Golden Hope (65 page)

‘If I
wish
?'
Clytie's voice broke and she covered her mouth with her hands, unable to speak the words that were trapped in her throat.

‘Fine, then it's settled,' Sonny said. ‘Now let's bring the little ray of sunshine in to play with us,' he said, as lightly as if he had not just relinquished the most precious person in his life.

Forced to accept her implied cue, Noni rose and left them without a word. She did not return. Moments later the nursemaid joined them, carrying Max. The child knew Finch and brandished a wooden toy horse at him in the manner of a trophy. At the sight of Clytie he gave a half smile and cocked his head on one side to study her – a new face.

Sonny gestured to the nursemaid. ‘Thank you, Gertie. You may leave us now. Miss Hart would like to hold Max.'

Darting a look at Clytie that suggested she was privy to the full story, Gertie placed the boy on her lap. When Max handed his toy horse to Clytie, she made noises of approval and accepted the ‘gift' with the words, ‘Thank you, Max.'

Each time she returned it to him, Max instantly offered it back, in a give-and-take thank-you game. Then, in search of new entertainment, he tipped the straw boater from her head, delighted when her hair cascaded down around her shoulders.

The room seemed suddenly bathed in an almost painfully golden light. Clytie was aware that Finch was smiling at them, and that Sonny's wistful, encouraging smile was for Max's benefit.

When Alice served them afternoon tea, Sonny confided in mock confidence, ‘Max loves strawberries. I trust you have a strawberry patch at home?'

Nodding in answer, Clytie was determined not to alarm Max by letting him see her tears. She handed her straw boater as a prop for Max to hide his face and be ‘rediscovered' behind it. It was then she caught sight of something that took her breath away. On the nape of Max's neck was an odd tuft of hair – an instantly bitter-sweet reminder of the
fleur-de-lys
shape on baby Robert's neck. At that moment, past and present forged together in a moment of painful yet joyous clarity.

‘I have only one request.' Sonny cursed the coughing fit that took hold of him and in frustration gestured for Finch to take over.

‘Sonny asks if you would consider retaining the name Maximilian. He named the boy in memory of his German grandfather. It is a link Sonny would like to keep with the boy, if you are willing.'

‘I would be honoured, Sonny. Maximilian George Peter Jantzen has a fine ring to it.'

‘His given names will be sufficient. You may wish to alter his surname to Delaney at some stage in the future.'

Finch stiffened and hastened to explain to Sonny, ‘I have not mentioned to Clytie what occurred last week. That is your decision, Sir.'

Sonny's nod of acceptance infuriated Clytie. It was clear that she was again being excluded by the men in the room. Sonny changed the subject abruptly.

‘May I trouble you, Finch, to take some photographs of Max that I may take to Switzerland with me?'

Finch rose to his feet. ‘I'd be delighted. I'll begin at once.'

Clytie handed back the baby to sit on Sonny's lap, while Finch posed and rearranged them to take advantage of the best light, as the baby's mercurial changes of mood made the session an object lesson in patience. Despite her frustration at having to relinquish Max, she was impressed by Finch's skill and patience. Finally, when Max's eyelids began to droop, Sonny's gloved hand stroked the crown of his head then he rang the bell for Gertie to remove him.

‘My son's sleepiness reminds me I must also take an afternoon nap – on Doc's orders. No further work today, Finch. Please take the buggy to drive Clytie home.'

‘Thank you, no, I am in need of a walk,' Clytie assured him.

‘As you wish, I'll send the carriage to collect you tomorrow.'

They took their leave, aware that Sonny's voice had assumed a distant quality, perhaps a camouflage for unseemly male emotion.

•  •  •

They were barely out of sight of Jantzen House when Clytie stopped short.

‘There are a dozen questions I wanted to ask but I didn't want to antagonise Noni any more than necessary. Now you can answer them, Finch.'

‘I was afraid you'd say that,' he said with a resigned sigh. ‘Can't it wait until we get home?'

