The Last Rose of Summer

by Di Morrissey

  ‘You know each other?’

  ‘We do now,’ said Zac winking at her.

  Elaine returned with more cans and Odette sat down in a wingback chair observing the two men. They continued talking about Zanana, the grounds and its special place in the community.

  ‘I have to confess I have never been taken inside the estate,’ said Zac. ‘Though I did go to the gates and peer through them like a kid at the zoo. But I feel I’ve been there from Odette’s passionate descriptions. And there is a principle involved, so I am happy to help save it. Zanana means a lot to Odette.’

  ‘To me too,’ said Eden. ‘Did you know we were childhood mates and played there together?’

  Zac glanced at Odette. ‘This is the caretaker’s son you once told me about?’

  ‘Yes.’ Odette felt uncomfortable, yet the two of them seemed perfectly at ease together. ‘Look, I think we should make a move soon. How are you travelling, Zac?’

  ‘By taxi. My musical director is taking my gear straight there.’

  ‘Then you can both come with me,’ decided Eden. ‘The fewer cars the better — traffic and parking might be a bit of a drag. Are you ready, Elaine?’

  Odette and Elaine insisted on sitting in the back of Eden’s car to give the tall men more leg room. Elaine gave Eden directions for a short cut to avoid the city traffic. Eden and Zac spent most of the trip talking about architecture and the environment.

  Zac glanced over his shoulder. ‘You’re very quiet, Odette. I was telling Eden about Peace Valley. You should take him there.’

  Eden had been right in anticipating the difficulties with parking. He nosed the car through a steady stream of people heading towards the grassy area in front of the stage. He aimed for a roped-off area with a sign saying Official Cars Only, manned by a committee member wearing a name tag and a red paper rose. He glanced in the car, grinned, undid the rope and waved them through. Eden parked behind the stage area.

  As soon as they got out of the car Flora Bramble came bustling over, resplendent in a full skirted frock of large roses, high heels and a small straw hat with a large silk rose pinned to its brim.

  Odette made the introductions and Mrs Bramble pumped Zac’s hand enthusiastically. ‘We are so thrilled you agreed to be here. You’ve brought a lot of people out, which all helps our cause.’

  Mrs Bramble shook hands with Eden and Elaine and gave Odette a hug. ‘How pretty you look, Odette.’

  ‘You look very smart too,’ responded Odette while at the same time feeling that Mrs Bramble had gone a little over the top with the theme. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Elaine flashing raised eyebrows at the two men.

  ‘Do you like this? I made it myself, it’s upholstery material but don’t tell anyone,’ she chuckled to Zac.

  Zac eyed her up and down admiringly. ‘Mrs Bramble, you look like a wonderful comfortable armchair.’

  ‘Well, don’t sit on me! Give me a hug, Zac. I adore your music.’

  The four of them laughed as Zac gave her a warm embrace. ‘Now make yourselves at home back here, and when it’s time, walk up on the stage. Your microphone and speaker are set up, Zac, and your musical man has your guitar and says everything is set. I’ll tell you when it’s time.’

  For the next forty-five minutes people continued to pour into the park. It was the first time that many of them had ever taken an interest in the grand old mansion, indeed most had never even seen it. The house was invisible behind a screen of trees, and secure behind a high fence and gates of ornate cast iron. The place exuded mystery.

  At a signal from Mrs Bramble, Odette, Eden and Zac filed onto the stage and took their seats. Mrs Bramble sat beside Odette, refolding a sheet of paper in her hands.

  The mood for the rally was set at once by the Kincaid Brass Band who marched across the park to the stage with a stirring rendition of the turn of the century marching tune, ‘Soldiers of the Queen’.

  ‘I thought it would be rather nice to have some historic music,’ said Mrs Bramble to Eden and Zac with unconcealed pride in her attention to organisational detail. ‘Captures the Federation atmosphere, I feel, and of course there is a link to the role of Zanana as a home for war veterans.’

