The Winter Promise

by Rosie Goodwin

  ‘So, if he’s to stay, have yer thought of a name for him?’ Eve asked, as she carried the bathful of dirty water towards the back door.

  ‘Yes . . . I shall call him Charlie.’ A lump formed in Opal’s throat as she thought of the dog’s namesake, but then she rose and shook the damp patches on her gown.

  ‘Well, yer can leave him here wi’ us now, ma’am,’ the cook said good-naturedly. ‘We’ll see as he’s all right, won’t we, Eve?’

  Opal smiled. It seemed that Charlie had two more allies as well as herself. Now she just had to wait to see what Henry’s reaction to the new addition to the family would be, and she had an idea it wasn’t going to be a very good one. No doubt Mrs Wood would break her neck to tell him about Charlie the second he walked through the door, but she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

  Sure enough, some hours later Henry entered their bedroom with a face like thunder.

  She smiled a welcome as she laid the book she had been reading aside, but he asked instantly, ‘What’s this I’m hearing from Mrs Wood? That you’ve brought some mangy mongrel into the house?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Outwardly she was calm, but inside she was quaking. ‘He is a stray who has been badly neglected and I thought he might be company for me.’

  Henry frowned. ‘But surely you have enough to fill your days without having to waste time on some stray dog?’

  ‘As it happens I don’t,’ she told him boldly. ‘And I have an idea that this might be something to do with your friend, Esther Partridge. She has made no secret of the fact that she thinks I am not good enough to be your wife, and I suspect she has poisoned the minds of the ladies who I have sent invites to, who have all politely declined.’

  Henry looked vaguely uncomfortable. He had no doubt that she was right, although he hoped that with time people would accept Opal.

  ‘I can assure you that you won’t even know the dog is here,’ she went on. ‘He will not be allowed into the main part of the house while you are in and at least I can take him for walks when you are out, which will keep me entertained and give me a purpose.’

  ‘But if you had wanted a dog, I would have bought you one that had been well bred. There is no need for you to take in a mongrel.’

  ‘But I like him and I don’t care what breed he is.’ Opal had sat up in bed now, and through her nightgown he glimpsed the shape of her pert nipples and instantly felt himself hardening.

  ‘In that case, I suppose he may stay . . . just as long as you keep him out of my way.’

  He was clumsily throwing his clothes off now and Opal lay back against the pillows knowing what was to come. Yet strangely this evening, she didn’t mind. She felt as if she had scored a minor victory over Mrs Wood now that Henry had agreed to allow the dog to stay, and if this was the price she had to pay, then so be it.

  The vet called the next day and, after examining Charlie, he left a pot of ointment for his wounds and another to treat his mange. He had told Opal that he thought the dog could be anywhere between two and four years old and that, apart from his wounds and being grossly underweight, he appeared to be healthy.

  Charlie already had the cook and the maids eating out of his paw, and the outside staff seemed to have taken a shine to him too. Opal bought him a collar and lead, and soon she was a regular sight in the area walking him. Suddenly she felt as if she had someone she could confide in again, and the second Henry left the house he was allowed to have free run of the rooms, although she wasn’t quite brave enough to let him into the bedroom. She felt Henry would have put his foot down at that. Charlie made Opal’s life a little more bearable, and in no time at all she loved the little mutt unreservedly.

  As well as looking after Charlie, she turned her efforts to the forthcoming dinner party, determined to make it as good as it could be. She sat for hours planning the menu with the cook, much to Mrs Wood’s disgust, who felt that this should have been her job – but like Henry, she was discovering that the young mistress wasn’t quite as pliable as they had expected her to be.

  On the day of the party, fresh flowers were delivered and Opal spent the morning making table decorations that would be dotted amongst the silver candelabra. Delicious smells were issuing from the kitchen, and soon it was time to go and change into the new gown that Henry had insisted she should have especially for the occasion.

  It was much more elaborate than anything she had ever owned before in a pale-green silk that clung to her waist before billowing out into a full embroidered skirt. It had a low-cut neckline and once she was dressed and Eve had helped her pile her hair into curls on top of her head, the little maid declared, ‘Eeh, you look like a princess, ma’am.’

  ‘I feel like one, actually.’ Opal chuckled as she fingered the strand of fine pearls about her neck. They had been a wedding present from Henry, and she had rarely worn them before.

