Return to Roseglen

by Helene Young

  ‘Really?’ Ivy said sharply. ‘Since when did you cook dessert?’

  ‘It’s not that hard.’

  ‘I’ll never forget you getting a C minus for Home Economics. I was mortified. A daughter of mine, fancy that. Your father pointed out you’d topped your class for Mothercraft so he reasoned that the two had cancelled each other out. Probably why you did so well as a nurse.’

  ‘Oh God, Mothercraft.’ Georgina leaned back in her chair, interrupting before Felicity could defend herself. ‘Sex education would have been better than teaching teenage girls how to care for babies.’

  ‘They lectured us on sexually transmitted diseases in Grade Eight,’ Mitch added. ‘We were all farm kids so we understood the mechanics of sex. I think they were trying to put the fear of God into us.’

  ‘Did it work?’ Georgina asked.

  ‘Quite possibly,’ he said, his gaze sliding to Felicity.

  ‘So, what about this dessert?’ Ivy prompted. Felicity hid a smile, shying away from the look in Mitch’s eyes. Her mother’s appetite clearly hadn’t vanished.

  ‘Sure you don’t want to give dinner time to settle?’

  ‘No. I need something to soak up the sabotage.’

  ‘Righto.’ Felicity gathered the plates and took them to the kitchen, piling them into the sink. The apple crumble with its golden brown crust was resting in the warmer side of the aga. She opened the over door and the smell of sweet apples and cinnamon filled the kitchen. She breathed it in, savouring the satisfaction that she had indeed made this from scratch and it looked perfect.

  ‘Do you need a hand?’ Mitch asked from behind her.

  She almost lost her grip and swore as the hot dish touched her wrist before she could get the gloves around it and place it on the bench. ‘Damn.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Mitch stepped close. ‘That’s got to hurt.’

  ‘It’s okay. I’ll dish this up and grab some ice.’

  ‘Here.’ He turned to the freezer and grabbed an icepack from the door. ‘I bought your mum one a couple of months ago. She’s got a bad habit of burning herself when she boils the kettle. I’ve tried talking her into a plastic electric kettle, but she prefers her stove.’

  He rolled it in a tea towel then took her hands, pulling the oven mitts off before he turned her wrist over and pressed the pack against it. His fingers felt as hot as the burn. In twenty-seven years of marriage Todd had never once tried to fix an injury. A lethargy, a light-headedness, welled up from Felicity’s toes as she glowed under Mitch’s touch.

  She caught a memory of a younger Mitch, with softer hands, fashioning a sling for her arm with his shirt, then holding her in front of him on the saddle and distracting her with silly stories. His chest had been warm, the reins loose in his hands, as he walked them home to Ivy.

  ‘Keep that on it, hopefully it won’t blister.’ His voice rasped where a moment ago it had been boyish.

  Her eyes flashed to his and she regretted it, knowing her cheeks were flaming, her world off kilter.

  ‘And thanks for taking it easy on me,’ Mitch said. ‘Ivy loves to tease, but she’s normally not so blunt.’

  ‘She was getting a bit out of line.’ Her voice sounded husky and she cleared her throat.

  ‘Nothing I can’t manage. I’ll take this out.’

  With a final smile he was gone with the dish. Felicity leaned against the sink. She should put some burn cream on it as well.

  ‘You want a couple of more minutes?’ Mitch was beside her again. She resisted the urge to bury her head in his chest.

  ‘I’ll be right. Nothing that won’t heal.’

  He shifted the icepack and Felicity saw that a blister was already forming. ‘I know you’re the professional here,’ he said, ‘but I can grab the first-aid kit. I’m pretty handy at sticking dressings on.’

  The familiarity, the easy connection that had survived a lifetime of family dramas was like the smell of baking bread, or the touch of the sun on a cold winter’s morning. And yet there was an undercurrent that Felicity had never felt before, a sense that there was another meaning behind his words. Felicity wondered what his lips might feel like against hers.

  The silence stretched out, her burn forgotten in the intensity of his gaze. Ivy called out from the dining room, ‘And don’t forget the ice-cream’s in the freezer in the laundry.’

