Driftwood (23 page)

Wrapping her arms around herself, Anne wept freely. These days, this sacred spot was the only place she allowed her grief to take over, and no matter how many times she made the trek up here, she always broke down. Once she was back at the cottage she resolutely went back to living, it was the only way she could deal with the pain. And she didn't want to upset William, her crying would only bring tears to his own eyes. One thing she found comfort in these days was knowing it wouldn't be long before she'd finally meet Mary and Edward in heaven, her eighty-one years now taking a toll on her health. The sharp pains in her heart were becoming much more frequent and intense. She'd chosen not to tell William about them, not wanting to worry him — he was getting too old to be burdened with her concerns.

Ignoring the drops of rain beginning to fall, she methodically dusted off Mary's and Edward's headstones, and then the neighbouring one, with her lace handkerchief, the mound of earth before it still fresh. Ben's slow, painful fight with kidney disease had finally overcome him a week ago. A hint of a smile tugged at her lips as she recalled all the good times they'd spent together as a family. Ben, known as ‘Uncle Ben' to young Will and Mary, had been hard to warm to at first, his bouts of binge drinking unpleasant, but over the years, she'd grown very fond of his company. The hollowness his death had left was deep, for both her and William.

With the gusts of wind increasing, Anne decided it was time to head back to the cottage, conscious William would be worried about her not returning before the storm hit. Also, Will Junior and his family were coming for dinner tonight and she needed to finish getting the food prepared. She knew how much William longed to be able to come with her on her weekly visits to the Waratah Station graveyard, as he had done for years, but his stiff and swollen legs refused to carry him all this way any more and with her frail frame there was no way she could help him up here. The graveyard sat on the highest point of Waratah, and with its commanding views, it was certainly worth the climb.

Bless William; he'd never stopped protecting her, supporting her and loving her with everything he had for close to sixty years. Not once had she questioned her love for Will or his for her. It was true love and she felt very lucky to have had such a wonderful man to share her life with. Through all the trials of droughts, floods, cyclones and deaths, their marriage had only grown stronger, and their bond deeper. He was everything to her, the first person she woke up to in the morning and the last one she saw when she closed her eyes at night.

She grabbed her walking stick and began the walk down the hill, reminiscing. She and William had been through a lot and come out the other side still madly in love. The only thing that still niggled at her, though, was why he had got rid of the jewellery box. Her shock at finding it missing from her hiding spot all those years ago had erupted in a massive argument. One that was big enough to curb any future discussion of his motives behind burying it. What was the real reason he'd never taken it to the police? The excuses he'd roared at her that day just hadn't made sense, and still didn't. Before she took her last breath she was determined to find out, and find out she would, come hell or high water.

With Will Junior and his family now retired to the guest bedrooms, Anne took a sip from her tea and glared across the table at a tongue-tied William. Brooding, her fingers tapped rhythmically on the tabletop as she waited for him to reply, her mood matching the atmosphere outside as the tropical storm tossed rain against the corrugated iron roof and the winds flapped the iron sheeting at the sides of the cottage.

Her temper finally boiled over and she stood abruptly, slapping her hands on the table, raising her voice so she could be heard over the wail of the wind outside. Everything she'd wanted to say for years began rolling off her tongue. ‘I don't understand, William. Why won't you dig that evidence up from wherever you buried it and take it to the local police so you can clear the Campbell name, once and for all?' Anne sucked in a breath, and then continued, desperate to get to the bottom of it all. ‘I know we are Donnellsons now, but for your own peace of mind — and mine — why not prove beyond a doubt that Hocking was the murderer? Don't you think that evil man deserves justice for what he did to that poor family?'

William sighed wearily as he clasped his hands, unable to meet her furious stare. He stood slowly, stretching his legs to life, then went to stand by her and gently cupped her cheeks. ‘I think it might be time that you learnt the real reason I couldn't take the evidence to the police.'

Even though her heart was hammering, Anne patiently waited for him to continue, not faltering for a second. She had to know the truth, whatever that was.

