An Outback Affair/Runaway Wife/Outback Bridegroom/Outback Surrender/Home To Eden

by Margaret Way

  Christine was looking forward immensely to meeting her niece, and had high hopes that Fiona and Suzanne, who had never really had a home, would “click”. If Fiona were anything like Sarah, her mother, with Sarah’s kindness and sensitivity, she would be a great support for the troubled Suzanne.

  On the third morning Christine enjoyed her usual early-morning ride, coming home to surprise her parents having a rip-roaring argument. Their voices floated out of the study, carrying along the passageway into the entrance hall. Christine was astounded. She had rarely heard her parents argue. In fact she could count the number of times on one hand. Her father was a highly civilised man, perhaps too civilised for his own good. He had always allowed her mother to have her way. His only interventions over the years had been to stand by his daughter against her grandmother Ruth and Enid.

  She had no wish to embarrass them, so she started to tiptoe across the marbled expanse to the staircase, almost reaching it before her mother, tears pouring down her face, obviously unable to control herself, dashed into sight.

  Christine was horrified. “Mum, what’s the matter?” Her mother rarely cried.

  “Out of my way, Christine.” Enid was shaking with anger, almost berserk.

  “Can’t I help?” This struck her as pathetic. Her formidable mother in fits of weeping?

  Enid, a bundle of nerves, rounded on her, looking as if she wanted to kick and scream. “Your father wants to leave me,” she cried at the top of her lungs.

  “Oh, my God!” Why hadn’t she guessed it was coming? Kyall had warned her.

  “Is that all you can say?” Enid cried wildly. “‘Oh, my God’? We can’t put pressure on Him.” Her handsome face was working, as were her twisting hands. “You always were on your father’s side.”

  “Oh, Mum, that’s not fair. I’m so, so sorry.” Why couldn’t there be understanding between them?

  “You’re sorry?” Enid’s brilliant dark eyes flashed, making her look momentarily like her own mother, Ruth. “How do you think I feel? I’ve done everything—looked after him—for thirty-three years. And he’s betrayed me with some wicked bitch in town. The shame of it! Thank God your grandmother is not here to see it.”

  The hypocrisy was too much for Christine. “Leave Gran out of it,” she said crisply. “I’ve heard all about her exploits. Words don’t express the damage Gran did. She treated Dad badly. She used to talk about ‘looking after’ him, too. It was a myth. Dad has worked long and hard for Wunnamurra. And you.”

  “So! We know where you stand,” Enid exclaimed bitterly. “Always sticking up for your father. I see it as treachery on your part.” Enid suddenly collapsed onto a step, letting her head fall into her hands.

  “I’m very concerned about you too, Mum.” Cautiously Christine approached her. “I don’t want to see you hurt and humiliated.”

  Enid shot up her head, gesturing for Christine to be quiet. “To think your father has been having a sexual relationship with another woman! I can’t get over it.” She gave a thin, slightly hysterical laugh.

  “Why not, Mum?” Christine sat down quietly on the step beside her mother. “It’s really astonishing the way you believe that because you can function well enough without a sex-life so can Dad. He’s a fit, healthy, handsome man.”

  “He’s my husband,” Enid shouted, as though everything else was of no consequence.

  “That doesn’t make him your slave.”

  “Don’t talk to me like that, young lady,” Enid said in a voice so sharp it would have made anyone jump. “I don’t like it. I demand respect. I imagine you’ve seen pretty well everything these last years, away from your good home, but we do things differently here. Marriage vows are sacred. There has never been a divorce in our family.”

  “Are you worried about the scandal, or losing Dad?” Christine countered, amazed she and her mother hadn’t come to blows.

  “I won’t lose him.” Enid set her jaw. “I refuse to let him go.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mum, but you can’t force Dad to stay.”

  “You’re dead wrong about that.”

  “How?”

  “By making it impossible for him to live. Certainly not on McQueen territory, or in the style he’s become accustomed to.”

  “I doubt he wants any of it,” Christine said, thinking her father would have all the financial support he wanted from her. “Who is this woman he wants to leave you for?”

