Tracing Invisible Threads

by C. Fonseca

  Alexa shook her head to dispel her dark mood. She didn’t want her grandmother getting upset. She met Eleanor’s soothing gaze before turning her attention back to Gran. “But isn’t it wonderful that we’ve finally cleared Mei-Li’s name, Gran? And the spirit of our ancestor can finally rest,” Alexa said gently.

  Gran bowed her head in a sage-like fashion and grasped the figurine that had hung with the locket on a chain around her neck for as long as Alexa could remember. “This was Mei-Li’s.”

  Alexa reached out and closed her trembling fingers around the tiny pendant, unable to speak for the emotion welling up in her throat. From the look in her grandmother’s eyes, Alexa knew without a doubt, this was one of her most precious possessions.

  Eleanor got to her feet, walked to Alexa, and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Alexa looked up, and their gazes locked. She’d never been surer of Eleanor. She’d never been more certain of their connection.

  “Reyna is not responsible for her grandfather’s deeds,” Gran said. “It must have been devastating for her family to lose Edith under those circumstances.” She stared at Alexa and sighed. “How on earth did you both figure it out?”

  “It was your granddaughter who joined the dots,” Eleanor said, winking at Alexa before turning to Gran.

  “How? How did you do that, Alexa?”

  Eager to tell her grandmother, Alexa moved to the edge of her chair. “Well, a friend of mine, Marita, was working at the Scienceworks Museum on an aircraft collection that had dials containing radioactive material. She learnt about the dial painters and wrote a song called ‘Radium Girls’ for her band, the Orbweavers,” Alexa explained. “We listened to the album on our way to Eleanor’s studio, and ‘Radium Girls’ started to play. Something just clicked, Granny, and everything fell into place.”

  “Well, I never. I can’t begin to tell you what this means to me. It must have taken a lot of hard work and persistence on both your parts. You’ve made this old woman very happy.” Gran was unable to choke back a sob. “I don’t even have my hankie.” She reached for the paper napkin and blew her nose.

  Alexa knelt in front of her grandmother and hugged her as she wept openly. As each tear rolled down Gran’s cheeks, Alexa imagined them carrying away the sorrow of all those years. Eleanor joined them, wrapping her arms around them both, and rested her cheek on the top of Alexa’s head. Tears welled in Alexa’s eyes, and it wasn’t long before they were all crying.

  All families had secrets. Her grandmother’s grandparents and the Hamptons had entangled the young child in a web of shame, and she’d carried the burden alone for most of her life. But it was never too late to learn the truth. With Eleanor’s arms firmly around Alexa, she knew it was never too late to put aside your fears and move forward.

  Gran blotted her eyes and started to giggle.

  Alexa met Eleanor’s worried stare with one of her own. Maybe it had all been too much for her grandmother.

  “Where is that ornamental cherry tree we brought to honour Mei-Li?” Gran asked.

  Still puzzled by her grandmother’s sudden change of mood, Alexa answered warily, “I put it out back in the shade, ready for us to transplant.”

  Gran started to push herself out of the chair. “Don’t look at me like that, darlings. Do you remember, Alexa, your mother’s favourite proverb?”

  Alexa laughed and sprang to her feet, offering her grandmother a steadying hand. “I do. It is scrawled on the inside cover of Mum’s notebook: The best time to plant a tree was twenty years ago. The second-best time is now.” Alexa had chosen the cherry tree because it would attract nectar-hungry birds, filling her mother’s garden with birdsong.

  “That’s right.” Gran swatted Alexa away and turned to Eleanor with a beaming smile. “You look like a strong young woman. Are you any good with a shovel?”

  Chapter 31

  Imperial treasures and happiness

  The short preparation time for Eleanor’s exhibition had been hectic and exhilarating, and now that opening night had arrived, Eleanor was a bundle of nerves. Fingers crossed everything ran smoothly. Her gaze was fixed on the stage when Alexa glided into view and stood at the lectern. The spotlight caught a flash of her white shirt under the aubergine coloured raw silk tux jacket and illuminated her face, giving her a bewitching aura.

  Alexa tapped the microphone, silencing the room, and Eleanor took a steadying breath. The moment had arrived.

