Television coverage of the election had already begun when Fraser, Penny and Matt settled down on the oversized leather suite in the lounge room. Penny had been watching for a moment to take Matt aside, but an excited Fraser was monopolising him. Father and son were talking for the first time in years, and she didn’t want to get in the way of that.
Penny emptied the potato crisps she’d brought into a bowl, and put them on the coffee table. They looked out of place beside the plates of gourmet hors d’oeuvres brought in by the butler. ‘Anything vegetarian?’
McGregor materialised at her shoulder. ‘Of course, Miss Penny.’ He pointed to this or that appetiser, rattling off ingredients. ‘Polenta wedges with bocconcini and basil pesto, leek and charred bell pepper tartlets, crunchy red lentil fritters with fresh mint …’
Despite the delicious food, Penny had little appetite. Nerves had the better of her. ‘Did you really cook all this?’ McGregor seemed mortified by the question.
‘Stop showing off,’ said Fraser, ‘and fetch us something to drink.’
McGregor returned with a refrigerated trolley. ‘Champagne, Miss Penny? A great vintage. Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin Brut 1998.’ The French words sounded strange in his thick Scottish brogue.
Penny shook her head, keeping a careful eye on Matt. She loved champagne. Would he wonder why she refused the glass of bubbly? But he didn’t notice. He was listening to Fraser talk about Matt’s American grandmother, a woman she knew he’d always wondered about.
‘I went to live with my mother in Los Angeles when I was sixteen,’ said Fraser. ‘You know how teenagers are. I’d had a row with my father, Thomas Abbott, and she sent me a plane ticket. Kitty Monroe was a very glamourous lady, a movie star, married to a famous Hollywood director. It was an exciting life for a young man.’
‘Didn’t your dad try to bring you back?’ asked Matt.
‘He did, but I didn’t want to go home, and Mother fought him in the US courts. She had money and influence and wasn’t afraid to fight dirty.’
Fraser cleared his throat. Something of the joy had gone out of him. By now Penny was also riveted by Fraser’s story.
‘Kitty hated my father – I still don’t know why. She did all she could to turn me against him, and I’m afraid she succeeded. I remained estranged from him almost until his death.’
'How awful,’ said Penny.
‘Yes, very sad.’ There was a faraway look on Fraser’s face. ‘I’d forgotten how much I loved that man until I returned to Tasmania. But by then Mother’s fondness for money had rubbed off on me.’ He traced a Scotch thistle pattern in the tablecloth. ‘Dad was a war hero, you know, a Battle of Britain fighter pilot. Also a passionate conservationist like yourself, Matthew. It seems I was the only one in the family not to follow in that proud tradition.’ He clapped his son on the back. ‘Until now, eh?’
Penny’s heart melted. How wonderful for Matt to hear these stories from his father, before it was too late.
Fraser turned up the television. ‘Come join us, McGregor, for history in the making.’
‘No, thank you, sir. I’ve never placed much stock in politics. And on top of that I feel sorry for Miss Kate.’
Penny glanced at the television, which showed a large tally board divided into the five state electorates. Host Tom Munro was speaking. ‘If you’ve just tuned in, we’re coming live from the floor of the Pierpont Casino tally room for what’s shaping up to be a fascinating night. We should see some figures from the smaller booths any time now. Polling places were packed out early, with people queuing to have their say.’ The first results were coming in, and colourful graphs appeared on the screen. ‘Things are already taking shape, with a substantial swing against the government. Remember, the swing will be stronger in the large metropolitan booths that come in later tonight.’
Well, what did they expect? Kate had lost her premiership in a sensational fashion and was likely to face corruption charges as well. It hadn’t been a gracious leave-taking. Recriminations had flown in all directions. Kate seemed determined to take her colleagues down with her, and not without cause. She hadn’t been the only one with her snout in the trough, so why should she be the only one to pay? The vicious blame game had mortally wounded the Government days out from the election. They didn’t have a hope. Penny squirmed whenever she saw one of their pundits rationalise the party’s chances, clinging to this or that false hope. It was sad to see people so reduced, whatever their politics.
Matt and Fraser, on the other hand, were watching the ruling party crumble with unashamed glee. There was some heavy father and son bonding going on. Although Penny was happy for them, she was beginning to wonder if she’d ever get her husband to herself.
Matt topped up Fraser’s glass. ‘If Kate broke the law by taking bribes, didn’t you break the law by making them?’
‘I did, but I also handed Hellgrun victory on a plate. Do you imagine his newly-minted government will pursue me?’
Matt chuckled. ‘They’re more likely to give you a medal.’
McGregor called them to the dining room for dinner.
‘Let’s eat in here,’ Matt suggested.
‘Yes,’ said Fraser. ‘Like old times.’
They clinked their glasses together in a toast. Who were they? Tweedledum and Tweedledee? Had Matt forgotten she had something to tell him? Now Penny really did want that glass of wine. McGregor cleared away the appetisers and brought in two T-bone steaks, and a large salmon portion with a baked potato and spinach on the side for Penny.
