Looking at her elderly, frail father, she remembered how tall and broad shouldered he’d once been. When she was little he’d been her magnificent hero and she felt a fierce rush of love.
Quickly followed by shame.
Harry looked up from the letters, his long, thin face topped by snow-white hair and his grey eyes glittering damply behind his glasses. ‘Your mother was so excited when you were born. We both were.’
‘Yes, I could feel it just reading her letter.’
‘You were the light of our lives.’ With a fond smile, Harry picked up the photo Primrose had sent. ‘Do you remember her?’
‘Yes.’ Ro breathed deeply to hold back a threatening sob. ‘I remember the way she used to read me stories like Winnie the Pooh and tuck me into bed. And I know I used to love her perfume.’
Harry smiled. ‘Moonlight Mist. I used to send away to Sydney for a bottle every year for her birthday.’
‘Really? I loved that scent. I can’t remember exactly how it smelled, but I know it was cool and flowery. And I remember how we used to sit together on the front steps and watch you come riding home on your horse.’
‘And then you would practically break your neck rushing down the stairs to meet me.’
Ro nodded, her mind swirling with memories now. ‘You’d lift me up to sit in the saddle and sometimes you’d put your hat on my head and it was so big it covered my eyes.’ She tried to smile but it was a very shaky and tear-blurred attempt. Another tissue was necessary.
‘Do you remember when we got you your own pony?’ Harry asked. ‘And the three of us went riding together?’
‘I think so. Did we go down along the riverbank? Was there a track?’
‘Yes, a cattle pad through the pandanus.’
Ro nodded. ‘That’s right. And the track took us under those big trees with low weeping branches.’
‘River paperbarks.’
A small silence fell as they sat there in the shabby old kitchen, lost in the mists of their memories. Ro could hear the ticking of the clock on the dresser and the shrill sound of children’s voices in a neighbour’s backyard.
‘Do you regret not staying out there at Kalkadoon, Dad? You loved it. You loved the bush.’
His bony shoulders lifted as he shrugged.
And then, because the guilt was nagging at her, ‘I know you left because of me. You were worried sick about me when I came home from England.’
‘Of course. You were so unsettled, and still so young.’
‘And I refused to go back to Kalkadoon.’
She had been at her angriest and most rebellious when she came home from England and she hadn’t wanted anything to do with her past life. So her father had moved to Townsville. ‘You gave it all up for me.’
And there it was. An admission she’d never been able to voice was finally out in the open.
‘It wasn’t such a huge sacrifice, Ro. I was ready for a change after all those years in the bush. And then your little Lucy came along. I wouldn’t have missed that time for quids. I’ve loved watching her grow. You’ve done such a good job with her.’
Genuinely shocked, Ro let out a gasp. ‘You think so? Really?’
‘Of course. Lucy’s an amazing young woman. That didn’t happen on its own.’
‘But – but I always thought I was a hopeless mum. I thought Lucy just inherited a strong sense of herself from you, or maybe from Mum.’
‘Lucy does remind me of George,’ Harry admitted. ‘But you put a huge effort into raising her, and it was mostly on your own. That can’t count for nothing.’
Ro was so used to thinking of herself as a failure this new perspective was going to take a while to sink in.
Harry tapped the second letter, the one he’d written. ‘This is my only regret,’ he said sadly. ‘I got it wrong, didn’t I, love? When I sent you to England, I thought you were old enough to understand. But I was never very good at explaining myself, not in conversation.’ He lifted a trembling hand to adjust his glasses. ‘Your mother used to tease me about it. Called me her man of few words.’ He blinked. ‘But that’s no excuse. I’m so sorry.’
‘Oh, Dad.’ Ro knew she couldn’t let him shoulder the blame. She’d been letting him do that for too long. She’d convinced herself that she was unloved – unlovable – and, as a result, unsuccessful in her life and in her relationships. But now the truth she’d denied was reaching out and grabbing her by the throat. Of course her father loved her. He’d always loved her.
Deep down, she supposed she’d known this, but she’d never accepted it. It was easier to tell herself lies and it was hard to kill those wrong ideas once they’d made their home inside her.
