by C. Fonseca
“That’s not a good idea.” Eleanor shook her head. She couldn’t stand the idea of them walking downstairs, through the crowded bar, and all the way to the tram stop without Alexa talking to her. “I’m fine. You go ahead.”
“If you’re sure?”
“Are you sure?”
Alexa gave Eleanor an intense, long searching look, her eyes stormy green, before she shrugged, turned on her heel, and walked away.
Eleanor collapsed further into the armchair. Suddenly very alone. Friends don’t go behind your back. Alexa’s words stung, but Eleanor probably deserved them.
She pounded her fist against her thigh. It was her damn spirit of enquiry, her inability to let things go, that had got her in this mess. Alexa wasn’t just a project that Eleanor could focus on with the curiosity of an explorer. Eleanor had never meant to upset Alexa or endanger their fledging friendship. After being away from Melbourne for so long, Alexa was her only friend. Eleanor’s heart sank at the realisation that she’d probably ruined the chance to deepen their connection.
Eleanor couldn’t believe her own stupidity. The words in her head were like an animated GIF, trapped in an infinite loop. I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have done it. She had to find the pause button, figure out what to do next, and make things right with Alexa.
Chapter 16
Green dragons
“What a scraggly mess.” Alexa pulled her hair back off her face and squinted blearily at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. There were dark circles under her eyes. “Well, fuck.” What did she expect after such a sleepless night?
She ran the tap, cupped her hands, and splashed her face with cold water. The sharp icy jolt reminded her of last night when Eleanor coaxed her into a warm, cosy place and then turned on the hose. Fire smothered—but damn, not entirely extinguished.
Alexa gathered her hair into a tight ponytail. Her hazel-green eyes stared back as she quickly did the maths. Six per cent Chinese. “Really?” She blinked rapidly. If Gran was one-quarter Chinese, that made her mother twelve per cent. So, yes, she was six per cent Chinese. Alexa smiled tentatively at her reflection. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Why hadn’t she ever wondered about her grandmother’s widely spaced dark brown eyes and prominent cheek bones? Well, she supposed those features alone didn’t make her particularly Asian. When she’d seen the grainy image of William Brown, she knew—his resemblance to Gran was indisputable.
There had to be a reason her grandmother kept their ancestry a secret from her family. She couldn’t think of anything plausible; her grandmother wasn’t at all racist, so why had she never said anything?
Alexa yanked off her pyjamas and tossed them across the bathroom, ready to feel the steady stream of hot water hitting her skin.
Five minutes later, she turned off the taps, stepped out of the shower, and enveloped herself in a towel. She’d been so irritated with Eleanor last night, she’d failed to ask for a copy of the yearbook picture. The team photo on Eleanor’s phone was far from clear, but Alexa wanted to examine that image of her great-grandfather again. The things she most remembered were his smiling eyes and cheeky grin—so like her mother. And unlike Alexa, who took after her tall, slim father, William was compact and stocky.
She ran her hands over her face and sighed. What quirks or characteristics did she share with William? What were his parents like? Questions were mounting up, and there was only one way to get the answers.
Alexa broke into a cold sweat at the thought of confronting her grandmother with what she’d learnt from Eleanor.
At four thirty, Alexa hesitated for a moment at her grandmother’s front door before she tapped softly and turned the key in the lock. She opened the door a fraction and peered around the corner. “Granny? It’s me.”
“Alexa, come in,” Gran called, “I’m in the kitchen.”
Alexa relocked the door and slowly walked in, carrying the small bag of items her grandmother had requested. The weight of her task sat heavily on her shoulders.
“Hi, Granny.” Alexa leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Hope I remembered everything.” She emptied the groceries onto the kitchen table. “Two bananas, a few mandarins, and a loaf of organic sourdough—gluten-free.”
“Thank you.” Gran reached for the bread, pulled on her glasses, and read the label. A small frown creased her forehead. “Alexa Bellamy, this is not from the supermarket. You’ve been at that fancy health food store again. Please, take what I owe you from the cookie jar.”
