At Home With The Templetons (9 page)

The sound of their parents returning halted the conversation. The four children stood up straight, staring ahead.

Henry spoke first. ‘Here are our children, Eleanor, standing strangely and saying all sorts of peculiar things. Start again, Charlotte. Perhaps it will make more sense the second time around.’

This time Charlotte directed her comments to her mother. ‘We’re resigning. We don’t want to be guides here any more.’ ‘Or dress up,’ Audrey added. ‘Or have people coming into our house looking at us as if we were performing pigs.’

‘It’s seals, Charlotte, not pigs,’ Audrey said.

‘Shut up, Audrey. We mean it, Mum. We’re going on strike. You’ll have to find someone else to do the tours.’ ‘Someone else?’ Henry said, his voice mild. ‘Four other children who will have a much better sense of family loyalty, who will recognise that working together like this is the only way we can keep Templeton Hall running?’

‘That’s enough, Henry,’ Eleanor’s voice was calm, her expression composed. ‘I presume you all have your reasons? Perhaps we could hear them, discuss them?’

Charlotte crossed her arms. ‘Our position is non-negotiable.’ ‘The only certain things in life are death and taxes,’ Henry said cheerfully. ‘Everything else is negotiable. Charlotte, I can see you’re the ringleader here, though you seem to have some strong thoughts as well, Audrey. As for you, Spencer, you look like you’d rather be out catching pigeons. But, Gracie, my little Gracie, do you seriously mean it? You don’t want to be part of our family fun any more?’

A pinch from Charlotte provoked a squeaky response from Gracie. ‘No. No, I don’t.’

‘And why is that?’

Gracie glanced at Charlotte again, who gave her a fierce nod. ‘It’s embarrassing.’

‘Dressing up in colonial clothes and sharing your heritage and the history of this great country with eager tourists is embarrassing? Why is that?’

Another pinch from Charlotte. ‘We look silly,’ Gracie said in a small voice.

‘I’m sure the tens of thousands of little girls and boys and their parents who wore these clothes in the 1860s didn’t feel they looked silly. In fact, in my opinion, it’s the people who visit us in their modern gear who look silly, all tank tops and Tshirts with slogans and ill-fitting shorts. But point taken. Audrey, your reason?’

‘We never get any time to ourselves. Every weekend we have to do this. All our friends at school have normal lives.’ ‘Normal lives? What is a normal life?’ ‘They watch TV, go shopping, play sport.’ ‘And do they earn money doing that?’ ‘Well, no. They get pocket money.’

‘Are they gaining valuable work skills for the outside world watching TV, going shopping and playing sport?’ ‘Well, no, but ‘

‘Are they amassing a fund of unique childhood memories that will give them food for hundreds of dinner party conversations in years to come?’

Audrey just shrugged.

‘Do they make their parents as proud as you make your mother and I every weekend, when we see you all being so charming, so articulate, helping us get Templeton Hall on its feet? Making not just us proud, but surely your ancestors as well, from the distant great-uncle who built this beautiful property to all the family members involved over the years, each of us strengthening the bonds between England and Australia? Do they?’

Audrey, Gracie and Spencer looked a bit lost. Charlotte stood her ground.

‘It’s slave labour, Dad. Is that really something to be proud

of?’

‘I’m hardly forcing you to hand-weave twenty carpets per day.’ ‘You take us for granted. You just tell us to do things, you never ask us.’

‘I say please, don’t I?’

‘No,’ all four children chorused. ‘Don’t I, Eleanor?’

‘No,’ five voices chorused that time.

‘This strike is about me not saying please?’

Charlotte nodded. ‘That’s one of our concerns. We’d also like to discuss our wage agreement.’

‘We don’t have a wage agreement.’

‘Exactly,’ Audrey and Charlotte said. Gracie was now biting her lip. Spencer was sitting on the floor, tying his shoelaces together. ‘You’ll trip over, Spencer,’ Eleanor said. Spencer kept tying.

‘So this strike action, you’re serious about it?’ Henry asked. ‘Unless you come back to us with fair and just working agreements,’ Charlotte said, ‘you and Mum are on your own.’ ‘You and Mum and Hope,’ Gracie corrected.

