by Mandy Magro
Defeated, upset and confused, she sat down and dared to dangle her legs in the shallows – which she could handle, but only just. The intense fear swirling in her stomach was as if a crocodile was about to snatch her foot and drag her in. She huffed and then groaned. This was meant to be enjoyable, not insufferable. Had she accidentally fallen in and almost drowned when she was really young? That would certainly explain her irrational fear – maybe Bea hadn’t wanted to admit to it because she was somehow ashamed of not watching over her. Anger flooded her, and not because of it being a possible scenario, but because she’d now never hear the truth of why this dam wasn’t one of the places she loved to swim around the township.
Thankfully, Maxwell provided her with some comical amusement, and it didn’t take her long to focus on him instead of her woes. Taking her hat off and flopping backwards, she tucked her hands behind her head and closed her eyes. Maxwell’s splashes were strangely lulling, as was the buzz of the dragonflies flittering above her. She slowly drifted into that limbo between sleep and consciousness, Logan’s handsome face a wavering image in her mind. Soon, she was daydreaming about all this being her actual life, when the crunch of gravel underfoot brought her back to reality. Acutely aware she was only in her bra and knickers, she sat up and threw her arms across her front. She turned her head to where the sound had come from, but with no sign of anyone, her heart did a weird thud before galloping like a startled horse.
‘Hello?’ she called out while considering making a dive for her clothes piled atop her boots just out of arm’s reach. ‘Is anyone there?’
Nobody answered her.
‘Logan, is that you?’
Still nothing.
‘Bert?’
Branches ruffled, as if someone or something was making an escape. She leapt to her feet, feeling exposed, vulnerable, terrified. Like a bull at a gate, Maxwell bounded from the water’s edge and dashed to her side, his teeth bared in a snarl. He growled, low and warningly.
‘Hello?’ she called out, a little louder this time.
But there was still no reply.
Her belly roiled and she had to fight the urge to flee. Kneeling down and wrapping an arm around Maxwell, just in case it was feral pigs – they’d very possibly rip Maxwell to shreds – she pulled him to her, feeling comforted by his eagerness to protect her. She shushed him and listened intently as Maxwell’s ears pricked forwards and backwards. The seconds ticked by. Eerie silence now met her, and she breathed a sigh of relief when Maxwell relaxed in her arms. He unfurled his top lip, and a quick swipe of his tongue up her cheek let her know that if there had been danger, it was all gone now, and she was safe.
Jumping up, she got dressed faster than she ever had in her life, and with Maxwell close to her side, she all but raced back to the homestead. The very sight of the Queenslander home and Bert’s old LandCruiser parked in its usual spot beneath the poinsettia tree brought her immense relief. Next time she wanted to explore the place, she was taking the quad bike for a quick getaway if anything ever happened again – she hoped to god it didn’t because it had scared the bejesus out of her.
Kicking her boots off at the back door, she invited Maxwell to join her, and stepped inside. After a quick trip to the loo, with her belly grumbling as she had eaten breakfast hours ago, she went in search of food. An envelope similar to the one Bea’s letter had come in last time was on the dining table, along with a bunch of bright yellow sunflowers placed in one of Bea’s crystal vases. Near that was a pewter urn.
‘Bea …’ The word tumbled from her in a whisper. She stepped forwards, gently lifted the urn, as though it were made of the finest glass, and ran a fingertip over the engraving. It was hard to read through the tears that sprang from her eyes. She let them fall, sniffling.
In Loving Memory
Beatrice Grace Jones
Feeling a little light-headed, Nina sank down into a dining chair. She found it a little odd that William hadn’t let her know he was calling over today. Maybe it had been him looking for her down near the dam, and he just simply hadn’t spotted her? But wouldn’t he have heard her calling out? And why would Maxwell growl at someone he knew? Reaching for a tissue, she spotted a silver necklace with a pretty heart pendant on top of a handwritten note by the vase of flowers. Hugging the urn in one arm, she picked up the necklace and dangled it from her finger, wondering if this was a piece of Bea’s jewellery that maybe William had brought to give to her. Although, she’d never seen it before. She snatched up the note.