Alexa dismissed her grandmother’s request with a smile and pulled out the last item from the cloth bag.
Gran returned Alexa’s smile, her eyes glinting with delight. “Oh my. Dark chocolate with sea salt and saffron. You shouldn’t be wasting your money, Alexa. You’re spoiling me.”
Alexa wrapped her arms around her grandmother and squeezed gently. “Who else can I indulge? I’ll put the kettle on and make us a cup of tea.”
“That would be lovely.”
“What do you fancy?” Alexa stood beside the wooden sideboard. The top shelf was lined with an array of colourful tins. She hoped her grandmother would choose one of the more relaxing varieties.
“Oolong, please.”
“Good choice,” Alexa said. The tea was known for its stress-relieving properties.
“Don’t forget to rinse the leaves with a little hot water before you let it steep.”
“I remember, Granny.” Alexa playfully rolled her eyes, even though she was comforted by her grandmother’s tea rituals. She was always very particular about its preparation and kept an eagle eye on Alexa to be sure she followed her directions.
“Did Patrick find this oolong tea for you? I haven’t seen it before.” Alexa held up the blue and white tin of Canton Jade.
“Yes. He got it from his cousin’s shop—Cousin Jake, who owns the Dragon Pearl Restaurant.”
“I remember. Your Mahjong group went there for Chinese New Year celebrations last February, didn’t they?” Alexa placed the rinsed tea leaves into the clay pot and poured on a small amount of water.
Her grandmother nodded. “They do the best Sichuan-style roast duck.” She chuckled.
Alexa loved the way her grandmother still enjoyed her food. Especially authentic Chinese food. She blinked. Another thing that, until yesterday, would have seemed quite ordinary.
“You must have seen Eleanor at the library this week,” Gran said, pointing at the tea pot. “Now. That’s been long enough. You’ve steeped the leaves for sixty seconds.”
Alexa hesitated and steadied herself for a moment against the edge of the table before pouring the tea into two porcelain cups, placing one in front of her grandmother. “There you go.” She sat down, picked up her cup, and held it in front of her face. “I saw her yesterday.” She stared into the delicate cup filled with pale green tea, hoping it would be a panacea to her inner turmoil. Alexa sipped, breathing in the calming, floral bouquet, but it did nothing to quell her disappointment in Eleanor. No matter how many times she’d thought about it, Alexa was no closer to understanding Eleanor’s motives. Was it her sense of entitlement that led her to meddle?
“She really is such a lovely young woman. Attentive and tender-hearted.” Gran waved her cup in front of Alexa.
Alexa gulped. Gran was right about Eleanor; but her contradictory behaviour had Alexa’s insides in a twist.
“Eleanor made me so relaxed in front of the camera,” Gran said. “We were chatting like old friends. I hope to see her again soon. It’s just not easy viewing things on the back of those digital screens. She promised to show me some of the pictures when she’d printed them.”
“I’m sure she will, then.”
“Did you know she has a darkroom? I thought film cameras were obsolete, but Eleanor says she likes to keep her hand in with film photography. It’s part of
her art process.”
“She treasures her grandfather’s old analogue camera,” Alexa mumbled, growing weary of her grandmother’s constant praising of Eleanor.
“So, she’s into ‘retro’ just like you are, darling. Like that old jalopy you drive,” Gran said with a satisfied smile.
The fact that her grandmother enjoyed Eleanor’s company so much and was happy talking about her past with her briefly made Alexa wonder if she’d over-reacted to Eleanor’s snooping. She didn’t think so. It was time Alexa explained to Gran what Eleanor had done, and it was about time her grandmother started sharing the family secrets with Alexa. She put her cup down and closed her eyes.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” asked Gran, her soft hand gently closing around Alexa’s wrist.
Alexa turned her palm upwards and held her grandmother’s hand, taking comfort from their connection. “You and I have always been able to discuss almost everything, haven’t we?”
“Of course, child. What on earth is worrying you?”