Clytie shook her fists at the sky. ‘Why on earth should I wait a moment longer? I deserve to know the truth. Two days ago I believed my baby was dead. I've just held him in my arms for the first time in a year – and you want me to
wait
until the kettle boils. You are inhuman, Finch! An unfeeling monster!'

‘All right, all right. I'll answer them if I can – but it isn't simple.'

He sat down on a boulder. Clytie stood over him.

‘Firstly, I can't understand how Noni would give up the child so easily. Was she in league with Bracken's decision to switch the babies? Or did she suspect the truth later? Is she the one who leaves anonymous flowers on Robert's grave?'

‘Steady on. You have a right to know. But let's tackle the questions one at a time. Noni was
against
the handover – she only gave in to Sonny's pressure when he threatened divorce.'

‘Divorce? But he's a true gentleman – he'd never shame her publicly like that!'

‘Nevertheless, he used divorce as a weapon if she fought to retain Max, your child. You're right, Sonny would never expose his wife to public shame, but he implied to me that when he married Noni he had known the truth – about the child's parentage.'

Clytie felt her knees tremble and she sank down beside him. ‘Do you mean the little one who died wasn't Sonny's own child?'

The answer came with a great show of reluctance. ‘No.'

‘Then who was the father?'

Finch looked cornered. ‘That's really none of our business, is it! You've got Max back – isn't that enough for you?'

He strode off but Clytie blocked his path. ‘You're lying. You know who it was. Something doesn't add up. Is this the true reason Rom's been avoiding me? Oh my God, you can't mean Rom had an affair with Noni? But she despised him – she cut him dead in the street!'

Finch turned away, trapped.

‘I can see by your face it's true! If Rom was sleeping with us both at the same time, when he comes back – I'll kill him!'

‘Why? Rom didn't know! He's been desperate to put things right for you!'

‘I find that hard to believe.' She seized on another question. ‘What was it that Sonny shied off telling me about Rom? Has he seen him?'

‘Maybe Sonny didn't want to upset you. A few nights ago he heard Max crying in the night and went to his nursery to calm him. He saw Rom standing outside in the moonlight, watching them. Sonny told me he would never forget the look on Rom's face – he looked haunted. But when he went outside to talk to him, Rom had disappeared.'

‘Why does Rom come to everyone – but me?'

Clytie's knees were trembling so badly she sank down onto a fallen tree trunk, her head in her hands.

Finch knew he might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb.

‘It's clear Sonny only married Noni to protect her child from the stigma of illegitimacy. But I suspect he had an even stronger reason.'

‘What, for heaven's sake?'

‘I think he particularly wanted to give the boy his Jantzen name – because he was
Rom's
child. There are different ways of loving, Clytie. I'm sure Rom was never aware of Sonny's feelings for him.'

She stared at him. ‘You mean – what Oscar Wilde's lover Lord Alfred Douglas called . . .?'

‘The love that dares not speak its name? Perhaps it was. Anyway, Sonny knowingly took on the role of father to Max – and you can see how truly he loves him.'

Clytie held her head as if it was in danger of falling off her shoulders. She looked up at Finch, her eyes bleak with shock.

‘That still begs the question. Was Noni in league with Bracken? Did she knowingly steal my baby?'

‘Sonny isn't sure. But he believes all Noni really wanted was to have a child – any child – to consolidate their marriage. What love there is between them is on her side, not Sonny's.'

Finch knelt in front of her and lifted her chin to make her meet his eyes.

‘Don't hate Rom. He came back to Hoffnung because he loved you. He made me his go-between to help him to put the past to rights. Doc, Sonny and me – we all helped him to bring your baby back home to you.'

‘Will Rom come back to me now?'

Finch looked defeated. The silence was broken only by the mocking sound of sulphur-crested cockatoos shrieking through the bush in flight to disappear from sight.

‘I'm not God, Clytie! I don't know where the hell the future's leading. But for heaven's sake be happy about one thing, will you? Max is alive and well – and in a few weeks he's coming home to his mother.'

It was only then that shock, grief and joy welded together. Clytie gave in to the dry sobs and laughter that shook her body. For once she did not reject the strong arms that held her as Finch led her home.

