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Lake Hill

Page 14

by Margareta Osborn


  ‘I’m not what you expected? Yeah, Tess said that. But she also said I already had the job s’long as I passed the trial.’

  Julia’s heart sank. She had said that, damn it. She’d been desperate. ‘Yes, but I didn’t think …’

  ‘I’d look like this,’ finished the girl. ‘Thing is, Julia, you might want to rethink any idea about not giving me that trial.’

  Julia felt a rush of annoyance. ‘Really? Why’s that?’

  ‘Because if you’re Julia Gunn, previously of Horsham and then Armadale, Melbourne?’ The girl raised an eyebrow, seeking confirmation.

  Julia nodded. Why was her tummy suddenly doing weird flip-flops?

  The girl smiled, which made her look surprisingly pretty, and held up a tiny gold bracelet with a name-plate. As it dangled in front of her, Julia could see a tiny bluebird engraved on it.

  ‘Then I’m Chloe. Your long-lost daughter.’

  Chapter 17

  ‘Whose baby is it?’ her father had roared.

  It had taken him a week to get Rick’s name out of her. Beating after beating, her mother pleading with him to stop. Julia had worn turtleneck jumpers and long pants to school for weeks after. Was still wearing them when her parents dragged her to Melbourne one Wednesday to confront Elsbeth Halloran. Her father had read up on the woman whose son had impregnated his daughter and had pretended to be a jeweller selling a necklace that he’d claimed had belonged to Katharine Hepburn. The lie had won him an appointment with Elsbeth, whose passion for collecting anything once owned by iconic Hollywood actresses was well-known.

  When the Gunns were shown into the actress’s penthouse suite, Elsbeth was wearing an elaborate brilliant turquoise caftan with red dragons embroidered around the train. It was an image seared into Julia’s memory.

  ‘Where is the necklace?’ Elsbeth demanded.

  ‘Where is your son?’ bellowed Henry Gunn, before revealing who he was and why they were there.

  ‘How dare you trick your way in here to accuse my son of fathering your slut of a daughter’s child!’ Elsbeth hissed.

  Julia wanted to die. She’d thought about killing herself before the meeting, but knew she couldn’t go through with it. More than that, she couldn’t bear to end the life of her and Rick’s baby. The child was innocent, and that made her determined, no matter what her parents said, to keep it.

  ‘Your son has to face up to his responsibilities!’ Henry Gunn persisted.

  ‘My son is on the other side of the world,’ Elsbeth said coldly, ‘and unlikely to return for years. We deal with this type of thing all the time: girls using him to get some easy cash. And don’t think about making this public, Reverend, or I will drag you through the courts until your reputation is tarnished beyond repair.’

  Julia felt the blood rush to her face. This was unbelievable. Elsbeth Halloran was accusing her of making it all up just to get money out of the family! She waited for her father to retaliate, to defend her, to at least say something more, but it seemed that Henry Gunn valued his reputation more than his daughter. Elsbeth flicked a finger towards the door. ‘Now, if you’ve got nothing more to say, get out of my sight!’ And, his face bright red with indignation, Julia’s father shuffled from the room without further protest, his daughter by his side.

  She had tried to block out the rest of that day. But the memories would come flooding back. The silent drive back to Horsham. The ensuing emotional and physical subjugation – the raised arm, the crop readied to strike. What he’d done to her … them, was unforgivable. The pain, bruising and terror, along with the fact her mother had let it happen.

  She remembered crouching on the floor in her father’s study afterwards, distraught, waiting until she was sure both her parents were asleep, and then creeping out into the night. There was only one place she could think of going.

  Sylvia Murray had taken Julia under her wing when the sixteen-year-old had started on work experience in a local solicitor’s office. Sylvia was the office-manager there, forty-two, unmarried, and desperate for a baby.

  Julia had lived with Sylvia right up until she went into the Horsham Base Hospital to give birth to her baby, a beautiful little girl. When she’d discharged herself forty-eight hours later, she’d made her way back to Sylvia’s house and had left the baby on the doorstep, after tucking the little bluebird bracelet that had once been Julia’s into her capsule. It had broken her heart, but Julia knew that at her age, and with no money and no prospects, she couldn’t offer her baby a good life. She knew Sylvia well by now; she’d confided in her about life at home, and trusted her. She was the sort of woman who was meant to have children. It wasn’t her fault she was too shy to find the right man.