Now, with the letters on the table in front of them, this was her chance, possibly her last chance, to finally set things right.
‘I can’t let you cop all that blame, Dad. I’m the one who has to apologise. I might not have understood your reasoning when I was ten, but I was perfectly old enough to listen to you later. I was too stubborn and selfish. And I blamed you for my mistakes.’
Grabbing another tissue from the box, she quickly dabbed at her nose. ‘I’ve been so caught up with my own issues over the years, I didn’t stop to think about how hurt and worried you must have been. I’m sorry about that.’ Her mouth pulled out of shape as fresh tears threatened. ‘I am truly sorry.’
Her father looked stunned, and Ro could hardly blame him.
She managed a rueful, slightly embarrassed smile. ‘I’ve shocked you, haven’t I? You never expected to hear me say that.’
‘No, I don’t think I did.’
It felt very awkward, talking so openly with him. Awkward but necessary. And right. ‘Better late than never, huh?’
‘Oh yes, love.’ With tears in his eyes, Harry held out his arms. ‘Come here and give an old man a hug.’
Her vision blurred again as she skirted the table and her father felt frail and bony in her plump arms, but so, so precious.
They clung together tightly, both of them trembling a little. It was quite some time before Ro eventually released him, and she still felt a bit embarrassed. But happy, too. ‘I think we’ve earned a cup of tea.’
‘Ro,’ her father said gently, as she turned to fill the kettle. ‘We still haven’t talked about the other matter.’
She was standing at the sink with her back to him, but she felt her heart give a painful lurch.
‘You’ve never talked about the baby,’ he said.
‘Dad, don’t.’ The panicked protest burst from her as she gripped the edge of the sink.
‘Don’t you think it might help to at least admit that it happened? I know it’s a terrible wound that’s never really healed for you.’
Oh God. She’d been feeling so good, so cleansed and now Harry had ruined everything by digging deeper, going down to the dark, buried heart of her pain.
The baby. The ghastly clinic they’d taken her to.
‘Have you ever told Lucy about it?’ he persisted.
‘No, I can’t, Dad. I don’t want to.’
‘You’re strong enough, you know.’
‘I’m not.’ But she also knew that she wanted to be strong. All her life she’d wanted to be braver.
‘You know Lucy went to England because she was looking for answers. And she brought you these letters.’
‘Yes,’ Ro admitted softly.
‘If you finished the story, got it off your chest, you’d feel so much better.’
The really terrible thing was, she knew he was right. It wasn’t just an old cliché about confession being good for the soul. Already, after a single, simple apology, she felt a huge emotional release.
She took a deep breath, switched the kettle on, then found mugs and teabags. ‘All right,’ she said quickly, before she chickened out. ‘I’ll tell Lucy tomorrow. She’s jet-lagged today and there’s stuff I need to talk to Keith about first.’
This last thought about Keith had only just occurred to her, but it was plain as
day now that she’d cast him as another of her failures, when the poor man had done nothing wrong. She had decided that she wasn’t worthy of him but that was just another excuse, wasn’t it? Another avoidance tactic.
Enough. It really was time to get on top of her life, to be strong, just like her parents.
30
When Keith arrived home, Lucy was on the apartment’s balcony, trying to shove a certain tall, dark Englishman out of her head and to focus on the beautiful view in front of her. It was dusk and the Townsville sky was a blushing shade of pink, the river a soft wash of gold and grey, and she could see the creaming wake of a Magnetic Island ferry as it chugged beyond the rocky walls of the river mouth and out across the bay.
At the sound of Keith’s key in the lock and then his footsteps in the hall, she braced herself. This felt weird. Very awkward to be staying alone in the apartment with her mum’s new boyfriend. If she hadn’t been so jet-lagged, she would have found somewhere else. Tomorrow she would either swap places with her mother at Harry’s, or most definitely begin flat-hunting.
‘Hello there,’ Keith called heartily as he set takeaway containers on the kitchen counter.
Lucy went inside and they kissed cheeks. ‘Hello, Keith. Good to see you again.’
‘I bought Indian,’ he said. ‘I hope you like it.’
