Lauren's Dilemma (24 page)

He never
left the property. If someone came to the house, he disappeared until they
left. His condition became so bad Laurie was living in limbo, waiting for
something to happen.

She had
read about Blair and Helen’s society wedding in Melbourne. It took place four weeks after she
had left Coolibah.

“Not one
person from the district was invited,” Mrs. McKinlay said with a derisive
sniff. “Think we aren’t good enough.” She collected the entire district’s
gossip on her fortnightly visits to town and relayed it all with relish. She
was not really a vindictive woman, and unashamedly Laurie encouraged her,
although only the Coolibah news interested her.

“Strange
marriage, though, Laurie. Blair spends all his time up here, while his wife
flits between Sydney and Melbourne.” She took a sip of tea. “Not right, if you
ask me.”

* * *

Laurie had
not left the property since her marriage. Her tentative request to accompany
his parents into town on one trip, brought on a fit of crying and shaking, on
Dick’s part and he had taken hours to snap out of it. His seesawing emotional
state constantly worried her. His stutter become so bad sometimes that she
could barely understand him. He would rub his cheek until it became red-raw.

Some days
he treated her in a brotherly fashion, laughing and teasing, or he might take
her out riding, but these episodes were becoming fewer. He never acted abusive
or vicious, but seemed to be sinking more deeply into a silent, troubled world
that she could not enter.

“Dick?”
They sat in the McKinlays’ sitting room having their supper. “Would you mind if
I went into town with your parents tomorrow?”

“No, I
don't want you to go.”

“I need
some new clothes. I've let my things out as much as I can, but there's no spare
seams left now.”

“Yes, son,
why don't you come, too? We could make a day of it. Perhaps have a meal at the
hotel,” George suggested.

“No.” Dick
bunched his fists on the arm of the chair. “I want Laurie to stay here with me.
You can buy clothes for her.”

“She hasn't
left here since your marriage, and she should really see a doctor now,” George
insisted.

“No!”
Dick’s eyes became wild as he came to kneel beside her chair. “Please, Laurie,
don't go,” he pleaded. “I hate staying on my own.”

“You could
help me choose some things for the baby.”

“You're
going to leave me. You won't come back once you go.”

“I will,
Dick, I promise.” He started crying, and she threw a desperate look at George.

“Come on,
son, be reasonable.”

“No.” He
shook his father's hand away.

“All right,
I won't go into town, if you don't want me to.” She gave in to his entreaties.
What else could she do?

He stood
up, great shudders racked his body and his upper lip was beaded with
perspiration. “You won't come back, just like the rest of them. I got buried,
and they left me. I could feel them running all over me.”

“They
wouldn't have meant to,” she soothed, wondering why he didn’t fear she might
run off when he went on his solitary rides.

“Dead, all
dead. Someone's blood dripped on my face. It was warm and sticky.” He scrubbed
at his cheek. “Get it off, get it off!” His voice rose hysterically. Horrified,
she watched a white-faced George deliver an open-handed blow to Dick’s face.
Not a particularly hard slap, yet it snapped Dick's head back. Without a word
he ran out of the room. Laurie started to follow, but her father-in-law stalled
her.

“Leave him
be. I'll get one of the men to drive you into town. I'll stay here.”

“It doesn't
matter. I'm his wife. I'll stay.”

“It isn't
right. I was against this marriage in the beginning, and I don't mind admitting
it. You've put up with more than any young woman should be expected to. Have
you looked at yourself lately, girl?”

“Yes.”

“You're
literally fading away. My boy is draining your youth. Go into town, buy some
pretty things.” He glanced at his wife. “Both of you. I'll stay with Dick.
He'll be all right with me.”

* * *

One of the
stockmen drove them into town next morning. Laurie wore a skirt with a white
lace blouse, the only thing she had that looked respectable. What a relief to
get out for a while and leave all her worries behind. After his terrible night,
Dick was still asleep when they left, which meant no upsetting scene as they
departed.

“I wish
he'd go to a doctor.” She tugged at a tendril of hair.
 
“Maybe they could give him something.”

“There's
nothing they can give my boy,” Mrs. McKinlay said sadly. “We got a full report
from the doctors when the army discharged him. Apart from his nerves, he’s got
a strained heart. D.A.H., they said. I think it means disorderly action of the
heart.
 
He should never have been
accepted in the first place. He was too young. You know he was at Lone Pine?”

“Yes, he
told me about it. His dreams are always the same. It must have been terrible
for him, and the memories won't go away and leave him in peace.”

“You take
Jim, our other boy. He's so different from Dick. They're complete opposites,
not only in looks but also in nature.”

“Do you
hear from him often? I mean, you only ever read out one of his letters.”

“On and
off. He was never much of a letter writer. Even when he was away at school his
letters were always short and infrequent.”

They lapsed
into silence. Laurie glancing around as they drove along felt like it was years
since she had passed this way before, with Blair. In reality it was only a few
months.

They came
upon the town suddenly, a long dusty street with sprawling, verandah-covered
shops on either side. It was similar to most small country towns, only the
stockyards, full of bawling cattle, made it different from Sandy Ridge,
because they were down at the end of the main street.

While Mrs.
McKinlay ordered their supplies, Laurie browsed through the haberdashery
section. She wanted to buy some lace and fine linen to start on the baby's
layette.

“Hello,
Mrs. McKinlay.” The achingly familiar voice caused her hand to tremble. Blair.
He had changed little, except for deep lines grooving both sides of his mouth,
and more numerous flecks of grey in his hair. By the dusty moleskins and work
shirt he wore, he had obviously brought cattle in to market.

