‘Knock yourself out,’ said Nina.
After Deborah left, Nina found her way back to the studio. She picked up her fine brush and dipped it. Heath appeared next to her, fascinated by her skill in shaping the essentials of Jim’s face. When it was done Heath held Nina from behind, resting his chin on her head as they stood and looked at the finished canvas of the painted man. It was Jim, no question, looking straight out of the painting, smiling, as if amused by all the mischief he had caused.
‘Dad,’ Nina whispered. Then she picked up her brush again.
This time there was no hesitation, no agonising. Her strokes were swift, definite. She was turning the man away again. Beyond understanding, out of reach. Just as he always had been.
CHAPTER 24
‘It is my very great pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife.’
A storm of applause and whistling broke on the heads of the bridal couple as the proud groom took his new wife’s face in his hands and they kissed.
The band struck up ‘Stand By Me’ and Nina wiped away a tear. Heath stood with his hands on her shoulders as she sat to sign the certificate, and the warmth of his hands sent a flood of pleasure through her whole body. I’m the luckiest woman who ever lived, she thought.
The plump, dark-skinned celebrant returned to her microphone. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family, thank you once more for being here today to share in this wonderful moment.’ Turning to the newlyweds, she continued, ‘On behalf of everyone here today, and those that couldn’t be here, we wish you every happiness in your married life together. Please join me in congratulating Matthew and Deborah O’Sullivan!’
Among the cheers, the haunting song of Stu’s didgeridoo echoed into the darkening sky. Below, the guests pressed forward politely but insistently to congratulate the beaming couple. Nina made sure she carried out her only other bridesmaid duty of the day – crowd control. She herded away a gang of little girls in fairy dresses, who charged, shrieking, through the crowd, sparklers held high, the dogs at their heels barking hysterically.
A long whistle then a muted explosion drew everyone’s gaze to a glittering silver flower blooming high above the river gums at the bottom of Moira and Roy’s garden. The smell of gunpowder made everyone smile, and the crowd greeted each new burst – pink, green, gold – with a soft ahhh.
Nina caught sight of Phillip, hair ruffled and shirt-tail hanging out, scurrying from rocket to rocket, helped by an animated Alfie, trying to light them as fast as he could.
Aunty Moira, Uncle Roy and the rest of Matty’s mob took the first turn with congratulations. Matty’s trademark smile grew impossibly wider as he held Deborah’s hand. His relatives slapped, kissed, ruffled, nudged and generally heaped love on him and his bride.
The press of the crowd separated Nina and Heath, but washed Nina into the bridal circle, where she finally got the chance to hold her sister in a silent embrace. As they leaned back to face each other, they smiled to see that they were both weeping happy tears.
‘Look at you,’ Nina said, shaking her head in wonder at Deborah’s wedding dress, a confection of a cocktail frock that Grace Kelly would have been proud of.
‘I’m still not sure about the footwear though,’ Nina said, laughing at the cowboy boots peeping out from under Deborah’s gown. Deborah hiked up her gown and planted her white boot next to Nina’s red one. They were the identical size.
‘Sister-boots!’ said Nina. ‘And they match the cake,’ said Deborah, nodding to the table behind them. Sure enough, where the tiny bride and groom usually stood on top of the cake, two little pairs of cowboy boots, one pink, one blue, poised to line dance.
Nina laughed. Deborah hugged her again, whispering, ‘Isn’t this the most friggin’ amazing day!’
‘Did you say … friggin’? Deborah Flint-O’Sullivan!’ shrieked Nina. ‘I’m surprised at you!’ Nina looked around, but Hilary was nowhere to be seen. The champagne hadn’t been opened yet, but she felt drunk already. She stood up and sighed.
‘It is absolutely … friggin …’ she said, starting them both giggling again. Deb was so, so – she was just so Deb. She was different from Nina’s Sydney friends. Yet they just clicked. So this is what it’s like, Nina thought, to have a sister. A person not like you but of you.
Soon they were separated by the crowd. Nina fought her way back to a small eddy near the cake, where she caught sight of Heath drifting into Matty’s orbit.
‘Good on ya, Matty,’ Heath said as they gripped hands. ‘Take care of her, mate, or you’ll have us to reckon with.’
