Keeping up appearances, p.19
Keeping Up Appearances, page 19
“And don’t forget a church service Sunday morning.” Jean smiled as Marion added it to her list.
“There’s lots to organise but I’m sure we can do it in the time,” Marion said.
“Getting the word out to past residents will be the hardest.” Briony’s face had lost its pinched look as she gathered up plates.
“Yes, we should probably advertise a ‘save the date’ in the Country Courier.” Jean nodded. “With more information to follow.”
“We could make a Facebook group,” Paige said. “It’s free and easy, and once people know about it we can share info there.”
“Great idea.” Marion jotted it down. “Can we put you in charge of that, Paige?”
Paige shrugged. “Sure.”
“Well done, everyone.” Marion beamed. “We’ve covered a lot of ground. Let’s follow up all our contacts during the week and reconvene after fitness next Tuesday. I assume this is a good time for everyone?”
They all agreed.
“Oh,” Jean said, just as the plates of cakes were handed around. “I do have one piece of bad news.”
They all paused to look at her.
“It’s the time capsule.”
Marion’s pen dropped to the floor with a clatter. She ducked down to retrieve it. Jean hadn’t mentioned the blasted capsule during the meeting and Marion had hoped she’d forgotten about it.
“My dear father was worried at the time that if it was left out in the bush garden someone might try to dig it up.” Her gaze swept over Marion. “He organised what he thought would be a much safer place and that was under this very room.”
“How?” Marion blurted.
“There’s access in the corner.” Jean waved to one end of the room.
The boxes of costumes that had been stacked there had been moved and the outline of a trapdoor was clearly visible.
“How long has that been there?” Marion asked.
“Since the supper room was built,” Jean said. “Originally it was to give access to pipes but I don’t recall it ever being needed. Over the years it’s blended in with the rest of the flooring so you wouldn’t even know it was there.”
Marion gripped her pen tightly. Bloody Jean and her secrets. The time capsule had been almost under Marion’s nose all along.
“While my nephew was working on the hall floor I asked if he’d open the trapdoor and retrieve the time capsule for me. And that’s where the bad news comes in.” Jean got up and collected a shopping bag from the side of the hall.
Marion’s gaze was glued to the bag. The lunch she’d recently enjoyed churned to a sickening mush.
Jean put the bag on the table and sat down. “My father thought PVC pipe the best container to keep everything safe, but the end mustn’t have been fixed properly. The contents are ruined.”
Marion gasped so loudly everyone looked at her. “That’s a shame,” she said quickly.
“It is,” Jean said. “It looks as if mice have nested in it and moisture has got in. Anything that was paper, like letters and photos, have been destroyed, fabric has been shredded, cardboard turned to sludge. Nothing was recognisable. I had to throw it all out.”
Marion’s spirits lifted with each revelation.
“There’s one small silver lining.” Jean reached into the bag and pulled out an old preserving jar. “The high school teacher put all the teenagers’ letters in here.”
Marion’s rising spirits plummeted to the bottom of her stomach, lost with her once more churning lunch.
“Unfortunately the seal has perished so some moisture has got in here too.” Jean carefully lifted the lid. “I don’t think it’s going to be worth a big reveal at the Back to Badara Festival so I thought I may as well share it with you girls. Especially you, Marion, as you showed so much interest.”
Marion barely heard Jean’s words over the pounding in her ears. Her gaze remained firmly on the jar.
“I think I put something in there,” Gloria said. “You would have too, wouldn’t you, Marion? And you, Sarah?”
Sarah shook her head quickly. “I was sick. I had German measles and I’d been sent from school to stay with my grandmother so I didn’t come home that weekend.”
Sarah’s cheeks were pink and Marion’s stomach churned harder. That Sarah hadn’t been there was true, but it hadn’t been German measles that had kept her away.
“My parents were very involved,” Sarah continued. “Dad was district mayor at the time. I remember feeling very disappointed I wasn’t there.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Gloria put on a posh voice. “You and Marion were away at boarding school then.”
