by Margaret Way
'Rivalry. We're in competition, Ty.'
He laughed, with a genuine note of humour. 'Then you're about a foot too short. One of these days, Morgan, you'll come to it. There's great power and dignity in being a woman. All the satisfaction anyone could want.'
They flew to Tyson's Landing on the day the flying padre was due in to conduct a baptism. The baby was the five- month-old daughter of Bob and Sara Weston. Bob worked as a stockman, capable and ambitious and wanting to move up the line, Sara had taken over the job of cook for the men. All demonstrated their affection by calling off work for the time Padre Luke Stevens took to conduct the ceremony out in the beautiful bush setting, using the water from the deep, sparkling lagoon nearby.
Afterwards the padre preached a short sermon, more a message of hope, and Morgan and the girls escorted him back to the homestead where a delicious afternoon tea was waiting. The padre had developed a wonderful relationship with his far-flung Outback congregation, spanning fifty thousand square kilometres and including hundreds of cattle stations and a dozen small communities and mining settlements. Padre Luke was a huge man, standing some six feet four, not overweight but marvellously fit. In manner and appearance he would have been noticed anywhere, his light-filled blue eyes and his silver head and full beard instantly conjuring up visions of the disciples. He was exceptionally kind, wise and tolerant, but equally well he could subdue the wildest, crudest-mouthed cowhand with a single glance, as he had had so many times. Padre Luke was a household name in the Outback and nothing was more important to him than looking after his flock. He had visited Jahandra countless times, carrying out his ministry, but he had never converted E.J. Neither had he officiated at E.J.'s funeral. The vicar from a distant town had been flown in to do that, but Padre Luke was not offended.
'Of course, E.J. wasn't one of my successes,' he said. 'He never would accept me, even if he never refused me access to the station. One couldn't call him a normal man. He went out of his way to present himself as badly as he could. But I'm not here to judge him. I include him in my prayers.'
It hadn't been E.J. who had contributed to the appeal to buy the padre a new plane, either. Most of the money had been contributed by the Church and the remainder from the community, including a very large donation from the Hartland family of Tyson's Landing.
Morgan found a few moments to talk to the padre alone. She looked on him as a friend, and now she wanted the benefit of his wisdom.
'You've heard of E.J.'s will?' she asked, as they strolled down to feed the black swans in the lagoon.
'And naturally you're upset,' the padre said in his deep, resonant voice.
'Yes,' Morgan acknowledged freely. 'Especially when the main factor has been overlooked. I am E.J.'s only grandchild. Naturally I expected Jahandra at least to myself.'
'And how did you expect to administer it, Morgan?' asked Padre Luke mildly as the swans sailed expectantly towards them,
"I'm an intelligent woman. I've grown up on the job.'
'Well, you certainly impress me. You impress us all but, Morgan, I want you to give this truly objective thought. Running the Hartland empire will be an awesome job. No time off for babies, or rearing them. I know you'll want to marry, and calling to mind your own sad childhood I know you will want to devote yourself to your children, I can see by that small, expressive face that you've taken Ty's elevation over you as a deep personal insult.'
Morgan nodded. 'I even wonder if Ty and E.J. didn't work the whole thing out in private.'
'On the contrary, my dear, I think the whole clan was floored! The hostility between E.J. and Ty was the talk of the Outback. I can promise you Ty had no idea E.J. would arrange things as he did.'
'Then why did he, Padre?'
Padre Luke turned to look down on her. 'I don't think it had anything to do with you, or Ty, All E.J. really cared about was the empire he had built up. Badly as he treated Ty, he would have had complete confidence in his ability to take over.'
'Agreed. What you're saving is. he didn't have that same confidence in me.'
'Now, now, my dear. My own view is, E.J. would not have left anything of any importance to any woman, let alone you. No matter how capable or confident you know yourself to be, E J. was one of that sad breed of men who devalue women. That in itself accounted for a lot of his own unhappiness, and he was an unhappy man, Morgan, for all his overbearing, domineering manner. The thing is he didn't associate power with a woman. Power is for men. You must have known that.'
'Of course I did, but for all the harshness of his behaviour I never thought for one moment he would leave things this way. Ty has control of Jahandra. He even has half of the homestead.'
'Perhaps the resolution of the problem would be for you two to marry,' Padre Luke suggested jocularly.
'Heavens, Padre, you must understand. Ty and I are totally incompatible.'
He looked at her in astonishment. 'Incompatibility is not what I see. You've been enjoying your rivalry all these many years.'
'No, no!' Morgan shook her head.
'Ah, well, eventually you'll see the truth of it. I suspect you're deliberately blinding yourself, Morgan. It's time you abandoned a man's work and started to take pleasure in your feminine nature. The way E.J. reared you has led to some confusion. You've got your norms all mixed up. Sandra mentioned you might fly down to Sydney with them. Knowing you so well, I wouldn't expect you to turn into a social butterfly, but it's only natural to gratify the feminine impulses. You're a beautiful young woman. I'm sure we'd all enjoy seeing you in a dress. No matter who E.J. left the running of his empire to, and obviously he was convinced Ty was the man, very properly he took good care of you. You can accuse him of not giving you outright control, but you cannot accuse him of indifference to your position as his only grandchild. I understand you have been left a very rich young woman. I know, too, you will realise that with great good fortune comes responsibility and service. Whose idea, for instance, was it to find me a new plane?'
