Moonlight Plains

by Barbara Hannay

  ‘Was Mum okay with that, Luke? She doesn’t usually like to talk about those war years.’

  ‘She didn’t object,’ Luke countered, feeling a prickle of guilt as he remembered that his grandmother hadn’t been over the moon about his proposed invitation.

  ‘That’s fine then,’ Jim said smoothly. Too smoothly? ‘I’ll look forward to seeing you in a couple of weeks.’

  Luke had little time to ponder this call before another of his uncles rang, from Richmond.

  ‘I’m sure you won’t mind, Luke. I’ve invited my neighbours to our little get-together. They’re good folk and they’ve had a rough trot this past year with bushfires and missed sales and everything, and they could do with a little cheering up.’

  What could Luke say but yes?

  Of course, he had to make several phone calls back to Zoe with upward adjustments to the numbers expected. Luckily, she took it all in her stride, but she threw her own spanner into the works when she asked Luke if he’d hired a band, or organised one of those portable dance floors.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she added quickly. ‘Bella and Gabe have put up their hands to take care of that.’

  ‘Do you really think we need a band?’ Luke was getting nervous. This party would be bigger than bloody Ben Hur if he didn’t draw the line somewhere.

  ‘Well, the band come with all their own gear and they would certainly liven things up. We think they would really set the scene.’

  They were ganging up on him. ‘I guess.’

  ‘Great. Will I tell Bella to go ahead?’

  Luke sighed. ‘Yeah. Why not?’

  ‘And you know you’ll need to order extra tables and chairs from the hire people, don’t you?’

  ‘Yep. Already taken care of.’ Actually, Sally had looked after that. One of her friends, a guy – Luke had manfully squashed jealous thoughts – was bringing a truck from Townsville with all the gear from the hire company.

  ‘You sound tired, you poor thing,’ Zoe said next. ‘But don’t worry. We’ll come early to help.’

  ‘Yeah, thanks. That’d be great.’

  As long as he had the damn homestead ready. He let out a frustrated sigh as he disconnected. The plumber had only just arrived to finish work on the guttering, the bathrooms and kitchen, and the electrician was dragging the chain, always claiming that he was caught up, but that Moonlight Plains was next on his job list.

  Of course, there’d been yet more phone calls involved in chasing them up. Luke was ready to throw his damn phone into Sally’s rejuvenated fishpond.

  Sally was a welcome sight when she breezed into Kitty’s room with her dog in her wake.

  ‘So would you like to see some photos of the homestead?’ she asked as soon as she’d said hello and kissed Kitty’s cheek. ‘Or would you rather be surprised when you arrive for the party?’

  ‘Oh, I’m too old for surprises.’ Kitty fished for the doggie treats she kept in a drawer. ‘Here, Jess, good girl.’ Then she beckoned to Sally. ‘Come and show me what Luke’s been up to. He’s tried to keep me up to date with phone calls, but it’s hard to visualise what’s going on.’

  She was pleased to have this opportunity to view Sally’s photos before she arrived at Moonlight Plains. On the off-chance that she didn’t like the renovations, she would at least be mentally prepared and less likely to disappoint Luke with a negative reaction.

  Sally had an air of unmistakable excitement as she pulled an album from her shoulder bag and set it in Kitty’s lap.

  ‘Goodness. Have you filled a whole album already?’

  ‘It’s not completely full.’ The girl’s fair complexion turned a giveaway shade of pink. ‘I had to take lots of shots. I needed plenty to choose from – for the magazine story.’

  ‘Of course.’ Kitty hoped her response sounded noncommittal, but she was secretly thrilled that this delightful young woman had developed such a very keen interest in her grandson’s project. It was a promising sign, surely?

  ‘They’re in chronological order, so you can see the progress,’ Sally said, slipping into the chair next to Kitty and crossing her slim, shapely legs.

  Ah, the ease with which young people move, Kitty thought wistfully as she struggled to coordinate her arthritic fingers to get the first page open.

  Eventually . . . there it was . . .

  Oh . . . the nostalgia . . .

