Dulcie walked over to the window. It had frosted glass on the lower half, but the top part, at eye level, was clear. It overlooked a small side street, and as she looked out, a young woman in a pink sundress and sun-glasses walked by pushing a pram. She could hear the rumble of traffic in the distance too.
‘Everything’s ordinary out there,’ she said in a hushed voice. ‘People going about their daily lives. I want everything to stop, if only for a minute. It doesn’t seem right that it’s only you and I mourning her.’
Rudie came up behind her, put his hands on her shoulders and leaned his head against hers. ‘I wanted to paint her,’ he whispered. ‘She never let me. I don’t know why.’
‘Maybe she thought you would make her keep still for hours,’ Dulcie whispered back. ‘She could never stand that.’
‘I wish I’d known the real May,’ he said, his voice strangled as if fighting back tears. ‘Like you did.’
Dulcie turned round and took his face in her two hands, his eyes were brimming now. ‘I think you knew her far better than me, Rudie. I’ve got the image of the little May stuck in my head. But does it matter if we’ve got false images? Let’s just try and keep the good ones, and forget the rest.’
Dulcie was suddenly aware how close they were, their bodies almost touching. He was gazing down at her, and she couldn’t draw back or even look away from him, for his eyes held her.
All at once she wanted him to kiss her, for his eyes told her that’s what he wanted to do, but just as his lips came down to meet hers, the door opened and Haggetty came in with their coffee.
‘I put sugar in, I thought you’d need it,’ he said.
It was Dulcie who moved, drawing back from Rudie as if she’d been stung.
‘Thank you, inspector,’ she said, blushing furiously. ‘Can we ask if you have any more information about May’s death now?’
‘If you’re sure you’re ready for it,’ he said, looking from one to the other, perhaps sensing an unusual atmosphere. ‘I could go away and come back later.’
‘We’re as ready as we’ll ever be,’ Rudie said with a sigh, and sat down at the small table where Haggetty had placed their coffee.
Haggetty waited until Dulcie had sat down, then he followed suit and offered them each a cigarette. When they refused, he lit one up himself.
‘May was last seen at about six-thirty in the evening walking along the beach, alone. We believe she went into the sea soon after, despite the warning flag flying.’
‘Are you saying it was suicide?’ Rudie asked quietly.
‘We can’t say that,’ Haggetty said. ‘People often swim when it isn’t safe, especially the young. But it is very unusual for girls to go in alone, especially when it’s getting dark.’
Rudie and Dulcie looked at each other helplessly.
‘Did you find where she was living?’ Rudie asked.
Haggetty nodded. ‘She’d taken a room in a boarding house under the name of Belinda Smith. We checked that out, but there was nothing there other than her clothes.’
Dulcie gulped at May’s assumed name. It was so very poignant that she’d used the one of her old doll.
‘There was no note then?’ Rudie said. ‘Doesn’t that confirm it was an accident?’
Haggetty dropped his eyes. ‘Maybe. But we didn’t find a towel, bag or even shoes on the beach. Only a cotton dress.’
‘What about her landlady? Did she tell you anything about May?’
‘Not much,’ Haggetty said. ‘Just that May had turned up one morning about six weeks ago with a suitcase and asked for a room. She thought she must work in a bar somewhere because she spent her days on the beach and came home late at night.’
‘If she was there all along, why didn’t you find her before?’ Rudie asked. ‘After all, she’s not the kind of girl not to be noticed.’
‘We weren’t looking in the right places,’ Haggetty said. ‘I don’t want to offend you at such a time, but we were told to look for her amongst the working girls. I wish to God we had asked around more generally, maybe we could’ve prevented this.’
‘Do you mean she hadn’t worked up here as a prostitute?’ Dulcie whispered.
‘Not so far as we know,’ Haggetty said. ‘An elderly man who lives across the road from the boarding house said he met her on her second day on the Gold Coast, she had fallen asleep on a bench, her suitcase beside her. He felt sorry for her, guessed she hadn’t got anywhere to stay, and so he woke her up and spoke to her. He sent her to the boarding house.’
