by Margaret Way
“We don’t accept that, Marigold,” Ava said. “You’re too conniving for your own good, my dear. Perhaps it would make Jimmy feel better about things?” she considered. “He’d be angry, of course. He would have every right to be, but if he knew you hadn’t miscarried, his child hadn’t been lost at all, he might start to feel stronger. Pick up his life again.”
“What womanizing?” Marigold glared back at her adoptive mother as though she hated her. “Serves him right.”
“Jimmy should know the truth,” Amelia said. “He’s on the brink of a total breakdown. He has to be saved. You should tell him, Marigold. You can claim you truly believed you were pregnant. I’ll go so far as to back you, but he must be told.”
“No!” For one brief moment, Marigold looked terrified. “I’m going to divorce Jimmy. I’m going to take him for all I can get. Just find it in your hearts to protect me.” She looked rather wildly from Amelia to Jeremy to Ava. “I’m family. It would rebound on us all. The press will stick their noses into all our lives. They would find out everything. I’ll destroy Melly if you fail me. Royce knows poor, old Jimmy would give his life for her. It would pay you all to back my story. You’re a legal man, a realist, Dad. I appeal to you.”
“I don’t want any part of this,” Jeremy Boyd said. “The Stirling family won’t either. We all keep quiet. How many people did you tell you were pregnant, Marigold?” he asked. “Truth now.”
“No one except Melly,” Marigold said. “She was the only one outside Jimmy. He didn’t tell anyone either. We both agreed on that.”
“Well then. We can keep it within the families. I know the Stirlings will agree. It’s the way things are done in certain families too much in the public eye. We need not fear them. But your husband must be told, Marigold. Things will settle down in time. Then you can get your divorce in a year’s time.”
Marigold was looking back at Jeremy with an expression of astonishment. Even hurt. “You won’t protect me?”
“It’s perfectly clear you’ve been behaving badly, Marigold,” he said. “There is nothing for it but to put things straight. You and James Stirling will get your divorce as civilly and quietly as possible. It’s a great pity the two of you ever met.”
“I mightn’t get as much as I’ve been counting on.” The words came out sounding worried.
“It might push you into making a real life for yourself,” Ava said.
When Marigold looked up, there were tears in her eyes. “Can I stay the night, Mum? I don’t want to go back to the apartment. I hate being on my own. I’m not like Melly. Beautiful or not, she’s a born old maid.”
“I wouldn’t hold out much hope for that, dear,” Ava said. “Of course you may stay the night. Your room is always made up. We’ve always been here for you, Marigold. Sadly for you, you’ve never seen it.”
* * *
After consulting with her father, Amelia decided to take early annual leave. She was to accompany Marigold to Kooralya, where Marigold was to make peace with her husband. When the right moment presented itself, she would tell him she hadn’t lost their baby. She was to say she hated herself for it, but she had been too ashamed to tell him she hadn’t been pregnant. She had experienced a number of true pregnancy symptoms, which wasn’t unusual in phantom pregnancy cases. Her breasts had enlarged. Menstruation had stopped. She’d had to cope with morning sickness. There were strong emotional and psychological factors underpinning the fairly rare condition. It could never be forgotten she had lost her parents in a horrifying car crash at the tender age of five.
Marigold had a gift. She was a natural-born actress. Consequently, she was word-perfect with the lines she was being virtually forced to deliver. She had even perfected wringing her hands. She knew the image she had to project was that of a defenceless young woman who had made a huge mistake.
* * *
Royce made it his business to prepare James for the visit. He wasn’t at all sure James was feeling as good as he made out. James really needed help. More help than Royce could give him. What his brother actually needed was counselling.
They sat on their horses in the shade of the red gums that overhung the mossy flower-strewn bank leading down to the creek. It was washed sparklingly clean by all the rainfall the Channel Country had recently had. It still seemed to him incredible after the tough time Kooralya and the neighbouring stations had experienced after three long years of drought. Rain had made confidence soar. There was a big demand for the high-quality beef the area was famous for, on the home front and their regular overseas markets.
