by Fiona Lowe
Harriet’s heart filled with gratitude. ‘Thank you.’
‘When I moved in with Mardi she gave me an allowance and immediately asked I pay some of it back for board and expenses. I was pretty shocked. The allowance you and Dad gave me had always been just for me. Mardi made me pay for my toiletries too. Mum, do you know how much you pay for your shampoo?’ Her critical tone was that of a recent budgeting convert.
Harriet had no clue. Her hairdresser just lumped the cost of her haircare products in with the price of her haircut, colour and eyebrow waxing. She justified the exorbitant total as another business expense because she had to look well presented for work.
Charlotte’s question, however, had been rhetorical and she kept talking. ‘I changed brands and saved seventeen dollars a bottle,’ she said triumphantly. ‘And Doug’s been helping me budget. He set me up with a program and I type in every cent I spend so I can see where the money’s going.’ A rueful expression crossed her face. ‘It’s very unforgiving. I couldn’t hide from the amount I was spending on my phone.’
Despite the delight she felt about Charlotte’s newfound appreciation for the value of a dollar, a familiar antipathy coiled inside her like a snake ready to strike. It happened whenever there was any mention of Doug. It had never bothered her before—truth be told, she’d embraced it—but today it was uninvited. She tried hard to fight it. ‘It sounds like he’s been very helpful.’
‘You sound just like Mardi when she’s frustrated with the horticultural society. You have to get to know Doug, Mum. He’s a really good guy and he makes Mardi happy. Gramps would have wanted her to be happy.’
Harriet made an utterly involuntarily and incomprehensible noise before taking a quick breath and recovering. Everything she’d learned yesterday was so fresh in her mind that the blood of it was still running. Right now wasn’t the time to tell Charlotte about her grandfather and his other life, but she would tell her. She’d do it this week. After all, didn’t everyone deserve to know they had a half-uncle younger than themselves?
She threw off the need to be sarcastic and told the truth. ‘You’re right. Your grandmother does deserve to be happy.’
‘I know Doug’s not anything like Gramps,’ Charlotte said earnestly, ‘but you need to stop comparing them. Give Doug a chance. You might just discover you like him.’
The idea was foreign to her but then again, so much of what she’d believed to be true about her family—past and immediate—was now equally foreign to her. The gap between what she’d believed about her father and the reality wounded her the most. ‘I promise I’ll stop comparing Doug with your grandfather.’
The heated determination in her voice made Charlotte start. ‘It’s okay, Mum. I believe you.’ She grinned. ‘And I’ll hold you to it when you lapse and give Doug a hard time.’
‘Along with Mardi and my sisters,’ Harriet said with a resigned laugh. She smoothed her skirt over her thighs, taking a moment to assemble her thoughts. ‘Darling, I can’t promise you that I’ll ever be an easy person. I can’t promise you that I won’t have strong opinions about your plans or that I’ll even approve of them, but I can promise you this. I won’t ever make you choose between your life plans and me again. I want to support you to achieve your goals.
‘It’s not going to be easy for me to change and it won’t happen overnight. After all, I’ve spent eighteen years telling you what to do. But I’m going to work hard at trying to listen to you and to hear you. And even harder than that, I’m working on hearing Mardi’s, Xara’s and Georgie’s opinions too. Please be patient with me while I learn how to be the mother of an adult daughter. I’m going to need your help.’
‘I’m going to need your help too.’
Fear churned through her but she had to say this now before Charlotte got any unrealistic expectations. ‘I’m sorry, Charlotte, but I can’t be the sort of grandmother who’s a full-time carer.’
Charlotte laughed. ‘Mum, you’ve got a career. You didn’t stay home full time with me and I wouldn’t expect you to do that for Teddy. Help comes in lots of different ways.’ She kissed the top of her son’s head. ‘I want to be the best mother to Teddy.’
Harriet thought about Edwina’s best and how up until yesterday she’d always thought it had fallen well short of the mark. Then she reflected on her own mothering failures—especially the last few months. Illness had caused her mother’s best to waver. Harriet had no such excuse. She’d placed all the wrong values ahead of Charlotte.
