Ocean Child

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Ocean Child Page 22

by Tamara McKinley


  The silence was heavy in the cluttered kitchen. Clarice’s anger was at boiling point, but as she saw the hurt and shame in her sister’s face it dissolved. ‘Oh, Eunice,’ she breathed, ‘thank God you asked me to come.’

  ‘I didn’t want to,’ she replied, her cheek resting on the baby’s head.

  ‘You still haven’t forgiven me,’ she said flatly.

  Eunice’s brown eyes stared at her from across the table. ‘I realised long ago what sort of man I’d married,’ she said, ‘but I refused to acknowledge it. What happened between you was shocking, and although it has taken a long time, I have come to terms with that.’

  ‘I didn’t encourage him, Eunice.’

  Her gaze was steady. ‘Not deliberately, I know. But Lionel could never resist a pretty, besotted young woman – and you did think you were in love with him, didn’t you?’

  Clarice dipped her chin. ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘What a fool I was. I’m so sorry, Eunice. Can you ever truly forgive me?’

  ‘There is nothing to forgive. Not any more.’ She reached across the table for Clarice’s hand. ‘It was my pride that stopped me from writing, and as the years went on it became harder to find the right words to say. But when Lorelei came along and my health deteriorated, I knew I had to see you again before it was too late.’

  Clarice moved around the table to Eunice and gently embraced her. ‘Oh, my dear, dear sister,’ she sighed. ‘We will see this through, you and I, and I promise I will never hurt you again.’

  Eunice’s smile faltered as tears threatened. ‘Would you like to hold Lorelei?’

  Clarice hesitantly picked up the little girl and perched her on her hip. She had little experience of small children and in truth she was terrified of dropping her, but as she looked at the child she found she was being solemnly regarded by cornflower-blue eyes. Her heart melted as a star-like hand reached up to touch her face, and as they gazed at one another, Clarice was overwhelmed with the most powerful love she’d ever experienced.

  *

  Clarice had dried her tears and covered Bess with a blanket. Vera would soon come bustling down, and she could ask the gardener to bury Bess beneath the magnolia. It had been Bess’s favourite spot during the warm summer days, and she would be at peace there.

  She sat in the silence, her thoughts returning to that other kitchen in Tasmania. The depth of her love for Lorelei had come as a surprise to her, but it had never faltered. As for Gwen – she had kept her silence, and to this day Clarice had no idea of the identity of Lorelei’s father.

  *

  Joe appraised Ocean Child and decided he was putting on weight. ‘Enough pasture for you, mate. Time you went indoors and stuck to a diet.’

  He led the colt out of the spelling paddock and into the yard where Bob was grooming Moonbeam. ‘Racing fodder from now on for this young …un, Bob, or he’ll be lumbering down the Hobart racetrack like an overstuffed wombat.’

  ‘Righto.’ Bob made a last sweep of the cloth over Moonbeam’s glossy hindquarters and grinned with pride. ‘Reckon I could get first prize for the best-turned-out filly, Joe? Eliza would like that, wouldn’t she?’

  Joe smiled. ‘I thought you’d given your heart to Dolly now,’ he teased.

  Bob blushed. ‘Fair go,’ he grumbled. ‘A bloke’s gotta keep his options open, ain’t …e?’

  Joe shook his head at the fickleness of Bob’s passions and headed for his office. There was time before tea to finish the accounts, write out the order for the feed merchant and make sure everything was in place for the race meeting. He was deeply immersed in paperwork when his mother interrupted.

  ‘I’ve brought you a cup of tea,’ she said, plonking it down on his desk.

  ‘Thanks,’ he muttered, his finger marking the place on the account sheet. He looked up at her and grinned. ‘You don’t usually bring me tea. You must be after something.’

  Molly sat down and began to tidy up the papers on his desk.

  ‘Don’t do that,’ he said hastily. ‘I can never find anything when you tidy up, so leave it, Ma, please.’ He eyed her affectionately as she slumped back in the chair and folded her arms. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said, and fell silent.

  Joe gave up on the accounts and stretched out his long legs. ‘And?’ he prompted.

  ‘Lorelei doesn’t look at all like Gwen, does she?’