‘Sounds familiar,’ Rudie said, with a trace of harshness in his voice.
Haggetty raised one bushy blond eyebrow inquiringly.
‘She’d done that before,’ Rudie said by way of explanation. ‘But go on, did this man know what she’d been doing in Sydney?’
Haggetty shook his head. ‘She told him she’d run away from a violent boyfriend.’
‘Maybe it was true,’ Rudie said. ‘We always assumed she only ran away because of the baby, but there could have been a man behind it.’
‘I daresay there was,’ the policeman said. ‘She certainly kept herself to herself. We asked questions in all the bars, she hadn’t made any friends that we can find.’
‘Was she working in one of them?’ Dulcie asked.
Haggetty shook his head.
‘Then how was she paying for her room?’ Rudie asked. Haggetty shrugged. ‘We don’t know, maybe she had savings.’
Dulcie knew this was unlikely, but she wasn’t going to voice that or even consider how May might have supported herself in her time at the Gold Coast. May was dead now, whether it was accidental or intentional didn’t really matter. Nothing could bring her back.
‘What about the funeral?’ Rudie asked. ‘Should we arrange it now?’
‘We won’t be able to release her body for a few days,’ Haggetty said. ‘We’ll let you know as soon as possible.’
‘May’s dead, Ross.’ Dulcie said when she reached him on the telephone later that night.
‘Speak up,’ he said. ‘I can’t hear you.’
Dulcie repeated it, louder this time, and her voice seemed to echo around Rudie’s living-room. ‘I’ve just got back from Brisbane identifying her body.’
‘Oh no,’ he gasped. ‘What happened to her? Are you okay?’
It wasn’t much, but it sounded to Dulcie as if he was receptive for once, and trying to control her tears, she told him about it.
‘Strewth, Dulc,’ he exclaimed as she finished. ‘You’ve fairly laid me out! I don’t know what to say. I’m so bloody sorry, you know I liked May, we all did here. She might have gone wrong, but she didn’t deserve that.’
It wasn’t the most tender of condolences, but there was real sincerity in what he said, and it made Dulcie cry.
‘D’you want me to come up there for the funeral?’ he said. ‘I could jump on the train.’
Later she was to see the bitter irony that he was prepared to jump on a train for a funeral, but not to help an abandoned baby, yet right then she was touched that he had found his heart again. ‘I don’t think there’s much point in that,’ she said. ‘We don’t know when the body will be released yet, it could be as early as tomorrow or the day after, and we’ll have to have the funeral immediately. You stay there, I can manage.’
‘You’ll be right home afterwards then?’ he asked.
‘Yes, Ross,’ she sighed, knowing she really had no excuse to delay it any longer. ‘Rudie’s blood tests have proved he is Noël’s father, so he’s safe now.’
‘I can’t wait to have you home again,’ he said with real warmth. ‘I’ve made a few surprises for you while you’ve been away. We’ve all missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too,’ she sobbed, suddenly wanting to be back in her own little house, seeing the animals, cooking for everyone, tending her garden and away from all this heartache. ‘I’ll ring again and tell you when I’m coming back.’
‘I love you,’ he said, then put the phone down
.
Rudie came over to her as she stood there sobbing, the receiver still in her hand. He took it from her and replaced it, then put his arms around her and held her.
‘Was he nasty again?’ he whispered.
‘No, not at all,’ she said through her tears, leaning into his big chest. ‘I don’t know why I’m crying.’
‘You have every reason to cry,’ he said soothingly. ‘Your sister’s dead. You’ve got the funeral to go through, and you’ve got to leave Noël. I think that would make even the most tough person crack.’
He led her over to the settee, then fetched her a glass of brandy. She drank it in one gulp, shuddering as it burned its way down her throat. ‘I promised Dad and Gran I’d take care of May, but I failed them,’ she said.