‘Sorry, I don’t eat fish,’ she said. McGregor looked pained. ‘Never mind, I’ll just eat the vegetables.’
They started on their dinners. Matt attacked his steak with gusto.
‘That’s my boy,’ said Fraser. ‘You always did eat me out of house and home.’
Penny watched her husband with dismay. She didn’t expect him to be enjoying all that meat so much.
The night wore on and the swing against the government grew. Matt and Fraser began acting out an incomprehensible comedy skit in posh English accents. Some sort of spoof election broadcast about a silly party and its ridiculous candidates.
‘Do we have a swing in Luton?’ asked Fraser, hand cupped to his right ear.
‘Not a swing,’ Matt answered, with a grin. ‘But we do have a swong, right here in this box and it’s looking fine.’
‘What are you two doing?’ asked Penny. Fraser was laughing, a great booming belly laugh. A laugh too big for his skinny body. She stood up, shouting to break through the hilarity. ‘I don’t get it.’
They stopped laughing and looked at her.
‘Monty Python,’ said Matt. ‘Dad and I used to watch it together.’
‘The election night parody? You must know it,’ said Fraser. ‘The Sensible Party and the Silly Party? It’s priceless.’
‘No, I don’t know it,’ she said. ‘I don’t know anything about it. Might have been nice if somebody had bothered to explain it to me.’ Penny plopped back down on the couch as McGregor brought in a platter of poached pears and cream.
‘If it’s any consolation, Miss Penny, I’ve not seen that particular sketch myself.’
Matt looked apologetic and reached for her hand. She moved it away. Aargh, what a fool. All night she’d hoped he would do that. Why was she annoyed anyway? She should be thrilled that father and son, so long divided, had shared a lovely moment.
Fraser attempted in his clumsy way to help her out. ‘Your wife seems a little more emotional than usual, Matthew. Why is that, I wonder?’
What was he trying to do? Announce her pregnancy himself? She wouldn’t be surprised.
Loud cheering came from the television. It was just nine o’clock, but Robert Hellgrun was on the tally room floor claiming victory. ‘Today the people of Tasmania have spoken – and spoken decisively.’
Matt raised his glass. ‘Let the great shredderthon begin.’
Hellgrun told the noisy throng that this was a historic and transforming day, that he would govern for all Tasmanians and set sail for the future.
Fraser stood and took a bow. ‘Come, my boy,’ he said, with an expansive sweep of his arm. ‘We’ll look at the guns. Some new toys, plus all your old favourites. I still have your Colt, you know.’
Matt lit up. ‘The Equaliser? I loved that gun.’ He turned to Penny, eyes bright with excitement. ‘Do you mind, Pen? I know how you hate guns.’
He looked so happy, so shiningly handsome. A jolt of love crashed through her. ‘You go on,’ she said, as McGregor came in with coffee and pastries. ‘While I eat all the best cakes.’
Ten minutes later Fraser returned to the lounge room alone. ‘Matthew had to go. Something he’d forgotten to do at Binburra. Said he wouldn’t be long.’ Penny’s face fell. Fraser sat down beside her and squeezed her hand. ‘It’s like herding cats, eh, being married to Matt?’ She was too upset to respond. ‘Forgive me, Penelope, I haven’t been helping your cause tonight. I became lost in the joy of being with my son.’
‘It’s fine,’ she said, with a tight smile.
They sat awhile in silence. Matt’s absence had left them both deflated. Penny tried to imagine what sort of task couldn’t wait until morning. What would prompt him to rush off this late without saying goodbye?
At last Fraser spoke. ‘I can’t bear that long face, Penelope. Why not go after him?’ He shooed her with pale hands. ‘Go on, my dear, go home to your husband and tell him your long-overdue news.’
Penny hugged him tight around his bony shoulders. ‘I love you,’ she said. ‘And I’m so glad you and Matt are finding your way back to each other.’ Then she hurried into the starry night.
It was clear and still outside, so still that sound was magnified. A shrieking owl. The squeal of distant wheels somewhere out on the road. Frogs in the dam. A deafening clamour exploded from the trees all around. She usually liked cicada song, but tonight the wild discord unnerved her.
Penny started the car and swung onto the road; her foot heavy on the throttle, her imagination racing ahead. The expression on Matt’s face when she told him about the baby, his gestures, his words. She needed to hear those words, and a drive that should take twenty minutes seemed to be taking forever.
Penny didn’t see the dead pademelon and the devil darting towards it until the very last moment. She swerved just in time. What a hypocrite, always blaming others for this very thing – for speeding, for not concentrating. It was going to just about kill her, though, taking the time to pull over, go back and check the dead wallaby for pouch young. Nevertheless she dutifully stopped. A male, dead a few hours at least, which meant Matt hadn’t killed it. Struck on the road to Binburra, though. Who then? Hunters? Penny got back into the car. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was talking to Matt.