And that was the end of their daughter’s story.
‘Derek said Chloe never knew about us. Apparently Sylvia hadn’t wanted Chloe to know she was adopted. She loved her so much she didn’t want to tell her she wasn’t her birth mother. Selfish, yes, but understandable really. At least she left a letter explaining it all to Derek after her death. Sylvia wrote Chloe a letter too, about her real birth story, and left it with the bracelet. Derek only found the bracelet and letter after Chloe had moved out, and he sent them on to her, hoping it might give her a reason to turn her life around. To come find you.’
How wonderful that would have been, Julia thought.
‘But Lauren got hold of them first, and it seems Chloe never knew the truth about you.’
The pain of Lauren’s betrayal of them both, she and Chloe, threatened to overwhelm her all over again. Only the thought that Chloe had been loved by her mothers – both of them – held it in check.
She felt Rick move before she realised what he was doing. Then his beautiful long fingers were curling around hers. Offering comfort, understanding … love.
‘Derek said if you’d like to go see him, he’ll show you all the photo albums. There are a lot of them apparently. And you can see Chloe’s room too. It’s like a shrine.’
It was a few minutes before Julia could say, ‘I’d like that.’
Death was so final; you didn’t always get a chance to put things right. But life went on. Moving forwards, never back. Their daughter would never be forgotten. Julia would picture her forever as a shining, sparkling, vibrant star in the sky.
Epilogue
‘Like it?’ asked Charlie quietly.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Julia said.
And it was. It had taken Charlie over six months to build in his spare time. Now, a new garden bed edged with local rock graced the lawn of her cottage cum cafe at Lake Hill. It was large and circular, and in the centre clustered a swathe of rose bushes sporting bunches of late-flowering sweet pink blooms. Massed around them were lavender bushes with waving fronds of tiny petals.
‘The rose is called Chloe,’ Charlie said. ‘The lavender is Little Lottie. I hope you don’t mind?’ His voice broke.
Julia gripped his arm. ‘I love it.’
They both stood there a while; Julia gazing at the memorial garden, Charlie up at the sky. Julia wondered if he was talking to Lottie.
Suddenly he grabbed her arm and pointed high up in the gum tree. ‘Our new garden has a spy.’
Julia’s eyes took a while to adjust to the colours of the trunk, but eventually she saw it. A metre-long lizard – no, a goanna.
They both stared in wonder at the large reptile.
‘Lottie would’ve adored that,’ murmured Charlie. ‘She loved all the native wildlife.’
Julia toyed with the bracelet around her wrist. She wondered if her daughter had loved the bush and its animals too. Aching loss came in waves as she remembered all over again that she’d never know.
She clutched at her belly, barely rounded. Tendrils of joy, tiny but sweet, wove their way amongst her sorrow. She reached for them, not realising in her preoccupation that Charlie had wandered off and Rick had taken his place, until he took her palm in his. She gazed down at that big sculptor-cum-farmer’s hand, turned it over to trace the calluses and rough skin, and moved it up to place it on her belly. Covered his long fingers with her other hand and held them there firmly but gently. She felt his eyes on her, the love, the still-apparent delight her news had brought.
Small steps. Baby steps, she thought. But steps all the same.
Later, Rick and Julia stood together in Lake Hill Cafe’s grounds, just beyond Charlie’s memorial garden and facing the stunning lake itself. Rick readied himself to pull the tarp off his latest creation. He had wanted Julia to see it before it went on public display, to be sure she didn’t mind the town and visitors alike knowing so much about their life, their love, their history.
‘Ready?’
In the ensuing silence, she took a deep breath and, finally, she nodded.
He pulled away the tarp.
And there she was, lying on the sandy beach at Boole Poole so many years ago, Rick beside her. But the figures in this piece were older; they looked in their thirties rather than their teens. Above them, bluebirds spiralled and soared. And in the space between them were two children. Perfect and beloved. She turned and gazed up at their father.
The love of her life.
And smiled.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Over the time I was writing this book, five beautiful people were lost – four of them taken far too early. They meant an enormous amount to us all and I would like to mention them here:
Michelle Robins
Matthew Williams
Cheryle Nielsen
Macey Parker Read
and
Margaret Caffrey
Remembered with love
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
As usual, there is a plethora of people to thank. The last two years have been particularly challenging so it is with exceptional gratitude that I write these acknowledgements.
First, to my publisher, Beverley Cousins – thank you for your belief in this story, the skilful editing, and most of all for your understanding throughout the often disrupted process. Big thanks also to the rest of the Random House team, particularly Catherine Hill and Tamika Wood, along with the rights, sales and marketing teams, and fabulous reps who work so hard to get my books into the hands of readers. Thank you, once again, Nicola O’Shea, my editor extraordinaire – huge recognition for your expert fine-tuning, attention to detail and advice.
