by Geoff Lawson
“Well boys, I think we’re done with this place. The police
are none the wiser about anything and there is no fresh news
from our friends in Cape Town, so we may as well enjoy our
stay tonight an’ get on our way tomorrow. First, we’ll go south
to Illwe and from there to Sterkstoom Junction to check the
telegraph for news, after which we’ll make our way north via
rail to Molteno and Stormberg Junction, checking the telegraph
and the constabulary stations as we go.”
Finally, I downed my drink and feeling its numbness
beginning to spread through my limbs, I decided I’d had
enough of whisky and got to my feet.
“Right oh, then gentlemen, I’m off for a bath.” They
looked up, surprise etched on their faces.
“Now?” came the reply, all three of them busy refilling
their glasses. “What’s the big hurry?”
Back in my room, I up-ended the carpetbag and tipped its
contents out upon the bed. Spotting the suit, I separated it from
the pile, as well as the shoes and clean underwear, before
leaving the remainder as it lay. While I rummaged I noticed
there was a daywear suit consisting of a striped jacket, boater
hat and cream trousers that I hadn’t seen before, plus a bag that
34
contained a grooming kit. I smiled. I hadn’t peed into a
ceramic toilet bowl or had a hot bath for months prior and was
looking forward to the novelty of it.
Then I went downstairs to the desk to ask the clerk on duty
to have hot water for a bath brought up and was assured the
staff would get onto it straight away. I returned to my room
and busied myself with repacking the items I didn’t require.
Ten minutes later, there was a knock upon the door and three
attendants entered, each carrying two large enamelled pitchers
of hot water, while a fourth carried a tin bath. They placed the
bath on a towelling mat and poured the water in, then left,
leaving a couple of hand towels and a cake of soap on the bed.
I locked the door and stripped off, about to step in the bath,
when there came another knock on the door.
“Sir, we have more water for you.”
Wrapping a towel around myself I stepped over to the door,
unlocked it and swung it open to find someone who was
definitely not a hotel attendant, standing with his hands
clasped behind his back and a smirk on his face.
“Who’re you?” I growled, more than a little annoyed at this
intrusion. I took a step forward and a quick look left down the
hallway to ensure there were no women around to see me
draped in a towel, and it went through my mind that this bloke
looked like one of the layabouts we had passed on the way into
town. Then, something slammed down on my head.
35
Chapter Five
PATEA, Early December. 1898
The postbox in Patea hadn’t been cleared for a while and more
hardware was required for the farm, so early one morning I
harnessed lofty and the grey to the wagon and hit the road for
town. The wind was fresh and the sky was covered in cloud
when I left, but by the time I had reached Patea, the sun was
hot and directly overhead.
It was now mid-afternoon and I couldn’t be bothered with
supplies by then, so I headed for Aunt Zelda’s and un-
harnessed the horses in the paddock next to the house. Zelda’s
husband had died tragically about six years before, so Zelda
and her daughters, Agnes and Emma, had returned to Patea
where they would be closer to family and friends.
The horses went straight to the water trough and with tails
swishing they commenced to drink, while I shouldered the
carpetbag and the portmanteau that contained my clothes and
opened the gate in the hedge. I hadn’t been to Patea since my
return from Whanganui and it was good to be away from the
farm for a while.
After closing the gate I could hear voices from the back of
the house, so I crept down the side and glanced around the
corner, ensuring that I couldn't be seen. I saw Agnes and
Emma, which was no surprise, but I was stunned to see who
they were talking to - it was her, the girl from Whanganui; the
one with the extraordinary eyes! In dismay I pulled my head
back, realising now that there was no possibility she could
avoid me. I stepped into view, casually announcing my
presence and surprised, they turned to look.
Agnes and Emma were pleased to see me and seemed to be
more excited than usual. Agnes beckoned and I tried my
darnedest not to be seen to be holding my breath while Agnes
glanced at her friend.
36
“Richard, meet my new friend Rachel Purdue.” As I
looked, Rachel’s face registered an expression that bordered on
shock.
I gazed back benignly, trying not to seem forward, or be
seen to stare, while acutely conscious of her proximity at the
same time.
“Hello Rachel,” I managed in a subdued tone, still taking
her in.
“So,” she began, her composure restored. “You are the
Richard I have heard so much about.”
I was surprised she said that.
“The only one I’m sure.” I glanced at Agnes, who blushed
and quickly looked at Emma before both looked away.
“Rachel’s from Whanganui, you know. She’s the pen friend
I told you about.”
