Sunlit Shadow Dance (28 page)

So she had quietly come to the
wedding, sitting alone at the back of the church, unknown to all
but Rosa who had given her a friendly smile
and waved her in past Buck,
whispering, “Later you meet Vic and Jane.”

Instead of that meeting now she was sitting
here, telling Jacob this story, saying that once she had talked to
Anne, he could write it.

Jacob sat there listening, spellbound. He
knew this story would bring him back to the top if he chose to tell
it, the rediscovery of another Lost Girl, being returned to her
family along with telling of the childhood abuse that had brought
her to this place. But he was no longer sure he wanted to tell
it.

Kate’s family, like
Susan’s
, had
suffered enough pain. They needed to know their daughter was safe;
she needed to have a family again. But what good could come from
the world knowing of her childhood, of the harm done to her and her
sister. It would not bring her sister back. It would not take away
her pain and it would give new pain to her parents. Perhaps he
could help her give her evidence to the police and that would
prevent her uncle from harming others, perhaps that was enough, and
in a small way this good may be a balance against past
harm.

He told her of this and she
nodded, saying, “Yes, I must tell my parents, but
I am terrified.
Would you help me do this please?”

It was almost
dark when Vic and
Jane arrived in Abu Dhabi, stopover point of their flight to
London. They approached over the clear waters of the Arabian Gulf
and glimpsed high buildings at the edge of the water before
settling onto a runway that shimmered with heat eddies in the late
afternoon light. They had three nights here and then their flight
went on via London to Glasgow, where Jane’s parents who had flown
direct would be waiting for them.

Vic had read the Sunday and
Monday papers with trepidation as they wa
ited to depart from Australia, but
there had been nothing about where Susan was or linking her to his
Jane. He was not convinced it was over but it was out of his
hands.

S
o he decided that he and his new bride,
along with little David and Annie should enjoy this visit to an
exotic location. Tomorrow they would do a boat trip out to sightsee
in the Gulf. The next day was a rest and relaxation day, visiting
the shopping centers and big buildings before an early departure on
the third morning for their London leg.

As they left their airport
terminal for the coach to the city the baking heat hit
them
. Vic
felt at home in this desert place, a different landscape but a
similar air-feel to his home. He wondered how he would handle the
cold rain and mist of Scotland after this blasting heat which
barely eased with the setting sun.

Their days passed like a magic interlude,
out in the sparkling Gulf waters on the first day, heat shimmering
off the shore horizon. On their second day they mostly lounged
around the pool, teaching their children to swim, with a brief
lunchtime foray to a huge shopping centre.

As Jane lay in the circle
of
Vic’s
arms on that last night in the Gulf, he asked her if she was still
as happy to be married. They had not talked about what happened on
the day with the journalist. With all the other activity of the
wedding it had largely passed her. He hoped he could now consign it
to the dustbin of history.

However
to this question, rather than
giving an immediate answer in her normal way, he felt Jane pause,
as if thinking. He looked at her closely. He found himself sinking
into her blue eyes. Just when he felt himself losing all other
threads of memory in this pool of light she spoke. “I was fully
happy before and now I am glad to be married. It has a feeling of
rightness for me and in making you the father of my
children.

“
One thing I do not understand
though is who that man was, why he asked that question, and what it
meant. I most don’t understand what it was that made you so angry.
I have never seen you angry before. With that man you frightened
me, not because I thought you would hurt me, but because you were
so quick to act against him. There was danger in you in that minute
that I did not know existed.

“
If I have done something that
caused your anger towards him I feel I need to know and yet the
knowledge scares me so. The only thing he said that made sense to
me was my name.

“
One day last Christmas, at the
farm in the country, I saw a piece paper with the travel bookings
for Tom and Elinor MacDonald. I knew it must be my parents, because
people called them Tom and Elinor. So it told me that, as their
daughter, my surname must have be MacDonald too.

“
I could not remember having
that name, but knew it must have been so. So I thought,
I have been married
before, that is where my babies came from, and that man’s surname
must have been Bennet
.

“
Then, when that man, Ross
Sangster, was asking me questions, he asked me to try and remember
being a little girl. I told him I remembered going to my
grandparents farm in Scotland. Since that day I have remembered how
people called my Susan, or Susie, or sometimes, “little M”, after
my aunt Emily. So then I knew that my other names were once, Susan
and Emily.

“
So, when that man came up to me
and said, “Susan Emily MacDonald,” I knew he was talking to me and
I wanted to help him. But when he asked me about marrying the best
friend of the man I killed I did not understand.

“
Did I crash a car and kill that
man and in doing so did I lose my memory?

“
Or did I cause some other
accident that killed him and if so what was it?

“
And why did him saying it make
you so angry that you punched him, over and over again, until he
fell to the ground?

“
So it has not spoilt being
married. But each day my mind asks these questions. Even though it
frightens me I think I need to know.”

Now it was Vic’s turn to think,
to try and wrestle a safe answer out of his mind that was true but
not dangerous.
To mask his uncertainty he put his fingers in her hair and
kissed her. She kissed him in return. Soon the question was lost in
other pleasures.

After, as she lay with hair
spilling into his face, she said.
“My question still remains from our
wedding day.”

He said,
“I will start to tell you, one
little bit at a time. But if I frighten you please tell me to
stop.”

