‘We aren’t identical twins,’ she replied. ‘But if you look closely enough the similarities are there.’ She fell silent, remembering those terrible few moments following Jessie’s pronouncement.
Bewilderment and pain had accompanied the heavy silence as she and Maggie stared at their reflections in the mirror of that tiny house in Port Douglas. Without conscious thought they’d reached for one another, their fingers intertwining – re–establishing the ties so cruelly severed all those years before.
‘How is it none of us realised the connection?’
His voice sounded distant, and Olivia had to drag herself back to the present. ‘There was no reason to,’ she said quietly, her fingers idly trawling through the dust on the mantelpiece. ‘We were two young women from opposite sides of the world, with very different back–grounds.’ She brushed her hands together and folded her arms tightly around her waist.
‘But you guessed the connection was closer than Maggie realised?’ Giles turned from the window, his face in shadow as the sun streamed into the room behind him.
Olivia tried to keep her tone measured. Talking about those days still made her emotional. ‘Only in hindsight.’ She shivered, despite the warmth from the fire and the thick cardigan Maggie had knitted for her. Hot tears threatened and she busied herself by emptying the ashtray into the fire and plumping cushions.
‘Leave that and sit down,’ said Giles firmly as he took her by the arm and forced her on to the couch. ‘Here. I don’t suppose you have a handkerchief as usual. Use mine.’
Olivia took the square of carefully ironed linen and dabbed at her eyes. This was more like the gruff, bluff Giles she remembered, and although he was making sure he kept his distance, the old familiarity of his tone somehow gave her renewed strength. ‘None of this would have been resolved if it hadn’t been for Jessie. Thank God we found her.’
‘It’s an extraordinary coincidence she should turn out to be Sam’s mother–in–law,’ said Giles from the far end of the couch.
Olivia blew her nose and balled the handkerchief in her lap. She gave him a watery smile, wishing he wouldn’t sit quite so far from her. ‘Not really. People don’t move about as much in Queensland as they do here, and of course the population is smaller. Ties through blood and marriage are interconnected, forming a confusing genetic network that probably weaves right through every state in Australia if anyone bothered to do the research.’
The silence was broken only by the soft cooing of the pigeons in the eaves as they sat there, distanced by the length of the couch and the memories of their last encounter.
Olivia tucked the handkerchief into the belt at her waist. ‘Maggie took it hard,’ she said finally. ‘The realisation of what Irene had done almost broke her.’
‘Poor Maggie. One does have to feel very sorry for her.’ Giles’ voice was soft with compassion, for he’d liked and admired Maggie.
Olivia sniffed and dabbed her nose again. ‘Maggie looks for pity from no–one. She’s a tough sheila, my twin, and if she heard you feeling sorry for her, she’d sock you in the eye.’ The fleeting ghost of a smile touched the corners of her mouth. ‘But she did take it hard, and there was a hefty price to pay for what Irene did to her.’
‘Why? What happened?’ Giles sat up, his expression concerned.
‘She wasn’t right when we got back to Trinity, but it was worse after the funeral. Just as we thought she was getting better she had a breakdown. She shut herself away in that cabin of hers, eating barely enough to keep a sparrow alive and refusing to talk to anyone but Sam. He was like a man possessed. Every spare minute he had was by her side, coaxing her to eat, to talk – to cry. She’d shed no tears, shown no emotion following the day of Jessie’s revelation and we both feared for her sanity.’
Olivia stood up and began to pace – it was impossible to remain still when remembering those awful weeks when she and Sam had thought they might lose her. ‘She refused to see me, and I can understand why. After all, I was the favoured twin – the chosen one who grew up surrounded by love and comfort – while she… She lived through a hell I can only imagine.’
‘A difficult situation,’ mumbled Giles with his customary English habit of understatement.
‘Far more difficult for Maggie,’ Olivia said firmly. ‘She had to come to terms with being rejected at birth – to being separated from her twin – to being the loser in a heinous game of chance. To her it was the worst betrayal, and even though she attended Irene’s funeral, it was through no sense of loyalty or regret – it was to make sure the bitch was well and truly buried and incapable of hurting her any more.’
