‘There’s no reason why a woman can’t work and be a mother too, especially once the children go to school. What other objections have you, then?’
The man sneered and Patrick suspected he was running out of ideas. ‘My dear lady, when will you feminists accept that women simply don’t have the mental capacity for rational thought as do men? We cannot have the laws of this country based on the emotional and sentimental rhetoric of the weaker sex.’
A few members of his party nodded at that. ‘Hear, hear,’ said one, but the rest of the room seemed to eagerly await what Frankie would say next.
‘On the contrary, sir, emotion and sentiment underscore the very fabric of all decent society, and if you’re suggesting women are stronger in these areas so be it. I’ll take it as a compliment on our behalf, for without it there can be no compassion and no love for our fellow man, or woman,’ she added. ‘All Australians deserve to be protected and looked after in this new nation: men, women, rich and poor. And every single one of them deserves the right to vote and make this a country to be proud of … an Australia that cares.’
Ivy stood then, tears forming as she began to clap and it caught on around the room as women and, indeed, even a few men, stood and applauded Frankie’s words. She looked around in surprise as their own table joined in, her parents and Aggie beaming at her with pride. But it was Patrick’s eyes she sought as the arrogant party of men slunk out from the restaurant and, even though he couldn’t fathom why she had looked for his reaction above all, it moved him that she did. More than it probably should.
Twenty-Five
Bobbin Head
It was a still morning and the river shone like polished glass. Ivy stared out at it thoughtfully, her sketchbook open as she traced a likeness of a wallaby, grazing nearby with a few others, her little joey peeking out and watching Ivy with interest. She worked in plain lead pencil, immersing herself in the process, hoping that it would calm her as it usually did, but it was a challenge. The occasional vessel arriving was an immediate and nerve-racking distraction but Riley Logan’s boat was yet to appear. She wondered if Barney had delivered her note, considering his track record, but surely he would remember this time. She hoped, anyway.
Ivy wasn’t sure which aspect of the day was making her the most nervous although returning here, just a bend in the river away from the scene of her ill-fated birthday, was certainly part of it. This area had a haunted feel about it now but even so it was a beautiful place, Ivy reflected, staring around at the hazy hillsides that glowed in warm autumn sunshine and slept in shadowed recesses in turn. The pelicans that sat upon the mooring poles were sweet too, even if trying to pat one wasn’t a good idea, she thought with a smile, recalling the story Frankie had told her of being defecated upon.
The sound of an approaching boat lurched her stomach but it was a false alarm, just a small fishing trawler. Not Riley arriving at last. However, the knowledge that he would likely show soon forced her to admit that the largest part of her nerves centred on seeing him. Ivy didn’t like facing that truth. It felt disloyal to Patrick to admit she’d missed Riley these past two months but she had, and that didn’t mean she didn’t still love Patrick, for she did. How could she not when he was such a handsome, attentive, intelligent man, and so good to her, coming to her side when she was in crisis, and brave too, fighting those men who’d attacked Frankie. He’d become part of the family now and she knew he would propose soon and she’d of course accept, and he’d prove to be a faithful and supportive husband.
There was no question she was in love with him but the niggling question also remained of why she missed Riley so. And why he so often came to mind.
Ivy put her pencil aside and stared at the bend in the river where his boat might soon appear, trying to understand what it was she had so missed. She missed the comfort of him, she supposed, his ever-dependable presence. Ivy had never felt so safe as when she was with him. She missed his smile too, and the way he looked when he confessed his deepest truths, like he trusted her implicitly, and maybe even more than that. Maybe that he’d grown to care for her too.
Perhaps it was merely that he’d rescued her so she had a developed a case of hero worship, but whatever it was she wished she didn’t feel it. It was confusing and it wasn’t fair to Patrick to even be considering such things. To be thinking about the words Riley had never spoken but had been written there all too clearly whenever she’d caught his gaze. In the gentle way he’d carried her. In the touch of the cloth as he’d soothed her skin. Ivy shook her head, banishing those last thoughts especially, knowing she shouldn’t be seeing him again, but she had to. For Fiona’s sake.
