by Helene Young
‘And a whole lot prettier, but no. Charlie brought you up, not me.’
‘He doted on Georgie.’
‘Yes, he did, but he was here for you. When Georgina and Ken were young, times were tough. A whole lot of aching muscles, sweat and a cross-saw went into turning all that heavily wooded land into cattle country. We had old Nev and his son, but Nev’s mob moved around a lot and he had family commitments too.
‘Some weeks I’d load the horses up with supplies and not know when I was going to see your father again. After Ken arrived he stayed close for a few months and then I fell pregnant. It was bad timing. We’d had winter and summer rain and the feed was up to the belly of the cattle. The cows were all with calf and prices were good. Your father had to go mustering before Georgina was born. In those days we used to have to go to Cairns at least a month before our confinement, just in case there was trouble. I stayed with Mum. Ken didn’t settle at all without your father. Charlie made it back for the birth only because Georgina was late. He used to joke that she’d waited for him. I couldn’t wait to come home.’
‘It’s so different now.’
‘At least we had the Flying Docs back then. They were marvellous. They’d always land in here with no trouble. Such a comfort.’
‘So why did they have to come out here? Who was sick? Were there accidents?’
Ivy’s look was long and measured. Bees, busy before the heat of the day, buzzed as they landed on the tiny purple flowers covering the ground. Felicity ploughed on. ‘I’d never thought about the timing before, but you were married eight years before Ken was born. That’s a long time in a generation without the contraceptive pill.’
Ivy turned her head away and didn’t answer.
‘Mum?’ Felicity laid more canes on the pile. ‘Did you have trouble conceiving or did you have miscarriages?’
‘Leave it. It doesn’t matter.’ There was sharpness as well as sadness in Ivy’s tone.
‘But it does. It should have occurred to me before that you had health issues. You weren’t a young woman. And I’m thinking the Flying Doctors only turned up for an emergency in the 1950s.’
Ivy didn’t reply and Felicity resumed snipping the roses. The pile of cuttings grew to a mound.
Ivy’s voice when she finally replied was scratchy. ‘I had an ectopic pregnancy. Charlie was away. Old Mrs Dunmore picked it for what it was and called the Flying Docs. I spent a month in Cairns before I came home again. Twelve months later the same thing happened. We stopped trying for a while, then I fell pregnant again. This time the baby was in the right place, but it wasn’t to be. I miscarried. Don’t feel sorry for me,’ she said, as Felicity sat back on her heels. ‘Plenty of other women do it tough in the bush. It goes with the territory.’ Ivy had rallied as if sharing the truth made it easier.
‘So you’d been waiting for Ken for a long time before he made his appearance.’
‘Your father had given up. I was thirty-one by then.’
‘What was Ken like as a child?’
Ivy’s face softened. ‘He was a bonny boy. Took to the bottle like there was no tomorrow, but he was a little bit reserved, too. Georgie made that worse. Always up to mischief, she was. He was the boy, the eldest. He should have been the leader, but she knew what she wanted from the start. He had a beautiful smile, and his laugh . . .’
Misty-eyed, she continued. ‘His chortle made everyone smile, too.’
‘I remember following him around when he came home from boarding school. He wasn’t happy having a shadow. But with Georgie, I never doubted that she loved me.’
‘You put both their noses out of joint arriving so late on the scene. My happy accident.’
‘I always felt like their inferior sibling.’
‘I don’t know where you get that silly idea from.’
‘Come on, Mum. I lost count of the times they told me I was the dumb one in the family. It’s okay.’ Felicity shook her head as Ivy went to protest. ‘I’m not defined by it anymore. But it hurt that I was second-rate in their minds. Maybe it’s partly why I went into nursing. So I could do something that made a difference.’
‘They were such fierce competitors. I’m glad you weren’t like them.’
‘But Ken’s not like you or Dad. You both put family above all else. It’s all about Ken and there’s . . .’ Felicity searched for the words. ‘So much sense of entitlement, like the family owes him a living. It’s got worse since Dad died. He’s sent me an email telling me I have to get Mitch’s cattle off the place. He has no right. He’s trying to bully me.’ Even as she said it, she felt the squirm of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. No conversation about Ken was ever easy.
