by Tony Parsons
‘Mum, Ian and I are engaged,’ Moira said in a rush of words.
‘Well, that is good news,’ Catriona said and kissed them both.
‘And we’ll be living here. I believe Dad is giving us Dixon’s as a wedding present.’
‘Less a couple of hundred thousand, which Ian is going to contribute to its purchase,’ David said. ‘So you’ll have a wedding to organise, Cat. That and the book ought to keep you busy.’
‘And I suppose your only contribution will be to act the role of the proud father on the day,’ Catriona mocked.
‘I’ll be contributing a bit more than that, sweetheart,’ he said, and thought about what Dixon’s was going to cost him. The house would have to be renovated and painted on top of that, and then there was the cost of the wedding. But there was only one daughter so he had to make a job of the wedding. He hoped Moira wouldn’t want it in Sydney because if she did a lot of their friends probably wouldn’t go. Some couldn’t afford to go.
‘We had better have a little preliminary talk about how you want it done, Moira. Put the jug on would you please, David,’ Catriona said. She flashed him the smile she had perfected over the years. It implied a lot and usually signified that she was very well pleased with something he had done.
‘Isn’t it a bit early for that?’ Moira asked.
‘I suppose it is, but I’d like to have a general idea of what you would like. We need to think about booking a church and reception place,’ Catriona replied.
‘I’ll talk to Ian and see if he has any ideas,’ Moira said, and gave him a quick smile.
‘Traditionally the planning of a wedding has very little to do with the bridegroom, darling. We have to do the organising. You can talk to Ian about where you spend your honeymoon – that’s his responsibility. Of course, you could always go to the house at Yeppoon, but Ian may have grander ideas. Does Ian know about the house we have there?’ Catriona asked.
‘As a matter of fact, he doesn’t. There have been too many other things to discuss. I didn’t get around to mentioning it,’ Moira said.
‘I’d like to take Moira somewhere really special,’ Ian said. ‘I’m sure the Yeppoon house is very nice but I’d like to go to some place she hasn’t been to before.’
Catriona thought of her own honeymoon at the Yeppoon house. She had waited years for David and to finally have him to herself had been sheer bliss. He had surprised her with his loving and his attentiveness those early heavenly weeks of their marriage. She had told him so at the close of their second week at Yeppoon. ‘You’re a surprise packet, David MacLeod,’ she had said, resting on one elbow and looking down at him.
‘How so?’ he asked sleepily.
‘I didn’t think you would be so, so …’
‘So what, Cat?’
‘Well, so loving. It doesn’t go with your tough bushy image.’
David had laughed and pulled her down to him. ‘Funny you should say that, Cat. Three people told me I had to forget about everything but you. They all told me, in different ways mind you, how I should treat you. As if they needed to tell me.’
‘Who told you, David?’
‘Dad, Mum and Kate, sweetheart. Who else? Mum and Kate gave me the drill from your side of things and Dad added a few extra details. He had never spoken to me about that sort of thing – Mum did all that. The first time was after I had the fight with Stanley Masters and before Jane gave me that party.’
Catriona dragged herself back to the present. ‘I had a lovely honeymoon at the Yeppoon house. It was wonderful, wasn’t it, David?’
‘Fantastic, sweetheart. And then we went over to Aberfeldy and cut out cattle for a few days. I suppose you could say that I had the rough and the smooth of things,’ he said with a broad grin.
‘David,’ Catriona protested.
‘Dad, that was naughty of you,’ Moira added.
Ian appeared lost for words.
‘I can recommend the Yeppoon house, Ian. Cat and I were very happy there and it won’t cost you a red cent into the bargain. If Cat and Moira are going to talk wedding, you and I can push off. I want to talk to you about those dog pens you want to build. If you’re going to live at Dixon’s, you can put them up there. But if you’re going to live at Glen Morrison, they’ll have to be built well away from the other buildings.’
He put down his cup and stood up. ‘Let’s hit the track, Ian.’
