A Distant Journey Read online

  cigar.

  Sol returned to his story. ‘Finally, after their long trip, they reached the magic springs and the boy laughed as he paddled in the water.

  ‘“It’s warmer than a bath, Papa!” he said.

  ‘“These are healing waters, son. They will make you well and strong,” said his father.’

  Sol pulled out another painting of the valley with the magic pool. Water coursed down from the mountain peaks. Simple thatched huts nestled close to the hot springs, and Babs could see Indians painted in the foreground.

  ‘The man and his son stayed with Pablo in his village and Pablo’s wife served them mushy beans and baked hearts of agave on flat roasted breads cooked over the small fire outside the huts. Each day the three of them would return to the springs in the lingering light of the afternoon to soak their bodies in the healing waters.

  ‘Now, the man’s name was John Guthrie McCallum, and he thought that the only way his son would get better would be if he moved his family away from the damp and cold climate of San Francisco to start a new life where the weather was warmer and drier. So he purchased some land to build a home for himself.’ Sol paused and pulled out the final painting. It showed the same man, his wife, more children and more Indians in front of a simple adobe home surrounded by planted fruit trees. ‘He called the place Palm Springs,’ said Sol.

  ‘So that’s how the place started,’ said Babs.

  ‘Did the little boy get better?’ Joey asked.

  Sol paused and answered slowly. ‘Yes, the little boy was fine.’

  Babs and Sol exchanged a glance. Babs appreciated Sol telling Joey a white lie. Joey would have had nightmares for weeks if he’d realised that the boy had died.

  ‘Poor old John McCallum,’ said Sol. ‘Things didn’t go well for him at all. He and a friend devised a scheme to irrigate Palm Springs, and spent a lot of money trying to make the desert bloom, but he sold the land to the wrong people. Most of them were sick, so they couldn’t make a go of it and went back to the coast without paying for their land. As a result, old John almost went

  broke.’

  ‘Then why did Palm Springs keep growing?’ asked Babs.

  Deidre took up the story. ‘McCallum had several children, but it was his youngest, Pearl, who carried on his legacy. She married Austin McManus, who was a property developer, and she utilised her father’s land much more successfully,’ she said.

  ‘She built the Oasis Hotel in the twenties. You know, that’s the tower you can see on Palm Canyon Drive,’ said Sol. ‘All the movie stars used to stay in the rooms in that tower.’

  ‘Which movie stars?’ asked Babs.

  ‘Oh, Clark Gable, John Wayne, Loretta Young, even Shirley Temple,’ said Deidre, returning to her favourite subject. ‘Pearl also developed some estates, as well as establishing the tennis club.’

  ‘I wish I could see some of the famous stars,’ said Babs wistfully.

  ‘You will,’ Deidre assured her.

  ‘Mom, what do you think of my painting?’ Joey asked. Babs glanced at the canvas, which was now covered in bright splodges.

  ‘It’s marvellous, darling, well done.’ Babs hugged Joey. ‘Now say thank you to Sol for teaching you.’

  ‘Thank you, Sol,’ said Joey, smiling brightly.

  ‘Come back and paint any time, little man,’ said Sol.

  *

  Working all day and every day, Babs had eventually managed to design and make a dozen little outfits for babies and toddlers. One morning, after Joey left for school, she made her way into Palm Springs carrying her small suitcase of clothes carefully folded in tissue paper. Her money was now all but gone and she was feeling very anxious. What if no one wanted to buy her clothes? What would she do for money? How would she pay the rent? She tried to steady her nerves as she headed along North Palm Canyon Drive to the shop where she’d seen the expensive baby clothes. As soon as she walked in, she saw the same shop assistant she’d spoken to on the previous occasion and went over to greet her.

  ‘I don’t know if you remember me,’ said Babs nervously, ‘but I was talking with you a few weeks ago about children’s clothes.’

  The assistant peered at her. ‘Yes, I do. How can I help you now?’