  Over the years, Julia pictured her little girl growing up. She knew she’d have long hair tied in pigtails, and perfectly smocked dresses made by Sylvia, an expert needlewoman. Julia imagined her daughter skipping alongside her happy mother, even though the image always made her cry. She could never clearly see the child’s face. Did she have Julia’s dark hair? Rick’s beautiful full lips? Were her eyes blue or grey? Was she olive or fair skinned? Did she love to wear dresses or did she prefer pants? Did she grow into a sporty outgoing teenager or did she prefer books and music? All questions that could never be answered.

  Until now.

  ‘Hey, you’re not going to faint on me or anything, are you?’ The girl grabbed at Julia as she staggered backwards. ‘I’m not good with medical stuff. Pass out at the sight of blood.’

  She helped Julia into the cafe and onto a chair. Julia shoved her head down between her knees to give herself time to think, but suddenly the girl had pulled her off the chair, pushed her to the ground and was lifting her feet.

  ‘You don’t do that any more,’ the girl said. ‘You gotta do this nowadays. How old are you exactly? By my calculations you must be around thirty-eight?’

  ‘Thirty-seven,’ mumbled Julia. This was her daughter? Oh my God, her daughter!

  ‘Really? Ha ha … cool. My other mother was so old. It was embarrassing.’

  Her other mother.

  ‘Anyway, she died,’ Chloe said dispassionately. ‘Breast cancer, three years ago.’

  The last time Julia had seen either of them was from across the street, when she’d rung from the pay phone to tell Sylvia to check her doorstep. And now poor Sylvia was dead.

  ‘You okay?’ the young voice broke in. ‘I really don’t want to lose you again now I’ve just found you.’

  ‘Would you mind going into the kitchen … Chloe,’ she felt a frisson at saying her name, ‘and switching on the kettle? I think we both need a cup of tea.’

  ‘I hate tea, especially that scented shit. Wouldn’t say no to a cold drink though. It’s a long walk up your drive.’ She went into the kitchen, then called back, ‘You got any cake? I’m hungry and all I can find are these biscuits on the bench.’

  ‘That’s all I’ve got,’ Julia replied, getting up off the floor. She was obviously a fool to think the girl could manage alone.

  But in the kitchen she was surprised to see that Chloe had found some cups, as well as the tea, sugar and milk, and was midway through pouring the boiled water into a teapot.

  The girl indicated the plate of dry biscuits. ‘You really do need a cook, don’t you?’

  Before Julia could answer, she heard footsteps along the verandah, and then the screen door creaked open.

  ‘Chloe,’ she said quickly, ‘perhaps we shouldn’t –’

  Ernie appeared in the kitchen doorway. Today he was wearing a dapper dove-grey suit and bow tie, but still had that dirty green cap on his head.

  ‘Hey,’ said Chloe. ‘Cool hat. Not sure about the tie though. Probably should’ve been red. That would’ve made a statement.’

  Ernie, shocked into speechlessness, clutched at his bow tie.

  Julia sank her head into her hands. This whole situation was going from very bad to downright deplorable.

  But Ernie turned to the window and stared at
his reflection, then said, ‘I do believe you may be right, young lady. Red would have been a standout.’ He stuck out a hand to Chloe saying, ‘I’m Ernie. To whom do I owe the pleasure?’

  ‘Whom do ya what?’ asked Chloe.

  ‘He wants to know who you are,’ said Julia with a sigh, then realising how that might play out opened her mouth again. Too late.

  ‘I’m the new cook,’ Chloe said. ‘I’m also Julia’s –’

  ‘Niece. She’s my niece,’ Julia broke in.

  Ernie seemed surprised. She could see him taking in the tatts and facial piercing.

  Chloe glared at her and Julia quickly picked up her cup and hid her face in it.

  ‘Julia’s niece?’ said Ernie.

  ‘Urrrr … yep,’ replied Chloe. Her tone was grudging. ‘A long-lost one. We’ve only just met.’

  ‘On my husband’s side,’ added Julia, refusing to look at Ernie and silently asking for Rupert’s forgiveness. This girl was so not what she’d imagined her daughter to look like, to be like.

