| |
Bill still hadn’t left for Isa Downs, although the end of the month loomed. How could he leave when he hadn’t patched things up with Marion? Besides, Jack needed his help. But he would leave soon. He knew he had to.
Bill was already dressed and cleaning his boots when Jack strode into the room at dawn. “Lot of thunder and lightning last night, Jack.”
“No rain here though. Wonder if someone else got some. River might come up,” said Jack, before he pulled on his boots and left the house. Looking out the window, Bill saw the day was clear, cold and calm. He followed his friend.
From the doorway he could see the river had burst its banks and flowed across the bottom paddock. Stock were grouped on a ridge, high and dry but with limited grazing.
Town was downstream. If the river was over here, then it may well be flooding the town.
Marion! Was she okay? Fear for her tightened his chest. Jack must be feeling the same anxiety about Fleur.
Jack strode back to Bill. “We’d better load the boat onto the truck and get into town. We might need to do some rescuing.”
They manhandled the timber rowboat, normally used on the lagoon, into the bed of the truck and set off.
Muscles tensed, teeth clenched, Bill sat rigid in the seat during the long ride into town. As they bumped along the rough track, Bill’s hands grasped the doorframe in a death grip. Foreboding gnawed his stomach like a ravenous rat. Marion was in danger. They needed to reach her fast.
At the usually dry creek bed they were stopped by fast-flowing water. Jack drove miles upstream to a bridge, where a few inches of water lapped at the boards. It didn’t deter them—Jack drove fast across the timber structure.
Finally they drove onto the low ridge that looked down upon the town at a distance from the east. Before them the river swirled over its flood plain, a dirty, brown lake in which the town’s buildings formed islands. The rank smell of gidgee trees was strong.
United in their need to find Marion and Fleur, Bill and Jack launched the boat and rowed for the hospital, the nearest building. They pulled hard across the swirling, murky water, avoiding dangerous flotsam. Carcasses of drowned animals and debris clung to by snakes and lizards whirled past. Drawing closer to the hospital building, Bill searched for any sign of the women. At the front gate, with muscles straining against the power of the water, they manoeuvred the boat through the obstacle and up to the steps of the front verandah.
As Bill eased himself out of the boat and onto the top step, where the water licked, tension gripped his chest. Jack held the boat steady. Relief restarted Bill’s stalled heart with a mallet when Marion, anxiety etched on her face, opened the front door. “Bill, Jack! I’m so glad you’ve arrived. The water’s rising fast. Can you help me get the patients out?”
“Where’s Fleur?” Jack asked.
“I can’t find her. I had a quick look in her room but she’s not there. I don’t know where she can be.”
Jack helped Bill and Marion to place a stretchered patient into the boat. Bill stepped back in and together they pulled away, towards Jack’s truck. After a few minutes of heavy work, the men drew their craft up on the bank and transferred the stretcher to the bed of the vehicle. Leaving the man in the shade of the tree under which the truck was parked, they repeated their journey to the hospital, then rowed Marion and her walking patients to safety. The water had risen higher in the short time between journeys. Other boats were also plying the high ground on the railway side of the broad river. Of everyone they passed, they enquired about Fleur. No-one had seen her.
“I’ll take the boat back and search for her,” Jack said, his voice gruff with anxiety. “You look after Matron and the patients, Bill. I’ll be as fast as possible.”
“Find her quickly, Jack. You don’t have much time.” Bill knew Jack wouldn’t give up. He would find her no matter how long it took. Bill helped Marion settle the patients in the tray of the truck and gave them all water. The one with a broken leg whinged a lot. Marion was a gem, coaxing and placating him about the move. Bill only half listened to the conversation, worrying instead about whether Jack had found Fleur. He knew he would be frantic if it was Marion who couldn’t be found.
Within half an hour, Jack had brought Fleur back, his face wiped of its creases of anxiety. Marion, with a cry of relief, hauled Fleur into her arms. Bill gave Fleur a swift pat on the shoulder. Together the men hauled the boat from the murky water, before Jack left to organise the townsfolk to meet the train due that morning. It would take them back up the line to Lawsonvale, where there was a hall they could camp in until the floodwaters dropped enough for them to return home.
