‘Unfortunately my daughter will not agree – and one word of caution from me would have her more determined than ever. Let us hope Lionel can dissuade her, for he is the only one she listens to for advice.’
Clarice heard the bitter note in her sister’s voice and eyed her sharply. ‘Is Gwendoline proving difficult?’
Eunice bit her lip. ‘Gwen has always been difficult,’ she said flatly. ‘She’s too much like her father, and between the pair of them I am run ragged.’
‘I didn’t realise …’
Eunice shrugged and twirled her parasol. ‘We have both married men who are dedicated to their careers and masculine pleasures. I learnt long ago to accept that and make the best of things.’ Her expression became wistful. ‘I had hoped my only child would favour me more, but it seems she’s as wilful and selfish as Lionel when it comes to getting her own way.’
Clarice saw the hurt in her sister’s eyes and felt ashamed. ‘You’ve listened to my woes, and yet I didn’t even notice how unhappy you are.’
Eunice blinked against the sun. ‘All women seem to share an aptitude for hiding their feelings behind a mask of manners and social etiquette. It is only when we are alone or with those closest to us that we dare admit to the truth.’ She turned to Clarice, her dark eyes brimming. ‘I have so longed for Gwen to love me – but it seems I have failed as a mother, and I no longer like or even understand my own child.’
‘Oh, Eunice,’ Clarice sighed.
‘It’s my own fault,’ she admitted, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘I was so delighted Lionel was bewitched by his daughter that I let him spoil her. The child worships him, is blind to his faults and regards me almost as an interloper. She tolerates my presence only when he is away, but her temper tantrums leave me trembling.’
‘A good smack on the bottom might cure her,’ said Clarice drily.
Eunice gave a watery smile. ‘Don’t think I haven’t resorted to that – but it only leads to days of sulking, and now she’s almost thirteen, she’s far too old to be smacked.’
Clarice didn’t agree, but kept silent. ‘Perhaps Lionel should discipline her,’ she suggested gently.
‘She’s all smiles when he’s around, so he never sees her at her worst. He refuses to believe his darling daughter can do any wrong, despite what I say,’ she finished bitterly.
‘It’s a pity she didn’t go back to London for her education,’ muttered Clarice. ‘That would have taught her discipline, if nothing else.’
‘Lionel refused to send her away.’ Eunice sat down in the shade of the arbour and took a glass of chilled lemonade. ‘God,’ she sighed, ‘I hate this place. I wish I could go home.’
‘Me too. But we are stuck here until our husbands have to leave, so we must make the best of it.’ She raised her glass of lemonade and took a sip. ‘At least you married for love, Eunice,’ she said wistfully, ‘and that must be of some comfort to you.’
Eunice drank from the crystal glass, her expression unreadable. ‘I suppose it must,’ she replied.
Clarice was about to question her when Lionel appeared at the end of the garden with Gwendoline clinging to his arm. He was as dashing and handsome as ever, making Clarice’s pulse quicken, but because of Eunice’s revelations, her gaze was drawn from him to the girl at his side. She was dressed in pink and white muslin with a fetching straw hat perched on her dark curls. She was tall and slender, and even from a distance, it was clear she was destined to be beautiful.
As Clarice watched them approach, she realised they were totally absorbed in one another, Lionel laughing at what she was saying, Gwendoline looking up at him in adoration. She experienced a pang of jealousy. No wonder Eunice felt so shut out in their company.
‘Good afternoon, Aunt Clarice,’ said Gwendoline, her brown curls bobbing as she curtsied. ‘I’ve just been to visit Sabre, and Daddy says I may ride him if you give permission.’ She fluttered her eyelashes, her brown eyes wide with appeal. ‘Please say yes, Aunt Clarice – you know how much your approval means to me.’
Clarice noticed how the girl ignored Eunice’s greeting, and was not inclined to be swayed by her overeagerness and flattery. ‘You must ask Uncle Algernon for permission,’ she said coolly. ‘Sabre is his horse.’
The girl shrugged, continued to ignore Eunice and looked up at Lionel with a pout. ‘You’ll ask him, won’t you, Daddy?’