  In the first photo, the old homestead looked so tired and neglected as it hunkered in a sea of long, brown grass beneath a nailing midday sun. Kitty felt an instant lump in her throat.

  ‘That’s the “before” photo,’ Sally explained. ‘Luke took that before he started any of the work.’

  Kitty extended a shaking hand, almost touching the print, tracing the shape of the roofline, the sagging verandah rail. She had stood on those front steps, feeling that her heart would break as she watched Ed walk away from Moonlight Plains. And she’d stood there four years later with Andy and their eldest son on the day they’d moved in to start their new life. A very happy life it had been, too, for which she was endlessly grateful.

  ‘After my husband died, this house was virtually forgotten,’ she said. ‘The manager we hired didn’t want the responsibility that goes with an old house. So the stock was looked after, but the house suffered.’

  ‘I really love these old homes,’ Sally said fervently.

  ‘Do you, dear?’

  The girl nodded, then looked a trifle embarrassed, as if she’d admitted more than she’d intended to. ‘If you turn the page,’ she said, adopting a businesslike tone, ‘you’ll see that Luke had a lot of structural work to do at first.’

  Obediently, Kitty turned her attention from the attractive, glowing young face beside her to the pages in her lap. ‘Oh, my,’ she exclaimed over a photo of a ladder disappearing into a half-demolished ceiling. ‘I hate to think what Luke found up there.’

  She turned more pages with scenes of devastation rather than restoration. Such a big job this had been for the boy, but Kitty had never doubted he was capable, or that he’d give the task his best shot. He was a very reliable young man. She remembered that he’d been holidaying in New Zealand when his father had his first heart attack, but he’d dashed straight home and had taken over the reins at Mullinjim with extreme competence.

  Actually, there were a surprising number of shots of Luke, Kitty noticed, swallowing an urge to smile. Her grandson certainly looked the part with his low-slung toolbelt, battered old jeans and a T-shirt that showed off his muscles as he leaned over a workbench or stretched to reach a high beam.

  With an effort, Kitty refrained from commenting on the frequency of these photos, but they were an encouraging sign and they mirrored the pleasing way a mention of Sally had slipped into Luke’s conversation almost every time they’d spoken on the phone.

  ‘I brought that stained glass back to Townsville to have it restored,’ Sally said as Kitty reached a photograph of the lovely panelled front door with morning sunlight streaming through it.

  ‘I’d forgotten how pretty it is.’ Kitty might have lingered over the beautiful door, but her attention was distracted by the next page. She gasped. ‘Goodness! He’s opened it all up, all the way to the kitchen.’

  ‘Didn’t he warn you about that?’

  ‘I knew he’d knocked out a wall or two.’

  ‘Do you like the result?’ Sally was leaning forward, watching Kitty intently, her dark-brown eyes round with concern.

  ‘It’s very modern. Everything’s very clean and white.’ Kitty needed a moment to adjust.

  ‘But there’s a wonderful feeling of space. Of course, there’s no furniture in there yet. That will make a difference.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And Luke kept the beautiful archway between the lounge and the dining room.’

  ‘Yes, yes. Don’t be anxious, Sally.’ Kitty gave her hand a reassuring pat. ‘I’m getting used to it now. The timber floors have come up beautifully, haven’t they?’

  ‘They
’re gorgeous, and the view from the kitchen is superb. And . . .’ Sally reached over to turn another page. ‘Look at the bathrooms. Luke’s done an amazing job. He has a real gift for restoration.’

  The girl spoke with such depth of feeling, Kitty couldn’t help smiling. I think she’s in love.

  ‘So do you have everything you need for your story?’ Kitty asked when she got to the last photograph.

  Sally nodded. ‘All I need to wrap it up are a few details from the party.’

  ‘You must be looking forward to it.’

  ‘Yes, sure.’

  As Sally said this, however, the happy light in her eyes dimmed.

  Kitty needed, quite desperately, to know the reason.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked a little too sharply.

  Sally blinked. ‘Nothing. Why?’

  ‘I fancied that you were worried when I mentioned the party.’

  ‘No, I’m not worried. I’m looking forward to it.’