Jack strode back to them. “Right, that’s everyone sorted, except you and your patients, Matron. Will you go to Lawsonvale with the others?” He paused, apparently in thought. “Or can I put you and the patients up at Paradise Lagoon until it’s time to go back? I’ll take you wherever you wish to go.”
Gratitude lit Marion’s face. “Thanks, Jack. It would be better not to transport the patients too far. They need to be back in bed as soon as possible. Are you sure you have room at your homestead?”
“I’ve got an empty stockman’s hut near the cookhouse. There’s space for you there. It’s clean. Would that suit?”
“Sounds good, Jack. Let’s get there as quickly as possible.”
Bill helped Marion into the bed of the truck with the patients and followed her. Fleur and Jack rode in the front. Now was not the time to talk, no matter how much he wanted to plead with Marion to reconsider their relationship. Instead he watched her care for her patients.
☼☼☼
Marion was glad to finally see Paradise Lagoon. Sunlight glinted on its lagoon, reflecting the wide, clear sky. Ironic that the day could be so fine and beautiful, yet flooded all around them. White-trunked trees clustered at one end of the lagoon and water lilies congregated around its perimeter, making a home for native ducks and moorhens. Its beauty calmed her. The homestead was just up the track and they could get the patients off the bouncing truck and back into bed.
It had been a long and worrying morning since Marion found them flooded in at dawn with no way to get the patients out. Her one mobile patient had complained persistently, upsetting the others, who were much more ill. Only her professional ethics kept her from giving him a double dose of laudanum. Seeing Bill on her doorstep had been like finding Santa Claus coming down the chimney on Christmas morning.
At the homestead, Marion supervised the transfer of the patients to the unoccupied hut near the kitchen building. The patients, all men, were placed in the larger room, while Marion and Fleur shared the smaller room. For the remainder of the day the women settled their charges and re-established their nursing routine. Jack’s cook assisted with the special meals for the patients.
That evening, Marion stayed on duty for the night while Fleur went to bed exhausted. Late in the evening, sitting in the creaking rocking chair, Marion had time to think about the day’s events. Bill and Jack had saved their lives. They were great friends to have on side. If only Bill... It wasn’t helpful to be thinking of “if only”. She put the past back into a deep corner of her mind.
Later, Marion woke with a start. She realised what had woken her when another quiet rap sounded on the door. Drawing the bolt, she opened the door to find Bill standing in the moonlight. “What are you doing here?” she whispered.
“Came to check you’re okay. May I come in and talk?”
Joy at seeing him fought with trepidation about the wisdom of letting him in. She opened the door wider and let him enter. Was she being a fool? She gestured for him to take the ladder-back chair opposite. Resuming her seat, she hugged her waist.
“How have you been? Apart from right now being flooded out.” Bill’s eyes looked at her with longing. “I’ve missed you.” Tiredness etched his face.
“Fine. Same as always—busy and happy—that’s me.” She smiled, but couldn’t mask the forced cheeriness from her voice. “How about you?”
“I haven’t had a drink since race day, almost a month ago. I ragged Jack about becoming a teetotaller, but it’s me who has!” He smiled ruefully at her. “Does it help?”
“It’s good to hear. For your own sake, but it won’t change my mind. We’re not suited.” She had to keep up her resolve, no matter how much she cared for him. It wasn’t enough to be attracted to him. Other factors were needed for a long-term relationship—reliability and continual sobriety to start with.
“How can you say that? We had wonderful times together—the pictures, fishing, swimming, even the picnic races until I got drunk.”
“Yes, we had fun together, but that’s not enough. My life isn’t all going out and having fun.” How I wish it were, because you’re the person I’d want to do those things with.
“I know that. But I gardened and did repairs for you. Doesn’t that count for something?” His normally laughing face looked earnest with entreaty.
“They certainly count as good deeds, but that’s the sort of support I would like all the time, not just occasionally. I don’t think you can maintain that. You have a wanderlust that will take you away from Idavale.” And me, she added silently.
“I’m going back to Isa Downs. It was always my intention.”
“Yes, but you haven’t done so yet, and Isa Downs is a long way from Idavale. You can’t do my maintenance from there. Think about it, Bill, if you’re going to settle down, you belong with your family. You owe it to them to be there.”
