Eumeralla - Secrets, Tragedy and Love

by Joanna Stephen-Ward

  Fiona was startled. “I didn’t know you’d had a miscarriage.”

  Margot stood up and went to the window. Guessing that she was trying to curb her tears Fiona stayed silent.

  “I had two.”

  When Margot turned round, Fiona asked gently, “Is that why you lied about Johnny being a coward?”

  Margot shook her head. “One of the boys had to stay on the land. Johnny and Laurence tossed a coin to decide who would go and who would stay. They did it on the verandah and I heard. I was looking for a book to read. This time I did eavesdrop. I hoped it would be Johnny who went. He hated me even though Eleanor liked me. Laurence, being married to Francesca, tried to control his feelings and I hoped that with Johnny gone and Virginia in Sydney Laurence might come round to liking me. So I listened. Johnny picked and Laurence threw. It landed heads. Johnny had chosen tails which meant he had to go. But he told Laurence that he was frightened. So Laurence said he’d go. Johnny was ashamed. He called himself a coward. They told their father that the coin had decided that Laurence had to go. I used Johnny’s fears to convince myself that he was worthless. Being hated by a coward is not as bad as being hated by someone brave.

  “I didn’t tell William, but I wrote and told David. When I heard about the way Johnny died I didn’t tell David. I just said he died in a fire. Virginia was too distressed to ever talk about it so it went on for years till you found out. When Kim and Catriona were upset about the effect you were having on their boyfriends I told them your real father was a coward because he wouldn’t enlist when the war was declared. I didn’t know they’d told you, but I don’t suppose I would have cared if they had. I’ll never forget your rejection. Being loathed by a child who once loved me was painful, but I should have weighed things up.”

  Fiona was silent for a while. She wondered why she had disregarded the fact that Alex, Kim and Catriona had adored Margot. ‘I should have listened to Eleanor,’ she thought. Finally she said, “I’m sorry I hurt you. Actually, in many ways Johnny was despicable. He left Eleanor because he thought she couldn’t have children. And he was unfaithful.”

  “Unfaithful? Who told you that?”

  “Eleanor. Didn’t you know?”

  “No.”

  Fiona looked thoughtful. “You seem surprised.”

  “I am.”

  “Funny. So was Mum. Still, Eleanor must be right. Why didn’t you go and visit her when Johnny left?”

  “I did – several times, but she wasn’t there. I searched for her, but I couldn’t find her. William and I were worried. The first time I went over to Eumeralla someone was with her.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know ... I didn’t see them, but there were two places laid for breakfast on the verandah. The next couple of times I went the place was deserted. I left a note on the table, but she never replied, so I thought I must have said or done something to upset her. A month later she arrived at Acacia with you and June.”

  “She didn’t get your note. She told me she was too ill to go to Acacia and I asked her why no one from Acacia had visited her. It must have blown away.”

  “It shouldn’t have – I put it under a jar of honey. I remember doing it. There was nothing on the table so I went into the kitchen and took a jar out of the cupboard. She must have forgotten about it.” Margot looked at the clock. “And now we’d better go to bed – tomorrow is going to be a very distressing day.”

  Fiona stood up. “I understand now ... about how you felt. I’m sorry, Aunty Margot.”

  “So am I. Sorry for a lot of things. Good night, my dear.”

  ***

  On the morning of Kim’s funeral Stefan stood by the windows in the lounge watching for the cars to arrive and take them to the church. Toby sat at Margot’s feet. He jumped up expectantly when he heard someone arriving and whimpered when he saw they were not Kim. When she had gone to Queensland Stefan had been amused how profoundly Toby had missed her. He had been fussed over, comforted and told that she was coming back soon. Now Margot just stroked his head.

