Tabbie saw the downcast look and took a chance. "Do you think you might have a hug in that big heart of yours for an old woman, Casey?"
Casey smiled and wrapped Tabbie in a huge hug. "You’re the only one I think I have ever hugged," Casey confided.
"Then I will take good care of it, sweetheart," Tabbie confessed.
Casey turned for the door, unlocked the latch and turned back to Tabbie. "Tomorrow?" she pleaded.
"Of course!" Tabbie replied and blew her a kiss. "You can come whenever you want, my love. I’ll be here for you and we can have some more story, too."
Casey waved a farewell wave as she joined Palmer and started down the corridor.
"Casey!" Tabbie called after her.
"Yes?!"
"You are loved and cherished. Firstly, by your Heavenly Father and by me, too."
Casey's smile lit up her face, but a battle for Casey's soul was raging.
"Father, take care of your wounded daughter," Tabbie mouthed.
Aunt Tabbie had seen the tug of war in Casey's eyes when she’d come to her decision not to talk about her past. Like most troubled people, there is a mountain of hurt and abuse. And trust is an overwhelming issue.
It’s only Father's genuine, unselfish love that breaks through.
Gazing across the empty room and down into the garden, a small voice suddenly whispered lovingly into Tabbie’s heart, It’s time!
*~*~*~*
The telephone rang in the earpiece until it clicked and a woman answered. "Hello."
"Hi, it's me."
"Tabbie, how are you doing, dear one?"
"I am afraid my days are numbered and it looks like Father is calling me back home. Would I be able to ask something of you?"
"Of course you can. You know that!"
Tabbie felt her hands tremble as she placed the phone back down on the cradle. She was tired out from the day and laid back against her wheelchair and waited for the nurses to come and help her into her bed. As she waited, she picked up her old Bible and opened the cover. Finding her pen and just under, To my beloved Father, Sergeant Major Pell (Bluey) Burns. All my love, Tabbie she wrote, To Casey… my beloved daughter... all my love, Mum. I will be waiting for you!
She shut the cherished book and rested her hand on it, then closing her eyes she prayed, "In Your hands now, Father. Amen."
Tabbie smiled tiredly, remembering Bluey and Hannah.
"I'll be home soon, Mum and Dad."
*~*~*~*
Tabbie's pain ebbed and flowed in great waves throughout the night and the nurses contemplated calling Doctor Bruce. The visions of Gwendolyn came thick and fast, and by the time morning arrived, Tabbie was exhausted from the battle.
Matron took one look at Tabbie and announced her intention to cancel her visits for the day.
"No!" Tabbie responded. "This is important; I’ll be fine."
"Tabbie, you’re not well, my love, and you need to rest," Matron insisted.
"There’ll be time enough for rest soon; for the moment, Father's work is not finished. If I don't look well by breakfast and you’re still concerned, then you may cancel with my blessing. Agreed?"
Matron eyed Tabbie with suspicion, wondering how she could possibly appear any different in a matter of half an hour. "Agreed," Matron finally conceded.
The room emptied at Tabbie's request and she began to pray.
"Father, please give me the health and strength I need to bring Gwendolyn in to meet Casey. If this is merely my idea, then let my health be unchanged. If, however, it is Your idea, then give me the strength and health needed to appease Matron."
The nurses returned to take Tabbie to breakfast and did a double take at the door, considering the woman before them. Tabbie had a faint glow around her and when she smiled, their hearts burned within them.
"Wow, you’re beautiful, Aunt Tabbie."
"Shall we go to breakfast, my dears?" Tabbie almost sang.
Matron couldn't believe, or explain, what she was seeing and eyed Tabbie. "H... how?" Matron stammered.
"When Father gives a servant a job to do, He also gives all that is required to do the job," Tabbie beamed.
*~*~*~*
Chapter 13
Tabbie was waiting for Casey to arrive with an air of expectancy. Gwendolyn was always a difficult part of the story to tell and she never went there, unless she was sure Father was leading her to. Through the big lounge room window, she watched the antics of two little honey eaters chasing each other around the garden, stopping frequently at delicious open flowers and sipping on nectar.
