Windflowers

by Tamara McKinley

  She hadn’t been at the homestead the day of the planned flight to Darwin, but had made her escape very early in the morning to accompany Joe and Charlie out to Six Mile Creek. Aurelia had told her later what had happened.

  *

  The sisters were squared up. Alicia’s blue eyes were furious, her expression grim. ‘Tell me where she is,’ she demanded.

  ‘I can’t do that,’ Aurelia said flatly. ‘Elspeth had no wish to go with you, and after what I’ve seen, I can’t blame her.’

  Alicia lit a cigarette and snapped the gold lighter. ‘Elspeth’s my daughter, and if I want to take her to England you can’t stop me.’

  ‘I can,’ retorted Aurelia. ‘I phoned my solicitor the night we had this same argument and Jack’s bringing the papers with him. The courts have given me full custodial rights to Elspeth until she’s twenty one.’

  Alicia paled beneath the powder, making her lipstick garish, the rouge an angry streak against the icy cheek. ‘You did what?’ she breathed. Then she shook her head. ‘You’re bluffing. The courts take months to decide anything.’

  ‘Not when a child is at risk,’ said Aurelia firmly. ‘Elspeth’s an Australian. The courts have no wish to see her forced to go to England with a mother who has already abandoned her once. Your history of divorce and erratic behaviour has only enforced their opinion that you aren’t a fit mother.’ Aurelia sighed. ‘I see their point, Alicia, and if you’d stop to think you’d realise I’m right.’

  ‘Never.’ Alicia smoked her cigarette with fierce intensity.

  ‘Be honest for once. You don’t really want Elspeth. You just like the idea of being the glamorous mother of a tragic waif.’

  ‘That remark’s unfair. I demand you take it back.’

  Aurelia carried on as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘Ellie’s not a puppet you can dress in frills and lace who’ll let you pull the strings. She won’t allow you to ignore or side-line her when you’ve run out of patience. She’s too strong a character, and there have been too many years of growing up without you for you to influence her now.’

  ‘I think I know my own daughter,’ began Alicia.

  ‘No you don’t,’ her sister fired back. ‘You’ll find she’ll be an encumbrance – a nuisance during school holidays when you’d rather be socialising. You’re not offering her a proper home where she can blossom and become the woman she was meant to be, but life in a dreary boarding school with holidays spent in the company of elderly grandparents.’

  Alicia turned to face her, the glimmer of understanding softening her expression.

  Aurelia pressed her point. ‘Do you remember how much we hated boarding school? How do you think Elspeth will fare in such an alien world? She’s Australian, with an Australian pride that will make her stand out far more than her accent. She’ll have no connections, no friends, no-one to turn to when home-sickness becomes overwhelming. She’s used to freedom, to a life on the move – putting her in that place will kill her spirit.’

  ‘It might make a lady of her,’ retorted Alicia.

  ‘It might,’ Aurelia conceded. ‘But she’d be happier finding her way here where she belongs.’ She waved a hand to encompass the land that stretched beyond the eye in every direction. ‘She’s a part of all this, Alicia – the long trek from Sydney has merely endorsed that – made the tie to the land stronger than perhaps even she suspects.’

  ‘But she needs me,’ insisted Alicia as she stubbed out the half smoked cigarette.

  Aurelia shook her head, sorry for this spoiled, selfish woman who would never see beyond her own needs. ‘You’ve been away too long, Alicia,’ she said softly. ‘She’s grown up without you.’ She put her sturdy arm around the slender shoulders and felt her tremble. Alicia did care what happened to Elspeth, she realised. Yet she wasn’t able to sacrifice her way of life for her. ‘Before you go I’d like you to grant Elspeth one thing,’ she said with a gentleness that belied her steely determination.

  ‘What’s that?’ The face was still pale beneath the make-up, the smile tremulous.

  ‘The freedom to choose. It’s a rare gift, Alicia. And only you can give it to her.’

  The eyes were bright between the false eyelashes, the scarlet lip caught between pearly teeth as Alicia fought to maintain control. She turned away, her fists bunched on the verandah railings as she watched the small aircraft land on the dirt runway.

