‘Dear Stephan,’ she murmured to herself. ‘What a lot I owe you!’
She would never forget the day in August when she came in to work and told him the annulment of her marriage had been approved. He was standing in the hall, and as she told him he came forward and hugged her, the first time he had ever done such a thing.
‘This is the real start of your new life now,’ he smiled, his eyes all sparkly through his glasses. ‘You’ve shed your skin, now you can grow a new one.’
‘What sort of skin shall I have?’ she joked. ‘Will it be sophisticated or arty, or maybe the skin of a serious-minded secretary?’
‘You can be all of those at once,’ he laughed. ‘It can be mink, satin, silk or tweed, whatever you fancy. You’ve got so many talents you can even have ones you slip on and off to suit the moment.’
‘I feel I ought to celebrate the shedding of my old skin,’ she said. ‘How would you recommend I do that?’
He looked at her for a couple of seconds. ‘Well, Miss Taylor, in my capacity as a friend, employer and past “shrink”, I’d recommend getting laid.’
Dulcie giggled. Like the hug, such personal remarks were out of character for Stephan. ‘Oh really! Just like that!’
He smiled. ‘You know Rudie’s been waiting patiently for a very long time. I would imagine you’d make his day, or even his year, if you rang him and suggested a candlelit dinner for two.’
‘Maybe it would have happened anyway,’ Dulcie murmured to herself. ‘I’m sure I didn’t really need Stephan’s permission to go ahead.’ But she smiled and sat back at her desk reliving that delicious, wonderful night.
She had arrived at his house at seven-thirty to find the living-room lit up with dozens of candles, the table laid with flowers and crystal glasses, fire lit, a wonderful garlicky smell wafting out of the kitchen and The Kinks’ ‘Tired of Waiting’ playing.
‘So you’re tired of waiting!’ she said with a grin, for though Rudie had a passion for English pop music, she guessed he had selected that one specially.
He only laughed and held out his arms to her. ‘It’s wonderful news that the annulment’s gone through, I’m so happy for you that all the beastly stuff is over.’
She sighed happily and kissed him passionately.
‘Umm,’ he said when they eventually came up for air. ‘That one had more than hope in it, more like a green light.’
Dulcie giggled. ‘I’m starving, what’s for dinner?’
‘My most famous culinary masterpiece,’ he said. ‘Bœuf Bourguignonne, liberally laced with red wine and brandy. I have also made a pudding which I’m told is guaranteed to keep you in my clutches for ever.’
‘Then I shall be wary of it,’ she laughed. ‘But I’ll just nip upstairs and take a peek at Noël first.’
As she went through her old bedroom, Dulcie paused for a moment. She had stayed the night here many times since coming back to Sydney, and so often she had lain awake, wanting Rudie with all her heart, yet afraid to get up and go to him. Her idea that sex before marriage was wrong appeared to be so very old-fashioned now. Almost every day she read in the papers that young people in England and America were challenging the old rules of morality, they had sex casually with anyone they pleased, smoked pot, went to weekend-long pop concerts and wore outrageous clothes. A pill had been invented to prevent pregnancy, and though at the moment it was only for married women, soon single girls would be able to have it too.
Australia was catching up as well. Young people were flocking off to visit Europe, coming back with tales of hitchhiking across the entire continent, of the wild boutiques, discotheques and bed-sitter lands of London. It seemed strange to Dulcie that the parents of these youngsters had left Europe for Australia looking for a superior way of life, and now their children believed Europe was Utopia.
She went in to see Noël. He slept in a little bed of his own now, the once bare room full of toys of every description, the walls bright with jolly posters. She thought how different it was for children now, compared to how it had been for her generation. No war, no rationing, a huge variety of food, almost every family had a car. Things like television and washing-machines were no longer luxuries but essentials.
He was a real little boy now, he spoke as well as an adult, could count up to twenty, do simple jigsaws, and knew his books so well he pretended he could read them. She bent over him, stroking his dark hair out of his eyes, admired his peachy skin and his long eyelashes. When she thought about May now, it was never with sorrow or bitterness, only gratitude that she’d passed Noël over to her. He liked a centre-stage position just like his mother, and with his looks and happy disposition, he’d probably keep it.
