Crimson Dawn

by Fleur McDonald

  Laura shook herself, trying to forget the disbelief and emptiness she’d felt during those first days after Papa died. The loneliness and sadness later. They could still ambush her after all this time.

  Her unanswered questions about Howie’s last words haunted her too, and was another reason why she couldn’t ignore Meghan’s threat entirely. But Meghan and Josh were Hunters, not Murphys. How there could be a link?

  Laura went into the kitchen, took a bottle of wine out of the fridge and poured herself a large glass. Taking a slug, she checked the roast then pulled one potato from the pantry, cutting it in half then throwing it in the slow cooker.

  She wanted to ring Catherine, but her friend had left for the States just after the Adelaide Show. She’d be gone for two months. Catherine wanted to learn about their agricultural industry and return with information that would benefit Australia. Laura wished her all the luck in the world, but knew she’d miss her terribly. Maybe Rusty would come in tonight. It would be nice to have another living thing beside her, even if it was only a grumpy old cat.

  Distracted by loud laughter, she went to the window and looked towards the quarters where the students lived. Will Scott’s ute was parked out the front.

  As she watched, the door to the hut flew open and Will ran outside with Robyn over his shoulder. She was squealing and laughing at the same time. He gently draped her onto the bonnet of his car and kissed her quickly.

  Tegan ran out and pretended to tug Will from Robyn, and two of Will’s friends followed. All five were laughing. Allie came out with beer. Will went to the other end of the ute and opened the tailgate, where he and Robyn sat, his arm around her. The others stood around with beers in their hands and talked.

  Laura couldn’t help but smile wistfully. She and Josh had had that once. The same fun-loving, carefree relationship. But it had ended so suddenly and irrevocably. She couldn’t forgive him for not trusting her and, well—she had no idea what he thought now. What’s more, she didn’t care. She’d sworn off men, off love, forever. Perhaps she was too cynical, but after everything that had happened with Josh she couldn’t change. That’s just the way it was.

  As she watched out the window, she saw Allie slip around the side of the students’ cabin and take something from her pocket. Then she put a hand to her mouth and leaned her head back against the cement as if suddenly relaxed to be away from the others. Laura wondered whether the girl was feeling as forlorn as she was. Always hard to be the third wheel, she thought.

  She turned back from the window, pushing aside the loneliness that had engulfed her, and took another large sip of wine. From the office came a strange bleep. For a moment, she had no idea what it was. Then, realising it was the sound of Skype, she ran towards the computer, trying not to spill the wine.

  ‘Hello? Hello, Nicki?’ She grabbed the mouse and clicked on the icon that said ‘Answer’, hoping she’d got there in time to talk to the only person who ever Skyped her. ‘Nicki?’ She grinned as her sister’s face appeared on the screen.

  ‘Laurs! How are you, sis?’

  ‘Nick! It’s so good to see your face! How are you? How’s it all going?’ She set down her wine glass and reached over to pull out her office chair.

  Her half-sister was staring at the screen, her brow wrinkled. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked. ‘I can only see your boobs!’

  Laura laughed and sat down, a huge grin on her face. ‘Sorry, I was out in the kitchen. I’m sitting down now. You won’t have a bad view anymore. How’s London?’

  ‘Oh, Laurs, you wouldn’t believe it. I’m in Paris! Paris!’ Laura’s eyes widened. Nicki had been attending a prestigious music school in London, but Laura had no idea she’d moved on.

  ‘You’re in Paris? How come?’

  ‘Only for a few days. A couple of friends and I just popped over for a break. To sightsee and things like that. You can do that here. Everything is so close!’ She grinned and shrugged.

  ‘“Just popped over”,’ Laura teased. ‘So tell me everything. How’s school? Are you learning lots? Sung on any famous stages yet?’

  Nicki laughed. ‘No. No famous stages yet, but I’m learning so much. Not only to do with music, but culture, art. Everything. I’m loving it.’

  Laura fingered her glass while Nicki talked about her life abroad. She’d been gone for a year and a half, and Georgie had said in her last phone call that she suspected the only time Nicki would return now would be for holidays.

  ‘So what’s happening over there? On Nambina?’ Nicki finally asked.

