She helped Alexander finish a crossword puzzle, and it was after three o’clock by the time she decided to leave.
“You don’t have to scurry away.” He chuckled. “Iris is coming in with Bryce after he finishes work.”
“I didn’t mean to be so transparent.” She laughed.
“I’ll be going home tomorrow or the next day. Iris has arranged for us to spend a few weeks with friends at their Portsea beach house.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It overlooks the ocean. Clive has heart problems like me, so us old geezers will have a few quiet rounds of golf. The women will hit the chicken and champagne trail, and the charity tennis tournaments.”
She didn’t want to return to Bryce’s cold, sterile apartment. If she lived there for any length of time, she would have to brighten it up somehow. Passing a florist shop, she impulsively bought two large bunches of red and yellow roses.
She loved Bryce and would fight to win his love by following Kerry’s advice. She was a good cook, the sex between them had been hot, and she would turn his stark apartment into a warm, inviting home.
***
Over the next couple of weeks, Caroline put her plans into operation. After buying a couple of recipe books, she asked Bryce’s housekeeper to help her prepare some delicious meals. She got colorful cushions and scattered them over the couch and armchairs, bought pretty country-scene paintings for the walls, and put vases of fragrant flowers in the kitchen and lounge room.
It was no hardship decorating a place with plenty of money to spend. Not cash money, but Bryce had set up accounts for her at a couple of exclusive department stores.
When he arrived home each evening she welcomed him with a kiss, poured him out a cold beer and handed him the newspaper so he could read it before dinner.
In bed, she went to him eagerly, happily. The sex was steamy hot, mind-blowing. He was an excellent teacher, she an apt, ardent pupil. It only took a few days for it to dawn on her that he never made love to her. It was sex, pure and simple. She didn’t know how she could tell the difference, but she could. Not once, even at the height of his passion, did he ever say he loved her, because he didn’t.
One afternoon she received a frantic call from Kerry. “Calm down! I can’t understand what you’re saying.”
Kerry started crying and talking at the same time. “Trevor, the police.”
“What!”
“The federal police arrested Trevor.”
“Why?”
“He refused to go to the army. I told you he’s a conscientious objector. He escaped, but I need two thousand dollars to get him out of Australia. I don’t know anyone with that kind of money except you.”
“I haven’t got much money.”
“Harrington has. It would be chicken feed for him. Borrow some. I’ll pay it back, I swear.”
“Bryce wouldn’t give me that much money.”
“Oh, God,” Kerry wailed. “Ten years in a military prison if he’s caught. You said Harrington lets you buy whatever you like.”
“He doesn’t give me money. He just set up accounts at a couple of stores.”
“Trevor’s parents haven’t got any spare cash, and my parents won’t help. Dad would hand him over to the authorities. You’re my last hope,” she finished off on a sob.
“Maybe I could buy something worth two thousand dollars and return it the next day for a refund. Where are you now?”
“At our apartment in Prahran. The lease doesn’t expire until the end of the month. Trevor’s in hiding. There are a dozen draft dodgers sheltering in a couple of safe houses, but the federal police are closing in. I think they’ve been watching this place, so meet me tomorrow at Smokey Jack’s with the money, okay? Thanks, I’ll never forget this.”
She didn’t want to get involved in this kind of thing, but Kerry was her best friend. Two thousand dollars was a veritable fortune, she thought frantically. What could she buy that would cost two thousand dollars? A diamond ring or a bracelet? She could say they didn’t fit after she got them home, and ask for a refund. Would they give her cash? More probably they’d just reinstate it on the account.
There must be a better way. She didn’t have a criminal mind and wasn’t particularly brave, but she had to come up with something. Ten years in prison to a young man like Trevor might as well be life.
If she bought jewelry she could hock it at a pawnbroker. It was the only idea she could come up with.
She paced the floor. Bryce was her husband, and she had proved herself a good wife. Surely it wouldn’t be unreasonable to ask him for money to buy maternity clothes and baby goods. He might fall for that.
