Reaching for the Stars

by Lucy Walker

She felt a pang. Love seemed to her like a golden flower that could so easily have its petals bruised. At first sight Ann liked Luie better than Heather, but she was nervous of both of them. They were so at home here, so suntanned, open-air and attractive in their slim-fitting ‘stoves’ with the soft-leathered riding boots that looked more fashionable than durable. They wore silk shirt blouses, and like Claire, were so fair.

  Thinking of Claire, and that momentary insight that told her Luie Condon was in love with Lang, Ann remembered the two occasions when young men had become acquainted with her in London. She had liked them both, but one in particular. She might have given her heart to him ‒ this particular one. She had wanted to do that badly. That was how she had come to know that love could have its petals bruised.

  Claire had taken both young men from her. First one, when she was seventeen, and then later, only last year, the other. Claire had only to enter a room and men looked at her. After that, she had a way of seeing that they talked to her.

  Ann never knew how Claire did it but somehow he, the particular one, was gone and Claire was taking him to parties as her escort.

  Ann had been terribly hurt but had forced herself to get over it.

  It was all something to do with Claire’s tall fine figure, so supple and fluid in its movements; but mostly to do with the way she held her head and that crown of honey hair. She looked all golden ‒ always.

  These two girls here, in the Franklins’ lounge room, were not tall or elegant like Claire. They had something different but just as attractive ‒ the slim-limbed outdoor look ‒ and they were so fair one had to look at them twice. More than twice surely, if one were a man.

  Once again Ann was thankful she had Ross as a standby ‒ a good friend.

  ‘Lang dear! Pour me another drink.’ Heather’s voice was imperative and it demanded attention to herself.

  ‘Only because you are riding home, not driving home, Heather,’ Lang said and he began taking drinks from the refrigerator in the wall.

  ‘Frankly I was thinking of staying,’ Heather said lazily. ‘I’m sure your aunt needs help. Visitors in the house ‒ and all that.’

  ‘Aunt has Nellie, and now Ann,’ Lang said quietly. ‘Ann is not a “visitor-in-the-house-and-all-that”. She is a member of the family pro tem.’

  Luie laughed, a little too eagerly. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Lang! What does pro tem mean? You know I never went to school.’

  ‘I didn’t know, but I can guess.’

  They were joking with one another.

  ‘When you’ve all stopped wrangling over there,’ Ross said cheerfully, ‘do you think Ann and I could come across and join in? Our weapons, being rested, might be sharper.’

  ‘We’ll do it the other way round,’ Lang said. ‘The girls and I’ll come to you. The view is better through a window.’

  ‘Oh really, Lang,’ Heather said in her mesmerising voice. ‘Do you mean Luie and I aren’t worth looking at just because we’re in riding togs?’

  ‘Too much worth looking at. That is why it is better for all concerned to concentrate on the view through the window.’

  It was at that moment Mrs. Franklin came back into the room.

  ‘Ann,’ she said, ‘there is a cable from your aunt. They telephoned it through to me but it won’t come by hand till Lang picks it up at the post office on Monday. She wishes you ‒ Happy Landing.’

  ‘Oh, darling Aunt Cassie ‒’ Ann said. Her eyes misted, but she quickly blinked and smiled happily. ‘She would think of something as nice as that.’

  ‘There was something further about “Claire coming too” ‒ or was it possibly “joining-in too”?’ Mrs. Franklin went on.

  ‘My cousin!’ Ann said, startled.

  ‘The interference on the telephone line was dreadful. Though I asked the exchange to repeat the message several times I couldn’t quite be certain about the last part of it. I don’t suppose it is important or they would have told me to collect today.’

  ‘I’m sure it was just kind wishes from my aunt and my cousin,’ Ann said. ‘Thank you for telling me about it.’

  Claire coming? But it was not possible. The very idea of going to Australia had sent Claire into a rising crescendo of laughter. The message must have meant ‘joining-in’ with the good wishes.

  But if she did come? If Claire was coming …

  Ann glanced across the room at Luie Condon. The fair hair in a pony-tail, the mobile, sensitive face … She remembered Heather’s sophisticated: ‘Too many blondes around here anyway’.

  Ah, what havoc might Claire reap: and reap long and well.