  Mitch laughed then, and the moment was gone. ‘Mrs D does love her ice-cream. I’ll get it,’ he said, brushing past her on his way out.

  She glanced behind as she walked out of the kitchen and caught the turn of his head as he looked away. Old friends didn’t necessarily make new lovers, but Mitch Trethowan with his gentle hands was battering down her feeble defences. She wasn’t sure she could blame the hormones for this lack of willpower, but wasn’t she risking too much at her age?

  Ivy surveyed the seven little tiles in front of her. Nothing but vowels. If she didn’t know better she’d think the other three had conspired to ensure she only picked up the pesky little things. Two As, two Es, an I, an O and a U. Neither use nor ornament.

  Surreptitiously she glanced at the score sheet beside her. Georgie and Mitch were neck and neck. She and Lissie trailed by twenty odd points. She tried to see where Georgie’s eyes were looking. Was it a sin that she hoped her handsome neighbour took the prize rather than her daughter? Mitch had kept the arguments at bay tonight, disarming Georgie, charming Lissie, and humouring her. She wished Kenneth had been more like Mitch, but then they say genetics and nature are more powerful than nurturing.

  ‘Mum, do I have to set the egg timer off again?’ Felicity asked, grinning. Ivy could feel her daughter’s tension and the subtle awareness between her and Mitch. Other wrongs may be too hard to right, but this one was within reach.

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘What? Is it my turn?’

  ‘Come on, you old rogue, you know it is,’ Mitch said, no rancour in his voice. ‘Stop stalling. You must have the worst hand.’

  ‘I was off with the fairies,’ she said, waving her hand at them. ‘It’s not as easy once your eyesight starts going.’

  ‘And there I was thinking your glasses looked very smart,’ Georgina said.

  Ivy poked her tongue out and resumed contemplating her tiles. A blocking move, she decided, adding the E onto AT and making the use of the triple word score difficult for anyone else. Mitch groaned. ‘Sorry, dear, something wrong?’ she said.

  ‘Nothing important.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Georgina said, lining up her letters. ‘RATE ROPE.’ She smiled at her mother. ‘I think I might be winning.’ She slid the last four tiles over the polished top towards her.

  Mitch had sunk his head in his hands.

  ‘Your go, Lissie,’ Ivy said.

  ‘Sure.’ Her youngest beamed at her. ‘I think this will work. INACCURATE. And that’s on a triple word score too.’

  ‘What? That’s outrageous,’ Ivy said, moving the pieces to add it up. ‘You’ve taken the lead.’

  ‘Seriously? There must be a mistake.’ Georgina turned the sheet around as Ivy was still trying to write. Ivy slapped at her daughter’s hand.

  ‘Manners. She’s ten points in the lead. And look, she’s only got one letter left.’

  ‘I hope it’s the Q,’ Georgina said with a quick grin.

  ‘No,’ Mitch replied. ‘I’ve got that and this is the best I can manage.’ He attached QUEU to an E and took the lead again.

  She swapped her tiles around. There was no move left for her. Mitch had taken her only other option. ‘Pass for me.’

  Georgina added an ED to START and closed the gap again.

  Lissie smiled coyly and added an S to ROPE. ‘And it’s all over,’ she said, counting up the score.

  Mitch beamed. Ivy held her pencil.

  ‘Tied! You both have the same score.’

  ‘But what about his leftover letters?’ Felicity pointed out.

  ‘Oh, of course, silly me,’ Ivy said with a frown. How could she have forgotte
n the basics? And when did Felicity become the competitive one? ‘Then you win, dear. Mitch is second and that means you came third, Georgina.’

  ‘Always nice to know the scorer is on the ball,’ Georgie whipped back. ‘And at least I beat you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be gloating about beating a ninety-three-year-old lady, Georgina. That’s not very sporting of you.’

  ‘Plenty of honour in beating a ninety-three-year-old Jedi master,’ Mitch said and, in an instant, what looked certain to end in an argument ended with laughter.

  ‘Well, I’m off to bed,’ Ivy announced, looking at their faces in the soft glow of the ornate lights above the table. It was not so different from thirty years ago. The past was so much closer now, the memories so clear and sharp she could almost touch them. The darkness and the sorrow hovered just outside the light, held at bay by her guests’ laughter.

