Tracing Invisible Threads

by C. Fonseca

  “So, the building manager took you up to the dome and out on the roof?” Alexa chimed in quickly, glad for Jac’s timely distraction.

  “Yes, it was awesome. She led me up a meandering stairway, along some rickety planks, and into the ceiling above the dome.” Eleanor’s eyes sparkled. “Do they do that for everybody? I’m glad I’m not scared of heights. The skylight they’re restoring is huge, and the view of Melbourne from out on the roof: wow! Let’s hope my photographs do it justice.”

  “Bet you gave Michelle a heart attack.” Alexa laughed. “I can imagine her holding onto your ankles while you swung off the scaffolding to get the perfect shot.”

  “Correct. I was trying to recreate the legendary photo of the Manhattan skyline, Men at Lunch.”

  Jac shook her head. “Ha, health and safety regulations are a lot tougher now than when they built the Empire State Building.”

  “Actually, it was the Rockefeller Centre,” Alexa said.

  “You knew that.” Eleanor grinned at her in a way that made Alexa feel appreciated, and Alexa’s cheeks flushed.

  “God, where has the time gone?” Jac stared at her watch wide-eyed. “I told the babysitter I’d be home by eight. Got to run.” Jac collected her bag, pushed off the couch, and pulled on her coat. She blew them a hurried kiss. “Don’t be a stranger, Eleanor. Have a great weekend. Bye, Alexa. See you at work on Monday.”

  Eleanor waved goodbye to Jac before turning back to Alexa with an amused smile. “Is she always so exuberant?”

  “Unquestionably. Jac’s a single mother with adorable twins.” Alexa shimmied to the other end of the couch, closer to Eleanor’s chair. “So, we’re finally alone.” She crossed her hands in her lap.

  It was cosy sitting by the fire in their private little nook. From the noise filtering up the stairs, the bar and restaurant were crazy busy. “Are you hungry? The restaurant has a fantastic selection of mains and desserts.”

  “No thank you. I had plenty from the platters you ordered earlier.” Eleanor patted her stomach. “It’s comfortable and snug here, not too noisy. I can actually hear myself speak.”

  “Haven’t you lived in London for more than ten years? You must be used to noisy, crowded spaces?”

  Eleanor stared up at the ceiling. “When I first arrived, I was into everything. Experiences, sights, sounds, culture, art—people. London has it all. When my photography changed direction and took me further afield, though, my eyes opened to other worlds,” she said with a faraway look. “When I returned between assignments, the whole London scene was an overload. I sought peace and quiet. There were some pub nights and parties but less and less.”

  “What kind of things do you do between assignments?” She tilted her head towards Eleanor. She wanted to make the most of this time to ask questions and learn more about Eleanor’s life.

  “Well I never spent much time sitting around at the flat.” Eleanor smiled. “My flatmates were transient beings. Cabin crew and a journalist. We were like passing ships in the night. I’d often take myself on runs through the suburban paths or long rambling walks in the countryside.”

  Alexa waved her finger in the air. “With your camera, of course.”

  “Never parted.” Eleanor patted her rucksack. “Except when I’m running, but I always have my phone,” she said. “Coming home has made me realise what I’ve been missing.”

  Alexa waited for Eleanor to say more, but she didn’t. Maybe Eleanor was thinking of basing herself closer to home and her family. For a few moments, Alexa contemplated what that could mean for her and Eleanor. Would they be able to develop something more than friendship if given more time together? “What have you been missing?” Alexa asked, eventually.

  “My family, of course.” Eleanor tapped her lip contemplatively. “A sense of belonging. Wide open spaces. Lots.” She stared into the fireplace intently.

  “You haven’t told me why you rang this afternoon. Did you miss me?” Alexa grinned sheepishly. She had missed Eleanor.

  “I did.” Eleanor hesitated. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something else, then shook her head. The deep brown of her eyes seemed fathomless.

  Giving Eleanor time to figure out what she wanted to say, Alexa reached for the water jug and topped up their glasses.

  “Thanks.” Eleanor took a sip of water and placed the glass on the table. “It was super nice of Katherine to give me the prints. I’m going to get them framed. I didn’t expect such a lavish afternoon tea in your boss’s office.” She smiled.

