Crimson Dawn

by Fleur McDonald

  Laura motioned for Poppy to get off the chair and took her spot. She stared intently at the screen as the others slipped quietly out of the room.

  ‘Hello?’ The voice was low and husky.

  Laura found she was stuck for words. ‘Ah . . .’

  ‘How can I help? Would you like some positiveness in your day?’ the woman prompted. ‘Are you sad or fearful? I can help relax you with wonderful words.’

  ‘Lee? It’s, um, your daughter. Laura.’

  There was dead silence and, for a moment, Laura wondered whether the call had been disconnected. Suddenly a video box appeared in the bottom corner of the screen. It showed a woman with a headscarf around her head and beautiful, glowing skin. A cat was sitting on a desk to the woman’s right; to her left could be seen the soft light of a candle.

  ‘Can you turn on your video, so I can see you?’ Lee asked.

  Laura fumbled with the mouse and finally managed to click on the camera icon.

  They stared at each other but didn’t speak.

  Lee reached out. Her fingers bumped the screen and it wobbled. ‘How did you find me?’ she asked.

  ‘Dad found you.’

  ‘You’re beautiful. Everything I imagined you’d be.’

  Laura felt self-conscious. ‘Thank you. You’re nothing like I imagined.’ She tried to smile to soften her words.

  ‘How did you imagine me?’

  ‘I don’t know, really. I never really thought about you much until recently, and even then I didn’t have a picture in my mind. You were a sort of shadowy figure from my dreams that I couldn’t pinpoint.’

  ‘Now you know.’ Lee leaned back in her chair. The cat jumped onto her lap and Laura fought the urge to reach out and try to pat it. ‘I’ve wanted to get in touch with you, Laura. But I didn’t know how you’d receive me. I did a pretty terrible thing when I left you with your father. What sort of mother leaves her child?’ She ran her hand over her face. ‘I’ve wanted to apologise, to explain, but something always held me back. And now here you are. Tell me about you. What do you do? Where are you?’

  Laura felt the sting of tears and she tried to smile. ‘I had a wonderful childhood. Dad was brilliant and so was Papa. I don’t regret anything about my upbringing, so please don’t worry.’ She went on to tell Lee about her life and Nambina. The school she ran, and Tim. She was surprised at how comfortable she was with this woman. How easily the words flowed.

  ‘What about you?’ Laura asked finally.

  ‘Not much to tell, really. I live in a caravan. I walk on the beach every day and spend hours looking for quotes on the internet. I’ve had breast cancer, you see. I’m in remission now, but I know the reason I survived was through positive thinking. There are so many sad people out there and if I give them something encouraging to hang on to, I’ve done a good thing. I help someone who needs it and, in a way, I help myself.’ She smiled. ‘I get many, many calls a day, often the same people ringing back. I love having the contact and making a difference, but very much at arm’s length. I’m a solitary creature. I like my own company. Except for you, Bonkers.’ She scratched the cat’s ears.

  ‘Lee, I actually got in contact for a reason. I’m wondering if you can help me.’

  Lee looked back at the screen. ‘I can try.’

  Laura held up the print of the photo. ‘Do you know any of these people?’

  Lee looked through the video camera and frowned. ‘None of them have rated a mention in maybe thirty years. Why do you want to know?’

  ‘My neighbour, Meghan, is Glenda’s daughter and they’ve put in a legal claim on Nambina. They want to take it away from me. They’re saying they’re related to us.’

  Lee didn’t say anything.

  ‘Who are these people?’

  ‘Look, Laura. I need to think about this, okay? I’ve loved talking to you, catching up on your life. But this is opening up a whole other can of worms for me. Things I’ve made myself forget. That I never wanted to remember. I’m going to need a bit of time before I talk to you about this.’ There were tears in her eyes.

  For a second Laura felt terrible. ‘I’m so sorry, Lee. I didn’t think about how it may affect you. All I could think of was how it was affecting me and that I needed an answer.’

  Once the words were out, her frustration returned. This woman held the answers. Lee could dash Laura’s hopes and break her dreams, or she could stop what was happening. Why couldn’t Lee answer her questions now? She tried to pull herself together, then heard Lee say something.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I’ll Skype you back.’

