by Tony Parsons
“You can have that as soon as we get home. Debbie’s coming for dinner tonight. You should feel better by then.”
“I hope so. I’ll probably fall asleep in the car,” Donna said.
Loaded up with luggage, which must have cost Donna a pretty penny for excess baggage, they made their way to the car park.
“You’ve got yourself a new car,” Donna said.
“I’m thinking of retiring from the bench soon, so I thought it was the right time to invest in a new vehicle,” Glenda said.
“Retiring? This is the first time you’ve mentioned retiring. You’re nowhere near retirement age,” Donna said.
“I’ve had enough of other people’s problems, Donna. It’s very wearing and I want to have enough time to pursue a few interests of my own,” Glenda said.
“Goodness, who’d have thought? You were one of the most driven women in the country. Oh, I’m not against you retiring early, it’s just that I always imagined you’d go on forever.”
“I assure you I won’t. I plan on having a life after working. But never mind me. What about you? Any romances?” Glenda asked.
“Nothing great and one near miss. I thought he might be Mr Wonderful and he turned out to be Mr Untrustworthy. Just as well I got the tip before anything serious happened. What about Debbie? Does she have someone? She sent me some pics of herself and she looks a knockout.”
“She’s lovely but the man she’s wanted doesn’t want her and that fired her to do her Masters and now the PhD thesis. He’s an older man, but the age discrepancy isn’t as startling now as it was when Debbie first wanted him. She was only seventeen then,” Glenda explained.
“Good heavens! She’s wanted him that long. He must be some man.”
“I suppose you could say that,” Glenda said enigmatically.
“I have the feeling that there’s more to this story than you’re telling me.”
“You’ve been away quite a long time, Donna,” her mother reminded her.
“Well, it was a huge experience, but I’m very pleased to be back home. What a day! It was those grey, cold, sunless days that gave me the heebie-jeebies. The winters were simply awful. I can’t wait to go for a surf,” Donna said.
Later, after she’d soaked in the bath for a good forty minutes, followed by several hours of sleep, Donna woke and told her mother that she felt almost normal.
“Hi, sis,” Debbie said from behind her mother. “How’s the economics guru?”
“Debbie, just look at you! You were my little sister when I left,” she managed to get out before Debbie fell on her in a genuine display of sisterly affection.
There was a great deal of three-way conversation conducted from Donna’s bed before Glenda said that dinner would be ready in half an hour and not to dawdle.
“Mmm. A baked dinner. What is it, Mother?” Donna asked as she came out to the dining room.
“Roast lamb and veggies followed by fruit salad and ice-cream. Think you can manage it?” Glenda asked.
Donna patted her non-existent belly. “It’s an absolute certainty.”
“It appears to me you haven’t had a baked dinner for some time,” Glenda suggested.
“For some time is right. Food, good food, is very expensive in London. Then, there’s also the fact that when things are really busy, there literally isn’t time for regular meals,” Donna explained. “Don’t get me wrong. I did have some nice meals, but they were inclined to be few and far between. It was often coffee and a sandwich.”
“It hasn’t done your figure any harm,” Debbie observed.
“Oh, I’ve been working out at a gym for a while. It was the only way I could get regular exercise. But you needn’t talk. You look terrific,” Donna observed.
“Running and some gym stuff,” Debbie said. “Mother often does sessions with me.”
Donna’s eyes swivelled in her mother’s direction. She hadn’t up until that moment appreciated how well she looked. “She does?”
Debbie looked at her mother and nodded, “She does look rather good for her age, don’t you think?”
“Now that you mention it, she does. It doesn’t go with her talk of retiring early,” Donna said.
“Ah, well, that’s an option, but it’s not entirely in her hands. There’s another party involved,” Debbie said with a gleam in her eye.
“A man? Tell me more, sister dear,” Donna urged.
“It’s Mother’s business, Donna,” Debbie said.
“Meanie! This is huge news to come home to.”
