An hour later, while her husband dozed in the chair, Muriel made her way up to the nursery floor. She was amazed to find how quiet it was, and when she pushed the door to the nursery open, she saw why. Susie was lying in her narrow little bed facing the wall while Agatha sat drinking tea and reading the newspaper.
The woman started, clearly annoyed at such an un-announced visit and rose to her feet, saying primly, ‘Can I help you, ma’am?’ Her voice was icy cold but not as cold as Muriel’s when she answered her.
‘Yes, you can tell me why that child is lying there wide awake when she could be outside in the fresh air.’
Muriel sniffed indignantly. ‘Miss Suzanne had her daily walk around the garden this morning, ma’am, and now she is having her afternoon nap.’
‘Afternoon nap!’ Susie had turned to peep out of the blankets at her and Muriel glared at Agatha. ‘She doesn’t look like she is napping to me. The child is wide awake and no doubt bored to tears. Get her up immediately and take her for a walk in the park at the bottom of the road. Let her use some of her energy up. And then when you get back, you can prepare her to dine downstairs with her parents and my husband and myself.’
‘But I’ve already told her mother that I think the food would be too ri—’
‘Oh, for goodness sake, woman! Don’t talk such claptrap!’ Muriel barked. She had never been one to hold her tongue. ‘Do as I say immediately.’ And with that, she smiled at Suzanne and sailed from the room like a ship in full sail.
‘Why . . .’ Agatha was furious as she approached Susie’s bed and yanked her none too gently out of it. ‘Get yourself dressed,’ she spat. ‘It seems that your dear grandmama thinks she knows what’s better for you than I do! And make it snappy or you’ll be sorry!’
Susie did as she was told without a word, fumbling with the buttons on her dress and at last she stood before Agatha fully clothed. The woman looked her up and down; then, gripping Susie’s hand, she hauled her towards the door, grumbling all the time.
Outside, Agatha stamped along the street, dragging Susie along beside her. ‘Interfering old bitch!’ she muttered, but Susie was too busy watching what was going on around her to hear her. She felt as if she had been released from a prison and was enjoying stretching her legs, even if it meant having to be in Nanny’s company.
Once at the park, they took a turn around the lake and Susie was fascinated and envious as she saw some other children there with their nannies. Some were racing about, others were sailing little boats on the water, and others were kicking a brightly coloured ball across the grass, but Agatha kept a firm grip on her hand and yanked her straight by them, giving her no chance to say hello. There was a family of swans on the lake too and Susie would have liked to pause to watch them, but Agatha never slowed her pace and soon the little girl was breathless; her legs were nowhere near as long as Agatha’s and she was having to run to keep up with her.
‘Ca-can we stop for a minute? I have a stitch in my side,’ she gasped, but Agatha merely grinned.
‘Hm, I was right, you see. Didn’t I tell the woman that you needed your rest?’
‘I-it’s not that,’ Susie said breathlessly. ‘It’s just that you’re walking too fast for me.’
‘Don’t you dare answer me back, you little guttersnipe!’ Agatha warned her with a malevolent glare. ‘Else you’ll be sorry when I get you back to the nursery, my girl!’
‘Sorry,’ Susie whispered in a small voice, as she thought of the hard wooden hairbrush Nanny had hit her with the night before. And all because she had dared to tell her during teatime that she needed to go to the toilet.
‘How dare you bring up such things while we are eating?’ Agatha had ranted at her. ‘That’s disgusting. In future, you will go when I tell you and sit on the toilet until I tell you to get off.’
Susie had been too afraid to argue and now, as they marched along, she wondered what a guttersnipe was? Perhaps she could ask her new grandmama? She seemed to be kind and Susie bet she would know.
By the time they got back to the nursery, Susie’s cheeks were glowing and her legs were feeling tired – but there was no time to rest, as Agatha took pleasure in telling her.
