The Memory Tree (17 page)

It all changed when Zav simultaneously decided to join the army and marry Kate. I can’t help but think that the first was more important to him. That he would have married his girlfriend at the time, whoever she was. Was the choice my father made one of timing? Or was it, as he believed, true love? Whatever. We do know that he liked a drama and can imagine that the thought of saying goodbye to a dewy young bride as he marched off to war appealed to him on all fronts.

When he went to tell Hal of his decision, he was annoyed to see Godown sitting with his father reading from the Bible. Hal was frowning, nodding his head every now and then and muttering an
Amen
or
Praise the Lord
with an intensity that Zav always found both irritating and embarrassing. He cleared his throat and the two men looked up.

‘Dad, I need to speak to you.’

‘What is it, son?’

Zav looked meaningfully at Godown. ‘It’s private.’

Hal was puzzled. ‘There’s only us here.’

Godown closed the Bible and stood up. ‘Father–son thing, I think, Hal.’ And with a wink at the fuming Zav, he ambled out the door.

Despite his annoyance at the interruption, Hal was intrigued. Zav never confided in him. ‘Beer?’ He topped up his own glass and handed another to Zav who took a sip before speaking.

‘I’ve got my papers. I have to report for basic training in July.’

Hal’s heart sank. ‘So soon?’ He had begun to look older, recently. There was a good sprinkling of grey in his still-thick hair and the lines down the sides of his mouth had deepened. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’

‘We’ve been through all that before, Dad. And there’s something else. Kate and I have decided to get married before I go.’

‘Married!’ Hal looked at his son with tears in his eyes. ‘I can’t tell you how happy I am,’ he said, pumping the young man’s hand. ‘She’s a great girl, our little Kate. A great girl.’

Our little Kate
. Zav had never felt so close to his father. ‘She
is
a great girl isn’t she?’ he said almost shyly.

But Hal was off on a wave of enthusiasm. ‘Sealie,’ he called. ‘Mrs . . .’ He stopped and looked at Zav. ‘We can tell the others?’

Zav hesitated a second before replying. This made it all so real. So terrifyingly real. He pulled himself up sharply. He and Kate loved each other. Of course they did. Why waste time? ‘Call them in. Let me tell them, though.’ He saw that Hal was almost dancing in an effort to contain his excitement.

‘We can have the wedding here. I’ll get a marquee. Let’s see . . . we can fit about a hundred and forty, maybe a hundred and fifty people comfortably . . .’ Sealie and Mrs Mac came in, followed by Godown. ‘Guess what?’

‘My news, Dad.’

Hal muttered a
sorry
as the others looked at Zav. ‘What?’ said Sealie. ‘What?’

No-one was more excited that day than Hal. He rushed off for more glasses and a bottle of champagne as the other three gathered around Zav, all talking at once.

Sealie was delighted. ‘A wedding? Fab! When? Have you set a date?’

‘We thought March. I’m off to Pucka on the third of July.’

In one gulp, all sound was swallowed up. Off to Puckapunyal. To become a soldier. What do you say to news like that? Mrs Mac had to restrain herself. She remembered the last war: the telegrams, the lists in the newspapers, the grieving parents. Her own loss, the one she had tried so hard to suppress, came back with a sharpness that almost took her breath.
Don’t go, Zav. It’s not our war.
She heard the words in her head, but they couldn’t or wouldn’t break through. She gave him a hug and a watery smile then hid her trembling hands in her cardigan pockets. She looked helplessly at Godown.

He, too, looked grave. He had experienced three years of war and knew that even if you survived, the price was high. He had never told Sealie the end of the story about his buddy and the butterfly. That the beauty of the butterfly and light in Gabriel’s face had been extinguished in the same instant by a sniper’s bullet. He laughed about the butterfly because if he cried, he wasn’t sure he could ever stop.

It was Sealie, a romantic almost-seventeen, who broke the silence. ‘What a shame you can’t get married after you go in. You could wear your uniform!’

The first time he held me he was in uniform. And very handsome he was too.

Godown followed Mrs Mac out to the kitchen, where she stood at the window, dabbing at her eyes with her apron.

‘Hey, Mrs Mac-Lennon, you okay?’

She nodded without turning her head.

Godown stood beside her and touched her wet cheek. ‘No tears. Our boy—he’ll be just fine.’

‘Of course he will. I’m just a silly, sentimental woman.’

‘Never that. You’re never that.’

Bob wasn’t sure how to approach Hal on the subject of money. This wedding thing was getting way out of hand. Kate’s father had deserted the family many years ago, leaving her mother to struggle with bringing up three children on a shop assistant’s wages.

