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  ***

  Millie arrived home that afternoon in high spirits. She walked into her bedroom and paused when she saw a new white dress laying on her bed with a shoebox sitting next to it. What’s this? she thought, a little confused. She couldn’t remember when she had received such a gift apart from birthdays and Christmas. What a beautiful gift! She picked up the dress and held it out before her. She ran a hand over the soft fabric. The frock had small short cap-sleeves that would just reach to cover her shoulders, with a cinching bodice that would hug her curves in all the right places. Her most favourite feature was where the cinched-in waist gave way to delicate layered ruffles of white laced material that would finish just above her knees. Oh, it’s lovely! This day is getting better and better! She held the dress to her nose and breathed in its crisp new smell.

  “Are you going to try it on?” Her mother’s voice startled her. She was standing in the doorway quietly watching Millie inspect the white dress.

  “Oh, Mum, you scared me!” Millie laughed. “Did you do this?”

  “For your date on Saturday night.”

  Millie saw the compassion in her mother’s eyes, then she noticed something peculiar. Her mother seemed to be enveloped in a cloudy mist. It was a pale lemon-yellow, blushed with a dark pink that seemed to float and hover about her, following her movements like a shadow. She gazed at the phenomenon with a mix of curiosity and puzzlement etched on her face. Am I going crazy? she thought. But as she looked up at her mother’s gentle smile, all thoughts of the coloured haze faded from her mind. That expression of love that she had so missed in her mother’s expression was back.

  Relief washed over her. She ran up to her mother and flung her arms around her just like she had when she was a little girl. Her eyes became moist with tears. “Thank you so much, Mum,” she cried, her voice muffled against her mother’s shoulder. “I love it!”

  Tears burst and overflowed down her cheeks. She started to sob as she cherished the warmth that she had missed more than she realised. She tightened her embrace, not wanting to ever let her go. The confusion and stress of the past few weeks poured out in waves like a burst dam. She cried for every close moment lost between them. Every secret they hadn’t shared. Every cuddle and every smile shared and known only to them. But most of all, she cried for the image of her mother when she had found her bloody and broken on her bed that day. She knew that horrible day had changed her mother forever, as she was all too aware that her mother was incapable of being the person she was before that brutal attack. And with a heart that weighed heavy with a deep ache, she understood.

  “Oh baby girl,” Lilly soothed, holding her daughter’s trembling body close to her. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” She rocked Millie gently and stroked the back of her hair for as long as her daughter needed her comfort.

  Finally, Millie pulled away. It crossed her mind to make the most of this rare moment with her mother a little longer, as something gnawed deep inside her, telling her that she might not have the opportunity again for a long time.

  “I’m sorry, Mum,” she said, wiping away her tears. “I’ve just missed you so much lately.”

  Lilly’s eyes clouded over as she quickly pulled away. She looked over at the bed where the shoebox sat unopened, and cleared her throat. “I see you have not looked at your new shoes yet.”

  Her mother’s response to her did not go unnoticed. Millie fought hard to control the well of tears that threatened to engulf her again. All the elation she felt earlier eluded her now, and with her heart weighed down, she turned towards the shoebox and opened it. They were white lace covered pointed slippers with tiny delicate heels that matched her dress. Millie looked at them for a long time before mustering up a deliberate smile. “They are beautiful, Mum.” She turned and peered up at her. “Thank you,” she said, her voice a muted muffle.

  “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Her laugh was forced and stilted. “After all, it is your first date.”

  Lilly turned to walk away and paused, turning to look at her daughter. The expression on her face was resolute. “Remember what I told you, Millie. Trust the whisper within you... always.”

  Millie looked at her, solemn. “And what if I don’t like what the whisper inside me is telling me?” she said softly.

  “Then I guess we listen anyway,” she said as she made her exit.