  Ann shook her head to free a cobweb from her mind.

  Chapter Four

  Lunch, though very late because of the time consumed in driving up to the home in Kalamunda from the port, was a delightful affair.

  Small tables were placed about in the lounge by Nellie, the household help, and chairs were put by them. Everyone sat down and as the trolley came in laden with cold meats and a wonderful variety of salads and fruits, Lang came back.

  The whole lunch passed pleasantly. Heather and Luie were over their surprise at meeting Ann ‒ someone different from what they had expected. Or else they covered up their surprise very well in the interests of good manners and Lang’s approval.

  ‘If you can’t ride now, you soon will,’ Heather said to Ann across a bowl of fruit-salad. ‘There are hacks galore round here and I’ll teach you. Willing?’

  The ice seemed well and truly broken. Ann was delighted with Heather’s offer and readily accepted it.

  ‘If you can’t swim Luie will take you on for that pastime.’ Heather went on spooning ice-cream on to her plate of fruit. ‘We’ll turn you into a Darling Range champion in no time.’

  ‘Rather!’ Luie said. ‘When it gets hot enough we go down to the ocean for surfing. Surfing and water-skiing is a must …’

  ‘I can swim,’ Ann said, ‘though I’ve never tried real surf. I’d love to learn water-skiing.’

  ‘Watch out for the first six tumbles,’ Ross put in. ‘After that it’s simple.’

  The whole atmosphere seemed changed with the coming of the beautiful luncheon and the easing up of everybody’s manner now the first meeting with Ann was over.

  Ann wished she knew why she was a surprise to everyone. Now they all seemed so friendly.

  When she had known them long enough and well enough she would ask them.

  Lang sat only a few yards away from Ann and she couldn’t help noticing how long and strong were his hands as he let them rest on the table.

  ‘Tomorrow I’m working ‒ at home, probably,’ he was saying. ‘The law says I have to let the storemen staff go; and custom says I have to let the typists off. How about coming in and doing a stint at the typewriter for me, Luie? Didn’t someone tell me you both went to a business college? Was it only to pass the time while you were growing up?’

  ‘That’s right, Lang,’ Heather said. ‘Any excuse to get down to the coast daily. It was an escape from Papa and how to run an orchard efficiently though female. Fortunately I found something better than tapping keys to do.’

  ‘I’ll type for you, Lang,’ Luie said. ‘That is if you don’t mind spelling mistakes and no more than one typing error to the line.’

  ‘I think you’d better go surfing,’ Lang said at once.

  Mention of typing had given Ann a sudden lift. She could type, and she was very good too. The head girl in the typing pool at home in England had said she was excellent. Did Lang really want typing assistance or was all of this conversation no more than luncheon jesting? It might embarrass them all if she offered. She could perhaps tell Mrs. Franklin later, and in private.

  Ross, making the best of an excellent lunch, had been silent quite a time. Ann noticed he was now looking at Luie thoughtfully.

  ‘One typing error to the line!’ he said. ‘Well, if Lang couldn’t put up with it, I might, Luie. How about doing my reports for me when the sale is over on Monday?�
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  ‘I will,’ Luie answered brightly. She was naively pleased at being asked. ‘I can always get a professional typist to re-do them later ‒ when there’s time.’

  ‘I’m a typist,’ Ann said. The words were out of her mouth before she knew she would say them. ‘That is ‒’ The pink warmed in her cheeks as she realised this might look like boasting. Perhaps Luie was really a good typist. It was so hard to know when they were teasing, and if they were serious in anything they said. ‘What I mean is …’ she stammered, ‘I would like to help if anyone needs help.’

  Lang jerked up his head. A thought flashed through his mind but she could see he had already abandoned it by the time Mrs. Franklin put her word in.

  ‘You are not going to make use of Ann, Lang. I won’t hear of it. She must have her holiday first ‒’

  All Mrs. Franklin’s chilliness at first meeting appeared to be gone. She was a very nice-looking woman, with attractive brown eyes the exact colour of her hair, an aristocratic nose and a firm mouth. She was a tall woman and somewhat over-anxious in her manner. She was very particular about the small things in serving a luncheon. Twice she changed a spoon or a knife because she preferred a different one. She moved a bowl of flowers from the table in the corner to the top of the bar. She changed the glasses for the fruit drink from crystal to plain ones.

