by Janet Gover
‘Come along now, Jenny.’
She followed Alice down the path and shut the front gate behind them.
The school was a short walk from the house where Alice had lived since she was a young bride of twenty. Alice didn’t so much walk there as make a procession, like the old kings and queens Jenny had read about in history classes. Every person on the street stopped to greet her.
‘Aunt Alice, you’re looking well.’
‘Hi, Aunt Alice, nice day, isn’t it?’
‘Auntie Alice. Why has Jenny got cake? I want cake!’
‘Not this time.’ Alice ruffled the youngster’s hair. ‘Maybe next time, but only if you say please.’
It wasn’t just the school that was mostly populated by Aunt Alice’s relatives. Most of the townspeople were nieces and nephews or great-nieces and great-nephews, by marriage if not by birth. Jenny wasn’t entirely sure of her own relationship—great-great-niece? Her mother was the daughter of one of Alice’s cousins. Not that it mattered. They were all family to Aunt Alice. Including the ones who married in. Most of them were swept into Aunt Alice’s at times suffocating embrace, even those who didn’t quite come up to scratch. They were welcome right up to the moment they offended Aunt Alice or caused some hurt to a member of the family, whereupon the wrath of the Titans—or this one small, grey-haired Titan—fell upon them. There were times when being part of the family was great; birthdays and Christmas particularly. But there were also times when dancing to Aunt Alice’s tune was embarrassing and a total pain and this was one of them.
‘Here we are.’ Alice wasn’t looking the slightest bit tired when they reached the gate that led to the school grounds and the teacher’s cottage. ‘Could you get the gate please, Jenny dear?’
Jenny noticed that Alice didn’t even bother to hold the railing as she walked up the teacher’s front stairs. So much for the excuse that she was feeling a bit frail and needed Jenny to help her deliver the welcome gift.
Alice knocked sharply on the door.
‘Coming!’
The door opened to reveal Jenny’s new teacher. She was much younger than Jenny’s previous teacher and quite pretty, with short sandy hair and deep brown eyes. But she was too thin, and a little pale. Jenny wondered if she’d been sick before coming to Nyringa. She was wearing a light jumper, despite the warm day. Perhaps she’d thrown it on to appear more acceptable to guests. Some people had firm rules about visitors and visiting. Just look at Aunt Alice in her special dark blue ‘visiting’ dress, every hair carefully combed into place and her handbag on her arm.
‘Yes, hello? Can I help?’ The teacher looked over Alice’s head to see Jenny. ‘Oh, hello. Are you going to be one of my students?’
Jenny nodded. ‘I’m Jenny Harden.’
‘And I am her great-aunt Alice. Mrs Alice Dwyer.’ Alice held her hand out.
‘Um … pleased to meet you, Mrs Dwyer. I’m Meg Walker.’ The teacher shook Alice’s hand briefly. ‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting visitors and I only started moving in yesterday. But if you’d like to come in …’
Jenny was relieved. The new teacher had passed the first of Aunt Alice’s tests.
‘Meg? Do you mean Meghan? Like the young duchess? Prince Harry’s wife? A lovely name. I was named after Princess Alice. My mother was a great royalist. I am too of course. I mean, Her Majesty the Queen is such a wonderful inspiration to us all, even from so far away. Don’t you agree?’
Jenny cringed, mentally if not visibly.
‘Ah. My name is spelled differently, but um … Yes?’ The new teacher’s face was a mask of uncertainty.
Aunt Alice nodded. ‘I brought you this as a welcome gift.’
Jenny stepped forward and held out the cake, safe inside a round tin that Jenny was certain was older than she was.
‘Oh. That’s very kind of you.’ Miss Walker took the cake tin carefully. ‘Would you like to come in and have a cup of tea while we sample it?’
‘No, thank you. I wouldn’t want to intrude. I imagine you are still getting settled. Perhaps another time.’ Alice bestowed her most gracious smile on the teacher. ‘I know that Monday is your first day at school. I do hope Jenny behaves herself. She is a very bright girl, but has a tendency to cheekiness.’
Jenny rolled her eyes, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her. Aunt Alice could be so embarrassing. How would she face Miss Walker in school next week?
But the new teacher caught her eye, and one corner of her mouth twitched slightly. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad after all.
‘I’m sure we’ll get on just fine,’ Miss Walker said.
‘Excellent. Well, I won’t keep you.’ With that, Aunt Alice turned and set off down the stairs.
Jenny looked at Miss Walker, mentally pleading with her to forget all about this visit.
‘I’ll see you on Monday then, Jenny.’ The teacher stepped back into the cottage and closed the door.
Jenny heard the key being turned in the lock. She followed her aunt out of the school grounds, closing the gate behind them.
‘Let’s walk back through the town.’ Alice set off.
Alice seemed to consider it her right to be accompanied by a family member whenever she was out and about. Personally, Jenny thought that was a bit much. Aunt Alice was as healthy as a horse, and Jenny had much better things to do. But she followed obediently, because she did love her aunt, and would never forgive herself—or be forgiven by the family—if something happened. Not that it would, but it was a sunny afternoon and it was school holidays for another couple of days. She wanted to make the most of it. Her phone vibrated. That would be Kate again, and this time she fished the phone out of her pocket.
