A Distant Journey

by Di Morrissey

  ‘I thought it important for the children to meet their great-aunt,’ said Cindy, stepping inside. ‘I hope you don’t mind this intrusion.’

  Marie waved her hand. ‘Tell me, how did you find me? It’s been a long time since I’ve had any contact with the Parnells.’

  ‘It was quite easy. I was given your address from years ago, but to tell you the truth, I didn’t expect to find you still living here.’

  ‘And how is Murray?’ Marie asked excitedly.

  ‘I’ve brought a photo of him,’ said Cindy. She rummaged in her purse and handed Marie a photograph.

  ‘Good heavens,’ said Marie, looking at the picture in amazement. ‘Murray looks so much like my son James, you would take them for brothers.’

  Sally’s voice called from behind her. ‘Mum?’

  Cindy turned as Jo appeared in the doorway, the children tumbling after her.

  ‘Marie, this is my friend Joanna, and these are my twins, Sally and Gordon. Russell, their brother, is being minded by Jo’s mother. Children, this is Mrs Williams, your great-aunt.’

  Marie smiled, her eyes twinkling. ‘Oh my, you are a good-looking pair. I am so pleased to meet you. I’m your Auntie Marie.’ She leaned down and embraced them. Gordon submitted quietly to being hugged. Sally, however, returned the bear hug enthusiastically.

  Marie laughed. ‘Come through to the kitchen, everyone.’ She led the way down a long hall to a large, messy but welcoming room out the back. Marie gestured to a small meals table in one corner of the bright room.

  ‘You have a beautiful home,’ Jo commented.

  ‘Thank you, dear,’ said Marie. ‘My husband and I bought this house when we were first married, and I’ve never wanted to live anywhere else, and even though my husband died a few years back, and this place is really too large for one person to rattle around in, I still don’t want to move. You see, my daughter and her brood live fairly close by, and my son, who is in Singapore at present, is moving back in a few months, thank goodness. He’s getting married. We’re so thrilled. And he wants to buy a house in the neighbourhood, too.’ She went to the kitchen bench and poured steaming hot water from a kettle into a teapot. She turned to the children, beaming. ‘Now, we grown-ups are having tea, so who wants cordial and who wants milk?’

  ‘Are there biscuits?’ asked Gordon.

  ‘Gordon, don’t be so rude,’ said Cindy crossly. ‘You should wait to be asked.’

  ‘He’s probably hungry, so it’s a very good question,’ said Marie kindly. ‘Of course there are. Sally, they’re in that tin on the sideboard. I’ll give you a plate and you put out the biscuits. You can have two each.’

  The children took the plate and scurried over to the tin, and Marie continued, ‘We’ll leave the tea to brew. Do come and sit down in the sunroom. I want to hear all about you.’

  ‘I’ll stay here with the children while they have their drink, and make the tea, if you like,’ offered Joanna.

  ‘Thank you, dear, that’s most kind of you. You’ll find cups in that cupboard. Come along, Cindy. You don’t sound Australian, if you don’t mind my saying,’ Marie said, as she led the way to a cheerful sunroom.

  ‘I’m American. I met Murray in California,’ answered Cindy. ‘Look, I hope I’m not holding you up. This is so kind of you … to be so welcoming out of the blue to virtual strangers,’ she said, as Marie motioned her to a chair by the window.

  ‘Nonsense. It’s not every day you have family you don’t know you had drop by.’ Marie laughed. ‘I’m so thrilled you found me. Murray wasn’t all that much older than your twins when I last saw him. I can’t believe that those children in the kitchen are his. I’d resigned myself to losing touch with my nephew. I used to send him letters and parcels for Christmas and his birthday for years, but they were always returned unopened. I thought it was such a pity.’ She paused and Cindy saw a touch of sadness in her eyes, but then Marie seemed to shake herself. ‘But here you are. It’s just the best surprise.’ She beamed happily at Cindy.

  Cindy studied the elegant woman with the bubbly personality. Marie, she guessed, was in her sixties. Obviously, she had once been beautiful, for she was still a very attractive woman. Her eyes were a piercing blue, very similar to the colour of Murray’s. Her fingers were graceful and surprisingly long. She sat in the chair beside Cindy, straight-backed, the carriage of her head erect on her slender neck. Cindy knew straight away that her dress was pure silk and a good label, and her low-heeled shoes were soft Italian leather. She wore vintage earrings set with what Cindy guessed were old diamonds. Marie’s hair was smoothed back from her face in a sleek chignon. Cindy wished she could tame her unruly curls in such a fashionable way.