Sarah looked down at her hands.
Jean carefully removed the papers from the jar. “Oh dear,” she said. “From the outside I thought some of them might be okay but looks like moisture must have seeped in here too. The envelopes are stuck together.” She began to carefully tease them apart. “If yours is okay, Gloria, and yours, Marion, perhaps you’d read them to us. They might give us a laugh.”
Marion’s brain was a jumble of thoughts. If her contribution was still intact maybe she could knock a glass of water on it or make a dash for the door on the pretext of needing the toilet and accidentally drop it in. Or perhaps she could make some excuse about wanting to keep it private.
“Ohh,” Jean said. “The names are gone and the envelopes feel solid.”
Marion’s seesawing emotions rose again.
“But the middle ones might be okay.” Marion’s heart plummeted as Jean carefully lifted an envelope free of the others. “This one says Meredith Fromm.” Jean frowned. “Gosh, they left the district many years ago. We must try to track her down.” Jean put the envelope aside and peeled off another. She smiled and handed it across the table. “Gloria Hensley.”
“Oh, mine survived,” Gloria squeaked.
“Are you two related?” Paige asked.
“Marion and I are cousins. I’m Chapman now.” Gloria fiddled with the seal of the envelope.
“Open it carefully,” Jean warned.
The flap peeled back and Gloria extracted a rippled page. “Not many words are readable.”
“That’s a shame.” Marion’s tone lacked the right amount of sorrow judging by the strange looks she got from the others. “I’m sure we didn’t write anything worth reading though, do you, Gloria?”
Gloria was peering at the page. “Badara news,” she read then looked up. “That’s right, we had to make up a news story about current happenings and then make a prediction about what we thought might be happening in fifty years.” She frowned at the page. “I can’t make out what I wrote. Something about a fire.”
“It might have been that one behind Petersons’ garage,” Jean said. “You remember the Petersons, Marion? You and Gail were the best of friends. Such a shame she died so young.”
“I vaguely remember the fire,” Gloria said. “It got into the tyres and they were worried about the fuel nearby. It was probably the only newsworthy thing to happen in Badara that week. Or even the month.” She tsked. “There’s more but all the words are blurred or soaked away altogether.”
“Try yours, Marion.”
Marion looked from Jean to the envelope she was holding as if it was a snake about to bite her.
“Your name is quite clear so the inside might be okay.”
Marion continued to stare.
“Marion?” Sarah nudged her.
“Oh, for goodness sake, I’ll open it.” Gloria took the envelope from Jean and carefully prised open the flap.
“No!” Marion’s hand shot across the table.
Everyone around it froze except for Gloria, who clutched the envelope to her chest and gave a gleeful giggle.
“Ooh! Did you write some secrets in here, dear cousin?” she cooed. “Something delicious, I hope.” And before Marion could stop her she’d removed the envelope’s contents. “Yours is much clearer than mine was. Let’s see.” Gloria began to read. “Badara Untold News from 1970. Reporters Marion Hensley and Gail Peterson report on the happenings in Badara this year and ask where will these people be in 2020?”
She looked up. “Did you and Gail write this together? It’s bound to be juicy. She was such a—”
“We shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” Jean said.
“Hmph.” Gloria shrugged.
Marion made another attempt to reach across the table but Gloria was too quick for her. She continued to read. “Marion and Gail are both headed for university to become a teacher and a doctor respectively. But will have toured the world and probably never return to Badara not even by 2020.”
“Ooh! La di da!” Gloria said.
“We were kids,” Marion said. “No need to read any further.”
“But I do like to see you squirm,” Gloria teased. “Now what’s next? Billy Brown shows innovative skills. He siphons petrol from Petersons’ garage each week. Will he own his own service station in 2020?”
Jean chuckled. “Everyone knew he did it. I didn’t realise it was that often though.”
“It probably wasn’t,” Marion said, remembering how Gail had had a special dislike for Billy, who had two left feet and thick glasses back then.
