‘I’m assuming this request wasn’t honoured?’
Stella shook her head. ‘It was only a few days later that Magnus had the stroke,’ she said. ‘He never mentioned the letter again. He was drinking heavily and rather confused and unwell right up until the stroke.’
‘So you left things as they were?’
‘I had to. I couldn’t just hand the letter over. Magnus’s judgement was so misguided. It was all so unfair. I couldn’t let him cut Hugh off like that. But I couldn’t bring myself to destroy the letter. That was a step too far.’
Tom frowned. ‘What did you do?’
‘I – I hid it.’
‘And now, it’s no longer an issue,’ Tom said quietly.
This, unfortunately, was only partly true. ‘I still feel dreadfully guilty about what I did. I don’t want my children to know.’
Tom sat back, watching her through narrowed eyes, and she could see his mind working. ‘You devoted yourself to your husband while he was ill.’
‘It was the least I could do.’
‘Stella, you can’t live a life of self-sacrifice forever. Now it’s time to consider your own needs.’
She had to ask. ‘Why did you come here, Tom? What were you planning?’
‘I came here with an open mind.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘And a hopeful heart.’
Stella dropped her gaze quickly, before he could see the tears stinging her eyes.
A hopeful heart.
She couldn’t bear to think she might destroy that hope. But for so long, for almost thirty years, she’d kept the two worlds, the two halves of her life, so very carefully apart. It was far too late now to let them recklessly collide.
She had no guilt about her relationship with Tom, but she was terrified that if she told her children about him now, the whole truth about the will might somehow unravel. She couldn’t let that happen.
‘Look,’ Tom said gently, as if he’d sensed her distress. ‘I know it was a little unfair of me to land on your doorstep out of the blue. I wasn’t planning to sweep you off your feet, or demand that you rush away with me.’ He smiled shyly. ‘But you must know you’re very special to me, Stella.’
Reaching across the table, she touched her fingers to the back of his hand. ‘It’s wonderful to see you again, Tom.’ Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to speak calmly. ‘And I don’t want to lose you again.’
‘That’s good to know.’ He turned her hand over and lifted it to his lips, pressed a kiss to her inner wrist.
Stella shivered. ‘You’ll stay for dinner, won’t you?’
Tom stayed for dinner, and he stayed the night. Miraculously, and to Stella’s amazed delight, the years of their separation melted away. Although they were in their fifties now, they were the same in every way that counted, and making love was as natural and necessary to them as breathing.
Afterwards, as they lay together, their heartbeats gradually slowing, Tom let out a happy sigh. ‘I tried to tell myself that this was just a wartime thing. That out of all that darkness and evil and brutality you were something good, but I shouldn’t try to make it last a lifetime.’
‘But it has lasted, hasn’t it?’
‘It has.’ With a suntanned hand, he traced a line across her pale belly. ‘So what are we going to do?’
If only she could throw herself wildly into his arms and tell him she’d go anywhere, anyhow, any time. But she couldn’t risk opening a window on her secret.
Besides, she’d already made her plans. Until today, she’d been excited about her new place in Atherton. For the first time in her life, independence beckoned. She would make new friends, join a painting group or a gardening club, and still remain within easy reach of her family.
‘We’ve been waiting for thirty years,’ she told him gently. ‘Let’s not try to solve everything tonight. We’ll work something out.’
The next day she took Tom to see her new house, travelling with him in his hire car, which felt like a very brave step.
‘The garden’s rather overgrown,’ she admitted as they pushed the slightly rusty front gate open. ‘But I’ll enjoy knocking it into shape.’
The house was small, a low-set white weatherboard cottage with deep, timber-framed casement windows. They opened these wide to let in fresh air, and Tom dutifully admired the renovated kitchen, the generous, north-facing sunroom that looked out into the garden, the functional bathroom and two bedrooms.
There was no furniture so they picnicked on the back steps, eating the chicken and asparagus sandwiches that Stella had made and drinking mugs of coffee from a thermos.
‘I guess I can always visit you here,’ Tom said.
Stella almost hugged him with relief. ‘I hope you do. I’d love to see you as often as you could make it down here, Tom.’
‘At least New Guinea’s just a step up the road, so to speak.’
‘And maybe we can finally get to know each other properly.’
This brought a smiling frown from him. ‘That’s a funny thing to say after all these years.’
‘I know, but it’s true, if you think about it. We’ve only ever had desperately short snatches of time together and we’ve lived such separate lives for so long. I have no idea about so many things about you.’
‘What do you want to know?’
Stella shrugged. ‘Anything. Your favourite colour?’
‘Orange,’ he said quickly.
She stared at him. ‘Really?’
‘I like all the bright tropical colours.’
‘Well, okay, maybe I could have guessed that if I’d really tried, but there is a host of other things I don’t know. What kind of music you like, or your taste in books. Your favourite food. All we really have in common is how we feel about each other.’
Tom smiled at her again, watching her from beneath lowered lids, as he leaned back against the door frame. ‘I look forward to getting to know you, Stella Drummond.’
‘And I’m rather keen to know all about you.’
They laughed. She felt happy, truly happy, for the first time in ages. She and Tom were coming to a new understanding, and she was beginning to feel confident that they could make this work.
As they finished their picnic, she talked about her plans for the backyard.
‘As you can see there are quite a few fruit trees that need pruning. I seem to have a mandarin and a lime, and I think that’s a lemon tree hanging over the fence from the neighbour’s place. I’m hoping the new owner won’t want to cut it down.’
Tom raised an eyebrow. ‘Has someone just bought the place next door?’