  “On behalf of State Library Victoria, it is my great pleasure to welcome you to Queen’s Hall, this resplendent historical space, to officially open not one, but two new exhibitions.” Alexa’s rich, warm voice resonated over the crowd, clearing their murmurs to total silence—turning Eleanor’s insides to jelly. “Acquisitions and Highlights of the Lehmann Collection showcases a treasury of glass plate negatives documenting life in regional Victoria during the gold-rush period of the mid to late 1800s. Our other photographic exhibition is inextricably linked to the Lehmann Collection. Stepping Between Frames: A Journey through Generations is Eleanor Heysen’s first show since returning home.” Alexa smiled at the audience, her gaze scanning the entire room until it finally settled on Eleanor—who could have sworn Alexa winked at her. “Melbourne born Eleanor is an internationally renowned social documentary photographer. Due to a series of astounding circumstances, she and her late aunt, Helen Heysen, are responsible for the completion of the library’s Lehmann Collection of historical images.”

  Eleanor pinched herself to check if she was dreaming. It still felt unreal that she and Helen had been the catalyst for what they were celebrating tonight at this event.

  “As recently as 2012, one thousand seven hundred glass plate negatives were discovered in a garden shed in Ballarat.” Alexa placed her hand in the pocket of her pinstriped trousers. “When the Library acquired and restored the negatives, we found just five were missing.” Alexa paused, then removed her hand from her pocket, splaying her fingers. “Those five negatives were discovered in China by Helen Heysen and gifted to us by her family completing our rare photographic archive.” All around Eleanor, there was a widespread murmur from the guests.

  Eleanor’s father touched her elbow and whispered, “Imagine how proud and amazed Helen would be.”

  “She would.” Eleanor blinked and released a deep sigh. After carrying the burden for ten years about not meeting Helen in Beijing, after all the time she’d spent learning about the negatives and working on the exhibitions, her mother’s words had finally sunk in. Eleanor was not responsible for her aunt’s death.

  “Today, we honour and celebrate Heinrich Lehmann, an immigrant German prospector, and his photographers who had a vision to record the cities, towns, and people of gold-rush Victoria,” Alexa continued. “We extend our congratulations and gratitude to Eleanor Heysen, who pulled her exhibition together in just a few weeks. What a mammoth achievement.” Finding Eleanor again in the crowd, this time Alexa’s face lit up with a radiant smile, and Eleanor swooned. With a slash of red on her kissable lips, Alexa looked as if she’d stepped out of a 40s Vogue magazine.

  “Congratulations, Eleanor. Well done,” Patrick declared from where he stood on the other side of Grace.

  Eleanor felt her cheeks flush at the attention drawn her way. She knew Alexa’s speech almost by heart. But witnessing Alexa’s professionalism and poise as she stood on the podium in Queen’s Hall had Eleanor’s pulse picking up speed.

  “Hm-hmm.” Eleanor bit the inside of her cheek.

  Grace tugged the cuff of Eleanor’s shirt. “Isn’t she exquisite and smart? Her mother would have loved to see her up on the stage,” she said. “You look rather dashing tonight yourself, Eleanor.”

  “Thank you, Grace. I made an effort for a special occasion.” Eleanor looked down at her delicate flower-print shirt in crimson red and white, tucked loosely into the charcoal trousers Alexa had chosen for her in Castlemaine. When they
’d briefly met before the event began, Alexa’s gaze had roamed lazily over Eleanor, and the look she gave her had sent shivers up her spine.

  “Imagine my disbelief when Eleanor Heysen appeared in my office,” Alexa said, rolling her shoulders back in that self-assured manner Eleanor adored, “with an exquisitely carved Chinese dragon box, the contents of which were a revelation.” She clasped her hands together on the lectern. “Carefully ensconced inside its red velvet lining were the Lehmann Collection’s missing five glass plate negatives.”

  “Imagine her surprise when Eleanor turned out to be the missing piece of her heart,” mumbled someone standing nearby.

  Somebody else tittered, “Finally.”

  Eleanor recognised Louise’s whispered tone. From their high spirits, she was positive Kelly and Louise had enjoyed more than a glass or two of bubbly. Eleanor shook her head with a smile.

