Lauren's Dilemma

by Margaret Tanner

  “Yes, he told me about it. His dreams are always the same. It must have been terrible for him, and the memories won’t go away and leave him in peace.”

  “You take Jim, our other boy. He’s so different from Dick. They’re complete opposites, not only in looks but also in nature.”

  “Do you hear from him often? I mean, you only ever read out one of his letters.”

  “On and off. He was never much of a letter writer. Even when he was away at school his letters were always short and infrequent.”

  They lapsed into silence. Laurie glancing around as they drove along felt like it was years since she had passed this way before, with Blair. In reality it was only a few months.

  They came upon the town suddenly, a long dusty street with sprawling, verandah-covered shops on either side. It was similar to most small country towns, only the stockyards, full of bawling cattle, made it different from Sandy Ridge, because they were down at the end of the main street.

  While Mrs. McKinlay ordered their supplies, Laurie browsed through the haberdashery section. She wanted to buy some lace and fine linen to start on the baby’s layette.

  “Hello, Mrs. McKinlay.” The achingly familiar voice caused her hand to tremble. Blair. He had changed little, except for deep lines grooving both sides of his mouth, and more numerous flecks of grey in his hair. By the dusty moleskins and work shirt he wore, he had obviously brought cattle in to market.

  “Hello, Blair.”

  His eyes turned diamond hard as they swept her from head to foot. “Laurie.” He inclined his head.

  The urge to reach out and touch him proved almost unendurable. She clenched her hands behind her back to keep them under control. He started to move away, but Mrs. McKinlay’s question on Helen’s whereabouts stopped him dead in his tracks.

  “She’s in Sydney.”

  Laurie noticed the bleakness in his eyes even as he averted his face.

  “How’s Dick?” He dragged the words out.

  “Not very good. If it wasn’t for Laurie, he’d be a lot worse. Excuse me for a moment. I want to catch Mrs. Crocker. Flora? Flora!” Mrs. McKinlay hurried towards a thin, middle-aged woman.

  “How have you been, Blair?”

  “All right.” He stood motionless now his feet planted apart, one hand thrust deeply into his pocket.

  “When’s the baby due?” he asked abruptly.

  “End of April, early May, I’m not sure exactly.” She was purposely vague in case he started doing calculations in his head.

  The breath whistled from between his clenched teeth. “Dick looking forward to the blessed event?” His voice sounded rough as gravel.

  “Yes. Can’t we still be friends, Blair?” She despised the pleading note in her voice but couldn’t help it.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “When is Helen coming back?” The question fell out of its own volition.

  His mouth twisted, but his voice remained even. “When she’s ready, I suppose. She isn’t fond of country life; the Melbourne and Sydney social scenes are more her setting.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It’s better for both of us this way. I say, Laurie, is everything all right? You’ve gone as white as death.”

  “Dick had one of his turns last night, so none of us got much sleep.” She brushed a hand wearily across her damp forehead, trying to hide her distress.

  “Does he have many of these turns?” An impersonal hand at one elbow steered her towards a chair. “You’d better sit down before you collapse. I suppose one could say you’re well and truly earning your money.”

  “I didn’t marry Dick for his money.”

  “For love?” he sneered.

  “Not that, either.”

  “Why did you do it, Laurie?” His eyes impaled her.

  “I don’t expect you to understand.” Her lips trembled. “I couldn’t bear to see you married to Helen. I cared too much for you.”

  He snorted his disgust. “I loved you, Laurie. I would have married you once I’d sorted things out with Helen.” His confession slammed into her like a brick wall. “You couldn’t wait, though, could you? Had to force Dick to the altar by letting him compromise you.”

  “It wasn’t like that. Please, you have to believe me. I nearly drowned. If Dick hadn’t dived into the water to save me, I’d have died.”

  He stared at her, his face cold and rigid, with not one vestige of warmth in it.

