Tracing Invisible Threads

by C. Fonseca

  Eleanor lowered the volume. “I’ll fast forward if you’d prefer to listen to something a little less melancholy?”

  “Please, don’t. Marita has the sweetest voice, so tender.” Humming the tune and listening carefully to the lyrics made Alexa’s brain start processing the inspiration behind Marita’s words. By 1923. There were a hundred in the factory. In a moment of sudden clarity, she turned to Eleanor. “Remember we read about the factory in Waterbury making watches for the military in the 1920s?”

  “Yes. Yes, we did. What are you thinking?” Eleanor asked.

  “On Saturday, we read that article in The Argus outlining Mei-Li’s testimony. Mei-Li said Edith told her she’d worked in a factory, but Foster said in court that his wife never worked in a factory. Remember, he shouted, ‘the chink is a liar?’” Furious at his words, Alexa banged her fist on the steering wheel.

  “That’s right, the bastard. You obviously think there’s a link.” Eleanor reached for the dial and turned up the volume.

  They were silent as they listened to the rest of the song, Alexa a mix of anger and determination as she took the time to really process all the lyrics.

  As the last strains of music faded away, Alexa reached out and pressed stop. “What if Edith did work in the clock factory?” She clenched the steering wheel. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Foster was too ashamed to admit his wife was a factory worker. We have to find out if she actually worked there for sure.”

  “Let me check the city of Waterbury and see if we’re right about the factory using radium paint.” After a long, anxious minute, Eleanor waved her phone at Alexa eagerly. “Eureka! Listen to this. ‘The Waterbury Clock Company employed women with keen eyesight and nimble fingers to paint the dials and numbers on watch faces.’ It says here,

  …to make the process faster, the assembly line of painters placed the paintbrushes into their mouths before dipping the brush into the radium-laced paint. It was a repetitive process that caused a build-up of radium in their mouths. They didn’t know the risks and even painted it onto their nails and clothing, so they’d appear more attractive and glow in the dark.

  Eleanor shook her head. “That is unbelievable.”

  “Totally unbelievable.” Anger burnt in her stomach.

  “Exposure to radium led to the deaths of dozens of women,” Eleanor continued to read. “And that’s only the number reported. There could have been more.”

  “That’s terrifying.” Alexa shivered at the thought of it.

  Eleanor clutched Alexa’s thigh. “Edith may have been poisoned like the women in the Orbweavers song, who got horribly sick and died. Maybe she didn’t have any symptoms until she got to Australia.”

  “How on earth can we prove that?” Alexa asked helplessly. It seemed impossible.

  “We have to contact Edith Foster’s granddaughter, Reyna.” Eleanor rubbed a hand over her face. “At least we can try.”

  Alexa was in a daze. The possibility that they’d uncovered the cause of Edith Foster’s illness had her head spinning.

  Eleanor gently tapped her thigh to get her attention.

  By the look of concern on Eleanor’s face, Alexa knew she was driving erratically. She shoved the coupé into gear, turned left into the nearest street, and pulled over, taking deep breaths to calm herself down.

  Eleanor put her hand on the back of Alexa’s neck, rubbing gently.

  “I just need a few minutes to digest this.” Alexa rested her head on the steering wheel and sighed. “Eleanor, this could be the answer.”

  “It could be, Alexa. I feel jittery and excited.”

  “Me too,” Alexa said, lifting her head.

  Eleanor stared at Alexa, wide-eyed, for a long moment before she glanced at her watch. “What’s the time difference in America? I’d like to email Reyna tonight. With your permission.”

  “Are you sure? It may still be a sensitive subject; we need to tread carefully. What will you say to her?”

  Eleanor combed her hand through Alexa’s hair. “I’ll say that you work at the state library and that we’re researching the American hotel in Castlemaine where her grandfather was the manager. And that we would be interested in any information about her grandparents’ time in Australia.”

  “If you put it to her like that, Reyna shouldn’t feel threatened by the questions and may be willing to share more,” Alexa said, hope starting to mix in with her anxiety.