  ‘Soon?’

  ‘Soon,’ Lee confirmed. ‘Give me a week to get myself together so I can talk to you about this.’

  ‘Well . . .’ Laura broke off. What a whirlwind the last couple of hours had been. Another couple of hours or days wouldn’t hurt, she told herself. But there’s not much time, another little voice reminded her.

  ‘So it’s goodbye for now, but not for long.’ Lee wasn’t going to change her mind. She tried to smile but Laura could see the photo had shaken her deeply. ‘Remember me to your father. He’s a good man.’ With that, Lee disappeared from the screen.

  Laura tried to think, tried to make sense of what had just happened. But it was so monumental she was overwhelmed. She needed space and air. And a bloody big paddock.

  She got up from the desk and went out into the kitchen where everyone was waiting for her. Nobody said anything; they just looked at her expectantly.

  ‘She’s going to ring back in a week,’ Laura said with no emotion. ‘We just have to wait.’

  The atmosphere in the room relaxed a little.

  ‘How,’ Sean cleared his throat. ‘How was she?’

  Laura looked at him for a moment. ‘She’s had breast cancer. That’s why she’s doing this positive thinking thing.’

  ‘Sounds exactly like something she’d do.’

  ‘She said to be remembered to you.’

  Sean nodded and looked over at Georgie. He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers.

  ‘I’m going for a drive,’ she said.

  ‘Want company?’ Tim asked.

  She smiled. ‘If you like.’

  Once she was out in the paddock, Laura felt like she could breathe again. But with so much information to take in, so much emotion and so much shit being dragged up, her head was spinning. The letter had arrived only a week ago, and yet so much had changed, especially her! She was questioning who she was and why she was here.

  Tim stopped the ute under their favourite tree and they got out. Rip bounded ahead of them. He stopped and peered into the grass before barking.

  ‘No, Rip!’ Tim shouted urgently.

  Rip came running back and Tim went over to where he’d been sniffing the ground.

  ‘Sleepy lizard,’ he called, sounding relieved.

  Laura crinkled her brow. ‘What did you think it was?’

  ‘Could have been a snake. There have been five bites since my locum has been at the practice,’ he answered.

  Laura felt a shiver of anxiety. ‘I didn’t even think.’

  ‘I don’t think we need a sick dog on our plate as well.’ Tim smiled lopsidedly at her.

  ‘No bloody way.’ She stretched and Rip tried to put his paws on her chest, but he was still too small to reach. They landed on her stomach instead, and Laura staggered slightly. She let herself fall into the dry grass.

  Rip bounced on her and tried to lick her face.

  ‘Get off,’ she said, pushing him away playfully.

  Rip quickly found another scent and followed it for a little way. A fly buzzing past his ear distracted him and he snapped at it before flopping in the grass. They watched as he rolled onto his back and scratched it by wiggling from side to side.

  ‘Oh, to have your worries, Rip,’ Tim said, sitting down next to Laura and putting his hand on her stomach. Laura covered it with hers and he leant forward to kiss her. ‘You know,’ he said. ‘I t
hink I love you.’

  Laura arched her eyebrows. ‘Think?’ she said, a sudden happiness flooding through her.

  ‘Know, actually.’ He kissed her again, slower this time. Then he gently lay next to her and peppered light kisses down her neck. Laura closed her eyes, concentrating on nothing but how good it felt.

  They both started as a cold nose sniffed one face and then the other.

  Tim groaned. ‘Good interruption, Rip. You’re worse than a kid!’

  Despite everything, Laura laughed. ‘Mustn’t do anything rude in front of the children,’ she said.

  ‘I could tie him up.’ Tim looked at her hopefully.

  ‘Nah, I’ve got some things I need to tell you first.’

  ‘Sounds interesting.’ He sat up and looked at her.

  ‘Thank you for being here throughout all of this. It’s crazy what’s going on.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be anywhere else,’ Tim said. ‘I mean that. I love you, Laura, and I want to be here for you.’

  ‘I love you too.’ She took a breath. ‘And because I do, I need to tell you what happened between Josh and me ten years ago.’