‘Every mother wants to be the best they can be but sometimes that best is hampered by the circumstances they find themselves in.’
Charlotte frowned and her shoulders stiffened. ‘Are you saying I can’t be the best because I’m a single mother?’
‘No,’ she said emphatically, scared their fragile reconciliation might shatter before it had barely started. ‘Not at all. What I’m trying to say is that I let my dreams for you get in the way of me doing my best for you. If it hadn’t been for Mardi, I would have gone to Sydney and let those ridiculous dreams of mine destroy our relationship.’
‘Mardi’s seriously wise,’ Charlotte said sincerely. ‘I mean, can you imagine how hard it must have been for her when they took Michelle away?’
Last night, Harriet had found herself thinking about a lot of things to do with her mother. ‘I don’t think we can ever truly understand what it’s been like for her to live with that level of pain.’
The baby whimpered and Charlotte immediately picked up the bunny rug–swaddled bundle. ‘I know you’re allergic to babies, Mum, but do you want to hold him for a minute. Just to say hello?’
Harriet vacillated as a squad of butterflies fluttered in her stomach. It was ridiculous to be scared of a baby. ‘He hasn’t got any teeth—I guess he can’t bite,’ she joked, sounding far more certain than she felt.
As she accepted the baby from Charlotte, she surprised herself by automatically crooking her left arm to support his head. It seemed she hadn’t forgotten how to hold a newborn after all. He was tiny; the weight and length of the large salmon she’d bought last Christmas. He had a smattering of fine blond hair on his head and one of his tiny, dimpled hands had escaped from the bunny rug and was now pressed up against his cheek. He was innocent, new and unsullied by life. Lucky kid.
‘Harriet Jane Mannering Chirnwell, meet your grandson, Edwin Douglas Richard,’ Charlotte said proudly.
‘Edwin Douglas Richard?’ Harriet repeated slowly.
Charlotte snagged her bottom lip with her teeth. ‘I thought about James but … I’m still really confused about how I feel about Dad. And we all miss Gramps, especially you, so I thought it was a nice way to remember him.’
Yesterday, Harriet would have been foaming at the mouth that Doug’s name was part of Teddy’s let alone that it came before her father’s. Today, it seemed improbably appropriate. She wondered if Charlotte would change her mind about including Richard in the name when she learned the truth about her grandfather.
‘There’s no rush to decide. You’ve got sixty days before you have to register the birth.’
Teddy chose that moment to open his eyes. Like all newborn’s, his were a very dark blue. He gazed up at her, his little pixie face creased in a concentrated stare as if he was trying to remember where he’d seen her before.
‘He’s got your forehead and I’m assuming that’s his biological father’s nose?’
Charlotte laughed. ‘Don’t worry. He’ll grow into it. Hamish is very good looking.’
‘Have you told him about his son?’
‘Of course. I called him last night. He’s flying out to Bali in the morning for schoolies but he’s visiting as soon as he gets back.’
‘And his parents?’
Charlotte shrugged. ‘They’re still living in Qatar but they’ll be in Melbourne for Christmas and Lorne during January. They’ve invited me to their beach house and they’re following my Instagram account for photos.’
‘Should I meet
them?’
‘Maybe. I’d like you to meet Hamish.’
Harriet slid her finger across Teddy’s palm and it closed tightly around her finger. She knew it was purely a reflex action and that every baby did it, but it didn’t stop a rush of feeling pouring through her. ‘Hello, little one,’ she said softly. ‘I’m Harriet.’
He stayed staring at her for a little bit longer, as if absorbing a fascinating piece of news, and then he suddenly screwed up his face and sicked up colostrum. She laughed as she wiped away the mess. ‘You’re a cheeky one. You’re testing my patience already.’
