Long Gone the Corroboree

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by Tony Parsons


  The man sang softly as he worked. But on this day, he was interrupted in his cleaning of the fish by the arrival of a red car. He didn’t recognise the car, though he had no difficulty recognising the woman who drove it, even though it had been some years since he’d last set eyes on her.

  For her part, the driver of the red car did not immediately vacate it but sat and took in the beauty of the property. The trees and shrubs seemed to have grown enormously since her last visit and all the bare areas, and there hadn’t been many, had been filled in with trees and shrubs. The red and purple bougainvilleas that almost obliterated the old outhouse remained, just as they’d appeared on her last visit to Jerogeree, giant swathes of colour against the mountain background.

  She climbed out of the car and walked to where Clayton Steele was cleaning the fish and didn’t seem at all disconcerted by the brevity of his clothing or by the fact that his fingers were messy with fish guts.

  “Hi, Clay,” Gillian said and with a flashing smile, she leaned over and kissed him.

  “You might have told me you were coming, Gillian,” Steele said.

  “Why? Might I have found you with another woman?” she asked and raised her eyebrows impishly.

  “No, but I might have been tidier to greet you.”

  “You look fine to me after six years’ absence. Very healthy, too,” she said.

  “I’ll finish off here, wash up and we can go inside. Have you come far?” he asked.

  “Not this morning. I stayed in Caloundra last night. Very nice, too. Wash up and then, I have something to show you,” she said.

  Steele finished cleaning the fish while Gillian glanced around at the garden. “How much everything seems to have grown. And it’s even lovelier than I remembered.”

  “I’ve planted a lot more since you were here last.”

  “I can see that.”

  He took the fish into the house and then came back to her. He was wearing a fresh pair of shorts and a clean white shirt. “What is it you want to show me, Gillian?”

  “Come up to the car, Clay.”

  They walked together through the scented garden to the red car. Gillian pointed through the open door at the sleeping child. “There’s something of yours there, Clay.”

  Steele looked for some time at the sleeping boy who bore more than a slight resemblance to himself. “Well, I can see some of myself in him,” he said.

  “You’ll see a lot more of it when he wakes up. Glenda knew he was yours as soon as she saw him and he was only two and half then,” she said.

  “Glenda knows about him? She’s never mentioned him to me.”

  Gillian nodded. “Glenda was concerned about how Debbie might react if she found out. She had a big academic programme and Glenda didn’t want anything to derail it. Is the luscious Debbie still carrying a torch for you, or did she finally give up?” Gillian asked.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her for a while. She’s not long finished her Masters and is doing a PhD now.” Steele watched the blonde-haired boy as he slept. “I’m not aware that she has a fellow. Is Clement a good boy?”

  “As good as I can make him, Clay. He’s not a wimp, anyway,” she said. “Do you think you could carry Clement down to the house without waking him? He’s grown a bit large for me to carry now.”

  “I can try.”

  “Not that it really matters. It’s just that it would be nice to be able to talk before he wakes up.”

  Steele put his arm under the sleeping boy and gently eased him out of the car and into his arms. Clement murmured but didn’t wake. “I’ll put him in Billy’s old room. The bed is made up,” Steele said.

  Gillian nodded and followed Steele down to the house and then into the bedroom. It was just as she remembered it, right down to Billy’s old guitar hanging on the wall.

  Steele went out to the kitchen and began making preparations for lunch. Gillian took him by the hand and sat him down at the table. “Let me do it, Clay. I remember where you keep everything.”

  “After six years?” he said and raised his eyebrows.

  “Even after six years,” she said. “This place left quite an impression on me.”

  Steele watched her as she moved about his kitchen and marvelled that she appeared so much at home. When they’d eaten lunch, he asked her the question that had been uppermost in his mind since she arrived.

  “Why did you wait six years to come back, Gillian?”

  “I’d have come back sooner if you’d invited me, but you didn’t. Perhaps, you were too preoccupied with your writing and with Billy to think about me. And I haven’t been idle, Clay. I’ve been raising your son,” she said.

