The Pride of the Peacock (9 page)

I said it had been very interesting and I told Mrs. Bucket that I was glad to have made her acquaintance, and when I had thanked Hannah for showing me the house I left.

I felt they were watching me as I walked down the drive

SS

and was glad when I reached the bend, although then I was exposed to the road and wondered what would happen if Miriam, Xavier or my parents came along at that moment. They did not, however, and I reached the Dower House unobserved.

I kept thinking of what Mrs. Bucket had said about Jessica and the scones and I went straight to the Waste Land and found the plaque which I had stuck back into the ground with the name showing: jessica glaveeung ju . 1880.

She must be the Jessica of whom Mrs. Bucket had spoken.

All through the hot month of August I went to Oakland Hall. It was not only on Wednesdays because Ben said he disliked regularities. He liked unexpected things to happen, so he would say: “Come on Monday” or “Come on Saturday.” And sometimes I would say: “Well, that’s the church fete day’-or some such engagement-‘and they’d miss me.” Then we would make another date.

He seemed to be showing progress and could walk about more easily with the aid of his crutch. He made jokes about his false leg and called himself Ben Pegleg and said he reckoned he’d do as well with wood as most people did with flesh and blood. He used to hold my arm and we would walk along the gallery together.

Once he said to me: There ought to be family pictures here. That’s what a gallery’s for, they say. My ugly face wouldn’t add much to it.

”

“Ifs the most interesting face I have ever seen,” I told him.

The face in question twitched at that. Underneath his tough exterior he was a very sentimental man.

He always talked a great deal and I had vivid pictures of what his life had been. He made me see the streets of London clearly and I could picture him with his bright eyes darting everywhere, discovering the best way of selling his wares and always being one step ahead of the rest. He spoke often of his mother and he was very tender then.

dearly he had loved her dearly. Once I said to him: “Ben, you should have had a wife.”

“I wasn’t the marrying sort,” he replied.

“Funny thing, there was never one who was there at the right moment. Timing plays a big part in life. The opportunity has to be there;

when you’re in a position to seize it I’m not going to tell’ you there weren’t women. That would be a falsehood and we want truth between us

two, don’t we? I’d be with Lucy for a year or so and then just when I’d be thinking it was time I made it legal, something would happen to change it all. Then there was Betty. A good woman, Betty, but I knew it wouldn’t have worked with her either. “

“You Could have had some sons and daughters to fill the gallery.”

“I’ve got the odd one or two,” he said with a grin.

“At least they claim me as father … or did when I began to grow rich.”

“Perhaps they would have claimed you if you were a poor man.”

“Who’s to say?”

And so we talked.

I was friendly with the servants too. Mrs. Bucket had taken me to her heart. She liked to discover how Mrs. Cobb did certain things and questioned me closely. She would sit nodding in a superior way with a smirk on her lips as I talked, and I was sure she was unfair to Mrs. Cobb.

“Old Jarman would have done better to stay,” she commented

“Look what he got. A cottage and enough children to fill it to overflowing, if you ask me. He would have been better to stay and wait for another five years. He’d have had five less to feed then.”

Wilmot after a while accepted my visits to the servants’ hall. I was sure he worked it out that although I was a dave ring I was not really an Oakland Hall dave ring for I had not been bora in the great vaulted chamber where other Claverings had first viewed the world, but in a foreign land. It had lowered my status in some way, and although he treated me with respect it was tempered with a certain condescension

I was amused and Ben and I used to laugh a great deal over it, and I would wonder how I had endured the monotony of my life in pre-Ben days.

It was as we were approaching the end of August that Ben made me uneasy. We were taking our stroll along the gallery and he was now dearly able to walk quite easily with the aid of his crutch.

“If this goes on,” he said, “I’ll be off on my travels next year.” He was aware of my consternation and hastened to reassure me.

“It won’t be this side of Christmas. I’ve got a lot more practice to do yet.”

“It will be so dull here without you,” I stammered.

He patted my arm.

“Ifs a long way off. Who can say what will happen by Christmas?”

“Where would you go?” I asked.

“I’d go up to my place north of Sydney … not far from the opal country where I’m sure there are more finds to be made.”

