‘I was just thinking about Shangri-La, how it feels surreal down there really. Like it doesn’t actually exist at all.’
He waited while she gathered her thoughts closer.
‘That Kurelu woman…she said Kuji was already dead. Strange really. Maybe her meaning was lost in translation.’
‘Maybe it was her way of explaining the way he is.’
‘I guess so. I’m realising now they’ve been very good to him. Perhaps they’re not afraid of him at all; perhaps they’re actually trying to protect him.’
‘Not all of the Kurelu are trying to kill people, you mean?’
‘Exactly.’
‘I know Philippe likes to say we barely escaped with our lives from savage head-hunters –’
‘And don’t think he won’t be dining out on that story for a few years,’ she predicted.
Marlon smiled wryly. ‘But the truth is we walked into their war ceremonies, their conflict. How do you think it would have been if a Kurelu had walked into one of our wars? I can’t imagine everyone putting down their weapons to let them march on through. In fact, I saw what happened to the villages that got in the way up in the ridges.’
Junie thought about that for a moment. ‘I wonder what it is that drives them to help Michael survive?’
‘Maybe they think they have to look after him because he came from the gods, like a ghost,’ Marlon said, gesturing at the sky.
‘Or maybe they’re just very kind.’ She stared out the window to the clouds below. ‘I feel like I did only see his ghost,’ she said sadly, touching the glass. ‘Like I visited him in some sort of afterlife. It didn’t feel like earth, but then again, it certainly didn’t feel like heaven, just that place in between, like you said to me once. The only place he can belong now, I suppose.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s just such cruel irony to find only pieces of him, not the whole man.’
‘Does it make it easier or harder to let him go? Or are you still holding onto those pieces?’
Junie looked over at Marlon and she saw something in his expression that made her think carefully before answering. ‘I’ll always hold onto pieces of Michael Riley, Marlon. He owns part of my heart and nothing can ever change that. What we shared can’t be erased and – I don’t want it to be. I will love him forever,’ she admitted. ‘Always.’
‘The Michael that was or the Michael that is?’
‘The Michael in here,’ she said, pointing at her heart. ‘I guess it’s hard for you to understand –’
Marlon shook his head. ‘I understand that a lot more than you know.’
Junie was curious but she didn’t pry into whatever pieces of love still clung to Marlon’s heart. They flew on in thoughtful silence, watching the mountains below. She was sad to leave this beautiful place, she realised, despite everything.
‘I’m glad they’ve decided not to drill for oil,’ she said after a while, thinking about the beauty of the valley in the late morning sun, the mists still clinging to the outer rims in ethereal protection.
‘I think Philippe couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Besides, it looked like there wasn’t really that much there.’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘It should stay the way it is.’
‘Sure you haven’t got any Indigenous blood?’ he asked, but there was approval in the jest.
‘Nah, I’m just a wild colonial girl, remember, with some Irish fishing wench thrown in.’
Digger woke up as the plane dipped slightly and she patted him back to sleep, glad he was the only other passenger. The rest of the team had been picked up a day earlier by a charter who’d flown in to deliver some medical equipment, courtesy of a few phone calls Junie had made on her last return. She and Marlon had stayed under the guise of helping out, but in truth it was because Junie wasn’t quite ready to give up on Michael returning. And because she didn’t want to face going home.
‘I have a confession to make,’ Marlon said as she absently twirled the feather she’d had resting in her palm. ‘I overheard you that last night. Talking to Michael.’
Junie flushed. ‘That was a private conversation.’
‘I know, and I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop at first but then I had to know.’
‘Had to know what? My sordid past?’
‘The truth. You’ve been a mystery from day one, and I guess I just had to know why you chose the life you did. Why you still do.’
‘I told you, it’s complicated.’
‘Yes, I heard.’
She felt her temper rising then as she tapped the feather. ‘You know, it’s so easy for a man to judge a woman. We don’t have the same tools you have. We don’t get to bully our way through and get what we want through sheer force.’
‘You have tools. Good ones, as I recall.’
She glanced at him, looking for innuendo. ‘I imagine you are referring to my skills as a lawyer.’
‘Of course.’
‘Ernest would get the best barrister in the country. You don’t know him. He won’t let his child go – or his perfect image as a family man.’
‘But she isn’t his child.’
‘No.’
‘Why haven’t you ever told him?’
‘There didn’t seem much point. Better for Frankie to think she’s legitimate, I suppose.’
‘Better how? So she has to live the life he chooses for her instead of what you would choose? What Michael’s family could share with her? Seems to me it might be the perfect way out – telling him the truth then threatening you’ll tell the press.’
‘I could never do that! I couldn’t make her the subject of gossip or scandal –’
‘Better to be called a bastard than have no family life at all. I think Frankie would choose to see you every day over name calling, if she had the choice. I know I would.’
‘Hah!’ she said derisively. ‘What do you know about it?’
‘Native American, remember? I’ve been called every name in the book but it was worth it a million times over to grow up with my Miwok grandmother.’
Junie heard the truth in his words but was too angry with him to comment.
‘You know what I really think? I think you want to stay lost too.’