  When they arrived at the church he saw that the ground had been prepared for the memorial garden. People’s donations of rose bushes, azaleas and other small shrubs were on trestle tables in the shade ready to be planted. As they entered the porch Stefan thought they were too early before realizing that the church was so packed people were standing at the back. Kim’s friends from school and university, her colleagues and people from the district crowded into the pews. On the coffin, devoid of flowers, was her riding hat. During the hymns and eulogy most of the congregation sobbed broken-heartedly. Even the choir from Kim’s old school faltered during the anthem.

  When the service ended they all went over to the memorial garden. The first card that the vicar read out was attached to Tom’s yellow rose bush.

  Magic, I’ll remember you always. You were magic. Love, Tom.

  Catriona’s self control broke and she began to weep. Stefan put his arm around her praying that she found some solace from his presence.

  Melbourne

  January 1973

  All I can think about are the good times Kim, Tree and I had when we were children. I know that Kim rode Devil because I went on the ride, but no one is blaming me. I got blamed when I was innocent and exonerated when the guilt was mine. Uncle David is blaming himself for suggesting that Kim could conquer Devil and for not insisting that he be destroyed when it became plain that he was not responding to her. Devil has been put down. Catriona did it. She said it’s the only time she’s felt pleased to be killing an animal.

  Aunty Ruth is getting worse. It’s the shock. She’s on morphine and keeps begging me to ring her solicitors as soon as she dies. She’s so agitated about it that I looked in her address book and found their phone number. I rang them just to make sure they were the right ones. They are. They put me onto the senior partner and he knew what I was talking about. He has something to give me as soon as she dies. She keeps talking about old sins and long dark shadows.

  Today I resigned from QANTAS. It’s not fair that I’m away so much and I want to spend as much time with Aunty Ruth as I can. They were very good about it and said that they can arrange for me to take unpaid leave, but I said no. As I’m going to England soon anyway I’ve got a lot of preparation to do.

  Before the school term began in February, Stefan took Catriona away on a holiday to Ballarat, which was famous for its goldfields a century ago. They visited the old Kingower diggings where her ancestor had made his fortune. The hotel in which they were staying packed them a picnic basket every morning. During the day they walked beside creeks and gullies. In the evening they dined at the hotel. Catriona seldom spoke, but her silence was not hostile.

  On the third day of their holiday, as he was spreading the rug on the grass by a stream, Catriona said, “You’re being very kind to me, Stefan.”

  He was pleased that she had initiated a conversation. “You deserve my kindness. I’ve caused you a lot of unhappiness.” He sat beside her.

  She opened the lid of the picnic basket. “We have to talk.”

  “Yes.” Unable to look at her he stared at the water. He had planned what he wanted to say, but found himself unprepared. “Tree, I’ll understand if you want a divorce,” he began, dreading that she would tell him that she did. “If you do, I’ll make it easy for you. You can keep everything.” He dared to look at her. “But I don’t want a divorce and if you’ll give me another chance, I’d be very happy.” He wondered if he could touch her, but decided against it. If she pulled away it would render him incapable of pleading his case coherently. He would say mawkish things and she would decide that he was not worth the effort. ‘Which I’m not,’ he thought.

  “What about Fiona?” she asked in a detached voice.

  “My infatuation for her died when I knew something dreadful had happened. I didn’t think about her ... only you. My fear was for you.” He was compelled by her silence to add. “It was infatuation ... my judgement was addle
d.” His hope that she would understand was dashed by the way her eyes coolly scrutinized his face.

  “That night you came home from Christmas shopping – did you mean what you said?” She sounded like a lawyer cross-examining a witness.

  He was tempted to lie, but knew that the result of their discussion had to be based on the truth. He nodded. “At the time. I’m sorry I said it. I was angry with you for trying to throw me at Fiona. I was trying so hard to get her out of my mind.”

  “She’s going to England.” Catriona looked in the box and picked out an egg and tomato sandwich. “You could follow her.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Why not? Is it because if she turns you down you’ve lost both of us? I’m not convinced that you are over her. You just feel sorry for me, but the worst thing that could have happened to me has happened. Kim’s dead. Divorcing you would be nothing compared to this. I think we should separate, because if you go to England and meet up with Fiona, you might be happy.”