  There was a little bubble of excitement growing in her stomach, and although she tried to deny it to herself, she knew it was due to the fact that very shortly she would be in Matthew Darby-Jones’s company again. Even though she knew nothing could ever come of her feelings, no other man had ever made her feel the way she had when she had danced in his arms, and she doubted that anyone ever would again. She could not wait to see him.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  ‘I think this is the end o’ the road fer me, me old mate,’ Digger told Charlie one evening, as they sat round their campfire eating roast wombat. The weather was improving, but the winter had taken its toll on him, leaving him with a hacking cough, and now he was ready to cash in their stash of gold and move on to pastures new. Digger never stayed at any one thing for long, especially when he had money in his pocket.

  They had gained another helper a couple of months before in the shape of an Aboriginal chap called Nullah. He had come across them and offered to stay to help, and they had welcomed him with open arms. Since he had arrived they had never gone short of meat. Armed with his slingshot, Nullah had ventured into the woods each evening and had proved to be a dab hand at hunting. He had also directed them to some good seams of gold, and although they hadn’t found enough to make a fortune, they knew that once they had weighed it in there would be enough for both of them to live comfortably for some months to come.

  ‘This outdoor life is fine fer a while,’ Digger went on, fingering his long, greying beard. ‘But then I gets a yearnin’ fer a drink or two an’ a soft feather bed, so I’m throwin’ the towel in come mornin’ an’ headin’ fer civilisation.’

  Nullah looked between the two men, frowning. ‘We can go to weighing shop in Orange County,’ he told them. ‘They pay fair money, an’ then per’aps you an’ me, boss, could head for Lightning Ridge? Good opals to be found there, worth even more than gold. Black opals, much wanted!’ He stared at Charlie hopefully.

  Charlie shrugged noncommittally, trying to hide the jolt of pain that had lanced through him when Nullah had said ‘opal’. How he longed to be reunited with his sister. He hated to think what could have happened to her during the years they had been apart. What if she had succumbed to fever, as his parents and Jack had? Could all his attempts to make enough money to go back and support his sisters be for nothing?

  He cleared his throat as he choked back his emotion. ‘I’m not so sure, Nullah. To be honest, I wouldn’t know an opal if one hit me in the eye.’

  ‘Ah, but I would.’ Nullah thumped his chest.

  ‘Hm, I’ll sleep on it,’ Charlie promised. If they were to pack up camp the next morning, they had a long trek ahead of them through gruelling forest and countryside before they reached Orange County, so there would be plenty of time to make up his mind. But for now, he was dog-tired; so, throwing some wood on to the fire to keep the critters away, he crawled beneath his tarpaulin and almost instantly fell asleep.

  As they trudged wearily into the town some days later, Charlie suddenly felt claustrophobic. He had spent so long isolated in the forest that to be surrounded by people
and noise again made him panic, although outwardly he was calm. He no longer resembled the young man he had been when he first set out on his adventure nearly six months before. Through hours and hours of tirelessly digging and sifting, his arms were now heavily muscled and his shoulders were broad. He had grown too and now towered over six foot tall. His skin was deeply tanned from long hours spent out in the sun and his long hair was tied with string in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. His beard was so long that it touched his chest and Digger saw him glimpse longingly at the barber’s shop as they headed for the stables.

  ‘We’ll see to the old girl here an’ get her settled, an’ then we’ll go an’ weigh our gold in.’

  Charlie nodded in agreement, aware that they must look a very strange sight. Charlie thought longingly of a nice hot bath with real soap to wash with. Their only means of bathing for the last months had been a dip in the river, and their clothes were stiff with dirt.

  Noticing that Nullah was hanging back, Charlie paused to ask, ‘Is everything all right, Nullah?’

  The man shook his head. ‘I not comfortable in towns, boss. I prefer to sleep in the wild.’

  ‘But when we’ve given you your share, you can come and stay in a hotel with us,’ Charlie told him.

  The man took a step backward. ‘No . . . I go now. If you decide you want to go to Lightning Ridge, you be here each night at six o’clock. If you not come for a month, I go on my way.’

  ‘But what about your share of the money?’

  Nullah grinned, revealing a row of strong white teeth in his black face. ‘I have all I need out there. Goodbye for now, boss.’ And with that he was gone, leaving Charlie to stare after him.

  ‘So are yer goin’ to stand there gawpin’ all day?’ Digger’s voice brought his attention back to what they were doing and once again they set off for the livery stable where their old donkey would get a well-earned rest.

  Two hours later, after settling the animal in the stable and coming out of the weighing office with a pocketful of money each, Charlie and Digger stood facing each other in the main street of the town.

  ‘So, shall we go and find a hotel where we can have a good meal and get a good night’s sleep?’ Charlie suggested.

