__________
Flora arrived off the flight from Melbourne looking like a proper city chick, with a trendy new, lopsided haircut, an equally trendy little black dress, a violin case dangling from one shoulder and a classy leather overnight bag in hand. She was even wearing a cardigan, an item of clothing that was practically unknown in Cairns, certainly at this time of the year.
Seth, watching her arrive through sliding doors, felt an unexpected lump in his throat. His kid sister had grown up, moved away, thrown off all visible signs of the horse-mad country tomboy he’d once so mercilessly teased.
She saw them and waved. ‘Helloooo!’ A small squeal escaped her as she hurried forward, her eyes excited, her arms outstretched. ‘Charlie boy. How are you, you gorgeous little man?’
Charlie was a little shy, clinging to Seth while Flora kissed him and gushed.
‘He’ll soon thaw out,’ Seth assured her. ‘He’s just a bit overawed at the moment.’
‘Well, yes, there’s so much to see in a busy airport, isn’t there, Charlie? Wait till you see the lovely presents I’ve brought you.’
‘And how about a hello for me?’ Seth said.
‘Of course. Sorry. It’s so good to see you, big brother. I’ve missed you.’
Dropping her bag, Flora embraced him enthusiastically. Her blue eyes were sparkling as they separated again, and Seth thought, momentarily, that the sparkles might have been tears – and not happy tears, either. But Flora was smiling, so he must have imagined that flash of sadness. Perhaps she was just a bit emotional about coming home after almost a whole year away. And it was probably the make-up that made her eyes look so extra-bright.
He held out his hand for her bag. ‘So, I guess this is it? You only have carry-on luggage?’ She was home for only a few days, after all.
‘No, actually, I do have a suitcase.’ Flora looked a tad guilty about this. ‘You know me, couldn’t decide what to wear, so I brought the lot.’
Seth heaved an exaggerated sigh as he followed her to the luggage carousel.
‘Now here’s something that’s fun to watch,’ Flora told Charlie. ‘Look at all the suitcases having a ride.’
Charlie wriggled in Seth’s arms. ‘Roun’n’roun,’ he said, pointing to the carousel.
‘Yes! Round and round. Wow, aren’t you a clever boy?’ Flora held out her arms again, and Charlie went to her willingly this time, submitting to a cuddle, before squirming to watch the bags trundling past on the conveyor belt.
Charlie continued to wave and exclaim over the circling luggage, but brother and sister were silent for a bit as they watched and waited. Then Flora tilted her head to scrutinise Seth. ‘So how’s the new girlfriend?’
The simple question shouldn’t have caused a painful jolt in the centre of his chest.
‘She’s coming to the party, isn’t she?’ Flora persisted. ‘I can’t wait to meet her.’
Seth kept his face deadpan. ‘Sounds like Mum’s been spilling the beans.’
Flora shrugged. ‘Mum hasn’t had a lot to say. I’d reckon Alice Miller only scored a mention in every second email.’
She grinned as she told him this and Seth managed a crooked smile that he hoped didn’t look too awkward.
‘It’s nothing serious,’ he assured her. And it will be all over within forty-eight hours.
‘That’s a pity. I reckon you and Charlie could do with a little ongoing female company.’
Ignoring this unwanted advice, Seth couldn’t resist getting his own back. ‘Pity your bloke couldn’t make it for the party. How is he? Everything okay?’
‘Yes, he’s fine.’ Flora flipped her response over her shoulder, while she paid studious attention to the approaching luggage.
Then her phone pinged and she shifted Charlie onto one hip while she retrieved the phone from the pocket of her cardigan. ‘Speak of the devil. Oliver’s checking that I’ve arrived.’ She quickly tapped a reply.
‘Why couldn’t he come, Floss? Last-minute hitch?’ Seth was keen to keep the conversation well away from his own relationship issues, and for the past few months, Flora’s emails had seemed to be almost all about Oliver. ‘Did he score a new singing gig or something?’
Flora nodded, and bent to kiss the top of Charlie’s head, without shifting her gaze from the luggage. ‘Oh, there’s my bag.’ She pointed way down the line. ‘Can you grab it, Seth. The silver one with the red bow.’