  ‘You told me that your buyer Mrs Bourke might be interested in handmade clothes. I’ve spent the last few weeks designing and hand-making baby clothes and I was hoping that she would consider stocking them here.’

  The assistant pursed her lips. ‘I can’t guarantee that she will without an appointment.’

  Babs’s heart sank. ‘I see. I didn’t understand. I haven’t done this before,’ she said despondently. She felt completely out of her depth in this unknown commercial world. But then she thought of Joey, who was being so brave in this new place, and tried to pluck up some courage. She’d gone to a lot of trouble, and she knew her clothes were pretty and well made. She couldn’t just give up. Taking a deep breath, she took one of her designs out of her suitcase.

  ‘It would just take a moment.’

  The assistant studied the sample. ‘Wait a moment, I’ll go and have a talk with her. It can’t do any harm.’

  As the woman hurried away, Babs looked around

  the store. She had to admit that the clothes in the shop were beautiful. There were silk, lace and embroidered cocktail dresses, stylish capri pants, fashionable halter-neck tops, as well as the glitziest sandals she had ever seen. It was certainly a world away from the clothes stores in Portland. And the prices! She couldn’t believe that anyone in the world would be prepared to pay so much for a pair of shoes.

  ‘So you want to see me, do you?’ said a voice behind her.

  Babs turned around to be met by an elegantly dressed woman who she guessed was in her mid-fifties.

  ‘I’m Mrs Bourke, and I believe you have some items you want to show me. Please come to my office and I’ll take a look. I understand you’ve been quite persistent.’ She was brisk but not unfriendly.

  As soon as they arrived in Mrs Bourke’s wood-panelled office, Babs introduced herself and opened her suitcase. She began to lay out little girls’ dresses, boys’ shirts and baby clothes on the office desk.

  Silently Mrs Bourke picked up the clothes and examined them. Finally she said, ‘I take it that you made these yourself? I think that some are quite saleable.’

  Babs almost collapsed with relief.

  ‘I think I can take this,’ said Mrs Bourke, lifting up a daintily smocked baby’s dress. ‘And this little boy’s outfit with the yellow ducks is quite charming. Perhaps I’ll have this little frock in white as well. Now, I’ll need them in a variety of sizes. Do you think I could have them by next week? If the standard remains as good as this, we have a deal.’

  On a piece of paper, Mrs Bourke wrote down the sizes and quantities of the clothes she wanted Babs to make and the price she would pay, so that there would be no mistakes. Babs’s elation was tempered only slightly by the fact that not all her handmade clothes were wanted, but when she saw the price Mrs Bourke was offering, she felt her face flushing with outrage. It was a pittance in comparison with what the store would charge for them. Nevertheless, Babs thought she had no choice other than to agree. She needed the money. And she figured she had to start somewhere, so she nodded and thanked Mrs Bourke for her time, promising to get the order to the shop by the end of the following week, although she wondered how she would ever be able to accomplish it.

  ‘By the way,’ said Mrs Bourke, ‘what age range do your designs intend to cover?’

  ‘From newborn up until six or seven,’ replied Babs. She didn’t want to limit herself just to baby clothes.

  ‘And what is the name of your label, or shall I put my store name on them?’

  Babs was about to say that she didn’t have a design label, but suddenly an idea popped into her head.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn
’t have time to do the labels. It’s “Heaven to Seven”, Mrs Bourke. I’ll have my labels on the clothes when I bring them in next week.’

  After she left the shop, she felt her knees go weak. She sat down on a nearby bench and took a deep breath. She’d done it. She’d made a sale. She and Joey would be able to stay in Palm Desert. Gathering her things, she smiled to herself as she walked down the street, but as she swung the suitcase, she realised that her bag was still full of unwanted samples. Maybe she should show them to other stores? But which ones? Over the road she saw the tower of the El Mirador Hotel. They must have a shop in there, she thought, as she hurried across to the spacious porte-cochère. From the luxurious foyer she looked out at lawns and cabanas as she made her way across to the hotel shop. She could see right away that it would be unlikely to sell baby clothes, but now that she was here, she thought there was no harm in asking. Fortunately, the young man behind the counter turned out to be a mine of information.

