The Grazier's Wife Page 7

  Now, as Alice rounded a bend, a cold, lonely cloud settled over her, a sense that she was forever doomed to watch other people’s happy lives from the outside.

  Damn. She was supposed to have escaped all that.

  __________

  Jackie didn’t open the envelope until after dinner, when she took a mug of hot chocolate through to the office. She hadn’t told Hugh about Alice Miller’s discovery. It might have been a bit awkward, possibly leading to difficult questions about why she was in a hurry to have the mirror rejuvenated. She hadn’t yet told him about the party she’d planned.

  She’d decided it should be a surprise. If Hugh knew about her plans, he’d say there was no need for a fuss and want to call the whole thing off. But he deserved a proper celebration. Jackie knew their family and friends would turn up, and it would be good for her successful but overly modest husband to have to sit and listen while people said nice things about him.

  Even without the party arrangements, they’d both had a busy day. Hugh and Seth had been up at the crack of dawn, heading off to mend fences on the western boundary, while Jackie minded young Charlie. This afternoon, Jackie had found herself dashing into Mareeba at the last minute to fill in on the CWA cake stall.

  By the time she’d got home, there’d been dinner to cook and she hadn’t felt inclined to raise the subject of the hidden envelope over crumbed cutlets and a nice glass of red.

  Now, as she entered the office, all she wanted was a little quiet time to herself. The only sounds in the house were the soft hum from the dishwasher in the kitchen and the murmur of British voices drifting from the lounge room where Hugh was watching one of his favourite crime shows.

  She saw her grandson’s portable cot in the corner of the office and smiled.

  Charlie would be asleep now, she thought, sending a fond glance through the window to the faint glow from Seth’s cottage down by the creek. She still marvelled that Seth had insisted on building a separate dwelling for himself and Charlie. It was only a simple, easy-to-build kit home, but it served Seth’s purposes well, and Jackie was immensely proud of the way her son had shouldered the unexpected responsibilities of fatherhood.

  Seth had a talent for cattle management as well, though, so the family had come to a satisfactory arrangement where Jackie usually minded Charlie for three days a week, and he went to day care in town for two days. Depending on the season and the work required, they shared Charlie on the weekends, but Seth always cared for the boy in the evenings. For over a year now, he’d hardly ever gone out at night, and he’d managed his son’s feeding, bathing and bedtime routine with surprising ease.

  As for Charlie, he was such a cheerful, healthy, easy-natured little chap that Jackie and Hugh had been smitten from the moment they’d set eyes on him, and the problems Jackie had fretted over simply hadn’t arisen.

  Now, as she settled at the desk, she looked forward to checking her emails to see if there were any more responses to the party invitations she’d sent out yesterday evening. She’d spent ages at her laptop, designing the layout for the invitation, selecting just the right photo of Hugh, and fussing over the wording, the perfect font and colour scheme. She’d even found a Top Secret overlay and she was very happy with the result.

  When she’d made a quick check this morning, three acceptances had already arrived in her inbox. Two of them were from the Woods and the Kinsellas, which was no surprise, but she ticked their names off on her list.

  Jackie had a weakness for lists. Already she’d compiled a host of them for this party. One list for invitees, another for household tasks such as cleaning windows and shampooing carpets, another for the catering requirements, and yet another for menu options.

  For the next few weeks, her focus would be the party and tonight, she really didn’t want to have to deal with this envelope. A quick check of her emails was all she wanted, followed by a sneak peek at Facebook.

  She didn’t post much about herself on Facebook, but she loved the glimpse it gave her into other people’s lives – showing who among her friends was on holiday, or who had welcomed a new grandchild, started a new hobby, or lost a beloved pet.

  But the envelope, sitting where Seth had left it next to her laptop, was rather hard to ignore.

  To the Drummond Family.

  Jackie eyed it with a measure of mistrust. The once-white paper was smeared with a cobweb and it was dirty around the edges after years of being crammed behind the mirror.

  Why had it been hidden?

  Secreted?

  It was all rather intriguing.

  She turned the envelope over and gave a start when she saw Stella Drummond’s name and address on the back. This was Hugh’s mother.

