After the hymn ended, Libby took her position at the front of the church and welcomed everyone. Harry stood and sat when he was told, recited the Lord’s prayer, joined in singing the words of his mum’s favourite hymn and listened to Claire read a poem, but he barely took any of it in before Libby indicated it was time for the eulogy. He stood slowly. It was only a few short steps to the front of the altar, but he wasn’t sure he could make it. He drew strength from Eddie’s reassuring smile.
He laid his notes on the lectern, before drawing in a deep breath and surveying the people before him. His eyes lingered longest on his dad. Jim gave a tiny nod of his head. Harry cleared his throat, straightened the papers and began.
‘Thank you everyone for coming today. It means a lot to our family.’ He lifted his eyes from the words in front of him and willed them to stop blurring behind his glasses. ‘Those who knew Mum knew she was one of those people who lit up the room whenever she entered. She was warm, compassionate and caring and always wanted to help others, no matter the inconvenience. As well as sewing and quilting, Mum loved music – all types of music – but I guess for obvious reasons her favourite was musical theatre.’
There was a chuckle from the congregation.
‘Mum was born just after World War Two and she didn’t meet my dad until she was thirty-three. They were married soon after and had Claire.’ He smiled at his sister. ‘Mum and Claire always had a special bond and over the past few months, as I’ve watched my sister care for Dad, I’ve realised how much she’s just like Mum. Mum always wanted a big family but she never managed to have another baby, so eventually she and Dad stopped trying. Then I came along as her “little surprise” when she was forty-one. I wasn’t such a “little” surprise though. I weighed nearly ten pounds.’
This bought another small laugh.
‘We never heard Mum complain about anything or wish her life had been different. She was one of those women who was brought up believing it was her role to stay at home and look after her husband, and she did that brilliantly. In fact,’ he swallowed, ‘that’s exactly what she was doing the day she died – caring for Dad.
‘She was always our biggest supporter. It was Mum who encouraged Claire and I to dream big, to make the best of everything and to face issues head on. She always believed there was no obstacle that couldn’t be overcome. Even when Dad got sick, Mum believed he’d get well.’
He looked down at Jim, who was nodding slowly.
‘Mum’s sudden passing has hit us all hard because it was totally unexpected. We had no idea she’d been having issues with her heart because she never told anyone. That was Mum. Stoic and always putting others first. She was more worried about Dad than herself.
‘Mum’s always been our rock, our strength and our comfort when times have been tough. I honestly don’t know how we’ll cope without her. Her death leaves a massive hole in our hearts and lives, but we will draw strength from the things she taught us. She’ll be missed, but her memory will live on in us all forever.’
He snuck at look at the coffin again. ‘I love you so much, Mum, and I’ll miss you more than words can say.’
Harry gazed around the old church. The sunlight glinted through the stained glass windows, painting people in all the colours of the rainbow. It made him smile. His mum would have said it was a sign from above. He blinked twice and his eyes came to rest on Claire. She gave him a watery smile. Only one last thing to do. Harry steeled himself.
‘I made a promise to Dad the other night at the hospital,’ he said, feeling an unfamiliar wave of nervousness. ‘He asked me to sing for Mum, which is what I’d like to do now.’
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Harry closed his eyes and waited for the familiar music to start. As he filled his lungs, the enormity of the moment hit him. This was his performance of a lifetime.
He opened his mouth and sang ‘Empty Chairs at Empty Tables’ from Les Miserables. When the song ended, there wasn’t a dry eye in the church.
Harry went straight to his dad.
‘Thank you, Harry. Thank you.’
For the next few minutes, Harry wasn’t aware of the images of his mum flashing across the large screen. As he held hands with his dad and they both wept, Harry’s heart broke all over again. How long would it be before he was sitting here for another funeral?