Gloria continued. “Carol Devon is always waiting at the back door of the bakery expecting handouts. Will she be earning her own living in 2020 or still be bludging?”
“Oh dear.” Jean’s smile faded.
“I don’t remember the Devons,” Sarah said.
“Me either,” Gloria said.
“That poor family were destitute.” Jean shook her head wearily. “Her husband drank all their money. My brother ran the bakery by then. He always made sure they had bread for the week.”
Once more Marion remembered Gail’s anger as they wrote the news report. She’d made it sound as if the Devons were spongers. “Please don’t read any more,” she pleaded.
“But there’s so much here,” Gloria said. “You get a mention, Sarah.”
Marion didn’t dare look along the table.
Gloria continued to read. “Sarah Glen, daughter of the district mayor, jumped the gun and had an illegitimate baby.”
The gasps ricocheted around the table as Marion fought to stop the contents of her stomach from rising up her throat.
“In 2020 he/she will be fifty.” Gloria read on. “Will he/she know their true parentage?”
That had been Marion’s one piece of gossip. How excited she’d been to know something Gail didn’t. Marion had told her how she’d seen a very pregnant Sarah in Adelaide the previous month and Gail had filled in the gaps.
“Sarah?” Paige’s worried cry made Marion look up.
Sarah was on her feet, pale and swaying. Paige put an arm around her shoulders.
“I…I’m going home,” Sarah mumbled.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t drive,” Briony said.
“I’ll go with her.” Paige cast an incredulous look at Marion before she guided Sarah from the room.
Those who remained stared at Marion. Her heart was pounding so hard she feared it would burst. She cast another pleading look at Gloria.
Gloria glanced at the page. Her eyes widened. “I probably shouldn’t—”
“Who’s next?” Briony said.
Gloria lifted her gaze. “You.”
“Please don’t…” Marion’s voice trailed away.
“You may as well,” Briony snapped. “I’d like to know what scandal my sister-in-law has made up for me.”
“Colin Wilson sells a lot of insurance at one particular house in Wirini Bay.” Gloria’s voice was little more than a whisper. “Will he have moved there permanently by 2020?”
Marion heard Briony’s sharp intake of breath, felt the glare of her eyes, but didn’t move.
“How could you?”
The bile in Marion’s throat rose again as she forced herself to look up into Briony’s broken-hearted gaze.
Briony didn’t wait for an answer. She walked out, her feet echoing across the wooden floor of the hall, and then silence.
Jean sighed. “It was the town’s worst-kept secret.” She shook her head at Marion. “Jill did everything she could to keep up appearances. I think it was what killed her in the end.”
“Ah, yes, I knew I’d be on the list somewhere.” Gloria’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Gloria Hensley goes behind the railway shed with any boy she fancies. What?” Gloria glanced at Marion then back at the page. “The latest being Rodney Tripp. Will she be…” Gloria’s jaw dropped. “Will she be running the town brothel in 2020?”
Gloria’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish but no sound came out. Marion flinched at the pure hatred she saw in her face.
“You always were a bitch, Marion. You and your snobby friend Gail both thought your own shit didn’t stink.” Gloria flung the page onto the table and stormed out of the room.
Marion’s head flopped forward into her arms. The only sound was the pounding in her ears.
A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was so excited to find a small part of the time capsule contents hadn’t been destroyed…if I’d known…I never imagined.”
Marion groaned.
“You and Gail certainly went to town on this town,” Jean said.
Marion groaned again and lifted her head, resting it against the palm of her hand. “I’d forgotten half of what we put in there.”
Jean picked up the page. “It certainly was rather hurtful for Gloria, for all of them.” She glanced down. “Oh, there’s one more.”
Marion couldn’t remember who else they’d written about but she had no more energy to stop it as Jean read.
“Mary Addicot thinks her son Leonard is meant for Marion Hensley. That will NEVER happen. Everyone knows Leonard is a homo. Will he have been found out by 2020?”