Within half an hour, the airport parking ticket was paid for, the luggage stowed, and Charlie, protesting, was re-buckled into his car seat, distracted by a brightly coloured toy monkey that Flora produced from her bag. They were heading back up the rainforest-clad range to Kuranda before Seth raised the subject of the family meeting. To his surprise, Flora knew nothing about it.
When she demanded an explanation, he had to hedge. ‘Dad thought it would be a good idea to have a meeting while you and Aunt Deb are both home. To make a few decisions about the property.’
Flora wrinkled her nose. ‘I can’t imagine that I’ll have much to contribute.’
‘Why not? You’re part of the family.’ And there’d been a time, albeit quite some years ago now, when Flora’s dream had been to grow up to be a cattlewoman. ‘Are you a total city girl these days?’
At this, Flora frowned and looked out through the windscreen to the lush vegetation that arched overhead and crowded close to the sides of the winding road. Green tree ferns and palms abounded, along with clumps of flowering ginger and towering trees with thick trunks wrapped in snaking vines and creepers.
‘I don’t know,’ his sister said in a small voice. ‘When I’m down there in Melbourne I feel totally immersed in my work and the city lifestyle, but as soon as I set foot in the north again, I begin to feel a deep tug. It’s weird.’
‘I guess the north will always be home,’ Seth said gently. ‘And you never know, a different perspective from you could be useful in the family meeting Dad’s organised.’
‘Maybe.’ Flora’s phone pinged again and she took it out of her pocket, looked at the caller ID and sighed.
Seth noted that she dismissed it without bothering to respond this time, but she kept the phone in her lap, almost as if she expected more calls.
Again, he had the uneasy feeling that all wasn’t quite right in his sister’s world. Or was he transposing some of his own disappointment and confusion? He was on tenterhooks about Alice coming to the party, not to mention her offer to babysit Charlie this evening.
He knew the babysitting agreement was some kind of challenge that Alice had set herself, but he wasn’t sure why this was suddenly important to her. They were supposed to be stepping back from each other, but this felt like a step closer.
Seth couldn’t deny that her belated offer had been handy, but he wasn’t going to be messed around. There was already enough drama with his family, without relationship hassles. And he really had no idea how well Alice would cope with his son.
Checking the rear-vision mirror again, Seth saw that Charlie had nodded off, still clutching the monkey. He always looked angelic and vulnerable when he was asleep, and Seth hoped all would go smoothly for the little guy and Alice. At least she wouldn’t be far away, and he supposed she could always sing out if there was a drama.
Just the same, he would be relieved when this evening and the party, plus their charade, were behind them. Then he and Alice could say goodbye once and for all, and his life could get back to normal.
If only he knew what the new normal would be after the family’s meeting.
33
By mid-afternoon, Jackie was starting to feel calmer. Lunch had proved pleasant enough, as their salad was deemed to be an acceptable accompaniment to Deborah’s quinoa.
Deborah could still drink wine, Jackie noted with mild amusement, and Hugh opened a lovely cold South Australian white, which helped to mellow things nicely. Actually, with Xavier joining them in a drink, it wasn’t long before a second bottle was needed.
They managed
to keep their conversation to safe topics – the weather, old friends, the latest gossip from Deborah’s art world, and Xavier’s rather vague plans to launch a music career. When Hugh rather cautiously alluded to the sticky question of the Ruthven Downs inheritance, Deborah laughed.
‘What a storm in a teacup, Hugh. Why on earth would I ever want this place?’
Jackie tittered at this with nervous relief.
Hugh looked more relaxed too. ‘I suppose Mum must have had good reasons for not taking Dad’s letter to the lawyers,’ he said.
Deborah nodded. ‘Dad was drinking heavily back then, if you remember. It was around the time he had his stroke, and I think he was starting to have memory lapses. There was a chance he might have written that letter one night in a drunken fury and then – who knows? The upset might have even brought on the stroke.’
Emboldened by this, Jackie added her two cents’ worth. ‘Well, I don’t believe Hugh is Tom Kearney’s son.’
