Gallipoli Street (12 page)

‘So what's that supposed to mean? That I'm a chicken or a fish?'

‘Both!' she flung at him, stalking away again as he followed her.

‘You know what I think? I think you're the chicken. I think you're only mad because you're too chicken to admit the truth.'

‘Oh really? And what might that be?'

‘That you're in love with me.'

She felt sick in the stomach, pausing only slightly in her march. ‘Don't be so ridiculous.'

‘You're in love with me and you can't stand the thought that I'm marrying someone else. It's the only explanation. If it isn't just a ruse to get rid of her then it must be real. You love me.'

She stopped then and turned towards him, her hands on her hips. ‘You…you puffed up self-important–'

‘Admit it.'

‘I am n-not in love with you,' she declared, her hands trembling as she hid them in her dress. ‘I've done nothing wrong at all. You, in fact, have taken it on yourself to save me when I needed no help, several times now. I have not asked to be watched, or chaperoned, or…or…touched…or – I'm just trying to protect you from…making a mistake. But like I said, if you want to go ahead and marry that…that woman–'

‘Oh I'm going ahead all right. I'm just trying to figure out how you can be so cold towards a kind-hearted girl like Rose. I reckon you're just not the person I thought you were, Vera. I'm marrying her and you know why? Because she's the only woman I know these days, aside from my mother, who I can trust!'

Vera gave a short laugh, shaking her head. ‘You know, I was wrong. You're not Henry the rooster, you're Pickles the mule. Stubborn, stupid and too cross-eyed to see what's right in front of you.'

‘Oh yes, very mature. Got any other farm animals you'd like to compare me to?'

‘How about the back end of a horse!' she yelled over her shoulder, slamming the kitchen door after her and taking some deep breaths as she leant against it.

‘You all right, Miss Veronica?' asked Cook, startled.

‘Uh, yes, just coming in to see if things are…all ready for tomorrow,' said Veronica as calmly as she could, smoothing her skirts.

‘Yes, miss, we're quite prepared. Did you want something else done?' she replied, gesturing towards the tables laden with food.

‘No, no. Everything looks fine, thank you. Nice trifles,' she added, trying to sound pleasant, then gave up, noting Cook's now amused expression.

She headed back out into the parlour where the merriment was in full swing.

‘Here she is! Come on, Vera, share the floor with y'dad,' invited a jubilant Kevin, who grabbed her hand to join in a jig led by Clarkson, who was playing a merry tune on the harmonica.

She was swung about, but kept looking for Jack over her father's shoulder until she finally spied him walking back in, his expression ominous. He scanned the room, landing his gaze upon Rose, who was in deep conversation with Gregory and, with a sinking heart, Veronica saw defeat. Immediately her anger slipped away to be replaced with an empty, engulfing despair. Jack looked furious and determined and that meant only one thing: he had made up his mind to marry Rose and she, Veronica, had helped make it up for him.

Suddenly she found herself unable to stand it and raced to the solace of her bedroom to cry out her grief to her pillow alone, falling asleep to tidings of comfort and joy.

Jack had watched the kitchen door slam and resisted every urge to throw it back open, grab the maddening creature and throw her in the water trough. Of all the stubborn, interfering, irresponsible women he'd ever met, she took the cake. He had a good mind to tell her brothers to keep a tighter rein on her! What was she thinking, standing in the dark talking to Dan? Then turning around and throwing herself at him, Jack, who was practically her brother?

Being holed up in that convent school had obviously turned her into a proper little strumpet.

Jack strode about the lawn, cursing her with every breath before eventually lighting a cigarette, trying to calm down. And that bathing suit! What was her mother doing allowing her to wear that? He'd been able to make out every curve on Veronica's body, not to mention the fact that he'd actually been forced to grab some of them in front of Rose.

Another bloody thing Veronica had done to him to try to ruin this courtship!

Jack flicked the cigarette in frustration. Truth was he couldn't get those damn curves out of his mind. Or her wild hair, or her damnable lips and the saucy words that poured out of them. Jack thought about Rose and the confident appeal that poured out of her. Why didn't that frustrate him and make him angry the way Veronica's raw, earthy sexuality did? He enjoyed Rose. She was beautiful, sensual, mesmerising. But the stark fact right now was that he wanted Veronica. Jack shook his head, trying to erase that last thought. A man just wants what he can't have, he reminded himself. Maybe it was just time to push this engagement forward so he could bed Rose properly and be done with all this tension and frustration. Surely he couldn't want for more than her every night. It was probably just all the waiting that was causing him to act like an alley cat.

And a bit of a horse's ass. Veronica was right. Why had he pushed her like that, asking if she loved him? Jack wasn't even sure he believed in love. Surely that was just romantic guff women carried on about.

No, there was no other choice, he reminded himself. He had to marry Rose. After all the liberties she'd given him it was the only honourable course of action. The right thing to do. Besides, comparing Veronica and Rose, he had to say the latter would be a far easier companion. He couldn't imagine fighting with a woman like Veronica every day of his life!

