The Last of the Apple Blossom

by Mary-Lou Stephens

  ‘What are you telling me? Dad, did you get that woman pregnant? And, Mum, you took on the baby as your own?’ Angela’s voice held a tremor of anger.

  ‘That’s not how it was. Remember I had just lost my baby. Your dad and I were inconsolable. She gave you to us as an amazing gift, one that brought everything we’d wanted and thought we’d lost into our lives.’ Annie leant towards her daughter. ‘You healed me and you saved us both.’

  ‘But, Dad, you had an affair?’

  ‘No, darling.’ Dave’s voice was calm. ‘I’ve always been faithful to your mum.’

  Angela threw her hands in the air. ‘Then I don’t understand. I’m adopted but I’m not. You’re not my real mother and father – what are you?’

  ‘We’re your parents. Your mum and dad. Since the day you were born, eighteen years ago, we have cherished you.’ Tears pricked at the corners of Annie’s eyes.

  ‘Yeah, okay, I get it. And I love you too. Adoption isn’t the big thing it used to be. I’m amazed you’ve kept it a secret for this long. But who are my biological parents?’

  Annie took another steadying breath. So far Angela was taking this well. In some ways it wasn’t surprising. Her daughter might’ve lived in luxury in Hobart and been to Europe with her grandmother to practise her French, but she still loved the orchard, and had managed to keep her feet firmly planted on the ground. But would she continue to be this calm? The hardest part was yet to come. ‘Her name is Lara. She lives in England with her husband. Her second husband.’

  ‘Lara? I’ve heard her name mentioned. Why?’

  Dave cleared his throat. ‘Her first husband lives here in Wattle Grove. He stayed here to be close to you. He’s always loved you, but entrusted you to our care. It was against his wishes at first, but he came to see it was for the best. If he could’ve taken care of you he would’ve. Even though it broke his heart, he knew you’d always be loved by us.’

  ‘And we did. I couldn’t bear to be apart from you, my little angel.’

  ‘My father lives here? In Wattle Grove?’

  Annie nodded, unable to speak.

  Comprehension hit Angela’s face. ‘Uncle Mark.’

  Dave leant in. ‘We let him know we were going to tell you this today. He’d love to talk if you want to. He said he’ll understand, whatever you decide.’

  ‘Mark Davis is my father.’ Angela spoke as if trying out the words.

  ‘Are you okay, darling?’ Annie searched her daughter’s face. ‘I know it’s a lot to take in.’

  ‘It kind of makes sense. The afternoons at his place after piano lessons with Catherine. Them always giving me a lift back to Hobart after my weekends here. I used to find it strange because you’d want to spend every possible minute with me, Mum, but then you’d always be too busy to drive me back to Hobart. I liked it though because Mark and Catherine would spoil me rotten on the way home.’ She shook her head. ‘He never said a word about this. Never let anything slip.’

  ‘He’s a good man,’ Dave said. ‘Honourable. He made a promise and stuck to it, even though he found it hard. He wanted the best for you, always.’

  ‘Mark Davis. That’s kind of cool. He was a bit famous when he was younger. Those bands, the hit songs.’ Angela’s eyes widened. ‘So that’s where I get it from.’

  ‘I guess so.’ Annie stifled her annoyance. Angela’s delight in having Mark as a father rankled. All he’d done was get Lara pregnant. Dave had been there for her entire life.

  Angela appeared to pick up on Annie’s irritation. She turned to Dave. ‘You’ll always be my dad, Dad. You know that, don’t you?’

  Dave smiled. ‘I’ve always loved you as my own.’

  ‘And Mum, I love you too, and always will. I’ve always felt like the most precious daughter in the world.’

  ‘You are.’

  ‘But I also have biological parents.’ Angela ran her fingers across the golden bracelet. ‘Lara. Hah! She’s married to a rock star. She’s famous in her own right. The things she gets up to.’

  ‘Yes, well.’ Annie frowned.

  ‘She only came back that one time though?’

  Annie dared not open her mouth to speak. She wouldn’t be able to stop herself from saying what she really thought of Lara.

