by Di Morrissey
‘There’s a bit more to the story,’ said Sally gently. ‘We’re hoping you can fill in some of the gaps, Mum. It’s to do with Grandmother Stella, in a way. You know the painting we love with the forest and mushrooms and the odd little lantern flower? Well, the people at the Gardens have identified the flower.’
‘How exciting. What is it?’
‘It’s called a Thismia, known as a Fairy Lantern. Rare and endemic to Tassie, apparently. Grows underground and only pops up to flower for a short time then disappears. It grows on the fungi and rotting wood, tree roots and stuff.’
‘It’s never been named, so the Botanical Gardens staff said it could possibly be named after Stella,’ said Jessica.
‘Oh, my. I don’t know what to say. My mother would have been so proud and delighted,’ she said, sounding a little emotional.
‘Mum,’ Sally said tentatively, ‘Jess and I have been trying to work out a connection between Arcadia and that house at Shelter Bay, Seawinds. There was a mention of it in those things of Stella’s that we found. You said you hadn’t heard of Seawinds or the Broadbents,’ she added. ‘Is that right?’
Mollie looked at her, frowning with concentration. ‘Did I? Broadbent rings a bell . . . Of course! Hilda. Hilda Broadbent. Dad’s first wife. She passed away long before he met my mother. Afraid I don’t know anything about her, though. Why?’
Jessica and Sally exchanged a glance. ‘Well, we don’t know all the details yet, but we found out that Arcadia used to be owned by the Broadbents and they weren’t happy when Hilda left it to Grandpa. Hilda’s relations, Gordon Broadbent and an older woman, are still living at Seawinds, and it was Broadbent’s four-wheel drive that followed Jess and me. It’s registered in his name.’
‘Oh no, Sally, that’s terrible.’ Mollie put her hand to her mouth. She looked concerned and puzzled. ‘Hilda and my father never had children. I came along as a bit of a surprise after Dad and Mother had been married quite a while. I sometimes regretted that I didn’t have siblings, as my father was not the type to take me on camping trips or things like that. I realised he was older than my friends’ fathers and also a bit formal, stuffy, I suppose. But he was a good man.’ She stopped and looked deep in thought.
‘So you never met any of the Broadbents?’ asked Sally.
‘Goodness, no. I only remember the name Hilda Broadbent. Old Mr Stanthorpe, the family solicitor, would have known more. He handled the paperwork and estate matters when Dad died,’ Mollie said. She stared from Sally to Jessica. ‘Why are you both so interested in all this? Is it because this Gordon Broadbent seems to have cropped up in our lives?’
‘Well, it’s partly that but, actually, Mum, it’s like I was saying to Toby last night, I’ve just never thought much about our history – the family, and who else has lived here. I don’t know much about Grandpa’s life. Like, where did his family come from before he married Hilda? Who actually built Arcadia?’ She turned to Jessica. ‘This is the first time I ever considered that. It’s always simply been our place, but it turns out it wasn’t really ours at all until Grandpa inherited it.’
‘Mollie, you mentioned the old family paperwork. Just wondering, is it in a safe or something?’ Jessica asked. ‘If you needed to look at it, say.’
‘Some of it’s up in the attic.’ Mollie sighed. ‘I know I should go through it properly one day. I did put mouse bait up there and lots of camphor, so I’m sure it’s all fine,’ she added. ‘So tell me more about the Broadbents who are living in Seawinds now, and why that man might have followed you?’
‘We think they’re developing a business or doing scientific research that is somehow linked with the old forest here . . .’ Seeing Mollie’s startled expression Jessica added, ‘With the fungi. There are some rare mushrooms that grow wild in old-growth forests, including in the Far Forest.’
Mollie shook her head and looked concerned. ‘So, what’s led to you finding out all of this? Was it those old letters or whatever it was in the trunk, and Mother’s art collection?’
‘I suppose so,’ said Sally quickly, with a smile. ‘Why don’t we wait and talk to Dan about the fungi? He knows a lot more than we do. Maybe there could be new opportunities to spin off and develop something ourselves and help raise awareness of the precious plants in the old forests.’
Mollie didn’t look convinced. ‘I think the truffles are enough. And there’s that huge patch of turmeric you and Toby have planted. What next, for goodness sake, Sally?’ she asked.
