by Di Morrissey
The more Chris looked at other people’s lives, the more he questioned his own. Sitting in the office one afternoon, the sun fading over the horizon, he pondered the influence he was having on Megan’s upbringing. What ethics, compassion and thoughtfulness was he encouraging in his daughter? Was he adequately supporting her ambitions and giving her confidence in her undertakings? What was the example he was setting for her?
As if on cue, Megan poked her head around his office door, breaking his train of thought.
‘Hi, Dad. I’ve brought Toby home from school to help with homework.’
Chris smiled to see her face. ‘That’s nice. Bunny’s shopping in Coffs, so get yourselves a smoothie or something else vaguely healthy.’
Later, when Chris headed for the kitchen to make himself a coffee, he heard the teenagers’ voices on the verandah and went out to say hello. The pair had their heads bent over a book, papers and notes spread across the low table in front of them.
‘Hi. What’s the subject under debate?’
‘Hi, Dad. You know Toby. He understands algebra and is trying to teach me.’
‘I’m glad you can do that, Toby. Algebra’s not one of my strong suits.’ Chris liked Toby, who was a member of Megan’s jazz group. The boy was the same height, maybe a little taller than Megan, but he had a slim build, pale skin and a thick crop of dark curls. He wore heavy-framed glasses that gave him a studious appearance, but his brown eyes were large and full of friendly warmth.
‘Actually, I find that if you just become familiar with all the rules and maths jargon, suddenly it clicks,’ said Toby.
‘That’s a good way of explaining it. I guess I didn’t persevere long enough to become fluent in maths speak. Did you two get something to eat or drink?’
‘We’re fine, thanks, Dad.’
‘My coffee is probably ready. See you later. Nice to see you again, Toby.’
‘You too, Mr Baxter.’
After dinner that evening, Susan and Megan cleaned up the kitchen by themselves so that Chris could get more work done on the book. Then they watched a TV programme together before retreating to their respective bedrooms.
‘How’s it coming, Dad?’ asked Megan as she passed the study.
Chris stretched his arms above his head. ‘Slowly. But I’m feeling good about it. I still need to find a lot more info, but I can see a bigger picture emerging.’
‘Great. Glad it’s happening. See you in the morning.’
‘Thanks for your encouragement, sweetie.’ Chris smiled at her. ‘And good night to you, too.’
Chris worked for another hour or so until he came to a point which he felt was a good stopping place, so after saving what he’d written, he turned off the computer. In the kitchen he poured himself a glass of water and padded through the house onto the darkened front verandah. He took a deep breath and inhaled the cool and fragrant night air while he watched the clouds drifting across the moon as it rose behind the hills. This was a ritual he performed almost every night, but tonight, while the smells and soft sounds were familiar, there was something that did not quite fit into this normal pattern. Chris peered into the gloom and in the pale light he was just able to make out the silhouette of a car parked on the grass verge diagonally opposite his mother’s house. During the day, tourists often pulled up on this verge to admire the spectacular views across the valley, but at night, not only was there nothing to see, but stopping there was dangerous, for if a driver misjudged the edge of the narrow road in the dark there was a thirty-metre drop straight onto the road below.
What an odd thing to do, Chris thought to himself. He shrugged and was about to turn away when something suddenly occurred to him. Was the driver of that car watching the house? Feeling uneasy, he went inside and drew the curtains across the sitting room windows.
*
The following morning, Susan asked, ‘Who closed the curtains last night?’
‘I did,’ said Chris as he crunched on some toast. ‘There was a car over on the grass verge, just in front of the house. I thought someone could have been in it, watching us.’
Susan rolled her eyes. ‘I think you have an overactive imagination. This is Neverend, where we don’t lock our houses or cars, not Sydney or Washington DC. Get a grip,’ his mother teased.
‘It just seemed odd,’ he said defensively.
When Chris opened his emails after work that day, he found a message in his inbox from the helpful Sarah from the nurses’ association.
