‘Before you explain anything,’ Emma said. ‘I should tell you that I think I already know much of what you want to say. Your uncle Leonard told me a long time ago about the circumstances of your marriage.’
‘Uncle Leonard…’
Emma gently placed a finger over his mouth ‘I first met your uncle at your father’s home in Vaucluse. I went there to see you when I was pregnant. You were away on your honeymoon.’
‘Oh, Emma…’
She pressed her finger against his lips again.
‘Later, your uncle told me about the New Guard incident. It’s a secret I’ve shared with no one, not even my mother. Your uncle told me what could happen to you if your marriage were ever put at risk. I promised him I would never do anything to harm you. Now you must promise me that you will do nothing to harm yourself. If you do, you could tear all our lives apart. You must leave things as they are, for everyone’s sake. You must promise me you won’t complicate things. Especially now, when my family is going through hell.’
After a moment Stephen said: ‘It seems there’s little left for me to explain. And I do promise not to complicate your lives. You must know, I would never do anything to hurt you or Christopher. But I must know what has been happening over the years while everyone’s been so busy protecting me. Who’s been protecting you, and our son? And what is it that your family is going through? Surely there must be some way I can help.’
Christopher had already eaten and Molly had long since tucked him into his bed when Emma and Stephen emerged from the lounge room. They found Kathleen and Molly having dinner in the dining room.
‘We waited as long as we could, dear,’ Molly said. ‘But everything was beginning to get cold.’ She started to get up from the table. ‘Will Mr Fairchild be staying for dinner?’
‘Oh, no thank you, ’ Stephen said. He turned to Kathleen. It has been a pleasure to see you again, Mrs McKenna. I’m so sorry to have come at such a bad time.’
‘Stephen has offered to take me to Goondiwindi in his airplane first thing tomorrow, Mother,’ Emma announced. ‘Under the circumstances, I think it’s a good idea.’
The look on Kathleen’s face told Emma her mother didn’t share her view.
‘Mother, you realize the sooner I get there, the sooner I can bring Bruce home. I’ll be there in a matter of hours instead of days. Stephen will return to Sydney alone after we land at Goondiwindi. Bruce and I will come home on the train.’
*
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky when Stephen parked the Aston Martin beside the airfield hangar. With no room for a suitcase in the little biplane, Emma just brought a small canvas bag containing the bare essentials she would need for the journey and her father’s brown leather wallet.
Inside the hangar, Stephen gave Emma a pair of baggy overalls, a leather helmet and goggles, then left her to change while he went to file his flight plan. He was still going over flight details in the office when she joined him a few minutes later. She laid down her canvas bag and her wallet beside Stephen’s gear on the office counter and sat down to wait.
Emma was immersed in thoughts of Bruce and their reunion when Stephen grabbed the bags off the counter and announced they were ready to take-off. Emma’s excitement rose when they walked out to the aircraft and Stephen went through his pre-flight checks. Minutes later she felt sheer exhilaration when the little aircraft raced down the runway, lifted off and climbed up over Botany Bay in a wide arc to the north.
*
Eleanor looked across the breakfast table at Stephen’s empty chair. Once again her anger rose at his thoughtlessness. She had planned the social affair to the last detail. Now, she would have to entertain the long list of guests herself, just because Stephen had allowed an out-of-town legal matter to take precedence over her dinner party.
The maid brought the tray with the morning mail then went back inside the house. Eleanor flicked through it irritably. Nothing of importance except a couple of last-minute acceptances to the party. She fingered the morning paper restlessly, hearing the telephone ring inside the house. After a few moments the maid reappeared on the terrace.
‘Who was on the telephone, Mildred?’
‘He didn’t say, Mrs Fairchild. It was just a man from the airport where Mr Fairchild keeps his airplane.’
‘And?’
‘He said that Mr Fairchild’s passenger left a wallet at the office in the hangar.’
Eleanor looked puzzled. Stephen had said nothing of taking the plane. She had assumed he would be driving to his all-important out-of-town business.’
‘Did he say who the wallet belongs to?’