Ivy looked down at her swollen, white knuckles. ‘You two girls have always had it in for your brother. He’s only doing what he thinks is right. But this time he’s wrong. Mitch can stay.’ Her words lacked their usual spirited defence of Ken so Felicity took a gamble.
‘Mum, I know it’s not really any of my business but . . .’ She faltered when Ivy didn’t look up. ‘Why are you paying Ken’s fuel and feed bills?’
The silence stretched on again. Crows somewhere out the front had set up a racket. One of the dogs yawned behind her, lazing in the shade.
‘It is none of your business. But if you must know, Arran Downs is not doing well at the moment.’
‘But you only just have your head above water, Mum. Without Mitch doing so much more than he needs to, you’ll be in trouble. We’ll be in trouble.’
‘Mitch Trethowan is perfectly capable of feathering his own nest, you know. I paid for the recent fencing repairs, told him to take it out of the agisting fees. He’s not uncompensated.’
‘So this development, tourism venture, whatever he wants to call it. Do you want to be part of it?’
Ivy’s face tightened. ‘Ken will never agree.’
‘But Ken doesn’t have to agree if it’s Roseglen land.’ Felicity couldn’t see past Ivy’s shuttered expression. ‘Does he? Is there something you’re not telling me?’
Sudden tears spilled over Ivy’s lids and a tiny cry escaped. She waved Felicity away as she went to stand. ‘I’m fine, I’m fine. I’ve been a silly old woman. You’re right, Ken doesn’t have a say in it, but he’ll be cross that he wasn’t included. He accused me of not loving him enough, not supporting him.’
‘Mum, listen to me.’ Felicity stood, her knees complaining at the sudden change. ‘Ken’s had every opportunity. You’ve always supported him. You never gave him any reason to doubt that you and Dad loved him.’ She didn’t mean for the emphasis to fall on the word ‘him’ but it did.
Ivy’s gaze swung to her. ‘You mean like Georgina doubts I love her?’
‘Georgina always thought she was second-best.’
Ivy sniffed. ‘Georgina didn’t need the care that Ken did. She just about came out walking and talking.’
Felicity smiled at the image of that. ‘She was a child, too, Mum. Maybe she needed just as much love, but learned not to ask so she wasn’t disappointed.’
‘When did you become an agony aunt?’ Ivy asked, her tears drying.
‘Just an observer. I had plenty of time to watch the scuffles from the sidelines.’
‘There were always scuffles. Do you think Georgina will ever come home again?’
Felicity’s heart ached for her mother. It hadn’t always been easy to love her. Ivy could be taciturn, downright rude if she thought the occasion merited it. She was a stickler for the truth and for justice, and that tended to be very black and white.
‘Georgie’s bound to be home again soon. She said she missed the place last time we talked.’ That may have been stretching the truth.
‘Really?’ Ivy said, sounding almost hopeful. ‘I know the damage I’ve done. Georgina’s been strong so long she can’t let her guard down. She left Dan, that lovely man who worshipped her. He rang me, you know.’
‘Really?’
‘Well, more he returned my call I suppose you coul
d say.’
‘When was this?’
‘After Georgina first went overseas. I didn’t want my daughter in some far-off third-world country putting her life at risk. There’s plenty of charity work she could have done in Australia.’ There was a tiny pause. ‘Truth be told I didn’t want to lose her because she’d made a fool of herself.’
Felicity had no reply. What could Georgie have done to make a fool of herself?
‘Dan told me that it was Georgina’s decision,’ Ivy continued. ‘That she’d found someone else and that he was sorry. He blamed himself. Said he’d asked too much of Georgina when she was too young to understand. Love,’ he said, ‘was a two-way street and he’d never stop loving her, but he hoped she’d raise a family of girls just like her.’
‘Which she never did. And it obviously didn’t work out with the other guy.’ Felicity felt a little sick that her sister might have gone through two break-ups.
Ivy nodded. ‘But I have to share the responsibility, you see. I made her like that, so self-reliant she can’t open her heart to love. I failed my daughter.’
‘I’m not sure she sees it like that, Mum.’
