Return to Roseglen

by Helene Young

  ‘I don’t have to sign anything, son,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard you spend a lot of time at the pokies.’

  ‘A man’s got to have some fun.’ He was flipping the pen between his fingers.

  ‘I’ll ring the bank, tell them I want the mortgage cancelled. You’ll have to raise your own finance or sell Arran Downs.’ She wished her voice didn’t sound so querulous. She wanted to be brave, to stand on straight, strong legs. Like she used to. She hated being a needy shadow, that he made her feel as though he was helping her when he was stealing her life away. She’d been naive to think he’d improve with age. It was bad enough to fear that a stranger could rob her, but to find that the thief was one of her own?

  ‘I’m not selling, Mum. Arran Downs’s mine.’ He tucked the papers under his arm and his gaze flitted over the carved sideboard with the Waterford crystal vases resting on embroidered doilies. ‘And Roseglen belongs to the firstborn Dunmore. You were only ever Charlie’s wife.’

  She gasped, her temper, that legendary temper of the fire-breathing dragon, finally found some spark. ‘Don’t you dare. Without me Charlie would have lost this place during the droughts. I saved it, saved him, so there’d be something for the three of you. I decide what happens to Roseglen.’

  He swung towards her. ‘No, you don’t. You’ve just made the girls your Powers of Attorney. It’s too late to change your will now. I’d win on appeal.’

  How did she not know that his smile could be so cruel?

  ‘And Georgina will pack you off to a nursing home as soon as she’s bored with being here,’ he continued. ‘That shouldn’t take long.’

  She pressed into her seat and raised pleading eyes to his. ‘Son, don’t do this. I don’t understand why you’re angry with me. We did everything we could to support your ambitions. Gave you every opportunity. This is fraud. It’s wrong. You have children who need a father. Grandchildren who need their grandfather. You can work your way out of this debt. You have standing in the community, even if you don’t love it out here.’

  In the silence of the room, static from Sinbad’s fur crackled. Outside, Lady raised a bark as if in enquiry. The air-conditioning rumbled like a timpani drum, ominous in the background. Ivy barely managed to breathe as she waited for something, anything. The emotions were hard to pick as his face pinched. Will God see it her way in the reckoning?

  Ken straightened and squared his shoulders. ‘Roseglen will always be mine. And we both know why, Ivy Dunmore.’

  His triumphant smile was the final straw. The truth must be told. It would set them both free. The inexplicable flash of joy forced Ivy to her feet, unseating Sinbad who turned enigmatic eyes on her before sitting like a tiny sphinx at her feet. One final move on the chessboard.

  ‘It’s too late, Ken. It’s done.’ She held his gaze as she locked her knees, but there was no triumph in her smile. This was not the time to gloat. ‘Roseglen will never be yours. I’ve written everything down. You can go to the police if you want, but you can’t change it now.’

  She would never know for sure if it was deliberate, but as Ken swung towards her he kicked the walker. She knew, as it flew from her hands, that she wouldn’t be able to stand. She could have reached for Ken, but in that instant she didn’t want to know whether he would let her fall.

  Her right knee went first and she put her arm out. Sinbad sprang at Ken, with a terrible yowl, as Ivy’s head hit the floor.

  Ken swore, but it was Charlie’s voice she heard as the grey mist rolled in and her breathing eased.

  ‘Got a temper, that lad. It will get him into trouble one day.’

  Felicity stretched, digging her fingers into her aching lower back. So far the morning of her last day at the hospital had been quiet.

  In the treatment room closest to the nurses’ station where Felicity sat, a doctor was explaining to a family that their boy had sustained a major head trauma falling off his bike on the way to school and was being transferred to ICU. The outcome was difficult to predict. It was unfortunate the helmet he was wearing hadn’t been fastened. Some news was always difficult to deliver. Felicity wouldn’t miss that aspect.

  An alarm sounded at bed six and Felicity rose from her chair. ‘I’ll get it,’ she said. Her colleague and friend, Ben, looked up with a smile.

  ‘Thanks, almost finished this file.’

  She slipped between the curtains. The middle-aged man who’d presented with chest pains was lying on his side snoring. The monitor for oxygen had slid from his finger. She glanced at his details as she cancelled the alarm. ‘Hey, Peter. Just need to fit this again,’ she said, gently lifting his arm. He barely stirred, but she managed to clip the device back on his index finger. She freed the lead, leaving enough for him to turn.

