A Distant Journey

by Di Morrissey

  ‘Talk to Kelly. I bet there are environmental issues happening in Australia right now. You should look into it.’

  Cindy nodded. ‘Okay, I will. It’s a whole new area for me,’ said Cindy. ‘I feel like I missed the civil rights movement of the sixties and the Vietnam protests of the seventies entirely, so it would be good to get on the ground floor of something worthwhile.’

  ‘Cin, you’re too hard on yourself. From what Mom has told me over the years, you’ve raised a good family and worked hard with Murray on your property. So I think you’ve done very well.’

  There was no doubting the truth of that, Cindy thought, but all the same, Joey had given her food for thought. It was about time she took up something new.

  *

  Cindy had decided to visit her father in Spokane for a couple of days, and then return to Palm Springs before heading back to Australia. Although the meeting with her elderly father and stepmother was brief, Cindy was glad she’d made the effort. She was pleased, too, that her father made time to take her to lunch alone, and although there were awkward pauses, they caught up on each other’s news. Cindy was quietly delighted when she realised that her father was proud of her achievements. When Cindy extended an invitation for her father and stepmother to visit her in Australia, however, Lisa recoiled in horror at the thought of travelling so far from Spokane. Cindy’s father had seemed only marginally more interested.

  Cindy did, however, muster the courage to ask if he could pass on to her any small items which had belonged to her mother to give to Sally, and her father had found a small brooch to give to his granddaughter.

  When Cindy returned to Palm Springs, she thought Babs seemed a bit weaker.

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Babs. ‘Your imagination is running away with you. I’m just fine. You know how good this climate is for your health.’

  On the final day of her holiday, Cindy had lunch with Alice and Spencer. Babs declined the invitation, saying that she could catch up with her sister any time.

  Spencer took them to one of Palm Springs’s hot new restaurants, and as Cindy looked around at the stylish and trendy décor before choosing her meal from the extensive menu, she momentarily yearned for places like this closer to her home.

  ‘It would be nice to be able to come to a place like this whenever you wanted to,’ she said wistfully.

  ‘You’re very unfortunate in that regard,’ said Spencer. ‘Living in a place as remote as Kingsley Downs does have its drawbacks. Beer, steak, eggs and chips, as you call them, had Alice in a state.’ He laughed at the memory.

  ‘All the same, you made the right choice. It could all have been very different. In fact, I think you’ve been very lucky,’ said Alice, with a sideways glance at Spencer. He shook his head.

  ‘Of course I did. Why would you think otherwise?’ asked Cindy, looking from one to the other, confused.

  Spencer and Alice exchanged another glance and Spencer rolled his eyes and waved his hand indicating for Alice to speak.

  ‘Remember Robbie Wilson?’ she said. ‘Turned into a first-class lawyer, working out of San Francisco. Well, he died quite recently.’ She paused dramatically. ‘And from what Spencer has heard, it was from that disease that homosexuals get. AIDS, I think it’s called.’

  Cindy gaped, looking from Alice to Spencer in shock as the truth sank in. Spencer nodded without meeting her eye. She didn’t know what to say. Poor Robbie, dead at such a comparatively young age. Someone she’d thought so wonderful, and who, for a brief time, had broken her heart. She was filled with confusion. If Robbie Wilson had been gay, as they called it now, how had she fitted into his life?

  As if to answer that question, Alice said indignantly, ‘I always thought there was something odd about that boy. You were fortunate to get away from him. I just don’t understand people like that. There is obviously something very wrong with them. How could you have got mixed up with such a person? I think his type is quite disgusting.’ She sniffed and wiped the table in front of her with her napkin, as if she suddenly felt unclean.

  ‘Alice, you really liked him! He was a good man. It doesn’t matter who he loved – man or woman,’ Cindy said sharply. ‘And he left me, not the other way around.’

  ‘Well, I think it’s just not normal,’ said Alice vehemently.

