Harriet glanced across at Rosa and remembered their awful row. ‘I didn’t know any of this until the day you told us about Kane,’ she said bitterly. ‘It seems I was set up by my so-called friend, Rosa.’
Rosa leaped from her chair. ‘That’s not fair,’ she shouted. ‘I explained everything to you – you just wouldn’t listen to reason.’
‘Reason?’ Harriet whirled to face her. ‘You wouldn’t know the meaning of the bloody word.’
‘Fair go, Hat,’ growled Connor.
‘You stay out of this Connor Cleary,’ yelled Rosa. ‘It’s none of your flaming business.’
‘Too right,’ snapped Harriet. ‘This is between me and Rosa.’
‘Shut up,’ shouted Catriona above the noise. ‘Calm down, all of you.’ She watched as they glared at one another and sat down. ‘I think you’d better explain, Rosa. And I want the whole story, not just the bits you think will put you in a good light.’
Rosa glared at Harriet, looked to Connor for support and realised she wouldn’t get it. ‘I read the letter,’ she snapped. Catriona’s expression was stony and she hesitated before carrying on to tell her about her night forage into the trunk. ‘I wanted to do something special for you,’ she said softly. ‘You’ve been so good to me and Con, and I wanted to make you happy.’ She sniffed and lit a cigarette. ‘I didn’t know how or when, and it wasn’t until we went to high school that I saw my chance.’
‘She deliberately made friends with me as soon as she found out who I was,’ said Harriet bitterly. ‘She went out of her way to be nice and to trick me into thinking she really did like me.’
‘That’s not true,’ snapped Rosa. ‘I admit I sought you out in the beginning, and I’m sorry I was so devious. But we became real friends, much closer than I’d ever expected. And as time went on I realised I could never tell you what I’d done, because I knew you’d never forgive me.’
‘So why pick now?’ Harriet stood with her arms tightly folded around her waist.
‘It was a traumatic day,’ admitted Rosa. ‘The atmosphere was so charged I couldn’t keep my secret any longer.’
‘But can’t you see what damage you’ve done?’ persisted Harriet. ‘I’ve always trusted you, always told you my secrets. That trust is gone now. I doubt it will ever return.’
‘I think it’s time for all of us to calm down,’ said Catriona as she began to pour them some wine. She handed round the glasses. ‘Rosa, I know you meant well, but really, darling, I do wish you’d think before you go leaping into the dark.’ She smiled at her and touched her face before turning to Harriet. ‘If it wasn’t for Rosa you would never have known who I was,’ she said softly. ‘Is it such a bad thing to have me for a grandmother?’
‘No.’ Harriet moved to her and took her hand. ‘Of course not. It’s just the underhand way Rosa’s gone about things that has upset me.’
‘That is something you must both come to terms with, but I believe Rosa meant only the best of intentions, so try not to be too hard on her.’ Catriona smiled her encouragement as Harriet glanced across at Rosa.
‘I’m sorry,’ muttered Rosa.
‘So am I,’ said Harriet with a sigh.
Connor raised his eyes to the ceiling as the young women embraced and burst into tears. ‘Strewth, Ma. Now we’ve got the bloody waterworks. Talk about drama.’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to understand,’ Catriona said with a smile. ‘But just be thankful the storm is over and that I have a granddaughter.’ She poured another glass of wine and waited as the girls made their peace and dried their tears.
When they had settled once more, she turned to Harriet. ‘Did you never question your mother about her family?’
She nodded. ‘I began to ask when I was still a little girl,’ she replied. ‘Other kids had grandparents and aunts and uncles, and I wanted to know why I didn’t have any. Dad explained he’d lost both his parents in a car crash when he was nineteen. He’d been the only child, but he had photographs of his parents and their siblings, and lots of stories to tell about his own childhood. I never got to meet any of his family as they’d passed away long before he married Mum. He was quite a bit older than her, you see.’
Harriet bit her lip, and Catriona could hear by the tremor in her voice that she needed a moment to control her emotions.