  Aurelia felt the familiar warmth run through her as Jack Withers loped from the plane and across the yard. He was a good looking man she noted not for the first time. Not classically handsome, in fact some might even have said he was ugly with those irregular features. Yet there was a vitality in that lean frame and intelligent face. Something dangerously attractive in the humorous eyes and sensuous mouth. And as she watched his approach his gaze held her, the glint of laughter drawing them further into conspiracy.

  She pulled her thoughts together and took the papers he’d brought. There could never be anything between them and she had no intentions of adding to the gossip that flowed unceasingly over the two-way radio. At fifty she was far too old and set in her ways to have her head turned by a rogue with laughing eyes.

  Having swiftly read the papers, she handed them to her sister. Alicia scanned the closely typed print with myopic intensity – she was too vain to admit she needed glasses. ‘Do I have to sign anything?’ she asked with a distinct lack of her usual verve.

  Aurelia silently pointed to the appropriate place and Alicia signed it with a flourish. ‘There,’ she sighed as a single teardrop glistened on her lashes. ‘Elspeth’s in your hands now. Take care of her, and tell her I’ll always be thinking of her.’

  Aurelia nodded. It had been quite a performance. Judged so finely she wasn’t sure if it was play-acting or real. But to give her sister her due she genuinely seemed to believe she’d always think of her daughter. ‘She’s got a home here for as long as she wants it,’ she said through a constricted throat.

  She watched the propellers begin to turn and as the little plane trundled down the rough landing strip Aurelia knew that for Ellie’s sake it was right for Alicia to leave. Perhaps one day Alicia would realise what she’d lost.

  *

  Despite the flat tyre, Claire had made good time since leaving Sydney five days before. The van rattled and complained as it sped north and her thoughts drifted over the past five years and the man whom she’d thought she’d loved. He’d got what he wanted, then he’d dumped her for someone else. In a way, she admitted, he’d done her a favour. For once dumped, Claire had focused more intensely on her work and the results were better than even she could have envisaged.

  She grinned as she thought of Aunt Aurelia’s gruff wisdom. ‘Men are all right in their place, dear,’ she’d said. ‘Just as long as you show them where that place is. You get one life – live it for yourself, not through a man.’ Aurelia was a woman with ideas way before her time, and although Claire didn’t know if she agreed wholeheartedly with her, she admired the old girl and wouldn’t have dreamed of arguing. Yet despite her yearning for equality and a career, Claire knew that deep down she wanted a husband and children one day, and a marriage as strong and loving as that of her parents.

  The dusty stretch of bitumen wound endlessly through the heart of outback Queensland, the view in the wing mirror the same as through the windscreen. Yellow grass rippled in the hot wind beneath an endless blue sky, slashes of dark red appeared at the roadside where the earth met the tarmac and lone trees stood sentinal on deserted plains. The heat shimmered on the horizon and wedged tailed eagles hovered on the thermals above giant termite mounds and clumps of silver spinnifex. Compared to the Blue Mountains it was stark and arid – yet Claire had to admit it had its own majesty, its own timeless beauty.

  Claire’s thoughts turned to her mother. She’d heard the story many times, but it was only now as she was driving effortlessly along the same road that she realised the full extent of her mother’s brave achievement. She tried to imagine how it must h
ave felt to be a child, alone and afraid – with her father’s isolated grave far behind her and endless miles still to travel. She could almost see her now in the heat haze. A little girl in oversized dungarees that drooped to the toes of her boots, the battered bush hat low over her ragged hair as she squinted into the sun and wondered if she would ever reach her destination.

  Claire lit a cigarette and leaned an elbow out of the window as the radio blasted out the Beach Boys between the static. Not much chance of surf out here she thought wryly. Even the wind was hot, the sun scorching her skin, the sweat making her shirt stick to the leather seat. She finally pulled over to the side of the road. It was time to have a drink and stretch her legs.

  With the engine off, the silence closed in. The sibilant chatter of a myriad number of insects enhanced that silence and, as Claire stepped from the van she felt the full force of the outback’s grandeur. There were no houses, no barns, not even a fence post or telegraph pole to be seen. The sound of her sandals on the grit seemed loud, the ticking of the cooling engine almost like a clock on countdown.