‘Of course, my sweet.’ Lionel grinned and kissed the air above Clarice’s fingers, his eyes full of laughter. ‘It seems I cannot deny my daughter anything,’ he said, ‘even though Sabre is probably far too much to handle for such a delicate little girl.’
Clarice bit down on the sharp retort. Gwendoline might be slender, but that slight frame hid a core of steel honed from many hours on horseback. As for being a little girl … There was a spark of womanly wile in her eyes that was quite shocking for one not quite thirteen, and Clarice could see trouble looming. She raised an eyebrow at his preposterous statement and was saved from commenting by the arrival of Algernon with the last of their guests.
She felt strangely calm as his indifferent gaze swept over her and he introduced the finance minister and his wife. Eunice’s confidences and Gwendoline’s wiles had given her something far more important to worry about than the lack of corsets and petticoats.
*
Clarice gave up on sleep and threw the bedclothes aside. She slid her feet into her slippers and drew on the fleecy dressing gown over her nightdress. It was not quite dawn, she realised, as she drew back the curtains, but the scent of honeysuckle drifted up to her through the open window and she breathed it in with less pleasure than usual.
That day, so long ago and on the other side of the world, had been the start of her defiance of Algernon. She had never worn a corset or gloves again, except at evening receptions and balls, and had taken to reading every book and newspaper she could find – hiding them from Algernon in a bedroom drawer.
With Eunice beside her, she had attended concerts, tea parties and afternoon soirees where poets read their work or the guests were entertained by musicians. They had been small rebellions really, but they had taken a great deal of courage for one who’d been raised by a father who demanded strict adherence to his rule.
Clarice gave a wry smile. Those challenges to Algernon’s control had seemed so daring back then, but the young people of today would see them as trifling, for no modern woman would put up with such male dominance. And yet she didn’t envy them the independence they championed, for although it had given some of them the vote and the freedom to pursue their own careers, she suspected that this bright new world was far harder to fathom than the old one – and that the breaking down of social barriers and tradition left many women vulnerable to an uncertain future.
She pulled the dressing gown closer and shivered despite the mild dawn. Until that moment all those years ago she had never been mistress of her own destiny – there had always been a master to pave the way. She had learnt at great cost that freedom was a heady thing – that taken too lightly it could corrupt; and although none of them suspected it on that summer’s day in Sydney, the dark clouds of that corruption were already gathering.
Tasmania
The September day had begun well. Tasmania’s Spreyton Park racetrack was bustling with noise and colour and the owners from Hobart had seen their three-year-old filly win the open handicap and were richly rewarded for their long journey when their colt came in a surprising third in the top-class Plate Handicap.
Joe left them to their celebrations and headed for the stables, where Bob was preparing to ride Starstruck in the Maiden Plate. It would be the colt’s first outing in Tasmania, and, as Bob was still an apprentice, could claim six pounds in weight.
‘He’s looking good,’ Joe murmured, ‘but he’s got fair competition this afternoon, so don’t give him his head too soon.’ He glanced across at the handsome gelding being led from a nearby stall, and nodded a greeting to his weasel-faced trainer. ‘If Holt�
�s here, he expects to win,’ he muttered, ‘so keep your wits about you and watch out for his jockey. He’s likely to cause mischief.’
Bob, resplendent in green, white and orange silks, gathered up the reins and tried to appear as relaxed as the other jockeys, but Joe could see he was sweating as much as the colt. ‘Just do your best, mate,’ he said, ‘Starstruck will do the rest.’
‘She ain’t come then?’ Bob glanced swiftly at the crowd in the enclosure, clearly disappointed at not seeing Eliza.
Joe shook his head. ‘This is small beer compared to what they expect from Starstruck,’ he said, ‘but if he wins this, Eliza and her dad will probably come to the meeting down in Hobart.’
Bob visibly relaxed and nudged the colt into a walk. ‘Catch ya later,’ he said, as he headed for the starting line on the far side of the course.
Joe dug his hands in his pockets and studied the colt as Bob eased him into a gentle canter. Starstruck was moving well and had a real chance today if Bob didn’t get overexcited and forget everything he knew.
‘Hello, Joe.’