  A raised vein in Enid’s temple throbbed. “He won’t tell me, but I’ll find out. She has to be crazy if she thinks she can walk over me. I’ll kill her.”

  “That’s not only stupid, Mum, it’s ugly. You’ve all but handed Dad over to her on a platter. You’ve sidelined him without a thought. Surely having separate bedrooms is a rebuff?”

  Enid responded fiercely. “That’s absolutely none of your business.”

  “Maybe not, but it seems to me you might start thinking about how you lost him. Or how much you’re going to fight to get him back. It’ll be a fair fight, I hope.”

  Enid put her hands over her ears while Christine was talking, removing them when she stopped. “What would you know about marital problems?” she jeered. “Aren’t you the one who lost Mitchell Claydon? I’ve been a great wife and a great mother. I am shockingly, horribly disappointed in you and your father, Christine. It seems after all I’ve done for you both neither of you cares about me. Why don’t you go to your father now?” she urged angrily. “He’s in the study. And with our thirty-fourth anniversary coming up. The timing! Talk about treachery! He says she’s a lovely person. Can you beat that? Did you know your father was sleeping around?”

  Christine stood up, wondering if her relationship with her mother was going to be as bad in adult life as it had been in her childhood and adolescence. “Why don’t you talk to Kyall about it?” she suggested quietly. “He’s your favourite, remember? I’m only Christine. I will go and talk to Dad. Despite my best intentions my conversations with you always turn into a disaster. Still, I’m sorry, Mum. Your happiness is important to me.”

  “Oh, go away!” Enid cried vehemently. “You’ve never loved me, Christine. We’re totally different kinds of people. But my son won’t tolerate my suffering.”

  Christine found her father sitting behind his desk, as quiet as her mother was frantic.

  “Gosh, Dad, what have you done?” She shut the door behind her and took a seat on the leather Chesterfield.

  “I hated doing it, Chris. But I’ve tried as hard as I can to stay with my marriage. It was doomed from the moment we moved into the homestead with Ruth.”

  “Why didn’t you move out?”

  “And take Enid away from the place she adored? Then when Kyall came it was impossible. Ruth idolized the boy. She set him up as her heir. Kyall McQueen. Your mother and I were never a loving couple. In our early days I was very fond of her. We had an understanding. I suppose I thought or hoped it would work out. But both of us had made terrible choices and we had to be responsible for them. I could never have lost you children. And Ruth would have seen to it that I did.”

  “She’d have let me go like a shot.” Christine laughed shortly.

  “I don’t think so. She needed you to torment. Your mother is just a born nagger.”

  “She’s devastated,” Christine said. “Slashed wide open.”

  Max’s whole body winced. “I’m truly sorry, but I have a right to some happiness in life. You and Kyall don’t need me now. And your mother has never needed me.”

  “I don’t think that’s right at all, Dad. She just doesn’t know how to show it.”

  “Don’t you think that amounts to the same thing? It’s all too late now. Ruth’s death ended the whole sorry charade. I need to be my own man, not your mother’s lackey. Anyway, for the first time in my life I’m deeply, truly in love.”

  And didn’t she understand how glorious that was! “May I ask who she is?” Christine spoke gently.

  “You don’t know her. She came to the town
after you left. She’s very beautiful and very talented. A lot younger than I am, but nevertheless she loves me. Her name is Carol Lu. She’s an artist. She paints landscapes and she gives classes. I thought she was unattainable—that the whole thing, the attraction, was in my mind—then all of a sudden I knew. She cares as much for me as I care for her. She gives me strength. The strength to make this clean break.”

  “But, Dad, it’s like an amputation,” Christine protested. “I know Mum isn’t good at it, but she does love you. I don’t think it has ever occurred to her you’d leave her.”

  “I am leaving her, Chris,” her father said, “and I don’t feel guilty. It’s a tremendous experience for me, breaking up my marriage, but I’m sick to death of living a lie. For a long time now my marriage has been pointless and joyless. I don’t want to die without experiencing some happiness. Carol can give it to me and I to her. We communicate in a way your mother and I never have. It’s a wonderful, extraordinary intimacy. And I can’t give it up. I can’t take living here any more either.”

