Silver Wattle (42 page)

We were sitting together on the terrace, a basket of fruit between us. I eyed the juicy strawberries and nectarines and wondered why Klara and Robert were intent on having their wedding before Christmas. They were causing everyone more anxiety. Klara had her graduation to think about too. She was going to perform in front of a public audience. The wedding date had been set for the following year but for some reason she and Robert had changed their minds.

‘Why don’t you leave the wedding arrangements to me,’ I told her. ‘I will take the place of Mother in making something lovely for you. And I will handle Mrs Swan too. What about Mary? Is she all right?’

‘Mary is being a darling,’ said Klara. ‘She wants to make our cake.’

‘That’s lovely,’ I said. ‘What kind?’

Klara’s mouth twisted to a wry smile. ‘The six-tiered kind.’

We both laughed. A magpie landed in the leaf litter and regarded us with its dark eyes.

‘I think magpies are magical birds,’ I said. ‘Their black and white feathers are plain compared to the beautifully plumed lorikeets and rosellas. But when you look at a magpie—one on one—they transform: their personality shines through.’

‘Has Uncle Ota told you about Angel?’ Klara asked me.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘She has another joey. She is a busy mother.’

A change came over Klara’s face.

‘Is there something you want to tell me?’ I asked her.

Klara tilted her head back so the filtered sunlight danced over her skin. ‘You are going to be an aunty,’ she said.

I sat up. ‘What?’

‘The baby is coming in June.’

I was too stunned to speak. I loved Klara and was happy for her, but this was too much at once. She was getting married, graduating and having a baby all in less than a year. She had assured me that she had been well since the night before my wedding when she’d had the attack of chills, but she was still pale. I wondered how she had fallen pregnant when I had been watching her so closely. Freddy and I went almost everywhere that Klara and Robert did, and she had been living in my house.

Klara was not an immodest girl and she blushed deeply. It was not the done thing to get pregnant before one was married.

‘Are you disappointed with me?’ she asked.

I stood up and put my arm around her shoulders. I could not judge her because the same thing could well have happened to me and Philip all those years ago, and at least she and Robert were officially engaged. ‘Not at all. I am very proud of you.’

Klara pressed her cheek to mine. ‘I am so lucky you are my sister,’ she said.

Ranjana called me each week to report on Thomas’s progress. Philip had given him a cyclical course of hot baths, physiotherapy and rest. From the way she spoke from the first day of his treatment, it was clear she thought that Philip was a miracle worker.

‘Already, I can see an improvement’ she said. ‘And Thomas told me on the way home that the pain is gone.’

I could not have been happier for Thomas. I loved him and I was sure that Philip would help him as he had promised. But Ranjana had no idea how she was unsettling me.

To avoid thinking about Philip, I locked myself away in the morning room every day and worked on a new script until Freddy came home in the evenings. Freddy had told me that the success of
In the Dark
would attract more investors for this next film. I wanted to pull all the stops out now and produce something not only visually stunning but remarkable in every way. I wanted my next picture to be a masterpiece.

When I had completed the first draft, I asked Hugh to meet me at the Vegetarian Cafe so I could run my idea by him before talking to Freddy. My husband was the best judge of whether a story was appealing or not but I wanted to talk to another artist first.

Hugh and Giallo were already in the cafe when I arrived. No sooner had I sat down and ordered a chicory coffee than Hugh begged me to tell him about the script.

‘I don’t want to give you tickets on yourself, Adela,’ he said, ‘but I’ve been itching to work with you again.’

I was flattered because since finishing
In the Dark
Hugh had shot a feature film in Tasmania with a Hollywood director and had worked on documentaries in the Outback.

‘I am slow,’ I said with a smile. ‘I am not exactly what you call “prolific”.’

Hugh shrugged and Giallo went up and down with the movement. ‘Art takes time. So what is the new story about?’

