Authors: Clare Flynn
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #20th Century, #Historical Fiction, #Australian & Oceanian
'He's bosker, Elizabeth. So small. Just like a little wombat.' If he had worked out that the birth of his stepbrother was a couple of months too soon for him to have been his stepbrother, he gave no indication.
The baby stirred.
'Just hold your little finger out to him – he'll grab onto it.' She said.
Gingerly the boy did as she suggested, then started to laugh. 'He's got a fair old grip on him. Hey there Mikey boy! You've got a stronger grip than me, mate. Can I call him Mikey, Lizbeth? Michael John's a big name for such a little fella.'
'I suppose so – at least while he's a little baby. Now come and sit here by me and tell me all your news. How's the rabbit fund? What brings you to town at last? I'm so happy to see you. I've missed you.'
'The old man wants me to go into the mine. He says he might lease out Wilton's Creek. He's wants us all living together here. Maybe Hattie too. Do you know Elizabeth, God's honest truth, I'd no idea about this place. I thought when he was in town he stayed in a boarding house. Sometimes I wonder what his game is? I reckon he just likes to keep us all guessing about things?'
'Harriet knew. She called on me here one day.'
'She's as bad as he is. Secretive. But she isn't living here yet is she?'
'No. She called here just the one time and I'm afraid we didn't get off to a good start. It was a very short visit. I'm at fault I know. I meant to call on her later but she made it clear she didn't want to have any further contact with me. I should have persisted, but I was very tired before the baby was born and somehow I never got around to trying again. You know how your father is. I couldn't raise the subject with him – he's never even mentioned her to me. As far as he's aware, I might not even know she exists! Just as he never told me about you or about Kinross House. He certainly enjoys surprising people.'
'I don't know that he enjoys anything. Except being miserable and trying to make everyone else miserable too. He's an awkward old bugger – I'm sorry I shouldn't be using bad words with you, Lizbeth. I don't want to offend.'
She smiled. 'I think there's a good streak inside your father, Will. He's had a hard life and he struggles to show his emotions. But he can be kind. He certainly specialises in surprises.' She told him about the violin.
Will raised his eyebrows. 'Fair go. I shouldn't talk badly of him to you – you're married to him – though God knows why.'
The end of this sentence was muttered at the floor, but sufficiently loud for Elizabeth to hear. She chose to ignore it.
'I'm so happy you're going to be living here. I've really missed you.'
The blush spread across his face.
'How do you feel about going to work in the mine? What sort of work does your father want you to do? Is he going to train you to take over the running of the place?'
'You're joking! He wants me down there digging rocks and shifting loads. Learning the hard way, he says. Just like he did. 'Except he didn't, did he? Anyway he's got a new foreman. He'd rather trust a stranger than his own son. I'm just a workhorse as far as he's concerned.'
'You're being a little hard on him. I'm sure he has good intentions. He probably wants you to have the experience of hard work and doesn't want you to be spoilt by his money?'
Will snorted with derision. 'You think everyone is as good intentioned as you are. The old bastard certainly isn't. He wouldn't know a good intention from a didgeridoo.'
Elizabeth smiled. 'We'll just have to agree to disagree. I'm sure he wants you to get some experience that will ready you for taking things over eventually.'
'He won't let me take over anything. After what happened with Nat, he won't ever let a son of his get involved in his business. Besides he prefers Hattie. She's more like him, even though she's a girl. He probably wants to marry her off to someone who can take over from him in the end. Either that or he'll wait till little Mikey grows up.'
Elizabeth was uncertain if there was an implication that Michael's parentage was in question, but the subject was dropped and she turned to quizzing Will about his rabbit trapping and the progress of the now abandoned vegetable patch at Wilton's Creek.
The following evening, while the baby was sleeping, Mrs Oates entered the drawing room with pencil and paper in hand. 'Is now a good moment to talk to you about the menu for tomorrow evening, Mrs Kidd? Or we can leave it until morning?'
'What's to discuss, Mrs Oates? I'm happy, as always, to leave the arrangements to you and Cook.'
Mrs Oates looked surprised. 'Have you forgotten, Ma'am? Tomorrow night we have company. I thought you'd like to discuss what Cook should prepare. I got the impression Mr Kidd wants a special effort to be made. But if you're happy to leave it to me that's quite all right? I know you must be tired.'