  ‘You’re right. We don’t sell baby clothes. This is more gifts for the ladies,’ he said. ‘Flowers, chocolates and jewellery, that sort of thing, but you could try I. Magnin. And if you keep going in that direction,’ he pointed, ‘you’ll come to a store that sells nothing but kids’ clothes. I bet you could do well in there.’

  Babs thanked him for his suggestions and said, ‘It must be great working here. I bet you see lots of film stars all the time.’

  ‘Sure do.’ Suddenly the young man lowered his voice and in a conspiratorial tone said, ‘Say, if you want to see some now, just wander out to the pool. No one will stop you, and if they do, just say you’re a friend of Mac’s. That’s me.’

  Thanking him, Babs quietly made her way towards the hotel pool. She walked outside and there, sitting on sun lounges, were Tony Curtis and his wife, Janet Leigh, talking to Robert Wagner and Natalie Wood. She tried not to stare, but she found it almost impossible to believe that she was so close to some of her favourite film stars. Babs retreated into the hotel lobby before anyone asked any awkward questions, and headed out into the sun again.

  Taking the young man’s advice, she found the store which specialised in baby clothes and they were pleased to give her an order, although what they were willing to pay her was only marginally better than Mrs Bourke’s offer. The saleslady at I. Magnin was enthusiastic about her clothes, but said they’d want them exclusively and that their buyer was in Los Angeles. Still, on the whole, Babs felt pleased with the way things had gone. She felt that she had a toe in the water and was sure that if she could

  maintain a supply of clothes to these stores, things

  could only get better. At least she’d be able to pay the rent,

  and maybe even save enough to buy a television set. Things were finally looking up.

  *

  That night, after she’d tucked Joey into bed, Babs gazed at the view from her bedroom window. For the first time in a long time, she felt positive about her future. It had been a hard road. Unbidden, memories of the past she’d fought to escape washed over her. Howard’s face flashed into her mind and she shivered. She went to the front door and checked it was locked. Satisfied, she returned to her bedroom. She hoped she would never have to see Howard again. She sighed as she lay down on her bed and gazed out at the darkened sky. She’d been so young, so naïve, when she’d met Howard. He was older than her and had seemed so dashing. He’d impressed her with his stories about the war, where he’d won a Purple Heart. He had seemed so sophisticated compared to her high school friends. He’d pursued her and Babs had been smitten by him. One evening, in the back of his roomy old Buick, Howard had persuaded her to make love. It was painful and rough and, when it was finally all over, Babs had felt confused, disillusioned and frightened. Not long afterwards, she had discovered she was pregnant. Howard was reluctant to get married, but her father insisted. The wedding had been simple and rushed. The trousseau, beautiful wedding gown and blissful entry into marriage that Babs had always dreamed about hadn’t eventuated. Her father had been tight-lipped, sad and stoic, and Babs had felt ashamed that she’d let him down.

  At first the marriage had worked just fine, but gradu­ally their relationship deteriorated and rows became commonplace. Then one night Howard had hit her. Babs was shocked and horrified. Howard apologised and promised it would never happen again. Babs forgave him, and for the sake of their marriage and Joey, she vowed to try harder. But it had happened again and again. Her efforts to tiptoe around him, trying to please him, only seemed to make him more furious. On and on went the cycle of blows, tears and apologies. Babs had felt desperate and trapped. She’d tried to speak to her father about her situation, but he’d just told her to stop making Howard angry and urged her to stay with her husband for the sake of their child. His lack of empathy had made Babs wish, not for the first time, that her beautiful mother had not died when she was a child, so that she was still around to help her find a solution. Her sisters had not been a lot of help either. Deborah, the sibling with whom she’d had the closest relationship, had moved to Spokane, in Washington, nearly four hundred miles away, and Alice was too bound up in her own life to be of much use. When Babs had tried to bring it up, neither of them quite understood what was happening, and Babs just hadn’t been able to bring herself to explain in detail. She felt too ashamed about her disastrous marriage to really tell them what was going on. When her father had died suddenly of a heart attack, Babs had been devastated. She had always felt that, if things between herself and Howard became too bad, her father would be there as a refuge and now even that safe haven had been taken from her.