Chapter 35
The next morning Eddie pushed open the door of the cafe. It was difficult to believe ten days earlier she’d survived the most frightening day of her life. Today, the clouds were gone, the smoke blown away and nothing but clear blue skies, warm sunshine and a cool breeze. The night before, heavy rain had soaked the ground, washing away all traces of the fire, but it would be a long time before her memories were washed away.
She was giving Harry and Claire some space today. They were meeting with the district nurses and the palliative team to plan Jim’s ongoing care. The farmhouse was finally back in some semblance of order. Casseroles filled the freezer and leftovers lined the shelves of the fridge – not that any of them had much of an appetite.
The first person Eddie spotted when she entered was Lisa, who strode over as soon as she caught sight of Eddie. She hugged her tight. ‘How are you doing? If you need anything else, let me know.’
Eddie’s throat tightened. Lisa’s compassion was almost her undoing yet again. She’d already done so much. ‘Thanks, Lise,’ she sniffed. ‘I really appreciate it.’
‘I hear you’ve moved in with Harry.’
‘News travels fast.’
‘That’s Yallambah.’
‘True.’
Lisa smiled. ‘From what I’ve seen, he’s a good man. I think you’ll make a great couple.’
‘Thanks, Lise.’
‘Promise me you’ll call if you need anything.’
‘I promise.’ Eddie headed over to the counter to place her order.
‘Sorry about your house, Eddie,’ Sophie said kindly. ‘Are you just after a coffee today?’
‘Yes, please.’ The fire had taken her appetite too. She took the table number from the counter. ‘I’ll have it here, if that’s okay.’
‘Are you meeting that man?’ Sophie asked.
Eddie frowned. ‘What man?’
Sophie pointed and Eddie turned to look. He was reading the paper, his long legs stretched out in front of him, one foot crossed over the other. Her eyes flicked over his freshly ironed clothes to his silver framed glasses and neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard. Not a local, but something about him seemed vaguely familiar.
Eddie turned back to Sophie. ‘Who is he?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know, but he was asking about you.’
‘About me?’
Sophie nodded. ‘I told him you worked at the hospital. And I told him about your house too. Hope that’s okay.’
Eddie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. So much for privacy. ‘He’s probably a journo,’ she mused. That’s why he seemed familiar. She’d probably seen him on TV. ‘On second thoughts, I might make that coffee a takeaway.’ She wasn’t in the mood to talk to a stranger about the fire.
The man caught her staring and smiled as though he recognised her. Again, Eddie couldn’t fight the feeling she knew him.
Not wanting to be rude, she approached him reluctantly. ‘I’m Edwina Campbell, I believe you were asking after me? I’m sorry, it’s been a rough few days and I’d rather not be interviewed. Sorry to waste your time. I hope you haven’t come far.’
He frowned. ‘Interviewed?’
She hesitated. ‘Aren’t you a journalist?’
‘No, I’m a teacher.’
Eddie stepped back, surprised by his strong British accent. ‘My apologies. I’m sorry, I assumed . . .’
He stood, and Eddie had to crane her neck to look at him.
‘No need to apologise.’ He held out his hand. ‘I’m Bill.’
She shook his hand hesitantly.
He cleared his throat. ‘This might sound odd,
but . . . er . . . is your mother Maggie Campbell?’
Eddie stared at him, her hand going immediately to her mother’s medallion around her neck. ‘Yes. But she died years ago.’ She narrowed her gaze. Had his face paled? ‘Did you know my mum?’
‘I did. A lifetime ago.’ He skimmed the cafe. ‘Could we go somewhere and talk? In private?’
Eddie’s nerves hummed with alarm. Who was he and what did he want?
‘Sure. There’s a courtyard out the back we can sit in,’ she said, hoping she sounded more together than she felt. She led the way in silence, the only sound the tapping of their shoes on the timber floor.
‘How did you know my mum?’ Eddie asked as soon as they sat.
Bill hesitated before meeting her gaze. ‘I lived in Yallambah a long time ago. Maggie and I were very good friends. More than friends actually.’ He pointed to the medallion. ‘I see you’re wearing her necklace. She never used to take that off.’ He smiled sadly. ‘I’m sorry to hear she’s no longer with us. When did she pass?’