  ‘That’d be right. She doesn’t seem the maternal type.’Angela’s eyes flashed. ‘I just realised. Oh my God. Charlie Davis is my brother. I had a bit of a crush on him when I was younger. How embarrassing. Glad it never went anywhere. Come to think of it, Auntie Catherine picked up on it pretty early and did all she could to discourage me. Just as well.’

  ‘I know this is a bit overwhelming,’ Dave said.

  ‘It’s amazing,’ Angela said. Her expression was one more of delight than concern.

  Annie was torn. Part of her was glad Angela was taking this so well, but part of her hated it too. Lara and Mark were much more exciting, dramatic and interesting than she and Dave with their boring days of hard toil in the orchard. Sure, Mark was little more than an orchardist these days himself, but he’d been famous and was a musician, like Angela. She could see the appeal. Of course Angela was going to want to spend time with him. How many precious hours would she lose Angela to him before she left for Melbourne and in the future? ‘Do you want to see him, now you know?’

  ‘Yeah, I do. But not yet. I need to think first and get to grips with it. It’s kind of weird. My whole life has changed in some ways, but not at all in others.’

  ‘Take as long as you need. And we’ll leave it up to you who you tell. As far as we’re concerned this is your business. Mark and Catherine know, of course, and Lara. But nobody else.’

  ‘Grandmother?’

  Annie huffed. ‘No. But if you want to tell her you can. It might be hard for you to keep this a secret.’

  ‘I think Grandmother would be happier not to know. I can’t imagine how her bridge club would react. It’d all be too much.’

  Annie sighed with relief. She’d hoped Angela would see the sense in keeping Cynthia in the dark.

  ‘But what about Charlie? Does he realise I’m his sister?’

  ‘We’re leaving that up to Mark. And you.’ Annie knew there’d come a time when the whole valley would know, and she’d be the topic of gossip for the rest of her life. Hadn’t she been the focus of gossip when she’d first arrived in the valley, pregnant and on the arm of one of the most eligible local bachelors? She’d put many a nose out of joint. She’d survived that, and worse. It’d been worth it.

  53

  February 1985

  Mark

  It was a simple life at Wattle Grove, but one of contentment. Charlie was working with him and Catherine in the orchard, while making grand plans. Although the orchard was making a profit, just, Charlie’s ideas might turn it around. Mark was grateful for the small amount of money that trickled in from his song royalties. The Glen Carter track was still on rotation around the world all these years later, and two of his other tunes had been covered by other artists and been moderately successful. Their daughter, Sarah, would be eight years old in a few months, the same age as Angela when she’d started coming for piano lessons. Catherine was teaching Sarah piano now, and so the world turned, the seasons came and went. The dramas of the past resolved themselves or faded into distant memory. But now his oldest daughter was walking towards him. They’d agreed to meet here, on the small sandy arc of Petcheys Bay, away from any interruptions. He took in the stretch of water before him and the bridge of sky above. If this proved too hard he’d take his strength from the eternal presence of nature. He smiled. Stardust was influencing him more every year.

  ‘Hi.’ Angela’s wave was shy. Her eyes searched his, the golden highlights caught by the sun’s rays.

  ‘Hi,’ he answered. ‘Thanks for meeting me.’ He pointed to a log under a large eucalypt. ‘Shall we sit?’

  ‘Sure.’

  It was a good strategy. They could both look out across the river instead of having to face each other. It would
make this easier.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.

  ‘Still kind of weird, you know. But in a way it all makes sense.’

  Mark nodded. ‘Yeah. It was weird for me too. Really tough. I’m glad you finally know the truth.’

  ‘Do you ever have any contact with my mother?’

  ‘Nah. Lara was always good at burning bridges.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her shoulders slumped.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. She did what she thought was best for you.’ Mark didn’t want Angela to know that Lara had never wanted her. What would be the point? He wasn’t here to condemn Lara. He was here to connect with his daughter. ‘Lara didn’t think it would be good for you to know about her. Too confusing.’

  ‘And you? What did you want?’

