‘Doc, this is the town’s petition to the Victorian State Government demanding that Counsellor Twyman be removed from office – and banned from acting as Coroner.’
The police officer’s mouth twitched beneath his bristly moustache. He added confidentially, ‘In effect, Doc, this means Twyman’s rotten plot has backfired on him. He’s the one I’m happy to run out of town.’
‘We are all of us of one mind,’ Tom Yeoman affirmed. ‘We want you to remain in Hoffnung – you and Miss Adelaide. And take care of us all just like you’ve always done.’
Holy Maude had the final word. ‘And Doc, we refuse to take no for an answer.’ She turned to the crowd. ‘Ain’t that right, folks?’
There was a roar of assent.
The band struck up on cue and the crowd burst into a ragged rendition of Waltzing Matilda, stumbling over the new words but putting their heart and soul into its verses.
Finch nudged Doc. ‘They’re expecting you to say a few words, Doc. Don’t let them down!’
Although seemingly bereft of speech, Doc Hundey finally found his voice. ‘I can fight a man like Twyman – but how can I fight the whole bang lot of you?’
The people of Hoffnung had spoken. They broke into three rousing cheers.
It was late when Clytie and Finch slipped away, after unpacking Doc’s luggage, unharnessing his cart and returning the horse to the stables.
Warmed by Doc’s whisky, they made their way back to the Priest’s house in silence.
Clytie’s thoughts revolved around the Jantzens and whatever crisis the future would bring to a head. Finch appeared to be equally preoccupied.
‘I know I should be happy, Finch, but I feel I’ve lost Adelaide, my best friend.’
‘No, you haven’t. She’s still there – inside Doc.’
They did not notice when Shadow stopped and refused to continue. Neither she nor Finch saw the reason. Rom Delaney was smoking a cigar as he watched them, half hidden by the night shadows of the bush.
Chapter 46
The Jantzen buggy stood waiting for Clytie outside the Priest’s house, its harnessed horse as well-trained as a cavalry steed. In contrast, the driver looked slightly out of place, less stylish in Rom’s hand-me-down-clothes. But the scarlet scarf knotted at his throat and the angle of his slouch hat gave him a rakish, adventurous air, reminiscent of the old sepia portraits of bushrangers.
He could easily be a reincarnation of one of the Kelly Gang.
It was an odd thought because Finch did not seem to fit into any moral code – neither a rebel nor a conformist. I don’t feel as if I’ll ever really know him – no wonder I don’t trust him.
His eyes kept flicking back to the house, as if restless to get things over and done with.
Clytie let the lace curtain fall back into place. She checked her appearance in the mirror, secured the hatpin into the straw boater and added a ribbon to the single fat braid that hung to her waist. The grey crescent shadows under her eyes betrayed her sleepless night.
‘You look like death warmed up,’ she told the girl in the mirror. ‘Have a little courage – what’s the worst that can happen? Nothing!’
The flippant words were no help. She didn’t dare think of the outcome of today’s ‘command performance’, the meeting arranged by Finch at Jantzen House.
With a show of independence she waved aside Finch’s proffered hand.
‘I’m not helpless, thank you. I’ve performed on the high wire since I was seven, so a step up into a buggy is child’s play.’
‘If you say so,’ Finch said with a shrug and drove off at a cracking pace.
‘I’m sorry, Finch. I’m a bundle of nerves. I’ve had nightmares all night – seeing that woman Bracken, her body swinging over the baby’s grave. I still can’t believe what she did. What did I ever do to harm her?’
‘I know it’s hard to believe. But in the twisted way she looked at the world, she thought she was doing you all a favour. Solving all your problems.’
‘She must have been crazy.’
‘In the end she was. Adelaide knew it.’ He hastily corrected himself. ‘That is, Doc knew it.’ Finch hesitated as if trying to avoid Rom’s name. ‘We all knew it.’
‘Everyone except me,’ Clytie said bitterly. ‘Why was I kept in the dark? No doubt because Bracken was a town institution and ran the hospital like clockwork.’
‘Her career was her sole reason for living. Knowing she could never win the love of the one man she wanted – Doc,’ Finch said gently.
Clytie refused to back down. ‘You could have told me.’