I put aside my cup. ‘It is about a ten-year-old boy who has been crippled by polio and is convalescing in a rest home,’ I began. ‘The boy had been athletic and is despairing of life because the doctors have told him that he will never walk again. In the garden of the home there is a bevy of peafowl. One day, when the boy is out in the sunshine on his own in his wheelchair, a peacock with beautiful plumage catches his eye. The boy calls to the peacock and is surprised when the bird turns into a man in fine clothes and a crown of emeralds. The man tells the boy that he is a prince and was born in a faraway place called the Emerald Valley where humans and animals live together in harmony.’

I checked that I was not boring Hugh. Freddy said I should learn to summarise my ideas in two sentences but it was impossible for me to do. I either had to give the full explanation or none at all. I was pleased to see Hugh was pursing his lips, which I knew was a sign he was thinking about how the story would develop visually.

I continued. ‘One day, an evil spirit from another valley, the Valley of Darkness, stole away the princess that was promised to him in marriage and turned him into a peacock. For one hour a day, the prince can regain his human form but this has not proved sufficiently long for him to travel to the Valley of Darkness to save his princess. He asks the boy if he will help him. The boy doesn’t think he can, but in the prince’s presence he finds that his wheelchair turns out to be a flying carriage. The prince and the boy have adventures together and eventually save the princess. When they triumph, the boy is given a special celebration in his honour in the Emerald Valley.’

I paused to see if what I had said so far had made any impact.

Hugh shifted in his seat. ‘How does it end?’ he asked. ‘Are you going to tell me or make me wait?’

‘I will tell you,’ I said, with a triumphant smile. ‘The boy later awakens to find himself in his wheelchair in the convalescent home’s garden. The nurses think he has been sleeping but the adventures the boy shared with the prince are real to him. Although he now accepts that he will never walk again, the boy has a new vision: he will find a way to do good in the world and make his life count for something.’

If Hugh had burst forth with a flurry of words in response to the script, it would have been out of character. I searched his face for the signs I knew from working with him that told me when he thought something was good. I was pleased to see him tap his fingers on the table, twitch his mouth, and cock his head. He was itching to work with me all right.

‘When do we start?’ he asked.

‘I have to discuss it with Freddy first. Early in the new year if we can.’

Hugh and I stayed at the cafe for another hour and talked about Thomas. I knew that Hugh had been spending some time at the house, and I appreciated his care for my cousin but worried about the effect his visits might be having on Esther. The last time I saw her she was looking even dowdier than when I had first met her.

‘You believe in ghosts, don’t you?’ Hugh asked me.

I nodded. ‘I see them. Not often, but often enough to know they are there.’

‘There’s one that lingers around Esther’s house,’ he said.

My spine tingled. Hugh was the least superstitious person I knew. ‘Did you see…something?’

He hissed out a breath. ‘I thought that was all hocus-pocus, but I’ve seen him three times now. A young bloke in military uniform.’

I did not respond. I did not want to prompt him.

Hugh looked at me. ‘The first time, I spoke to him. “G’day, mate!” I said. That was before I realised I could see right through him.’

‘Did he say anything back?’ I asked.

Hugh shook his head. ‘He just stared at me as if he wanted something.’ He glanced at his hands then back at me. ‘What do you think he wants?’

I hesitated, wondering what I should tell him. I thought if I said it was Louis looking out for Esther that it might only alienate Hugh from her further. Speaking to ghosts sometimes sent them away, and I did not want to encourage him to try any more conversations.

‘He is just watching over things,’ I said. ‘He is probably someone who lived in the street or visited it often.’

Hugh shook his head. ‘Poor bugger. And I thought I was unlucky losing my leg.’

My heart lightened with Hugh’s words. It was the first time he had sounded grateful rather than bitter. I wondered what had changed him. Perhaps it was looking after Thomas. I remembered what Klara had told me about how helping another living being brought healing to oneself. But how was it Hugh could see Louis and yet not see the butterfly?

After wishing Hugh goodbye, I walked down George Street towards Circular Quay to catch the ferry. It was Freddy’s birthday and he was coming home early so we could go to a restaurant for dinner. I glanced at my watch. I was running late and would have to hurry. I had only walked a short distance when someone called out to me.

‘Adela, is that you?’

I turned around. Philip was standing on the opposite side of the street. The wind was ruffling his hair. His teal-blue coat matched his eyes.