  Christine felt such a rush of gloom she actually slumped. “You can’t mean you’re leaving before Kyall’s wedding, Dad? The timing couldn’t be worse.”

  “Do you think I haven’t thought of that?” Max bowed his head. “I never meant to speak out today, but something your mother said—something about my failing her—brought it all to a head. She simply doesn’t know how to give relief or comfort. She never got any as a child and it scarred her for life.”

  “What’s Kyall going to say?”

  “Kyall won’t be surprised,” Max answered quietly, but with inner confidence. “Kyall won’t begrudge me happiness either. I know this has come as a terrible wrenching shock to your mother, and to you, but this is my last chance at happiness and I’m going to seize it. The marriage is over.”

  In one way it would be a tremendous relief to get away to Sydney, Christine thought. As hard as she tried she couldn’t meet her mother’s needs, or help her deal with this deeply painful crisis in her life.

  In her mother’s eyes, and with her mother’s talent for self-dramatization, Christine had become the enemy, not an ally. Christine had always loved her father the best. The two of them had always taken one another’s side. Enid couldn’t and wouldn’t face the painful truth that she, with massive support from Ruth, had created her own problems—alienating her husband to the extent he was desperate to strike out in another direction with another woman who made him feel totally loved.

  As her father had predicted, Kyall hadn’t been shocked by the news. To him it had seemed inevitable, given the awesome power his grandmother had wielded over both his parents—keeping his mother tied close to the apron strings and at the same time treating his father as an outsider. Like Christine, he hated to see their mother in desperate pain, but neither could fail to feel sympathy for their father’s plight.

  It was a grievous situation, generating a lot of anger on Enid’s part, and it had thrown the wedding plans into a quandary. Finally, after a series of family meetings, Max and Enid had agreed to maintain a united front—at least until after the wedding was over.

  “I couldn’t survive the shame,” Enid had told them with burning black eyes.

  Perhaps she secretly believed the marriage could be rebuilt. Neither Kyall nor Christine held out any such hopes.

  Plans for the polo-picnic day were fast-tracked by Sarah, with Christine’s valuable help, to fit in with Christine’s schedule. The hospital always ran on a tight budget, despite the McQueens’ legendary generosity. It was Christine’s late grandmother who had caused the Bush Hospital to be built in the first place; in all honesty, it was one of the few truly good things the despotic Ruth had ever done.

  With Sarah so busy at the hospital, and her mother so shaken by events, it fell to Christine to do much of the organizing—which suited her just fine. It kept her occupied and she found she had a natural flair for the job. Also, she loved the game of polo—polo being the focus of sporting activities in the Outback. There were other sports too, but exciting, potentially dangerous polo brought in the crowds and got the juices flowing. More to the point, as Sarah pointed out, it brought in donations for the hospital. The bigger the win of a favourite team, the bigger the donation.

  Kyall’s team, which included Mitch, was hot favourite to win. Both men were wonderful athletes. Kyall was now lost to his legions of female fans, as he was shortly to marry Sarah, but Mitch was still available. Most of them knew all about his long relationship with Christine Reardon, but the hot gossip was—and Christine couldn’t seem to correct it—that she was involved with Ben Savage, who was due in Australia to promote his TV show. That left the gorgeous Mitch still out there, as far as all the local girls were concerned.

  It turned out to be a wonderful day—a great success as a fundraiser, with everyone saying they must do it again.

  The Logan sisters attended, as a matter of course, seated amid a large group of young people, all of them friends since childhood. Amanda, in character, looked very eye-catching—teasing, posing, laughing impishly, letting out little screams of excitement when Mitch in particular thundered down the field, her big blue eyes openly devouring him. She was determined on having a good time, which apparently included flirting with every attractive man in sight despite her enormous crush on Mitchell Claydon. For Amanda, flirting appeared to be second nature.