  Suddenly Cindy understood. Robbie had dated her because he needed to appear to be a part of ‘normal’ society. Perhaps he had even been trying to convince himself. But in the end, he must have accepted who he really was and so he had walked away from her. It would have taken courage to do that. There was also the fact that had Robbie not dropped her in the manner he did, she might never have fallen in love with Murray.

  She was aware that Alice was staring at her. She gave a small shrug. ‘I’m very sorry to hear that. It’s a terrible way to die. He was a lovely person.’

  Alice looked as though she was about to answer back when Spencer lifted his menu. ‘Anyway, let’s order,’ he said, clearly wanting to move on from the uncomfortable topic.

  In the car on the way home, Cindy found herself thinking of Robbie again. She hoped he had found someone who’d also taken the brave step of admitting who they really were and whom they loved. She hoped he’d been happy.

  *

  Babs and Cindy spent a last quiet night together. Cindy made a simple salad and poached chicken breasts. Babs didn’t seem to enjoy eating anything too complicated. As they had dinner, Cindy told her aunt what she had just learned about Robbie.

  ‘How very sad,’ said Babs. ‘You were so upset when he dropped you, but at least now you can understand why.’

  ‘And then along came Murray,’ said Cindy, with a smile.

  ‘Yes, indeed,’ said Babs quietly. ‘He was handsome and charming. I was surprised he’d never been married before. And once he saw you, I knew he was totally smitten. Someone like me didn’t stand a chance!’ Babs chuckled quietly.

  ‘Babs! What do you mean?’

  ‘Oh, nothing at all, now. But I remember at the time that I was rather impressed by him. Of course, I had no desire to race off to Australia, so it was no more than a passing interest.’ She gave a wan smile. ‘I’m so pleased you had the courage to marry him and take off to the other side of the world! I doubt I would have.’

  ‘It was a pretty reckless decision,’ Cindy said.

  ‘But it turned out to be the right one,’ Babs said, patting her hand.

  The next day, Cindy found it difficult to say goodbye to her aunt. Babs was firm and strong, though what it cost her Cindy wasn’t sure.

  Babs took Cindy by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. ‘Remember, you have a family, and they are the lucky ones. There’s too many who aren’t so fortunate. I love you, and I hope you hurry back to see me again. I know you and Joey will always be close, just the way we have been. Now, I want you to just drive away, like you did when you were heading back to college, always happy, never looking back.’

  ‘Babs … I …’ Cindy was close to tears as she held Babs’s thin, weightless hands.

  ‘None of that, my girl. I’ll be here waiting for you next time you visit.’ And, with surprising strength, Babs nudged her towards the door. Cindy picked up her bag, opened the door and stepped outside. Babs gently closed the door behind her.

  Cindy quickly drove away, knowing Babs would be watching, but around the corner she stopped, pulled over and, resting her head on the steering wheel, wept.

  *

  As Murray drove her home from the airport, he kept reaching out to touch her.

  ‘I missed you. Are you glad you went?’

  Cindy was glad to see her husband again too. ‘I am,

  I really am. Babs assures me that she is in remission, but I don’t know how long it will last. She puts on a brave face, but she seems to be getting weaker and weaker.’

  Swiftly, Cindy sank back into her
normal life, back to conversations about lamb sales, the price of the wool clip and the latest tales from the Wool Board. Lawrence always seemed to be going somewhere on business in his plane. There was a feeling of heightened energy about Kingsley Downs, as though the pace of life had suddenly been notched up a gear.

  The seasons passed. One day, Cindy was sitting outside with her mid-morning coffee, soaking up the warmth of the sun and admiring her roses, now in full bloom. At quiet times like this, she often thought about Babs. Her cancer had returned and, although she was staying positive, Cindy couldn’t help but worry.

  The phone rang and she put down her cup and hurried inside. There was an echo on the line as she answered, and suddenly she went cold. It was an international call.

  ‘Cin, it’s Joey …’ Her cousin’s voice faltered.

  ‘Oh, Joey. No. No … it’s Babs … isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, she died an hour ago. Peacefully at home. Kelly and I were with her.’

  Cindy’s throat constricted and she choked on the words. ‘Oh, Joey … I’m so sorry. Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m …’ His voice broke. ‘She loved you very much.’

