Emma was so pleased, she hurried to Mrs Nadin’s to share the good news. Rushing up the boarding house steps, she didn’t notice the man in flying leathers standing off to one side.
‘Hello, Emma.’
The voice was familiar. She turned her head. Stephen Fairchild stood smiling at her from the end of the veranda.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bruce found his silent world intolerable. No one had spoken to him since his first day at Hope Farm, other than Brother Josef giving him orders or a hasty whisper from Jack when he thought no one was watching. Completely ignored by everyone else, he spent his long days alone in the fields in utter despair and despondency.
Brother Lucas kept the twins apart as much as he could. They were not allowed to sit together at mealtimes and Bruce was continually rostered on field work while Jack spent his days in the classroom. Even Strickland, the tormentor, never risked Brother Lucas’ wrath by breaking the awful silence. The boys still slept in the same dormitory, but they were not allowed to be there together without Strickland being present to insure there was no talking.
Bruce sat morosely in the dining room, eating little of his evening meal. It was at mealtimes that the loneliness was the worst. Sitting dejected and alienated, surrounded by his peers all noisily communicating with everyone but him, he felt invisible, imprisoned in a bad dream from which he couldn’t wake, like a ghost from another world mournfully looking in on the living. The only recognition of his existence was an occasional rueful glance from Jack from across the room or a stern vindictive stare from Brother Lucas at the head table.
Each night after the evening meal Brother Lucas handed out mail. He would call out the names of the recipients and the boys would go to the head table and collect their letters. Tonight, like every night, Bruce desperately hoped for a letter from his sister. He had already written to her telling her what was happening at Hope Farm, but the letter was still under his mattress awaiting an address to send it to. Brother Lucas called out the last name. Once again there was no word from Emma.
Bruce went directly to the dormitory after leaving the dining room, preferring the private sanctuary of his bed to humiliating solitude in the common room. He undressed quickly, got into bed and pulled the covers up over his head.
Downstairs, Jack sat by himself in the common room as he did every night until Strickland allowed him to go upstairs. He had an open book in his lap but hadn’t read a word. He just sat brooding moodily on his brother’s fate. He wished he had the courage to try and do something. Suddenly, he decided he would. Slamming the book shut he stood up and walked from the room.
His burst of bravado all but evaporated when he reached Brother Lucas’ office and he nearly turned around and went back to the common room. But he thought of Bruce, took a deep breath and knocked on Brother Lucas’ door.
‘Come in.’
Jack entered the room cautiously. Brother Lucas was sitting at his desk, writing. When he looked up he seemed surprised to see Jack.
‘Well, Jack. What is it?’
‘Brother Lucas, I…’ Jack felt his face flush. He wanted to turn and run.
‘Yes, Jack,’ Brother Lucas’ tone became conciliatory, even friendly.
Brother Lucas’ amiable manner made Jack less nervous. ‘It’s about Bruce.’ he said. ‘Please, don’t punish him anymore. He didn’t really mean to lie. It’s just that our sister told us not to part with the money unless there was an emergency. He…’ Tears suddenly welled in Jack’s eyes and rolled down his cheeks. In moments, he was crying uncontrollably.
Brother Lucas quickly crossed the room and closed the office door. Jack stood staring down at the floor. He was trembling, desperately trying to stem the flood of tears. He felt thin bony hands on his shoulders then his face was drawn into the blackness of Brother Lucas’ cassock.
`There, there, my son. Don’t cry.’ Brother Lucas ran a comforting hand through Jack’s hair. Jack was reminded of his father and happier times. His crying turned to loud choking sobs. When his sobbing eased, Brother Lucas led him to a small sofa and they sat down. Brother Lucas drew Jack close to him and held him there. He gently wiped a tear from the boy’s cheek with the back of his hand.
‘You must understand, Jack, what I did was done for the good of everyone. It really is true that sometimes one has to be cruel to be kind. Without honesty and discipline, we can’t all live here together as one large happy, trusting family. And it is my responsibility to see to it that we do that. You must believe me when I say it hurt me more than Bruce when I was forced to discipline him. Can you believe that Jack?’
