Bridie's Fire (10 page)

‘What's wrong with you, girl!' said Biddy Ryan, turning on Caitlin. ‘Do you have to spoil everything with your stupid book-learning?'

‘I didn't mean it like that.'

‘Well, have some sense, woman. You're always spoiling the fun.'

‘At least I have common sense, while you've no sense at all,' said Caitlin.

‘I've heard about your “sense”. The sense to leave your sister lying half-dead in a ditch while you made yourself cosy.'

Caitlin flinched but it was Bridie who struck out in response, pushing Biddy onto the deck. She wrapped a hank of Biddy's hair in her fist and yanked on it, hard, and then bit fiercely on Biddy's shoulder until she could taste blood. Biddy screamed and scratched back, a whirling mass of skirts and hair. Bridie could hear Caitlin shouting for her to stop and then the matrons were tearing them apart, taking each girl roughly by the arm and hauling them below decks. Biddy and Bridie sat sweaty and breathless on the edge of their bunks, glaring at each other.

Suddenly, Biddy grinned and smoothed her hands across her chestnut hair. ‘You fight like a vixen, never mind how you play the good girl with that whore Cait Moriarty.'

‘She's no whore,' said Bridie, resting her fingers against the bruise that was swelling on her cheekbone.

‘You may be a little one, Bridie O'Connor, but there's none on this ship that's so dainty that they haven't lied and stolen to be here. Sure, but there must be something black inside each of us to keep us strong while all our kin are buried deep.'

‘Maybe you and I are cut from the same cloth, Biddy Ryan, but Caitlin Moriarty's made of finer stuff,' snapped Bridie. ‘I wish they hadn't stopped me before I could belt the priest's share out of you for slagging off at an angel.'

‘
Oanshagh
, you fool, you'll scrab my eyes out 'cause I tell the truth, will you? Every girl from Kerry knows the story of how Caitlin Moriarty left her sister at the workhouse gate where she died that night while Caitlin herself nestled up warm and safe in the straw. I'll not damn her, but I'll not suffer her airs either. She's no better than any one of us.'

Bridie wanted to pummel the foul-mouthed girl until Biddy cried out that everything she said was a lie, but she tucked her clenched fists under her arms to stop herself from swinging another blow and turned her back instead.

14

Winds of freedom

Now that they were sailing through warmer climates, there seemed so much more to do. Every morning just after dawn, a tent was set up on the deck, and inside it, behind folds of calico, was a large bath full of seawater. Bridie loved the way the cold water made her gasp and her flesh tingle. When she scrubbed her skin, it was as if she was scrubbing away all the vestiges of her old life. It seemed as if all the pain and hurt and squalor of the workhouse had happened to someone else. The sounds of the ship's bell ringing, the lapping of the waves, the creaking of the timbers: everything about being at sea seemed to add to her sense of happiness, and she sang to herself quietly as she washed. High above in the patch of blue sky between the folds of canvas, an albatross floated, watching over her, turning in graceful curves as it soared above the ship.

On a fine hot day as they sailed through the tropics, the Superintendent ordered the girls' boxes hoisted out of the hold. The sailors hated the whole ritual of airing the girls' possessions and grumbled as they flung the trunks onto the deck.

The deck was soon covered with boxes and girls shrieking with excitement as they pulled out their frocks for airing and took out special objects that had been packed away these past months. Some of the girls had managed to cling to small treasures from their homes and Bridie watched as they lovingly fondled the familiar ornaments. The chore wasn't of much interest to her. She looked into her box of possessions and was amazed at the number of things inside, but she felt no connection to any of them. They were new and crisp and smelt unfamiliar. There was nothing of her family, no memento from her own home, not one thing that made her soul yearn for her old life. Perhaps if they'd let her keep her wooden spoon, or if she'd thought to cut a lock of Brandon's hair, then the box would stir some feeling.

Margaret O'Shea sat holding a locket from her mother, with tears in her eyes.

‘Ah, but it's a harsh thing to be sent away from your own loved country and all your own folk,' she cried. At first her lament was just in a sing-song voice, but soon it turned into a howl and a moment later other girls had joined her, each wringing her hands and wailing at her fate.

