by Janet Gover
‘Okay. We’ll go the long way.’
It only takes a few more minutes to reach the road, where Mitch has left his car. It’s a pretty old car and, like most farm cars, a bit beaten around the edges. But when she opens the door, Lizzie sees a soft blanket covering the tattered old seat cover. There’s a bunch of flowers lying on the blanket. Red roses.
‘Oh. They’re so pretty.’ She can’t help herself. She has to pick them up and bury her face among the soft petals, breathing in the delicate scent.
‘I thought you should have a bouquet.’ Mitch looks a little embarrassed.
Lizzie flings an arm around his neck and kisses him. A short fervent kiss that tells him all he needs to know.
‘Let’s get going.’
They leap into the car. They have a bit of a drive ahead of them because they didn’t dare risk arranging a local wedding; word would have gotten back to their parents. But there’s a small church at Merriwa about sixty kilometres away. It has taken a bit of work to convince the priest that he should marry two teenagers, but they are old enough by law, and he has finally agreed. His wife and daughter will act as witnesses.
‘They’re expecting us at nine,’ Mitch says. ‘With the fog, it’ll take a bit over an hour, I think, in this old car. But we’ll still be very early.’
‘That doesn’t matter.’ Lizzie’s eyes are shining. ‘It’ll take that long, or even longer, for them to even realise we’re gone. They won’t think to look in Merriwa. And even if they do, it’ll be too late for them to stop us.’
Mitch hesitates before starting the engine. ‘Are you really sure?’
‘I am more sure about this than anything in my life.’
‘All right then.’
The car engine has cooled. Mitch turns the key and the engine turns over slowly, making a loud grinding sound. He pumps the accelerator a couple of times. This time the car responds and he slips it into gear and flicks on the lights. They are on their way.
In the house, Kayla stirs. The sound of the engine has disturbed her. She rolls over and sees a flash of light through the window. Puzzled, she gets out of bed to look and sees a set of headlights in the distance on the road. She shrugs it off and goes back to bed. But for some reason, she can’t sleep. Instead she heads for the bathroom. That’s when she notices that Lizzie’s door is shut. That’s strange. Lizzie usually sleeps with the door open just a crack. Kayla hesitates, but finally decides to open the door.
She peeps inside. The bed is empty. Puzzled, she pushes the door open. Lizzie’s pyjamas are lying in a heap on the floor. Kayla’s first thought is that Lizzie is already at the stables, but her jeans are also lying on the floor. The wardrobe door is open and Kayla frowns. That’s unusual. Lizzie’s wardrobe isn’t like Kayla’s. Where Kayla has everything neatly organised, Lizzie’s is a mess. But something is different: all the clothes have been pushed to one side to get at something that must have been hidden in the far corner.
Kayla rushes to her parents’ room and pushes the door open. Her mother and father are fast asleep. She hurries to Kath’s side of the bed.
‘Mum.’ When there is no response, she gently shakes her mother’s shoulder. ‘Mum.’
At last Kath’s eyes open. ‘What’s wrong, Kayla?’
‘It’s Lizzie. She’s gone.’
‘Honey, she’s probably just gone down the stables to sleep with Zeke. You know she does that sometimes.’
‘Not when it’s this cold. And besides, her pretty shoes are gone too. And her birthday party dress. The one she hardly ever wears.’
Kath shakes her head to clear it a little and raises herself on one elbow. ‘What?’
‘Lizzie’s gone. And so is her party dress. And her good shoes.’
Of course Kayla would notice that. Kath frowns. She slides out of bed and follows her younger daughter to Lizzie’s room. The bed is unmade. Lizzie never makes her bed and Kath has given up trying to force her. The wardrobe door is open, and Kath sees that Kayla is right. Lizzie lives in jeans and riding boots. She hates dresses and Kath can think of no reason she would wear one at home.
Unless she’s not at home.
Kath’s eyes widen and she hurries back to her husband.