‘Oh, that’s to help out our dairy farmer friends. They’re making kefir, a fermented yoghurt drink, and they add curcumin from turmeric. Supposed to be very good for you,’ Sally said.
‘I’m happy with plain billy tea, myself.’ Mollie stood up rather quickly. ‘Thanks for morning tea, Jess. I’d better go back to my spreadsheets.’
When Mollie had returned to her computer, Sally sighed quietly and said, ‘I don’t think she knows much about the family. Plus I have the feeling she is getting a bit upset about it all.’
‘I think we need another visit to the attic,’ said Jessica. ‘See if we can find the old papers and documents Mollie stored there. Do you think that would be okay?’
‘Yes, I was thinking that too. I’m sure Mum wouldn’t mind if we looked for them,’ said Sally. ‘Also, I’m keen to go through Stella’s art again to see if we can find any more paintings of the Thismia plant for the people at the Botanical Gardens. I’d love to see her work recognised.’
‘Well, let’s ask your mum if that’s all right with her,’ said Jessica. ‘And we just might find something else about those Broadbent boys while we’re at it.’
*
After dinner, as Sally, Katie and Toby were reading bedtime stories and Mollie was sitting with a drink and chatting on the phone to a friend, Jessica prowled slowly around the cluttered but quaint sitting room that had once been Stella’s studio. Jessica, like Sally, felt the presence of a young Stella; the bride, the artist, the modest wife, the free spirit with a special relationship with a wild owl, and a passionate sprite of the forest who’d swum naked with her lover, made passionate love in a secret cave, and who remained unknown to them all, even her only child. Jessica thought of her own maternal grandmother, and simply couldn’t picture the stolid, wholesome, practical woman doing anything so exotic as Stella had.
But then, how well did one ever know the vibrant younger life once lived by people who now sat quietly, lost in the past, in the faded shell of their old bodies? They knew their place was to not speak out, talk about the old times, how it was ‘back then’. No one was really interested, nor could anyone imagine these frail, fragile people ever being wild and passionate, carefree and hilarious, brave and careless.
Somehow Stella had transcended this. Perhaps because Jessica and Sally had stumbled into her world in the Far Forest, and had been able to see her as a beautiful, talented young woman, trapped in a conventional life of that time, married to a stolid older man and living in an isolated corner at the bottom of Tasmania. Mollie knew none of this. Mothers always protect their daughters. Jessica had the feeling, however, that had Stella been alive, she would have heartily shared all with Sally, her granddaughter.
Jessica could feel Stella’s pain, and had caught a glimmer of how she must have felt. Two generations later, Jessica had walked out of her unhappy marriage, freed herself, and was starting over, options that would have been difficult to the point of impossible for Stella. The cost would have been too great.
In the charming room where the perfume of flowers always lingered, Jessica stood and gazed around at what had been Stella’s studio, and, she suspected, a place where she’d spent a lot of time.
On the bookcase was a framed photo of Stella at her easel. Jessica picked it up and looked at it closely, comparing it with the more gracious and spacious room today. Its 1930s décor was definitely shabby chic – there was the chintz sofa, which Mollie had re-
covered, a favourite chair and a rocker with an embroidered silk shawl flung across it. There was the old chest that was now in the attic, books, art supplies, paintings stacked up and hanging on the wall, including the one of the owl in the forest, which was still hanging in the same position. While all the art paraphernalia had been removed, the room still had a distinctive look and atmosphere. As Jessica stared at the old black-and-white picture, she noticed in a dark corner a collection of frames stacked against a chinoiserie-style cabinet.
‘What’re you doing?’ Sally joined her.
‘Admiring this old photo from Stella’s time. I love this Chinese cabinet here. Now where is that these days?’
‘I can’t recall. I hadn’t really noticed it. Hope we still have it. I don’t think it was in the attic.’
‘No, it wasn’t. In the photo it’s almost completely covered by all those heavy carved frames in front of it.’
‘I’ll ask Mum about it. She should know where it is now. Perhaps she stored more of Stella’s things in it.’
