Chapter 45
When Emma awoke the next morning sun was streaming in through a high window and she was alone in the bed. As she sat up and looked around, the door opened and Tony came in, fully dressed and having bathed and shaved.
“The storm has blown over and it’s a perfect day,” he said.
It was, Emma thought. A perfect day. But then reality crept back into her thoughts.
She had to find out the truth about Iris, and if her suspicions proved to be correct, then she’d have to confront her.
She felt a tension gripping her stomach, but then she told herself that Tony was with her, an ally she could count on.
They breakfasted on scrambled egg, toast and marmalade, then set off again, returning the car and then going to the station.
The train south seemed to take forever. Emma sat beside Tony, anxious to find out the truth and get the whole thing over with.
She still couldn’t fully comprehend what would make Iris write this story, if she really was part of the tragedy.
Why not stay silent and remain the famous author from Australia until her death?
Why had she sent Emma to Skye knowing that she might well uncover the truth?
She shifted uneasily in her seat. Tony gave her a reassuring smile and took her hand.
That small gesture made everything worthwhile.
If she hadn’t gone to Skye he wouldn’t have come to rescue her, and she might never have known that he cared about her. But there was still Isobel.
“Tony, we need to talk,” she said softly, as soon as the people in the seat opposite got out at Newcastle. “I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to think this through yet, but if this isn’t going to work with you and me I’d like to know sooner rather than later. I don’t want to be let down again.”
“I was doing some thinking when you were asleep last night,” Tony said.
“Only it wasn’t about you and me. It was about my relationship with Iris.
If I’m her solicitor then surely it’s my job to protect her.
We shouldn’t dig into her past if she doesn’t want it known.
If facts came out, they could ruin her reputation, and if she was in any way connected to a murder .
. . well, she could wind up in jail, and I couldn’t allow that. ”
Emma considered this. Until now she had been so caught up in getting to the truth, excited when she had put two and two together and made four.
Now it hit her with full force that it was Iris Blackburn’s life they were talking about.
A real person and real consequences. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ll report to Iris what I’ve found out, and it’s up to her what she does with it.
I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone else. ”
“But you are involving someone else,” Tony said. “If your friend at the High Commission finds out about her past, what’s to stop someone there from selling her story to the tabloids?”
Again Emma hesitated, but then she said, “Nobody need know we’re looking into Iris Blackburn. You said you’d heard her real name, but you said she changed it legally before she came to England. So I’d just be asking about Rose Byrne, not Iris Blackburn.”
“I suppose so,” he said. “But what is all this going to accomplish? If we confront her with a shocking past she won’t thank us for it. She’ll fire you on the spot and probably drop us as her solicitors for helping you.”
“Then why did she send me if she didn’t want me to find out the truth?” Emma heard her voice rising. “We can’t stop now, Tony, whatever the consequences. We have to know.”
“It’s up to you, I suppose,” he said. “But if she turns on you, you do realize it could affect your own writing career. She could tell your publisher to drop you.”
“Golly, this is getting so complicated.” Emma stared at him. “Would she do that?”
“She doesn’t like to be crossed.”
“Tony, I swear I’ll only present her with what I’ve discovered and leave it at that.”
He put his hand over hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. You’ve been through a lot for her. She owes it to you to fill in the final pieces of the puzzle.”
“Thank you.”
“And about the other thing . . .” He paused. “That’s complicated, too. You said you wanted to go home to Australia. Remember, I know what it’s like to be abandoned, too. I don’t want to find I’ve fallen in love with you only to learn that you’re leaving me in a month or so.”
“Tony, if I had something worthwhile to stay for, I wouldn’t go,” Emma said. “If I had someone who loved me, it would make all the difference. I wouldn’t want to leave.” She turned to look at him. “Would you really be happy with Isobel?”
“Maybe,” he said. “We’ve grown comfortable with each other. I’m sure we’d have a nice, pleasant marriage. We’d have the requisite two children. She’d make me breakfast and we’d go on walks on Sundays, or watch the children ride their ponies, and probably I’d accept that this was what one did.”
“Then I shouldn’t get in the way.” She looked away from him, at the scenery that was rushing past.
“But you have got in the way, don’t you see?” His gaze was intense. “You’ve upended things and made me realize that I shouldn’t be content. Content is a feeling for old people. I should bloody well be living and feeling excited about the person beside me.”
“And do I make you feel excited?”
