by Kaye Dobbie
Once again she wondered what would happen if Lily, the holder of so many secrets, forgot that they were secrets? Hope tried to concentrate on what needed to be done. Her elderly mother was missing somewhere out in the dark. ‘She can’t have gone far, Joe.’
‘Sam said she was down by the creek the other day, so I think we should look there. Do you want to come?’
‘Of course I do!’
She found some walking shoes and quickly put them on while Joe waited. ‘Down by the creek’ sounded ominous, despite the current lack of water. Even if she couldn’t drown she might fall, hurt herself, get lost in the scrub that ran along the bank. She imagined her mother alone and frightened, and felt sick.
When she was ready she went to walk past him, but he took her arm to stop her.
‘I’m sorry. About before. I don’t know why I said those things.’
Hope’s smile was wane. ‘Joe, he was your brother. You’re allowed to remember him. It was just … it’s been a long time since anybody spoke about that night. I try not to …’ She shrugged, but he understood.
‘The pain never goes away, does it? It fades, but when you dig a little, there it is, still hurting.’
This time Hope managed a proper smile. ‘Exactly. It takes you by surprise.’
When they reached the door to the outside area, Hope could see the light of torches beyond the enclosed barbecue area and verandah.
‘I miss Faith,’ Joe said, his voice heavy and quiet.
She turned to look at him. ‘I wish you’d tell me who she’s gone to see, Joe. I think you know, don’t you?’
‘After she went to Melbourne in sixty-nine, I used to drive by her place in St Kilda, just in case I saw her. It was risky because if she spotted me, well you can imagine what she’d have to say. Sometimes I’d drop in at her place, pretend I was passing. At first it was okay, but then she started avoiding me.’
‘Why was she avoiding you?’
‘Because there was someone else.’
‘Who?’ she demanded, thinking, Was it Dalzell after all? Was Samantha right about that? ‘Did she ever tell you?’
‘I never met him.’ He waited for her to walk out of the door, not meeting her eyes. ‘I wanted to pick her up and take her home with me, but I knew if I suggested it I’d only push her further away. I had to let her go, and pray that in the end she’d choose me.’
Faith had been a mess when she’d returned to Willow Tree Bend, but she hadn’t shared her troubles with her sister. It had been an awful Christmas, with Faith locked in her room, and Pete knowing he only had a month before he had to start Nasho training. Hope felt a spurt of anger towards her sister. Who was this other man? How could she put them through this? She’d been happily married to Joe for thirty years and then this other man had come back into her life, and Faith had been unable to resist him.
‘After we were married,’ Joe said, ‘I could have talked to her about him. A couple of times she made the offer, but I chose not to. No, that’s not right. I didn’t want to, Hope. We were happy and I was looking to the future and it seemed unnecessarily reckless to stir up the past.’ And then he shook his head, as if to erase the memory. ‘She’ll be back. I have to hang on to that.’
Sam’s Christmas lanterns were still throwing their coloured lights around the back deck, and the food on the table, that Hope had spent so much time getting ready, remained mostly uneaten. This was supposed to be a celebration, a getting together of the only family she had, and instead it was turning into a nightmare.
She noticed Sam standing close to Lincoln. He was speaking to her softly, maybe offering reassurance, and Hope thought they looked quite at home together. And then Sam glanced up, her eyes wide and anxious, and hurried across. She was talking before she reached them.
‘The gate from the backyard to the paddock is open. She must have gone that way. Down to the creek. Mitch is gone too, so he must be with her. At least that’s one good thing. If I call he should come, or bark if he can’t leave her.’
‘Perhaps she’s just gone for a walk,’ Hope suggested.
‘A walk in the dark?’ Sam retorted.
Hope realised how silly it sounded. True, Lily was reasonably fit and didn’t need the aid of a walking stick or frame, but what about her mind? Was there more going on than ageing? Putting salt into your biscuit mix instead of sugar wasn’t a crime, and in a younger person you could laugh and call it a momentary lapse of concentration. And yet it bothered Hope.
