Eumeralla - Secrets, Tragedy and Love

by Joanna Stephen-Ward

  He looked at me as if I’d gone a bit queer, but when he spoke he sounded patient and told me he was going to walk to Acacia. I knew he meant it even though Acacia was a thousand miles away. Laurence always did what he said, but I tried to talk him out of it. I can still remember our dialogue.

  He said, ‘I want to walk away all the pain. Do you think I’ll succeed?’

  ‘No. Laurence, this is madness.’

  ‘Yes. It was madness to think that now the war was over I could come home and settle down with Cheska, have children and be happy.’

  His expectation of happiness with Cheska had not been mad – it had been reasonable. But my fantasy that I could replace her had been a chimera. I’d thought in years not days. I’d imagined that we’d begin by comforting each other, talking about Cheska and the past, and gradually Laurence would fall in love with me.

  I gave him an atlas. He asked me if I minded if he tore out the maps of Victoria, New South Wales and Queensland. I told him I didn’t. We were so courteous to one another. Like strangers. He tore them out, put them in his kit bag and left.

  He did walk all the way. When he got to Brisbane he wrote to me. I enclose his letter with this. I didn’t tell anyone his intentions, mainly because I didn’t think he could walk all the way to Queensland and I didn’t want them to worry about him. And the story I told them left no room for discussions about where he was going or how he was going to get there. I just said that I told him about Francesca and he left. Liars have to keep their stories simple so they can remember them.

  When I became ill my family thought I was suffering from grief. Nowadays they’d have guessed I was pregnant. Fate was on my side. For the first sixteen weeks I was sick all day, so I lost weight instead of putting it on. No one knew – not even the nurses I worked with. As soon as the sickness stopped I gained weight. I had to get away. I left two weeks later.

  Eleanor and Johnny were desperate for children. In the early days of their marriage he had turned one of the rooms into a nursery and had bought a pram and cot. I remember Margot saying that it was tempting providence. I bought a car and drove to Eumeralla with the idea of hiding there and giving them the baby when it was born. But when I arrived Johnny had gone and the time for Eleanor to pretend the baby was conceived before he left was wrong. My expected date of delivery was 26th July 1946 and he had left Eumeralla at the beginning of September 1945. Eleanor knew the exact date. She told me that deaths are so traumatic we never forget them and Johnny’s leaving was the death of her marriage and her hopes of pregnancy. Cruelly, he left her the day after her period started.

  But we wondered if we could get away with it. I had done midwifery and knew three vital facts. Women can bleed but still be pregnant. And babies sometimes arrive early. And the gestation of a normal pregnancy is 38 weeks not 40, because the time is calculated from the first day of the last period not in the middle of the cycle. Few men realize that.

  Nevertheless, it was risky – with Margot, Laurence and William so close. We had a couple of frights. Margot visited several times so we hid. Luckily she rode so we heard her. If she’d walked we would have been caught. Knowing that she had seen the car the first time she came Eleanor drove it far away from the house and parked it behind some trees as soon as Margot left.

  We were right to be optimistic. I went into labour eight weeks early and Eleanor became the mother of twins. You were small, but healthy. Instead of leaving as soon as you were born, as I had planned, we decided I would breastfeed you because you were so premature. I was anxious to reappear as I knew everyone would be worried about me. Your early arrival made deception easier if we could work something out. I could have just turned up at Acacia, but if Margot remembered the car with its Victorian number plates parked at Eumeralla it would have been easy for her to work things out.

  It was Eleanor’s idea to forge the Melbourne postmark and date on an envelope containing a letter to Margot. She had letters from me that we copied, but it took six attempts before the postmark looked genuine. I wrote a letter telling Margot I was arriving in Brisbane and asking if she would meet me. We dropped it in Acacia’s post box one night. Because it was possible that she would see me at the station before the train arrived, I took the precaution of taking my cases, driving to the station before Brisbane and boarding the train there. When Margot met me she had no reason to think that I’d only travelled one stop.

