Free Beneath the Southern Cross by Judy Nunn Page A

she replied, fighting to recover her dignity. ‘He has important work at hand. Meetings with people of standing in the community, people of influence. You can no longer click your fingers and expect—’
    â€˜He is to have a meeting with his father tomorrow. At noon. Tell him that if he does not come,’ Mary was about to interrupt, ‘he will be disinherited, and so will his children. Now get out of my house.’
    â€˜You cannot possibly be serious, Father.’
    It was twelve-thirty in the afternoon and Richard stood in Thomas’s front parlour on the very same rug upon which his wife had stood yesterday as she hurled her venom. Mary’s instructions, however, had disappeared from Richard’s mind. He was to have threatened the old man with the denial of his grandchildren’s company unless he conformed to society’s dictates; it had seemed relatively simple.
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    â€˜You cannot be serious,’ he repeated.
    â€˜I am in deadly earnest, Richard. My friend Wolawara and his family are to have the lands adjoining yours by the Parramatta River.’ Richard was silent, shaking his head in disbelief as he staredback at his father. ‘The land is useless for cultivation,’ Thomas continued, ‘which is why I did not include it in the property gifted to you on your marriage. I am sure Wolawara will be kind enough to grant you grazing rights for your domestic stock, should you wish it.’
    Thomas could have laughed out loud at the sight of his son. Goggle-eyed, slack-jawed, the usually dapper Richard Kendall looked utterly foolish. Thomas pretended bewilderment. ‘You appear worried, Richard.’ Then realisation. ‘Ah … of course, I understand. I shall extract a promise from Wolawara that none of his clansmen are to kill and eat any of your livestock.’
    â€˜You are simply going to hand over the Parramatta land to this Aborigine and his kin?’
    â€˜Yes, I simply am. For as long as he and his descendants wish to live upon it.’ Again Thomas pretended bewilderment. ‘Do you have some objection, my boy?’
    Thomas’s only regret about his planned course of action had been the alienation of his younger son. However, Mary’s threat had angered him so deeply that he now cared little for Richard’s reaction. And if he were to be denied his grandchildren, he would live long enough, he swore to himself, to see those children of an age when they had minds of their own. Then, by God, he’d teach them a thing or two about the bigotry and intolerance of their wretched exclusivist upbringing.
    â€˜But, Father, our new house, which we built just last year, is by the water. You’ve not yet seen it, I realise, but you know that we built it there specifically for the river views.’
    â€˜Yes, I believe it’s a grand home, quite a mansion I’ve heard.’
    So that was it, Richard thought. The old man was piqued that he’d not been invited to see the new house. Richard had told Mary at the time that they should ask Thomas to come and stay for a day or so, but she’d ignored the suggestion. Damn it, he should have insisted. Now, after the heat of yesterday’s row and Mary’s melodramatic threats, the old man had decided to make these perverse intimidations in order to teach them a lesson.
    â€˜I’m sorry, Father, it’s been very remiss of us not to have extended an invitation to you. You’re most welcome to visit us, as you know, at any time. Perhaps next weekend?’
    â€˜I’d be delighted, my boy. I shall look forward to seeing yournew home and spending sometime in the company of my grandchildren.’ Thomas took his hat from the brass hatstand which stood in the corner of the parlour. ‘Now, if that concludes our business, and if you won’t partake of the tea I offered earlier, I shall call on Wolawara and tell him the good news.’ He opened the door to the hall