  The enticing, smoother-than-honey tone in Alexa’s voice drew Eleanor’s attention back to the stage. She had no need for alcohol right now. Eleanor was intoxicated enough by the sight and sound of Alexa.

  “The coincidences and connections became even more extraordinary when we discovered that one of the new slides, depicting a Chinese gentleman sitting beside a herbalist box, was in fact my great-great-great-grandfather Guãn Li-Shen.” Alexa paused as a collective gasp reverberated through the room. “He had travelled from China to Australia in 1855 to fossick for gold.”

  Eleanor beamed with pride. The guests seemed to absorb every word and watch Alexa’s every gesture as she cleverly wove the threads of the two stories together.

  “Eleanor’s exhibition in the Victorian Gallery skilfully showcases a ten-metre-long image that forms the backdrop to Stepping Between Frames. It is one of the photographer’s landscapes from her travels in China. The muted scene, like a brush painting in greens and blues, explores the interconnection between photography, painting, Chinese calligraphy, and poetry.”

  Grace nudged Eleanor. “Thank you for sneaking me in for a private viewing before the speeches,” she whispered.

  Eleanor gently nudged her back. “I had to get your seal of approval before my exhibition opened to the public. It is about you and your family, after all.”

  “I’m just so happy you managed to incorporate one of Mei-Li’s poems into the mural. You’re so clever.”

  Eleanor squeezed Grace’s hand. They’d both shed a few tears when she’d walked Grace through the exhibition.

  Alexa placed her hand on her chest, over her heart. “Suspended to the forefront of Eleanor’s mural, the viewer steps in between fifteen black and white portraits that trace the genealogy of my family—from Guãn Li-Shen to his daughter Mei-Li, who also practised as a Chinese herbalist until the 1920s. Her son William played football for Melbourne University, became an engineer and a Queensland lychee farmer, and his daughter, my grandmother Grace West, was a magazine columnist in the 50s and 60s. Especially dear to me is Eleanor’s photograph of the enchanting garden in the gold-rush town of Chewton that belonged to my late mother, Eloise Bellamy.”

  Grace leaned heavily into Eleanor’s side, and Eleanor put a steadying arm around her small frame. Although Grace’s eyelashes were moist, her face was alight with joy.

  Alexa hesitated a moment, then smiled that dazzling smile that came from deep within and melted Eleanor’s heart. “Imagine my amazement when, soon after my Chinese ancestry was disclosed, came the biggest shock of all—that the very same herbalist box belonging to Guãn had been passed down through the generations to my grandmother, who kept it secure for all these years in the attic of her Fitzroy home.”

  Eleanor squeezed Grace’s shoulder. Grace and Alexa had agreed not to disclose the reason why the box had been hidden away. Mei-Li’s trial and the unjust way she and the family had been treated was the subject of a paper Alexa would present at the Immigration Museum Conference early next year. They saw no reason to complicate things just yet.

  “The library is indebted to Museum Victoria for preparing this precious 150-year-old herbalist box at short notice. When you’ve had a chance to view the exhibition, you will see it on display. An exquisite medicine box that contains vials and potions that came from China and was then photographed with its owner in Castlemaine. We may never know why the five negatives were in Helen Heysen’s possession, but now they rest here safely in the library.” Alexa stared directly into the audience. “Each of the slides in the entire Lehmann Collection tells stories about families and places that quite likely touch on your ancestors also.”

  A gentle sob escaped from Grace, and Eleanor felt her own eyes mist.

  “Eleanor,” her mother whispered in her ear. “Your exhibition is phenomenal. I’m so proud of you. Sorry I gave you such a hard time about your visits to the library and the goldfields.” She stepped closer, and their hips touched. “Alexa is an excellent public speaker. Half the room are reaching for a handkerchief. She’s a sweetheart, too.”

  Ever since that night at the hospital, things had changed for Eleanor and her mother, and Eleanor was still getting used to it. Even now, her mother’s praise of her work made her beam with pleasure. And her mother’s approval of Alexa? That was just the icing on the cake.

  In front of them, Leo stood with one arm around Stella’s waist. He turned to Eleanor and winked.

  Eleanor smirked in return.

