Trust Me (72 page)

Dulcie kept having to remind herself how easy it was for Rudie to be young at heart and happy, for he had everything anyone could want. A comfortable childhood, loving parents, success in his chosen career, dozens of good friends. She knew she shouldn’t be comparing him with Ross and wishing he was less rigid and staid. Ross had never had a chance to see rock and roll bands, or the opportunity to listen to English records. He’d never lived in a city, he’d never had much chance to make friends.

Yet she knew in her heart that even if Ross was to come to Sydney, he would sneer at the kind of bohemian people Rudie knew, he wouldn’t want to try foreign food, he’d find fault with everything. Sadly, his idea of a good time only stretched to downing around eight schooners of beer. He would never dream of using his talent at carpentry or building to make a living, even though she knew it satisfied him far more than farm work. In truth she had come to see he had a deeply engrained notion that he deserved nothing better than being a farm labourer.

Nine days after Dulcie had come to stay at Watson’s Bay, Rudie took Noël out for a walk in his pram after lunch, leaving Dulcie to write a letter to Ross. As he pushed the pram out through the front door, he glanced round at Dulcie sitting at the table, pen in hand, but resisted the temptation to say anything which might confuse her further.

Two Child Welfare officers had called that morning to check on Noël and to assess the situation. Dulcie had told them that she wanted joint guardianship with Rudie, and that she believed it to be in Noël’s best interests to stay in Sydney with his father, where the schools and medical facilities were better, and that she would see Noël in the holidays.

Rudie had stated he intended to employ a part-time nanny, and as he worked from home and had a cleaner too, Noël would be well looked after. Everything was going well, both he and Dulcie could see the officers had overcome their initial suspicion that a bachelor couldn’t take care of a small baby alone. They seemed relieved too that there was no question of Dulcie demanding to take Noël permanently out of the state and away from their supervision. Once Rudie had agreed to take a blood test to prove he was Noël’s father, it looked as if they were home and dry. But then suddenly one of the officers turned on Dulcie and began questioning her.

Rudie knew very well that what Dulcie really wanted was to take Noël home with her, but Ross had refused even to consider it. Rudie guessed too that the holiday arrangements which Dulcie had spoken of so convincingly would be unlikely to materialize either, because of Ross’s jealousy. Yet Dulcie hadn’t allowed the officers to get even a glimpse of this. She courageously answered their probing questions about her husband and home life, creating an impression with the officers that Ross was in complete agreement with everything she said. Her only concern was that the officers should find no grounds to take Noël into their care.

Then, right at the end of the visit, the officers said they would need a written testimony from Ross that he shared his wife’s views. They left then, leaving Dulcie and Rudie completely stunned.

Dulcie recovered quicker than Rudie did. She said she would have to resort to blackmail – either Ross wrote that testimony, or she’d refuse to come home.

Rudie took the path up to the headland, stopping for a moment when he reached the top to look down at the Pacific Ocean pounding on the rocks far below. It was a sight that never failed to inspire him, a reminder of how it must have been for the first sailors who came to Australia, seeing all those daunting cliffs, then discovering the inlet into one of the safest natural harbours in the world. In the past he had stood in this spot and imagined himself as captain of one of those ships, or one of the felons aboard, and thought of their feelings as they approached the end of their voyage.

But today Rudie barely noticed the wheeling gulls or tasted the salt spray on his lips. His mind was centred on his past and what the future might hold.

He had loved two women before May, one was back in England, a young WRAC at the camp in Lincolnshire during the war, the second here in Australia. Like May, they’d both been pretty, blue-eyed blondes. Julie, the first, had jilted him for a dashing pilot; Claudine, the second, had thrown him over for a doctor. But he couldn’t say all blondes were bad news to him, for there had been many others over the years, brunettes and red-heads too – he’d had a great deal of fun and happiness with many women. But until he met May, marriage had barely entered his head, his art was all-consuming.

Looking back at that relationship now, with the benefit of so much more knowledge about May, he could see he had fallen for a mirage. It had been so thrilling to find someone so young, beautiful, charming and refined, yet so hot in bed. What a pathetic fool he’d been to imagine he’d taught her all she knew, or that the passion she responded with was real.