Mr Tich's face appeared at the window on the outside and waved in at Tabbie. Recognising the wiry old gardener's features, Tabbie waved enthusiastically back at him and mouthed, "How are you?"
He held up his thumb and nodded, then waved as Matron chased him back to his work. Tabbie giggled and watched Matron shaking her finger at the man; and then laughed out loud when she turned to go and Mr Tich saluted her.
Her laughter was interrupted by the sound of shoes clip-clopping down the corridor, almost running. The glass door slammed to the lounge room and the lock closed, with a definite clunk. Before she could focus on the person, she found herself enfolded in a huge hug.
"Casey, my love!"
"Aunt Tabbie!" Casey replied, holding her for a long moment, then stepped back and twirled for Tabbie. "Do you like my outfit?" Casey wore a long grey skirt and a white blouse.
"My, my... what a beautiful young woman you are." Tabbie noticed that the piercings were gone also and peered at Casey for a moment.
Casey put her hand to her face. "I thought you might like to see what I look like without the face jewellery."
"Darling, you’re so beautiful. You don't need those things," Tabbie chided.
Casey's face lit up, basking in Tabbie's love. "Then I won't wear them if you don't like them."
Casey flopped down on the lounge and excitedly asked Tabbie about the next part of the story. Tabbie watched the policeman arrive and find a seat on the outside of the locked glass door. He held up his book and pointed to the seat, then shrugged and grinned. Tabbie waved and smiled back, understanding his intentions.
*~*~*~*
Palmer couldn’t believe the dramatic changes in Casey and her behaviour, knowing it had been noticed at Greyton, too. She was responding to the love of a woman who had unselfishly adopted the hurting girl into her heart.
Tabbie's love wasn't easy to resist, especially when you’d had fourteen years of nothing but anger, rejection and abuse.
*~*~*~*
Tabbie stared at the ceiling for a long time as if talking to someone, then finally settling her unseen conversation she began. "Well, darling, things were going along really fine for Hannah and Bluey. One day they received a call from the Juvenile Corrections Department, asking if they would consider taking on a particularly difficult case. They had a meeting with the case worker where Hannah and Bluey were told of Gwendolyn's plight and if they didn't take her, she was destined for Cranbourne. After much prayer and family discussion, it was decided to see how she would fit into the family and Gwendolyn moved in. She was thirteen."
Casey interjected, "She was almost a year younger than me."
"Is that right?" Tabbie offered. "Although not a lot is known about Gwendolyn's early childhood and some of the details are a bit hazy, the family managed to piece together a bit of a jigsaw puzzle, with some of the bigger pieces forever missing. What follows is as close to what we could reveal, using the pieces we had."
Casey's face took on a confused, pensive expression and a question formed on her lips. She was just about to interrupt Tabbie again, but then thought better of it.
Tabbie waited for Casey to decide and then continued, when she shook her head. "Now the story goes back to 1953, just before Gwendolyn was born..."
*~*~*~*
"Delaney, get down here now!"
The footsteps of the fourteen year old echoed on the wooden staircase. She knew from experie
nce that you didn't keep the hard faced man waiting, especially when he had a grievance.
"Yes, Father?" she nervously asked.
"Mrs Jessop said she saw you and a boy walking, holding hands, in the back alley yesterday."
"Father, Mrs Jessop is a busybody and a gossip. She delights in peering over her fence and getting me into trouble for nothing."
Delaney's head snapped around as the man's hand connected with the side of her face and tears stung her wounded eye. With her brown hair tangled around her aching head, Delaney held her face and peered into the man's imposing glare.
"Don't you be so disrespectful, you young hussy. Why can't you be like your older sister, Amy?"
Delaney had heard this a thousand times before, usually at the hands of a beating. She struggled to contain her anger but lost control and erupted. "Amy, if you remember, left home pregnant and you didn't beat her!" Delaney shouted with all the pent up fury bottled inside her.
Delaney ducked another blow and ran for the back door.
"God will judge you, you little tramp; and I will be waiting when you get back home!" the hard faced man called after her.