‘No, Mrs Fairchild. At first he thought it was yours. But when I told him you were here at the house, he said he had just assumed the young lady with Mr Fairchild was his wife.’
*
After briefly landing twice during the long flight northward, fuel was once again running low when the Curtis neared the small airstrip at Goondiwindi. By now it was mid-afternoon and the flying conditions had deteriorated. Cloud, which had started as just thin white wisps over New England had gradually developed into ominous dark thunderheads.
Emma was thankful when Stephen set the aircraft down on the parched brown paddock and taxied up to a lone hangar at the edge of the field. When Stephen helped her down from the cramped cockpit Emma was so stiff she had to coax her limbs into allowing her to stand erect before trying to walk.
Stephen took their bags from the plane and they walked into the hangar where he made arrangements for the aircraft to be refueled and stored inside overnight. It was when he was looking for transport from the airfield that Emma noticed her leather wallet was missing.
‘I must have left it at Mascot,’ Stephen said as they stood waiting for the Goondiwindi town taxi. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of money with me and your wallet will be there waiting when I get back.’
A thunderhead burst just as the taxi arrived and Emma and Stephen were glad to clamber into the back seat out of the rain. The driver was a scruffy unshaven old man but he was cheerful enough.
‘Come far today, have you?’
‘Sydney,’ Stephen said.
The driver whistled. ‘Long way to travel in one day. But thanks for bringing the rain with you. Now, where can I take you?’
‘Do you know where Harmony Jones’ place is?’ Emma asked.
The driver grinned. ‘Everybody knows where Harmony lives. You a friend of his?’
‘He’s an old friend of my father’s. They served together in the Light Horse.’
The driver turned his head just enough to see Emma. ‘Seems everybody did. Bruce McKenna, the young bloke that lives with Harmony told me his father served with him in the war.’
‘Bruce is my brother.’
The driver shrugged. ‘I never heard him mention he had a sister.’
No one spoke again for several minutes. Then the driver said: ‘This is the first year in a long time those two haven’t gone roo shooting up in the Warrego.’
‘Yes,’ Emma said. ‘That’s what Harmony’s friend, Mr Parson’s told me in Sydney.’
The rain had eased when the taxi reached the entrance to Harmony’s property. The gate across the track leading in was closed.
‘Looks like there’s no one here,’ the taxi-driver said. ‘This gate’s always open when there’s someone home.’
Emma’s heart sank. She turned to Stephen. ‘Mr Parsons said they never leave the place for long these days.’
‘They’re probably just in town,’ the driver said. ‘Or off somewhere, picking up or delivering horses. Anyway, Harmony always leaves a message if he goes off the place.’ The old man got out of the taxi and walked over to an old milk churn beside the gate which served as a mail box. He pulled out a piece of paper and read it. ‘Says here they’ve gone to Moree, be back before lunch tomorrow.’
*
The Palace Hotel was a grand old building facing onto the main street of Goondiwindi. It had two stori
es, each surrounded by a wide veranda and a steeply sloped red iron roof. Stephen took the two best adjacent rooms that were available.
Emma was disappointed at the delay in seeing Bruce. But as she lay soaking in a hot bath listening to the rain hammering on the hotel roof she was glad for the chance to relax and get a good night’s sleep before seeing him the next day.
‘If this rain keeps up you won’t be able to take off in the morning, will you?’’ Emma asked later as they ate dinner in the hotel dining room.
‘It’s hard to tell,’ Stephen said. ‘The runway itself seems hard enough. If the rain stops soon and skies clear during the night I should be able to get away. But I want to be with you when you see your brother. Before I leave, I need to know that you’ve found him all right. What you told me last night about Hope Farm and Patrick Coltrane was awful. Sometimes things like that can leave scars for life.’
He reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. ‘I couldn’t bear to think of you worrying about anything anymore, Emma. Heaven knows, you’ve suffered enough. You’ve carried so much on your shoulders alone, and for so long. Now, I want you to let me share the load.’
‘Stephen, you promised last night not to complicate things.’