“Marigold is coming here?” James responded with a quick frown and a note of alarm. “What for exactly?”
“As I understand it, she is desperate to make peace with you.” Royce controlled the cynicism he felt. Surely he could give Marigold the benefit of the doubt.
“On no account do I believe it,” James jeered.
“Amelia is coming with her,” Royce tacked on, closely watching his brother’s face.
“Amelia?” James sounded both startled and thrilled. “Why would she come?” His hands on the reins tightened and then released. Tightened and released.
Royce shifted his black Akubra further back on his head. “To support Marigold, of course,” he said as neutrally as he could.
“That’s what I don’t get at all.” James shook his head. “Marigold is so bloody jealous of Amelia, a blind woman would see it. Yet Amelia doesn’t. I see that as ominous for Amelia. Marigold is fast growing into a woman to be avoided. Yet Amelia continues to support her.” He spoke with dismay.
“Not all that easy for family to disentangle,” Royce said. “We have to remember, they grew up together from little girls. They lived in the same house. They were treated like sisters. Amelia is only two years older than Marigold. She has a protective nature. In any case, Marigold would have begged her to do it. You don’t have to see Marigold if you don’t want to, though I have to say her email went a long way to softening my hard, old heart.”
“It would! Amelia wrote it. Marigold couldn’t write a shopping list. Add to which she doesn’t have a genuine bone in her body. She wants to come here to discuss a divorce.”
“It’s what you want too, isn’t it, Jimmy?” Royce held his brother’s eyes. It worried him that James appeared to have used up all his reserves of strength.
“Of course. Think of it, Amelia coming back here!” he exclaimed almost in wonderment.
“You have to accept Amelia doesn’t return your feelings.” Royce thought it necessary to issue a clear warning. “She’s your friend, Jimmy. That’s all.”
“It’s enough,” James answered. “Marigold can come. It’s showdown time for her. She’s going to demand a fortune before she takes herself off.”
“You did marry her,” Royce pointed out. “You gave her our name. We’ll sort this out quietly. Amelia and her family will agree. They won’t want notoriety any more than we do. Jeremy Boyd is a high-profile lawyer, a senior partner in his own firm.” Royce thought he would never forget the furore that had accompanied his parents’ very public divorce. It continued for years after. His grandfather, a very private man, had abhorred all the publicity the family had been caught up in. The press had even got hold of Anthea’s sad story. How her fiancé had been speared by a plantation worker in New Guinea. They had dug up an engagement photo of Anthea and her fiancé to post in the papers. Nothing the press liked more than ferreting out family secrets and sensitive family matters. Nothing personal. It sold papers and gave reporters a job.
* * *
The first time Amelia had flown over the remote southwest corner of the giant state of Queensland, images of the red planet had come instantly to mind. She had seen all the amazing pictures of Mars released by NASA. The vast landscape was the same uniform fiery red. The same eroded dunes, rocks, and shallow craters. Planet Mars, the Outback counterpart, was at least studded with the ubiquitous spinifex that dried to a dark gold. Kooralya, with its homestead and numerous
outbuildings, had appeared to her fascinated eyes as some remote settlement in outer space.
Now they had returned.
In the few weeks that had passed, unbelievably, a miracle had occurred. She had listened daily to the weather forecasts for the nation. Outback Queensland was rejoicing. Late-spring rains had bucketed down over a huge area, bringing joy to the drought-stricken state. Drought had turned to boom times. Rain was everything the Outback prayed for. Word was, remote satellite towns were celebrating as well.
She was amazed by the happiness she, a city dweller, felt. Her trip to Kooralya had stirred her imagination. What she saw now to her delighted eyes was a formerly parched land turned not a light green, nor a medium green, but a brilliant green. It had been reported to the nation that Uluru, the great rock formation at the very centre of the continent, sacred to the aborigines, towered above as luxuriant a landscape as ever a desert could be.