‘I think we should split up.’ Sam was organising them into two groups—herself and Joe, Hope and Lincoln—and then they set off through the gate and out into the paddock. Sam was calling for Mitch, but they couldn’t hear him.
Hope called at intervals, while Lincoln swept the light around them, trying to see anything that might possibly be an old woman. He was concentrating on the ground, and she thought they must both be thinking the same thing—that Lily had fallen and was unable to respond. The beam caught a fox hurrying along on its own sly business, and then an owl swooped on some unlucky creature, carrying its dinner off to the trees by the creek.
Hope wondered if this was all her fault. Her mother had told her how she was feeling, that the past was weighing on her so heavily she could hardly bear it, and yet she had done nothing. After all these years Hope was still trying to protect a dead man.
The warm darkness swirled around her and with it the astringent scent of eucalyptus. Beneath her feet the earth was stony and hard, and her breath quickened with her heartbeat.
And then there it was, in her mind, the black car with its shiny chrome headlamps, slipping through that long-ago January day. Dalzell. Samantha had said she was working on the garden at the old Dalzell house, and that it was going to be a restaurant now. People would come and eat there, enjoy themselves, wander into the garden and smell the roses.
She shivered.
Was it still the same? Last night she’d dreamed again about the garden, that big sweep of lawn that against all the odds Dalzell, or more likely his minions, kept alive. The grass was soft under bare feet as you walked towards the old sprawling rosebush. Green leaves and the frothy creamy yellow flowers, and the sweet fresh rose scent.
‘What are we going to do!’ She’d cried, the blood pounding in her ears, her breathing ragged, and her voice not like hers at all.
And then Pete. ‘It’ll be all right. I’ll make it all right.’
She remembered thinking that they were so young, and it wasn’t fair that this had happened. That the rest of their lives could turn on this single event. But then Pete wrapped his arms around her, and she’d told herself it would be all right. That Pete really could make it so.
‘Hope?’
Lincoln was looking at her as if he’d called more than once. In the beam of the torch his face looked bleached of colour.
She really had to pull herself together. She couldn’t disappear into the past when she was needed here in the present. It occurred to her that her mother wasn’t the only Taylor woman who might be going crazy.
‘Sorry, I was … Have you found her?’
‘No, but I heard a dog barking, and then Sam called out. That way.’
Hope looked in the direction he was pointing, towards an area closer to the creek. There was a swathe of light, as if a torch was moving, but she couldn’t see what they were looking at. What had happened to the stars? She looked up and saw that the sky was clouding over.
Lincoln was waiting with a degree of patience she had to admire. Many other men would be jumping up and down by now and telling her to get a move on.
‘All right. Lead on, MacDuff.’
And he did just that, walking slowly and carefully at her side, probably thinking she was old and infirm, or she’d lost her marbles. Then she reminded herself that he seemed like a very nice man and perhaps he was just being kind.
Ahead Sam and Joe, at first mere silhouettes backlit by a torch beam, began to take shape and form. Hope could see that there was
someone sitting in front of them on a convenient log, and Mitch was beside them.
‘Mum?’
Hope started forward and her mother looked up. The shadows had filled in her eye sockets and etched the wrinkles deeper in her cheeks, and her hair was matted and tangled on one side, as if she’d been picked up from a fall.
‘Hope?’
‘Are you all right?’ She knelt down as she spoke, reaching to take the hand her mother held out to her. It was icy despite the balmy night. Her other hand was tucked in against her waist, and she was holding herself stiffly, as if she was in pain. Feeling a stickiness against her fingers, Hope noticed scratches on Lily’s palm and wrist.
‘She fell over,’ said Sam. ‘She says she knocked herself out for a little while, and I think she might have broken her arm. We need to get her to the hospital so they can check her out.’
Old people have brittle bones.
‘Mum? What on earth were you thinking, coming down here alone in the dark?’ Despite herself her voice sounded angry. She tried to be calm. ‘Where were you going?’ she added, more evenly.
Lily was staring back at her and for a moment it didn’t seem as if she was going to answer, and then she did, her voice trembling. ‘I’m going to hell.’