Did U just meet the new teacher?
OMG it was sooo embarrassing
That’s Aunt A 4 U. What’s the teacher like?
Young. Pretty.
U’ll be teacher’s pet now
Where are you?
The conversation came to an abrupt halt when Jenny almost collided with Aunt Alice, who had suddenly stopped in the middle of the footpath. She was glaring at a big double-cab four-wheel-drive ute pulling out from the kerb in front of the town’s only real estate agency, run by Jenny’s father. Jenny looked at the logo painted on the car’s door as it went past. It was a simple red and white illustration, and the writing above it was black and stylish, but still easy to read.
‘Oh. A circus. We’ve never had a circus here, have we, Aunt Alice? They always go to Glen Innes or Grafton. I wonder if one is coming now? That would be fun.’
‘Over my dead body.’
Jenny was shocked by the vehemence in Alice’s words. ‘But, Aunt—’
‘I’m going to find out what that is all about. If your father has anything to do with—’ Alice waved a dismissive hand. ‘You can go now, Jenny. Your father can see me home.’
Aunt Alice disappeared through the front door of the estate agency. Jenny was half-tempted to follow and find out what was going on, but she could see Kate and some of the girls from school across the road. Did she have news for them! She waved and darted across to join them.
There were times when Alice struggled to remember who was who in her extended family. Not that she would ever admit it, of course. She had been the youngest by far of nine children, born very late to her parents. Her brothers and sisters had all married and settled locally and raised large families. There was something about the family that kept most of them wedded to this place, and Alice liked it that way. She and her late husband Charles hadn’t been blessed with children. As her brothers and sisters had passed on, Alice had fallen into the role of mother and then grandmother to all her nieces, nephews—and the grands. She had an abundance of them and they were all, in Alice’s opinion, in need of a strong guiding hand. She told herself her mothering skills had not been wasted, but on some long nights, when the sound of the heavy rain on her iron roof made sleep impossible, she felt that tiny kernel of disappointment burning in its hidden place, dee
p in the corner of her heart.
‘Aunt Alice, I didn’t expect to see you. Come in. Come in. Please, take a seat.’ Peter Harden always made a terrible fuss over her. She’d heard, in confidence of course, that he’d thought Alice was incredibly wealthy when he married her niece Barbara. And he knew that his daughter was one of Alice’s favourites. Obviously he thought he’d get his hands on a good portion of Alice’s money when she died. She didn’t intend to shuffle off this mortal coil any time soon, but when she did, he was in for a surprise.
Alice didn’t really approve of Peter, and Barbara was a quiet woman. Ineffectual. How the two of them had produced such a beautiful and bright daughter, Alice would never know.
‘Peter, did I see a circus truck parked outside your office?’
‘Yep. I’ve just closed a deal on the old Connelly place. Got a great price for it too.’ The man was bursting with pride.
‘That’s good news. That place has been empty for too long. But what’s that got to do with the circus?’
‘That’s who’s bought it. A circus.’
Alice took a couple of deep breaths. Even after a lifetime, the pain and sense of defeat were still there. ‘They are going to put a circus on the Connelly place? Roger Connelly, God rest his soul, would turn in his grave at the thought.’
‘No. No. There’s a woman, she’s bought the place. Apparently, she’s a retired circus owner or about to retire or something.’ Peter’s desperate rush to reassure her would have been funny had she been willing to find anything about a circus funny.
‘So it’ll be just her?’
‘I don’t think so. Her grandson has done all the paperwork. I guess she lives with him. I don’t know if there’s any other family. But I do know they were very keen on the outbuildings. There’s a good set of yards out there, and a couple of really useful sheds. Maybe they have elephants or something to house.’
‘Don’t be stupid, Peter. Circuses don’t have elephants any more. It’s against the law.’ At least, Alice thought it was.
‘Anyway, there’ll be a few new people around. They might bring some money into the town. That couldn’t hurt.’
What could Peter Harden possibly know about the hurt that a circus could cause? Alice did, only too well. ‘What’s this woman’s name?’
Peter opened a file on his desk and flicked through some papers. ‘Lucienne Chevalier. Sounds French, doesn’t it? But the grandson talked like one of us.’
If he was circus, he wasn’t one of ‘us’ to Alice’s mind. ‘Write that name down for me, and then you can drive me home.’ Alice suddenly didn’t feel up to walking, even the short distance to her home.
‘I’d love to drive you, Aunt Alice, but the office … I’m the only one here.’
‘You can shut the front door for a few minutes. Unless you want to make me walk home alone. At my age …’ Alice patted her chest in a dramatic gesture and then started to get up, making it seem like an almost insurmountable effort. Normally she was more than capable of walking the short distance to her home. But now she was feeling a little shaky. Although her age didn’t help, the real reason were the memories swirling through her head. The cheering crowd. The elephants walking down the street outside this very room. Those beautiful horses and the ethereal girl who danced on their backs. A boy with dark eyes and curly hair and a face she had never quite forgotten.
‘Of course not, Aunt Alice. Of course not. I’ll drive you home. Just give me a minute to lock the back door.’
