The Good Daughter (26 page)

‘She didn’t even have a doll.’

‘Can you two up the front hear your daughter!’

‘It’s all right, Grandma,’ Roxanne says.

‘I’ll have you know, I still have my full Matchbox car collection.’

‘See,’ Roxanne says out of the corner of her mouth.

Rebecca struggles to keep a straight face.

It’s one of those evenings where the light seeps away in the barest degrees, as though the sun senses the end of summer, the end of daylight savings, and wants to make the most of the long balmy nights. The truck is idling at the front of the shed when they pull up at the gate. It’s covered in red dust and mud. The Newmans don’t get out. Joe winds down his window and calls his hellos and goodbyes from there. He gives a
toot toot
as he drives off.

Rebecca gets teary hugging her father. He smells good. She drags the scent in.

‘Bloody hell, Becs, what’s been going on?’

They don’t usually hug, but she hangs on tight. He touches her hair and she knows he feels right then the extent of the change in her: things done, things seen, not sunny days spent with Zach fumbling around in the grass down by the riverbank, not anything experimental in her bedroom, but the real deal, all the bells and whistles, and a few things thrown in, perhaps, he hasn’t even tried, and then there’s the boarded window over at the house, no dogs to greet him – it all comes home to him. She feels his spine straighten.

‘I’m okay, Dad,’ she says.

39

Zach walks down the hallway. His footsteps make no sound on the carpet. The light in his father’s bedroom shines through into the passage. He can hear a murmur of voices. Zach comes to the open door of his father’s bedroom and stops. Aunt Belinda is sitting on the edge of the bed. His father is against the bedhead, propped up on pillows. He is dressed in pyjamas, the top half of the shirt unbuttoned, and there are white bandages, strapping, around his chest. He has a cotton swab taped across one eye. He looks up. Aunt Belinda gets to her feet. ‘Come and sit down,’ she says.

She slides past into the hallway. Zach watches her a moment.

He returns his gaze to his father.

Zach waits.

There has to be some advice coming, a plan of attack, a way forward – something, surely, must need explaining, but his father says nothing. Zach stands there. His father does not say a word. The clock ticks in the hallway. Crickets chirp out in the garden. A sheep bleats far off in a paddock. His father stays silent.

So Zach says, ‘I’m gunna take a couple of weeks off school and look after things while you’re sick. I’ve moved those sheep you told me to, and I’ve organised to have the crutching done. I reckon, if you agree, it’s worthwhile running a whole new line to the big dam so we can move the pump – the one that keeps fouling up …’ He walks closer and straightens the blankets over his father’s feet. He sits down and absentmindedly rubs a blackberry scratch on the back of his hand. ‘I’ll take care of things around the place. You don’t have to worry.’

There’s a sound in the hallway. Aunt Belinda appears in the doorway.

‘I’m talking to Dad,’ Zach says.

‘Don’t speak to your aunt Belinda like that.’

The rolling sound of his father’s voice settles Zach. It’s a relief to hear him speak. He angles his body to face him. ‘Dad, why can’t Mum come back?’ he says. ‘If you didn’t hurt her …’ Zach looks behind him to see if Aunt Belinda is still there. She is. He continues on regardless. ‘Why can’t she come back? You know she never means it. You know she’s always sorry.’

‘If you’re in charge of the farm, Zach,’ Aunt Belinda says, ‘don’t let the Fairbanks come out here shooting.’

‘As if I would – I wouldn’t let them out here for anything.’

‘I doubt very much they will ask, but in case they do – we don’t have them out here.’

Zach looks at his father. ‘Have we ever?’

‘I think it’s right I leave,’ Aunt Belinda states. ‘I want your mother to feel comfortable if she is moving back.’ She glances at Zach’s father. ‘But if she insists on being friends with, or keeping in touch with, or whatever the situation is with that Fairbanks boy, I don’t see how it’s going to work.’

‘I’ll let her know you don’t approve,’ Zach’s father says.

Aunt Belinda brings her chin up. Zach catches a glimpse of the hauteur in her – the proud straightness in her back. She’s every inch a Kincaid.

Zach can feel the heat of his father’s body through the sheet. He starts to understand.

‘Has Nigel seen the graves?’ he asks.

‘Nigel Fairbanks should never have been allowed out here in the first place,’ Aunt Belinda says, and smooths her hands down the front of her skirt. ‘He’s telling anyone who will listen that we have unmarked graves on our land for babies who were abandoned at birth. It’s typical of what he would say. The Fairbanks started these rumours years ago when they were trapping for your grandfather.’

There’s some grit to Zach’s father’s voice when he speaks. ‘I didn’t allow him out here. He was on the place without my permission.’

‘Yes, perhaps so.’

‘He fed Joanne the story. It wasn’t Joanne telling him. And it wasn’t Kara telling him, either. It wasn’t any girlfriend of mine – not anyone I’ve ever gone out with or wanted to go out with. Not anyone I’ve ever had on the place. It was Dad who let the Fairbanks come out here originally. Nigel would have heard it from his family and come looking for himself. He told Joanne.’

