A Distant Journey

by Di Morrissey

  ‘They’re stockhorses, Spencer. No gallopers here. My grandfather had racehorses years back, but Dad and I aren’t really interested. Having racehorses is just a great big hole to pump money into as far as we’re concerned. Come this way.’

  *

  Alice had combed her hair and added fresh vermillion lipstick and a quick spray of Arpege, her favourite perfume, when Cindy poked her head around the door to see if she was ready.

  ‘Yes, all set, Cindy. Now, how about you give me a little tour of the house? It’s old, isn’t it?’

  Cindy nodded as she led Alice down the long dark hallway. ‘Murray’s great-grandfather had it built at the turn of the century. Why don’t I take you out to the verandah for a drink and you can see the place as we go?’

  Alice didn’t say much as she took her time trailing Cindy through the sitting room, drawing room and dining room, pausing to study a painting or lift up a vase or dish on the sideboard to examine it.

  ‘It’s all so old. I don’t mean heritage old, like an English castle, but just old-fashioned,’ said Alice, wrinkling her nose. ‘And dark. This house needs a lot more light. Light is so important in Palm Springs. You should introduce it here,’ continued Alice, as she looked around the dingy dining room with its heavy, unfashionable furniture. ‘It’d be a big job bringing this house up to scratch. It’s all so last century.’ She shook her head slowly before turning to Cindy. ‘Okay, let’s go meet your father-in-law.’

  Cindy had been dreading this meeting, but Alice sailed onto the pretty verandah, where Spencer, Lawrence and Murray were ensconced in comfortable chairs with drinks in their hands, chatting amicably. The three men quickly rose to their feet as the women approached.

  ‘Ah, the famous Alice,’ said Lawrence genially, shaking Alice’s hand and making her gold bracelets jangle. ‘I am honoured to meet you. It’s lovely to have both you and your husband as guests. Cynthia has so been looking forward to your arrival.’

  Cindy excused herself, mumbling something about going to see if she could help Mrs Flowers. This was not strictly true, but she simply couldn’t stay there and watch Lawrence putting on his charm act.

  Cindy walked through the house and stepped outside into the back garden, where she drew several deep breaths. She felt emotional at seeing Alice, and knew it was because her aunt brought her close to the life that had once been so familiar to her and which now seemed so long ago. She suddenly realised how much she had missed her aunts, especially Babs, as well as her cousin Joey, and how much she’d longed to introduce her children to the people she loved so much.

  The sun would set soon. Steeling herself, she drew another deep breath and turned back into the house.

  Cindy rejoined the group and sat quietly as they all watched an especially magnificent sunset.

  ‘We laid it on just for you, Alice,’ said Lawrence.

  ‘Well, there’s nothing blocking the view, that’s for sure,’ said Alice.

  ‘The wide open spaces. Like the desert back home. So this is good sheep-grazing country, Lawrence?’ asked Spencer.

  ‘Yes, it’s tough country, not like the lush coastal land, but sheep thrive on the dry, coarse herbage. They’re perverse creatures. Spoil them and they’re done for.’

  ‘Wool breeders are a bit that way too,’ added Murray. ‘It’s a gamble each season whether you’re rich or ruined, depending on the weather. One day you can’t give ’em away, the next you get two inches of rain and you’ve got buyers lined up at the gate.’

  ‘It sounds an unpredictable business,’ agreed Spencer.

  ‘What are our plans for tomorrow?’ asked Alice, clearly bored by the sheep talk.

  ‘Perhaps Cynthia can take you on a bit of a tour of the district. And tomorrow night I’ve had Cynthia invite some of our local VIPs in for dinner,’ said Lawrence.

  ‘They’re just our friends. It won’t be a civic reception, or anything like that,’ interjected Cindy.

  ‘We wanted them to meet you. They’ve heard all about you from Cindy,’ added Murray quickly.

  ‘Lovely. We can tell them about Palm Springs,’ said Alice.

  ‘I’m sure they’d love to hear about it,’ said Murray tactfully. ‘And then we thought the following day we could go to the Picnic Races. They may not be what you’re used to in the States, but they’re a lot of fun and it’s a chance for you to see how we enjoy ourselves in the bush. May I freshen your drink, Alice?’