Rudie turned to her, took her by the shoulders and shook her. ‘You haven’t failed anyone,’ he said angrily. ‘You were just a little girl when your mother died, and you did more than most adults would do to protect her. You’ve got to stop this thinking you are responsible for other people, Dulcie. The only person you are responsible for is yourself. Part of that responsibility is finding personal happiness too. Promise me you’ll strive to find it?’
She looked at him bleakly. ‘I’ll be happy once this is all over and I’m home again.’
‘There you go again, lying to yourself, just like May said,’ he snapped. ‘You know you won’t be. You’ll do what everyone else wants, make them happy, but forget yourself. You’ve got to learn to take, Dulcie, or stay a damned doormat all your life!’
‘What do you suggest I do when I get home?’ she snapped back at him. ‘Demand that I go to college and get a few qualifications, refuse to feed the chickens because it’s beneath me? It’s all right for you, you can do exactly as you please, on a farm there’s boring routine work which has to be done day after day. I’m Ross’s wife, I have to do it.’
‘I’m not talking about work and you know it,’ he retorted. ‘You’ve got to make Ross get help to sort out his problems, and if he won’t, then for God’s sake leave him.’
‘I can’t do that.’ She was shocked at him being so brutal.
‘Go and see my friend Stephan the psychiatrist tomorrow,’ he said forcefully. ‘At least go home armed with his advice if nothing else. I can’t bear to think of you living the rest of your life unfulfilled and neglected, that’s a worse punishment than anything those nuns did to you.’
‘Sex isn’t everything,’ she said defiantly. ‘It’s companionship that counts.’
‘Rubbish,’ he roared at her. ‘You are a beautiful, desirable woman, Dulcie, sex might not be everything, but it’s a wonderful, splendid thing given to us to make sure we stay together as couples and make babies. What you call companionship will wither and die without it, you’ll end up a bitter old lady with nothing in your past but sad memories.’
‘Having sex didn’t do May any good,’ she said, wanting to hurt him. ‘She didn’t really like it, you know, not even with you.’
His face crumpled. ‘If she’d only been honest with me I could have helped her,’ he said. ‘Don’t you think it hurts me now to know she only endured it for what she could get from me? If I’d known then about what that evil nun had done to her, I would have acted quite differently. She hid her real problems, used her cunning and charm to get round them. But you are worse in many ways, Dulcie, you’re prepared to let anyone do almost anything to you, take any amount of humiliation, in the mistaken belief this will make them love you more.’
‘I don’t,’ she roared at him, jumping up and making towards the stairs.
He ran after her and caught hold of her wrists. ‘You do,’ he insisted. ‘I haven’t known you that long but I can see how you ended up like this. Right from a little girl you were caught in the cross-fire between your parents. On one hand you tried to cover up for your mother’s neglect to you and May by doing things she should have been doing, and you were rewarded for this by praise from your father. When she died, you protected your father, never knowing for certain whether he really pushed her or not.’
‘He didn’t push her,’ she retorted. ‘She fell.’
‘Maybe so, but that hardly matters in the face of the confusion and guilt you must have felt. Then you felt even more guilty while you were with your granny because you thought you and May were the reason she became poorly. From then on it’s my guess you took the blame for every last thing that happened to you and May, including being sent here to Australia.’
‘I didn’t,’ she said, but a vision of her getting the beating at St Vincent’s for stealing the toffees came into her head.
‘You did, and you’ve got to stop blaming yourself, and put that blame firmly on the shoulders of those who were responsible. It wasn’t anything you did that made May go wrong, it was the treatment she had at the hands of the Sisters. You did the right thing when you took Noël away from her, you are not in some way responsible for her death. But most of all you’ve got to stop thinking you are to blame for your husband not making love to you. It’s his problem, try and get him to share it with you by all means. But don’t take it on your own shoulders.’
‘I can’t help the way I am,’ she cried.
‘You can’t do anything about the past,’ he said firmly. ‘It’s done and it can’t be mended. But the future is different, you can be in control of that, if you just think what you really want and reach out and take it.’