  ‘Nothing as exciting as what you’re doing! I’m exhausted trying to keep up with you!’ She took a sip of wine, wondering whether to tell Nicki about Random.

  ‘Mum said you took a team to the show?’ Nicki prompted.

  ‘Yeah, we did. Didn’t go too well.’ Laura shrugged.

  ‘Yeah, she said that too. What a bummer.’

  ‘These things happen.’

  There was a silence.

  ‘Have you seen Josh or Meghan lately?’

  Laura frowned. ‘No,’ she answered shortly. Then paused. ‘Well, actually, I saw them both at the Adelaide Show a couple of weeks ago. We sort of acknowledged each other and that was about it.’ She wasn’t going to tell her sister about the threats Meghan had made. It would worry her, being so far away.

  Nicki shook her head. ‘You know . . .’

  ‘You’re beginning to sound like a broken record,’ Laura interrupted. ‘This is an old and tired conversation.’

  ‘And I’m about to repeat it all over again,’ Nicki said firmly. ‘You gotta face this at some stage, Laura. Got to get over this rubbish and move on. I’m calling you at six o’clock on a Monday night. Your face is filthy, you’re still in your work clothes and I bet you have no intention of going out. Come on, Laura! You can’t just hide away on Nambina because of one horrible experience. You’ve got to get out, go dancing, have fun. Don’t you miss their company? They were both part of your life! You didn’t just lose a boyfriend, but a girlfriend as well. I’d be so sad if one of my mates didn’t talk to me for years.’

  ‘This is exactly where I should be on a Monday night!’ Laura exclaimed. ‘We farmers don’t party every night of the week, unlike you muso-creative types, who only seem to come to life after the sun sets! And I’d like to know where I could possibly go dancing in town during the week. That’s laughable! Anyway, who’s the older and younger sister here?’ Nicki had never been told about the scathing accusations Meghan and Josh had hurled at Laura that night. There was no possible way Nicki could understand her disappointment and rage.

  ‘Doesn’t matter if I’m younger. I know I’m right.’ Nicki sat back and crossed her arms. ‘I bet you haven’t even got a date on the horizon. Still sworn off men?’

  ‘Actually I do have a date. So there.’ Laura poked out her tongue childishly.

  ‘Do what?’ Nicki leaned forward again, eyes bright with anticipation. ‘A date? With who?’

  ‘Do you remember Tim, the local vet?’

  ‘No-o-o-o.’

  ‘Tim Burns. He’s a vet.’ Laura spoke in a slow voice, like she was explaining something to a child. ‘We’re going to a fundraiser next week. Together. Sort of like an oldies’ B and S. Guess what it’s called?’ She didn’t think it was a good idea to tell Nicki she was meeting Tim at the golf club. She had a sneaking suspicion her sister wouldn’t class that as a date at all.

  ‘I can’t imagine.’

  ‘The Baggy and Saggy.’

  Laura saw her sister’s eyes slip away, but a huge smile spread across her face. ‘I’ll be there in a moment. Give me five!’ Nicki yelled to someone off screen. Turning back to the camera, she said, ‘That’s hilarious!’

  ‘Are you going out?’ Laura asked. She was peevishly annoyed with the idea of Nicki partying in Paris.

  ‘Yep. We’re going to climb the Eiffel Tower and then go and see the Arc de Triomphe. Got to make the most of the time we’ve got.’

  �
��Who are you going with?’

  Nicki rattled off three names that meant nothing to Laura. ‘Well,’ she said, with a small smile, ‘have heaps of fun and take loads of photos. I’ll want to see them when you come home.’

  ‘I’ll put them up on Facebook, so you can see them as soon as we’ve done it.’

  ‘Ah, yeah. Facebook.’ Laura remembered the account she had opened but rarely looked at.

  ‘Yes, sister, dear, Facebook. Check it out. You might find it useful.’ Nicki paused. ‘Before I go, have you heard from Poppy lately?’

  ‘Poppy? Why would she call me? She barely speaks to me when we’re in the same room.’

  ‘Something’s going on with her. Not sure what it is . . . Okay, I’m coming!’ she called over her shoulder before turning back to the screen. ‘Sorry, gotta go. Try to call Poppy, okay?’