  After hugging me and telling me she was pleased to see me, she told me that Eleanor had arrived at Acacia with twins. She was so excited. My midwifery training gave me a reason to stay on. Twelve weeks later, when I was sure that you were both thriving, I left. If I stayed any longer I’d never have been able to tear myself away.

  Deceit was easy because you strongly resembled the Clarksons. But as you grew up I saw things that no one else did. How true it is that people see what they think is there – not what really is. Your expressions and mannerisms were Francesca’s. It amazed me that David, Alex and Margot didn’t notice. Sometimes, when we were all together, you’d do or say something and I’d hold my breath, sure that they must see and realize the truth, but they never did. I’ve often asked myself if Laurence ever saw Francesca in you. Did he really know nothing of what happened that night or did he sometimes look at you and wonder?

  Eleanor and I vowed never to reveal our secret. But I have to break it because June and Keith want to get married. They are half-brother and sister. You told me the day after the wedding that they were in love. That’s why I fainted.

  I’m selfish enough to want everyone to think kindly of me. I’ll tell you all that I’ve got cancer and you will fuss over me and do your best to ensure my final days are pleasant. It doesn’t matter what you’ll say about me when I’m dead. I don’t believe in God or an afterlife. I hope there is nothing after death. I might have to pay for my sins. Instead others have to pay. Fiona, you’ve always paid for them. From the moment Virginia and Alex adopted you you’ve paid. June has to pay now. And so does Keith.

  Old sins cast long shadows. But did they have to be this long and this dark?

  Fiona let the last page drift to the floor. With trembling hands she picked up the enclosed letter with its faded writing and took it out of the envelope.

  Dear Ruth,

  I’m in Brisbane. It took me 50 days. I set myself a target of twenty miles a day and stuck to it. It was easy to find my way. I just followed the train line. Lots of people stopped to offer me a lift along the way, but I only accepted one because I was low on water. He took me twenty miles and dropped me at the next station so that saved me a day. You were right though, it didn’t take away the pain.

  Love,

  Laurence.

  Fiona imagined the man in uniform tramping one thousand miles trying to walk away his anguish. “My father,” she whispered. “Juju’s and mine. And Keith and Gabby’s. How am I going to tell them? God, help me.” She put her head in her hands and cried.

  The light was fading when she opened her journal and turned on the lamp. She had just written, How could Eleanor let Juju and Keith get married? when she heard a knock on the door.

  “Darling,” said Alex. “Dinner’s ready. We’re waiting for you.” He handed her a handkerchief. “Dry your eyes. Ruth wouldn’t have wanted you to suffer like this.”

  “She was my mother.”

  “Yes, she was like a mother to you, wasn’t she? Come up to the homestead. They’re waiting to serve dinner.”

  She found it difficult to speak. “Dad, you don’t understand.”

  Alex went inside and looked worriedly at Fiona.

  “Ruth gave birth to me and Juju at Eumeralla. That’s where she went when she disappeared. She wasn’t having a breakdown, she was pregnant.”

  Alex shook his head. “She was only away three months and she wasn’t pregnant when she left.” He stared in bewilderment at the pile of paper on the floor. “Is that what was in the envelope?”

  Fiona nodded.

  “Darling, it w
asn’t possible.”

  “It was. It is. We were born eight weeks early.” Fiona saw that he was doing mental calculations.

  “It’s still not possible. I saw her a week before she disappeared. She wasn’t pregnant.”

  She picked up Ruth’s letter and put the pages in order. “Read it.”

  Alex sat down and put on his glasses. Fiona watched his changing expressions.

  “God,” he said when he had finished. “Poor Ruth.” He looked at Fiona’s tear-stained face. “This has been a terrible shock for you. Your life seems to have been a series of shocks.”

  “Alex?” called Margot. Kim’s dog preceded her into the room. “We rang from the house. Is the phone out of order?”