Hope’s heart gave a savage thud.
‘Lily, you’re the last person I can imagine in hell!’ Joe sounded shocked. ‘You’ve got a gold pass straight to the pearly gates.’
‘Gran, can you walk?’ Sam leaned towards Lily, gaining her attention. ‘Can you walk back to the house or do you want me to bring down the ute?’
Thank God Samantha was here, Hope thought. The girl was so practical, and now she was taking charge. Just like Faith would have done if she was here.
Lily turned back and forth between them, obviously confused. ‘I can walk,’ she announced, but when they tried to help her to stand up she cried out and sat down again. ‘I feel dizzy,’ she said, ‘and my arm hurts.’
Hope watched as Sam lifted the sleeve on Lily’s blouse, while Lincoln held the torch. It wasn’t pleasant. Lily’s forearm was swollen and bent at an angle that didn’t look right at all. They needed to get her to hospital as soon as possible.
Sam straightened and wiped her palms on her skirt. The air was stirring, warm and humid, as if it might be going to rain. She looked up at the sky and sighed, and it was as if Hope could read her thoughts. Everyone had been praying for rain for months and months, and now that it was threatening Sam was wishing it away. At least until Lily was safe.
‘Gran?’ Sam touched the elderly woman gently on the shoulder. ‘I won’t be long.’ A glance to Hope and her father, and she was gone, moving swiftly back towards her house, Mitch at her heels.
‘I’ll come with you!’ Lincoln started after her at a run, and Hope, Joe and Lily were alone.
Hope sat down beside her mother on the log, gently stroking her uninjured hand. ‘Don’t worry. They won’t be long. I wish I had some water,’ she added to herself. ‘You must be thirsty.’
‘Faith?’ Lily murmured, peering at her in the light from Joe’s torch, which he’d set down on the ground at their feet.
Hope tried not to be worried. Lily was hurt, possibly in shock, and it was normal to be confused in the circumstances. ‘It’s Hope, Mum. Your other daughter.’
‘Hope ran away to America,’ Lily said matter-of-factly. ‘She ran away and I’m going to hell.’
Guilt and dismay rippled through her, and briefly Hope closed her eyes. When she opened them she glanced up at Joe, who was still standing on Lily’s other side, and tried to gauge his reaction. He seemed to be busy looking in the direction of the others.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘This is my fault and I’ll put it right as soon as I can. I promise.’
She didn’t know if her mother heard her or not. She didn’t give any sign, simply staring off into the distance as the glow of Sam’s flashlight grew fainter.
Another gust of wind stirred the air and she could really smell the rain now, although none was falling. A rumble sounded in the distance. Great, she thought wryly, not just rain but lightning and thunder, too.
‘Why did you leave the party, Mum?’ she asked softly, leaning closer. ‘Weren’t you enjoying yourself?’
Her mother smelled of Joy, and Hope wondered if it was the same perfume bottle she had bought her years ago. It would be just like Lily to eke it out, using it only on very special occasions. And that she should consider Hope’s barbecue a special occasion was both touching and painful.
‘I wanted to see the cottage,’ her mother chided, as if the answer should be obvious. ‘I haven’t seen it for so long.’
‘But you were there the other day, remember? With me and the others? For the show I’m filming?’
Had she really forgotten? The shock of the fall perhaps.
‘Oh. Yes, of course,’ Lily murmured, her eyes closing. ‘I’d forgotten. I’m very tired, Hope. I haven’t been sleeping. I keep thinking about …’ Her voice trailed off.
Hope peered anxiously into her face. Lily had slumped against her and instantly she thought Lily had lost consciousness, or worse, but then she realised her mother was taking a nap.
‘I can hear the ute,’ Joe said, and now Hope could hear it, too. The rumble of the engine and the bright headlights were drawing closer as the vehicle made its way over the uneven ground towards them. Thunder growled again, and it seemed closer.
‘Over here!’ Joe called, and lifted his torch, waving back and forth so Sam could see them.
Lily woke up with a start. ‘My arm,’ she groaned.