Elizabeth struggled to hide her embarrassment, and then decided there was nothing to be gained from pretending to be aware of her husband's plans. She was getting weary of his gamesmanship.
'Mrs Oates, I'm at a loss as to what you are talking about.'
A puzzled look flickered for over the face of the older woman. 'But, Mrs Kidd - the dinner to mark the arrival of Master Michael John.'
Elizabeth decided to lie rather than confess that Kidd hadn't told her. 'Of course. I was distracted – I'm getting forgetful with all these disturbed nights.'
'I keep telling you, Ma'am, we could give the child formula during the night so you could get some proper sleep. You need it.'
'No, Mrs Oates. I don't want to discuss this again. I want to nurse my own child.'
The servant shook her head in mild disapproval, but continued. 'There'll be six at table: you and Mr Kidd, Master William, Miss Harriet, Miss Radley from the school and Mr Winterbourne.'
'Mr Winterbourne?' Her words were little more than a whisper, and she struggled for breath. 'I'm sorry, I've forgotten. Who is Mr Winterbourne?'
'Why he's Mr Kidd's new foreman at the mine. He's recently come from England, just like you ma'am. He must have made a big impression on Mr Kidd. He took him on as a worker then made him foreman in no time at all.'
Elizabeth forced a laugh. 'Motherhood is indeed making me forgetful. Mr Kidd told me what a good job Mr Winterbourne's been doing. As to the menu, I'll leave it in your very capable hands.'
With an eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly in disapproval, Mrs Oates left Elizabeth staring out of the drawing room window.
Chapter Thirteen – The Dinner Party
Kidd stood in the bedroom doorway, anger etched on his face. 'Get out of bed and get downstairs.'
'I'm not well. Something I ate at luncheon disagreed with me. Please make my apologies to our guests. Harriet will make a very congenial hostess.'
Her husband lunged towards her and grabbed her by the wrists. 'Get up now and get downstairs or I'll beat the living daylights out of you. I ask little enough, but what I do ask, I expect you to do.'
'I can't. I told you I'm not feeling well.'
With a sudden jerk of his arms, he pulled her up and made as though he were about to slap her across the face. Instinctively she ducked away from the blow that never came. The baby stirred in the cradle, then settled down.
Still holding her by the wrist he said, 'Put your clothes on and get downstairs. You'll not make a show of me in my own house. You'll sit at that table and you'll smile and be polite and talk your fancy talk to my guests.'
'Your guests? The guests you didn't even have the courtesy to tell me about. If you want me to play the chatelaine, then have the decency to tell me. Don't leave me to find out from the housekeeper.' She sobbed with anger.
'I won't say it again. And I won't be questioned. You can save those fancy foreign words for the guests, as they're wasted on me. Just remember this – you were penniless with a bastard in your belly. I've given you and the brat a name and a fine home. So you'll do what I ask. You're my wife.' He opened the doors of the wardrobe, pulling out dresses and throwing them onto the bed. 'All these fine clothes I've paid for. Put them on. Why do you think I bought them for you? So they can hang in a cupboard while you lie in bed and leave me to entertain the guests? I won't tell you again. Get downstairs. They'll be here any minute.'
Her heart beating like a hammer, Elizabeth entered the drawing room. She had splashed cold water on her face, chosen a dark blue silk dress and pulled her hair into some semblance of order. Despite the speed of her preparations and the argument that preceded them, she looked radiant. Motherhood had put a bloom on her face. Her hair had a gloss on it and was so silky that it slipped, as usual, out of the restraints imposed by the chignon she had hastily created, and formed little tendrils around her neck. She was a picture of calm beauty that belied her inner agitation. She took a deep breath before entering the room and was greeted by silence as the assembled company turned to look at her.
Everything blurred. Figures interchangeable and indistinguishable save one. Michael had his back to the door when she entered the room, but turned when the pause in the conversation signalled that the lady of the house had arrived.
She felt the colour rise up her throat to her face, and her skin burned hot as a bush fire. She tried to control the trembling that set her legs shaking and made her unsteady and dizzy. She clutched the back of a chair and took a deep breath. No matter how clearly his features were etched on her consciousness, each time she saw him, she saw him anew. The combination of joy and pain and the desire to rush across the room and fling herself into his arms was overwhelming. It must be apparent to the whole room? But the Kidds and Miss Radley were deaf to the thumping of Elizabeth's heart and the pounding of the veins in her temple.
