Prodigal Daughter Page 5

  Knocking at the back door elicited no response, and there was no key where there always used to be one, under the ceramic flowerpot. Diana reached for her phone.

  ‘Mum, Granny’s not answering the door.’

  ‘She’s probably taken her hearing aid out. There’s a key at the neighbours—the one with the brick fence. The Mullens. I’m sure she’s all right, Diana, don’t worry.’

  ‘I’ll ring you right back.’

  Moments later, Diana called her mother as she walked quickly back to Granny’s house. ‘Mum, they’re not home.’

  ‘All right.’ Stella was quiet for a minute. ‘Rosie’s got a key. Go round to the hospital.’

  Diana got back in the hire car and drove to the hospital. The red-brick building stood back from the road with a few large pepper trees in front. Diana parked at the entrance and raced inside. There was no one at the desk and it seemed very quiet. Lord, where were all the people when you wanted them? She strode down the corridor, glancing into rooms that all seemed to be occupied by sleeping patients or visitors sitting in chairs—not anyone who looked remotely like a staff member that she could see. Surely finding someone on staff in a ten-room hospital shouldn’t be that hard. Turning the corner she ran right into a solid mass of dark-green woollen jumper and tweed sports coat.

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry! I’m looking for Rosie Burns.’

  ‘Rosie. She should be here somewhere. Keep going down to the end and turn right.’ The voice was deep and amused.

  ‘Thanks.’ And she was off more quickly this time, half running till she burst into the door marked ‘Kitchen’.

  ‘Rosie!’ Diana exclaimed. ‘Have you got a key to Granny’s house?’

  Rosie stood at the end of the laminated counter, loading trays onto a large trolley. She looked up amazed. ‘Diana. What on earth’s wrong?’

  ‘I can’t get into Granny’s house. She won’t answer the door.’

  ‘She’s probably taken her hearing aid off. Calm down.’ Rosie disappeared out a door to her left and reappeared with a large shoulder bag in hand. Diving into it, she took an inordinately long time to find the key.

  ‘This is what you need. Back door.’ She passed it over with a grin. ‘We’ll have to get you one cut. Or you can have mine. Good luck!’ But she was talking to a swinging door.

  By the time Diana got back to the house, her hand was shaking as she put the key into the back door and walked in. It smelled stale. Old people smell. No one was in the kitchen, or the sitting room. With her hand on the knob of the bedroom door, she whispered, ‘Granny.’

  Her grandmother was lying on the bed, fully dressed, eyes closed. Diana approached her, terrified, putting out a hand to touch her shoulder.

  The eyes flew open. ‘Diana! What a lovely surprise! I haven’t seen you for ages.’

  Not for ten years, actually, Diana thought.

  ‘Oh, I must have dropped off to sleep.’ With a start of surprise she looked round the room. ‘Goodness, it’s hard to keep track of the time. How are you, darling?’

  Her grandmother struggled to sit up. She swung her feet to the floor, looking around for something. Diana saw a walking stick leaning against a chair. She reached for it and handed it to her grandmother and tried to help her up.

  ‘Don’t. I’m perfectly able.’

  Diana was reduced to uselessly watching as her grandmother put her stick to the floor and laboured to stand up.

  Which she did, eventually.

  ‘How are you feeling? It’s so good to see you.’ Diana couldn’t resist giving her a gentle hug, felt the frailty of her shoulders and the papery skin of her arms, and noticed the lustreless white hair and her swollen ankles. She’d shrunk to a tiny old woman. Diana was shocked. All that was left of the feistiness she remembered was in her voice.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Where’s your hearing aid, Granny? Did you take it out?’

  ‘My what? Speak up! Oh yes, I’m sure it’s somewhere. Those wretched people put it in places where I simply don’t know … Oh, there it is.’ She shuffled slowly, painfully slowly, to the cabinet near the door, picked up the offending article and put it in her ear. They both winced at the sudden squeal and then she turned to Diana, beaming. ‘That’s better. Where have you been? I haven’t seen you for ages,’ she repeated.

  ‘In England.’ Diana was a little disconcerted. ‘I’ve come back for a visit. I’ve brought the kids.’