  ‘And I’d better head off,’ Mitch said, getting to his feet. ‘Thanks, ladies, a great evening. Good food, excellent company and a deserving winner.’ He smiled at Felicity who was positively glowing with her success.

  ‘There will be revenge,’ Georgina said, sliding the tiles and board back into their faded box with its edges held together with sticky tape. ‘Not going to take that lying down, are you, Mitch?’

  ‘Always up for a rematch. We can do it at my house next time. It would be good to entertain again.’

  ‘You’re on. Felicity’s away for a week, but we should do it before you get stuck in mustering mode.’

  ‘Bye, Mrs D. You fought the good fight. There’ll be other nights,’ Mitch said, dropping a kiss on her cheek. ‘Nothing will stop you.’

  ‘How right you are,’ she replied, feeling more optimistic than she had for months. Once she’d decided Felicity was right and she did have unfinished business she’d taken the bull by the horns again. The organisational skills she’d learned during the war serving with the WAAAF had stood her in good stead. She hadn’t lost any of those, just forgotten about them.

  As she made her way to her bedroom she mentally ticked off the list. Mortgage to be sorted with Mitch this week and then Ken and his secrets could go to hell. Her will was already rewritten and that would cause more than a stir when they came to read it. The Dunmore Company to be dissolved – she didn’t doubt young Denzell and that new lawyer would find a way. Mitch and Felicity together again. That last one had some way to go and she knew her daughter too well to pester her. It was up to them now. She’d done her bit.

  If only it were that easy to right all the wrongs. She stopped in front of the portrait of the Dunmores. ‘Why did you do it?’ she murmured. ‘There was another way, a legitimate way. You forced me and Charlie to live a lie. Why?’

  Georgina sprawled in the squatter’s chair, her feet resting on the long arms, and swirled the port in her glass. A lovely way to end the night. She’d had a truly entertaining evening, needling her mother and watching Felicity and Mitch while they pretended not to notice the heat simmering between them. Ivy, the meddler, had looked like the cat with the cream.

  Georgina’s phone chirped in her pocket. She hesitated, inexplicably nervous. The thought of seeing Dan had raised some ugly truths for her, but despite everything she didn’t think she was ready to let him go. She sipped her port and admired her freshly painted nails. Ridiculous. The Limestone Hill hairdresser had given her a pixie cut that made her feel playful. That rush of blood had ended with painted nails, a scrubbed face and waxed eyebrows. She smoothed a finger over them. The pain was a little more intense than she remembered it.

  She looked at her phone.

  Hi Gina, I’ll be near Roseglen tomorrow. Is it okay to come and park the van? Didn’t want to presume so I’ve got a res at the van park.

  Georgina turned her face skyward. The verandah roof ran a black line through the shimmering night sky. She used to lie out the back counting stars and wake up hours later with Ivy shouting for her. The sharpness in the air cut through the warmth of the port. Part dirt, part gum, part Mitchell grass. The taste hadn’t changed in sixty years.

  She’d loved being a kid running wild with the horses, mustering cattle with her dad, besting Ken at roping poddy calves and taking more risks just because she could. But it was hard being the younger sibling, despite all the love her father showered on her.

  Ivy and she had locked horns from the start. It felt as though they were in competition over Charlie and her mother was always going to win that contest. Had she really been such a naughty child? To Georgie, running in the rain with her mouth open, catching the fat droplets, had been the ultimate proof that the world was a vast and wonderful place. She’d wanted to walk and talk and explore, not be limited to the world of the nursery.

  Precocious was the word she heard most often growing up, a badge she’d worn with pride. When Felicity arrived she’d resigned herself to being the odd one out and she’d vowed to show them she was special. Seemed so bloody pointless now.

  She started typing a reply on her phone.

  Ivy will have a fit if you don’t park here. Drive in and we’ll work out the best place for it.

  She went to hit send, hesitated then added, Be good to see you. She sent it before she could second-guess herself.

  ‘Hey, you.’ Felicity was nursing a half full glass of white wine as she joined her. With her chestnut hair cut to shoulder length and layered around her face, she looked ten years younger. She’d always had a softer profile, more like Ivy than Charlie, with wide set blue eyes and that petite nose. She looked like someone you’d turn to in a crisis, which everyone did.

