The Heart of the Matter

by Lindsay Armstrong

  Clarissa stared at him.

  'Oh, no, you don't,' Rob said grimly then, and taking her by the arm, he propelled her into the bedroom towards the mirror. 'It's time you stopped slipping away, Clarry, and faced some facts. Look at yourself!'

  She did, properly, for the first time for ages, and turned away in despair. Then she put her hands on her stomach suddenly and frowned.

  'What is it?' he asked urgently.

  'I don't know,' she whispered, then felt it again, a small flutter. 'I think—I think it's moving.'

  'Are you sure it's only that?'

  'Yes. I... I've never really thought of it as a baby. Oh...' And suddenly the tears that had been held

  back for too long had started to flow.

  Rob watched her silently, and then took her hand. 'Promise me you won't do that again, Clarry.'

  'No. I mean, no, I won't do it again, but it doesn't change...’

  I know. But it's a start at least,' he said barely audibly.

  He was right for the most part.

  Clarissa started to take an interest in Mirrabilla again and the new manager, Cory Kessels, frequently came up to the homestead to discuss breeding stock and so on. She also started to take an interest in the running of the homestead, previously Mrs. Jacobs' domain, but that good lady had been so thrilled to see Clarissa coming back to life, she wouldn't have minded if she'd turned all her routines upside down or imported a robot.

  Mrs. Jacobs had also been an ally of Rob’s; despite having a pretty accurate idea of what had happened, and between them they had formed a watchful committee. 'A better day today, Mr. Randall,' Mrs. Jacobs would say, although she'd called him Rob for years. Or, 'A bit quiet today, Mr. Randall, but it is very hot...’

  Two weeks before the baby was due, Rob and Clarissa moved to Canberra, and two days after the baby was due Clarissa went into labor. She wasn't sure whether she was glad or scared to death, but for the last month she'd felt slow and heavy, so she allowed a feeling of relief to gain the upper hand.

  But as Rob was filling in forms at the hospital, a very efficient, starched-looking nurse beckoned her into the lift, and her heart started to beat heavily and she turned back and whispered in a frantic undertone,

  ‘Rob’

  He was at her side immediately and waved away the nurse's protest with a curt, 'Check with Dr. Forbes.'

  'I was only going to say you can be with Mrs. Randall as soon as we've

  'I'll wait outside the door until she's ready,' Rob said in a way which settled any further argument.

  Dr. Forbes was a large, friendly man, who, unbeknown to Clarissa, knew a great deal more about her than she had ever told him during the course of her pregnancy. Had she known, she might have understood the look that passed between Rob and the doctor when he arrived—one that suggested they knew each other rather well, which would also have surprised her.

  It was a long, arduous labor, but Rob stayed by her side. And sometimes it seemed to her as if she was in her very early teens or younger as she gripped his hand and heard him say, 'Clarry?'

  'Yes, Rob? How ... how am I doing?'

  'Just great. I'm really proud of you.'

  'Oh!' And she held his hand even tighter.

  Until finally it was over and he was wiping the sweat and tears off her face.

  is it ...?'

  ‘It’s a girl, Clarry. And you've been marvellous.'

  'Only because of you ... Is she all right?'

  'Perfect!' boomed Dr Forbes, and placed a tiny bundle in her arms.

  Clarissa looked and believed him, and mopped her tears herself.

  'What's this?' the doctor queried ruefully.

  'Sometimes, Clarry cries when she's very happy,' Rob explained in an odd voice, and Clarissa turned to him to see that he looked inexpressibly weary.

  She sniffed and smiled. 'I know what you're thinking of—Holly Kingston. But even she wasn't as beautiful.'

  Rob closed his eyes as if relieved of a great weight. 'What will you call her?'

  ‘I thought of Ian for a boy, but ... does Sophie Randall sound all right?'

  Three days later, however, Rob found Clarissa Randall weeping distractedly over Sophie Randall.

  'What's wrong?' he asked.

  'She ... she's gone to sleep again!'

  'Is that a disaster?' he asked warily.

  'Yes! I've been trying to feed her for the last half hour and all she's done is sleep. Even when she's awake sometimes she—well, she doesn't seem to like me.' She looked at him tragically. 'I don't think I'm going to be a good mother at all!'

