The last few words brought Aurora thumpingly back to the present. She couldn’t help but wonder if it actually was an experience that Gran had clung to until the last. She could well understand the sentiments. Her own mustering experience, albeit one day, had provoked a similar reaction in her. She hadn’t had occasion to look at the stars yet, but would make the effort before she went back. She moved onto the next entry.
21st January 1946
Today has been complete drudgery compared to yesterday and the two days before. I never realised before this what efforts the domestic staff have had to make on our behalf at home. Today was a full day of mending. Until today, I was unaware that collars were reversed to prolong the life of the shirt. Fortunately, I was fully educated in the delights of embroidery when I was younger, so sewing is not difficult, but the job of mending itself is beyond my experience. Hooks and eyes on skirts, repairs to the plackets that cover them, removing buttons for later use, darning we had a day full of it and after the enchantment of the mustering trip it feels rather dull. Still, it is a job that needs to be done and it would be unfair to only expect to be given the jobs that I like. I do long to be back outside...
Aurora was thankful that she lived in a more affluent time when it wasn’t necessary to prolong the life of clothing as long as possible and that since Gran’s younger days, the zipper has become commonplace. She found touching the delight and fascination that her grandmother had for the aspects of life out here that included the horses and cattle. Thinking about it in perspective, it would have been a dramatic change from what Gran had been used to, knowing now what she did about Gran’s early life.
The word ‘Hellequin’ jumped out from the next entry, capturing Aurora’s attention. She smiled. Gran had obviously found a way to get back outside. She always had been a very determined woman. It wasn’t a character trait that Aurora had seemed to have inherited, and she wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not.
22nd January 1946
Hellequin, despite his unfortunate name, really is a rather special horse. I had some time this afternoon and snuck out to the house paddock to see him. As far as the others are concerned, the horses are working horses and not pets as such, as are the dogs. I know that they probably would not approve of what I am doing, especially Will, who would have no doubt laughed long and hard about my softness, but I could not help it. It became very clear during the three days that we were mustering, why the ancient scholars made such profound exclamations about the beauty and majesty of the horses. I was fascinated by the way the muscle moved as we were moving along, both with what I could see of Hellequin and the other horses, particularly when sweaty, the shine made the movement more pronounced. I often ran my hand along Hellequin’s neck from the saddle, giving in to the longing to touch him and feel the muscle and contained power within. I am guilty of fussing the horse probably way too much, but it could not be helped. After a day spent indoors yesterday, I felt somehow caged, needing to escape the confines of the house. As embarrassed as I am to admit it, I also missed the contact with Hellequin. With the express purpose of avoiding everybody, I left my room by the side French doors and skirted the house until I came to the house paddock where the working horses are. As quiet as I tried to be, my feet still made noise on the dry grass and although he had his back to me grazing, Hellequin raised his head, his ears moving ever so slightly to locate the sound. By that stage I had made it to the fence, my arms resting on top of the heavy, timber fence post. I did not want to call out to him as I was trying to remain undetected by the others, but as it turned out there was no need, as he heard me and came to investigate. I climbed through the fence to be with him. He really is glorious – so dark he is almost black but the sun glints off the dark brown making the edges glow. He cannot help himself now. He was unaccustomed to the attention to begin with, but he gently nuzzles and nudges me now, prompting my arm into action. I really will miss him when the time comes to go home. I tried not to stay out too long and was only missing for about fifteen minutes but I am glad that I did.
Aurora could imagine the heartache that her grandmother had felt on returning to Sydney. She was going to miss this place and the people herself and her reactions didn’t seem to be as strong as those written by Gran. How sad to want one way of life but be trapped in another. At least nowadays people could choose where they wanted to live and had the freedom to choose their own career or life path. Things would have been very different for her grandmother. She felt a deep gratitude for the choices open to her.
Aurora turned the page of the journal. As she did, what appeared to be a photo, fell face down onto the facing page. Aurora picked it up and turned it over. She was startled to see her grandmother’s face staring back at her, only younger than she remembered. She was mesmerised by the image, her eyes roving over the lines of the young Isabella’s face, looking for the links to what she had looked like many years later. A lump formed in Aurora’s throat. Gran had been beautiful, an absolute stunner. She had still been a handsome woman in her old age, but this was completely different. Aurora spent a long while holding the photo and simply gazing at it, unable to draw her eyes away.
Eventually she placed it on the bed beside her, running her finger along it as if to stroke her grandmother’s face, and returned her attention to the journal and the next diary entry. She smiled as she read through another stolen encounter with Hellequin. This time the horse had been too busy eating to bother to come over straight away and Isabella had sat on the ground inside the fence, hoping and waiting for him to come. He had come, and rather than standing she had stayed sitting, and the horse had nuzzled a lot, eventually licking Isabella’s hands, arms and shirt.
