A Greater World (27 page)

'Well I can't call you Mother can I? Although I suppose that's technically what you are?'

'My name is Elizabeth.'

'E-liz-a-beth' He repeated her name, slowly drawing out each of the syllables. 'The old man's certainly done all right for himself.'

She blushed. He looked at her as though still seeing her with just the towel round her. She shuddered at the thought that he might have been watching her through the window as she washed.

'You're Nathaniel?'

'The old dog actually mentioned me?'

'Will told me he had an older brother who left home years ago.'

'Ah little Willie. How is the lad? Still picking his nose and wetting his pants?'

Elizabeth frowned with distaste. There was a real animosity in his voice.

'I'm surprised the kid remembers me. He was just a wee lad when I
'left home'
as you put it.'

Elizabeth looked up, surprised.

'I'd have said
'kicked out on my arse'
was a more accurate description, if you'll pardon my French.'

'I'm sure that isn't true?'

'Can't imagine the old dog doing that?' He leaned back in his chair, nodding his head slowly. 'I hear he's quite the man about town these days. Owns the coal mine they tell me?'

'Yes. That's where he is now.'

'Leaving you here on your own? He doesn't appreciate you enough. An elegant woman like you shouldn't be stuck out here, shut away from folk.' He looked around him. 'Mind you, he's made some improvements to the old place. You could almost describe it as comfortable!' He laughed again with the same dry, hollow laugh. 'Not like it was when I lived here. Ma working day and night to keep food on the table and him off gambling the length and breadth of the county.'

She didn't reply but looked back at him, her curiosity piqued.

'Did little brother tell you the old man beat her?'

'She shook her head and felt her face reddening again, not wanting to believe this of Kidd, but remembering the night he had struck her across the face.

'He wasn't a regular wife beater if that's what you're worried about? Dare say he's never raised a fist to you has he? Well why would he? A looker like you. Or has he? You don't look too sure. Well he did hit my old lady. Only the once, but that was enough. He'd been gone for days. Ma was pregnant. She was pregnant all the time. The old goat wouldn't leave her alone.'

He looked her up and down smiling, then continued. 'He came back with empty pockets. She was angry and went for him like a mad thing. He was drunk. That's what made her flip. She hit him so hard he was reeling, then he whacked her back. He bashed her so bad he knocked her out. Then he was weeping and wailing and begging forgiveness. Of course the silly cow did forgive him.'

He spoke slowly, looking about the room, as though recalling the geography of the incident. Elizabeth felt sick, remembering how Kidd had begged her forgiveness too.

Nat Kidd went on, 'He put her to bed then took off to town again, promising to come back with food and money. That's when she got ill. Went down with the influenza. I went after him to try and find him and when I couldn't I kept on searching. I didn't come home for days and when I did Ma was dead and Hattie blamed me for not being here to fetch the doctor. The old man came back then and went into a frenzy. It was his fault she died. He should have been there for her. If he hadn't thrown his money away. If he hadn't bashed her. But he didn't see it that way. He just yelled at me and laid a punch on me that knocked me clean through the door. Told me never to come back. That's the last I've seen of him. Seven years ago. And to think the old bugger's now rolling in money. Too bloody late for poor Ma.'

'I didn't know.'

'He's hardly likely to tell you, is he? Will you marry me, Miss Elizabeth, if I promise not to beat the daylights out of you like I did my last wife?'

'What do you want, Nathaniel?'

'Name's Nat.'

'What do you want, Nat?'

'I want what's mine. When I heard he'd come into money and got himself a coal mine and a new wife I thought I'd have my share. You could call it my rightful inheritance. They tell me you and he have a couple of kiddies and I expect you'll have more if the old goat gets his way, so I want to make sure I get my share of the family fortunes before you and yours fritter it away.'

'My children are dead.'

'What?'

'Diphtheria. We buried them five days ago.'

'I'm sorry.' His voice was more respectful.

'I'm afraid I can't help you in any way. I want to be left alone to grieve for my children. As to money, you'll have to speak to my husband, not to me. I can't help you.'

'Oh but you can, Beauty.'

'How?'

'You can talk to him. Tell him to do the right thing. Insist on it.'

'Why should I do that?'

'Because it's the right thing. And because I'm going to be your shadow until you do.'

'I want you to leave now.'

'I'm minded to stay a while.'

'That's not possible.'