Peter’s car was big and comfortable, but that hardly mattered because it only took three minutes to drive from his office to Alice’s home. For once, Alice took his arm as she climbed the five steps to her veranda. But she didn’t allow him to unlock her door for her. Nor did she allow him inside.
‘Thank you, Peter. I know you’re in a hurry to return to your office, so I won’t keep you.’
‘Goodbye, Aunt Alice.’
Alice closed the door behind her with relief. Her house was her sanctuary. Normally when she returned from an afternoon outing, she’d walk through to the kitchen and make a cup of tea. Today she went into her living room and settled herself in her favourite chair opposite the big windows with the lace curtains a young bride had made for her new home so many years ago. The curtains were a little tatty now, after so many years of sunlight and washing, but Alice had never wanted to replace them. Between their slightly grey folds, she could see anyone who might walk past. For almost fifty years she had waited in this very chair for Charles to come home from the small office where he’d looked after the legal and accounting needs for most of the town and the surrounding properties. She had sat here and listened to the ticking of the carriage clock on the mantelpiece, counting down the lonely hours. For the ten years since she had buried her husband in the town’s small cemetery, she had waited for her many nieces and nephews to visit. And for all this time, she had waited for a boy who never came home.
The sideboard and all it contained was out of view behind her, but she was very aware of what lay in its top drawer. People said memories faded over time. Pain too. And anger. They were right of course; these things did fade over time. But they never left. They were simply waiting for something to send them crashing back into her heart.
Alice sat and stared out the window, listening to the silence of her home and wishing with all her heart that Peter Harden was not such a good salesman.
CHAPTER
3
Simon had been hard at work on the old Connelly place. Lucienne hadn’t seen the property for several weeks, but while the lawyers had been sorting out the paperwork, Simon had made several trips to get improvement works and renovations underway. Lucienne had declined to join him, instead staying with the circus. She knew she didn’t have much time left with them, and she didn’t want to give up even one town, one performance, one night. But today was the day Lucienne Chevalier officially became the owner of the old Connelly place. This would be her first—and her last—real house. She hoped they had found a home that would be good for both of them. Her grandson needed to heal, both his body and his soul. As for herself, she needed to recover from a loss so cruel that even now the memory left her breathless.
The ramshackle gateway was still there, as different from the places of her youth as Lucienne was now from the person she had been back then. But the gateway could be renewed, just as Lucienne hoped this place would renew her and Simon. She tried to feel happy as Simon turned their vehicle off the highway and onto the gravel track, but the grief remained, unmoved by even such an important day. It might be that the essence of this day was making it stronger; making the emptiness more pronounced.
All she felt was old.
‘Welcome to your new home, Grand-mère.’
‘Merci.’
The drive leading to this place that she was to call home was nothing like the sweeping paved entrances to the great houses of Europe where she had once been fêted. The simple horse float they were towing did not compare to the grand parades up the great avenues she had once known. Growing old was never good, and growing old in a young country was worse. But worst of all was growing old before it was time because life was too full of pain.
As the cluster of buildings became visible through the trees, Lucienne wanted to tell Simon that she had changed her mind. She wanted to ask him to turn around and take her back. Back to the circus and the people and the crowds. But that would mean going back to the moment that haunted them. They had to get past that awful day if they were to find any sort of a future. And at this moment, Lucienne wasn’t sure they ever would. She cared less about her own future than she did for Simon’s. He was too young to give up on life.
Simon pulled the four-wheel drive up to the cluster of outbuildings and got out of the car. He knew better than to even suggest she get settled in the house before he dealt with the occupant of the horse float. It took him just a moment to step to her side of the car and open the door. Lucienne got down from the car and walked to th
e float.
‘We are here, mon colibri. My hummingbird.’
An answering nicker came from inside the float as Simon began to lower the ramp. He disappeared inside and a few moments later, an elegant grey mare backed out of the float, immediately turning her head to locate Lucienne.
Lucienne took the mare’s lead and buried her face in the animal’s thick white mane, speaking softly to her. The mare was not tall, nor was she young, but her breeding showed in every clean line of her body. Her back was not as straight as it once had been and some of the grey around her muzzle had been put there by age, but her dark brown eyes still shone as she nuzzled Lucienne’s hand for the small treat that was always offered.
‘This is your new home, Coco,’ Lucienne told her horse as she used her fingers to comb the long white forelock. ‘Here we will rest for a while, together as always.’
Waving away Simon’s help, Lucienne let the mare into the stable block, well prepared for their arrival. There was a deep bed of straw in the first stall and the open feed-room door revealed a good supply of hay and even a bag of carrots. There were hooks where a silver-studded bridle would soon hang and places for a saddle and rugs ready for the winter months. Lucienne led Coco into the stall and removed her halter. There were a few moments of ear rubbing before the old mare turned to look at her surroundings. She moved away a couple of steps and sank her muzzle into the clean water that was waiting for her. As Lucienne left the stall, the mare was nosing for a place in the straw to lie down and sleep. Lucienne knew exactly how she felt.
She waited until Simon had hung a hay net for Coco and together they left the stables.
