It would have been an ideal place to pause for contemplation; to perhaps revel in the memory of a beautiful, river-soaked girl and even turn this wagon south, if only he hadn’t allowed the suddenly gold-obsessed Dave to come along at the last minute. Instead he’d been incessantly badgered by his mate to join him on the goldfields a good part of the way, although Dave’s campaign had been generously interspersed with almost every limerick, sea shanty and dirty joke known to mankind. Kieran’s plans to have a quiet overnight camp had predictably been hijacked and he’d spent a rowdy night in a pub called The Scotch Thistle Inn with Dave instead.
His head was still thumping from yet another hangover but he had to admit it’d been worth it to watch Dave get up and sing with the band, prancing about in his green waistcoat. There was no way to censor him, of course, and the publican had been laughing so hard he didn’t even attempt to stop it, not even when Dave sang his own version of ‘Randy Dandy O’.
Kieran was able to enjoy a little peace and quiet now though, with Dave fast asleep in the back, and he didn’t attempt to wake him as the first sight of the western plains came into view. Dave wasn’t much of a one for appreciating nature anyway, unless it came in a dress. The tablelands stretched out before them in glorious invitation beneath a vast blue sky, extending as far as the eye could see. It reminded him of the vista from the shed back home in some ways, although the sunlight here seemed different, like someone had turned up a giant lantern. The green was paler and some of the areas were covered in a soft yellow hue, which Dave actually might have been interested to see, undoubtedly considering golden fields a good sign.
He could see the small town of Lithgow below, then open country beyond, leading to land unexplored and unnamed by Europeans. Beyond it they’d find Bathurst and eventually the fastgrowing town of Orange. My new home, Kieran reflected, well, for now, anyway, his heart added as Eve’s face flashed by once more. But then the enormity of this moment soaked through, and he gave in to the dream he’d been holding onto all those months back in Ireland. Clancy land. Clancy owned.
The west looked wild and untamed from up here, an expansive frontier filled with possibilities, and that wondrous feeling consumed him once more, the one that had been building these past few months. It washed through him with force as he took it all in; a heady mix of excitement, wonder, gratitude and anticipation. Kieran felt an overwhelming need to express it and found himself whistling the last song he’d heard.
The sound awoke Dave and he climbed over to sit beside him with a grin.
‘You know you just can’t whistle a sea shanty, Kier.’
Kieran grinned back and soon both men were singing at the top of their lungs.
Soon we’ll be warping her out through the locks,
Way, ay, roll an’ go!
Where the pretty young gals all pull up their frocks,
To be rollickin’ randy dandy O!
‘Just two more for the road,’ Dave said, holding up his fingers to the barman. ‘You said yourself it’s only a few miles away.’
‘We’ve been travelling all bloody day and I just want to get there,’ Kieran said, running his hands through his hair and putting his cap back on, although he had to admit the beer tasted pretty damn good after all the dust along the road for hundreds of miles.
‘Go on,’ Dave coaxed and Kieran relented.
‘May as well make some friends while we’re here, I suppose,’ Kieran muttered, looking around at the building crowd. This was a country pub and it looked to have stricter rules than the ones he was used to back in The Rocks. For one thing, it was men only, although there was a women’s parlour next door. Kieran wondered how Eileen felt about the segregation after being able to go to the public bar with men and women alike back home, then he wondered if she even went out these days with the baby nearly due. The thought made him want to leave sooner but Dave was handing him another ale and he supposed it wouldn’t really hurt to stay for one more, especially as Dave was now working on that ‘making friends’ idea.
‘Well, we heard there was gold in Orange and looks like we found it!’ he was saying to a group of locals who laughed as he held up his ale in the late sunlight. ‘Although I don’t understand what you were thinking naming the place after the wrong colour!’
‘We don’t even grow oranges, this here’s apple country,’ one man told him and Dave seemed to think that a grand joke.
‘Where are you lads headed then?’ asked another.
‘Kieran here’s off for home but I’m going over to Ophir to find me fortune.’