  Alex picked it up. “No dial tone.”

  “Aunty Ruth’s my mother,” said Fiona. She smiled. “Dad, you’re my uncle ... my real uncle. I’m happy about that.”

  Margot frowned. “She can’t be.”

  “You’d better sit down, Margot,” said Alex giving her the letter.

  When Margot finished reading she took off her glasses. “Ruth was wrong,” she said slowly. “When I heard that she was sick all the time, at first I did think it was grief. She looked ghastly at Cheska’s funeral. But when it went on and on I wondered if she was pregnant. I wanted a baby, but William and I were too old to adopt. We talked about Ruth and decided that if she was pregnant she could come to Acacia and we’d adopt the baby. It was too delicate a subject to write in a letter. I might have been wrong and Ruth would have been furious, so I went down to Melbourne to see her. But when I got there she’d disappeared. I spoke to the matron, and asked if Ruth was ‘in trouble’, but she said she doubted it. Apart from the fact that I wanted to find her before she had the baby and gave it up for adoption, I was terrified she might have killed herself.”

  “Why were you so sure she was pregnant?” asked Fiona.

  “To crack up wasn’t in Ruth’s nature. She wasn’t a nervous-breakdown sort.”

  “But you thought she might have killed herself,” said Alex. “Surely that wasn’t in her nature either?”

  “Grief over Cheska’s death wasn’t enough to make her unstable – being pregnant and unmarried on top of everything else was.” Margot smiled grimly. “I know all about fluctuating hormones. The first time I was pregnant I was so grumpy William called me his snapdragon.” She looked at the letter. “And I was right. I never guessed she was as far gone as sixteen weeks. When she appeared again after three months I thought she must have had a miscarriage. I never said anything, of course. She and Eleanor were ingenious. As soon as Ruth drove away Eleanor must have put you and June in a pram and walked to Acacia. I was just about to go to Brisbane and meet Ruth. We were so distracted that we didn’t ask her many questions. As soon as we saw she was all right we asked her where she’d been. She wouldn’t tell us so we didn’t pursue it.”

  “Who did you think was the man?” asked Fiona.

  Margot shook her head. “I never suspected it was Laurence. When he arrived back at Acacia, William was at the bank in Dalby. Laurence just walked in the front door as if he’d never been away. I said, ‘Where on earth have you been?’ and he said, ‘I’ve walked all the way from Melbourne.’ I told him to stop talking nonsense and get himself cleaned up before his father got back. He told me, but I didn’t believe him. I should have – his clothes were a mess and his boots were falling apart. I didn’t even tell him I was sorry about Cheska or give him any comfort. He’d been away for years and I didn’t welcome him home or tell him how worried we’d all been. I thought he was mocking me.”

  “It takes an average person twenty minutes to walk a mile,” said Alex. “One hour to walk three miles. He walked twenty miles a day so that means he walked for about seven hours each day. Yes, I can imagine Laurence doing that.”

  “So can I,” agreed Margot.

  “Where would he sleep?” asked Fiona.

  “Probably at railway stations,” said Alex.

  David stood in the doorway. “What’s going on down here? We’ve been ringing.”

  “The phone’s out of order,” said Margot. “We’d better go to the homestead.”

  “Yes,” said Fiona. “Before everyone ends up here, coming down to find out what happened to the last person who didn’t come back.”

  “We’ve got some news. We’ll tell you all at the same time,” said Alex.

  Kingower

  February 1973

  Last night at the homestead I became a real Lancaster. Everyone is stunned. How would they have reacted twenty-six years ago when virginity in a bride was prized, and to be pregnant and unmarried was a sin? If Ruth thought she would get any sympathy from any of her family would she have gone away?

  I am trying to be honest with myself. Years ago, if I’d discovered that she was my real mother, would I have been kind? Would I have understood? Probably not. Aunty Ruth knew I might have condemned her. What did she once say about Laurence, Johnny and Virginia? Something about them being the most unreasonable trio she had ever met. I have inherited their traits. But Juju hasn’t. What am I going to do about her and Keith?