‘Sam. Wake up.’
‘What?’
‘Sam, I think Lizzie has run away. With Mitch.’
CHAPTER
40
‘What do you think?’ Kayla held her breath. She was as nervous as she had been the first time she’d planned an event for Elite Weddings.
‘You’ve done a great job.’ Pascale turned slowly, taking time to examine the water trickling over the fountain, the neatly cut green lawn and the rich heritage colours on the freshly painted sections of the homestead. A large white marquee filled one side of the garden. Inside were tables and a bar. ‘It’s just as I imagined it would be. Except for the bower. That’s a very nice touch.’
Kayla beamed. The bower had been all her idea. Between two tall gum trees, a white wire frame had been erected. Bunches of bright yellow wattle and red bottlebrush blooms covered the frame, entwined with the orange of the banksia flowers and delicate white of blue gum blossom. Baskets of red and green kangaroo paw and waratah defined the area in front of the bower, where the ceremony would take place.
‘I think the native flowers have given the whole setting an extra Australian feel,’ she said proudly.
‘They are going to love it. If it goes well, this guy might become a regular. Apparently there is a real appetite in Japan for Australian weddings at all levels from cheap and cheerful to totally upscale. This could be a good money spinner.’
How like Pascale to be thinking of the money while Kayla was too busy checking and double-checking everything to make sure it was absolutely perfect.
‘So, my lovelies, what time does this all kick off?’ Ken appeared from the direction of the house, a camera in his hand.
Kayla glanced at her watch. ‘The first bus should be here in about an hour … and that,’ she nodded at two vans making their way up the driveway, ‘should be the caterers.’
‘I don’t suppose that gorgeous cowboy is going to appear at any time?’
‘No, Ken, he’s not.’
The photographer pulled a face. ‘Ah, well.’
‘Have you found the right places for the photos?’ Kayla said to distract him as she saw Liz approaching. The last thing she needed today was for Liz and Ken to clash again. This first wedding had to be perfect.
‘I have. I think I prefer it as it was, that broken and ruined feel it had was fabulous. Still, I guess that’s not what this lot will want. I like the bower, by the way. Can I just move a couple of things?’
‘Yes. Whatever you like. Can you do a few extra shots of the bower for us? For the website.’ She shooed Ken away. ‘Ignore him,’ she said to her sister. ‘He’s an artist. He sees things differently from the way we see them.’
Liz pulled a face that was far more eloquent of her disbelief than any words might be.
Any further conversation was interrupted by the caterer, who was starting to unload and needed instructions on what and where and how everything was to be served.
‘You should set up over there.’ Kayla pointed.
‘Wouldn’t it be better if they set up closer to the house?’ Liz suggested. ‘There’s water there in case there’s an accident with the fire.’
‘It’ll be fine where it is, Liz.’ Kayla nodded for the caterers to continue.
‘Where do you want these?’ The florist was indicating two white arrangements.
‘In the marquee. Top table.’
‘They could sit over there, blocking the view of the stable gate,’ Liz offered.
The florist raised an eyebrow at Kayla then scurried off in the direction of the marquee.
After fifteen minutes of Liz’s ‘help’, Kayla couldn’t stand it any more.
‘Are you planning to spend the whole day doing this?’
‘Doing what?’
&nb
sp; ‘This! Wandering around, criticising. Getting in the way.’
Liz bristled. ‘I was only trying to help. You wanted me to go along with your plan. That’s what I’m doing.’
‘I know.’ Kayla sighed. ‘And I appreciate that. I really do. But you’re the one who knows about horses. I’m the one who does weddings. It would be better if you just let me do my job!’
Liz stared at her for a long moment and blinked, a slightly stunned expression spreading over her face. ‘Sorry, little sister. I guess I just—’
Kayla’s phone beeped. She glanced down. ‘Oh, damn it!’ The first bus, carrying the brides and their mothers and maids, was just a few moments away. The grooms would be following twenty minutes later. ‘Sorry, Liz, but they’ll be here soon. I’ve got to—’
‘I know. I’m sorry I got underfoot. I’ll go hide.’