‘Please understand, Clytie, we couldn’t risk hurting you any more than you had been. We suspected the truth but there was no shred of proof without Bracken’s confession. In the end the combined pressure from all sides unhinged her mind. Agnes Mary Bracken was an ardent Catholic yet she denied herself a Christian burial, rather than be exposed and face public humiliation. Her status as a nurse was all she had.’
‘You sound as if you pity her. Don’t ask me to forgive her!’
‘I don’t. But who am I to condemn anyone for the bad choices they make on the spur of the moment? I’ve broken more of God’s laws than I care to name – struth!’
He flung an arm across Clytie’s chest to anchor her in the seat.
‘Hold on!’ he ordered, veering the buggy sharply to the left to avoid the King Brown snake that was slithering across the rocks warmed by the sun.
Clytie remained silent for the remainder of the journey. Which of God’s laws does he mean? Thou Shalt not kill? Thou Shalt not commit Adultery? Or all ten of them?
• • •
There was an unusual buzz of activity surrounding Jantzen House that was evident the moment the building came in sight. Servants were rushing about, armed with boxes, scattering in zigzag patterns between the house and stables.
The sun was already high, its heat causing Clytie’s one decent blouse to stick to her skin. Sweat ran down the back of her neck and between her breasts, and her hands were clammy inside their gloves.
Finch sensed her discomfort and handed her his handkerchief.
Clytie sighed. ‘I’ve never fitted into the genteel category of “Men sweat, ladies perspire”. Is my nose shiny? Is my hair all right?’ she stammered.
‘You’re perfect,’ Finch said casually, dabbing the end of his scarf to mop her forehead. ‘Who are you trying to impress? Noni Jantzen?’
‘You must be joking. But I am worried. Supposing he doesn’t like me?’
Finch gripped her hand. ‘The baby? Don’t be silly. Who could help loving you, Clytie?’
To counteract his last words, his tone turned brisk. ‘Come on, hop down. I haven’t got all day. I have to work for the man, remember?’
They were ushered to a fashionable Lutyens garden seat on the side veranda that was shaded by bougainvillea vines. Sunlight dappled their faces and played shadow games on the flagstone floor.
Sonny greeted them, walking erect with some effort. He waved aside his wife’s attempts to take his arm to bolster him.
Noni was dressed formally as if for an appearance in court, a jacket buttoned over her tightly laced gown, an abundance of gold chains spilling down the white Belgian lace of her blouse.
‘Thank you both for coming,’ Sonny said gently. ‘I appreciate how painful this visit must be for you, Clytie.’
‘Miss Hart is not the only one,’ Noni snapped.
‘Be that as it may, my dear, there is no point in resurrecting the ugly past that Sister Bracken bequeathed to us all. We must come to terms with whatever we can salvage for the future – for little Maxie’s sake.’
‘It is kind of you to allow me see him,’ Clytie said hopefully.
‘Don’t thank me, it was no choice of mine,’ Noni answered sharply.
Clytie noticed that despite her biting words, Noni’s eyes were ringed with tell-tale shadows that were an echo of her own.
Finch filled the breach. ‘I have not
spoken to Clytie about your plans and suggestions, Mr Jantzen. I thought it best for her to hear them directly from you.’
Before Sonny could respond, Noni’s voice rose in anger.
‘I don’t know what business this is of yours, Finch. You’re nothing but an employee who acts above his station and –’.
Sonny cut off her words. ‘Noni, I must ask you to restrain yourself. Finch is not only a valued employee, he has proved himself my friend. I trust his judgement above all men. If this conversation is too upsetting for you, I suggest you take your leave and retire to your room.’
Sonny’s soft words invited no argument.
‘I have no need to rest, thank you. I just want to see this whole wretched business over and done with as quickly as possible.’
‘As we all do, Mrs Jantzen,’ Finch said quietly.
Sonny turned to focus on Clytie and Finch as they sat side by side on the edge of their seat.
‘This tragic error of judgement was none of our making. We are all in a sense its victims. But there is no one more important than little Maximilian George Peter Jantzen. The gift of this child – and I say gift advisedly – is the best thing that ever happened to me. He is sunshine in human form. I love him dearly and I want only what’s best for his future happiness, please believe me.’