As though it was only yesterday, a wave of emotion washed over Eddie. ‘I was eight, nearly nine.’ Some days it felt like a lifetime ago, other days, like now, it felt like it had just happened.
‘Thirty-five years,’ he murmured. ‘I can’t believe it’s been so long.’
Eddie tilted her head to look at him. ‘Have we met?’
He removed his glasses and rubbed a hand across his whiskery salt and pepper beard. ‘We met once, but you won’t remember that of course.’ He paused. ‘You were only a newborn baby.’
When their eyes locked, his were tear-filled. A possibility Eddie had never in a million years considered entered her mind. She held her breath and waited for him to confirm what she could hardly believe might be true.
‘I visited the hospital after you were born, Edwina,’ he said softly.
The heavy weight of understanding landed on her chest. She tried to take deep breaths but her lungs wouldn’t cooperate. She gripped the edge of the table to steady herself as a barrage of emotions thundered around her.
‘You’re William,’ she whispered.
He nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
‘You were my mother’s . . . my mum’s . . . her teacher.’ Eddie’s brain seized and she had trouble processing the words. She dragged in another ragged breath.
‘Yes. And we were in love.’ He leaned forward.
She stared at him unblinking, waiting for him to say the words.
‘And that means I’m your father.’
Eddie screwed her eyes shut and expelled the trapped air from her lungs. When she opened her eyes, she couldn’t look at him. Tears blurred her vision and she blinked hard to stall them. She stood and paced the small courtyard to stop her legs from shaking. After a few minutes, she pulled herself together. ‘You’re my father,’ she repeated.
‘Yes.’
‘But you’re English. I didn’t know that.’
It was Bill’s turn to frown. ‘What did you know about me?’
‘Very little. I knew your name and that was about it. No one talked about you.’
His eyes clouded over. Eddie looked at the man sitting opposite her. It wasn’t hard to see where she got her height and her long chin and her grey-green eyes. How was she going to tell Frank and Daisy she’d just met the man they refused to talk about? Hundreds of questions stampeded through Eddie’s mind, but she realised only one was important.
‘Why did you leave her?’ she asked.
He sighed heavily. ‘Someone told the principal about my relationship with Maggie and the school board terminated my employment,’ he explained.
‘And you loved her?’ Eddie asked.
Bill didn’t hesitate. ‘Like I’ve never loved another woman since.’
Eddie felt her eyes fill again. She blinked a couple of times. ‘But you left her. And me. You never got in touch. Why?’
‘How could I? It was wrong of us to have a relationship in the first place. I was her teacher. She was my student.’
‘But she wasn’t underage,’ Eddie countered.
‘No. But ethically and morally it was wrong. Teachers hold a position of influence and trust that shouldn’t be violated. I overstepped the boundaries. I broke the code of conduct.’
‘By getting her pregnant?’
‘By loving her.’ His gaze intensified. ‘I loved your mum, Edwina. Loved her. We were planning to wait until she finished school before we told people about our relationship. I wanted to marry her. Spend the rest of my life with her. And with you.’
Sudden anger erupted in Eddie. ‘You could have! All these years you’ve known I existed and never once have you come to find me. How do you think that makes me feel?’
‘You have to understand. Your grandfather wouldn’t let me anywhere near your mum. It was very difficult for him. Maggie was their only child. In those days –’
‘You said you saw me when I was born,’ she interrupted.
He nodded. ‘As soon as I heard I snuck into the hospital after visiting hours one night. Unfortunately, one of the nurses caught me and must have figured out what was going on. She obviously called the principal. I was sacked that night.’
A knot formed in her stomach. She had a vague recollection Frank had been the chairman of the school board. Had he been the one to sack Bill? ‘What happened after that?’
‘I had to go back to the UK. With no job, or hope of another one in Australia, I couldn’t stay. I packed my stuff, went past the hospital one more time to say goodbye and left.’
