Alexander was frowning heavily. His wife shook slightly.
Jeff spoke. ‘I hope it’s important. This is our family Christmas, after all.’ He put a hand on Janet’s shoulder.
His message was clear. Be careful Simone. I’m a married man. Don’t put me in the manure.
‘When you hear what I have to say, I’m sure you’ll understand why Ross invited me.’ That’s the way to go, she thought. Remind them I’m only here at the request of a family member. Ross, she noticed, did not sit comfortably with her tactics but she ignored him and pressed ahead.
‘As you know, Jeff, I met Ross after you contacted me to say you were worried about him.’ Simone looked at Alexander and Alison. ‘And I believe the concerns were shared by others within the family.’ Alison looked at the floor.
‘I’m happy to say Ross was able to allay any concerns I might have had. And in the process I became friends with him, and with June.’
How was she going? She took a sip of water and licked her lips. Her audience was on guard. She felt like the family doctor, called in to deliver the bad news.
‘At the same time I was seeing Ross, I was doing a research project and met a dear old man. He told me his story and asked for my help. I now believe his story and your story are linked.’
‘What!’ Alexander rose from his chair. ‘Who’s this fellow, and what’s he got to do with us?’
‘Hold on, Dad,’ said Ross. ‘Wait until Simone explains the connection.’
‘It had better be good.’ Alexander slumped back. His hand trembled.
‘The man’s name is Baxter Moncur.’
‘Means nothing to me,’ said Jeff. ‘Dad, what about you?’
‘No idea.’ But Alexander was struggling with something, she could see that.
‘Mr Basset, I’ve recently been to England and met your sister, Peggy, and your mother. What I mean is - I think that’s who they are.’
He’s staring right through her. He doesn’t want to hear this.
‘Alex does have family in England’. Alison was looking at her husband.
‘Is this them?’ Simone fished out the photos from her bag.
Ross handed them to his father.
‘Where did you get these?’ There was no mistaking the malice in his voice.
‘Your niece gave them to me, Mr Basset. Victoria, Peggy’s daughter.’
Not much was said while the photos did the rounds.
‘So these are our cousins?’ said Ross, pointing to Graeme and Vickie.
It was Alison who answered. ‘Yes, they’ve never been out here.’
‘Why haven’t you mentioned them?’ Seddon turned towards his father. Clearly, he hadn’t been told or had forgotten his cousins were in boarding school when Peggy and Claude visited.
‘Didn’t see the need. I haven’t had much to do with Peggy over the years.’
‘You didn’t see the need?’
‘Don’t be too hard on your father,’ said Alison. ‘The English relations aren’t really interested in us.’
‘But they came out,’ exclaimed Ross. ‘I remember the ship.’
‘Just one visit. And that was difficult.’
‘Why?’ Jeff was starting to get edgy. She recognised the tone. He had used it on her when she did anything he disapproved of. The Beaufort Street hotel came to mind.
Again, Alison spoke. ‘I asked them about Kenny. They clammed up. Your father got upset with me.’
‘Kenny?’ This came from Seddon.
‘Alison, will you shut up.’ Alexander grabbed her wrist. He sounded furious.
‘Hey, Dad.’ Jeff moved towards his father but Alexander stood up and looked as if he would leave.
‘Dad.’ Ross barred the way. ‘Dad, I think you owe us. We need to hear the truth.’
‘Get me a whisky.’ His father sat down again.
‘Bring a few glasses,’ called out Seddon, as Alison left the room.
The temperature went down a degree after the Scotch was distributed. Only Janet abstained.
‘Perhaps Simone can finish her story and we can leave Kenny for the moment.’
Alison was attempting to defuse her husband. Simone looked at her and felt a whiff of sympathy. The poor woman was caught between a rock and a hard place. What had Ross said? My mother always kow-tows to my father. She’s scared to death of him but would never admit it. My disclosures won’t help the cause, Simone thought. Am I really doing the right thing here? Alexander wore a face like thunder. Jeff – she daren’t look at Jeff. Seddon had his mouth open. But June was smiling encouragement. What the hell. Better get it all out in the open. That’s what Ross wants. She swirled the whisky over the ice, admiring the intensity of the golden glow.