‘You can count on that,’ said Matty.
Ben was next.
‘I’m so glad you could come, Ben,’ said Deborah. ‘I know you should be in Sydney. Doesn’t your Ag degree start this week?’
‘Someone’s gotta get this party started,’ said Ben. Deborah leaned down to hug him.
Ben winked at Nina. He’d spent the last few weeks making up for his coldness in the past, doing a thousand small jobs for Deborah and Matty.
Hilary and Phillip were next.
‘I do hope you will be happy, but god knows, I can’t imagine.’ Hilary pecked Deborah’s cheek and avoided Matty.
Deborah took a deep breath and kissed her mother’s cheek. ‘Thanks for coming, Mum,’ she said sincerely.
Nina knew all about the difficulties of the past few weeks, and knew that Deborah hadn’t even counted on Hilary turning up. Deborah had changed so much since she’d announced her engagement to Matty. She was her own woman. And she didn’t take responsibility for Hilary’s behaviour anymore.
Hilary spoke with her gaze on the middle distance. ‘Deborah, Matthew, I have a surprise for you. Tomorrow you’ll depart for a week’s honeymoon on Hamilton Island.
‘Mum,’ said Deborah, surprise in her voice. ‘Thank you.’
Nina said nothing. Hilary had been very much on her dignity throughout the ceremony, barely acknowledging Moira and Roy, and generally looking as if she wished she was somewhere else. In their turn, most of the guests gave her a wide berth. The story of how she’d tampered with the bore at The Springs had been discussed in exhaustive detail in the district and universally condemned. It would take time for the impression of her greed and hysteria to fade in Wandalla’s consciousness.
At least she’d come, and Nina had to admit, she was behaving better than usual.
‘Well, you two,’ offered Phillip, smoothing his hair with one hand, ‘my wedding present will be delivered to Paramour by the time you return. “High Hopes”, the most promising stallion of the decade, I’m told, and a fitting start to your own enterprise.’
‘Oh, Dad.’ Tears welled in Deborah’s eyes as she embraced him.
As Nina and Heath drifted away from the others, hand in hand, Nina watched as a group of teenage boys commandeered the dance floor while the band took a break. They were led by Alfie, who had finished helping Phillip with the fireworks. The smaller boys copied their moves to the Australian hip hop throbbing from a boom box. Not far away, fragrant smoke drifted from a fire surrounded by elders chatting and laughing amongst themselves. The crushed grass and the fine grey dust of Wandalla smelled like home to Nina now.
Heath reached down and gently pulled her body-warmed locket out of Nina’s cleavage. He popped open the catch and she pulled back a little, embarrassed. But it was too late – inside was a photo of Heath.
‘Just for when you’re not around,’ she explained feebly. ‘Gorgeous, don’t you think?’
Heath shook his head and smiled. And he did look gorgeous tonight, thought Nina. His blue linen shirt under his leather jacket matched his eyes and his jeans hugged his bum in just the right way.
There were no designer accessories here, no retro fashionistas, except for Deborah, who’d been influenced by Nina’s own bad example. The invitation had insisted on ‘Casual Dress’ and everyone apart from Hilary had complied.
Yes, no weddings like this in Sydney, Nina thought. Harrison and Terence had pick
ed them up that afternoon in Terence’s ancient Morris Minor. As they drove, her eye caught patches of something like snow on either side of the road. Hardly. It was cotton. Wads of the stuff. She should be used to it by now. From a distance it looked like a fluffy cloud had crashed and shattered across the land. A truck tore past, trailing fairy-floss wisps. It was June now, and while the air was brisk, it was perfect for a wedding. At least they wouldn’t melt. The foursome had sung their lungs out to corny love songs all the way. Even the kelpie pup Heath had given her, christened Sydney – Syd for short – got into the act, howling along with the chorus, and barking as they dissolved into laughter. Glancing towards the verandah, Nina saw the kids squabbling over whose turn it was to carry Syd.
And yet the garden was transformed. Matty’s nieces and nephews had worked for days, making paper chains and lanterns to hang from every tree branch and available beam, post and railing. And all the fairy lights in Wandalla were draped from the verandah, the orange trees and over the outside dunny.
