by Di Morrissey
‘That’s not fair. Murray does take my side, but I guess we both just want to keep the peace. And it’s difficult, because Lawrence owns and runs everything.’
‘If you ask me, Murray’s under Lawrence’s thumb, too.’
‘It might look that way, but we are a bit stuck.’
Cindy explained that Lawrence held the purse strings and, though one day Murray would inherit the property, while Lawrence was in charge they did things his way.
‘Of course, Murray feels an obligation to his father. As I’ve told you and Babs in my letters, Lawrence raised Murray after his mother left.’
‘Personally, she seems to me to have been a woman of good sense,’ said Alice emphatically. ‘I wouldn’t have stayed either. Neither would Babs.’
‘Well, I’m not going anywhere. This is my home, Alice. I would never leave like Rose did.’
‘Then you’re trapped.’
‘No, I am not. Let’s not talk about it.’ To Cindy’s relief, Spencer came into the room and Alice turned to him.
‘Spencer, I’m thinking that Cindy and the children should come for a visit. We will fly her and the kids back to the States, anytime she wants, won’t we?’
Spencer was taken aback. ‘Huh? Have I missed something? Of course we will. Is there a problem?’
‘You haven’t missed a thing,’ said Cindy hastily.
‘Cindy, listen to me. You’re living with a man who treats you with contempt and disrespect. If he continues in this vein, your children will lose all respect for you, too. Murray is caught in the middle, but he will stick by his father,’ said Alice firmly. ‘I can always tell with this sort of thing.’
‘Alice, don’t upset Cindy,’ said Spencer.
‘Nonsense, she needs to hear some home truths. In short, you have a father-in-law who’s a pain in the ass. ’Scuse my French,’ said Alice caustically.
‘Hey, Alice, cool it. Cindy is a grown woman now.’ Spencer reached out and patted Cindy’s shoulder. ‘But just the same, if you need to, all you have to do is call us.’
‘Thank you.’ Cindy was close to tears. ‘Please, don’t say anything to Babs. I don’t want to worry her and I will come to Palm Springs when the children are old enough to appreciate it, I promise.’
‘Cindy, this is my final word on the subject,’ said Alice crisply. ‘And that is, you need to stand up to Lawrence, show some backbone. You have every right. Take control of your life and don’t let anyone walk over you. He’s a man who takes advantage of the weak. It will only get worse. If you don’t stand your ground now, you will regret it. Do it for Murray, too. If he can’t, you’ll have to do it yourself.’
Cindy drew a shaky breath. She knew Alice was right.
*
Cindy wanted to spend as much time as she could with Alice and Spencer as their visit drew to a close. Having Alice around made her realise just how terribly she missed Babs as well.
‘I’m coming to the airport with you,’ she announced. ‘Because I want to spend every second I can with you. I’ll miss you both so much once you’ve gone. It’s been very special having you here.’
‘We’ll describe it all to Babs, and show her our photos. She’ll be longing to hear,’ said Spencer.
Murray smiled when Cindy told him she was going to the airport too. ‘Of course. I think we might leave the kids behind this time, if Mrs F is okay with that. Do you want to stay overnight, go to dinner in Melbourne, and come back the next day?’
Cindy was tempted, but she really didn’t want to leave the children for too long, and in any case she didn’t feel it was fair to impose on the housekeeper too much. Besides, she’d miss them if they stayed for the night.
‘So sweet and thoughtful of you, darling. No, we’d best head back. Maybe we can plan something another time.’
Cindy was tearful at the airport saying her goodbyes, but as they drove back out of the city Murray let her talk, and she reminisced about Babs and Alice and her life in Palm Springs. Mostly they were stories he’d heard before, but he let her prattle on, as it seemed to be her way of dealing with the parting from Alice and Spencer.
After a while, Cindy sighed and said, ‘It’s just been so nice to have family visit. I do hope we can take the children to California someday.’
‘Let’s see how the next wool sales go. Now that the Wool Corporation is up and functioning we’ll have a much better idea of what our income is,’ said Murray.