There was a pause before she responded. ‘How can you say that?’ she said, deeply hurt.
‘Because you don’t think there’s any other life on offer, maybe? Because it’s safer? Because you’re too scared to take on the power Ernest holds? I don’t know. Maybe because you’re happy to fight for everyone else but not for yourself.’
‘I’ve fought. I fought for an education –’
‘That you don’t use.’
‘I’ve fought for my child –’
‘Who you don’t see.’
She went silent, frustrated to find herself crying.
‘There’s only one thing worth fighting for, Junie, and that’s happiness. That’s what you really want – you told me so yourself.’
‘Nothing can make me happy any more,’ she said, rubbing her cheeks.
‘I’ve called you on it before and I’ll say it again – bullshit,’ Marlon said as the plane began to descend towards the runway. ‘You just keep thinking happiness lies in all the things you can’t have. You can’t have the 1941 version of Michael. I’m sorry to sound so harsh, but you just can’t have him, Junie. He’s gone.’
‘I know that!’
‘Do you?’
Junie paused, wondering if she truly did. ‘It’s just…I used to imagine over and over that he would come back – every day, the same dream – and now that miracle has finally arrived but it’s been distorted.’
‘Maybe it’s time to stop dreaming. Pull that heart of yours into reality, into right now. You can’t have him, but you can have… other things. Don’t tell me what you want that you can’t have, tell me what you want that you can.’
She frowned, confused. ‘Such as?’
‘You’re a smart girl – you tell me.’
He left her to think
as he landed the plane and got out to unload her luggage.
‘Got a list yet?’
‘I – I’m not sure.’
‘Well, if you do figure it out in time, I’m refuelling then I’m off to stretch my wings. It’s a free ticket in one hour, if you want it.’
‘To where?’
‘Wherever this tells you to be,’ he said, pointing at his heart.
‘Your heart?’
‘No, yours, you goose. I already know where mine wants to be – with a damn stubborn woman. Problem is, she won’t settle down in here.’ He tapped his chest again and shrugged. ‘Keeps getting lost.’
Fifty-three
‘About bloody time. I’ve been waiting half an hour.’ Ernest was angry as he flicked his cigarette into the bin and pointed at his chauffeur, William, to take the luggage. ‘Can’t even imagine what kind of explanation you have for such ridiculous behaviour,’ he said in a low voice as he steered her through the airport by the elbow.
‘I had my reasons,’ Junie replied, trying to remain composed.
‘Whatever they were they couldn’t possibly warrant you taking off into the jungle searching for a hermit. The whole of Port Moresby is talking about it, although fortunately it didn’t make the papers. You’re a complete embarrassment.’
‘And what of your ridiculous behaviour? Anyone writing about that yet?’ she returned coolly, although her heartrate was beginning to build.
He paused as William opened the door. ‘Don’t be coarse, Junie.’
‘No, heaven forbid I embarrass you further.’
He sat opposite her and she felt his scrutiny as she looked away, disgusted by the sight of him. ‘Let’s not do this now, all right? Fix yourself up. Eliza’s having some surprise dinner party for you and you can’t go looking like Jungle Jane.’
‘Eliza?’ she said, snapping her gaze back to stare at him.
‘Yes, Eliza.’ Digger jumped into the car and Ernest screwed up his nose. ‘God, he smells like the jungle too. Better give him a bath tomorrow.’
She said nothing, waiting.
The car took off and Ernest tapped at his leg, scowling in the silence before smoothing back his hair in typical fashion. ‘Do you really want this out in the open between us?’
‘Yes.’
He sighed. ‘Fine. Eliza and I have an understanding, all right? You don’t have to be a baby about it. Everyone has affairs; it’s not a big deal.’
‘How long has it been going on?’
‘I don’t see why that matters.’
‘How long?’
‘From before we were married,’ he said dispassionately.
Junie nodded, swallowing that slowly. ‘So she decided to marry a wealthier man but befriended your second-choice wife – just to keep you close, is that it?’
‘Oh for God’s sake! It’s not as if you didn’t enjoy her company and vice versa. I actually think it works rather well – and you do too, if you’d only admit it. Affairs take the bedroom duties away from the wives and we both know you’ll be happy about that.’
‘I see…so does that mean I can have one?’
He gave a short laugh. ‘Who with? The idiot version of Michael Riley? Philippe said he doesn’t even speak, let alone bathe.’ He poured a drink from the console. ‘Not much more than an animal by the sounds of things. Or does the idea of being with Tarzan turn you on?’
Her eyes flickered at the cruel streak that ran inside the man she married.
‘What are you going to do, run off into the jungle when the mood takes you? I don’t think so, Junie.’ He poured her a drink as well then, her first in many days. ‘Come on now, be a grownup. You live in the real world – a civilised world – and it’s not like we don’t have a good arrangement. Your family have their farm and their money, your daughter goes to the finest school…who knows? You may end up in Kirribilli House.’
Junie placed her untouched drink back in the holder and took her compact from her handbag, applying her lipstick as her rabbit began to run.