Glenda, who’d had enough of her daughters talking over her head about her, brought this conversation to an abrupt conclusion. It was time to break the news about Clay to Donna.
“Debbie is romancing, Donna. There’s a man who is a friend. I arranged for him to become responsible for a teenage boy when his mother was seriously injured in a domestic dispute and we’ve remained friends ever since. He’s the man Debbie’s been mooning over since she was seventeen,” Glenda said.
Donna looked across the table at Debbie for confirmation. “Is this true, Debbie?”
“It’s true.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s Clayton Steele,” Glenda said without preamble.
“You don’t, you couldn’t possibly mean Clayton Steele, the writer?”
“That’s who I mean.”
Donna turned to her sister. “How on earth did you meet Clayton Steele when you were seventeen?”
“Clay’s lived in the district for some years. He actually arrived here not so very long after you left for England,” Glenda said.
“He’s been here all these years and you didn’t tell me?”
"It was Clay’s wish, dear. It’s a long story but he came here to try and live incognito after he arrived back from America. He’d been very ill and he’d gone there for treatment. While on an earlier jaunt to Queensland, he’d seen a wild, abandoned piece of land with an old cottage on it and he’d bought it. You might remember it. It’s on Jerogeree Creek. When he arrived back from overseas, he restored the old place. That’s where he wrote his fifth book. The garden is absolutely wonderful. It’s not in any sense a formal garden, just a great mix of flowering shrubs and vines, but the overall effect is stunning.
“There was a lot of speculation about what had happened to Clay,” Glenda continued. “And he didn’t want it known where he lived. I wouldn’t have known about him being in the district, except that I had to adjudicate in the case of the boy whom Clay had befriended. The boy’s mother was in a coma and I had to decide whether Clay could take the boy and look after him, pending some resolution about his mother’s state of health or him going to a State institution or foster care. I ruled in favour of the boy going to Clay with some safeguards and I won’t bore you with those details. Clay did a great job with Billy and he went on to win a country and western song competition. He’s away now, singing at clubs. And that’s about the size of it, Donna. Clay asked Debbie and me not to let on to you that he was here as he felt that you were ideally placed to lift the lid on his whereabouts,” Glenda said.
“Does Clayton Steele have enough influence on you and Debbie to extract that kind of promise from you?”
Debbie looked across at her mother who nodded imperceptibly. “We were happy to go along with what he asked.”
“You were happy to keep me ignorant of the fact that Clayton Steele was a resident of this district?”
“That’s right,” Glenda said firmly.
“So, has he managed to maintain his anonymity all this time?”
“As strange as it may seem, yes, he has. He had one close shave, which is a story in itself, but the outcome was satisfactory. It involved a journalist, too.”
“Oh, this is too much. I simply have to be told.”
So, between them, Glenda and Debbie told her about Gillian’s search for Steele and about her son, Clem, who was Steele’s son.
“And you still want him?” Donna asked Debbie.
�
�Absolutely. I don’t blame Clay for what he did and I don’t blame Gillian. She had more guts than me. She asked Clay for a child and he gave it to her. But he recognised that marrying her would be a mistake. I wanted to move in with Steele but he knocked me back. The problem is that he thinks more of Mother than he does of me,” Debbie said.
“You mean romantically,” Donna asked.
“That, too, it seems,” Debbie said.
“This is too much. It’s better than the ‘Bold and the Beautiful’. So, what is he really like… Clayton Steel?”
“How can I tell you? There isn’t a man remotely like him. Anything he wants to do, he just does. He learnt to play the guitar and piano in next to no time and he both writes and sings country and western music, and he did all that more to help Billy Sanders than himself. If Billy lets him down, and it seems there’s a good chance that he will, he should be horse-whipped after all Clay’s done for him,” Debbie said.
“So, what do you think of him, Mother?” Donna asked.
“Clay is by far the best man I’ve ever known,” Glenda said.
