You look familiar: story time

Last month, I was visiting my mother in country New South Wales. One morning, we were approaching the local pie shop. They make good coffee there. Entering before us was an older couple who looked very familiar to me. Minutes later, when I’d placed our order and was waiting for the coffee, I turned to Mum and revealed from where I recognised the couple: my imagination! They looked just as I’d pictured a couple I’d written a story about years earlier. While their garb was more modern than my Robert and Anne, they moved the way I’d pictured, even stood at the same small stature. It was incredible; an odd, thrilling experience.

I hadn’t thought about that story in a while. Here it is, if you’d like to read it.

Back River Road

Lisa breathed in deeply. It was summer, her favourite season. She was in the garden picking herbs for her guests’ dinner that night. The hills around her stood like protective guardians, solid, eternal. Even in the midst of her daydreams, or while performing the many jobs on the farm, she was ever aware of those hills. This place could captivate and comfort her in a moment.

As her mind wandered, she noticed her pair of white geese, Goose and Gander. There they were, pecking companionably on the outer edge of the garden before ambling down to the pond to catch the last of the day’s sunshine. How glad she was to have Gander as company for Goose after her first mate died in the winter. Goose had been so lonely, but now Gander, much younger, cheerfully, proudly, as though he was born to the role, never left her side. It had all worked out well. Goose was content again, no longer troubled by her enforced confinement. Imagine, an adventurous little soul like Goose having deformed wings and not being able to fly. Lisa had never heard of the condition before, and its being named Angel Wings didn’t make it any less painful to contemplate. To see them pottering around together consoled her. Each of them probably thought they were protecting the other! Well, so be it. It was a happy ending to a sad episode, and gladness filled her heart as she eavesdropped on their chatter.

The breeze picked up; even in summer the air here could be crisp. It was one of the reasons she and Garth had fallen in love with the place and decided to move here away from the stifling humidity up north. Lisa caught the end of her shawl, which had shifted off her shoulder slightly, and wrapped it tighter against her. When the phone rang, she welcomed the excuse to head indoors. She could collect her jacket before coming back to finish gathering what she needed from the garden.

She hurried to reach the phone in time to catch the call. It could be her guests wanting to inform her of a delay in arrival. As it happened, they were not only delayed, they weren’t coming at all. Her years of running a guesthouse had taught her to expect the unexpected. She was cordial and listened with sympathy to her apologetic callers, who’d had car trouble in Launceston, and the promise of a replacement vehicle had fallen through. Oh well. After Lisa returned the receiver to the cradle, she informed her chef, Kailey, that it would be just the two of them that night. Garth was still in Melbourne with the children, and there was no reason she and Kailey shouldn’t enjoy a delicious meal together for a change. With the revised plans quickly settled, Lisa donned her jacket and returned to the garden. 

She was cutting the last of the season’s white peonies to decorate the table with when she heard the chain of the gate unlatch behind her. Usually the sound of a car’s tyres on the gravel driveway announced the arrival of guests. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and this wasn’t the time of day a neighbour would call in. Puzzled, she turned and took in the sight of the couple before her. Her curiosity deepened. Approaching her was a stately looking pair in, she guessed, their mid-60s. He stood not much taller than she and proudly bore a full beard with only the lightest peppering of grey. There was yet a modest covering of carefully trimmed light brown hair on his head and his dark grey dust coat seemed at once sadly out-dated and sharply contemporary; it was ideal for this weather—had they walked here? They hadn’t driven here, and yet neither bore any sign of physical exertion, even though it was a gradual ascent of three kilometres on winding roads from town up to the property. His female companion, who Lisa could now see was much younger than she had appeared from further away, had a gentle look about her. A melancholy air hovered around her, yet she didn’t seem to bear a grudge against the world, and was presented in a refined yet serviceable travelling dress of rich dark green fabric that fell to the ground. Her pale brown overcoat was embroidered in a dark brown floral motif. Dark brown leather kid boots poked out from under her dress as she stepped gingerly forward over the uneven grass. Other than a small leather suitcase in the gentleman’s hand and a pouch on the wrist of the lady, they had no luggage.