‘Of course he isn’t,’ responded Deborah emphatically. ‘Hugh has Dad’s dark hair and eyes after all, and you only had to see them standing together to notice the similarities. It was obvious,’ she said with an expressive wave of her hand. ‘Their height, the breadth of their shoulders, the shape of their jaws. Even the way they held themselves was the same.’
‘Well, there you go,’ Hugh said with a bemused smile. ‘I never realised we had so much in common.’
Jackie refrained from clapping her hands in delight, but she was certainly thrilled with this happy resolution. ‘It takes an artist’s eye to spot details like that,’ she said generously, and her gaze lingered on a painting that Deborah had given them that hung on the dining room wall.
She’d always liked this particular work, despite her reservations about her sister-in-law. It was an oil painting of a rainforest track with towering trees on either side, and it seemed to perfectly capture the magical beauty of the twisting vines, the lush green palm fronds, the thick buttressed tree trunks, while offering glimpses through the canopy to a bright blue tropical sky.
Even more interesting, and painted in careful, loving detail, was the back view of a hiker on the track. A man, tall and lean, in a khaki shirt and shorts, thick socks and hiking boots. He had sandy-coloured, curly hair and tanned, muscular legs, and Jackie had often wondered if he was Xavier’s father. Deborah had always been tight-lipped about that subject.
Did all families have so many secrets?
Jackie was relieved that at least she could breathe much more easily now. She and Deborah were getting along famously, and Deb even helped her to clear the lunch things.
They had only just finished this task when Seth and Flora arrived. The travellers, having stopped at a café in Kuranda, weren’t hungry, but more cups of tea – including herbal tea for Deborah – were served on the verandah. This, amid joyous greetings and hugs and major fussing over Charlie, as well as commiserations with Flora over her boyfriend’s last-minute change of plans.
Then it was time for Charlie’s nap and Seth carted him off. Hugh declared that he could do with a nap too.
‘An excellent idea.’ Deborah was a little flushed and animated after several glasses of wine at lunch. ‘I find the drive from Cape Trib rather tiring these days. I might take that diary of Mum’s to read while I have a lie-down.’
Peace reigned as Hugh and Deborah retreated to their rooms. Xavier, who hadn’t been allocated a bedroom, would be sleeping on the day bed on the verandah. He announced that he’d go for a bit of a wander.
Left to themselves, Jackie and Flora opted for a second cuppa and the chance for a proper mother-and-daughter chat.
‘You might like to do a little unpacking first,’ Jackie suggested to Flora, as she refilled the electric jug. ‘You must be hot in those clothes.’
‘Mmmm.’ Flora glanced down at her dress and black cardigan and shrugged. ‘I guess.’
She came back in denim shorts and a long-sleeved white cotton top, looking almost like the country girl Jackie remembered, although in the past Flora’s nut-brown hair had been long and usually tied back in a careless ponytail, and she’d practically lived in singlet tops.
Looking at her daughter now, Jackie thought she seemed paler, but that was probably to be expected after eighteen months in Melbourne.
‘Are you tired?’ she couldn’t help asking. ‘You’ve had a long journey. Feel free to have a rest, too, if you want to.’
Flora shook her head. ‘I’m fine, Mum. I won’t sleep tonight if I have a rest now.’
‘I really like that asymmetrical bob,’ Jackie added. ‘I would have loved to try something like that when I was young. It makes you look very trendy and sophisticated.’
‘Thanks.’ Flora grinned, clearly pleased.
She’d brought her mobile phone back to the kitchen, and she checked it again now. Jackie had seen her checking it several times since she’d arrived. She supposed her daughter was now one of those young people who couldn’t bear to be separated from their phones.
Jackie had seen them in cafés, young people sitting at tables in groups, every head bowed as they each madly scrolled through Facebook, or texted someone miles away, instead of talking to the friends they were actually dining with. She found this behaviour bizarre, but knew it was probably a sure sign that she was growing old.
‘I suppose Oliver’s missing you,’ she couldn’t help suggesting as her daughter frowned at the small screen in her hands.