“Is that it? Is that all you can tell me about him? I know he writes superbly but what is he like as a man? Debbie, can you tell me?” Donna asked.
“I can’t provide that kind of detail. You’ll have to ask Mother.”
“Mother! You’ve always said that you’d never allow another man to get close to you.”
“I hadn’t met Clayton Steele when I said that, Donna. What can I tell you? Clay is the kind of man that makes me glad I’m a woman because I feel that I complement him. We can sit and look at the shrubs and the birds and not say a word, yet there’s a kind of communion between us. Clay’s mind might range over a score of subjects, some of which are beyond my experience, but he’s liable to break the silence by asking me what I’d fancy for dinner. He never asks for anything for himself, has never put the hard word on me and there’s been oodles of opportunities for doing that. You simply feel like wanting to give him all you’ve got to give,” Glenda said.
“Now you know,” Debbie said. “Mother’s quite besotted.”
“I simply must meet him. Mother, can you wangle a meeting with this paragon?” Donna asked.
“That shouldn’t present any difficulty.”
“Clay really does think Mother is stupendous,” Debbie said irreverently. “I’m sure he’ll do anything to please her.”
“We’ll try and make it for next weekend, so you won’t be held in suspense for long,” Glenda said.
“I’ll pass on that meeting. You and Donna can hog Clay for this one,” Debbie said. “Of course, I’ll expect a full report.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Lordy, just look at the shrubs. And smell the perfume. Mother, look at all the birds. There’s masses of them. They’re going to land on us. Eeek! Shoo! I’m not a perch,” Donna protested. She was wearing jeans and a yellow blouse as her mother had told her it would be bad form to appear over-dressed. Glenda was wearing a brown pantsuit, which was about as casual as her status of magistrate would permit.
Steele came down off the front veranda to greet them. “Donna, I’ve heard so much about you. It’s a real pleasure to meet you at last.”
“Clay often referred to you as my ‘lost daughter’, Donna, but I always assured him that you weren’t going to be lost permanently… unless there happened to be an Englishman who captured your heart,” Glenda said.
“And that didn’t happen?” Steele asked.
“No, it didn’t. I’m really delighted to meet you. Mother has probably told you how much I loved your books. She wanted me to do medicine or law, but after reading your books, I simply had to do journalism, which I felt was the necessary prerequisite to being an author myself. One of Mother’s illustrious English relations got me a job in Fleet Street and then, Mother helped to finance me through a degree in economics. I felt, and I was advised, that being able to write intelligently about financial matters would give me a decided edge in the journalistic field,” Donna said.
“And it’s landed you a job in Brisbane,” Steele said.
“It was either Brisbane or Sydney, and I thought I’d accept the Brisbane offer, though Sydney offered more money. I want to spend some time with Mother and Debbie before I make another career move. I had some exciting times in the UK and Europe, and met a great many interesting people, but I’m hoping things won’t be so hectic here.”
“We’ve had the odd hiccup here, but nothing I could truthfully describe as hectic. I came here to be as far from hectic society as possible and although it’s not far from Brisbane, it’s a very peaceful place. We’ll have a look round and then boil the billy, as the bushmen say,” Steele said.
He took them down through his vegetable and herb garden and on to the creek, which murmured its way on into the distance. Then, it was back up the slight slope to the house where, to Donna’s surprise, she found that Steele had cooked a carrot cake for afternoon tea, along with freshly sliced tropical fruit. “Did you make this?” she asked, pointing at the cake.
“I have to confess I did,” Steele said.
“Clay is very modest about his cooking prowess, Donna. I’m never concerned about whether he’s looking after himself because I know he’s hugely capable in the kitchen. I brought an apple slice too, Clay,” Glenda said.
“At this rate, we won’t need any dinner. I presume you’ll stay for dinner?”
“If you’ll have us. Debbie said she was sure you’d invite us but she’s gone back to Brisbane,” Glenda said.
“How is the dear girl?”
“Steeped in her thesis, Clay. What are you planning for dinner?” Glenda asked.
