she awoke in the pre-dawn Sarah understood this necessity – there was much to lose. And there was something else that unexpectedly came to her: the tin chest that contained her great-grandfather’s ledgers was in her grandfather’s massive wardrobe.
‘Is it not too early for you to be wandering about?’ Hamish addressed the lone figure stalking the garden as the first tinges of light illuminated the eastern sky. Claire was dressed only in her chemise and wrap. He took his wife by the elbow and together they walked the perimeter.
Claire ran her fingers across the top of the white paling fence, feeling the sharp prick of splinters in her soft skin. The fence divided their two worlds as perfectly as any boundary. ‘This is a pleasant fiction,’ she said evenly as her slipper-encased feet stepped over twigs. ‘Have you tired of me, Hamish? Do you wish me to leave?’ It was the only feasible solution unless they could come to some form of understanding.
‘I will be away for some days.’ Hamish steered her towards the length of bougainvillea hedge that was now large enough to block the westerly winds.
‘Do me the courtesy of an answer,’ she said, patting at her lacklustre hair.
‘I have tried to ensure your happiness, yet it is undeniable that we have grown apart.’ The fine leather of his boots kicked at a fallen branch. ‘You came here as a young carefree woman. I wonder what became of the person I admired.’
‘So you do not love me?’
Hamish breathed in the earth about him, imagined the being of his land rising and falling in sleep. ‘I have, during my lifetime, Claire, utilised whatever means at my disposal to carve out a place for myself in this new world. You have benefited from my efforts.’
‘I do not deny that.’ Her fingers clutched a little tighter at the shawl about her shoulders. ‘You loved me once, I think. I remember your smile, your body next to mine for weeks on end.’ She glanced coyly at his weathered profile. ‘I think perhaps you liked the idea of love, of being loved. Or maybe you just like possession.’ Claire felt him stiffen at her words. ‘We have a divide between us, husband, one made gaping by your single-minded interest in this great property you have created.’ Claire placed the slightest of pressure on his arm. ‘Your obsession with Wangallon has led you away from the comforts of hearth and home, from the wife who would welcome gentle conversation. We could bridge the divide between us if –’
‘When my time is over my descendants will benefit from the substantial legacy I leave. The Gordons will be remembered. I don’t believe I owe anyone,’ he looked at her, ‘any more or less than that.’
‘I see,’ Claire replied tightly. Although used to his harsh demeanour, there was an unmistakeable edge to his words. ‘So you care not for our small family, for those who have supported your endeavours and assisted in giving your family name a measure of respectability.’
‘I am beyond caring about respectability. It means nothing. A man can raise himself up to the highest echelons and still be considered no better than a dog by some.’ Having paused at the furthest end of the garden, Hamish removed his arm from hers and looked out across the wavering grassland. A mob of kangaroos was travelling slowly across his field of vision.
‘Hamish, what has happened to create such a fury within you? I have seen it growing like a watered seed these last months.’ His brown hands stretched wide across the weathered fence. She reached tentatively towards him, then thought better of the action. ‘You are angry at something that has no bearing on our relationship. And I have not been at my best these past weeks. Between the two of us our marital difficulties have tripled through circumstances that will surely pass.’
Hamish gave such a sigh that Claire’s eyes moistened. She turned aside, wiping angrily at her tears. ‘We have had common interests,’ she sniffed. ‘Respectability for one: Why, you courted Sydney society for years and now we have friends among the most prominent families in the country. Have you forgotten the length of the time it has taken for us to be accepted? When I think of the weeks spent in Sydney during the season when only a sprinkling of invitations were ours to choose from. When I think of the effort I myself went to –’
‘Then don’t think, my dear,’ Hamish said impatiently,