The Lost Valley

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The next few days were the happiest of Tom’s life. Afternoons with Emma at the zoo. Coming home together. Sharing hopes and dreams as they held hands on the tram. Snatching time alone after dinner. When it got late, and they finally had to drag themselves away from each other, Tom lay sleepless in his bed for hours, mind brimming with Emma.

It was Friday morning and Tom had spent a restless night punctuated by dreams of Binburra that left him homesick. He rose at sunrise, grabbed some bread and cheese and slipped out the back gate. A windy late-spring day beckoned. He strolled through the chilly streets to the harbour and along the foreshore of Sullivan’s Cove. Smelling the salty sea-spray. Watching the tide come in. Hearing the wild cry of gulls from beyond the breakwater. Hobart’s civilised façade ended at the ocean’s edge – an oddly comforting thought.

Tom walked past the yacht club. Past grand old houses along the esplanade. Past cottages of seafarers and shipbuilders. Past rows of sandstone warehouses at Salamanca Place and Constitution Dock. All the way to the shipyards of Battery Point.

The wharf was abuzz, despite the early hour. Sail-makers and coopers went about their trades. The air throbbed with the ring of blacksmiths’ hammers, the growl of red-glowing rivet guns and the clash of chisels and welders. Cranes angled crazily against the pale sky. Dozens of boats, in various stages of construction and maintenance, lined the waterfront. Some mere skeletons. Some almost complete, shiny with fresh paint and the promise of adventure. Others rocked to and fro on their moorings, dancing to the rhythm of the waves. The morning harbour was an exciting place. No wonder Harry loved it here.

Tom wandered past the slips and dry docks of various shipbuilders until he came to the gates of Abbott & Son – the shipyard his father had lost in the stock market crash. It still bore their family name, a name that had stood for quality Tasmanian boat building for more than a century.

‘One day, I’ll buy the yard back,’ Harry had told him. ‘I’ll make it bigger and better than ever.’ Tom didn’t doubt it. When his brother set his mind to something, he rarely failed.

Tom sat on a bollard to eat his bread and cheese, watching the aerial acrobatics of shearwaters and terns soaring over the harbour. A flotilla of pelicans sailed by. And there, right above him, a wandering albatross. It caught a high crosswind and wheeled away. Tom watched the giant seabird until it became a mere speck on the horizon, then disappeared altogether. The old yearning gripped him. Boats were fun, but nothing could beat the joy of flight.

Was his brother here somewhere? Maybe he was still with Celeste. Tom had seen her last night, hanging around on the street outside the house, waiting for Harry. A different creature altogether from his shy, serious Emma. Buxom with a blonde bob, glamourous in the glow of a streetlight. Wearing rouge, and lipstick, and a skirt above her knee. Looking at least eighteen. How the hell did Harry do it? Tom grinned and decided to stick around for a while, to see if he showed up. Maybe he’d pluck up the courage to ask him.

Time slipped away. Tom was enjoying the hustle and bustle of the wharves. Men measuring sails. The smell of turpentine and tar. Ship chandlers making deliveries. Tallow and twine. Barrels of oil. Cages of ducks and chickens. The sun sailed high in the sky before Tom gave up waiting for Harry and headed back along the foreshore, lost once more in thoughts of Emma. That first, delicious kiss and all those that had followed. His brother could keep Celeste and others like her. Emma was the girl for Tom, and he wanted to be home when she got back from work.

Twenty minutes later, Tom slipped in the back gate to find Nana standing out on the porch, watching for him. ‘I’m glad you’re back. Come to the parlour. We need to talk.’

‘Go home? Why?’ said Tom. ‘I thought we were staying in Hobart until Christmas.’

‘I’ve been doing a great deal of thinking,’ said Nana. ‘You know my health hasn’t been the best lately, and there’s something important I want to show you, back at Binburra.’

He wasn’t sure if the tremor in her voice was from illness or emotion.

‘Somewhere special I need to take you, before I get too old. And anyway, I thought you couldn’t wait to get back?’

Tom wasn’t sure what to say. Last night he’d dreamed of Binburra. Its upland button-grass clearings and stands of beech. Its pure, strong mornings, and the special clarity of light that meant you could see forever. The eagle from Hobart Zoo was there with him; free from its dingy cage, feathers shining, flying high towards the sun. And Karma, lounging on a fallen King Billy pine tree, gracing the elemental landscape, back where she belonged. He’d woken to a powerful longing for home, but what about Emma? He loved her. He wouldn’t leave her. Not for Nana. Not for anyone.

Nana saw through his confusion, as she always did. ‘Emma received a telegram this morning. Bad news, I’m afraid. Her mother has had a major stroke.’ She put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Emma left for Launceston an hour ago. She asked me to say goodbye.’

Tom couldn’t get his head around the news. ‘What about her scholarship?’

‘The College will keep it open as long as they can. Emma’s one of their most talented students, but apparently there’s nobody else to care for her mother. Mrs Starr requires ‘round the clock nursing. Life can be so unfair.’

This was more than unfair. Tom could hear Emma’s voice in his head, full of determination and hope for the future. ‘I’m not going to be a shop girl forever. I’m going to be a doctor and find a cure for Mum’s arthritis. It’s in her fingers and makes it hard for her to sew. Doctors earn lots of money, so she won’t even have to sew if she doesn’t want to. She can be a lady of leisure.’