‘What else is there?’ Jeff was impatient.
She took a long swig and put down the glass.
‘Mr Basset, I went to England trying to locate Alice. I had no idea she was your mother. That’s purely coincidence. An amazing coincidence.’
She paused. He was looking at the ceiling. ‘Mr Basset, it was Baxter who asked me to set out on this quest. Alice was – is – his wife.’
You could have heard the proverbial pin drop. After a prolonged silence, Jeff came out swinging.
‘That sounds absurd. Dad’s father died when he was small boy.’ He looked at Alexander. ‘That’s right, isn’t it?’
‘That’s what my mother told me.’
Jeff turned towards her. She could see the lawyer rising to the surface. ‘What makes you so sure this bloke is for real? He could be some shyster on the make.’
‘He’s for real, Jeff. I have no doubt he’s your grandfather.’
‘Didn’t you say his name was Moncur?’ Seddon’s mind had been working overtime.
‘That’s right. Baxter Moncur. He married your grandmother, Alice Bailey.’
‘So where does Basset come into it?’ This came from Alexander. Clearly he had no idea.
Simone outlined the breakdown of the marriage, Baxter’s incarceration, and Alice’s flight to Melbourne. ‘She was angry and ashamed so she changed your surname.’
‘That’s impossible. I have my birth certificate.’
‘I’m afraid it’s a forgery.’ She reached down and retrieved her bag. Before leaving for abroad, she arranged for Baxter to sign the requisite forms and draw a money order payable to the Registrar-General. Certified copies of the original birth certificates were posted to him while she was away.
‘Have a look at these.’
Jeff scrutinised the documents and handed them to his father. Alexander had gone pale.
‘So our name should be Moncur not Basset?’
‘I don’t know the legalities, Seddon. Jeff might have a better idea. But I do know there is an old man who would dearly like to meet you.’
Her words were cut short. Alexander clutched at his throat and appeared to be gagging. Alison shrieked. Jeff and Seddon closed in. ‘What’s happening, Dad, what’s wrong?’
‘Get a doctor,’ screamed Janet. ‘He’s having a heart attack!’
26
It was a longer lunch than usual and he napped for most of the afternoon, intermittently dreaming of Alice who sometimes looked like Angela – or was it Angela who looked like Alice? Faces blurred and faded. Suddenly he was with Jennie in the country, sitting by the fire. He felt warm and clammy. Was this a dream? A knock on the door startled him.
‘Who’s that?’
‘Matron.’
He remembered. Most of the staff had left early – to join their families or to do whatever they planned for the rest of Christmas Day. The matron had no family as far as he knew. She hardly ever left the premises.
‘Can you come outside?’ She was calling him. Ordering him, really.
He struggled into his trousers, hitched the braces and tucked in his singlet. It was hot and a shirt seemed superfluous.
Thompson stood under the shade of the porch. Somebody was with her.
‘He’s come from the airport,’ s
aid the matron, ‘and says he wants to speak with you.’ Her face showed disapproval. It was unusual for him to have visitors, especially unannounced, and on Christmas Day to boot. The man carried a small suitcase. He was of medium build and looked about fifty. Baxter saw he was sweating profusely.
‘I’ll leave you both to it then.’ Thompson continued to look suspicious but he nodded to her and she strode back to the office.
‘Sit down,’ said Baxter, pointing to a couple of cane chairs lined up against the outside wall of the dormitory. ‘Did she offer you a drink?’
The stranger shook his head. He was breathing heavily. Baxter re-entered his room and returned with a jug of water and glasses. ‘Sorry, I haven’t any lemon.’
His visitor accepted the drink.
‘Jim Townsend was in touch with me.’ He removed a letter from his pocket.
‘You’re a friend of Jim?’
‘More of a relation. He was married to my Aunt Grace.’
Baxter flinched. ‘Your Aunt Grace?’
The man took his arm. ‘I’m Ken Basset. I’m your son. The youngest one.’
His mouth fell open. ‘You’re Kenny? Is that true? You’re really little Kenny?’ Baxter felt his heart pound. His body quivered and shook. He saw the tears form in the man’s eyes.