“Hello,
Blair.”

His eyes
turned diamond hard as they swept her from head to foot. “Laurie.” He inclined
his head.

The urge to
reach out and touch him proved almost unendurable. She clenched her hands
behind her back to keep them under control. He started to move away, but Mrs.
McKinlay's question on Helen's whereabouts stopped him dead in his tracks.

“She's in Sydney.”

Laurie
noticed the bleakness in his eyes even as he averted his face.

“How's
Dick?” He dragged the words out.

“Not very
good. If it wasn’t for Laurie, he'd be a lot worse. Excuse me for a moment. I
want to catch Mrs. Crocker. Flora? Flora!” Mrs. McKinlay hurried towards a
thin, middle-aged woman.

“How have
you been, Blair?”

“All
right.” He stood motionless now his feet planted apart, one hand thrust deeply
into his pocket.

“When's the
baby due?” he asked abruptly.

“End of
April, early May, I'm not sure exactly.” She was purposely vague in case he
started doing calculations in his head.

The breath
whistled from between his clenched teeth. “Dick looking forward to the blessed
event?” His voice sounded rough as gravel.

“Yes.
 
Can't we still be friends, Blair?” She
despised the pleading note in her voice but couldn’t help it.

“I don't
think so.”

“When is
Helen coming back?” The question fell out of its own volition.

His mouth
twisted, but his voice remained even. “When she's ready, I suppose.
 
She isn’t fond of country life; the Melbourne
and Sydney social scenes are more her setting.”

“I'm
sorry.”

He
shrugged. “It's better for both of us this way. I say, Laurie, is everything
all right? You've gone as white as death.”

“Dick had
one of his turns last night, so none of us got much sleep.” She brushed a hand
wearily across her damp forehead, trying to hide her distress.

“Does he
have many of these turns?” An impersonal hand at one elbow steered her towards
a chair. “You’d better sit down before you collapse. I suppose one could say
you're well and truly earning your money.”

“I didn't
marry Dick for his money.”

“For love?”
he sneered.

“Not that,
either.”

“Why did
you do it, Laurie?” His eyes impaled her.

“I don't
expect you to understand.” Her lips trembled. “I couldn't bear to see you
married to Helen. I cared too much for you.”

He snorted
his disgust. “I loved you, Laurie. I would have married you once I'd sorted
things out with Helen.” His confession slammed into her like a brick wall. “You
couldn't wait, though, could you? Had to force Dick to the altar by letting him
compromise you.”

“It wasn't
like that. Please, you have to believe me. I nearly drowned. If Dick hadn't
dived into the water to save me, I'd have died.”

He stared
at her, his face cold and rigid, with not one vestige of warmth in it.

“It's true.
When the bridge washed away, Bolinda Vale and I were halfway across; I’m a poor
swimmer. Anyway, you should talk.” Her bitterness spilled out. “After making
love to me, you cried out for Helen. How do you think that made me feel? How
many times did Helen share your bed before you got married?”

It gave her
no satisfaction to watch the color draining out of his face. “None of your
business,” he snarled, swinging on his heel and limping towards the door.

“Are you
all right, dear?” Mrs. McKinlay clomped back.

“I felt a
bit faint, but I'm all right now. I picked out the things I wanted, but I
haven't paid for them yet,” she gabbled, wondering how she could even speak
without collapsing onto the floor in a screaming heap.

“Put them
on our account.”

“No, thank
you, it's all right. I've got money of my own.”

“It goes on
our account, my husband's instructions. You’re Dick's wife now, and that's the
way of it.” She was so adamant Laurie gave up arguing. Blair had loved her. She
had loved him, yet each of them had married someone else. I think I'd have
preferred it if he’d said he hated me, she thought wretchedly.

They
partook of tea and cakes at a small tearoom, but she might as well have been
eating paper, for all the taste they had. When they arrived back at the buggy,
the man who brought them into town had already loaded up their purchases and
now lounged against a nearby verandah post smoking a cigarette. He was in his
sixties as were most farm workers now. All the young men were away fighting in France or Egypt.

The
afternoon sun beat down without mercy on the long drive home. Laurie was glad
her wide-brimmed straw hat sheltered her complexion from the fiercest rays.

A pale,
subdued Dick greeted them on their return.

“Are you
feeling better?” she asked.

He nodded.
“Did you get what you wanted?”

“Yes,
materials were plentiful, but other things are in short supply.” He helped her
bring the shopping in without speaking further.

“Where's
your father?”
 
Mrs. McKinlay asked him.

“Down with
the horses. I stayed with him for a while, but I wanted to wait here for you
both. Sorry about last night, Laurie.” He scrubbed his fingers through his
hair.

“It's all
right. I bought you a present.”

“Did you?”
His eyes lit up as she handed him a tin of his favorite sweets. It took so
little to make him happy. Poor Dick. What must he have been like before the war
shattered him?

* * *

They spent
a pleasant evening. After dinner they all sat in the drawing room and Dick
played the piano. He was an excellent pianist, combining a mixture of classical
music and bush ballads, and they enjoyed a sing-along. Later, he and Laurie
shared a cool drink on the side verandah.

“Let's go
for a walk,” he suggested. She nodded her agreement.

He held her
hand as they wandered through the gardens, savoring the perfume of Mrs.
McKinlay's roses. The river turned out to be his ultimate destination. It was
very quiet there; only the slight rustling of the gum trees broke the
stillness.

“Feel like
a swim?”

“A swim? I
don't think so. I don't have anything to wear.” She gave a nervous giggle.