Charlotte bit back a smile. ‘Of course. How silly of me. I forgot Hope. Helpful Hope. Happy Hope. Hiccuppy Hope.’ ‘That’s enough, Charlotte,’ Eleanor warned. ‘So let me see your demands, Charlotte.’ Henry said. ‘I presume that’s the paper you’re holding. It’s obviously not your homework, if your last report is anything to go by.’

‘That’s not funny, Dad. I’ve told you, my teachers have serious attitude problems.’

‘How strange it is always the teachers’ fault. Wouldn’t you think that just once, Charlotte, your bad marks might have something to do with your bad behaviour?’

‘We’re not talking about my schoolwork.’

Henry suddenly straightened. ‘No, but I think we should. We’re supposed to be a family here, all of us working together, for our common goal, to get Templeton Hall to the point where all of you will benefit from it. I know you think sometimes this is a vanity project for me, just some fun and games - wouldn’t it be a lark to uproot us from England, land halfway across the world for the sake of a few old forgotten ancestors? And yes, I take your point that none of you signed up for this, that no, you didn’t ask to be born a Templeton, that yes, sometimes there are better ways for you to spend your weekends than playing tour guides from the past.’ He was pacing the room now. All attention was on him. Spencer had untied his laces and was also standing up again. ‘We all want what we don’t have sometimes. I know I do. Shall I be honest? Charlotte, I would prefer it if you justified the high fees we’re paying for your boarding school by working hard and making something of yourself, rather than wasting your substantial brain finding new ways to blame others for your own failings. Audrey, yes, I can see a career as an actress would be far more appealing than a career as a chemist, but I wish you would listen to our experience, gain a degree in something that will guarantee you employment and then look into acting. Gracie, we love you, you know that, we love all four of you, but it really doesn’t matter sometimes if every curtain in the house isn’t drawn to exactly the same width, or if the forks on the dining room table aren’t perfectly aligned with the equator. We’d like you to learn to relax a little. And, Spencer ‘

They all looked at Spencer. He seemed eager for his turn. ‘You’re ten years old,’ Henry said. ‘Keep doing whatever

you’re doing. We’ll get on to you when you turn eleven.’ He gazed at his children again. ‘So there we have it. We all wish it was different, but it isn’t. So what are we going to do about it? More money, is that really what this is about?’ ‘That would help,’ Charlotte said in a small voice.

‘And decreased working hours? Sounds unfair to me, more money for less work.’

‘Can we at least have a whole weekend off now and then?’ ‘We can look at the rosters, of course. Anything else?’ Audrey spoke, but was looking at her feet as she did. ‘I’m sick of that pink gown you had made for me.’ ‘I am too. That colour doesn’t suit you. Fine, new costumes. For all of you. Would that make it better?’

Four nods.

‘Splendid. Now, anything else, while we are having this wonderfully full and frank discussion?’

‘I have a question,’ Charlotte said.

‘That surprises me,’ Henry said. ‘Yes, Charlotte?’

‘I’d like to know about your future plans for the Hall.’ ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I’m wondering if you’ve given any thought to what will happen when ‘

Henry started to laugh. ‘Am I hearing right? You, the oldest of my four young children, are asking me what I plan to do with this property when I leave this mortal coil?’

‘Mosquito coil? What’s he talking about?’ Spencer hissed to Audrey.

‘Mortal coil,’ Audrey whispered back. ‘He’s talking about when he dies.’

‘He’s dying?’ Gracie hissed, alarmed. ‘No, Gracie, I’m not dying,’ Henry said. ‘Not as far as I know, anyway. And not for a while yet, I hope. Charlotte, how delicate and diplomatic of you. Should I start checking my soup for rat poison? Watch out for you measuring for new carpets?’

Charlotte went a sudden shade of red. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I get asked about it all the time at school, whether all four of us will inherit the Hall equally, even if there’s a title attached to it.’

‘From what you’ve just said, the most appropriate title for you is the Grim Reaper.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Gracie said.

Eleanor stepped in. ‘There’s plenty of time to talk about this another day.’

‘Exactly,’ Henry said. ‘Besides, I haven’t finalised my will yet. I might leave the Hall to the chickens. Or Hope.’

‘That’s not funny, Dad,’ Charlotte said, her expression stony. ‘No, it isn’t. I apologise. Believe me, Charlotte, once I get a valid premonition of my date of demise, I’ll be sure to call you all in and inform you exactly what my plans are regarding the property. Are you happy to be patient?’

Charlotte nodded, still looking unhappy.

