The Painted Sky

by Alice Campion

  Then Russell piped up again: ‘I know. You should be one of them nymph things Hilary, you better go nude.’

  Hilary had laughed, but then Jim was back with his charcoals and his easel. ‘Not a nymph,’ he said, staring right through her till she trembled. ‘A water sprite. Yeah, like Norman Lindsay.’ She remembered his fingertips brushing hers as he took the joint that was glowing in Harrison’s hands and handed it to her. ‘Russell’s right, Hilary. I would love to paint all of you.’

  She took the joint between her fingers the way she’d seen Jim and Harrison do, and inhaled the last of it, before stubbing it out on the ground. She was acutely aware that Jim’s eyes were still on her – hungrily, it seemed. Was he falling in love with her?

  ‘Sure,’ she had said, trying to sound cool.

  ‘Best take the locket off, though. Water sprites don’t wear jewellery,’ Jim had said, his voice suddenly quiet, serious. He took the locket from around her neck and threw it by his paint box.

  She recalled how her hands shook as she unbuttoned the top of her shirt. There was no sound save the occasional flutter of the magnolia leaves in the wind. She undid the next one, and the next. Then she’d hesitated.

  ‘I’ll call it “Beautiful” ’cos that’s how you look right now,’ said Jim, as he leaned over and held her chin in his hands. ‘The light is perfect.’

  Hilary couldn’t recall removing the rest of her clothes but soon she was naked, poised on the fountain edge, inhaling another joint, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  ‘None of that shit for me,’ said Russell. He looked angry, put out, but did not move from his spot under the tree.

  ‘I think it’s time for a refill,’ said Harrison, pouring more champagne.

  A hush descended on the fountain as Jim worked. He seemed mesmerised by Hilary. And she loved it.

  ‘Now, if I can just get you to move this way,’ Jim had asked. He was leaning close to her, so close. As he moved to reposition her arm, his hand brushed the side of her breast and she gasped.

  ‘You right there, Hilary?’ he asked lightly.

  ‘Of course,’ she whispered.

  Hilary posed naked, basking in the attention. They were all drinking, all smoking, except for Jim, who had stopped hours ago and was now concentrating on one thing – his picture.

  Some memories are so painful they can almost affect you physically. Hilary shuddered as she remembered.

  The sun had started to dip in the sky. She had felt herself floating through time. She was on top of the world. She knew she was beautiful and her beauty was powerful. It had finally touched Jim, the man she loved. But then things became hazy. The long afternoon drifted on and she found herself lying on the picnic rug. How long had she been there? A cloud passed over the sun. She shivered.

  For a fleeting second she’d thought she’d found what she had always wanted. Jim’s lips finally on hers. But when she opened her eyes the lips were not Jim’s – they were Russell’s.

  She screamed and slapped him hard across the face. She stood up and staggered around. The others had gone, the paint box, champagne glasses and Harrison’s car had all disappeared.

  ‘Don’t, Hilary, I love you. Stay with me,’ Russell had begged. But Hilary was gathering her clothes. She was sober, shocked and furious. The day was almost over and so was her dream. Jim was gone.

  ‘Stay with me and I’ll even get the locket back. You can have it. I swear,’ Russell had pleaded.

  She had turned to him. ‘You are pathetic.’

  Hilary shivered. It was so long ago …

  CHAPTER 8

  By the third day after the party, the silence in the house seemed to hum, becoming louder as the day tipped into afternoon. Since the party, Nina hadn’t spoken to anyone, and she was starting to feel her isolation. She’d desperately wanted to talk to Kathryn and Mac yesterday as planned, but hadn’t been able to face going back to Paramour. It would have to wait till Sunday. She’d call in at their property next week on her way back to Sydney. It was in the wrong direction, but she wanted to talk to them face to face.

  She didn’t need to see anyone right now. Everything about that night was a disaster but it was hard to tell, Nina decided – having obsessed over it for two days – which was the worst part. Hilary’s accusations or the fact that they held a grain of truth. There was no denying that while she’d been dancing with Heath, she’d felt that unmistakable sexual energy coming from him. Before, she’d had a decent chance of hiding her feelings. Now, that was impossible and the situation was a thousand times worse. She never wanted to see him again.