Bridie watched them but she couldn't make herself feel their sharp grief. She glanced across and saw that Caitlin too was sitting quietly, her hands folded over her skirts, staring out to sea. Bridie tried to push away the fears she'd harboured since the fight with Biddy. Maybe it was true; maybe there was something dark inside herself and Caitlin. Why couldn't they grieve like the other girls? Was it because they were so black-hearted? It was only when the shrieks of the wailing girls began to echo the length of the ship that a vision of the women of Dunquin around her father's body came to Bridie, and she felt a wave of grief break over her so powerful that a cry rose up in her throat for all the things she had lost.

The Surgeon-Superintendent stormed on deck and ordered all the boxes to be shut and put away. In a loud voice, he ordered the girls to be quiet. Bridie wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and began repacking her trunk. When they were lined up to go below again, she glanced into Caitlin's face and saw it was as still and calm as ever. The fear that everything Biddy had said was true gripped her and wouldn't let go.

Eighty-four days after leaving Plymouth they came in sight of Van Diemen's Land. A ripple of excitement swelled through the decks but it quickly turned to fear as a wild gale blew up from the north-east. During the night, Bridie heard something snap, timber cracking like gunshot fire, and then a shuddering crash as something heavy hit the deck. Sailors shouted and screamed above the roar of the storm and the girls below decks shrieked in alarm. Bridie snuggled closer to Caitlin.

As the seas grew rougher, a girl cried out that they were being locked below deck and they all heard the sound of the hatches being fastened tight. The ship pitched back and forward and Bridie fought back the image of the ship sinking with all the girls drowning between decks. Some of the girls were crying. Biddy Ryan was sick in her bunk.

Suddenly, Caitlin's voice rose up above the creaking timbers and the roar of the sea as she read from her Bible. Even though the lantern swung wildly, making the shadows rush back and forward, Caitlin read steadily. Bridie lay close beside her and focused on Caitlin's voice, trying to shut out the sound of the bilgewater churning beneath them. ‘Behold, I show you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.' An image came to Bridie, bright and clear, of her family and all her friends at Dunquin, rising out of the ocean; brightest of all was an image of Brandon, walking through the wild sea towards her. With a rush of guilt, Bridie realised she hadn't thought of him for days. Perhaps more frightening than the storm that raged around them was Bridie's sudden fear that she had been changed, that as her life became better, her heart was becoming blacker. Then Caitlin slipped an arm around her and hugged her as she read, and Bridie felt the darkness lift.

The next day when the girls came up for air, they found that the big brown-and-white albatross that had been following them was lying, half-drowned, on the deck. Its long brown wings, large enough to carry a man, and each one longer than the tallest sailor on board, were stretched taut. At first Bridie thought the storm had rendered the albatross flightless, but then a sailor pulled a baited hook from its beak and she realised the bird had been caught. The sailor lashed its beak shut with a piece of string, handling it with rough disregard. The bird struggled to its feet and walked about the deck in distress, no longer the beautiful sky creature Bridie had admired for the whole voyage, but a clumsy, pathetic beast, unable to take to the air. Some of the girls laughed, and a sailor in the rigging looked down and called out that it looked just like the second mate. Bridie leapt forward, tore the string from around the bird's beak and, using all her strength, heaved the great creature over the side of the ship. The sailor grabbed her by the arm. ‘You brat, it was naught but a bit of fun I was having.'

Bridie's cheeks burned in the flush of her rage. ‘The curse of St Martin upon you,' she shouted, drawing her leg back and kicking the sailor in the shins as hard as she could.

Later, sent to her bunk again in disgrace by the Surgeon-Superintendent, she seethed at the injustice of being punished for rescuing the albatross. Caitlin came down below deck and sat beside her. She reached over and took Bridie's hand in hers.

‘I know you felt you were doing right, Bridie, but you've got to mind that temper of yours. It won't serve us well in the Colony.'

‘But he was doing wrong, Caitlin! That bird never did him any harm.'