  “To my way of thinking, he’s more your son than mine, as I’ve had nothing to do with his rearing. And as for extending an invitation, you didn’t worry about that on your previous two visits.”

  “Up to now, I’ve been able to handle Clement’s rearing quite adequately, but from this point on, I think he’d be better off with a father. If you don’t have a special lady friend, how would you feel about Clement carrying your name?”

  Steele looked at her blankly. “You mean by marrying you?”

  “That’s what I mean,” Gillian said. “We could have more children or not have them as you wish.”

  Steele took a breath. “What have you told Clement about me, Gillian?”

  “I’ve told him that you’re a very important writer of books and that one day, we’d go and visit you.”

  “I suppose he’s too young to absorb the significance of being the son of a single mother?” Steele suggested.

  “Not entirely. Clement is a very bright boy and he’s not the only boy in his class who has a single mother. That state of affairs doesn’t carry the social stigma it used to. There are quite a lot of women who choose not to have a husband or partner. I was left very well provided for financially, so I’ve been able to look after Clement and myself quite well. I have him booked into Shore after he finishes primary school. I thought you’d like that,” she said.

  As Steele paced the floor, the boy woke and called for his mother. Gillian went in to him then led him out to the kitchen. Steele realised immediately why the astute Glenda would have picked his parentage.

  “Hello, young man, I’m Clay,” Steele said by way of greeting.

  “Mum says I have to call you Mr Steele for the time-being,” the boy said.

  “Mums aren’t always right. You must call me Clay. Will you do that?”

  The boy looked from the man to his mother who nodded. “All right, I’ll call you Clay. Will you teach me how to play the guitar and how to fish?”

  “All in good time. You should have some lunch now. Billy was a good eater. I hope you are, too,” Steele said with a smile.

  “He’s all right, Clay,” Gillian said.

  “I hope we’re going to be good mates. I think a fellow like you ought to be called Clem. There was a fine Australian cricketer called Clem Hill, so you’ll be in good company. That all right with you?” Steele asked.

  “I suppose so,” the boy said uncertainly.

  “My Christian name is Clayton but very few people call me that. If I can be Clay, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be Clem. Okay.”

  The boy glanced across at his mother. “If Mum says it’s all right.”

  “It’s all right,” Gillian said.

  “That’s settled then,” Steele said and tousled the boy’s blonde head.

  After Clem had finished lunch, Steele took Gillian and him down to the creek where, after some initial coaching, Clem enticed a craybob to cling to a piece of raw meat until he had it clear of the surface. Although it plopped back into the water and disappeared, Clem appeared satisfied with this first attempt. Neither did he mind getting wet nor taking off his shoes and standing in the creek. Steele looked on with some satisfaction. His first impression was that Clem’s boyishness was constrained, which was supported by his excessively good manners, making the boy appear rather old fashioned
. Steele was certain that somewhere inside him, there was a boy waiting to break out.

  Together they walked back to the house and when they reached the veranda, Steele heard the phone ringing. He dashed inside and answered it to discover it was Glenda. “I have visitors,” he told her. “Gillian and Clem.”

  “Ah, so she’s brought him to meet you at last,” Glenda said.

  “You might have told me you knew about him.”

  “I didn’t want that particular item of news getting back to Debbie,” Glenda said. “It was important that she didn’t have any setbacks at uni. She’s here this weekend and I think it’s time to break the news. If you hear a very loud bang, you’ll know it’s her exploding,” Glenda said.

  “Poor Glenda. You’re going to cop it.”

  “You started off all this secret business by trying to remain anonymous,” she retorted.

  “Would you like to come for dinner?”

  “I wouldn’t be in the way?”

  “You’re fishing for compliments, Glenda. You know very well you’d never be in the way.”

  “If I survive the next hour, I’ll be there. Do you need anything extra for dinner?”

  “Not unless you’d like to bring a bottle or two of white wine.”

  “Will do,” she said. She put the phone down and went in search of her youngest daughter who was in the first stages of her doctoral thesis. Glenda was hugely proud of the effort Debbie had put into gaining her degrees, which she’d supported to the hilt. She found her daughter working at a table on the sunny front veranda.