“I might have something planned.” he said cheekily.
Glenda stroked Steele’s arm. “Sounds good to me.”
“The thing about this cooking business, Donna, is that I had to go up a cog or two for Billy’s benefit. I was on a fairly strict diet, and I mean a strictly healthy diet, when I came back from overseas but it was a bit too strict for a growing boy. So, I had to widen my repertoire. I suppose Glenda’s filled you in on Billy?”
“Fully,” Donna said with a smile. “Is that a picture of the cottage before it was restored?”
“That was how it was when I first saw it. I dare say, it’s not much of a dwelling compared to most of the huge modern houses, but it’s quite good enough for me and I couldn’t live in a more wonderful spot. I write well here” Steele said.
“You’ve made it very comfortable, Clay. It was a bit spartan in the early days, but the rugs and new furniture have made a big difference, not to mention your work room.”
“Granted. I’m really very comfortable here, Donna. I grow my own vegetables and herbs, and I get fish from the creek. There are avocadoes and mangoes galore in season and I even have my first grapes. Billy’s mother sends me down milk, cream and eggs, so I’m most dreadfully spoilt,” Steele said with his gentle smile.
“You could have knocked me over with a feather when Mother told me you were here, in fact had been here for years. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to totally forgive Mother and Debbie, and you, for not trusting me to keep mum about you. You’d no doubt be aware of the ‘off the record’ factor that could have been utilised,” Donna said.
“It was too big a risk because I knew very little about you,” Steele said. “You might have been just another aggressive journalist seeking to make a name for yourself and you were in the right place to make a splash.”
He looked at her as she sat at his table, a great-looking, well-educated, young career woman who’d taken the opportunities presented to her and now stood to make a name for herself in Australia. Her grounding in journalism and degree in economics would open many doors. Donna Butler was just one more example of how far someone could travel if they were sufficiently motivated. He could see that Glenda was very proud of her daughter and she had every reason to be. But he knew that someone like Donna Butler wasn’t the right type of woman for him.
Both she and Debbie belonged to the part of society he’d chosen to withdraw from and to which he hoped never to return. It would be like imprisoning a butterfly in a glass jar to expect a young woman like one of the Butler sisters to remain happy and contented at Jerogeree. Debbie and Donna both had wonderful careers ahead of them and deserved more appropriate partners than him, if partners they hankered for.
“I can see your point of view, Clay,” Donna said. “There are some very aggressive journalists working today, especially in TV. News reporting is a very competitive field and for some reporters, the story is everything.”
“Perhaps I can make up for my earlier caution. When you get settled into your new position, how would you like to do a ‘scoop’ on me?” Steele asked.
He saw Glenda’s face light up and then, she quickly looked at Donna to gauge her reaction. “Why, Clay, that’s a very generous offer,” Donna said.
“Sooner or later, someone will spill the beans. It’s a miracle I’ve managed to remain undetected for so long, especially after the publication of my last book, not to mention the songs I wrote for Billy. Maybe, one decent article would still the baying throng, so to speak. What do you think?” Steele asked.
“I’d very much like to do it,” said an obviously happy Donna.
“Then, we’ll do it. You make a time that suits you. Glenda will give you my phone number. Would you need to bring a photographer?” he asked.
“I’ll have to find out what my new workplace’s policy is regarding photography. But I’m quite capable of taking pictures. I’ve done a course and I’ve got a Nikon,” Donna said confidently.
“I’ll leave it to you. What do you want to do now, Glenda?”
“Would you sing a couple of songs for us? I’ve told Donna about our threesomes and she’s dying to hear them. We don’t have Billy, so it won’t be quite the same, but I’ll try and take his place,” Glenda said.
“Righto, we’d better adjourn to the work room. I have a piano there now,” he told Glenda.
“Clay, you haven’t?”
“Dinky di, Glenda. I bought it at a sale and had it done up. It makes a big difference to composing,” he said.