‘Let me know if you find mine. I’ve been diggin’ for weeks with barely anything to show for it.’
His friend rolled his eyes. ‘I keep telling you, mate, we need to go to Victoria! They’re picking nuggets up off the ground in Ballarat.’
‘Where’s that then?’ Dave asked, interested.
‘Near Melbourne,’ the man replied. Kieran was interested then too.
The conversation flowed fast from there on, along with the ale, and by the time the sun was approaching the horizon Kieran already felt at home in his new town.
‘You must be keen to get to your farm, lad,’ said the apple farmer, whom the others had introduced as ‘Seedy’ George. He was actually a pretty nice fellow, just a little apple obsessed, which made a change from most of the others who shared in Dave’s gold fever.
‘Aye, and I should have been standing on it by now, only this thirsty bastard’s trying to corrupt me with liquid temptation,’ Kieran said, taking an ale from Dave’s hands as he passed yet another round along.
‘You could always say no,’ suggested Al, who they’d been told was Seedy’s nephew.
‘True, true, he could do that, young Al, but for an Irishman saying no to a drink is like saying no to a woman,’ Dave announced to the group at large. ‘Your brain gives off a warning but your body tends to disagree.’
‘But surely your brain fills you with regret the next day,’ Al said. ‘Don’t you ever learn your lesson?’
‘Aye, well I would but you see the fecken thing can’t remember what it should be regretting,’ Dave said, tapping his forehead, and the surrounding group roared in appreciation.
The late afternoon fell to dusk among other such merriment and someone began to play the fiddle, which had Dave hopping about singing in no time.
I am a true-born Irish man
I’ll never deny what I am
I was born in old Tipperary town
Three thousand miles away
‘We really had better go,’ Kieran called out to him but he was shouted down by the crowd.
‘Nuh, let him finish!’ Seedy protested and Kieran couldn’t help but enjoy the rest.
Hooray my boys, hooray
No more do I wish for to roam
The sun it will shine in the harvest time
To welcome Paddy home
The kookaburras were making a loud racket in the gums and Eileen listened and watched, still fascinated by their late afternoon ritual after all these months. Such strange-looking birds they were, almost ugly compared to the brilliantly coloured parrots that often landed upon the rail. The ‘kookies’ were her favourite, however, with their raucous laughter and strangely loyal ways towards each other; they were families, not flocks, and Eileen could relate to that.
She’d become rather superstitious of their behaviour, often looking for signals from them as she sat and watched from her chair, her eyes drawn over and again to that place on the road whenever they would break into song or land on the welcome sign at the gate. She’d been quite hopeful this morning when one had tapped at her window and looked quizzically inside, and she’d wondered if this was the day Kieran would finally come. More likely the bird was looking for crumbs from the bread tin that she sometimes threw when no-one was looking. Rory, in particular, would tease her for spoiling wild birds in such a manner.
She’d felt particularly hot today, although Liam had said the frost had been thick on the gr
ass, but perhaps it was just the baby making her warmer than usual. It was certainly making her more uncomfortable. Eileen stood to lift the hair off her neck and stretch her back, kneading at the soreness on her hip that oft played up this late into her pregnancies. It made it harder to sleep. Harder to do most things, in fact.
‘Thomas! James! Matthew!’ she called, shielding her eyes from the lengthening rays as she searched for them. They didn’t answer but she could see them playing on the wood pile that she’d told them several times to stay clear of since Liam had told her about the giant brown snake he’d seen nearby.
She sent up a prayer to St Patrick as she watched the children, wishing he were still alive to drive the serpents out of here as he’d purportedly done in Ireland.
‘Come on home now!’ she called but they still ignored her, despite being well within earshot. ‘Of all the living saints,’ she grumbled, making her way carefully down the stairs and across towards them. The pain in her hip was worsening and she muttered something less religious and more unladylike under her breath.
Thomas was climbing to the top of the pile, a stick in hand as he declared war on his brothers. ‘…an’ if you don’t do as I say I’ll have ye walk the plank!’