“
Before I met you, you were with
my best friend. His name was Mark, Mark Bennet. He is the father of
your children. One day he died, I don’t think it was your fault,
but some people said you killed him. That man I hit wrote it in a
newspaper, saying other bad and untrue things about you too. So, on
our wedding day when he asked that question, I got very
angry.”

Jane nodded, “I am glad that is
all it was. That is all I need to know.
”

Vic felt relief that Jane had asked for
nothing further, though her lack of curiosity also troubled
him.

Instead s
he placed his hand on the
bottom of her belly and put her own hand over it. “Now I have
something to tell you. Under there a new person is growing, I can
feel his spirit touching mine like butterfly wings. I think his
name will be Vic. He will be our child, the product of love and
bodies joined.”

Next day they came on to
London
and
then flew on to Glasgow, having decided it was safest to go
straight there. From there they caught the train up into the
highlands with her parents. They marveled at the glorious scenery
of lochs and snow covered mountains.

Jane found more and more childhood
memories returned as she saw this place, she knew the mountain and
lake names, she remembered the little villages, and finally, as
they drew near to their own stop, she was bubbling with excitement.
As they came to the small village railway stop she could feel
herself bursting with impatience.

She saw her aunt in the
distance and knew her name without prompting.
“Aunt Ada,” she called out and
ran into her arms. “It is so good to see you and remember you. I
feared you would be strangers. I am so happy to know you, even
though it is only my memory from when I was a little
girl.”

They brought the new family to
their country house.
It was not so large and grand as in her childhood
mind, but was warm and comfortable, tucked into a hill with a lake
below, with her grandparents house just behind it.

As they looked out a late
afternoon mist was rising in the valley and far across the heather
hillside she saw deer heads, raised proud and tall against the
skyline. It felt so good to have returned to a place
full of
memories.

It was the Monday after the wedding of Vic
and Jane. Anne and David had decided to treat themselves to a
couple days in Alice Springs, before flying to Darwin for the rest
of the week to ensure that all the legal issues about Susan and Vic
were properly tidied away. Despite the minor hiccough of the
uninvited journalist on the Saturday, which they both had only
glimpsed and had not spoken of since, it had been a wonderful few
days.

The bride, still Susan in Anne’s mind,
looked radiant and spectacularly beautiful in her dress of fine
pale turquoise flowers set into delicate lace. Anne, as a
bridesmaid, had a soft turquoise toned dress. It matched perfectly
with both her auburn hair and the rich brown skin of Jillie,
similarly attired.

She had found Jillie and all Vic’s family to
be delightful people, so warm and welcoming to her and Susan, who
of course they called Janie now. It was funny how names rolled off
the tongue in this place, Annie, Jillie and Janie as the bride
group, little Annie and Davie as the flower and ring carriers, she
dark haired and cheeky, him blondish and serious.

She felt incredibly connected to these
children, perhaps because she and David had given them names and
were nominal godparents, even though missing at the baptism. But
they had both taken seriously the promises given to ensure these
kids were OK, whatever happened to the mother. Anne felt so blessed
that her prayers were answered with her friend returned to her.
Even though the damage to her was still writ large in the vacant
parts of her mind and her simplicity, she was there and that was
infinitely precious.

Today they had all waved their farewells
at the airport as the Cairns jet departed, and then had come back
to town, each couple or group to enjoy their own private time
before they went their separate ways in a day or two.

Tonight they were having a group private
dinner of all the remaining family and friends as a way to both say
goodbye and give thanks for this wondrous time. Now she and David
had decided to lunch in the Mall and do the local sights and
shopping before a quiet afternoon by the pool. Tomorrow they would
do the tourist trip out along the McDonnel Ranges to the
gorges.

They settled into a simple salad lunch
after a surfeit of rich food, she reading a magazine and David the
newspaper.

A woman came to their table, not a
waitress, clearly seeking Anne out. She must be older as her hair
was grey. Something about her was familiar, though Anne could not
recollect from where. She was softly spoken and polite and her
voice was young. Anne looked at her intently, trying to recognize
the familiarity. She realized she had glimpsed her at the wedding,
walking away, leading the journalist in a kindly manner. But that
was not the familiarity, it was in the face and on that day she had
only had a back view.

The woman said, “You are probably
wondering who I am and why I have come to you. My name is Cathy,
once Cathy Rodgers, though I use a different surname
now.”

With the words, it all came clear in Anne’s
mind. “Oh my God,” was all she could say, no other words would
come.

David looked up, he had been impervious
until now, but his brain was working fast, replaying the words and
joining the dots, “That Cathy. The one we have sought for over two
years now.”

Standing a few steps behind, as if
awaiting the outcome was the black man who Vic had punched. David
felt his gut tighten with anger at what this man had written, cause
of so many problems. But this girl was so polite that his anger
stayed contained. He invited her to join them, and then asked,
forcing politeness into his voice, “Is the man behind with
you?”

She looked at Jacob and nodded. “He has
come to make an apology for the harm he has done. I thought he
should begin with you, her best friends. But that is not why I
came. I came to seek your help for myself. I realize I cannot hide
away any longer but I do not know how to rejoin the world. I have
disguised myself and led a simple life for over three years
now.

“
I suppose I should just ring my
parents and ask them to come to me, but I find myself unable. Too
much has passed, with too much pain, to just go home again. But I
am tired of running and I am tired of hiding and I don’t want my
parents suffering to continue. I have asked Jacob to help me to
tell my story, perhaps in public and he has said he will. He will
write no more of Susan, she has earned her right to a new
life.