  ‘What kids? Do you have children? No one told me. But then no one tells me anything anymore.’

  Diana followed her into the kitchen. The last time she’d seen Granny was ten years ago when she’d brought Charlie out to meet her family, just after they’d married. She’d never been able to get him to come again—it was not something he’d wanted to repeat. Her grandmother had thought he was wonderful. She was one of Diana’s most favourite people in the world. This was breaking her heart. ‘You remember Charlie, though?’

  ‘That beautiful Englishman? Of course I remember. Had a sense of humour, very entertaining. Where is he?’

  Diana left that right alone. ‘I’ve brought some things for you. I’ve left them in the car. I’ll just go and get them.’

  When she returned to the house, Diana put the shopping down and looked round the empty kitchen, wondering where her grandmother had gone. She walked into the sitting room where Granny was sitting in what was a new armchair—or at least it was new to Diana. A fancy affair—very cushiony. Everything else was the same though: an arrangement of silk flowers on the tall bookshelf, beside two of her early plates. Diana gave a wry smile, remembering how pleased she’d been with them. Actually, examining them now, she realised they weren’t all that bad. On another shelf, the French brass carriage clock that had belonged to her great-grandmother needed winding. Absently, Diana picked up the brass key and started winding it up. She set the correct time, five to twelve. She ran her finger along the row of books on the bottom shelf: H.V Morton’s travel books.

  It was Granny who had introduced Diana to a whole world outside of their country town. Peg had loved reading travel books, even though she hadn’t done any travelling herself. She’d lived here in this house for … heavens, it must be thirty years since Grandfather Frank died. He was sixty-one when the cancer finally won out. Peg had moved in here, and her family had moved into the homestead on the farm.

  ‘Where’s your husband, Diana?’ Peg asked suddenly.

  ‘Umm, he died.’ Diana swallowed.

  ‘Oh darling, that’s terrible, so young. Frank would have liked Charlie. Frank died way too early. I still miss him.’

  ‘What would you like for lunch, Granny?’ Diana asked, but her eyes were closed again and she hadn’t heard the question.

  Diana went back into the kitchen and was surprised by two women walking in the back door.

  ‘We’re from Meals on Wheels. You must be Diana.’

  One of them was carrying a foam box, and picked up an empty one she obviously knew just where to find. She efficiently emptied the meal from the foil container onto a plate on a tray, along with pudding and a drink. The other woman squeezed out four pills from a Webster pack, adding them to the tray. Diana followed them in and watched them place the tray on her grandmother’s lap.

  ‘Here you are, dearie. Your granddaughter can have lunch with you. Isn’t that nice? Been a while since you’ve seen her, I guess. Lovely fish today.’

  And the two of them were gone.

  Diana sat in the chair opposite her grandmother and watched her eat.

  ‘I hate fish. Tastes like cardboard.’

  ‘Have you thought of your next move, Granny? Where you’d like to go?’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere, Diana.’

  She couldn’t help smiling. Her grandmother certainly hadn’t misheard that question.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Diana drove home, and wandered into the kitchen with an armful of groceries. A picture of satisfaction, Saskia sat on the kitchen bench with a large
spoon in her mouth, while Stella slid a tray of patty cakes into the oven.

  ‘I thought I’d have a practice on the quad bike before I take the kids out,’ said Diana. ‘Milo will love it, Sienna too, when she gets over her sulk. I’m afraid she’s missing Polly, her best friend.’ She put the bags on the counter.

  ‘Can I come?’ Saskia asked.

  ‘No, better wait till I get the hang of it, Sassy.’ Diana grinned and wiped a bit of cake mixture off her nose.

  ‘It seems quite easy for me,’ said Stella. ‘You should manage it all right. It’s a key start and the gears are on the right, the throttle on the left, I think. Everything’s on the handlebars, anyway. How was your grandmother?’

  ‘It’s been ten years since I’ve seen her. She’s a lot older, but she’s still got her sense of humour.’ Diana felt defensive. Actually, it had just about broken her heart and been a little too hard to take in. ‘I’ll be back and we’ll talk later. Thanks, Mum.’