To my agent and mentor, Sheila Drummond – thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your work on my behalf. To Karen Chisholm and Adam Donnison – you are my saviours.
To every bookstore and library in Australia and New Zealand, I would like to express my gratitude; particular thanks to the wonderful booksellers of Gippsland (especially Liz and Trevor Watt, Elaine Medhurst, and Andrea, Mark and Jesse Kinsmith), who have been endlessly supportive and call me their own.
Thanks to Kevin and Tanya Read who, after their very kind donation to the Little Jem Foundation (www.littlejem.org.au), chose to assign their daughter Montana’s name to a character in this story. (The Little Jem Foundation was created by the inspiring Mat and Amy Daly to provide assistance to families who experience the loss of a baby or young child.)
Huge appreciation to the fabulous Cathy Theodore and staff of Café 3847 & Co; to the incredibly talented Chris and Dawn Stubbs; to Jimmy and Carol Dean; and to Carol and Barrie Bradshaw. Also thanks to Andrew Miles, Robert Johnson, Stephen Wadey, Marion Kelly, Jim and Kaye Lay, Amy Shimm Noveshen; and Tanya Read, Anne Williams and Cheryl Veal for sharing their thoughts and advice at various times. Also, a special shout-out to Doctor Jonathon Ruddle for his excellent care.
To our beautiful neighbour and friend Kathy Luxford Carr (and Doc), thank you for the cups of tea, wine and art. To Pat and Denise Hint on, for the use of your cove, lake view, and a little inspiration; and to my talented cousin Nola Hodge, for home.
Sincere appreciation, love and hugs to Aticia Grey (Pilbara Working Dogs) and Courtney Robinson (Killili Working Dog Stud), two gorgeous and extremely talented young friends who shared with me their love of working dogs. Beautiful Aticia – thanks for my kelpie, Ange, whom I adore. Gratitude also for the incredible opportunity my family had.
To the fantastic and knowledgeable Neil and Helen McDonald for answering copious questions, and for the working dog training and advice. A shout-out also to Ewe, Me and the Dog, along with the fabulous Joe Spicer, who taught me a great deal too.
To my gorgeous friends who always have my back – you know who you are – for the chats, cups of tea and brainstorming: they get me through a book. In particular to Pammy and Glenda, who, at a moment’s notice read drafts of my books; along with Emma, Jenny, Kenielle, Andrea and Kate, who cope with my authorly hysterics; and Sandra, who make
s me look good. Add to this the ongoing support of the fabulous Little Lonsdale Writing Group (particularly Kate Belle, Kathryn Ledson and Jennifer Scoullar) and I know I’m one lucky girl.
Once again, huge kudos to my family – both sides. To the Kerbys – what a wonderful bunch to call my own, particularly to Anne and Ken for being so strong and beautiful. To the Osborns – Dad and Pat, massive appreciation for all you do on the farm and at home (Dad, I know you literally drop everything to read book drafts). To my sister, Kerry, and brother, Paul – I’d be lost without you both – along with your beautiful families. And to Uncle Graeme and Doreen, your love and help are so appreciated.
To my husband, Hugh: what a man to have at my side. Thanks, hon, for everything. To our gutsy world traveller, Brent – keep wandering but make sure you eventually come home, mate; to our farm boy, Callan – keep farming, driving, riding, shooting, skiing, and making me awesome cups of tea; to our princess, Katie – keep laughing, swimming, dancing, skiing, riding and using your smile to light up our lives.
Margareta Osborn is a fifth-generation farmer, and a wife, mother and lover of all things country, who has lived and worked on the land all her life. She holds a Diploma of Conservation and Land Management specialising in Community Coordination and Facilitation. Home is a beef property overlooking a beautiful lake in the Gippsland high country, where she lives with her husband and three children.
She is also the author of Bella’s Run – a No. 1 bestseller – Hope’s Road, Mountain Ash and Rose River.
Visit www.margaretaosborn.com.au
Margareta Osborn
@margaretaosborn
margaretaosborn
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including printing, photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Penguin Random House Australia. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Version 1.0
Lake Hill
First published by Bantam in 2017
Copyright © Margareta Osborn, 2017
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
A Bantam book
Published by Penguin Random House Australia Pty Ltd
Level 3, 100 Pacific Highway, North Sydney NSW 2060
www.penguin.com.au
Addresses for the Penguin Random House group of companies can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com/offices.
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication entry
Osborn, Margareta, author
Lake Hill / Margareta Osborn
ISBN: 978 085798 646 7 (ebook)
Romance fiction, Australian
Lakes Entrance (Vic.)–Fiction
Cover photographs courtesy of Getty Images: man on truck by David Reede;
Aberdeen Angus beef cattle by Australian Scenics; woman smiling indoors by James Darell
Cover design by Christabella Designs
Ebook by Firstsource
Lake Hill Page 27