  Stella had been widowed before Jackie and Hugh were married. They’d have been happy for her to stay on at Ruthven Downs, but she’d chosen to move into a cottage in Atherton, which was less than an hour away and where she’d lived very happily for many years.

  Stella had died only a few years ago. Before that, Jackie had visited her regularly, taking her casseroles or fruit cakes. Having lost her own mother many years earlier, she’d been pleased that she and her mother-in-law were quite close, especially as Hugh’s sister, Deborah, always seemed to be terribly busy.

  Deborah and her son, Xavier, lived further away, in the rain­forest near Cape Tribulation. Deborah was an artist and she was always going to workshops or giving workshops, or helping to organise art exhibitions, so it had fallen to Jackie to take Stella to appointments with her GP, or down to Cairns to see specialists.

  Deborah had been happy to let Jackie do this, even though she seemed to resent the close bond that developed between Jackie and her mother. But then, Jackie’s relationship with Hugh’s sister had always been strained. To begin with, Deborah, who proudly wore her prematurely grey hair long to her waist, had stated openly, almost tauntingly, that she refused to set foot in a hairdresser’s.

  Jackie hadn’t minded about that, but she’d been upset when she’d overheard Deborah referring to her as ‘Hugh’s blonde, size-eight trophy wife’.

  There’d been other niggles with Deborah that Jackie had learned to live with, but now, she had to wonder if her bond with her mother-in-law hadn’t been as close as she’d presumed either. It was a shock to realise that Stella had hidden papers behind the mirror.

  Why had she never mentioned this? It wasn’t as if she’d suffered from dementia. Her body had become increasingly frail, but to the very end, her mind had remained as sharp as a tack.

  Rather nervously, Jackie lifted the unsealed flap on the envelope. Inside, there was another envelope and a wad of closely written pages. She set the smaller envelope on the desk, frowning at the bold black handwriting.

  Instructions pertaining to the will of Magnus H Drummond.

  Oh, dear God. Jackie’s heart gave a terrible thump. What on earth was this? Why would Hugh’s father write instructions for his will?

  Or rather, why would Stella hide his instructions?

  She wondered if the accompanying pages would explain.

  Carefully, and with a sickening sense of foreboding, she unfolded the thin pages and saw that they were covered in Stella’s handwriting. With a shiver, she quickly folded the pages again.

  She really should show this to Hugh. Stella and Magnus were his parents, after all, and he’d been the main beneficiary of his father’s will. Whether these documents were important or not, Hugh should be the first person to read them.

  Jackie dithered, however, trying to decide whether she should disturb Hugh tonight. He was completely relaxed and enjoying his show. Should she risk ruining his chances of sleep?

  A beat later, she reasoned that any news these papers contained couldn’t be urgent, not after all this time. Of course it could wait till morning.

  With this dilemma resolved, Jackie was about to slip everything back into the envelope when she was gripped by an impulsive, fierce curiosity.

  She wouldn’t touch Magnus’s
envelope, but perhaps she could take a peek at Stella’s letter. She certainly wouldn’t read all of it, that was Hugh’s prerogative, but a quick glance at the first paragraph would reassure her that it was nothing too serious.

  This thought had barely formed before Jackie’s hands, almost of their own desperate volition, opened the pages and smoothed the creases. She thought briefly of Pandora opening that fateful box, and she was as tense as a spy on a window ledge as she skimmed Stella’s opening lines.

  I have done a terrible thing, but before you condemn me, please let me explain how these sorry circumstances arose. I shall try to be brief and to the point, but I need to start at the beginning . . .

  7

  It started in Singapore towards the end of 1941 . . .

  ‘Sister Murray?’

  Stella was painting a young Australian soldier’s back with iodine when she heard her name called. Turning from her task, she saw Freddy Cornick, a tall, willowy brunette who volunteered at the hospital two days a week. Freddy was an American, married to a British businessman. They had made their home here in Singapore, and while Freddy wasn’t much older than the newly arrived Australian nurses, she acted rather like a mother hen around them.