  As she ran down the back steps, Diana couldn’t help thinking how everything had changed—her grandmother, Rosie and Mal were barely talking, and after they’d left this morning, her parents had had an argument, over cars of all things.

  ‘I’m not having my grandchildren driving around in a car with no brakes,’ Stella had announced baldly. Diana deduced she was referring to the family car.

  ‘There’d be no need for them to drive around in a car with no brakes if you would just take it to Bruno’s to have it serviced once in a while.’

  Bruno’s was the garage in town where they’d always had their mechanical work done. ‘He’s still going?’ said Diana. ‘He must be at least seventy by now.’

  Her father didn’t look pleased. ‘His son Steven has taken over most of it, but Bruno is still “going”, as you put it.’

  Well that wasn’t the most diplomatic thing she could have said.

  ‘Before one has one’s car serviced,’ Stella continued, ‘you usually have to come up with the money for filters and new brake pads and oil, and all the rest.’ Her mother wasn’t letting it go.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Tom. ‘You don’t have to be driving round in a car that’s not roadworthy. Take it to Bruno’s today.’

  ‘I’m not going in today. Diana’s going to see your mother and do the shopping for me.’

  ‘Well, take it in tomorrow, or whatever bloody day you are going in.’ And her father had stormed out of the room. Her mother had avoided looking at her.

  * * *

  It was colder today. The wind had picked up and was quite chilly. Diana picked up her father’s old crackly Driza-Bone and a woollen beanie, jamming it on her head on the way out.

  Examining the bike, she could see that everything was pretty similar to the ag bike she used to ride. She got on and turned the key in the ignition. No problem, it started like a charm. With a little laugh she accelerated and was off. It had a different feel from the two-wheeler she used to ride. This was much more sedate. The kids were definitely going to love it. She set off for the creek, giving her shoulders a little shake, enjoying the rush, the sudden freedom.

  She didn’t recall her parents fighting like that. Perhaps it was selective memory and she’d just picked out the good bits to remember. Hell, she and Charlie had some beauties.

  You were getting pretty short-tempered, if I remember correctly.

  Hello, Charlie. That’s nonsense. Someone had to keep you on the straight and narrow. You’d forget what day of the week it was when you were painting. I could never depend on you to remember to pick up the kids … Tell me, why does thinking about you hurt so much?’

  You always thought you were tough as, maybe you’re not as tough as you think?

  It hurt before with Cody, but I must have forgotten. You forget about the pain that comes with childbirth—maybe it’s the same? I supressed it all after Cody. Why can’t I do the same with you? I miss you. It hurts so much, Charlie.

  There was a place along the creek that was Diana’s favourite place on earth. Mog’s Creek wound through the farm. It was spring fed and in dry times it dried up into a chain of holes, one of which had always been their picnic place. Diana stopped the bike and looked down at the graceful weeping willows leaning over the edge of the creek and the enormous box trees grown tall with the water and shelter from the wind.

  You loved this place, Charlie.

  Do you blame me? It was the only place I got to make love to you.

  I was too embarrassed to do it in the house with my parents in the next bedroom.

  Yes, they had made love there, stretched out on his coat in the hot sunshine, long grass prickling the backs of her bare legs.

  Forget Charlie, forget Rosie’s frustrations and her parents bickering. She turned the throttle round. The wind was blowing straight into her face as she screamed down the hillside towards the creek, her hair whipping her cheeks. Her eyes were streaming from the wind rush. This was so much fun. Yes.

  ‘Wait for me, Di, wait for me.’

  A whisper in the wind. Cody, or was it Charlie? Damn, she was going too fast. Cody used to say it. ‘Rosie, Di, wait for me.’ Charlie would say, ‘Slow down, Di, slow down. Let it rest, tomorrow will be okay. We’ll do it tomorrow.’

  Diana liked going fast. Getting it finished. But it was Charlie that had been going too fast, Charlie that hadn’t waited for tomorrow. Damn him for walking out that door.