  “It’s true. When the bridge washed away, Bolinda Vale and I were halfway across; I’m a poor swimmer. Anyway, you should talk.” Her bitterness spilled out. “After making love to me, you cried out for Helen. How do you think that made me feel? How many times did Helen share your bed before you got married?”

  It gave her no satisfaction to watch the color draining out of his face. “None of your business,” he snarled, swinging on his heel and limping towards the door.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Mrs. McKinlay clomped back.

  “I felt a bit faint, but I’m all right now. I picked out the things I wanted, but I haven’t paid for them yet,” she gabbled, wondering how she could even speak without collapsing onto the floor in a screaming heap.

  “Put them on our account.”

  “No, thank you, it’s all right. I’ve got money of my own.”

  “It goes on our account, my husband’s instructions. You’re Dick’s wife now, and that’s the way of it.” She was so adamant Laurie gave up arguing. Blair had loved her. She had loved him, yet each of them had married someone else. I think I’d have preferred it if he’d said he hated me, she thought wretchedly.

  They partook of tea and cakes at a small tearoom, but she might as well have been eating paper, for all the taste they had. When they arrived back at the buggy, the man who brought them into town had already loaded up their purchases and now lounged against a nearby verandah post smoking a cigarette. He was in his sixties as were most farm workers now. All the young men were away fighting in France or Egypt.

  The afternoon sun beat down without mercy on the long drive home. Laurie was glad her wide-brimmed straw hat sheltered her complexion from the fiercest rays.

  A pale, subdued Dick greeted them on their return.

  “Are you feeling better?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Did you get what you wanted?”

  “Yes, materials were plentiful, but other things are in short supply.” He helped her bring the shopping in without speaking further.

  “Where’s your father?” Mrs. McKinlay asked him.

  “Down with the horses. I stayed with him for a while, but I wanted to wait here for you both. Sorry about last night, Laurie.” He scrubbed his fingers through his hair.

  “It’s all right. I bought you a present.”

  “Did you?” His eyes lit up as she handed him a tin of his favorite sweets. It took so little to make him happy. Poor Dick. What must he have been like before the war shattered him?

  *

  They spent a pleasant evening. After dinner they all sat in the drawing room and Dick played the piano. He was an excellent pianist, combining a mixture of classical music and bush ballads, and they enjoyed a sing-along. Later, he and Laurie shared a cool drink on the side verandah.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” he suggested. She nodded her agreement.

  He held her hand as they wandered through the gardens, savoring the perfume of Mrs. McKinlay’s roses. The river turned out to be his ultimate destination. It was very quiet there; only the slight rustling of the gum trees broke the stillness.

  “Feel like a swim?”

  “A swim? I don’t think so. I don’t have anything to wear.” She gave a nervous giggle.

  “It doesn’t matter; no one can see us in the dark.” She heard him removing his clothes. “Come on.” He grabbed her hand.

  “Dick, please, my clothes.” She shrieked as he started pulling her towards some wooden steps leading down to the sand-covered water’s edge. “Don’t,” she laughin
gly pleaded.

  “Come on, take your dress off and leave the rest on if you want.”

  “I couldn’t.” It was tempting though, as the dark velvet water looked very inviting. Dare she? Under Dick’s urging, she gave way. This would be her first swim of the summer. An omen, perhaps? She could never really love Dick, because she had given her heart to Blair, but she liked him.

  “Hey, come on, slow coach.” He released her hand, and she heard him splashing about. Slipping out of her dress, she hesitated. How wicked, swimming naked, but who would know? With shaking hands, she disposed of her undergarments before her nerve gave out and she changed her mind.

  The warm water lapped against her bare skin. “Dick!” she shrieked as he made a grab for her leg. “No, please! The baby…”

  “Sorry, I forgot.” He scooped water into her face and they started frolicking around like carefree children. Their laughter floated on the still night air.

  “This is fun. We swam in the Aegean Sea on Gallipoli and didn’t even worry about the artillery shells raining down on us.”

  The water reached to her waist. When he rested his hands on either shoulder, she tried to pull back.

