And Fire Falls (21 page)

‘How are things between you and your brother?’ Sir George asked, taking a fine china cup from the tray.

Sarah took a seat opposite her father. ‘Not good,’ she admitted. ‘I think that he would like to see me out of the family business.’

‘First time that he has shown any real ambition,’ Sir George said with just the faintest of smiles and Sarah experienced a pang of disappointment. ‘But you have more than proved yourself with your astute decisions. Do you know when I was in Canberra I had trouble ordering asparagus. It seems all our asparagus crops are going to the Americans. It shows that we are making a good profit from your venture.’

Sarah relaxed. She had many questions to ask her father about the past and his relationship with her mother but realised this was not the time as business came first, and her father had just openly expressed his support for her. ‘You are still the captain of our ship,’ she said. ‘But I fear Donald will attempt to sink it.’

‘That is a strong accusation,’ Sir George said. ‘You need to explain yourself.’

‘For one, he still harbours a desire to sell Glen View to Mr Duffy, and secondly, he appears to be swayed by that American girl, Olivia Barrington. I feel she is only interested in furthering the Barrington cause on this side of the Pacific, and is using Donald to do it.’

‘Well, as for Mr Duffy,’ Sir George said. ‘I have been informed through my sources that he is currently on active service in New Guinea, and his chances of surviving are not all that great. I have also learned that your cousin, David is also on his way to join the fighting there. The way the Japanese are hammering our people in the mountains of New Guinea I doubt that we will have to worry about either of them.’

The thought of David in imminent danger caused Sarah a start. She had been long aware that her father hated him for reasons he would not explain, but Sarah had worked out he was simply seen as a competitor to her and Donald to control the Macintosh financial empire. Despite her choice to renew her relationship with Charles Huntley, Sarah had trouble putting her time at Manly out of her secret thoughts. There had been something about that one night that still haunted her. ‘Where do we stand at the next board meeting?’ she asked.

‘Together,’ her father replied and Sarah now knew she held the balance of power in the family. Only she and her father shared their terrible family secret.

*

The news that Captain James Duffy USMC had been found and was alive and in good health was quickly relayed to his family. Olivia almost fainted when she was told, and then she burst into tears of joy. Her beloved twin was back at Henderson Field, but her joy was dampened when she realised he would no doubt soon be back in action flying his fighter aircraft again. How many miracles did God allow? The war in the Pacific was almost a year old and the Japanese were still in control. How long would this time of death continue, and would James live long enough to survive it?

20

A
rriving at Port Moresby was very much like coming home for Captain David Macintosh. Many of his company had thought that the big town on the harbour would have jungle right down to the water and were surprised to discover that the foothills surrounding the harbour town reminded them of Australian towns out west.

David’s battalion was put ashore and immediately found themselves preparing to go up the track to engage the Japanese.

In the base camp outside Moresby khaki uniforms were thrown into boiling water with green dye, and officers removed insignias of rank. Such was the close fighting in the dense jungle that indications of rank could be seen, making officers immediate targets for elimination. Revolvers were swapped for rifles, and American-style button up garters secured the long slacks to the boots.

When that was completed David passed down the order to the company on behalf of the OC that the men were to participate in marches in the nearby low hills to strengthen leg muscles for the steep and tortuous track that would take them to their enemy.

In an intelligence briefing David learned that some of the fiercest fighting had occurred just recently, and that the original militiamen were still in the field. The news was grim as the Japanese were advancing, despite desperate close-quarter fighting. The enemy was so close that the men of the battalion could hear the report of the two 25 pounder artillery guns shelling the Japanese forward positions on Ioribaiwa Ridge.

The battalion was driven by truck to Rouna Pass. David’s men marvelled at the natural beauty of a huge waterfall and the surrounding forest that was just as they’d imagined a real jungle to be. It was a place of incredible beauty.

The men disembarked and settled into a makeshift camp of tents in a rubber plantation on the Sogeri Plateau. In his capacity as company second-in-command, David found himself in the role of administrator, working closely with the company sergeant major. He missed the closeness with his men, but they would still address him as ‘boss’ whenever he came across them. The newly commissioned platoon commander replacing David was a Lieutenant Dan Frogan, whose father of the same name had fallen during the last war. He was a cheerful, powerfully built young man who had been a first-grade rugby player back home.

‘We’re on twenty-four hours notice to move up the track,’ the company commander told David. ‘Mail has arrived so remind the men that they are not supposed to carry any personal items into battle.’

David walked over to the truck that had brought up the mail and other supplies. He himself had received two letters. He glanced at the handwriting eagerly and was a little disappointed to see that neither was from Sarah. David was mystified why she was no longer writing to him as he had always looked forward to her letters when he was on active service in the Middle East.