‘I wanna walk the plank!’ James yelled.
‘Me too!’ Matthew joined in and the younger two giggled as Thomas clambered down and raced towards them.
‘I’ll have ye for that, ye scurvy blighters!’
Eileen paused, out of breath and blinking back pain now, as the boys ran about and she could scarcely get the words out to call. ‘Boys! Come up home for your tea.’
‘Aw, but Ma, we have t’kill the sea beast first!’ James complained.
‘There’s no…no beasts about except the ones I’m looking at. Now come up for tea and no more of your nonsense.’
‘Are you alright there, Ma?’ Thomas said, pausing.
Eileen grimaced, trying to hide the hurt from him. ‘Aye…I just…’
‘Look!’ Matthew interrupted, pointing. ‘It is a beastie.’
‘It’s a serpent!’ James exclaimed, staring transfixed as a brown snake moved from the pile right where Thomas had been standing only moments before.
‘Oh dear lord…run!’ Eileen screamed and the boys took off, startled by her panic, and she tried her best to follow. Unlike most local snakes this breed was notoriously aggressive and her hip seared in agonised protest as she lumbered after her children, too terrified to do otherwise. It seemed miles instead of yards to the porch and then the door, and Thomas closed it behind her quickly as she collapsed against the table, recognising other pains now.
‘Ma…?’
‘Get your da,’ she grated out, leaning heavily on other furniture as she dragged her body towards the bed. James ran out with Thomas to the south paddock where Rory and Liam were working but Matthew stood transfixed, his little face afraid as Eileen blinked to focus on it.
‘Get my vials from the medicine chest, me love, then go…go and do your letters for y’teacher.’
‘But Miss Backside’s away, Ma.’
‘Black…slide,’ she corrected, vaguely registering the irony of the words as her world turned dark.
There was no moon tonight, the stars providing the only light as the horse thundered down the track towards town and Liam prayed to God he wouldn’t fall off and break his neck, focusing hard on the approaching town lights. Something was wrong; he didn’t need to note the empty apothecary bottles and the desperation on Rory’s face to know that much. The pouring sweat on his sister’s pale countenance and her cries of pain told him all he needed to know: his sister had a fever and the baby was coming. Fast.
The main pub was in the full throes of a party that rang down the street but Liam galloped past towards the doctor’s house nearby, unheeding as someone called out his name until he realised he recognised the tone. One he knew all too well.
‘Kieran?’ he called back, slowing his mount to turn around and stare at the sight of his brother stumbling out of the pub and swaying in the middle of the street in disbelief.
‘When did…?’ He jumped down as Kieran ran towards him and they embraced, Kieran all smiles until he looked Liam in the face.
‘What is it?’ Kieran asked immediately. ‘Eileen?’
‘Aye, she’s having the baby but she’s…I’m not sure but something’s wrong. She has a fever.’
‘A…a fever?’
‘I’m here to fetch the doctor. Come on.’
Kieran followed Liam as they ran over to the doctor’s house, a man by the name of Sherman who Liam had met a few times now. Liam knocked hard on the door and he was knocking again by the time an older woman answered, the doctor’s wife.
‘Sorry to trouble you, ma’am, but we need Dr Sherman to come,’ Liam began. ‘Our sister…’
‘He’s not here,’ she interrupted him. ‘I’m afraid he’s gone to Ophir. A bunch of miners have come down with scarlet fever, bless them,’ she added, making the sign of the cross.
‘Shite,’ Kieran muttered before apologising. ‘Sorry, ma’am.’
‘What of Mrs Jenkins or Mrs Kershaw?’ Liam asked.
‘Over at Ophir too, I’m afraid. One poor woman’s been in labour for two days with twins, so I’ve heard.’
Liam bit his lip from swearing again. They were the town’s only two midwives. ‘Is there any other doctor around tonight?’
‘Only Dr Sloane,’ she replied, looking doubtful, as well she might. The man was a notoriously snobbish Yorkshireman and was known for regarding the Irish in town as beneath him, rarely treating them. Liam had never met him, but he knew when he did he’d need every ounce of intelligence and charm he’d ever possessed to come to the fore.