Delaney ran down the dark lane, tears escaping her wounded face, heading for the only softness she had ever known and the place where life made some kind of sense. She pushed the back gate open to the weatherboard home and ran down to the house, leaving the gate wide open and as she approached, she could see the light on in Jimmy's room and his soothing figure silhouetted against the window.
"Jimmy!" she whispered.
The window opened and Jimmy knew straight away, from the hand mark across Delaney's face, that her father was at it again. "Delaney?!"
"Jimmy, I need a place to stay tonight. Tomorrow, I’m running away," Delaney pleaded.
Jimmy slid his window open and Delaney climbed into his room.
"If you’re caught here, Delaney, my dad will call your dad and we will both get a beating!" Jimmy chided worriedly.
She eyed the fifteen year old with concern. "I can't go back, Jimmy. He’ll kill me."
"Get under my bed and stay there until the lights go out," he ordered.
Delaney waited for the room to become dark and the house to quieten. Then she climbed out from under his bed and climbed in next to him.
"Hold me, Jimmy. I am frightened."
*~*~*~*
A rooster crowed in the pre-dawn light and woke Jimmy. "Delaney, wake up. You've gotta leave before we’re caught."
Delaney took a moment to recognise where she was and then an idea crossed her mind. "Why don't you run away with me?" Delaney begged, more out of hope than practicality.
"I..I..can't, Delaney. My dad will hunt us both down and then hand you back to your dad."
Delaney realised the boy she’d fallen in love with was just another jellyfish, only out to take what he could get and offering her nothing back. Her disdained filled eyes locked onto Jimmy's for a long moment and her face took on a disgusted expression of repugnance, aimed directly at the cowardly boy, then with a last disappointed flash of scorn she pushed the window open and disappeared into the early dawn.
*~*~*~*
Aunt Tabbie peered across at Casey and a worried knot formed in her stomach.
"Why are you telling me this?!" the young girl huffed, appearing angry and darkly confused, with her arms folded across her chest.
"My darling, there is a reason and if you bear with me, I promise you will understand. Trust me!" she pleaded.
Casey lightened at Aunt Tabbie's fervent request to trust her.
Tabbie knew she was walking on dangerous ground with Casey and Father would have to do a work in Casey's heart to bring her through. If she recognised the wisdom in the story and applied it to her life, Casey would bloom like a rose.
If not, she would crash and burn.
*~*~*~*
Chapter 14
Casey's demeanour spoke of a brewing storm and Tabbie suddenly became uneasy with telling Casey anymore about Gwendolyn, until a small voice in Tabbie's heart encouraged her to continue. "Do you want me to quit the story, Casey?"
Casey tussled with Tabbie's words and her exhortation to trust her. She swallowed back her fear and tried to smile. "If you say there is a purpose to this part of the story, Aunt Tabbie, I..I trust you!"
Realising the huge step Casey had just taken, Tabbie opened her arms to Casey and she fell into Tabbie's hug. "I wouldn't deliberately hurt you, precious one," Tabbie comforted, whispering and stroking the girl's soft hair. "If you want me to stop the story, just say, 'I've had enough,' okay?"
Casey nodded her agreement and revelled in the warmth and security of Tabbie's promise, then dropped to the floor next to Tabbie's chair as Tabbie picked up the story again...
*~*~*~*
Delaney walked the back roads, hoping not to be discovered. She seethed with anger against Jimmy for letting her down when she most needed him and then turned her anger against her father, for beating her and forcing her out of her home. She’d walked about fifteen miles and her feet were sore, when she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. Delaney decided to hide in the bush and just let the vehicle go and then suddenly thought she may be able to hitch a ride out of the district and be rid of her nightmare. The vehicle, a large truck, slowed and then pulled up alongside Delaney.
"Where ya going, missy?" the driver enquired.
"Sydney," she replied.
"Hop up. You're in luck."
Delaney felt uncomfortable in the truck, as the overweight driver coaxed the old vehicle along the back roads.
"You're a might young to be out on your own," he said, making conversation.
"I'm eighteen!" she lied.