  ‘Just to be your dad. But it wasn’t possible. Lara was gone, I had Charlie to look after. You were so tiny, and so helpless. Annie told you what had happened?’

  ‘Yeah, Mum told me everything, about losing her own baby and then Lara coming along with me. It sounds intense.’

  ‘Losing the baby was tough on Annie, and Dave too. When he asked me to step aside, well, I wanted to do it for him. And you.’

  ‘And Mum?’

  ‘Annie knew what needed to be done. She never faltered.’ He swallowed the last residual piece of bitterness. It had rankled for so long that Annie had gone behind both his and Dave’s backs to register Angela’s birth, but that was a long time ago. Angela was with him now, with the full knowledge that he was her father.

  ‘And Auntie Catherine knew?’

  ‘Not at first. It was hard when she found out. She sent me packing, actually. She hates lies. Not that I lied to her. I just didn’t tell her the truth. But I’d made a promise to Dave. It was tricky.’

  ‘Yeah, sounds it.’ Angela dug her feet into the sand. ‘What happens now?’

  ‘Whatever you want. I’m here for you, whatever you decide. I’m not going to say we have a lot of catching up to do because we’ve spent time together every week for ten years, and before that I was always hanging around watching you grow. I’ve been lucky.’

  ‘So, you were my guardian angel in a way.’ She kept her head down but looked at him from under her lashes.

  He chuckled. ‘A pretty useless one, but yeah, I guess so.’

  ‘And Charlie? Does he know he’s my brother?’

  ‘I thought I’d talk to you first.’

  ‘I think he needs to know, don’t you?’ Angela nibbled her thumbnail.

  ‘I think that’d be great. But it’s your call.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘In the orchard.’

  ‘Well, let’s go tell him.’ She smiled at him for the first time. Mark relaxed a little. This was going better than he’d hoped.

  As they walked up the hill towards the orchard Angela turned to him. ‘You know, I think it’s cool you’re my father. Dad will always be Dad, but my love of music clearly comes from you not him – he’s tone deaf.’ She laughed lightly. ‘Mum tells me she used to play the piano, but with so many kids she never had time. None of the boys are musical. I was always the odd one out.’

  ‘Catherine was astounded how quickly you picked up the piano. You’re a natural.’

  ‘Which must have come from you.’

  ‘I can’t claim the credit. Maybe there’s a musical gene in there somewhere, but your talent far exceeds mine. You could make a real go of it. But it’s not an easy life, no matter what you might read in magazines or see on TV.’

  ‘I want to know all about it. The bands you were in, the records you made. You were famous.’

  Mark shrugged. ‘Not really, but yeah, I had my moments. My old band went on to be pretty big overseas and my other band did well in Australia. But they were different times.’

  ‘True, but I’m hoping you can give me some pointers. You’ve been where I want to be.’

  ‘I reckon you can go further than I ever did. It’ll be tough, but you’ve got the talent to take on the world, if that’s what you want.’

  ‘Big call!’ She dipped her head. He’d embarrassed her but he couldn’t help feeling immensely proud of his daughter.

  Catherine was waiting for them on the verandah. ‘Hey, Angela. Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah, actually. A lot of things make sense now. And I’m grateful, you know. I’ve been looked out for in so many ways.’

  Mark’s heart swelled with love. Angela had not only taken this in her stride, she’d embraced it.

  ‘I’m glad. If you’re looking for Charlie, he’s in the middle block thinning the Granny Smiths. Then come back to the house and we’ll have some afternoon tea.’

  ‘Just like usual.’ Angela smiled.

  Catherine threw Mark a questioning look and he nodded. She smiled as she went inside.

  Mark took Angela’s arm in his as they walked and it felt right.

  ‘Charlie!’ Angela called out as soon as they spotted him among the apple trees.

  Charlie turned. He was taller than his dad now, his dark hair tousled and shoulder length. Mark teased him, saying he’d have been right at home in the seventies.

  ‘Hey, Angela. What brings you into the orchard?’

  ‘You.’

  He squinted at them. ‘Have I done something wrong?’