  Claire shivered despite the furnace blast of the breeze. In a few hours time she would see the first of Warratah’s ninety-five thousand acres. In less than a day she would begin the quest for truth – and in a sudden flash of insight she realised that quest could ultimately destroy everything she had ever known.

  *

  Aurelia adjusted her monocle and with a snort of impatience tried to stir life into the old range. The damn thing was playing up again and the kitchen was chilled. That was the problem with old age, she thought crossly as she threw the poker into a corner and snatched up a disreputable old jacket. Cold and damp got into eighty-year-old bones more easily and things like recalcitrant ranges were just another reminder of the passing years and her rapid progress into decrepitude.

  With a jaundiced eye she glared around the kitchen. Like Ellie’s newer homestead it ran along the back of the house, facing north so it remained cool in the summer. Nothing much had been done in here for years, and the shelving sagged beneath the weight of numerous tins and jars. Pots and pans hung from hooks on the blackened beam over the range, fly papers dangled darkly from the ceiling and the chairs and table were littered with old newspapers, farming catalogues and the leftovers from her last meal.

  She removed a boot from a chair and sat down. To anyone else it might have looked a mess, but she knew where everything was and always refused to allow the house lubra to tidy up. It was the one room in the house that felt better when it was cluttered, for it somehow muted the voices of the past and left a veneer of life as it had once been. ‘Jessie,’ she shouted. ‘Where are you?’

  The soft rasp of bare feet crossing the hall was followed by a dark face peering around the kitchen door. ‘You alonga me, missus?’

  Aurelia eyed Jacky Jack’s granddaughter and smiled. The girl was about sixteen and hadn’t yet turned to fat like her mother. There was an elegance about the way she moved silently around the house, a pride in the tilt of her chin, yet when it came to work, Jessie was like the rest of her tribe. ‘I thought I asked you to stoke the range this morning?’

  ‘Me alonga feed chooks, missus. Do later,’ she mumbled.

  ‘You’ll do it now,’ she said firmly. ‘And when you’ve finished you can make a start on the washing.’ Aurelia noted the downcast eyes and the strands of straw that were caught in the tangle of ochre curls. Jessie had been messing about with that young jackaroo again – she knew the signs and just hoped she hadn’t got herself pregnant. There were too many kids in the aboriginal humpies as it was – some of them questionably light skinned despite her rule against fraternising with the drovers and stockmen. But men would be men and some girls would always be willing.

  She watched Jessie grapple with the range then left her to it and wandered into the hall. It was long and narrow, cutting through the centre of the house from the kitchen to the front door and verandah. Two doors on the right led to bedrooms and the one on the left to a sitting room that ran from the front to the back of the house. The homestead was smaller than Ellie’s for as there had been no children until she’d come along.

  Aurelia walked into the sitting room. It was a good room – always welcoming with the sun’s glare diffused by the foliage of the pepper trees outside the windows, and the warmth of antique silver glinting against the richly burnished dark oak furniture. There were valuable oil paintings on the wooden walls, exquisite figurines displayed in a Victorian cabinet and crystal vases and decanters glittering rainbows across the white painted ceiling. On the solid beam above the red brick fireplace there was an antique ormolu clock which solemnly ticked away the time in the embrace of two rather smug cherubs, and amongst the clutter of bills, postcards and letters was a brace of gold candlesticks that held the remains of ancient candles which had gathered dust and cobwebs.

  She clucked with impatience and dusted them with her handkerchief. As much as she loved this glorious country, the Australians were the most infuriating people she’d ever dealt with. Their over-familiarity and lackadaisical manner was enough to try the patience of a saint – and although she willingly acknowledged sainthood wasn’t her forte, she did wish the Australians would pull themselves together. A dose of boarding school and English winters in a draughty manor house would have knocked them into shape – just as it had for her.