He turned, pulse racing at the sound of her voice. ‘Penny,’ he managed, ‘what are you doing here?’
‘I’m with Dad and Alec. We’ve got a filly in the next race.’
Joe noted how the sun sparked gold in her hair and eyelashes, and how her eyes seemed a deeper hazel than he remembered. He tugged his hat, glad she couldn’t see the other side of his face. ‘How are you?’ he asked tentatively.
‘Good,’ she replied, ‘and you? How are you coping at Galway House?’
Joe tore his gaze away and pretended to study the racetrack. Seeing her after so long wasn’t as easy as he’d thought it would be. ‘We’ve got ten horses now, with another due to arrive at the end of the month. I’ve had to take on two more jackaroos, and a girl to help Ma with the cooking. I seem to spend a lot of time trying to persuade the better jockeys to ride for us.’
‘You shouldn’t have to try too hard after today,’ she murmured. ‘Looks like you’ve got some good runners.’
‘I’ve been lucky so far.’ He glanced at her and looked away. The awkward silence lengthened between them.
‘I hear you’ve got Lorelei Pearson’s colt in training. Dad and I were surprised you wanted to do business with that family.’
Joe frowned as he looked down at her. ‘How do you know Miss Pearson? She lives in England, and as far as I know, has no connection with Tasmania.’
‘I’ve never met the woman, but she certainly has connections here – I know her mother all too well.’ Her lips curled in distaste.
‘Her mother lives here?’
‘Unfortunately. Gwendoline Cole has a smallholding out near Poatina.’
He couldn’t fail to notice the contempt in her voice and tried to put his whirling thoughts in order. ‘Who is this woman, and what has she done to earn your scorn?’
Her eyes widened. ‘Good God, Joe, you’ve lived in Tasmania all your life – don’t you know anything?’
He could see the runners and riders preparing to gather at the starting line and became impatient. He didn’t have time for Penny’s games. ‘I don’t listen to gossip,’ he said tersely. ‘I have better things to do.’
‘It’s not gossip, Joe. It’s hard facts, and if I had a spare week I’d list them.’ She glanced over his shoulder. ‘Talk of the devil,’ she hissed, ‘that’s her, over there.’
His curiosity got the better of him and he followed her gaze to the woman standing by the railings. She was younger than he’d expected, but brassy, with glossy brown hair and a slim figure swathed in a fur coat. There was a man at her side and there was little doubt she was flirting with him, looking at him with wide eyes as he lit her cigarette, holding his hand to steady the flame, and laughing up into his face. If that was Miss Pearson’s mother, then he’d made a serious error of judgement as to her age. ‘Are you sure?’
Penny’s gaze raked the other woman. ‘No doubt about it,’ she said sourly. ‘All fur coat and probably no underwear, if her reputation’s anything to go by. I wonder who the poor sap is she’s latched on to now.’ She turned back to Joe, her expression grim. ‘Probably someone’s husband – that’s her usual target. If the daughter’s anything like the mother, I’d run a mile if I was you, Joe. Gwendoline Cole is a cheat and a liar, and likes nothing better than causing trouble.’
Joe’s earlier high spirits plunged as he remembered the strangeness surrounding Ocean Child’s ownership and how he’d come to the yard through the mysterious Mr Carmichael. If Penny’s judgement was true, then his initial suspicions were confirmed. Someone was out to make trouble. ‘You seem very certain, Penny. Perhaps you should explain.’
‘My sister had the misfortune to come up against her on the showjumping circuit. Gwen was in second place to Julia going into the final jump-off. She cost Julia the championships by accusing her of stealing a gold bracelet. She hadn’t, of course, but the bracelet was found among Julia’s tack and there was no way to disprove it.’
She tossed back her shoulder-length hair and dug her hands into the pockets of her coat. ‘My sister hasn’t competed since. Mud sticks, and in a small place like this there are always those who like to believe the worst.’
Joe glanced back at Gwendoline Cole. She had linked arms with her companion and they were both slightly unsteady as they weaved their way to the beer tent. It was clear it wasn’t their first visit, and although Joe wasn’t a prude, he didn’t like to see any woman the worse for drink. ‘I’m sorry about Julia,’ he murmured, ‘but I have no reason to believe Miss Pearson is anything like her mother.’