  “Alexa, you may have solved the mystery. There’s a chance that radium poisoning contributed to Edith Foster’s death, and just as we suspected, it had nothing to do with Mei-Li’s remedies at all. That’s a brilliant discovery.” A look of anticipation flashed in Eleanor’s eyes. “I know we can’t just yet, but I wish you had something to tell Grace right now.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, darling. We need to confirm it’s the same Edith Foster and that she really was a Radium Girl,” Alexa said as calmly as she could, but she could hardly contain the excitement bubbling up inside her.

  Her body trembled as she grabbed a handful of Eleanor’s shirt, pulling her forwards. Their lips came together hungrily. Just a few minutes, Alexa thought. They could afford just a few minutes of kissing like this before she drove Eleanor home. Eleanor’s mouth was hot and fervent, pushing against hers. A barking dog and the sound of a gate creaking eventually drew them apart, reluctantly.

  “Whoa…” Eleanor gasped, her brown eyes hazy, a little unfocussed. “Probably not the time or place for a make out session, huh? Especially when you have to get home to your grandmother,” she said in a ragged voice. “But we’ll have plenty of time for more. Let’s make it soon.” She smiled hopefully.

  Alexa couldn’t find her voice, nor could she wipe the big silly grin off her face. Reaching out to brush Eleanor’s swollen lip with her thumb, she sighed. “Until then.”

  Chapter 30

  The three philosophers

  “What a fine spring day. The cottage looks as pretty as a picture,” Grace said. “I’m so glad to be here.”

  Leaning against the open car door, Eleanor tugged at her T-shirt and smiled down at Grace. “It’s a magical spot, isn’t it?” The sun, sitting high in the rich blue sky, bathed the garden and surrounding fields in a golden-yellow glow. Eleanor filled her lungs with sweet, warm air and sighed, momentarily distracted by the big old red eucalyptus with its scarred trunk and crown of blue-green leaves casting interesting patterns on the grass below. “Picture perfect.”

  “It’s been much too long between visits,” Grace said, fluffing her hair with a cupped hand. “Alexa drove your father’s car very competently. I assume you’ll be the driver when we return home later today.”

  Eleanor chuckled. “I doubt it very much. Your granddaughter likes to be in the driver’s seat.” Not always, luckily. She took Grace’s hand, helping her get out of the car. “I’m more than happy for Alexa to drive on these unfamiliar roads.”

  Grace glanced into the back seat. “Alexa’s made quick work unpacking the car. She’s taken the ornamental cherry tree out the back already.”

  “She gets an ‘A’ for efficiency.” Eleanor smirked.

  “That’s my girl.” Grace rested her hand lightly on Eleanor’s shirtsleeve. “Can I lean on you for support? I seem to remember a few bumps and dips along this pathway.”

  “Certainly, Grace.” Eleanor placed a firm but gentle grip under Grace’s elbow.

  “Alexa is very lucky to have found you, dear Eleanor.”

  Eleanor lifted her hand to her face as she felt a blush touch her cheeks. “Thank you for the compliment. I’m the lucky one.”

  “I’ve always loved coming to Gold-Dust Cottage,” Grace said as they ambled towards the steps. “The garden is still as charming as ever.” She tightened her grip on Eleanor’s forearm. At the top of the landing, she hesitated, taking in a deep breath. “My old lungs need to ta
ke full advantage of the clear, country air.”

  Eleanor gestured to the table and two white wooden chairs in a partially shaded corner of the porch. “Why don’t we stay out here for a while? There’s a refreshing breeze blowing. We could sit for a few minutes while Alexa opens up the cottage.”

  She helped Grace settle into a chair, making sure she was sheltered from the harsh sunlight. Too jumpy to sit still, Eleanor propped herself against the porch’s sturdy wooden railing. She couldn’t wait for Grace to hear the news but feared some of it would be distressing for her.