‘Um . . . yes, he likes to keep in touch.’ Something about the way Flora said this bothered Jackie, but then the girl surprised her by coming close and dropping a warm kiss on her cheek. ‘Thanks for the flowers in my room, Mum.’
‘Oh.’ Jackie shrugged at the unexpectedness of this. ‘You know me, always fussing with flowers.’
‘Yes, but it’s wonderful to come home and see things looking so lovely and just the way they’ve always been. When I was a kid, I never really appreciated what a great job you did, keeping the place always looking so nice.’
‘Gosh, thank you, darling.’ Jackie’s flush of pleasure was somewhat marred when she remembered how uncertain the future of this home was now, even though Deb had been so reassuring at lunch. She wasn’t going to relax yet. That might have been the wine talking.
But she didn’t want to talk about the property now with Flora.
This evening’s meeting would come all too quickly.
Once they were back on the verandah, the conversation with her daughter wasn’t quite as cosy and close as Jackie had hoped for. Flora chattered happily enough about Melbourne, about the orchestra and the friends she’d made, but now that Jackie was face to face with her, the enthusiasm that had sounded so real in emails seemed a bit forced.
Jackie remembered the strange sense of foreboding she’d felt when she’d read Flora’s last email about Oliver’s sudden change of plans.
She didn’t want to spoil her daughter’s homecoming by asking probing questions too early in the piece, but at some point over the next couple of days, she needed to satisfy herself that Flora really was happy.
Flora was asking a few questions of her own, mostly about Seth’s girlfriend, Alice Miller, when her attention was caught by something in the distance. She paused in mid-sentence.
Looking out across the lawns, she frowned. ‘Look, Mum. What’s up with Xavier?’
Jackie followed the direction of her daughter’s gaze, past the boundary of the homestead gardens to the cluster of sheds. Xavier seemed to be coming from the sheds and his normally dreamy demeanour had vanished. Instead, he looked agitated and was moving towards them with unusual speed.
Even as they watched, he broke into a jog. Jackie frowned. She could see Xavier’s face more clearly now and he looked as if he’d seen a ghost. ‘I wonder if he’s seen a snake,’ she said.
Flora shook her head. ‘I reckon he’d be used to snakes, living at Cape Tribulation.’
‘Tree snakes, yes, but probably not brown snakes.’ Jackie was on her
feet now, as Xavier raced up to them. If he’d been bitten he shouldn’t be running. He should have stayed where he was and used his phone, like any other person his age.
Chances were, though, that Xavier was like his mother and didn’t bother with mobile phones. Already Jackie was planning a frantic dash to their first-aid cupboard. She could grab a tourniquet and apply it while Flora dialled for an ambulance.
‘What the hell’s going on?’ Xavier shouted as he leaped up the verandah steps with uncharacteristic energy, before he came bearing down on them, wild eyed and red-faced.
Jackie stared at him, totally perplexed. Clearly it wasn’t a snake bite that bothered him. She spoke calmly. ‘What are you talking about, Xavier?’
He waved his arms dramatically. ‘What are Mum’s paintings doing in a shed out there?’
‘Her paintings?’ Jackie felt her jaw drop so fast it probably dislocated. ‘For heaven’s sake,’ she said. ‘Which shed? Where?’
When Xavier continued to glare at her, she added defensively, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Like hell you don’t.’ Xavier, habitually undemonstrative, was extremely expressive now. He gave another theatrical fling of his arm and pointed back to the sheds. ‘There’s a pile of them over there. What are you lot up to? I’m getting Mum.’
Before Jackie could make any sense of this, Xavier strode off down the verandah towards the bedrooms. As he passed her, she caught another whiff of cigarettes. She didn’t really know what marijuana smelled like, but this was certainly a different aroma from normal tobacco.
She realised then what this was all about. Deborah and Xavier had always been rainforest hippies and Xavier had snuck off to the sheds to have a quiet smoke. He was probably hallucinating. Deborah would just laugh.
Xavier, meanwhile, was now yelling at the top of his lungs. ‘Mum, come quick. Mum! You gotta see what I’ve found.’
Surely he had to be seeing things? On some kind of trip? How could they possibly have any of Deborah’s paintings in one of their sheds?
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