An Uncommon Woman

by Nicole Alexander

  ‘Do you need some help?’ Will was beside her, offering a hand.

  Edwina stemmed the bile rising in her throat. Hadn’t he caused her enough trouble already? She steadied herself, ignoring the man and then, standing carefully, stepped shakily behind the curtained area. There had indeed been something strong and sweet in the tea she’d drunk. It helped clear her head, but just the same, Edwina leant on a chair for support while dressing. Her head ached terribly and she’d been sick twice after Will found her; Edwina recalled that at least. The attack itself was a haze. The hit on the head, being dragged across the ground, that was quite clear. She dry-retched.

  ‘If you’re going to be sicking-up again,’ the older woman sighed, ‘do it outside. If there’s one thing I can’t abide it’s sick. Takes a day to get the stink out of the place it does.’

  Through the flimsy partition the outline of the thief and the fat lady appeared very close. A kerosene lamp accentuated their silhouettes wavering on the canvas wall of the tent. Edwina emerged, dressed but shaky.

  ‘Thank you, I –’

  The fat lady eased herself into a standing position, the large travelling trunk she sat upon creaking as if with relief. She waved away the gratitude, the skin on her arm wobbling in meaty chunks. ‘You get yourself home, young lady. I’ve a show to get ready for.’

  Will thanked the woman profusely.

  ‘You can come back, you know, I’ll feed you. A girl like that, well, she’ll only be trouble.’

  ‘Thank you, but we better go.’ With a hand under Edwina’s elbow, Will steered them out of the tent. Flares had been lit here and there and faceless people wandered about in the dark. For a moment he hesitated, then, with their course decided, Will whispered, ‘This way.’ Animals bellowed, clowns rode past on bicycles and the tempting scent of cooked mutton wafted on the air.

  ‘Come on,’ Will urged, tugging at her arm.

  Edwina winced and drew back.

  ‘I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?’ He took her arm again, gently. ‘We can’t hang around here, miss.’ He stopped as an Indian with a trailing headdress stomped past. ‘I don’t have a mind to be explaining ourselves to anyone else. We best get back to the public area as quick as we can.’

  The pale walls of the big top towered over the smaller tents. Although still dazed, Edwina reluctantly understood that she needed Will’s help. It was a dependency she wished she could avoid, for, if not for him, she wouldn’t be in this awful situation. They passed canvas shelters and camp fires, people’s features highlighted by flickering flames as they sprawled on the ground. One group of men were arguing good-naturedly about whether Wywanna was the best country town they’d passed through on the tour. ‘Then this cove appeared with extra hay. Extra hay. No charge he said. Just wanted his little’uns to be able to pet one of the monkeys.’

  ‘You have to keep walking.’ Will drew her away from the men.

  ‘I am,’ snapped Edwina, marvelling at her ability to stay upright. The further they walked the more exhausted she became. All she wanted to do was crawl into a dark corner and hide.

  Ahead the creamy sides of the big top grew near. Up close, the canvas walls were dusty and dirty, not at all the glistening pavilion that had billowed into existence earlier that day.

  ‘The fat lady was right, you know. Whatever were you doing here dressed like that and alone?’

  ‘None of your business.’ Edwina slowed and instantly an arm was about her waist moving her forward again. It was an effort to walk, especially with the fresh air, and forced movement increasing the throbbing in her head. But she needed to concentrate. She was a practical, resourceful woman, one who often worked like a man. Now, she determined, was the time to think like one, to be strong, to get home to the farm. Edwina bit her lip; oh, but it was hard, so very, very hard.

  ‘For someone needing help, you’ve got an uppity air about you. Must come from having money I guess. Wait here.’

  Will was gone before Edwina could answer, slinking past a stack of barrels and into the shadows. She waited nervously, huddling into her jacket. There was no disguising her sex now. The loss of her father’s hat rendered her totally exposed to the world. Alone, the noise of the animals grew quite pronounced. Edwina listened to the chattering and growling, braying and barking as the shadow of a tree stretched across the wall of the big top. The branches crept across the surface, moving ever so slightly in the wind. It was with a feeling of relief when a few minutes later Edwina heard the crunch of gravel and Will reappeared by her side. ‘Where did you go to?’

