hear the pipes sounding from beyond this world, drawing him into the next.
Guard her, guard my Wangallon, Angus, Hamish whispered. As he stepped from the verandah out into the light, he knew Angus had heard.
Sarah, Ronald and Frank Michaels were sitting on the top verandah. The sky was overcast. Heavy clouds threatened rain. Out on the lawn, Bullet and Ferret were chasing each other in ever-decreasing circles as thunder rumbled above them like a mighty God exhaling, the noise growing steadily closer. Bullet slowed his pace. Ferret gained a couple of feet and was almost close enough to give him a nip on his tail, then Bullet accelerated again.
‘Stop teasing him, Bullet,’ Sarah called out between their barking. As if on cue, both dogs came to a standstill. Their momentary truce was lengthened by a topknot pigeon which flew low over their heads before reaching the safety of the orange tree. A roar of thunder echoed around the homestead, followed by a loud bang. ‘Lightning strike,’ Sarah called out, automatically scraping her chair further back towards the wall. Bullet and Ferret bolted for cover as light rain began to fall.
Ronald flipped through the pages of the Bible on his lap before returning to the detailed family tree inscribed on the first page by Hamish Gordon. With a pencil he added the generations of Gordons since 1909. The pencil hovered over the page, then Ronald added Anthony’s name. Sarah patted her father’s arm. ‘Thanks, Dad.’
‘Well, it’s only proper, considering.’
Sarah ran a hand over her baby bump. She was due in a little over two months. In a fortnight they were travelling north to the Gold Coast, where Sarah intended staying with her father until the birth. It had been surreal to discover she was pregnant. Having relegated the few queasy sensations and changes in her body to stress, Sarah missed the early signs of the new life within her. Yet acknowledging her altered state and reconciling her abilities and personality versus those of her mother eventually salved her fears. Now she was to be a new mother, a mother determined to provide for her child on every level. Reaching for the platter of chicken sandwiches on the low table, Sarah silently thanked her father for coming home to Wangallon. It had been a tough few months for both of them and she doubted if alone she would have been able to muster the fortitude to deal with everything that had occurred.
Ronald studied the aged photograph of the woman in his hand. ‘She does look like you, Sarah.’ He checked the name Elizabeth written on the reverse with the entry noted in the Bible for what must have been the twentieth time.
Frank took a sip of his whisky. ‘She was Luke’s elder sister. Baby Elizabeth was left in the care of her grandmother, Lorna Sutton, when Hamish and Rose moved north to Wangallon. The details are sketchy however it would appear Hamish wanted his daughter tutored in Ridge Gully, which, considering Wangallon’s isolation in the 1860s, was understandable.’
Sarah offered Frank a sandwich. They’d waited months for this promised visit to Wangallon, which on Frank’s advice could only occur after Christmas when his retirement was official. He’d refused to discuss anything before then.
‘When Rose and Luke’s brothers passed on, Hamish thought it appropriate Elizabeth stay with her grandmother. I suppose there was little point moving the young girl north with Hamish a widower. Eventually she was given her grandmother’s surname. I don’t think she ever saw much of Hamish so it was only fitting she receive her grandmother’s estate.’ Frank took a bite of his sandwich, breadcrumbs falling down his pale green shirt.
‘What happened to her?’ Sarah could feel the whole saga creeping up on her again. Distant cousins, cock relations …
Frank waggled a finger at her. ‘I know what you’re thinking, my dear, however there’s nothing to worry about. Elizabeth married quite late and there were no children. Her husband died in the 1920s.’
A surge of relief flooded through her.
‘A small part of the estate,’ Frank continued, ‘was meant for Luke. My grandfather doctored the papers. If he hadn’t done so Luke would have queried who the beneficiary was.’
‘Why on earth would Hamish do his own son out of his inheritance and keep his sister a secret?’ Sarah asked, although she was equally intrigued with the level of complicity that bound the Michaels and the Gordons.
‘I doubt it was for Elizabeth’s benefit,’ Ronald turned to Frank. ‘Luke must have been furious’.