Absolution Creek (23 page)

The house was full of life, and after years of rambling about within its secure walls with just herself for company, it almost made Cora cheery. And Meg was more than she hoped for. She had taken to her new duties with careful efficiency under the watchful eye of Ellen. Now it remained to be seen how she would manage the homestead. It appeared the girl’s life had revolved around child-rearing and stacking shelves in a grocer’s shop. Not exactly the type of training conducive to being an independent woman. As for Sam, Cora’s initial disappointment had settled into a more amenable
wait and see
attitude. Harold’s work ethic and Sam’s resultant exhaustion had ensured early nights with none of the attitude he’d had the affront to address her with on his arrival. Just as well, for Cora Hamilton never carried anyone and she wasn’t about to now.

The sight of Curly with a ribbon around his neck and Tripod trussed up in something that looked like a nappy, certainly wasn’t the welcoming committee Cora expected at the back gate. Both dogs looked decidedly unhappy. Tripod in particular appeared most put out. He fell on his back at her approach, growling and biting at the offending red-and-white checked material. Curly on the other hand began a stint of head-shaking that she felt sure would disable him. Quickly disrobing both animals, Cora picked up a dog-chewed child’s skivvy from the dirt, noticing a trail of egg shells on the cement path. Kicking her boots off at the top step she soon realised that inside things were little better.

Jill and Penny were cooking.

A mountainous formation of flour sat on the sink and a line of yellow yolk seeped from the edifice and ran down the front of the white cupboard. Cora lifted a sock-covered foot from a mess of gluey flour on the floor and discovered a trail of tiny footmarks leading to the pantry.

‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph!’ Cora exclaimed when she opened the door. The girls were rummaging in the pantry, their discarded findings lying in a heap on the vinyl floor where they sat.

‘What are you doing?’ Cora demanded.

‘Nothing,’ Penny answered, shoving sultanas into her mouth.

‘Cooking,’ Jill replied proudly, wiggling a white finger into something brown and liquid on the floor.

‘Oh, Jill, please. Not the treacle,’ Cora admonished.

Jill held up a stained finger.

‘Where’s your mother?’

‘Catching the blasted rooster,’ Jill said solemnly, sticking her treacle-covered finger up her sister’s nose. Penny squealed and retaliated with a sharp pull of her sister’s hair.

‘And where’s your father?’

‘Mustering the bloody back paddock,’ both children replied.

It didn’t take long to find the girl’s mother. Meg, hair askew and scratches up the length of one arm, appeared at the back door. Outside the kitchen window, a rooster crowed. Considering there was only one on Absolution, Cora could only guess at what happened.

‘Harold will catch the rooster.’

‘You’re sure?’ Meg tucked stray bits of hair behind her ear. She looked as if she’d been climbing a tree. ‘The girls left the gate open and –’

‘Probably best if you’re with them until they get used to things,’ Cora suggested.

Meg glanced apologetically at Cora and sat the kettle on the stove.

‘The twins are in the pantry when you’re ready to deal with them.’

Meg moved towards the door.

‘If you don’t mind, Meg, you might save it for after I’m finished.’ Cora gratefully accepted the tea her niece made and swallowed two Bex powders with the scalding beverage.

‘Bread and jam?’ Meg offered.

‘Yes, I suppose.’

Meg placed strawberry jam, butter and two slices of bread on a plate and sat it in front of her aunt. ‘Look, Cora, I’m sorry, but kids are kids.’

Cora removed her revolver, placing it on the table. ‘I’ve been up since midnight, Meg. I’m not inclined to come back and find my home a disaster zone.’ She bit into the bread, silently cursing the loss of her morning staple – scones and cheese. ‘It’s been two weeks since your arrival. Have you got the run of things now?’

‘Yes. I just got waylaid.’ Meg glanced at the wall clock. From the pantry they could hear the twins singing. She was starting to wish she were back in Sydney. At least there it was easier to keep an eye on the girls, and she had enjoyed a semblance of a life. So far, all she’d done at Absolution was listen to Sam complain and try to remember everything her aunt told her to do. She wasn’t sleeping very well, and as yet hadn’t managed to muster the courage to ask Cora about the strained relationship that existed with her mother. Then there was Cora’s sleeping habits. Meg was pretty sure she stalked the house in the dead of night before heading outdoors. ‘Can’t you put that revolver somewhere else instead of sitting it on the table beside you every morning?’

Cora glanced at Meg in surprise before looking aimlessly about the kitchen, finally holstering the gun at her waist. ‘Your girls aren’t bush kids, Meg. There are any number of places they could hurt themselves: the dam, the dipping trench, playing with old wire and tin. The dogs could even bite them – they aren’t used to being played with.’ Meg didn’t respond. The fiftieth rendition of ‘Row, row, row your boat’ sounded loudly from the pantry.

‘Do you go out at night, Aunt Cora?’

Cora cupped her hands around her teacup. ‘What do you mean by go out?’

‘In the evening after dinner. It’s just that Sam isn’t a good sleeper and on a few occasions he’s thought someone was outside.’

Cora hid her smile and took a sip of tea. ‘There are plenty of things outside to disturb a person not used to the sights and sounds of the bush.’

‘You’re never here for breakfast, you come back mid-morning, sleep during the afternoon.’

‘I have a routine I keep to.’

‘I once thought I saw you near the dam with your horse.’

Penny and Jill appeared, food filthy.

‘I’d appreciate it if you two behaved yourselves,’ Cora admonished. ‘No more playing in the pantry or cooking or playing dress-ups with my working dogs. Is that clear?’

Penny and Jill stared wide-eyed at Cora. Then, as if on cue, both girls burst into tears and ran to their mother.