  Kitty wasn’t entirely convinced but she could hardly argue.

  ‘I’m looking forward to it too,’ she said. ‘Not only will I get out of this place, but I’ll also have fun watching all of you young people having fun. Dancing under the stars.’

  ‘Dancing?’ Sally looked more worried than ever.

  ‘Luke tells me he’s hired a band and a portable dance floor.’

  ‘Has he?’

  Good heavens, the girl had gone quite pale. ‘I thought you were helping him with the planning.’

  ‘Oh, only a little at the start.’ Sally’s lips curved in an approximation of a smile. ‘Don’t forget I’m only a journalist covering the story.’

  ‘But I thought you and Luke were becoming . . . good friends.’

  Sally shrugged, dropped her gaze. ‘We’re friends, sure, but this is a family party. Zoe and Bella are Luke’s backup team. I’m just a helper in the background.’

  Fiddlesticks, Kitty wanted to snap, but when she saw the look in Sally’s eyes she stopped herself just in time.

  She’d been worried that this girl might break Luke’s heart, but now she was afraid that it might be the other way round.

  30

  Laura’s enthusiasm for Australia went into a sharp decline as soon as she hit the outback. Sydney had been wonderful. Once she’d recovered from her initial jetlag, she’d had a fabulous few days in a harbourside hotel.

  She’d found the harbour itself jaw-droppingly beautiful and her artist’s eye had hungrily devoured the dazzle of sunlight on water, the visual drama of the opera house, the pleasing curve of the bridge against a clear blue Australian sky. Sydney was different enough from Boston to be exotic, and yet familiar enough for her to feel comfortable and safe.

  This trip marked the first time she’d travelled on her own and it had taken a little getting used to, but she’d quickly appreciated how liberating it was to have no one but herself to please. She could sleep in, take a ferry ride to Manly on a whim, spend an entire morning wandering around the historic Rocks district, visit any art gallery she chose without anyone whining at her to hurry up, and she could choose to eat wherever and whatever she liked.

  Best of all, being a woman of a certain age, she was more or less invisible. No one stared at her because she was sitting alone in a cafe, and, rather than feeling lonely, Laura found this new independence empowering.

  From Sydney she’d flown north to Townsville, where she’d spent a night in another hotel room with another lovely water view. She’d studied the attractively landscaped beachfront and the island floating serenely in the calm tropical waters and tried, unsuccessfully, to imagine what the place had been like in 1942. Then she’d hired a car, a small sedan, and headed somewhat nervously west towards Moonlight Plains.

  Laura had never driven off into the unknown before and there was nothing about the landscape she encountered now that made her feel comfortable. She soon realised this had not been her brightest idea. Her notion of the Australian outback had been based almost entirely on vague memories of movies, and she’d expected leafy eucalypt forests or red-dirt plains with dramatic canyons, beautiful waterfalls and pretty lagoons that were home to waterbirds.

  Instead, a thin ribbon of blue bitumen stretched across harsh sunburned grazing land with barbed-wire fences, straggly clumps of gum trees and stubbled grass that was nowhere near green. Most disturbing, however, was the lack of stores or villages; there was just the occasional gas station or drab and dusty homestead.

  Laura knew it was weak and foolish of her, but she couldn’t help wishing she was safely back in Massachusetts with its old stone farmhouses, neat red barns, rolling green fields and orchards.

  By the time she passed through the town of Charters Towers, following Luke Fairburn’s directions, and continued on through more of the same dry, grey-green bush towards Moonlight Plains, she was very much regretting her decision to embark on this venture.

  She supposed that, for some people, this landscape might hold a certain rugged beauty, but right now she found it menacing. Distressingly so.

  Why had she ever thought this was a good idea? She didn’t even really know what she would say when she met Luke or Kitty. She’d brought gifts – Red Sox jerseys, pretty Yankee candles and finely woven Nantucket baskets – hoping they would be appropriate. Beyond that, she was winging this visit. Now, as a sign pointing off the main road to Moonlight Plains appeared on her right, she felt scarily under-rehearsed.

