Page 85 of The Pearl Sister
‘Do. It must be strange for you, having Drummond to stay. So like your husband, but so much . . .more’ Mrs Jefford had blushed like a young girl. ‘Goodnight, my dear.’
It had been raining incessantly, but even so, Drummond had found ways to entertain Charlie and Cat. They played hide and seek inside the house, which rang with shrieks of excitement as the three of them tore around it. A miniature cricket pitch was set up along the entrance hall – Drummond professing horror that Andrew was yet to teach his son the basic rules of the game. Fred had been commandeered to whittle some stumps and a bat, and had, as Drummond said, done ‘a bloody good job’.
As the rain continued to beat down, the front door became pockmarked with the ball Drummond had bought as a present for Charlie from the general store, and Cat was corralled into being wicket keeper or fielder, with Kitty keeping count of the runs and overs. By the end of the session, despite Kitty’s careful scoring, Drummond always declared it a draw.
‘House happy when he around,’ Camira announced one afternoon as she herded the overexcited children into the kitchen for tea. ‘When he leave, Missus Kitty?’
‘I have absolutely no idea,’ she replied truthfully, not knowing whether she wished him to or not.
* * *
‘When the rains stop, I suppose,’ said Drummond after Kitty asked him over supper the following evening.
‘That could be weeks,’ Kitty responded, toying with the overcooked chicken on her plate. Tarik could still not judge how long to roast a bird.
‘Is that a problem for you? If I am unwelcome here, I will go.’
‘No. It’s not that . . .’
‘Then what is it?’ Drummond eyed her.
‘Nothing. Perhaps I’m just tired tonight.’
‘Perhaps you find my presence uncomfortable. I’ve never seen you so tense. There was me, believing I was doing so well to behave in front of all your friends and doing my best to amuse Charlie and Cat – what an adorable child she is. Going to grow up to be a beauty too. Never mind my helping Fred keep the path free of sludge and—’
‘Stop!Please, just stop.’ Kitty put her head into her hands. ‘God’s oath, Kat, what is it I’ve done?’ Drummond looked at her, genuinely shocked at her distress. ‘Please tell me and I’ll try to rectify it. I’ve even laid off the grog because I know you don’t like it. I—’
‘Don’t you understand?!’
‘What?’
‘I don’t know why you’re here, or what you want! Whatever it is, I’m simply . . . exhausted!’
‘I see,’ he sighed. ‘Forgive me. I had no idea that my presence here was upsetting you so much. I’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.’
‘Drummond.’ Kitty put her hand to her brow. ‘I did not ask you to leave tomorrow, I asked you when youwouldbe leaving. Why does everything with you have to be a drama? Do you go to your bed at night thinking how you fooled everyone? Or is this the real you and the other Drummond a pretence? Or perhaps it’s nothing to do with any of us here, and even though you protest it isn’t, it’s because you can never change the fact that you were born two hours later than your brother and he has everything you want!’
‘Enough!’ Drummond slammed his fist on the table, starting a cacophony of china, glass and cutlery tinkling in a surreal impression of an orchestra.
‘Well? Which is it? What is the real reason you are here?’ Kitty asked him again.
He was silent for a long time before he looked up at her. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’
‘Not to me, no.’
Drummond stood up and left the room, slamming the door behind him. She wondered if he’d gone to pack and would leave immediately. It was just the kind of dramatic gesture he was inclined to.
Within a few seconds, he was back, not with his luggage, but with a decanter.
‘I brought a glass for you, but I’m presuming you don’t want it.’
‘No, thank you. It is at least one lesson I can thank you for teaching me.’
‘There are no others?’
‘Not that I can think of presently. Although I have learnt to score at cricket, even if you always fix the result.’
He smiled at that and took a sip of brandy. ‘Then at least I have achieved something. You are right, of course.’
