A Changing Land(120)
‘Think it over.’
‘I have.’
‘Go home. I’ll advise your father that he needs to have a blood test.’
‘Unless Jim comes to the party, Frank, we won’t be settling out of court.’
Hundreds of kilometres away, people not of Gordon blood were heading out to work to manage the land left in her care. It was not right, Sarah thought flatly. Her grandfather should have known better, should have done better. Everything about his life revolved around the continuation of Wangallon. Why then would he risk everything their family had built over the decades by recognising her father’s illegitimate child? It didn’t make sense.
‘It will take a while for the test results to come through. Jim won’t dally. He’ll want this finished.’ Frank sorted through his file and passed Sarah a business card. ‘Your appointment is at 3 pm at the surgery of a specialist GP.’ Frank patted Sarah’s hand. ‘I’m only buying time, Sarah. Everything we discussed today involves a lot of ifs and Woodbridge knows it. Our best bet remains with young Jim deciding not to drag out this business and to negotiate a reduced settlement.’ He escorted her from his office through the cream and chocolate furnished reception area with its vases of palm fronds and orange bird of paradise flowers. ‘Now go home to Wangallon. And here.’ He gave her a parcel wrapped securely in paper and bagged. ‘It’s the Gordon family Bible.’
‘But how?’ Sarah looked in the bag and thought of the tin chest. ‘Who gave you this?’
‘My father.’
‘Why?’
Frank pushed the button for the elevator. ‘I don’t know, Sarah. I wasn’t born at the time. All I know is that it’s been in the safe in my office for as long as I care to remember.’
‘What else do you know, Frank? I know your firm has looked after my family since the time of my great-grandfather. I’ve seen the documents. What happened on Boxer’s Plains?’
The lift door opened.
‘Nothing I’m aware of. Now, my dear, you really will have to go. I have another client.’ Frank forced a kindly smile as the elevator doors closed and, returning to his desk, closed the manila folder. He’d seen that forceful type of character before, in Angus Gordon: the determined chin, the ruthless streak that made words powerful, the overriding need to protect Wangallon. Frank was not surprised to see Jim Macken visibly flinching at Sarah’s words during their meeting. The seeding of a forceful personality was a powerful event to witness.
In the elevator Sarah looked at the business card and thought of Anthony. What could she say to him? Her finger pressed the ground floor button for the third time. Damn it, how did someone so meticulous end up stuffing things up so badly and in the middle of when their livelihoods were at stake? He should be supporting her efforts to save Wangallon, not chasing his own reckless agenda. Sarah stepped out of the chrome and glass swinging door and turned into a strong head wind. What a mixed bag Wangallon’s inheritors turned out to be. Anthony inherited a share in the property due to his ability and loyalty and because Angus hoped that one day they would marry; she’d been left a share because she was a direct descendent, and Jim? Sarah shook her head, it was all too simple. She came from a line of men that demanded testicles for succession and Jim had Gordon blood. Sarah walked down the street looking for a restaurant, any restaurant. She needed a drink and a friend.
Lauren spooned the rest of the rabbit stew into her mouth, scraping at the watery juices with a piece of hard bread and her finger. She couldn’t recall eating such a feed before, especially one cooked and served by her mother. She lifted the plate, licking at it appreciatively until her tongue grew numb.
‘More?’ Mrs Grant heaved the cast iron pot from the hearth to sit it on the rickety table. She stuck the ladle into the bubbling contents and stirred the overcooked rabbit. Lauren considered another spoonful but having already consumed two platefuls she glanced guiltily at her young sister and baby brother. They were sitting on the dirt floor, grinding feathery peppercorn leaves between their fingers, smelling the pungent peppery scent before throwing the crushed leaves into the air. They would be sharing one meal tonight.
‘You’re sure then? You won’t be getting a decent feed for a good day I’d imagine.’
Lauren prodded at her belly. ‘I’m fit to bursting.’
‘Good. Now dab a little of this behind your ears.’