  'Have you asked the Sister about it?'

  Clarissa moved and winced. Her breasts were full and hard. 'I don't like to make a fuss, they've got a real rush on, and anyway, I should be able to manage!'

  'Clarry,' he said in amused exasperation, but as the tears started to flow even more copiously, the amusement vanished and he said, 'Hang on, I'll be right back.'

  He returned with no less a personage than the Matron, which caused Clarissa to flush in embarrassment and horror. 'I didn't—you shouldn't have—I'll get it right. ..'

  'My dear Mrs. Randall, I'm only sorry that this has happened, but unfortunately as sometimes happens, we've had a mixture of late and early births that's thrown our calculations temporarily askew. Babies do that, you know. Now what's this I hear about Sophie not liking you?'

  'She doesn't—well, seem to suck very well. And she sleeps when she should be feeding and cries back in the nursery. I'm sure it's her!'

  'Ah!' Matron said serenely. 'One of those, is she? I'll let you into a little secret, Mrs. Randall—some babies just haven't read the rulebooks and four-hourly feeds mean nothing to them at all. So we'll put little Sophie on a demand system for the time being. As for the sucking—by the way, Mr. Randall,' she turned to Rob, 'you can leave your wife to me now, she'll be quite fine, I promise you! Unless you'd like to sit in on a discussion about the techniques of breast feeding?'

  'I think I might leave that up to you, Matron,' he said wryly.

  After he'd gone, Clarissa tried to apologize for being such a nuisance, but the Matron waved her words away and said, 'I only wish I had more time to spend with mothers, especially young mothers, my dear. Now the first thing I'm going to preach to you is relaxation

  Clarissa stayed in hospital for ten days, rather longer than normal, but Dr Forbes insisted on it and said he wished he could keep all his mums in for that long. In fact this was true, he did believe in a proper rest after a confinement, but it was more than that with Clarissa, although again she didn't know it.

  But in those ten days, after that rather disastrous start, she came to know her baby and was finally able to go home feeling calm and confident.

  Six weeks later, she said to Rob, 'I never thanked you for what you did for me when I was having Sophie.'

  'You don't have to,' he shrugged.

  'Yes. I don't think I would have got through it otherwise. Well, I suppose I would have, but it would have been much worse.'

  'Clarry...' Something in his voice alerted her. He's going to suggest we—live together properly again, she thought. Could I? How could I...?

  She jumped up, her mind flooded with images that made her heart pound and her mouth go dry. ‘No...' she whispered and started to shake.

  'Clarry!' He was beside her in one stride, holding her.

  'No, Rob, I ... I can't!'

  'All right, you don't have to ... Don't upset yourself.' And he held her gently until the shaking stopped.

  'But what will we do?' she asked finally, helplessly.

  'We don't have to do anything, Clarry. If you can be happy here with Sophie and the sheep, I'm sure that will be best for her.''

  'Yes ... yes. But what about you?'

  'She might like to have her father around too!'

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mrs. Randall?'

  Clarissa stirred and sat up sleepily. 'Oh, Mrs. Jacobs,' she yawned, 'what's the time?'

&
nbsp; 'Ten o'clock.'

  'What? Heavens above!' Clarissa exclaimed wryly.

  'Are you feeling all right, Mrs. Randall?' Mrs. Jacobs asked anxiously. Clarissa had begged her to keep calling her Clarissa as she always had, but Mrs. Jacobs had some very firmly rooted beliefs which included not using the familiarity of first names to employers however long you've known them. Which was a little odd, since she would have probably protected Clarissa's life at the expense of her own. But that was Mrs. Jacobs, a lady of monumental loyalty and discretion. 'AH that palava of the television show yesterday didn't upset you, did it?' she enquired.

  'No! Oh...' Clarissa blinked, recalling her disturbed night. 'Well, I did have some trouble getting to sleep. But then I must have passed out like a light, I guess.'

  'Mr. Randall said to leave you for a while. He had to go into Wollongong, but he'll be back tonight. Miss Patterson has gone back to Sydney. She said to thank you for your hospitality. Why don't you stay in bed if you're tired?'

  'Because I'm not tired any more and I'm not sick,' Clarissa said firmly. 'Where's Sophie?'

