A Change of Texture

by Paul Maxwell Taylor

  Virginia squealed loudly. ‘Mum, did you just say “fuck,” that’s amazing!’

  Incongruously, the three of us were again laughing loudly.

  Gloria looked at her daughter. ‘Really, who’d care? Max is gone, my brother’s gone, your dad’s gone; who’s going to suffer? Geraldine and, if it is, do we care? If anyone’s got a problem, let them say so. If anyone has anything negative to say about Max, I’ll shove my fist down their fucking throat.’

  This time the screech from Virginia was even louder. She shook her head, her mouth open like a carnival clown’s. It occurred to me we were in a place where souls could repair themselves and relationships could grow. It was a reminder that the worst of times can have bright colours, and I knew little about the human condition.

  The three of us stood wearily and awkwardly at the front door, knowing that, for each of us, there was more to come. I would need time to absorb all I’d just heard, and was sure that emotions would blossom, be pruned and blossom again. Painful memories would revisit us but, hopefully, they would eventually be outnumbered. I’d underestimated these women. I hugged them like I never had before.

  CHAPTER 32

  As I drove home, I reflected on the hours before I’d arrived at Gloria and Virginia’s house. I thought about how I had not been able to get Geraldine off my mind, to shake the idea that she reminded me of someone; how I’d sat writing a story with a plot that revolved around relationships, thinking about what it would be like to see someone so familiar but not know them. It now seemed absurd that I hadn’t immediately seen the similarity between Maxine and Geraldine. I arrived home exhausted and was soon in bed, but lay awake as thoughts flew around each other like protons and neutrons, and whatever else made up an atom. Eventually, I fell into a deep sleep.

  The days eased by. I jogged, did some gardening, started to paint the hallway. I reckoned I‘d ruffled enough feathers and it was time to wait for other people to act. On Wednesday, the phone rang.

  ‘Carter, it’s Virginia. How are you?’

  ‘Hey, good to hear your voice. I’m not too bad, how about you?’

  ‘I’ve been trying to keep busy but, I have to say, the events of Sunday night have been on my mind. You think you have a handle on life and, bang, it whacks you, but hey, wasn’t Mum great?’

  ‘So, all is good at your place?’

  ‘Oh yeah, it’s been good. We’ve never talked so much. Suddenly, I feel like I understand my mum and can be there for her. Life used to be just, you know, routine, this was just the place I slept at, existed in; but now, well, I feel she really needs me.’

  ‘That’s wonderful. Your mum was bloody brave and you were great too. All these years I thought you were just the annoying little sister and you turn out to be pretty damn impressive.’

  ‘What’s this annoying little sister crap? Get stuffed, you.’

  ‘Well, only mildly annoying.’

  ‘You know, I rang to invite you over to dinner tonight, but if you’re going to be rude, you can forget it.’

  ‘All right, I’ll be pleasant.’

  ‘You better be. Shall we say seven? Oh, and try to bring a decent bottle of wine for a change.’

  Virginia opened the door, a grin on her face. She reached out and grabbed the bottle from my hand. ‘Mmm, Pinot Noir.’ She made a show of reading the label carefully. ‘From Tassie. I guess it will do.’

  I grabbed it back. ‘You don’t have to drink it. I’m sure your mum and I can enjoy it without your help.’

  We embraced and walked arm in arm down the hallway. Gloria appeared from the kitchen, and offered a warm welcome.

  Virginia checked the slow cooker to make sure the stroganoff was progressing as it should. As Gloria put the finishing touches to an apple pie before it went into the oven, she looked over her shoulder at me, smiling.

  ‘Have you heard about Allen?’

  ‘Allen?’

  Gloria flicked her head in the direction of her daughter and then turned back to the apple pie. I looked at Virginia. She gave a silly grin and shook her head, her blush said it all.

  ‘Well, well. No, I haven’t heard about any Allen. Virginia, have you something to tell me?’

  ‘Oh it’s no big deal, he’s just a friend.’

  ‘Go on, I need more than that.’