'I think it is. Don't worry, Beauty, I'll sleep out there.' He pointed to the hut where Will used to stay. 'In the meantime we can get better acquainted.' He leaned back in the chair, his feet scuffing up the red gingham cloth on the table, and pulled out his tobacco pouch. 'Why don't you fetch me another beer, there's a good girl.'

'All right. I'll speak to him. But only on condition you leave now. What do you want me to tell him?'

'Don't tell him you've seen me. Tell him you want him to give you five hundred pounds.'

She laughed bitterly. 'Why on earth would I do that?'

'So you can hand it over to me. And because if you don't, you'll be seeing a lot more of me. You and I could get very friendly all on our own out here.' He leaned forward and tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. She jerked away.

'Get out! Get out and don't come back. If you want money ask your father yourself. I don't want you here.' As she spoke, the grief and despair welled up inside her again and she started to sob.

Nat Kidd took a last swig of his beer then ground his cigarette butt into the floor. 'You're upset, so I'll leave you for a while. Out of respect for your loss. But think on it, Beauty. A clever woman like you can find an excuse to get the money. I'm going to Sydney for a few days then I'll be back and I expect to find you've got the cash.'

He moved nearer so that she could smell the tobacco and beer on his breath as he pushed his face up close to hers. 'I'll be back Ee-Liz-A-Beth and you'd better be ready for me.'

Then he left as suddenly as he had arrived. She pulled back the curtain and saw him climb up onto a horse that was grazing untethered in front of the house. He kicked his heels into its flank and rode towards the blue glow of the distant hills.

The anger rose in her like a stimulant. She was no longer tired. She grabbed the remains of the bread and cheese and ate it hungrily. When her husband returned she'd tell him exactly what happened. It was as simple as that. He'd banished his son before, so he could do it again. She didn't care about the rights and wrongs of the situation. She only knew she disliked Nat Kidd intensely and never wanted to clap eyes on him again.

Elizabeth spent the next couple of days sewing and cleaning, as she re-established order in the little house. Kidd had extended the building by adding a large second bedroom. The main bedroom was now partitioned off at the far end of the original large room that had previously served as a combined kitchen, bathroom, bedroom and living area. The second bedroom housed Mikey's cot, the cradle that had been Susanna's and a divan where Mary had slept.

The beds were a cold reminder of what might have been. She knew she had to carry on and try to rebuild her life and that meant moving away from the place where the children had died. But she couldn't do it yet. She couldn't tear herself away from them, in particular from Mikey. She fantasised he might return and she wouldn't be there for him. She stood over the little bed and stroked the coverlet smooth of any wrinkles, then lifted the white cotton pillow and tried to smell the little boy. Only lavender and starch. Mary had seen to that. On the doctor's orders all the bedding and towels had been boiled to remove every trace of the disease. But she did sleep every night with his little blanket clutched in her arms. She'd saved that by hiding it in the trunk under the living room window. Every day and night she tried to drink in his smell, but already she was finding it hard to remember the sweetness of his hair and the just-washed clean smell of his skin, let alone actually trace any scent of him in the blanket. It filled her panic that soon she'd forget what he looked like. She cursed herself daily that she'd delayed arranging for Mr Wilson, the McDonald Falls photographer, to capture the little boy on film. The only images she had were the plates taken at his christening, when he was a babe in arms. He was missing from the formal group photographs at Harriet and Michael's wedding as Mary had whisked him away by the time the photographer had arranged everyone to his satisfaction. As for Susanna, her life was so fleeting it was as though she'd passed through the earth leaving no trace. Elizabeth's milk had dried up. There was nothing but the empty cot to mark that she'd ever existed.

Elizabeth picked up her violin from the cabinet where it lay gathering dust and put it under Mikey's bed. She couldn't bring herself to open the case and take it out, let alone play it. The sadness of its strings would bring the tears back and the memory of music was inextricably linked to her memories of Mikey, playing with his toys at her feet while she practised.

She went into the kitchen, boiled some water, filled the basin and set about washing her underwear and nightdress.

The door opened and she looked up. Jack Kidd stood there.

'Are you all right?' He came towards her and put his hand on her arm. This sudden solicitude was disconcerting. She sighed. 'I can't sleep any more. I've forgotten how.'

'I can't sleep either. It'll get better.' He leaned forward and pressed his lips against the back of her neck. She stiffened at the roughness of his whiskers on her skin. His behaviour was getting dangerously close to affection recently.

He reached around her and gathered the front of her cotton dress in his hands, then slipped one hand under it and stroked her bare thigh.

