Family Connections Read online

  Family Connections

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  TITLE PAGE

  ­CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  EPILOGUE

  COPYRIGHT

  ­CHAPTER 1

  Perth, Western Australia. March

  It was the first month of autumn but the weather was still hot. Gina Porter wiped the sweat from her brow as she braced herself mentally to clear another room of her father’s possessions. His hoarding had been a joke in the family for years but now that he was dead, it wasn’t funny any longer, because there was only her to deal with the house.

  ‘You should have cleared out some of this stuff yourself, Dad,’ she said aloud as she looked round the cluttered room.

  She almost tossed the crumpled plastic bag on the pile of rubbish then inspected its contents ‘just in case’. Inside was a brown paper carrier bag, its creases worn, its string handle greyish and limp. How old must this be? She hadn’t seen one like it since she was a child, though paper bags were now back in fashion again.

  ‘Oh, thank goodness!’ Here were the various certificates for births, marriages and deaths, things she’d been hoping to find, because she was desperate to find out about her father’s family. There were also quite a few photos, though the faces and even the names on the backs meant nothing to her. Relieved, she began to gather them together to take home for future investigation. Then something on her parents’ marriage certificate caught her eye and she smoothed it out again.

  Her father’s name, Daniel James Everett, was there, but the woman’s name beneath it wasn’t her mother’s. And the date was wrong too. It said 1942 not 1955.

  She jumped in shock as a voice called from the hall, ‘Mum?’

  ‘I’m up here, love.’ She hastily bundled the papers together and slipped them into the carrier bag again. She didn’t want to share this puzzle with anyone yet.

  Her daughters had said she should simply call a charity and give everything to them, but she couldn’t do that, just – couldn’t. And she had been proved right. In the spare rooms her father had rarely used, under mounds of papers, books, old photos, bric-a-brac, tools, she’d found some pieces of furniture which he’d picked up in junk shops years ago when they were short of money. They were quite valuable antiques now and she was sending them to auction.

  But the latest find was much more precious because it had upset her not to know anything about her family background. She turned to smile as her daughter Lexie came up to join her, carrying her three-year-old grandson.

  ‘Hi, Mum. I got off work early today so I’ve brought you some more boxes and bags. How long have you been here?’

  ‘What? Oh, since about nine this morning.’

  ‘That’s quite long enough. Ben and I are taking you out for tea. I do wish you lived nearer to me then we could do it more often.’

  ‘Lovely.’ Only when she got to her feet did Gina realize how stiff she was. She bent to pick up the precious bag.

  Lexie looked at her accusingly. ‘You’re not taking any more rubbish home, surely?’

  Gina hugged the package to her chest. ‘These are old family papers. They’re important.’

  ‘You’re as bad as Pops was. I give you warning, when you die I shall just hurl everything into a bin and have it carted to the tip.’

  ‘I’m not so old that you need to worry about that!’

  They both stopped short as knife-edged memories sliced into them. Gina’s husband hadn’t been that old, either, but he’d been wiped out at the age of forty-six by a drunken driver.

  ‘Sorry, Mum.’ Lexie gave her a hasty one-armed hug and Ben offered a sticky kiss. ‘I didn’t mean to remind you of Dad. You know me, open mouth, put foot straight in.’

  Ben began struggling to get away from his mother, reaching out towards the piles, his chubby fingers waggling in anticipation.

  ‘Don’t put him down! I’ve sorted those out.’

  Lexie muttered something under her breath and hitched her son into a more secure position.

  ‘These things you consider rubbish are important to me,’ Gina said quietly, remembering the marriage certificate and wishing she was alone to study the rest of the documents.

  For a moment she was tempted to share the news with Lexie, but dismissed the thought quickly. Neither of her daughters really understood her deep and abiding sadness at her lack of family connections.

  She turned to lead the way out, wiping her eyes quickly on her arm and hoping Lexie wouldn’t notice. ‘You’re right, though. I have done enough for today. And it would be great to have tea with you and Ben.’

  She let Lexie take her to a nearby Chinese restaurant which her father had loved and to which they’d often gone as a family during the past few years. As usual, the cook made Ben a small omelette, which the little boy ate with messy enthusiasm while the two women shared szechuan beef and chicken chow mein.

  Half an hour later Gina smiled and sagged back in her chair. ‘I think everything’s catching up with me now. That drive home always seems longer at night, so would you mind if I left now?’

  ‘Course not. I can’t stay out late with Ben anyway or he’ll be unbearable tomorrow.’

  They walked out to their cars each holding a hand of the little boy, who was drooping and quiet. The air was balmy after the hot March day and Gina stopped for a moment to gaze up at the sky. ‘Your father always loved summer evenings like this.’

  ‘I still miss Dad.’

  ‘So do I. But it’s three years now and I’ve moved on.’

  There was silence as they reached the car park, then Lexie picked Ben up and said in a rush, ‘I don’t think you have, Mum. Moved on, I mean. I think you’ve sat still.’

  Gina stared at her in shock. ‘I’ve done all sorts of new things since your father died.’

