinist!”
“No, I’m honest. And I said you look nice now, didn’t I? You don’t wear fancy dresses every day, do you? So I’m saying that you look good more often than you don’t.”
She went over to the dresser and took plates and mugs off the shelves.
“I can’t wait to see your horses,” he said, disconcerted by her silence.
“The invitation has been withdrawn. You can go straight back to Queensland.”
“Okay.” He looked sardonic. “Can I have some breakfast first?”
She glared at him.
“I’m not a chauvinist. I’m the first one to admit that you’re brainier than me. I’ve got no gripe with women going to uni. They shouldn’t be tied to the house, it makes them dull. I don’t mind you being mad with me either, it shows you’ve got spirit.”
She smiled.
“That’s better. So, can we go riding today?”
“Yes. Help me set the table.”
Kingower
September 1972
Tree’s wedding dress was abysmal. It had a straight skirt which made her look taller and skinner than ever. A fuller skirt and slightly puffed sleeves would have suited her. Her head-dress was the crescent moon shape that Anne Boleyn used to wear. It was satin and sewn with seed pearls, but although it was lovely it was too high for someone of her height, and the Tudor and modern styles clashed. Kim’s bridesmaid’s dress was supposed to be dusky pink, but it looked more dirty than dusky.
I must stop being negative. It sounds spiteful. The hymns and wedding marches were stirring and the quartet they’d hired for the reception played a good variety of music. The caterers were efficient and the food was delicious. A farmer, whose valuable breeding bull Catriona saved earlier in the year, paid for the three tier wedding cake, which was horseshoe-shaped. What an original and fitting touch.
The homestead was decked in superb floral arrangements, mainly daffodils and irises which were the flowers in Tree’s bouquet. As that was the dominant colour scheme, Kim’s dress should have been blue or yellow. The weather was fine with a cool breeze. All the windows in the dining room were open and there were tables and chairs in the garden.
I thought that it was going to be a huge wedding and they were going to hire a marquee, but there were not as many people as I expected. I asked Dad if he knew why, but he is as puzzled as I am. Aunty Ruth doesn’t know either. I hope they’re not having financial trouble. Stefan looked distracted, he was probably overwhelmed by all the fuss.
Tom is impressed by Kingower. I also think he’s impressed by Kim! I hope he is. We’re all going for a ride this afternoon.
Mum looked happier and so did Dad, but she’s too thin. I was watching them at the reception. They were together most of the night. Sometimes when Mum looked at Dad, she was like a star-struck schoolgirl.
Fiona nudged Ruth when she saw Tom holding Kim’s hand as they walked through the forest after lunch the next day. “Isn’t it exciting?”
“You’re pleased?”
“Yes. If they got together maybe we could be friends again.”
“Kim’s so cynical she might think that you’ll try and turn him against her.”
“I won’t. I’ll be happy if they start going out together. I want things to be like they were when we were young. At last everything’s going in the right direction. Mum and Dad look like newlyweds and guess what? Juju and Keith are in love. Eleanor’s a bit concerned about them being cousins, but I don’t think it matters. Cousins are allowed to marry, so there can’t be much risk of — Aunty Ruth,” cried Fiona in alarm. “Aunty Ruth!”
Kingower
September 1972
Aunty Ruth fainted yesterday. Anyone would think she’d been bitten by a snake the way Kim and Uncle David panicked. We brought her back to the homestead, but she refused to let us call a doctor. She snapped at poor Kim. “I fainted, I didn’t have a stroke or a heart attack.” Today Aunty Ruth’s looking preoccupied, but says she’s just tired. I hope that’s all it is. She’s promised to have a check-up when she goes back to Melbourne.
Tom and Kim are getting on fantastically. Maybe she’ll come to Eumeralla for a holiday. She and Tom are suited to each other. If they married she’d be my sister-in-law. That would heal our rift, especially if she knows I’m keen on the union. There’s no way she’d think I’d want to seduce my own brother. I’m sure Eleanor would like her too.
It’s strange here without Tree. It’s the first time I’ve been on Kingower when she’s not around. I hope she and Stefan are having a wonderful honeymoon.
Mum’s just been in to tell me that she and Dad are back together again. Dad is going back to Sydney with her. She said that although she’s been distraught it’s been good for her. I’m glad they are not getting divorced and Mum does seem to have learnt a lesson. Tom and I are going to Sydney instead of Melbourne.
***
When Tom saw Vaucluse, with its hilly streets, trees and lush front gardens, he revised his opinion about suburbs. Virginia and Alex lived in a house that had been built in 1900 and there was a spectacular view of the harbour from the back garden. Inside were thick carpets, velvet or brocade curtains and antique furniture. They went to Doyle’s Restaurant in WatsonsBay and chose an outside table on the beach.
“I’ve never seen the sea before,” he confessed as he gazed at the crescent moon’s reflection on the water.
The next day, Fiona took him on a ferry from RoseBay across the harbour to Sydney’s Circular Quay. “If I had to live in a city I’d choose this one,” he said as they sailed past all the green coves and bays. He pointed. “What’s that thing?”
Fiona looked at him in astonishment. “The Opera House. It’s famous, it’s opening next year. You must have heard of it.”
