FOLLOW THE MORNING STAR (62 page)

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Authors: DI MORRISSEY

BOOK: FOLLOW THE MORNING STAR
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As the days went by, Jenni and Tango relaxed more and more with one another and Jenni began to put her feelings for TR into perspective. The more time she spent with Tango, the more she realised that her feelings for him were intensifying. The confusion of the past few months fell away and Jenni finally understood where her future lay.

Towards the end of the week, Tango announced that they were going to a polo match. Mum Ryan packed them an elegant picnic which Tango put in the back of the LandCruiser with the ice cooler of champagne, water and soft drinks, and all his gear. They joined several of Tango’s friends and their families and Jenni, who’d heard so much about the polo social set, found herself amongst a delightful group.

During the lunch break Tango put down his orange juice and asked Jenni to come and see
some of the horses with him. ‘I’m changing ponies for the next game, so I want to check some girths and bandages. How did you enjoy the morning’s play?’

‘Fabulous. It was really exciting. Though it seems hard on the horses. Congratulations on your goal, by the way.’

Tango brushed the compliment aside but he looked pleased. ‘My pony turns fast, he put me in the right spot at the right time.’

Even though Jenni didn’t know the intricacies of the game, she had been able to appreciate Tango’s fast and deft nearside cut shot that clicked cleanly against his mallet, shooting the ball straight through the goal as the chukka ended. The crowd had cheered as the score levelled.

‘And what do you think of my friends?’ asked Tango. ‘Some are business people in the district, most own properties around here. I think they all like you.’ He gave her a glad smile.

Jenni blushed slightly. ‘They’re really lovely. I feel so at ease with them. They’re not the snobs I’d heard about at all.’

‘Ah, this is a real game, not a social one. We all come to see the match, not be seen by others,’ chuckled Tango. He linked his arm through hers as they walked, and gave her a friendly squeeze. ‘Reckon you could cope with life round here?’

Jenni looked up and gave him a quick smile. ‘Depends. On quite a few things. But I’m having a lovely time. Thank you.’

Impulsively Tango leaned down and kissed
the tip of her nose. Then he drew her face to his and kissed her lightly on the mouth. It was a tender kiss that lingered like a butterfly on a flower, but it was sensual too, with a hint of arousal kept in check. It was a kiss that sealed a friendship. Aware they were approaching people near the horses, they drew apart. Jenni knew something had happened between them, but there was no rush. They had lots of time to explore this delicate, new awareness that had begun to blossom.

Saskia drove home in her new Toyota LandCruiser bought with her race winnings and flew through the house like a tornado. She fell in love with the baby camel and named her Lalla, then she phoned Dingo, who said he and TR were flying over and they’d see her tomorrow night.

That night Henri phoned from New York and spent a long time talking to Queenie and caught up on the progress of her fashion enterprise.

‘There’s tremendous interest already,’ she told him. ‘There was a preview in the
Australian
colour magazine and we’re getting orders and enquiries from everywhere. It seems to have captured everyone’s imagination. The nostalgia attached to the wool industry is tremendous and there seems to be a feeling that wool will come good again. Australia and wool are synonymous and the loyalty goes from graziers to mums who knit. We’ve tapped into a nerve that runs from the city to the country. If we lose our wool industry we lose part of our
heritage, so Tingulla Fashions has come along at the right time. It’s not just us making wool and leather gear, but offering a way out and forward for lots of others involved in the industry,’ said Queenie, then laughed lightly at her passionate speech.

‘So your company offers new and practical solutions. No industry can continue living in the past, doing things as they’ve always been done,’ agreed Henri. ‘And I would say having your Countess Magda up front is a terrific PR coup.’

‘Sarah has outdone herself again,’ said Queenie. ‘She’s got a film crew coming up here to film me and Tingulla as well — the source of the inspiration, she calls it! And tickets to the launch are like hen’s teeth. Which is great because the money raised is going to Auntie Maud’s Kui House project. In fact, Maud’s here now with some of her kids.’

‘Sounds like you have your hands full. And TR?’ asked Henri gently.

