|
"Laura's Dream" |
| Copyright Francis Blow, 1986. |
| CHAPTER 3 |
| "Where is he? Is he coming here?" Laura's throbbing feet were forgotten, as was her victory, when she heard the news. |
| "Calm down, baby. He's living in Dubbo, but he said he can't come to see us right now." |
| "Then I'll go to him!" Laura decided jubilantly. |
| "Oh, sweetheart, it's not that simple. He said... Here, read it and we'll talk about it after dinner, when Dad gets home." |
| Laura took the letter and read every word. His name was Gordon Flint, and he worked for a private investment company as a consultant. Mr. Flint had told the solicitors' agent that he did not recognise Laura as his daughter; he blamed Ms. Roman for not aborting Laura when she had the chance. Mr. Flint wanted nothing to do with Laura, ever. |
| The shock of reading that, on top of Laura's physical exhaustion, was too much for her. Laura's cheeks tingled, her head became light, the room tilted, and she found herself lying on the floor, with her head and shoulders supported on her mother's lap. |
| "I'm sorry baby. I shouldn't have let you see it like that." Carla said as she stroked Laura's face. Laura tried to sit up. "No, stay down until you're feeling better." |
| Laura was confused. Had she fainted? Then she remembered. Her father had disowned her! It had to be a terrible mistake. |
| "I'm okay now, Mum. Let me up." |
| Carla helped her, almost carrying Laura to a chair, then she opened Laura's bag. |
| "Are these your clothes? They're soaked! What happened?" |
| "Would you believe they threw us into a fountain when Jem and I won. Sorry." |
| "You kids." Carla shook her head and forced a laugh. "Would you like a cup of tea, or some milk?" |
| "Thanks, Mum, but I need to think for awhile." |
| "Let me take your shoes off. Did you get any blisters?" |
| "Oh, Mum, don't fuss so much." |
| Carla gasped at the state of Laura's feet, and hurried to get lotions and Band-Aids. Joey had appeared and joined them in the kitchen. Laura could not stop giggling when Joey began to tickle her feet. |
| "Joey, stop it!" She grabbed her brother and imprisoned him across her knees. |
| "Don't you like to be tickled?" He asked. |
| "Not that much. Would you like to be tickled all the time?" |
| "Yes." Came the solemn reply. |
| Laura smiled down at him. "You're impossible." |
| Both Laura and Carla laughed, but Joey scowled at them. |
| Laura was her cheerful self again, though she was tired. She decided to have a lie down. Another shower relaxed her even more, and the soft, cool sheets of her bed felt wonderful. As she lay, halfway between sleeping and waking, she made plans for meeting Gordon Flint. She more or less decided that the whole family would fly to Dubbo, meet her natural father, see the big zoo together, and then... Laura was not sure what would happen after that, but she knew everyone would be happy, and there would be no more doubts. |
| Her doze was interrupted by her mattress moving, and a gentle caress across her forehead. She opened her eyes and saw a smiling face that was at once strong and loving and sad. |
| "Hi, Daddy." |
| "Hi, yourself, sweetheart. You've certainly had a big day. Do you want to eat? Dinner's ready." |
| "Is it? I didn't mean to sleep so long. I'll get dressed and come down." |
| She grabbed her dressing gown and followed him to the dinner table. As they ate, Laura told the family of her plans, her enthusiasm bringing reluctant smiles from her parents. |
| "Princess," John interrupted her. "I can't go anywhere just yet. I'm really tied up with work, but now that we know where Mr. Flint lives, we can visit him at almost any other time. What about in a couple of months?" |
| "Two months! I can't wait that long, Dad. What if just Mum and I go?" |
| Carla touched Laura's arm. "Would you leave your father and little brother alone? That would hardly be fair. Who would cook, and drive Joey to school when it rains? Besides, eight weeks isn't such a long time." |
| Laura was surprised and hurt; all her plans and ideas were being ignored. How could they not realise how important it was for her to go? |
| "I'm going." She finally declared. "He's my father and you can't stop me." |
| "Wait a minute, Laura," Carla went on. "We're only saying that this is the wrong time, and Mr. Flint definitely said he doesn't want to see you. We should give him time to get used to the idea that you're alive." |
| "Suppose he moves, or something?" Laura said stubbornly. |
| "Then we'll find him again." John answered. "We simply can not go right this moment, and he refuses to come here. As for letting you go alone, the answer is no. It's much too dangerous, especially these days." |
| The argument went on, with Laura becoming angrier and more determined, until her parents had had enough, and sent her to her room. Laura stormed off and slammed her bedroom door. Her mind was made up by the time she threw herself on the bed. She would run away! |
| Out came her backpack, which she emptied of books. Laura would need a few things, but she would have to travel light. Luckily, Laura's years as a Guide had taught her how to pack. Toiletries and a change of underwear; a warm shirt, shorts and T-shirts, because she had no idea what the weather was like on the Western Plains. She packed her training shoes, since they were comfortable, along with a small towel and a cardigan. Laura thought about taking a dress, but decided against it. Finally, she threw in her wallet, and an atlas, to show her the names of the towns she would pass through on the way to Dubbo. |
| Her packing done, Laura put the backpack next to the window, took off her dressing gown and piled her books on the desk. There was a knock on the door, while Laura pulled an old night-dress over her head. |
| "It's only me," Carla said when she looked in. "I came to say good night. We're sorry about the argument, baby, but it's in your best interest to wait for a better time. We can talk about it some more tomorrow, when we've all had time to think about it. Good night, darling." |
| Laura climbed into bed, accepted Carla's kiss, then watched her go. Moments later, John tapped at the open door; after he too had kissed Laura and gone, Laura closed the bedroom door, and put a torch near her pillow. Minutes dragged into hours until the only sounds were those of the house-frame settling. Laura quietly pulled on jeans, a bra and sweatshirt, socks and shoes, then crept down the stairs and out into the street. She had to wait half an hour for the last bus to the railway station. Laura wondered if any of the other people on the bus would notice her. The driver seemed bored, a nurse was reading a thick paperback, and three men were looking out of the windows. She hoped that none of them would remember her. |
| Her main problem would be at the station, when she bought her ticket. |
| Thinking of the ticket reminded her that she needed money, so she got off the bus near an automatic teller machine in Gosford. Withdrawing three hundred and ten dollars left only a few dollars and cents in her account. Laura felt sure she had enough cash for the long journey that lay ahead. |
| The relatively short walk to the ticket office tired her legs, after the day's exertions. |
| "I'd like a single ticket to Dubbo, half fare, please." |
| "I'll ring and make sure there's a seat. The computer is down." The attendant dialed, and talked for what seemed like ages. He made notes and nodded into the phone. "What's your name, miss?" |
| "Jane Smith." |
| He prepared her ticket and hung up the phone, then took her fare. "Next train to Central in forty minutes from platform two, then you wait at the Country Terminal a couple of hours until the Dubbo train leaves." |
| "Thanks." |
| "You could wait at Strathfield, but I wouldn't really recommend it to anyone at this time of night." |
| His eyes seemed to bore into Laura and she felt a chill run up her spine. For the first time she wondered if she knew what she had let herself in for. |