  Yes, she had failed miserably on all fronts. Hilary’s denial about seeing Jim on the Blackett Track was clearly a lie, but it wouldn’t do any good to tackle her again. The best lead she had was a dead end.

  She was longing to see Moira, even though working on the place now seemed pointless. She walked through the cool rooms dragging her feet. She stepped out on to the front verandah and wandered out to the old rose garden, Bach at her heels. The phone in her back pocket started barking, startling her. It was only the second time she’d got coverage at the house. The real Bach answered, excited by ‘company’.

  ‘Shoosh. Settle down, Bach. Hello?’

  ‘Hey, beautiful. You miss me?’

  ‘Theo! Hi! Do I ever? I miss you so, so much.’

  ‘Guess what? I’ve got good news. They accepted Dad’s offer on the restaurant. Victoria Street, it can’t fail. I told him I’d help with the hiring. He wants you to do all the design work, menus, promos and that.’

  ‘That’s great.’

  They chatted on about Sydney stuff and she heard herself being extra-nice. Guilt? Still, it was great to talk easily without an agenda.

  A cloud of dust appeared at the gate.

  ‘Theo, I’ve gotta go, someone’s coming. I’ll call you back.’

  It was Matty’s ute. That’s right, the fencing. Nina hurried to greet him. He moved with easy grace as he unloaded a battered toolbox. A young boy, who Nina thought looked around 15, slid out of the ute cabin and slammed the door.

  ‘Steady on, Bub,’ Matty cautioned.

  The boy wore oversized jeans, a blue singlet, work boots and a peaked cap facing backwards. He was good-looking, like Matty, but not as tall. His eyes were framed by the longest lashes she’d ever seen. He turned to the tray to unload a couple of fence posts, a roll of fencing wire and a post digger.

  ‘This is my cousin Alfie,’ said Matty.

  ‘Hi,’ said Nina.

  Alfie nodded without looking at her.

  ‘Showing him the ropes,’ Matty added.

  ‘Thanks for coming, Matty,’ said Nina. ‘I thought you couldn’t make it till tomorrow?’

  ‘Yeah, but Hilary wants me to do stuff then. I hope you don’t mind.’

  Nina picked up one of the spades and followed Matty and Alfie as they carted the gear to the collapsed garden fence. Matty gave Bach a scratch under the ear, prompting the little dog to curl up in a shady spot right there. He’d hang out with the boys.

  Matty rocked one of the rotten fence posts, preparing to pull it out, while Alfie shuffled in the dirt, shoving his hands down his pockets, nearly reaching his knees.

  ‘Give us a hand here, will ya, Alfie?’ asked Matty, and the boy took the top half of the post in a bear hug. A few more heaves and it was free from the earth. Alfie laid the post on the ground and Matty set about removing the old wire.

  The pair settled into a system and their industriousness inspired Nina to find the old secateurs she’d oiled. The wisteria vine engulfing the verandah needed serious pruning.

  They all worked in companionable silence for the next hour or so, each intent on their task. When the tangle of vegetation reached Nina’s knees, she carried a load down and threw it over the new fence.

  ‘Thanks for this, Matty. It’s going to look so much better.’

  ‘Sure,’ Matty said, leaning on the post digger. ‘I can do this without t
hinking. Good to get a change anyway. Paramour’s a bit tense.’

  Nina sighed. ‘I feel awful. Deborah must hate me for ruining her party.’

  ‘Debs would rather forget the whole night. Hilary puts too much pressure on her and Debs can’t handle it.’

  ‘I thought I saw that when Hilary unveiled that – sculpture.’

  ‘Yep.’ Matty met her eyes for a second. There was no need to say more.

  As the afternoon wore on, the pile of tangled branches became larger and the new fence paraded further around the perimeter, patrolled by Bach. Finally, the team downed tools and sat with mugs of tea, admiring their work.

  ‘Is it always this busy here?’ said Matty as another ute approached the gate.

  Moira stepped out with an armful of home-picked roses and a cake tin decorated with ladies in long dresses and parasols.

  ‘Moira! Thought you were busy today! What happened to the German tourists?’ Nina kissed her.

  ‘Cancelled.’ Moira gave Matty a hug.

  ‘Nice work, bubba,’ Moira said, acknowledging the fence and Alfie’s hand in it.