Lisa’s reverie over their oddness was broken when, now standing directly before her, the gentleman spoke.

‘Good evening, Madame.’

‘Good evening, Sir. Madame.’

‘By any chance, would you have a room spare for my wife and I this evening?’

‘Yes, why yes, you’re in luck! The guests I had been expecting just phoned through to cancel their booking, so happily, we can accommodate you. I’m Lisa. Welcome to Stanton.’

‘Thank you, Lisa. I am Robert, and may I present my wife, Anne.’

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Please, follow me.’

Lisa ushered her surprise guests along the short walk from the garden to the five misshapen sandstone steps that led to the front door. Though many of the original features of this beautiful building had thankfully been preserved, these steps were Lisa’s favourite. She delighted in the depressions that had formed in the middle of each step over more than a century of supporting countless people’s footfalls as they entered and exited her stately yet humble home.

Robert and Anne followed Lisa into the receiving hall, another architectural reminder of an era long gone. It was just the right size, too. Not as large as those rather vulgar mansions of the American South she’d seen in films like The Philadelphia Story. Why, there was room to host a wedding reception in those, they were simply ridiculous. But this hall was large enough to allow people’s luggage to be placed to one side, for her desk and chair to appear unobtrusive, and for the Christmas tree to snuggle up to the banister, when the time came, and still leave room for everyone to stand comfortably, without feeling as though they might knock something over. The three of them stood there now, in the soft light of the orange lamp on the desk and the remnants of daylight, now turning a purpley pink as twilight unfolded. 

Before Lisa had a chance to begin her routine welcome, Robert spoke again.

‘Lisa, if you don’t mind, I’d like to settle our bill immediately. Anne and I will need to make a very early start tomorrow morning, and I’d prefer to make clean our departure.’

‘Yes, of course, Robert, of course. Wouldn’t you like to see the room first, though?’

‘I’m sure it will be more than satisfactory. You have created a most comfortable and welcoming home here, Lisa.’

‘Why, thank you for saying so, Robert.’ 

Lisa smiled and glanced at Anne, who hadn’t said a word, though her eyes glistened brightly, softly. There was a depth of sadness in them that made Lisa feel as though she was invading her privacy to look at her too long. She busied herself with the task at hand. Once Robert had paid and signed her book, Lisa looked up cheerfully.

‘Allow me to show you to your room. Please, watch your step. The stairs have become rather uneven after so many years. It can put one a little off balance. Hold onto the railing, if you like.’

Robert led Anne, placing his hand gently on her elbow, as she ascended first behind Lisa. The way they carried themselves around each other, moved gently and respectfully with care and attention, reminded Lisa of another couple, but who? A smile spread across her face—they reminded her of Goose and Gander!

‘Here we are. Mind your head on the doorway. It’s much lower than we’re used to.’

Lisa automatically included this warning after seeing one too many people knock their heads, but then reddened slightly when she saw that Robert and Anne’s stature didn’t require it. They easily passed under the doorway and stepped inside the Bluebird room. 

It was a delightful nook of the house, dressed in shades of blue and white and cream. Lisa’s taste was just right. There was a double bed topped with a thick doona and quilt overlay inviting delicious sleep, a wooden chaise longue that Garth had found on the side of the road, then sanded back and painted white and carried upstairs to sit opposite the foot of the bed for guests’ luggage, two small bedside tables with lamps shaded in cornflower blue and bud vases of lavender sprays jauntily peering out of them, and a small wardrobe hidden behind a curtain of blue gingham fabric. Lisa had accessorised discreetly with a botanical illustration of violets and lilacs, a photograph of the pond that one of the children had taken and she’d had framed in white wood, and a quote in flowery type that read, ‘If all else fails, hug your teddy.’ Lisa liked this room very much.

Then, Anne spoke for the first time.

‘Delightful. This is indeed most comfortable. Thank you, Lisa.’