Queenie sighed. ‘He and Dingo arrive tomorrow. I’m hoping all this togetherness will bring back some of the happy times. He wanted to be on his own. And now that physically he is almost better I’m hoping we can get on with our life together as best we can.’

‘I hope things work out for you, Queenie. You know I’m here should you need me.’

‘I know, thank you, Henri. You are such a dear friend.’

Henri changed the subject. ‘Now, get me the birthday girl, I have to tell her what her present is, I can’t send it exactly.’

‘I’m glad to hear that! You wouldn’t believe the stuff that has been turning up here. Dingo sent a camel and two girlfriends sent her a canoe for paddling up and down the river!’

Saskia spoke to Henri and then danced into the sitting room, clapping her hands together. ‘Mum, listen to what Henri has given me — a month in New York! Flying me over, I can stay in his apartment, and see the sights and some shows. Can you believe it?’

‘Darling, how wonderful,’ said Queenie smiling at her exuberant daughter.

‘And I suppose we get to babysit Miss Lalla?’ said Millie with a wink.

The next morning Tango and Jenni drove in from Guneda. Tango rushed into the house to find Saskia. Hugging her, he announced her present was round the back with Jenni. Calling Queenie he led them out to where Jenni waited with his gift.

They all stopped and stared and Saskia was speechless. Jenni was holding the most beautiful little colt she’d ever seen. His red-gold coat glinted in the morning sun, his long creamy mane and tail looked like spun silk, and in the centre of his forehead was a perfect white star.

‘Happy Birthday, Sas,’ said Tango gently as Jenni led the little horse forward. Saskia hugged her brother tightly, too overcome to speak.

Queenie went to the horse and stroked him. ‘You’re a beautiful creature,’ she said softly.

‘I love his long legs, he looks like a ballet dancer. Everyone at Guneda says he has
champion written all over him. Young Dennis made Tango promise he could come and see him whenever he liked,’ said Jenni.

Saskia was so overwhelmed by excitement, surprise and happiness that she was almost in tears. ‘He’s just so beautiful and has such loving gentle eyes. Oh, Tango, are you sure you want to part with him?’

Millie appeared behind them with her hands on her hips. ‘What’s this? This place is gettin’ like a zoo!’

Guests began to assemble at Tingulla and there were people everywhere. Millie and Auntie Maud made endless batches of tea and scones and the house was filled with laughter and young people. Ruthie and Ernie drifted shyly through the groups, both nervous about the coming nuptials and being the centre of so much attention.

The arrival of Dingo and TR was low key. They drove up in the early evening and walked into the house. Jenni spotted them and hurried over to give them both a hug. Millie pounced on them at the same time and Queenie turned at the sound of Dingo’s hearty laugh. Her heart constricted at the sight of TR and she went towards them. Dingo kissed her and was dragged away by Millie to meet Maud.

TR gave a half smile and kissed Queenie on the cheek. ‘Looks like a bit of a full house. You got everything under control?’ he asked. She nodded and he gazed about him. ‘I’ll just drop my bag and get into the thick of it,’ he joked, moving away.

He dropped his bag in the room downstairs and while Queenie had hoped he might have gone to their bedroom upstairs, she realised she mustn’t push matters right at the moment. There wouldn’t be any point in talking to him about their future until after everyone had left. A knot formed and stayed in the pit of her stomach as she wondered just what TR planned to do about their future.

After their initial greeting, Queenie and TR were never alone, and Queenie wondered if he had made sure this was the case. She caught him watching her from time to time, but she couldn’t read the expression in his steady blue eyes.

The Friday night turned into Ernie’s bachelor farewell party and what was dubbed the preparty party. Tables were set along the verandah for a cold supper of ham, roast beef and salads. Alf had insisted on doing it all with help from the four Aboriginal kids and had given Millie and Maud the night off. ‘I’ll have these kids trained as sous chefs before you know it,’ he declared.

Jim settled down with a beer where Dingo was holding court, commenting, ‘Millie and her new mate haven’t stopped talkin’ since they met’.