  A squad of marching girls strutted behind the band and Mrs Bramble led the crowd in a big round of applause as they halted in front of the stand. A bugler from the band sounded a fanfare and scores of children ran forward from behind the refreshment tent, each holding aloft a dozen balloons on strings. To a chorus of ‘Save Zanana’, they released the balloons in front of the stage and, as they soared into the sky, the band struck up again and the crowd cheered. Mrs Bramble beamed.

  It was at this point that the mayor, the local State member of parliament for Kincaid and Alan Harper from Hacienda arrived. Mrs Bramble waved them up onto the stage and the crowd hushed.

  She turned to Odette and whispered. ‘My gosh, I’m all come over. My knees are shaking.’ Her rouge stood out in two bright pink spots on her powdered cheeks.

  ‘It’s all right, Mrs B,’ Odette reassured her. ‘Just imagine you’re having a chat over the fence with your neighbour. Go for it.’

  For the first time in her adult life, Flora Bramble was literally holding centre stage. She stood at the microphone and to Odette’s surprise, said nothing, looking around the crowd of more than a thousand faces instead.

  Then she smiled and said, ‘Friends, what a lovely day it is for Kincaid today’. The crowd cheered, whistled, applauded and the enthusiastic bugler sounded another short fanfare, ending on a slightly off-key note.

  Eden was dumbstruck. Zac was grinning from ear to ear, and Odette caught Elaine in the audience barely able to control herself but giving the thumbs-up signal of approval.

  Mrs Bramble coughed softly and the amplification hushed the crowd. With an almost Churchillian sense of timing and phrasing she threw the next sentence to the crowd. ‘What a great day for a fight!’ Again the crowd exploded and on stage the man from Hacienda looked decidedly uncomfortable.

  A raised hand quietened the audience and Mrs Bramble went on, ‘Yes, the fight is well and truly on, and I have news for you all . . . we are going to win’. More applause. She raised her hand again. ‘First I want you all to be fully aware of just what we are fighting for.’

  She gave a brief history of Zanana, and outlined the special place it held in the area’s history. She listed the reasons why it needed to be preserved and argued that the people should have a say on its future association with the community.

  She wound up her speech with a hint of what was to come. ‘Now, finally, I have this to say to you . . . we are fighting today for more than Zanana, much more. We are fighting for integrity and honesty and vision in our local government. It has been sadly lacking in recent weeks and it’s up to us to serve notice on our councillors — and most of them are here in the audience today — serve notice on them that we, the voters, aren’t going to let them get away with things, not a sausage.’

  There was a burst of applause and laughter.

  Mrs Bramble then introduced the member of parliament. He prattled platitudes with a set smile, commending the crowd for their interest in community affairs and promising to convey to the government the expressed feelings of the meeting. He cautiously avoided any comment that could have been interpreted as favouring one side or the other.

  Alan Harper from Hacienda was greeted with a chorus of boos when he stepped forward to the microphone. He read a carefully worded statement that attempted to reassure the public that Hacienda really intended to press on with the Davenport garden suburb concept, that the company was sympathetic to the preserving of the mansion at Zanana, and that the company would indeed consider the wishes of the community, which was why he was at the rally.

  There was only a small scatter of polite applause when he sat down, and many more boos.

  The mayor spoke for only a minute, expressing admiration for the community interest in the issue and assuring everyone that council wou
ld, as always, act in the best interests of the ratepayers and residents.

  Mrs Bramble then introduced Eden. ‘Friends, we were going to have quite a few speakers extolling the virtues of our cause. But we have cancelled their speeches. Instead we have an unexpected speaker and I know you are going to be stunned at what he has to say. Mr Eden Davenport.’

  The crowd didn’t know whether or not to applaud until Mrs Bramble began to do so. The Hacienda man looked more uncomfortable than ever.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ began Eden in a steady voice, ‘it is a humbling experience to be standing here before you today. I am here because of the dedication and professionalism of someone who has had an extraordinary role in the whole strange Zanana affair — Miss Odette Barber.’ He turned towards Odette and gave her a brief smile. She blushed.