The two women watched them walk down the path. ‘Ian will get jolly tired of hearing David’s “let’s hit the track”,’ Catriona said.
‘Oh, I don’t know. The others all stood up to it fairly well. Even Sarah.’
‘Sarah would have tolerated anything David said … or did. Poor Sarah. They’ll all have to come to the reception, Moira. Let’s start on a list. I’ll put down who I think should come and you can add the people you want.’
‘Very well, Mum,’ Moira said patiently, glowing from the events of the day.
Chapter Twenty-three
Catriona had assumed that her own vision for Moira’s wedding would be approved by her daughter without much argument. She soon discovered, however, that when it came to nailing down the essential details Moira had very firm ideas from which she could not be budged.
Mother and daughter had completely different views about where the wedding should be held. Catriona wanted the actual ceremony held in Sydney, which Moira vetoed immediately. She had spoken to her father and his view on the matter matched her own – the wedding should be held in the country. If St David’s in Merriwa wasn’t large enough to accommodate the number of people likely to attend, then they could hold the ceremony in Scone. Like David, Moira was concerned that a lot of people who would like to see her married wouldn’t be able to afford a weekend in Sydney. Well, they might be able to afford it but it was likely to be an extravagance they’d prefer to avoid. There was Greg and Liz and Shaun and the Barden boys, but most of all there was Anne. A trip to Sydney would be too trying for Nanna. Catriona argued her case but lost. The wedding would be in Scone.
Catriona thought that the reception should be held in a hall in either Merriwa or Scone. Moira, however, wanted it held in a marquee at home. Where exactly, she hadn’t decided, but definitely at home. Large marquees were available, some of them lined with silk and designed especially for wedding receptions, and these were commodious enough to accommodate the number of guests they planned to invite, as well as a band and a dance floor.
David said that although High Peaks had the most sentimental appeal for siting a marquee, there wasn’t enough flat ground to peg it out. The reception would have to be held at either Poitrel or Glen Morrison, and David favoured the latter. It had the grandest homestead and there was a large area of well-grassed flat ground alongside it that was perfect for a marquee. It had plenty of parking space into the bargain. These were sound reasons, but one reason David didn’t give for hosting the reception at Glen Morrison was that there would be a number of guests from interstate who hadn’t seen his prized stud bulls and rams. These were housed only a couple of hundred metres from the Glen Morrison homestead, and David reckoned it was a safe bet that some of the keener land people would end up in the sheds looking at his livestock. This could mean a sale or two.
It wasn’t that he was money-mad, but the fact was that as things were on the land now, you couldn’t afford to neglect the chance of making a sale. Stud breeding was a very competitive business and you had to be on the job all the time.
The only issue Catriona and Moira agreed upon was the dress. Unlike some of her friends who had opted for off-the-shoulder wedding dresses, Moira had her heart set on an older-style gown along the lines of her mother’s. She had dressed up in her mother’s wedding gown on more than one occasion and had a very good idea how she would look in a similar dress. The heavy satin gown with its opalescent overtones had become slightly discoloured and lost its lusture so she couldn’t use her mother’s original dress, but was determined to model her own dress on its style.
The two women went back to Newcastle and looked at shops in new suburbs and old without finding the kind of dress Moira had set her heart on. After several fruitless hours they walked down a small arcade in search of a place to have a cup of tea and a sandwich before making the return drive to Merriwa. Right at the end of the arcade they found a boutique they hadn’t previously visited. Both women pulled up dead at what they saw in the window. A single dress was spotlighted in the shop’s foreground falling to the floor in perfect folds. The dress’s satin body lining was overlaid by a shimmering, transparent, gossamer-like organza. Tiny pearls covered the almost butterfly, puff sleeves, which came to just above the elbow. Clear organza adorned by a delicate swirl of lace flowers extended from below the elbow and tapered to the wrist. The bodice was nipped at the waist and billowed out to a full skirt and long wide train. Semicircular trails of lacy organza flowers were featured at intervals on back and front to the hemline. Transparent organza joined the small lace collar to the bust line.