‘Sorry, Tom. I gather you’ve grown rather fond of her.’

Tom did not feel like discussing his feelings for Emma with his grandmother. ‘Harry and I were supposed to start school here. What about our education?’

Nana smiled. ‘That’s the first time I’ve known you to be worried about your education.’

Tom couldn’t see the funny side.

‘I’ll engage a tutor,’ she said.

‘After what happened to the last one?’

‘I’m sure we’ll be able to keep a suitable teacher, without Harry to cause trouble.’

‘Without Harry?’ Nana was making less and less sense.

‘Hasn’t he told you? Your brother won’t be coming home with us. He’s found himself a position at one of the shipyards.’

Oh. Tom bit his lip so hard it hurt. So that’s why Harry had let him have the best bedroom. He hadn’t planned on staying long. It came as a wrench to think his twin hadn’t wanted to share his plans. ‘Has he landed a job with Abbott & Son?’

‘Sadly no, although of course that was his preference. Harry will work at the next yard – Purton & Featherby. An apprentice shipwright with accommodation at the wharf. Harry can follow his passion and forge a career at the same time. Doing a man’s job, a hard day’s work, knowing the pride of earning a wage. Perhaps it will make him grow up, although I don’t know what Bertha will say about him taking up a trade and not finishing school.’ Nana sighed and gave Tom a heartfelt hug. ‘It’s a shock, I know, but just between us, Harry’s such a tearaway. Sometimes he’s too much for me.’

For me too, thought Tom, recalling that terrifying night at the waterfall. The strange sensation of falling through space. A sudden shiver passed through him, the kind Nana said was caused by someone walking over your future grave. He cast the feeling aside, missing Harry already, despite everything. He could see past his brother’s faults, knew the pain that lived at the core of him. And they’d always been together. Always.

‘What about you, Tom? What do you want to do? You don’t have to go on to university, in spite of what Grandma Bertha says.’ Nana patted his hand. ‘We could ask around at the aero club, find you an engineering apprenticeship or something similar for next year?’

His heart leaped at the possibility. Spending his days surrounded by planes. Understanding them from the inside out. Learning to fly.

‘What about you, Nana? You’d be all alone again.’

‘You’re a good boy, Tom. A fine boy. I’d hate to lose you, but I’d be a selfish old woman to stand in your way.’ A series of dry, hacking coughs stole her breath.

Tom jumped to his feet. ‘Stay there. I’ll make you some of that special tea.’ Nana nodded, still unable to speak.

Tom filled the kettle in the kitchen and put it on the gas range. He found the ginger jar, sliced up a few pieces and dropped them into Nana’s favourite blue teapot. All in slow motion. He needed time to think. His initial enthusiasm for staying in Hobart was slipping away. So much had changed in the space of one morning. It would be lonely here with Emma gone and Harry caught up in a new life.

And he would miss Nana. She wasn’t well. The numerous doctor appointments hadn’t seemed to help. If anything, her cough was worse than ever. A surge of love claimed him. His grandmother had been there for him at the darkest point in his life; been there when everyone else turned away. Well, now she needed him, and he wasn’t about to let her down.

The whistling kettle jolted him from his thoughts. He poured boiling water into the pot, added a dipper of honey, took the tray into the parlour and poured Nana a cuppa.

She indicated the teapot. ‘Aren’t you having one?’

He made a face. ‘There’s not enough money in Hobart for me to drink ginger tea.’

She laughed and took a sip. ‘Ah, that’s good.’

‘What about the zoo?’ said Tom. ‘Those animals will be in trouble without Emma.’

‘I’ve already been to see Arthur Reid, the curator. A wonderful man. Such a shame about his eye. Do you know Hobart Council refuses to help with his medical fees, even though he was injured in the course of duty?’ She pursed her lips in disapproval. ‘I’ve arranged for a sum of money to be deposited into the zoo’s account on a monthly basis. It will allow him to feed the animals properly, and employ an experienced person to assist his daughter, Alison.’

‘Does Emma know?’

‘I told her before she left. It seemed to be a great comfort to her.’ Nana fixed warm, knowing eyes on him. ‘She asked me to say goodbye. Emma seems very fond of you, too.’ She took a small envelope from her pocket and handed it over. He thought about opening it later, in private, but couldn’t wait.

‘My darling Tom. Forgive me for leaving in such haste. I will never forget you. Love Emma.’

Tom fought back tears.

Nana’s breath grew more laboured. Her face turned pale and she started to cough. After a few more sips of tea the coughing subsided. Tom studied his grandmother’s face. In her youth she’d been a great beauty, pursued by two of Tasmania’s wealthiest men. More than a hint of that beauty remained in her classic features, her regal bearing, her full, wavy hair that still retained some of its chestnut colour. In her emerald eyes.

Mama had been the only person in his family to defend Nana’s decision to leave her husband. ‘Who knows what is in another’s heart?’ she said one day, after Grandma Bertha embarked on a bitter tirade against his grandmother. ‘Love is mysterious and strange, Tom. It lies where it falls, and does not always obey the rules we lay down for it.’

Tom poured Nana more tea.

‘Thank you dear. You always know exactly how to make me feel better.’

Her heartfelt words sealed his decision. ‘I don’t want to stay in Hobart.’ He leaned over and kissed her cheek. ‘Let’s go home.’