Yet the hurting was over now. By meeting Dulcie and discovering the whole truth about May, including the appalling business of that perverted Reverend Mother, he saw May quite differently. When he thought about her now it was not with regret, or love, only with concern she might be in danger, and sadness that she was such a troubled girl.

He had no real anxiety about Noël either, for in his heart he knew the authorities wouldn’t oppose a man’s right to keep his own son, not when he was so well known and respected. They might string him along for months, put him through every kind of test, but he’d win in the end, for the longer Noël stayed under his roof, the less easy they’d find it to remove him without a public outcry.

Dulcie was his real concern, for she was the one who was going to lose in all directions, and his heart bled for her. She had such a huge capacity for love, she gave it willingly and joyfully, expecting nothing in return.

As he stood there gazing out to sea and thinking of her writing the letter that would in effect destroy any possibility of her being free to return to Sydney to see Noël, or even to have him with her for holidays, tears came to his eyes. It wasn’t right, she had already lost so much – both her parents dead, a husband who was one in name only – and now her own sister had brought further heartache to her door.

But as the tears trickled down his cheeks, a sudden realization came to him.

He had fallen in love with her!

All at once he was trembling, he had to grip on to the pram handle to support himself. Why hadn’t he seen it coming? He’d liked her from the very first, admired her kindness, honesty and inner strength. Since then he’d found dozens of other attributes that were usually lacking in his women friends. Dulcie was capable, artistic, a deep thinker, and someone who got things done.

‘Oh God,’ he gasped, turning his eyes up to the sky. ‘Why have you done this to me? She’s perfect, but she’s not free to love me back.’

Now he could understand why his blood had almost boiled each time she’d put the phone down on Ross and burst into tears. Maybe it wasn’t the man’s fault that he couldn’t consummate the marriage, but that didn’t excuse him showing so little concern for his wife’s feelings about her nephew, or for behaving in such a cruel, dictatorial manner. Rudie knew that Dulcie’s love for Noël had grown day by day, just as his had, he saw the joy and delight in her eyes when she held him, felt the ache in her heart when she contemplated parting from him, and sensed how empty her life would be when she did go home.

At times he’d even been tempted to persuade her to fight for her right to take Noël back to Esperance, for she was an ideal mother. But he couldn’t do that, for the same reason she never voiced that this was what she wanted. They both knew it was unlikely Ross would ever accept him, let alone grow to love him, and that wasn’t fair to Noël.

Dulcie had often said how she would have thought a damaged child once grown up would actively seek to protect other children, but it didn’t always seem to work that way. Rudie guessed that most of the cruel nuns, and the Brothers at Bindoon, had been victims of cruelty themselves as children. They did what they’d been taught and saw no wrong in it, and that was the real horror of it, for unless someone stepped in and broke this hideous chain, it would go on into perpetuity.

But he didn’t want to think of such sad things, he would rather picture Dulcie’s sweet face. Now he could see why these last few days had been so happy, why he’d woken each morning full of excitement. He wished he could go home and tell her so, that he wanted to share everything, his success, home, wealth and Noël, with her for evermore.

A cloud slipped over the sun, and the sudden chill reminded him he couldn’t have her. It was no good. Her religious convictions and the vows she’d made to Ross wouldn’t allow her to accept his love, or return it. All he could do when the time came for her to return home was to let her go without the burden of guilt. Maybe he could tell her there was a home waiting here for her if she ever needed it, but he knew she wouldn’t take him up on it, she was far too noble to give up on Ross.

Noël yawned, stretched and opened his eyes. He saw Rudie looking down at him and gave a gummy smile.

‘You persuade her, little man,’ Rudie whispered, bending over to tickle him. ‘You’ve got more charm than me.’

September faded into October, and Dulcie and Rudie had several more visits from the authorities, and a great many letters passed between them, Mr Wetherall and the Welfare Department. Ross had written the letter to them, as instructed by Dulcie, agreeing that he fully supported his wife’s and Rudie’s plans for Noël, and there was no doubt now that in due course the joint guardianship would be formally approved.

