Lara was still waiting for an answer. Mark remained mute, the frustration grating on his nerves.
‘No.’ Lara laughed softly. ‘I didn’t think so.’
‘What do you want, Lara?’
Her composure was back; her face a beautiful mask. ‘What do I want? I want a divorce.’
A bitter sound erupted from his mouth.
‘You won’t have to do much,’ Lara said. ‘Just appear in court. My lawyer, well, Bobby’s lawyer actually, will take care of everything.’
‘Bobby?’
‘Oh, you’ve probably heard of him.’ She lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply. ‘Fabulous guitar player. Wonderful songwriter too. Hugely famous. Stonkingly rich. The car and the chauffeur were his idea. Didn’t want me running off the road and ending up in a gully.’ Her smile was little more than a smirk.
She had the nerve to joke about her supposed death, and worse, the death of a woman whose name she hadn’t even bothered to remember. He’d felt wretched with guilt when the police had told him Lara was dead. It was his fault. He’d brought his family to the valley and Lara had ended up in that gully. He’d blamed himself for everything and pushed Catherine away in his anguish. Bile bit the back of his throat.
‘Anyhow, darling, he wants to marry me. It’s all very sweet. I hadn’t been using my real name, oh, for some time, but when it came to the wedding things came a bit unstuck. So here I am.’
‘To stick them together again.’
‘Well, quite the opposite actually.’ She brought the cigarette to her lips then paused. ‘At least as far as you and I are concerned.’
Mark rested his elbows on his knees and ran his hands through his hair. He couldn’t get his head around the idea of it. Divorcing a dead woman.
‘So.’ She stretched the word out into a question. ‘Will you? Then I’ll be out of your life forever.’
‘I thought you were. We all thought you were dead.’
‘All you need to do is appear in court in Sydney. That’s where I’ll be staying until this little mess is tidied up, away from prying eyes.’
‘Sydney?’ Mark could only assume she wanted as little contact with her parents and their old friends as possible.
‘Bobby’s flying out incognito for a secret holiday. It’s all so delicious. The lawyer’s taking care of everything. He assures me that because we’ve been separated for over five years we’ll get a no-fault divorce. No need for one of those horrid private detectives.’
Mark slowly shook his head. It was as if he was in a bad dream – no, a farce. Except nothing about this was funny.
‘Being declared dead will actually help. We couldn’t have been together if I was dead, now could we?’ Her smile was sly. ‘He’ll also obtain affidavits from mutual friends saying we never co-habitated after I left Wattle Grove. Dave and Annie won’t mind giving a statement, will they? Considering everything.’
Her words whirled through Mark’s head. Lara had clearly been clued up by her lawyer on how to present her case. But his mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions.
‘If you just sign a couple of teensy documents we can have a court appearance in a month. My lawyer is confident we’ll be granted a decree nisi without any problems, and you’ll get sole custody of Charlie. There’s no record of Emily being ours. Then three months after that, the decree absolute will be declared and we’re both free.’ Lara took a last deep drag on her cigarette and exhaled the smoke in a satisfied sigh.
‘You don’t want joint custody of Charlie?’ Mark’s throat was dry, his tongue thick.
‘Don’t be silly, darling.’ She waved her hand again. The sunlight filtering through the window caught the gemstones in her rings, including the large diamond on the third finger of her left hand. ‘What would I do with Charlie? No. He’s much better off here with you. Where is he, by the way?’
‘With his grandmother.’ Judith was as good as Charlie’s grandmother and loved it when he called her Granny.
‘His grandmother? Have your parents finally stopped living abroad? I never imagined them settling in Tasmania after such an exotic life.’
‘Forget it.’ He wasn’t sure where his parents were. They never wrote to him, or called. He realised now he’d married a woman just like his mother, one who wanted nothing to do with her own child.
‘Well, he’s certainly not with my mother. Although Mummy and Daddy said how much they loved spending time with him. Positively gushed.’
‘Do you want to see him? Charlie?’
‘I don’t think so, darling. He thinks I’m dead. Wouldn’t want to confuse the little mite.’
‘But you’re not dead. He has a right to know.’
‘Maybe I’ll write him a letter.’
‘Right. Because you’re so good at writing to let people know where you are and what you’re doing.’
‘There’s no need to get snarky. Snarky Marky.’ She laughed. ‘It rhymes. Perhaps I should write songs too instead of being everyone else’s muse.’
This was such a mess. He was marrying Catherine in a month. Oh God, Catherine. She’d been at Annie’s place when Lara had turned up. He had to see her. ‘A month till the court case, then another three and the divorce is final?’
‘Yes, darling. A minimum of fuss. Nothing for the papers to sniff out for their tawdry rags. Bobby’s lawyer will keep it all very hush-hush. He knows the right people.’
No June wedding then. It’d be four months until he could legally marry Catherine. A spring wedding after all. A celebration under the apple blossom. It could work. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll sign the papers and come to Sydney for court. But on one proviso.’
‘Hmm?’ She raised one perfectly plucked brow.
‘That we never see you again.’
Her laugh was honey sweet, but laced with bitter almond. ‘But, darling, that’s exactly what I want too. Now everybody’s happy.’