Tou mean you’d go mining again “Ifs in my blood.”

“But after your accident…”

“Oh, I’m not sure that I’d go off with my pick. I didn’t mean that. My partner and I have mines out there that we know are going to yield.

We’ve got men working for us. “

“What’s happening to all that now ?”

Oh, the Peacock’s looking after it. “

The Peacock? “

Ben began to laugh.

“One day,” he said, ‘you’ll have to meet the Peacock. The name suits him. “

“He must be vain.”

“Oh, he’s got a good conceit of himself. Mind you, I’m not saying it’s not warranted. Ever seen a peacock’s feather … that blue … unmistakable. He’s got eyes that colour. Rare, you know, deep, darkish blue, and my goodness can he flash them when he’s in a rage. There’s not a man in the Company who would dare cross the Peacock. That can be very useful.
I know he’ll take care of everything while I’m away.

Why, if it wasn’t for the Peacock I wouldn’t be here now. Dursn’t be.

I’d have to be back there. You’ve no idea how wrong things can go.

”

“So you can trust this Peacock?”

“Seeing the closeness of our relationship, I reckon I can.”

Who is he then? “

“Josslyn Madden. Known as Joss or otherwise the Peacock. His mother was a very great friend of mine. Oh yes, a very great friend. She was a beautiful woman, Julia Madden was. There wasn’t a man in the camp who didn’t fancy her. Jock Madden was a poor fish who ought never to have been out there. Couldn’t manage a job or hold a woman. Julia and I were very fond of each other. And when young Joss came along there wasn’t a shadow of doubt. Old Jock was incapable of getting children anyway.”

“You mean this Peacock is your son?”

That’s about it. ” Ben began to laugh.

“I’ll never forget the day. All of seven he was. I’d built Peacocks at that time … it might have been about five years before. I’d got

the peacocks on the lawn and the house had its name. Julia used to come over to see me. She was thinking of leaving Jock and coming for good. Then one day on the way over her horse fell; she was thrown and the fall killed her. Jock married again. She was a tyrant, that one. No one would have her, even though there was a shortage of women, so she took Jock because he didn’t know how to say no. Caught proper, he was. Our young Peacock didn’t like the household at all, so he promptly packed a bag and one day there he was walking across the lawn, frightening the peacocks, marching along like any swagman. They brought him to me, and he told me: ” I’m going to live here now for ever. ” Not, may I? but I am! That was Joss Madden aged seven and that’s Joss Madden today. He makes up his mind what he wants and that’s how it’s going to be.”

“You’re fond of him, Ben. I can see you admire him.”

“He’s my son … and Julia’s. I can see old Ben in him in lots of ways. There’s nothing makes you admire people like seeing yourself in them.”

“So he stayed at Peacocks and he became so vain that people called him the Peacock, and he’s ruthless and he’s your son.”

Thafs about the ticket’ “And is he one of those about whom you say he claims you as his father when you grew rich?”

“At seven I don’t know how knowledgeable he was about wealth. I think perhaps he just hated his home and liked the peacocks. He paid more attention to them than he did to me. He used to strut round the lawns with them. Then he became fascinated by opals particularly those with the peacock colourings. He took an interest right from the start and when Joss takes an interest it’s a big one. I know the place is safe with him. He could soon manage it all without my help. But the urge comes over me to be out there. Sometimes I dream I’m there … going down the shaft… down, down into the underground chambers .. and there I am with my candle and the roof a mass of gems … lovely opal flashing red, green and gold … and right at the heart of it another Green Flash.”

“It’s unlucky, Ben,” I said.

“I don’t want any harm to come to you.

You’re rich. You’ve got Oakland. What does it matter about the Green Flash ? “

I’ll tell you one of the nicest things I’ve found since I lost the Flash,” he answered.

“Well, that’s you.”

We didn’t speak for some time. We just stumped along

the gallery, but he had started misgivings in my mind and I knew the day would come when he would go away.

Sometimes I used to feel that there wasn’t much time. If Ben went away I should no longer have an excuse for visiting the Hall, and there was so much I wanted to know before that happened.