  'With Clover. I thought I'd check you out before I brought her in.'

  Clarissa regarded Mrs. Jacobs ruefully. 'Sometimes you treat me as if I'm no older than Sophie, Mrs. Jacobs.'

  'Well, I don't mean to, but...' Mrs. Jacobs sighed.

  'I know,' Clarissa said softly. 'There was a time when I... when it was probably appropriate. But it's not any more ...' She stopped rather abruptly, remembering the tears she'd shed last night, the state she'd been in. Oh well, she told herself, flinching inwardly though, I'll just have to guard against those kind of lapses, won't I? Anyway, I haven't had one for ages.

  After Mrs. Jacobs had left her—to get dressed in peace, she said—Clarissa showered and donned a pair of jeans, low-heeled boots and a primrose-yellow jumper. She sat down at her dressing table and rather absently began to brush her hair. She noted the faint shadows beneath her eyes "that hadn't been there yesterday, and wondered why it was that she felt quite calm this morning. Nothing had changed, nothing had gone away. She was still caught in a marriage that had turned into a nightmare...

  'No, not that,' she said to her reflection. 'A trap for the unwary?' She shrugged. 'Perhaps. And it seems I have no option but to stay in it for the time being.'

  Heavy footsteps sounded on the gravel outside her window, accompanied by Sophie's piping voice asking Clover why the birdies weren't singing.

  Clarissa could imagine Clover taking his time about replying as the footsteps receded. He was an elderly man who had been Robert T. Randall's chauffeur for years. Now, at Mirrabilla, he performed a mixture of light duties, driving, some gardening and, in winter, tending the fireplaces in the homestead. And every time Clarissa asked him anxiously whether he wasn't

  doing too much, he replied that he was only happy to have something to do instead of being pensioned out to pasture like an old horse. He was also very much taken with Sophie and always answered her frequent questions at length and in detail.

  Not that there was anybody at Mirrabilla who wasn't much taken with Sophie. As for Sophie herself, she loved Clover and Mrs. Jacobs, adored her mother, but had one very important mission in life—to accord her tall father utter devotion. And this was something she took very seriously, even to the length of being able to recognise the sound of his car, so that every time the navy-blue Jaguar swept up the drive, Sophie would be the first out to greet him, dropping whatever was to hand and running as fast as her little legs would carry her.

  In fact 'Daddy home' had become rather a catch-phrase in the household, used not only by Clarissa and Mrs. Jacobs but even the daily help, whenever Sophie flashed by.

  Clarissa put her brush down and got up to go over to the window where she watched Sophie and Clover disappear around the corner of the house, deep in discussion.

  And she thought, what do I mean about having to stay in this marriage for the time being? Will there ever be a time when I can take Sophie away from Rob? For that matter, I haven't even thought about it for ages, until last night. I've even been ... happy. Happy to live side-by-side with him in a passionless but caring relationship—I could never accuse him of not being that. So what happened last night?

  'Well, it did all come back,' she said aloud, and shivered suddenly. 'Perhaps because the night had grown cold ... Cold nights, lonely nights ... Was it

  that, more than talking about my mother and father? And Ian ... No, not that. I could never feel that again, I think...’

  But her gaze sharpened suddenly, and she realised that as she'd been talking to herself she'd been watching a figure stagger up the driveway—a figure growing more familiar with each painful step, a figure in a bright red suit but torn now and crumpled...

  Clarissa turned with a gasp and ran out of her bedroom.

  'Evonne!' she cried, coming out on the verandah. 'What's happened?'

  Evonne Patterson lifted a face that was unusually pale even for her and slumped down on to the bottom step. 'I ran into a kangaroo, believe it or not,' she said breathlessly. 'It came right through the windscreen... Then I hit a tree. I waited, thinking someone would come along, but no one did, so I thought I'd better walk back ...' She paused painfully, then lifted her skirt to show a nasty gash above one knee. 'I don't suppose I'd have bled to death, but all the same

  'Oh, you poor thing!' Clarissa breathed. 'Hang on, I'll get help

  'I'm sorry to be such a dreadful nuisance, 'Evonne said a little later when she was inside and being tended by Clarissa and Mrs. Jacobs. 'I mean, having to get a doctor out

  'He was holding a clinic in Holbrook anyway. And you're not being a nuisance!'