Another rumbling engine approached and she watched the spot as Riley’s boat appeared at last. Ivy’s heart leapt but she refused to acknowledge any further feelings, focusing on why she’d come instead. She stood as he edged closer to shore, trying not to notice how masculine he seemed as he moved about the boat, throwing ropes and dropping anchor. How welcome it was to see his smile. Such silly, romantic notions, she admonished herself, but she felt flustered as he waded over, just the same.
‘Well, hello there,’ he said, hands on his hips as he stopped before her, ankle deep in the water, pants rolled to the knee. ‘You’re looking very well.’
Ivy almost took that for flirtatious but then remembered the last time he’d seen her.
‘Oh, yes, quite recovered. Just a small scar to remind me of my folly,’ she said, lifting her hat so he could see it. He came closer to investigate and she sucked in her breath as he touched it lightly.
‘No-one would notice, I don’t think,’ he said and Ivy nodded, feeling rather giddy and ridiculous as he smiled down at her.
‘Hopefully not,’ she said.
‘Is that your sketchbook?’ he said. She’d quite forgotten she still held it. ‘May I?’
Ivy handed it to him and he flicked through with interest. ‘You’re really good,’ he said. ‘Seriously. I love this one,’ he said, pausing at the one she’d just been doing of the wallaby.
‘You … you can have it if you want,’ she said, trying not to feel too elated that he liked them.
‘Really? I mean, if you don’t mind … thanks,’ he said, grinning at her.
‘I have some other things too,’ she said, turning away to fetch what she’d brought, and begin explaining why she’d asked him to meet her. She had rehearsed in case she inadvertently revealed the truth about George beating Fiona. Yet it was difficult now that he was here and she’d had so long to fear for her.
‘Barney told me Fiona had another little girl,’ Ivy began.
‘Yes, the girls wanted to call her Mermaid but Fiona’s settled on Ivy.’
That halted Ivy in her tracks, especially the fond way he’d said it, and she had to swallow against sudden emotion before commenting.
‘That’s … so kind,’ she managed. ‘I’ve brought her some things, she and the girls. I thought it was the very least I could do. Just some material and books and toys, and some clothes and extra things for the baby.’
‘I won’t pretend to know what half that stuff is for but thank you. I’m sure they’ll love everything,’ he said, peering into the large box of supplies and scratching his head. ‘If I can fit it on board. How did you get it down here?’ he said, looking around.
‘Barney helped me,’ she said. ‘I tied my horse to the back of the wagon so I’ll just ride home.’
‘Right,’ he said, looking over at Shadow. ‘Nice mount.’
‘He’s a good boy,’ she told him, preparing to say the rest. ‘Riley, do you remember when you told me about the idea of building a store up the river, one that sold things people could afford?’ He nodded so she continued. ‘Well, I was thinking that I could help you with it, I mean financially, if you added an extra room or two out the back.’
‘What do you want them for? Planning on moving in?’ he asked quite lightly, but he was watching her intensely now.
‘I want to open a s
chool.’
That surprised him. ‘A school?’
‘Yes. I’m planning to earn my teachers’ licence and run a small school. To do something in life that matters, remember? And I was thinking that perhaps Fiona could help me run it, and the store with you. The girls could go to the school and we could all watch the baby.’
‘Not sure if George would allow that,’ Riley said. Ivy didn’t tell him that was the most important part of her plan: to get Fiona away from George as much as possible. She couldn’t help her to actually leave him. Husbands could take children away from their mother legally and at any time, and spousal desertion would certainly be grounds for George to do something that cruel. However, being at the school and store would mean Fiona had a lot of time away from his presence, which was something, at least. Not an end to his beatings, of course, but potentially less time to inflict them. It also would mean the girls got an education and the family had more access to supplies and fresh food. In all, a step up from their current difficult lives.