‘It’s all right, Mum. They’re nearly here. Won’t be long.’
The ute came to a halt, and Lincoln and Sam jumped out. ‘Come on, Gran,’ Sam said. ‘Let’s get you back to the house so we can get a proper look at you.’
This time they didn’t ask Lily to walk; Joe lifted her in his arms. ‘Okay?’ he asked her, as she blinked up at him. ‘You’re as light as a feather, Lily.’
She giggled, and Hope bit her lip on her own reaction. Laughter or tears, she wasn’t sure.
Joe carried her slowly and carefully to the vehicle, and they eased her into the passenger seat, using the cushions Sam had thought to bring to make her comfortable. It was clear Lily was in a lot of pain, but she didn’t make a sound. Hope thought she might have fallen asleep again, tucked up with a woollen blanket covering her, and went to close the door.
That was when Lily looked up at her, her face pale and drawn in the interior light. Her voice was as firm and determined as it had ever been. ‘I’m going to hell, but it’s all right. I’ve made my choice.’
‘Oh, Mum,’ Hope gasped, a lump forming in her throat. ‘Of course you’re not going to hell.’
A short time later Sam was at the wheel, carefully turning the vehicle around and then heading back towards her house.
Hope stood staring after the fading red tail-lights, barely aware of the approaching storm, or the voices of the others. Perhaps she really was going crazy, she and Lily, because the hairs had lifted on the back of her neck, and just for an instant, she thought she heard a whisper.
A voice from the past. Pete’s voice.
It’ll be all right. You’re safe, Hope. I promise I’ll look after you.
So many promises. Only it wasn’t safe, not any longer, and all at once Hope was looking bleakly into a future that she had never imagined she would have to face.
FAITH
September 1969, St Kilda
The police station was built of red brick, and the hand rail felt greasy as Faith climbed the stairs to the public entrance. At the desk she asked for Detective Inspector Avery, and received some scrutiny from the uniformed officer behind it. He told her she’d have to wait. There were a couple of others also waiting—one man who was obviously very drunk and a woman with a bruised eye and a dog.
It was morning, and early for Faith, but she’d decided early was better than after work. She’d be
en prepared to come back later if necessary, but now it seemed there was no need. She’d hardly slept last night, and she knew she wouldn’t sleep again tonight if she didn’t get this over with.
The wait seemed to take forever, and to pass the time Faith examined the notices on a board attached to a grubby white wall. Mug shots of the missing and wanted, and those in between. Underneath her coat she was wearing a black skirt with her white sweater, and every time she turned around the drunk was staring at her legs. He kept trying to strike up a conversation, despite her ignoring him, and she was relieved when the officer told him to ‘pipe down, mate’.
And then Avery appeared.
He stood by the desk, leaning over to talk to his colleague, who nodded towards her. Avery obviously recognised her. He was wearing his grey suit, or maybe he had several of them, and as he came over to where she was standing she found herself examining his face.
He looked older, the lines etched deeper, and the pouches more pronounced beneath his eyes. His skin still had that unhealthy tinge of grey, and she remembered him saying he was retiring at the end of the year. Maybe he didn’t have a choice.
It wasn’t her business.
Avery reached her and stood a moment, just looking at her, and there was a certain amount of satisfaction in his face.
‘I’ll buy you a coffee,’ he said. ‘It’s just around the corner,’ he added, when she gave him a doubtful look.
She followed him out the door, where he paused to light a cigarette, tossing the spent match on the footpath. He seemed in an expansive mood.
‘I was down in Russell Street until a few months ago,’ he said, referring to the police headquarters. ‘When I said I was retiring they dumped me out here. Hoped I wouldn’t cause any more trouble.’ He showed her his teeth in what might have been a smile, and which seemed to suggest he was planning to cause plenty of trouble.
‘It’ was a narrow cafe jammed in between a pawn broker and a betting shop. There was barely enough room for the tables and chairs let alone customers, but it didn’t matter anyway because Avery led her straight to a door at the back, and through to where there was a private room with a fireplace.