He shook his head. “It’s amazing.”
“So are the dramas. They began building it thirteen years ago. It should have taken three years to finish, but the architect had a fight with the government and resigned. It’s financed by the Opera House Lottery.” She became serious. “There was a terrible tragedy. The son of one of the first winners was kidnapped. When the ransom was paid the boy was murdered – he was only eight.”
“I heard about that. It was on the news. They caught the man, didn’t they?”
“Yes. He said he didn’t mean to kill him, but he’d threatened to throw him to the sharks.”
“They should have hung him.”
Thirty minutes later they walked through the crowded city streets.
Tom looked up at the skyscrapers. “I feel hemmed in, Sis. Can we go somewhere quiet?”
She took him into the Botanical Gardens. They sat on the grass with sandwiches and iced coffee they had bought from the kiosk.
“I like your cousin,” he said. “What’s funny?” he asked when she smiled.
“You’re so frank. City men would have brought up the subject of Kim more subtly.”
“Do you reckon she’d come to Eumeralla for a holiday?”
“Ask her.”
“I don’t know.” He felt troubled. “I’ve never lived anywhere else and when I stayed with school friends in town I pitied them because they lived in such a tiny place. Apart from Acacia, most of the properties round us are much the same as ours, but now I’ve stayed at Kingower and your parents’ house I’ve seen real luxury. Not trash like that new homestead on Acacia, but the sort of things I’d buy if I was rich. I’d hate Kim to despise me.”
“She’s not a snob, Tom, and she won’t despise you. No one would. They’d not be worth anything if they did.”
“What do you reckon she’ll think about our toilet?”
Fiona grinned. “She’ll envy Keith his shovel.”
Part Three
THE TRUTH
September 1972
to
February 1973
CHAPTER 20
“Fiona.”
Catriona froze. She opened her eyes and saw Stefan’s face. “What did you say?”
He turned his head into her shoulder.
“You called me Fiona.”
“I’m sorry, Tree.”
“Get off me,” she hissed, shoving him away. Jumping out of bed she ran into the bathroom and turned on the shower. When she came out, wrapped in the white hotel towel, he was sitting slumped on the bed. He had put on his dressing gown.
“Tree,” he said, standing up and holding out his arms.
She dodged out of his way, grabbed her nightdress and pulled it on. “Don’t touch me. Don’t come near me,” she said through gritted teeth, as she strode to the door leading onto their private balcony.
“I can explain.”
She spun round. “Go on then.”
“It was a sort of joke. I started to say ‘Tree,’ but got muddled and meant to say, ‘Catriona,’ like that little girl at the wedding did, you remember, pronouncing the o. She sounded so cute.”
She longed to believe him, but he was so transparent. If that had been the truth he would have been laughing about it and looking foolish instead of desolate. “Good try, Stefan.” She went onto the balcony. He didn’t follow her.
It was the fourth day of their honeymoon. Until that moment she had been blissfully happy. Everything had begun so well. As soon as they left Kingower Stefan had relaxed. The days had been an idyll. They had swum, snorkelled, sunbathed on the beach or made love. The sun was warm and not too hot and she had a pale golden tan. Stefan’s olive skin glowed with health. Their room was luxurious and overlooked the sea. The hotel served delicious food and they feasted on freshly caught fish, and pineapple, mangoes and pawpaws. Owing to the absence of vegetarian dishes in restaurants and hotels, Catriona always ate fish when she went out.
“I bet you’re glad there’s no vegetarian choice,” Stefan had teased her on their first night when she ordered barramundi. “It gives you an excuse to forgo your principles for two weeks.” He lifted his champagne glass to hers. “I admire you, Tree,’ he had said as he poured out the champagne. “More than anyone I’ve ever known.”
She had wondered then if she was imagining the regret in his tone. ‘Now I know I wasn’t,’ she thought. She sat on the balcony waiting for the dawn. Through the open door she heard Stefan tossing and turning, getting out of bed and pacing the room. Once he came out and looked at her beseechingly. When she shook her head he went back inside and the cycle of pacing and getting in and out of bed began again. It gave her satisfaction that he was as sleepless as she was.
The following morning they tried to appear normal when they went down to breakfast. In the afternoon they sat in a glass-bottomed boat with the other tourists gazing at the vivid corals and brilliantly coloured tropical fish, which darted in and out of the reef. Catriona tried to listen to what the guide was saying. ‘Fiona, Fiona, Fiona.’ The words sang in her mind as she stared into the water attempting to banish the memory. Stefan reached out and put his arm comfortingly around her. ‘The gesture from a friend, not a lover,’ she thought.
The boat pulled into the jetty. He helped her out, guiding her away from the other passengers. They strolled along the beach.
He kissed her hand. “I’m sorry, Tree.”
She looked up into the gently stirring palms. ‘This is paradise,’ she thought. ‘We’re two people suffering. We should be two lovers loving.’
He squeezed her fingers. “Let’s go for a walk.” When they reached a secluded cove he stopped. “I’m a bastard.”
Catriona looked at her feet, which were powdered with fine white sand. “Do you want a divorce?” she asked.