  Chapter Six

  December 6, 1987

  D ear Journal,

  DATE NIGHT!! Oh, and am I just a tad excited! Em has loaned me her thin golden bangles. She said it will set off my new dress. Which, by the way, she loves. She is coming over later to help me get ready for the big night. She is the bestest friend in the world. Thank God for Emily!

  My Dad actually said more than two words to me this morning – can you believe that? He asked about my date tonight. I told him we were going to the movies, and when he questioned me further, my Mum told him that she had it covered, then glared towards him really sternly! Probably the most I’ve heard her say to him lately … but he didn’t say a word back to her – surprisingly. I have also noticed Dad spending more time cleaning the house these days – another strange happening around here.

  After Mum gave me the dress that day, she’s barely said much to me at all … nothing of importance anyway. No more “I love you’s”. No more hugs. No more anything really. And I still miss her more than ever. I have so many questions to ask her about boys and this first date. I would love to bounce some ideas off her too. About how something I had placed in my imagination for so long is now something I am actually experiencing, and how I wonder if this works for other things we want in our lives. And, of course, I would love to discuss my dreams with her. But I know she is not open to any questions; I have tried.

  At least I have Emily. Thank God for Emily! She knows lots more about boys than me; she’s been on heaps of dates. She knows what they like and how to behave around them … she gives me loads of tips. I can handle this.

  I think.

  My dreams continue... Wings of vibrant beautiful shades and butterflies of violet. Deep violet. The background is illuminated white – like a light, a radiating light. Magnificent whales have appeared breaching enormously out of this radiating light only to disappear beneath it again. These dreams are no ordinary dreams. I know this because of the way they make me feel and I can almost hear what she says to me now … but not quite. I know I’ll hear when I’m ready. I just know.

  My visions and dreams are fuel for my art and I am sketching like crazy … love it! Keeps me occupied through the strange hours at home.

  I have decided to experiment with this imagination thing I’ve been pondering. I am going to envision every day that I am a successful, well-known artist in my future. For that is fast becoming my dream. And the whisper within me feels pretty good about it too.

  DATE NIGHT! Gotta go!

  ***

  Lilly hummed a sweet little tune to herself while she prepared her famous passionfruit tart. It was Saturday morning and Oh what a morning! she thought to herself, feeling as light and as fluffy as the eggs she had just finished whisking for the tart. The sun’s radiance awakened the magic in all creatures in the garden outside. Birds of striking reds and blues flew about chattering to one another, and dropping seedlings along their way to the rich foliage below, assisting in the birth of new life for the lumbering presence of the red cedar, gum and avocado trees that surrounded the house. Bees and butterflies buzzed and fluttered through the trees and the garden bed, coming to rest now and then to drink from the sweet nectar offered to them from flowers eager for pollination. The trees seemed to sigh with pleasure while they stretched mighty branches littered with lush green leaves towards the nurturing rays of the sun, while enjoying the hive of activity as the life around them basked and bristled in the freshness of a new day.

  Lilly watched the beauty before her through the window of the kitchen. She smiled to herself, pleased this Saturday morning held such promise. She felt excited because t
onight when Glen was at the milk factory working, Ace in his bed sleeping and Millie out on her date, she would be leaving this house behind forever. She continued to hum to herself as she busied herself in the kitchen with the tart. This is a special tart, she thought. This was her parting gift to the family she was about to leave behind.

  Glen stamped into the kitchen behind her. “Good morning, honey,” he said.

  He reached above her for a mug for his morning fix of instant coffee, and hovered over her longer than necessary. “Cooking up a storm already?” he said, pleased at his wife’s renewed interest in cooking.

  She hid a grimace at his closeness as she looked up at him and flashed a smile. She could smell the fresh apple scent of his shampoo combined with the faint mint of his aftershave. Her stomach churned. “I am making a tart,” she said, withdrawing from him.

  He sat down heavily at the dining table in the kitchen, smoothing his hair in place and preparing for his morning ritual of two cups of coffee over the newspaper.

  He looked at Lilly and grinned. “A tart!... yum! You must be feeling better. I could hear you humming from the bathroom before.” He raised his eyebrows. “Haven’t heard that in a while.”