‘I’m even happy for you to practise law, if that’s what you want. You can’t say I’ve been unreasonable to you, Junie – most men I know wouldn’t allow their wives an education, let alone a career.’ He nodded at her hair as they neared their house. ‘Better fix that too.’
Junie closed the compact as the rabbit paused. ‘Tell me, Ernest, have you heard of the Magna Carta?’
‘Of course,’ he said, distractedly, looking down the drive. ‘Even a first-year law student is familiar with that.’
‘Refresh my memory, would you?’ she asked as they drove towards their friends, who were waving from the front porch, Eliza holding balloons and champagne. ‘Or have you forgotten what it means yourself?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. It means every man, even the king, is bound by common law,’ he said in a bored voice as they slowed down.
‘Quite like our current constitution really, only with one small amendment,’ she said, closing her purse.
‘That being?’ The car stopped and an excited Eliza blew Junie a kiss.
‘In Australia, the law protects the just, whether that be a man or a woman,’ she stated as he got out and waited for her, impatience etched on his face. ‘I want a divorce, Ernest. See you in court.’
Junie closed the door and tapped on the chauffeur’s window.
‘Where to, Mrs Farthington?’ William responded.
And, as she named her destination, she had the satisfaction of seeing every snobby face on that porch watch her leave.
Then Eliza’s gloves lost their grip and the balloons slipped away, far above them all.
Junie stood at the water’s edge, barefoot and scrunching her toes into the sand, as she contemplated Marlon’s words. She’d spent so long wishing for what she couldn’t have that the very idea of wanting something she could have felt peculiar.
The sea air picked up her hair and she revelled in the feel of it, realising how much she’d missed the great southern lady since she’d been in New Guinea. She regretted that she hadn’t thought to visit more often as the water eddied about her ankles.
Tell me what I really want, she begged as the waves rolled lazily towards her. I’m as lost as ever.
You’re a smart girl. You tell me, Marlon’s words echoed.
Maybe it would be easier to think of what she didn’t want.
Pain.
The image of Michael the last moment she’d seen him, staring into space, trapped somewhere she couldn’t go, appeared in her mind. I don’t want to torture myself, or him, any more. I don’t want either of us to suffer.
She supposed that was a pretty good start. What else?
I don’t want to live in the past.
Did that mean she’d finally let him go?
Never the love, but…yes. I’m letting go of wanting to be with him as he is now. Even if I could find him again, he can’t love me like he did, and I can’t watch him sit in a cage in his mind, unable to do so.
Junie blinked against the glitter of sun on water. The grief was still there but she was slightly amazed at that new truth too. So what now?
I don’t want to be married to Ernest any more, at least I’ve decided that. But I don’t want to be lonely now that I’ve left his world and Eliza behind.
The water lapped at her feet and she started to feel some kind of purpose evolve as she faced the original question once more. What did she want?
I do want to go home. I do want to raise my daughter. I do want my family and friends back in my everyday life.
Something was bubbling now that felt oddly like excitement.
I do want Michael’s family to know Frankie is his child. I do want them to help me raise her.
Now she was almost smiling. The sound of a plane droned in the distance and another thing she wanted exploded.
Junie took off at a run, back to the car, yelling to William to start the engine. Yes, she definitely wanted something else she could actually have. She just hoped she wasn’t
too late.
‘Any room for Dorothy and Toto?’
Marlon turned from checking the engine and a flash of black fur ran past as Digger jumped into the back seat, wagging his tail expectantly. Then he grinned that long, slow grin of his and she hoped he wouldn’t wipe that grease smudge off his cheek as he cleaned his hands on the towel.
‘You’re three minutes late, Mrs Farthington,’ he said, checking his watch.
‘Wallace,’ she informed him. ‘The name is Junie Wallace.’ Because she wasn’t Junie Farthington at all, she never really had been, and from this day forward she would be true to that girl from Braidwood; true to following her own common law. No longer lost, not any more.
They climbed on board and he turned to her, their faces close.
‘Ready to fly, monkey?’
‘Yes,’ she said smiling slowly. ‘I finally am.’
He kissed her then, and it was neither hesitant nor questioning; it was one of those kisses that intoxicated with its mixture of craving and love. She felt the sheer thrill of him opening up to her with all the passion and possibilities that entailed as he held her close, the places where their skin touched suffusing in a sudden, wonderful warmth. There was no pulling back to slap him this time, no turning away with guilt. She placed a hand on his grease-smeared face instead, allowing herself to love again at last with this man, the one who had shown her where to start – and that place was right here and now, with him.
‘Where to, Miss Wallace?’ he said, catching her hand and kissing it.
‘There’s no place like home.’
‘Figured out what really matters, did you?’
‘It’s actually a very short list.’
And with that the plane took to the skies, heading south to the land that held the rest of the people she loved, the people who were capable of love in return, and she figured that happiness was something you could not only find but hold on to – if you chose what you could actually have.
And what you wanted the most.
Her rabbit lay down, resting at last, and she looked out to where the great southern lady shone in the afternoon light, leading her home.
It had taken a while, but she’d found Shangri-La in the end.
Worth Fighting For Page 36