  Cindy felt the tears running down her face. ‘I know. I loved her too. Is Alice all right? I should come over for the funeral …’

  ‘No, Alice told me to tell you not to. Mom left instructions to keep things simple. She was a no-fuss person, as you know.’

  ‘I feel so empty,’ said Cindy. ‘Joey, we must see more of each other. Bring the children out to visit. We’d so love to have you.’

  ‘We’ll talk about it, Cin. Kelly and the children send their love.’

  There was little more to say. Cindy hung up the phone and walked back outside.

  But it seemed now that the roses had faded and the sun had lost its warmth.

  10

  The small white dot slowly enlarged and grew into the angular shape of Lawrence’s plane. The indistinct buzz of the engine grew louder.

  ‘Here they come,’ sighed Mrs Flowers, her forehead dusted with flour, looking from her kitchen window across the paddocks towards the property’s little airstrip. ‘I do hope everything is to his liking. I’ve never known Mr Parnell to fuss so much about what I serve for morning tea!’

  Cindy nodded and then peered out the window to the driveway, looking for the two or three visitors who were coming by car. They’d flown into Deniliquin that morning because they couldn’t land their plane on Lawrence’s rough strip. Murray was anxious that this visit should go off without a hitch, hence Cindy’s presence at the big house.

  Over the last few years, Cindy had felt less hostility than she once had when she was in Lawrence’s house or in his presence. Although she could not forget – or forgive – the behaviour that must have driven Rose from the house, Cindy recognised that, over time, Lawrence had mellowed. While there would never be real warmth between them, she had to acknowledge that he loved his grandchildren. He was generous towards them, and always seemed to enjoy their company, especially that of the boys, and he’d been the proud grandfather at Sally’s wedding the previous year.

  Cindy spied a flurry of dust in the distance. ‘Looks like our guests are right on time.’

  Murray had told Cindy that the head of the Wool Corporation Board, the man whom Lawrence always referred to as the Emperor, was bringing some investors whom he described as ‘novices in the wool game’, to show them a well-regarded sheep station and get a few pointers before they headed off to some big sheep sales.

  ‘Though it’s their financial advisers who make all the decisions,’ Murray had added.

  In the past few years, wool had really boomed. Industry prices were at near record levels, helped by the bank and government guarantees. It seemed everyone wanted to get in on the act. Prices for top-quality breeding lines were going through the roof. In South Australia, a champion ram had been bought by an entrepreneur for close to a million dollars. Both Murray and Cindy had thought the price crazy.

  Now Murray hurried into the kitchen, dressed in his best wool jacket and tie, his boots shining, the crease in his pants sharp. ‘All set? Dad will drive his passengers up to the house and the car from Deni is coming up the drive.’

  ‘So is it tea and scones first, or after the shearing demonstration and the wool classer?’ asked Mrs Flowers, clearly flustered as she reorganised the scones yet again. ‘These visitors must be very important for Mr Parnell to go to the expense of hiring shearers and bringing in a wool classer for a couple of hours.’

  ‘I believe the morning tea will be after they’ve seen the woolshed demo. We’ll play it by ear, Mrs F. Keep the scones warm. My father is keen to make a good impression with these businessmen,’ said Murray as he hurried out.

  ‘I’d better be on the welcoming committee with him,’ said Cindy with a smile. She smoothed her skirt and her hair, adjusted her pearls and followed her husband outside, where a car was just pulling up in front of the house.

  A driver in a dark suit opened the car doors and three men stepped from the vehicle. Murray moved forward and shook hands, introducing himself and then Cindy.

  ‘Mr Packer, Mr Elliot, and Mr Price, this is my wife, Cindy.’

  Cindy smiled a greeting at the men and assumed her role as hostess. ‘Would you care to freshen up inside, gentlemen? There’s tea, coffee, or a cold drink,’ she said.

  ‘My father’s plane has just landed and he’s driving over to the house now with our other guests,’ added Murray.

  ‘Take us over to the woolshed. We can meet them there and just get on with things,’ said the large man in dark glasses, moleskin pants and an expensive jumper.