That decided he went back to the house, determined to push Veronica away and marry Rose as soon as possible. He couldn't go on like this.

Rose watched the palm fronds silvered with moonlight, shimmering in silky strands outside her window. It was only a few hours earlier that she'd looked out from the window below, onto the same night, under the same moon, watching a different scene altogether. A scene that sealed her fate once and for all. Destiny had tipped the scales; the contents had been amended and re-weighed.

And a new winner had been declared.

Jack arose at dawn, the little box that had been living in his pocket now resting in his hand. He would ask her father formally of course, but he wanted Rose to be the first to know, and after Pattie and Veronica's ridiculous attempts to undermine her, he decided it was time to put an end to any more interference and be done with it. He would ask Rose to be his wife and blast everyone else if they didn't like it.

Jack stepped quietly down the hall towards her room and paused at her door, confused, to listen to muffled sounds within. He pushed it open and found Rose sprawled naked across the bed, Gregory Chambers buried inside her. They both groaned with pleasure as he rocked back and forth, lost in their passion. Rose opened her eyes and saw Jack standing there. Their gazes locked as they registered the moment of betrayal together, then Jack found himself backing down the hall, out into the sunrise, and onto Tilley. Away.

He raced her as far as she could go without tiring, finding a neighbour's dam. There he flung himself off, tearing at his clothes and plunging into the water, trying to expunge the image from his mind – to no avail. Over and over again it played, his dark skin against her white flesh, taking what Jack had denied himself, the look of passion on her face. The weight of the ring in his hand. He vaguely remembered throwing it into the garden somewhere.

Jack marked the moment of realisation on her face – shock, guilt – and wondered if she felt regret, or if this had been her plan all along. He thought the two had seemed familiar with one another last night. Was that what they had been talking about? Perhaps he had been used to make this Gregory Chambers jealous and force him into action. His mind ran wild. He had to know. Jumping back onto Tilley he made his way to Greenshades to get some answers.

He wondered if they were still there or if they had slunk off together in the early hours. He picked up the pace. Just let them try and hide.

Veronica opened her present from her mother and father and was shocked to find that it was a dark green silk gown.

‘We had it made based on your lavender.' Her mother smiled at her.

‘I had to convince her to let you grow up,' her father whispered, kissing the top of her head. It may have been based on the lavender, but gone were the high buttons and conservative design. This dress had an actual shape. She found herself almost excited, which was really something, considering her mood. But it didn't last. Folding the paper carefully she placed it back down next to her other gifts, which included a beautiful emerald brooch from Mick, obviously chosen, she now realised, to match her dress, and very high boots from Tom with a comical ‘
Beware of Snakes
' sign on each.

Rose was strangely bright eyed, she noticed, but didn't need to guess why as she waited for Jack to walk in and make the announcement. The mood was subdued compared to the previous night and Veronica suspected a few sore heads were being nursed, particularly by Kevin, who was staring suspiciously at the tomato juice Catherine was forcing him to drink. Clarkson, meanwhile, was busy at Pattie's knee drawing caricatures of them all and her friend was giggling at everything he did.

‘Blimey, first he turns her into a mullet, now she's a kookaburra,' muttered Tom as he walked past.

To Veronica's surprise Gregory Chambers clinked his spoon against his juice glass and the room fell silent.

‘I would like to propose a toast, if I may, to our generous hosts, Marjorie and Clarkson Senior: thank you for this splendid weekend. You certainly know how to make a stranger feel welcome. To the hosts,' he prompted, as everyone raised their glasses, ‘and to present company. And if I may, I would like to make an announcement–'

‘An announcement or a confession?' Jack stood at the door and the roomful of people looked from one to the other, like spectators at a game of tennis. Veronica stared in shock.

‘Jack, please, Gregory is making a toast,' Alice reproached her son. ‘Go ahead, dear.'

Gregory met him straight in the eye and continued in a loud clear voice. ‘Perhaps a confession, yes. I have not been entirely honest with you. I am not a stranger to one particular person here. Rose Dwyer and I have known each other for quite some time and my visit here was quite planned on my behalf, I must admit. I apologise for that, Clarkson, but my reasons were honourable, I assure you.'

‘Honourable, you say?' Jack walked into the room, standing across from Rose, his blue eyes narrow. ‘Is that what you call it?'

A look passed across Gregory's face. He continued. ‘Rose and I became acquainted while I was working on setting up the Australian arm of the import business in Melbourne. She was volunteering at the orphanage nearby where I also volunteered as a driver on weekends, taking the children on outings and so forth. Rose often came on those outings and, well, we formed a friendship. I had planned to come and meet the family sooner, but as you know, I had other Sunbeams to chase.' He smiled, nodding towards Clarkson whose expression remained neutral. ‘But here I am now and, well, after a conversation with her father earlier, I am pleased to announce our engagement. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present my fiancée, Rose.'