  Stella smiled as she approached. ‘Hello, Freddy.’

  ‘Hi there.’ Freddy came closer and peered with interest at Stella’s handiwork. ‘I see you’re busy.’

  ‘Too right,’ chimed in Stella’s patient, a cheeky young private from Tasmania called Jimmy Downs. ‘Sister Murray is saving my life.’

  ‘I’m almost finished,’ Stella told him.

  Jimmy had been admitted with a severe case of prickly heat, brought on by Singapore’s steaming humidity. Stella had been treating him for several days now, washing his rather skinny back and then either rubbing the inflamed skin with antiseptic cream or painting it with iodine.

  He was forced to lie on his stomach for this procedure, and now he had to twist around awkwardly to address Stella and Freddy. ‘You can’t leave yet. Sorry, Mrs Cornick, but Sister Murray and I need a little privacy.’

  ‘You don’t say,’ Freddy remarked dryly.

  ‘I’m going to ask her to marry me.’

  Stella laughed to cover her surprise. Her nursing experience in Queensland had mainly focused on women and babies. She was still learning the ropes when it came to dealing with flirtatious Aussie soldiers.

  ‘My dear boy,’ Freddy told Jimmy lightly, ‘half the men in this hospital want to marry Stella. I’m afraid you’ll have to stand in line.’

  Stella rolled her eyes at this blatant exaggeration, but it had the desired effect of subduing the young man while she finished attending to his back.

  ‘Now stay flat on your stomach for at least fifteen minutes,’ she told him as she gathered up the bottle of iodine and the kidney basin with used swabs. ‘Is there anything else you need?’

  ‘Your undying love?’

  ‘See you later, Private Downs.’ Stella sent him a smile as she left.

  Outside on the verandah, Stella’s attention was momentarily captured by the stunning view. The hospital overlooked one of Singapore’s wide avenues, busy with motor cars and trishaws and bordered by trim green verges and rows of clean white government office buildings. Beyond this Stella could see the cranes on the busy docks and the glittering sea where brown-sailed junks and hard-worked freighters were bathed in the glare of tropical sunshine.

  She had been in Singapore for three weeks now and she still found this view captivating, but she turned quickly to Freddy. ‘You wanted to speak to me?’

  ‘Yes, honey, I came to offer an invitation. Guy and I are throwing a dance party at Raffles on Saturday week. It’s a regimental do, or at least that’s Guy’s excuse. He’s buddies with the entertainment officer, but as far as I’m concerned it’s just a wonderful opportunity for a fabulous party.’

  Freddy offered Stella her most winsome smile. ‘And I really want you to come.’

  Before Stella could respond, Freddy quickly added, ‘I’ve checked your roster and I know you’re free. And you won’t be on your own. I’ve already invited Peg and Vera and Jean. They’ve all said yes.’

  Stella hadn’t yet looked at the following week’s roster, and she wondered if Freddy had sweet-talked a superior into accommodating her plans. She couldn’t help smiling at the woman’s forwardness, but everyone liked Freddy and she got away with all sorts of things that others wouldn’t attempt. She was also one of those amazing women who managed to carry an air of glamour, even when rolling bandages or emptying bedpans.

  For all these reasons and more, Freddy’s invitation was exciting. Raffles Hotel, so perfectly positioned with a view out to the sea, was the ultimate in luxury hotels, the jewel in the crown of opulent, exotic Singapore. Stella had been there once, briefly, for afternoon tea, but never in the evening for a proper party.

  ‘Please don’t tell me you’ve already had a better offer,’ Freddy added quickly. ‘I know you young, pretty nurses are deluged with invitations.’

  Surprisingly, this was true. Stella had been quite amazed by the busy social life in Singapore. When she’d signed up to join the Australian Army Nursing Service, she’d expected to be transported into the thick of the conflict in the Middle East or Europe. Her mother had been in tears.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Stella had tried to reassure her as they hugged for the last time on the homestead verandah. ‘I’ll come home from this war and marry a grazier and have six strapping sons.’