  ‘Just got a text from Dan. He’ll be here tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, that’s lovely.’

  ‘Yeah, he wasn’t meant to be up here for a few more weeks. Must have changed his plans.’

  ‘In a hurry to see you, maybe?’

  ‘I doubt that.’

  Felicity leaned on the rail. ‘Ella phoned this afternoon. I think she’s more excited about spending time with you than the mustering. I’m so glad she’s had someone like you to look up to. She loved having holidays with you in different parts of the world. And I’m glad she had you as a sounding board. I know I wasn’t always on the same wavelength, especially when it came to careers and ambition. So thank you.’

  ‘No thanks required. You were the one who made her confident, allowed her to make choices, guided her when she needed it. You made her strong, Lissie, but not in the same way that Ivy made me strong.’

  Her sister didn’t answer for a long minute. ‘Ivy thought tough love was the only kind of love. I’m just grateful that by the time I came along she’d mellowed. And, as we’ve now worked out, she was going through menopause.’

  ‘HRT worked for me.’ Georgina laughed and drained her glass. ‘Mind you, my tolerance of fools seemed to slide pretty fast.’

  ‘I just want to cry all the time.’

  ‘You would. You’re the one with all that empathy. You sobbed at Fame and that was a happy movie.’

  Ivy’s cough reached them from her bedroom. Georgina tilted her head to listen. ‘Ivy stood up well today, but going against Ken’s going to take its toll.’

  ‘It will. She’s always defended him before so this is a massive shift. Maybe he’s done something else we don’t know about yet. I’m sure she’s hiding something.’

  ‘You think? She did flinch when Ken said we should ask her about her shonky schemes with Mitch.’ Georgina eased herself out of the chair and went to stand by Felicity. ‘I kept looking for an opportunity to bring it up tonight.’

  ‘I asked him in the car today. He looked evasive, but he assured me it’s above board and it’s Ivy’s decision. Last time Ella and I were here he was going to drive us out there, but then he had some fence issues and a bore that stopped working. Maybe we should just take ourselves up there and see what’s going on.’ Felicity frowned. ‘There was no mention from him, or Mum, of money having already been invested. There was vague talk of a partnership.’

 
; ‘Do you think Ken’s throwing up a smokescreen?’

  ‘Possibly. He won’t want too much scrutiny of his books if what I suspect is true.’

  ‘So did Mitch or Ivy mention a time frame for this project?’

  Felicity shook her head. ‘With mustering about to start Mitch won’t be doing anything but working cattle for the next six weeks. By then I’ll know whether I have a job and we’ll know more about whether we can spilt the properties apart again.’

  ‘I just about choked when I saw how badly in debt Arran Downs had become in the last financial year.’

  ‘Me too. Ken hasn’t recovered from his disaster with the Black Angus three years ago, and he’s had all the fixed overheads still. I guess he must have eaten up all his reserves.’

  ‘Still. You’d think he would have looked at cutting back. From what I could see on those diagrams, the costs had increased.’

  ‘I thought that too. No idea why that would be.’

  ‘I’m very glad you were smart enough to find a way to generate income for Roseglen. Ivy’s not really across the finances anymore, is she?’

  ‘No.’ Felicity shot her a look that could have been a rebuke. ‘It must be tough for her to accept that, Georgina. She told me how joining the Women’s Auxiliary Australian Air Force during the war was the making of her. Up until then her father had managed her finances and doled out an allowance. She never looked back after the WAAAF and she’s been the backbone of this place since. Dad, bless him, had no head for figures. She was the one making the tough decision.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘I know. You look at the farm records. They’re full of Ivy’s neat writing. You can almost feel the stress in them when she uses a red pen to write in the negatives. I asked about that once. You know what she told me?’

  Georgina shook her head.

  ‘Your father’s much better with visual information. The red helps him appreciate the state of the farm.’

  Georgina laughed. Ivy’s teaching methods had been gleaned from books and magazines, but some of her thinking was ahead of her time. ‘And she was right. Still didn’t change his mind on using that bloody water.’