Seated in his office at home, Doc hesitated before writing the words in his diary in the entry for Monday, June 2
^nd
1902.

‘Peace – that highly ambiguous word for an uneasy treaty – became official in South Africa on May 31
^st
1902. The news did not reach Hoffnung until today, three days later.

‘The second of the Anglo-Boer Wars (in Boer eyes the Second Freedom War) has ended after thirty-one months, fought to the final hour against the brave remnants of the Boer Commandos' “Bitter-Enders”.

‘The death toll on both sides is a tragedy. What angers me is the unnecessary loss of life. Half the Australians who died did so not at the hands of the Boers, but from enteric fever, dysentery and typhoid – for want of medical treatment and hygiene.

‘It's said the final stages of the war cost the British Government two million pounds a week to keep its massive Imperial Forces supplied across hundreds of miles. In contrast, it cost the Boers everything.

‘For Hoffnung, and no doubt towns all over Australia, what often began as an idealised adventure for young lads from the bush, has ended in disenchantment, mourning, the return of the walking wounded . . . .'

Doc couldn't quite bring himself to write the words in his mind ‘. . . and lost souls like Rom Delaney.'

•  •  •

He didn't hear any doorknock, but something made him look up, sensing the arrival of his first patient for the day. The face of the man standing in the doorway was in shadow, the light behind him.

‘Good morning, Rom. No doubt you've heard the news. Peace at long last.'

The voice was weary. ‘Yeah, Doc. But not for
me
 . . .'

•  •  •

Finch recognised that his own reaction to the news of the peace treaty was very different from the rest of Hoffnung. It aroused in
him conflicting emotions and images from his two entwined lives – as Finch and Jonathan D'Angers. It also foreshadowed radical changes in his life that were now inevitable.

Time was running out in his role as Sonny Jantzen's personal assistant. For weeks past he had hidden the knowledge from everyone, including Clytie, that he had supervised all the legal documents involved in the sale of the Golden Hope mine and the Jantzen mansion. The new mine owners, two brothers from California, were due to arrive in Hoffnung within days.

Finch had no wish to remain at the Golden Hope after Sonny's departure. It was time to move on. His employer had been more than generous in his promised pay-out to Finch and had insisted he would write glowing references for all future employers. Finch's current workload was now confined to helping Sonny dispose of his estate. His last official duty would be to drive him to Port Melbourne to sail on the luxury passenger ship bound for Europe.

Today, bearing the newspapers announcing the end of the war, he arrived at Jantzen House to begin the day's work. He found Sonny in his study as usual immaculately dressed, and poring over the photographs Finch had taken from every conceivable angle of The Lady. In most of them Sonny was posed proudly in the driver's seat with the ever-smiling Max on his knee.

As instructed, Finch had organised the automobile's return to Sonny's former business partner in Melbourne. No longer able to afford to remain a silent partner in automobile inventions, Sonny had taken Finch's advice on how to conserve the family fortune to cover his treatment in the Swiss sanatorium and provide for his father in the family townhouse in St Kilda.

Finch waited for Sonny's verdict.

‘You've done The Lady proud, Finch. I shall treasure these photographs. And thank you for the second set of prints. I've put them in an album along with Max's baby photographs, in the hope that as he grows they will be a reminder of the happy times we shared together – and Max will know what he meant to me.'

There was a catch in Sonny's voice that he covered with a nervous laugh. ‘Forgive me, I've never been much good at what the British call keeping a stiff upper lip.'

‘You've done an incredibly brave thing, Sonny. Putting Max's happiness before your own was an act of true love.'

Sonny looked startled, as if uncertain whether the words had an underlying meaning.

He tried to make the question sound casual. ‘Have you heard anything more of Rom Delaney? Has he shown himself to Clytie yet? God willing, he will do the right thing by her.'

Finch shook his head, wanting to avoid a line of questioning that was impossible to answer. ‘I am most grateful for your character reference, Sonny. There's only one problem. I had grown so comfortable sporting the name Finch, I forgot to tell people that I had remembered my legal name – Jonathan D'Angers, an old Huguenot name.'