  But he knew that the likelihood of her considering him as a love interest was negligible. Fiona had a puritanical streak that would forbid her having a relationship with the divorced husband of her cousin. Her loyalty to Catriona was ironic. “Tree, the major reason I fell for Fiona was because when I first saw her she was so different to what you and Kim had led me to believe.” He touched her hand to silence her protest. “Darling, I’m not blaming you, I’m just telling you how it was from my point of view. And that lunch – it wasn’t just an ordinary family Sunday lunch, was it? I don’t think watching a play could have been more dramatic. And in a lot of ways that’s what I was doing ... watching a play.”

  Catriona smiled wryly. “And the leading lady gave you a part when she asked you to read out that newspaper article about her real father.” She threw crusts to a couple of sparrows. Her indifference was daunting.

  “I don’t want to lose you, Tree.” He knew he sounded desperate, but no longer cared. “Before I met you I’d been out with lots of girls and not one of them touched me the way you did. Compared to you the others were trite. After I met you I felt excited for the first time since I’d left university. Often on a first date I’d be reduced to talking about the weather. With you everything was easy – you fascinated me. You were clever and unique. You still are. I want us to start again – if you can forgive me. I know it’ll be more than I deserve, but ...”

  Catriona picked up a stick and idly drew figures in a bare patch of earth. “Are you sure? You’re being kind to me because I’ve lost Kim. What happens when your compassion dilutes and we’re back to having to live with each other in normality? Think hard, Stefan. But if you do go to England and it doesn’t work out, I won’t be like the heroine in a romance. I’ll never want to see you again and I’ll change my name back to Lancaster. With Fiona on the other side of the world I won’t have any competition from her. She’s cast a pall over our marriage and I’m not sure it can be dispelled.” She hurled the stick into the stream. “I’m not making it easy for you, but why should I?”

  “Oh, Tree,” he said despairingly.

  She covered her face with her hands. He only knew she was crying because her shoulders were heaving. He held her and felt her tears splashing onto his arm.

  “I’ve never felt so wretched,” she spluttered. “I miss Kim so much it’s agony. I want her to come and talk to me the way Oliver talked to her. At night I wait for her to speak to me, but she won’t. She’s gone.”

  He cuddled her till she stopped crying. “And you’re married to a spineless bastard,” he said, giving her a handkerchief.

  She wiped her eyes. “No. Whatever happens to us – I’ll never think of you like that.”

  “Dare I hope that you have some love left for me?”

  “Yes. Not just some ... lots.”

  He gently kissed her lips. “I love you. I always have. My feelings went awry, but they never died ... they got tangled.” He stroked her face. “They’re untangled now. I promise.”

  Catriona put her head on his shoulder. “You got mixed up in something you couldn’t fathom. And I can’t blame Fiona for everything. Perhaps I can’t blame her for anything.”

  ***

  “You’re doing great, Gabby,” said Tom as they rode toward the creek.

  Although he was conscientious about supervising her riding, she knew his mind was elsewhere. They dismounted to let the horses drink.

  Gabriella, remembering her own grief and the way she had rebuffed the gestures of support and comfort after Brett’s death decided she should try and get him to talk about it. “Kim meant a lot to you, didn’t she?”

  He nodded. “An animal caused her death and she was magic with animals – all except that one. Even when he bolted I wasn’t all that worried – I thought she was invincible. When they told us she was dead it was like watching a film where Superman gets killed.” He stopped stroking the horse and looked at her. “You’ve been through it all, haven’t you? Worse than this ... you were married.”

  She hoped their mutual feeling of loss might be a bond. “I know how you feel.”

  “It’s not as if I’d known her for long, but, you know what? I wanted to marry her. I’ve never wanted that before. If a girl so much as mentioned marriage I’d have a fit. I wanted to settle down eventually, but not till I was thirty. Kim was different. She was Magic.”