  ‘Okay. If you think I should.’

  ‘I do. Love you! Bye!’

  ‘Love you,’ Laura responded, but the screen had gone blank and she knew Nicki hadn’t heard her.

  Back out in the kitchen, Laura refilled her wine glass and switched on the TV. She checked the roast and turned off the cooker. With the newsreader for company, she peeled the rest of the vegetables and put them in the microwave. Deciding she couldn’t be bothered making gravy, she sliced off a few pieces of meat and threw them onto a plate. When the vegies were done she arranged them on the plate with as much finesse as she had the meat. Finding her glass empty again, she replenished it before carrying it over to the table with her plate.

  She looked critically at the setting. The table didn’t even have a cloth covering it. Just bare wood with salt and pepper shakers, a bottle of Worcestershire sauce and a cutlery container sitting in the middle. She glanced around the room and saw nothing but evidence of a lonely existence.

  If she’d had the baby, her fridge would have been covered in hand-drawn pictures. There’d be photos of her with Josh and the child, who’d be seven now. There’d be toys on the floor, homework on the kitchen table and reading books on the lounge. There’d be noise, bustle and activity, not this still, silent house she lived in.

  Her phone beeped with a text and she grabbed it. Nicki.

  ‘Play basketball again,’ it read, and the words were followed by a row of Xs.

  ‘You’re a crazy lady,’ Laura said out loud. ‘Basketball? I couldn’t run one hundred metres, let alone play a game of basketball.’

  But it got her thinking as she ate her dinner. Maybe she did need to get out a little more. She’d played basketball at school, been good at it too. And eight years ago, she had been on every agricultural committee there was. Eight years ago, she’d been poised to become a successful agri-lobbyist. She’d had drive and a vision.

  And in one moment it had all been snatched away.

  Not only had Meghan turned her back on her friend, she’d turned Josh against her too. Her ex-friend’s hatred had never faded over the years. In fact it had become more and more pronounced.

  Would it ever be over? Would she ever be free of Meghan’s loathing? Would she ever be free of the sadness she felt at her own loss?

  Josh certainly hadn’t stood still when it came to women. It seemed he always had one on his arm. They never lasted long, but they were there, although she noted he’d been alone at the show.

  Then there was Meghan. Why hadn’t she married? Laura guessed it was because she couldn’t have children. Knowing Meghan, she wouldn’t put herself in a situation that would cause her any heartache. She was too selfish.

  And now Meghan was making threats of a kind Laura could never have foreseen. What had become of the three of them, she wondered. How could it have all gone so wrong?

  She reached for the wine. Emptying the bottle into her glass, she drank the last of it.

  Chapter 19

  1939

  Thomas straightened his tie and pulled at his collar. He was uncomfortable but Mac had taught him that clothes maketh the man, so he was making an effort.

  He felt butterflies in his stomach as he checked the empty road for the bus once more. He glanced at his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. The bus was late. He hadn’t missed it, because he’d been waiting at the designated stop for half an hour before it was due.

  Thomas kicked at the dirt with his toe then quickly bent down to clean away the dust. The boots had cost him two weeks’ pay and he wasn’t going to ruin them. With his handkerchief he rubbed until the shine returned and he could see the blurry reflection of his face.

  At last he heard the distant sound of a vehicle and saw a rising cloud of dust. He relaxed. It was here.

  Thomas dug into his pocket for the fare and picked up the battered suitcase he’d borrowed from Mac.

  The bus pulled to a halt and the doors creaked open. ‘Gawd Almighty,’ the driver said to Thomas by way of greeting. ‘I swear this bus will rattle to pieces by the time we cross the border.’ He mopped his brow. ‘Where’re you going?’

  ‘Portland,’ Thomas answered.

  The driver quoted a price and Thomas handed over the money.

  ‘Throw your suitcase on the rack above and take a seat, young man. I’ll see if I can get you there without this pile of rubbish falling apart.’

  Thomas nodded and made his way down the narrow aisle, acknowledging the few other passengers as he went.