  ‘We met at my friend Carmen’s house, and, well, we sort of hit it off, no big deal.’

  ‘Bulldust, it’s a big deal, your sister would want me to make sure he’s good enough for you, so I need the full story!’

  She poked me in the arm and said, ‘You’ll get the story when I feel like it, and not before.’

  ‘All right, all right. So, how many dates so far?’

  ‘We’ve been out three times and …’

  ‘Three? I thought it was only two,’ Gloria said as she spun around. She threw her tea towel over her shoulder and put her arms on her hips, a look of mock affront on her face.

  ‘I need to meet this young man, see if I approve,’ I said. ‘Is he coming this evening?’

  ‘No, Mum and I just wanted it to be the three of us; you know, sort of a follow-on from the other night.’

  ‘Sure, great, but I need to meet him so I can give him a heads up about you. Tell him a few things he should know, like what he’s getting himself into, about what a…’

  I didn’t get to finish because Virginia had found another tea towel and was whipping me with it. I took cover behind the dining table.

  While we were enjoying the stroganoff, Virginia put her knife and fork down, and looked at me earnestly. ‘Carter, I’m sure you remember how I reacted when we were talking about Geraldine on Sunday night; you know, how I got aggressive and all that. Well…Mum and I have been doing a bit of thinking about Geraldine. You mentioned how she reacted when you told her Max was gone, and we were thinking the young woman who got pregnant and gave away her daughter all those years ago is most likely different to the woman you met. She may be devastated by what you told her… we have no problem with you having told her, it was the right thing, but, well...’ She paused, and looked at her mum, who smiled gently back. ‘Maybe you could sort of find out how she is, if she’s handling it all OK. You know, if she doesn’t care, then forget it, but if she’s sitting somewhere right now, in a state of real grief, with no one to share it with, then we could give her some comfort. Maybe we should all get together.’ She nodded firmly, clearly satisfied she had made her point.

  Gloria turned to me quickly. ‘If that’s all fine with you, Carter. If it’s upsetting to you, then tell us…’

  ‘No, no, it wouldn’t be a problem for me but, remember, she hasn’t admitted it. I didn’t know what the relationship was until you told me the story.’

  ‘Yes, I understand but you said that you told her your partner’s name was Maxine, and that you spoke about the girl in L’enfant Perdu, so it’s likely that she put two and two together.’

  ‘Yes, you may be right. I guess I need to work out a way to approach Geraldine, and try to find out where she’s at.’ Then I looked from one to the other. ‘And I think it’s very nice of you to be thinking of her.’ My gaze went back to my food and I said, ‘I think Max would approve.’

  We were silent for a while.

  ‘I might subtly question the gentleman helping me with the authentication process, Leonard E Catt. He knows Geraldine and I know her daughter, Hannah. I understand that mother and daughter don’t speak but……’ I stopped talking. I don’t know how long it was before I realised I had my knife and fork in midair and my mouth open. It was only when I mentioned Hannah’s name that the horror of what I’d done exploded in my head. Suddenly, I was overcome with self-loathing; I’d slept with the sister of the woman I loved, in a horrible betrayal of her memory. I’d tried not to think about Hannah, tried to forget what had happened. But now my remorse was dragging me to another,
darker, world, where regrets stabbed like knives and the inability to change what had happened pushed those knives in further.

  ‘You all right, Carter?’ Virginia asked.

  They were both staring at me.

  ‘Oh yeah, sorry, I’m fine…just sort of, you know, thinking about all this, all the different things, the complicated relationships.’

  ‘Man, you looked like you’d seen a ghost. Can I get you anything?’

  ‘No, no, thanks, Virginia, I’m fine. I might just wash my face; excuse me.’

  I looked into the bathroom mirror, and disbelief looked back at me. You didn’t know they were related. Anyway, it’s only a half-sister, come on, pull yourself together... I splashed water on my face and told myself I needed to be strong for the two women in the next room. I rejoined them, and assured them that all was well, made some small talk about how good the food was, but the conversation soon found its way back to the previous subject.