Michael appeared frozen to the spot. Then he stepped aside to allow Miss Radley to meet their hostess first.
Elizabeth fixed her eyes on the woman and, stepping away from the support of the chair, extended her hand in welcome. 'How do you do, Miss Radley? I am so pleased to meet you at last.'
The schoolmistress smiled warmly in response. 'Delighted to meet you too, Mrs Kidd, and warmest congratulations on your happy event.'
Elizabeth turned to greet Harriet, only to find the girl had moved across the room and was talking quietly with Mrs Oates in the doorway. She turned instead towards Will. 'Will, how are you this evening?'
'I'm pretty good, Elizabeth.'
Realising that neither Jack Kidd nor Will was likely to proffer formal introductions, she stretched out a trembling hand to Michael. 'You must be Mr Winterbourne?'
His hand was warm in hers. As she felt the touch of his skin on hers she could not suppress a little gasp.
'Mrs Kidd.'
Their eyes met for just a moment, then he looked away and withdrew his hand. She stepped backwards, groping for the chair and using it again for support. When she lifted her eyes, he had already moved out of her space to join Will by the window. She saw Harriet was watching her. The girl was leaning against the door staring at her coldly.
'Mrs Kidd, might I see the new baby?' Miss Radley's eyes were bright and eager.
'Yes of course. I'll take you up to have a peek at him after dinner.'
'What have you called the little chap?'
'We've named him for both my late father and my husband.'
Miss Radley looked expectantly at her and Elizabeth realised the rest of the room had stopped talking. In a voice barely above a whisper she said, 'Michael John. His name is Michael John.' She didn't look at Winterbourne but she felt his eyes upon her and felt the heat of blood rushing up her neck and across her face.
'Two good solid names.' Miss Radley replied.
Harriet's voice carried across the room. 'Isn't your name Michael too, Mr Winterbourne?'
Michael acknowledged her with a slight nod of the head then resumed his conversation with William.
Just then, Mrs Oates opened the double doors. Still feeling unsteady on her feet, Elizabeth led the assembled company into the dining room. In line with convention, she and Kidd were at opposite ends of the table, Kidd between Harriet and Miss Radley and Elizabeth between Will and Michael Winterbourne. She prayed that Will would be in a talkative mood tonight, the distance from his father being enough to remove his usual inhibitions in his company. No sooner had they sat down than Kidd got up. 'If I have to sit at a table all night, then don't expect me talk to the womenfolk.' He strode to Elizabeth's end of the table. 'You sit down there. I can't be doing with women's chatter.'
Mrs Oates raised an eyebrow as she brought the food to the table. Mr Oates continued to pour the wine without changing his expression. As he reached the men's end of the table, Kidd thumped his fist down on the cloth. 'Take that stuff away, Oates. Keep it for the ladies – not too much mind – and bring us some beer.'
Elizabeth started to protest, but felt Miss Radley's hand gently placed upon her arm.
'Miss Radley, I apologise for my husband's behaviour.'
'Don't worry. They do things differently here. Men like their beer and they don't stand on ceremony. You'll get used to it. I'm from England too – though a good many years ago. I thought I'd never get used to life here, but I did.'
'What brought you to Australia?'
'I was sixteen when my mother died and my father decided to come out here. He'd already met my stepmother and it was her idea. She never settled to the way of life here and they went back to England a few years later. By then I was teaching in Melbourne and engaged to be married.'
Elizabeth hesitated to cross-question her guest, but Miss Radley needed no prompting to tell her story.
'He was a teacher too. We met at a concert. Bernard Evans was his name. He wasn't rich. He wasn't even handsome. But he was a good man and I miss him every day of my life.'
'What happened? Was it the War?'
'No. He died of diphtheria. It happened very quickly. All over in a week. It was just two months before our wedding day.'
'How dreadful.'
'It was. I didn't know what to do. I had nobody. Bernard had been alone here in Australia too. Born in the Welsh Valleys. We'd planned to come to McDonald Falls to open a school. He loved the mountains. I'd never been – we were to come here after the wedding, stopping off at a few places on the way as a kind of honeymoon: we didn't have much money and what we had was needed for the school. When he died I didn't know what to do with myself. I couldn't face the world. I didn't even want to eat. Then one day I was lying on my bed crying – I seemed to do that most days after he went – when it was as though I heard him speaking to me. "Get up, Verity" he said. "No good lying in bed feeling sorry for yourself or for me. There's children out there need teaching and who's going to do it if not you?" It was as if he were right there in the room beside me. It was the strangest experience I've ever had.'