I had learned a little about opals and how they were gouged from the earth. I had my own mental picture of the roaring camps he had talked of and the lives of the people who lived in them; I could picture the excitement when a brilliant gem was discovered; but I had learned more than that.

There was nothing Mrs. Bucket liked more than for me to go down to her kitchen, and I always made a point of doing this. I had discovered how little I knew of my own family and I often thought that Miriam, Xavier and my parents were like shadow figures moving about in a dimly lighted room;

the lights had been dimmed when my father’s gambling lost them Oakland Hall.

Mrs. Bucket’s main delight was to cook little delicacies for me so that I could compare them with the kind of fare Mrs. Cobb put on our table.

I think she had a kind of guilt complex because she had not gone with us to the Dower House. She liked to talk about the past, and from her I learned that Mr. Xavier had been a ‘bright little fellow.

“Mind you, at the time of the trouble he was getting his education. He liked my cooking. Used to call me Food Bucket.” She purred and shook her head.

“Nothing disrespectful, mind.

“Of course you’re Food Bucket,” he used to say. “because nobody can make food taste like you do.” Eat. He could eat. Miss Miriam could be a little tartar now and then. When she was a little thing I caught her more than once stealing the sugar. Fifteen years old she was when she came to me and she said:

“Mrs. Bucket; we’ve got to leave Oakland.” And she was near to crying, she was-and I don’t mind telling j you I was too. Now, Miss Jessica”

What a deep silence there was before Hannah said: “Have you made those currant buns for tea, Mrs. Bucket?1 ” Who was Jessica? ” I asked.

Mrs. Bucket looked at Hannah and then she burst out:

“What’s the good of all this pretending? You can’t keep that sort of thing dark forever.”

Tell me,” I demanded rather imploringly, as though I were an Oakland-bred dave ring ‘who was Jessica ?” ;

There was another daughter,” said Mrs. Bucket almost defiantly.

“She came between Miriam and Xavier.”

“And she was called Jessica ?” I went on.

Hannah bowed her head. It was tantamount to agreement “Why is there this secrecy?”

They were silent again, and I burst out: “It’s all rather foolish.”

Hannah said sharply; “You’ll know in time. Ifs not for us…”

I looked at Mrs. Bucket appealingly.

“You know,” I said.

“Why shouldn’t I? What happened to this Jessica?”

“She died,” said Mrs. Bucket.

“When she was very young ?” I asked.

“It was after they left Oakland,” Hannah told me, ‘so we wouldn’t know much about it. “

“She was older than Miriam, and Miriam was fifteen when they left,” I prompted.

“About seventeen,” said Hannah, ‘but it’s not for us . Mrs. Bucket shouldn’t have. “

“I’ll do what I like in my own kitchen,” said Mrs. Bucket.

This is no kitchen matter, “protested Hannah.

“I’ll thank you not to be impudent to me, Hannah Gooding.”

I could see that they were making a quarrel of this to avoid telling me. But I was going to find out. I was determined on that.

I left the Hall and went to the churchyard and looked at all the graves. There was only one Jessica Oavering among them, and she had died about a hundred years before at the ripe age of seventy years.

Then I went to the Waste Land. There it was-the grave and the plaque engraved with her name and the date Ju . 1880.

So this is where they buried you, Jessica,” I murmured.

3.

A LETTER FROM THB DEAD

The next day when I was sitting by the stream Hannah appeared on the other side of it, carrying a package.

“I wanted to speak to you. Miss Clavering,” she said.

“All right, Hannah. I’ll come over.” As I crossed the bridge I noticed how solemn she was looking.

6x “I’ve been thinking the time has come for me to give you this,” she said.

“What is it?” ( “Ifs something that was given to me to be given to you when the time came or on your twenty-first birthday-which ever came first, and I reckon, after all that’s been said, that the time is now.”

I took the packet which she thrust into my hands.

What is it? ” I repeated.

“It’s writing. It was written to you and given to me When ? And who gave it to you ?”

“It’s all in there. I hope I’ve done what was right She hesitated for a moment, her brow puckered in consternation then she turned and hurried across the bridge, leaving me standing there with the large envelope in my hands. I opened it and pulled out several sheets of paper on which someone had written in dear neat writing.