He opened his mouth wide, his little pink tongue vibrating. A loud and ear-piercing cry filled the room. ‘And on that note …’ She quickly handed Teddy back to his mother but as she did so, she knew she’d already lost a tiny piece of her heart to him.
While the midwife helped Charlotte attach Teddy to her breast, Harriet decided she needed to find a name that he could call her. She shuddered at the thought of Nana, Gran and Grandma. Mardi was taken and Harriet was too much of a mouthful. Oma? Naini? MorMor? Bubbe? She fished out her phone and opened a browser. Googling ‘trendy names for grandmothers’, she clicked on a list, scanned it and laughed.
Charlotte glanced up from her hungry son who was busy slurping his way to fulfilment. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘I think I’ve found the perfect name for Teddy to call me.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Glamma.’
* * *
It was the eyes.
Edwina swallowed hard, emotion rushing her with the power of swirling floodwaters, threatening to knock her off her feet. As she glanced at her daughters, who all had very different personalities, she saw the obvious DNA they shared and the one thing they all had in common: blue eyes. Not baby blue or the intensive blue of the vast and endless country sky they’d been conceived under. No, it was an electric blue tempered with a distinctive black ring around the iris and a startling and unexpected touch of amber circling the pupil.
Her eyes.
Eyes that could sparkle so brightly that heads turned quickly in their direction as if drawn by an invisible force. Eyes that captured snapshots of places and people with the click and clarity of a camera shutter and then stored them as carefully as a museum curator. Eyes that had shed tears of sorrow and despair when those images bleached to an indistinct reddish-brown, turning the features of much-loved faces into blurred memories.
Edwina could feel the intensity of her daughters’ gaze on her now. A new sibling always brought a combination of joy and anxiety into a family and her daughters’ eyes conveyed all of that and more. Excitement thrummed through her and she automatically tightened her arm around the daughter who was gazing silently at her with bright and inquisitive eyes.
She cleared her throat, raised her head and said quietly, ‘Girls, I’d like you to meet your sister, Michelle. Michelle, I’d like you to meet Harriet, Xara and Georgie. Your sisters.’
‘Hello.’ Harriet stepped forward, offering Michelle a glass of champagne. ‘You have no idea what a relief it is to know I’m no longer the oldest.’
‘I’m not here to steal your role,’ Michelle said hurriedly. ‘In fact I—’
‘Oh, no,’ Harriet said with a smile. ‘You’re not stealing it. I’m giving it to you. I tumbled off my sanctimonious-big-sister perch recently and I really don’t want to climb back on. It turns out it’s a lot more fun being one of the middle daughters.’
Georgie laughed, tapping her glass against Michelle’s. ‘I agree. I was the youngest for years and even though I don’t get to boss our recently discovered little half-brother about very often, he officially bumped me out of youngest position. I’m forever grateful to him. Now I get to remind these two that I’m a grown up with opinions they need to listen to.’
‘I’ve always been the middle child,’ Xara said equably. ‘I certainly played up and had a lot more fun than Harry did. She’s currently making up for lost time. But it doesn’t seem fair to foist the responsibilities of the first born onto you unless you want a crack at it?’
Michelle glanced at them all, her expression part bewilderment, part anxiety and part delight. ‘I don’t have any experience with sisters. I’m only used to having brothers. I think they’re a lot less complicated. I used to bribe them with food.’
‘Oh, that works with sisters too,’ Harriet said with a grin. ‘Georgie has a penchant for Swiss chocolate and Xara will agree to almost anything for French champagne. It was always her kryptonite but sadly, I can no longer afford the real stuff so I’ve lost my power over her.’
Michelle laughed. ‘And what about you, Harriet?’
‘Harry has far too much self-discipline to be bribed with food or drink,’ Xara said. ‘But she can be tempted by a particular shade of lipstick and designer shoes.
‘That sounds a bit out of my league,’ Michelle said.
‘Sadly, it’s out of mine too, at the moment,’ Harriet said. ‘I’m surprised at how little I miss the shoes. I got a bigger kick out of buying Teddy a pair of crocheted booties from the good ladies of the hospital’s auxiliary than I did for my last pair of Christian Louboutins.’