  “I’m going to Clay’s for dinner, Debbie. I don’t like leaving you on one of your weekends home but the thing is that Gillian arrived today, her first visit in six years and Clay is rather keen for me to come for dinner,” Glenda said.

  “Why can’t I come, too? I’m sure Clay wouldn’t mind. I haven’t seen him for a while.”

  “Under ordinary circumstances, I’d be happy for you to accompany me. There’s just one slight problem, Gillian has her son with her.”

  “Her son? So, she married?”

  “No. Her son happens to be Clay’s son,” Glenda said as calmly as she could get the words out.

  Debbie’s hand fisted and pressed against her chest. “Clay’s son? How old is he?” Debbie asked tersely.

  “Five years old.”

  “How long have you known about this son?”

  “About three and a half years. I saw him when I went to Sydney for that legal convention,” Glenda explained.

  “You’ve known about this child for three and half years and have never seen fit to tell me,” Debbie said heatedly.

  “That’s right. There was nothing to be gained from telling you. What was important was that you completed university with the best possible passes so that you’d be equipped to earn a decent living. Being married can’t guarantee that and I didn’t want you falling to pieces emotionally over a man who wasn’t interested in you.”

  “Christ! Perhaps, you can tell me how Gillian persuaded Clay to give her a child as we both know he wasn’t supposed to be interested in her either,” Debbie said icily.

  “Gillian loves Clay but she thought you had the best shot with him. She told him if she couldn’t have him, she wanted a child by him, so he obliged. Up to now, Gillian’s managed the boy quite well but he’s reached the age where he really needs a father. I fancy she’s made the trip not only so that Clay can meet his son but to see whether he’s changed his mind about her,” Glenda said.

  “You mean whether he’ll marry her?”

  “That’s my reading of the situation, Debbie.”

  “So, what do you think Clay will do?”

  “I think he’ll tell her to get lost… nicely,” Glenda said.

  “There’s two things I’d like to say about this extraordinary turn of events, Mother. The first is that I think you acted very badly in not making me acquainted with what had happened. You treated me as if I was an immature schoolgirl not capable of accepting the reality of the situation. The second is that Gillian had a great deal more guts than me. If she couldn’t get him to fall for her, she was prepared to accept second prize. Why didn’t I simply go to bed with Clay? He doesn’t seem to object to women going to bed with him. I’d have a baby to him any old time if it meant I could be with him.”

  “I think it very unlikely that Clay would go to bed with you, daughter dear. I believe he’s got too much respect for me to touch my daughter,” Glenda said.

  “What a life! The one man I want, have always wanted, has principles,” Debbie said bitterly.

  “Getting back to what you said about me behaving badly towards you in not keeping you up to date with what was transpiring, let me reiterate that it was more important for you to get through university than to have your future placed at risk because of my uncertainty about how you’d react if I’d told you what Gillian had done. I can’t emphasise too much how important a good education is for a girl. If I hadn’t had that kind of education, I wouldn’t have been able to give you and Donna the chances you’ve had. Your father couldn’t have done it. He didn’t want any responsibility. I’ve had to be father and mother to you two girls.”

  Debbie almost hissed. “I’m well aware of all you’ve done for us, Mother, and Donna and I are both very grateful for it.”

  “I realise I’m going to be in the gun with Donna too when she finds out that Clayton Steele has been living in this district for years and we’ve never told her. But that was Clay’s wish. If anyone was well placed to lift the lid on his whereabouts, it was Donna. That suited me very well because the last thing I’d have wanted was for Donna to vacate Britain in order to meet Clay. You know how high she was on his books. As a consequence of us not telling Donna about Clay, she’ll come home to us with two degrees and the ability and education to secure a high paying position. With or without a husband or partner, that’s a very worthwhile result,” Glenda said.

  Glenda had baldly stated the facts in much the same way she would have summed up a ruling in her court. What she had skated round was her knowledge of the often-fragile nature of a young woman’s emotions where males were concerned. There was simply no telling what a girl or young woman might do if she was thwarted in her desire for a man. She’d seen it all and there was no way she was going to expose her daughters to emotional derailment. She’d got them through university and now, well-educated and capable of earning good salaries, she was very satisfied with the decisions she’d made.