  ‘Cosy little things – joined a reading group, gone out for meals with your friend, who’s also a widow. That’s not exactly living it up, is it? Some women get new jobs or even start dating again. But you haven’t. You live in the same house as before and you’re still working part-time in that craft shop. You’re only fifty-one and young-looking for your age. I hope I last as well as you have. Why, your hair isn’t even grey yet, apart from a few threads. I think you should get a new job and go out to places where you can meet some unattached men. Dad wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life alone.’

  Gina swallowed hard. ‘I don’t need this just now.’

  Lexie leaned against the side of her mother’s car. ‘There’s never going to be a perfect time to tell you.’

  ‘I suppose you and Mel have been discussing me.’

  ‘Of course we have, but she doesn’t agree with me. Well, she wouldn’t. She always wants things to stay the same. Other people put down roots; Mel puts down a mine shaft. But I’m worri
ed about you and the future. I was going to talk to you about it in the restaurant, only I chickened out. But when you said you’d moved on, I just couldn’t hold back any longer. It’s like that thing you’ve got on the wall at home. I’ve always hated it. It says ‘Go placidly’. Who wants a placid life? I think you should run joyously forward and have some adventures before it’s too late. I love you to pieces, Mum, but I had to tell you.’

  Gina swallowed hard. ‘Well, consider me told.’

  Lexie leaned forward and gave her a final kiss on the cheek. ‘You’re the best mum in the world, but promise me you’ll add a little excitement to your life. Get out and meet new people. Promise me!’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’ Gina unlocked her car and waited till Lexie had unlocked hers and fastened Ben into his car seat. They were two parking spaces away but she felt as if they were miles apart.

  Lexie started up the engine then stuck her head out of the car window and bellowed, ‘I nearly forgot. Can you come over and babysit for me tomorrow night, please?’

  Gina started to say no then realized Lexie had rolled up the car window and switched on her CD player. She’d simply assumed her mother would agree.

  And Gina would. Why not? She had nothing else to do because she hadn’t moved on, had she? That accusation rankled. As for Lexie’s advice, Gina had never been the sort to run forward joyously and have adventures, even though she’d have liked to travel overseas. Her husband had been even quieter, a home-loving man. And the two of them had been perfectly happy together in their own way.

  Move on, indeed! Where to? Everyone she loved was here in Western Australia.

  As she turned on to the Freeway to drive south to Mandurah, she wondered yet again why her father had never told her he’d been married before.

  She drove slowly, not sure she wanted to get home because she now had two things to worry about in the dark reaches of the night: what her younger daughter had just said and unravelling the mystery of her father’s first marriage.

  * * *

  Lexie’s way home led near her sister’s house, so she made a small detour. Since there was a light on downstairs she stopped on impulse, looking up admiringly at the brand new two-storey residence that was Mel’s pride and joy. She rang the front door bell and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited.

  Mel opened the door, staying behind the security grill till she saw who it was. ‘Lex! What on earth are you doing here at this time of night?’

  ‘I wanted to talk to you about Mum. Are you busy?’

  ‘Just sitting watching TV. Simon’s gone out. Come in.’

  ‘I’ll get Ben. He’s asleep in the car.’ She carried her son inside and laid him gently down in the corner, his head on a cushion. ‘Where’s my gorgeous niece?’

  ‘Asleep, thank goodness. Emma’s been a terror this evening, came home from school in a temper because she’d fallen out with her best friend.’

  ‘I’ll be glad when Ben goes to school. It’ll make things so much easier.’

  ‘In some ways. But schools don’t keep them until the working day ends, so you’ll still need babysitters. And kids catch everything that’s going around once they start, so you’ll have trouble when he’s ill.’

  Lexie shrugged. ‘There’s always Mum. She pulled you out of a hole when Emma got flu so badly.’

  ‘Yes. Mum’s been great. But you can’t have it both ways. If she does what you want and gets a more exciting life, she might be too busy to babysit for us.’

  ‘She’ll still do it now and then.’

  ‘What if she decides to travel overseas?’

  ‘Mum’s not the travelling sort.’ Lexie flung herself down on the couch with a sigh.

  ‘Glass of wine?’

  ‘No thanks, not when I’m driving. But I wouldn’t mind an orange juice, if you’ve got one.’ She bounced to her feet and followed her sister into the kitchen. ‘You all right? You look very pale. You’re not coming down with something, are you? Thanks.’ She raised her glass. ‘Here’s to us.’

  ‘Let’s go and sit down. I’m exhausted.’

  ‘You try to fit too much into your life, you know. Um – I’ve just been talking to Mum about moving on.’

  ‘Wow. I didn’t think you’d actually do it. What did she say?’

  ‘She got a bit huffy – you know that look she gets.’

  Mel rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t I ever? I bet she doesn’t change things, though. How’s she going with clearing Pop’s house?’

  Lexie sighed. ‘She’s still taking things home. She had a big bundle of old papers today.’

  They were both silent for a moment or two then Mel cleared her throat. ‘I’ve got a bit of news of my own.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I’m pregnant.’