“Maybe.” He sounded sullen from disappointment.
“Look, I appreciate your help. I appreciate you and Jack caring enough to rescue us and the patients. I know you went out of your way to do it.”
“We’ll help you clean up too. I’m pretty sure Jack will be front and centre for that. He’s that sort of bloke. We’re both that sort.”
“Thank you.” She was truly grateful. It would be a big task, even with the men’s help.
“Can’t have my garden handiwork completely destroyed, can I?” Back to his lighthearted teasing.
“I suspect it already is. River water makes a mighty mess of everything.” She smiled ruefully. It would be mucky work cleaning everything. Bill seemed to be waiting for her to say more.
How could she convince him they weren’t meant for each other? “I really appreciate what you’ve done for me.” Marion’s words trailed away to silence.
Bill nodded and stood up in acceptance. “Okay, I get the message. Goodnight.” He let himself out the timber door. It clicked closed with finality.
Tears slid down her cheeks to fall onto her lap. The emptiness within her threatened to implode. She had done the right thing. Hadn’t she?
Dawn woke Marion from her exhausted sleep. As she levered her aching body from the rocking chair’s depth, its wicker creaked and groaned.
Fleur was gone from her bed. Marion presumed Jack was the reason. A stab of envy made her feel guilty.
☼☼☼
“River’s down,” Jack announced the next morning at breakfast. “Townsfolk are cleaning up. We’ll load the truck up with equipment.”
Jack drove Marion and Bill into town, taking mops, buckets and shovels, ready to tackle the clean-up of the hospital now the floodwaters were falling, leaving Fleur to care for the patients. The silt-laden water had disappeared, bequeathing a film of stinking mud over the town.
“Water must have been at its peak when Jack rescued Fleur,” Bill said to Marion. “There’s only a thin layer of dirt on the floorboards where it lapped, but my garden work is destroyed.”
Using fresh water from the water barrel on the back of Jack’s truck, they sluiced down the hospital floors.
Next, Marion got out carbolic acid to restore all the floors to her hygiene standards. Sleeves rolled above her elbows, she knelt on the floor scrubbing the timber. Bill did the same on the exterior, then switched to clearing up the garden and pathways. Then the men checked for sheltering snakes and gave the all-clear.
The next day, they returned the patients to the hospital. That achieved, the men excused themselves and went to help other townsfolk with their cleaning.
Bill stayed in town because he was leaving in Dave’s mail truck the following day. Jack farewelled him at the hotel with a firm handshake and a clap on his shoulder, before heading back to the property.
Bill couldn’t settle to solitude. He paced the short distance between the bed and the door of his hotel room. Finally, he gave up and set off back to the hospital to see Marion again.
“Come on, Marion, come have dinner with me one last time.” Bill could hear himself cajoling her. He hoped it would work. “What have you got to lose? Dinner out is always pleasant. The café is open again, so we can go there. You’ll regret it if you don’t. Think of the guilt you’ll take to the grave when you realise it was one charitable act you could have done that would have made a difference to the tragic life of Bill Carter.” Boy, he was laying it on with a trowel. Well, whatever it took to get her to agree, he’d do. He had to try.
Marion paused her cleaning of the hospital floor and stood motionless with the mop in her hands.
He hoped she was thinking, “What difference would it make? He’s leaving for good.”
“Alright Bill. I’ll come out with you. Fleur is on duty tonight, so I’m free.”
His eyes closed briefly in relief. “Great. You’ll probably never see me again after tonight. Think of that. You’ve made right decision. I’ll collect you at six o’clock.”
The café was open again but with a set menu of camp-oven roast, three vegetables and gravy. Bill hoped Marion wouldn’t be disappointed. He wanted her in a good mood.
All went to plan. Even scones instead of a dessert couldn’t dampen the bittersweet moments of their last hours together.
Bill tucked Marion’s hand into the crook of his arm to walk her home, as on their first evening together. His footsteps slowed while hope and dread vied within him. They stepped through the light and shade of the footpath and Bill knew he had to speak up soon or they would be saying goodbye at the hospital gate.
