By tacit agreement, the subject of their parents was carefully avoided by both Violet and Daisy over the next few days. They were having a restorative coffee in Myers Department Store after a shopping spree when Violet suggested they take an early morning train to Melbourne and ‘do’ the shops in the state capital. Daisy readily agreed; it was easier to keep off controversial subjects with her sister when they were out and about than sitting around the house.
‘You mean we could visit the Melbourne Myers? Is it bigger and better?’ she asked with mild irony.
‘Bigger. Not necessarily better,’ Violet bridled. ‘Don’t forget the very first Myers store was opened here in Bendigo by Sidney Myers in 1911 and now they are Australia wide.’
Daisy had forgotten, but noting that her flippant comment had annoyed her sister, she said soothingly, ‘Quite an achievement, wasn’t it?’
She had come to Australia with some vague, half-formed idea of returning to her birthplace and settling down, but Violet seemed determined to treat her as a visitor from overseas and a temporary one at that. Hoping to keep things on a pleasant footing, Daisy smiled brightly at her sister. ‘That would be fun, Vi – a day in Melbourne, I mean. I always enjoy shopping, don’t you?’
‘When I have plenty of money in my pocket.’
Daisy sighed. She knew her sister thought that she had married a rich man and therefore had money to burn. Truth to tell, she only had a reasonable, but not large fixed income left her by Richard as Giles had inherited the bulk of his father’s estate. She had tried explaining this without success.
As they rode down on the train to Melbourne early the next morning, Daisy was surprised when Violet returned to the subject of their father; in spite of what she had learned Daisy still thought of Bill Weston as her father.
‘I didn’t quite tell you the truth yesterday,’ she began.
‘Oh?’ Daisy queried, wondering what Violet was referring to.
‘About Dad. I said he might be dead, for all I knew. That’s not strictly true. He is dead – now. But he only died quite recently and I knew quite well he was dead. In fact, I went to his funeral.’
‘Oh,’ Daisy repeated the monosyllable, but in a different tone this time. There didn’t seem much else to say at this point, so she waited in silence for her sister to enlarge on this rather surprising piece of information.
‘Yes, I have kept in touch with him over the years, with them both – Dad and Rosie. I loved her, perhaps more than I did Mother. She certainly did more for me when I was little.’
Daisy gasped, a small intake of breath that did not escape Violet who retorted in what Daisy was beginning to think of as her usual prickly manner.
‘There is no need to look shocked; it’s the truth. Anyway, you were always the favourite.’
Daisy opened her mouth to hotly deny this, but her protestations were cut short.
‘Of course you were – and you know it. Anyway, to get to the point, Rosie never forgot my birthday, just a card, but it always came. When I was in my teens – oh, about fifteen, I suppose – I decided to reply.’
‘Did she put an address in then?’
‘No, of course not, but the envelope was postmarked, so I looked it up on the map and discovered it was a little town in New South Wales. I went to the post office and got the telephone directory for that area and looked up W. Weston. There were a couple, but on a hunch, I tried the number that was under W. and R. Weston. I was lucky first time and that’s how I started a regular correspondence with them.’
‘You mean they really were married?’
‘Of course they were.’
‘But, but that means there must have been a divorce and—’ Daisy bit off the words. Mum was free. Why couldn’t she and my father have married?
‘Of course there was. Dad may not have been a saint, but he wasn’t a bigamist,’ Violet snapped, her tone implying her sister was either hypercritical or just plain stupid.
‘I suppose I don’t really remember Rosie,’ Daisy admitted, ‘but I certainly remember the Sanderses and a happy childhood.’ Why, she wondered, had she never questioned the reason for their kindness.
‘Yes,’ for once, they were in agreement, ‘which is why I stayed on and looked after the old lady.’
‘It was very good of you,’ Daisy murmured, crushing the unworthy thought that her virtue had paid off as she had inherited the house.
‘And it was not for any material reward I might get; I really loved her,’ Violet protested, making Daisy wonder if she had expressed her thoughts aloud.
‘We both did.’
Daisy thought this was the end of the conversation till Violet broke the silence between them. ‘They had children, you know.’
For a moment, lost in her own thoughts, Daisy failed to realize who she was talking about. ‘Who did?’ she asked.
Violet made an exasperated sound halfway between a sigh and a click of the tongue. ‘Dad and Rosie, of course.’ There was a tone of exaggerated patience in her voice. ‘We have two brothers and a sister. Well, half-brothers and half-sister.’
‘You – we have?’ For a moment, Daisy had almost said: you have, but not me.
‘Rosie lives in Melbourne now. She would love to see you again, Daisy.’
‘In Melbourne,’ Daisy repeated rather stupidly. After all, she had a perfect right to live where she liked and Melbourne was home to many thousands as the capital of the state of Victoria. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to see Rosie. As Violet had been at pains to point out, she couldn’t really remember her, but she did know she had deserted her mother. She didn’t intend to voice these thoughts and exacerbate the tension between Violet and herself as it was obvious her sister wanted her to meet Rosie, in fact had probably already promised to organize a meeting. ‘Yes, I would like to see her again.’ Daisy tried to inject some enthusiasm into her voice and hoped Violet would not detect any insincerity.
‘She has invited us for afternoon tea.’
‘We’re going to her house?’ Daisy felt she had been manipulated and sizzled with repressed anger. It appeared this day in the city was not a casual shopping trip at all but had been carefully orchestrated by Violet and Rosie between them. Through tight lips, she gritted, ‘How nice.’
‘We can spend the morning shopping,’ Violet decreed cheerfully, taking her sister’s enthusiasm for granted, ‘have lunch then go to see Rosie. She doesn’t expect us until after two o’clock, so that gives us a nice long morning and we can spend plenty of time with her before catching the late afternoon train back to Bendigo.’
‘Yes,’ Daisy agreed weakly, feeling, not for the first time in her life, that she had been steamrollered into a course of action of someone else’s choosing.
The morning passed pleasantly enough, browsing through the large department stores with a break midmorning for coffee. Now her programme had been accepted and was underway, Violet was a pleasant companion and Daisy gave herself up to enjoying herself. By the time they needed to think about finding their way out to Rosie’s place at Richmond, they were both well loaded with parcels. Violet wanted to get a tram, but Daisy insisted on a taxi. ‘I’ll pay,’ she promised. Violet grunted rather ungraciously but accepted this evidence of who was the well-to-do sister. They rode there in silence, both preoccupied with their own thoughts.
Daisy looked forward to this meeting with very mixed feelings. Truthfully, she could not remember anything much about Rosie, and the knowledge that she had left her mother and subsequently married the man she had believed was her father put her on the other side of some imaginary line in Daisy’s mind, into a place where she was not prepared to like her. She paid off the taxi and followed Violet to the door of the neat, terraced house, wishing herself anywhere but where she was.