‘Sleep tight,’ she whispered and kissed his cheek. ‘I love you.’
The dinner was superb, and the pudding Rudie claimed would keep her in his clutches for ever was a pavlova filled with raspberries, passion-fruit and cream. They left the dishes on the table and lay on the rug in front of the fire, drinking wine and kissing with sweet soul music playing in the background.
Their clothes just seemed to come off by magic – one moment they were rolling together fully dressed, the next naked – and even though Dulcie had seen Rudie stripped to shorts dozens of times on the beach, it was a thrill to caress those broad shoulders, the firm muscles in his arms, and feel the smoothness of his skin at last.
It was the kind of love-making she’d imagined in her dreams for so many years, unrushed, sensual and so loving that she felt she just might die from ecstasy. He stroked, sucked and kissed her breasts so tenderly it brought tears to her eyes. His fingers explored her vagina with such delicacy that she cried out for more. He unleashed feelings she never knew existed, made her feel wanton and utterly desirable.
It seemed shocking that a man would want to kiss and lick her in such intimate places, but it was so wonderful she lost all her inhibitions and found herself reciprocating too, wanting him to feel the way she did. It did hurt a little when he finally entered her, and the moment was marred slightly by him stopping to put on a sheath. But the knowledge she was at last losing that virginity which had caused so much hurt and disappointment in the past more than made up for the discomfort.
‘I love you, Dulcie,’ he said, holding himself away from her marginally and looking right into her eyes. She could see his love for herself, those dark eyes soft with tenderness and adoration. ‘Nothing will ever come between us now.’
He plunged into her, his hands holding on to her buttocks, his breath hot on her face. Dulcie gloried in it, rising to him to take him further and further into her. She felt complete now, a real woman.
Later, as they lay together in front of the fire, the candles gradually flickering out one by one, he spoke of how long he had loved her.
‘I think it began when I read your letters to May,’ he said. ‘Angry as I was that she had lied to me about so much, I found a picture of you forming in my mind. The oldest letter was the one you sent after you’d been to visit May at St Vincent’s and heard about your father’s death. You were being cautious in what you said, and I guessed it was because your previous letters hadn’t been passed to May and you knew that one would be read before it was given to her. Yet you managed to convey such concern for her. In the later letters sent to the address at Peppermint Grove I learned so much more about you, I knew you were generous, loving and with a great sense of humour too. There was a description in one of a football game you’d gone to with Bruce and John. I was almost there, hearing all the spectators honking their car horns when someone got a goal. You were obviously more interested in watching the crowd than the football!’
Dulcie laughed. ‘I was always bored stiff by the men discussing football. That was the first and last game I ever went to. So what did you think of me when you met me off the train?’ she asked.
‘My first impression was that you were like Bambi, all big-eyed, sweet and fragile. I didn’t expect that. I’d somehow built you up in my mind to be
taller, stronger-looking, even a bit stern. I was nervous then, I thought I’d made a mistake enlisting your help, that you’d crumple when I told you what May was doing. But you proved me wrong.’
‘What did you really think when you got the message May had skipped off?’ she asked. This was something she’d never put to him, and it seemed important now.
He looked faintly sheepish. ‘The very first thought was that I’d opened a can of worms I was never going to be able to close. I was as scared as you must have been. But what made it better was you. I hadn’t expected you to be so practical and unhysterical. I knew then fate had stepped in for both of us.’
‘Don’t tell me you fell in love with me then, because I don’t believe it,’ she laughed.
‘No, I didn’t think that, but I knew within a day or two of you coming here with Noël that you were completely special. Everything from the past just seemed to fade. The more you told me about you and May, the more I saw you with Noël, the stronger the feeling became, but it was the day the Welfare women came and you had to write that letter to Ross that I suddenly realized I’d fallen in love with you.’