Jack slowly raised his head. The tears had stopped now, but his heavy breathing was interrupted intermittently by loud hiccups. He looked confused and very vulnerable as he tried hard to comprehend what Brother Lucas had said.
Brother Lucas pursed his lips into a tight smile. He patted Jack’s knee. ‘Perhaps now we’ve had this little chat, Jack we can become friends. If we were friends it would be easier for me to make things better for your brother and to bring him back into the fold. Would you like that?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Jack said, grateful for the direction his visit to Brother Lucas was taking.
‘Very well then, ’ Brother Lucas patted Jack’s knee again. This time the hand lingered. After a moment it slid upwards and his bony fingers gently caressed Jack’s inner thigh. ‘Shall we be friends then?’
Jack froze. No one had ever touched him like that before. He was confused and afraid and didn’t know what to do. He wanted to get up off the sofa, or at least put some space between himself and Brother Lucas. But he did neither. He just smiled a short uncertain smile and said:
All right, Brother Lucas.’
*
Emma assumed Stephen had come to Armidale to attend a meeting of the New England Movement which she had seen posted all over town. When Stephen told her that the only reason he had come was to see her, she was thrilled.
‘But how did you know where I was? she asked incredulously.
‘I asked the Coltrane’s.’
‘You were at Essex Downs?’
‘Yes. I stayed there overnight. They said you and your mother were in Armidale. I called in at Crestview and Miss Potts said you were here.’
That night they ate dinner by candlelight in the Victoria Hotel where Stephen had taken a room. They sat across from each other at a small table for two. Emma wore her simple white dress with the red sash. Emma thought how handsome he looked in the same lounge suit he’d worn at dinner at Essex Downs. He looked suave, confident and self-assured. Emma knew Stephen drew glances from other women in the room and she knew he pretended not to notice.
After the meal they drank coffee and made easy conversation, oblivious to the other diners around them. Suddenly they noticed the time and had to run all the way to get back to Mrs Nadin’s before her nine o’clock curfew.
The next morning they went together to Crestview to visit Kathleen. She was delighted with Emma’s news of her job at Mrs Shapiro’s. When Emma introduced Stephen, Kathleen was pleasant and polite but seemed reserved, unclear and confused about Stephen’s connection with the Coltranes.
Emma and Stephen spent the rest of the day sightseeing. They visited Armidale’s historic cathedrals. Later they took a special bus to see the grandeur of Woolomombi Falls, twenty- five miles east of the town They took a picnic hamper with them especially prepared by the chef at the Victoria Hotel.
On the way back to town, Stephen told Emma he was flying to Port Macquarie the next day to visit an uncle and aunt who had a seaside home there. He asked her if she would like to go with him. She scoffed at the suggestion and told him racy Sydney girls might do things like that but not well-bred girls from the bush. Stephen had laughed but persisted, insisting the coast was little more than an hour away by plane.
That night they dined at the same candlelit table in the dining room of the hotel and he asked again. This time she agreed to go. But only if he was absolutely sure tha
t the visit wouldn’t inconvenience his relatives in any way.
*
The noise was almost deafening. But at last Emma’s heart had stopped trying to burst out of her chest.
She still really couldn’t believe it was all happening. But here she was, high in the sky and apart from the nerve-wracking noise of the engine and the humming of the wind in the wing-stays, she was having the time of her life. It was mid-morning and the sun shone brightly in a clear sky. Far below, the mountains and deep green valleys of the Great Dividing Range lay basking in its warmth.
The weather began to deteriorate as they neared the coast and it became markedly cooler in the cockpit of the biplane. Emma was glad of the hopelessly oversized flying jacket and breeches Stephen had insisted she wear in addition to the mandatory leather helmet and goggles. Suddenly a loud noise above the roar of the aircraft’s engine startled Emma. It was Stephen banging with his fist on the fuselage of the plane to attract her attention. He pointed ahead and lowered the nose of the aircraft a little.