Indoors Saskia, Jenni and Tango began playing the old Pianola, singing all their grandparents’ favourites. Snowy sat quietly in the shadows, nodding and smiling to himself and occasionally dropping off to sleep. TR sat halfway along the verandah between the main group and the young people in the music
room. Queenie moved between all of them, attending to last-minute details, too tense to relax.

Coming downstairs after helping Ruthie lay out her wedding gown and pack a bag for the honeymoon — a week on Neptune Island courtesy of Alf — Queenie saw TR drift into the music room. She went in after him and, going to the little set of drawers next to the games table, she took out a small silver harmonica and handed it to him. He stared at it blankly then looked at her, puzzled.

‘See if you can play it,’ she prompted.

He shrugged and nestled it in his hand and lifted it to his lips as Tango started to pedal the Pianola and the strains of ‘Danny Boy’ filled the room. The harmonising sweet sounds of the little harmonica blended with the music as TR closed his eyes and played with the natural skill and gift he’d always had. In his mind’s eye he saw this scene again — he was playing this same song at the piano, and standing opposite him was a young Queenie in a silvery dress with jasmine flowers in her long hair.

He opened his eyes and saw Queenie watching him, a loving smile about her lips, her face still beautiful, just softened with time. Her hair was piled on top of her head and a diamond clasp shone in her upswept hair. A look of such hope and desire burned in the depths of her emerald eyes that he couldn’t bear the intensity of her gaze and turned away guiltily.

Her heart aching, Queenie walked outside into the garden and paced across the dark grass. She passed Jim and Millie’s cottage and
saw a light burning there. Through the window she could see Millie and Maud at the kitchen table. How well they were getting on together, she thought, but suddenly Millie dropped her face into her hands and appeared to be crying. Queenie rushed through the screen door without knocking. ‘Millie? Is everything all right? I was just passing and couldn’t help seeing in . . . ’ She stopped as Millie and Maud sat staring at her. Both looked teary.

‘Sit down, luv. I’ll put the kettle on,’ Millie rose and went to the sink to fill the kettle. Queenie looked questioningly at Auntie Maud who pointed at the chair and Queenie sat down. ‘Millie and me bin talkin’ a fair bit as you might’ve noticed,’ began Maud with a slight smile. Taking a deep breath she continued as Millie made a pot of tea in a somewhat distracted manner.

‘We figured being mixed-blood girls we probably had things in common and we started tellin’ each other ‘bout our childhoods an’ young days, y’know . . . ’ Maud glanced over at Millie and Queenie wondered where Maud’s usual insouciance had gone. She stumbled over her words as she spoke. ‘Well ya’ see, it seems we have the same story . . . me ’n’ her . . . ’ She looked at Millie again.

Millie put down the cup and turned to face Queenie. ‘What she’s sayin’ is that we is sisters. I don’ mean sisters under the skin. I mean real sisters.’

‘We got the same mumma,’ explained Maud.

Queenie’s jaw dropped. ‘What! Are you sure? Positively sure? I mean, how?’

‘We know all the names and little stories, Queenie.’ Millie moved over to stand beside Maud, putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘From what we both remember when we was taken away from our mother and the tings we bin told by the nuns, we know.’

‘We was split up right away. I was a bit younger and we was sent different places. We kin check all this but we know, fer sure, who we are.’ said Maud with conviction, adding, ‘It’s a bit of a shock, but.’

Suddenly, looking at them both, Queenie realised how similar they were. She hadn’t paid much attention before, they were both mature plump ladies of mixed Aboriginal and white descent. But now she knew what it was about Auntie Maud’s smile she’d always liked — it was the same as Millie’s. She knew too that these women shared a common bond of family and kinship, of hardship, of good-hearted devotion to others.

Queenie rose and went to Millie who had been so much a part of her own family and whom she regarded as her spiritual mother. She hugged her tightly and Millie burst into tears.

‘Never thought, after all these years. So alone . . . lost everyone, never had any kids . . . just me ’n’ Jim . . . ’

‘Oh Millie . . . ’ Queenie was crying too as Maud came and embraced them both. Millie was first to wipe her eyes with the back of her hands. ‘The kettle’s boiling . . . Oh my.’

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