The next day the battalion was given orders to move up into the Owen Stanley Range. David was about to face yet another enemy – this time it was the Japanese.

*

The September board of management meeting was held in the Macintosh offices in Sydney. It had been many months since Sir George had taken his place on the board and so the other members were surprised to see him take a seat at the head of the table. Next to him sat his young and beautiful daughter. Donald greeted his father and took a seat at the opposite end of the table. He seemed to be distancing himself from his father, the chairman, but at the same time facing up to him.

‘Well, it’s good to be back in the captain’s chair,’ Sir George said, and Sarah smiled at their private joke. ‘In the last few months I have had meetings with our people in Melbourne and attended conferences with the Prime Minister in Canberra. He congratulated us on our efficient manner of supplying our American allies with the goods and services they require here. I should make special mention that much of our strategic planning can be attributed to my daughter.’

A small chorus of ‘Hear, hear’ accompanied Sir George’s praise for his daughter, and when she glanced down the row of faces of the older men she thought that they actually
meant it. She could see from Donald’s frown that he, however, was not at all pleased
.

‘While I was in Canberra I was able to secure . . .’ Sir George hesitated. Sarah had suddenly turned very pale and hurried out of the room. ‘I am sorry, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘It appears that my daughter has taken ill. I am sure that she will return to us soon, so we will get on with the matter raised in Canberra, which I feel will be of benefit to us.’

The meeting continued but Sarah did not return, and as his father laid out the new scheme Donald grew furious. It was obvious that Charles Huntley had leaked the confidential information – but not to him. The meeting was eventually closed and an angry Donald Macintosh rose from his seat stiffly to intercept his father before he left the boardroom.

‘Is there something you wish to speak to me about?’ Sir George asked coldly.

‘Where did you get that information?’ Donald asked.

‘Charles Huntley, of course. He told your sister about the contract,’ Sir George replied. ‘We don’t pay him to sit on his hands.’

‘I deal with Charles,’ Donald said, ‘not my sister.’

‘That is between you two,’ Sir George said. ‘But your sister has proven to be very astute in our business dealings. Now, if there is nothing else to discuss I have an appointment at my club.’

Fuming, Donald watched his father walk away. It was time to confront Sarah. He left the room and looked up and down the corridor but could not see her. Storming to her office he walked past the receptionist and threw open the door. Sarah was sitting at her desk, her pale face covered in a sheen of sweat.

‘What is wrong with you?’ he asked bluntly.

Sarah looked up at him. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I suddenly felt nauseous and had to be sick.’

‘I’m sorry you’re not well, but after you left I had to sit through a meeting where Father outlined information leaked to you by Charles. You know he is to go through me in regards to anything from the government.’

‘Things have changed,’ Sarah said calmly. ‘It’s no secret that you want me out of the business.’

‘Sarah, you could choose to do anything else, but business is a man’s occupation, not some young girl barely out of school,’ Donald said in a pained voice. ‘You have had some luck to date, but when Father passes away it will be me who will take on the leadership of the family enterprises.’

‘You have forgotten David,’ Sarah countered. ‘He is an equal partner.’

‘I don’t think that David wants to return to the business world,’ Donald said.

‘That just leaves you and me.’

‘What about Father?’ Sarah asked.

‘Father will not be around forever,’ Donald answered. ‘It is obvious that he is not a well man, and the survival of the family’s empire will require the leadership of a man.’

Sarah could feel that the nausea had not left her and did not wish to continue the argument with her brother who had at least come out to declare his aspirations to be the sole leader of the family enterprises. ‘If you don’t mind, I would like some privacy,’ said Sarah. ‘Unless you wish to clean up after me.’

Donald backed away and left the office.

*

When Sarah was still feeling nauseous and throwing up a week later, she decided it best to see a doctor. He did not break the news to her gently.

‘You are pregnant,’ he said without a smile, knowing that his patient was a single woman.

Sarah was shocked. How could this have happened? She had insisted that Charles take measures to prevent this very thing occurring. But then she remembered the night with David and the shock was even greater. It had to be David’s child!

‘How far along?’ she asked.

‘You appear to be in your first trimester.’

Sarah’s mind was reeling. She was a single woman most probably carrying the child of her cousin, a man she knew she had no future with. She knew of the backyard abortionists, and also of their unsavoury reputations and the dangers involved. She was not prepared to take the risk. That left only a respectable marriage to Charles Huntley to avoid scandal.

What frustrated Sarah most was that she was on the verge of pushing her brother to the sidelines with the help of her father but the pregnancy would cut that idea short. For the moment, the pregnancy did not show and it was time to make her move to marry Charles Huntley. Men were easily fooled, and she would tell Charles she was pregnant and he was the father. She knew he would do the right thing and marry her.