‘Mum refused to talk about her childhood before ballet school. She had no photographs, no stories to tell, and every question I asked was met with a wall of silence. As I grew older, I realised she was an unhappy, bitter woman, driven with ambition for herself and in turn for me. It seemed as if she was determined to prove she was better than other people’s expectations of her, determined to erase her past and re-invent herself. I began to probe more deeply, but there were no photographs or diaries, no letters or mementos from those early years, nothing to point me in the right direction.’
‘And you, Rosa. How did you manage to find out so much from a single letter?’
‘I had a name and an address. I’d read the letter, so I knew that Jeanette Wilson was your daughter.’ She paused as she looked at Harriet and they exchanged a smile. ‘It blew me away when I realised we were in the same class at school.’ She took a drag of her cigarette. ‘The only trouble was, I had all this information and didn’t know what to do with it. You didn’t know I’d read the letter. Harriet didn’t know she was related to you, and her mother seemed determined to keep it that way.’ She lifted her shoulders. ‘I was stuck.’
Catriona laughed and patted her hand. ‘My goodness, Rosa, what a devious rascal you are,’ she said fondly.
‘Devious? Downright conniving, if you ask me,’ muttered Connor. ‘I can’t believe you kept all this to yourself, Rosa.’
‘Actually,’ admitted Rosa. ‘I feel utterly ashamed about the whole thing. It’s just that I was so desperate to do something special for Mum. I hadn’t really planned how I would go about it and although the contents of the trunk put some of the pieces of the jigsaw together, there was one vital element missing. And without confessing what I’d done, I could go no further.’
Catriona nodded. ‘And that missing link was Kane. He was the progenitor and founder of all the misery that has beset me and the following generations, and if Demetri’s body hadn’t been found you probably wouldn’t ever have known about him.’ She turned to Harriet. ‘It isn’t something to be proud of.’
Connor rose and poured them all another drink. ‘Welcome to the family,’ he said, raising his glass to Harriet.
Harriet sighed. ‘Mum warned me not to meddle when I asked about her family but I always had the feeling there was something missing, something I should know about.’ She grinned. ‘And now I have a ready-made family.’
Rosa raised her glass. ‘Here’s to Hat, sort of sister and best mate.’ She downed the drink in one and risked setting fire to herself by lighting another cigarette.
Catriona’s eyes were bright with tears. ‘I’m only sorry Jeanette couldn’t forgive me,’ she said. She turned to Harriet. ‘Did I hurt her so very much?’
Harriet stood and walked over to the window, her hands deep in her trouser pockets as she remembered the awful confrontation with her mother. Jeanette had been almost incandescent with rage, pacing the floor of the luxury apartment, her face taut and cold.
*
‘I told you not to have anything to do with that family,’ she snapped.
Harriet watched as Jeanette lit another cigarette and sucked in the smoke. ‘It was certainly one hell of a shock,’ she replied. ‘And you’ll be pleased to know Rosa and I have fallen out over this big time.’ She took a breath; she didn’t want a fight. ‘But I had a right to know who I was and where I’d come from. Surely you can understand that?’
Jeanette’s eyes blazed as she whirled to face her. ‘Rights,’ she spat. ‘And what about my rights, Harriet? Do my feelings count for nothing?’
‘Of course they do.’ Harriet reached out to her mother but her hand was ignored. ‘Please, Mum,’ sh
e tried again. ‘Give me a chance to explain why Grandma gave you up – then perhaps you’ll see she didn’t do it lightly, or willingly.’
Jeanette glared at her, the corners of her mouth turned down in a sneer. ‘I see she’s turned your head already,’ she hissed. ‘Grandma, indeed.’ She turned her back and stared out through the window over Circular Quay. Her shoulders were stiff, her stance defensive as she silently smoked her cigarette.
Harriet watched her for a moment, the barrier Jeanette had thrown up between them as efficient as the Great Wall of China, yet she knew it must be breached if their relationship was to survive. She began to talk, hesitantly at first, then more fluently as the story unfolded, aware of the pain this was probably causing her mother, but knowing the moment must not be lost.