  Mark shook his head. ‘Nope. We’ve got something we need to tell you.’

  ‘You and Angela? Now you’re freaking me out.’

  ‘God, no. Nothing like that. There’s been a secret in this family for a long time. It involves the Pearsons as well.’

  ‘This is getting weirder by the second. You and Angela, and the Pearsons?’

  ‘You have more than one sister, Charlie,’ Angela said. ‘And I have yet another brother. Lucky me.’

  ‘What? You’re not making sense. Who’s this other sister?’

  ‘Me. Your dad is my real father and your mother is my real mother. I was adopted, kind of, when I was born, by my mum and dad.’

  ‘That’s crazy.’ Charlie stepped back, as if needing distance.

  ‘It’s true.’ Mark put a hand on his son’s shoulder. ‘Angela is your sister. I couldn’t tell you until now. Annie and Dave decided it was time she knew the truth.’

  ‘My dad is your dad.’ Charlie spoke slowly. ‘And Lara’s your mother too?’ His expression changed. ‘Bloody hell, we both copped a lucky break then.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Lara was never good with kids. I was lucky Cat came along when she did. She felt like a mum even before she became my real mum. And Mrs Pearson? It was clear to everyone how much she adored you.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re right. And I’m so lucky to have yet another big brother to boss me around.’ She lightly punched his arm.

  ‘As if I would ever dare.’ He smiled at her, comfortable already.

  Mark watched them as they joked around, testing the waters of their new relationship. It had always astounded him that no one had noticed the similarities between them while they were growing up. To him the likeness was clear, but others only saw Angela’s eyes and they were pure Lara. Charlie looked more like him. He smiled as his son put a brotherly arm around Angela.

  ‘Well, little sister,’ Charlie said. ‘That explains why Cat made butterfly cakes today. You’ve always loved them.’

  Angela laughed. ‘You like them too. Or do you always have to force yourself to scoff most of them?’

  Charlie threw up his hands in mock horror. ‘Who, me?’

  ‘I’m sure there are plenty for all of us.’ Mark chuckled. ‘Let’s head down to the house and have some afternoon tea.’

  Angela’s face grew serious. ‘Does Sarah know? Does she know I’m her sister?’

  Mark and Catherine had discussed the best way forward, depending on Angela’s response today. ‘Catherine is explaining everything to her now, in a way she’ll understand. It might take Sarah a while to get her head around it, but we decided we didn’t want
any more secrets.’

  ‘Another brother and a little sister.’ Angela’s smile was back. ‘What a day!’

  Mark let their chatter wash over him as he walked with his children back to the house. What a day indeed. A heaviness lifted from him to be replaced with a gentle sense of peace. No more secrets. His family was completed.

  54

  Spring, Present day

  Catherine

  It was the scent of the blossom wafting through the window that woke her. The spring evenings still had a frosty edge, but Catherine loved to sleep with the bedroom window open so she could wake with the rising sun and the sound of birdsong. Even on such glorious mornings she was sleeping a little later. Perhaps her body was letting her rest after all those years of early starts. Her days were free now from the backbreaking work of picking, pruning, spraying and mowing. After all the struggles, failures and successes she’d been happy to let it all go. Her orchard thrived under another’s care. Her father wouldn’t recognise the tight rows of trees grown so close together instead of the spacious plantings of his day. Growing techniques had changed along with pruning, grading and packing. Computers did much of what she’d done when she was young. She stretched and slowly got out of bed, made herself a cup of tea and took it out to the verandah. She’d done the right thing in getting most of it glassed in. She was able to enjoy the view all year round now, but how that view had changed. Where once there was an ocean of apple blossom on both sides of the Huon River, now there were only paddocks of green where cattle grazed, or the tiled roofs of new homes built on the old subdivided orchards – ‘lifestyle acreage’, as the real estate agents called it. During the Tree Pull Scheme nearly 700 orchardists had left the industry, halving the production of apples and pears, but it still hadn’t been enough. Now there were fewer than thirty orchards remaining in the whole of Tasmania. She was glad hers was one of them, greatly changed though it was.