‘I’m really Kenny. Two days ago when I got this letter from Jim there was no stopping me. I managed to get a flight over here.’ He was crying now. ‘Baxter – Dad – I’m so happy to have found you. We were told you were dead.’
Baxter choked. He found it difficult to speak. Kenny still had his arm. For a moment or two they stared at one another.
‘Did Jim tell you what happened?’
‘He gave me some idea.’
‘And you wanted to see me?’ Baxter was having trouble believing it. He had almost given up hope and now one of his children had materialised on his doorstep.
‘More than anything, once I found out. We were told you were dead,’ Kenny repeated, as if in a trance. ‘Why did my mother do that?’
Baxter heard the anguish. He shook his head sorrowfully. ‘She had her reasons, you mustn’t blame her.’
They sat together for an hour. He filled his son in on his life, playing down the hard times. Kenny did not interrupt until he was finished and then the questions came.
‘Why did it have to be so tough? Your punishment, I mean. You may have stuffed up but you didn’t deserve this.’ He looked angry now. ‘And we didn’t deserve to lose a father.’
Baxter sighed. ‘You didn’t. But we can’t erase the past.’ He looked at Kenny and felt his chest heave. ‘At least you’re alive. We’re both alive. Tell me more about yourself. There’s a lot I want to know. Do you have a wife? Children?’
His son looked at him. He was shaking. ‘My life has been very different.’
‘How do you mean, ‘different’?’
‘I’m gay, Dad.’
‘Gay?’ Baxter tried to take in his son’s meaning.
‘Yes, gay. Homosexual, if you like. Hardly anyone knows. Probably my brother and sister have some sort of idea. Maybe my mother, though she’d never admit it. And Jim might have guessed.’
Baxter felt confused. ‘Do you mean you prefer men?’
Kenny did not immediately reply. ‘It’s always been like that, Dad. I’ve tried to keep it a secret but I don’t want that any longer. I have to live with who I am.’
A crow carked in the distance. The breeze ruffled Baxter’s hair. On the outside, all was quiet but his stomach reverberated like a washing machine.
‘Can you handle that? I’m still your son.’ Kenny sounded defiant but his voice was low.
Baxter took a deep breath. ‘I don’t care what your tastes are like. Until an hour ago I had nobody.’ He grasped Kenny’s hand. ‘And I’m very happy you came.’
Simone stayed with them until the ambulance arrived. Alexander had passed out on the floor of the lounge room. Amid the hysterics and the recriminations, Seddon sprang into action. He was trained as a surf lifesaver and tried to resuscitate his father. After a few minutes, Alexander opened his eyes and sipped some water. Later, in hospital, they checked him over. His heart was fine. Fainted, that’s all.
Ross rang her in the evening.
‘I’m in the shit with everyone. And Jeff’s really pissed off with you.’
Simone wasn’t surprised. Had he been able to sue her, her ex-lover would have given it serious consideration.
‘What about Baxter? Will they want to see him?’
‘Not now. We’ll have to wait until they calm down.’
‘What about you?’
There was no hesitation on the other end of the line. ‘As soon as I can. Should I make an appointment at the Home?’
‘I don’t think there’s any need. I can go there with you tomorrow if you like.’
She heard him chuckle. ‘It takes a lot to pull me away from the cricket. But meeting my long-lost grandfather doesn’t happen every day.’
He was talking about the Boxing Day Test, a sacrosanct celebration of the Australian summer. Thommo and Lillee were demolishing the Poms. Even she, a cricket-loather, knew that. Across the nation the menfolk, nursing their hangovers and their plum pudding-enhanced bellies, would be slumped in front of the television watching white-clad figures chase a small leather ball around a huge stadium. Commentators would drone on and on, filling countless homes with their inanities. The language of cricket was arcane and decidedly odd. Occasionally, someone would ‘bowl a maiden over’. The crowd would clap politely. She was perpetually baffled. What a strange game, incomprehensible really.
They decided to meet at Sunset. ‘Ten o’clock,’ she proposed. ‘In time for morning tea.’
When they checked into the office, the matron looked at Ross. ‘Another relative? They’re all coming out of the woodwork.’
‘What?’
‘He had a chap come to see him. His son, it turns out.’
