Emily

by Valerie Wood

  ‘Just as well, sir.’ Joe took it from him. ‘’Cos I don’t know how. I’m not a violent man, never have been.’

  ‘Then I’ll give you a lesson later, as well as Emily and Meg. Just hold it as if you know what you’re doing,’ Philip added.

  Two of the convicts disappeared the first afternoon they were freed, but on the third day one of them returned, saying he was hungry.

  ‘You’ll all get fed while you’re here,’ Joe told them. ‘As much soup and bread as you can eat, but we’ll expect you to work for it. Tha knows ’penalties just ’same as I do,’ he stressed. ‘If you abscond, your sentence is extended and you lose your privileges if you’re caught. If you stay it means you’ll have a better chance than you ever had in England.’

  Within three weeks the pond was dug. Stone, old bricks and rubble were laid in the base and an outlet was dug towards the creek. As the last spade of earth was removed and the water gushed towards the pond, the men gave a cheer, elated with their efforts and achievement.

  Philip bought sheep in the spring, a small flock of Merino as he had been advised; he also bought pigs, on Joe’s advice, so that they would have bacon for the table and Emily asked for a cow and calf and a clutch of hens.

  She stood looking down at the hens scratching in the dirt as Philip and Joe hammered nails into a hen coop they were building. ‘Do you remember, Joe?’ she said softly. ‘Ma swapped me for a hen and a dozen eggs.’

  Both men looked up. ‘What?’ Joe’s forehead furrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

  She gazed into her distant memory. ‘When Sam came to take me to Granny Edwards.’ Her recollection was only hazy, but she said, ‘He’d been sent to fetch you, only Ma wouldn’t let you go. She said, “Leave me a dozen eggs and yon hen and you can take Emily.”’

  Philip was aghast. ‘What a dreadful thing to do! Your own mother!’

  Emily shook her head. ‘I didn’t know it at the time, but Ma knew that my father was dying and she must have realized that we would have to go to the parish workhouse. She sent me off to save me from that.’

  Joe pushed his hat to the back of his head. ‘Aye, she did. It was that same day that I lost my job on ’farm so we had no money coming in.’

  ‘What happened to the hen?’ Emily asked curiously.

  ‘We ate it!’ Joe said. ‘She was a good layer as well. But ’day after Da died, Ma wrung its neck. She said that it would be ’last good dinner we’d have in a long time. She was right an’ all. We packed what was left of it into little parcels and ate it as we walked to Skirlaw workhouse.’

  Later as Emily sat hemming a sheet by the kitchen fire, Philip came in and stood over her. She looked up and made to rise. ‘Don’t get up,’ he insisted. ‘There’s no need.’ He continued to gaze down at her, then he put his hand briefly on her head and stroked her hair. ‘You’ve had a hard life, Emily.’

  She looked startled for a moment and then bending her head, said, ‘No, sir. Not until I met Hugo Purnell. It was after meeting him that things started to go wrong. It was all right until then. It was ’kind of life that I expected.’

  ‘I’ll make it up to you, Emily,’ he said quietly. ‘I swear to God I will.’

  ‘You have already, Mr Linton.’ She smiled at him. ‘You have made my life so much better. And Joe’s,’ she added, ‘and Meg’s too.’

  He sat in the chair opposite her and leaned towards her. ‘When this place is up and running, I have to go back to England.’

  ‘Oh!’ Dismay showed on her face. ‘Must you, sir? What will we do?’

  ‘I must because I have things to attend to. I need money for a start. I’m living on bank loans out here and as to what you will do, you will carry on as if I am still here. Joe will look after the sheep and you will run the house.’ He grinned. ‘And Meg will do whatever it is she does besides play with the baby.’

  ‘She’s becoming a good cook,’ Emily began.

  ‘I know,’ he agreed. ‘I’ll give Clavell authority to act on my behalf and any problem you can’t deal with yourselves you can refer to him. He’ll be a good friend.’

  He noticed her anxious expression. ‘Don’t worry, it won’t be yet. Not until the end of the summer anyway. And I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  The summer was hotter than they ever imagined. Hotter even than when they had been on the ship. Emily spent most of the day indoors, for her fair skin burned and she only ventured out in the early morning and late evening. Meg, being darker, was not affected so much, though she always wore a hat and she took to doing things outside which previously Emily had done, such as feeding the pigs and chickens. Ralph, learning to crawl, stayed on the veranda or inside the house and Joe rigged up a fan above him to keep him cool.