‘Anne, I'll just get straight to the point, as there is no easy way to tell you this. I hope it doesn't change your opinion of me or, heaven forbid, make you love me less . . .' Will stalled, blinking as if his emotions were going to overwhelm him. ‘That night I went to see Hocking about what he'd done to you — I accidentally killed him.'

Anne's eyes widened, her jaw slack as she sucked in a sharp breath. Her hand fluttered to her chest. Tears filled her eyes and the room began to spin.

William grabbed hold of her, and, flustered and anxious, words now tumbled from him. ‘I never meant to kill him, Anne. It just happened. I was so enraged by what he did to you. But I tried to cover my tracks and lit a fire in his cottage before I left, so there wasn't any evidence — in the hope that the traps would think his death had occurred because of him being trapped in the fire. It seemed to work, and then, well, Ben turned up that night and blabbed about town and I panicked. I couldn't go to the traps with the evidence because then they'd link me to Hocking's death. Just imagine what it would have looked like if, me, a humble farmer, walked in there with evidence against a copper that was now dead, killed by my own hands. They would have locked me up and thrown away the key — or worse, dragged me off to the gallows. I didn't want you to know because the less you knew the better. It was my own stupid way of protecting you, Anne.'

Anne reached out and wrapped her arms around him, gripping him so tightly he could barely take a breath. ‘Oh, my darling Will, I cannot believe you have lived with this secret for all these years. How could I ever think any less of you? To know you have gone to such lengths to protect me from this knowledge makes me love you all the more.' She tutted. ‘Not that there was any need to, you silly old man. I love you so much nothing could
ever
change my feelings for you.'

William exhaled loudly, as if he'd been holding his breath for fifty-eight years. He wrapped his arms around Anne and picked her up from the floor, her body waiflike in his embrace. ‘Oh, Anne Donnellson, I love you with all my heart.'

‘I love you too, my darling Wild Will,' Anne said cheekily as she briskly tapped him on the arm and ordered him to put her down before he hurt himself.

They stood, wrapped in each other's arms, the light of the dancing fire in the hearth flickering over their timeworn faces. They laid a gentle kiss on each other's lips, their bond unbroken, impenetrable, as it had always been and how it would forever be.

1920 — Far North Queensland

The wind howled, wrapping its icy tentacles around William's skin and sending his heart even colder. He lifted the shovel on unsteady legs, hands shaking, dropping another pile of dirt on Anne's coffin. Tears rolled freely down his cheeks as he reminisced about their long and incredibly fulfilling life together. Their first kiss; the first time they made love; escaping from Goldbury; their wedding day; the lives and heartbreaking deaths of two of their children; and all the unforgettable things in between.

With the coffin blurring in his vision, he recalled the night of their fiftieth wedding anniversary as if it was only yesterday. Anne had appeared at their bedroom door, dressed only in her white silk robe, her angelic face softly lit by the candlelight of the room and her eyes so full of love for him it had brought tears to his eyes. They had made passionate, soul-moving love that night, the spark between them still as bright, as all-consuming, as the first day they'd laid eyes on each other. Afterwards, they had exchanged anniversary gifts: a ruby ring for her and a treasured gold fob watch for him. That watch had never left his sight since, the inscription on the back sending a flutter to his heart each and every time he read it. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he pulled the beloved gift out, running his thumb over her words, loud sobs escaping his quivering lips.
My darling William, time hath no meaning for us, for we will be in love for an eternity. All my love, Anne xx

Shaking his head, he kissed the watch, being careful to place it back in his pocket. Unlike the ticking hand, his darling Anne's beautiful heart had finally stopped beating and he wished he could climb in there with her, snuggle into her, and lie with her for eternity. For now, without her pretty face to wake up to and without her gentle lips to kiss, his life seemed futile. He knew he had Will Junior and his grandchildren for company, and to love, but it wasn't the same as Anne's sweet love. After fifty-eight years, how was he going to live on without her? He wished with all his might that he didn't have to.