He stopped and turned Marion to him. His hands cupped her face and he gently brushed her lips with his. Marion circled her arms around him. Their lips parted in unison to deepen the kiss and he drew her into his embrace. She inflamed him and he wanted her to have no doubt he found her desirable. She hugged him tighter, clinging to his waist. She tasted of the strawberry jam they had just eaten, and smelt of fresh lavender. The sound of her soft mews of enjoyment gave him hope she wasn’t immune to him—that he could convince her that he was worth loving. Worth spending the rest of her life with.
Somewhere along the street, a casement window scraped open, making them jump apart like guilty children.
Bill took Marion’s hand. As they walked towards the hospital again she had a dreamy look on her face.
They reached the hospital gate. He had to ask. He had to know whether he had any chance with her to make a future together. He took a deep breath. “You know I have to go to Isa Downs. Will you come with me? Make a life with me there? Marion, will you marry me?”
Marion looked startled, then pained.
He ploughed on with his speech. “If not now, sometime in the future? I have to know where I stand with you before I leave.”
“Oh, Bill. How can I? How can I leave here? The townspeople took me in and cared about me when I was a lost soul. You’re going to Isa Downs for good.”
“I may not stay.”
“But you might choose to...I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you. I would have to give up everything here that I’ve worked hard to achieve in the last ten years.” Her eyes filled with tears but she seemed implacable about her decision. “It would be too big a change. I won’t leave this place and these people.”
Desperate now, Bill said, “I care about you too. What if I stayed here?”
“But what would you do here? I can’t imagine you following along behind me doing little repairs to the hospital from time to time, and the gardening. That’s not you. You’re an energetic, proud, stand-alone person. You need to create a future for yourself—especially now you’re finished with constantly moving from job to job, place to place. You deserve better than that.”
“You know I’m the silent partner in Isa Downs, don’t you? I’m not completely without means.”
“But if you stayed here you would have to give up your interest in Isa Downs, wouldn’t you? Go back there and resume your role as an active partner. I’m sure your brother would welcome you with open arms. You need to go there anyway and make your peace with your siblings.”
Bill’s heart ached with the pain of disappointment. The woman he loved read him so well—she knew exactly what he was like and wouldn’t buy into the sorry mess he had made of his life so far by marrying him. Gutted, he leant forward and kissed Marion’s check, then looked deeply into her eyes. “Goodbye. You know I love you, don’t you?”
Tears slipped down her cheeks from her overflowing eyes. “Yes, I do, Bill and I love you. I wish I didn’t. I can’t marry you.”
“I know.” He cupped her face and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. “Goodbye.” His voice was a husky whisper. He turned and walked away, leaving her at the gate to her beloved hospital. His chest tightened with a longing ache. Would he ever see her again?
☼☼☼
Marion stood alone on the street, watching his retreating back until he disappeared into the mottled darkness of the night. Sorrow clamped her heart in a vice. How would she go on without him? He had made each day together sparkle, with his teasing and charm.
But she had to. There was no choice except giving up all she had gained in Idavale—the regard of the people and the satisfaction of helping them. She couldn’t leave them without help. Not in good conscience, after all they had done for her.
Matron entered the hospital, with tears still in her eyes. Unfortunately, Fleur noticed, and assumed she was upset about Bill leaving.
“He’ll be back, Marion,” Fleur said.
“Yes, but not for some time.” Marion’s chest ached from the tidal wave of unshed tears poised to gush forth.
“He seemed very serious about you.” Fleur persisted with her guileless comments.
Tears shuddered from the depths of Marion’s despair. She couldn’t hold them back. “He’s asked me to marry him!”
“That’s wonderful!” Fleur was so sweet and unaware of the undercurrent between Bill and her. Matron cried harder.
“Isn’t it?” Fleur asked. She seemed confused now.
“Yes, but how can we be together when he’s working at his brother’s property and I’m here? I can’t give up my hospital, not after all it’s taken to establish it!”
“I’m sure there is some compromise you can come up with.” Fleur rubbed her back.
“I don’t know,” Marion wailed.
Fleur rubbed faster. Marion knew she must be bewildered by this crazy behaviour from her employer. Eventually she calmed down with a cup of tea, and Fleur sent her to bed for a good night’s rest. Marion collapsed onto her bed, fresh sobbing wetting her pillow. Had she ensured her future contentment or just lost her last chance at happiness?