  Finding a seat by himself, he sat and stared out of a window that was so dirty he could barely see the landscape. He pulled his shirt sleeve down and rubbed at the glass, but it made little difference. He settled back, closed his eyes and thought again of how he’d come to be there. He could see the grinning face of the steward from the show, John Banks, as he excitedly told Mac and Thomas how he thought he knew Thomas.

  It was the third time he had attended the Adelaide Show with Mac and, each time, John had insisted he knew Thomas’s face.

  ‘You’re related to the Granges from Victoria, aren’t you?’ John had asked as if he was in the presence of royalty. ‘I know you are. That’s why I thought I knew you, see? You look just like Mr Grange. I just couldn’t shake the feeling and now it’s finally come to me. You’ve got to be related.’

  Thomas had let out a rare laugh at the man’s excitement before shaking his head.

  ‘I don’t even know who they are,’ he answered, but he noticed Mac turning to study him more closely.

  ‘Surely, Mac?’ John had looked to Mac for confirmation. ‘Can’t you see it? Anyway, if you’re not related, I’ll eat my hat. Go and check the photos on the wall. Mr Grange won the Grand Champion in 1929. I never forget a face.’ He’d nodded towards the line-up of black and white photos of previous winners and left them to it.

  That had been the last Thomas had expected to hear of it. But a couple of months later, Mac had handed him a letter. Thomas had grabbed it, hoping it was from Elizabeth—they had started up a friendship and Mac had been helping him improve his writing skills so he could correspond with her. Instead it was an unfamiliar hand with news that had shaken him.

  Dear Mr McDougall,

  I must say your letter has caused mixed emotions for my wife and me. We are pleased to know our daughter’s son, Thomas, is fit and well and in your care, but we have to admit we were unaware and shocked that he had left his home of Nambina under such circumstances.

  Unfortunately, we haven’t had much communication from the family since our daughter left here to marry Ernest Murphy.

  If Thomas wishes to come visit us, we would be very happy to have him stay for as long as he liked. If he is, as you say, handy with wool and is quick to learn, he will fit into our lives very well.

  My wife is very keen to talk to young Thomas and find out what has become of his younger brother, Howard.

  I guess it was fate that, when Thomas needed a ride, it was you who was passing, Mr McDougall. Life, as they say, is full of twists and turns we least expect.

  We thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

  There was a heavily indented
scrawl of a signature at the bottom of the page.

  Thomas had spent a long time reading and re-reading the letter before folding it carefully and putting it in his pocket.

  ‘How did you know?’ Thomas asked Mac. His mentor was standing in the backyard, smoke curling from his cigarette.

  Mac took a long drag on his cigarette before answering. ‘I got to thinking about John’s observations,’ he said finally. ‘I know your grandfather—William—and his wife, Dorothy. I’ve classed there. Only once mind, but I have been to their farm. It’s in Portland, down the bottom part of Victoria,’ he said when Thomas looked at him questioningly. ‘They brought rams to the Adelaide Show once and swept the board clean. Won practically every category there was to win. But they never came back. “Quit while you’re on top,” was William’s response when John asked him if he’d return the next year.’ He took another drag from his cigarette and finally turned to face Thomas.

  ‘I looked at the photos and I knew John was right. There was a definite resemblance to William. When I picked you up on the road that night, I knew there was something familiar about you, but I dismissed it. I couldn’t think why I would know a ragamuffin with a black eye. Or cheek, as it was.’ He looked over at Thomas with a small smile.

  Thomas didn’t know what to feel. He was conflicted. He had a family he knew nothing about. His mother’s family! He didn’t remember her ever speaking of them.

  ‘So I wrote to them. I asked if they had a grandson and if you could be him. This is their reply.’

  Thomas exhaled and sat down on the grass, staring at the fence. ‘It’s a bit hard to believe,’ he said finally.

  There was a silence.

  ‘Do you think you’d like to go and visit them?’

  ‘I don’t . . .’ Thomas stopped and turned to Mac. ‘I want to know what happened to my mother! She left one day and never came back, even though she promised. She promised!’ His voice was angry now and he stood up, agitated. ‘She left us with him.’ His disgust and hatred was obvious. ‘I want to know why. Why she left, why she didn’t come for us.’ He stopped and tried to get his emotions in check. ‘Maybe they know,’ he finished more calmly.