She used the handkerchief briefly before jamming it back under her belt. ‘But Maggie’s made of sterner stuff than to let Irene kill her spirit. She got better – slowly, but surely – and we were able to begin to establish a closer bond.’ She grinned. ‘We discovered we’d both had imaginary friends as kids. That we both loved chocolate and hated carrots. That our favourite colour was blue and we were both handy with a needle. Neither of us can sing to save our lives, but we can dance any man off his feet.’
Giles grinned. ‘I can certainly confirm the latter two. Eardrums and toes both shattered at some point or another.’
They smiled at one another – the first tenuous signs of the distance growing shorter between them, and Olivia experienced a flutter of hope.
‘You’ll get to see both Maggie and Sam if you stick around for a couple of days,’ she said softly. ‘They came with me, even though they’re on honeymoon. I left them up in town, but they’re due to visit here tomorrow.’
She saw the cocktail of hurt and pleasure, of chances lost in his eyes and turned back to the mantelpiece. Eva was staring back at her from the photograph in the silver frame. Her gaze was wistful, her thoughts unreadable. It was only now, in hindsight, that Olivia could understand why Eva had never been able to forgive Irene for what she’d done. Only now could she interpret the sadness she had sometimes seen in Eva’s expression when she thought she was unobserved.
‘Did you ever discover how or why Irene made such a terrible choice?’
She turned from the photograph and faced him. ‘She only needed one of us – two would have been over–egging the pudding somewhat. I was kept because I was easier to handle and more likely to be attractive to our errant father. Who, by the way, sounds a complete bastard, and I hope I never have the misfortune to meet him.’
‘Olivia!’
Giles’ shocked expression at her ripe language actually made her smile. ‘Sorry if that offends your sensibilities, but that’s how I feel,’ she said as she rammed her hands into the pockets of her dress and stared defiantly back at him.
‘Fair enough, I suppose. But your time in Australia has certainly not mellowed you in any way. What ever would Eva have said to such language being used in her drawing room?’ Giles had the ghost of a smile playing around his mouth, and Olivia realised he was teasing her.
‘Under the circumstances I don’t think she’d mind.’
‘Oh, my dear girl,’ sighed Giles as he stood and held out his hand. ‘You have been through the mill, haven’t you?’
Olivia stepped willingly into the warm, familiar safe harbour that was Giles’ embrace. Her cheek rested on the lapel of his pinstripe suit and she heard the rapid tattoo of his heart. It echoed her own. ‘Would you ever consider coming back?’ she murmured into his shirt. ‘We could really do with a decent lawyer in Trinity.’
‘Like a shot if you were to ask me. Should never have left you in the first place.’
‘That’s settled then,’ she whispered as she snuggled closer. His hand was stoking her back, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. ‘Giles?’
‘Mm?’ His heartbeat was deep and reassuring in his chest and his fingers were working their magic at the nape of her neck.
Olivia wished he would kiss her. She
decided to risk this moment of pure delight by asking the question she’d come home to ask. ‘Giles,’ she began. ‘Is a girl allowed to change her mind about something really important – even if it makes her previous behaviour seem wanton and shallow?’
His lips were soft against her forehead, his moustache tickling her skin as he spoke. ‘Wouldn’t be a girl if she didn’t change her mind every five minutes,’ he whispered.
Olivia gently dug him in the ribs, pulled away just enough so she could look up into his eyes. ‘So, will you marry me then?’ she asked, the giggle rising in her throat.
‘Of course,’ he said solemnly. ‘But I reserve the right to name the day and purchase the ring. Women are far too liberated for their own good these days, and you should be ashamed of yourself, Miss Hamilton, for being so forward as to propose.’
‘Shut up Giles and kiss me,’ she growled.
Ever the courteous, English gentleman, Giles enthusiastically complied.
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1920. Having disobeyed the wishes of her aristocratic family, Lulu Pearson, a young and talented Tasmanian sculptress, finds herself alone in London in the wake of the Great War. The future is looking bright until, on the eve of her first exhibition, Lulu learns she has inherited a racing colt called Ocean Child from a mysterious benefactor, and she must return to her homeland to claim him.
Baffled by the news, Lulu boards a ship to Tasmania to uncover the truth behind the strange bequest, but it seems a welcome return is more than she can hope for. Unbeknownst to Lulu, more than a few fortunes ride on Ocean Child's success – it seems everyone from her estranged mother to the stable hands has a part to play, and an interest in keeping the family secrets buried.
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Undercurrents Page 38