“Eleanor told me you two had quite a chat during the photo shoot,” Alexa said, easing mindfully into the difficult subject.
Gran smiled. “She said it was an honour when people shared their lives with her, when they opened up about their past, and dreams, and all kinds of things.”
Alexa frowned. “And you felt comfortable doing that?”
“Yes, completely. Why?” Her grandmother’s eyes narrowed. “How are things between you and Eleanor? I thought you were getting along just fine. Maybe more?”
“I thought so, too.” Alexa squeezed Gran’s hand and let it go. “How about some more tea?”
“No, thank you. You sit here and tell me what’s troubling you first. Are you upset with Eleanor over something?”
“I am.” Alexa swirled her teacup three times clockwise and peered into it. Was that a hammer or an anchor on the rim of the cup? According to tassology, either way, it meant she had challenges to overcome. She gulped, dragging her finger through the tea leaves. She was here to learn the truth, so it was only fair that she was frank with her grandmother. “You told Eleanor that your father, William, played football for Melbourne University.”
“I did?” Her grandmother looked at her strangely and rubbed her chin. “Oh, I may have mentioned Father was a keen sportsman. Yes. Yes, I did. He played football while studying engineering. He was quite good, Alexa. That’s how he met my mother. He was introduced to Elizabeth Hampton at one of those parties organised by the club. Her brother, Oswald, was part of the team.”
“Uncle Oswald who gave you a job at his magazine?”
“Yes, they were friends. My father was a good-natured young man, but I think he didn’t make friends very easily.”
“Why was that?” Alexa asked quickly, then continued on before Gran could answer, “Granny, why have I never seen any photos of William? I can’t remember Mum talking about him, and you never mention your father’s parents.” Alexa shook her head. “It’s strange.”
“Eloise was not even four when William and Elizabeth moved to Far North Queensland to establish a lychee fruit orchard. Remember, their old Queenslander house burnt down.”
Alexa nodded. “The photographs and documents were lost.” She couldn’t stall any longer. She had to cut to the chase for her grandmother’s sake; she was already looking befuddled. Alexa pushed the empty cup away, linked her fingers together, and placed her hands on the table. “Gran, Eleanor took it upon herself to pry into our business. She found a picture of your father, William. My great-grandfather.”
“What?” Gran asked in a squeaky voice. “Where on earth?”
“It seems that her great-grandfather, Reginald Miller, and our William played for the same university football team in 1913,” Alexa said slowly. “Eleanor found a team photo in Reginald’s university yearbook.”
Gran was silent and went pale as a sheet.
Alexa reached for her grandmother’s hands. “Why have you never told us that your father was Chinese?”
“Half Chinese.”
“So, it’s true,” she said softly, relieved that Granny hadn’t denied it.
Her grandmother held her head high, and her eyes fluttered. “It is the truth.” She let go of Alexa’s hand and, using a serviette from the table, dabbed at the corner of her eye. “I’ve had to live with the secret so very long, Alexa.”
“Why, Granny?” Alexa looked hopefully at her grandmother, then asked the question she most feared. “Are you ashamed of your Chinese heritage?”
“Oh, my God, darling. No. Definitely not! How could you even think that?” Gran held her hand tightly to her chest. “I have spent most of my life carrying my family’s shame. But please believe me, Alexa, it is not because of our ancestry.”
“I couldn’t imagine that it would be, but why have you hidden it from us? Surely, Mum had no idea. She would have told me.”
Gran lifted her right hand to her neck and twirled the gold chain around her shaky fingers. From the chain hung a locket that held two tiny pictures of Eloise and Gerald. “She didn’t know; at least I don’t think so.”
“Why did she have a newspaper clipping hidden in a book at the cottage? Eleanor pieced it together. It was your grandmother’s death notice. Mei-Li Brown, née something. I don’t remember.”
“Her maiden name was Kwan.”