  The track ahead of her was downright creepy, hardly more than wheel ruts in the dirt with rough grass in between that scraped at the belly of her little car. Even though it was still early afternoon, the bush closed in too, with tall skinny gum trees and tangled scrub crowding to the edge of the track and cutting out the sunlight.

  Oh, God. Laura had no idea where she was going. She couldn’t imagine how her father could have flown all the way out here. And why had Kitty been in such wild country?

  What on earth did I think I was going to learn? Surely this is all a terrible mistake.

  Apart from Luke’s brief letter, which was pleasant enough, Laura had no idea what the contemporary Fairburns or Mathiesons were actually like. They could be hillbillies for all she knew and now, too late, she envisaged being served kangaroo stew or roasted crocodile. She felt sick. Scared.

  A moment later she was shaking and dizzy and she had no choice but to stop the car.

  In the middle of the narrow track, with no place to turn around, she cut the motor and clung to the steering wheel as her heart pounded and panic took hold.

  I can’t do this. I was crazy to come here.

  Glancing in the rear-view mirror, she saw her white face, the very real fear in her eyes. Madly, she wished she could wind back time, find herself in Boston rewriting the script of her fateful conversation with Amy.

  She closed her eyes and tried to breathe deeply and evenly in a bid to calm down.

  From somewhere behind her there was a growl of a motor and before she could gather her wits to start up her car, a pickup truck came hurtling around a bend in the track and pulled to an abrupt, noisy halt behind her.

  In the mirror, Laura watched the pickup’s passenger door open. A young woman jumped out and she caught an impression of long legs in tight jeans, a mane of long tawny hair.

  ‘Hello?’ the new arrival called as she came towards Laura.

  Her voice sounded friendly enough and Laura gratefully pressed the button to make her window descend.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ The girl’s smile was as warm as her voice and she was pretty, with a healthy, outdoors glow about her.

  Laura said shakily, ‘I was looking for Moonlight Plains.’

  ‘Well, you’re on the right track.’

  ‘That’s good news at least. I was beginning to wonder.’

  Now the girl’s smile widened. ‘You’re American!’

  ‘Well, yes.’

  Her eyes widened with sudden excitement. ‘You must be the pilot’s daughter.’

 
‘Yes, that’s me.’ If Laura had been calmer, she might have been amused to hear herself described that way.

  ‘Oh, wow.’ The girl extended her hand through the open window. ‘I’m so pleased to meet you. I’m Bella. Bella Mitchell, Kitty Mathieson’s granddaughter. I believe Kitty knew your father when he was here.’

  ‘Yes, that seems to be the case.’ Laura was scanning the girl’s face, wondering if Kitty had looked as pretty as this when his father met her.

  ‘We’re over the moon that you’ve come all this way.’

  Really? ‘Thank you. I’m Laura. How – how nice to meet you, Bella.’

  ‘Gabe – that’s my husband – and I have just been into the Towers for a few extra supplies.’ Bella straightened up and looked ahead down the track. ‘You haven’t too far to go now, but this track’s pretty rough, isn’t it?’

  Laura nodded. ‘I – I’ve never driven on anything like this before.’

  ‘Would you be happier if we led the way?’

  Laura imagined trying to move her little car to the side of the narrow track so that the truck could squeeze past her. Surely it was impossible. ‘But there’s no room.’

  ‘That’s okay. These trees are only saplings and Gabe has a bull bar on the front. He can bush-bash.’

  Bush-bash? Laura had no idea what this meant.

  Bella grinned. ‘Just sit tight here till we’re ahead of you. And you’ll want to keep back out of our dust.’ She lifted a hand to wave. ‘See you up at the homestead.’

  Puzzled, Laura sat tight as instructed, reminding herself that weirder things must have happened to her father when he was out here. Once again, she watched in the rear-view mirror as Bella leapt nimbly up into the truck and spoke to the man behind the wheel. Moments later, the truck turned off the track and into the bush.

  Dodging and ducking any larger trees, it simply ploughed through the skinny saplings and scrub, knocking them over like matchsticks and, within minutes, it was bouncing onto the track ahead of her.

  Fancy that.