  ‘From the little I’ve seen of Gwen, I would say not,’ he replied, wondering where this was going.

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ Molly sighed and picked at the corner of her apron. ‘But she does remind me of someone, and I’ve been wracking my brains to think who.’

  He smiled and dug his hands in his pockets. ‘And did you come to any conclusions?’

  ‘Mmmm.’ Molly’s gaze clouded over as she gave it more thought. ‘It was a long time ago, and we were just kids, but …’ Her gaze cleared as she focused on him, her usually sunny expression solemn. ‘I’ve never told you why I loathe that woman so much, have I?’

  He shifted in his chair. ‘Are we talking about Gwen, or Lulu?’

  ‘Gwen of course,’ she said crossly. ‘Do keep up, Joe.’

  ‘I can only guess you and she fell out over dad,’ he replied uneasily.

  She eyed him sharply and clucked her tongue in annoyance. ‘It was nothing like that,’ she snapped. ‘Your father was the most honourable, faithful husband, and wouldn’t have given Gwen Bartholomew the time of day.’

  She leant back in the chair, her hands deep in the apron pockets. ‘But that didn’t stop her pointing the finger at him when she had that baby. She turned up here, as bold as brass, demanding money – saying she would sully his name and ruin his business if he didn’t cough up. She gave him a week to think about it.’ She blinked back angry tears. ‘We were rich then, the yard home to some of the best racehorses in the country.’

  Joe remained silent, trying to imagine his quiet, gentle father facing that vindictive harpy. No wonder his mother hated her.

  ‘I’d been away visiting a sick friend – and your grandfather was down in Hobart with a couple of horses, which was probably why Gwen chose that precise moment to pounce. Luckily your father was an honest man, and when I got back he told me everything.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Gwen had a reputation for liking the men and had made it clear she was after your dad, even though he was married and we had you. She hadn’t been best pleased when he’d given her short shrift and warned her off, so to get her revenge she tried to blackmail him into paying for her kid.’

  Joe gave a long, low whistle. ‘Surely Dad didn’t fall for that.’

  Molly’s laugh was bitter. ‘He was in a terrible state about it at first, because he thought he couldn’t prove anything. It would be his word against hers, and in the process his name would be blackened, the business destroyed.’

  She returned to shredding the hem of her apron. ‘Gwen’s name had been linked to a dozen men, and any one of them could have been the father, but I knew my Patrick was not one of them. I got out the record books and went back to the months in which that child could have been conceived. She’d arrived early, so I had to do some very careful calculations.’

  Her face brightened. ‘Your dad was in Melbourne for most of August that year and then he went straight on to Sydney for another month to look at a couple of promising fillies. He didn’t get back here until just before Christmas, so he could prove he wasn’t Lorelei’s father.’

  ‘I bet that went down like a ton of bricks with Gwen,’ Joe murmured.

  ‘Your dad, grandad and I faced her together, and she didn’t like it – but she couldn’t dispute the truth. Patrick warned her that if she spread any malicious rumours about him or his family, he would go to the police. We heard nothing more.’

  ‘I suspect that wasn’t the last of it though. If she couldn’t get money out of Dad, she’d have gone elsewhere.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Molly thoughtfully, ‘because although she’s kept
tight-lipped about the identity of the father, and no one has owned up, I think she knew all along who it was.’

  ‘Then why didn’t she just go straight to him and demand he support her and the baby?’

  ‘Because he didn’t have any money back then, and she thought Patrick was a better bet financially.’

  Joe eyed her sharply. ‘What are you trying to say, Ma?’

  ‘I think I know who Lulu’s father is.’

  Chapter 11

  Lulu had been in Tasmania for two weeks, and although Molly’s attitude seemed to have softened towards her, there was still tension between her and Dolly. Lulu She stood silently in the doorway watching Molly stuff the chickens. The gawky Dianna had gone home, Dolly was having a bath and the men were busy outside. It was the perfect time to try to make peace.

  ‘Can I help with anything?’

  Molly finished trussing the two chickens, dumped them in a roasting tin and wiped her hands on her apron. ‘Thanks, but I’m done here.’ She placed the birds in the oven and slammed the door.

  ‘It must be hard work feeding so many,’ said Lulu, ‘I admire your stamina.’