  ‘So, Carter, you were saying that Geraldine’s daughter – Hannah, is it? – would have no idea she has a sister, or, rather, a half-sister?’ Virginia asked.

  I shrugged my shoulders. ‘I’d be surprised if she knew but, of course, I can’t be sure.’ I wanted this conversation to end.

  ‘Now I think about it, I guess that makes Hannah a sort of relation of ours?’ she added.

  ‘She’s not a blood relation. Let’s start with me finding out about Geraldine and see what happens.’ I tried to inject a note of finality and went on, ‘Gloria, I was wondering. Maxine’s biological father, your brother, what happened to him?

  ‘Oh, he passed away about four years ago; some hospital tracked me down and I got a letter. The funeral had already been held and I hadn’t seen him for twenty years. He never once contacted me, never enquired after Maxine. As I said last time, I can’t be sure but I reckon Geraldine’s family paid him off, and that probably included a requirement that he keep out of Maxine’s life. I really don’t know. I wouldn’t have stopped him seeing her, but he never tried, so that’s that.’

  Virginia was shaking her head. ‘You know, I remember you saying you had a brother but I thought he died, like, thirty years ago.’

  ‘Yes, dear, I know you did. I let you and your sister believe that; it was just easier. I figured if he contacted me, I’d worry about it then, but, as I said, he never did. All so sad, a wasted life.’ She looked at the tablecloth and slowly shook her head.

  CHAPTER 33

  ‘Carter, it’s Leonard. Ah-humph, I hope you’re well and all that. I want to examine the painting again. I need to look at the brush technique – is that all right with you?’

  Within an hour he had arrived, and again he did his thing with torch and magnifying glass. After a few minutes, he removed a fluorescent orange spectacle case from his pocket and carefully unfolded a square of soft blue cleaning cloth. He polished his spectacles for longer than I could imagine was necessary and fidgeted as he did it.

  ‘Well, it’s mixed results, Carter. The style is definitely similar, the brush strokes; it’s her pattern. She was right handed and used long slow strokes, and your work is consistent with that, but there are a couple of things that are, shall we say, irregular. One is that this is a different canvas from the one she tended to use. It’s a coarser, darker type, and the paint, it does seem a trifle thicker than she normally applied. But, on the other hand, the colour combinations are certainly her style, her pattern. What’s also occurred to me, Carter,’ he went on, in what I thought was his best headmasterly tone, ‘is that if this is real, then it is one of her later works and, to my knowledge, she didn’t do a lot of work when she was living at Mornington. This piece, this unnamed panorama, assuming it’s authentic, reminds us there may be more out there somewhere. Yes, there may be more, what a tantalising thought…Ah-humph.’ His voice tailed off. Then he was back. ‘So, you might say that we are still out there in no man’s land, or, rather, no woman’s land – or perhaps “no Elaine’s land”.’

  I smiled politely.

  He gave his slow, languid giggle and then again seemed to drift off, but soon he pulled himself upright, cleared his throat and pushed his fingers through his thick grey hair. ‘So, now, putting that aside for one moment, what did you think of Vue de Mer? Did you stay long?’

  ‘Yes, I spent over an hour there.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It was an interesting experience. I found it… poignant. I mean, I didn’t know what to expect. I’m certainly glad I went.’

  ‘Well, it seems I just missed you.’ He moved clumsily from foot to foot, appearing heavy and awkward, like someone who would be wiser not to step onto a dance floor.

  ‘You obviously spoke to Geraldine,’ I said.

  ‘I did. As I was walking to the house, I saw her sitting in her car, just staring, she had a sort of odd faraway look in her eyes. I was standing right in front of her, offering her my best smile, and she didn’t even see me!’

  ‘Was she all right?’

  ‘Oh yes, fine.’ He paused. ‘Perhaps melancholic is the word. I think it was just the many memories that would have been brought to the fore, by being back in a place where she once lived.’

  ‘Did she mention our conversation?’

  ‘She said you’d introduced yourself. Of course, I had already told her about the work you have but I think she was still a bit surprised when you approached her. You know, to hear about it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.’