  ‘Nowhere.’

  Edwina didn’t persist, she didn’t have the strength, although she noted something was now slung around his shoulder.

  ‘This way,’ her companion directed, leaning slightly forward as if bowed by added weight.

  Keeping the marquees to their left, they slipped under a railing and, following a short roped-off area, found themselves at the entrance to the menagerie. In the distance the faint lights of Wywanna shone. The sight of the familiar cheered Edwina, albeit briefly. Her father was only a couple of miles away and yet she wouldn’t go to him, couldn’t go to him. The situation Edwina found herself in was beyond her.

  ‘Are you alright?’ asked Will.

  ‘I …’ Edwina drew her gaze from the town, from civilisation, to the dense blackness of the bush and the direction of home.

  ‘Look, I know you’ve had a bad time of it, but we have to stick with our plan and get you home.’

  ‘I don’t know if I can go much further,’ she replied.

  ‘Sure you can. A girl like you? Well, I bet you could do most anything you put your mind to.’

  She could hear the smile in his voice, the kindness. Without warning, Edwina burst into tears. ‘W-what p-plan?’ she asked, stemming the moisture in her eyes.

  ‘What we talked about earlier,’ said Will, politely ignoring her distress. ‘Don’t you remember?’

  Edwina shook her head, gave a weak no in answer.

  ‘Well, don’t worry. I’ll get you home,’ Will promised.

  ‘B-but you don’t even know me or where I live,’ sniffed Edwina.

  Taking her by the hand, Will led them across the paddock. ‘Of course I know you. You’re Edwina Baker. You rode out twice with your father and brother to where we were ringbarking last year. I remember the day because it had been a while since I’d seen a woman, and the men, well they talked about your coming. You being your father’s daughter and riding about like a farm girl, dressed like a man. I guess they thought you’d be playing the grand lady at home or at least getting about in one of them fancy riding turnouts the posh people wear. But you weren’t like that at all. When you smiled at us, every man to a one thought you’d smiled at them. I know that for a fact because it was argued about that night around the fire. Anyway, I saw your brother Aiden earlier. I was a bit surprised your father was so intent on seeing me paid. But I’m grateful. Not many people would bother doing right by a man like me.’

  Edwina gasped. ‘You’re Will Kew?’

  ‘At your service.’

  ‘You saw Aiden?’ She clutched at his arm. ‘Has he left? Do you know?’

  ‘Shush,’ he told her. Will stared warily into the darkness. ‘I’d imagine so. I asked if he was staying to see the show, but he said he had to get back to the farm. And then he left. You just missed him in the menagerie, you know. Why, it can’t have been by more than ten or fifteen minutes.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘As sure as a man can be.’

  ‘Oh.’ Edwina couldn’t choke back the pain any longer. Her tears came in the form of gulping sobs and she found to her embarrassment that she couldn’t stop crying. Will observed her distress awkwardly and then very gingerly drew her closer so that Edwina’s cheek pressed against his shirt.

  ‘Why weren’t you with your brother?’ he asked with concern. ‘Why did you come alone? It’s a fair ride for a girl.’ His accusation was tinged with admiration.

 
‘I wasn’t allowed to come and I wanted to see the circus,’ replied Edwina. Freeing herself from his embrace, she wiped at the tears with a jacket sleeve.

  ‘And I wanted to join the circus, so that makes us a right pair, doesn’t it? Guess I’ll have to find another vocation,’ declared Will with an edge of resignation. ‘I’m not saying they would have given me a job but I guess I didn’t do myself any favours by way of introduction either.’

  Inside the big top the band could be heard warming up. From somewhere a whip cracked.

  ‘It’s very dark,’ sniffed Edwina.

  ‘The stars are out. Best enjoy them before the moon takes all the limelight.’

  Groups of people waited in the paddock for the circus to start. Camp fires glowed. Edwina gave vague directions to where Mason’s automobile was parked earlier, concerned as to what had become of Heidi-Hoe. It was with relief when they found the mare near the same tree Edwina rested at on arrival at the grounds. It was also a sure sign that Mason and his friends were gone.