  “I appreciate you acted for the best but I would’ve preferred to be told,” Debbie said. “I won’t go with you now. I’ll talk to Clay after Gillian goes back to Sydney.”

  “Very wise of you, dear.”

  “It’s not that I have anything against this child but it would stick in my throat that Gillian managed to achieve something that I didn’t attempt. Like I said, she had more guts than me.”

  “Gillian was much older than you and could afford to look after a child. She was left very well provided for with sufficient money invested so that she’d never need to work. Clay saw enough in her to give her what she wanted. And what she wanted most was a family of her own,” Glenda said.

  Debbie flicked her hair back and thrust out her chin. “So, now she’s back again, is there going to be a second love-in?”

  “I don’t know, dear. If I had to guess, I’d say no. While I suppose it’s hard for a man to knock back what’s offered, men being men, I doubt that Clay will give in to Gillian a second time. But I could be wrong. I’ve always suspected that he’d enjoy being a husband and father,” Glenda said. “I’ll have a much better idea after I’ve been out there.”

  So late in the afternoon, Glenda drove to Jerogeree on her own. Steele was beside her car when she arrived and held the door open for her. He kissed her and patted her arm, which did a lot to ease her state of mind. “What do you think of your son?” she asked.

  “He seems a nice boy with good manners. I’d like to see him loosen up
a bit. He’s very serious,” Steele said.

  “Give him time, Clay. He’s probably a little apprehensive about meeting his father.”

  “It seems that Gillian wants Clem to carry my name,” he said. He thought he’d bounce that off her and see how she reacted.

  “You mean marry her?”

  “That’s what she wants. Does that upset you?” he asked. Of all the women he’d ever known, he thought the most of Glenda Butler. She’d trusted him from the outset when she’d awarded him guardianship of Billy, and except for one night of lovemaking, which was for his benefit as much as hers, Glenda had never asked anything of him.

  “I want what’s best for you, Clay. You should know that by now. If you feel you need me now or in the future, I’ll retire and come out here to be with you. I’ve heard enough domestic tragedies to last me three lifetimes. I’d like to do a little painting and this would be a good place to begin… Australia’s answer to Monet’s garden,” she said lightly.

  Steele looked at her and marvelled that he’d had the good fortune to meet such a woman. Glenda had a nice home on the coast yet she was prepared to leave it and move to his modest dwelling to be with him; to come and live with him as his partner because she had never raised the subject of marriage. What he knew, because Debbie had told him, was that if Glenda was not actually in love with him, she thought more of him than any man she’d met. But she was so grand a woman that no matter how much she might want to live with him, she would never try to influence him to take her or stand in the way of him choosing a younger woman. Glenda was a remarkable woman who’d had the misfortune to marry an unremarkable and untrustworthy husband and who deserved a man who thought she was wonderful. Steele thought she was wonderful. There was so much more to her than any of the young women he’d known. What it amounted to was that he trusted Glenda unreservedly. He couldn’t say the same about Gillian. After denying him five years of his son’s life, she wanted him to marry her and give Clem his name, to take on being the father she’d assured him he’d never be.

  After Glenda left, Steele strode off towards the creek. Gillian’s offer couldn’t be ignored. He had to think of Clem’s needs and his own too. In his heart he knew that Gillian was very unlikely to want to live at Jerogeree long term. She might stay with him for a while or even come back for periods but Sydney was her scene; it certainly wasn’t his. To some extent, Gillian was a loose cannon and this worried him. Clem needed stability. He didn’t need to grow attached to his father only to be wrenched away from him when Gillian grew tired of life at Jerogeree, as she would. And with the writing programme he had in front of him, he couldn’t afford to be dashing off to Sydney to try to live two lives. He’d purchased Jerogeree because it offered him freedom from worry and Gillian offered nothing but worry. So, at bedtime, he decided to distance himself from her and asked if she could sleep with Clem in Billy’s room.

 

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