He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a leather wallet and withdrew a tattered photo. ‘This is a photo of me holding you. The only picture I have.’
Eddie gingerly took the faded image from his hand. In it, a much younger version of him sat beside a much younger version of her mum on the hospital bed, cradling a baby in his arms. There was no mistaking the look of awe on his face. Tears burned in Eddie’s eyes again. When she tried to blink them away this time, it didn’t work.
‘Who took this?’ she asked, glancing up through wet lashes before staring at the photo again.
‘One of the nurses. I gave her my parents’ address in the UK and begged her to send it to me. It didn’t reach me for twelve months, and for a long time I thought she’d forgotten or changed her mind. I wrote to thank her and ask after you, but she never replied.’
‘You could have written to Mum.’ Eddie couldn’t begin to comprehend her mother’s loss.
‘I did. She never wrote back. Although perhaps she never even received my letters. Or if she did, she’d changed her mind about me.’
‘So you gave up on her? On us?’
Bill rubbed at the back of his neck. ‘I met someone else. We got married.’
Eddie stared in disbelief. ‘You were in love with my mum but you went and married someone else?’
‘I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I didn’t think I’d ever see Maggie again.’
‘And your wife? Does she know about me?’
‘We’re divorced now. It was amicable. She couldn’t compete with Maggie, even after all these years. She was the one who suggested I come to Australia. She told me to get “all this nonsense” of finding you and Maggie out of my system.’
She let his words sink into her heart. He’d always loved her.
‘Do you have other children?’ Eddie asked.
He looked at her for a couple of seconds before smiling. ‘Three, including you.’
Her world shifted again. ‘I have siblings?’
‘Two brothers. Lewis and David.’
‘Do they know about me?’
‘They do now. Not all the details. Yet. I only told them just before I flew over here.’
‘How old are they?’
‘Lewis is twenty-nine. David is thirty-one. Both married. Lewis has two children and David has three.’
Eddie shook her head. ‘This is a lot to take in. Forgive me if I’m not saying the right wo
rds or acting more excited or something. I think I’m in shock.’ She held out her hands to show him how much they were shaking. ‘How can you be so calm?’
He chuckled and held out his own hands. ‘I’m not calm, believe me. I’ve never been so nervous in my life. And I’m sorry. I hadn’t expected to meet you this way. I wasn’t sure it would be this easy. I didn’t know whether you were even still living in Yallambah. For all I knew you’d married and moved to the other side of the country. I walked in here today and asked the young girl behind the counter if she knew you. When she said yes, I couldn’t believe my luck. I sat down here to have a coffee and work out what to do next. And then you walked in.’
Eddie couldn’t believe it either. ‘I can’t wait to tell Nan.’
His brows lifted. ‘Daisy’s still alive?’
‘Yes. And Frank. Both well, although they’re getting older and have recently moved into a retirement village.’
‘I don’t suppose they’d want to see me,’ Bill said.
Eddie’s smile fell. ‘I don’t know, to be honest, but they won’t have a choice. I just have to work out when the time is right to tell them.’ She paused. ‘The thing is, Bill, I’ve never needed you. Sorry if that sounds harsh, but I wasn’t one of those kids in counselling because I didn’t have a father figure. Even before Mum died, I felt loved and secure. Mum was amazing. Until she got sick. After she died, Nan and Grandad just picked up where Mum left off. I’ve never needed or wanted for anything. And that includes a father.’
A pained expression crossed his face and he leaned forward and took her hands in his. ‘I understand what you’re saying, but please know that I regret never coming back to Australia, Edwina. I regret not knowing you. I regret that I’ve missed every single day of your life. And most of all I deeply regret that I missed out on being your dad.’
Her heart filled with the overwhelming weight of his love and tears fell freely.
Bill cleared his throat. ‘Would it be all right if I gave you a hug?’
‘I’d like that.’
One More Song Page 31