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t need to know, Laura. It was so long ago and I don’t care.’

  ‘Maybe not, but I think I know why Meghan is doing this. Just let me tell you, okay?’

  ‘Only if you think you need to.’

  She took a deep breath and recounted the story of the day Howie had handed over Nambina to her, and how, only days earlier, she’d found out she was pregnant and had still been reeling from the news. How she’d tried to tell Josh, but every time she opened her mouth, something stopped her. She spoke of Meghan’s diagnosis and the way Josh had acted so jealously in the park. With halting words, she told him how she’d been hit by the ewe and the incident at the hospital.

  Laura watched as Tim’s eyes widened in disgust. ‘She spat on you?’

  ‘Well, on the floor, as she was leaving.’

  ‘What the hell? That’s a bit over-the-top, wouldn’t you say?’

  Laura shook her head. ‘Probably not for her. She’d just been told she couldn’t have kids and she honestly thought I’d just killed one on purpose.’

  Laura felt the sun hot on her back. Tim was looking down at the ground.

  ‘So that’s it. Meghan assumed I’d had an abortion, either because it was another man’s baby or because I was career orientated. And she managed to convince Josh of the same thing. Papa did eventually clear it up with them but, as far as I was concerned, the damage had been done. I don’t remember a lot about the hospital, but Papa told me later the doctor said that, because the baby hadn’t actually miscarried, it was unlikely it’d come out by itself. That’s why they did a D and C. They had to clean the uterus properly.’

  Tim reached for her hand.

  ‘Hang on,’ she said. ‘I haven’t finished yet. It’s about Josh. He’s jealous, you know?’

  ‘Of what? Us? We’ve only just got it together.’

  ‘We know that, but he doesn’t. His first contact with me in eight years was on the night of the Baggy and Saggy ball. It’s the only thing I can think of to explain his strange behaviour.’

  ‘Why, what’s he been doing?’ Tim asked, straightening up, his face tight.

  ‘He keeps coming around. Saying he wants to talk, to work things out. In eight years he never once tried to do that, so it’s a bit of a joke he’s saying that all of a sudden. But it’s only been since he saw me with you.’

  ‘He’d better not visit while I’m here.’ Tim’s voice rumbled deep in his throat. ‘He might get a bit more than he bargained for!’

  Laura laughed, and it felt good.

  Tim took her hand and squeezed it. ‘I love you,’ he said again.

  Chapter 39

  1952

  The previous year, Thomas had bought a flatbed truck to cart bales of wool to Adelaide for sale at the wool store. He also used it to pick up all the farming and food supplies from town. Today he was driving the loud, rattling vehicle to Adelaide.

  When he first bought the Dodge, he’d been pleased with how high above the ground he was when he sat behind the wheel, and how much of the neighbours’ property he could survey as he drove past. The dashboard was modern and he could see how fast he was travelling and the temperature of the engine. It even had a radio. The speaker was attached to the roof behind his ear, so he could hear it clearly above the noise of the engine. But it was the bench seat that had been the deciding factor. So far it had proved hard on his bum during long trips, but it made a firm bed and he liked that. The women he had been with in the Dodge couldn’t get away from him.

  Now he swung the truck into the main street and continued on his way to the Adelaide Show. He was pleased he’d agreed to judge such a prestigious event. Thomas knew he’d be well received and looked after, for the invitation had come from the head steward himself, and he’d seen how Mac had been treated when he judged. Thomas remembered John Banks fondly. After all, it had been John’s good memory that had resulted in Thomas finding his grandparents. And from there, everything had fallen into place, just like dominos. The money and land he had today had come directly from that happy coincidence. Yes, Thomas decided, John would be happy with what had transpired since he’d seen him last.

  He thought, then, of the hours before he left home. He’d gone without so much as a word to Elsa but, in a rare show of affection, he’d hugged the girls and promised them a present on his return. They’d jumped gleefully all over him. As he climbed up into the truck and the girls had waved, Elsa had stood at the door, her face frozen. He knew why he felt so little for them; never once had he wished he could change that.