Dear Nina,
Sorry I missed you. I should have phoned ahead. I will do next time. This necklace has some of Bea’s ashes held inside of it. I hope you like it.
William
Nina didn’t just like it. She loved it. What a wonderful idea, and how very thoughtful of him – she’d call him later to thank him, and to organise if they could have lunch next time he visited. Placing the urn back down upon the table, she unlatched the necklace, manoeuvred it around her neck, and did it back up. Now Bea would be near her heart, always and forever. Clutching the pendant in her hand, she closed her eyes for a few moments as she brought it to her lips and kissed it. ‘Love you, Bea, so much. I miss you,’ she said tenderly.
Eager to read Bea’s next instalment, but still absolutely starving, she quickly whacked together a toasted ham, tomato and cheese sandwich and an icy cup of blackcurrant cordial – she really needed to stop eating so much darn bread – and got settled back at the dining table. No sooner had she sunk into the chair and picked up the letter to open it than the house phone rang.
Murphy’s bloody law.
She looked from the unopened letter to where she’d left the handset on the bench. Deciding she better grab it, in case it was William and he was still in town – she’d actually been looking forward to his next visit – she made a dash for it before it went to message bank.
The caller ID was private. ‘Hello?’ Her voice sounded far away, broken.
There was nothing but silence at the other end. The unnerving occurrence at the dam came back in full force. This was all too much to be a coincidence, surely? Pressing the phone into her ear more firmly, she could hear faint breathing, and then the line went crackly. Cold trickled down her spine.
‘Hello,’ she said louder, almost angrily.
Radio silence was followed by the rhythmic beep of an ended call. The sound of the ceiling fan whirring overhead was now all she could hear as she took the receiver from her ear and stared at it. Maybe someone had pocket-dialled her, or they just had a bad line and would try again later when they had better reception. Phone service wasn’t fabulous out here. Or maybe some kids were playing stupid tricks. Maybe it had simply been a wrong number.
Annoyed, and shaken, she slammed the phone back down on the bench – if it rang again, it could go to message bank. Staring at it, she noted how fast her heart was racing, and the quiver in her hands, but what was she meant to do about it? Go to Logan and tell him the boogieman was after her because she was hearing things in the bushes, and someone had rung her from a private number and then hung up? Not bloody likely – she’d look like a crazy person. She stomped back to the table, slumped down in her chair and turned her attention back to the envelope. She carefully opened it, took out the letter and unfolded it, her hands trembling from the events of the day and anxiety for what she was about to read.
To my darling Nina-Jane,
Well, a week has passed, and you’re still here. I have to say I’m so pleased you are – good on you for being so strong. I know you will be finding it hard being back here after all this time, especially without me there to boss you about, but trust me, if you can stick this out, you will learn so much, about me, and also about yourself. You deserve to know the truth, about everything. I know you used to get so frustrated when I refused to speak of your parents, but I made a promise that I had to keep, and you very well know I’m a woman of my word. Nevertheless, now, thanks to circumstances I never saw coming, my final wish o
f being able to tell you who you truly are has been granted to me; I can finally speak the words I’ve wanted to for all of your life. As I explained to your father, it was the only way I could truly find peace in the end, and it wasn’t like he could say no to a dying woman, now, could he? So here goes …
As you already know, your mother died when you were a wee child, and I adopted you as my very own. I just chose to never tell you how or why because it isn’t an easy thing to talk about. I actually knew your mother very well. You see, Nina, she was my best friend, all the way through primary and high school and beyond. Coming from a broken family – not very common in our day – she struggled immensely with depression and self-doubt in her teenage years. But then, at eighteen years young, she and your father went on their very first date, and they fell madly, deeply, in love, and everything seemed good in her world again. Not long after, they were married, and two months after the wedding she found out she was pregnant with you. Her pregnancy was a troubled one – many times she almost lost you, and afterwards, she suffered terribly with postnatal depression, not that we would have called it that in those days. With your father away working most of the time, I was there to help her through it as best I could, quite often taking you overnight so she could get some rest. This is how you and I formed our special bond, one that has lasted throughout the years.