  Alexa stared at Eleanor for a moment, certain the afternoon tea was not the subject that had Eleanor tongue-tied just before. “The cheese scones and lamingtons were entirely Katherine’s idea.”

  “Thanks for offering to keep the envelope locked in your office until I can collect it next week.” Eleanor smiled again. “It’s been an interesting time at the library.”

  “Just interesting?” Alexa asked dryly. “You’re a girl who’s travelled a lot, seen a lot of interesting things.” She winked.

  Eleanor’s eyes widened. “You’re joking, right? It was fascinating actually, for someone who spent quite a bit of time there as a student. I always wondered what went on behind the scenes and above the dome. Now, I’ve had a look behind the stacks.”

  “You’re even picking up the jargon.” Alexa reached across to Eleanor and rested her hand on her knee. “Even though you’re not into crowded places, I am glad you came tonight,” she said. “So, what have you been up to apart from your very interesting time at the library?”

  “Well, that’s why I was ringing you, but then I changed my mind and thought I should talk to you in person.” Eleanor’s voice had taken on a serious tone.

  “Now, this sounds intriguing—go on, what did you want to tell me?”

  “Would you mind if I got a coffee first?” Eleanor started to pull herself out of the armchair. “Would you like one?”

  Alexa jumped to her feet. “I need to visit the bathroom. What else can I get you, while I’m downstairs? How about a shot of cognac?” Curiosity gnawed at Alexa as she took in Eleanor’s apprehensive state, but clearly, Eleanor needed more time and a little incentive to open up about what was on her mind.

  Eleanor shook her head, then just as quickly changed her mind. “Yes, please.”

  “I’ll order them on the way back, and you…” Alexa placed a finger in the middle of Eleanor’s chest. “Get ready to talk.”

  * * *

  Eleanor sank back into the armchair, her eyes riveted to the shapely retreating figure of Alexa Bellamy. She’d never seen anyone look as good in a tweed business suit. Earlier she’d enjoyed watching the casual, confident way Alexa had shed her coat, then loosened her shirt collar and narrow necktie.

  At the top of the stairwell, Alexa turned and smiled, her eyes dancing with mischief.

  Caught. Embarrassed, Eleanor looked down at her shoes.

  It was obvious that her attraction for Alexa was burning brighter than ever. It had not diminished one bit, and Alexa’s playful, friendly mood tonight was making it impossible to focus on the task at hand, which was, first and foremost, to disclose the information about Alexa’s family without upsetting her.

  She made herself take a deep lungful of air, breathing in and out slowly. For Eleanor, pursuing the mystery of William’s background was second nature. The newspaper clipping, Grace’s reaction to the photograph of the herbalist and the way she’d skirted around the subject of her father, had tugged at Eleanor’s inquisitive nature. Now, Eleanor had connected the subtle clues, confirmed her suspicions, and she mentally prepared herself to stop being a wuss and tell Alexa.

  The background music didn’t match Eleanor’s edgy mood as she waited. It was the kind they played in lounge bars to keep you chilled-out, but it wasn’t working for Eleanor. She reached for her bag, unzipped the front pocket, and pulled out her
phone, tapping it on her knee.

  Alexa was taking forever. Eleanor looked at the time and her phone fell out of her hands and onto the floor with a soft thud. She cursed. Alexa had only been gone for five and a half minutes. She needed to calm down.

  She scooped the phone off the floor, opened her photo app, and found the folder marked ‘Alexa.’ With trembling hands, Eleanor began to swipe through the photos she’d scanned from her great-grandfather’s university yearbook.

  “Mystery solved?”

  Eleanor jumped and dropped her phone again. Luckily, this time, it landed in her lap. Her stomach did a backflip. “You scared me half to death.”

  “That would never be my intention, believe me.” Alexa sent her an amused look beneath her long, dark eyelashes. “It’s just that you seemed so immersed in your phone, you probably didn’t even notice I was gone for ages, waiting in a queue three deep to fetch these.” She handed Eleanor a cognac snifter filled with a generous splash of toffee-coloured liquid. “I’ve ordered the coffees downstairs, but they might take a while.”