  Early one morning Joe came indoors looking for Philip, who was sitting at the kitchen table going over his accounts.

  ‘There’s an Abo wandering about. Shall I see him off ?’

  ‘What’s he doing?’ Philip looked up.

  ‘Nowt,’ Joe said. ‘He’s made himself a camp at ’top end of ’high field, just by some scrub. He’s old, seems harmless.’

  ‘By himself?’ Emily asked.

  ‘Aye, there’s nobody with him.’

  ‘Leave him then,’ Philip said. ‘He’ll probably move off in a day or two. I don’t think they stay in one place for long. They’re too afraid of being shot at by the settlers.’

  But about a week later, when Emily ventured out one evening as the heat of the day dispersed, she saw the native sitting cross-legged in a pair of cotton trousers and a worn cotton shirt, where Joe had said. His skin was wrinkled and dark and he did seem very old. She walked across to him and asked, ‘Are you hungry?’

  He nodded and patted his stomach. ‘Empty belly, missis.’

  ‘Come with me, then,’ she suggested. ‘I’ll get you some food.’

  He followed behind her. His back was bent and he loped along in a lopsided way. In his hand he carried a stick, but he seemed to have no other possessions. Joe and Meg were standing on the veranda as she approached and Joe stepped forward in some alarm. ‘What do you think you’re doing, Emily?’ he said angrily. ‘The fellow might be dangerous!’

  ‘No more dangerous than some white men I’ve known,’ she retorted. ‘Meg, is there some of that salt beef left or any rice?’

  ‘Yes.’ Meg looked warily at the Aborigine. ‘There is. I was going to use it for supper.’

  ‘Give him some,’ Emily said, ‘and some bread. He looks half starved.’

  ‘Oh well!’ Joe said caustically. ‘Invite him in to dine! We’ll have all ’tribe arriving now and we’ll not get rid of him if he knows he’s going to be fed.’

  ‘He’s old,’ Emily insisted. ‘And he’s alone. Be charitable, Joe!’

  The old native took the food and touched his head to Emily and took himself off back to his place and didn’t disturb them until three days later, when he arrived at the veranda trailing a dead dingo. He had his stick in his hand which he held up. ‘Dingo kill sheep,’ he muttered. ‘Me kill dingo.’

  ‘You mean he killed the dog with his stick,’ Philip said incredulously when they told him.

  ‘Aye,’ Joe said. ‘’Said he did, and I found a dead sheep at top of ’creek. It had been well and truly savaged, but the others are all right. They must have scattered.’

  ‘Better give him the dead sheep then if he wants it,’ Philip said, then looked at Meg. ‘Unless you were planning on cooking it, Meg!’

  ‘I’ll cook it if somebody’ll skin it,’ she said.

  ‘Get the Abo to skin it,’ Joe suggested. ‘He can keep ’fleece and we’ll share ’meat.’

  When the native produced a knife from his pocket to skin the sheep, they looked at him in alarm. ‘So he was armed all ’time!’ Joe muttered. ‘He didn’t just have his stick.’

  ‘He’s all right,’ Emily insisted. ‘How else would he live without a means of killing his food?’ She had seen feathers and the remains of rodents near to the Abo
rigine’s camp. ‘There’s nowhere else for him to go.’

  ‘Emily’s right,’ Philip said. ‘The natives have been hounded off the land. They’ve been hunted like dogs or else been plied with liquor so that they’ve drunk themselves to death. There’s not many of them left. Leave him. He’ll go when he’s ready.’

  Towards the end of the summer when the pond was almost empty and the creek was running dry, Joe came to Philip and said, ‘Mr Linton, if you don’t mind me saying so, this farm isn’t going to make a profit if you don’t get more stock. You could get a licence for running them into the hills outside your boundary.’