  ‘Crystal is quite in order for fruit drinks,’ she said. ‘But I never feel at ease with them. I prefer plain glass. Nellie doesn’t seem to be able to remember.’

  Lang stood up, smiled all round, and said: ‘Ross, stay put as deputy, will you? And keep the girls company. ’Bye Heather, ’bye Luie. Ann, will you excuse me? Business is urgent, in spite of my aunt’s displeasure about it.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Thank you for giving up so much of your time already.’

  He only smiled in reply to that, went to the door, remembered something he had forgotten, came back and pecked his aunt on the cheek and said: ‘Don’t leave the hall light on for me, Aunt. I might not get back till daybreak.’

  ‘Oh, Lang!’ she protested.

  He grinned as he lifted his hand in a salute, glanced round the room again, then went out.

  Ann felt again the loss of his presence. At the same time she knew everyone else felt that loss too. Even Ross was momentarily silent. This was not because Ross would not enjoy himself with so many girls but because Lang Franklin meant big business to him and the nearer he was to Lang the nearer a nice buying deal might come.

  After the late lunch there was little time for sight-seeing but Luie and Heather escorted both Ross and Ann round the Franklins’ orchard, showed them the stables, the garages, the engine room where the machinery was housed for pumping water up from the creek to the house, there to be reticulated round the orchard.

  They finished up the sunshine part of the day with a swim in the Franklins’ pool ‒ an enormous concrete basin built into a water-hole in the creek, with giant pots of creek ferns, hibiscus and tender willows.

  Later, when they were dried and dressed, Ted came round with the horses ready saddled up; and Luie and Heather set off for their own home.

  ‘Will ring tomorrow and see what goes on,’ Luie said gaily as she waved her hand and set her horse off in a trot towards the orchard rails.

  ‘Shall sleep off my exertions tomorrow,’ Heather said. ‘Have to start looking ornamental at the quiz show by seven in the evening.’

  ‘Quiz show?’ asked Ann, puzzled.

  ‘Yes. TV. Didn’t I mention I worked in TV? On Sundays too.’

  ‘No, you didn’t, but how exciting. I’d love to see you.’

  ‘Switch to Channel Nine at seven p.m. You will see, all right. ’Bye now.’

  When the two Condon girls had gone Ross apologetically made his excuses to Mrs. Franklin.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m a second Lang when it comes to a wool sale looming,’ he said. ‘I’ve a paddock of papers to go through, and the show floors of one or two of the small brokers need to be seen.’

  ‘Yes, of course, Ross. It was very good of you to give up the day. I hope your luggage went through the Customs and you’ll find it at your hotel. It was quite wrong of Lang to hold you up, but we’re grateful, aren’t we, Ann?’

  ‘Lang knew what he was doing,’ Ross said with a grin. ‘And it was easy to stick around with Ann on her first day in Australia. May I come again, Mrs. Franklin? I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.’

  When he said Lang knew what he was doing Ross winked at Ann; and Mrs. Franklin had not seen it.

  ‘Shall I get a car out from Kalamunda for you, Ross, or would you take Lang’s runabout?’

  ‘The runabout, I think. It will give me an excuse to come up to return it.’

  ‘Ann dear, perhaps you would like to walk round to the garages with Ross. Then you must come in and have a rest. Or better still an early dinner then early to bed. You must be very tired.’

  Ann was tired. She had had a wonderful day in spite of its doubtful start. So much had gone into it that it seemed to have lasted a week and not twelve hours.

  ‘I’ll walk round with Ross,’ she said. ‘I do want to thank him for being so kind. Then, I think, it’s early to bed for me if you will allow it, Mrs. Franklin. I am beginning to feel exhausted, in a happy way.’

  Mrs. Franklin watched the two walk away.

  ‘Well,’ she said to Nellie in the hall, helping to clear away the cool drink glasses and ashtrays, ‘nothing will come of that anyway. Ross isn’t in the State long enough. Still, he’ll be a useful walking-stick for her while Lang’s busy.’

  ‘He is a nice young man,’ Nellie said stubbornly.