I think I might have found your missing midwife! Shall I email the info or do you want to call me? I’ll be here till five.
Chris picked up the phone immediately.
‘Hi, Chris, I’m glad you called. I think I’ve found who you’re after. It’s taken a bit of unravelling, because she was last registered under her married name.’
‘That’s brilliant work, Sarah. I can’t thank you enough. What’s her address?’
He lifted his pen ready to write it down.
‘Actually the most recent address we have for her is an overseas one. Looks like she was living in some place in Java, Indonesia, called Bogor.’ Sarah rattled off the full address and Chris noted it down.
‘What year was that, 1968?’
‘No, it was 1994.’
Chris raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘That’s interesting. What about now?’
‘Nothing since then, I’m afraid,’ said Sarah. ‘We sent mail but it came back. No forwarding address.’
Chris felt deflated. ‘That’s that, I suppose. Dead end.’ He’d felt so close to finding Norma. ‘Thank you for your help, Sarah. Oh, by the way, what is Norma’s married name?’
‘We have her down as Norma Mary Marzuki.’
‘What an unusual surname,’ said Chris, writing it down. ‘Where do you think it originates?’
‘It could be Indonesian since our records show she was living there for a while. Sorry I can’t help you more.’
‘Sarah, you’ve been a champion, thanks again.’ Chris rang off and sat still for a minute, digesting this piece of information. He was quite intrigued. It seemed that Norma had returned to Java and married. Maybe she was still living there. This news was going to surprise Susan.
He glanced at his watch and saw that it was nearly 5 pm. Susan was playing golf, while Megan was at netball practice. He felt he had to tell someone about this interesting discovery, so he decided to call Georgia.
‘Are you in the middle of something? Heavy negotiations?’ he asked as soon as his agent answered her phone.
‘I wish. I spend such a lot of time just waiting for people to return my calls. What are you up to? It’s freezing down here today.’
Chris smiled as he imagined her lovely face and sparkling green eyes. ‘It’s a lovely sunny day here, although I have to admit that the nights are starting to get quite cold. We’ve had the fire roaring every evening this week. Listen, Georgia, I rang because I wanted to share some fascinating news about Norma. It seems that she went back to Bogor in Java and she may have married an Indonesian, although her new name is so unusual that her husband could be Russian or Hungarian for all I know. Unfortunately, I have no idea if she’s still living in Indonesia or has moved back to Australia, or gone somewhere else entirely.’
‘Heavens, that certainly is news, even if it is a bit nebulous. What does Susan say about it?’
‘She’s out, so no one knows yet except you. I just hope I can track Norma down.’
‘Well, if you could, it would be more grist to the mill. Oh, and Chris, while we’re talking, I’d like to have a couple of sample chapters when you can, just to see how things are moving. There’s a definite keenness out there for your book in principle, but publishers need to see content and your writing style before committing. The sooner we get a deal, the sooner you’ll get some cash in your pocket.’
‘That’
d be nice,’ sighed Chris. ‘I’ve been looking at the formative years of these guys, and it’s really made me think. Their families all seem to have been quite an influence.’
‘Is that so unusual?’ asked Georgia.
‘No, of course not, but it’s made me wonder about my own life and my family.’
‘Like how?’ asked Georgia, gently.
‘Like, I wish I’d talked to my dad when I had the chance, found out more about the influence his parents had on him. I’ve been wondering what effect the way I live my life is having on Megan’s future . . .’ He stopped, feeling a little awkward. ‘Oh, all that kind of stuff.’
‘Have you come up with any answers or decisions?’
‘Not really.’
‘The fact you’re thinking about these things is good. I bet Megan’s big adventure has helped you focus your mind on her.’
‘That’s very true,’ laughed Chris, trying to lighten the conversation, but then added, ‘Seriously, these last few months with my daughter have been some of the best times of my life, and when she was lost, it wasn’t just Megan who was frightened. I was pretty scared, too. I couldn’t bear the thought that I might have lost her.’
