Hannah. You’re the future. There wasn’t that much of interest anyway.”
“Surely there was.” Mary Aileen felt her nerve fail. You never contradict Papa. But she pressed on. “I remember once Mum said you hired her and Aunt Meg and Aunt Linnet; that’s how you met her. She would still be in Ireland but for you, and where would we be? You see? The past is ours as well as the future.”
“And you already know as much about it as you need to.” Papa turned his full attention to his plate. The conversation was ended.
Mary Aileen glanced at Mum. She was fully absorbed in eating her dinner also.
“Might I have some more?” Hannah took silence as a yes and refilled her plate.
Edan lurched to his feet. “May I be excused?”
Mum nodded.
Papa scowled. “Stay close where you can hear if we call you. I don’t want you wandering off daydreaming.”
Edan mumbled something. He folded his napkin, carried his dish to the wash tub and walked off into the bush.
Mary Aileen finished quickly, excused herself, and laid her dish in the washtub as she hurried after Edan. Out here at camp, without Grace the maid to wash dishes, the task almost always fell to Mary Aileen. Let Hannah get them tonight , she thought.
“Edan! Wait! I want to see, too.” Mary Aileen caught up to him just beyond the boulders they often manned as a fort. She fell in beside her brother and marveled at how silently wise he seemed at only ten years old. She tried to picture Papa being ten. She could not. And yet Edan, like Hannah, had inherited his father’s piercing dark eyes and good looks. It should not be such a difficult thing to look at Edan and see Papa in the past.
The past is past , Papa’d said. If that was so, why was she memorizing all those dates in history class?
Edan kicked at a stone in the path. “What do you think they’re trying to hide?”
“I don’t know. But I know it’s not something bad, you know—immoral, or anything. When Mum explained the facts of life to me, she said she and Papa didn’t—” Mary Aileen glanced at her little brother. “You know what I mean—nothing before the wedding night. That may not mean much to you yet, Edan, but it’s very important to older people.”
“You don’t suppose Papa’s a convict or something?”
Mary Aileen gasped. “I can’t imagine that! He goes to church every week and seems to like it. He has a spotless business reputation, Mum says. He gives money to the church and to charities. He’s much too good to have been a convict. Mum too. Even in the old country. Mum couldn’t have done anything too terribly wrong.”
Edan led the way down over the rocky precipice, picking his way as he went. To their left, the forested canyon fell away, shimmering in the golden light of evening. “Maybe it’s the aunts and uncles they’re ashamed of.”
“’Tis true that Aunt Linnet is a musical performer. But there’s nothing wrong with that, surely—she’s been married to Uncle Chris all these years, and happy. Uncle Aidan and Uncle Liam out in Kalgoorlie are gold miners. That’s an honest occupation. Uncle Ellis is still back in Ireland; we never hear about him much. And Aunt Meg and Uncle Luke—Papa’s very proud of them, Uncle Luke being in the ministry and all, with his large parish.”
“Papa’s proud of everyone, save me,” Edan blurted.
“Oh, Edan, he just doesn’t understand you fully yet. When you get older and he gets to know you better, he’ll like you more. It worked that way with me.”
“Not with Colin.”
What could she say? He was absolutely right.
That wonga pigeon began its monotonous call again— wonk, wonk, wonk . She was supposed to be the nature lover, but the wonga annoyed her now. The annoyance made her angry, not because it was there, but because she could not control it. She knew she could not turn off the pigeon, but she thought she should be able to turn off the irritation.
Wonk, wonk, wonk, wonk . . . .
Cautiously, Edan
“Surely there was.” Mary Aileen felt her nerve fail. You never contradict Papa. But she pressed on. “I remember once Mum said you hired her and Aunt Meg and Aunt Linnet; that’s how you met her. She would still be in Ireland but for you, and where would we be? You see? The past is ours as well as the future.”
“And you already know as much about it as you need to.” Papa turned his full attention to his plate. The conversation was ended.
Mary Aileen glanced at Mum. She was fully absorbed in eating her dinner also.
“Might I have some more?” Hannah took silence as a yes and refilled her plate.
Edan lurched to his feet. “May I be excused?”
Mum nodded.
Papa scowled. “Stay close where you can hear if we call you. I don’t want you wandering off daydreaming.”
Edan mumbled something. He folded his napkin, carried his dish to the wash tub and walked off into the bush.
Mary Aileen finished quickly, excused herself, and laid her dish in the washtub as she hurried after Edan. Out here at camp, without Grace the maid to wash dishes, the task almost always fell to Mary Aileen. Let Hannah get them tonight , she thought.
“Edan! Wait! I want to see, too.” Mary Aileen caught up to him just beyond the boulders they often manned as a fort. She fell in beside her brother and marveled at how silently wise he seemed at only ten years old. She tried to picture Papa being ten. She could not. And yet Edan, like Hannah, had inherited his father’s piercing dark eyes and good looks. It should not be such a difficult thing to look at Edan and see Papa in the past.
The past is past , Papa’d said. If that was so, why was she memorizing all those dates in history class?
Edan kicked at a stone in the path. “What do you think they’re trying to hide?”
“I don’t know. But I know it’s not something bad, you know—immoral, or anything. When Mum explained the facts of life to me, she said she and Papa didn’t—” Mary Aileen glanced at her little brother. “You know what I mean—nothing before the wedding night. That may not mean much to you yet, Edan, but it’s very important to older people.”
“You don’t suppose Papa’s a convict or something?”
Mary Aileen gasped. “I can’t imagine that! He goes to church every week and seems to like it. He has a spotless business reputation, Mum says. He gives money to the church and to charities. He’s much too good to have been a convict. Mum too. Even in the old country. Mum couldn’t have done anything too terribly wrong.”
Edan led the way down over the rocky precipice, picking his way as he went. To their left, the forested canyon fell away, shimmering in the golden light of evening. “Maybe it’s the aunts and uncles they’re ashamed of.”
“’Tis true that Aunt Linnet is a musical performer. But there’s nothing wrong with that, surely—she’s been married to Uncle Chris all these years, and happy. Uncle Aidan and Uncle Liam out in Kalgoorlie are gold miners. That’s an honest occupation. Uncle Ellis is still back in Ireland; we never hear about him much. And Aunt Meg and Uncle Luke—Papa’s very proud of them, Uncle Luke being in the ministry and all, with his large parish.”
“Papa’s proud of everyone, save me,” Edan blurted.
“Oh, Edan, he just doesn’t understand you fully yet. When you get older and he gets to know you better, he’ll like you more. It worked that way with me.”
“Not with Colin.”
What could she say? He was absolutely right.
That wonga pigeon began its monotonous call again— wonk, wonk, wonk . She was supposed to be the nature lover, but the wonga annoyed her now. The annoyance made her angry, not because it was there, but because she could not control it. She knew she could not turn off the pigeon, but she thought she should be able to turn off the irritation.
Wonk, wonk, wonk, wonk . . . .
Cautiously, Edan
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