  After Brett’s death Gabriella had been disgusted when people had said, ‘You’ll find someone else. You’re young.’ ‘But just now I nearly said that to Tom,’ she thought.

  CHAPTER 25

  As soon as Ruth died Margot rang her solicitor. Three hours later he arrived at Kingower with a large envelope.

  “Your sister’s instructions were to hand this to Fiona Lancaster,” he told Margot when she answered the door.

  Thinking it was Ruth’s will and uncomfortable because she was the only beneficiary, Fiona took it down to the cottage so she could read it in private. She sat on the floor and tore open the flap. It wasn’t her will, but a letter dated October 1972.

  Darling Fiona,

  Most people think life is too short, but it’s not – it’s too long – much too long. I have six months at the most to live, but I hope I die before that.

  My happy childhood did not prepare me for misery. I did exceptionally well at school, was popular and rode well. Only my unfulfilled wish to be a doctor marred my existence. Then the war came and my torment began. No. It began before that, but if it hadn’t been for the war I would have got over it. There were lots of men my age so I probably would have married and been a wife and mother. At the end of the war there was a shortage of men. Some women had to go without and I was one of them – otherwise I might have been able to quell my desire for the man I really loved.

  We first met at Acacia. But he only saw my ethereal sister Francesca. Laurence. Proud, impetuous, unpredictable, idealistic, Laurence. It wasn’t just that he was handsome. It was his passion and the smile that started slowly and spread across his face. He never smiled just to be polite and that was what made his smiles special. His thoughts were transparent. He looked at Francesca like a man who is seeing heaven. At their wedding I behaved like a gracious sister and sister-in-law.

  But I was confident. Soon I’d meet a man and we would marry and my fervour for Laurence would wane, and we would be affectionate in-laws. I would not compete with Cheska because it was immoral and I was a good person. I never competed with her. Never by a look or a gesture did I expose how I felt.

  When she died in October 1945 I was heartbroken, but at the back of my mind was the hope that when Laurence came home he would turn to me. I knew I was betraying Cheska’s memory and felt guilty about these feelings, but it didn’t stop me having them.

  Virginia had to write to him because communications were down and we couldn’t send a telegram. But he didn’t get her letter. When he arrived in Melbourne on 1st November he was excited about seeing Francesca. She’d been dead for two weeks and I had to t
ell him. Our exchange of two words each, his ... ‘Where’s Cheska?’ And mine ... ‘She’s dead,’ were stabbed into my consciousness like a rusty knife. They’ve festered ever since. I was a nurse used to dealing with bereaved people. I should have made Laurence sit down, and broken the news gently, but I was so astounded that he hadn’t received the letter.

  You don’t know this. No one does. Everyone thinks he left the flat as soon as I’d told him, and disappeared. He did leave. That was true. But I ran after him. He walked fast and I had to run to keep up. I had no shoes on and as he strode down the pavement there was broken glass ahead. He stopped and told me to go home, but I was crying and that’s why he came back. Even in his own distraught state he couldn’t stand to see me crying. I poured him a brandy and I had one too. We got drunk. He had a lot more than I did and was much drunker than I was.

  That night the inevitable happened. How prudish that sounds now. We went to bed together? In 1945 that would have sounded crude. It still sounds crude to me. We made love? Well, he was drunk and called me Cheska. Yes, I suppose we did make love. I made love to him and he made love to Cheska.

  In the morning I woke first and left the bed. Cheska’s bed. Laurence woke later. He had a hangover and was sick all day. He wanted to think that me telling him Cheska had died was a nightmare. He had no idea what we’d done and I was too humiliated to say anything.

  He stayed for three days. We remained sober and I slept in my own room. When he said he was leaving I didn’t stop him. I asked if he was going to Acacia and he nodded. I offered to come to the station with him and told him he might not be able to get a ticket straightaway. He said that he was going to walk. I told him he couldn’t walk all the way to Spencer Street Station – it was too far.