‘But I don’t know what I really want,’ she sobbed.
Rudie put his arms round her and drew her to his chest. ‘I know, you’ve spent so long thinking what everyone else wants, including Noël and me, that your own desires and needs have been forgotten. For now all you need to do is take one day at a time, visit Stephan, get the funeral over, then go back home. Somewhere along the line what you want and need will come to you.’
She sobbed against his chest, wishing she dared say she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to go home.
‘Don’t forget I’m your friend, for ever,’ he said softly against her hair. ‘We’re related through Noël, and there will always be a home here for you if you need it. Even if Ross doesn’t want Noël visiting you at the farm, I shall come to Esperance every summer and stay in a hotel so you can see him. I’m not going to let you slip out of our lives.’
She lifted her head up. Rudie was looking down at her, his dark eyes glistening with unshed tears, lips quivering, and suddenly she was kissing him.
It seemed to Dulcie that she was falling through space locked in his arms. Nothing mattered any more but the bliss of his lips on hers, the delicious sensations coursing through her body. Never before had she felt anything quite like it, her reason was gone, she had no will to control herself. To be in his arms, feeling the sensual delights of his probing tongue, was all that counted.
Rudie broke away first. ‘We mustn’t do this, Dulcie,’ he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. ‘It will only make it harder for us to part.’
All at once she came back to reality, blushing as she realized what she had unwittingly started. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said.
He just looked at her wistfully. ‘There you go again, taking all the blame. I’ve wanted to kiss you from the first moment I met you. Go to bed, Dulcie, don’t tempt me any more, I might start to think there’s hope for me.’
She ran up the stairs like a startled rabbit, not even stopping to say goodnight.
Chapter Twenty-four
‘Just sit back and relax, Dulcie,’ Dr Stephan Heinne said gently. ‘You’ve been through so much emotional upheaval in the last few days that I expect you think seeing me will be some sort of inquisition, but it won’t be, you can tell me as little or as much as you like, in your own time.’
Stephan was Rudie’s psychiatrist friend, and Dulcie had been a little taken aback that he had made this appointment so quickly. It was only yesterday that they returned from Brisbane, and after what happened between them, this seemed to her to be his way of avoiding any discussi
on about it.
Rudie needn’t have worried, she had no intention of asking him why he had kissed her like that, she certainly wasn’t going to admit it had shaken her to the core and left her more confused than ever. But she couldn’t refuse this appointment, however badly timed it was, she did after all need advice about Ross. So she had come, reluctant and scared stiff.
Yet the moment she stepped into Stephan’s consulting room and saw him for the first time, her fear suddenly vanished for he didn’t look the least intimidating. He was as short as her, his round, well-scrubbed face boyish and appealing. She couldn’t help wondering if he wore those thick-rimmed glasses to try to make himself look more intellectual, but in fact all they did was emphasize his large grey eyes.
She knew he was born in Austria, educated in England and was considered one of the most eminent men in his field, but like Rudie he’d struggled when he’d first arrived in Australia, for they’d become friends while they were both waiting on tables.
Stephan’s consulting room in Rose Bay was more like a study, the walls lined with books, and a view of the harbour from the window. She felt she might be able to open up to him.
‘First may I offer my condolences about your sister,’ Stephan began, his grey eyes soft with sympathy. ‘Rudie told me about her when she disappeared last year and has kept me up to date since then.’
‘It was only yesterday that we went to identify her body,’ Dulcie blurted out, tears springing into her eyes. ‘I kept hoping it wouldn’t be her, but of course it was.’
‘So very distressing for you,’ he said softly. ‘One always expects a younger sibling to outlive you. I’m sure it brought back poignant memories from your childhood.’
Dulcie nodded. ‘I still can’t really believe she’s dead,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘There’s so much I wish I’d said to her, and stuff I wish I hadn’t.’
‘Would you like to talk over any of that with me?’ he asked.
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