‘It's not the point, girl. It's the same as when you set upon Biddy Ryan. I know you meant to help me, but you have to learn to rein in your feelings. You and I, we've talked about how we're going to make good, how we're going to get ahead. But if you go losing your temper, getting in the way of other people's business, then it's going to be harder. Harder for us to be together.'

‘Did your sister have a foul temper? Is that why you left her outside the gate?' said Bridie, feeling the sting of her words even as they escaped her.

Caitlin recoiled.

‘Bridie, your own sweet mother died in a ditch,' said Caitlin so softly that Bridie had to lean closer to hear the bitter words.

In the long silence, Bridie heard all the sounds of the ship about her, the creaking of the timbers, the wash of the sea, the voices of the other girls above deck and the cries of the sailors. And she heard her own breath coming fast and sharp and her heart pounding. Gently, Caitlin reached out and put her arm around Bridie.

‘Darlin' girl, I want you to promise me you'll try harder to mind your temper.'

Bridie sighed, and leaned her head against Caitlin's shoulder.

‘When my dad died, staying angry was what kept me and Brandon alive, like it fed the fire inside me. And then when we were at the workhouse, I felt like all the fire had gone out in me. But the sea breeze, it's like the wind of freedom, Cait, blowing off the new world and making me feel like the spark in me is alive again. Don't make me promise a lie.'

‘I don't want you to promise for my sake, girl,' said Caitlin, taking Bridie's face in her hands and staring hard into her eyes. ‘It's for your own sake, Bridie O'Connor. How are you going to serve your new master if you let your temper make you battle-mad?'

‘I'll be a good servant to an honest master,' said Bridie. ‘I can promise that.'

Now, it was Caitlin who sighed. ‘Let's pray that the new world is full of honest men.'

15

The New World

It was a bright January day when they sailed into Port Phillip Bay. The country on either side was grey-green, stark and stripped dry in the harsh sunlight. Bridie hung over the side of the ship and stared hungrily at the foreign shore. After all those months at sea, it would be strange and delicious to feel earth beneath her feet.

Even though the land was only a stone's throw from them, the girls weren't to be taken ashore until the following day. Bridie stood on the deck beside Caitlin and stared at the docks of Williamstown.

‘They're taking us to a depot tomorrow. Then folk will come and sign for us, take us to be indentured in their homes and in their businesses,' said Caitlin.

‘Let's pray that we go together,' said Bridie, full of hope. Caitlin didn't reply as she bent over the side and stared down into the green water.

The docks were teeming with men. Margaret O'Shea stood on her tiptoes and stared into the crowds, searching for the cousin she swore was coming to meet her. Bridie heard Margaret squeal with pleasure as a tall man with a red beard approached the dock. Several other girls were met right there on the waterfront, and Bridie pushed down her feelings of envy. One day, she'd be waiting on the docks for Brandon. One day, she told herself.

The air was sour with the smell of fish and tar. Bridie looked down at her heavy boots flashing out from beneath her long skirt, sidestepping brackish puddles of seawater. It was peculiar to be able to take so many steps in a straight line, to not have to take into account the swaying of the timbers beneath her feet. It made her feel unbalanced.

The girls were marched to a jetty where some small boats were waiting to take them up the yellow river to Melbourne. Bridie sat quietly in the boat, her hands folded in her lap, but she stared out across the salt marshes in wide-eyed amazement. The whole landscape was drenched with a harsh, raw light. The foliage of the gnarled shrubs was silver and grey and blue-green, nothing like the exotic lush jungle she'd imagined. Further along the river, they passed a strange, tangled clump of trees with leaves that all seemed to hang limply and point down in a way she'd never seen before.

The river widened and then narrowed as they travelled upstream. As they approached the wharf Bridie caught sight of a jumble of buildings on the north shore, and further up the river, on the south bank, was a crowd of canvas tents – a small town in itself.

The girls were marched up from the wharf and along a busy street. Bridie had imagined Melbourne as a village no bigger than Dingle, but here was a town as grand as Tralee, with wide streets and tall bluestone buildings, even though it was only a few years older than she was. People stared at the girls as they walked in line up King Street, and Bridie moved a little closer towards Caitlin so their arms touched. Caitlin looked down at her and smiled.