raked and free from weeds. There are many better houses than Coombargana in England, but not many so well kept. The beds of daffodils were bright in the sunlight, masses of them, and behind the japonica bushes the camellias in bloom made a brave show of colour.
The Jaguar drew up before the door and I thanked Harry and got out. The red door opened and my father was there on the steps to meet me. I knew, of course, that he would be older but I had not visualised him in old age; one always remembers people as they were when last you saw them. My father was thinner than he had been and his face had a white, pallid hue I didn't like at all, but he was the same old Dad.
He said, 'Hullo, Alan. You're back earlier than we thought.'
T know,' I said. 'I got hung up in London and had to miss the boat. I flew through America.'
'So that was it!' he said. 'We thought you must have flown. How did you get the dollars to come through America?'
I grinned. 'There are ways and means.'
He laughed. 'Well, come on in and see your mother.' Harry was unloading my two suitcases from the boot. 'Stick them just inside the door, Harry, and I'll get John to take them up presently.' He turned to me. 'I'm not allowed to lift anything now.'
'I can manage them,' I said. 'I can take them up, one at a time.'
He hesitated. 'Would you rather do that?'
I nodded. 'I like doing everything I can.'
'All right.' He said no more about my disability, but told Harry to put the car away. We went together into the great hall.
'You're looking very well' he said.
17
I grinned-Wish I could say the same of you, Dad. You're not looking too good.'
'Ah Well' he said, 'we none of us get any younger, and this has been rather a trying day. I expect Harry told you about the trouble here?'
I nodded. 'I was very sorry to hear it.'
'We'll talk about that later' he said. 'Come on and see your mother. I kept her in bed today.' He paused, and then he said, 'Did I tell you that we sleep on the ground floor now?'
I was surprised. 'No'
He nodded. 'Your mother can't manage the stairs alone. It was either that or putting in a lift. We turned the billiard room into our bedroom with the gunroom as my dressing-room, and put the billiard table up in what used to be our bedroom. It's worked out quite well. Matter of fact, I like it better.'
He led the way into the old billiard room. They had redecorated it, and with the french windows opening on to the lawn it made a sunny, pleasant room. My mother was sitting up in bed, not very much changed in her appearance. I went over and kissed her. 'Back at last' I said. 'You're looking very well, Mum.'
She held me for a moment. 'Oh Alan dear' she said, 'it is nice to have you back. But how did you get here so soon?'
I told her my story about being held up in London and missing the ship, and complimented her on the arrangement of the room. My father went out and Mother asked me about Helen, and I spent a few minutes answering all her questions about my sister in London.
Helen was the youngest of us; she had gone to England in 1946 when she was twenty-four, avid to get away into a wider world, like many young Australians. In England she had gone all arty and crafty and had picked up with a chap called Laurence Hilton who worked for the BB C and put on plays for the Third Programme. She married him in 1947 and had not been home since; they had one child, rather an unpleasant little boy. I had tried to like Laurence and to get alongside him but we had very little in common. Privately I
18
thought him a phoney and I suspected that he had seen Helen coming because, of course, she had a good bit of money behind her. However, she seemed happy with him and had adopted most of his views, including the one that Australia was a cultural desert that no decent person would dream of living in. His earning capacity, of course, was quite inadequate for the life they wished to lead. They have a very pleasant little house in Cheyne Walk overlooking the
The Jaguar drew up before the door and I thanked Harry and got out. The red door opened and my father was there on the steps to meet me. I knew, of course, that he would be older but I had not visualised him in old age; one always remembers people as they were when last you saw them. My father was thinner than he had been and his face had a white, pallid hue I didn't like at all, but he was the same old Dad.
He said, 'Hullo, Alan. You're back earlier than we thought.'
T know,' I said. 'I got hung up in London and had to miss the boat. I flew through America.'
'So that was it!' he said. 'We thought you must have flown. How did you get the dollars to come through America?'
I grinned. 'There are ways and means.'
He laughed. 'Well, come on in and see your mother.' Harry was unloading my two suitcases from the boot. 'Stick them just inside the door, Harry, and I'll get John to take them up presently.' He turned to me. 'I'm not allowed to lift anything now.'
'I can manage them,' I said. 'I can take them up, one at a time.'
He hesitated. 'Would you rather do that?'
I nodded. 'I like doing everything I can.'
'All right.' He said no more about my disability, but told Harry to put the car away. We went together into the great hall.
'You're looking very well' he said.
17
I grinned-Wish I could say the same of you, Dad. You're not looking too good.'
'Ah Well' he said, 'we none of us get any younger, and this has been rather a trying day. I expect Harry told you about the trouble here?'
I nodded. 'I was very sorry to hear it.'
'We'll talk about that later' he said. 'Come on and see your mother. I kept her in bed today.' He paused, and then he said, 'Did I tell you that we sleep on the ground floor now?'
I was surprised. 'No'
He nodded. 'Your mother can't manage the stairs alone. It was either that or putting in a lift. We turned the billiard room into our bedroom with the gunroom as my dressing-room, and put the billiard table up in what used to be our bedroom. It's worked out quite well. Matter of fact, I like it better.'
He led the way into the old billiard room. They had redecorated it, and with the french windows opening on to the lawn it made a sunny, pleasant room. My mother was sitting up in bed, not very much changed in her appearance. I went over and kissed her. 'Back at last' I said. 'You're looking very well, Mum.'
She held me for a moment. 'Oh Alan dear' she said, 'it is nice to have you back. But how did you get here so soon?'
I told her my story about being held up in London and missing the ship, and complimented her on the arrangement of the room. My father went out and Mother asked me about Helen, and I spent a few minutes answering all her questions about my sister in London.
Helen was the youngest of us; she had gone to England in 1946 when she was twenty-four, avid to get away into a wider world, like many young Australians. In England she had gone all arty and crafty and had picked up with a chap called Laurence Hilton who worked for the BB C and put on plays for the Third Programme. She married him in 1947 and had not been home since; they had one child, rather an unpleasant little boy. I had tried to like Laurence and to get alongside him but we had very little in common. Privately I
18
thought him a phoney and I suspected that he had seen Helen coming because, of course, she had a good bit of money behind her. However, she seemed happy with him and had adopted most of his views, including the one that Australia was a cultural desert that no decent person would dream of living in. His earning capacity, of course, was quite inadequate for the life they wished to lead. They have a very pleasant little house in Cheyne Walk overlooking the
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