  The crowd was hushed as Eden went on to announce that he was publicly ending his association with Hacienda because he did not approve of some company activities that had been revealed to him, and that all monies earned from his Hacienda commission would be turned over to the campaign to save Zanana.

  ‘I believe I have been used as a pawn. My principles have been compromised and I stand on my principles — I quit.’

  It was a bombshell. The crowd cheered and clapped and the Hacienda man stormed off the stage. Mrs Bramble rushed to Eden and embraced him. When she let him go he sat beside Odette and took her hand. She gave it a little squeeze, then prepared to take her turn at the microphone as Mrs Bramble introduced her.

  Odette adjusted the microphone and spoke with quiet authority. ‘As Mrs Bramble has told you, Zanana was part of my life when I was a young girl. Little did I know this distant association would one day lead to this.’ She swept an arm around the audience. ‘It’s very heartening to know that so many people now share in this attachment to Zanana.

  ‘In recent weeks detailed and intensive investigations into the ownership of the estate, the affairs of the proposed developers, and the conduct of certain councillors have revealed facts that add up to one thing . . . the rezoning application has to be rejected, totally.’ There was a burst of applause.

  ‘Mr Davenport’s resignation from the project is an indication of the importance of the information that has been uncovered. There are legal problems associated with revealing all the information here publicly, but here is the essence of what has been uncovered and for which we have documented and substantial evidence.

  ‘Firstly, the proposed developers apparently have an agreement with the owner of Zanana to demolish the mansion and the gardens. It is a condition of the option. This is completely contrary to the impression given to everyone by the developers.’ There was an angry murmur.

  ‘Secondly, the developers recently were involved with a Kincaid councillor in a major share deal which yielded extraordinary profits to the councillor.’ There was a collective gasp.

  ‘Thirdly, a councillor who last week was against the rezoning is reported to have changed sides. The circumstances surrounding this change of heart are, to say the least, odd.’ Shouts of ‘Shame!’ and ‘Kick them out!’, rose above the angry rumble.

  ‘There is no way the council can proceed with this rezoning application, particularly in light of such widespread and passionate opposition as indicated by your turnout today. In any case, the future of Zanana is going to be decided by one person, not the council.’ The enigmatic statement puzzled the audience, but Odette moved on.

  ‘Finally,’ she added with an impish grin,’ you can read the full details in the Telegraph tomorrow and even more interesting revelations in the Gazette later next week.’

  As the applause died down she introduced Zac and there was a fresh outburst of clapping and cheering.

  Zac walked to the microphone with his guitar and began to sing his song, ‘Zanana’. He sang of an ‘oasis in the heart, a place of peace and beauty, where dreams and roses bloom’. There was silence as he sang but Odette could sense a communal emotion generated by the words and haunting music sweeping through the entire audience. Her own heart tightened and she fought to hold back tears as she listened.

  The crowd gave Zac a standing ovation and shouted for an encore. He made a small gesture and they quickly settled down again.

  Zac then spoke in a very gentle voice. ‘There inevitably comes a moment in our lives when we must stand up and be counted for what we believe in. If we raise our voices as one, we will be heard. There are those who will lead, but the rest of us must have the courage to follow.

  ‘Today is all about caring, about holding onto beauty for our children, and about love. Without love we are lost.’ The crowd began to clap, knowing Zac’s biggest hit was called ‘Without Love’.

  He began to strum the opening cords and, looking out at the smiling faces, asked them to link hands and join in the song. He effortlessly carried the crowd with him and soon everyone was swaying to the rhythm of the song and singing with deep feeling. Those onstage joined in, but Mrs Bramble and Odette found that their tears made it hard to get out the words.

  At the end of his song Zac lifted his guitar in salute, called out his thanks and goodbyes above the din and skipped down the stairs to the rear of the stage where he was besieged by autograph hunters.

  Mrs Bramble quickly dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and took control of the microphone. ‘Thank you all for coming along. Your support has been marvellous. Do make an effort to come to the council meeting, it should be interesting.’ There was a ripple of laughter. ‘Now don’t rush off. There will be more entertainment and above all don’t miss out on the lovely lamingtons at the refreshment tent.’