  Lilly wasn’t quite sure if he was expecting her to answer. She looked askance at him as he sat absorbed in the newspaper. She decided he wasn’t really interested in her reply, but decided to deliver one anyway.

  “I am feeling better, Glen. It’s a beautiful day out there,” she said, pausing while she replaced a tea towel to its hook, “And the world is my oyster.”

  Glen looked up from the article he was reading, and looked at her with a puzzled frown. Before he could respond, she flashed him a brilliant smile and said, “I’m going to hang out some washing.” Then she left the kitchen, leaving him to contemplate her annotation.

  Outside in the backyard, Lilly was enjoying the slight salty breeze drifting in from the bay and the warmth of the sun against her skin while she pegged wet garments on the clothesline. She was feeling giddy with the anticipation for that evening’s escape, and a secret smile played on her lips. She was so engrossed with her daydreams that she failed to hear Glen follow her outside.

  “I think it’s time I cut the grass out here,” he chuckled.

  He grabbed her arm as she grappled for a peg and pulled her close to him, engulfing her slim body against the solid mass of his own. “I’ve been thinking about what you said at the hospital. I want you to know that I do love you, Lilly” Glen murmured in her ear.

  Immediately, she tensed at his touch. Her reverie turned sour as the strength of his arms around her provoked a feeling of powerlessness. The fear she had felt when he had attacked her swept through her in a flood like a river thundering over a waterfall. She struggled to control the anxious feelings threatening to overwhelm her, not daring to give away her true feelings towards him. Not now! Not when I’m so close! Lilly told herself. It was his trust and assurance in her that she needed for her plans to come to fruition, because she was certain he would not let her out of his sight if he suspected her plans were to leave him. Lilly knew he would never allow her to leave. She circled her arms around him and gave him a quick squeeze, and forced a laugh.

  “Love you too. Now help me with the washing while you’re here.” She pulled away gently and threw a wet towel towards him.

  Glen chuckled and reached for some pegs. He was feeling good, especially when Lilly had just repeated those three little words back to him. He watched her as she bent over the basket and picked up a pair of jeans to hang. He stared at her longingly and licked his upper lip as he gazed upon the swell of her buttocks hidden beneath an old pair of denim shorts. Aroused at the sight of his wife clad in her shorts and a flimsy white singlet, he gave her a playful slap on her buttocks when she leaned over to pick up another garment.

  She jumped away. “Glen!” Lilly recognised the look in his eyes and relaxed a little. I can handle this … “Not now!” she said sternly.

  Her demeanour had awakened his desire, and he was suddenly looking forward to some long overdue intimacy sessions with his wife. He decided that after his double late shift that night he would bring his wife home her favourite flowers. A beautiful lily for an even more beautiful Lilly, he savoured. The loathing that shadowed her eyes when she looked back at him, went completely unnoticed by him.

  ***

  Ace, having just finished his daily routine of keeping check of new presents appearing under their Christmas tree, pressed his face against the flyscreen of the old porch back door. He poked his tongue out against the mesh then watched in fascination as the tiny squares filled with his saliva and eventually popped. When he tasted the saliva patterns, he crinkled his nose at the unsavoury flavour of the dusty old fly screen. “Yuck!” he cried, before continuing his saliva creations. A glimpse of his parents in the yard together interrupted his creative moment. Curious, he walked silently through the door and sat down on the cobblestones to enjoy the sight of his parents actually talking and spending some time together. His hopes peaked when he saw them embrace for the first time since he could remember. His heart soared when he overheard them declare their affection for one another, and heard their laughter. And as he watched quietly, he knew then that everything was going to be just fine.

  His father was the first to see him sitting there as they came towards the house. “Hi little man,” he said, grinning.

  Ace smiled up at him when Glen tousled his hair as he walked up the cobblestones to pass him. “Hi Dad … Hi Mum,” he said. His eyes followed them. “Mum, Dad?”