  Philip took stock of Joe as they stood on the veranda. His face was brown, his bare arms were strong and muscly and he looked every inch a farmer. ‘Come outside,’ he said. ‘I want to talk to you.’ The two women were in the kitchen preparing the evening meal and Philip and Joe strolled through the paddock at the front of the house. ‘I need to discuss something with you. I’ve seen how you work and I know that the one reason you work so hard is to obtain your freedom.’

  ‘That’s right, sir, and I might say that I wouldn’t have had such a good chance if you hadn’t come along. I couldn’t have had a better master. But I’ll leave when ’time’s right. I want to be my own master so it’s onny fair to warn you.’

  Philip nodded. ‘That’s what I guessed and now I’ll explain to you why I won’t be buying more stock or expanding the farm. The reason that I am here at all has nothing to do with me wanting to become a landowner or starting afresh in a new country. The only reason I am here is because of Emily.’

  Joe turned and stared. ‘Emily, sir? Well, I knew that you wanted her for your housekeeper, Meg telled me that, but Emily can come wi’ me when I start up on my own, you don’t have to feel behodden towards her!’

  ‘No. You don’t understand. I only came to this country because of Emily! I only discovered what had happened to her when it was too late to do anything about it. I obtained orders to sail on the Flying Swan when I heard she was on it.’

  He looked squarely at Joe, who stared in astonishment. ‘What are you telling me, Mr Linton? That Emily means summat to you?’

  ‘She does.’

  ‘But you’re a gentleman, sir. Emily’s onny a servant lass. She’s a good lass and a bonny one, but there’s no getting away from ’fact that that’s what she is! Course I know that some gentlemen do tek servant wenches for their mistresses, but –.’

  ‘That’s not what I want for Emily, Joe. And here’s the crux of the matter. There’s a ship sailing for England next week and I’ve obtained orders to sail with her. When I’m in England I shall stay until I’ve obtained Emily’s absolute pardon. Then I shall return and ask her to marry me.’

  Joe’s mouth remained open. Finally he said, ‘Well! I don’t know what to say! Does that mean you’ll tek her back or stop here? It’ll be no life for her in England. An ex-convict woman marrying above herself! No.’ He shook his head. ‘It’ll never work. You’ll have to stop here.’

  ‘That would be up to Emily. Besides, she might not have me.’ He smiled as he spoke, but his eyes looked anxious.

  ‘Not have you! She’d be a fool not to!’

  ‘I’m telling you this in confidence, Johnson.’ Philip became brisk at Joe’s comment. ‘Emily doesn’t know of my intentions or why I’m returning to England. I shall tell her that it’s to sort out my affairs. No point in building up her hopes.’

  ‘So why are you telling me, Mr Linton?’ Joe asked frankly. ‘There was no need.’

  ‘I’m telling you so that I’ll be sure that you’ll stay to look after things here, and to take care of Emily. You obviously have an affection for her.’

  ‘Aye, I onny want what’s best for her after all she’s been through. I’m not a violent man as I’ve said, but I could kill that bastard who destroyed her.’

  Philip gave a thin smile. ‘I have him in mind, never fear. He won’t escape lightly.’

  ‘I’ll stop, Mr Linton. I’ll look after ’farm as if it was my own.’ He put out his hand. ‘You have my word on it.’

  So can I trust a convict’s word? Philip pondered as he walked back alone to the house and Joe went towards the creek. But he has nowhere else to go. He’s a bit like the Aborigine, turned out of his own land, but unlike the native he has the chance to do something with the rest of his life. Should I have told him about my intentions towards Emily? And I didn’t like the implication that Emily would be a fool to turn me down, as if I was her best offer.

  Emily was sitting on the veranda and she got up as he came towards her. ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that, Emily.’ He was nervous over what he was going to say and spoke sharply.

  She looked startled.

  ‘You don’t have to get up every time I approach!’

  ‘It’s what I was taught, Mr Linton. It comes naturally now.’

  ‘But what if you were a lady?’ he admonished. ‘What would you do then?’

  ‘Why – I would remain seated, sir.’ She had an apprehensive expression as if she wasn’t sure whether he was serious or not. ‘And wait for the gentleman’s bow.’

  ‘Quite so!’ He gave her a quick smile to show he was teasing. ‘Come and sit over here with me. I have something to tell you.’