  She opened her eyes. The bike had stopped, slewed sideways in a sandy ditch. She blinked. She’d nearly gone over the handlebars. Now she was bogged, she thought, as she roared the accelerator. In a drought. What a joke. Still shaking, she got off the bike and examined it. It had one wheel down and the other up. She was really stuck. What had she been thinking? It was too heavy to lift up. She’d never had that problem with the old Yamaha. Furious with herself, she started the long walk home.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Stella was worried. Diana had been gone for an hour and a half. Where was she? Where were Tom and Milo, for that matter? She glanced at the mobile phone sitting on the hallstand—it was supposed to be with Tom so she could contact him if there was an emergency, or vice versa. The girls were in the bath and she stood, hovering at the door of the bathroom, holding pyjamas and towels, when the back door slammed and she heard voices.

  ‘Tom, is that you? Have you seen Diana?’

  ‘No. Where is she?’

  ‘She wanted to take the bike out for a run –’

  ‘The bike? For Christ sakes, Stell, she hasn’t ridden one for twenty years. Stay here, Milo.’ He turned and struggled to put his boots back on. ‘Why on earth did you let her go?’

  Stella let her breath out slowly. Right, so it was her fault. You didn’t tell Diana not to do something, it was like waving a red rag at a bull. You just hoped she knew what she was doing. Ever since she was tiny she’d been that way. And, she might add, usually aided and abetted by Tom.

  ‘Girls, out of the bath, please. And how about you get in, Milo,’ Stella called. But when she went into the bathroom the girls were out of the bath already, shivering on the mat, with Milo, white-faced, beside them.

  Quickly she went down on her knees, threw towels around them and pulled them close. ‘Hey.’ She patted the girls down. ‘Don’t worry.’

  ‘Where’s Mummy?’

  ‘Milo, she just went for a little ride on the bike. It’s probably run out of petrol, that’s all. Tom’s gone to get her. She’ll be back in a minute.’

  ‘How does he know where she went?’

  ‘It’s okay, don’t worry, Tommo knows where she would have gone.’ And that was the truth. She would have gone to Mog’s Creek, for sure.

  * * *

  The family sat round the table together. Her family. Her mother and father at either end, Mal beside her dad, then Rosie and the children. The table was set with two fat candles and the old silver, and another bowl of the bright pink chrysanthemums.

  ‘So where’s the bike now?’

  Mal sou
nded amused. He was the only one. Her dad had given her a rocket. As for the kids, Diana didn’t want to see that look on their faces ever again.

  ‘Down nearly at the creek. There’s an erosion gully I don’t seem to remember being there before.’

  ‘Just like old times, Diana.’ Mal grinned at her.

  ‘You were the one getting bogged mostly, I seem to remember.’

  ‘Yes, you were good at pushing me off the track.’

  ‘I don’t remember that. Not remotely.’ Diana raised her glass to him. ‘It just helped make you a better rider.’

  ‘I don’t think the children need to hear how the two of you used to stack the bikes,’ Rosie interrupted.

  ‘Probably not. Would you kids like any more?’ The three of them looked at each other.

  ‘No, thank you.’ Milo spoke up. ‘Can we ring Grandpa and tell him we’re here?’

  ‘Of course.’ Stella was up immediately. ‘Is it a good time over there, Diana? I think it should be. Milo, come with me and I’ll ring the number for you.’

  Sienna and Saskia came over and wrapped their arms around her tightly.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Diana, ‘I won’t do that again. Everything’s okay, kids. Come on, say goodnight to everyone and we’ll go and tell Grandma about the plane.’ She got up and the three of them moved as one to the telephone in the hall.

  It was almost half an hour later that she walked back into the dining room.

  ‘Patrick told me today that you couldn’t predict what the economy is going to do. Best to sit and wait it out.’ Mal leant forward, pushing his plate aside.

  ‘I just can’t understand why wool won’t go up when the dollar is so cheap against the American dollar. Nothing is certain anymore.’

  ‘Who’s Patrick?’ Diana reached out and took a piece of crusty bread and buttered it.

  ‘Patrick Morley, my boss,’ said Mal. ‘Honestly, Tom, why you stick with sheep is a mystery. If you had a few cows and a bull, you’d find that if sheep prices are down, cattle prices are usually up and you’ve covered your bets.’ Mal was trying hard to hold back his frustration.