Cindy laid her head back on the seat and shut her eyes, glad to relax after four days of visitors. She realised she was quite exhausted.
She dozed, but woke suddenly as Murray muttered aloud.
‘What is it?’ Cindy saw that they were almost at their gate and the sun had set.
‘Lights in the paddocks.’
‘Maybe Tom’s out after the ’roos? Or rabbits? I don’t see anything,’ Cindy suggested.
‘Maybe,’ said Murray, but his voice was strained. They rattled over the cattle grid and Murray drove down the driveway with unusual speed.
‘What do you think is up?’ asked Cindy.
‘It’s starting to get dark, so someone has lights out there, looking for something. Might be a missing animal.’
Cindy’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh no. The children! You don’t think something has happened to one of them?’
‘We’ll know in a few minutes,’ said Murray grimly, putting his foot down even further and making the vehicle slew on a corner of the dirt track.
As they skidded to a halt outside the house, Murray put his hand on the horn. Mrs Flowers appeared straight away and Cindy could tell from her expression that something was terribly wrong.
‘What’s going on? What’s happened? Where are the children?’ cried Cindy, stumbling towards her.
Before Mrs Flowers could answer, Sally came rushing from behind her and flung herself at her mother, weeping hysterically.
‘Where are the boys?’
‘Gordon’s with Grandfather.’
‘Mrs Parnell …’ started Mrs Flowers, then broke down and put her hands to her face as she, too, burst into tears.
Murray put his arm around her shoulders. ‘What has happened?’ he asked hoarsely, shaking her gently.
Between choking sobs, Mrs Flowers managed to say, ‘It’s Russell … He’s missing. Everyone is out looking.’
As Cindy gasped, Murray ran into the house.
‘Oh my God! What happened? When did he disappear?’ Cindy grasped Mrs Flowers’s hand.
Tearfully, Mrs Flowers managed to speak. ‘The children were on the verandah, we had lunch out there. Gordon and Sally carried the plates in when we’d finished, and I went into the kitchen to wash them up. And, I don’t know, it must have been only fifteen or twenty minutes later when we realised Russell wasn’t with us.’
‘Lunchtime!’ shrieked Cindy. ‘He’s been gone all afternoon! Oh, my poor boy. The creek! Oh God, he’s not down there … ?’
Mrs Flowers took her arm. ‘No. No. We checked the creek and the dams straight away. There’s no sign of him there. We think he just wandered off and got lost. Come inside and leave it to the men. There’s a whole lot of them out here. Perce Jackson, the fire brigade, some people from town, the football team … my Tom and the jackaroo.’
‘That jackaroo couldn’t find his own way out of a paper bag. Where’s Mr Parnell?’ snapped Cindy, trying to keep the hysteria she felt rising in her under control.
‘He’s out there –’ started Mrs Flowers.
‘He’s out there with Gordon? What does he think he’s doing? Getting his other grandson lost as well?’ Cindy could barely get the words out.
Murray came running out of the house. ‘I’ll get someone to send Gordon back,’ he said, as he raced over to the farm trucks. ‘It’ll be all right. I promise you.’
In a couple of secon
ds, the truck had raced away into the gathering gloom.
Holding Sally’s hand tightly, Cindy followed Mrs Flowers indoors, casting anxious glances over her shoulder at the swiftly falling night. Mrs Flowers made a pot of tea as Cindy sat at the table, her head resting on her arms, her face buried, unable to avoid the horror of what might have befallen Russell.
But as Mrs Flowers put the cup in front of her and lightly touched her shoulder, Cindy lifted her head.
‘It’s so unlike him. He was on the verandah, you came inside, and suddenly he was just gone?’ she said in a disbelieving voice.
‘That boy can be a bit of a dreamer, off in a world of his own. But they’ll find him,’ said Mrs Flowers, trying to sound positive, but the anguish on her face tore at Cindy. ‘I’m so sorry that I wasn’t watching him closely enough.’ Tears started to roll down her cheeks once again.
‘I’m not blaming you, Mrs Flowers. I know you love my children, but I just want him home. I can’t sit here any longer. I’m going out to look for him.’ She jumped to her feet.