‘I think she does.’ Ivy pushed wisps of hair off her face. ‘Maybe I can right some of it before I go, but it will be too little too late. Some wrongs can’t be righted.’ She looked at her daughter for a long moment as if she wanted to say something more. Instead, her eyes filled again and Felicity could only rest her forehead against her mother’s and will some of her strength into the frail little possum who’d replaced the fiery dragon.
Felicity was sure there was more that Ivy wasn’t sharing, but it would have to wait for now.
Come on, Georgie, answer your phone. I need you. I can’t face Ken alone.
Half an hour later it did ring and she snatched it up.
‘Hey, Lissie, it’s Mitch. Sorry to bail, but I’ve got some more fencing down with straying cattle and a problem with a bore pump. Can I do the tour next time you’re here?’
‘Of course. Just let me know when.’
There was silence for a moment and his breathing sounded loud in her ear.
‘Thanks for a nice evening last night. It was good to catch up.’
She smiled at the uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice. Mitch had always seemed so sure of himself. ‘Mum really enjoyed it too.’
‘Right, good. Better get going.’
‘Bye, Mitch.’
Boundaries and water. They ruled a farmer’s life. Was she really up to the challenge?
Ivy pulled the bedcovers up to her chin and wriggled her toes, or tried to, as she counted them. They were all crossed over each other like a pile of pick-up sticks, but they were all there, all still creaking. She sighed, disappointment heavy in her heart, as she stared at the ceiling. The girls were leaving this morning and wouldn’t be back for at least a week.
Dear God, why won’t you take me home? She gazed at the beam of early light, arrowing through the slit in the curtain and illuminating a corner of the photograph on the wall. Maybe Felicity was right about there being unfinished business.
Sinbad’s snores were audible over the warbling of the currawongs perched in the stand of gums out the back. One of his ears twitched as a thread of cotton from the pillowcase tickled it. It must be so uncomplicated being a cat.
Or a dog, for that matter. Those two outside had had a grand life, even if she couldn’t walk them anymore. Many a night she’d thought about letting them in for company. Charlie would have a pink fit. When she first arrived at Roseglen, wrapped in a coat and scarf against the midwinter chill, she thought the Dunmores were cruel to keep the dogs in their kennels.
Charlie laughed at her. ‘Those dogs have never known any different and they never will. Worth ten men. Treat ’em right and they’ll run all day under a summer sun. Old Nev’s the only man who works as hard as them.’
She stared at the ceiling and admired the ornate light shade. She’d always loved the pretty painted roses and the fringe of beads. Lying in this very bed, with a fretful Georgina unable to breastfeed, she used to count the tiny crystal drops, like counting sheep, willing them both to sleep. She remembered seeing the words at a doctor’s office decades later: postnatal depression. Would knowing what was wrong with her have changed anything? Ten years later, little Lissie was a placid child and Ivy had milk to spare. Guilt was more powerful even than love.
She turned on her side. She should tell Felicity about the mortgage, but what if she changed her mind about coming home if she knew the extent of the debt, that they might lose Roseglen no matter how hard she worked? Ivy knew it was selfish of her. But Lissie didn’t judge her the way the other two did. Ivy wanted her here. She gave her courage.
She cuddled around Sinbad, who stretched out a brown paw. ‘Hello, my darling boy. I’m very glad you’re still here.’ Ella called him the fur baby.
It would be lovely to have babies in the nursery again, but that was a pie-in-the-sky wish. Ken’s girls lived in Melbourne, close to Samantha, and they rarely visited, not even for Christmas.
The first time Ken brought Samantha home, she could almost smell the old money on her leather suitcase. Stylish clothes, make-up and hair never out of place. And ambition? Charlie took to calling her ‘prime minister’ when they weren’t around. She had the smarts for it, too, but there weren’t many women in politics in those days. Kenneth was undoubtedly clever enough to be prime minister but, bless him, he was a talker, not a doer.
‘He likes the sound of his own voice,’ Charlie used to say. ‘Lucky he’s got Arran Downs to fall back on.’
