A Distant Journey

by Di Morrissey

  Murray smiled broadly. ‘Just amazing. Cindy and I were just saying we still feel as young as ever. You too, Dad. You’re damned fit for your age.’

  Lawrence began pouring the port. ‘Age is immaterial. It’s what you do with your time that counts. Are we likely to see Sally anytime soon?’

  ‘She and Ashley are coming home for the long weekend, so you’ll see her then. Russell is coming home for a few days, too.’

  ‘And Gordon?’

  ‘He says not,’ said Cindy firmly, before Lawrence could mutter about him leaving the new station. ‘He’s been very conscientious about looking after Mirooball.’

  ‘Cold place, Bathurst. Snows in winter. Might need coats for the sheep,’ said Lawrence calmly. ‘And boots.’

  ‘Coats and boots?’ said Cindy incredulously.

  Murray laughed. ‘It’s been a bit of a fad in some areas to stick blue plasticised fabric on the sheep to keep the fleeces cleaner.’

  The men chatted a bit longer about business and wool matters. Cindy listened out of politeness and sipped her port. Expensive it might be, but she found it rather sickly. She glanced around the room, which hadn’t changed since the day she’d first arrived at Kingsley Downs as a bride. She thought fleetingly of Rose, the forgotten person in the celebrations.

  Murray drained his glass. ‘Well, we’d better get back, Dad. We just wanted to share the good news with you right away.’

  They all got to their feet and Lawrence shook Murray’s hand.

  ‘Kind of you, son. Congratulations all round. I hope things progress well. I’ll have to have a think about some appropriate gift when the time comes. Good night, Cynthia.’

  *

  As the weeks passed, everyone slipped back into their usual routines.

  Cindy kept in regular touch with Sally, asking about her progress, monitoring every checkup and twinge and offering suggestions for morning sickness, although her daughter had none, as well as ideas for decorating the nursery.

  Finally Murray suggested that Cindy should drive down to Melbourne and spend some time with her daughter. The trip meant a lot to Cindy. She’d never forget the moment when her daughter reached for her mother’s hand and placed it on her belly. Cindy could feel the fluttering movements of her first grandchild. It was the most joyous of moments.

  ‘Would you rather a boy or a girl?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t care, Mum,’ said Sally. ‘I just want to have a healthy, happy baby. What comes, comes. Ash will be with me at the birth. I’m doing the Lamaze technique, so he can help me with the breathing while I’m in labour and keep me comfortable. I want to have as natural a birth as possible. And hopefully I’ll be able to breastfeed for a year.’

  Cindy shook her head in wonder. ‘It’s all very different from what your Dad and I went through. Your father wasn’t allowed anywhere near me when I was giving birth. He wasn’t even allowed to hold you until I left hospital.’

  ‘That’s barbaric,’ exclaimed Sally. ‘Especially after you miscarried in that bushfire.’

  Cindy bit her lip. ‘I sometimes still think of that little soul and it comforts me to feel that its spirit is still here at Kingsley Downs, with tokens of its birth still resting under the peppercorn tree in Adsila’s bowl.’ Cindy leaned over and kissed her daughter. ‘But, darling, have no fear, you’ll have a healthy, happy baby, I know it.’

  Sally had decided to decorate the nursery in a circus theme and the two women spent days shopping for baby items. Even after Cindy returned home, there were frequent phone calls and long discussions over what type of stroller, carry basket, cot and bath should be bought.

  Murray was amused by it all.

  ‘Cin, if you ask me, the way you’re going on about this baby, you’ll end up like Shirley Jackson. Are you going to have a Grandma’s brag book as well?’ he asked one evening over dinner.

  Cindy laughed. ‘Probably, although I promise I won’t stop and show it to everyone I meet in the street,’ she said. ‘But I’m not as excited as Sally is. She rang me this morning while you were out checking the fences in the north paddock and asked if I could look around and find that lucky charm she wore when she was a little girl.’

  ‘That gold teddy bear you bought for her one Christmas?’