Her grandmother had been in raptures over the attention from Hellequin. Aurora wasn’t so sure herself that she would have been that calm about it or even enjoyed it. There was always that nagging worry about being bitten, and as far as she was concerned, being covered in horse slobber wasn’t high on her to-do list. Good on Gran though...
She closed the journal, suddenly restless, and gingerly raised herself up off the bed trying not to jar her aching muscles too much, and picked up the photo. She screwed her face up in discomfort as she wiggled her way over to the edge of the bed, hoping that she was less sore the next day, or it would be mighty embarrassing to meet a whole stack of new people while she was moving with the speed and grace of an arthritic snail. Not to mention the fact that it would make her the butt of a whole lot of jokes.
She thought that she might track down Fiona and show her the photo. They hadn’t spoken about her grandmother’s trip to Bilgarra Springs and Aurora had now arrived at the stage where she wanted to talk about it. It might be nice to find out about a time in her grandmother’s life that she hadn’t been a part of, from someone who was.
She paused in the doorway to her bedroom, listening to see if she could hear Fiona’s voice coming from the kitchen, or possibly the courtyard. Instead it appeared to be coming from the front verandah. She was probably sitting out there with Arthur as they sometimes did. Aurora hobbled down the hall and popped her head around the front door, looking to the left where the Adirondack chairs were. Sure enough Fiona and Arthur were there.
Aurora had thought that she had been quiet, obviously not quiet enough, as Arthur’s head came around to investigate and Fiona’s face lit up with a smile. Arthur was usually a man of few words and Aurora wasn’t surprised when it was Fiona who spoke.
‘Are you looking for us?’
Aurora came fully through the doorway.
‘I was. I found this photo in Gran’s journal.’
Aurora held up the photo. Arthur looked positively mortified. Aurora desperately hoped that she hadn’t inadvertently interrupted something. She took a couple of steps closer to the pair.
‘I have been reading through it and I was hoping that you might tell me a bit about her from back then.’
Aurora was a bit taken back when Arthur came bolt upright out of
the chair, collected his hat, bent to kiss his wife and mumbled something about leaving you girls to talk and things to do in the shed and took off like the hounds of hell were at his heels. Fiona leant forward, her hands clasped over her knees and a crease had formed between her eyebrows where there wasn’t usually one and Aurora was suddenly very uncomfortable. She must have accidentally interrupted something.
Shit.
She mentally scrambled for something to say to back out of the awkward situation that she had just created. Fiona still looked stricken. Aurora’s next words were halting and tentative.
‘If now isn’t good...we can sit down another time. Or ... not at all if you would rather not...’
Aurora let the words trail off, watching the expression on Fiona’s face, which had moved from horror to resignation. There was definitely something going on here that she wasn’t aware of and, in her usual manner, she had managed to blunder in. Fiona looked at Aurora, seemingly searching her face, which struck Aurora as a little bit odd. What did it have to do with her?
‘No. It’s fine love. Sit down. What would you like to know?’
There was no enthusiasm in Fiona’s voice at all and if Aurora wasn’t mistaken, there was a definite note of dread. Aurora decided to test the waters and see what happened. If need be she could always terminate the conversation, but she wasn’t sure at all what she was about to get into.
Deep breath time.
‘Nothing in particular. This was on the page of the last entry that I read and I’m curious. I obviously never knew Gran as a young woman, you did and I was hoping that you could fill in some gaps for me.’
Fiona’s face slipped into a smile, her shoulders relaxed and she leaned back to get more comfortable, her hands resting on the arms of the chair. It was an amazing transformation and Aurora was starting to wonder if she had imagined the earlier tension. Fiona’s face softened and took on a lovely peacefulness when she spoke, her gaze on something out in the paddock, or maybe just lost in her memories.
‘Isabella was a breath of fresh air to this place while she was here. We had never met anybody quite like her.’
Fiona looked directly at Aurora, her mouth curving with the fond recollection.
‘She had no idea about anything that we did out here when she arrived. To her credit, it didn’t take her long though, and she wasn’t lazy, or wanting to be waited on, which we thought she would be, coming from the city and out of a wealthy family. But she was great. Her first attempts at cooking were hilarious. When she arrived I doubt that she even knew what a saucepan or frying pan looked like, let alone how to use one.’
Fiona looked at Aurora, one eyebrow arched. The allusion to her own lack of culinary expertise wasn’t lost on Aurora and she felt the need to defend herself.
‘That’s a bit unfair, I knew what they looked like when I arrived. I even knew how to use them, it was the stuff you put inside that was my downfall.’
Fiona chuckled.
‘You’re alright. You’re coming along nicely in the kitchen. It’s a pity that we don’t have you for another couple of months, you would have been able to actually cook something by then...’