‘And I won’t. But I’ll always need to know you’re happy and not wanting for anything.’
‘Mother and I have always managed to keep the wolf from the door. Bruce will be home with us soon, and I’ve managed to build up a good business which will look after us all. We can’t ask for much more.’
‘About this account Uncle Leonard set up.’ Stephen took his hand from hers and offered her wine. Emma declined and he filled his own glass. ‘You will allow me to increase the amount?’
‘Why? I don’t need it. Every penny that’s been deposited is still sitting there in the bank, plus interest.’
‘But you promise to use it if there’s anything Christopher ever needs.’
‘Yes.’
Stephen took a sip of wine and stared thoughtfully into the glass. After a moment he said, ‘Emma, I know I have no right to ask. But has there been anyone else?’
‘Yes, there has.’ Emma saw Stephen’s jaw tighten. ‘And he’s a wonderful man. He’s always worked with the poor, the unemployed and the underprivileged. He helped me cope emotionally when I’d hit rock bottom, when I was homeless, unmarried, and pregnant. He never offered me any material things. He never could. He’s never had a brass razoo to his name. But over the years he was always there when I needed someone, helping in any way he could. He was there the night Christopher was born on a back porch in Redfern, and he was a father to him when I was too busy working to be a proper mother. He’s what the authorities call a troublemaker. And yesterday I saw him sent to jail for standing up for what he believes in.’ A slight waver had crept into Emma’s voice. ‘I only wish that I could love him the way I know he loves me.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But that would make life too easy, wouldn’t it?’
*
Emma lay awake in her bed. The rain eased sometime after midnight and soon after stopped completely. The silence that followed seemed more deafening than the rain pounding on the roof.
When she came upstairs with Stephen after dinner, they had stood outside on the veranda and talked, even though they were both dog-tired. When she said she must say goodnight and go to bed, they were suddenly in each others arms and kissing. But before the inevitable could happen, Emma quickly went to her room and Stephen went to his.
Emma expected to sleep the moment her head touched the pillow. But her mind wouldn’t allow it. She thought of Bruce and how their meeting would be the next day. And she thought of Jack and wondered how much time it would take to fill the void in her heart. Then she thought of Patrick Coltrane and of how one man could inflict such pain on her family. And she wondered if Stephen, like her, couldn’t find sleep, and whether he would come to her during the night. It was when she was thinking of Stephen, and hoping he would come, that at last she fell asleep in the early hours of the morning.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The rain had cleared by morning. After an early breakfast Emma and Stephen took the town taxi to Harmony’s sixty acres. When they arrived, the gate across the track leading in was still closed. But Stephen paid the driver and when the car drove off, Emma took his hand and they picked their way down through the puddles to the house, where they sat on the veranda to wait.
A little over an hour later a stock truck turned into the property. Emma and Stephen stood up and watched it drive up to the house. When it stopped in the yard two men stepped out of the cab. Both were tall and lean and wore broad-brimmed hats. One wore a patch over his right eye. Emma’s heart sank when she saw no sign of a young boy.
‘Can I help you, miss?’ The man with the patch asked. ‘I’m Harmony Jones.’
‘Mr Jones,’ Emma said quickly. ‘I’m Emma McKenna. Don’t you remember me? I…’
‘Emma…?’
It was the second man who spoke. His face slowly broke into a wide grin as he took off his broad-brimmed hat, tossed it aside and bounded towards her. Emma’s face was a picture of sheer delight and amazement as she recognized her brother and marveled at how much he had grown.
Bruce reached Emma in a few giant strides and he flung his big arms round her, lifting her off her feet and swinging her high in the air.
‘Oh, Emma,’ he cried out ecstatically, ‘I’d just about given up all hope of ever seeing you again.’
*
The runway at the airfield was elevated just enough to ensure it drained well and Stephen took off shortly before midday into a clear blue sky. Seeing Emma so happy had lifted his spirits and he would have liked to have stayed at the one-eyed horse trader’s farm a little longer to share her joy. But when Emma’s elation turned to outrage as Bruce’s story unfolded, he and Harmony had left brother and sister alone to share their family’s personal grief.