  ‘That’s it. She bought a teddy for the nursery and that’s when she thought of it. She wants to have her lucky charm for her baby.’

  ‘Sentimental, isn’t she? You’ve already sent down her stuffed toys and dolls,’ Murray said with a grin.

  ‘The trouble is that I can’t find the charm anywhere. I’ve looked all through our house and it’s nowhere to be found, and you know what, I’m not sure that I’ve seen it for years. I think it must have been left behind when we moved out of your father’s house. I’ll have to go over there and go through the drawers in Sally’s old room. I’d better tell your father I’m coming to rummage around.’

  Murray put his knife and fork down as he finished his meal. ‘Dad’s not around. He’s taken off again. Literally. I think he’s getting a bit old for flying these days, but he won’t listen to me, of course. Mrs Flowers is there, you can get her to help. But it’ll be a bit like looking for a needle in a haystack, if you ask me.’

  The next day, Murray and Cindy drove over to the big house. ‘No point in taking two cars. I’ll only be about half an hour, so I can collect you on the way back,’ Murray said. ‘I won’t come in, but say hi to Mrs F

  for me.’

  Cindy walked through the front garden, where everything was unchanged, although the roses needed pruning. She went through the front door, calling out to Mrs Flowers, who came bustling down the hallway.

  ‘Hi, Mrs F. I’m on a mission for Sally.’ Cindy explained about the gold bear.

  ‘Oh yes, I remember that little bear,’ replied Mrs Flowers. ‘Tom was planning on driving me into Yamboola. I need to pick up a few things. But if you want me to stay and help, I don’t mind. Tom can drive me later,’

  Mrs Flowers replied.

  ‘Not at all.’ Cindy felt a rush of affection for the warm-hearted housekeeper. ‘You do what you planned. I’ll be fine. I probably won’t find it, anyway.’

  The back door banged as Mrs Flowers left, and Cindy went down the dim hallway. How dark this house was. She opened the door to Sally’s old room. It was funny, she thought, that they still all called it Sally’s room even though her daughter had vacated it when she was nearly eight when they’d moved to their new house. Originally, according to Mrs Flowers, Rose had used it as a day room to sew and a place to take a quiet rest.

  Cindy opened the empty wardrobe, which had once held all the pretty dresses that Babs had lovingly made for Sally. Cindy looked at the empty shelves where Sally had stored her old schoolbooks and workbooks. There was nothing there now.

  She closed the wardrobe and went into the small, very old-fashioned ensuite. The washbasin on the sink had drawers on either side. Cindy pulled them open one by one. In one, Cindy was astonished to find an old plastic comb, a little mirror and plastic jewellery for Sally’s dolls. In another drawer was a Mason Pearson child’s hairbrush, and some little ornaments.

  Heavens, Cindy thought. Fancy leaving all this here. They must have forgotten it when they’d moved, she concluded. Sally hadn’t been all that keen on dolls and that sort of thing, so she probably hadn’t noticed or cared that the items were missing.

  Cindy kept opening the drawers, but found nothing until she reached one of the bottom drawers. In it, there were a few little boxes containing things that must have once been precious to Sally: shells, stones, dried flowers. Cindy rummaged around and then she saw a little round pill box she recognised. She opened it and inside was tucked a tiny, fat gold teddy bear pendant with a loop at the back of its neck that had once held a chain.

  ‘Hello, lucky Teddy! You’re being called back into service.’ Pleased with wha
t she’d found, Cindy put the little box in her jeans pocket and tried to push the drawer shut with her foot, but it wouldn’t close. She gave it a gentle shove.

  Now, why won’t the drawer close? she wondered. She jiggled it and pushed it again, and then realised that something had fallen down behind it, preventing it from closing. She yanked the drawer out altogether, so that she could find whatever it was that was causing the problem. Reaching through to the back and up behind the other drawers, Cindy felt something and dragged it out.

  It was a small wallet. Where on earth did Sally find this? she thought. Cindy had never seen it before. Curious, she opened the little purse.