‘Well, no. It hasn’t actually been sold yet. The fellow who owns both these houses tried to persuade me to buy them together, a sort of job lot, but I’m not very interested in an investment and I don’t really have the spare funds.’
Tom was on his feet now, trying to peer through the shrubbery to the neighbouring house. ‘Have you looked at the house?’
‘Yes, it’s quite nice, a bit bigger than this place, actually, and I could have done with the extra bedroom. But I fell in love with this house’s lovely sunroom.’
He turned back to her, his eyes bright in his tanned face. For a long moment he stared at her. ‘You know what I’m thinking, don’t you?’
Stunned, Stella stared back at him. ‘You’re not thinking of buying it?’
‘Why not?’
She couldn’t answer him, couldn’t think. Her head was spinning.
‘Wouldn’t you want me as your neighbour?’ he said.
‘Well, yes, of course I would. I’d love it, but –’
‘It makes sense, Stella.’ Tom was grinning like an excited child. ‘We’re used to living apart. I’m not ready to retire, so I could keep working for the time being and have a base here. Next door.’
‘Yes.’
‘You could preserve your independence.’
And keep my secrets safe. His excitement was catching. She could feel it bubbling through her,
as intoxicating as champagne. ‘And we’d only have a fence between us.’
‘Instead of oceans.’
Stella laughed. ‘It could work, couldn’t it?’
‘It could work brilliantly.’
Now she was also scrambling to her feet. ‘The agency’s only a few streets away. We could go and get the key.’
‘I don’t need to look the house over, not if it comes with your recommendation.’
‘But you may as well, Tom, while you’re here. You never know, it might have white ants or something.’
Tom looked up to the sky and gave a disbelieving shake of his head. ‘Are you always this practical?’
‘Well, yes, I used to be a nurse, remember?’
His gaze met hers. He grinned. ‘I certainly do remember.’
‘And you’re an engineer, so you should be practical too.’
‘Okay, okay. I’ll check the house out.’
‘Now?’
‘No, not now. Enough with the practicalities.’ Tom beckoned. ‘What you need, my dear girl, is more romance in your life. Come here.’
Stella was laughing as she floated into his arms.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Writers are often asked where they get their ideas from and often we don’t really know. The ideas seem to filter in via the subconscious, the ‘girls in the basement’. For this book, however, I do have a few specific sources of inspiration that I’d like to mention.
To begin with, I share Alice’s love of old furniture. Even before I was married, I bought an English oak dressing table, which still has pride of place in our bedroom, and from early in our marriage, my husband and I collected old bits and pieces, including a silky oak sideboard. My husband, Elliot, developed an interest in restoring the sideboard and this involved getting the mirror re-silvered. And yes, he discovered papers behind the mirror – nothing as mysterious as an old will, but the front page of a newspaper from 1915. We were fascinated, of course, and we included a newspaper from the current day when we put the mirror back in place, and the idea of a deeper mystery hidden behind a mirror has teased my imagination ever since.
In terms of research, I’m deeply indebted to Noel Barber’s wonderful book, Sinister Twilight, about the fall of Singapore in 1942. I should add that while writing the historical strand of this story, I chose to place Stella on the Empire Star, the one ship that made it safely back to Australia, despite bombing attacks and serious damage. However, I was very aware that I’d skirted details of the terrible fate that awaited many of the Australian nurses who left Singapore on the Wah Sui and the Vyner Brooke, and I would like to acknowledge here the inspiring courage of these women.
I’m indebted to the wonderful team at Penguin Australia who always work so hard to make sure that my books come to you in the best possible shape. These include deeply insightful Ali Watts, Clementine Edwards, Nikki Lusk, Fay Helfenbaum, Emma Dowden and Alexandra Hampton.
The Grazier’s Wife is a story about generations and I’d also like to thank the four generations of my family who provide inspiration in so many ways. They range from my mum, Beryl, who is ninety this year, down to my beautiful grandchildren, Tom, Lucy, Lilly, Sophie, Milla and Jasper.
Finally, most importantly, my love and thanks go to Elliot, who not only restored the sideboard, but has also read every word along the way and has given me so much support, insight and unfailing encouragement.
About the Author
A former English teacher, Barbara Hannay is a city-bred girl with a yen for country life. Many of her forty-plus books are set in rural and outback Australia and have been enjoyed by readers around the world. She has won the RITA, awarded by Romance Writers of America, and has twice won the Romantic Book of the Year award in Australia. In her own version of life imitating art, Barbara and her husband currently live on a misty hillside in beautiful Far North Queensland where they keep heritage pigs and chickens and an untidy but productive garden.
barbarahannay.com
ALSO AVAILABLE FROM PENGUIN BOOKS
Zoe’s Muster
Home Before Sundown
Moonlight Plains
The Secret Years
MICHAEL JOSEPH
UK | USA | Canada | Ireland | Australia
India | New Zealand | South Africa | China
Penguin Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies
whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.
First published by Penguin Random House Australia Pty Ltd, 2016
Text copyright © Barbara Hannay 2016
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Cover design by Alex Ross © Penguin Random House Australia Pty Ltd
Text design by Samantha Jayaweera © Penguin Random House Australia Pty Ltd
Cover photographs – Farmhouse: Darren Schiller Photography,
Woman: PeopleImages, Horses: Janelle Lugge/Shutterstock
penguin.com.au
ISBN: 978-1-76014-214-8
THE BEGINNING
Let the conversation begin...
Follow the Penguin Twitter
Keep up-to-date with all our stories YouTube
Pin ‘Penguin Books’ to your Pinterest
Like ‘Penguin Books’ on Facebook
Find out more about the author and
discover more stories like this at penguin.com.au
The Grazier's Wife Page 37