'Don't.'

Kidd moved his hand higher, pushing it between her legs and touching her through the thin silk of her knickers. She pushed his hands away, splashing him and scattering soapsuds. The sleeves of his shirt were soaked, but he didn't stop, continuing to work his fingers against her through the fabric. She gasped and leaned back against him, giving up resistance. She cried out. Maybe this was what she needed? To lose herself for a while and let go of it all. To take comfort in the physical release that he offered.

Elizabeth was breathing quickly now as his fingers moved inside her. She arched her back against his chest and he lifted her up, carrying her across to the bed. As he entered her he whispered. 'It'll be all right, girl, I promise you.'

As he thrust into her with increasing urgency, a single tear ran down her left cheek to soak into the pillow. She felt a terrible empty loneliness. When he finished, Kidd got up from the bed, rearranged his clothes and went to get a beer. Elizabeth tidied herself up then went back to the sink to finish washing her underclothes, before preparing a simple meal of boiled potatoes and ham.

When they sat down to eat she told him about Nat's visit. Kidd slammed his beer down, spilling some onto the clean tablecloth.

'I'm going into town to find that little runt and send him on his way. He'll not get a brass razoo from me.'

'He's not in town. He's gone to Sydney.'

'In that case you're coming to town with me tomorrow. I'll not have you on your own here.'

'He said he'll be there a few days. I want to stay here. Please. It's important to me. If you're worried about me maybe you could spare Will for a few days if you have to stay in town until Mr Winterbourne returns. Then you can be here yourself.'

'I'm worried Winterbourne won't come back. I've got a bad feeling he's going to bugger off. I don't hold out much hope of him patching things up with Hattie. We'll see. All right, I'll have Will come and stay with you on Friday. Will you be okay till then?'

'Of course I will. Nat won't be back till next week. I'll be alright.'

Chapter Twenty – Reunited

Kidd left early the next morning, before Elizabeth woke from her first uninterrupted sleep in days. When she opened the curtains, the sun was already high in the sky. She felt a surge of energy. The pain of the children was still raw and present, but she knew now she could go on and would go on. She finished her first cup of tea of the day and decided to throw herself into activity of some sort. The vegetable plot needed tackling – the neat ranks of vegetables she and Will had grown a few years back were gone and the area was an untidy mess of scrub and hard earth. She would ask Kidd to bring her seeds to plant. She dug over the impacted earth and hoed and tilled until the sweat poured off her and the soil was as fine as freshly sifted flour.

She leaned back and stretched, surveying her work, her foot resting on the top of the spade as she wiped her brow. There was a cough behind her and she froze, afraid it was Nat Kidd already back again to bully and threaten her. She was ready for him this time. She spun round yelling 'Get out!"

Standing there, his cap in his hand, was a startled looking Michael Winterbourne.

'I'm sorry' she said. 'I thought... my husband isn't here.'

'I know. I came to see you.'

'To see me?' She felt stupid as she echoed his words.

'I want to offer me condolences. I've been in Sydney so I only just heard about what happened to yer bairns.'

'Thank you, but there was no need for you to come all this way.'

'I were very fond of Mikey. And the wee bairn too. It's a terrible thing to happen. I'm sorry.'

'Thank you.' She looked down at the freshly tilled soil then up again at him as the words rushed out. 'You must know how I'm feeling...after losing your brother.'

She wiped the sweat off her brow with a dirty hand then realising, rubbed the soil residue off her hands and onto her apron. 'I'm a bit of a mess. I wasn't expecting anyone.' Then immediately regretting her words, she pulled off her apron and said, 'Come inside for something to drink.' It was still early spring, but the afternoon sun was warm. The digging and hoeing had made her hot and slightly dizzy and she was unsteady on her feet as she led him into the house.

Michael looked around him. 'It's quite a change from the big house.'

'Mr Kidd prefers it here. I don't think he's ever got used to being wealthy. He likes a simple life.'

'And you?'

'Right now it suits me.' She hesitated. 'The children spent their last days here and so ... you know ... it's quiet and I feel I'm still with them... or some echo of them. That sounds foolish, doesn't it?'

'No.' He looked straight into her eyes, in a way he had not done since that afternoon in Sydney. 'When you lose someone you love it's hard... being reminded of them everywhere you look. That's why I left England.' He looked at her directly again.

There was a long silence. Elizabeth walked over to the window and with her back to him, said 'I was raped.'