‘Absolutely. I love any kind of curry. But I’m sorry to be imposing on you like this. I hadn’t realised Mum was so tied up with Harry.’
‘Not at all.’ Keith couldn’t quite hide his frown. ‘What sort of day have you had? Did you see my note?’
‘Yes, thanks, and I took all of your good advice. I’ve slept, watched TV and used the pool.’
‘Excellent.’ Keith moved to the fridge. ‘Would you like a drink? Glass of wine?’
‘Um – yes, why not?’ Lucy thought Keith looked tired, even a little haggard. There were definite dark shadows under his eyes. She hoped her mum hadn’t done something stupid. ‘I guess we’ll eat on the balcony? Would you like me to fetch plates and cutlery?’
‘That would be useful. Thanks.’
In a matter of moments, they were sitting at the glass table outside where a light, refreshing breeze wafted in from the sea.
‘So, how are you, Keith?’ Lucy asked as they raised their glasses.
‘Very well, thanks.’ He seemed surprised by her question and after a short sip of wine, he turned his attention, perhaps a tad too studiously, to lifting the lids from containers.
‘Mmm. Smells fabulous.’ But Lucy felt compelled to pursue the issue that bothered her. ‘I must say I was pretty gobsmacked when Mum told me she’d moved into Harry’s place.’
Keith’s shoulders lifted in an uncomfortable shrug. ‘I’m sure her father appreciates her company. Anyway,’ he added a little too quickly, ‘tell me about your holiday.’
She obliged, giving him a potted version of her travels, but it hurt to talk about Cornwall. She couldn’t surgically remove Nick Myatt from her thoughts, and whenever she remembered him, she felt physical pain in her chest and her arms. Still, she told Keith about the Cornish scenery and the quaint little villages and she did her best to make it sound interesting. He listened with polite attention.
As they helped themselves to scoops of lamb korma, kadhai chicken and rice, night crept in. Keith lit the collection of pretty outdoor candles that Ro had bought. More lights came on in the buildings along the riverbank and their reflections shimmered softly on the water. A screeching flock of rainbow lorikeets swept overhead, flying to their night-time roosts. The setting was idyllic and yet Lucy had the distinct feeling that her companion was as sad and heartsore as she was.
Eventually, she had to say something. ‘Keith, I hope you don’t mind my asking, but is everything okay?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Were you fine about Mum moving to Harry’s? It all seemed a bit sudden to me.’
Carefully, Keith set his fork on his plate. In the candlelight his face was all planes and shadows but there was no mistaking his unhappiness.
‘Lucy, to be honest no, I’m not okay. I’m at a loss. I don’t know what went wrong. One minute we were so happy —’
To Lucy’s dismay, Keith was clearly struggling for control. He drank a little wine, then set the glass down.
‘Am I right in thinking there’s more to this than Harry’s illness?’ she asked gently. ‘Is it possible that Mum’s using Harry as an excuse?’
‘I’m sure of it,’ Keith said with a sigh. ‘Before she left, she was saying crazy things, like she wasn’t good enough for me. She said she couldn’t make our relationship work. And then she just took off.’
To Lucy, so familiar with the pattern of her mother’s relationships, this made a crazy kind of sense. Her mum was so used to failure that she probably couldn’t trust herself to make things work in a perfect set-up with a totally acceptable man. Sadly, her mum had probably been speaking the truth. She truly believed that she wasn’t good enough for Keith.
‘Sounds like she panicked,’ she said.
‘But why?’ Keith lifted his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘I keep asking myself what I did wrong.’
‘I’m quite sure you did nothing wrong, Keith. I’m afraid Mum’s —’ Lucy sighed. ‘She’s complicated.’
‘Well, I think she’s wonderful.’ His mouth twisted in a sad little smile. ‘I couldn’t believe my luck when I met her. After losing my wife, I had expected to spend the rest of my days as a lonely old man, and then I met Ro and she was so much fun, so easy to be with and so good with my daughters.’
His breath caught on a stifled gasp and tears shone in his eyes. ‘I didn’t expect to fall for another woman after Susan, but I fell for your mother like a stone.’
Lucy was fighting tears, too. The poor man looked so lost and bewildered, and she completely understood the pain he felt.