Sheer will-power and the desperate desire to help Kerry wasn’t enough to allow her to prepare the filet mignon and scalloped potatoes she had planned to have for dinner. Her head ached, her stomach started churning, and she desperately wanted to cry.
She lay down on the couch. A few minutes rest might help her think of a better plan.
When Caroline woke up, she was shocked. “Five o’clock?” she shrieked, leaping off the couch. She could turn some leftover veal casserole into a curry. On a bed of rice it would look okay. Tinned fruit and ice cream for dessert? A pitiful menu, to be honest, but she had neither the time nor the energy to do anything else.
Bryce arrived home, hot and bothered and in a foul mood.
“Did you have a bad day?”
His quick, disinterested kiss skimmed across her mouth and landed on her cheek.
“An absolute shocker.” He struggled to loosen his tie and collar and she did it for him. “What have you been doing with yourself? You look terrible.”
“I’ve been feeling a bit nauseous and I’ve got a head…”
“See a doctor if you’re not well. I’m going to take a shower. I’ve got to go to Canberra tonight.”
“What!”
“The big army contract we tendered for, well, there have been problems with it. If I don’t front up to some special tendering board tomorrow and talk things through, we’re out of the race.” He stalked off.
She heated up some frozen bread rolls and put them in a basket, then surveyed the table to make sure it was set up nicely. When she heard Bryce moving around the bedroom, she spooned the rice into a pretty bowl and lifted the casserole out of the oven.
“What’s that I smell?” he said, striding into the kitchen.
“Curry.”
“Curry! I hate curry.” He peered into the casserole dish. “I’m not eating curried leftovers.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“Your job is to provide me with decent meals.”
“Job! I’m not on your payroll. I’m your wife.”
“You cost more than my employees,” he shot back.
“And you don’t think you’re getting value for money?”
He picked up a roll, grimaced with distaste and dropped it back into the basket.
“You inconsiderate pig,” she screeched. She sounded like a fishwife but couldn’t help it.
The breath hissed from between his teeth.
“I’ve done everything to try and please you, and you’re never satisfied.”
“Don’t nag me. I’m not in the mood for it. I’ve had a hell of a day.”
“And I haven’t? I’ve been nauseous. I’ve got a headache and the zip on my favorite jeans won’t do up anymore.”
“Buy some new ones.”
Inadvertently he gave her the opening she needed. She took several deep breaths to control her temper. “Could I have two thousand dollars?”
“What!”
“I need maternity clothes and things for the baby.”
“Use the accounts I’ve opened up for you.”
“But, but, I want to go to different shops.”
“I’ll sort something out when I get back. I’m sorry about before.” He rummaged his fingers through his hair. “I really do hate curry. I’ll grab something to eat at the airport.” He went over to
the phone and called a cab.
She went up to him and put her arms around his neck. “How long will you be away?”
“Two days, three maybe. I’m not sure.”
“It’s too long to be on your own.”
“You don’t trust me. Think I can’t survive without sex?” Angry color suffused his cheeks. “I haven’t been on starvation rations lately.”
The thought that he might turn to another woman almost killed her. “No, I give it to you every night.” Why did he continually feel the need to ride roughshod over her feelings?
He grabbed his overnight bag and stalked out of the room, and she could almost believe he was upset because she didn’t trust him. She dashed to the door to call him back. Too late. He was gone.
Feeling about a hundred years old, Caroline cleaned away the uneaten meal. She ran herself a nice warm bath and soaked in it for half an hour before sadly trudging off to bed.
Next morning she was up early. She couldn’t let an argument with Bryce prevent her from helping Kerry and Trevor. After tidying up the apartment she caught the elevator downstairs. In pale pink-and-white-checked slacks and a simple white button-down-the-front blouse she wouldn’t stand out in a crowd.