  ‘And tell me, are you all living at Kingsley Downs?’ Marie asked.

  ‘Yes. Lawrence and Murray run the place together. Do you know it well?’

  Marie shook her head. ‘My husband and I went there once, not long after Rose and Lawrence were married.

  I found the place rather … remote. I’m not a country girl, I’m afraid, and I could never understand Rose giving up the life she had here to go and live in Yamboola. But of course, Lawrence was incredibly dashing – handsome, somewhat aloof, but also very charming at times, and the family were well off financially. And I was happy if my sister was happy.’

  ‘It must have been very sad for you when Rose vanished,’ said Cindy softly. She was not sure how Marie would react to such a statement, but she could hardly avoid acknowledging Rose’s disappearance.

  Marie cleared her throat. ‘Yes, it was. We were quite close, so I felt her loss keenly for a long time. But to tell you the truth, as I look back, I remember that in our last few conversations, Rose seemed sad. I thought that was because Murray had gone away to school and she missed him, but my husband, Jim, who was very perceptive, had the feeling she wanted to unburden herself to us in some way. In those days, though, it was difficult to talk without the whole neighbourhood listening in on that old party line they had, so an opportunity didn’t arise for us to speak together, in private. Then it was too late.’ She drew a breath. ‘I will never forget the morning the police arrived with the news she’d disappeared. I could offer them no help. I expected to hear from her, but wherever she went, she wasn’t prepared to tell even me.’

  ‘That must have been hard for you,’ said Cindy sympathetically.

  ‘It was. Still is in some ways. Time doesn’t necessarily heal all wounds, though it does make them fade. But I can never get over the fact that I know Rose wanted to tell me something important, and she never got the chance. Maybe if she had, things would have turned out differently, especially for Murray.’

  Cindy saw the sadness return to Marie’s eyes.

  ‘I know this probably sounds strange to you, but I’ve always felt rather like Rose and I are kindred spirits,’ ventured Cindy. ‘Because we were both city girls who ended up marrying country men and giving up the known for the unfamiliar. I met Murray while he was on holidays; how did Rose meet Lawrence?’

  ‘They met in Sydney. I can’t remember where. She worked such crazy hours. Classes during the day, shows at night …’

  Cindy held up her hand. ‘Whoa, what do you mean? What did your sister do?’

  Marie looked at Cindy for a moment and then burst out laughing. ‘You don’t know the Pearson sisters? Of course you don’t! Darling, we were famous!’

  ‘You were one of the Pearson sisters!’ exclaimed Jo as she came in with two cups of tea. ‘Can you hang on for a minute before you start the story? I want to hear it all and I need to get my cuppa.’

  ‘You’d better bring those twins in as well. Can’t have my nephew and niece neglected now that we’ve found each other. I doubt if they’ll ever hear the story from their grandfather, so they can hear it from me,’ said Marie cheerfully.

  Once everyone was together, Marie announced, ‘Come with me, you
lot. I’ve got some things I’d like you all to see.’

  Marie ushered them into a large study. The room was taken up with a desk, two chairs, a lamp, and along one of the walls was a large bookcase. In one corner of the study stood a beautiful grand piano, its lid open and sheets of music scattered across the top. The room seemed to be smothered in photographs. Many of them seemed to be photos of playing children and holiday snaps, but there was also a picture of a ballerina, theatrically made up and wearing a classical ballet costume on a stage, holding a huge bouquet of flowers as she curtsied to the audience. There were other black and white photos of the same dancer, portraits taken in front of huge mirrors and at the barre of a ballet studio, as well as with various dancers. There were also photographs of a slim girl on a stage seated at a grand piano being applauded by a surrounding orchestra, and another of the same girl shaking hands with an obviously important dignitary.

  Marie picked up the picture of the ballet dancer with the bouquet and showed it to the children.

  ‘This was my sister, your grandmother, taken when she was just seventeen. She was such a wonderful dancer,’ said Marie proudly.

  ‘Oh my goodness!’ said Cindy, looking at one of the pictures on the wall, quite stunned by what she saw. ‘What a talented dancer!’