Charles had driven her to her appointment and was even now waiting in the reception room. Sarah nodded her thanks at the doctor and found Charles sitting outside with a magazine in his hands.

He rose with an anxious expression. ‘Has the doctor worked out what is wrong with you?’

‘I’ll tell you when we go down to the car,’ Sarah answered with a weak smile.

Charles followed Sarah down the stairs, opened the door to his car and sat down in the driver’s seat. Sarah composed herself, knowing that she would have to put on the best performance of her life.

‘Charles, we are expecting a child,’ she said and could see the blood drain from his face.

‘But how could that be?’ he asked. ‘I have always been so careful.’

‘Unfortunately the protection you used must have been faulty,’ Sarah responded. ‘I was told by the doctor that this can happen,’ she lied. ‘I am so pleased at the news and I hope that you are too.’

For a moment Charles Huntley sat with his hands on the steering wheel, staring ahead. ‘You swear that it is my child?’ he said finally.

Sarah gripped the door handle as if to get out of the car, tears already emerging. ‘That you should even ask if it is your child,’ she said with indignation, and Charles grabbed her arm to prevent her stepping from the car.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘The news has just came as an utter surprise, but I am pleased.’

Sarah looked at Charles, tears streaming down her face. ‘Are you really? I do so want us to be happy together. I don’t want our child to be born a bastard. I know all this is a bit sudden but possibly ordained by God.’

Charles took a deep breath. ‘Will you consent to marry me? I had intended to ask you under more romantic circumstances, but this news has changed all that.’

‘Of course I will,’ Sarah replied, beaming a smile that was genuine. Now her reputation was protected, all she had to do was plot how she was going to take control of the business as her pregnancy became evident. She knew the board members would not stand for a pregnant woman in their midst, daughter of Sir George Macintosh or no.

Something haunted her, though, and a troubling image from that night at Manly crept into her thoughts. As David had tossed and turned in his troubled sleep Sarah had had the uncanny sense that the two of them were being watched. A shadow in the corner of the room had taken the shape of what looked like an Aboriginal warrior. She had had the strange notion that she was being warned about something.

*

Captain David Macintosh had mixed feelings about their current bivouac at Bisataku. They were in the rear area, and the base on the track had been set up with an outdoor picture theatre showing the Hollywood film,
Garden of the Moon,
starring Pat O’Brien. The camp was located beside a very pleasant river with a deep swimming hole. It even had a canteen. Days earlier, the battalion had been issued the luxuries of canned fruit, tins of reduced cream, and bread and butter while the wounded and sick passed them on their way back from the front line. David, however, felt frustrated that they had not been sent into battle but instead were still waiting in relative comfort in the rear area.

He had completed the latest round of company paperwork and found a quiet place at the edge of the rainforest to clean his rifle. He was sitting with the rifle bolt out when he was joined by Lieutenant Peter Herbert.

‘I was able to scrounge a newspaper only a month old,’ Peter said, sitting down beside him. ‘The Yank press are calling our track a trail. We don’t have trails in Australia, only tracks. The way Yankee influence is taking over, we’ll have to start referring to this as the Kokoda Trail and not the good old Aussie Kokoda Track.’

David finished wiping down the bolt with a light coating of gun oil and slid it into the rifle. ‘No matter what they call it,’ he said, working the bolt to ensure it did not jam, ‘all I can see is mud, mud and more bloody mud. Doesn’t matter what they call it.’

‘Any word of when we’ll get our chance to have a go at the Nips?’ Peter asked.

‘I’m just a company 2IC,’ David shrugged. ‘I don’t get told anything until the last moment. How are your boys shaping up?’

‘They’re pretty keen to have a crack,’ Peter answered. ‘I only wish they would send up another flick from Moresby. All I hear around the platoon is that bloody tune “Garden of the Moon” being whistled or hummed by the boys.’

David laughed. ‘Well, I see the resupplies have arrived, so I’ll have to round up the CSM and see what surprises are waiting for us – hopefully the mail.’

He stood and ambled over to the area where he had last seen the company sergeant major; he was dressing down a soldier he had caught leaving his rifle leaning against a tree.

‘I see that you have things in hand, sergeant major,’ David said to the stocky NCO. ‘Any word on our issue for the advance ahead?’

‘Got the issue this morning,’ the CSM said and reached into his pocket for the list. He handed it to David, who took in what each man would be carrying into battle. Of interest to David was the appearance in the company of a new Australian invention, the Owen submachine gun. It fired 9 mm ammunition and Lieutenant John Dulley was happy about that as he still carried a pistol taken from a dead German paratrooper at Crete that took the same ammunition.

David passed back the list to his CSM and glanced over at supplies being piled for distribution. Amongst them was the mailbag and already platoon sergeants were going through the letters and parcels to collect for their men. David wandered over and was passed a single letter. It was from Sean.