“No.”
“A separation?”
“No.”
She fixed her eyes on a sailing boat near the horizon. “What do you want?”
“Us to be happy.”
“You and me?” She swallowed. “Or you and Fiona?”
“You and me. I want to erase her from my mind, but it’s hard. If only I didn’t have to see her again – ”
“If you’d been honest with me in June, I would have broken our engagement. I would have been unhappy, but not as much as I am now. I could have been going out with someone else instead of being married to a man who thinks about Fiona while he’s making love to me.”
“No, Tree, I don’t.”
“You did last night. So why didn’t you tell me how you felt about her?”
“I didn’t want to lose you. I still don’t.”
She folded her arms. “If we get divorced, I won’t tell anyone about Fiona. I’ll tell them you were impotent or I discovered you were a homosexual.”
He laughed. “I love your sense of humour.”
“I wish you loved me.” She ran down to the water, trying to blink away the tears that flooded her eyes. “Damn you men,” she cried when he caught up with her. “Why do you all have to fall for her?”
“I’m sorry, Tree.”
“Stop saying sorry!” She pushed him away. “I don’t want your pity. I want your love.”
“You’ve got that – and a whole lot more too. Respect and admiration.”
“But someone else has got your love as well as me.”
“I don’t know that she has. It’s probably just lust.”
She wiped away her tears. “Lust’s easily cured ... supposedly. You just gratify it.”
“That would mean being unfaithful to you and I couldn’t live with that.”
“I could if it cured you.”
He took her face in his hands. “It’s our honeymoon and we’ve discussed divorce, separation and unfaithfulness.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “Can we combat this together, Tree?”
“Your fixation with her is nothing to do with me.” She tossed her head and broke away from his hold. “We’ve been married less than a week and already we’ve got another woman haunting us.” She pulled off her white T-shirt revealing her bikini top. “I’m going for a swim.”
“Can I join you or do you want to get away from me? I’ll understand if you do. I wish I could get away from myself.”
She gazed at his remorseful face in despair. “Our friends think we’re so lucky. My parents like you, you like them – I like your parents and they like me. We own an attractive house and in a few years we’ll be able to afford an even better one. We’ve got no worries at all ... except your obsession with Fiona.”
Eumeralla
October 1972
June and Keith are getting married next May. We’re all so excited. Gabby’s going to be the matron of honour and I’m going to be the bridesmaid. As soon as Keith and June told us, Gabby mysteriously said that she had something old for Juju. She came back the next day with the tiara that Eleanor, Francesca, Mum and then Gabby wore on their wedding day. Now all June has to do is find a dress that does it justice.
Kim’s arriving in two weeks. Perhaps when she’s away from Kingower and the memories of our past we can forge a new friendship.
Eleanor and June were sitting on the verandah looking through the wedding magazines Hazel had bought.
“I don’t like any of these,” said June. “They’re too fussy. And the prices ... I don’t want to spend all that for something I’ll only wear once.” She looked at the tiara Eleanor had placed on the table to gauge what dress would look best with it. “Those pearls look real.”
“They are,” said Eleanor. “And so are the diamonds. It was part of the haul that made the Clarksons rich.”
“Keith said they sold all the jewels in London and bought Acacia with the money.”
“They sold most of them. The tiara was one of the pieces they kept as a memento. And I suppose they had to have some jewellery to support their claim to be aristocracy. There were cuff links too, but I don’t know what happened to them. Margot’s got the pearl necklace and r
uby and diamond brooch.”
“The horrible stepmother?”
“Contrary to what you’ve heard from Keith and Fiona, she was very kind.”
June pushed the magazines away. “Have you still got your wedding dress?”
“Yes, presuming you mean my first one.”
“Could I wear it?”
Eleanor often opened the suitcase when she was alone and took out the dress, but not wanting June to know the depth of her feelings for Jonathan, she said, trying to sound vague, “If I can remember where I put it. But it’s probably moth-eaten.”
June looked disappointed. “Maybe it wasn’t a good idea. Dad might be hurt.”
“I doubt it,” Eleanor said, pushing back her chair. “He’ll be grateful that he won’t have to spend money on a new one. Let’s have a look. It’s more your style ... very plain. We got married in the winter too so it’s got long sleeves.”
The suitcase was on top of the wardrobe. Relishing the feeling that there was no need to be furtive, Eleanor took it down. “I think it’s in here,” she said, opening the clasps. It lay among tissue paper and cakes of lavender soap.
“It looks perfect,” June said when Eleanor lifted it out and gently shook it. Made of polished Egyptian cotton it had a square neckline and a full skirt. “It’s divine – more elegant than anything in the magazines. It must have cost a fortune.”
“Margot made it for me.”
“She sure could sew,” said June, stepping out of her shorts.
Eleanor chuckled. “She knew that, left to myself, I’d turn up to the church in jodhpurs. ‘Eleanor,’ she said, ‘You’ll have to have a full skirt, because you’re such a hoyden, you’re bound to dash about in your wedding dress and I don’t want you falling over.’ She was convinced that I was going to run down the aisle so she gave me deportment lessons.”
Eumeralla - Secrets, Tragedy and Love Page 27