  Alfie smiled.

  ‘We’ve gotta run, Aunty, get the horses in,’ said Matty.

  ‘Thanks, guys.’ Nina handed Matty an envelope of cash. ‘It looks great.’

  ‘No worries,’ he said and they waved goodbye.

  Moira sat in her usual chair on the verandah. Bach settled nearby and gazed up adoringly. He seemed ready for the second act of today’s entertainments.

  ‘Given that old vine a crew cut, love?’ she asked.

  Nina smiled, peeked inside the cake tin, and went to make more tea.

  ‘So, I hear you created quite a stir at the Paramour do?’ said Moira as Nina brought out the tray.

  ‘I bet you did. Oh, Moira, it was awful. I was dancing with Heath when Hilary started screaming at me, accusing me of god-knows-what. Everyone heard. I could’ve died,’ said Nina. ‘Poor Deborah. It was her engagement party, for god’s sake.’

  ‘Now shoosh, darl,’ Moira clucked, patting Nina’s arm. ‘Don’t you let Hilary get under your skin. She’s just having one of her conniptions. And as for Deborah – well, it wasn’t you that stuffed up at her party, was it? It was her bloody mum again as usual. She’d know you didn’t mean anything.’

  ‘You think so?’ asked Nina, taking a bite of spice cake.

  ‘’Course. She’s used to Hilary carrying on like a pork chop. Deborah acts how Hilary wants her to, but that’s not the real Deborah. And from what I heard everyone was probably thrilled with the entertainment value of a scene like that. Some of those dos up at Paramour go on and on.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Nina smiled.

  They sat in silence for a minute.

  ‘Deborah and Heath are a good match, aren’t they?’ ventured Nina, trying to bat away the recurring memory of Heath’s strong arms holding her on the dance floor.

  ‘That’s for them to decide,’ said Moira. ‘Weddings are happy enough. It’s having breakfast together that causes all the trouble.’

  Nina giggled. ‘Oh, Moira, I’m so glad you came over. I asked Hilary about something Possum told me.’ Nina told Moira the story. ‘Hilary denied it, flatly denied it, but I can’t work out whether she’s telling the truth or not.’

  ‘Can be difficult,’ said Moira. ‘If Jim did come here, he would have stayed at The Springs, most likely. I wonder what brought him out here on his own?’

  ‘Yes. That’s the question,’ said Nina. ‘I thought he might have been having an affair.’

  Moira shrugged.

  ‘Hilary’s my best lead on this, and there’s no way she’ll talk to me now. Why do you think she hates me so much? She doesn’t even know me.’

  Moira sighed and put her cup down on the table.

  ‘Look. Hilary’s a tricky one. She had a hard start and there’s some ’ave a hard start and get on with living like they should. Others just keep stirring up trouble till trouble has no option but to bite ’em on the backside. The thing is, Nina, there was a time way back when Hilary carried a torch for your father and you look so much like him you probably upset her a bit.’

  ‘Hilary and Dad? I got that feeling,’ said Nina. ‘But why? Dad wasn’t rich, like Phillip.’

  ‘No,’ said Moira. ‘People don’t always start the way they end up. Hilary’s family was dirt poor. There were five Murphy kids living in a shack down the river and Hilary took care of them.’

  ‘Harrison told me at the party that Kathryn and Mac sent her to boarding school.’

  ‘That’s right. She came back a different person. Jim was educated, arty. A looker. She was bound to fall in love.’

  ‘What was it about Hilary that made the Blacketts pay for her education?’

  ‘Hilary’s mother, Bridget Murphy, worked on Blackett properties for years and the Blacketts always took an interest in the kids. Kathryn and Mac are good people.’

  Nina felt a trickle of pity. Ice-queen Hilary, presiding over that gleaming white mansion. Trying so hard to become someone else. Someone better, accepted, loved.

  ‘So anyway, Hilary was mad for Jim but the feelings didn’t run both ways. She followed him around. It was sad to see.’

  Nina poured more tea. ‘How do you know so much about Hilary?’

  ‘Always known ’em. If we went fishing in Bree we’d bring a feed for the Murphys. Odds and ends.’

  And yet Moira hadn’t rated an invitation to the party.