  'In broad daylight, though, of all things ... After spending the night here to avoid something like that!'

  'Shh, Miss Patterson!' Mrs. Jacobs admonished, 'don't fret about it.' She lifted her head. That could be Doctor now.'

  'Now you'll stay with us, of course,' said Clarissa

  after the doctor had stitched up Evonne's knee and pronounced her undamaged in any other way but had recommended that she take things quietly for the next few days.

  But...’

  'Is there anyone in Sydney we should get in touch with?'

  'No, but...’

  Then there's no one to take care of you, is there?' Clarissa said patiently.

  'No. But I feel this is an awful imposition, though, Mrs. Randall.' Evonne looked at her worriedly.

  'No, it's not! In fact right now Mrs. Jacobs and I will get you to bed, where you'll feel much more comfortable for the time being.'

  'But I haven't got enough clothes or...’

  'Oh, we'll find something. And Clover will organize something for your car. Now no more arguments, Miss Patterson!' Clarissa commanded with mock severity.

  'I ...' Evonne sighed, 'well, I do feel a bit groggy,' she confessed. Thank you very much, Mrs. Randall.'

  'I think I'd rather you called me Clarissa, Evonne.'

  'She was incredibly lucky,' Clarissa said to Rob that night over dinner. The car's in an awful mess. Clover arranged for it to be towed into Holbrook for repairs.'

  'How's she feeling now?'

  'She's sleeping. She's slept for most of the day.' Clarissa reached for the apple sauce to put on her roast pork. 'She's very good at her job, isn't she, Rob?'

  'Yes.'

  'I was surprised to hear she didn't want to get in touch with anyone in Sydney. I thought she'd have a boy-friend at least. She's very attractive.'

  They ate in silence for a while. The pork was delicious and the crackling crisped to perfection.

  Then Rob said, 'Perhaps she's decided to be only a career woman. I got the feeling you didn't really like her, Clarry.'

  Clarissa grimaced. 'It's not that, really. She makes me feel ... I don't know, bumbling, by comparison. How did you guess, anyway?'

  Rob looked up thoughtfully and twirled his crystal wine glass so that it sent out prisms of light across the polished surface of the table
. 'I guess I should know you as well as anyone. For example, you're very talkative tonight.'

  'Am I?' Clarissa looked fleetingly self-conscious.

  'Yes. Not that I mind. I take it you've got over last night?'

  '... Yes,' she said very quietly. 'Sorry about that."

  'It's not a question of being sorry.'

  Clarissa moved restlessly and sipped her wine. 'I don't want to talk about it,' she said finally.

  He shrugged, but those very blue eyes didn't leave her face.

  ‘I...' Clarissa cast around in her mind a little desperately for something to say, and came up with something surprising but true. 'I think being able to dictate to Evonne today—sort of evened up the balance. I mean it demonstrated that there are some things I'm good at. I also felt... needed. How awful!' she finished with a comically rueful look.

  He smiled slightly and remarked, 'Perhaps I ought to drive out and find a handy kangaroo to run into!'

  Clarissa caught her breath and looked at him uncertainly—and was surprised to find the palms of her hands sweating.

  'Don't worry, I'm not going to,' he said with a touch

  of irony. 'But there are lots of things you're good at and areas where you're needed, Clarry. I don't quite understand why you should ... be rather euphoric about this. Oh, I do understand about people who give one an inferiority complex. I've met them too ... But you seem more alive than that would warrant, tonight.'

  'I can't imagine you ever suffering from an inferiority complex,' she said a little drily, and then bit her lip, recalling her mother. Only I'm perfectly sure you got over that, Rob, she said to him mentally. She went on with an effort, 'And I'm only good at... well, sheep and horses.'

  'But you're very good at that, Clarry. Between you and Cory, Mirrabilla Stud is back where it once was again. You're also a good mother, despite your terrible doubts on that score once.' His lips twitched.

  'Then again there are some things I'm very bad at,' she said abruptly, and flushed immediately; she couldn't imagine what had prompted her to say that.

  He said, 'I can't think of one. Tell me about them?'