Jeanette remained silent throughout, her arms wrapped tightly around her narrow waist. Harriet wondered at one point whether she was even listening, for there was no outward sign of any reaction, no lessening of the tension in her stance. With her back turned, Jeanette’s expression was lost to her and she could only imagine the thoughts that must be racing through her mind.
‘Catriona spent a life-time searching for you,’ she finished. ‘And when she found you, you rejected her without giving her a chance to explain. She wants to make peace with you before it’s too late, Mum. Can’t you find it in your heart to accept what happened and forgive her?’
Jeanette turned from the window, her face ashen, eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘It’s a bit late to play happy families,’ she snapped.
‘I’m not asking for instant cosiness between you, I wouldn’t expect it and I doubt Catriona would either. But a phone call or a letter would mean so much to her.’
The shadows played across Jeanette’s face as she eyed Harriet, her thoughts hidden behind a mask of indifference. ‘It’s very obvious where your affections lie,’ she said coldly. ‘But after this betrayal, what more should I expect?’
‘I’m not going to ignore Catriona because you’re unwilling to build bridges,’ retorted Harriet. ‘She’s my grandmother, and I’ve come to love and admire her.’ She tamped down on the rising impatience and grasped her mother’s unresponsive hands. ‘But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you, or think any less of you. You’re my mother, I’ll always love you.’
‘How can you, now you have your new family?’ Jeanette retorted. ‘You won’t want to have anything to do with me once that bitch has her hooks into you.’ Despite her cruel words, Jeanette’s reserve broke and she collapsed into the soft couch, her face buried in her hands as she sobbed. ‘I can’t forgive her,’ she said through the tears. ‘I just can’t. And now I’m going to lose you as well.’
Harriet sat next to her, the anguish in her heart almost unbearable as her mother sobbed on her shoulder. How could she make Jeanette see there was so much to rejoice in, and how easy it was to build those bridges she was so frightened to erect? All Harriet could do now was reassure, console and comfort the mother who had, before now, always been so strong and sure of herself.
Much later, when the emotions had waned and the tears had been dried, Jeanette fell into an exhausted sleep. Harriet gently kissed the tear-stained cheek and covered her in a light blanket before leaving the room. As she turned in the doorway and watched her sleeping mother she knew it was up to Jeanette now to make her reconciliation with her own mother.
*
Harriet returned to the present and realised Catriona and the others were waiting for a reply. ‘It was the most difficult thing I have ever experienced,’ she admitted softly. ‘Mum was almost incandescent with rage when I told her what Rosa had discovered. She could barely look me in the eye, could hardly speak. I’ve never seen her like that before, and it scared me.’
‘You told her everything?’ asked Catriona.
‘I skimmed over a lot of it. I didn’t see the point in telling her the whole gruesome story of Kane’s abuse, it served little purpose. I told her you’d been raped and forced to give her up for adoption. I also told her you’d been searching for her ever since.’ Harriet sighed. ‘In the end it didn’t make any difference to the way her mind was set against you. She’s too bitter to see reason, or look beyond her own pain.’
She looked across at the portrait of her great-grandmother. Velda smiled down at her, the violet eyes warm and encouraging in the flawless face, and Harriet recognised something of her own mother in her expression. ‘Mum is a strong, determined woman who has lived her life according to her own agenda. Which is why her reaction to all this frightened me.’
Harriet turned from the portraits. ‘She fell apart. Broke down completely and begged me not to leave her, not to stop loving her. I realised she was terrified of being left alone, of being unloved and condemned because she couldn’t accept her link to you. There were powerful emotions in that room and it took a great deal of time to reassure her that despite my affection for you and the joy in knowing who I really am, I would always love her no matter what happened.’
‘Poor Jeanette,’ said Catriona, the tears rolling unheeded down her cheek. ‘If only I’d been there to comfort and console her.’ She pulled out a handkerchief and mopped up the tears.
Harriet went to her and held her. ‘It will take her time to digest the things I told her,’ she murmured into her hair. ‘She’s been in denial her whole life, so it won’t be easy for her to adjust to the truth.’ Easing from the embrace, Harriet looked into Catriona’s eyes and felt the warm glow of a love far stronger than she’d ever felt before. ‘I believe she will come to realise how much you loved her, and what it cost you to be parted from her. It could take time, but we mustn’t give up hope.’