Maybe she had been too harsh, Cora thought.

As Meg consoled her children, Jill turned her treacle-covered mouth towards Cora and poked out her tongue.

The knock on the bedroom door came just as Cora was about to put head to pillow. It was 3 pm and she expected it to be Meg. She raised herself up on her elbow. ‘Yes.’

‘Gidday, Cora. See you’re ready for me.’

‘James.’ Cora swung out of bed, pleased her change of clothing before her afternoon rest consisted of a baggy cream jumper and matching long johns, and not her favourite flannelette nightie and bed socks. ‘What are you doing here?’ Although the afternoon was chilly the sun streamed in through the louvered windows, silhouetting him.

Removing his hat, James closed the door. ‘I’ve dropped by a couple of times but the place is awash with kids and staff. Figured as I know your habits I’d have to catch you and everyone else unawares.’ He nodded at the bed. ‘Maybe take the opportunity to create a bit of gossip.’

Cora caught her smile before it appeared. ‘Behave yourself.’

‘Yeah, right. Anyway, for someone who likes their space you seem to have a full household.’

‘My niece, Meg. The rest of them – husband included – came with the deal.’

James looked about the room, at the great tree filling the opposite corner, before sitting at the desk. ‘So I’ve heard. You didn’t actually mention the other morning it was a permanent arrangement.’

‘You didn’t ask.’ There were only a few feet between them and Cora could already feel her heart trying to take control of her mind. James smelt of wet dogs and antiseptic, reminding her of warm days.

‘The husband’s in a spot of trouble with the Sydney police. I reckon that’s why he slunk up here. Clobbered some fella in a bar fight.’

Cora tidied unruly hair. ‘So, you’ve been checking up on me.’

James fingered the brim of his hat. ‘You know I always figured we couldn’t get it together on account of you being the independent sort. Guess I was wrong on one count.’

‘There are some things in my family that needed sorting, James, and I owed my sister.’

He fiddled with a polished black stone holding down some accounts. ‘I wondered when you’d make your move.’

‘What’s that meant to mean?’

‘Well, getting the girl here to spite your sister, for one. Payback time, eh?’ He adopted a soothing tone. ‘It was a long time ago. Why not let it go?’

‘Because I don’t want to.’ Cora tied her hair back with a length of ribbon. ‘You forget, James, things happened, people are dead.’ She bit her lip. ‘Anyway, I don’t see why the girl shouldn’t know the truth of things.’

‘How’d you entice them here?’ James asked. ‘It had to be something attractive enough to get Meg away from her mother.’ He rubbed the stone paperweight. ‘Something feasible.’

Cora hated the direction James was taking their conversation. Why was he making her out to be the dastardly relative?

‘Oh, I get it.’ James dropped the paperweight on the desk. ‘You’ve dangled Absolution Creek in her lap, made vague promises to gift it to Meg despite your own intentions of not leaving until you’re carted out on a door.’ He scratched his cheek. ‘Wow, that makes me look like a bit of a fool. Here I’ve been talking joining forces and living happily ever after, and you’re too busy plotting revenge to bother with me.’

‘James, look I’m –’

‘So what are you going to do, then? Tie your niece up and force-feed her your side of the story?’ He held his hand up. ‘No, I’ve got it. You’re going to hold Meg here against her will, deprive her mother of her only child as she deprived you of your loved ones. That’s it, isn’t it? It’s as simple and as sad as that.’

‘You’re being unfair,’ Cora retaliated.

James shook his head. ‘Actually, I’m just plain annoyed at both of us. I didn’t realise I was barking up the wrong tree. I guess it’s one thing to have a bit of a fling and quite another to commit; especially when you’re obsessed with righting the past.’

‘James –’

‘Well, I wouldn’t hold your breath. After all, she’s city bred and her husband’s a no-hoper.’

‘Meg’s smart, everything’s going like clockwork and she deserves the opportunity to –’

He laughed and shoved his hat firmly on his head. ‘You’re not doing it for Meg. You’re doing it for yourself and probably
him
, his memory.’ He pointed a finger at her. ‘Sometimes I wonder if he’s not the reason you can’t commit to me.’

He always was one for riling her, reason enough to keep him at arm’s length. ‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘Is it?’

‘Why shouldn’t she know the truth?’

‘Because you’re not doing it for your niece, Cora. The only thing you’re doing is wrecking your own life and buggering up hers.’

‘You mean I’m wrecking your life, James Campbell.’

James opened the door leading out onto the veranda. Outside a rooster raced past, wings flapping, squawking in terror. Harold was only a few feet behind, rifle in hand. ‘Good to see things are running like clockwork.’ Hot in pursuit came the twins, squealing with excitement, and finally Meg, dark hair flying as she called after her daughters.

‘So that’s Meg,’ James commented. ‘Well, she’s a bit of a looker.’

As the rifle shot sounded and the twins cried out in unison, James slammed the door. Cora clenched her fists and expelled a hot burst of breath. She stalked the bedroom, glancing at the great tree as if it could provide answers, then she began to rummage through her dresser drawer. Eventually she found the wooden-handled mirror stuffed in her sock drawer. The glass steamed up under her breath. Satisfied, Cora tucked the mirror safely away. Outside the twins were crying. Meg’s words of comfort floated in the garden, softening the angst both outside and within the homestead.

Cora lifted the stone paperweight. It was reassuring to know James was nearby, even if no one could help her. If only she wasn’t so mindful of her past, so protective of her person. All her life she’d felt as if her heart were a captured bird within a wooden cage. So many times the cage door had been left tantalisingly open only to be slammed shut when least expected. James was right. It
was
her past that stopped their relationship from being all that it could be, and she couldn’t escape it.