‘He might if he could see the benefit of more food on the table and more access to supplies,’ Ivy pointed out.
‘True,’ Riley said.
‘I also thought … well, I thought it might be nice for you, fulfilling your dream and all,’ she added and he smiled at her and rubbed his neck.
‘Trying to help everyone have better lives in one fell swoop, I see,’ he said.
‘That’s pretty much the plan,’ she admitted. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think you and I have been thinking about the same things,’ he told her. ‘I’ve already got the land and started building.’
Ivy gaped at him before letting out an incredulous laugh. ‘Truly?’
‘Yep. Want to come and see?’
‘I … yes, of course. When?’
‘How about right now? It’s only an hour and a bit upriver.’
Ivy checked at her watch and shook her head. ‘Oh no, I’ll be out too late and I have dinner reservations,’ she said, remembering somewhat guiltily that she had plans to dine with Patrick that night. Perhaps she shouldn’t be organising to go out on Riley’s boat, but this was hardly a date. ‘What if we went another day? Say next week sometime?’
‘How’s Tuesday?’ he suggested. ‘I was only planning on a large front room for the store and living area out the back but we could certainly expand on that easily enough. It’s a good block, nice and flat and high enough to avoid the king tides and floods.’
‘Does it flood much up there?’
‘All the time,’ he said. ‘Surprised it didn’t flood when you were there. Every other disaster seemed to happen.’
‘I’ll pack my umbrella, just in case.’
He grinned at her. ‘Might be an idea. Right you are. I’ll pick you up here at, say, ten in the morning?’
‘Sounds perfect,’ she said and stood back for him to place the drawing in the box and lift it up to load it onto the boat.
‘Bloody hell, how much do baby things weigh?’ he commented and she had to giggle. Soon they were on board, however, and Riley came back to shore. ‘So I’d best be off. See you on Tuesday, ten o’clock, then?’
She nodded. ‘I’ll be then one standing under enormous rain-clouds holding an umbrella.’
He chuckled at that, backing away. ‘It was good to see you.’ He tipped his hat, his last look lingering as he started the boat and drove away before disappearing around the river’s bend a minute or so later.
Ivy watched the Hawkesbury Queen until it had gone.
‘It was good to see you too.’
Patrick couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting and Ivy wondered again at his strange mood.
‘How were classes today?’ she asked, trying to make conversation.
‘Hmm? Oh yes, fine, fine. Bit boring but, you know, that’s law for you.’
He was twiddling with his fork and looking over at the door to the kitchen repeatedly, prompting her to ask, ‘Patrick, what on earth’s the matter?’
‘Nothing,’ he said quickly, sending her a reassuring smile. ‘Not a thing. How was your day, anyway? Do anything interesting at all?’
‘Actually, I did do something I’d been meaning to do for a while. I made up some gifts for Fiona and her children. Did I tell you she had the baby? A little girl. Called her Ivy, in fact. Isn’t that so sweet?’
‘It certainly is,’ he said, taking her fingers in his own, ‘the sweetest name of all.’
‘I meant sweet of her,’ she replied but she was blushing now.
‘How will you get them to her? The gifts, I mean?’ Patrick asked.
‘I sent word and met up with Riley Logan down at Bobbin Head. They’ve probably already got them, in fact. Barney helped me get them down the track.’
Patrick frowned and withdrew his hand to sip his wine. ‘I don’t really think you should have anything more to do with the people you met up the river. I mean, sending gifts is one thing, but keeping in touch or going up there to see them wouldn’t be a good idea.’
‘Why ever not?’ Ivy said. ‘They took very good care of me and it’s the least I can do.’
‘Because it isn’t safe, Ivy. You nearly died, for a start.’
‘That’s hardly the river’s fault or the people—’
‘And you nearly got attacked by drunk and dangerous men. Frankie and I did get attacked, as you know. It’s no place for a beautiful young woman, Ivy. I won’t allow it.’
‘Allow …?’ That word clogged in her throat and she glared at him. ‘Excuse me, but I am not your … your servant to allow or disallow anything.’