Emma saw the ocean and gasped. How beautiful it looked from the air, gleaming and shimmering in the sun. And nestled beside it lay the lovely town of Port Macquarie. Emma found it hard to imagine such a beautiful place could have been the site of an infamous penal settlement just a century before. Then Stephen pointed to the south and Emma saw black clouds were rolling in over the horizon.
The tone of the engine changed abruptly when Stephen eased back the throttle and began their descent. Soon the airplane was very close to the ground approaching a dirt airstrip on the edge of the town. Emma’s heart was in her mouth. As the ground came rushing up at them she took a firm grip on each side of the cockpit, closed her eyes and waited.
The impact was softer than she expected. Then suddenly they were safely taxiing toward a hangar at the edge of the airfield. Several men came out of the hangar and enthusiastically gathered around the state-of-the-art American Curtiss aircraft even before it had come to a complete stop.
Stephen cut the engine, jumped from the cockpit and helped Emma to the ground. He walked around the aircraft making a quick routine check, then made arrangements for the plane to be refueled and looked after while it was at the airfield.
It was raining when Stephen and Emma arrived by taxi at a large two-story house perched high on a hill overlooking the ocean. Below the house, big surf crashed onto the beach of a wide horseshoe-shaped bay close to the mouth of the Hastings River and the little town’s boat haven.
When Stephen rang the bell, the front door was opened by an elderly uniformed housekeeper. She smiled happily when she recognized Stephen and swung the door open wide.
‘Oh, Mister Stephen. Come in. Oh, this is such a lovely surprise.’
‘Hello Mrs B,’ Stephen said cheerfully as they stepped inside the house. ‘This is my friend Emma McKenna from Armidale.’
‘Welcome to Port Macquarie Miss McKenna,’ Mrs Bennett said. She turned to Stephen. ‘I’m afraid your uncle and aunt went to Sydney yesterday, Stephen. Your uncle said he had business which may keep him there for several days and Mrs Fairchild decided to go with him. They will be sorry to have missed you. How long will you be here?’
‘Just for a few hours, Mrs B.’
The housekeeper seemed disappointed. ‘Oh what a pity. There’s always so much for young people to do at Port Macquarie. But from the look of it outside we may be in for a change in the weather. You two go on into the sunroom and I’ll bring you in a nice pot of tea.’
‘Don’t you go to any trouble now, Mrs B,’ Stephen said sternly.
‘It’s no trouble, Mister Stephen.’ Mrs Bennett gave Stephen a motherly smile.
Emma smiled. As soon as they were alone she said, ‘I can see Mrs B likes you Stephen. How long has she been here?’
‘As long as I can remember,’ Stephen said as he led the way through the house to the sun room.’
‘Do you come here often?’
‘Not too much anymore. I used to come a lot during school holidays when I was a child, then later when I was at university. I’ve always liked my uncle Leonard. Over the years, we’ve had a special sort of relationship. I suppose he’s what you’d call a self-made man. My father carried on the family tradition and chose to be a lawyer. Uncle Leonard became successful the hard way. He left school early, started his first business at eighteen and worked like hell. It’s a pity you won’t be able to meet him; I know you’d like him.’
The sunroom was huge and filled with comfortable cane furniture. Two large fans hung from the high ceiling. Wide French doors led out onto a long veranda. Stephen led Emma through them. From the veranda the views were stunning.
‘It’s all so beautiful here, Stephen,’ Emma said. ‘What does your uncle do?’
‘He’s semi-retired now, but he still has business interests and holds directorships on the boards of several companies. This place used to be a holiday home when he and my aunt lived in Sydney but now they live here most of the year.’
Emma walked to the edge of the veranda and stood looking out to sea. Stephen followed her and put his arms around her. She turned around and he kissed her gently. He hadn’t kissed her before. She’d wondered when he would. She cradled his head in her hands. He drew her even closer to him and they kissed again.