  Something good has happened at last. Catriona is pregnant. Stefan is fussing over her. He’s worse than her mother. I’m happy for her ... for both of them. The baby is due in August. If it’s a girl they are going to call her Kim.

  CHAPTER 26

  The large envelope arrived at Eumeralla with the name of a Melbourne firm of solicitors stamped on the back. Private and Confidential was written in red across the front. Tom collected it from the box at the gate, rode back to the house and gave it to Eleanor who looked at it suspiciously.

  “Quick, open it. Some distant relation might have died and left you all their money.”

  “Unlikely, Tom.” With a knife she slit the flap open and took out the contents.

  “If it’s a will it’s a long one,” said Tom. “Is it?”

  After reading the covering letter from the solicitor Eleanor went into the bedroom and shut the door. More curious than ever, Tom dried the breakfast dishes and emptied the buckets on the compost heap. When he had hung out a load of washing and cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, his mother was still in the bedroom. He knocked on her door. There was no reply so he pushed it open. Eleanor was lying face down on the bed.

  “Mum?” he asked in alarm.

  She rolled over and looked at him. “Their eyes,” she whispered. “They were turquoise like Laurence’s.”

  “Mum, what’s the matter?”

  “Go and find your father.”

  Greg was on the boundary chopping down a dead tree. Leaving his saw and axe he got into the car with Tom. Eleanor was still in the bedroom. He sat on the bed and put his arm around her. “What’s happened?”

  “Ruth Lancaster’s dead. She wrote this before she died.” She gave him the photocopied letter.

  As he read it rain began to pound on the roof. When he got to the end he threw the pages down. “You lied to me.”

  “I had to. Don’t be angry, Greg.”

  “You ask me not to be angry for twenty-six years of deceit?”

  “Ruth and I made a vow.”

  He stood up. “It was an excuse for lies. When you married me you thought you couldn’t have children. If you’d told me the truth I’d still have married you, but you never gave me a choice. You needed a husband to help with all the hard work and I was available. I bet you couldn’t believe your luck.”

  His anger shocked her. She had expected him to console her. “It wasn’t like that. How could I break a vow? It was sacred.”

  “What about the vows you made to me in church on our wedding day? They were more sacred.”

  A gust of wind blew through the window lifting the pages and whirling them round the room.

  Greg banged the window shut with such force that the glass cracked. “I know I was only ever a poor substitute for Johnny. And now I know why you never loved Juju.”

  She stood up and faced hi
m. “I did.”

  “For God’s sake, you were willing to let her marry her half-brother to preserve your lies!”

  “No. I didn’t know Laurence was their father. I thought it was Johnny. For the rest of my life I’ll have to live with the fact that I vilified Ruth. No wonder my coldness bewildered her.”

  Greg laughed bitterly. “So that’s why you wouldn’t have him back. For all these years that’s stumped me. Sometimes I’ve even kidded myself that it was because of me. But it wasn’t. It was because you thought he’d had an affair with Ruth.”

  “No. I didn’t know then. She refused to tell me who the man was. It was only when the twins started to look like Clarksons that I thought Johnny was their father. It was when they were eighteen months old and Virginia kept going on about how much they looked like Johnny that I realized she was right.”

  “And that was why you were so willing to give one of them away?”

  “Partly. And I knew that Virginia and Alex were their Aunt and Uncle and I was no relation to them. By that time you and I had Tom and Hazel. Please understand,” she pleaded, putting her hand on his arm.

  He pulled away. “And I suppose I’ve got to tell Juju? Just like I had to tell her that pack of lies about her birth. Or had you forgotten about her? Over the years I’ve put up with a lot from you, Eleanor. I’ve lived with the fact that you never felt for me the way you felt about Johnny. I’ve put up with your ways of letting me know who’s the boss round here. But I can’t live with this.”