There was a time where she seemed to have pushed through the darkness, and whenever I saw her, she seemed content, happy almost. But then, a few weeks after you turned three, your mother and father had a terrible fight, and she came to me for comfort. She was drunk when she arrived, and I gave her a sleeping tablet and made her have a lie-down to try and calm her. I took you for a little walk and when we returned to the homestead, she was gone. I anxiously waited for her to come home, but when day turned to night, I knew something must be terribly wrong. I rang your father, and he told me she had a habit of going walkabout and to not get too concerned. This was news to me, but we agreed to wait until morning, and then we would call the police if she hadn’t returned. I often wonder if that was where we went wrong, not searching for her straight away, but then, I had you to think about, and your father was away for work, so I cannot blame myself for what happened, and neither should your father.
By the time first light came, I was frantic with both lack of sleep and worry for her safety. I rang the police and reported her missing, but while they were asking me questions on the phone, you slipped out the back door. Bless your beautiful heart, Nina, you were trying to find your mummy. It didn’t take me long to realise you were missing – you were always humming, you see, and when I couldn’t hear your voice, I went looking for you. I was hysterical when I discovered your dolls all over the floor, the back door open, and you gone. I called and called your name, searched far and wide, and finally, by the grace of God, I stumbled across you. You were standing at the water’s edge of the top dam, as pale as a ghost, staring at your mother floating face down in the water. I grabbed you and cradled you to me, devastated you had seen such a horrendous thing – a sight no child should ever have to bear witness to. As much as I understand she was in a very dark place, I’m still mad to this day, to think that she could do something so stupid, so selfish, when she had you to think of. Believing her life wasn’t worth living, she’d overdosed on sleeping pills, and wandered into the middle of the dam. As much as it destroyed me, Nina, losing my dear friend – not to mention the guilt I felt with having given her the bottle of sleeping tablets in the first place – I know it destroyed you on an even deeper level, and I tried to protect you from that pain by keeping all of this from you, and giving you the most normal, loving life I could. This, of course, is why you refuse to go into a dam. There are too many dark memories you’ve chosen to bury as a way to cope. But maybe this can help you move past the shadow of them.
I wish I were there to hold you right now, as I know you will be overcome with so many emotions. I’m so very sorry I never told you before now, I just didn’t know how to put it into words. Cowardly, I know, but please try and put yourself in my shoes and understand I did this to try and protect you. It may have been wrong of me, but at the time, I thought I was doing the right thing.
Now, I know this is also going to leave you wondering about your father, who he is and why he has never been a part of your life, but that is for another time – this is a lot for you to take in. Step by step, Nina, so you can deal with one thing at a time. I do promise, in the next few weeks, you will find out who he is, amongst other things that are going to change your life, I’m sure.
Until we ‘chat’ again, all my love, forever and ever,
Bea Xo
In complete shock and feeling utterly numb, Nina had sat for hours with Bea’s letter in her lap, staring out the kitchen window as the sun gradually bowed out gracefully for the splendour of the moon. Now showered, but without an appetite, she padded through the house towards the back verandah, with both Maxwell and Tom at her ankles. Her mug of hot chocolate in her hands, she sank down on the top step and rested her bare feet out in front of her, crossing them at the ankles. Maxwell flopped down beside her, and Tom curled up against her thigh, his purring and Maxwell’s panting all the comfort she needed right now.