‘I couldn’t stop thinking about you Emma,’ he whispered, ‘I just had to go back to Essex Downs.’ His lips were just an inch from her ear. ‘Did you think of me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Often?’
‘Yes.’
*
The weather closed in quickly as the infamous New South Wales southerly buster swept northward. By mid-afternoon it was plain they would not be able to return to Armidale. Stephen phoned the airfield to arrange for the plane to be put inside the hangar. Emma telephoned Crestview and asked Miss Potts to tell her mother and to try and get word to Mrs Nadin that they were grounded in Port Macquarie.
That night Emma lay luxuriating in the huge guestroom bed. She was very tired but reluctant to sleep. It had been such a wonderful day. Outside in the darkness, the surf relentlessly pounded the beach under rainy skies. A strong wind hissed through the tall palms outside her window.
It was almost midnight. An hour earlier she had returned drenched and windswept from a walk on the beach with Stephen. She could have walked with him forever, but the storm allowed them only a few minutes before they were soaked and had to return to the house. When they came in from the beach, arms wrapped around each other, Mrs B made them hot cocoa.
There were six bedrooms in the house. Four faced out over the ocean. All had French doors leading out onto a long single balcony. Mrs Bennett had prepared front rooms for both Emma and Stephen at opposite ends of the house. Emma smiled to herself and wondered whether the distance between herself and Stephen was just by chance or was a result of Mrs Bennett’s prudence.
Sleep was finally overtaking her when she thought she heard a soft tapping on her bedroom door above the howl of the wind and the roar of the surf. She lay still and listened and heard it again. She got up quickly and opened the door just an inch or two. Stephen stood outside. She opened the door wider and took his hand. He had come to her just as she had expected.
Not a word passed between them while Stephen gently unbuttoned Emma’s nightdress and let it fall to the floor. Then he took off his own clothes and a moment later they lay together, bodies entwined, eagerly but gently exploring each other. Emma felt the tide rising within her. She had never gone this far before. She knew she shouldn’t go any further, but already the tide that engulfed her was sweeping her away. And when Stephen’s body demanded she give her all, she gave it willingly.
*
The weather improved the next morning but not enough to allow them to fly. They walked into town and Emma bought a warm jumper. They ate lunch at a small seafood restaurant then walked along the beach in the wind and the rain. The skies began to clear just as the light began to fade in the late afternoon. After dinne
r they walked along the beach again under the stars.
Emma knew she would never forget those two magical rainy days in Port Macquarie. The next day she would return to the reality of Mrs Nadin’s boarding house and the day after that, begin work as a piecework seamstress, while Stephen would return to his work and his privileged life in Sydney.
He came to her again that night. After they had made love, they lay in each others arms listening to the roar of the surf and talking in soft tones.
‘I wish this could go on forever, Emma.’ Stephen said. ‘If only you could live in Sydney.’
‘You know that’s impossible,’ Emma’s finger traced a path around his mouth. ‘I have responsibilities.’
‘It must be very difficult for you, Emma.’
‘Oh, I’m sure the worst is over now. At least my family’s settled and I have a job.’ After a moment she said, ‘Besides, if I lived in Sydney, what would you do with all those society girls?’
Stephen said nothing. For a moment he seemed thoughtful.
‘Is there someone special, Stephen?’
He kissed her cheek. ‘There’s no one like you Emma.’
‘Will you be coming to New England again?’ she asked. ‘You know, on this separation business.’
‘I don’t really know.’
‘And what about this New Guard Movement? I saw your picture in the paper a little while ago. Is it really that important?’
‘The establishment in Sydney seems to think so.’
‘Do you?’
‘Yes, I do. The whole country’s in a mess. The state and federal governments haven’t got a clue what to do. There could be a revolution. Someone’s got to do something. I think I can do my bit in the New Guard.’
She pressed her finger into his chin. ‘You know what I think, Stephen Fairchild? I think you just like flying around the countryside in that plane of yours.’
He smiled.
‘But I don’t blame you,’ Emma said. ‘I think flying is the most exciting thing I’ve ever done in my life.’
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