  “No.” His fingers tentatively moved over her breasts, before fanning out across her slightly swollen stomach.

  “You’re beautiful; your baby will be, too. Can you feel it moving around yet?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “I’ve given you a hell of a time, haven’t I?”

  “Sometimes, but we’ve been happy, too.”

  “Laurie, if something happened to me, you’d be free.”

  She had the strangest sensation he was trying to convey a message. Fear shivered all the way through her. He must have felt it, because he said, “You’re getting cold.”

  “I am, a little.”

  “Let’s go back.” His hand still clasped hers as they left the water and made for their clothes. They did not speak, and she heard him dressing as she fumbled with her own garments. “Ready?” he queried.

  “Yes.”

  They walked side by side, but he made no effort to touch her again. When they came to the verandah, Dick handed her a white rose bud without saying a word. She held it in her palm, inhaling the perfume. The light spilling out from the house fell onto his face. It looked as white as the bloom in her hand.

  Chapter Twelve

  One morning a few days after her shopping trip, Laurie awoke and found herself alone in bed. This was not an unusual occurrence, as Dick often woke early and went riding.

  After eating breakfast with Mrs. McKinlay, she wandered towards the stables. Even though riding was out of the question now, each day without fail she took Bolinda Vale a treat. One of the young grooms exercised her, and he, like Laurie, was the little filly’s devoted slave.

  Not being able to ride was one of her greatest regrets. How she envied Dick, who went out regularly, sometimes staying away for hours at a time. None of them begrudged him this, the only thing that eased his troubled mind.

  By dinnertime her worry escalated to frightening proportions. He never missed their evening meal. Some of her anxiety transmitted itself to George.

  “I’ll ride out and search for him one we’ve finished eating.”

  As they prepared to sit down to a meal she wouldn’t be able to eat, urgent hammering on the door interrupted them.

  “Can’t a man eat his dinner in peace? George growled as he left the room to see who it was. He returned within a couple of minutes. His face was white and ravaged. He seemed to have shrunk in stature. In seconds he had aged twenty years.

  “There’s been an accident.”

  “Dick!” Laurie and Mrs. McKinlay screamed his name in unison.

  “One of the Coolibah men came over. They say Dick killed Helen Sinclair.”

  Mrs. McKinlay fainted completely away.

  To stop herself from screaming, Laurie pushed her fist into her mouth up to the second knuckle and bit down hard.

  “Look after her, Laurie. I have things to do,” George said as he carried his wife to the bedroom and laid her on the bed.

  Hettie came rushing in, wild-eyed. “What happened, Mr. McKinlay?”

  “From what I can gather, they’re saying Dick killed Helen Sinclair and then ran off and disappeared into the bush. The Coolibah men are out hunting for him now.”

  “Let me come with you. He might need me,” Laurie begged.

  “No, stay here. They’ve gone after Dick with guns. Blair’s out of his mind with grief. I’ve got to go over. They’ll shoot my boy down like a dog if I’m not there,” he gabbled. He was so upset the words came out in a guttural whisper. He hurried off, leaving Laurie moaning like a tortured animal, while Hettie tended to an unconscious Mrs. McKinlay.

  Why had Dick gone over to Coolibah? Why would he kill Helen, when he barely knew her? What of Blair? He would be devastated, and so would Uncle Richard and Aunt Jane. She wrapped her arms across her body and rocked backwards and forwards with grief.

  Poor Dick! Had something made his mind snap completely? What could Helen have said or done to push him over the edge? Perhaps in his crazy, mixed-up mind he thought he was helping her. Remembering the other night, and the white rosebud, she trembled.

  “Oh, God,” she moaned, holding her head in her hands.

  The hours dragged by and only sheer exhaustion allowed her to doze off now and again in one of the armchairs.

  “Laurie, Laurie.” Dick called out to her. No, it wasn’t Dick. It was Danny. He stood so close she could almost reach out and touch him, but her arms were weighted down with lead. His face was shrouded in a swirling mist, and as he started drifting away, he raised his hand in a farewell salute.