She bought a solitaire diamond ring and matching eternity ring at one store, a chunky gold bracelet and a diamond brooch at another, knowing full well the pawnbroker would drive a hard bargain. She pawned the rings first. “They’re worth much more than this. Look, I’ve got the receipt.”
“Listen, lady, it’s only worth eight hundred bucks to me. Take it or leave it.” She took it. She didn’t have the luxury of telling this predatory shark how despicable he was, playing on people’s desperation.
At the second pawnbrokers she didn’t fare much better. “I’m sorry, things have been a bit rough lately,” the man almost apologized. “If you could wait a couple of weeks, I might be able to give you more.”
“I can’t wait. I need the money now.”
All up, she raised two thousand, three hundred dollars. She gripped her bag tightly. What if she got mugged?
When they met, Caroline couldn’t hide her shock. White-faced, eyes red-rimmed from crying, Kerry was more distraught than Caroline had ever seen her.
“Thank God, you came. Have you got the money?”
“Yes, two thousand, three hundred dollars.” She explained how she came by it.
“Daylight robbery. Money-hungry sharks.” Kerry displayed some of her old fire.
They ordered cappuccinos and a piece of carrot cake.
“You might as well take all the money. You might need it.”
“Thanks, but two thousand is enough. I’ll never forget what you’ve done for us,” Kerry said. “Never.”
“It’s the least I can do for a friend.”
“Don’t look now, but isn’t that guy over there, the one in the navy shorts, staring at us?”
“I don’t know.” Caroline glanced around, as if casually observing a passerby.
“I think I’ve been followed.” Kerry burst out laughing, as if she didn’t have a trouble in the world.
Caroline forced a smile and tossed her head, pretending to ogle a young man sitting at a nearby table. Her mouth dried up. Butterflies twirled around in her stomach. She clenched her hands under the table so no one would see them shaking.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” Kerry gave a hunted look around. “We’d better separate. You take the money to Trevor.”
“What!”
“Pretend to give me some money. Make sure he sees. He’ll follow me, and you’ll go to Trev. I’ll tell you where he’s hiding.”
“My God! What are you getting me into?”
“Ten years rotting in some military prison because he’s standing up for his beliefs.”
“I know, I know. Bryce would kill me if he ever found out. Andy, too.”
“Yeah, Harrington would, but not Andy. He’s fighting for what he believes in, like Trevor is. They’re just on opposite sides.”
Caroline found an empty envelope in her bag and made a big display of handing it over to Kerry.
“I’ll dash off like I’m in a hurry and catch a train to Ringwood or somewhere to lead him away,” Kerry said. “You dawdle around, window shop for a while then catch the bus to the address in Carlton.”
“All right. Good luck.”
“Yeah, thanks. If you see Trevor, tell him I’ll catch up with him tonight.” Kerry scuttled off.
Caroline got up from her chair slowly. She wasn’t very good at this cloak-and-dagger stuff. She wandered around the shops for a time, bought an ice cream and forced herself to eat it as she walked along. Finally, she deemed it safe to catch a bus to the address in Carlton.
It turned out to be a rundown double-storied place in a line of terraces. Shaking with nerves, she knocked on the door and waited. A bearded young man, wearing a gray caftan, warily opened it.
“Is Trevor Higginbotham here?”
“Who wants to know?”
“I’m Caroline Harrington, a friend of Kerry and Trevor.”
“Trevor,” he yelled down the passageway. “You know Caroline.”
The young man opened the door fully and Caroline scuttled in. Make love not war. No conscripts for Vietnam. The walls were plastered with anti-war posters and peace signs.
Trevor, looking pale and drawn, gave her a hug.
“Where’s Kerry?”
“She thought someone followed her, so she caught a train to Ringwood. Said she’ll catch up with you tonight. I’ve got the money.”
“Thanks. We’ll pay you back one day, I swear.”
“It’s all right. Here’s the money. Best of luck.”
“Thanks. How’s Andy?”