By the time they’d been travelling along for a couple of hours, the terrain became more isolated. Beginning to feel tired and hypnotised by the engine’s monotonous tone, Delaney eventually drifted off to sleep. She awoke to the sounds of air brakes hissing when the truck came to an abrupt stop on a deserted road.
"How about giving old Hank a bit of a cuddle."
Delaney fought off Hank’s advances and gave him a black eye into the mix and then jumped down from the truck. He quickly pulled the truck door closed and drove off, leaving her in the middle of nowhere. Things were going from bad to worse for Delaney and now she felt dirty and violated, even though the truckie hadn't had a chance to 'cuddle' her. Delaney struggled down the deserted road and finally collapsed, exhausted, in the darkness.
By the time morning came, she was hungry and tired of walking but then a car flew past, braked abruptly and reversed up.
"What on Earth are you doing out here, girlie?!" a woman's voice chided.
Delaney felt a degree of comfort and camaraderie at the woman's voice. "I need to get to Sydney; can you help me?" she begged, exhausted.
"A runaway, hey?" the woman guessed. "Get in; I'll get you there."
By the time the city lights came into view, Delaney had been asleep for hours. A sudden jolt woke her and gazing around, she soaked in the big city lights.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," the woman greeted. "How old are you?"
"Eighteen," Delaney lied again.
"Yeah, right. If you're eighteen, then I'm the Flying Nun." But the woman thought for a moment. "Can you dance?"
"No," Delaney replied.
"I need some new dancers for my club. If you can learn to dance and pull off this 'eighteen' business, I might just be able to offer you some work."
Delaney grinned. Suddenly things were starting to look up. "I can try."
"Well, that's a start. My name is Karla," she offered.
"I’m Delaney."
Delaney took to dancing like a duck to water and soon found she had a natural gift. She was doing well until about six weeks later, she woke up feeling nauseous and vomited. By mid morning, it’d cleared and she began to feel alright again.
Karla caught her vomiting one morning. "Delaney, what have you been up to? If you’re pregn
ant, girl…!" Karla pitched angrily.
"I can't be! I haven't been with anyone." Then she remembered...
Jimmy.
Her past wasn't going to let go of her that easily. One foolish night, looking for love and comfort in the arms of desperation.
Karla sighed intensely and paced around the room, weighing up the situation and coming to an immediate decision. The authorities would most likely close her down and throw her in jail for employing a pregnant minor to work as a dancer in her club and so she had to get rid of the evidence quickly, clearing herself of any wrongdoing. She handed the stunned minor a roll of notes and instructed her to disappear.
"But where will I go, Karla?"
"I don't know, Delaney, but you’d better get moving… fast."
Delaney began to beg Karla, but she cut her off and yelled for the bouncer.
"Vorche, get her out of here... Now!"
*~*~*~*
The streets of King's Cross, Sydney, a red light district, offered little protection for a pregnant fourteen year old girl with no means of support. Delaney began to hang out with the wrong end of town and had to steal to survive, but she wouldn't degrade to prostitution or drugs. The nights were violent and cold in the depths of winter and on a number of occasions, she had to fight with her fists to ward off would-be attackers and lived a solitary life in an abandoned building with other itinerants. The only thing that kept her going was the ever increasing size of her stomach and the company of the new life she was carrying; but her father's words kept haunting her.
God will judge you, you little tramp.
It certainly seemed that God was judging her.
As the cold night air stirred the dust in the basement of the abandoned building, Delaney felt a gripping stab run through her stomach. She cried out, as the pain hit her again and again but managed to crawl outside, finding a private spot to be alone.
*~*~*~*
The city mayor had organised a police raid for that morning, to clear the building of the homeless people and to allow the demolition work to begin. As they rounded up countless itinerants they came across a young girl, slumped against a dirty wall and there was blood all around her. An officer checked her vital signs, but she was dead. He followed the blood trail over to a nearby rubbish bin and uncovered a new born baby, wrapped in newspaper and lying on top of the trash; and as the officer picked up the child, it cried a pitiful bawl, hungry and cold.