‘But that was before May died,’ she said.
‘Exactly. Long before.’ He bent to kiss her, as if he knew she needed to know she had never been second-best. ‘You can’t imagine how hard it was for me that night when we got back from her funeral. I was terrified at the thought of losing you. I wanted to seduce you, I even thought of forcing you into it with me because I thought if I did you might not go.’
‘I probably wouldn’t have,’ she admitted. ‘But then I’d have been so stricken with guilt about Ross I don’t suppose I’d have been very good for you.’
‘I didn’t take your sheets off the bed for weeks,’ he said with a smile. ‘I used to get into that bed and just sniff them, like a sad old dog. Stephan was the only person I could really talk to about it. He never said much, just listened to my ramblings and reminded me I still had an ace card in Noël, and that I should take him to Esperance for a holiday as I’d promised.’
Dulcie smiled at this. She had seen so often how Stephan seemed to be able to look right into people’s souls and identify with them.
‘I’m very glad you did keep that promise,’ she said. ‘Sometimes it was only the thought of that visit that kept me going. I’ve often wondered if it was you coming that finally pushed Ross into telling me to go, or whether it would have happened anyway.’
The ringing of the telephone broke into Dulcie’s reverie, bringing her abruptly back to the present, and she picked it up to answer it, smiling when she found it was Rudie.
‘I was just thinking about you,’ she said.
‘I think about you all the time,’ he said, using a mock reproachful tone. ‘In fact I think about you so much I went into Sydney this morning to chase up your pictures.’
‘Did they tell you anything?’ she asked eagerly. Brown and Allbright, a children’s book publisher, had had her portfolio for over three weeks now, and there hadn’t been a word from them.
‘Well, it would have been unethical for them to tell me anything before you, but they said they were putting a letter in the post to you today, and I didn’t get the impression it was going to be a rejection. They were much too smiley and nice for that. Brown actually asked me into his office for coffee and probed for a bit more information about you.’
Dulcie’s heart began to race with excitement. She knew Rudie wouldn’t have even told her he’d been there today unless he was sure she was going to receive an offer from these people. ‘I won’t be able to sleep tonight thinking about it,’ she said.
‘Well, come round to me then,’ he said. ‘Sleeping isn’t compulsory.’
Dulcie giggled. ‘Okay, I’ll come straight after work so I can put Noël to bed.’
‘What were you thinking about me when I phoned?’ he asked. ‘Was it that I’d better marry him quickly before he changes his mind?’
‘No it wasn’t, though I suppose it is related – I was thinking about that night!’
‘What night was that?’ he asked.
‘You’d better remember before I get round there,’ she said in a pretend severe voice. ‘I shall test you on it. Now I’ve got to go. I can hear Stephan saying goodbye to his patient. See you about six.’
Rudie put the phone down and looked at Noël playing with a toy train on the floor. He could see he was tired, they’d caught the ferry into Sydney this morning and he’d walked a long way.
‘Dulcie’s coming to see us later,’ Rudie said.
A wide smile spread across the child’s face. He was three now, tall for his age and sturdily built, growing more like his father every day, except that his dark eyes were very prominent without the slightly hooded appearance Rudie’s had. ‘For tea?’ he asked. ‘Can we go for a walk after too?’
‘We’ll see when she gets here,’ Rudie said. ‘But I think it’s time for a little nap, otherwise you’ll be too tired to play with her when she comes.’
Once Rudie had put Noël on his bed for a sleep, he went into his studio to carry on with some work, but instead of getting on with it, he stood at the window looking at the view of the bay.
He did of course remember ‘that night’ as Dulcie always called it. How could he ever forget it? It was the most memorable of his entire life. But though he remembered the love-making so well, the bliss of possessing her after such a long, long wait, it was what happened afterwards that had stayed in his mind most clearly.
They had been lying on the floor, cuddling and talking about how it was for him after Dulcie left Sydney to go back to the farm, and how Stephan had told him to keep his promise and go there. Then Dulcie asked why he thought Ross chose that time to let her go.