“Yes,” piped Emma, “she’s come to stay and now you are
here, you can help us keep her entertained.”
I scarcely heard them. My attention was solely on Rachel.
She was so damn adorable that I couldn’t stop looking. Her
hair was pulled backwards and wound loosely behind her head,
exposing her slim neck and shoulders. She moved slightly and
partly crossed her arms, while her eyes seemed to linger; there
was something deep and absorbing in the way they lingered
that was almost startling.
Aunt Zelda broke the spell.
“Is that you Richard? Everyone come inside and I’ll put the
kettle on.”
“I’d better put my things in the bunkhouse,” I murmured,
almost apologetically, scarcely able to look away. As the girls
filed inside I noticed a smile had flicked discreetly across her
features, then I carried my gear to the bunkroom. I always slept
out there when I stayed, because it wouldn’t do for a virile
young man like myself to sleep in a house full of excitable
young women.
That evening I found myself sitting directly opposite her at
the dinner table. She was dressed more formally than she
needed to be, but she was so god-awful extraordinary that I
made a point of looking at the others and made a conscious
effort to contribute to the conversation – but she wasn’t fooled.
37
She knew exactly what I was thinking. She was like no other
girl I had ever seen and my eyes couldn’t get enough. I was
hugely relieved to realise that there appeared to be no
embarrassment in her demeanour; to my encouragement,
she
seemed to be comfortable with my attentiveness.
Next morning, I was up early and while the girls were still
wandering about in their dressing gowns I left in the wagon. I
drove to the main road and stopped at the hardware store to
buy fencing wire and staples, a handle for the fencepost
shovel, spirits of salts for making flux, a lock to replace the
broken lock on the tool shed door and several reels of twine.
Then I moved to the haberdashery shop where to mother’s
instructions I bought white linen for shirt making, a packet of
sewing needles and an assorted packet of pearl-coloured
buttons. After that, I made for the smithy and picked up the re-
welded eyebolt for the hay mower before heading back to
Zelda’s.
By the time I arrived there, it was just about noon and I
found that Agnes and Emma were still excited and awaiting
my return.
“We’re taking Rachel for a picnic and you must come with
us.” Rachel alone seemed to be calm, and looked on while
Aunt Zelda raided the pantry for food.
“Besides,” Emma added brightly, “we need a man to drive
the gig now, don’t we?”
I smiled inwardly. I needed an excuse to hang around.
Since the wagon was already harnessed I threw the
hardware out, collected the bench seats from the front of the
house and in five minutes had them fixed inside the wagon
with twine. A light stepladder was produced from the garden
shed and after everyone had clambered aboard I flipped the
tailgate up. Then we were off.
I drove to the river, where a reserve wound its way along
the bank and there were some shade trees close to the water.
There I stopped and while the women spread their blankets I
made several trips with a canvas bucket to retrieve some water
for the horses, before we helped ourselves to fresh bread, ham,
pickles and cheese, after which we settled in for an idle
afternoon and equally idle conversations.
38
Rachel was a model of social decorum and butter wouldn’t
melt in her mouth. She was acutely aware of my fascination
for her, but she was doing a darn good job of not showing it.
Her hands were so angelic that I wanted to kiss them and hug
them. I couldn’t believe I was actually thinking like that and I
could feel the colour rise in my face.
She sat with her legs folded beside her, her ankles
protruding from the bottom of her skirt. They were so slim and
elegant. My eyes focused on where they disappeared under her
hem. I looked away. When I turned to look back, she casually
reached up with a subtle arch that thrust out her chest, grasped
her hat and slowly removed some hatpins before sliding the hat
from her head.
While her fingers probed and pulled, I noticed that her
blouse tightened around her breasts; the buttons strained. I
looked away in case anyone noticed I was staring. Agnes and
Emma were oblivious and continued to chatter, but it was all
too apparent from the smirk on Aunt Zelda’s face that she
hadn’t missed a thing.
Not long after, Zelda suddenly stood up and to my surprise,
dragged Agnes and Emma away on some pretext or other. I
was so absorbed with Rachel that I didn’t catch what the
reason was and anyway, all that really mattered was that
Rachel and I were alone.
I realised that I needed to converse with style, but my brain
was too stuck to function; I was compelled to resort to
mundane things.
“What do you do in Whanganui?” Her eyes smiled
benignly and my confidence soared. “I work part time in a law
office.”
That brought me down with a jolt. Brains as well as beauty,
I thought despairingly. Only a handful of the smartest girls
could ever get a job like that.