  ‘And a cook, too?’ Ernie said.

  ‘Yep. I haven’t had a lot of experience, but I reckon I can do better than these biscuits here.’

  The girl had bravado. Or cheek. Or both.

  ‘Is that so?’ said Ernie.

  ‘Yes, it’s so. Why do you guys keep asking me all these questions? You got something to say about me, just spit it out.’

  Julia wanted to die. If Chloe’s tie comment hadn’t offended Ernie, this surely would. She sat in silence, not daring to look at either of them.

  ‘Okay, then,’ said Ernie. ‘First, I’d like a cup of tea. And then you can tell me about those tattoos of yours. My son had a few and each one meant something important to him.’

  Ernie had a son? It was the first Julia had heard about it. She waited for Chloe’s response, fully expecting another rude outburst. She was pleasantly surprised.

  ‘Sure. What’s your poison?’

  ‘My what?’ said Ernie.

  ‘What kind of tea do you want? She’s got all sorts of shit in this box.’

  ‘English Breakfast,’ said Ernie.

  ‘Should’ve guessed, shouldn’t I?’

  ‘Probably,’ he said in a droll tone.

  Chloe laughed and, to Julia’s surprise, so did Ernie. She’d never heard him laugh out loud like that before. The day was full of surprises.

  The side door banged as another person stormed into the cafe. Montana.

  ‘My fucking brother can go rotate on a hay rake somewhere! Do you know what he’s done, Julia?’

  Julia only had time to shake her head.

  ‘He went and moved my sheep in the fucking truck! I was going to do it on my horse with my dogs this weekend, and now he’s taken all the fun out of it!’

  Montana was so incensed, even Chloe was struck dumb.

  ‘Oh, gidday, I’m Montana. You must be the new cook. I’ll have a coffee, black, no sugar, thanks.’ She stuck out her hand, shook Chloe’s, and pulled out a chair, which she sat on backwards. ‘Anyway, I know you’re sleeping with him and you think he’s great an’ all, but he’s a total knob-head. I hate him.’

  ‘Now, now, Montana,’ began Ernie.

  ‘That man had no right to touch those sheep, Ernie! They’re mine. He might manage the family property but he sure as hell doesn’t own it, we both do, and I’m getting mighty sick of his high-handedness.’ She paused for a gulp of air, then said in a near-perfect parody of Rick’s voice, ‘Our fences aren’t good enough for sheep. Dogs put too much pressure on the stock. Sit behind a desk and sell real estate, sis; and leave managing the farm and everything else to me.’ She switched back to her own voice again. ‘He won’t let me get involved. He seems to think I’m going to piss off travelling again, or … or I should have babies and be a good little housewife! I’ll give him fucking housewife! He’s a control freak who barely trusts anyone or anything, least of all change.’

  Montana had her brother pegged, Julia thought. Which made it all the more impossible to imagine how she could ever tell him about Chloe.

  ‘Anyway, Julia, I came to discuss the working dog school. Now you’ve got your cook and Ernie here to help, you should be right to go with an event in a couple of weeks, yes?’

  ‘I guess –’

  ‘Great! There’ll be about fifteen people doing the school plus lookers. More than double that in dogs. They’ll arrive on the Saturday morning so we’ll need morning tea, lunch and arvie smoko. We can go to the pub for tea, so don’t worry about that. I’ll haul in Owen to do some bacon and eggs in wraps or something for Sunday brekky, too. Then we’ll need morning tea and lunch again – probably just a barbecue – and finish off with Ernie’s scones, jam and cream. Sound alright? Just the two days should do it, although some of the fellas will probably arrive Friday night and swag it in the paddock. I’ll set up a few marquees just in case it’s raining. The blokes’ll help me with that and perhaps Charlie. That bastard of a brother of mine can go and get rooted. No disrespect intended, by the way.’

  Julia didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded.

  Chloe dumped two more mugs of tea on the table. One for Ernie, one for Montana. She went back for her own, then sat down and stared wide-eyed at Rick’s sister. Oh Lordy, Julia realised, they were really aunt and niece.

  ‘Chloe, would you mind coming and helping me to … um … get your bag?’ she said.