‘Crikey, what a dress,’ Moira said. ‘Do you think it’s my size?’
Moira was five feet nine inches on the old scale and she had a bust to equal her mother’s. If the dress fitted her, she had the figure to carry off the ornate gown.
‘It might need some alterations but we won’t know until you’ve tried it on,’ Catriona told her.
There was one big snag – the shop was closed. A small card taped to the inside of the glass door informed prospective clients of the boutique that the shop would be closed until ten-thirty the following Monday.
‘Blast,’ Moira said. It was a word she had picked up from her father who sometimes used it very forcefully, and it caused her mother to frown. Moira’s speech, in Catriona’s opinion, occasionally lapsed into an earthiness that belied her boarding-school education.
‘Don’t fret, Moira. We’ve got the name of this boutique. We can track down the owners through Telstra and get them to hold the dress until we can get back here next Monday.’
Both women were mesmerised by the gown. Catriona was certain that Grandma Jane’s milk opal brooch, which Catriona had worn at her own wedding, would look perfect pinned to the transparent neckline. They debated together whether a long or short veil would be preferable and, like most brides-to-be, Moira was getting well and truly caught up in her coming wedding.
‘Exciting, isn’t it, darling?’ Catriona said.
Moira nodded. ‘To think that everyone will be looking at me!’
‘You will be a lovely bride, Moira, and David will be the proudest man in the country when he escorts you down the aisle. Dougal is very clever and Angus is very talented but you are David’s crowning achievement. The fact that you want to stay here, to be with him, puts the icing on the cake for your father. That was why he reacted so strongly to your flirtation with Gary Trainor. It was something like waving a red rag at a bull, Moira.’
Moira wrinkled her pretty nose and grimaced. ‘Don’t remind me of that episode.’
‘There’s also the special fact that Anne is still here to be at your wedding. That will put a lot of gloss on the day for David, and will mean the world to your grandmother. You couldn’t have had a better father, Moira. And you’re so like him in so many ways.’
‘And not like you, Mum?’
‘Not much like me, dear. Except in figure.’
‘I’ve been lucky in that department – unless I can’t squeeze into that dress,’ Moira said, and laughed.
‘We’ll cross that hurdle when we come to it, Moira,’ Catriona replied, sensing her daughter’s anxiety.
Catriona tracked down the owner of the boutique who assured her that the dress would be held for her if she could be sure she would be back at the shop on Monday morning. So Catriona and Moira drove back to Newcastle and Moira tried on the dress. It was too tight on her but Dell Cousins, the owner of the boutique, told her that it could be altered. As Catriona expected, the gown was very expensive. She paid a substantial deposit and made plans to return in a fortnight.
By the time they returned, the dress fitted perfectly. It was wrapped in tissue and boxed, and they took it back to High Peaks. Moira was enormously relieved that she had her dress and began to look at other matters relating to the wedding. Her bridesmaids were to be two special girlfriends from boarding-school days, Charlotte Bowers and Felicity McDonald. Charlotte had married early and Moira had been one of her bridesmaids. Felicity had spent some time overseas but was now with an advertising agency in North Sydney. Charlotte had a three-year old daughter, Kara, who was the obvious choice for flower girl. Charlotte would be matron of honour and Felicity her other bridesmaid. As both Charlotte and her daughter had auburn hair and Felicity was a brunette, certain colours were taboo. After conferring with her mother and both Charlotte and Felicity, Moira settled on aqua blue. Kara would wear a white organza frock with puffed sleeves and an aqua satin sash. David resolutely refused to consider wearing anything grander than a black dinner suit and Ian was easy on the matter of clothes, so that point was settled without fuss.