Lucky he had Charlie to run it for him, Ivy always thought. She just wished her husband hadn’t created that damn family company tying the two properties together. His lack of faith rankled. She was perfectly capable of running the property. Hadn’t she managed the books from the day they took over from Old Mr and Mrs Dunmore? Hadn’t she sat on a dozen committees in her time always getting good results? And Arran Downs was tainted. She didn’t want any part of it, grateful that her mother-in-law had left it to Ken. It was as it should be.
Enough, she told herself, throwing back the covers. Time to rise and face the day. The girls were going home this morning.
An hour later Felicity closed the boot of the car and came back up the ramp. Ivy sat on the verandah with a cup of tea, overseeing the move.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to tell Ken I’m moving in?’ she asked.
Ivy shook her head. ‘No, darling. We both know he’s not going to be impressed. Better that you have a job and we know that you’re here to stay before we make waves.’
‘Okay, but it’s your house. You can do what you want, have who you like to stay and it’s none of Ken’s business.’
Ivy felt her courage waver. Now was the time to tell Lissie about the mortgage, get it off her chest before she went to church with Esmay.
‘Hey Granny D, I’ll be up next time I have some days off,’ said Ella as she emerged carrying her backpack. The moment for truth was gone. ‘I’d forgotten just how peaceful it is out here. We should get some horses so we can trail ride again.’
‘Horses cost money,’ Felicity said with a shake of her head. ‘Maybe later.’
‘Maybe I can afford one,’ Ella said with a toss of her blonde hair. ‘I’m doing all right.’ She flounced down the ramp to the car with a laugh.
Ivy smiled, knowing Ella was teasing her mother. Was it wrong to want her children and grandchildren around her, to reassure herself that she didn’t create monsters? Felicity was a good mother, even if her marriage was in tatters.
‘Do you have to see Todd again?’ Ivy asked her. ‘You’re well shot of him.’
Felicity sighed. ‘I don’t know. No divorce is pretty, Mum. Ken’s was beyond ugly and I hope mine doesn’t go that way as well. The lawyers are the only winners.’
‘He was never an honourable man, so best you prepare yourself for the worst.’ Ivy bulldozed on, ignoring the stricken lo
ok on her daughter’s face. It was a mother’s duty to be blunt. ‘At least Ella seems to be taking it in her stride. When’s Sean coming to visit me?’
Felicity shook her head. ‘I’ll ask him again, but the airfares are expensive, Mum. He’s still studying, saving for a holiday to Bali, apparently, with his girlfriend.’
‘You tell him his grandmother misses him.’ And once she got him up here she’d tell him a few home truths about his father. She could see how much his decision to move in with Todd had hurt Felicity.
‘I’ll try, Mum. Let me know if you need anything else. Otherwise I’ll see you in a week.’
She leaned in then and wrapped Ivy in her arms. There was strength in her daughter that could be overlooked by the less observant. Lissie’s light fragrance clung to her cheek as Ivy let her go and she touched her hand to it, wanting to hold it there a little longer.
Ella bounded back up again, her hug exuberant and messy as she kissed her grandmother’s forehead and nose and cheeks.
‘See you soon, old chook,’ she said, her eyes bright. ‘Don’t go beating Mitch at Scrabble too often or he won’t keep visiting. Guests like to win, you know.’
‘Ha! Mitch is as competitive as any Dunmore.’
‘And don’t you let anyone tell you you’re getting forgetful. You’re the most switched-on ninety-three-year-old I know!’
‘No doubt I’m the only ninety-three-year-old you know,’ Ivy retorted.
Ella only laughed as she joined her mother in the car.
Ivy waved them off as they drove down the side of the house, then grasped the handles of her wheeled walker and made her way to her bedroom. The walker’s cheerful pink paint, along with the RACQ sticker that Ella had plastered on it, always made her smile. Her granddaughter was a credit to Felicity.
Felicity should also get the credit for Ken’s girls, Sarah and Cassie, growing up so straight and true. So many times they were left while their parents rushed off to some exotic destination or a conference. Ivy remembered them perched on the rails of the stockyard, eyes wide, hanging on Felicity’s every word, as she schooled one particularly feisty filly. Nothing, not even the lure of homemade lemonade, could tempt them away that day. She’d had to walk it down to the yards herself.