  The first thing she saw was a card with the name Mrs Rose Parnell printed on it. There was also something that she quickly guessed was a petrol ration card, as well as a driver’s licence, a few pound notes and a chequebook with Rose’s name printed on it. There was also a tiny address book.

  Cindy started to tremble with excitement as she realised that this was Rose’s wallet, which had obviously slipped down behind the drawers and been resting there, undisturbed, all these years.

  She held the old red leather wallet to her cheek.

  ‘Oh my,’ she breathed. Her fingers shook slightly as she began to flip through the address book, looking at the entries written in Rose’s neat cursive writing.

  Before she could examine it further, she heard Murray outside, blowing the car horn, so she hurried out, waving the wallet. ‘You’ll never guess what I found!’ Cindy ran to the car and scrambled into the front seat.

  ‘So you found it then!’

  ‘The teddy? Yes. But look … your mother’s wallet!’

  Murray blanched and bit his lip as he took the purse from Cindy. ‘You found this? That’s amazing, after all these years. I think I remember it.’ He opened the purse and took out the chequebook and looked at it intently, as though it might supply him with answers.

  ‘And Murray, I found your mother’s address book, too,’ said Cindy, excitedly holding up the little book. ‘Maybe there might be someone listed in the book who is still around and might know where your mother went.’

  ‘Have you had a chance to look inside it?’ he asked.

  ‘Not really. You turned up before I could have a proper look.’ She opened it and started reading out names. ‘Any of these ring a bell?’

  Murray shook his head.

  ‘Ooh look, here’s Marie’s name and address. Isn’t this exciting?’

  ‘Yes, I guess it is. But I don’t know any of the other names. I could ask my father if he knew who they were, but I’m not sure I really want to have another confrontation with him over my mother.’ Murray sounded bitter. ‘Cindy, the reality is that my mother left here more than forty years ago. How could we ever track down the people in this address book after all that time? I don’t think it would be feasible.’

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ said Cindy with a sigh. She thought for a moment, and then said brightly, ‘But Murray, the police have much better resources these days. I mean, they have computers and that sort of thing. I think we should take the wallet with the address book in it and hand it over to them, let them have a go at finding the people whose names she’s written down. There aren’t very many, so it won’t be a big ask. Murray, this is the first clue we’ve found that might lead us to your mother. I think we should definitely give it to the police.’

  Murray thought for a minute, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘The missing persons file was never closed, as far as I know,’ he mused. ‘Yes, I think you’re right, let’s take it to the police. How about we drive into Deniliquin now and see what the cops have to say?’

  Cindy nodded her agreement, and Murray turned the car around and headed towards Deniliquin.

  In the police station they were treated politely, but the detective they spoke to didn’t seem very optimistic about getting any results from the address book, pointing out all the difficulties entailed in reviewing a case that was more than forty years old. However, he kept everything and promised to do his best to track down the people whom Rose had listed in the address book. He added that he’d also check missing persons records. He laboriously wrote a receipt, listing all the contents.

  Murray and Cindy drove back home. Their conversation swung between optimism and apprehension until in the end they stopped speaking, each becoming engrossed in their own thoughts, one remembering, one trying to imagine.

  *

  As soon as she arrived back home, Cindy phoned Sally to say that she’d found the little bear. She mentioned finding Rose’s purse, but Sally didn’t seem particularly interested. ‘Let’s see what the police say first, Mum. No point in getting excited till then.’ So Cindy phoned Joanna to tell her what had happened, hoping that her friend would think the discovery as thrilling as she did.

  ‘Can you believe it! Just finding the wallet like that. And with the address book in it. I wonder how many people in it are still living at the same address or are even alive, let alone able to tell us where Rose went? The police have said that they’ll do their best to find out, so we’ve left everything at the police station. Not that they sounded very confident. Still, you never know,’ Cindy told her friend.

  ‘That’s amazing. How does Murray feel about it?’

  ‘We’re both quite excited … It’s a tangible clue that might lead us to Rose. Of course, after all this time, the whole thing might come to nothing, but one can hope. So many unanswered questions.’