  Then one day, in a rage, Howard had slapped Babs in front of Joey. The little boy cried. Howard had stormed out of the house, shouting that he was sick of the sight of both of them. Babs had taken Joey in her arms and soothed him. Holding her son, she’d decided that the only way she could give him a happy future was by running away. The prospect of leaving home had terrified her. She had never held a proper job and never travelled far. Still, she’d known that she had to get out, so for a year she’d saved every cent she could and she hadn’t given Howard any clue of her plans, hoping that before he knew what had happened, they’d be long gone. She’d heard from Alice that Howard had asked around after he’d discovered them gone, but hadn’t been able to locate them. Babs feverishly hoped her luck would hold and Howard would stay away. She had longed to live in Palm Springs, a place where, she had been sure, dreams came true; a place where she and Joey could start over. And here they were. She raised her chin as her eyes drank in the skyline. A new home. A new life. She’d done it.

  *

  Over the next week, Babs worked hard to meet the orders she had taken. Deidre and Sol were always there to look after Joey when the need arose, but gradually, as she got into a routine, Babs was usually able to pack up her sewing and clear the dining room table just before Joey got home, so that the two of them could spend time together before she prepared dinner.

  All the shops were pleased with Babs’s work and they continued to give her orders. Babs and Joey settled into the pleasant life of the village and Babs even joined the tennis club, playing at night under lights when it was cool, which she thought was a wonderful novelty. Joey grew more confident as he became accustomed to life in Palm Desert. He loved his school, his new friends and swimming. He asked about his father less and less as the weeks went by, and Babs heard nothing from Howard. Gradually, she relaxed, letting go of the anxiety that had gripped her for so long. Seeing Joey flourish, Babs knew the decision to leave Portland had been the right one.

  With her work, a growing son and new friends, Babs’s life was full, and one day she was astonished to realise that two years had passed since she and Joey had arrived in Palm Desert. But then a small cloud appeared on the horizon in the form of her eldest sister, Alice, who had written to announce she was coming to visit. And maybe if I like it, I’ll stay. Alice could be so overbearing and bossy. As fond as she was
of her sister, Babs was also fond of her new-found independence and feared that Alice would try to undermine it.

  *

  The morning of her sister’s arrival, Babs was nervous. She stood in front of the mirror and smoothed her hair, which she’d had straightened at the beauty salon. She’d painted her nails in the coral shade that everyone was wearing lately. Babs thought about the relationships she’d had with her two sisters. Deb had been gentle and easy to get along with, but she had married a furniture salesman and moved to Washington state when Babs was still young, so Babs had seen less and less of her over the years. Deb had one child, Cynthia, who was always called Cindy. Although Babs didn’t see a lot of her niece, she loved sending her pretty little dresses to wear. In spite of the distance between them, Babs had always loved Deb and was shocked when she learned that her sister had been diagnosed with cancer, just as their mother had been. When she died, leaving her husband to raise their teenage daughter alone, Babs had carried on making an effort to keep in touch with her

  niece, writing her letters, ringing occasionally, and continu­ing to sew special clothes for her.

  Her other sister, Alice, had married rather well, but Mitchell, who had been an attorney and quite a few years older than Alice, had died a year ago. Babs was in no doubt that he had left her sister a tidy sum. Not that Alice was any slouch at making money herself. She had a real head for business. When Alice had announced her impending arrival, Babs had told her that she was welcome to use her bedroom and volunteered to sleep on the sofa until her sister decided what her plans were to be.

  When Babs told Deidre the news, the older woman had remarked tartly, ‘Well, I wouldn’t be giving up my bed for anyone! But it will be nice for you both to have some family around. Does your sister have any children to keep Joey company?’