  Eleanor cupped her hands around the curved glass and lifted it under her nose. She sniffed and took a tentative sip. It was warm and smooth like honey. She licked her lips. “Tastes as good as it looks.”

  Alexa sank into the couch and held out her glass to Eleanor. “Here’s to drinking French cognac in the attic of a good old Aussie pub.”

  Their glasses clinked.

  Eleanor wasn’t usually in favour of liquid courage, but she had to admit it might help. “I’ll drink to that.”

  Alexa sat upright, one long leg crossed over the other. “So, I’m ready.”

  Eleanor shifted around in her chair, took a healthy mouthful, and swallowed. She placed her glass on the table, reached for her phone and took a steadying breath. “Grace was an excellent subject, totally at home in front of the camera. So keen to share stories of her colourful life,” she said, stalling.

  “Gran did mention you have the knack of coaxing information from your subjects,” Alexa said with a smile. “I would love to see the pictures when you’re ready.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I want you to see them. If you come out to my place, I’ll show you the sample prints.” Eleanor scrolled back through the images and found what she was looking for. “This is not of Grace.” She hesitated. “Do you remember the old newspaper clipping that fell out of your mother’s book at the cottage? This one?” She enlarged the image on the phone and held it out to Alexa.

  Alexa glanced at her questioningly, then stared at the screen. “Of course, I do. For some reason, you asked if you could take a copy of it. It was about the Melbourne Cup winner from way back when.”

  “Yes.” Eleanor went to the next image. She had to get on with it before she lost her nerve again. “On the back was a list of births and deaths.”

  “I remember at the time you seemed fascinated with the clipping.” Alexa leaned back and took another sip of her cognac. “Is there more to this? What does it have to do with Gran?”

  “During our photoshoot, Grace talked a little about her father, William, and mentioned he attended Melbourne Uni.”

  “He studied engineering, just like Grandad.” Alexa swirled the liquid around the base of the glass. “Gran’s always said that’s one of the things that attracted her to Gerald. That he reminded her of her father.” She laughed, her voice a little husky from the alcohol. “Unfortunately, I never met my grandfather and know virtually nothing about my great-grandfather.”

  “Ah…but would you like to learn more?” Eleanor sat forward in the armchair.

  Alexa’s brow raised in question. “I think it’s time you told me what this is about and also what it has to do with the newspaper article.”

  “Grace told me her father played football for Melbourne Uni.”

  “Eleanor, what are you talking about?” There was an unmistakable note of exasperation in Alexa’s voice that made Eleanor cringe.

  “William Brown played football for Melbourne University the same year my great-grandfather Reggie captained the reserve team. I found a picture in Reggie’s Yearbook. A team photograph, Alexa. With both of them pictured.” Eleanor rubbed her sweaty palms along the top of her trousers.

  “What makes you think it’s my great-grandfather William?” Alexa narrowed her eyes and gave Eleanor a glassy stare. “There must have been hundreds of William Browns, a name as common as John Smith.”

  Eleanor swallowed hard, distressed that Alexa sounded angry. “Let me explain,” she said slowly. “Remember the notices on the back of the clipping? That’s the important part. One of the death notices is of a Mei-Li Brown.” She zoomed in on the notice and passed Alexa the phone again. “Please, take a look.”

  Alexa squinted at the screen and reached into her bag with her other hand. “I can’t read it without my glasses.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s not very clear,” Eleanor said.

  “What is all this about, Eleanor? I’m totally confused.”

  “It will make more sense when you read the notice.” Eleanor continued to keep her voice as calm as she could.

  Alexa’s brow furrowed in obvious interest, and she began to read it slowly, “Mr and Mrs Henry Ball are proud to announce the birth of their eight-pound daughter—”

  “Not that notice. The first death notice. Scroll down a little; it must have moved.” Eleanor rubbed her forehead. This was not going well.

  “All right. Here goes.” Alexa sighed deeply. “Hargraves Funeral Home. BROWN. March 24. Mrs Mei-Li Brown, nee KWAN. Wife of Otto (deceased), mother of William.” Alexa looked up at Eleanor, her eyes wide, and then back at the screen. She cleared her throat and kept reading, “Funeral services at 2 o’clock. The remains will be taken to Castlemaine for internment.”