*
As it was such a still and sunny day, they set up lunch in the arbour next to the rose garden, awaiting Dan and Terry James. Sally looked at Jessica, noticing she had gone to a bit more trouble than usual with her hair and make-up, even though it was subtle and natural looking.
Dan held the car door open as Terry climbed slowly out of the passenger seat and gasped as he looked around at the neat rows of trees on the hill, the tended paddocks and the front rose garden. ‘You’ve done so much! It looks wonderful. What would Mum and Dad think! It’s even more beautiful than I remember,’ he said as Mollie gave him a teary hug. ‘So many memories, eh, Mollie,’ he said quietly.
‘Yes. Weren’t we lucky to grow up here?’
Jessica hugged Dan and they held hands as Sally gave Terry a warm welcome. When she introduced Katie, Terry handed her a gift, which she shyly thanked him for and promptly sat on the ground to open.
‘Here’s Toby,’ Mollie said, introducing the two men. ‘Hello, Dan, it’s good to see you again. Come on, let’s all go and sit down,’ she added. ‘Terry, you can go and freshen up if you like, not a lot has changed indoors.’
‘You relax, Mum, Jess and I will bring out the food. Toby, can you do the drinks?’ said Sally.
‘Mummy, Mummy, Granny . . .’ Katie came running. ‘Look . . .’
‘Oh my gosh, what have you there?’ said Mollie as Katie climbed onto her lap. Mollie looked at Terry, tears in her eyes. ‘Well I never . . . where did you find it?’
‘Stumbled across it at a craft market on the weekend, just after Dan asked me if I’d like to come here. So I bought it for little Katie, thinking of you and Mrs H, Mollie,’ Terry said.
‘It’s Nyx!’ cried Katie, holding up the handmade knitted owl, who wore a jacket with jaunty feathers, and had wire spectacles on his beak and alert, glass eyes sewn on his white face.
‘Terry, that’s wonderful! How sweet of you,’ said Sally.
After lunch Toby stood up and stretched. ‘I have to get a few jobs done this afternoon. Will you come and help me, Katie?’ She nodded and, hugging Nyx, walked over and took her dad’s hand. ‘We’ll be back later for more of that cake you made, Mollie,’ Toby added.
Sally smiled at them. ‘Good girl, Katie. You’re Dad’s helper,’ she said, and then turned to Terry. ‘Do you remember the painting my grandmother did of some fronds and a purple flower among the mushrooms in the forest?’
‘I do. And now we know that it’s newly described. Denyse was very thrilled about it. They’re very keen to see the whole collection, in case there might be something else,’ said Terry.
‘It’s not just that it’s a newly identified plant, but they’re also interested in the place where it was growing and the fungi there,’ said Sally.
Terry nodded. ‘That’d be right. I hear there’s a lot more investigation going on with fungi. Other people are getting on to it.’
‘Yes, that’s true. Terry, have you ever been to a place called Seawinds?’ Dan asked.
‘Not personally. I just heard about it from Mum.’ He paused. ‘The family who lived there was a bit difficult, according to my mother. Though Doc Holland kept in touch with them. These old colonial families have histories, of course. You knew Seawinds was a smuggler’s den? Not sure when the family friction came about. Could go back to convict days. Those old families hold grudges,’ said Terry.
‘For generations,’ added Mollie. ‘My father talked about families not speaking to each other over incidents that went so far back they couldn’t recall why or what had happened. Silly, isn’t it?’
They were quiet for a while, enjoying the sunshine, then Mollie said, ‘Terry, did my father ever talk about his first wife?’ She surprised Sally with her directness.
‘No. He never mentioned her that I recall,’ Terry said gently. ‘But as you know my mother was very close to your family for so long, very much a confidante. Almost one of the family in some ways, and everyone knew she would never gossip or reveal anything she was privy to in this house.’ He paused. ‘Though in later years she did share things with me, when I was looking after her and managing the place.’
‘So what do you remember your mother telling you about Hilda?’ prodded Jessica.
‘Hilda Broadbent lived here at Arcadia with her parents. From what I remember Mum telling me, her brother Joseph lived at Seawinds. When Hilda and Dr H got married Dr H moved here, and he was the one who hired my mum as the housekeeper. Mum wouldn’t have known Hilda’s parents very well as they passed on not long after Dr H married Hilda. Apparently Hilda was never a strong type, always rather sickly,’ he said. After a pause, he added, ‘There was some issue over the two houses, I know that.’