‘Where are you going, Mummy?’ asked Sally anxiously. ‘Don’t leave me.’ The little girl started to cry.
Cindy hesitated. ‘All right, you can come. I’ll get some torches. Sally, why don’t you go and get Russell’s red truck? It’s got a loud siren thing on it. We’ll search along the creek again. He loves it down there. The men might have missed him.’
Cindy drove carefully with the headlights on high beam, pausing at the woolshed to call out as Sally turned on the shrill siren on Russell’s toy truck.
Cindy headed around the paddock, past the big peppercorn tree and around the blackberry bushes. She parked the car by the willows that hung over the creek and she and Sally hopped out.
‘Sally, don’t move out of my sight. Shine the torches along the banks. God forbid he’s here.’ For once, the creek water looked dangerous, murky and sinister. The tree roots and rotting logs in the oozy mud looked like traps for a small boy. Cindy looked carefully in the watery torchlight. There was no sign of any disturbance that she could see.
‘Doesn’t look like he came this way,’ said Cindy after she’d gone as far along the creek as she could while still keeping Sally in sight. ‘Okay. Back to the car.’
‘Where to now, Mummy?’
‘I’m going to drive slowly back down the track to the old gate, past where the old house was, and towards the Yamboola road.’
Cindy had always avoided going near the old house, now a pile of rusty corrugated iron, rubble, bricks and wood amidst the broken fences and overgrown garden.
‘Mummy, that’s miles away.’
‘Who knows how far he’s walked in five or six hours?’ As the car pulled up, the headlights spotlighted the dismal remains of the old house. She started the engine again, turned the wheel and bumped onto the track that was once so familiar to her.
It was now very dark. The moon had yet to rise. And her baby boy was out there, somewhere, all alone. She shuddered.
‘Mummy, what’s that?’ asked Sally, pointing out into the darkness.
‘What? Where?’ Cindy braked, peering into the night which was pierced only by the twin beams of her headlights.
Sally craned forward. ‘I thought I saw something moving … to the side of the track. Maybe just a kangaroo. Mum, it’s further up.’ The little girl leaned forward and started to roll down the window. ‘I hear something … like singing, sort of.’
Cindy turned the car to the right, the lights sweeping across the track to trees and grass on the opposite side.
‘There’re some people over there!’ she shouted.
‘People! Who are they?’ asked Sally.
‘I think they’re blackfellas, Aborigines,’ said Cindy.
Cindy brought the car to a halt and sprinted out as soon as she’d flung open her door.
‘Mummy, Mummy!’ Sally climbed out too, as she saw her mother start to run towards the shadowy figures and, grabbing her torch, followed her mother across the paddock.
It took only a moment for Cindy to grasp what was happening. The small group of Aborigines had moved from the side of the road into the beam of the headlights illuminating the track, still singing, their chant now quite loud.
In the lead there was an old man wearing khaki shorts and a faded shirt, followed by a dog, and a younger man who was carrying a bush knife. Cindy could see an older woman wearing a knitted beanie on her greying head, and behind her were several other young people. One of the girls was piggybacking another child. As Cindy ran towards them, the girl leaned down and the child jumped from her back and ran forward on his short strong legs.
‘Mummy!’
‘Russell!’ Cindy shrieked. As she reached him, she picked him up, grasping him to her chest as if to embed him in her heart. She sobbed with relief.
The old man stopped singing and they all stood back watching Sally and Cindy cuddle Russell.
‘Where’ve you been, young man? You scared us all silly,’ said Cindy.
She put Russell down, but held his hand tightly.
‘Thank you,’ she said, and reached out her other hand to the Aboriginal elder. ‘I remember you. You saved my life when my house was blown away.’
The old man gave her a large grin. ‘Young fella bin walkabout, missus. We find him sleepin’ under big tree. He legs tired, so we carry him back. We know he belong to you.’
‘How far away was he?’
‘Long way, missus. Too far for little fella.’