  Joanna was quiet a moment. ‘Cindy, you’re right, this is exciting, I guess,’ she said finally. ‘It’s amazing that you found the purse at all.’

  ‘I know. If I hadn’t been looking for Sally’s charm, it could have stayed there forever. It was just luck,’ said Cindy.

  ‘Cin!’ Joanna’s voice rose in exasperation. ‘That’s not what I meant. Think … What woman runs away from home and leaves behind her personal effects? Her wallet, of all things! With money, her driver’s licence, her chequebook, her petrol ration card in it. Why would she do that? It’s just too strange.’

  Cindy was silent a moment, struggling to think of an answer. She heard a loud buzzer go off at Jo’s end of the line.

  ‘Cin, I’ve got to go. My cake’s ready and Donald’s family is due over here any moment,’ said Jo hurriedly. ‘Let’s catch up soon.’ And with that, she rang off.

  Cindy slowly hung up the phone.

  But deep inside, she felt a seed of doubt bloom. It was indeed very strange.

  11

  Cindy dropped the book she was reading, sensing movement in the quiet scene she could see from her chair in the Sundowner Room. There were only a few weeks until Christmas when all the family would be home to celebrate. She loved the holiday time, especially sharing it now with her eighteen-month-old granddaughter, Emily. Cindy smiled as she thought about the toddler, running around the house after Murray, squealing with delight, the centre of the family’s attention.

  Kingsley Downs had never looked so good. Fat ewes foraged in fresh green pasture after the recent rain. The creek was flowing strongly and there was not a breath of wind to ripple its surface. Breaking the stillness were two distant figures walking along the fence line, engaged in animated conversation.

  Lawrence was gesticulating, while Murray had his hands clasped behind his back. Cindy had the impression of a king touring his domain while the prince in waiting was obediently attentive.

  It had been a good season. Hercules Two had earned his high price, and Kingsley Downs had produced its highest-ever wool clips, but Murray worried these extra­ordinary times could not last and that Kingsley Downs would not be able to repay the debts they’d run up in expanding the operation. Lawrence, however, had dismissed his son’s concerns.

  *

  That evening, after they had finished dinner, Murray shared his fears with Cindy.

  ‘I’ve alwa
ys trusted Dad’s judgement, but I’m not sure that Mirooball was such a smart buy. Maybe over the long term. Gordon has done an amazing job, but at present the returns from Mirooball aren’t great,’ said Murray.

  ‘Won’t it come good?’ Cindy asked.

  ‘I’m not sure we have time to wait and see. I question the tactics of the Wool Corp. The board keeps raising the price of the wool clip, they say as a show of confidence, but no one is buying at those prices. At the same time, they’re raising the wool levy on the woolgrowers to cover the Wool Corp’s costs, which means that the price of running this place is also rising. And all these loans Dad has taken out could be crippling us because the Australian dollar has dropped. So those Swiss francs loans are now damned expensive to pay back, as the interest rate is much higher and our income is less,’ grumbled Murray. ‘I can’t see how it can go on.’

  Cindy nodded worriedly. ‘Jo said Donald was questioning what the Wool Board is doing – that the board is too high-handed – and he’s not the only one thinking that way. Maybe you and Donald should call a meeting of the local woolgrowers so people can voice their concerns.’

  ‘Dad won’t like that.’ Murray pinched the bridge of his nose.

  ‘I’m sure he won’t, but perhaps if some pressure is put on the Wool Corp the board might reconsider its approach. Something should be done.’

  Murray sighed and looked up at his wife. ‘Maybe you’re right. People need to be able to say what they think, though I doubt the Wool Corp will listen. I’ll ring Donald and see what he says.’

  *

  Over the next few days, Cindy, Murray, Jo and Donald began to ring around the district and sound out other graziers, and found that most shared their anxieties. They also spoke to the local newspaper and radio station, and both agreed to send a representative along to any meeting that was arranged.

  One young reporter got back to Cindy and said he’d do some digging to see what facts and figures he could find about the state of the wool trade and bring them along, too.