‘Which houses?’ asked Mollie with a frown.
‘The two properties owned by the Broadbent family: Seawinds and Arcadia.’
‘We found out the other day that Hilda bequeathed Arcadia to Dr Holland,’ said Jessica. ‘It was owned by the Broadbents before that.’
‘Indeed. And that caused some friction with Hilda’s family, I believe,’ Terry said.
Jessica and Sally exchanged glances.
‘Mollie, where did your father live before he came here?’ Jess asked.
‘Oh, gosh, I don’t know. His family were in Melbourne and he graduated from Melbourne Uni. That’s all I recall.’
‘Compared with Melbourne, Burridge must have been a bit of a backwater when he moved here in the 1920s,’ said Sally.
‘And it still is, relatively, thank goodness,’ said Mollie. ‘My father did some work in Hobart as well as setting up his practice here. That was where he met my mother. Anyway, what’s this got to do with anything?’
‘Well, as far as I know, Joseph Broadbent owned Seawinds, and when he died, it passed down to the two boys,’ said Terry. ‘Mum said the older one got married and had a son,’ he added, ‘but no one knows what happened to the other brother. Dr Holland kept in touch with their father Joseph in a vague way. Mum said they never visited here, but the doc and Mrs H visited Seawinds once or twice. Mind you, Mum said Mrs H didn’t like Seawinds at all.’
‘Oh, why was that?’ Mollie asked.
‘I don’t know, but she came back rather rattled, I think was the word Mum used.’
‘I can believe that, it seemed a creepy place . . .’ said Jessica.
‘That snippy lady who opened the door must be the wife of one of the brothers then,’ said Sally. ‘It’s a lot to take in.’
‘What do you think that Gordon Broadbent is up to?’ said Mollie.
They all looked at Dan.
Dan explained as best he could. ‘We can’t prove anything yet, but it seems to me the family at Seawinds, the Broadbents, might have kept a finger in the pie here, and didn’t want the Hollands to know that the fungi in the forest on this property could be valuable,’
he said.
‘You mean they’re the ones who’ve been stealing them?’ said Mollie. ‘And our truffles!’
‘I’d say they’ve been raiding the Arcadia forest for maybe two generations,’ said Dan. ‘They’ve set up quite a sophisticated processing plant at Seawinds. Way ahead of its time. Someone studied mycology or stumbled over the fungi here and the research has been brought forward into the twenty-first century.’
‘What!’ exclaimed Mollie. ‘And neither my father nor mother knew? Did your mother know?’ Mollie turned to Terry.
‘I would say not, or she would have told me,’ Terry said, and rubbed his eyes.
‘We have to stop them!’ exclaimed Jessica. ‘It’s not fair!’
‘Let’s take a break first,’ said Mollie, shaking her head. ‘My head is in a tailspin. And you probably need a rest, Terry.’
‘Yes, I’m feeling tired. Perhaps too much thinking and talking for an old man like me.’ He smiled.
Dan glanced at Jessica. ‘I’d love to see the forest again before we drive back.’
‘You’re not going back this afternoon, are you? Stay for dinner, stay the night. There’s a spare room in the house and another in the cottage,’ said Mollie. ‘You can see your old room there, Terry! It’s been so special catching up. I’d love to talk more later,’ she added.
‘Yes, do,’ said Sally. ‘Mum’s enjoying this. We all are. And Toby has been busy this afternoon, he’d love to sit down and chat with you over dinner.’
‘Sounds good to me. Thank you, Mollie. What do you think, Terry?’ said Dan.
‘Well, if it’s no trouble. And I wouldn’t mind a bit of an afternoon nap.’
After Jessica and Dan had helped Terry to get settled they walked into the rose garden and Jess sat on the wooden seat, stretched her legs out, and smiled up at Dan.
‘On the drive coming down, Terry told me how much it means to him to come here again. I’m so glad Mollie asked us to stay the night,’ he said, sitting down beside her, their legs touching. Jessica felt the solid strength of his leg against hers, and wanted to lean against him, put her head on his shoulder, but she remained as she was.