‘With a proper explanation,’ Aunt Belinda says, ‘I think she will see how the rumours are nothing but nonsense.’

‘I didn’t think I was allowed to give my wife a proper explanation,’ Zach’s father says.

‘People have it in their minds now, regardless. It’s disappointing … God knows what will be said about it. It’s best to ignore it.’

‘Do the Fairbanks want something?’ Zach asks.

‘They don’t know what they want. They never have.’

Zach says simply, ‘Is it true? Are those graves secret? Were those babies abandoned at birth?’

‘Don’t even say such a thing,’ Aunt Belinda says. ‘Of course the graves aren’t secret – they’re marked with headstones, anyone can see them. And lots of babies died back then. Your grandmother was in her late thirties and early forties when she had those babies – of course there was a chance she would lose them. Those girls died of natural causes.’

‘So they were all girls.’

Aunt Belinda falls silent.

‘Why did we have to cover it up then?’ Zach’s father asks after a moment. ‘Why were we never allowed to bring anyone onto the place, and why was I was made to pick my girlfriends from outside of town? If there was nothing to hide, Belinda, why have we spent our lives hiding?’

Aunt Belinda wipes her mouth. She’s shown her true colours, and now she softens. ‘It’s not an issue, anyway. It’s not something we need dwell on. What is important is that we keep clear of those people and all that gossip. Just let them talk.’

Zach’s father says, ‘I think Dad did kill those babies. I think our mother gave up in the end, and that’s what killed her. You heard him talk; you know what he was like. He planned to get rid of every baby girl until he had a boy.’

Aunt Belinda frowns, perplexed. ‘Don’t say that, Ben. Don’t say that … Why would you say that?’ She shakes her head. ‘Why would you say that, now it’s all over? Say it back then. Say it while he was alive. Say to his face. But not now it’s too late. Why would I want to hear it now?’

‘You could have said something. There was nothing stopping you.’

Aunt Belinda is an old lady as she steps back from the doorway. ‘I suppose it’s easy for you … You have a wife, you have two sons. I suppose you can say that … It’s not so easy for me. I don’t have what you have.’ Before leaving she turns and says, ‘I hope this time you do explain to Joanne. I hope, at the very least, she is sorry.’

40

Rebecca is standing at the counter in the hospital cafeteria when Joanne Kincaid walks in. She steps up behind Rebecca and takes the last salad roll. Rebecca doesn’t know where to look. She’s speechless.

They stand side by side. The line moves forward.

Rebecca fills a bowl with hot chips. Her heart is pounding. She looks over her shoulder. Mrs Kincaid is wearing a fawn-coloured leather vest and skinny-leg jeans tucked into knee-high brown leather boots. Her skin is smooth, and there’s a manicured look to her eyebrows, a fullness to her lips. The white shirt she is wearing has a rounded collar – unbuttoned – and the sheerness, the newness of the fabric is bordering on offensive to Rebecca. Is it possible Mrs Kincaid has spent the whole time shopping for designer clothes in trendy boutiques? The heavy gold necklace she is wearing is almost too much. Rebecca turns to the front. Everyone in the cafeteria is staring at them.

Rebecca gets some sauce for her chips, and she squeezes the tomato-shaped bottle hard. She can’t help but feel betrayed. The bottle squirts crudely and a fine red spray splatters.

‘My God!’ Mrs Kincaid cries out.

Rebecca startles. She squirts sauce on the packets of biscuits on the counter – those assorted twin packs they have at hospitals.

‘Rebecca!’ Mrs Kincaid says. ‘I didn’t see you! Look at you!’ She takes hold of Rebecca’s shoulder and turns her around. ‘You look different! Oh, and … yes!’ She eyes Rebecca’s bike jacket approvingly. ‘I knew that would suit you. I told Aden he had to get black.’

The sauce has gone all over the biscuits. The next few moments are taken up trying to clean it away. Rebecca picks out the packets covered in sauce. Mrs Kincaid passes her some serviettes.

They sit at a table by the window. Mrs Kincaid places her salad roll to one side, but Rebecca has to eat her hot chips – she can’t very well let them go cold.

‘Do you mind if I smoke?’ Mrs Kincaid is already lighting up as she speaks.

‘Are you here visiting Aden?’ Rebecca asks.

‘Ben, actually,’ Mrs Kincaid says, and pulls a regretful expression. ‘He’s had to have surgery …’ She straightens the bracelet on her wrist, so that it sits parallel with the cuff of her shirt. ‘He has a detached retina. Sounds terrible, doesn’t it? I hope he doesn’t lose the sight in his eye. But I will go up and see Aden, now that you say that. That’s what I’ll do.’

Rebecca wonders if Mrs Kincaid is high. Her eyes are glassy, her pupils dilated.