  ‘Sounds like something I’d like to see,’ said Spencer cheerfully.

  ‘I’ll see how Mrs Flowers is travelling with our dinner,’ said Cindy, as she excused herself again. Lawrence glared at her as she left the verandah, though no one else seemed to notice.

  ‘Thank you, Murray. But I think I’ll go and change for dinner, if I may.’ Alice rose and followed Cindy out.

  The children were in the kitchen, finishing their dinner, and Cindy could tell they were tired after their long day. Cindy ruffled Russell’s hair affectionately. Seeing the child­ren always made her feel better.

  ‘Go and get ready for bed, you three, I’ll be along shortly.’

  ‘Don’t worry about them tonight,’ said Mrs Flowers. ‘You’ll want to be with your aunt and I’ve got dinner well in hand, so I’ll take care of them.’

  Cindy thanked Mrs Flowers and headed back along the hallway, where she met Alice coming the other way.

  ‘Oh good, I was hoping to catch you for a quick word,’ said Alice conspiratorially. ‘I want to tell you something that you may not want your husband to hear. You know that boy you used to be crazy about, Robbie Wilson? Well, Spencer has heard that he’s doing very well for himself. He’s a partner in a big law firm in San Francisco. I bet if you’d married him, you’d have a place of your own. Such a shame.’

  Cindy felt a flush of annoyance. ‘Aunt Alice, Murray is a good husband and I love him dearly. I cannot imagine being married to anyone else. And we have three children whom

  I adore. They’re everything to me,’ she protested quickly.

  The mention of Robbie had startled her. She had believed herself so in love with him all those years ago, but she hadn’t given him a thought in years. She was vaguely curious about what had happened to him, but certainly she had no regrets.

  ‘Alice, when I first came here, I didn’t think I’d ever like it out here, but this country gets to you. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else now, not even San Francisco. Believe me when I say that I chose the right man when I married Murray.’

  Alice shrugged. ‘If you say so. Anyway, you should bring the children back to the desert sometime. They’ll enjoy it, and it will expose them to another way of life; to taste and glamour. It would be exciting for them, and Babs so wants you to come over.’

  ‘Hopefully we’ll visit one day,’ said Cindy vaguely, wondering how they would ever be able to round up five airfares.

  Spencer wandered in, looking for his wife.

  ‘I wondered where you’d gone, dear. You gals having a chat? I thought I’d put my feet up for ten minutes. You getting dolled up, sweetie?’

  ‘What do you think? I’ve been in these clothes all day,’ said Alice.

  ‘Tell her she doesn’t need the tiara tonight, Cindy.’

  Cindy smiled at them. ‘Relax. Dinner will be ready in about an hour. When you’ve changed, why don’t you go back onto the verandah and help yourself to another drink? It’s lovely out there on a summer’s evening.’

  *

  Alice swept into the pre-dinner drinks in a bold geometric print jumpsuit with wide palazzo legs and a deep V neckline. Lawrence couldn’t take his eyes off Cindy’s exotic aunt. She must certainly have seemed like a bird of paradise to him. Spencer, sartorially slightly more subdued in a pale green polo shirt and plaid slacks, trailed behind her.

  Murray wore moleskin pants and a checked shirt and Lawrence a blue shirt,
grey slacks and a red woollen tie. Cindy had dressed hurriedly and wished she’d taken a bit more trouble when she saw Alice’s critical eye flick over her simple cotton shirtdress, though she had added Murray’s strand of pearls, which had been one of the items rescued by some miracle from the demolished old house.

  Lawrence, who seemed to be enjoying Spencer’s company, was in an expansive mood. Spencer began to ask him and Murray about their prize rams.

  ‘I’ve been looking at the photographs in the hall and I’m quite amazed at the size of those beasts. They look like they can hardly walk under all that wool.’

  ‘The Merino sheep in this area are Peppins, named after the family who first bred a tougher sheep for this type of country. Saltbush plains were good for cattle, but the sheep had to walk for miles to feed, so the Peppin family started to breed a bigger, stronger beast. Suits this area perfectly,’ said Lawrence.