‘It’s time to get you ready for dinner downstairs and it will serve all of them right if you fall asleep halfway through,’ she said maliciously. ‘Perhaps then they’ll listen to someone who knows what they’re doing with children!’
Susie stood quite still while the woman yanked the dress she was wearing over her head then tried not to cry out as she viciously swiped the brush through her tangle of long dark curls.
‘All this hair is so unnecessary,’ Agatha grumbled, as she finally secured it with a blue ribbon to match her dress. ‘I’m a firm believer that too much hair saps children’s strength and I might have a word with your mama and ask her if I can cut it off. It would be so much more manageable if it were chin-length.’
Susie didn’t like that idea at all, but again she said nothing – and when the maid arrived to take her downstairs, she followed her out of the room quickly, glad to get away from Nanny for a while.
Susie still found it hard to address Alicia and Matthew as Mama and Papa, but she had to admit that they were kind and she enjoyed the meal tremendously. There was a lovely thick soup to start with, followed by some sort of fish that had been cooked in butter, and finally there was a pudding that consisted of a chocolate sponge drizzled in fresh cream. It was certainly a far cry from the bread and butter that Nanny made her eat in the nursery, although unfortunately she had managed to spill some down the front of her dress.
‘Don’t get worrying about that, darling,’ Alicia told her as she saw the child dabbing ineffectively at it with her handkerchief. ‘Nanny can send it down to be washed. You have plenty more that you can wear.’
Her grandmother gave her a crafty wink.
Susie responded with a smile, before suddenly remembering something and asking innocently, ‘What’s a guttersnipe?’
Chapter Sixteen
It was as if time had ceased to exist for Charlie. For days after the barbaric whipping, he lay in the infirmary, which in actual fact consisted of no more than two beds in a cabin, drifting in and out of consciousness. But then, over a week after the event, he woke one morning and felt slightly better – until he tried to turn over that was, and then he groaned with pain.
‘Ah, you’re awake at last, old chap; how are you feeling?’ the doctor asked. He had been tending Charlie night and day, and there had been times when he wasn’t sure if he was going to make it – but now at last it appeared that he had turned a corner.
‘A . . . little better.’ Charlie licked his dry lips, and the doctor rose to fetch him a cup of water.
‘Just a little sip at a time now, lad,’ he cautioned, as he gently turned Charlie’s head to the side and dripped a little water into his mouth. The open wounds on Charlie’s back were beginning to scab now, so much so that he almost appeared to have grown a shell – but thanks to the doctor’s care, none of the wounds had become infected.
‘L-little Jimmy?’ he asked.
The doctor patted his arm. ‘Don’t worry. I saw to it that he had a proper burial at sea. I even got the captain to say a few words as they committed his body to the deep. He’s at peace now, son, so try not to think of it anymore.’
‘Thank you.’ Charlie turned his head to the wall, but couldn’t prevent a tear from rolling down his cheek. A young life for a loaf of bread; what a price to pay!
They had been at sea for eight weeks when Charlie finally ventured out of bed; unfortunately the movement caused the remaining scabs on his back to split and bleed again, but it couldn’t be helped. He felt if he lay there for much longer, he would go mad. Doctor Hardy tied a bandage soaked in lotion about him to stop the wounds from sticking to his shirt, and at least then he could sit in a chair and watch the activity on the deck. Meals were delivered to him three times a day, and although he had little appetite Charlie forced hi
mself to eat them.
Thankfully conditions had improved vastly for the prisoners since the day he had been whipped. They were now allowed up on deck twice a day for exercise, and the captain had insisted that while they were confined below, their chains should be removed. They were also allowed to have water to wash with daily, which went a long way to improving the stench in their quarters, as did the fact that the toilet buckets were now also emptied on a more regular basis.
One day when the doctor was in the infirmary treating one of the prisoners who had developed a nasty ulcer on his leg, Charlie dared to ask him, ‘I don’t suppose you would have anything to read, would you?’