Surrendering to Will Junior's protests, William let his son take the shovel from his hands and then collapsed to his knees. His darling Anne was gone, forever, now in the heavens and flying with the angels along with Mary and Edward. If he had his way, the Lord would take him too. His life was done on this earth. At eighty-four years of age, he felt he'd seen enough, achieved enough and lived enough. Joey was gone now, and Abby too; he was the last one of his generation to survive. He'd outlived all of them, when all along he'd believed he'd be the first to go. It was ironic how life always seemed to prove you wrong.

Allowing his son and grandchildren to lift him to his feet, he closed his eyes, whispering his final words to Anne before turning slowly and limping away. His heart was no longer inside him. It was now resting in the earth along with Anne.

Sitting in his favourite old armchair with his extended family milling about the cottage, William called Reg, his great-grandchild, up onto his lap. The watch Anne had given to him for their fiftieth wedding anniversary was squeezed tightly in his furrowed hand. He'd always had a soft spot for Reg, the seven-year-old already showing great promise when it came to cattle farming. William just knew this child would be the one to carry on the Donnellson name and he wanted to leave the boy with something to remember him by in years to come, to give him something other than dirt and livestock to pass down to the coming generations.

Grinning from ear to ear, Reg clambered into his lap. ‘Hello, Great-Grandfather.'

William gave him a loving squeeze and then showed Reg his hand. ‘I have something in here for you, lad, but only as long as you take good care of it. It's very precious to me.'

Reg nodded eagerly, boggle-eyed. ‘Of course I'll take good care of it. What is it?'

Chuckling at Reg's addictive enthusiasm William flashed open his hand, revealing the shiny fob watch.

Reg squealed as he ran his fingers over the glistening gold. ‘Oh my goodness, it's beautiful.'

‘It sure is, Reg, almost as beautiful as the woman who gave it to me.' He placed it in Reg's hand and squeezed his small fingers shut around it. ‘Take good care of it, my boy.'

Reg held it tight. ‘I promise I will.'

William patted him on the back. ‘Good lad.' He motioned to the chatter of other children in the kitchen, smiling. ‘Now, off you go.'

Reg leapt from his lap and scurried into the kitchen to show off his new watch. Within seconds, Will Junior popped his head around the doorway, his fifty-seven years evident in his weathered face. ‘Are you sure about giving that to my grandson, Dad? It's not been long since Mum passed and you might not be thinking straight. I know how much that watch means to you.'

William nodded. ‘I'm positive, Will. And I know Reg will take good care of it.'

‘That he will, Dad. I'll make sure of it.'

William pushed himself up from his chair, the whisky glass beside him on the table now empty. ‘I'm going to be off to bed.' He padded towards his son and gave his shoulder a firm pat. ‘Always know I love you, Will, and that I'm extremely proud of you.'

Emotion tugged at the corners of Will Junior's lips. ‘Gee, thanks, Dad. Love you too, old fella.'

The two men stood for the briefest of moments, the silence charged with the love only a father and son could share, and with something unfathomable, before William turned and headed towards his bedroom.

Closing the door quietly behind him, William removed his slippers before pulling back the blankets and climbing into the bed he had shared with Anne for all these years. Turning on his side, he grabbed the photo of her from his bedside table, kissed it, clutched it to his chest, and then closed his eyes. For some inexplicable reason, he knew it was time to let go, as he heard Anne's gentle voice calling him. His breathing slowed gradually, until it was a soft wisp from his parted lips, before he drifted off into a never-ending sleep where he and his darling, fiery-spirited Anne were reunited for eternity.

2012 — Far North Queensland

Imposing black clouds lumbered in, swallowing up the early morning sunshine and threatening to claim the entire sky as the atmosphere thickened. The wind was beginning to pick up at an alarming rate, scattering dried leaves and tumbleweeds across the flats. A massive flock of birds flew overhead, southward bound, and the stockhorses whinnied, restless, their ears pricked and heads raised high. Jay tilted his hat and glanced upwards, distracted from stacking the empty aviation fuel drums back onto the Toyota. His instincts told him there was a big storm heading their way. But something about this one was different — it was moving in way too quickly.