  Molly shot her a wary glance. ‘Thanks,’ she muttered, ‘but I’m used to it.’

  ‘I suppose you must be.’ Lulu sat down at the table. ‘Do you think I could have a cup of tea, Molly? I’m very dry after the evening ride-out.’

  Molly lifted the kettle on to the hob and busied herself with cups, tea and sugar. The silence was uneasy, and Lulu bent to pat one of the dogs which had sneaked into the kitchen and was sitting with its head on her lap. ‘I do like dogs, don’t you? They never let you down or judge you.’

  Molly placed two mugs of tea on the table and sat down. ‘A house isn’t a home without a couple of dogs about,’ she said, still wary. ‘Do you have one back in England?’

  Lulu nodded. ‘Her name’s Bess. My aunt Clarice gave her to me when she was just a puppy, but she’s old now.’ She sipped the tea. ‘Molly, I realise we got off to a bad start, and although you were clearly unhappy to have me here, you’ve been a marvellous hostess. I do hope we can put our differences aside and become friends.’

  Molly’s lips twitched. ‘I have no quarrel with you,’ she murmured, ‘but your friend has a sharp tongue, and I will not be spoken to like that in my own home.’

  ‘Dolly’s very protective of me,’ she replied evenly. ‘We’ve been friends for years, and although she can be tricky at times, she has a good heart.’

  ‘I can see that.’ Molly’s gaze was steady and penetrating. ‘I don’t mind admitting I didn’t want you here – but now you are, I realise I got you all wrong. You’re not a bit like Gwen, are you?’

  ‘I hope not,’ replied Lulu with feeling. ‘But then I haven’t had anything to do with her for years.’

  Molly grinned and flicked away a stray curl that dangled over her eyes. ‘I reckon you and me will get along just fine,’ she said. ‘With so many men about, we women should stick together. I get bored sometimes with all their talk of horses and races and feed and two-up – it’s been fun listening to you two talk about feminine things.’ She sighed and tugged at the vast cotton apron that covered her old trousers and shirt. ‘I can’t remember the last time I wore a dress or a fancy hat.’

  Lulu saw the wistfulness in her expression and her heart melted. Life had been tough for Molly Reilly. ‘You’ll get the chance when we go to Hobart for the race meeting,’ she said, ‘and Dolly has enough spare hats to supply Harrods – I’m sure she’ll lend you one.’

  ‘That’s kind of you, dear, but I don’t go to the races. Someone has to stay here and keep an eye on the men and horses.’ Her smile was soft. ‘No worries, love, the thought was appreciated.’

  The sound of out-of-tune singing floated down the stairs, and they shared a grin. ‘Why don’t you give the Child his bedtime apple while Dolly has her bath?’

  ‘As long as you don’t need help here.’

  Molly handed her an apple and gave her a gentle nudge towards the doorway. ‘You’re only young once,’ she said. ‘Get out of here.’

  Lulu went upstairs and grabbed a cardigan. Dolly would be occupied for at least an hour, and now things had been settled with Molly, she was looking forward to spending some quiet time with Ocean Child.

  She sat on the cane chair beside the front door and pulled on her boots as she admired the view she had come to love. The sun was almost down, the wind had dropped and the birds were returning to their night roosts with a clatter of wings and a cacophony of calls. She breathed in the perfume of honeysuckle and the sweetness rising from warm earth dampened by rain. This really was the most beautiful corner of the world, she concluded, as she gazed at the majestic trees and the great sweep of sky.

  Tucking the apple in her pocket, she strolled over to the stables, the dogs at her heels. Bob and the other stable hands were deeply involved in a game of two-up behind their living quarters. It appeared to be a nightly ritual, and she stood and watched them for a while.

  The pennies were placed on a piece of flat wood, then spun high. The anticipation mounted as every eye watched their progress to the ground. Shouts of glee and disappointment split the quietness of the evening, but the horses seemed quite inured to this and didn’t bat an eye. Bob was clearly having a lucky run, for he held out a handful of coins and winked at her before immersing himself in the next throw.