‘It’s a nightmare being back,’ Mrs Kincaid says under her breath. ‘I’d made the decision to never return.’ She taps the ash from her cigarette, although no ash has yet formed on it. ‘I would always come to see Zach, though. I don’t mean that. I do wish he went to a private school in the city, boarded – I could spend time alone with him then, away from all of this. But Ben has this thing about living with what is around you, and not going off and being somebody you’re not. It’s a dig at me, you see – him saying that. He thinks I’m wasting my time trying to have a life outside Kiona. But what if Zach is creative? Kiona High is hardly going to foster that.’

‘Have you seen Zach?’

‘Yes. He’s like you – he’s older! It’s amazing the way you kids can grow up in a matter of weeks. He’s not talking to me, though.’ She taps her cigarette. She stares at it. ‘I had to beg Ben’s sister to bring him to meet me. He wouldn’t speak to me, but I got to explain. I know I was wrong not to say I was going. But at the time, it’s always …’ she waves her cigarette, ‘a simple case of getting out. Zach knows the farm can be claustrophobic.’ She takes a tissue out from the top of her bra and pinches it to her nose. ‘Rebecca, I’m sorry if I start crying. I promised myself I would not burst into tears. And I’m not going to.’ She sniffs and composes herself. ‘I guess Aden has told you everything that happened. I’m so pleased, by the way, that you and him are together. He’s a lovely boy.’

Rebecca dips a chip in some sauce. She licks her thumb. ‘Even I don’t think he’s that.’

‘And how alike are they! Ben and Aden. Don’t you think? I don’t mean to look at, although they are that too, but they’re both so … well, it has to be said – angry. Confused by their fathers and burdened by the women who brought them up. Although Ben would refuse to see any similarities at all. He refuses to see that Aden has a right to be angry.’

‘Is Zach having any time off school?’

‘I have no idea. I got the full silent treatment. Ben is giving me a more adult form of it – he’s very curt with me. I’m being chastised, see. It’s like they’ve got together on the best way to make me feel 100 per cent horrible. I suppose it will take some time …’ She straightens the diamond ring on her middle finger. ‘And you know, Kara’s not returning my phone calls. I’ve really done my dash. But surely I can’t be blamed for leading Aden astray? That boy is
astray
all on his own.’ She laughs. ‘Beautifully astray, of course.’ She lifts her hand to hide her smile, and there’s a cold moment for Rebecca as she watches Mrs Kincaid dry her bottom lip with a swipe of her thumb. Rebecca knows that mannerism; she’s seen that gesture before.

Mrs Kincaid leans her body in, across the table. Rebecca finds herself being drawn closer. ‘It was nice to get to know him,’ Mrs Kincaid says, in a tactician’s whisper. Rebecca is unsure if she will forgive the woman if she says what it seems she is about to. ‘I knew Aden before this, but it was nice to get to know him as Ben’s son. His
love child
. Did you know about Ben and Kara? Kara was Ben’s number-one choice, his childhood sweetheart. Ben told me that himself, when he came up to Charlotte’s Pass. He said it as a way to hurt me. Which it did. He was lashing out.’ She frowns and says, ‘I have this theory – tell me, Rebecca, if you think I’m right: if someone says something like that, if Ben speaks openly about her, Kara, well, it must mean he doesn’t
feel
that way about her any more. What do you think?’

‘I guess.’

‘We never speak easily about the things that hurt us. I know I don’t.
Kara
, Ben said, is the opposite of what I am – she is warm and down-to-earth and full of common sense. So, by saying that, I believe he doesn’t feel the way he did about her.’ Mrs Kincaid breathes smoke out through her nose. ‘I don’t have any animosity towards her. I won’t let myself feel that. I know Ben has been faithful – it’s what he does, to make us all feel so unfaithful. What I tried to explain to him was … the disloyalty comes from what he’s been hiding behind all his talk.’ She flattens her hand and swipes it through the air, as though wiping away years of conversation. ‘He doesn’t see it’s like twenty years of adultery to me. He’s only being honest with me now; he’s only
now
being himself. I wanted Kara to have the restaurant. As soon as I knew Ben owned it, that’s what I said should happen. I was on Kara’s side. He can say what he likes, but at least I’ve been true to what I feel. I’ve never lied about that.’ She lifts her shoulder. ‘I told him he’s right – those Claas do have a certain something. Aden is easy to be around, enjoyable to spend time with, bloody gorgeous, someone a woman actually enjoys spending time with.
He’s
warm all right.’ She laughs again, looks off across the cafeteria. ‘In some aspects they are complete opposites. I’ve been trying to remember … but I can’t recall Ben ever being as charming as Aden is. Such charisma. Ben has it, but he chooses not to show it. Although – I will admit – since I’ve got back … this new silent thing Ben is doing …’ she smiles. ‘It would be extremely sexy if it wasn’t for the fact he hates me.’ She straightens, lifts her eyebrows, and drags on her cigarette.