  They sat on either side of the table and she poured him a cool drink of lemonade from a jug. He drank and then, putting down the glass, said, ‘I saw Lieutenant Boyle in Sydney the other day. He told me of a ship sailing for England next week.’ A flush spread across her cheeks as he added, ‘I’ve obtained orders to sail with her.’ He looked away from her, across the land towards the creek, where Joe was striding back for his supper. ‘I’ve given Clavell the necessary authority to take decisions should there be any trouble here and Joe has promised he will oversee the farm in my absence.’

  ‘I didn’t think it would be yet,’ she whispered.

  He turned towards her and seeing her distress he impulsively reached across and took hold of her hand. ‘It has to be! It’s a fast ship and I might wait weeks for another. I have a special reason for returning home,’ he appealed. ‘I will come back as soon as I can. I promise.’

  ‘You may not want to when you see England again. It will be spring there, you’ll see the green fields and the blossom and the leaves curling open on the trees,’ she said wistfully. ‘I know I wouldn’t want to come back.’

  ‘But I also have a special reason for returning.’ He held fast to her hand and absentmindedly stroked it.

  ‘Ah, yes. You said you had to sort out your affairs at the bank. You’ll be able to expand the farm if you come back. Buy more land and sheep.’ She still looked pensive.

  ‘Do you think that’s the only reason I came here, Emily? Do you think that that was my design in coming here?’

  She lifted her eyes to his, but would not give an answer to the hidden question. ‘I have no right to question your motives, sir. I only know that you have changed my life.’ Then she looked away. ‘And I have given you nothing in return. You never asked,’ she said softly.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Philip thought of Emily as the ship sailed out of harbour and around the Heads and wondered if she was watching from the veranda as she had said that she would. One of the best things about the house was the magnificent view of Sydney Cove far below; to see in the harbour the crowded shipping fleet looking like toy ships, gathered from different parts of the world, from London or Shannon en route for China or New Zealand to trade in tea, silks, wool and other commodities.

  He thought of her as the ship battled around the Cape and the seas washed over the decks and the canvas sails ripped into shreds from the tenacity of the trade winds. And as they passed the Canaries and felt the heat he was glad that the ship had no passengers below decks but only a cargo of tea and Australian wool for the English market. He remembered tenderly the brightness in Emily’s eyes as he’d said goodbye and the startled flush as his emotions had got the better of him and he’d ki
ssed her cheek. He’d said goodbye to Meg, who told him that he mustn’t worry about Emily, that she would look after her, and he’d tickled Ralph under his chubby chin and thought of how he would have changed by the time of his return.

  They’ve all been like family, even Meg and Joe, he mused, when three months later they sailed into Portsmouth, and after being released from his duties he travelled first by coach and then on horseback to his parents’ home on the Yorkshire Wolds.

  ‘Such a relief to have you home, Philip.’ His mother beamed with delight. ‘It’s more of a worry, you know, when a son goes away than it is with one’s husband.’

  His father humphed at that and said, ‘Your mother’s done nothing but worry since you sailed, in spite of your letters!’

  ‘Mama thinks you went off in such a hurry because you were lovesick, Philip.’ His sister Anna smiled wickedly. ‘She said you were either running away from a lady or chasing after one.’

  He had the grace to blush. ‘You might well be right, Mother, but I don’t want to discuss it just now.’

  ‘You always were so stubborn, Philip,’ his mother said. ‘Just answer one question and then I will question you no further. Is she of good family?’

  ‘She has no family.’ Only a convict brother, he deliberated, and no point in telling of him.

  ‘Is she foreign?’ his mother persisted.

  ‘That’s two questions, Mother,’ he smiled. ‘But no, she is as English as a rose.’

  ‘Oh. So she’s fair!’ Louise said delightedly. ‘Is she as fair as me?’

  ‘I said I do not want to discuss her.’ Philip was firm, he knew well how his sisters could cajole and persuade if they had a mind to.

  ‘If there was a wedding I would wear blue,’ Louise said dreamily and Philip shook his head in resignation. When he took his leave of them he told them that he would come back as soon as he could.

  He took lodgings in Hull at the same house as previously, where he was sure of a warm feather bed and good food from his landlady. He then made his way to Mary Edwards’s florist’s shop in Whitefriargate.