Gertrude watched her and envied the ease with which Wilz lived her life. “But you said you liked doing the charities.”
“Yes I did, but it would be so much easier to be at home without having to deal with these stuffy old people. Who cares if they don’t want to give their money to the orphans or the art society? I only put up with it all because it suits me.” She pulled her nightgown back up on her shoulder, her hands running over her throat. “Lovers are easy enough to find if one knows what one wants. It would save the tedious journey to Sydney all the time if I didn’t have to venture to dull meetings though.”
“You have more than one lover?”
“That would be telling, darling sister.”
Wilz. How could you be so, so …?”
“Loose? Free and easy? Take your pick. I really don’t care what you call me. I’m living my life the way I want to and that’s all there is to it.”
“Is Ernest … did you sleep with him?”
Wilz glanced at her, a smile curving her lips. “Perhaps.”
“But doesn’t he mind … you know, you having …”
“Other lovers?”
Gertie nodded her head, turning away to hide her flaming cheeks.
“He has his own life of course and I don’t say anything about who he sleeps with. Our relationship suits us. You’ll understand when you’re older.”
Gertie doubted it. She would be faithful to one man until the end, it was how she was made. After last night, the gorgeous trumpet player was top of her list. When Ernest had helped her with her coat, he’d introduced himself and spoken to her just long enough to set her heart pounding.
Wilz moved the heavy curtain to one side to look out at the street and wondered if her big sister was more like Papa than they realised with her funny turns and unpredictable behaviour.
Wilz moved from the window and placed a hand on one hip. “You won’t tell anyone. I know you won’t. We both have secrets, Gertie my love. We both want to live our own lives and that’s all you need to know.”
Chapter 11
Sydney 1980
Billie pushed her sponge bag into her overnight case. Regardless of the conflict with her mother, the zing of adrenaline soared through her veins. Today she would take back her life, get her teeth into this story and try to put the past behind her. If she could bury her dark secrets, keep her head above water and take each day as a new beginning, she was half way on the road to recovery. Halfway back to taking charge of her own destiny.
She mentally ticked off her list. Change of clothes - tick, spare shoes for walking - tick, money for expenses – tick, notebooks and pens – tick. Something was missing. Billie tapped her finger on her bottom lip. Earrings! She opened her bedside drawer and picked out a pair and clipped them to her lobes.
The pile of letters stared at her. She thought about taking them, hoping the connection would be in there somewhere. Before she could change her mind, Billie picked them up. The faint smell that wafted up tugged at something in the back of her mind but she couldn’t nail it. Instead she took out the next letter. One only to keep me thinking on the trip. She lifted the flap and pulled out the folded sheet of paper.
12th August, 1940
My darling Wilz,
My great adventure beings at last! My heart beat wildly in my chest as the boat departed the dock last week. I didn’t know whether to celebrate or to feel the loss of finally leaving you. I wanted to hug you one more time to tide me over until I see you again.
We were allowed one last night out before we left, to say goodbye to family and friends. I did try to phone you but nobody answered my call.
Thank you so much for telling my trumpet player where I was. Such a gentleman and so very charming. We had tea at a small shop near the dock as time was short. I will miss him even though we have only just met. He works in Sydney, not as a musician as I thought (that is his hobby) but for his father’s firm. He is a lawyer. He has promised to write while I’m away.
Matron said we will find out shortly exactly where we are headed but word onboard is the Middle East as I suspected. I’m both thrilled and concerned about what we will find there.
The ship is full of nurses and doctors as well as physiotherapists and Matron puts us through our paces every day without fail. We must be able to react without thinking, and I’m happy to report that most of what I’ve learned these last couple of months has stuck.
I do hope things are well at the estate. I’ve received no letters from you to date but I suppose that is to be expected with so much upheaval at home. I pray that these letters reach you. I do wish I knew your news though, dear sister. Not getting news from home does sadden me but I will forge ahead and hope for the best for you.
I pray that Ernest is looking after you and you have managed to get Papa settled once and for all.
Your loving sister,
Gertrude.
P.S. Please ask Eric to put flowers on Mama’s grave for me.
It was nice to drive a car again, even if she did have to concentrate on staying on the right side of the road. Catching a bus to work certainly saved Billie money, but it didn’t give her the time alone to think or the freedom to go where she wanted