Clytie’s lips were dry. When will this farce come to an end? It’s clear they will never give him up. All I can hope for is to see him occasionally – under supervision.
Sonny was overcome by a fit of coughing, but waved aside Noni’s attempts to aid him as they moved indoors. Seated on a padded sofa, Sonny’s breath was laboured.
‘I must ask you, Finch, to speak on my behalf for a few minutes.’ He looked meaningfully at his wife. ‘Finch is party to all my future plans and decisions, my dear.’
Noni looked hostile, humiliated. Clytie also felt a wave of anger at having been excluded.
Finch took over with alacrity, aiming his words primarily at Clytie but remembering to include the Jantzens.
‘Dr Hundey has arranged for Mr Jantzen to be treated by one of the world’s finest physicians in a newly built sanatorium in Switzerland. The Schatzalp offers the best possible record for its patients’ recovery but the treatment may well take several years. Mrs Jantzen has chosen to travel with him. Their ship sails from Melbourne next month.’
‘It is my wish to travel to the Swiss Alps with a nursemaid for Maximilian or else leave him in her care at our St Kilda mansion until my husband’s recovery,’ Noni said, trying to control the tremor in her voice.
Sonny cast his wife a swift glance. ‘My decision is irrevocable, m’dear. I trust Dr Hundey’s judgement implicitly concerning Max’s welfare. The man has no cause to lie to me.’
This was an unmistakeable reference to Noni’s duplicity in concealing Sister Bracken’s letter.
Sonny turned to Clytie and Finch as if eager to reassure them. ‘It will be quite an adventure – even if it proves to be my last. The Schatzalp is the height of luxury with floor heating, an elevator and alpine botanical gardens. I’ll be rubbing shoulders with European nobility, famous artists and musicians. Only the very best people get T.B.,’ he said, his eyes twinkling.
Finch grinned in appreciation as Sonny’s bravado continued.
‘Doc says the treatment is unorthodox but effective. To take advantage of the alpine altitude, guests lie for hours outdoors in the sun.’
Sonny added in a mock tone of sotto voce, ‘I understand I shall spend some nights sleeping in the cow shed. This is said to be beneficial treatment due to the cows’ flatulence. If that doesn’t cure me, nothing will!’
Caught off guard, Finch and Clytie joined in his outburst of boyish laughter until a coughing attack overcame him.
Clytie had learned enough from Doc about the chances of recovery from advanced tuberculosis to know that Sonny faced an uphill battle. She held her breath, looking from one face to another, then fixed her eyes on Finch. For God’s sake tell me what’s going on! What is happening to Max?’
Finch was quick to read her thoughts. ‘Mr Jantzen has made a very brave decision due to his deep love for Max. He invites you to visit the boy daily before he sails for Europe. This means you will spend time alone with the child, free to bathe and dress him, feed him and play games with him, in order to give Max time to feel comfortable with you.’ He deferred to Sonny, ‘At least that is my understanding, Sir.’
Sonny gave a nod of resignation. ‘I wish to make the transition as easy as possible. Following our departure you are free to take Max home to live with you so he can grow up in the care of his true mother. Finch is in the process of arranging the documents for what will be a legally binding private adoption if this is what you wish, Clytie.’
‘If I wish?’ Clytie’s voice broke and she covered her mouth with her hands, unable to speak the words that were trapped in her throat.
‘Fine, then it’s settled,’ Sonny said. ‘Now let’s bring the little ray of sunshine in to play with us,’ he said, as lightly as if he had not just relinquished the most precious person in his life.
Forced to accept her implied cue, Noni rose and left them without a word. She did not return. Moments later the nursemaid joined them, carrying Max. The child knew Finch and brandished a wooden toy horse at him in the manner of a trophy. At the sight of Clytie he gave a half smile and cocked his head on one side to study her – a new face.
Sonny gestured to the nursemaid. ‘Thank you, Gertie. You may leave us now. Miss Hart would like to hold Max.’
Darting a look at Clytie that suggested she was privy to the full story, Gertie placed the boy on her lap. When Max handed his toy horse to Clytie, she made noises of approval and accepted the ‘gift’ with the words, ‘Thank you, Max.’