“What about you then – I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Oh,” says I, feigning modesty. “What things have you
heard?”
“Well, I’ve heard that you are a consummate horseman, a
fabulous carpenter, a famous marksman and a great white
hunter!”
39
“Good lord! You don’t believe any of that do you?”
She laughed. “So, you deny it then? Your cousins do
admire you, you know. You must have done something to
deserve it.” There was a pause. She had a smirk that hinted
devilment. “Is it true that you won the school’s shooting
championship with a perfect score?”
“I was lucky. It was my turn to win I guess.”
She gave me a shrewd look. “I also heard that you shot a
gigantic wild boar that was a national record.”
“It was Billy’s dogs that caught it. I only pulled the
trigger.”
“I suppose then, that there is no truth to the rumour that
you are the local horse jumping champion?”
I hesitated and smiled my own version of a coy smile. “It
was Brownie that did the jumping. I only went for the ride.”
Just then we could hear Aunt Zelda and the girls returning
and I realised our time alone was almost up.
I must have looked disappointed, because Rachel seemed
to notice.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered, leaning closer. “I’ll see you
later.” Hope blossomed like an explosion, but what exactly did
she mean?
That evening, we retired to the parlour and the three young
women sat together talking and laughing while I kept aside and
watched. To the casual observer, I was looking at the group,
but in reality, I was watching her. She had a pleasant social
manner and smiled as she looked from one to the other. She
would laugh spontaneously on the right occasions and
contributed to the conversation – no small feat where Agnes
and Emma were concerned! Occasionally, her brown eyes
would flick in my direction, probably to confirm that I was still
watching, but otherwise she ignored me.
Later, I lay in my bed and visions of her kept floating
around in my head. There was no doubt that she had tipped my
world upside down, and when she left here tomorrow, my life
would never be the same. Eventually, weariness made me fall
into a deep, dreamless sleep.
It was in the early hours that I suddenly woke; and froze. I
could sense someone else in the room. It was a shock to realise
40
that someone was standing close to the bed, silently looking
down on me.
“Richard!” came a whisper in the darkness. I got another
shock when it dawned on me who it was.
“Rachel?!” I swung off the bed, failing to hide the surprise
in my voice, and after ensuring the door was shut so that no
one could see her, I lit the candle on the washstand.
She was barefoot and poised in her nightdress, with her
hair hanging long and loose. I was too surprised to say a word;
I just stared and she stared back. We were less than a yard
apart and I was conscious only of her, the two of us, alone in
this room. Our own little uni
verse. Her eyes looked moist and
luminous in the candlelight. Was this a defining moment? She
seemed hesitant, unsure.
Then she made up her mind. She stepped forward, holding
out her arms, and folded them around me. She drew herself to
me as though it were the most natural thing in the world for her
to do. We just stood there, holding each other. I could feel her
back through the flannel of her nightdress and marvelled how
light she was.
I could sense she was nervous and neither of us spoke –
she was undoubtedly naked under that nightdress and an
avalanche of emotions surged through me; euphoric emotions,
feelings of reverence and tenderness I never would have
thought I was capable of. After a while, she lifted her head
from my shoulder and her eyes bored into mine.
“Richard. If I come back for another visit, will you still be
here?”
“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”
“Good.” There was a note of confidence in her voice. “For
if I return and you do not come, I shall be utterly miserable!”
Then she let me go, and the last I saw of her, she was gliding
through the moonlight heading for the house.
On my way home, I had much to dwell on. The horses
plodded steadily along while the road twisted and turned over
pleasant, undulating countryside which was dotted with copses
of native trees. Every bend in the road opened up another vista,
the sunshine was marvellous, the wind was light and kereru
41
flapped lazily overhead, but I never really noticed it. My mind
was far away.
I was all too aware that something incredible had happened
and the memory of it was stuck in my head like molasses
sticks to a wooden spoon. I could still imagine her arms around
me, her head on my shoulder and the soapy lavender smell of
her nightdress – all of which was completely intoxicating.
Inside, I felt a continuous wistfulness.
I was also aware that she had taken a monumental risk in
sneaking out like that. Aside from the ever-present danger of
being caught doing it, there was also the uncertainty of the
outcome, for she had no way of knowing precisely how I
would react. I could well have been shocked that she had
broken one of the most fundamental of social rules and tossed
her out; but I could have also interpreted her actions as an open
invitation to take advantage of her. As it happened, I was more