  Lulu left them to it and wandered into the yard to greet the horses who poked out their heads to watch her. She had always loved the smell and vigour of a clean stable-yard and was delighted by the inquisitiveness of the horses, who seemed so pleased to see her. She knew them all by name now, having ridden out each morning on Joe’s gentle old mare to watch them being exercised on the gallops.

  ‘Hello, boy,’ she murmured to Ocean Child. She stroked his neck and nose, and fondled his ears in the way he adored. He was drooling with pleasure and resting his chin on her shoulder as her strong fingers worked their magic.

  ‘I’m glad to see you two are getting on so well.’

  Lulu turned and smiled at Joe, who was leaning against the corner of the stable, watching her. ‘He’s just a big soft lump really,’ she replied, ‘but I do wish he didn’t dribble quite so much – my shirt’s soaked.’

  He grinned. ‘I reckon that’s got something to do with the apple in your pocket,’ he drawled, ‘but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t give it to him. He’s supposed to be on a diet.’

  Lulu’s eyes widened. ‘Why? He looks in peak condition.’

  Joe shoved away from the wall and ambled over, his boot heels ringing on the cobbles. ‘He is, and I aim to keep him that way. No more pasture and treats until after the big race.’ He looked down at her. ‘He’s the same as any human athlete,’ he explained, ‘and has to be fully prepared.’

  ‘Sorry, boy,’ she murmured to the colt. She patted his neck and stepped back, looking up at Joe as she plucked at the sodden shirt. ‘Has the rain affected the going, do you think?’

  He shook his head. ‘He likes it a bit soft, and as long as there isn’t anything too heavy coming down in Hobart over the next few days, he should be right.’

  ‘I understand another owner is arriving tomorrow. Are her horses running?’

  ‘Moonbeam’s racing in the filly’s maiden plate.’ He glanced down at her, his smile wry. ‘You’ll like Eliza. She’s a younger version of Dolly, but without the Pommy accent.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Lulu laughed. ‘Poor Joe, surrounded by bossy women. No wonder you spend most of your time with horses.’

  ‘They certainly give me less bother,’ he admitted drily. ‘You know where you are with a horse – whereas women …’

  ‘Are an entirely different species,’ she finished. She glanced at him and wondered if he’d been unlucky in love – whether the scars had made him reclusive and shy, and she had to conclude they probably had – that they were the reason he rarely left Galway House. It was a terrible shame, for he was a quiet, gentle man wit
h an attractive way about him that she had been drawn to during the past two weeks.

  Her gaze travelled from the open collar that exposed a triangle of tanned flesh, to the slim hips, strong arms and capable hands. He was more than attractive, she realised, and quickly looked away.

  She pulled her rambling thoughts together and dug her hands in her pockets, only to find the forgotten apple. With a questioning look to Joe, she fed it to one of the other horses and hoped Ocean Child wasn’t watching.

  *

  Joe noticed how the dying sun sparked gold, bronze and copper in her hair, and the way she seemed so at ease in the stable-yard. He’d been watching her for some time before he spoke to her, and he realised he finally felt comfortable with her. The fact that he’d left his hat in the office was testament to that, and it came as a pleasant surprise to discover she appeared to accept who he was, even liked what she saw and wasn’t repulsed.

  He caught her eye and felt the heat rush through him as he wondered if she had read his thoughts. He cleared his throat and looked at his boots. ‘Any plans for tomorrow?’

  ‘I’d like to come up to the gallops as usual. It’s exciting watching Dolly giving you all a run for your money.’

  ‘Yeah, she’s quite a girl,’ Joe agreed. ‘I never suspected she could ride like that – and over the sticks too. If she wasn’t a sheila, I’d give her a job tomorrow as a jockey.’

  Lulu grinned. ‘She’s been hunting and competing in point-to-point since she could sit in a saddle. I envy her actually, because if I tried to ride like that I’d end up in bed for weeks.’

  ‘Dolly said you have a problem with your heart.’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s more of an inconvenience than a problem. I’ve learnt to live with it.’ She seemed reluctant to discuss her health for she swiftly changed the subject. ‘I’ve had a couple of messages come through from girls I went to school with, and thought I’d visit them and the old school tomorrow. After that I’ll take another walk around town. I didn’t get to see much of it the first time.’

 

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