The doctor looked at him in surprise. ‘You can read?’ Most of the convicts he had known could only sign their names with a cross.
‘Of course I can.’ Charlie stared back at him. ‘And I’m good with figures too.’
‘I see. Then in that case you may be able to help me. I’m afraid I have nothing you might care to read on board, apart from medical journals. But I don’t mind admitting I hate record-keeping. Would you be interested in having a go at that for me, if I told you what to write?’
Charlie nodded eagerly. He was prepared to do anything that might relieve the boredom of sitting there all day.
Doctor Hardy left his patient for a moment to fetch a large journal, which he placed on the table in front of Charlie. ‘You need to write the date and time there; then here we put the prisoner’s name.’ He pointed to a box. ‘We then enter what the problem was, in this case an abscess, and what treatment I used to remedy it. In this instance I have lanced it and dressed it with ointment. I will need to see the patient again tomorrow and should further treatment be necessary, you can enter that for me too.’
While he finished dressing the man’s wound, Charlie did as he was told as neatly as he could, which was no mean feat as the boat was rolling quite alarmingly. After one of the sailors had escorted the prisoner back to the hold, the doctor took the journal from Charlie and examined what he had done.
‘Your handwriting is actually a damn sight neater than mine,’ he observed, grinning. ‘Consider yourself hired. As it happens, there are a few entries I haven’t got around to doing yet, so I’ll tell you what they are and you can write them in for me.’
Charlie’s chest puffed with pride and an hour later the journal was up to date. The doctor smiled at Charlie. ‘Well done, son. I’m going to pop along and see the captain later. He might have something for you to read to keep you occupied. I can’t see you being able to go below again before we reach Australia, not with some of those wounds still being open – it’d be risking infection. Come on, back to the bed. It’s time we dressed them again.’
Charlie painfully did as he was told and as Doctor Hardy looked down at the wounds, he shook his head. This boy would be scarred for life and all because he had tried to get help for another young lad.
It was almost five weeks later when Charlie was writing in the journal one day that a shout went up. ‘Land ahoy!’
Instantly, those on deck flocked to the rails, chattering excitedly as in the distance they saw a coastline emerging from the ocean.
‘I think we’ll dock sometime this evening,’ the kindly doctor told Charlie when he entered the infirmary shortly after.
Charlie was now able to potter about, although it still pained him to lift his arms. Many of the scabs had fallen away from the wounds now, leaving long, red weals in their place. The doctor had assured him that they would fade to a silver colour in time, but Charlie wasn’t too concerned about that. At least he had survived, thanks to the intervention of the captain.
From that moment on, the ship was buzzing with excitement. It was now late in November, and back home they would be shivering in the cold of winter, so it was strange to think that here in this foreign country it was summer. Although it didn’t feel like the summers he was used to: the sun was blazing in a cloudless blue sky and as they approached land, brightly coloured birds that Charlie had never seen before began to circle high above the ship. The doctor allowed him to go out on to the deck, and as the ship drew closer to land, Charlie saw a huddle of wooden huts and buildings. Surely this couldn’t be New South Wales? he thought. He had imagined it would be a huge place, something resembling London, with grand buildings and ordered streets, but this was more like the shanty towns he had seen in books.
The ship dropped anchor some way off shore, and waited for a boat to come and guide it in to the dock. There were many people waiting for it, for as well as bringing a new influx of convicts, it also carried much needed supplies and animals: cows, sheep and chickens. Some of them had not survived the journey, but those that had would be fought over and highly prized.
Darkness was falling by the time the ship was led into the harbour, and as soon as it was secured, the sailors began to haul the gangplanks into place. First the supplies of wheat, flour and other food were unloaded and then the animals walked shakily down the gangplanks, looking confused after their long journey.