  ‘Oh quite,’ Mrs. Franklin agreed, putting the lunchtime silver away in a special wall cupboard and taking out the second-best cruet for a tête-à-tête dinner tonight. ‘There are only two of us,’ she said, referring to the cruet. ‘Ann won’t mind. What was that you said about Mr. Dawson? Oh yes, he is a nice young man, Nellie. Quite presentable. He’s making use of Lang, too. Don’t overlook that. He would like very much to get first sight of Lang’s wool clip and we’re very well aware of it. He has nothing to lose by being pleasant to Ann. As long as he doesn’t overdo it, of course ‒’

  Nellie went on with her work.

  Meantime Ann watched Ross back Lang’s runabout out of the garage. He pulled up beside her.

  ‘So long, Ann!’ he said. ‘Thanks for being you. I’ve had a lovely day. Might be a profitable one, too.’ He grinned mischievously.

  ‘Thank you, Ross, for being such a friend.’

  He turned the car round, lifted his hand in a farewell wave, and sped off down the driveway, out on to the valley road. Ann, standing there by the garage, only half-conscious of the sun going down behind the wall of trees that stood sentinel ‒ rank upon rank of sapling jarrah ‒ on the other side of the valley, could hear the sound of his car fading away on the still, sundown air of the range.

  For quite some minutes she heard it. Then for the first time she found herself listening to the vast silence, the stirless trees and the moveless undergrowth of the immense Australian bush.

  As she turned, then went up on to the veranda, she patted the dog’s head. Lang had introduced them.

  ‘Jacko,’ he had said to the dog, ‘this is Ann. Don’t bark when she comes home; ever …’

  The dog, a kelpie, had wagged his tail with perfect understanding.

  Ann thought he was a lovely dog and said so. Jacko had gone on wagging his tail harder.

  Now, at the end of the day, with the visitors gone, Ann suddenly felt she had need of an impersonal friend like Jacko. Some other small anxiety was niggling at the back of her mind. It was about that telephone cable from Aunt Cassie. Ann was too tired to pin her mind to it. She had her first ordeal of dinner alone with Mrs. Franklin to face. No other anxiety could intrude on that.

  She bent down ‒ not very far, for the kelpie was not a small dog ‒ and patted him. His hazel intelligent eyes looked at her steadily but with obvious
pleasure.

  ‘Maybe you’ll tell me what it is all about one day, Jacko,’ she said.

  He wagged his tail. This was a clear affirmation of her belief in him.

  ‘See you later,’ she said, turning to go into the house.

  He agreed to that too ‒ with an extra wag of his tail. He lay down on the mat in front of the main door, put his nose between his paws, but only half-closed his eyes. The light shone on his black-and-tan coat. He was on guard already.

  Ann had a charming room with french windows looking out over the same aspect of the valley as could be seen from the lounge room. The furniture was lovely and old ‒ well-cared-for and highly polished. The chintz curtains were fresh and the small bowl of boronia flowers on her dressing-table filled the air with the sweetest perfume.

  She was so tired, when later that night she went to bed, she didn’t remember the exact drill of undressing, having a shower, cleaning her teeth and getting to the bed. She was too tired. She didn’t even remember very much about putting her head on her pillow, much less closing her eyes and literally passing out.

  It was only nine o’clock in the evening when she retired. Never did Ann remember having gone to bed so early; not since she was a child, at all events.

  Even her curiosity about Aunt Cassie’s cable had died a tired death.

  She slept deeply and dreamlessly.

  The moon came up over the valley and over the orchard. The temperature dropped twenty degrees as it always did at this time of the year.

  Half-consciously she stretched for the extra cover folded at the foot of her bed, and pulled it over her. Then her eyes opened wide for she remembered she was not at home and was in a strange new country eleven thousand miles away from it.

  How strange it all was. How wonderful the hill air. How breathlessly silent the whole world was. There was not a single sound anywhere … not inside or outside. She might be breathing in a void.

  Yet something had woken her, surely.

  It was the distant thrum of a car climbing the range ‒ far, far away.

  Ann lay on her back, her eyes wide open, and listened.

  The luminous hands on her little travelling clock, a present from Claire and Claire’s mother, told her it was four o’clock.