‘Not to worry, Betty,’ Hal had told her when they met. ‘It’ll be my pleasure to pay for the wedding. My way of welcoming little Kate into the family. We’re very fond of her, you know.’

Kate’s mother acquiesced with some relief and Hal set about spending with a gleeful indifference to the rapidly rising cost. He and Kate could be seen with their heads together discussing food, flowers, music—all the things that she might normally have discussed with her mother. Because of her background, Kate was quite frugal, but she was caught up in Hal’s disregard for cost and found that she only had to mention orchids and orchids appeared on the ever-growing list. Silk, she said and her gown became silk. Hal liked to think of himself as Kate’s—well, not exactly fairy godmother, but something along those lines.

Finally, Bob felt he had to say something. None of the others knew Hal’s financial situation, and he felt responsible for his friend’s welfare. He’d seen these spending sprees a couple of times before and managed to pull Hal out before too much damage was done, but when it came to Zav’s wedding— Bob feared he might sound niggardly if he demurred about the cost. Nevertheless, he steeled himself to speak.

‘So you see, Hal,’ he concluded, as the two men sat over a beer. ‘You’re beginning to deplete your capital. Perhaps if you gave up a couple of things—the full choir, for instance and the horse and carriage—cut down the guest list a bit . . . It would still be a great wedding.’

Hal waved a dismissive hand. ‘My son. My money.’ He paused for emphasis. ‘My business.’

By now, Bob was able to read the stubborn set of Hal’s jaw. ‘As long as you know what you’re doing.’

But Hal was looking back at the other man with disquiet. Here was someone whom he had believed was his friend, but who was brazenly trying to sabotage the wedding. The one thing he knew would hurt Hal most. As the Voice had predicted, the forces arraigned against him were beginning to come into the open. Well, forewarned was forearmed. Hal knew what he had to do.

Bob was surprised when he didn’t receive an invitation to the wedding but assumed it had been lost in the mail. He said as much to Mrs Mac, who reddened as she explained.

‘Mr R has sort of
taken against
you since you talked about the money.’

‘Taken against me?’

‘Like he took against Father Murphy. Sometimes he just—
takes against
people.’

Sometimes he did—often without reason. It had begun to affect their business. Bob saw his concern reflected in Mrs Mac’s eyes.

‘You, his oldest friend. It doesn’t make sense.’

But they both understood that this was true of much of Hal’s behaviour.

‘Has he seen anyone yet?’

In those days mental illness was a source of shame. Dr Plunket had tried to advise Hal and his family that he needed help, but found a stubborn resistance on all sides. That he appeared normal most of the time allowed them to argue that there was nothing wrong with him. He was just prone to occasional moods. They called them his
highs
and
lows
.
Your father’s a bit low today
or
Watch out. Dad’s on a high
. Keith Plunket prescribed sleeping pills, but knew he was out of his depth.

‘Dr Plunket tried to get him to see a psychiatrist, but then Mr R took against the doctor.’ Mrs Mac was indignant. ‘I don’t blame him for that. It’s not as though Mr R is mad or something. He just needs a tonic and a good holiday.’

Bob thought differently, but kept his counsel.

I guess Hal should have been born forty, fifty years later. Things might have turned out differently but there’s not much point in wondering. That’s the card he was dealt.

At first, Zav was delighted to have his father take so much interest in him and his wedding, but even he began to worry about the cost. He joined Hal and Kate one night as they pored over their list. ‘Do we really need to hire a grand piano? Can’t we use our upright?’

‘Silly old Zav.’ Kate had agreed to the grand piano. Hal’s extravagance was infectious.

‘What about the catering? Do we really need five courses?’ Hal swatted away this concern as though it were a fly.

Zav was firm on one thing and Hal agreed. Kate had wanted to be married in church, but Zav insisted they be married under the magnolia tree. ‘It’s the one thing I’m asking for,’ he said. ‘We can have a priest or a minister—I don’t care. As long as it’s someone who’ll do it from home.’

‘Of course, darling.’ Kate was having the time of her life and could afford to be generous. ‘I’d like to have Sealie as my bridesmaid, too—if that’s alright with you, of course.’

As the spending continued, Zav decided it was best to tackle Kate alone and was mortified when she burst into tears. ‘Your father’s so kind. I don’t want to disappoint him. Please.’ So Zav gave up.

Three days before the wedding, Sealie was looking for her brother and some instinct led her to the cupboard under the stairs. ‘Zav?’ She pushed the door and heard the familiar scraping sound. ‘Zav, are you okay?’

‘Just getting away from the wedding for a bit,’ he said glumly. ‘You’d think Kate was his daughter the way he’s carrying on.’