At the sound of Anne’s voice, Lisa recalled the sweet tinkling of her wind chime, the one she’d hung on the old oak tree in the front garden. It was almost entrancing; she found herself gazing at Anne in wonderment.

Anne gave Lisa the briefest of smiles before turning away to face the worn old white dresser in the corner. She moved to it now and placed her pouch on top of it, then removed her hat and gloves. Her hat was very dark green and reminded Lisa of something Anne Shirley might wear, and the gloves were brown leather. Lisa was surprised at not having noticed before that she was wearing these. Observing the way Anne set down her hat and stuck the pin into it, then laid her gloves down to ensure they wouldn’t crease, Lisa felt distinctly as though she was spying on an intimate moment. She averted her eyes and voiced a thought that had just occurred to her. 

‘I’d like to invite you both to dinner this evening. We were just preparing the meal for our guests who’ve cancelled, so there’s plenty to go around. The meal would be on the house, of course.’

‘That is kind of you, but we’re eager to retire early this evening. Perhaps you could send up a light supper, however. That would be ample for us. And if you’re amenable, may we take a walk through the grounds in the last of the day’s light?’

‘Yes, yes of course. You’ll meet our jersey cow, Girlie, in the orchard, and see the ducks and chooks pottering around also. And don’t mind the sheep—they love chatting to company but are usually too shy to approach you. I’ll leave you to it.’

‘Thank you, Lisa.’ 

Anne’s eyes intrigued Lisa, compelling and so very strange. She hurried back down the stairs to share with Kailey the unexpected arrival of these mystery guests and prepare their supper.

***

Lisa set down the tray on the dresser from which Anne had considerately removed her things. She and Kailey had loaded it with thick slices of homemade bread, a pat of locally made butter, a hunk of aged cheddar, pickled vegetables from the garden and a bowl of shining cherries from the orchard. A white vase contained three of the peonies Lisa had cut earlier. Kailey followed with a smaller tray containing pieces of brown sugar shortbread she’d made that morning and two glasses of port. Lisa returned with a jug of water and two glasses and lighted the bedside lamps before turning off the central light and leaving the room.

From the window on the landing, she caught an intensely private moment between Robert and Anne in the orchard. Mid stroll between the rows of plum trees, Robert suddenly stopped walking. He took Anne’s arm out from under his own, brought her hand to his lips and held it there with a tenderness that stopped Lisa’s heart. She felt like weeping at the sight of them. Anne stroked Robert’s face with her other hand and looked deeply into his eyes, now lifting to face her, his great love. Lisa almost tumbled down the stairs as she scurried away, not wanting to be caught out having witnessed such a spontaneous, somehow mournful show of love, and embarrass her guests. Her body took her over, leading her to the telephone in her private study that was located off the hall. She phoned Garth and in a somewhat broken voice told him how much she missed him, and adored him and their life together.

Garth had had a tedious day of performing administrative tasks and the pleasant memory of spending the morning with their two children, who were both studying at university in Melbourne, had almost eroded. The surprise phone call from Lisa fortified him. He felt tears spike his eyes as he hung up the phone and took a moment to recover himself. Deep appreciation is what he felt, for hearing her enthusiastic ‘Yes!’ all those years ago when he’d struck up the courage to invite her for an evening out, and later, when he knew that this dear darling woman loved him too, and for thousands of other experiences they’d shared besides. He walked on to his hotel with a new vigour in his stride, counting his many blessings and feeling mightily glad to be returning home in the morning.

***

As the final light passed over the western hills, Lisa heard Robert and Anne return to the house, climb the stairs and shut the door to their room. They must have been exhausted after their journey; she didn’t hear a peep out of them for the remainder of the evening.

***

Lisa and Kailey sat down to dinner, reconciling themselves to devouring the feast before them: a platter of fresh garden salad of purple and green lettuce, thinly sliced radishes, snow peas, cucumbers, fresh oregano and parsley, and roasted Dutch carrots dressed in Lisa’s favourite slightly mustardy vinaigrette; courgette sliced lengthwise in quarters, seasoned and roasted, served with a rich sugo topped with parmesan; steamed hunks of earthy sweet potato sprinkled with cinnamon; and a baked potato with sour cream in a little pot on the side.