Marigold, on the other hand, showed not a glimmer of interest. She was looking increasingly fearful they might crash at any moment. The pilot of their light aircraft, whom Royce had hired, commenced the descent onto Stirling land. Amelia was able to look down awestruck on an ancient landscape that slipped away into infinity. No wonder the ancients had worshipped the rain gods. The vast territory was covered in a thick mantle of wild grasses and beautiful wildflowers: millions of white yellow-centred paper daisies she could readily identify and innumerable varieties she didn’t know the names of. The floral splendour blazed on forever.
“Marigold, do look! It doesn’t seem possible such beauty could rise from the sun-scorched earth.” All it had taken was enough rain for the wildflowers to come out in their billions from miraculous dormant seeds.
She was utterly bewitched, even if Marigold didn’t share her fascination. She had brought her faithful Pentax with her. It would be a wonderful opportunity to explore the Wild Heart that could turn overnight into paradise. The water courses and billabongs that crisscrossed Kooralya and gave the Channel Country its name were filled to the brim with life-giving water. The surfaces glinted a blinding silver. She could see station stockmen driving herds of cattle towards the numerous billabongs. She even spotted near the eroded red hills a herd of brumbies, the Outback’s wild horses, galloping like the wind across the furnace-red sands. There were no half-measures with this incredible land.
Drought or flood.
* * *
Royce and Jimmy were there to meet them, both men lounging beside a station Jeep. They looked very glamorous to city eyes, dressed in cowboy gear that suited their tall, lean bodies and long legs to perfection. Not a skerrick of extra weight on either of them, though Royce would weigh in heavier.
Once out of the light aircraft and safely on the ground, Marigold’s confidence was restored. She rushed ahead of Amelia, and then took her time to embrace not Jimmy, but Royce. She reached up to kiss his cheek. “Hey, big man!” she cried as if they were the greatest of friends.
Amelia winced. This was one of Marigold’s tricks. She was determined to have Royce, head of the family, as her ally.
How little she knew him!
She continued to watch as Marigold turned to her husband, offering Jimmy her hand. “How ya doing?” she asked, looking into a face that had recovered much of its good looks.
Jimmy gave a twisted grin. “How you goin’, Marigold? I’ve been counting the minutes until you arrived.”
Marigold gave a whoop of laughter. “More like Amelia,” she said, as though determined not to let the subject drop.
Time for me to approach, Amelia thought. She smiled at both men. Little tremors were running down her back. Thoughts of Royce had consumed her. He took her outstretched hand. Jimmy had no hesitation giving her a brotherly kiss on the cheek.
The astonishing immediacy of skin on skin! It was as though their entwined hands simply and directly registered what was and had been from the start an inevitable attraction. The kind of twisted passion Heathcliff had felt for Catherine Earnshaw? She had read Wuthering Heights many times. She had never thought she could be so caught up in such complex emotions herself. Now she wasn’t so sure. Alone in bed at night, she had felt Royce’s presence, his mouth on hers. She heard his deep, vital voice, caught the sparks that flew from his body to hers. It was all terribly melodramatic like Emily Brontë’s novel, but she couldn’t wave away her real reactions. It would be a total disaster to fall in love with the wrong man.
And then there was Charlene.
She made an effort to appear totally normal. “I can’t believe the transformation rain has brought,” she said, her eyes a sparkling green in her smiling face. “It’s a revelation. Kooralya turned into paradise! I’m going to have to explore it.”
“We’re not here for long, Melly.” Marigold’s breathy tones sounded sharp.
“I might not go back with you,” Amelia tossed off, as if totally independent of Marigold and her wishes. “If the family will have me, I’ll stay on a few more days.”
“That’s hardly what we agreed.” Marigold was starting to show her natural pugnacity.
Royce cut in smoothly. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Amelia. I understand you’re on vacation?”
“It couldn’t have come at a better time. I’ve never seen such floral splendour in my life. I’ll have to ask Anthea all about it.”
“She’s the expert,” Royce answered, with obvious pride in their aunt. “Anthea has always said one day she’ll write a book about Kooralya’s wildflowers.”