‘Of course, of course. Allow isn’t the right word, I’m sorry,’ he said, immediately contrite as he took her hand once more but his eyes still kept flicking to the kitchen.
‘You don’t seem very sorry,’ she observed.
Patrick shook his head and gave her his full attention. ‘I am, truly. I don’t know why I put it that way. I guess it’s a phrase I picked up from my father and it just … came out. I really meant that I don’t want you to go. I’d be so worried if you were in danger again. Quite honestly I don’t know if I could survive it twice, the fear of losing you.’
That softened her somewhat but she was still annoyed, possibly due to fact that he was right in many ways – it wasn’t somewhere she should go to again, but if Riley was with her she knew she wouldn’t be afraid. Not that she would be telling Patrick about her plans for Tuesday’s jaunt, especially now, and it was suddenly clear that he would definitely be against her much larger plan to become a teacher and open a school up there. Not that he could stop her … unless …
‘I understand,’ she said, smiling a little now and deciding she’d better sound him out, partially at least. ‘I did have something else I wanted to talk to you about. I … I’ve been thinking about studying.’
‘Well, that’s an excellent idea. What do you want to study? Art?’
‘Actually, teaching.’
‘You want to be a teacher?’ he said, jaw dropping.
‘Yes, I thought it would suit me. I love children and … whatever’s wrong?’
‘It’s just that, well, I’m not sure you’re aware but … married women aren’t allowed to teach.’
‘What?’ She didn’t know what to be more stunned about, that fact, which she indeed hadn’t known, or the fact that he’d just suggested marriage. Or the fact that a waiter was walking out of the kitchen carrying a cake with candles and heading their way while a man playing Mozart on a fiddle seemed to be doing the same. The cake was placed before them, a ring box open at the centre containing a large diamond ring and Patrick looked a bit sick as he got down on one knee before her.
‘Ivy Merriweather, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’
It was the moment she’d longed for and dreamed of until more recent, confusing times, never imagining she’d have any reason to even consider saying ‘no’, and his timing couldn’t have been worse, proposing in the middle of their first-ever disag
reement. Yet, looking into his handsome face and remembering how much she loved him, there was really only one answer to give.
‘Yes,’ she whispered, before clearing her throat and accepting more clearly. ‘Yes, Patrick, I will marry you.’
Patrick gave a huge smile of relief as the rest of the restaurant patrons broke into spontaneous applause. The waiter and the fiddle player beamed but, as he rose to kiss her lips for the first time since her birthday, Ivy couldn’t help but wonder what she was losing by gaining a husband, and what would matter in her life from now on.
Twenty-Six
‘You won’t be able to work here any more if you do this, you understand,’ Sister Ursula said in her stern, intimidating way. ‘Father Brown has turned a blind eye to the fact that you’re married but he won’t let you continue on as a mother who should be at home.’
‘I do understand that,’ Aggie told her, ‘although I hope to still be able to help out from time to time, as the other mothers do.’
‘Of course,’ Sister Ursula said, ‘that would be quite acceptable should you choose to do so. We will certainly miss your skills, I’ve no doubt.’ That was quite a compliment coming from the nun and Aggie attempted a smile.
‘Thank you, sister. So, how long do these things usually take?’
‘Well, it depends on which child you choose and what Father has to say about things. You will need his approval, legalities aside.’ She said it in a matter-of-a-fact way but there was an underlying edge of resentment there.
‘Does that happen very often?’ Aggie would have thought any parents willing to adopt would find it easy to do so. It wasn’t a common occurrence.
‘Not often, no,’ Sister Ursula said, staring out the window with a sigh. ‘I suppose now that you’re leaving I can tell you that Eddie was offered a place with a childless couple out at Windsor last month but Father put a stop to it.’
‘Why?’ Aggie said, devastated for poor Eddie.
Sister Ursula sent her a glance. ‘He said he didn’t deserve the opportunity.’
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