Each time she returned it to him, Max instantly offered it back, in a give-and-take thank-you game. Then, in search of new entertainment, he tipped the straw boater from her head, delighted when her hair cascaded down around her shoulders.
The room seemed suddenly bathed in an almost painfully golden light. Clytie was aware that Finch was smiling at them, and that Sonny’s wistful, encouraging smile was for Max’s benefit.
When Alice served them afternoon tea, Sonny confided in mock confidence, ‘Max loves strawberries. I trust you have a strawberry patch at home?’
Nodding in answer, Clytie was determined not to alarm Max by letting him see her tears. She handed her straw boater as a prop for Max to hide his face and be ‘rediscovered’ behind it. It was then she caught sight of something that took her breath away. On the nape of Max’s neck was an odd tuft of hair – an instantly bitter-sweet reminder of the fleur-de-lys shape on baby Robert’s neck. At that moment, past and present forged together in a moment of painful yet joyous clarity.
‘I have only one request.’ Sonny cursed the coughing fit that took hold of him and in frustration gestured for Finch to take over.
‘Sonny asks if you would consider retaining the name Maximilian. He named the boy in memory of his German grandfather. It is a link Sonny would like to keep with the boy, if you are willing.’
‘I would be honoured, Sonny. Maximilian George Peter Jantzen has a fine ring to it.’
‘His given names will be sufficient. You may wish to alter his surname to Delaney at some stage in the future.’
Finch stiffened and hastened to explain to Sonny, ‘I have not mentioned to Clytie what occurred last week. That is your decision, Sir.’
Sonny’s nod of acceptance infuriated Clytie. It was clear that she was again being excluded by the men in the room. Sonny changed the subject abruptly.
‘May I trouble you, Finch, to take some photographs of Max that I may take to Switzerland with me?’
Finch rose to his feet. ‘I’d be delighted. I’ll begin at once.’
Clytie handed back the baby to sit on Sonny’s lap, while Finch posed and rearranged them to take advantage of the best light, as the baby’s mercurial changes of mood made the session
an object lesson in patience. Despite her frustration at having to relinquish Max, she was impressed by Finch’s skill and patience. Finally, when Max’s eyelids began to droop, Sonny’s gloved hand stroked the crown of his head then he rang the bell for Gertie to remove him.
‘My son’s sleepiness reminds me I must also take an afternoon nap – on Doc’s orders. No further work today, Finch. Please take the buggy to drive Clytie home.’
‘Thank you, no, I am in need of a walk,’ Clytie assured him.
‘As you wish, I’ll send the carriage to collect you tomorrow.’
They took their leave, aware that Sonny’s voice had assumed a distant quality, perhaps a camouflage for unseemly male emotion.
• • •
They were barely out of sight of Jantzen House when Clytie stopped short.
‘There are a dozen questions I wanted to ask but I didn’t want to antagonise Noni any more than necessary. Now you can answer them, Finch.’
‘I was afraid you’d say that,’ he said with a resigned sigh. ‘Can’t it wait until we get home?’
Clytie shook her fists at the sky. ‘Why on earth should I wait a moment longer? I deserve to know the truth. Two days ago I believed my baby was dead. I’ve just held him in my arms for the first time in a year – and you want me to wait until the kettle boils. You are inhuman, Finch! An unfeeling monster!’
‘All right, all right. I’ll answer them if I can – but it isn’t simple.’
He sat down on a boulder. Clytie stood over him.
‘Firstly, I can’t understand how Noni would give up the child so easily. Was she in league with Bracken’s decision to switch the babies? Or did she suspect the truth later? Is she the one who leaves anonymous flowers on Robert’s grave?’
‘Steady on. You have a right to know. But let’s tackle the questions one at a time. Noni was against the handover – she only gave in to Sonny’s pressure when he threatened divorce.’
‘Divorce? But he’s a true gentleman – he’d never shame her publicly like that!’
‘Nevertheless, he used divorce as a weapon if she fought to retain Max, your child. You’re right, Sonny would never expose his wife to public shame, but he implied to me that when he married Noni he had known the truth – about the child’s parentage.’
Golden Hope Page 49