  They both paused and looked down at him.

  “Did you know that in Texas it is illegal to graffiti a cow?” Ace said.

  Glen roared with laughter at his son’s odd question. Lilly’s laugh was one of respite; she wasn’t sure how long Ace had been sitting there and dreaded any questions he might have concerning them. She continued walking up and into the house, leaving Glen and Ace to their unusual conversation about cows.

  Lilly headed for her bedroom, eager for a little breathing space. She could feel her heart quickening and her breath become shallow and rapid. She shut the door behind her and fell sprawling to her bed. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. She coaxed herself into calming the anxiety rising inside her. She hugged her knees tightly to her chest, fighting the impulse to lose control and weep. The detachment she had maintained all these weeks while planning and plotting her escape finally broke as the enormity of what she was about to do dawned on her. I’m leaving my children! the voice in her mind cried. She tightened her grip around her legs and began to rock her body back and forth, attempting to comfort herself as she fought with her mind over what she needed to do for her survival, and the sacrifice that lay before her. She told herself she would see them again – It’s not goodbye forever. She told herself they would be with her wherever she goes – It’s not goodbye forever. She told herself she was a good mother and that she had tried for so long – It’s not goodbye forever! Then she told herself she would not end up like Samantha. And this thought soothed her and she regained her resolve. Her breathing returned to normal and the turmoil in her mind eased.

  She sat up now, feeling the turbulence drain away while the wheels in her mind shifted into gear for the strategic undertaking she was about to commence. Thanks to the approval of the personal loan she had applied for some weeks ago, she could buy herself a car. She had parked it at the end of their street, and every night when Glen was at work and the kids were in their bedrooms, she would take a few of her belongings to her car, filling it enough at a time so her missing belongings would go unnoticed and she wouldn’t have to pack her things all at once on the night of her departure.

  She had been in contact with an old friend from school on the Gold Coast for help with covering her tracks. This friend was Scott who she had known throughout her adolescent years and into her early twenties, before she had packed her then few belongings on a whim and headed south to Sydney to pursue her dream care
er in modelling. Her aspirations died a slow death when she was faced with closed doors to the glamorous world reserved for models. She couldn’t go home with her tail between her legs. Instead, she found herself sharing a small dingy Sydney apartment with two aspiring out-of-work actresses who resorted to turning tricks on the side to pay the rent. Working dimly lit city streets was not Lilly’s style. She opted for long, tiring nights working at a rowdy pub in The Rocks to make ends meet. Enter Glen, and all of a sudden, the misery that had engulfed her young life became alive with romantic rendezvous tinged with a hint of mystery and excitement. She was hooked. Her move to Sydney had a purpose; she was to be somebody’s mother and not a failure after all.

  Lilly knew from snippets of gossip over the years that Scott had kept allies close in a world that abided no rules of the law. When she contacted him and explained her situation, he was eager to help his old friend escape her husband. He arranged, for a price and a promise of a drink together when she arrived back on the Coast, a new identity for her to slip into. The transition to her new life would then almost be complete. But first she had to see her ageing parents. She decided that she would explain everything to them and seek their blessing. Ready or not, Albert and Margaret Winston were about to discover the whole unvarnished truth of her life with Glen. And their pleas from all those years ago, that she take baby Millie and leave him behind would be instantly validated.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a soft knock on the other side of her bedroom door.

  “Mum?” Millie called through the flimsy plywood separating them. “Can I come in please?”

  “Sure Millie,” she said wearily.

  Millie gently closed the door after entering and faced her mother hesitantly. “Can I talk to you about something?”

  Lilly beckoned her daughter to sit beside her on the edge of the bed. She caught the apprehension in Millie’s expression when she glanced at the bed. She knew she had avoided her bedroom since that dreadful afternoon when they had found her there. She reached out and took Millie’s hand, pulling her closer. “It’s okay sweetie,” she smiled. “What would you like to talk about?”