  The other visitors also wore graziers’ outfits similar to Murray’s, but their hats were new and their boots stiff and uncreased, their manner similarly brusque and businesslike.

  ‘Of course,’ said Murray. ‘Hop in the ute and we’ll head over there.’

  As they drove away, Cindy turned to the driver standing by the car. ‘Would you like a cup of tea? They’ll be ages at the shed.’

  The driver nodded gratefully.

  ‘Yes, thanks,’ he said and he followed Cindy onto the verandah where the elaborate morning tea had been set out.

  At least the driver has manners, Cindy thought ruefully, as she poured out some tea.

  *

  Less than two hours later, the visitors left, leaving Mrs Flowers’s cakes and scones untouched.

  Three of the men returned to Deniliquin airport, while Lawrence planned to fly on to Bathurst with the other two.

  ‘How did all that go?’ Cindy asked Murray, as they drove back to their house later that day.

  ‘All right, I guess. They were just businessmen. They aren’t interested in life on the land and how hard we have to work to achieve our successes. They’re interested in the quickest way to make money out of wool and are only prepared to invest in projects they think will bring them a fast return.’ He sighed. ‘I suppose it’s true that we’re on the land to make money, too, but somehow they seemed so nakedly mercenary about their motives that it made me feel uncomfortable. And it’s a shame about Mrs Flowers’s morning tea! She went to so much trouble.’

  ‘I know. Never mind, darling,’ said Cindy sympatheti­cally. ‘We probably won’t ever meet them again, unless we run into them when we go down to Sydney in January for the Bicentenary celebrations.’

  That afternoon, Shirley Jackson happened to drop in, no doubt curious about their important visitors.

  Dressed in her tweed skirt and hand-knitted jumper, she was a bit more rotund than when Cindy had first met her, but she remained a kind and reliable neighbour. The photos she had once loved to show Cindy of her children, house and property had now been replaced by a Grandma’s brag book, which she produced at every possible opportunity.

  ‘I’ve got eight grandchildren now, and they’re all ju
st as cute as can be. Have I shown you the latest pictures of little Karen?’ she asked, producing her book right on cue as Cindy offered her a cup of tea. Without waiting for an answer, Shirley whipped out the book and flipped to the end. ‘That’s her in the bath. Hasn’t she got a lovely smile? I think it’s just like her mother’s. I’ve got a new photo of Sean, too. He’s a lovely little chap. No idea where his red hair came from, but it does make him look cheeky, don’t you think?’

  As Cindy waited for the kettle to boil, Shirley prattled on, turning the pages of her little photo album.

  Cindy passed her a piece of cake and a scone. Shirley chewed gratefully, still managing to highlight her grandchildren’s achievements while downing the sweets.

  ‘Mrs Flowers overdid the hospitality. I’ll pack up a few more cakes for you to take home to Percy,’ Cindy explained.

  Shirley wiped her mouth with a napkin. ‘Oh, thanks for that. Perce does like Mrs F’s cakes. So, were these men just visiting, or here on business?’ Shirley asked bluntly. ‘We heard you had shearers and a wool classer here. Perce would have been happy to come and help.’

  ‘It was fine, thanks,’ said Cindy, happy to satisfy Shirley’s curiosity. She explained that the men had come to get a general idea of how a sheep station was run. ‘Really, they had no idea how the wool gets from a sheep to a suit.’

  Shirley clicked her tongue. ‘I’m not surprised. Lot of those types around these days, but that’s good to know,’ said Shirley, sounding relieved. ‘Frankly, we were afraid Mr Parnell might have been selling up!’

  ‘Gosh, no! I couldn’t imagine Lawrence ever selling Kingsley Downs. I think he’d rather cut off his right arm,’ said Cindy emphatically.

  Shirley pursed her lips and reached for another scone. ‘Well, land values are going up. Been a few properties around here that have gone for very good prices, as you know. My Perce says that he thinks it would be a good time to get off the land, if one had a mind to. He reckons that things can’t keep rising like this.’