She heard his sudden intake of breath behind her. 'I was raped by my brother-in-law. That's why I left England. I was running away too.'

She felt him moving towards her. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

She turned to face him as the words tumbled out, each one lifting a weight off her heart. 'I was too ashamed to tell you in Sydney. I thought you might think it was my fault it happened. I did nothing to encourage him but I kept thinking I must have been bad in some way for him to do that to me. For such a terrible thing to happen. Then I found out I was expecting his child. Mikey.'

Michael ran his hand through his hair, his expression bewildered.

Speaking rapidly, she told him how her father's debt to Kidd had compelled her to marry him.

'Why didn't you tell me about the baby?'

'I didn't find out I was pregnant until after you were gone. Marrying Kidd was the only way out. I had no money. I owed him thousands of pounds with no means of repaying it. And I didn't tell you about the rape as I was too ashamed.'

'Good God, Elizabeth, it weren't your fault.'

'I felt unclean, contaminated. I was ...broken.' She slumped into a chair. Michael knelt at her feet and took her hands in his. 'Why, oh why didn't you say? It would have made no difference. I'd 've married you. If you'd 've had me that is.' He looked up at her then away again. 'Why didn't you turn up when we arranged to meet?'

'I tried. Oh God, how I tried! I was delayed after the funeral, trying to convince Kidd that I couldn't marry him. When he told me how much the debt was I didn't know what to do. I didn't know then about the baby. I just knew I had to see you. I thought you'd be able to make it all right. I thought you'd help me think how to get out of the obligation to Kidd. I thought we could go away somewhere he wouldn't be able to find me. But I couldn't get to you. I was too late.'

She paused, as though that day was just a moment ago. She felt again her rising panic and the push of the crowds, the anger of the people around her as she tried to force her way through.

'It was the Prince of Wales's visit. There was a huge a crowd. I couldn't get past. Thousands of people. It was hopeless. I couldn't even turn back – I was carried along in the crush. By the time I reached our meeting place it was dark and hours after we'd agreed to meet. You'd gone. I didn't know where to find you.'

His face was wretched. 'I saw the posters and the flags everywhere but I were that caught up with the thought of you I didn't even take in that the bloody prince were in Australia.' He shook his head. 'He ruined our lives.'

'I doubt that was the poor man's intention.' She smiled.

'I'm as patriotic as the next man. Dammit. I was prepared to give up me life for me country, but I tell you I'll never sing God save the King for him when his time comes, not after what he's done to us.' He put his head in his hands. 'I can't believe it. I thought you were dallying with me. That you'd realised you were too good for me. That I were just a passing fancy.'

'Michael, I went back again and again, every day, hoping to find you. I tramped the streets day after day, searching for you. Hoping and praying I'd find you. I was so alone. I was so frightened.'

He gave a long, low groan. 'I thought you'd had second thoughts. I told meself you didn't care for me, that I weren't good enough. I thought you'd come to your senses and realised that someone as cultured as you should want nowt to do with a miner. The lads as shared the cabin with me on the Historic were pulling me leg – they saw us saying goodbye when you left the ship and told me I'd no chance. I thought that once you'd had time to think about it you didn't want owt to do with me for killing our Danny. I were still feeling that bad about Dan and me Mam and all that, so I believed it were no more than I deserved. I drowned me sorrows in beer and met a chap in a bar who offered me the job at the mine. I came up to the Falls the day after. I'm a damn fool.' He put his head in his hands.

'What's done is done, Michael. We can't turn the clock back.'

'Why didn't you tell me when we met again?'

'When I saw you outside the school you looked at me as though you hated the sight of me. I was afraid. I was confused. I was already married and what was done was done. I'd no idea I'd see you again. No idea you worked for my husband. Then once Mikey was born everything was about protecting him. Jack Kidd gave him his name and I didn't want to do or say anything that might harm Mikey or run the risk of my husband disowning him. And you didn't exactly give me a chance to explain.'

'I'd never ever do anything to hurt you, and I'd never've done anything to harm that little boy. I wish you'd trusted me.'

'I couldn't. You were so cold and so different from before. You ran away from me. You wouldn't listen. I thought you hated me. I didn't know what to do.'

Her tears welled up again. Michael sat with his head in his hands. 'What a bloody mess we made we made of it.'