‘I can understand that,’ said Georgia. ‘I don’t think any parent would want to go through what you did.’
‘No, certainly not,’ Chris murmured, pushing the memories aside.
‘Any joy with Alan Carmichael?’ Georgia asked, as though sensing the need to change the subject. ‘Have you heard anything more from his straight-shooting solicitor?’
‘No, not since I answered his letter through my mate Duncan’s solicitor brother in Coffs. He told Alan that I would be continuing with my book with or without Alan’s cooperation but that I would be careful to avoid defaming him.’
‘Good for you. That was a wise move. When are you coming to Sydney next? I’d love to catch up.’
‘No plans. Why don’t you come to Neverend again? There’s a long weekend coming up.’
‘I’ll think about it. A break could be just what I need.’ Chris could hear the smile in her voice.
‘And bring your camera.’
*
Susan was as surprised as Chris had been when he told her what he had found out about Norma’s return to Indonesia and her marriage.
‘That is so interesting. She was so dedicated to her profession that I never really thought of her as the marrying kind. I’d love to be able to talk with her again, if you can track her down.’
After a quick google didn’t produce anything useful, Chris checked the Australian White Pages website and saw immediately that there was only one NM Marzuki listed. The address given was in Melbourne. Chris rang the number but there was no answer, so he left a very brief message. A couple of hours later his call was returned.
‘Mr Baxter?’ The voice on the phone was quietly modulated.
‘Yes, speaking.’
‘This is Norma Marzuki. I believe you wanted to speak to me.’
Chris caught his breath. ‘Yes, I’m so pleased you’ve called back. As I said in my message, I’m Chris Baxter. You were in the volunteer programme in Java in ’68 with my mother, Susan . . .’
‘Of course I remember Susan, although I haven’t seen her since then. How is she?’
‘She is very well. She’ll be so pleased that you’ve made contact with me. I know she’d love to see you again and especially find out about your life. She understands that you returned to live in Indonesia?’
‘Chris, what made you want to find me? Was it on behalf of Susan?’ Norma broke in.
Chris hesitated. ‘Not primarily. I hope you don’t feel I’m intruding, but I’m actually writing a book about the four men who were with you in Java, and I would like to hear what you have to say about your time there and perhaps your opinion of those men and their work in Bogor.’
There was a slight pause. ‘So you’re a writer.’
‘I used to be a journalist, but the media business is a sea of shifting sands these days, so I’m trying to write a book. I’m presently living with Susan and my fourteen-year-old daughter in my mother’s house at a place on the New South Wales north coast called Neverend. Look, I’d love to talk to you in person; can I meet you? I realise you live in Melbourne, but would there be a problem in my flying down?’
‘I’m not sure that I can be of much help. I haven’t kept in touch with the others, and I can’t say that I’ve taken much notice of their subsequent careers, apart from Evan’s. I have very much admired his medical achievements over the years. I did turn up at the first reunion, as I was working in Sydney at the time, but Susan didn’t go and I have to say that I felt a bit lonely there without her company.’ Norma paused. ‘Funny that. I never considered that we were particularly close when we were in Indonesia, but I’ve often thought of her. Anyway, when I moved away from Sydney for work, I didn’t bother to go to any more reunions again.’
Chris was rather surprised at her comment about his mother. Norma didn’t sound like the self-contained woman Susan had described. Perhaps his mother had had more of an influence on Norma than she realised. ‘Norma, I’d love to know your story. Where your life path has taken you . . .’
‘Oh, no. I’m not at all interesting,’ Norma said quickly.
Chris felt a mild panic rise in him at her hesitancy and knew that her willingness to talk was slipping away. ‘Norma, Mum would love to catch up with you, and I would so appreciate anything that you can tell me about those Bogor years.’ His gentle and persuasive tone quickly came to the fore.