Jean made a small huffing sound. “Well, once again it’s hurtful but poor Mary’s no longer with us. You were wrong about Leonard and you did end up marrying him so it was the reverse of what you wrote.”
Marion gripped her face in her hands and pressed her fingers into her eyes. She remembered how she and Gail had giggled over the report, egging each other on. And today, as each piece had been read out she had recalled it, but she had no recollection of the section about Gloria and the last one about her and Len. He hadn’t even been on her radar when she was sixteen. She’d known him, of course, like you did most people who lived in the district, but she hadn’t liked or disliked him. He’d simply not existed in her circle of friends.
“Now I understand why you were looking so hard for the time capsule,” Jean said. “I suppose at sixteen you couldn’t imagine the distant future and the fallout of such a missive being revealed. I think I’ll get rid of them all. Tell people nothing survived if they ask. Are you happy for me to do that?”
“Yes.” Marion sighed, still gripping her face. She remembered she’d got cold feet at the last minute when she’d imagined her parents reading the news report. It had triggered her conscience perhaps. She’d told Gail they should rewrite it, temper it down but, Marion recalled, her dad had arrived to pick her up and he’d been in a hurry. Gail had said she would make some changes but she obviously hadn’t bothered. What did any of that matter now anyway? The report had done its damage. She’d have to face up to people she’d known all her life and somehow apologise. Blast Gail for dying young. She’d got off scot-free.
Jean began poking the envelopes back into the jar.
“Wait.” Marion sat up. Her head swam as her eyes adjusted to the light. “Can I see it?”
Jean raised her eyebrows. “If you want.” She passed it over.
Marion looked at the page of untidy cursive writing. The blue ink had faded and some words were partly erased by moisture but she recognised her scrawl. Gail hadn’t rewritten it at all, but the last two paragraphs were in neat print – Gail’s writing. Marion had always wished she could write so neatly. Gail must have added the final pieces about Gloria, Marion and Len. Why would she have done that? Marion felt a small portion of the hurt the others must be feeling that Gail, her best friend, had made something up about her.
eighteen
Paige glanced nervously at Sarah sitting rigidly in the front passenger seat beside her. The colour that had drained from her face back in the hall still hadn’t returned and she hadn’t said a word since agreeing to let Paige drive her home.
They’d had to go via the kindy to collect Levi. He’d chattered about his morning, and then when he found out they were going to the farm he was full of excitement, talking about the dog and the big swing. Paige responded to his questions about the pet sheep and where Dane was but Sarah remained silent. Finally Levi’s voice became a mumble and just before they reached the farm he fell asleep. Paige was thankful she’d been to the Townsends for the barbecue on the weekend. She wasn’t sure Sarah would have been much help with directions.
The car shuddered as they drove over the grid and Sarah looked around as if she suddenly realised where she was.
“Thanks, Paige,” she said. “You can let me out by the garage.”
“Will somebody be home?” Paige didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone.
“The men won’t be far away. It was good of you to drive me.” Sarah had the door open with one leg out when she turned back. “It’s probably too late but please don’t say anything to Dane or Zuri about…about what was said back there.”
“I wouldn’t.” Paige shook her head but she couldn’t imagine how such a secret had remained hidden in a place like Badara where everyone knew everyone else’s business.
“I can’t imagine what you think of me.”
Paige reached across and gripped Sarah’s arm. “I was pregnant at sixteen. It was the toughest time, an emotional roller-coaster. If what was read out was true, the only thing I’m thinking right now is how much harder it must have been for you in your day than for me.”
Tears brimmed in Sarah’s eyes. “You’re so kind,” she sniffed. “I must go.”
“What will you do about your car?”
“Zuri can drop me off on his way to school tomorrow. I just need some time to…” She dug a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. “I’ll be all right.” She stood and closed the door gently, peering in the back window to look at Levi who was still asleep, then she gave a small wave and walked off.