  Lexie gaped at her. ‘But you said you weren’t having any more children after being so sick the first time. You swore once was enough to go through nine months of chucking up.’

  ‘It is – was. Only, good old Mother Nature has decided otherwise. Take it from me, the only safe method of birth control is complete abstinence. I told Simon after Emma was born that he should have a vasectomy, but he wouldn’t, damn him!’ She snatched a tissue and mopped her eyes. ‘Sorry. Hormones have gone haywire.’

  Lexie went to sit next to her, rubbing her back gently. ‘You poor love.’

  ‘Simon’s pleased, but it’s not him who’ll be getting fat and feeling sick for months on end, is it? All he can say is, he always wanted another kid. Men are so selfish.’

  ‘You’ve quarrelled?’

  ‘Have we ever! He stormed out of the house in a huff tonight and I don’t know where he is.’ She reached for another tissue.

  ‘You’ll sort it all out.’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Mel stared down at the dregs of her orange juice. ‘But I’m already throwing up several times a day and I feel even worse than last time.’

  ‘You were bad with Emma.’

  ‘And you were fit as a flea when you were expecting Ben. I hate you.’

  Lexie grinned at her. ‘No, you don’t.’

  ‘I do at the moment. Why can’t I be like that? I can’t afford to stop work. We need my salary to pay the mortgage on this place. I suggested to Simon that I have a termination. That’s what tonight’s quarrel was mainly about.’

  Lexie gaped at her. ‘But you’re married! There’s no reason for you to have an abortion.’

  ‘Except that I don’t want another horror pregnancy. I’m only just over two months and it’s like looking down a long, dark tunnel. I can’t face it, Lex.’ Her voice wobbled, a tear escaped and she mopped her eyes again.

  ‘I thought you were looking pale.’

  ‘Yeah, and this is the best time of day for me. You should see me in the mornings. Not a pretty sight. Thank heavens for make-up.’

  ‘Well, you can always sell this house and buy somewhere smaller. You’ll make a huge profit. Then you’ll be able to live off Simon’s salary and things won’t seem as overwhelming.’

  Mel sat bolt upright. ‘We sell this place over my dead body! I put down roots here when we moved in and I’m not pulling them up again, whatever anyone else wants.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m hoping Pops’ money will help us through until I can go back to work properly. Wasn’t it kind of him to leave us something? Only, I can’t seem to start planning. My brain’s turned to mush and I get so tired.’ She stared down at her hands for a moment, brushing away another tear with a scowl that defied her sister to comment. ‘So… how’s the new guy?’

  ‘OK. Fun, but not a keeper. Look, I’d better get Ben home to bed and leave you to sleep.’

  But as she drove away, Lexie wondered how bad the row had been between Mel and Simon. And surely her sister wasn’t serious about a termination?

  Lexie looked down at Ben as she carried him into the house. He was all soft and floppy, like a rag doll, and she loved him to pieces. For all her troubles with her ex, she wouldn’t be without her son for anything i
n the world. She was glad his father had gone to work in Sydney because she didn’t want to share Ben with the Rat.

  She laid the little boy carefully in his bed then walked slowly along to her own bedroom. Mel must be feeling really bad to talk about terminations!

  * * *

  Brad Rosenberry picked up the mail when he got home from work on that hot autumn day, shuffling through the pile and stopping at the sight of an airmail letter from the UK. The others were only bills, so he put them down and turned the letter over to see who it was from. But there was no address on the back.

  He didn’t open it, because he’d done the shopping on the way home and had some frozen stuff to put away. Helen had always done that and since her death he’d followed similar patterns. He still missed having her around. They’d been through troubled times in their marriage but had grown a lot closer since the kids left home, and even more so during the years she’d been fighting breast cancer and had needed his support so desperately.

  He realized he was still standing there clutching a packet of frozen raspberries and quickly put the last few things away. There. All neat and tidy, and he’d eaten at a café near the supermarket, so didn’t need to mess the kitchen up again till supper time.

  Pouring himself a glass of red wine he took it and the strange letter out on to the back patio, his favourite place to sit on warm evenings. He studied the envelope again, unable to decipher the postmark. Who would be writing to him from England? He seemed to hear Helen saying, ‘For goodness’ sake, open it and find out, Brad!’ but he enjoyed guessing what letters contained.

  Since this one offered no clues, he tore it open and spread out the thin sheet of paper.

  Dear Mr Rosenberry

  My name is Rosie Quentin and I think you knew my mother, Jane, seventeen years ago when she was visiting Australia. She was Jane Carroll then.

  My mother didn’t know she was pregnant with me when she left Australia. If you’re the right Bradley Gerald Rosenberry, you’re my father. I only found out Dad couldn’t be my biological father when we were doing blood groups and genetics at school.

  I found your address in the Australian white pages online. There wasn’t another BG Rosenberry listed. Then I found out you’d written a couple of training manuals and the bio put you at the correct age, too. You can find nearly anyone on the Internet these days.