‘My dad?’ Ross shook his head. ‘No way.’
They would have to ask Baxter. He was on his favourite bench, his back turned and lost in contemplation. Simone could feel her excitement. This was a moment worth waiting for and she felt privileged to be part of it.
He must have heard their footsteps for he twisted and looked over his shoulder.
‘Someone to see you, Baxter. Your grandson, Ross.’
They shook hands in that formal way men do. Neither spoke but she could see the old man was overjoyed and his grandson was equally moved.
‘I will leave both of you in peace. But who came to visit you, Baxter?’
He explained about Kenny, leaving out none of the details. ‘No more secrets,’ he said. ‘No more secrets.’
She left them sitting together, drinking tea and chatting in an animated fashion. Thank you, Jim Townsend, she said under her breath. You’ve unlocked a few doors.
The day was warming up and she headed down to the beach. June was already on the sand, oiling her legs. They talked about the debacle at the Basset house, and Simone brought her up to speed on Baxter and Kenny.
‘Why do you think Ross’s father is so antagonistic?’ Simone had thought a lot about Alexander. Why had he reacted so strongly? He was merely a two-year old when Baxter committed his indiscretions and left their home. Alice might have indoctrinated him but did that explain his attitude? After all, Kenny’s first impulse was to contact Baxter. Why did Alexander take the opposite tack?
June drew a circle in the sand. ‘He’s probably feeling a whole range of emotions. It’s been a huge shock. He might feel a bit of a fool for being kept so long in the dark. That could account for some of his anger.’
‘But yesterday in the lounge room. He scared the pants off everyone. Collapsing – it seems like an over-reaction.’
June glanced sharply at her. ‘He and Alison live in a bit of a bubble. They don’t like any disturbance. He’s probably overwhelmed. And yes, overreacting.’
‘You could be right. Hopefully
he’ll come round when he’s had a chance to digest the news.’
‘What’s Kenny like?’
Simone conveyed what she knew. ‘Baxter sounded quite positive. It must have been a shock for him – Kenny arriving out of the blue and promptly telling his father he was gay.’
June’s eyes widened. ‘That could explain why Alex is so threatened. He’s totally homophobic. He must know about Kenny, or at least have his suspicions.’
The more Simone thought about that the more sense it made. Did Peggy share the same views? And Alice, did she know? She raised the three of them in Melbourne. What was it Jim had said? ‘That Kenny, he’s a funny one.’ Alice must have gleaned something or perhaps she was in complete denial. Kenny’s youthful behaviour was certainly different. He was the artistic one, gadding about while his siblings moved towards respectability. There would have been precious little tolerance, particularly during those hard days in the rough inner city suburbs. Peggy and Alex may have been shamed and angered by their younger brother. Both escaped – one to England and the other to Perth. Kenny found a more natural habitat in Sydney and was air-brushed from the family narrative. Only Jim and Grace kept in touch.
‘Don’t families do some bizarre things,’ said June. ‘Is there such a thing as a normal family?’
Interesting question, Simone thought. What was that quote from Tolstoy? All happy families are alike. All unhappy families are unhappy in their own way. He sure knew how to write about the unhappy part, did Leo, with his tales of deceit and division and unrequited love. Is it boring, just to be happy? Do we really want a life free of drama? It was easy to ask these questions; much harder to find adequate answers.
Sitting there on the beach with June, Simone felt satisfied her work on Baxter’s behalf had not been for nothing. In their time together, he’d complained at length about his propensity to rake over the coals. Through the years, his depressed state took him into dark places. When you think about it, he was lucky to make it. Lucky to be in such good shape, at eighty. Perhaps her sudden appearance triggered the magic of hope. ‘Don’t knock hope,’ she told him. ‘You never know what’s around the corner.’
In truth, her own faith had been tested, as the search grew more and more nebulous. There were moments where she’d wavered. The whereabouts of Baxter’s family seemed an impenetrable enigma, incapable of resolution. But, against the odds, the precious candle of hope continued to flicker. Against the odds, a mysterious alchemy transmuted that flickering hope into discovery. A kind of consummation had occurred, as the doors to reunification began to open.
Absence Makes Page 24