'I didn't want Mikey, you know. I prayed every night before he was born that he'd die. I didn't even want to hold him after he was born. I thought I'd see his father's face in him.' She almost choked over the words. 'But it wasn't like that. When they made me hold him I was lost. I fell hopelessly in love and I love him still. Oh God, I loved him so much.' Her sobbing swallowed up the words, which came out in starts, interspersed with coughing.

Michael fished in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and dried her eyes, and then kneeling in front of her, he took her in his arms and stroked her hair. 'It's all right, my lovely. It's all right.'

'I can't help thinking that Mikey was taken from me before he could become like his father. If he'd lived, I might have come to hate him as much as I hated his father – but I couldn't have done that could I?'

'He were a good boy. He'd never 'ave turned into a bad person.'

'But as he grew up he might have started to look like him, or have his mannerisms or his voice. I might have come to loathe him. Perhaps I should be thankful that he died before he had the chance to find out his own mother was going to reject him?'

Michael put his hands on her shoulders and eased her away from him so he could look at her face.

'Listen to me, Elizabeth. It were a tragedy that Mikey and his sister were taken from you, but it weren't your fault. Innocent bairns die every day, many of 'em from the same horrible illness as took yours. It's not yer fault. He's gone and we'll all miss him and the wee lass, but you can't bring 'em back and it's not your fault. Life plays cruel tricks. Like keeping the two of us apart.'

She looked at him eagerly. 'Did you really like Mikey?'

'He were a grand little fellow. That's why I came to pay me respects, even though I thought yer wouldn't want to see me. I thought he were Jack Kidd's son, but now I know he wasn't, it makes no difference. I hate yer brother in law for what he did to you. I'd like to kill the bastard but I could never blame you or the child.'

'Thank you.'

He stroked her hair and then buried his face in it and breathed deeply, drinking in the smell of her. She smelled of the fresh soil she'd been tilling, with an undercurrent of lavender. He pulled away and looked into her eyes. 'As God's me witness, Elizabeth Morton, I love you with every bone in me body. I wish you'd told me all this long ago, but what's done's done. There's something you need to know.'

She stiffened.

'I'm going to New Zealand.'

Elizabeth gave a little cry and pulled herself back into the chair. 'You're leaving? With Harriet?'

'She's staying in Sydney. You were right about us marrying. It were a terrible mistake. I only did it because I were angry with you. I wanted to punish you. And punish meself. I nearly backed out the night afore the wedding till Will told me at the buck's night you were having another bairn and I flipped. I wanted to hurt you as much as you'd hurt me and the best way to do that was marrying Hat. I thought it were also because you thought I weren't good enough for her, same as I weren't good enough for you.'

'Oh, Michael, how could you have thought that?'

'Once she got her hands on the money from her Da she didn't think about anything else. We never cared for each other. I were wrong to go through with it. I felt sorry for her after the races when her old man made a show of her. I thought I'd have to settle down at some point, so why not with her? I couldn't have the woman I loved, so why not Harriet? The gaffer wanted it and I thought mebbe with time we'd find a way to muddle along together. God knows I tried.'

'You still can! You can keep trying' she whispered, her head forcing out the words while her heart screamed in protest.

'No. It's pointless. I know now it can never work. She's shallow. She's cold. She despises me. I were just her means of getting away from the Falls and getting her hands on the cash. And I reckon she thought marrying me would get at you. She's not daft. She sensed there were summat between us.'

'I felt that she did too.'

'She's a mixed-up girl in lots of ways. She's never got over the death of her mam and there doesn't seem to be much feeling between her and her da. Or her and Will for that matter.'

'But Michael, ending a marriage when the ink's barely dry on the licence? It's only been eighteen months.'

'There's more to it. She's taken up with a bunch of people that are no good. Bone idle and filthy rich. The champagne set. Not that it's only champagne – there's cocaine as well.'

'That's dreadful. She's just a child.'

'A child who's quickly got used to the ways of the world. Look, I don't want us having any more secrets from each other, so I'm going to tell you everything. She were expecting a child and paid to have it aborted. She only thought it worth telling me after it were done and dusted. I'm not even sure it were mine anyway.'

He stared into the fire, avoiding her eyes. 'We didn't exactly have a lot of opportunity. I were up here and she were mostly in Sydney. She may have been sleeping with one of the sleazy characters she hung out with. I caught her taking cocaine with one of them – a rich bastard who thought the world owed him a living. She said she wasn't sleeping with him as he was a queer. But there may have been others. Some swine helped arrange for her to have the baby got rid of.'

'Does Jack know about this?'