'Did it happen again?'
'Never. I talk to him often – you'll probably think I'm crazy – but he's never spoken to me again. Just that once. Just to get me back on my feet. Next day I packed my bags and set off for McDonald Falls. And do you know? I've never left the place since.' She smiled. 'Everything I've ever wanted, aside from Bernard Evans, I have here. And I feel close to Bernard too, as this is where he wanted to live. It was the place he loved best and it's where he wants me to be.'
Elizabeth warmed to the small, thin spinster with the constantly smiling face. Her sunny nature belied the sadness that must have impoverished her life. After hearing the story of Miss Radley's fiancé, Elizabeth told her about the death of Stephen. The teacher's eyes filled with tears and she placed her hand on Elizabeth's.
'We have so much in common. I've now found contentment in my vocation as a teacher and you've found happiness with Mr Kidd and your little baby. We are both truly blessed.'
Elizabeth looked past the schoolmistress at Winterbourne, who was talking to Will, while Jack Kidd listened and solemnly drank his beer. She strained to hear what he was saying but the table was long and his voice was low. At least that meant he would not be able to hear her either.
She turned back to Miss Radley and said, 'Tell me about the school.'
'I had no money so I just gathered those children I could and gave them lessons in the shade of a tree here in town. I put a sign in the post office that I was willing to teach any children. At first only a few came but little by little the numbers grew. The town was growing fast then – although mostly menfolk working in the mines and on the railroad. They tended to leave the women and children on the coast at first, but as time went on, more and more of them settled here permanently. I like to think that having some proper schooling is what attracted so many people to settle in the town.'
'When did you get the school premises?'
'Ten years ago. Mr McDonald, who practically owned the town then – and owned the mine before Mr Kidd – built the schoolhouse and paid for the furniture and books. He was a great benefactor.'
'What happened to him?'
'He's retired and lives in Sydney. He sold the mine to Mr Kidd.'
Elizabeth realised this was the man rumoured to have lost everything at the card table to Jack Kidd, but she decided to refrain from mentioning this. Telling Verity Radley might diminish the schoolmistress's respect for her benefactor, while doing nothing to enhance Jack Kidd's reputation.
She looked again to the other end of the table; Kidd was munching his food and swigging beer, throwing the odd comment in Michael's direction. Harriet was eating in sullen silence on her left, next to Winterbourne. She had ignored Miss Radley's discourse, either from familiarity with its subject matter, or more likely to avoid being drawn into conversation with her step-mother.
When the dessert was served and Harriet had still not spoken, Elizabeth decided to take the girl on. She addressed Miss Radley, but leaned forward to include Harriet in the conversation. 'Is Harriet the only pupil who lives with you at the schoolhouse?'
'She is now, aren't you, Hattie? Until a year ago there were the Dunbar twins too. Their place is twenty miles out of town, so during the week they used to stay with us in town, but they've grown up now. Millicent helps out at home, as her mother is sick and can't do much these days and Pru got married a few months back to a young man from Katoomba, so she's gone to live there.'
'You must miss them, Harriet?' Elizabeth said.
The girl stared back at her in silence. Elizabeth flushed in anger but resisted responding, as Verity Radley had started to answer for the girl. 'Harriet's very different from the Dunbars aren't you?'
She added in a confidential tone to Elizabeth: 'Being twins they tended to stick together a lot – poor Hattie was left out a bit I think.'
Harriet spoke, stung into a response. 'Couple of outback ignoramuses. Good only for milking cows and plucking chooks.'
Miss Radley appeared oblivious to the venom in the girl's voice and smiled indulgently. 'Don't be mean-spirited. Not everyone is as clever as you, or shares your love of literature and music.'
'Literature and music?' Elizabeth seized on the information. 'Who's your favourite composer, Harriet?'
'I listen to music and I read books. That doesn't mean I want to talk about them with ignorant pommies.'
'Harriet! That's extremely rude! Apologise to Mrs Kidd.' Miss Radley spoke quietly but firmly, clearly anxious to avoid the male company overhearing.
Harriet was not accepting any reprimands. She scraped back her chair and jumped to her feet.
'I've had enough. Just because he's married her doesn't mean I have to talk to her. Or sit at the table with her.'