  “Thank you, dear.” Grace picked one of the delicate flowers from the vine trailing along a trellis, holding it in the palm of her hand. “I remember the day Eloise planted this native sarsaparilla. She said it was vigorous and useful. Good qualities in humans, too.” Her voice was laced with a hazy melancholy. “The leaves and stems can be used as a tonic. Eloise studied medicinal herbs and plants, and mixed herbal concoctions for neighbours and friends to relieve bronchitis or other minor ailments. Alexa has her book of drawings and notes. My darling daughter was a healer and a dreamer.” Grace met Eleanor’s gaze with a pensive look, as if her mind had briefly wandered someplace else. “Alexa has always been much more guarded. Careful. That’s why it’s so heartening to be an observer of what’s developing between you two. I’m so glad she has you, Eleanor.”

  Eleanor took a deep breath, held it in her chest, and exhaled slowly. It meant a great deal that Alexa’s grandmother was giving them her blessing.

  A gentle breeze ruffled Grace’s snowy white hair, the heat heightening the colour of her cheeks.

  “Parents aren’t supposed to outlive their children, it’s just not the natural order of things. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of my Eloise.” Grace closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, she sat up straighter and lifted her chin. “Her spirit still lives on here, watching over the garden. She would be so proud of Alexa,” she said with a sweet smile. “I have a feeling she would like you very much.”

  “Phew. The sun is beating down on the back patio mercilessly. You two have chosen the perfect spot to sit at this time of day.”

  Eleanor turned to see Alexa stepping towards them carrying a tray. She blinked. Alexa had changed into loose fitting shorts, tank top, and had bare feet. So relaxed and refreshed. Eleanor sighed. Breathtaking.

  Alexa placed the tray laden with three glasses and an icy jug, already frosting, on the table. “Freshly squeezed minty lemonade.” She winked at Eleanor. “What are you two chatting about?”

  “You, of course.” Grace regarded her granddaughter with an appraising look. “You were right to coax me along today. It’s been too long since I was here.”

  Eleanor picked up the wicker rocking chair from the other end of the porch and placed it adjacent to Grace. “For you, Alexa.” She held it steady for her to sit down, brushing Alexa’s arm with her fingers. In an act of great bravery, she leaned over and planted a quick kiss on Alexa’s lips.

  “Hmmm.” The flecks of gold in Alexa’s eyes shone with affection.

  Grace giggled. “Don’t mind me.”

  Eleanor sat next to Alexa, quenching her thirst with a sip of the tangy, icy drink. “Grace was telling me about your mum’s book of drawings and some of the medicinal plants and herbs she used.”

  Alexa arched an eyebrow and gave Eleanor a knowing look. “Perhaps an interest that was passed on from her ancestors?”

  Grace sat to attention. “She inherited her passion from my grandmother, Mei-Li. It’s such a shame that I couldn’t tell Eloise the truth about our ancestry. I’ll never forgive the Hamptons.”

  Eleanor handed her a napkin, and Grace wiped the moisture from her eyes. Hearing the love and anguish in her raspy voice, Eleanor’s heart went out to her.

  Alexa reached for Grace’s hand. “Granny, we have some important news. We were going to tell you after lunch, but there’s no point waiting now.”

  Grace’s eyes widened. “What have you discovered?”

  Alexa glanced at Eleanor as if needing assurance. Eleanor nodded, smiling encouragingly, and leaned over, running her fingers across the back of Alexa’s forearm.

  “We’ll go through it step by step,” Eleanor said. “Just so we don’t leave anything out. Alexa, why don’t you start?”

  * * *

  Alexa chewed her lip, contemplating where to begin. “It all started right here at Gold-Dust Cottage.”

  “What started?” her grandmother asked.

  “On Eleanor’s very first visit to the cottage, she found an old newspaper clipping that sparked her curiosity.”

  Gran looked sharply at Eleanor. “That day of the photoshoot. You asked me if I knew about the Melbourne Cup winner.”

  Eleanor nodded. “Yes. It was your reaction to the notices on the back—”

  “That did freeze me in my tracks.” Gran nodded her head vigorously.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Eleanor said sheepishly.

  “And then, Eleanor’s inquiring mind led us to the truth about William.” Alexa placed a hand on Eleanor’s knee to dispel any lingering fears that Eleanor may have had about what she’d done.

  “And it was my turn to talk.” Gran lowered her head. “To tell you about Mei-Li and the trial. To admit the family’s hurt and shame I’d hidden for so many years.”