  Will put his foot in the stirrup and flung himself up into the saddle. ‘Come on.’ He extended a hand, an overly large swag slung across his shoulders.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Edwina.

  ‘I can hardly leave you to make your own way home. Besides, I need a job.’ He grinned. ‘Temporary like.’

  ‘A job?’

  ‘Not ringbarking, no I’ll not be camping with that lot again,’ said Will adamantly. ‘I’m thinking you might need someone to cut your wood, or make repairs to fences or buildings.’

  Edwina didn’t argue. The thought of having someone accompany her home was a massive relief. And once they were back at the farm, surely Aiden would solve the problem of Will Kew. Heidi-Hoe whinnied in annoyance as she added to the weight on the mare’s back.

  ‘You best move up and hang on a bit, miss. I’ll not be held responsible if you slide off in the dark.’

  Heidi-Hoe walked off at a smart pace. ‘Thank you,’ said Edwina tiredly.

  ‘For rescuing you? Well, it’s a strange thing when a woman abuses you for a good deed and then gives chase, but I’m nothing but a gentleman.’ He spoke softly, a smile in his voice. ‘That’s two rescues today. I reckon you owe me, miss.’

  ‘They thought I was your accomplice,’ replied Edwina, feeling totally drained as they turned through the gate heading away from the river flats and the circus. ‘That’s why I came after you. They thought I helped you steal that cub.’

  Will extended an arm, pulling her close behind him. ‘I’m sorry.’

  A warm bulge hit her stomach. Edwina felt the length of canvas slung across Will’s back, thinking at first it was a swag. She then pulled apart the taut cloth and delving inside touched something warm and furry. ‘You took the baby lion?’ This was unbelievable. ‘Why in heavens name didn’t you return it? You could have left it with that fat lady.’

  ‘That fat lady’s name is Jacqueline,’ said Will stiffly. ‘And the cub would most likely have died. Besides, it’s not much of a baby. It might be the runt of the litter, but the little fella must weigh close to twelve pounds. You needn’t fear him though, miss. Jacqueline gave him a feed of meat laced with a good portion of rum. I reckon he’ll sleep for most of the way.’

  ‘You must take him back right now,’ demanded Edwina.

  ‘No.’

  ‘You must. If someone finds us with him –’

  ‘No,’ said Will adamantly, ‘I saved him. I don’t like killing things or watching things killed. Or knowing they could be killed. Especially harmless things. There’s just no need for it.’

  Edwina recalled the conversation around their dining-room table at the farm. It seemed like a lifetime ago. ‘So I’ve heard,’ she replied testily. ‘But you can’t bring it with us. I mean, if anyone comes looking for it we’ll all be in trouble.’

  ‘You owe me,’ replied Will.

  Edwina disagreed.

  ‘Would you like me to take you into town instead? You can report the attack, and my stealing, and explain to one of the coppers why Hamilton Baker’s daughter is riding around with a worker and dressed like a man.’

  Heidi-Hoe reached the dirt track leading into Wywanna and then, following her instinct, the mare turned left and began to head home.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Wonderful, wonderful,’ exclaimed Gloria as the small dogs with their ruffled collars and hats were escorted from the main ring by a sour-faced clown. Trailing this act was a woman of humungous size whose only contribution to the evening’s performance appeared to be to walk around the periphery of the ring, sitting down where she could every few feet so that the folds of her body appeared to mass at her feet.

  ‘Superlative,’ responded Hamilton flatly. The one benefit of the circus was the dark interior. He didn’t need to ensure that his face was arranged pleasantly, nor was it noticed when he dozed off now and then. As they waited for the next act, the flying whatevers, who promised to treat the spectators to the most death-defying of acts, he scanned the tiered benches for the tenth time, noting dismally the eight assembled gentlemen of the Guild committee, including Peter Worth, who were seated in the front row. Clearly all had booked together, with their wives. He drummed fingers irritably on a thigh as attendants began to set up a large net beneath the area where the trapeze artists would soon be spinning through the air. He’d made great progress this afternoon, but there was still a distance to travel.

  Gloria clasped his tapping hand, squeezing it tight. ‘Cheer up, my dear,’ she said sweetly, ‘maybe one of them will fall.’