As soon as Lara left, Mark sought out Catherine, anxious to set things right. When he opened the door of her cottage her face was swollen with tears and white with rage. Before he could say a word, she launched into him.
‘You’ve got a lot of nerve turning up here. You’ve been lying to me since the day we met. How could you not have told me about Angela? You’ve strung me along for years. You told me you loved me, but it was all lies. Everything that’s come out of your mouth. Lies. Angela is the reason you stayed here. It was nothing to do with me.’
Mark deserved her anger, he knew it.
‘And what about Charlie?’ she continued, jabbing him in the chest with her finger. ‘Does he know he has a sister or have you lied to him too? You can’t keep your stories straight, your life’s such a mess. Are you going to tell him his mother is alive? What if he finds out one day and knows you lied to him for so long?’ There were tears of anger and pain in her eyes. ‘I know how awful that feels.’
‘Lara doesn’t want—’
‘Lara!’ Catherine almost screamed the name. ‘It’s always been about Lara. Even when you thought she was dead, it was still all about her and your grief and your guilt. When have you ever put me first? When have you ever treated me like the woman you loved? You told me lies and gave me scraps.’
She pushed at him blindly, tears streaming down her face, trying to force him off the verandah.
‘You told me there’d be no secrets between us. You’re a liar and a fraud. I don’t even know who you are. Certainly not the man I fell in love with. That man doesn’t exist.’ Catherine wrenched the engagement ring off her finger and held it out towards him. ‘I’m not going to marry you. How could I? You’re still married. But worse than that – you’re a stranger to me.’
He stepped back. ‘The ring is yours. Keep it. I hope one day you’ll think me worthy of being your husband. I’m not going anywhere, Catherine. I love you.’
‘Love? How dare you?’ She gave him one final angry shove, spun on her heel and slammed the door so hard the cottage shook.
Mark stayed still fo
r a moment, staring at the door. He had to fix this. But he had no idea how.
39
June 1972
Annie
Another wet, dreary day of trying to get endless loads of washing dry and school uniforms ironed. The pile of mending would have to wait until later, after Angela was asleep, the boys finally in bed and the household quiet. That was the time of day she relished – just her and Dave sitting quietly in front of the open fire, him reading the newspaper he hadn’t had a chance to glance at all day, and her with the mending.
The tension between them was slowly abating. After the shock of Lara’s return, Annie had clung to Angela with a fierce desperation that had scared the child. She’d kept her home from school, refusing to let her out of her sight. The fear of losing her was overwhelming. At first, she and Dave had hardly known how to speak to each other, and when they did it was in hushed tones away from the keen ears of the children. Their muttered discussions about what to do had finally been resolved. Only then did Annie begin to release her grip on Angela and allow her to return to school.
Mark had been in no state to argue. His whole world had been tipped on its head. He’d left in a daze for Sydney and the divorce case, leaving Charlie in their care. And the wedding? It wasn’t even talked about, a detail abandoned in the chaos Lara had left in her wake.
A sharp knock on the door jolted Annie out of the rhythmic swoosh of a hot iron on cotton school shirts. She wasn’t expecting anyone and her tribe weren’t due home from school quite yet.
‘Hi, Annie.’
A shot of guilt hit her in the stomach. It was Catherine. They hadn’t had a chance to talk since the day Lara’s return had shattered their world. Annie had been secretly relieved. How could she explain? Catherine’s face was drawn and set in a determined frown.
‘I left school early. I wanted to see you, on your own.’
Annie recovered her senses and forced a smile. ‘Come in. Since when do you knock?’
‘Since I have no idea where I stand any more, or who to trust. Since I don’t know what’s true and what’s a lie.’
Annie took a deep breath but said nothing as Catherine followed her through to the kitchen. She turned off the iron. Housework would have to wait. ‘Cup of tea?’
‘We don’t have much time. The school bus will be here soon. I need to know what happened, Annie. I’ve been going crazy. I guess you know I sent Mark packing.’
‘Sit down, at least. I’m going to. Been on my feet all day.’ Annie shoved a pile of washing to one side and sat at the kitchen table. Slowly Catherine followed suit, sitting opposite her. Her eyes were fierce and Annie steadied herself for the onslaught.
‘Tell me what happened. I’ve been left in the dark. I doubt Mark has said a true word to me since we met. You’ve been no better. Lie after lie. Now I need to know the truth. From the beginning.’
‘From the beginning?’ A lump formed in Annie’s throat. She had longed for a girl, swearing she’d never treat her daughter the way her parents had treated her. She’d love her no matter what. ‘My baby died. My little girl. She came early.’ At the time Annie had felt as though she was being punished all over again and that her mother was right. Annie was unworthy. She didn’t deserve a daughter of her own.
‘I’m sorry, Annie. I never knew. You never told me. I could have—’
‘No, you couldn’t. No one could help. I was in a dark place.’ She closed her eyes briefly, remembering. The hole inside had deepened endlessly, plunging her into a place so bleak she thought she’d never find her way out. Part of her had never wanted to. ‘Then Lara came with Angela. She said, “Take her, she’s yours.” She hadn’t known what to do when Charlie was born and never wanted to go through it again.’ Annie’s voice faltered. ‘Lara said her baby girl was meant for me, not her. I swore that nothing would take Angela from me.’