‘Thank you, ma’am,’ Liam said and she closed the door. ‘Shite, shite, shite,’ he muttered, unleashing his own frustration now.
‘What’s the problem?’ Kieran said, stumbling slightly. ‘If he’s a doctor let’s just go and get him.’
Liam looked at his inebriated brother, knowing he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear. ‘You can’t come with me for this, Kier. Make your way home and I’ll meet you there.’
‘What d’you mean I can’t come with you?’
‘Just that. You’ll have to trust me on this one.’
Kieran stared at him, frowning. ‘I’ll shut my mouth if that’s what you’re worried about.’
The pub party echoed in the night and Liam paused, considering. ‘You’re going to have to promise me on that. The man’s gentry, or some such guff, and he hates the likes of us.’
‘I’ll no’ say a word. I promise.’
Liam sighed, wondering if that was possible, but there was no time to argue and he strode down to the end of the street with Kieran towards Dr Sloane’s newly constructed fine house, considering what he’d say carefully. Kieran knocked this time and Liam took a deep breath, Eileen’s pale face paramount in his mind.
Conversation could be heard and the tinkling of glasses as the door opened.
‘…and leave room for the brandy, Niles. Yes, what is it?’
Dr Sloane had answered the door himself, dressed in an evening suit and seemingly unimpressed at the interruption. Liam looked at the face of the man who could potentially mean the difference between his sister and her baby’s lives, wondering if that would be enough for him to leave what was, obviously, his own dinner party.
‘We’re sorry to trouble you, sir,’ Liam said, trying to force out the brogue from his accent, ‘but it’s our sister. She’s having her baby but…’
‘First time?’ he all but barked.
‘No, sir, her fourth.’
‘Oh, for goodness sake.’
A woman entered the hall, elegantly attired and holding a champagne glass. ‘What’s going on, Charles? Are you being called out?’
‘No, no. Serve dessert, Elizabeth, and I’ll be along shortly.’ She left and he turned back to Liam, impatience etched on his features now. ‘I’m sure your siste
r will be fine.’
‘But…but you see she’s got a fever…’ Liam tried again.
The doctor sighed, looking over them both before speaking again. ‘It’s no use fearing the worst. She’s probably just heated from the exertion, which is quite common, I assure you.’
‘No, sir, but…’
‘Women have babies every day and if she’s brought three others into the world there’s hardly anything here to worry about.’
‘Yes, however this time she…’
‘…will be perfectly fine as well.’
He looked to be closing the door on them and Liam tried again. ‘Please, doctor…’
The pleading in his tone seemed to annoy the man then, or perhaps it was just the brogue, after all. ‘I’m sure your sister will do well enough with whatever midwives you have in your clan.’ He said the last with a trace of contempt and Liam felt his own eyes narrow as Kieran stepped forward, breaking his silence.
‘What do y’mean by…’
‘We’ve no-one with us to help her, doctor,’ Liam interrupted him. ‘Mrs Jenkins and Mrs Kershaw are both over at Ophir and we would very much appreciate your professional help and expertise. I’m told you’re a very experienced and learned physician; the best in town.’
‘I’m the only doctor in town tonight, as you’re obviously aware, but otherwise engaged, I’m afraid. Go home and make sure your sister has plenty of fluids to keep her strength up. And for goodness sake don’t just stand about saying your Hail Marys – get her to push when the time’s right.’
‘How will we know when that is?’
‘If it’s her fourth baby, she’ll know well enough.’ He began to really shut the door then and Liam looked at Kieran, at a loss what else to do, which prompted his brother to put his foot in the way of it closing.
‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ the doctor demanded.
‘Just making sure you have all the facts,’ Kieran said forcefully, but his stance was a little unsteady.
‘Wetting the baby’s head already, are you? Typical,’ the doctor said with disgust. ‘Get your blasted foot out of my door and go home to sleep it off, Paddy.’
In a Great Southern Land Page 15