  ‘Their wool’s better, too,’ said Murray. ‘It has longer, stronger fibres that can be combed out and spun using the new spinning machines that help keep wool competitive with cotton. Our Merinos carry a lot more wool than other sheep, too. Peppin rams are now sold all over the world.’

  ‘So the wool industry is still good, then?’ asked Spencer.

  ‘Times are changing,’ said Lawrence. ‘The wool industry wants certainty and we’re going to get it. The new Australian Wool Corporation is taking control of that and Australia will be dictating wool prices for the world.’ Lawrence leaned back in his chair, a smug smile on his face.

  Alice flicked her leg, bored with the conversation. ‘Well, I’m wearing silk, although frankly all I sell these days are synthetics. Fashionable people so prefer them.’

  Cindy was stung by her aunt’s tactlessness, but Lawrence made no comment.

  ‘It must be time for dinner,’ he said mildly. ‘I’m sure I can hear Mrs Flowers in the dining room. Shouldn’t you go and check, Cynthia?’ His tone was clipped, implying Cindy was failing as a hostess. Cindy’s cheeks burned as she stepped out of the room, though no one else seemed to notice the barb.

  At dinner Alice looked a bit dismayed at the huge lamb roast.

  ‘Is it one of your own? I mean, it didn’t have a name, I hope? I can’t say that I enjoy meat. Perhaps I’ll just stick with a few vegetables.’

  Lawrence gave her a sharp look, but returned his attention to Spencer.

  The rest of the meal passed without incident and Alice and Spencer turned in early, claiming fatigue from the ‘epic’ drive, as Alice described it. The first day had been a success. Cindy wasn’t sure what Alice thought of Kingsley Downs, but she had never felt prouder of her home.

  *

  The next day Cindy took the visitors on a tour of the district. They went into Yamboola, where Alice and Spencer paused for some photos outside the Majestic Hotel, which they decided was quaint, but were not prepared to stop inside for a drink. They drove back to Kingsley Downs for lunch and then Cindy took them into Deniliquin. Alice was clearly unimpressed, so their visit was somewhat cursory, although both insisted on having their photos taken standing near the black swans which were resting on the banks of the Edward River.

  The dinner party that night went off smoothly enough, even though it was soon apparent that Alice and Spencer had little in common with the other guests. Alistair had no trouble charming Alice, who was clearly flattered by his gentlemanly manners, and Joanna paid attention to Spencer. Lawrence was still cool and gruff towards Cindy, but continued to be so unexpectedly pleasant to Alice that Jo kept looking at Cindy in bemused surprise. But, in spite of all the conviviality, Cindy could see that the interests of the Riverina and those of Palm Springs were very far apart. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant evening, especially as all of their friends made such an effort at making her relatives feel welcome and interesting.

  The Picnic Races provided the opportunity for a more stimulating day. Mrs Flowers kindly volunteered to look after the children so that Cindy could concentrate her attentions on her aunt.

  Alice fussed about an appropriate hat to go with her floaty chiffon floral dress.

  ‘Alice, wear that sunhat you wore when you arrived,’ said Cindy. ‘If you take off the red ribbons, it’ll be perfect.’

  Alice thought a moment, then asked Sally to take her around the garden, and they picked a mass of roses, which she pinned around the wide brim.

  The rural setting and basic amenities of the country race meeting initially surprised the visitors, but the ambience and the picnic lunches – lavish or simple, from car boots, spread out on rugs on the grass, or under the trees on tables set with linen and crystal, or with paper plates and mismatched cutlery – created a unique experience for them. There were several barbecues and the smell of cooking meat wafted through the air.

  ‘It’s like a country fair,’ said Alice, looking around at the refreshment tent, chocolate wheel, and the bookmakers shouting their prices, their boards hastily chalked with horses’ names and their odds. ‘But I can’t understand a word they’re saying. Is there no grandstand? And that’s the track? With just that small railing?’

  ‘We’ve found a good spot under a tree. Follow me. There’s benches and a bit of shade,’ said Murray with a grin. As they made their way over to the tree, they nodded and smiled at the other racegoers, Cindy, Murray and Lawrence pausing to chat with the people they knew. Alice could not take her eyes off the women, examining what they wore with an expert eye.