  If only he could be so lucky. Besides, he was trying his best. Gloria knew there were pressing business concerns which were occupying his thoughts but the woman still expected him to be the ever-solicitous, entertaining companion. Sometimes Hamilton yearned to be the desolate bachelor again.

  Three rows down, the widower Mrs Margery Hilton of Hilton Station returned to her seat. The large woman, dressed in boring beige, her often-worn jet beads dangling over the shelf of her bosom, made a fuss of ensuring that her primly attired daughter and the girl’s newly acquired husband were seated first. The woman then made a show of waving to those friends she knew, swivelling on her heels so that her circular field of vision encompassed everybody in the crowd. Unabashed, the matron flapped her hand about at all and sundry – that is until she laid eyes on Hamilton and Gloria.

  ‘Bloody old battle-axe,’ whispered Hamilton as Mrs Hilton ignored them.

  Gloria beamed. ‘Do you mind, Mrs Hilton?’ she called out sharply. ‘The next act is about to begin and you’re blocking the view.’

  Those seated around them also called out for the matron to sit. Mrs Hilton’s lips compressed together grimly, but then curved into a smile, her eyes sparkling as if she were the custodian of hidden knowledge. Hamilton felt quite uncomfortable. Why on earth would the woman be giving him such a knowing look?

  Turning to Hamilton, Gloria said quite loudly, ‘Wouldn’t you think that with all the money the Hiltons supposedly have that she could find something a little more fashionable to wear?’

  Hamilton shielded his face, wishing he could make himself invisible.

  ‘What?’ she asked playfully.

  Of course Gloria was correct. The country women of means from the greater district of Wywanna were, on the whole, rather dowdy and at times verged on being coarse compared to his peacock Gloria. They and their families, many pioneers, may well have prospered out here over preceding generations but distance and harsh beginnings did not lend themselves to refinement.

  ‘Cheer up, Hamilton,’ said Gloria. ‘At least you can strike them off your Christmas card list.’

  ‘I don’t send Christmas cards,’ he replied morosely. For every step forward there were twenty paces back.

  Gloria smiled. ‘Well then. No harm done.’

  ‘I need a drink. They should serve champagne.’

  ‘Now that,’ exclaimed Gloria, ‘is something I do agree with. Still I’m sorry we
didn’t arrive earlier to see more of the commotion. The whole incident seems to have created quite a stir.’

  Apparently there had been a tremendous hullaballoo after the theft of a lion cub from the circus zoo. And the ramifications of the incident were still ongoing when the hired sulky dropped them at the circus entrance. Even as they sat in the gloomy rear stalls with the canvas walls silhouetting the heads and shoulders of the surrounding audience, the police, along with volunteers, were continuing to search the grounds and were going so far as to boat down the river. That would be the next instalment, decided Hamilton. The boat would undoubtedly run aground or someone would end up overboard in the dark. Stupidity seemed to have a habit of following foolishness.

  ‘I would rather like to meet her,’ admitted Gloria, forcing Hamilton to draw his thoughts away from the difficulties of Wywanna society and overturned boats.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The girl,’ said Gloria.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure,’ placated Hamilton. Some young lad steals a lion and the accomplice is a girl dressed as a man. It could only happen in Wywanna. Reason enough to keep his children, particularly Edwina, at home. Such events could be quite unsettling to impressionable minds.

  ‘I mean, it’s fascinating to think of a young man and a woman as partners in crime.’ She pinched Hamilton’s cheek playfully. ‘There’s hope for us yet.’

  ‘Well, I hope the police catch them. It’s just not on, this stealing of property.’

  In the half shadows Gloria did her best to look aghast. ‘But heavens, surely you don’t believe such a thing. I mean all these good rural folk you do business with, haven’t they all dabbled in the thieving of livestock, even if it was unintentional?’

  The woman in front of them looked over her shoulder.

  ‘Shush,’ complained Hamilton.

  ‘Oh please,’ pouted Gloria. ‘A sheep here, a cow there. Why that’s how herds are built and dynasties are forged in Australia, isn’t it?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ snapped Hamilton. ‘Of course it isn’t.’