But the letter Ross wrote to Dulcie at the same time he sent the one to the Child Welfare Department had a quite different content. He said that if she wasn’t back home by mid-November to help out with the harvest he would write again to the Welfare people and state that he’d only written the first one because his wife had pressured him into it, and that he was totally against her having any connection with the child. He said he considered Rudolph Jameson to be an immoral man, totally unfit to bring up a child because he had abducted a young girl and taken her to live with him, and in his opinion May fled from him because he ill-treated her. He finished up this letter by saying Dulcie had a duty to him and Bruce which she had neglected, but that he would put that aside if she came home and spoke no more about this child.

Dulcie cried bitterly as she read the letter, knowing Ross was quite capable of carrying out his threats if she didn’t comply with his wishes. The most tragic thing to her was that Ross had learnt nothing from his own harsh upbringing but personal survival, and he was prepared to let a child suffer to gain what he wanted.

Yet however unhappy Dulcie felt about the future of her marriage, and indeed returning to Esperance, she couldn’t help but feel joyful when she looked at Rudie and Noël together. Rudie was a superb father, deeply committed, loving and full of fun. Watching him spoonfeed Noël was a delight. Noël was as greedy as a baby bird, eager to try almost anything, and as Rudie fed him he would keep up a running commentary on the benefits of iron in spinach or protein in chicken, as opposed to the negative value of chocolate pudding which was Noël’s favourite. It seemed to Dulcie, too, that Noël was growing far more like Rudie, he had his long, slender fingers, and when Dulcie smoothed down his dark hair after a bath and parted it to one side, it made her laugh to see the similarity.

Their days together had fallen into a pattern. Rudie painted in the mornings, while Dulcie either did chores or took Noël out while Mrs Curston was cleaning. After lunch sometimes Rudie took Noël out alone, leaving Dulcie to paint or read, or they went out together. It was getting warm now, sometimes hot enough to have a swim in the sea, and they often took the ferry into Sydney to walk in the Botanical Gardens, dropping in later to see Nancy at the Sirius.

Rudie had found a nanny for Noël, Sarah, the nineteen-year-old daughter of a neighbour, who was at college studying languages. At present she only minded Noël occasionally for an hour or two to get them used to one another, but the plan was that once Dulcie had gone home Sarah would fit her hours with Noël around her lectures, an afternoon a couple of days a week, or evenings when Rudie needed to go out, and most of the day during the college holidays so that Rudie could paint. With Mrs Curston’s help too, Dulcie could see that there was really no need for her to stay on now. Rudie was perfectly capable of handling everything, and any forms which needed to be signed could be sent through the post. But neither of them spoke of this, and Dulcie knew Rudie was as reluctant for her to leave as she was.

On the morning of 20 October, Wetherall sent a letter confirming the blood tests Rudie had taken proved he was Noël’s father, and jubilantly pointed out that this meant there was no fear of any further interference from the Welfare Department, aside from routine visits from a health visitor. His only real concern was that May might suddenly turn up again and claim her child back. Since this was unlikely, as the police had failed to find her, they took the ferry into town for a celebratory lunch.

They got home at four in the afternoon, slightly merry after a bottle of wine, and left the front door propped open as it was a very warm day. Dulcie was changing Noël’s nappy on the floor and Rudie was making a cup of tea, when a male voice called out, ‘G’day, Mrs Rawlings, it’s the police. May we come in to speak to you?’

Dulcie looked up and saw a big man in a grey suit, with a smaller uniformed man just behind him. ‘Of course,’ she said, assuming they just wanted to report another line of inquiry about May which had led nowhere. There had been around five or six such visits in the past six weeks, though not by these two men. ‘Rudie!’ she called out. ‘It’s the police, will you make another two cups of tea?’

She picked Noël up in her arms, asked the men to sit down, and sat down herself to fasten up Noël’s romper suit. ‘What is it this time?’ she asked. ‘A new lead on May?’

It was only when the two men exchanged glances before speaking that she felt nervous. ‘Have you found her? Where is she?’ she said.