Rudie could remember so distinctly the stab of guilt he felt. He managed to say he thought his presence there might have greased the wheels a bit.
‘It was such a brave and noble thing he did,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘I think it was the first time in his life that he’d put his own needs aside for someone else. All he’d ever learnt as a child was personal survival, no sense of morality really. He told me once that he would do anything, lie, cheat, steal and maybe even kill if necessary to keep going. I often wondered if he hadn’t ended up in Bruce’s barn, what would have become of him.’
She hadn’t spoken of Ross for a very long time until that night. She would occasionally mention something from a letter he’d written, talk in general about the farm, but not about him. Maybe she was only prompted to talk about him then because she’d got the news of the annulment that day, but Rudie felt if she was in the right mood it was time he shook out a few skeletons.
‘Are you ever going to tell me what happened at Bindoon?’ he asked. ‘Now and then I feel the weight of it hanging around in the air. Can’t you tell me now?’
She had been so relaxed until then, naked and unashamed, but she suddenly sat up, grabbed his shirt and put it on. Somehow that seemed very symbolic to him, the order of the past coming back. Rudie moved to sit beside her, drawing her back against his chest, his arms around her. ‘You’re quite safe here with me,’ he said gently against her ear. ‘Just tell me.’
She did. Starting at the point when she and Ross left the farm for Perth, she described in detail all the events which led up to their eventual arrival at Bindoon. Her surprise at the beauty of the place, but the mounting, sickening horror as Ross showed her how it had been built, and his part in it. Finally she told him how it all came to a climax when they saw the tomb of Brother Keaney, that Ross became rigid and immovable with fear, and that she had to trick him into getting into the car. She stopped there for several minutes, crying silently, and it was all Rudie could do not to turn her around and say she didn’t have to tell him the rest.
Yet he knew that whatever it was that came next, and he knew without a doubt it was the worst part, she did have to tell him, for if she kept it inside her it as Ross had, it would never be exorcized.
 
; She gave a kind of shuddering sob and told him how she drove Ross away from there, stopping further down the road. Haltingly she described the lonely road, the heat, and how she held that broken man in her arms and listened to him baring his very soul.
She spared Rudie nothing. It was as if she had been a witness to the ugly scene in the dairy, and he could see, feel and smell that young boy’s fear and pain. Terrible and shocking as the story was, for Rudie it was like a beam of light coming into a dark place and illuminating it. All those ideas he had about Ross, personal observations, intuition, hear-say from Dulcie, Bruce, and Mary up at Kalgoorlie, and indeed the prejudices he’d formed while Dulcie was here with him battling for Noël, all came together. He felt he fully understood now what lay at the very core of the man, and his heart went out to him.
‘Do you understand why I couldn’t speak of it to anyone?’ she asked, twisting her neck round to look at Rudie, tears dripping down her face. ‘I felt responsible for unleashing it all and causing the breakdown. Then I found I didn’t even want him to try and make love to me any more, and that gave me an even bigger load of guilt, because it made the whole thing so cruel and unnecessary.’
It crossed Rudie’s mind that maybe he could get rid of that bit of guilt for her by telling her that Ross had in fact had at least a partial cure in as much as he could have sex with other women. But he squashed that thought. It would only stir up things best left undisturbed.
‘Tell me, do you still feel guilty about him?’ he asked.
‘No, it’s all gone now,’ she sighed. ‘The way he let me go, not challenging the annulment, his friendly letters and time to reflect on it all, wiped it out. I just feel tenderness and pity for him, that’s all.’
As he sat there with her in his arms, Rudie thought how incredibly forgiving she was. He still occasionally smarted at the treatment he’d had at school, even though it was nothing compared with what she had had to endure. Only a week or two earlier the subject of the Sisters at St Vincent’s came up, and Dulcie said she felt sorry for them now. He had teased her, in fact tried to make her angry about them, but she only said she thought most of them were troubled women themselves, cut off from their families, stuck out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing ahead of them but a sad old age.