  Eleanor waited patiently while Alexa continued to stare at the screen. She tried to read the look on Alexa’s face. Perplexed came to mind. That wasn’t exactly the right word, though. Discombobulated was more like it. Alexa’s reaction told Eleanor she’d approached the whole thing badly. With a shaky hand, she grabbed her glass and gulped down the last of her drink.

  Twisting a tendril of glossy hair around her index finger, Alexa appeared to be silently reading the death notice a few times over. It seemed as if ten minutes had gone by before her green eyes flashed, and she regarded Eleanor unwaveringly. “What did you do? How did you get this information?”

  Eleanor rested her forehead in her hand. “I told you, it was in my great-grandfather’s yearbook.”

  “Eleanor. What the hell were you doing using your investigative tendencies to poke around in Gran’s family history? My family history.” A vein pulsed in Alexa’s temple.

  “I just wanted to help.” Eleanor pinched the bridge of her nose. She was worried the news might unsettle Alexa, but she hadn’t been able to think of an alternative way of conveying the information.

  “Remember, I told you I did not want to upset Gran. That I would eventually do the research myself.” Alexa’s lips tightened to a thin line. Although her voice was low and controlled, it was clipped and chilly.

  Eleanor put her head in her hands and tugged her hair. “I’m so sorry; this must be quite a shock.”

  Alexa put the phone face down on the table with a clunk. “Which part?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Eleanor wished the chair would open up and swallow her.

  Alexa’s gaze slowly scanned the room before darting back at Eleanor. “Which part?” she repeated. “Which part did you think I’d be shocked about? The fact that I’ve never known that my great-grandfather was Chinese?” Eleanor watched Alexa’s shoulders slowly slump. She looked crestfallen. “Or the fact that my grandmother has never spoken about our Asian ancestry?” Covering her face with both hands, she mumbled through her fingers, “Did Mum even know?”

  “Your mother must have at least suspected some
thing,” Eleanor said. “The article fell out of one of her books. She might have been searching—”

  “You can’t know that.” Alexa sighed heavily. “Why did you go ahead with this investigation without asking permission from Gran or me? I thought you had ethics, Eleanor.”

  “Good evening, ladies. Apologies it took so long.” The waiter set the coffees on the table. “Un café piccolo, un espresso.”

  “Thanks.” Eleanor looked up in time to catch Alexa’s brief nod to the waiter before he turned and strode off.

  “I can understand why you’re upset,” Eleanor said despondently, crushed by Alexa’s assessment of her.

  Alexa pushed Eleanor’s coffee towards her. “Can you? Can you, really? Just because you have time on your hands, there was no reason to meddle,” she said loudly. “I wish you hadn’t.”

  At the sound of Alexa’s raised voice, the people nearby turned in their direction.

  Eleanor reached for her coffee, downing it so fast, she singed her tongue. “Ouch.”

  Alexa ran one finger around the rim of her cup and stared at her coffee. “Just when I was starting to trust you.” She stopped and shook her head, closing her eyes tightly. “Just when I thought…” Her words faded away.

  “I made a mistake. You’re right. I should have come to you first.” Eleanor stared at her feet.

  “Big mistake.” Alexa’s voice was low and filled with warning.

  Eleanor’s heart hammered in her chest, but she looked up to meet Alexa’s gaze. She had to explain. “Grace seemed to be leaving hints, as though she had something she wanted to say, as if she really needed to unburden herself but couldn’t. And then she told me her father played football for Melbourne Uni. My great-grandfather Reggie was the captain of the football team at the same time,” Eleanor spoke quickly. “Alexa, it was too much of a coincidence. I couldn’t help myself. When I discovered William was half Chinese, I had to tell you.” She hesitated, then whispered, “I thought we were friends.”

  Alexa pushed away her unfinished coffee, grabbed her bag, slipped into her suit jacket, and stood up. “A friend doesn’t go behind your back, Eleanor. Let’s call it a night before one of us says something she’ll really regret,” she said in a tone that allowed no further discussion. “Are you ready? I’ll walk you to the tram stop.”