by Di Morrissey
As the sun finally slipped behind the distant ridge line, the ministers of three religions, led by children carrying a cross and candles, emerged from the community hall. The little procession moved down the slope to the natural amphitheatre by the creek, followed by the steadily growing crowd.
Mrs Doherty, the organist, sitting under a halo of coloured lights, struck up with Hark, the Herald Angels Sing, and as everyone found seats in family groups, the sky glowed pink and purple.
The candles on the table were lit and then, when it seemed all was more or less organised, the Church of England minister, the Reverend Charles Hill, stepped forward and nodded to the organist, who quickly worked in a closing bar.
‘Thank you, Mrs Doherty,’ he said at a level more to be seen than heard, then lifted his voice to pulpit strength. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, a happy and holy welcome to you all on this wonderful occasion. I am sure that I speak for my fellow clerics in saying that we are delighted to be here. To start our round of Christmas religious celebrations with candlelight carols out here in this beautiful setting is indeed a blessing, for here it is so easy to feel the presence of God. It is such a natural feeling and it brings us joy, just as that wonderful event in a manger in Bethlehem so long ago brought joy to the world.’
He paused and looked around and grinned. ‘I rather detect something like a smell of a manger here tonight.’ The crowd roared with laughter. ‘I mean . . . I mean . . . the smell from the bales of hay,’ he added, which earned him a round of applause and sent him back to his seat well pleased with the mood he had established for the evening.
An ample lady in a floral dress and long white gloves stepped forward as conductor for the evening. ‘ Our first carol will be The First Noel.’ She gave a small signal to Mrs Doherty and soon the valley filled with song. The simple faith that held strong good people together manifested itself in voices raised in joyous expression of goodwill and love.
The shimmering twilight gave way to a darkening velvet sky which began to fill with stars. Mrs Anderson glanced over at the McBride family enthusiastically singing. She knew that they must also be remembering this night so few years ago when Barney and Abby were wed on this very spot. But their faces were alight with peace and faith and they presented a picture of complete family unity and love that made her heart twist. She caught the eye of Mr Richards on the end of the aisle near Gwen and they exchanged smiles.
At the end of the first carol, Mr Hill announced that during the next item the children attending the ministers would move among the people with altar candles. They would light a candle at the end of each row and the light would be passed from person to person, candle to candle, along each row.
There was a scurrying for candles brought in handbags and string bags and the mounting of them in a variety of holders, from silver family heirlooms to simple cardboard shields decorated with coloured pencils. And, as the singing again rang over the New England hills, the little bushland amphitheatre started to sparkle like the sky above as candle after candle was lit.
Gwen turned to Brian who was rummaging in his school bag handing out candles to the family. ‘Did you remember to pack one for Mr Richards, Brian?’
‘Genius that I am, of course.’ He grinned and handed a candle to his father, who passed it to Gwen. She swung around. ‘Here you are Mr . . .’ and stopped. He wasn’t there. The chair beside her was empty.
She stepped out and looked down the path that divided the crowd. She saw two figures standing near the back, scanning the scene, then taking a step or two, then stopping, unsure of where they should go. She became half aware of another person suddenly appearing behind them, and for a fraction of a second she thought it might be Mr Richards, but her attention went back to them and she started to tremble.
There was no mistaking, even in the fading light, the tall straight figure of Phillip Holten and beside him, holding his hand, an excited little boy.
‘Oh my God, it’s Richie,’ she murmured.
As she stared in disbelief, a little girl appeared at her side with the altar candle. Without taking her eyes off the boy, Gwen lit her candle, and then slowly raised it shoulder high. The man and the boy walked towards her.
‘Bob,’ she whispered urgently.
Phillip Holten led the boy to them and for a second they all just looked at each other.
‘I’d like to wish you all a merry Christmas,’ Phillip said, then bent down towards the boy. ‘Richard, this is the surprise present I promised you . . . the rest of your family.’ He looked at Gwen. ‘And this is your grandmother.’
Richie smiled and held his candle up to Gwen’s. ‘Hello, Grandma. Can I light my candle now?’
Di Morrissey
Heart of the Dreaming
At twenty-one Queenie Hanlon has the world at her feet.
Startlingly beautiful, wealthy and intelligent, she is the only daughter of Tingulla Station, the famed outback property in the wilds of western Queensland … and the love of handsome bushman, TR Hamilton.
At twenty-two her life is in ruins. A series of disasters has robbed her of everything she has ever loved. Everything except Tingulla — her ancestral home and her spirit’s dreaming place.
Now she’s about to lose that too …
A sweeping saga of thwarted love and heroic struggle, of a brother’s treachery and one man’s enduring passion, Heart of the Dreaming is the exciting and triumphant story of one woman’s remarkable courage and her determination to take on the world and win.
Di Morrissey
The Last Rose of Summer
FOLLOWING THE PHENOMENAL SUCCESS OF DI MORRISSEY‘S FIRST NOVEL, HEART OF THE DREAMING, COMES ANOTHER STUNNING AUSTRALIAN SAGA – THE COMPELLING STORY OF TWO BEAUTIFUL AND REMARKABLE WOMEN …
KATE, a strong-willed heiress determined to defy Edwardian convention. ODETTE, a fiercely independent and idealistic child of the sixties. Years apart yet inextricably linked by Zanana, the magnificent mansion they both love …
From turn of the century India to contemporary Sydney,
The Last Rose of Summer is a spellbinding saga of bitter struggle and jealousy; a story of love, possession and intrigue … and of two women connected across the decades by the men who love them … and the magic of Zanana.
Di Morrissey
Follow the Morning Star
QUEENIE AND TR RETURN IN DI MORRISSEY‘S BLOCK-BUSTING SEQUEL TO HEART OF THE DREAMING.
Queenie Hanlon has the perfect life.
She’s the mother of two adoring children, the wealthy owner of a thriving outback station and the lover of handsome bushman TR Hamilton.
Then one day when TR is seriously injured in a riding accident Queenie’s perfect life suddenly comes crashing down …
Her bitter and vengeful brother returns from Italy to lay claim to his inheritance. Her precious daughter is seduced by her uncle into giving up all she’s strived for. And her beloved TR can no longer recall the life they once shared.
Once before Queenie Hanlon was robbed of everything she ever loved … surely it can’t happen all over again?
Di Morrissey
Tears of the Moon
Two inspiring journeys
Two unforgettable women
One amazing story…
Broome, Australia 1893
It’s the wild and passionate heyday of the pearling
industry, and when young English bride Olivia
Hennessy meets the dashing pearling master
Captain Tyndall, their lives are destined to be linked
by the mysterious power of pearls.
Sydney 1995
Lily Barton embarks on a search for her family roots which leads her to Broome. But her quest for identity reveals more than she could have ever imagined…
TEARS OF THE MOON IS THE STUNNING NEW BESTSELLER FROM AUSTRALIA‘S MOST POPULAR FEMALE NOVELIST
‘… a sprawling saga … skilfully atmospheric’
THE BULLETIN
Di Morrissey, The Last Mile Home