  ‘Our parents thought so.’ Marie smiled. ‘Rose started dancing professionally with the Borovansky Ballet when she was quite young. She was performing with them when she met and married Lawrence.’

  ‘And you were a concert pianist?’ said Cindy.

  ‘Indeed. But once I married and had my children I stopped performing. Too little time to practise, but I was very happy and busy with my own life.’

  ‘I can hardly wait to tell Mum that I’ve met one of the famous Pearson sisters,’ said Joanna. ‘She’s told me stories about how talented and glamorous you both were. She was a big fan.’

  ‘Oh, it was a long time ago,’ said Marie with a smile. ‘Quite a different life, back then. Cindy, Murray never mentioned his mother was one of the Pearson sisters?’

  ‘He doesn’t talk about his mother much,’ hedged Cindy. Cindy leaned over to the twins, holding a photo. ‘What do you think about this picture?’

  ‘She’s really beautiful,’ said Sally. ‘I didn’t even know we had a grandmother.’

  ‘Me neither. Is she still a ballet dancer? Where is she now?’ asked Gordon.

  There was an awkward pause.

  ‘We’re not sure. Now, Sally and Gordon, do you like music and dancing?’ asked Marie briskly.

  Sally was thoughtful. ‘Yes, I do. I’d love to learn the piano.’

  ‘Sally!’ said Cindy in a surprised voice. ‘I had no idea you wanted to learn to play.’

  ‘Do you still play?’ Sally asked Marie.

  ‘Yes. Not as well as I used to, but I still love it.’

  ‘Can you play something, please, Auntie Marie?’ asked Gordon.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure Aunt Marie is busy right now—’ began Cindy.

  But Marie jumped up and clapped her hands. ‘Of course I can. What’s your favourite song, Gordon?’

  ‘“Old Macdonald Had a Farm”,’ said Gordon immediately.

  ‘That’s a baby song,’ said Sally scornfully.

  Marie went to the piano. ‘It’s one of my favourites, too, especially if we make the animal noises very loudly.’

  Marie sat down, ran her hands over the piano keys and began to play the old tune with vigour, then she burst into song. Sally and Gordon sang with her, laughing as they tried out all the different animal noises.

  After Marie had finished with ‘Old Macdonald’, she swung into a series of other popular songs. Sally sat beside her and watched Marie’s hands as her fingers raced across the keyboard, and all of them sang along. As she finished with a long trilling crescendo, there was a burst of applause from the doorway. Cindy and Jo turned to see a smiling woman, maybe a year or two older than they were, come into the room, followed by a boy who looked to be Gordon and Sally’s age and a girl of about ten.

  ‘How come we weren’t invited to this party?’ She laughed as she went and kissed Marie. ‘Hi, Mum.’

  Marie clasped her hands together. ‘Mon, you’ll never guess! Now, this pretty girl is Sally and this is her twin, Gordon. This is their mother, Cindy, and her friend Joanna. Cindy, this is my daughter Monica and my grandchildren, Toby and Holly.’

  ‘Lovely to meet you,’ said Monica with a grin, seemingly unfazed by the impromptu gathering. ‘Is there food? The kids are starving.’

  ‘And that’s not all, Mon,’ said Marie, ignoring the question. ‘Cindy’s and the twins’ last name is Parnell. They’re your cousins!’ she cried. ‘Now, while you all get acquainted, let’s go and make some cheese on toast.’ Marie headed to the kitchen, followed by all the

  children.

  Monica shrugged her shoulders and spread her arms wide, an amused smile on her face. ‘Cousins? Where from? Did Mum drag you in here from the park?’

  Jo and Cindy laughed. ‘The twins are your Aunt Rose’s grandchildren, and I’m married to your cousin Murray Parnell,’ explained Cindy. ‘We live at Kingsley Downs, in the Riverina.’

  ‘This is just marvellous,’ said Monica. ‘I don’t remember Mum having any contact with the Parnell side of the family for years. How did you track us down?’

  Cindy explained what had happened.

  Monica’s smile faded momentarily. ‘I’m afraid I don’t remember Aunt Rose, or really Murray, for that matter. Oh, poor Aunt Rose. Mum keeps all the old photos of her,’ she said, looking around the room.

  ‘Yes, I’ve learned more in the last hour about Murray’s mother than I’ve ever known. I’m not sure how much my husband knows about her, either. Your mother is an incredible woman, so generous, so warm.’