‘No. I didn’t mean that. Honestly.’
Liz gave her a sort of sad half-smile, then walked away. Kayla would have gone after her, but the first bus was pulling up in the designated parking area. Kayla turned her attention to welcoming the women who alighted, their faces bright with laughter and anticipation. It was easy to pick the six brides: their faces and hair were already done. All they had to do was slip into the dresses now being unloaded in their protective garment bags and they would be ready.
To Kayla they all looked so very young.
She led the brides and their bridesmaids and mothers up the front stairs and into the bride’s room. It was a bit crowded with so many, but the girls didn’t seem to mind. They chattered among themselves and oohed and aahed at the dresses as they were revealed. A waitress came in with a tray of Champagne, and Kayla withdrew. Back at the bus, she collected a cardboard box, which she carried to the bower and opened. Inside were dozens—hundreds—of origami paper cranes, joined into long garlands. Kayla examined a particularly lovely garland with birds made all of red and gold paper. These, she knew, were an important symbol of good fortune ahead. She added them to the bower.
The men arrived soon after, already resplendent in their tuxedos. They were accompanied by a priest. Although the groom’s room was available, the men stayed outside, looking at the gum trees and the homestead and taking photographs with everything from a phone to a camera almost as impressive as Ken’s. Just as Kayla was beginning to think it was time to get things started, someone rang a bell. The grooms took their places in the bower.
They turned as their brides appeared at the top of the front stairs. With their parents by their sides, the veiled girls walked towards their husbands. As they did, a kookaburra laughed, loud and long. Kayla frowned, but then noticed the smiles that lit the faces of the wedding parties. Obviously they thought this was a good omen.
She wondered briefly if there was a way to ensure the bird performed at every Willowbrook wedding.
CHAPTER
41
Liz was surprised to see the brides wearing traditional white dresses. Very frilly and sparkly bridal dresses at that, with huge skirts that barely fitted through the doorways. She’d expected the group to wear traditional Japanese wedding costumes. Not that she had any idea what those traditional costumes might be, but she was pretty sure they didn’t involve that much tulle and lace. It would appear tradition didn’t mean that much to the young people now gathered on her front lawn.
She turned away from the window.
Traditional or not, a wedding was a wedding. Weddings were definitely not something Liz felt comfortable around. Weddings were not for her; she knew that as certainly as she knew the sun would set over the hills. She crossed the room, trying hard not to acknowledge the memories that were following close behind.
This room on the top floor at the front of the house was her new office. While she had happily had a bedroom and office in one space on the ground floor, nothing would entice her to set up her bed in the room that had been her parents’ bedroom. She’d vetoed suggestions for a bride’s room here. It seemed right to use it as the Willowbrook office, while she slept in her old room. Kayla also had her childhood room, which she used whenever she needed to sleep over and supervise the renovation. Her visits had become more frequent and now that the business was actually started, Liz guessed Kayla would spend even more time here. Probably a couple of days for each wedding. That was good, wasn’t it? She and her sister had been apart too long. When they were kids, they had been as close as two sisters could possibly be. But then everything changed. And since then they had drifted apart.
No. Not drifted. They had deliberately gone their separate ways after many arguments and recriminations and pain.
Liz left the room and headed downstairs. She was almost at the bottom of the grand staircase when she came face to face with a young couple. The bride looked up, startled. Then she and her groom recovered enough to bow.
‘Right there on the stairs …’ Ken appeared behind them, clutching his camera. ‘Oh. Hi, Liz.’
Liz stared at the bride. Her dress shimmered in the late evening sunlight streaming through the front door. The girl’s eyes shone with happiness as she clasped her new husband’s hand. She was so young and so beautiful and so very, very happy. A lump formed in Liz’s throat. That had been her once. A lifetime ago.