'Well, the wings on the old one were just about ready to fall off.'
'Ty. Ty only has to open his mouth and that speeds things up enormously—and he puts money where his mouth is, as you know. E.J. was no great philanthropist, but Ty and the family have made many people's lives easier because of their great interest in our far-flung community. There's so much you could do now, my dear. Play a larger part.'
'Cecilia has suggested that. I'm coming round to it.'
'A marvellous woman. And this makes things difficult for her too, Morgan. I understand you're all going back to Jahandra.'
'There's no reason why we won't get on well, yet I understand what you're saying about Cecilia. She'll be giving up her home. I'll be giving up my home as well. I expect when Ty marries we'll all move out. Cecilia has sisters in Sydney. She was always talking about moving closer to them. The twins won't wish to spend their lives on the land. I'm the only one really who'll be displaced.
'You won't readily adjust to city life, I can see that.'
'I couldn't even build myself something small on Jahandra. When Ty marries, I'll move.'
'I wasn't aware Ty had anyone in mind.'
'What about Camilla Ogilvie?' Morgan burst out.
The padre nodded. 'I've heard about Camilla, of course. I hope she doesn't suffer too keenly, but I don't think Ty will want to spend the rest of his days with her. Strictly between you and me, and repeat it to no one, I think he's already made his decision.'
Morgan was dressing for dinner, trying to make an effort—that remark of the padre's about seeing her in a dress had rankled—when Sandra burst through the door of the adjoining sitting-room.
'Morgan, where are you?'
'Here.' For the first time in her life Morgan felt embarrassed by the inadequacies of her wardrobe. The white dress she wore, though still in good condition, was at least four years old and positively childish, not at all the sort of thing a young woman who cared for herself would wear.
'Guess who's here,' San
dra hissed, rushing to the window and peering out.
'I'm unable to say. Your circle of friends, unlike mine, is very wide.'
'It's Camilla!' Sandra exclaimed with a mighty sigh.
'Oh, how awful!' Morgan's expression signified she felt the same. 'Where did she spring from?'
'She drove over from Clifford Park. She's been staying with the family for a few days. Probably got the idea at the funeral. She's been waiting for us to get home.'
'Would it be all right if I don't come down to dinner?' Morgan asked.
'Of course you've got to come,' Sandra said forcefully. 'But not in that choir dress. You look pathetic. As if you don't belong to us at all.'
'I'm afraid you're right,' Morgan sighed. 'I'd got into the habit of wearing a uniform, day in and day out. E.J. was never much interested in what I wore.'
'I suppose he was unwilling to have a beautiful young woman right under his nose. E.J. was definitely weird. That's what makes it so wonderful Ty is so super. I don't think E.J. really heard about the twentieth century and women's liberation. You can't wear that, Morgan. Camilla will look terrific, as usual.'
'Good for her. I'm not in competition.'
'You can't let the side down, all the same. What a pity you're so short. The rest of us are so much bigger. Come down to my room and we'll try to find something. Maybe you could belt it up, blouse it, something. You might put on a little make-up as well. Your eyes would look enormous with eye-shadow and mascara. I don't understand you at all. Instead of emphasising your assets, you play them down, and even then I promise you you turn every male head. You can't come by that little sexy aura. You're born with it.'
Sandra's large, very feminine bedroom was a study in blue and white, a far cry from Morgan's huge, gloomy bedroom at Jahandra. Once she had asked if she could change the existing Victorian furniture for a beautiful French art nouveau suite in the attic—who had bought it?—but E.J. had turned her down flat. 'Stick to what you've got!' he had told her. For a very rich man E.J. had lived like a miser, which explained Morgan's lifestyle, but Ty's family were long established in the art of living well. The homestead had a warm and welcoming atmosphere. It had been beautifully decorated with many fine pieces, but first and foremost it was a comfortable family home. Sandra's bedroom was enchanting, as was Claire's on the opposite side of the hallway. Morgan had never seen such beautiful fabrics used on curtains and bedspreads and upholstery.
Sandra went to the huge walk-in wardrobe that housed her collection of clothes and accessories. 'Going to have a look?' she asked Morgan, looking back over her shoulder.
'Sure. I was just admiring your taste.'
'Mamma's. Same thing. Claire stole that antique brass bed, you know. It was supposed to be for me. I've got so much that suits my blue eyes, but of course yours are green. I want you to look good. Camilla is such a bitch. It really gets to her, this business between you and Ty.'
'What business?' Morgan marvelled at the racks of clothes.
Sandra paused in her search. 'None of us are too certain just what it is, but there's no question you and Ty spark each other off. Ah, here's something that might do.'