  Her clothes were drenched with perspiration; she felt as breathless as if she had run a mile. Perhaps she was also losing her mind?

  When Hettie brought in some breakfast, the smell of the fried eggs and bacon had vomit rising up in her throat. There was also a strong aroma of thyme permeating the room.

  “Just tea, thanks. I couldn’t eat anything. Do you always use thyme in your cooking?”

  “Thyme?” Hettie stared at Laurie as if she were mad. “Not since the war started. Mrs. McKinlay won’t allow it in the house.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “It grows wild on Gallipoli.”

  “Oh.” Laurie did not drink the tea because her hands shook so much they couldn’t hold the cup.

  When George returned in the mid morning, he had turned into a haggard stranger.

  “What happened?” Laurie rushed at him. “Did you find Dick?”

  “Not yet.” His voice sounded flat and muffled. He was a broken man.

  “Where is he?”

  “He would have taken to the mountains. I hope they never find him.” He slumped in a chair and tears rolled down his cheeks. It was terrible, watching this strong man cry. “They said, they said…”

  “What did they say, Mr. McKinlay?”

  “Helen was…” His face contorted. “Raped.”

  “No,” Laurie screamed. Her legs buckled, and she sank to a kneeling position on the floor. “Dick couldn’t.” Bile rose up in her throat until her mouth turned sour with it. “He couldn’t. Dick couldn’t.”

  “Blair found her raped and beaten.”

  Laurie tried to speak, but nothing came out as George babbled like a lunatic.

  “With her dying breath, she accused Dick. The war turned my boy into a savage. The police and black trackers are out searching for him now, with some of the locals. I have to get back. I came home for a fresh horse and to gather up some men.” He staggered to his feet. “They’ll hunt him down like a wild dog if I’m not there.”

  “Let me come, too.”

  “No, you mustn’t, Laurie. Remember your condition.”

  “Please, I have to do something. I can’t stand around waiting like this. I’ll go out of my mind.”

  After he left, it was impossible to stay at the homestead doing nothing. She m
ust find Dick. Where would he go? Born and raised in the district, he would know all the best hiding places and could live off the land for weeks.

  She forced herself not to think of Helen, so willful and beautiful, having her life so brutally snuffed out. Rape. The very sound of the word was horrible, yet it proved Dick’s innocence.

  She saddled Bolinda Vale herself. She had to find Dick before the others did. Against a rampaging mob, hunting him down like a rabid dog, he stood no chance. Instinct led her towards the waterfall where he had taken her months before, in what seemed like another lifetime. His favorite place, where he sought refuge from the rest of the world. Hunted and desperate, would he go there?

  She urged Bolinda Vale into a fast trot. The daisies and everlastings were trampled underfoot as she cut straight through the bush. The spiky red bottlebrush scraped her face as she passed by, but the pain of this couldn’t be compared to the agony in her heart.

  She met up with George and the men from Coolibah. Gaunt and haggard, Blair was hardly recognizable.

  “You haven’t found him yet?” She directed the question to Wally Morgan, but Blair answered.

  “No.” His voice sounded so flat as to be dead. Except for his eyes and the dark stubble on his cheeks and chin, his face appeared colorless.

  “Dick didn’t do it. He couldn’t, Blair. He just couldn’t.” He did not answer. “What about Uncle Richard? Has he been notified?”

  “Yes. Everything needing to be done has been, except for catching that mongrel you married.”

  Gunfire in the distance had them urging their mounts forward. They came to Dick’s special place, where several horses were already tethered.

  “We’ve got him bailed up.” The police constable brandished a rifle, and Laurie glanced around fearfully. Armed police and civilians milled around. A shot came from near the waterfall, immediately answered by a volley from the police guns.

  “Stop it, stop it.” She dismounted and rushed up to the Sergeant in charge. “Let me talk to him.”