‘But what about Dave? What did he say?’
‘He protested at first, but Lara left that same night and I—’ She faltered. ‘My arms were aching to hold a newborn baby. I’d made all the preparations …’ Annie took a breath. ‘Dave knew the arrangement made sense. But the thing you have to understand is that I was broken by my baby’s death. Finally a girl, but gone before she’d even lived. I couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t get out of bed. I was useless as a mother and a wife. Dave was suffering as well. But he couldn’t afford to grieve because he had to look after me as well as the boys.’
‘I tried to see you before I left for Hobart. Dave turned me away. He said you were struggling with the pregnancy. He never told me.’
‘We didn’t tell anyone except Mark. He must’ve told Lara.’
‘And Mark? Was he happy to give his daughter away too?’
Annie slumped. The weight of Mark’s anger and resentment was still a burden Annie carried every day. ‘No. But Lara was gone and he had Charlie to take care of. How was he going to look after a baby as well? Even if Lara came back, he knew what an unreliable mother she was. She could never cope with two.’ Annie had used that to justify her actions. Some women didn’t deserve to have children. ‘Then the fires came and everything changed.’
‘Yes.’ Catherine chewed her bottom lip. Annie looked at her properly for the first time since she’d arrived, remembering the tragedy her friend had suffered because of the bushfires.
Annie’s happiness had come at a price. She’d been wary at first; worried someone would find out, and terrified Lara would waltz back into her life and take Angela back as easily as she’d given her away. Then her fear was that Mark would try to reclaim his daughter, even though he was working in the orchard as well as caring for Charlie, and a baby would have been too much for him to handle. He’d hung around though, always keeping an eye on the baby, which made Annie anxious. It didn’t feel safe having him so close. She’d felt completely self-righteous about registering Angela’s birth in her own name. When Lara had thrust Angela into Annie’s empty arms she’d said, ‘Your baby was never reported. Nobody knows she’s gone. This is your baby now. Make it legal. Register her in your name. Yours and Dave’s.’
Annie was certain she’d done the right thing. Dave wasn’t convinced. His anger took her by surprise. But it was too late. He knew when he was beaten. It had been left to him to tell Mark and she knew it hadn’t gone well. Another reason to fear Mark’s presence. He mightn’t have a legal leg to stand on, but he could make trouble if he put his mind to it.
‘Didn’t you ever feel guilty? So many lies.’ Catherine sounded as though she genuinely wanted to know.
‘You don’t understand. Angela was mine. She was always meant to be mine. Lara said so herself. I never felt as though I was lying to anyone, especially not to you.’ And not to her mother. Annie had written to her mother to tell her about Angela, as she had with all her children, but this time it was different. She wanted her mother to know this daughter was loved, cherished and protected. She sent photos and regular updates, each one of them reminding her mother that Annie was better at raising a daughter than she was, that Annie was everything she wasn’t. Her mother never replied.
‘But your baby—’
‘I couldn’t bear to think about what happened, let alone talk about it.’ Somewhere on the property her baby lay. She’d never asked where. The thought only came to her occasionally now, fainter every year.
‘Surely you worried that the truth would come out one day?’
‘I was terrified. But after Lara was declared dead it made sense. Angela was better off with me and Dave, always had been.’
‘But Mark didn’t feel that way.’
When Mark finally went back to Melbourne, it had felt like the perfect outcome. Annie began to feel truly safe for the first time. But then he’d returned to the valley and proposed to Catherine, making the old fear raise its ugly head. Annie had become distracted and angry, always on edge and waiting for the axe to fall. Mark would tell Catherine the truth, claim Angela as his child and raise her with his new wife. But she could n
ever admit this to Catherine. ‘No.’
‘And now Lara …’
Annie had fretted over every scenario, but she’d never expected this. Lara, back from the dead, and bringing the lies crashing down around all of them. ‘Yes, Lara. Like Lazarus, but in this case it was a miracle we could have done without. Especially you. I’m sorry, Catherine, about the wedding.’
Catherine blinked rapidly and looked away. ‘I’m too angry to even think about it.’ She faced Annie again. ‘So, what are you going to do now?’
The clatter of boys on the front steps, the front door opening, the thump as school bags were dumped in the hall and the calls of ‘Hi, Mum, anything to eat?’ stopped the conversation cold.
‘I’m going to get back to what I do best, being a mother.’ Annie rose and started fussing with the piles of washing.
‘Annie?’ Catherine’s voice was insistent.
Catherine would never understand. Her world was black and white – truth or lies with no room for anything in between. Annie saw things differently. When Lara had reappeared she’d made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with Angela other than a moment of curiosity, or Charlie for that matter. Her antipathy filled Annie both with rage and relief. How could a mother be so indifferent to her own children, abandoning them, just as Annie had been discarded by her mother? But her failure was Annie’s gain. Angela was hers and would always be. She raised her head. ‘I’m going to do the right thing.’
40
January 1973
The Last of the Apple Blossom Page 27