The catering again came up for discussion with suggestions that it be done by a professional catering company in Scone. Moira and David resisted strongly. David, with his pro-bush sentiments, wanted Merriwa people to do the catering. He suggested that rather than giving the job to one organisation, such as the RSL, the work be divided among the RSL, the bowling club and a small catering business run by a local woman. If any one of the three didn’t agree, they didn’t have to be involved. David wasn’t going to have it said that he ignored the locals. It would be a big reception, big enough for the three organisations to get something out of it, and that was the way he wanted it. Of course, he got his way and nobody had cause to complain about the quality of the food. The reception would be held in a grand, silk-lined marquee and there would be a covered walkway connecting it to Glen Morrison homestead – a precautionary measure in case of rain. The marquee and coolroom were supplied by a Tamworth company.
There were a few extra details such as the hire of limousines to bring the bridal party back from Scone to Glen Morrison, and a band to play music for the dancing. David and Catriona didn’t stint on anything because this would be their only opportunity to stage a wedding and they wanted it to be an unforgettable day for all who attended.
There were a great many other things to attend to – not the least of which was where relations were going to stay. Ian’s best man was Greg Roper who had been with him at school, and his other groomsman was Lisle Weston who had been through law school with him. They were all going to stay at a Scone motel. David booked out the Merriwa motel for two nights because even with all the homesteads he had, there would not be enough accommodation for everyone without it. Ian’s mother, Marilyn, and his sister Lynn, would be staying with David and Catriona, along with Charlotte and Felicity. On the Friday Moira and Catriona drove to Tamworth to pick them up from the airport and had their hair done while in the city.
It was a clear, almost cloudless spring day when the morning of Moira’s wedding finally arrived. Catriona and Dougal arrived at the church some minutes before the bridal cars and, before entering the church on the arm of her eldest son, Catriona fussed over her daughter, ensuring Moira’s train fanned behind her perfectly. Almost as soon as Catriona had slipped into the front pew beside Anne, Angus and Sue-Ellen, the organ burst forth triumphantly with the wedding march. Everyone in the church craned their necks for a first view of the wedding party, but more specifically the bride.
Almost bursting with the importance of her role, the little flower girl played her part like a professional, leading the bridesmaids
up the aisle like a fairy. Charlotte and Felicity followed, each carrying a magnificent bouquet of Cécile Brünner roses. Eyes were misty as they turned to gaze on Ms Moira MacLeod and her handsome father. A shaft of light from the stained-glass windows high up in the church fell obliquely across the aisle as Moira, on her father’s arm, glided forward, smiling and nodding at the admiring guests.
Moira was a vision of exquisite beauty. As tall as she was, her father topped her by several inches. Catriona’s eyes shifted from her daughter to her husband, the love of her life. David looked so splendid even with the grey hair now thick at his temples. Her heart beat a little faster as she watched him pass her. She felt Anne’s hand in hers and gave it a little squeeze, knowing her mother-in-law was filled with as much pride as she was.
Ian Taylor was full of pride and happiness as he turned to gaze at his lovely bride. It was almost like a fairytale, he thought for one fleeting moment. His grandfather had talked incessantly of David MacLeod and the MacLeods generally, and now, almost unbelievably, he was to marry David’s only daughter. Moreover, he was to make his home not in Melbourne practising law, but in the high country as a member of the MacLeod family, with a stake in the High Peaks Pastoral Company. From when he was just a small boy he had wanted to be on the land, but had been forced to study law by his father. Now he was to be part of High Peaks and would learn how to work kelpies and the land, under David MacLeod’s tutelage. He was to be brother-in-law to Dougal and Angus and a genuine member of the MacLeod family. He could hardly believe that Moira MacLeod, so beautiful and talented, was actually going to be his wife.
Others in the church had different thoughts. Anne was overwhelmed with pride as she watched her son and grand-daughter walk down the aisle. If Anne hadn’t come to Merriwa all those years ago and not married Andy, they would not be here today. Andy would have been so proud of Moira. There was so much of Andy in David and Moira – in their height, their colouring and their bearing, but also in their character.