  The girl glanced at Julia, startled. ‘But we’ve just got our drinks, and my bag’s back –’

  ‘Yes, yes, it’s out the back. I don’t want anything to happen to it,’ Julia said, and she hustled Chloe off her chair.

  ‘We won’t be long,’ she said to the other two as she pushed the reluctant girl out the kitchen door. ‘Have a biscuit while we’re gone!’

  Chapter 18

  ‘What are you doing?’ demanded an indignant Chloe once they were standing out on the broad verandah, out of sight and hearing of the others.

  ‘How do I know you’re my daughter?’ said Julia. ‘You’re nothing like I imagined you to be.’

  Chloe stared at her. To her horror, Julia could see tears welling in the girl’s eyes.

  ‘Yeah, well, you’re nothing like I imagined either,’ Chloe finally mumbled, before turning away. She walked across the deck and leaned against the guardrail, looking out over the broad expanse of lake.

  Julia stood where she was. Who was being abominably rude now? This was her daughter, for heaven’s sake.

  ‘Chloe –’

  ‘No. It’s okay, I’ll just go. You don’t want me either.’

  It was the ‘either’ that tore Julia’s heart in two. What did the girl mean? Surely she couldn’t be referring to Sylvia? The older woman had wanted a baby so much.

  ‘I didn’t say that. I’m just trying to process it all, Chloe. It’s a big shock.’

  The girl turned to her and Julia saw tears tracking down her face. Gone was the confident façade; beneath it was a young, unhappy girl.

  ‘I’ve been looking forward to this for so long,’ Chloe said. ‘I can’t understand why you don’t believe me.’

  ‘I do, I do! It’s just … you’re not what I was expecting.’

  The girl moved a few steps closer. ‘So … you were expecting me? Sometime?’

  ‘Well, I knew it could happen, I guess,’ Julia said carefully.

  How to tell the girl that her return was in equal parts Julia’s deepest longing and her greatest fear? And now there was Rick to think about, too. To have to explain why she’d done what she had … How was she to do that? She couldn’t tell him, she just couldn’t – especially now they were rekindling their relationship. He trusted her. He’d never known she was pregnant – she knew Elsbeth would have made sure of that – so how could she explain that after Elsbeth had sent her and her parents packing, she’d had no choice but to give their baby away? He’d never understand that she’d been riddled with guilt every single day for the last two decades. And his mother had hurt
him enough. Julia couldn’t make that wound any deeper.

  ‘Why did you leave me?’ Chloe asked.

  And there it was. The question she’d lived in fear of being asked ever since she left her daughter on Sylvia’s doorstep. Julia turned away. Her heart was racing, stomach churning. Her body was slick with sweat. Guilt and shame competed.

  ‘Julia?’

  And even though she couldn’t bear the thought of causing Chloe more pain, the girl deserved an answer. She needed to explain.

  Julia swung back. ‘I was pregnant at sixteen. I had to leave school, and home. I’d just turned seventeen when I had you. I couldn’t keep you, Chloe. I didn’t have a proper job or anywhere to live.’

  ‘Plenty of girls have kids. They get money from the government, stuff like that.’

  ‘And they usually have the support of their parents, or a partner, or aunts, cousins, whoever. I had nothing. Not a single person.’

  She’d also had a father who’d beaten her and called her a slut and a whore. He’d made her believe that getting pregnant made her the worst person in the whole world. She wasn’t worthy of anything, least of all a beautiful little baby. It had taken Rupert to make her see she was a decent person, which was why she’d strived so hard to make a good life for them both. She wasn’t going to let anyone accuse her of being nothing ever again.

  Chloe took one step closer. ‘So why Sylvia?’

  Julia’s tummy curled with apprehension. ‘She was a good mother to you, wasn’t she?’

  ‘I was fed and had a place to live, yes. But emotionally the woman was as cold as a dead fish.’

  Julia’s blood chilled. No! That wasn’t what was supposed to happen! She wanted terribly to block out the thought that she’d given her precious daughter to a woman who didn’t deserve her, but it kept pushing at her. What had she done?

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she managed.

  ‘You’re sorry?’ Fire spat from her daughter’s blue eyes. ‘You dumped me on the doorstep of a woman, an emotional cripple, who never loved me and you’re sorry?’

 

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