There was another pause on the end of the line before Norma said, ‘I’ve got to be in Sydney for a few days next week. If you could get down there, perhaps we could meet on the weekend. Do you think your mother would be interested in doing that?’
Chris was filled with relief. ‘We’d planned to make a trip to Sydney in the near future, as it happens,’ he quickly fibbed. ‘And I know Mum would jump at the chance to see you. Next Saturday all right with you? Could we exchange mobile numbers so that we can stay in contact?’
Before Norma had time to make any further excuses, they’d set a time and hung up.
Chris felt elated as he rang off and went to find Susan.
‘Guess what, that was Norma on the phone, Mum. She’s agreed to a meeting, next Saturday in Sydney. I think she mainly wants to see you, so I said you’d be there with me. Do you think you can come?’
Susan smiled broadly. ‘Of course, I wouldn’t want to miss it! I’m very curious to hear about her going back to Indonesia, as well as her marriage. But we can hardly leave Megan by herself.’
‘Megan would be more than happy to stay overnight with one of her friends. I’m sure something can be arranged.’
‘Maybe Toby’s parents could put her up,’ Susan suggested. ‘Those two are pretty thick these days and I know Toby’s parents well. You chat to Megan and then I’ll give Toby’s parents a call.’
‘That sounds like a plan to me. Do you want me to call Mark and tell him we’ve found Norma and that we’re coming down to Sydney to meet her?’ asked Chris. ‘He did offer to put us up any time, so perhaps if we accept his invitation you could catch up with him too and meet his wife, Lorraine.’
Susan waved a hand. ‘I wouldn’t dream of imposing on him,’ she said.
‘Mum, he wouldn’t have offered in the enthusiastic manner he did if he didn’t mean it.’
Susan relented. ‘I suppose so, and I would like to meet his wife. Oh, all right, you can call.’
‘Wait till you see Mark’s mansion,’ added Chris.
*
Mark’s wife Lorraine, elegantly slim in slacks and a cream cashmere sweater, her pale gold hair swept up in a French roll, met Susan and Chris at the front door of the North Shore house. She ushered them into the enormous family room at the rear of the house, where lunch was be
autifully laid out on a table.
‘I’m afraid it’s just me at present,’ Lorraine said, indicating with a gentle wave that they should take a seat. ‘Mark was called away suddenly to an emergency meeting of the board of the Art Gallery of New South Wales. Evidently there’s a problem with a forthcoming exhibition that needs to be solved straight away. Anyway, he’ll be home for dinner, so you can talk to him then.’ She smiled.
‘It’s very kind of you to put us up like this, Lorraine,’ said Susan.
‘I’m so happy to meet you, Susan,’ Lorraine said warmly. ‘I’ve brought you out here as the sun just streams through these windows in winter, making this a very pleasant spot.’
‘It’s a gorgeous room,’ said Susan, unable to help glancing around at the stunning interior of the house. ‘You and Mark have a really beautiful home.’
‘Thank you, Susan,’ Lorraine said. ‘Mark talks fondly of the time you all spent in Java. It must have been an incredible experience.’
‘Yes, it was an amazing time. Have you been to Java?’
Lorraine shook her head. ‘No, although we’ve been to Bali a couple of times. The grandchildren love it there.’
‘Bali seems to be all anyone thinks about when talking of Indonesia,’ said Chris. ‘Even though it is just one of the seventeen thousand islands.’
‘I think Mark likes to go there just to practise his Bahasa. Do you still speak it, Susan?’
Susan laughed. ‘I haven’t spoken Bahasa since I left Indonesia! And that was such a long time ago that I don’t think I remember any of it.’
‘We can go for a holiday and you can brush up on it,’ said Chris. ‘When I have the money,’ he added quietly.
‘Actually, I was thinking of learning some Italian and going to Italy for a holiday,’ said Susan, casually. ‘A friend of mine has a holiday house there,’ she explained to Lorraine, obviously referring to David’s farmhouse.