At least animals were an open book, whereas humans were hard to read – she was finding more and more reasons not to trust them. Bea’s letter had been an almighty blow, and she was fighting coiling emotions of anger, sadness and disappointment, in both her mother and Bea, along with a certain kind of relief that she now knew why she feared the dam so very much – finally, it all made perfect sense. After all this time, she knew the truth, although it was going to take her a while to process it. And it felt good, albeit bittersweet, to ultimately be making some sort of sense of her life, as crazy as it sounded. She’d always known her mother was no longer on this earth, but how she died, by her own hands, was something she was going to take a long time to come to terms with, accept, and ultimately forgive. Because in the grand scheme of things, no matter what dark place her mother was in, she’d gone and left her. Thank god for Bea.
She sighed and shook her head. She couldn’t stop wondering who her father was, and the reasons why he had been MIA all of her life. Maybe he was dead too. Maybe he was in jail. Maybe she knew him as somebody else. Maybe he was just a selfish son of a bitch who didn’t want anything to do with her. Maybe he blamed himself for her mother’s death, and simply couldn’t face up to her because of that … There were so many maybes, so many possibilities, that it was driving her insane, as was the fact she was not going to discover the answers until Bea was good and ready to give them to her. Even from the grave, the woman had a tight hold of the reins, and as much as that infuriated her, knowing Bea like she did, there’d be a very good reason for why she’d chosen this way to reveal things to her, piece by piece. Even so, she couldn’t help but be mad, so much so that if Bea were standing in front of her right now, she’d have told her so. At the end of all of this, she better know everything she needed to move forward in her life and not have it complicated even more.
She seriously needed to stop thinking, and just be …
She held in a deep breath and then slowly exhaled while welcoming the cool night breeze and the sounds of the Australian bush coming alive – the soft chirruping of crickets and calls of tawny frogmouths blended beautifully. The smell of the earth and bushlands was something she wished she could bottle and take back to Brisbane with her, and the ear-ringing silence was a special something that a person had to experience at least once in their life – she was lucky enough to have known it for half of hers.
If only she could stay …
Soon the vastness and peacefulness gently pulled her in as if into a mother’s soothing embrace, filling her with a stillness that only country air and no sight of another living soul could give. She sighed softly. As hard as it was being here without Bea, she so needed this right now. And then it occurred to her that Bea had known it too – it must be one
of the reasons she’d lured her back here. The city did not allow for such reflection, or provide such simple solace for dealing with grief – there were too many distractions to sidestep the pain of it, which was why she’d stayed in Brisbane for so long. There’d been many things in her past that she’d wanted to avoid, but now she was here again, with her childhood and teenage years confronting her whichever way she turned. Did she really want to keep on running, to spend her life avoiding and pretending things never happened, that she didn’t make the choices she had?
Overcome with unanswerable questions, and wanting to stay in her state of stillness, she turned her attention outwards once more. With twilight upon her, stars began to cluster in their inky bed, glittering with rhinestone brilliance around a silvery half-moon. A scurry of feet across the awning above her had her watching a brushtail possum elegantly fly through the air to grab onto a branch of the jacaranda tree beside the house with its razor-sharp claws. Its beady eyes turning to Nina, it considered her for a few short moments before quickly clambering to the top, out of sight – the only sign it had ever been there was the rustling leaves. Over in Frank, Betty and Don’s paddock, a curlew sung its eerie cry, and its mate echoed it. Never too keen on the sound, Nina quivered – it was so similar to a woman’s screams that she’d sometimes wondered while growing up if in fact it was.
In awe of the magnificent landscape, filled with so little yet so very much, she gazed out at it over the rim of her mug when something caught her eye. The movement was so small, so subtle, she wasn’t sure if it was the moonlight playing tricks with her eyes. She looked to Maxwell, fast asleep at her side. And Tom hadn’t moved a muscle. Maybe she was just being stupid, paranoid even, but after being scared out of her wits earlier at the dam, and with the silent caller not long afterwards, her nerves were on a razor’s edge.