Lisa looked at Kailey, plating up their servings, with a smile. The young woman was a marvel. She’d arrived from California to take a working holiday around Australia a couple of years ago. From Kailey’s first day at Stanton, filling in for the ailing regular chef, she and Lisa had hit it off. She was slight in build, yet strong as an ox, and wiry and lean as a result of her regular jogs and bushwalks and swims in the lake. A local lad had fallen in love with her, and eventually convinced her to return from her travels and give things between them a go. The relationship had broken down, but Kailey had had a hard time leaving Stanton, and Lisa was more than happy to have her stay on when the position became available. Since then, she had become famous in town for her ricotta cheese, which she made under her own label and sold to the most revered restaurants in the state, and some on the mainland too. Lisa was proud of her, and flushed with thankfulness at the delicious bounty she had prepared, as always.

‘Thank you, Kailey. This smells scrumptious! Wine?’ 

Lisa had opened a bottle of pinot noir that her neighbour had delivered that morning in exchange for the fresh eggs and a batch of scones she’d given them the week before. She adored these country trades. They toasted to love and in whispered tones shared their theories about Robert and Anne as the couple slept soundly above. 

***

Shortly after the rooster began crowing the next morning, Lisa, clad in a red Japanese kimono, matching slippers and pale pink cotton headscarf, entered the hall to unlock the front door and turn on the lights over the stairs, on the veranda, and outside, the one that lit a path to the gate. Robert hadn’t specified what time they’d be leaving, but she wanted them to have as smooth a pathway out as possible should it still be dark when they left. She then pottered into the kitchen and put the kettle on.

Lisa was filling her pot of tea when she heard the front door click shut, then a few moments later, the chain of the front gate unlatching then latching again. The rooster was still crowing and the first light only just climbing up and over the east. Lisa chose a cup from her treasured collection, one depicting a yellow rose with bright green leaves, and carried it on its saucer to the table with the pot. She brought over a little jug of milk, setting that down on the table, too. She paused as she recognised a strong feeling of missing Robert and Anne. She sent up a prayer of well wishes for their onward journey and sat down, ready to savour the warmth and flavour of her Irish breakfast tea, and anticipate the coming events of the day. Garth would be home from Melbourne. She’d leave in a few hours to collect him from the airport. The thought of it brought a smile to her heart.

***

Several weeks later, Lisa was elbow deep in a task she’d been putting off for ages—finally sorting through the accumulated clutter and stacks of old newspapers in the shed that she had been avoiding. As autumn was closing in, it would soon be time for lighting fires in the drawing room, dining room and bedrooms each night. At least the discarded papers would serve a purpose.

Shed clearing is not the sort of job to be taken on alone. Lisa had invited along her friend Mabel, a member of the local historical society. While the main motivation for asking Mabel to join her was the woman’s effervescent company, one never knew when one might stumble upon something noteworthy for the town archives.

After a couple of hours working in the musty shed, Lisa was about to suggest they take a break for a breath of fresh air and a cup of tea. Then she saw it. Astonished, she stopped—time stopped around her. An image looked up at her from underneath a newspaper she’d shifted to the Burn pile. It was a photograph—a photograph of Robert and Anne. The column of text that ran alongside it read thus:

Today the sad story of Robert and Anne Ebenezer Simond concluded when both were found dead at their homestead, Stanton, on Back River Road. Readers may recall that the couple, shortly after their arrival in the district from Queenstown, New Zealand, bore a son who would later tragically drown in the pond on the property. The cause of death has yet to be determined. An inquest will be held next week on Wednesday.

Lisa’s eye desperately scanned the clipping for a date and found it overleaf: January 24, 1898. Mabel made it to her just in time to catch her, and shouted for Garth to come quickly.