  ‘Yes. She has a big heart, but I expect that she is also very excited to have you contact her. Heavens, come and tell me all about yourself and my long-lost cousin Murray. What a pity it’s taken so long to meet you.’

  Another hour flew by as the children finished their toasties, and Holly showed Sally what she could play on her grandmother’s piano.

  ‘We really must go,’ said Cindy finally. ‘I should be getting back to Jo’s mother. I can’t leave her looking after Russell for too much longer.’

  ‘My goodness, bring him along next visit,’ said Marie. ‘When are you next coming to Sydney?’

  ‘I’m not sure. But I’ll call you when I get home. And I’m sure Murray would love to speak to you, too.’

  ‘I’d love to see him again. Now we’ve found you, we must keep in touch. And any time you’re in Sydney, feel free to stay here.’

  Reluctantly Cindy, Jo and the twins made their way towards the front door.

  ‘Come on, kids, say goodbye to Auntie Marie and thank her for a lovely afternoon,’ said Cindy.

  ‘Goodbye, and thank you for having us,’ said Gordon, scampering like a freed rabbit through the door.

  But Sally rushed forward and flung her arms around Marie’s waist. ‘Can you come to see us at Kingsley Downs?’

  ‘What a sweet girl you are. I think a nice visit to Sydney to see me would be a lot more fun for you.’ She smiled at Cindy. ‘Perhaps a visit to the symphony or the ballet?’

  Sally turned to Cindy, her eyes shining. ‘Could we? Could we, please, Mum?’

  Cindy’s heart was touched by the excited expression on her daughter’s face. ‘We’ll talk about it. Say goodbye, and go with the others.’

  Marie leaned down and Sally kissed her cheek. ‘Till we see you next time. And we’ll arrange something special for us to do. Hang on a minute, I’ve got something I’d like to give you.’ She dashed back to the study and returned a few seconds later with a large manila envelope, which she gave to Cindy.

  ‘I’ve had these tucked away. This has been the lovelies
t surprise, hasn’t it, Mon?’ She hugged Cindy and Monica gave her a kiss.

  ‘Welcome to our family, and please stay in touch!’

  *

  When they got back to Jo’s mother’s house, Cindy and Joanna went over the surprising details of their visit with Marie Williams.

  ‘To be caught by surprise like that, yet she was so generous and immediately accepting,’ said Joanna.

  ‘I was a bit taken aback that Murray has never mentioned Rose was a dancer or that Marie was such an accomplished pianist,’ said Cindy. ‘Maybe Lawrence didn’t tell him much about Rose at all. What a lot of news we have for him. Here, let’s see what Marie’s given us.’

  Cindy opened the envelope and pulled out several photographs, as well as some newspaper and magazine cuttings. There was a copy of Marie’s framed photograph of Rose on stage with the bouquet of flowers. There were several photos of them as young girls, Marie seated at the piano, and a school prizegiving with Rose holding an award. There were a few clippings from suburban news­papers, yellowed with age, about the two talented sisters, as well as a magazine article. There were assorted mentions over the years, more about Marie than Rose. There was no mention of Rose retiring, but in a clipping from the social pages of the Sydney Morning Herald, there was a wedding photo of Rose and Lawrence at the entrance of St Mark’s Church at Darling Point.

  Cindy studied the photograph.

  ‘How beautiful she looked,’ said Jo.

  The photo showed Rose, slender and dark-haired, a small pearl tiara crowning her long veil. She wore a satin dress which clung to her slim, almost bony body. The dress had long sleeves and one of Rose’s graceful arms was linked through Lawrence’s, while the other held a bouquet of trailing roses. Rose was smiling softly, her huge eyes dominating her face. Lawrence looked very handsome in a dinner suit, his face beaming with a triumphant air.

  ‘Lawrence looks like a movie star. You can see where Murray gets his good looks,’ commented Joanna.

  Cindy nodded in agreement. There was no doubt that Rose and Lawrence made a very handsome pair.

  The caption gave their names: Lawrence Parnell, of Kingsley Downs via Yamboola, and the bride, formerly Miss Rose Pearson, the daughter of Mr and Mrs Henry Pearson, of Turramurra. And, it added, Mrs Parnell was the former ballerina Rose Pearson, lately of the Borovansky Ballet.