  ‘Really? Wow. Okay,’ said Nina.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ said Moira, smiling. ‘She doesn’t want to be reminded of the old days. No skin off my nose. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, then there was the night of Scott Blackett’s 21st – that was Heath’s dad, you know?’

  Nina nodded.

  ‘Well it was at Mac and Kathryn’s place, out west. A weekend party with everyone staying over. Your mum was there too, working on her history project, around the same time Roy and I met her.’

  ‘Yes, I remember Mum telling me.’

  ‘Anyway Julia turned up wearing this deadly velvet dress that showed off her curly red hair and hazel eyes and ring a ding ding, as they say. Love at first sight for your dad. Hilary was home from school, looking daggers, but your dad just laughed at her. What a palaver. Actually, I felt sorry for Hilary – but it was for the best. Julia was much more of a match for him. I guess seeing you brings back those memories for Hilary, about the bloke she couldn’t have.’

  ‘But shouldn’t she have got over it by now? She attacked me in front of the whole party, not to mention the locket thing.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Moira.

  ‘My locket,’ said Nina, taking it out of her shirt and smoothing it with her thumb. ‘Hilary asked me where I got it like I’d stolen it or something.’

  ‘Well, Hilary, like everyone else around here, would know the story behind that locket.’

  ‘The gold prospecting story? About some old rellie called Barkin’ Larkin? Dad was having us on, wasn’t he? Seriously?’

  ‘No, he was real, all right,’ said Moira, clearly enjoying herself. ‘Jim and Russell’s great-great-great-grandfather, I think it was. Barnaby was his real name. Mad as a wet chook. There’s a photo of him in the Wandalla library, standing outside the School of Arts. He has a fuzzy beard, baggy pants and a big round hat. He had the farm by then but he’d been a gold miner. And that’s where it gets interesting,’ continued Moira. ‘He was in Sofala in the 1850s. He and his partner were digging their claim for over a year but barely found enough to feed themselves. Things got tense between them the longer they were out there. Story goes that they were about to pack it all in but then, on their final day, they unearthed a nugget. Huge. He reckoned it was as big as his liver.’

  ‘His liver?’

  ‘Big drinkers, I guess. Anyway, they drank to their success at the local – got plastered. But the odd thing was that nobody saw them after that night. They both just disappeared.’

  Moira wi
dened her eyes. ‘Then months later, old Barkin’ turned up back here. He always claimed that his partner took off with the nugget but plenty of people, including my grandma, who told me the story, reckoned it was Larkin himself who bumped off his partner and kept the nugget. Of course he couldn’t sell it without everyone finding out. Instead, he hid it away for future generations. If they were smart enough to find it.’

  Nina laughed.

  ‘Well, they say Barkin’ had the locket made out of a chunk of the nugget and gave it to his missus. And these markings are s’posed to be clues to where the nugget is, in case they ever needed the money. They didn’t call him Barkin’ for nothing.

  ‘Your Grandma Vera wore this locket ’til she died. It was a legend round here. I didn’t know what happened to it after that but I suppose Jim had it.’

  Nina opened the locket and passed it to Moira. ‘Possum reckons the wavy lines mean water. If I worked out what the other lines mean, maybe we could find that nugget. It’d solve my cashflow problem. Do you think it’s really true?’

  Moira looked at the symbols engraved inside the locket and placed it back in Nina’s palm. ‘You never know, love,’ she smiled.

  ‘But I still don’t get why Hilary reacted to it the way she did. She acted as if it was hers.’

  ‘I’ve no idea. You can never tell what’s going on with Hilary.’

  ‘More tea?’

  ‘More tea? And have me gasbagging for another hour? The rate I’m going, I’ll be here till dark. I’ll shoot off.’

  ‘Moira,’ said Nina, knowing full well that she had come out to check on her after the party disaster.

  ‘Yes, love?’

  ‘Thanks. Thanks for everything.’

  Moira’s stories were gold. She’d check out Barkin’ in town tomorrow. And she must talk more with Kathryn and Mac. She’d catch them on Sunday.

  Nina set her beer glass down on the table and started to sketch a large, sleek magpie. She had been watching it for ten minutes or so since it swooped down from a tall gum to peck at chip crumbs from a discarded packet on the ground in front of her.