Page 17 of Birds of a Feather

‘A lot of people think botany is all about pretty flowers and assume that’s why I’m drawn to it,’ Miss Burnsby said.

‘But I have always been fascinated by the natural world and dreamed of studying somewhere abroad where I could meet new people and explore new places.

‘Western Australia is a treasure trove of native plants, and I am delighted to be studying somewhere where I’m surrounded by such rich biota, including countless species that are yet to be described.’

While Miss Burnsby said her number one priority since arriving had been settling into her studies, the local gents are hopeful it won’t be all work and no play for this English rose.

I closed the article and rolled my eyes. It shouldn’t have surprised me this was the way women were reported on in the 1950s, even intelligent, highly educated ones. English rose, indeed. The next article in the search result was titled ‘“Elizabeth Gould: watching from the wings” by Gerry Burnsby’. I clicked on the link, and it opened on an image that featured an illustration I had seen a million times before. Two resplendent adult Gouldian finches together with a little brown juvenile sheltering behind its mother’s wing – the same painting that hung in my Gran’s hallway.

Gerry’s by-line and the article title sat above a blurb that read:

‘Bird Man’ John Gould is credited for highlighting the beauty and uniqueness of Australia’s animals through his magnificent and comprehensive works. His wife, Elizabeth Gould – talented artist, naturalist and mother – played a pivotal but often overlooked role in his success.

The painting cemented it for me. This had to be the same Gerry.

I closed the document and continued down the list of search results, looking for more evidence it was the same person, not that I needed it. I clicked on a link for ‘Branch’ – a networking platform for the scientific community. Gerry’s photo was the same as the one on the University of New London’s website, and her bio contained most of the same details. But this page had a ‘message’ function. I could contact her directly right now if I wanted to.

I snapped the lid of my laptop shut. I needed to speak to Gran before I did anything else. I didn’t want to invade her privacy any more than I already had, no matter how intrigued I was. I needed to tell her that I’d found Gerry. Then, if she was open to it, I could help her reach out.

Chapter 12

Beth

‘Hello, pet,’ Gran said warmly as she opened the front door.

I had messaged her during the day to tell her I would be dropping past after I’d finished work and run some errands. I probably should have just left work early again; I had been distracted the entire day with thoughts of Gran and Gerry, and how Gran would react to the news I had found out about their relationship and discovered a way to connect them. But, over the course of the day, my sense of hesitation had evolved into full-scale anxiety, so I was happy to defer telling her for a couple of hours.

I dipped into her open arms for a hug.

‘How was your day?’ I asked as I nodded to Herrick en route to the kitchen. I noticed Gran had draped some beads across his antlers since I was last at her house.

Gran removed two beers from the fridge and handed one to me. My grandparents had drunk a beer at seven o’clock every single night they were at home. The crack of the ring pull, the hiss of the air escaping the can and the slurp as they captured the froth that escaped from the top was usually set against the trumpet fanfare that heralded the beginning of ABC News.

I found myself deliberately avoiding her eye contact as Gran chatted away about the cuttings of Geraldton wax she’d helped herself to from a house down the road.

‘Are you okay, darling?’ she asked. ‘You seem a million miles away. And it’s not like you to fidget.’

She gestured to the ring pull of the can that I had twisted and bent until it snapped into four satisfyingly even segments.

‘Sorry,’ I replied, trying to refocus on what she was saying while collecting the metal pieces into a pile. ‘Go on. What were you saying?’

‘Never mind, it was nothing. I was just chatting. Tell me, what’s going on with you? You seem a bit …’

As she searched my face for clues to help inform the next word of her sentence, my stomach lurched. I knew I had to tell her now, or I would completely lose my nerve.

‘It’s just … well …’ I took a deep breath to steady myself. ‘I have a bit of news, actually.’

She sat forward in her chair and nodded her head as if to encourage me to go on.

‘Do you remember at lunch the other week, when Jarrah was talking about star signs, and she gave me a hard time about not believing in fate or …’ I wiggled my fingers to convey the frivolity of the whole conversation, ‘leaving anything to the universe?’

‘Yes, darling. Although sometimes it’s hard to keep up with all the things you two disagree about,’ she said.

Usually I would prickle at this, but I had bigger fish to fry.

‘Well,’ I continued, ‘do you remember we stopped at the shops on the way home so you could fill your prescription?’

‘Yes, darling,’ she said guardedly, her eyes narrowing.

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