Nina and Heath wandered to a table laden with wedding presents. There were glasses, cutlery, a painting from Possum and Shona, a boot rack from Ben, a voucher for a weekend in the Blue Mountains from Harrison and Terence. And standing next to the table, the most outstanding present of all, at least according to Nina, a river gum coffee table, made by Heath. It was made from a massive tree that had been struck by lightning at Paramour a year ago. Matty and Heath had spent half a day sawing it into blocks.
‘Hey. You two.’ Harrison and Terence beckoned them from near the Hills Hoist. Thank goodness the awkwardness was over now. Harrison and Nina had made their peace. Straight after Hilary’s accident, Harrison had come out to The Springs to face the music, as he put it. They had sat on her verandah in the afternoon shade. And after a long pause, he’d finally spoken.
‘Nina, I am so ashamed. I’ve been hurting you and lying to you since the beginning. I didn’t want you to come here. I didn’t want to like you. But I couldn’t help it. Not just because you’re Jim’s girl, but because you’re you. I’ve come to ask your forgiveness.’
Nina sighed. She’d been nervous before the meeting and was still hovering on angry. Though he’d told her much of the story over the phone, she had still felt hurt, bewildered.
Harrison had leaned back. ‘So many things over the years were packed away in secrecy, in darkness. It’s like an infection.’
When he had explained more about Hilary’s hold over him, so many things fell into place; the conversation she’d overheard at Jim’s wake; Harrison’s strange obedience to Hilary.
Hours later, over dinner, all that needed to be said was said. When Harrison had stood to leave, Nina had hugged him.
‘Thank you,’ he’d whispered. ‘Thank you. I know I don’t deserve this.’ His arms had encircled her. ‘I hope you can learn to trust me, however long it takes.’ A smile broke out on Harrison’s face. ‘And now that you’re staying, we’ve got the time.’
‘Absolutely. I’ll be around for good.’
‘Your father’s country,’ he’d said softly.
‘Exactly.’
‘Great night,’ said Heath to Harrison and Terence.
‘Yeah, deadly. So, when do you hope to be open for business, Nina?’ asked Terence.
‘By next winter if we’re lucky,’ she replied.
‘You’ve gone and got my man all inspired, you lot,’ interrupted Shona, offering champagne from a tray. ‘Can’t get him to do anything round our place anymore,’ she laughed. ‘Not that you ever could! It’s all The Springs this, the gallery that.’ Shona winked at Nina and moved on.
‘What about you guys?’ Heath asked Harrison. ‘Still keen on moving to the coast?’
‘Not for a while yet,’ answered Harrison. ‘This one’s not ready to be put out to pasture just yet are you, my love?’
Terence smiled.
‘No,’ Harrison continued. ‘It looks like Wandalla will have to put up with us a little longer. I’ve got to say though, I’m enjoying retirement. I should have done it years ago. Nina, we have to get together about the collection for the gallery. Possum’s been creating quite a bit of excitement. Looks like you’ll be spoilt for choice with local talent.’
‘That’s fantastic. And, Terence, let’s get moving on your ideas for the bush tucker tours. Why don’t you bring Possum and Shona over for a barbecue?’ suggested Nina. ‘Heath’s flying Ben to Dubbo airport on Saturday, so Sunday’d be best.’
Nina and Heath’s eyes locked at the mention of him flying again.
‘How long will Ben be away?’ Terence broke in.
‘Probably depends how long Olivia manages to keep him in Sydney, d’ya reckon, Nina?’ said Heath.
Harrison and Terence smiled and Nina pushed Heath gently, slid her hand down his back, and gripped his hand in hers again.
The chatter rose while the Inchboards and the O’Sullivans circulated with plates of charred kebabs and the crowd milled around the long white-clothed tables laden with goodies. A large man sat devouring a giant lamington, his napkin acting as a bib. Nina instantly recognised him. ‘Porker,’ she whispered to herself, proud that she really did know just about everyone here now.
The kids had found a bubble-blowing kit and Syd was pouncing on the sparkling orbs as they came within reach. The boys were chased off the dance floor so their elders could pick some blue-grass classics but soon a few couples, led by Deborah and Matty, formed a line, demanding they play ‘Crazy Little Thing Called Love’.