She nodded to both the photographer and the bridal couple before slipping through the kitchen to the back door. She was acutely aware that, with her jeans and faded old work shirt, she was totally out of place here. At the door, she slipped her riding boots on, but didn’t even think of going to the stables, which would once again put her in danger of intruding on the wedding. She had settled the horses safely in their stables and fed them before the wedding started; the mares and foals she had moved to a slightly more distant paddock. She hadn’t been at all sure how this wedding would unfold, but she wasn’t taking any chances with her precious horses. They were fine and safe.
She wasn’t so sure about herself.
Liz walked quickly through the home paddock towards the creek. She hadn’t been this way in quite a while. She and Kayla—Mitch too—had worn a path between the house and the swimming hole over many hot summer days but the path was long gone, lost in the long grass. Liz didn’t need a path to show her the way to the spot where a fallen gum had created a bridge over the creek. Once it had united two parts of Willowbrook. Now it simply served to highlight that those parts were connected by only the finest thread. She stepped onto the log and walked to the centre where she sat, dangling her feet over the clear water. She noticed water primrose growing on the far side of the creek. The little yellow flowers were pretty, but the weed could be a nuisance. It was just one more thing she needed to attend to. One more thing she really didn’t have enough time for.
She pulled a piece of rotting bark from the tree trunk and began to shred it between her fingers. Her head was spinning with the memories this place held: long summer evenings when she and Kayla and their parents had cooled off here after a hard day’s work; the times she and her sister had slipped away early in the morning to come and watch the kingfishers diving for their breakfast. They had sat side by side and shared their secret hopes and dreams.
It looked as if Kayla’s dreams had come true—or were heading that way. She spent her days surrounded by the beautiful things she had always loved. She was successful and living the life she wanted in Sydney. But none of Liz’s dreams had come true. She had never seen her father’s face light up with pride as she won the King of the Ranges competition. She had never developed her own bloodlines at the stud. She had never …
What was the point of these kinds of memories? They only hurt. She had never expected her life to be easy; she’d never wanted it to be easy. She liked to work and see the results of her work. But, oh, she had never expected it to be this hard. Or for it to hurt this much. She had never expected to fail.
A breeze wafting from the homestead brought with it a trace of music and laughter. The music was strange to her ears. Perhaps it was Japanese. Whatever it was, it simply reinfo
rced her feelings that she no longer belonged in her own home.
She let her eyes follow the rise of the bank on the other side of the creek. It was almost fully dark now, but she could still see the outline of the old church. Of course, it wasn’t a church any more. It was a home, and there was a light shining in the window like a beacon. And another reminder of her failures. Mitch belonged to this lovely spot by the creek even more than Kayla. Her strongest memories were of the two of them, kids just finding out what love is all about. Even after all these years and everything that had happened, the magic and the aching beauty of those first kisses and that one night together almost broke her heart.
As she stared at the water, a shadow detached itself from the trees on the far bank. At first she thought it was a memory come to haunt her. But the man who stepped easily along the fallen tree and sat beside her was very real.
CHAPTER
42
Mitch didn’t say anything. Part of him believed Liz would try to send him away. Or get up and leave him there alone. This place was so very personal to both of them, but it had been a lifetime since they’d been here together. Mitch had avoided this spot since his return, not wanting to give himself up too much to the past when he had no hope for the future. But tonight, the draw of this place and the memories it held had been too strong to fight. He hadn’t really believed she might be here, but here she was.
For a long time they both just sat there. Mitch was acutely aware of her hand on the tree trunk, so close to his. More than anything, he wanted to reach out and touch her skin. But he didn’t dare. Instead, he stayed silent, listening to the night sounds of the bush and the sound of Liz breathing.
When the silence was finally disturbed, it was by the sound of an engine roaring into life. They both looked at the homestead. A shaft of bright light began to move down the long driveway, followed by another.