  At least he was comfortable now. She stopped for a moment beside the bed. He’d come in alone in the ambulance and she’d admitted him. No history of heart disease, no history of chronic illness. His clothes were expensive, tidy. His cheeks were smooth, as though he’d shaved before he’d called the ambulance. And maybe he had. He’d listed no next of kin, not even a contact number for a friend. A man alone, in pain and unwell. Was this what life after divorce was like?

  The swish and clatter of the door to the ambulance bay brought her back to the present. Voices were sharp, elevated. It was an urgent case. She hurried down the corridor.

  She’d miss the banter, the frenetic action when something went wrong, the quiet joy of the successes, and the mixed emotions as people came and went, not all of them by the front door. In thirty years technology had improved, enabling heart operations they hadn’t dreamed of when she started. Patients survived and thrived with stents and bypasses and valve replacements where once they would have died. But hospitals were now huge places with less room for the personal, less time for the patients, and a whole lot more paperwork. Ticking boxes she wouldn’t miss.

  Ben was already dealing with the paramedics and their patient. He gestured with a shake of his head that he was across it, no need for her. She settled back at the desk, pulled a stack of files towards her and started checking the online information was up to date.

  Did she feel a little bit guilty that she was sneaking out ostensibly on long service leave with no plan to return? Absolutely, but even thinking about it made her teary. If she tried to say goodbye, she’d be crying enough for a wet season.

  Most of the packing was finished, not that she was taking much with her. Once the house was sold there’d be at least a week of work to do before it could settle. No doubt Todd would leave that to her too.

  Ben had come and gone several times. The young woman had a fractured ankle. Someone was coming to collect her shortly to take her to X-ray.

  ‘You off for a break?’ he asked Felicity. She glanced at the clock. For a quiet morning, it had somehow gone quite quickly.

  ‘Sure, if you’re right to hold the fort?’

  ‘Mel’s back from her break and two more staff are due on any minute. Scarper, now,’ he replied.

  She finished the patient file she was working on, then turned on her phone. While it booted up she gathered her bag, dragged a comb through her hair. The shorter cut was easy to manage, but she missed being able to drag it back in a ponytail and forget about it.

  Her phone beeped with messages and she frowned at the missed call numbers. The same one, three times. Her eyes closed as she pressed redial.

  ‘Hello, Ozzie Assist Home Surveillance. How may I help?’

  ‘Hi, this is Felicity Sharman. You’ve left messages on my phone. I assume it’s about my mum, Ivy Dunmore.’

  ‘Just one moment. Yes, Felicity, we have your number down as the contact for Mrs Ivy Dunmore. Is that correct?’

  ‘Yes, yes it is. What’s wrong?’ She wiped her hand down her pants and switched the phone to her other ear.

  ‘Mrs Dunmore activated her alarm and she’s not answering, although we can hear a dog howling through the monitor. Are you in a position to go and check on her?’
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  ‘No, I’m in Brisbane. Have you tried any of the other contacts?’

  ‘Yes, we have. Ken Dunmore is ringing out and Mitchell Trethowan is diverting to message bank. We’ve left a message with him as well.’

  ‘Okay.’ She grabbed the back of a nearby chair. ‘Can you organise an ambulance? I’ll keep trying Mitch.’

  ‘The ambulance has already been dispatched. Please let us know if you can contact Mitch.’

  ‘I will.’ She hung up, biting her lip. Ivy had had two false alarms and on both occasions she’d answered when they rang to check. But the dogs were barking. The system was sensitive enough that if Ivy fell within a fifty-metre radius of the house she could still be heard by the alarm monitoring company if she called out. She must be unconscious.

  Felicity made her apologies and headed for the door, phone clamped to her ear. Mitch answered on the fifth ring.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Mitch, it’s Felicity. Sorry to bother you.’

  ‘Hey, Lissie, no problem. What can I do?’ He sounded like he was outside.

  The tsunami of relief was instantaneous. ‘It’s Ivy. Her fall alarm’s activated.’

  ‘Shit. I’m on it. It’ll take me fifteen at least to get there.’ A bonnet slammed. ‘I’ll call you back.’