“All right. He’s in Vietnam, I think, but I haven’t heard from him.”
“Kerry told me he’d gone.”
Caroline could hear other male voices but didn’t see anyone.
“Would you like a coffee?” Trevor asked.
“No, thanks, I’d better go. I’m no good at this cloak-and-dagger stuff.”
“It’s terrible. We’re supposed to live in a democracy,” he went on bitterly. “I’m not a coward. I would fight if someone attacked Australia, but this war is morally wrong. It’s purely political.” His mouth twisted. “I’m a fugitive in my own country, now.”
“Don’t get bitter. What are you going to do?”
“We’ve linked up with other anti-war groups. We’re going to get out of Australia and lie low in a sympathetic country. Some American draft dodgers are crossing the border into Canada, but it’s too far for us. I didn’t want to involve Kerry in this, but you know what she’s like. I love her, but I can’t go against my conscience.”
“I know, and a team of wild horses wouldn’t hold Kerry back once she makes up her mind. I’d better go. Good luck.”
“Thanks. When we get settled somewhere, we’ll write. It might have to be a bit cryptic, though.”
“Mention my dog Sebastian.” She gave a nervous laugh. “Then I’ll know it’s from you.”
Caroline caught the tram home, and by the time she let herself into the apartment she felt exhausted. You’re not cut out for all this clandestine stuff, my girl. Why wasn’t she going into screaming hysterics?
She couldn’t be bothered cooking anything much for tea, so she heated up some of the curried veal and ate that.
Would Bryce ring up to make sure she was all right, after the harsh words they’d exchanged? Not likely. What made him tick? Was he a chip off the old block? Alexander Harrington appeared to be a nice old man, but she recalled hearing office gossip about him having a ten year affair with some woman in the accounts department. Could infidelity be in the Harrington genes? Iris might have been prepared to share her husband, but it had turned her into a bitter woman.
I won’t make the same mistake.
Chapter Eighteen
Caroline awoke the next morning, revived after a
good night’s sleep. Her good deed must have tired her out. She wasn’t sorry about helping Kerry and Trevor. That’s what friends were for.
She showered and dressed, then cooked herself some poached eggs for breakfast.
The door buzzer interrupted her solitude. For some reason she glanced at her watch. Nine o’clock.
“I’m coming.” She swung the door open. “Good…” The greeting died on her lips.
An army officer and a soldier stood there, somber-faced.
“Andy,” she screamed. A black veil came down over her eyes. Her legs buckled and the officer sprang forward and caught her before she hit the ground.
“Your brother’s all right.” He helped her into the lounge room.
“He isn’t dead? Hasn’t been killed?”
“No, no. He’s wounded, but it’s not life-threatening. I’m Lieutenant Curtis.”
“Sergeant James.”
“Oh, God, I thought…”
“Where’s your husband, Mrs. Harrington?”
“In Canberra.”
“Make her a cup of tea, Sergeant, unless you want something stronger, um, Caroline?”
“No, tea will do. What’s wrong with Andy?” She couldn’t stop shaking. Her teeth chattered and she felt icy cold. He wasn’t dead. Thank God. He wasn’t dead.
“Your brother has sustained serious leg injuries.”
“How serious?”
“Bad enough to get him out of Vietnam.”
“He’s coming home?”
“Yes, he’s being evacuated to the Heidelberg Military Hospital. There’s a top orthopedic surgeon there.”
“He won’t lose his leg?” Visions of Andy hobbling around on an artificial limb brought tears to her eyes.
“I don’t think so,” the lieutenant said. “We haven’t got many details. He’ll be admitted to Heidelberg within the next couple of days.”
She trembled so much she could barely hold the mug when the sergeant gave it to her.
“Thanks. Have one yourself.”
“Is there someone who can stay with you?”
“No. My husband is in Canberra on business, some tender for the army. Ironic isn’t it?”
“Where’s he staying? We’ll ring him up for you.”
Make Love Not War Page 18