Amelia nodded. “She should. I expect she’s taken loads of pictures of the desert in bloom?”
“Look,” Marigold very sweetly interrupted. “Can we get out of the sun?”
They were actually standing in the shade of the hangar where the Beech Baron and a yellow helicopter were housed. Another yellow helicopter was parked alongside the hangar.
“Of course, Marigold. I’ll drive you back to the house,” Royce bent his head to look at her. Like Amelia, Marigold was wearing close-fitting cotton jeans with a sleeveless, oval-necked cotton top in a daffodil yellow that suited her colouring. Amelia’s top was white. Amelia had cinched a wide leather and brass belt around her narrow waist. It was hard to miss Amelia. She had just the right body tight jeans loved.
“It is hot, Marigold,” he said. “Jimmy and I won’t be able to join you for lunch, unfortunately. Too much to do. We’ll be back at dusk.” A station hand was hovering. Royce beckoned to him to take their visitors’ luggage up to the house.
* * *
The men having driven away, Amelia and Marigold walked toward the house. The front door was open. Marigold tugged at Amelia’s arm. “You were only joking about staying on?”
“I’m in no rush, Marigold,” Amelia said. Anthea Stirling appeared in the open doorway, waving. Amelia waved back as Anthea proceeded to skip down the short flight of stone steps.
“It’s great to have you back again!” Anthea put her arms firmly around Amelia, who responded with a hug, before turning to Marigold. “How are you, my dear?” she asked, solicitously.
“I’ll be all right, eventually,” Marigold answered, her mouth turning down. “I need to take my next step in life.” She spoke as if meeting Jimmy was the worst thing that had ever happened to her.
“We were devastated to hear you lost the baby.” There was considerable sympathy in Anthea’s cultured voice. “I’ve been saying prayers for you and Jimmy. Lots of them.”
“We’re going to need them,” Marigold said, tartly, purposely standing aloof. Unlike Melly, she could never find common ground with Jimmy’s aunt.
“Come into the house,” Anthea invited. She had to keep reminding herself Marigold bore the family name. “Your luggage will be brought to your rooms. The same as before. Lunch is scheduled for noon.”
“I can’t wait to see the wildflowers,” Amelia said with enthusiasm. She took Anthea’s arm. It was a gesture so perfectly natural she might have known Anthea forever. “I’ve never seen a spectacl
e so glorious from the air. Now I have to see it close-up. Royce said you intend writing a book about Kooralya’s wildflowers one day?”
Anthea laughed. “I’ve been saying that for years.”
“It’s something you’ve got to do,” Amelia said. “You have to share all the glory around you. Push yourself. I’d love to help.”
“What is it with you guys and flowers?” Marigold asked in an irritated voice. She looked and sounded like a woman under pressure. “Where would a book about wildflowers get you?”
“What a question, Marigold!” Anthea decided to laugh off Marigold’s comment. “I would be giving and getting great pleasure. It is, as Amelia has just pointed out, a responsibility.”
* * *
Pippa had prepared a light lunch of seared scallops flown in that morning from the tropical north. A capsicum salad served as a bed for the seafood. It was followed by a tangy-tart panna cotta with a silky lightness dressed with fresh strawberry and rhubarb compote. Anthea had invited Pippa to sit down with them, making four at the table, and then Sally joined them.
After lunch, Amelia and Anthea waited until the worst of the heat had worn off before taking one of the station’s Jeeps to the spectacular desert gardens some half a mile from the home compound. Marigold, predictably, had declined to come.
“I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time without me.” It was far too hot for her to exert herself.
Sally could see Anthea and Amelia might well have a lovely time without her. It was odd to see two young women who had grown up together as sisters display markedly different characteristics. “Marigold and I can have a nice long chat,” she said. with a touch of mischief.
Amelia could have laughed out loud. It was the very last thing Marigold wanted. Indeed, Marigold was frantic to get away from her mother-in-law. “That would be lovely, but I need to rest,” she said. She hadn’t taken to the frowsy little woman who was Jimmy’s mother.
