There was no reply. Of course â Dancey had gone into Woodfall. She'd get soaked. Soaked.
Behind the roaring of the rain there was a deep quiet, and from this quiet, faintly and far off, she heard her name being called.
âRuth! Ruth!'
Somewhere out in the lane.
She ran down the verandah steps and out to the gate. The grass squelched wonderfully beneath her feet, Hayfield Lane was running with water, out in the bush she could hear the rushing of the waterfall and above it the voice still calling her name â and there down the lane she saw a small figure running towards her, and it seemed to Ruth that everything in her life had led up to this moment: the accident at the crossroads, Barinjii, Tam Finn, the years between, the letter inside on the kitchen table â everything had led to this, the thin dark-haired girl, clothes streaming, running up the lane, calling out her name. âRuth!'
Ruth held out her arms and Dancey ran into them, sobbing.
âI tore up your photo!' she gasped. âI tore up your photo, Ruth! The one the Indian man sent of his new baby and his family! Bansi! I tore it into tiny little bits and then I burned it up! I'm sorry!'
âIt doesn't matter,' said Ruth, pushing the dripping hair from the girl's cold forehead. It was wet and sticky with dust but it had such a wonderful, living feel.
âIt does matter! It was beautiful!' sobbed Dancey. âThere was a baby and a little girlâ'
âHe'll send us another one,' said Ruth.
Us
. Dancey's grey eyes seemed to leap at the word. They glowed.
âWill he?' she asked, her voice trembling. âWill he? Send â
us
â another one?'
âOf course.'
They stared at each other. How like him she was: that pale heart-shaped face, the blue-black hair, the rainy grey eyes â every gesture, every expression was that of Tam Finn's child.
But it didn't matter if she wasn't, thought Ruth. All around them, a new kind of balance was forming in their world â the heat and dust and danger was giving way to rain: the tanks would fill, the grass grow green, people would sleep sound at night. Tam Finn had been lost, but Dancey Trelawny was found â that was the real true thing. She put her arm round the girl's narrow shoulders and turned towards the house. âCome on,' she said. âLet's go inside.'
HYMNS AND SONGS
Tam Finn's hymns are: âCradling Children in His Arm' â
Nikolai F G Grundtvig, 1783-1872; tr. Johannes HÂ V Knudsen,
and âCome Down, O Love Divine' â Bianco de Siena,
d. 1434, tr. Richard Frederick Little
Father Joseph sings: âGlory be to God in Heaven' â
Michael Perry, Catholic Worship Book, 1985
Nan sings: âNut-Brown Maiden', a Traditional Scottish song
Tam Finn recites: âRain', from
A Child's Garden of Verses
,
by Robert Louis Stevenson, 1913
Barinjii Anglican Church sings: âAll Things Bright
and Beautiful', by Cecil Alexander, 1848