‘Growing up, did you share your clothes and shoes?’ Michelle asked with an almost wistful look in her eyes.
Xara snorted. ‘Harry was a wardrobe hog. Her clothes barely left any room for mine but I wasn’t allowed to wear anything of hers.’
‘It didn’t stop you,’ Harriet said without rancour before turning to Michelle. ‘And I bet your brothers didn’t nick your lipstick, unless of course your adopted family has as many secrets as ours.’
‘I’m not aware of any cross dressers,’ Edwina said thoughtfully, ‘although who really knows? Probably their valets knew and they either had enough loyalty or they got paid plenty to keep quiet. There are a few women in the family who never married. Some because of the lack of men after the wars but I’ve always wondered if the maiden aunts who lived for years with a close female friend were lesbians.’
Michelle sat down next to her. ‘I’ve been browsing that Mannering family history book you gave me and nothing like that’s mentioned. To be honest, it’s a bit dry.’
Harriet cut some brie and placed it on a cracker with some pear paste. ‘Grandpa had a selective memory when he wrote that book. Edwina and I are currently writing an up-to-date version that tells it like it was and how it is. We’re not hiding secrets any more.’
‘I’m adding to the mayhem by marrying your half-brother and my de facto stepbrother. If Edwina ever makes an honest man of Doug, we can drop the de facto,’ Georgie teased.
‘After years of living a life that was expected of me, I’m living the life I want,’ Edwina said, raising her glass to Georgie.
‘Michelle, we’re adding you to the family tree along with my father’s son Oscar and my grandson, Teddy,’ Harriet added. ‘And we’re searching the stations’ records to see if we can pinpoint other Mannering love children.’
‘That’s a much nicer term than illegitimate,’ Michelle said with feeling. ‘But how can you tell if a child was a love child?’
‘If they’re children of female employees and their education was paid for by the station,’ Xara explained, ‘that’s a fair indication. So are small bequeaths in wills. Before the First World War, station life was pretty isolated. The Mannerings tended to look after their staff especially if they got knocked up by one of their own. We could have unacknowledged cousins all over the place.’
‘Put it this way, I’m expecting a lot of new faces at the next Mannering extended family reunion,’ Harriet said with a laugh.
Doug came up behind Edwina and whispered, ‘How’s it going?’
Edwina smiled and stood, removing herself from the group. ‘So much better than if it had happened a few months ago. But it’s early moments and anything could happen. As far as I’m concerned, it’s enough that Michelle wants to spend some time with you and me. She doesn’t have to throw herself
into this huge extended family if she doesn’t want to. It’s a lot to ask.’
‘Part of me understands that,’ Doug said with a twinkle in his eyes. ‘But, Eddy, just once, wouldn’t it be great to have all our kids and their families together in the same space? Ben and Georgie’s wedding is the perfect event.’
‘Everyone includes Oscar,’ she reminded him. ‘Patrice is surprisingly keen for him to get to know his nieces and nephews.’
‘And great-nephew. As far as I’m concerned, the more the merrier.’
She gave an indulgent laugh. ‘Doug Pederson, you’re such a romantic. It could be a total disaster.’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve seen weddings melt down over lesser things than a few illegitimate kids. At least with our mob, everything’s out in the open. There are no more surprises.’
Our mob. ‘We can only hope there are no more surprises.’ She took his hand and they withdrew from the room, giving the sisters a chance to talk alone. Once in the kitchen she said, ‘I’ve been thinking.’
‘Should I be worried?’
‘Always,’ she teased. ‘But on a serious note, I’ve been thinking about Michelle. She’s discovered an entire set of relatives and ancestors she never knew she had. I’ve been able to give her a very detailed family history. She’s been polite about it, but she’s really not that interested. It doesn’t bother me. Heaven knows, I struggle with some of the things that have happened in the family. But what I have noticed is that she’s really interested in knowing more about your family.’