Being told this information by Eleanor a few hours ago was one thing, but now Gran had confirmed it. “Mei-Li Kwan,” Alexa said aloud, just to hear the name. She needed to piece together the facts now, but knew it might take her a long time to work through the emotional upheaval. The fact that Eleanor was the bearer of such a significant revelation, coupled with Alexa’s regret for not making the discovery herself had her world spinning out of kilter. She tugged at her ponytail. “Your grandmother, Mei-Li Kwan, married a Mister Brown.”
“Yes. Mei-Li was married to Otto Brown.”
“Otto Brown,” Alexa repeated. “William was their son. Were there any other children?”
“No, my father was an only child. He married Elizabeth Hampton, who as I told you was the sister of his friend, Oswald. The Hamptons did not approve of the boys’ friendship. It got even worse when their daughter dared to fall in love with someone who was half Chinese. They threatened to cut her off.”
“Oh, Granny.” Alexa clutched at her chest. “That is horrible. Thank goodness the Hamptons’ animosity didn’t tear William and Elizabeth apart.”
“The strength of their love for each other overcame her parents’ disapproval.” Gran put her head in her hands. “I’m sorry to say, the Hamptons of Toorak were racial bigots. Except for Oswald, who came to my rescue.” Grace looked up and eyed Alexa steadily, as though she had more to say.
“Are you okay to continue? You look awfully tired,” Alexa said gently. “Eleanor should have spoken to us first before going off and investigating on her own.” Her hands clenched into fists. “I’m so angry with her for stirring all this up.”
Her grandmother waved her hand briskly in front of Alexa. “I’ll admit to being tired; however, I must finish this story now.”
“If that’s the case, Granny, I know what we both need.” Alexa reached for the slab of chocolate. “A little boost of energy.”
Gran’s eyes softened. “Don’t be angry with Eleanor. I don’t believe she intended any harm.”
“She had no right, sticking her nose into our business.” Alexa pushed the broken pieces of chocolate across the table. She grabbed a large chunk, popped the whole thing into her mouth, and devoured it so quickly she couldn’t taste it.
“I’m nearly ninety-two, Alexa. It’s time.”
There was a strength in her voice that made Alexa look straight into her grandmother’s brown eyes. Eyes that were sharp and determined.
Alexa took a mouthful of tea to wash away the remains of the chocolate and gave he
r grandmother her full attention.
“I’ve been carrying this secret for far too long.” Gran caressed Alexa’s hand, shaking her head regretfully. “I wish I’d had the courage to have this conversation with your mother. She had the newspaper notice, so she must have suspected something.” Gran’s eyes sparked suddenly. “When Eleanor mentioned the clipping and I realised what it meant, I didn’t want to believe it. My grandmother’s death notice is filed away in a safe place along with—” She paused for a moment’s reflection. “How did Eloise get it?”
Alexa looked down as Gran’s grip tightened on her wrist. “What’s the matter, Granny?”
“The box that Patrick has of mine with documents, letters, and Mei-Li’s sketchbooks and poems. How did Eloise get hold of it?”
Alexa closed her eyes, trying to concentrate through her confusion. She rubbed her forehead. Her head felt heavy, as though full of cement. “What box?”
“Just a few things that were hidden away in the attic, inside a bolted cupboard. When I had that termite treatment done years ago, I asked Patrick if he’d keep my things in his storage unit.”
“You did? Why didn’t you ask Mum or me to look after them?”
“I didn’t want to burden you both with my old things.” Gran hunched forward, her chin resting on her chest. “I don’t want to burden you now, but I have to tell you what happened to Mei-Li.”
What on earth could have happened to Mei-Li that had her grandmother so distressed? Alexa squeezed her hands. They were shaking. She gently lifted Gran’s chin with her finger. “Please, tell me,” Alexa said soothingly. She couldn’t bear to see her grandmother in such a state.
“In the 1920s, Mei-Li Brown practised as a Chinese herbalist in Castlemaine under her maiden name, Mei-Li Kwan.”
“A herbalist…in Castlemaine?” Alexa tapped a finger against her chin. That was why Granny had reacted so strangely to the print of the Chinese herbalist Alexa and Eleanor showed her during lunch at the library.