  ‘Yes, and I told her about how Maxine accidentally found the painting and how she died soon afterwards. Did she mention that?’

  ‘No, not specifically, but that’s not really a surprise; she may have felt that such a subject was personal. She was very…how do I put it…cautious. I wondered for a moment whether you might have upset her but she said you hadn’t. Now that you explain it, she may have been moved by your story. She is a wonderful, caring person, Carter, have no doubt about that. I actually got in her car and chatted to her. She was more relaxed when I left her. In fact, she told me one good thing: she said she had been thinking that life was too short and she mentioned she planned to contact Hannah. I have to say, my boy, ah-humph, I was delighted to hear that.’

  I agreed, wanting to say that I understood it more than he could know.

  ‘So, what were your observations, young man?’

  I described my walk around the gardens, made general comments, telling him only what I wanted to tell him at that point. He seemed satisfied.

  ‘Actually, Leonard, I’d like to get Geraldine’s phone number, if I could. I was thinking I should ask her if she wants to view the painting.’

  He made another throat-clearing noise, then shuffled awkwardly again. ‘Well, Carter, I’m not sure. She was a bit emotional yesterday and I don’t want to upset her. I’ve known her a long time and I’m very fond of her. He paused. ‘How about I mention your suggestion, and if she’s interested, I will put you in email contact. Does that suit?’

  I accepted the Alley Cat’s offer. At the front door, I shook his hand firmly and hoped that this time he might reciprocate. He didn’t. One of these days, I will mention that a firm handshake is appreciated by most.

  I sat for a long time. I assumed that Geraldine’s reaction to my mention of Max’s death was evidence that she knew the daughter she gave up all those years ago was lost to her forever. The Alley Cat’s mentioning that she had decided she should talk to Hannah seemed to reinforce that, but I could not consider arranging a meeting with Gloria and Virginia until I was sure. I didn’t want to further disturb the already tangled web.

  CHAPTER 34

  ‘Carter, it’s Sandy Arnold, from Kyneton Collectables. Do you remember me?’

  ‘Of course, Sandy, how are you?’

  ‘Me, oh fine, fine, but, more importantly, how are you?’

  ‘I’m doing well, thanks, Sandy; getting on with life.’ />
  ‘Oh, that’s good. I often think about you, you’ve had such sadness. Now, I’m sorry to bother you. I haven’t got you at a bad moment, have I? I mean, I can call back, you know...’

  ‘It’s OK, Sandy. It’s not a bad time at all. How’s business?’

  ‘Could be better but that’s another story.’ She laughed loudly and sounded more relaxed. ‘The reason I’m phoning was to let you know that Colin dropped in last week. I hadn’t seen him for almost a year, he’s been living up in Mildura and…’

  ‘Colin?’

  ‘Oh yes, of course, silly me. Colin used to work here and he was my finder; he always knew if someone had stuff to sell or if there was a deceased sale. Anyway, I told him your story.’ She paused. ‘He remembered Maxine’s painting, and I mentioned that you had asked where we got it. Well, he reckons that he got it off some people who used to have a run-down farm near Woodend. He also bought some other pieces we sold: some lovely old kitchen chairs, a nice big wardrobe, and some old farm tools, bits and pieces. He bought the stuff off a lady whose hubby had passed away and she had to move. Anyway, he remembered her because she had this unusual name – Lisa Birdsong. He remembers because, and he laughed a treat when he told me, when she introduced herself, he thought she said, “Like a birdsong,” and was confused, but she spelt it out … it was Lisa Birdsong. Amazing, hey?’ She stopped. Then, sounding like she wasn’t sure why she was telling me, she added, ‘Anyway, I thought it might be of interest. He reckons she’s gone; this Lisa, I mean. He doesn’t know where she is but reckons he knows where the house is, if you wanted to go there.’

  I told her at length how much I appreciated her kindness. Then I remembered to ask the obvious question. ‘Did Colin see any other paintings at the house?’

  ‘That’s exactly what I asked – great minds think alike and all that, Carter – but he said no.’