Fiona let the words trail off, blatantly teasing Aurora. Aurora wasn’t offended. She was well aware of her deficiencies in the kitchen. Peter had always done all the cooking. Aurora opened her mouth to tell Fiona that she wasn’t starving and that it had always been Peter’s domain. She closed her mouth just as quickly. She wasn’t letting that cat out of the bag. If Gran had mentioned her marriage and the subsequent drama in a Christmas card to Fiona then that was all the information that she was getting. On the off chance that Gran hadn’t mentioned it, Aurora was shutting up.
Fiona watched the emotions race across Aurora’s face and hoped that she knew that she had been kidding. The last thing she wanted was to torment the poor girl. Aurora had enough shocks coming to her, without her adding more fuel to the fire. Fiona was relieved when Aurora finally smiled.
‘I really don’t think that my flatmate, Orinoco, my Siamese cat, is going to appreciate the finer qualities of cordon bleu cooking.’
Aurora chuckled and Fiona could see the fondness for the cat in her eyes. Fiona wasn’t surprised. She had watched Aurora with Rough and Tumble enough times to know that the girl possessed an affectionate nature. It was a pity that the marriage had ended in tragedy, on both counts. In Fiona’s opinion, Aurora would have made a great mother...but that subject was not one that she was going to broach with Aurora. Fiona felt that she more than had her hands full with the current subject. Aurora’s words and slight chuckle snapped her out of her thoughts.
‘But then again, being Siamese, maybe she would...’
‘Your grandmother shared your sense of humour. From what I knew of her, she was always happy to poke fun at herself and she took others doing it with good grace. There were times when she had us in stitches, making fun of something silly that she had done that day. We all got good mileage out of her soreness after the mustering trip. Have you read about that yet?’
Aurora nodded but looked a little quizzical. Fiona figured that she was probably wondering why she had also read the diary. That was an easy one to answer.
‘About the journal, I wasn’t snooping on your grandmother or anything like that. Living as we do out here we are conscious of respecting one and other’s privacy. After your grandmother had gone, she left the journal on the bed, along with a note to let me know that she had intentionally left it here. She was absolutely distraught at having to return home and she said that if she took it with her it would be all too tempting to keep rereading it and she would live in the past, rather than going on with what the future held. At the time I thought that it showed courage to be able to leave behind something that I knew that she desperately wanted to cling to. I have to admit that I read it many times, reliving the experiences and hanging on to the little bit that we had of her, so I am grateful that she left it.’
Aurora remained silent, not wanting to stop the flow of words. Fiona’s expression held a mix of sadness and wistfulness and she reached over for the photo that was sitting in Aurora’s lap. Aurora wordlessly held it out for her. Fiona held it with both hands, gazing fondly at it, her hands shaking ever so slightly. When she looked up Aurora noticed that her eyes were full of unshed tears. She felt bad. She hadn’t intended to upset Fiona.
‘Your grandmother was beautiful, both inside and out. Your grandfather was a very lucky man to have had her. I hope he realised just how lucky.’
With that last statement a single tear made its way down the old lady’s cheek. Aurora was dumbstruck. She didn’t know what to say or do, whether to offer some sort of comfort or not. Fiona was a strong, self-contained woman and Aurora was too unsure of herself to risk hugging her or probing into it too deeply. She took the path of least resistance and remained silent.
Fiona met Aurora’s eyes with a watery smile.
‘I know that she was only here for a month, but I came to love your grandmother like a sister. If things had worked out differently, then maybe...’
Fiona paused, took a deep breath and Aurora noticed that she appeared to struggle with what to say next. Aurora decided it was her turn to jump in.
‘I didn’t mean to upset you Fiona. It’s just that the journal shows a woman who was not the grandmother that I knew. Of course there are similarities between her as a young woman and an older one, but I didn’t know her then and from what I have read, she is somebody that I think that I would have enjoyed. I’m really curious. The entries about sneaking out to spend time with the horse are just so not what I would have expected.’
Fiona laughed.
‘She only thought she was sneaking about. We all knew where she went and what she did. We just pretended that we didn’t. Will was walking back from the shed to the house one afternoon and noticed her hanging over the fence. She wouldn’t have been able to see him, but he could certainly see her. He mentioned it to us and after that we used to
have a private joke about the fact that she would go missing for a while every day. She loved that animal. It was good to see. He wasn’t the most charming horse, but he certainly took to her.’
Fiona paused, seemingly lost in her memories.
‘When she arrived, as I said, she was hopeless at anything domestic, but she certainly wasn’t stupid or too afraid to have a go, and by the time she left, she had learned to cook, do the laundry, mending and ironing, and general cleaning. She was a hard worker.’
Fiona’s expression had become earnest.
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