‘Very good. Thank you. Gracie, please take that worried expression off your face, I promise you I’m not about to die. Spencer, leave your sister’s shoelaces alone. As for all your other demands regarding the running of the Hall, sorry, your other suggestions, I’ll draw up a contract. Thank you all for your time. See you at dinner tonight.’

Eleanor waited until all four children had left the room before shutting the door and turning to her husband. ‘They don’t know quite what hit them.’

Henry smiled. ‘Talk fast enough and you can stop most uprisings in my experience.’

‘So you’ll do what they ask? New rosters, new clothes, weekends off? When we can’t afford to do any of that at the moment?’ ‘It’s a delicate balancing act, Eleanor. Offer plenty, deliver some, forget about most of it. Governments and tyrants the world over live life by that creed. Who am I to start anew?’ ‘Perhaps we should do exactly that.’ ‘Exactly what?’

‘Start anew. All of us. Put the Hall on the market, pay off all our debts, move back to England again. Have a proper, fresh start.’

‘Do you really mean that?’ She nodded.

‘Eleanor, my love, if it was possible, you know I would. But you know the limitations of the inheritance as well as I do. No selling the property for at least twenty years and even then only with legal permission. I know it’s been hard and it might get harder still, but at least we’re in it together, aren’t we? All of us, a family, having an adventure on the other side of the world, giving our children special times to remember ‘

Eleanor held up her hand. ‘Please, Henry, stop there. Your audience has gone.’

‘My audience? Eleanor, what are you talking about? I’m speaking from my heart, to you, the holder of my heart.’

She shook her head, smiling now. ‘You really are a wily silver-tongued creature, Henry Templeton. Did you know that?’ ‘Of course.’ He walked across the room and touched her cheek. ‘I convinced you to marry me, didn’t I?’

In the farmhouse, Nina turned away from the canvas she was working on, wiped the paint off her hands and checked the time. Nearly six. Fifteen minutes before it was time to collect Tom from cricket practice. Instead of sticking to the rules of his now three-week-old grounding and bringing him straight home, she’d decided to allow tonight’s long-scheduled outing to go ahead: dinner in one of the local Italian restaurants in Castlemaine, followed by a video of his choice back home. It was a tradition they’d started in recent years, taking place two months to the day after Tom’s birthday, their own way of marking the anniversary of his father’s death, wherever they were living.

Thinking of what lay ahead, Nina felt a flutter of nerves. Would she finally manage it tonight? Finally find the words to tell Tom the truth about his father’s death? Each year that had been her plan. Each year she’d decided at the last minute that it wasn’t the right time. Would tonight be any different? There’d been so much tension between her and Tom since she’d grounded him, they were barely talking about anything at the moment.

‘Nina, you have to stop finding excuses,’ Hilary had said the previous year, when Nina rang to tell her another anniversary

had gone by without her telling him the truth. ‘Otherwise he’ll find out for himself one day and it’ll cause even more heartache.’ ‘How will he find out?’

‘If he ever sees Nick’s death certificate. Or if you ever let him visit his own father’s grave. You think he won’t notice the date is the same as his birthday?’

Hilary’s tone made Nina immediately defensive. ‘It won’t change anything. His father won’t come back to life just because Tom knows the date he really died.’

‘You know that’s not what we’re talking about. You can’t protect him from every hurt life throws at him, Nina. And he has to be able to trust you. The longer this goes on, the worse it will be when you do tell him the truth.’

Nina knew Hilary was right. In their many discussions, Hilary had insisted that it was perfectly understandable why Nina had first lied to Tom, and yes, just as understandable that she had found it hard to tell the truth once the lie was there.

But Hilary only knew the half of it. As far as she knew, the only lie Nina had told Tom was about the year Nick had died. If only it was that simple.

Nina had met Nick on her first day at college in Brisbane, introduced in the cafeteria by a mutual friend. She was studying graphic design and illustration. Nick was doing a business administration degree. They were acquaintances for the first year, confidantes and study partners the next, until finally, four weeks before they did their final third-year exams, they went to an all-night party together, walked home hand in hand along the dawn-lit streets to his small flat in Fortitude Valley and became lovers.

‘At last!’ all their friends had said. ‘We thought you two were never going to get it together.’ After graduation, Nina realised she didn’t want to stop seeing him every day, and was relieved and happy to learn he felt the same way.