  They’d laughed at this and wept a bit more. Then Stella’s father, the manager of the cattle property where they lived, had driven her into Hughenden in his battered old truck. From there she’d begun the long journey south to Brisbane for further training at the Redbank Military Hospital.

  On boarding a troop ship some weeks later, Stella and the other nurses had been surprised to learn that the vessel wasn’t heading for Europe as they’d all expected, but was bound for Singapore.

  Stella had been abysmally ignorant about Asia and she’d had no idea what to expect. Arriving at the docks, she’d been hit by a potent mix of smells from the damp, earthy tropical vegetation and from the piles of dried fish and sweet spices waiting to be unloaded from junks.

  She’d soon learned that Singapore was not only a very busy and significant port, but was also considered an impregnable garrison, completely safe from invasion. By some incredible stroke of luck, Stella and her fellow nurses had arrived in a fascinating haven. Despite the dreadful war raging in other parts of the world, the mix of Chinese, Indians, Malays and Brits who made up Singapore were enjoying ‘life as usual’.

  Actually, the level of luxury that the British in Singapore enjoyed was quite an eye-opener. Their social life was extremely active and everyone, including their military, was having a ‘jolly good time’. Young nurses were in great demand and there’d been a string of invitations to attend golf or tennis parties, swimming afternoons, cocktail parties and any number of dances.

  ‘How lucky are we to have ended up here?’ Stella’s friends were almost hugging themselves with delight.

  Yes, the Japanese were making waves, but they were a long way to the north, and Singapore was safe, would always be safe. Apparently everyone, even Churchill, was definite on this point. Singapore was an unassailable fortress.

  Reassured, Stella found the place wonderfully exciting, even if she did feel guilty about having so much fun in the middle of a terrible war.

  And now, an invitation from the Cornicks, to Raffles Hotel, no less.

  ‘Thank you so much, Freddy,’ she said. ‘I’d love to come.’ But she was already wondering if she would have either the time or the spare funds from her meagre allowance to shop for a new outfit. A party at Raffles demanded something rather special. And expensive.

  ‘Oh, and one more thing,’ Freddy called as Stella was about to hurry off to the next ward. ‘I know you’re busy, but if you can spare the time to come up to the house, I’ll find you a beautiful littl
e something to wear.’

  ‘Oh, no, I –’

  Freddy held up her hand. ‘Relax, Stella. I’ve tons of gowns I’ll never wear again.’ With narrowed eyes, Freddy tilted her head and looked Stella up and down. ‘I’d say we’re pretty much the same size, but if anything needs to be altered to suit you, I’d be very happy to organise that.’

  Stella was too surprised to think of an appropriate response.

  ‘There’s no need to look so shocked.’ Freddy grinned and gave an airy wave of her hand. ‘Ah Lan’s a genius with a sewing machine. Dressmaking miracles happen here all the time.’

  ‘But that’s too kind. I couldn’t –’

  Again the other woman stopped her. ‘Honestly, honey, the army pays you peanuts and I love playing fairy godmother. Indulge me. It’ll give me a buzz.’ She cocked her head to one side again, appraising Stella. ‘You’re so fair and I’m so dark, anything we choose will look completely new on you. And I think I have just the thing.’

  In their nurses’ quarters that evening, the girls who’d been invited had a quiet confab.

  ‘It’s ridiculously generous of Freddy,’ said Peg. ‘I suppose we’re being brought in to make up the numbers.’

  Vera gave a shrug. ‘I don’t mind. It’s all terribly exciting and I plan to have a jolly good time.’

  ‘Of course. That’s what Freddy wants,’ added Jean. ‘And in return, all we have to do is dance at Raffles with handsome English officers. I’m not complaining.’ Closing her eyes, she gave a dreamy grin. ‘I reckon it could be a night we’ll remember for the rest of our lives.’

  Stella knew she was silly to feel guilty.

  And Freddy was as good as her word. By the following Saturday morning, the girls had visited the Cornicks’ big, old-fashioned bungalow, set back behind a swathe of palm trees and green banana plants. The selection of outfits had been made, the alterations completed, and the lovely gowns delivered to their quarters by one of the Cornicks’ Chinese boys.