  Afterwards Amanda made it her business to track down Mitch who, as a member of the winning team, looked like a god in the saddle and was surrounded by admirers, male and female. Everyone knew Mitch. He was a great guy.

  Amanda oozed her way in close, grabbing him by the arm. “Aren’t you going to say hello to an old friend?” She smiled brightly, hugging him so her breasts pressed into his arm.

  “Hi, Amanda!” Mitch tossed her a casual smile. “You look very pretty.” Indeed she did, with creamy bosoms popping out of a summery yellow halter-necked dress.

  She let out a little squeal and twirled around. “I’ve never forgotten how you told me I looked good in yellow.”

  “You do,” Mitch assured her in a somewhat less indulgent voice.

  “Congratulations on your win,” she said sweetly, feeling tingly all over.

  “It was a great match. Shelley here with you?”

  “Yes. We wouldn’t have missed today for the world. When is Christine going back to Sydney?” she asked, willing the stunning, vivacious Christine, who was circling the guests, to stay away.

  “Why don’t you ask her?”

  “I will.” She laughed, a little bit of acid etched into the tinkle. “I must tell you how sorry I am I caused friction between you two. I was certain I’d read that article, but it must have been about someone else.”

  “Forget it, Amanda. I have. Just be more careful in future.”

  “Oh, I will. I felt just dreadful afterwards. Naturally I apologised to Christine. She’s such a lovely person and she understood. These things happen all the time.”

  “What things?” Mitch looked over Amanda’s head with its buttery curls.

  He could see Christine in the near distance, her lovely thick, springy hair, worn loose the way he liked it, lifting in the breeze. She looked effortlessly, supremely elegant in an all-white outfit that showed off her beautiful body. She wore a slinky designer top with a blue and silver logo and narrow linen pants. She had done a great job of organizing this event, and was a vibrant presence in the swarming sea of faces. Chris was very good with people. She made everything come right. But he couldn’t wait to get her to himself.

  “You know the way things get misreported.” Amanda was nattering away like a flea in his ear. “But I didn’t get this wrong.” In a flash she unzipped her yellow shoulder bag, pulling out a folded piece of newspaper and waving it tauntingly like a red flag at a bull. “Didn’t Christine tell us her affair with Ben Savage was well and truly over?”

  “Amanda, don’t embarrass yourself,” Mitch warned, but Amanda fumbled with the newsp
aper as the breeze threatened to whip it from her and shoved it beneath his nose.

  “So what’s that, then?” She looked up at Mitch triumphantly, stabbing a fingernail at the clipping so hard it tore. “A red-hot example of lust, or is it love?”

  “Throw it away, Amanda,” Mitch advised coolly. “That’s an old picture. It says so right there.”

  “Sure, but you have to admit that’s some smooch!”

  Anger engulfed him. “What do you hope to gain by this, Amanda?”

  She seized his hand, looking up at him earnestly. “I’m on your side, Mitch. I’m your friend. I’m here for you. I want to save you pain.”

  “You’re way too kind.”

  “I really care about you, Mitch,” she protested. “When I saw that picture in the paper it worried me deeply. How can anyone turn it on and off so easily? Especially with that guy. Let’s face it. She left you once. She’ll do it again.”

  “I’d like to think that’s my business, Amanda, not yours.” Mitch looked at her directly. “Why don’t you toddle off now? I’d be more than grateful.”

  “Oh, Mitch, you make me sound like a troublemaker…”

  “Amanda, we already know you are.”

  What a meddlesome little bitch, Mitch thought as, lip trembling, Amanda flounced off. But she was right about one thing. That kiss looked very real. So real he was back to his fluctuating moods. Was it possible he and Ben Savage were united by one thing? Were both of them Christine’s victims? Sometimes it seemed there was no reassurance to be had.

  Trust me. That’s all I’m asking you to do.

  He could hear Christine’s voice distinctly as it sounded in his head. He could see her large, beautiful eyes, imploring him to have faith in her. It should be easy. In some ways it was. But there was always something to stir up doubt.