  The Kincaid Brass Band immediately swung into a lively version of ‘Waltzing Matilda’.

  Odette and Mrs Bramble were rushed by reporters, as well as by friends and strangers wanting to congratulate them. Eden pushed his way through to whisper to Odette that he was taking off with Zac and would see her at dinner. Zac blew her a kiss.

  Later, at the Brambles’ modest red-brick cottage, the crowd of well-wishers spilled off the small verandah, over the immaculate buffalo grass lawn and out onto the footpath. Cartons of beer materialised to supplement the huge aluminium pots of tea that neighbours had prepared. Sausage rolls, lamingtons and pumpkin scones were in abundance.

  ‘I bet there’s a big council of war taking place now,’ remarked Mick O’Toole to Odette between bites of scone topped with cream and home-made plum jam.

  ‘Probably. But I think it’s all over bar the shouting. Thanks for your help, Mick. You led us to the breakthrough.’

  The short Irishman smiled and his eyes twinkled. ‘As Zac said, you have to stand up and be counted some time. Trouble is, with t’ size of me, people think I’m sitting down when I’m really standing up.’

  Odette laughed. ‘Sitting down or standing up, Mick, you’re a big man in my book,’ she said with sincerity, and bent down and planted a kiss on his forehead.

  ‘Ah, you’ve made my day, lass. Thank you. By the way, what did you mean when you said the fate of Zanana was going to be decided by one person?’

  ‘It will all be revealed in good time, my friend. And it will make a lovely story.’

  O’Toole grinned and suddenly shouted at the top of his voice, ‘Extra! Extra! Read all about it. Zanana has a secret. Read all about it.’

  Laughing, Odette sought out Mrs Bramble in the kitchen, her high heels discarded for fluffy pink slippers, heaping food onto serving plates, while Mr Bramble began washing up a pile of cups and saucers in the sink.

  ‘Mrs B, I have to leave. I have someone coming to dinner. It’s been a wonderful day. You must be feeling very proud of the community.’ And she gave the motherly figure in the rose-patterned dress a big hug.

  Mrs Bramble returned her hug, managing to hold a cake knife and plate of buttered scones at the same time. ‘Thank you, Odette. I never dreamed we’d travel this far together when I first rang you.’

  ‘Zanana has changed our lives,’ answered Odette softly
.

  Mrs Bramble nodded. ‘Especially for you, I think. Your mum and dad would have been very proud of you. And I bet Aunt Harriet is too.’

  Odette nodded, a lump in her throat. ‘I’d better call Aunt Harriet. She’ll be anxious to hear how today went.’

  She said goodbye to Mr Bramble who cheerfully waved a soapy hand. As she stepped into the taxi, to cheering comments from the band of drinkers at the gate, she thought what a good and kindly couple they were. She decided the world would be a better place with more like the Brambles. Maybe there are a lot more like them out there, and when it’s time they too will speak up. It was a comforting thought.

  ‘Where ya goin’, luv?’ asked the taxi driver, an Italian migrant.

  She asked him to go by Luigi’s where she picked up fettucine, veal parmigiano and cassata. Her choice of dishes won smacking gestures of approval from the driver.

  At home Odette set the table, deciding to use candles, then unwound in a long leisurely bath. Soaking in the sweet smelling foam she felt the tension of the day begin to seep from her body. Mrs Bramble was right, what a journey it had been. But the struggle to save Zanana had also turned into a quest to settle the sad spirit which Odette now believed was within the Indian House.

  Zanana had been a brief bright gem in the strand of beads which had made up her childhood. The times she’d spent there, alone and with Eden, glittered between the secure simplicity of her life before her parents died and the mundaneness of life in Amberville. It wasn’t until she’d found an outlet and a focus for her emotions and her future through Fitz and the Clarion that life had suddenly gone from sepia to technicolour.

  Now, challenged and stimulated in her work and, thanks to Zac, sure of who she was, she felt she had found a contentment and an approach to life that would see her through any obstacles life might fling her way.

  She was almost drifting off to sleep in the bath when Elaine banged on the bathroom door.