My heart thumped in my chest. Philip crossed the street and walked towards me. There was no recrimination in his face and I guessed he knew why I had not gone back with Thomas to his rooms.

‘Thank you for all you have done,’ I said.

My words were sincere. I would be grateful to Philip forever for what he had done for Klara and now Thomas. But my compliment was a defence too; I did not want the conversation to turn to us.

‘Where are you headed?’ Philip asked me.

I nodded towards the Quay.

‘That’s right, you live in Cremorne now. Can I walk with you?’

I caught my breath, then answered, ‘Of course.’

We headed in the direction of the Quay. The sun was setting and the breeze from the harbour was cold. Yet I felt warmth emanating from Philip’s body as he walked beside me, just as it had the day he sat beside me in the teahouse at the Botanic Gardens.

‘How’s Freddy?’ he asked. ‘Still working for Galaxy Pictures?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Life has taken us in strange directions, hasn’t it, Adela?’

I stopped and turned to him. I could not bear the sadness in his eyes. What had happened with Beatrice? She had him and now she had rejected him. Why had she not left him to me in the first place? We could have been so happy together.

‘Freddy told me Beatrice did not come back with you,’ I said, lowering my eyes. ‘I am sorry. You of all people deserve to be happy.’

‘Do I?’ Philip asked quietly.

‘Why, yes,’ I said. ‘You do so much good work for the sick. You should be with someone who cherishes you.’

What I had told him was heartfelt but I had to be careful not to mislead him. I was a married woman and I could do nothing more for him than offer my sympathy.

Philip flinched but said nothing. We strode on to the Quay. The Cremorne ferry was already in port and passengers were heading up the gangway. There would be another ferry in half an hour. I wished I could miss this one and spend more time with Philip but I was already late. And I knew the truth: if I did not get on that ferry, I would betray Freddy’s trust. For when I stood next to Philip I felt things that I had never experienced so ardently for my husband: my skin was tingling with life and I was dizzy with desire. I longed for Philip to take me in his arms and kiss me. But he and I were honourable people. Honour was what we clung to when everything else in our lives fell apart. That was why he had married Beatrice although he did not love her. Why he did not leave her for me.

Philip must have sensed my hesitation to board the ferry. His breathing was shallow and his eyes were steady on me. I only had to weaken for a moment and we would both be lost to our passion. There were a few passengers left to board. A boy was helping an old lady up the ramp, sparing us a few more minutes.

‘You still love me, don’t you, Adela?’ Philip asked.

I nodded. I could not bring myself to look in his eyes. I twisted the wedding ring on my finger.

‘But you love Freddy too, don’t you?’

‘Beatrice did you a terrible wrong,’ I said, my voice a whisper.

‘All aboard for the ferry to Cremorne,’ called out the deckhand. A lady carrying a child pushed through the gate and shouted to the deckhand to wait a moment. We still had a few seconds’ grace.

Philip and I looked into each other’s eyes.

‘Lady, are you coming or not?’ the deckhand called out to me.

‘You’d better go,’ Philip said.

I turned in the direction of the gangway. My heart felt as if it was being torn to shreds. My legs trembled when I stepped onto the ramp. My body was so heavy that if I had slipped into the water I would have sunk like a weight.

I glanced over my shoulder at Philip. His face was contorted with pain. I longed to relieve his agony, but I could not without hurting Freddy.

‘Come on, love,’ said the deckhand, untying the rope. ‘You’ve kept everyone waiting.’

I cried out when the deckhand pushed the gangway onto the wharf and a strip of churning water separated me from Philip. For one moment, I thought I might climb on the railing and throw myself into Philip’s arms. But a second later it was too late. The ferry lurched and moved from the wharf. Then, suddenly, the boat swerved to the dock and Philip’s face was only a few yards from mine. ‘I love you, Adela,’ he said. ‘But I will never hurt you or Freddy. You let me go once because you wanted to do the right thing by Beatrice.’

‘Where is your child?’ I asked him. ‘Is he with Beatrice in England?’

Tears came to Philip’s eyes. ‘There was no baby,’ he said. ‘It was a lie. A lie Beatrice told to get me to marry her quickly and to keep me away from you.’