  The lighting in the hall dimmed, and Alexa stepped away from the lectern. “Sometimes family secrets are concealed over generations, for tens, even hundreds of years.” Alexa’s voice had lowered to a rich, melodious tone. “Imagine if the Lehmann Collection from the 1870s—almost as old as Australia’s photographic history—had never been found. This time capsule of life during such a turbulent period in our history would have been lost forever.”

  Alexa turned around to face a 3D hologram that appeared like magic in the void. A photo Eleanor had taken of Grace and Alexa holding the herbalist box in Grace’s home levitated metres above the stage. Grace grabbed Eleanor’s arm and gasped. Eleanor grinned; clearly, she’d captured the moment perfectly. Alexa was smiling in disbelief, and the joy on Grace’s face was indescribable. Slowly, the original images that Eleanor had transformed of Guãn, Mei-Li, William, and Eloise also appeared.

  Alexa raised her arms above her head, and a projector hidden somewhere in the room cast a sinewy shadow of her onto the wall, connecting the images. Eleanor had been at each rehearsal closely liaising with the multimedia hologram company and the event planner to make this happen. However, experiencing the whole thing tonight was out of this world, surreal.

  “Part of my family tree.” Alexa spun around to face them as the guests began to clap.

  Wonderstruck, Eleanor stared, photographing Alexa with only her eyes.

  * * *

  At the mezzanine level, Alexa took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and guided Eleanor through into the dimly lit space that housed the library’s chess collection. Amazingly, everything had gone like clockwork—even the holograms appeared on cue without a glitch—and tonight had been one of the highlights of Alexa’s career. But now, Alexa wanted nothing more than to focus fully on Eleanor. She quickly closed the door behind them with a quiet click.

  Alexa leaned against one of the huge fluted Corinthian columns, smiling at Eleanor’s awed expression as she walked over to the balustrade and peered over. The melodic strains of the string quartet competing with muffled voices and the tinkling of glasses drifted up from the grand hall.

  “Fantastic view from up here. What an unbelievable evening it’s been.” Eleanor turned to face Alexa with wide eyes. “Wow…”

  Wow, indeed. That one simple word said it all. Alexa didn’t want the feeling to end. The giddy, heady sensation that made her feel as if her feet weren’t touching the ground. Really, it was all about Eleanor. The all-encompassing love she experienced just being around her.

  “How lon
g had Queen’s Hall been closed?”

  Alexa had to think for a moment. Sometimes Eleanor’s enthusiasm and thirst for knowledge took her by surprise. “To the general public? Sixteen years.”

  “I remember there used to be amazing chandeliers. You could almost reach out and touch them.” Eleanor leaned dangerously over the black metal balustrade with her arm outstretched.

  Alexa dragged her back and wrapped her arms around Eleanor, pulling her close. “No superhero stunts for you tonight, darling.” She smiled, remembering Eleanor’s dash to rescue the boy caught on the library staircase. Alexa dipped her head, nuzzling the back of Eleanor’s soft hair, breathing her in. Her heart was at bursting point, filled with passion and pride for Eleanor.

  Eleanor turned a half circle in Alexa’s arms. “Have you finished your official responsibilities for the evening, Ms Bellamy?” She moulded herself into the curves of Alexa’s body. “Or are you still on duty?”

  Alexa moaned in response, wishing she could stay in Eleanor’s arms forever. “Ninety-nine-point-nine percent done. But we do have to go back down and mingle for a short while. Do you mind?” she asked.

  “Not as long as you are in my sight.” Eleanor raised her eyes to meet Alexa’s gaze and grinned.

  For a few seconds, Alexa was lost in the depths of Eleanor’s eyes, and she sighed deeply.

  Eleanor seized the opportunity and softly caressed the sensitive skin of Alexa’s neck with her lips. “How private is this space?” she asked with a husky moan.

  “I locked the door, but not at all private.” Alexa choked back a gasp as Eleanor’s fingers slipped under her jacket, along her stomach, and up to her breast. Alexa dropped her mouth to Eleanor’s ear, taking the lobe between her teeth and biting down gently. “If you keep doing that, I won’t care if those dancing beams of light bouncing around the room illuminate us or if three hundred people hear my cries.”

  “All the more tempting, don’t you think? When we’re together in the library, something magical happens,” Eleanor whispered. She pressed her hip into the junction of Alexa’s thighs, and a slow burn of desire curled through Alexa.