  ‘Thanks. They’ve ordered an ambulance because none of us were answering our phones.’

  ‘Had my head in the engine of the camp cook’s truck. Bloody exhaust gasket’s given up. But the lads’ll be right. Call you soon.’

  ‘Is Ella flying?’

  ‘Yeah. She’s out with the ringers. You want me to let her know?’

  ‘Let’s see what the problem is first. Don’t want to worry her if she’s in an aircraft.’

  ‘Right. I’ll call you.’

  She opened the door of her car and started the long drive home. Should she ring Georgina? No. Her sister had sent a text to say she was sightseeing, headed for the escarpment with Dan and his van. ‘Bugger,’ she swore, blinking back tears. Just when they were putting measures in place Ivy had to have a fall.

  She pulled into her drive as the phone rang again.

  ‘Lissie, it’s me. She’s taken a tumble and is unconscious, but she’s breathing and has a pulse. Looks like a head trauma, bloody nose, but hopefully nothing else is broken. I haven’t moved her as she was pretty much in recovery position. Ambos are on their way and Ella should land any minute now.’

  ‘Oh God, that’s awful.’

  ‘Could be worse, Lissie, a lot worse. She’s fallen in the lounge room and there were many things she could have hit on her way down. Looks like she’s tipped her walker over somehow. Sinbad won’t leave her side.’

  ‘At least she’s alive.’

  ‘Yeah. I’m just getting a dressing from the kitchen. She must have had company this morning. There’s a couple of mugs on the bench and the coffee jar lid is off. And the milk’s been left out.’

  ‘Really? She didn’t mention that she was expecting anyone.’ Ivy only drank from cups.

  ‘Maybe one of the ladies from town. Listen, I’ll call if she comes around. Otherwise I’m sure they’ll get the Flying Docs in and I’ll send Ella down with her. She’ll need someone with her in Cairns.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll book a flight now and get there as soon as I can.’

  ‘Thank God she was wearing her alarm.’

  ‘She hasn’t been, so yes. I just wish . . .’

  ‘Hey, she’s the one insisting that she’s perfectly fine alone. Don’t bother doing the guilt trip on yourself.’

  ‘Easy for you to say.’ Anxiety was winning as she walked into the house. ‘Keep me posted and I’ll text my flight details to Ella.’

  ‘Sure. I can hear the aircraft now so she’s not far away. Talk to you soon.’

  She found a flight leaving in two hours and winced at the steep price as she entered her credit card details. Her phone rang again while she was throwing clothes into a bag. The rest of the stuff could wait.

  ‘Ella! Are you there?’

  Her daughter sounded like she was running. ‘Just on my way from the airstrip. I heard a Flying Doctor getting airborne out of Coen and heading our way. I guess that means she’s not good?’ Her voice cracked on the end and Felicity swiped at her own tears.

  ‘Mitch said she was unconscious but breathing, and she had a steady pulse. At her age the RFDS would be prudent, Ella. She’ll be fine. She’s a tough nut. And we’ll all be there to look after her.’

  ‘God, it’s awful. I’m not ready to lose her, Mum.’

  ‘Neither am I, honey. Just be strong for her.’

  ‘I’m almost there.’

  ‘Call me when you know more. I need to get to the airport and onto the flight. I’ll be there by two if the flight’s on time.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll go with her. Love you, Mum.’

  ‘Love you,’ said Felicity, but Ella had already hung up.

  In the taxi to the airport she stared unseeing as they passed the walls of the Doomben race track draped in orange flowers, followed by the gracious homes sitting next to shabby shacks that led into industry and the soaring ramps of the motorway. She knew nothing stayed the same and Ivy had had a long and full life. She didn’t want to think that it might be over, not now, not when she had plans in place.

  She shook her head at the arrogance of that thought. Her plans were nothing when it came to her mother’s life. But everything would change if Ivy passed away. Felicity wouldn’t be living at Roseglen. There’d be no need to work in Mareeba to be close to her mother.

  Her final shot at being a grazier would be gone. She was floating, drifting in a place where she’d never been before. So many times she’d comforted the families of patients experiencing just this so she knew it would pass. Once she landed in Cairns, there’d be plenty to do. But for now she was in limbo, waiting for news of her mother, knowing that once again her life was about to take a different direction.