The doctor joined Charlie at the rail and, pointing to a number of men, he said, ‘They are the convict overseers and the military guards. Once the convicts are delivered to them they will be segregated into groups. The most hardened criminals will be sent to prisons on the outskirts of the town. During the day they will do hard labour – digging roads and breaking rocks. Those with trades will be given work accordingly wherever possible. Every trade is welcome here from tailors to shopkeepers. The women convicts will probably end up doing domestic duties – cooking, cleaning washing and ironing. Troublesome female prisoners will be sent to the Female Factory, where they will make rope and spin and make carded wool. Most of them will marry quickly, though, and hopefully make a life here when they have served their time. There’s only about one or two women to ten men here, so it’s better if they do marry – it causes less hassle.’
‘Convicts get married here?’ Charlie asked in surprise.
‘Oh yes.’ He chuckled. ‘If a man takes a fancy to a woman, all he has to do is approach her and drop a handkerchief or scarf at her feet and if the woman is willing and the governor approves it, the marriage can take place almost immediately. Those that work hard are rewarded; they can apply to the governor to bring their families here if they want to make a new life, and in some cases they can be assigned to free settler families, so I’d advise you to keep your head down and work hard. Have you had any experience of farm work?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Charlie replied. ‘My father worked for a farmer and so did I once I left school.’
‘In that case, I shall personally have a word on your behalf with the governor, Charlie. And thank you for the help you’ve given me during the voyage.’ He had actually grown very fond of the lad.
‘It should be me thanking you, sir,’ Charlie told him. ‘I doubt I’d have survived had it not been for you.’
The doctor shrugged to hide his embarrassment.
‘But what happens when a prisoner’s served his sentence?’ Charlie asked then. The time couldn’t pass quickly enough for him – he just wanted to get home and try to put what was left of his family back together again.
‘The governor will issue you with an Absolute Pardon, which means that you are free to return to England should you so wish. But step aside, lad. It looks like they’re bringing the first of the convicts up from below.’
Sure enough, the first of the men appeared from the holds and, once more chained and shackled, they shuffled towards the gangplank. When they reached the bottom and stepped on to dry land, just as the doctor had explained, Charlie heard the overseers shouting out names and the men being divided into groups before being marched away.
‘So what do I do now?’ Charlie asked as the captain joined them at the rail.
‘I am giving you permission to stay on board for now,’ the captain advised him above the rattle of chains and rumble of barrels being rolled down the second gangplank. ‘The doctor and I are dining with the gov
ernor and his wife this evening and I am going to speak to him about you. That’s his residence up on the hill there.’
He pointed up and for the first time, Charlie noticed a rather palatial residence perched amongst the trees on the hillside. He had expected Australia to be lush and green so was quite disappointed to discover that it actually looked very parched and dry. All the roads through the town were dry earth, and he could see clouds of dust rising into the air as people passed along them.
‘Thank you, sir,’ Charlie answered. ‘I’ll wait in the infirmary until you come back.’
But he didn’t want to go back in there just yet. There was too much to see, so he stayed at the rails drinking in the sight of dry land after all the long, harsh weeks at sea.
Charlie watched one group of men being led away still in chains. As for the others, he noticed that some of the men had their chains removed and were led away by people who had been waiting on the quayside. Charlie guessed these might be settlers who were looking for workers on their farms.
Those men would be the lucky ones, so long as they behaved themselves, and he almost wished he was going with them. It would have been nice to work on the land again, although because of the climate, he imagined it would be a lot harder to grow crops, which accounted for all the supplies of flour and other foodstuffs that were being delivered.
When all the male convicts had been sorted, the women prisoners were brought up from their hold. It was the first time Charlie had seen them properly, apart from the odd glimpses of them from the window of the infirmary, for they had not been allowed on deck with the male convicts. They ranged from very young to middle-aged. Charlie saw that there were a number of men still standing below, no doubt waiting for a glimpse of them to see if there were any who would make suitable wives.
The Winter Promise Page 12