‘I’m so sorry this has happened,’ she said, reaching out to touch his arm. ‘I’ll try to talk to Mum tomorrow. You never know, between Harry and me, we might be able to knock some sense into —’
‘Hello? Anyone home?’ called a familiar voice.
Lucy’s jaw dropped, and so did Keith’s. It was Ro’s voice coming from within the darkened apartment. A light snapped on and then they saw her in the hall. Her curly hair was damp, as if she’d just stepped out of the shower, and she was wearing slim-fitting white slacks and a flattering lime-green tunic top. Her make-up had been carefully applied.
Her high-heeled silver sandals tapped on the tiles as she came through the living room. At the open sliding doors, she stopped and smiled nervously at Keith.
‘I was hoping you hadn’t gone out.’
He made a flustered sound of denial. ‘Lucy and I were just having takeaway curry. Would – would you like to join us?’
But Lucy was certain that her mother hadn’t come here for a meal and she was already rising from her seat. ‘I’ve had plenty to eat,’ she said. ‘And I’m dead on my feet.’
Ro accepted this with a nod, but she hadn’t taken her eyes from Keith. ‘I was hoping to talk to you,’ she told him.
Hastily, Lucy gathered up the remains of their dinner and took it through to the kitchen. If she’d seen what she thought she’d just seen – a shining and miraculous new confidence in her mother’s eyes – she would happily spend a night locked away in her room.
Lucy and Ro travelled together to Harry’s place the next morning. Lucy was feeling rather spaced out. The combination of jet lag and heartbreak had kept her awake for hours, but at least her mum and Keith seemed very happy this morning.
‘I’ve promised him we’ll make this work,’ a bubbling Ro had told Lucy almost as soon as Keith had left for the office.
‘That’s fantastic, Mum.’
‘I know. I’m so happy and relieved. I shudder to think how close I came to making a really drastic mistake.’
Lucy found herself embraced in a rare motherly hug.
‘Thank you for brin
ging those letters home, Luce.’
‘Did you enjoy them?’
‘Enjoy them? I adored them. And I showed them to Dad and we had a really good talk about – well, about everything. It was actually very special for both of us.’
‘That’s wonderful.’
‘Until I read those letters I never realised —’ Her mum’s mouth turned square as if she was struggling to smile, but needed to cry.
Lucy gave her another hug. ‘Sounds like yesterday was a really big day for you.’
‘Momentous.’ Ro gave a snuffling laugh. ‘A lot of bridge-building – with Dad and with Keith.’
‘Well done, Mum.’ Lucy resisted the urge to tell her she was proud of her, but it was the truth. The change she’d sensed in her mother last night was the kind of miracle she’d hoped for, but she’d never dared to believe it might actually happen.
‘I’m guessing that Harry won’t mind if you decide to move back in with Keith,’ she said.
‘Dad won’t mind in the least. He practically booted me out the door last night when I told him I needed to talk to Keith.’
‘Then I wonder how he’d feel about me moving in instead of you?’
‘I guess we’d better find out.’
Harry’s answer was emphatic.
‘No, definitely not. You need to be with young people, Lucy, not nursing an old codger.’
‘I wasn’t planning to nurse you,’ Lucy quipped lightly. ‘I thought I’d freeload. Take over your spare room in return for a little bit of housekeeping.’
Harry’s frown relaxed and he almost smiled. ‘Delightful as that sounds, I have another proposition you should consider first.’
The three of them were sitting in his lounge room. Ro and Lucy were sunk deep in an ancient brown velvet sofa that had lost its springs a decade or more ago. Harry was in an armchair of similar decrepitude and now, with some difficulty, he edged himself forward and picked up a manila folder from the table before him.
Setting the folder on his knee, he let his serious grey gaze shift between his daughter and granddaughter. ‘This is —’
‘Hang on a sec, Dad,’ Ro interrupted and she looked suddenly quite flushed and nervous. ‘Sorry,’ she added quickly. ‘I don’t mean to interrupt something important but, as you know, there’s stuff I said I’d tell Lucy and – and I thought while we were all here together . . .’
The Secret Years Page 31