  Aurelia shook out her handkerchief and stuffed it in her pocket as she eyed the snapshot of Claire. Never one to shirk a responsibility, she wondered if perhaps she’d been mistaken in forcing the girl to come home. Yet there were things that needed sorting out before it was too late, and someone had to make the first move. Not that there was much anyone could do about any of it, she thought as she sank into a chair and reached for her pipe. The seeds of the coming disaster had been sown many years before and it was the next generation that had to reap that particularly bitter harvest.

  Her pipe helped her put things into perspective and despite the doctor’s advice she’d refused to give it up. Packing it with her favourite brand of tobacco she took time to light it and savour the rich fragrance which even after all these years still reminded her of the Scottish Highlands and the grouse moors where her father had taken her and Alicia shooting as young girls. In her mind’s eye she could still see the verdant hills and soft heathers and the mellow stone walls of the crofters’ cottages.

  With the pipe smoke drifting to the ceiling, Aurelia leaned back and closed her eyes. It had come as a surprise to her when, years ago, she’d realised how much she loved it here – how much she would miss Warratah if it was ever taken from her. For there had been a time when she’d railed against the fate of being left widowed and childless to fight the elements and strange customs of a colonial outpost. Then Ellie had come along and she’d been given a second chance to re-affirm her commitment to Warratah – a commitment she’d never regretted – a commitment Ellie had taken on gladly.

  ‘You’ll set yourself alight one day,’ came the voice from the doorway.

  Aurelia’s eyes snapped open and she hastily brushed smouldering tobacco from her jacket lapel. ‘Ellie,’ she said. ‘I was just thinking about you.’

  They kissed and Ellie plumped down in the other chair. ‘Contemplating the insides of your eyelids, more like,’ she teased.

  Aurelia tapped the dottle into the fireplace and put the pipe in her jacket pocket. ‘I wasn’t asleep,’ she denied vigorously. ‘Just resting my eyes. I’ll get Jessie to make us a cuppa.’

  ‘You’ll be lucky,’ Ellie said with a laugh. ‘She’s over by the barn making eyes at that new boy you took on.’

  Aurelia grunted with disgust, hauled herself out of the chair and stood by the fireplace. There was no point in beating about the bush, she knew Ellie’s reason for coming. ‘I’m surprised you’ve left it so long. I expected you at least two days ago,’ she said baldly.

  ‘So you’ve had a letter too,’ murmured Ellie as she tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘What did i
t say?’

  Aurelia looked at the expressive brown eyes and the freckles that dusted Ellie’s snub nose. She’d grown into a becoming woman, but Aurelia was still reminded of the ragged urchin she had once been. It was there in the narrow chin and slender frame, and in the experience behind the eyes. Poor Ellie, she thought sadly. She’s been through so much – it wasn’t fair she should have to go through it all again. But she had to. They both had to if things were ever to be right in this family again. ‘She wants answers,’ she replied finally.

  Ellie’s eyes were dark with pain. ‘I should have told the truth from the beginning,’ she murmured. ‘But I thought I was doing the right thing by remaining silent and never dreamed it would turn out like this.’

  ‘Truth has a nasty habit of forcing its way to the surface,’ said Aurelia gruffly. ‘Claire’s an intelligent girl. She was bound to question things sooner or later.’

  ‘So will Leanne once she realises why Claire’s come home,’ sighed Ellie.

  Aurelia watched as Ellie pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. The younger woman’s hands shook as she made several attempts to light one, and when she’d drawn the smoke deep into her lungs she got out of her chair and began to pace.

  ‘Perhaps you should have a word with Leanne?’ muttered Aurelia. ‘I must be frank with you dear, I never liked the idea of all this secrecy, and with Christmas coming up…’ She tailed off. Ellie didn’t need reminding of what would happen then.

  ‘I was trying to protect both my girls,’ she replied as she stood with her back to Aurelia and stared out of the window. ‘But all I’ve done is make things worse,’ she added as she folded her arms around her waist and burst into tears.

  Aurelia put her arm around her. She couldn’t begin to understand the pain Ellie must be going through and there was nothing she could do but offer comfort. For Claire’s imminent return had already opened a Pandora’s box of memories – memories that had lain dormant for years – powerful memories that could tear this family apart.