‘I’m not saying she is,’ she replied, ‘but I’ve given you fair warning, Joe. Watch your back.’
‘You make it all sound very dramatic,’ he said with a lightness he didn’t feel. ‘Surely no one can be painted quite so black?’
‘Hmph. You obviously have no idea just how devious she can be.’ She cocked her head and looked up at him. ‘Ask your mother, if you don’t believe me.’
‘Ma?’ He stared at her in amazement. ‘What on earth has she got to do with Gwendoline Cole?’
Penny shrugged. ‘I don’t really know,’ she confessed, ‘it was just something Dad said once, but it was about the past and I wasn’t really listening. You know how he goes on.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I must go. Alec will be waiting for me.’
Joe caught sight of the diamond on her finger. ‘Do I take it congratulations are in order?’ His voice was rough with emotion, all thoughts of Miss Pearson and her mother erased by the knowledge he had finally and irrevocably lost her.
Penny blushed and refused to meet his gaze. ‘Alec and I are getting married in December,’ she said softly. She put a placatory hand on his arm. ‘I’m sorry, Joe.’
He swallowed, but his mouth was dry and it was painful. Alec Freeman had come home from France unscathed, and was making his name as a champion jockey. Joe and he had once shared a school desk, and he’d lost his collection of cigarette cards to him in a silly bet, but he’d never expected to lose his girl to him. ‘Congratulations,’ he managed. ‘Alec’s a bonzer bloke. I hope you’ll be very happy.’
Her smile said it all as she turned to leave, and Joe felt the same deep sadness he’d suffered two years before, and wondered if he would ever get over her.
*
Starstruck came home a nose behind Holt’s flashy gelding, and seemed very pleased with his achievement. No one could silence an exuberant Bob, who insisted upon recounting every detail of the race to whoever might listen. It was only when Joe threatened to lock him in the dunny and leave him there that he shut up.
The celebrations went on long after the last race and it was dark by the time the jackaroos had got the horses loaded into the two floats. They drove back in convoy, for in the likely event that the second truck broke down, all hands would be needed to get it going again.
Molly came to greet them as they entered the yard. She waved away the clouds of exhaus
t fumes and pulled a face. ‘It’s time you spent some money and got decent transport,’ she said crossly. ‘It’s not as if you can’t afford it.’
‘I agree,’ Joe said as he climbed out of the utility and stretched. ‘That old boneshaker’s about had it.’
‘So has that float.’ She sniffed. ‘It looks ridiculous beside Eliza’s.’
It certainly did, and Joe had already begun making enquiries about purchasing a new one. The reputation of the yard was paramount – it wasn’t good business to turn up at the racetracks with dubious transport. He helped unload the horses, looked over the vehicles for any damage done by the drive and left Bob to regale the stable hands once again with the detailed account of the race he’d almost won as they settled them in for the night.
He wandered along the line of boxes as he did every evening, checking the horses and making a fuss of them by giving them an apple or a carrot. Ocean Child tossed his head in anticipation, and Joe patted his nose as the apple was snaffled from his hand. The colt would have his third race in four weeks’ time, and it seemed the youngster had never been in better shape. What Miss Pearson would think of him was anyone’s guess – but having talked to Penny today, and seen her mother, he dreaded her arrival.
Satisfied that all was well in the yard, he headed for the house. Molly was busy in the kitchen, and the smell of roast pork and potatoes made his mouth water. He hadn’t eaten much all day and realised he was ravenous. ‘When’s tea?’
‘In about half an hour,’ she said, as she basted the joint. ‘The boys will have finished in the yard by then, and no doubt sobered up as well.’ She lifted lids on saucepans, tugged damp tendrils of hair from her hot face and finally sat down. ‘I’ll be glad when Dianne starts work tomorrow – it’s all getting a bit much with so many to feed.’
Dianne lived on a neighbouring cattle station. The youngest daughter of six, she’d left school a few months before with little qualification for anything. ‘She’s a good kid, but not very bright,’ muttered Joe. ‘Are you sure she won’t be more of a hindrance?’
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