  Three hours later he turned his truck onto Greenhill Road and drove towards the showgrounds. Howard crossed his mind. Did he ever attend the show? Was there a chance he might see him today? Thomas decided he didn’t care. Howard very rarely came to mind these days. The visit to Nambina had freed Thomas from the torment of caring for his little brother.

  He parked on the edge of the showgrounds and made his way to the merino pavilion. At the door, he stopped and tried to control his breathing, which had become heavy. His heart raced and he craved a drink. ‘Too many memories,’ he muttered, entering the shed anyway.

  The familiar smell of sheep and wool hit him. His anxiety level rose, but he forced himself onwards. He hadn’t expected to react this way. Just another sign of weakness, he thought.

  ‘Can I help you?’ A man with a white coat and clipboard appeared and looked him over. Thomas opened his mouth to answer but, quickly giving himself the once-over, he realised with horror that his clothes were shabby, his boots grubby. Mac would be horrified if he could see him now, in more ways than one.

  ‘Clothes maketh the man,’ Thomas muttered to himself. He squared his shoulders and looked up. ‘I’m Thomas Murphy.’ He held out his hand to the man, who shook it gingerly.

  ‘How can I help you?’ the man asked.

  Thomas was tongue-tied. This wasn’t how it had been with Mac. Everyone had known him. Respected him.

  ‘I’m here to, um, judge the wool. The fleeces.’ He stumbled on the words, and he felt his face redden. He looked around and fidgeted.

  The man consulted his clipboard again.

  ‘Right. I see. You’re not required yet. Not until two this afternoon. Could you come back at the allocated time, please?’

  Thomas looked around, hoping to spot John Banks.

  ‘Is John Banks here? He’s an old friend, and I’d like to see him.’

  The man’s face changed. ‘I’m sorry. You obviously haven’t heard. He passed away last week. In his sleep.’

  Thomas felt as though he’d been punched. The last link with his old life. Gone. Snuffed out.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Uh, yes. Fine,’ Thomas stuttered. ‘I hadn’t heard. I’m sorry.’

  ‘He was a ripe old age, so I’m told. He obviously had a good innings. I’m taking his place
.’

  Thomas wanted to hit the man. It was so easy to hand out off-the-cuff sympathy when you didn’t know the person who’d died. He eyed the steward, frustrated.

  ‘I see,’ was all he could manage.

  ‘Good. Well, I have things to organise. As I said, we’d appreciate it if you would come back at your allotted judging time. It makes the shed too crowded if people come early.’ He nodded to Thomas and walked away.

  Glancing at his watch, Thomas saw it was eleven o’clock. There was time for a drink. A rum would definitely hit the spot.

  Without another glance, he left the shed and showgrounds and went in search of a pub.

  Three hours later, and with more than one rum under his belt, Thomas walked back in with a swagger.

  His confidence was up after winning twenty quid in a poker game with a bartender. Thomas hadn’t used his shuffling and card skills in many years, but when the man put a deck on the bar, Thomas couldn’t resist.

  The bartender had won a few rounds until Thomas got on a winning streak. He’d lost track of how many games he’d won and how many drinks he’d had. In the end, he’d had to promise he’d return so the bartender could have a chance at winning back his money.

  Now, the man who had greeted Thomas at the pavilion in the morning handed him a clipboard and pen.

  ‘And your name was?’ Thomas asked.

  ‘Ken Britton.’

  ‘Ken, I’ve been around wool longer than you’ve been alive. Don’t you go getting all high ’n’ mighty with me, like you did before. I was trained by the best judge this side of the black stump, so I reckon I’ve earned my place here, no matter how I dress or speak.’ He nodded and left the man spluttering an apology.

  As soon as Thomas felt the wool between his fingers, he closed his eyes. He was home. He rubbed the fibre, feeling its softness. There was a little grit in this piece, but that was okay. He lifted it to his nose, smelt it, gazed at it.

  Why was it, when he was here, that the wool held such a pull for him, he wondered, but when he was at home it just all seemed too hard?

  Elsa kept the farmyard and house running well, but it was his job to do the outer paddocks and the stock. His sheep were high quality. Good breeding and great structure. He could make a really successful business if he wanted to. But he didn’t want to.