  Her hip felt like it had barbed wire twisted around it and she turned, trying to ease the ripping sensation. The faces in the pictures on top of the piano were watching her, waiting. She smiled at Ken Senior. He was a tough but fair man. The epitaph on his headstone said it all. ‘Fools he would not tolerate and imposters he could tell at a glance.’

  Ivy’s gaze shifted to Charlie in his uniform. ‘What sort of hell did you live through, my love?’ she murmured. ‘You and your brothers.’ Even gentle, wise Charlie had demons that pursued him and turned him into a raging maelstrom. The extra time it had taken for him to come home from war made it worse, not better. No one back home had even heard of the peacekeeping mission in Japan. No one even stopped to say ‘Welcome home, Charlie.’ Instead, they asked, ‘Where have you been, Charlie?’

  Old Mrs Dunmore warned Ivy that women bore the brunt of their man’s trauma when they returned. She remembered smiling politely as they sat together in the kitchen, thinking the older woman was exaggerating.

  ‘Believe me, Ivy, they come home so broken we can’t fix them. No one can,’ Old Mrs D had insisted. Ivy remembered the scene so clearly still, down to the precious Royal Doulton tea setting and the plate of scones with homemade cumquat jam.

  ‘Is that why Ernie gave up hope?’ Ivy asked the photograph. ‘Poor little Dottie and her bub.’

  Her eyelids were leaden, as though the pennies for the dead were already in place.

  ‘Granny!’ Ella slammed through the door, her footsteps thundering on the boards. Ivy was ripped back to the present. ‘What have you been doing, you silly possum?’ her granddaughter asked, kneeling beside her. She’d brought sunshine with her. Or perhaps she’d opened the curtain.

  ‘I’m such a nuisance, Ella-Bella. You didn’t need to come home.’

  ‘Oh, yes I did. I’m not missing out on a trip to hospital. I love that crappy coffee they serve.’ Ella stroked Ivy’s hair back from her face, tucking the short waves behind her ears. ‘Your poor nose looks crooked and you’ve done a good job on that eyeb
row. I think you’ll need a plastic surgeon to repair that. Can’t have railway tracks on a face this pretty.’ She smiled sympathetically as she looked around. ‘How did you manage to fall here? There’s nothing to trip on at all.’ Sinbad edged between the two of them, angling for a pat.

  ‘I don’t remember, really.’ Ella was too much like Georgina, always hunting out the truth, even if the truth hurt.

  ‘Did you black out?’

  ‘Darling, I’m really not sure.’

  ‘So where does it hurt?’

  ‘Nowhere hurts. Mitch is just being cautious.’

  ‘Good. And where is Mitch?’

  ‘Clattering about in the kitchen. He said it was a mess.’

  ‘When did you fall?’ she asked and Ivy had to think about that.

  ‘After breakfast. I was here, reading a paper.’ Ivy frowned. That didn’t feel right. ‘Or just sitting?’

  ‘Or maybe sleeping?’ Ella teased her.

  Ivy tried to sit up, but Mitch appeared again before she could.

  ‘No, Mrs D, stay still. They phoned to say the Flying Docs will be here in five. The ambos have been called to a car accident. And they don’t need both of them here anyway. Did you have a visitor this morning?’

  ‘Yes, I think I did?’

  ‘Who?’ Ella asked.

  Ivy tried to remember, but something was in the way.

  ‘Ken, by any chance?’ Mitch asked, sinking to his haunches beside them. His knees popped. Not good for a man his age. ‘There are mugs on the sink. You usually have a teacup,’ he said.

  And the veil was ripped from her memory. She closed her eyes, not ready to admit anything, until the fuzziness in her head subsided.

  ‘You okay, Granny D?’ Ella asked, hand on her shoulder. ‘Can I get you a cuppa?’

  ‘No, leave it, Ella, until the doctor’s been,’ Mitch said. Ivy could imagine a glance shooting between them. An aircraft sounded overhead and Mitch got to his feet.

  ‘I’ll go and collect them. Don’t you two get up to any mischief now.’

  His footsteps echoed down the hallway. She did wish people would remember to remove their boots. Mitch should know better. She peered at Ella and realised her glasses were missing.