He shook his head, smiling. “Do you know how hard it was to behave myself last night, not to wake you and . . . you know.”
She blushed. “I don’t think I’d have objected too much.”
“It wouldn’t have been right. You were emotionally overwrought, and that sort of thing is a decision we should make together, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Yes it is.”
“But I do look forward to getting to know you better.” He put full meaning into the words, then broke off as the compartment door opened and two elderly women came in.
It felt strange and otherworldly when the train arrived at King’s Cross Station and they emerged into London crowds.
On the train they had agreed that Emma would go back to her flat and wouldn’t come down to Iris’s house until she was ready.
They took the Tube, with Emma getting off at Earl’s Court and Tony continuing on to Victoria.
“Ring me when you find out,” he said. “Only don’t leave it too long. It won’t be easy stalling with Iris.”
“If we don’t find anything soon I’ll come down and present what I have,” Emma said. “I don’t want to be away too long.”
“I don’t want you to be away too long either.
” He smiled and gave her a final kiss as she left the train.
She came up into a breezy autumn evening, the taste of his kiss still on her lips.
It had all happened so rapidly and felt so heady that she found it hard to believe.
After years of just existing she had felt fear and excitement and love, all in a few days.
She had experienced scenery that had taken her breath away, and now she carried with her a great and terrible secret and wasn’t sure how she would dare find out the truth.
It felt as if she’d been away for years, not a few days, when she let herself into the flat.
Jilly’s shoes were in the middle of the floor.
Coffee cups were on the low table. Nothing had changed.
It didn’t seem possible when Emma’s own life had been turned upside down.
She hadn’t been back long when Robyn came home.
She stopped in surprise when she saw Emma, sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea in her hand, eating toast and Vegemite.
“Stone the crows, you gave me a shock. We didn’t expect to see you for ages,” she said. “What happened? Did Skye not work out?”
“But it did. I’ve done my research and now I have to follow up here,” Emma said.
“And I need your help.” She explained that she needed to know details about a woman called Rose Byrne who might have emigrated to Australia around 1904.
“Find out if she really was born in Australia or not,” she added. “Do you think you can do that?”
“Should be easy enough to find out if her birth certificate was registered in New South Wales, or Victoria,” Robyn said. “And I think they can check immigration records that far back. I’ll give it a go tomorrow.”
“Thanks. You’re brilliant.”
Robyn went over to the teapot and poured herself a cup. “So who is this Rose Byrne woman? I thought you were dealing with a fictitious story.”
“So did I,” Emma said. “But this real person may be connected to it and I’d like to know.”
“Righty-oh.” Robyn came to sit beside Emma. “So did anything exciting happen on Skye? What was it like? Cold and gloomy?”
“It was . . . magical,” Emma said. “And quite a lot happened.”
Jilly came home late, having been to a photoshoot with a modelling agency. She was bubbling with excitement. “And they think I may have the look they want. The photographer said I was a natural,” she said. She asked Emma briefly about Skye then declared she was exhausted and went to bed.
The next day Emma waited impatiently, feeling in limbo.
She toyed with going to Barlow and Barlow, but that would require giving explanations.
As far as they knew she was with Iris. Robyn came home that evening saying that she’d managed to get the message sent through on the telex, but she didn’t know how long it would take.
Emma debated whether to telephone Tony but decided to wait.
She wondered whether he’d spoken to Isobel yet.
She agonized over whether he’d change his mind once he was back in his own world and realized how sensible it would be to stay with Isobel.
She sensed he was not the sort who would enjoy rocking boats.
But she remembered the feel of lying beside him, the warmth of his arms around her, and still couldn’t believe that it actually happened.
She was not going to share this with Robyn and Jilly until she was quite sure.
Then on the next evening Robyn came home waving a piece of paper from a printout.
“I’ve got what you wanted,” she said. “There were several women called Rose Byrne, but only one who came to Australia in 1904. She came on the agricultural immigrant scheme and was sent to work on a property in the Hunter Valley. They kept records on these mostly Irish immigrants at that time, wanting to see if they turned into productive citizens. It seems she was only there a few months, and it says she quit unexpectedly, and they couldn’t find her location.
A note was made to possibly return her to England or Ireland.
But then later she shows up, working as a maid, at another property called Fairview. ”
“Fairview?” Emma said. “That’s the estate next to my family’s. How extraordinary.”