  With a shake of her head Alexa said, “You were just a child at the time, and the Hamptons put you under great pressure to keep silent.”

  “I know this already, girls. What exactly do you want to tell me?” Gran asked with a glint in her eyes. “I may be ancient, but I still have my marbles. Out with it.”

  Alexa’s body vibrated with excitement, and she wrapped her arms around her grandmother, holding her tight, as if to anchor herself. “Granny, we have good news. It’s not official, but what we’ve learnt will exonerate Mei-Li and clear our family name.”

  “What is it, Alexa?” Gran’s voice was muffled against Alexa’s clothing.

  “After your trip to the hospital, we were determined to get to the truth,” Alexa said. “It wouldn’t have been possible without Eleanor’s help.” She moved back to her chair, still holding firmly onto one of her grandmother’s hands—needing their physical connection.

  “Through our research, we established that Edith Foster, the woman your grandmother was accused of poisoning, and her husband, Perceval, were originally from Waterbury, in Connecticut—”

  “Yes, they were definitely American,” Gran said. “He managed that American hotel where Grandfather Otto worked.”

  Alexa nodded, touching Eleanor’s arm, motioning for her to continue and explain her part in the process.

  “The Fosters had one daughter named Betsy. She was three when Edith died, and she returned with her father to Waterbury the same year,” Eleanor said. “Through my genealogy account, our search led us to a 1940s census, which in turn gave us Betsy’s address.”

  Gran wore an expression of earnest concentration on her face, clearly transfixed by the unfolding tale. Alexa gazed lovingly at her grandmother; she had always relished a good story.

  “Do you need a break, Grace?” Eleanor refilled their glasses.

  “No. Go on, Eleanor,” Gran urged. “What happened next?”

  Eleanor took a quick gulp of her lemonade. “I contacted Betsy’s youngest daughter, Reyna, an economics professor at Berkeley. She confirmed that her grandmother had worked at the Waterbury Clock Company that produced instrument panels for warships, planes, and watches with glow-in-the-dark faces and dials.”

  “I remember seeing those watches,” Gran chimed. “They were popular after the war ended, because the soldiers wore them.”

  “That’s right,” Alexa said. “And we know that, before her marriage, nineteen-year-old Edith had taken a summer vacation job at the factory. Even though her husband denied i
t during the trial, Reyna confirmed it. Foster lied in court.” She lifted her grandmother’s hand and gave it a little shake. “That was the amazing breakthrough, Granny.”

  After a startled look at Eleanor, Gran turned to Alexa, a frown wrinkling her forehead. “Apart from Mr Foster being a liar, what does this all mean?”

  Alexa took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Edith and the other women at the factory used glow-in-the-dark paint containing radium. The young women were paid about eight cents for each dial they painted. They were instructed to sharpen the bristles with their lips and dip their brushes into the radium-laden paint to get the sharpest effect. It was called lip point.” Even saying the words made Alexa’s stomach churn.

  “The company never admitted full responsibility even though fifteen dial painters died.” Stroking her throat, Eleanor grimaced. “More died later after years of suffering from crumbling bones, rotting jaws, cancerous tumours, and other complications, like pneumonia.”

  “Dear God. Those poor souls.” Gran gripped Eleanor’s arm, her eyes widening.

  “Yes, Granny, and it’s disgusting how the company tried to bury it,” Alexa said, taking a deep breath to control her anger. “On returning to the United States, Foster filed a lawsuit against the company, but he was unsuccessful because Edith was already dead. The Clock Company never admitted that the women were poisoned by radium—they only compensated the remaining dial painters with free medical care.”

  Gran paled. “He would have known. That dreadful man would have known, and he never bothered to clear my grandmother’s name.”

  “He was negligent. Foster would have known that, although Mei-Li was acquitted, her life would never be the same,” Alexa said, her anger rising again. “Reyna was saddened to learn of Mei-Li’s plight and that it had nearly ruined her life. She was truly sorry that her grandfather hadn’t informed the Australian authorities.”

  “He should have done that!” Gran banged her hand on the armrest of her chair.