Cindy glanced down at her son again. ‘Are you okay, Russell? You didn’t hurt yourself?’
The little boy shook his head. ‘I’m hungry.’
‘Where’ve you been?’ demanded Sally.
‘Sally, your brother is safe and well, that’s the main thing for now. Goodness, we have to let Daddy know. Russell, say thank you to everyone for finding you and bringing you home,’ said Cindy. ‘Shake hands.’
Russell went to the old man and flung his arms around his waist. ‘Thank you. Thank you for my song.’
Cindy looked at the group who were standing quietly, smiling. ‘What song? The song you were singing just then?’
The old man nodded. ‘We sing him his country. So he know his way and no get lost no more.’
Suddenly the quiet night was shattered by an ear-splitting wail.
‘My truck!’ Russell ran towards the car as his sister pressed the siren on the little boy’s red truck.
Cindy pressed the old man’s hand in hers. ‘We will see you again.’
He nodded and smiled. ‘He a good young fella.’ And the group turned back the way they had come.
‘Can we give you a ride in the car?’ Cindy called, as they filed silently away on thick-soled feet. But no one took any notice as they continued moving quietly into the night.
*
There were people everywhere, friends and neighbours, the police and even a reporter from the local newspaper. As soon as Cindy pulled up in the car with her son, there was a sensation. Everyone rushed over to the vehicle as Cindy struggled out of it, holding the little boy. Murray pushed his way through the small crowd and took Russell from Cindy’s arms. He hugged his son and kissed his wife. The mood in the yard was jubilant.
Mrs Flowers quickly brewed a big pot of tea and whipped up sandwiches and biscuits, which the twins passed around while Murray opened bottles of beer. Lawrence thanked everyone quietly and disappeared into his office.
Russell was briefly the centre of attention before being scooped up by Cindy to be bathed and fed and cuddled with a bedtime story. Russell was quickly asleep, tightly holding his stuffed teddy bear. While Murray farewelled the crowd, Cindy found the twins and gave them a quick hug.
‘Thank you both for helping. Daddy and I appreciate it. Now, finish your supper and get ready for bed.’
‘Is Russell
going to get into trouble?’ asked Sally.
‘I think he’s had a big enough scare to learn his lesson,’ said Cindy. ‘So let’s not talk about it again, okay?’
‘Grandfather already went mad at him, when you were outside thanking everyone,’ said Sally as she headed to her bedroom.
‘Hang on, Sally, what did Grandfather say?’ asked Cindy. Then she noticed Gordon poke Sally in the ribs for speaking out. Sally, however, took no notice of her brother.
‘He shouted at him for running away and giving everyone a fright. And then he shook him. Russell was really frightened by Grandfather, so he won’t run away again, Mummy.’
‘I see,’ said Cindy, trying to keep her tone neutral for the children. ‘And did he say anything else?’
‘Well,’ said Gordon. ‘He did say that you didn’t know how to look after us properly.’
‘Did he now?’ said Cindy. ‘Go and see if Mrs Flowers has something ready for your dinner. Well, we’ll start a new day tomorrow and put all this behind us.’ She turned away with a set mouth and tight expression.
She found Mrs Flowers in the kitchen. ‘Do you know where Mr Parnell is, Mrs F?’ she asked.
‘In his study. I’m just about to make us a bit of dinner for the twins and then I’ll find something for the rest of us. I bet you’re all pretty hungry.’
Cindy nodded, but her face was grim and Mrs Flowers raised an eyebrow as she watched Cindy turn away. Cindy marched down the hallway, her anger rising with every step. How dare Lawrence say she was a bad mother – and to her children! She was a good mother and she knew it. How dare he undermine her! Alice was right. She had to take a stand right now.
Cindy knocked on the study door and pushed it open before waiting for a reply. Lawrence looked up from his desk, and frowned when he saw her.
‘Is there something urgent, Cynthia?’
She stared at him. ‘Why do you insist on calling me that? You know I prefer Cindy – it’s all I’ve ever been called.’
‘Cynthia is your given name.’
‘I’ve heard you call Sally “Sal”.’