Later, Harrison drew Nina aside. She had the feeling there was something he still wanted to say to her.
‘I still can’t believe he didn’t tell me about you and Hilary, Nina,’ said Harrison, frowning. ‘We were supposed to be soulmates. After all, he was the only person I ever told about being struck off the roll. I never thought he was capable of keeping a secret from me. The only thing I can think is that he was so determined to protect you that, for once, he went against everything in his nature and kept his mouth shut. I think he was right not to trust Hilary. There’s no telling what kind of havoc she could have created with that information.’
Nina nodded. She’d been thinking the same thing, trying to imagine what would have happened if Hilary had known who she was at age three, or seven. Impossible to tell, but what a mess if things had gone that way.
Harrison lowered his voice. ‘Please, Nina. Try not to judge him too harshly. It was a big thing for a 20-year-old to suddenly take on a baby – let alone with all the dramas with Hilary.’
Nina followed his gaze to where Hilary was struggling to remove a stiletto embedded in the lawn.
‘You’re right.’ She took Harrison’s hands.
‘Happiness, hey?’ said Harrison, shaking his head.
‘Happiness,’ she echoed, smiling.
Nina noticed that Hilary was wandering among the guests looking forlorn. No-one seemed to want to talk to her.
She watched as Phillip joined his wife and took her arm. He seemed to be making some kind of appeal. He must be good at that by now, thought Nina. Still, she was sorry for Hilary. This wedding was the complete opposite to the grand affair she had imagined for Deborah at Paramour.
But this was Deborah’s life, whether Hilary approved or not. Looking over at Deborah and Matty, she could see her sister was completely at home with Matty’s mob, in a way that she had never been at Paramour.
Deborah caught Nina’s eye and made a beeline for her. ‘Come on. Let’s get a photo with Mum. Just the three of us.’
Nina beckoned Linda, the ‘official’ wedding photographer. ‘Here, use my camera for this one.’
After some grumbling from Hilary, the three women stood, awkwardly silent. Only Deborah managed a natural smile.
‘Wait,’ cried Hilary after the first shot, scrambling in her bag for her compact and lipstick.
‘Mum, you look fine how you are,’ said Deborah.
Nina watched discreetly as Hilary applied the crimson smear. There was som
ething oddly familiar about the way she was holding her compact, the curve of her cheek …
‘Okay, toots, enough with the make-up,’ said Linda, waving her camera. ‘All together now, girls, eyes up. Like three peas in a pod.’
‘Hardly,’ grunted Hilary. Then, ‘Really, girls, I can’t imagine what possessed you to wear those ridiculous boots. For one thing, they do nothing for your enormous feet.’ She pointed her own elegant stilettoed toe at a flattering angle towards the camera.
‘If you got it, flaunt it, I say,’ said Nina.
Linda got the shot.
‘It’s thanks to you, Mother, that we’ve got massive hoofers,’ Deborah said, smiling.
‘Well, there are ways to make the best of your good bits and minimise the bad. It’s something I’ve done all my life and it’s a pity people don’t make more of an effort,’ said Hilary, her eyes falling accusingly on Nina’s jeans.
‘Hmm, I certainly didn’t get that gene. What else have we inherited from you?’ asked Nina, grinning.
‘Well, I’m sure I can’t say how Deborah takes after me. But one thing you and I have in common is that we both know how to get what we want.’ Hilary gave a flicker of a smile. Was that grudging respect?
It was dark now and Hilary stood alone on the verandah.
‘Listen up, everyone.’ Roy’s voice drifted to her from the garden below.
Time for speeches and the cake, which, under those tacky decorations, was no doubt one of Moira’s damned ordinary spice confections, thought Hilary. Shielding her vodka and orange, she moved to an old wicker chair, booting off that fat cat of Moira’s. Fleabag. She really wasn’t supposed to drink but what Phillip, Deborah and, god – even Nina – didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. If anyone needed a drink, she did.
There was a peal of laughter from the huddle of wedding guests. Hilary looked down at them. It was Nina. And why shouldn’t she laugh? After all she had everything to be happy about. She had the property she wanted, including Durham House, plus the man she loved.
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