Outside on the veranda, Harmony told Stephen of how he had come to hear of the twins’ plight from Braithewaite’s clerk and of how he’d taken the law into his own hands and taken Bruce and Strickland off Hope Farm. He had also told Stephen of his haunting fear that he might have killed Brother Lucas in the process.
Stephen looked down at the vast landscape beneath him. How peaceful and tranquil it all looked from high in the air. He pondered how the radiant face of the land belied any trace of the complex and troublesome lives of the people who lived in its shadows. He turned his eyes to the pristine brightness of the wide blue sky above him and wished he could remain aloft forever.
He was not looking forward to returning to Sydney and was glad his late departure from Goondiwindi prevented him from arriving there in daylight. Because of that, he had decided earlier to put down in Port Macquarie and spend the night at his uncle Leonard’s home.
*
Harmony cooked corned beef and cabbage for the evening meal.
‘It was a chance in a million seeing Snakeoil in Sydney,’ he said afterwards as he sat around the kitchen table sharing a pot of tea with Emma and Bruce.
‘Hearing him you mean,’ Emma said, smiling. ‘Who could mistake that voice?’
Harmony shook his head. ‘Snakeoil only goes to Sydney once a year when his hotel wine and spirit wholesaler pays his way down there. And I doubt he ever misses the opportunity to flap his face in front of a crowd in Hyde Park.’
Emma laid her hand over Harmony’s. ‘I’m just so grateful for everything, Mr Jones…’
‘It’s Harmony, Emma,’ Harmony said sternly. ‘How many times do I have to tell you. And besides, I only did what your father would have expected of me. The ones to thank are your Aunt Laura and Gerald Braithewaite.’
‘I only wish I could thank Mr Braithewaite,’ Emma said sadly, ‘but I’ll telephone Aunt Laura before we leave for Sydney and thank her.’
‘You better hope Uncle Patrick doesn’t answer the phone,’ Bruce said quickly. ‘And be careful. Don’t breathe a word about this
place. You never know. The police may still be looking for Harmony and me.’
‘I hear your uncle spends most of his time in Canberra these days, Emma,’ Harmony said. ‘I suppose you’ve read in the newspapers how important he’s made himself down there. He’s got a lot of support around the country on account of his communist and Aborigine bashing.’ Harmony drained his tea cup. ‘Some folk say he’ll finish up in Joe Lyons’ cabinet.’
‘Heaven forbid,’ Emma said. She poured more tea. ‘Now, let’s not talk about Patrick Coltrane. He’s someone I would just as soon forget.’
*
Stephen landed in Port Macquarie just before sunset. By the time he had seen to the plane and reached Leonard’s house it was dark. Mrs Bennett’s face beamed when she answered the front door bell and found Stephen standing outside.
‘Oh, Mr Stephen. What a lovely surprise.’
Stephen grinned and kissed the elderly housekeeper on the cheek.. ‘Hello Mrs B. Am I in time for dinner?’
‘Stephen, how nice to see you.’ Leonard Fairchild appeared in the hallway from an adjoining room. He looked tanned and relaxed in an open-necked shirt and white cotton slacks. ‘Your aunt is visiting friends in Coffs Harbor and I was just about to sit down to dinner alone. Now I have an excuse to open some decent wine.’
‘You really should have let us know you were coming,’ Leonard said as they entered the dining room. ‘It would give Mrs B a chance to prepare your room and fuss over you with some fancy cooking. How long will you be staying?’
‘Just until the morning.’
‘Oh dear, young people these days never seem to have time to relax and enjoy themselves,’ Leonard said as they sat down. ‘Now, is there any special reason for your visit?’
‘I want to talk to you about Emma McKenna.’
‘Emma McKenna?’ Leonard paused, as if testing his memory. ‘What about her?’
‘There’s no need to pretend, Uncle Leonard. I know about the child and I know about the bank account.’
Leonard looked Stephen square in the eye.
‘How?’
The Light Horseman's Daughter Page 27