‘I’ve been hoping for years that she’ll forgive me,’ said Catriona. ‘I’m prepared to wait for as long as it takes.’
Harriet smiled. ‘We’ve all learned something from this, Grandma,’ she said with soft relish for the lovely word. ‘I’ve come to realise a mother’s love is the most powerful love in the world. Velda killed because of it, you lost your marriage and spent your life searching for your lost child because of it. My mother loves me, more than I realised, and one day, probably quite soon, she’ll want to know what it’s like to feel the warmth of her own mother’s love. For without experiencing this special gift we are never whole.’
Epilogue: A Year Later
Harriet swung the powerful car through the archway and noted that the long driveway up to the homestead had finally been metalled. The engine purred as the tyres hummed over the smooth surface and she began to relax. This was a home-coming, one she had made twice over the past few months, and as she drew the car to a halt on the crest of the hill she looked down at Belvedere and smiled.
The homestead had been given a fresh coat of paint for this very special occasion, and the roses were clambering in bright profusion up the verandah posts and over the roof where they mingled with the bougainvillea. The paddocks stretched away into the distance, a peaceful green backdrop after the rain which contrasted sharply with the bustle surrounding the homestead, and outbuildings.
Harriet sat in the car and looked down on the confusion of cars and utilities which had been parked off to one side of the great barn. The sun glinted on chrome and glass and danced over the bright colours of the women’s dresses and hats, and even from this distance, the sounds of laughter and music were carried up to the hill.
Having taken her fill of the view, Harriet slowly drove down the hill, the sense of excitement growing as she approached the homestead. Belvedere never failed to enchant her, but today it was as if a touch of fairy dust had been added and she could hardly wait to be a part of it all. She followed the worn track to the far paddock and parked in the makeshift car park. It was mid-winter, but the heat was still intense, and as she gathered up her hat and bag and stepped out of the air-conditioned car, it struck like a hammer blow. She was reaching into the boot of her car for her case when she was startled by a familiar voice at her side.
‘Looks like y
ou might need some help with that. Trust a woman to bring everything but the kitchen sink.’
She whirled round, the smile of pleasure already on her face. ‘Tom,’ she breathed. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I was invited,’ he drawled, his eyes warm with affection. ‘And I couldn’t give up the chance of seeing you again.’ He smiled his slow smile and took her hand. ‘Telephone calls are no comparison for the real thing,’ he said softly. ‘You sure are a sight for sore old eyes.’
He didn’t look so bad himself, Harriet thought as she took in the smart suit, crisp shirt and silk tie. She felt the blush spread from her neck to her face. The warmth was echoed in his touch and the electricity of the moment. ‘I agree about the phone calls,’ she replied, her voice muted by the sudden onslaught of shyness that was so unfamiliar she didn’t know how to deal with it. ‘It’s probably cheaper too, if my phone bill is anything to go by.’
‘That’s the penalty we must pay for living so far apart,’ he said, his gaze travelling slowly over her face as if he was trying to imprint each one of her features in his mind.
They stood and gazed at one another and Harriet realised she’d forgotten the bustle and the noise and the milling crowds. It was as if they were alone, and needed only one another. ‘I’m so glad you came,’ she murmured.
‘So am I,’ he replied. ‘Because now I know I’ve made the right decision.’
She cocked her head to one side and laughed up at him. ‘What decision?’
‘I’ve jacked in the force,’ he said as he lifted out the case and slammed the lid on the boot. ‘There’s a job waiting for me with a security firm in Sydney. I’ve got a few weeks to sell up in Brisbane and find a new place, but I should be down your way in about a month.’
Harriet could feel the quickening of her pulse as she realised what this meant. The telephone calls over the past months had changed in tone and Harriet had wondered if it was her imagination that they had become warmer and more intimate, or whether it was purely wishful thinking. Now it seemed the feelings were reciprocated and she couldn’t find the words to express her delight.
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