  ‘Glad to see these women have made an effort, anyway,’ she said. ‘Hats and even gloves in this heat and dust. Good golly.’ She coughed and waved her hands as a cloud of dust descended on them as the horses in race number two thundered past on their way to the finishing line.

  They settled themselves on the chairs that Murray had retrieved from the boot of the car, as well as a thick plaid travelling rug, and Lawrence quickly opened a bottle of champagne.

  Murray waved away the glass of bubbles. ‘Think I’d rather have a beer in this heat, thanks, Dad. What about you, Spencer?’

  Drinks in hand, they studied the racing programme and, after some quick analysis of the form of the runners, the men made their way to the bookies to place some bets. By some fluke, Alice’s first selection managed to come in second, and after that there was no stopping her. She placed multiple bets on all the races and sometimes even managed to win some more money.

  Later in the day Alice graciously accepted the prize for the best fashions on the field, as was her due. But nonetheless she was pleased, and posed for the local newspaper photographer.

  ‘Cindy, make sure that you get the photos from the newspaper and copies of the paper itself. No one in Palm Springs will realise what a little event these races are if I put the photos into gorgeous frames.’

  Spencer, with a loosened tie and slightly flushed face, had also bet on every race and celebrated his occasional wins as if he owned each horse. ‘Heck, this beats the Kentucky Derby!’

  He gave Cindy a hot tip for the next race, but she laughed and shook her head. ‘I’ve done my dash, as they say around here.’

  ‘But you’ve not bet on one race!’ Alice frowned. ‘Haven’t you got any money? Spencer, give Cindy some cash. You’ve won enough.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bother, Spencer,’ snorted Lawrence, his face curled into a sneer. ‘Cindy wouldn’t know one end of a horse from another. She’d be just throwing your money away.’

  Cindy cringed at Lawrence’s harsh comment, but didn’t want to make a fuss in front of her aunt.

  ‘It’s fine, thank you. And I am hopeless at picking winners. If I bet on a horse, it’s sure to run last. I do hope you and Spencer had fun. I know it’s a bit different from what you’re used to doing,’ said Cindy.

  Both of them assured her that they had never experienced anything to match this day.

  By the time they reached Kingsley Downs, the sun had set and the children we
re well and truly asleep in their beds.

  ‘They wanted to stay up to see you,’ Mrs Flowers explained to Alice, ‘but I didn’t know when you’d be back.’

  ‘I expect they did, but I’ll see them tomorrow before we head off,’ replied Alice. Then, turning to Cindy, she added, ‘How about the two of us have a little tete-a-tete while the boys have a drink on the verandah?’

  When they had both settled into the chintz-covered chairs outside Alice’s room, Cindy was about to say how much she had enjoyed having her aunt visit, when Alice spoke first.

  ‘I do not understand this at all,’ said Alice vehemently.

  Cindy was taken aback. ‘Sorry, Alice. What are you talking about?’

  ‘Your father-in-law. Why do you allow that man to treat you the way he does? Why does Murray allow him to speak to you like he does? I had no idea Murray was such a weak man.’

  Cindy was stunned. She thought Alice had been impressed with Lawrence, as he had been nothing but courteous, and even charming, to her.

  As if sensing Cindy’s thoughts, Alice sniffed. ‘I can spot a phoney, a fake, and a hypocrite a mile away. I’m not like Babs, who thinks everybody is lovely. I am much more discerning. That man is a hypocrite. Speaks to me as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, but is appalling to you. So, what’s the story?’

  Cindy was still reeling. She’d always thought Alice was so self-centred that she took no notice of anything in which she wasn’t the centre of attention.

  ‘Well? What’s the story with this man?’ Alice demanded.

  ‘Lawrence? Well, it’s very difficult. I’m not entirely sure that I know –’

  ‘Difficult? I’d say sharing a house with that man would be purgatory. Having to live in his house and have him treat you like staff!’

  ‘Alice, you’ve only been here a little while –’

  ‘And he calls you Cynthia. No one has called you that since the day you were born. Lord, how obnoxious he is. I’ve watched you grow up and you’ve turned out quite well. You do not deserve to be treated like that. Why doesn’t your husband stand up for you?’