'I suppose so, if I were going down to dinner at the Regent,' Morgan said doubtfully.
'Don't be so silly. You can't stay dreary, you know. You might have worked up an image as a very bright girl, but no one was ever going to ask you where you bought your clothes. Where did you buy them, by the way?'
'Absolutely the cheapest place in town. I had to account to E.J. for every penny.'
'Miserable old darling. I suppose I shouldn't talk that way. He remembered us at the end. I suppose it's because we have the same name. Just imagine if you had been Marcia's child by another marriage. He wouldn't have left you a thing. Whew! It doesn't bear thinking about.'
Morgan took the dress. 'This is lovely, Sandra,' she said, holding the brilliantly printed silk dress in front of her, huge hibiscus flowers in green and pink and yellow on a white ground.
'Ungaro,' Sandra said carelessly. 'See how it picks up your eyes. Honestly, I could wrap you in anything. It's really extraordinary, but you remind me of someone out of the Ballet Russe. It's your slanting eyes. Quickly, try it on. You'll have to draw it up some way. A belt on the hips. The rest should be fine. I think Camilla has rather a cheek, turning up like this. I guess her ambitions are making her bold. Do you really think Ty has an interest in her?'
'Well, he told me he ought to be married to her by now.' Morgan's voice was muffled beneath the silk dress.
'He could have been teasing you,' Sandra suggested hopefully.
'I thought you just loved her. You and Claire.'
'Listen, we've come to know her better. She's an appalling snob. I hate that, and she can be really nasty about you. Both Claire and I have told her off along the way. She thinks you're very unusual.'
Morgan shrugged, turning towards the mirror. 'Maybe I am.'
'She says things about Marcia, too,' Sandra growled.
'Marcia?' Morgan turned in amazement. 'Why would she want to pick on Marcia? I doubt if she's laid eyes on my frivolous mother more than two or three times in her life.'
'Well, Marcia is an eyeful, you must admit. Too bad she's such a bad mother. Mamma says at the outset she was perfectly all right, but E.J. overpowered her, as he did everyone else. Probably after your father died she couldn't make the effort to fight him. There was no one better than E J. at putting a woman down, which is why we're all so proud of you.'
'This is news!' Morgan turned as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing. 'You're proud of me?'
Sandra nodded. 'The fact is, we were desperately unhappy E.J. cut you off from the rest of us. Mamma had some frightening confrontations with him. All for you. Didn't do a bit of good. In fact, Mamma actually stopped because not only was she making no impression, E.J. tightened up. Extraordinary what lies inside people. No wonder authors have no end of stories. There seems to be a drama in every family. Turn around, Morgan. I don't think you need do anything but gather it in to your waist. It's a bit long, but it suits you. You positively cannot wear those shoes.'
'I'll have to.'
'Maybe I can colour change them.' Sandra nibbled on her lip. 'You could look positively enchanting if you tried. Even in your terrible clothes, you have a certain style.'
'All those ballet lessons.' Morgan smiled. 'E.J. was selective about how he spent his money. Maybe he thought he would benefit by making me stronger. I went backwards after Marcia left me. All children are attached to their mothers, no matter what the maternal instinct.'
'But you sought her out?' Sandra sat back on the bed, looking at Morgan with sympathetic eyes.
'Wouldn't you?'
'I thank God every day for my mother,' Sandra said simply. 'If I had had to endure your life, heavens knows what I would have developed into. You have a marvellous capacity for fighting back. At the same time, I think you're fighting the wrong person' In the normal course of events women don't take over huge ventures. I'm not saying they can't, but surely we women derive our greatest pleasure and satisfaction from the natural female role? Almost all of us want family: a husband, children, running our own home. Some choose careers as all-important, but at some time they must wonder if they've made the right decision. Let's face it, Morgan, running what took more than one hundred years to build up won't be easy. Men care about business in a different way from women. What's a pleasure to Ty might prove a real headache for you. Don't make power the central part of your life.'
'I don't care about power, Sandy.'
'I think you do. Your upbringing directed you towards it.'
'Then E.J. cut me down.'
'To size.' Sandra smiled. 'What now, Morgan? E.J. made his decision. You can do nothing to change it. I understand your feelings of helpless rage.'
'I don't think you do, Sandy. There's a marked difference between me and you and Claire.'
'There's not the difference you'd like to believe. Let's look at ou
r main aim in life. I want to be loved. Do you?'
'Of course.' Morgan's tone was intense.
'Emotions are what is important. They make us happy or they make us suffer. Look at E.J.! He was one of the richest men in the country, yet happiness passed him by. What you really want is softening up. Won't you come to Sydney with us? Don't feel you have to do anything you don't want to. I know you don't like the party scene, but sometimes you've had fun. We'll choose carefully where we go and you're desperately in need of clothes. Don't you really want to enhance your appearance?'
Morgan smiled wryly. 'Now that you call attention to it, I do. I couldn't do much, you know, when E.J. was alive. He didn't like to see me wearing make-up, so there was no sense in subjecting myself to additional censure. I can see how good I look in this dress.'