  Digger shook his head. ‘No, lad. I’m back off to the colony afore I do that. I allus end up back there, probably because it’s close to where me missus an’ me little ’un are laid to rest. I’ll spend some o’ me dosh then. No doubt I’ll hit the trail again on me next money-makin’ adventure but this is the partin’ o’ the roads fer us.’ He held out his hand and shook Charlie’s warmly. ‘But I have to say, it’s been a pleasure spendin’ time wi’ you, lad, an’ I wish you all the best. Just take a word of advice though . . . don’t leave it too long afore you decide to go back to yer roots. From what you’ve told me you still have kin in England, an’ as I know to me cost there ain’t nothin’ as precious as family – not any amount of gold or gems.’

  Charlie felt a lump rise in his throat. For all his rough and ready ways, he had grown close to Digger during the time they had spent together.

  ‘But what shall I do about the cart and the donkey and all the tools? They’re half yours by rights.’

  Digger waved his hand airily, already looking towards the open road beyond the town. ‘Keep ’em. I’ll have no use of ’em for some time, an’ if need be I’ll replace ’em. Goodbye, lad.’

  With that he swung his heavy bag on to his shoulder and set off whistling merrily, leaving Charlie to chew thoughtfully on his lip. Digger was right. He did still have sisters somewhere back in England and never a day went by when he didn’t think of them . . . but was he ready to go home yet? It would need some thinking about, he decided, as he turned and strode towards the hotel.

  After booking into the hotel, he soaked for an hour in a steaming hot bath then made his way to the barber where he had a shave and a haircut. The next stop was the tailor, where he was measured and told that the tailor could alter one of the suits he had already made ready for Charlie the next day.

  Charlie was too embarrassed to go down to the dining room that evening in the clothes he had, so he dined alone in his room and slept like a baby from the second his head hit the pillow. He had forgotten what it was like to sleep in a comfortable bed, and not have to keep one eye open for critters that might stray too close.

  Bright and early the next morning, he set off for the tailor and when he emerged almost an hour later with his old work clothes in a bag, he was unrecognisable.

  Over the next week, as he rested, Charlie tried to make up his mind about what he should do. On the one hand the thought of following Digger back to the colony, so that he might get a passage on the next ship home, was tempting. But on the other hand, if he were to go with Nullah to find opals and become rich, then when he went home he would be in a position to give Opal and Susie an easy life. He might even pluck up the courage to go and see Francesca. And so, his mind kept swinging first one way and then the next.

  Already he was growing bored of having nothing to do, so that evening he set off to the saloon bar up the street. The raucous sound of laughter and music hit him the second he set foot through the door and the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume was so overpowering that it made his eyes water. Within seconds of getting a tankard of ale, he found himself surrounded by a crowd of gaudily dressed, heavily made-up women wearing dresses that were so low cut they were almost indecent. They flirted with him shamelessly, each vying for his attention, but all Charlie could see was Francesca’s face before his eyes. So, draining his tankard as quickly as he could, he left hurriedly, without giving them so much as a backward glance.

  Late the following afternoon as he sat staring moodily from the window of his hotel, he made a decision. Tonight he would go and meet Nullah and tell him that he was going with him. With his mind made up, he set off and sure enough just as the clock on the little wooden church chimed six, the Aborigine appeared.

  ‘You make your mind up what you do, boss?’

  ‘Yes, I’m coming with you,’ Charlie told him, clapping him on the shoulder.

  ‘Then we need to go to hardware store and buy pickaxes and shovels. Mining for opals very different to mining for gold.’

  Charlie nodded. ‘We’ll do that first thing in the morning, then we can settle the bill at the livery store and set off, if you want to.’

  Nullah grinned happily as he turned and walked away, leaving Charlie to enjoy his last night of comfort for goodness knew how long.

  After a leisurely dinner in the dining room that evening, Charlie went to sit outside and smoke a cigar as he watched the world go by. His one regret was that he couldn’t write to Opal or Susie, for he had no idea where they might be by now. But even so, he had no doubt that when he did return home he would have no trouble finding Opal, at least. Nuneaton was only a small market town, so surely somebody somewhere would know where she was, and then he would buy them a little house to live in where they wouldn’t have to worry about paying the rent. Perhaps Opal would already have found Susie and they could all live together. His thoughts flew back to the old dilapidated cottage they had stayed in at Rapper’s Hole, and he sighed. Somehow thoughts of the cottage strengthened his resolve to do well and make enough money to make up to his sisters for all the hardships they had suffered.

  The next morning, he ate a hearty breakfast and after packing his new clothes carefully away he got back into his work clothes and went downstairs to settle his bill. Next he headed for the livery stable, only to find Nullah already there and waiting for him. The donkey, too, was well rested, so after harnessing her to the old cart they stopped at the grocer to buy food supplies and finally the hardware shop, where they purchased everything they would need. In no time at all they were heading out of town towards Lightning Ridge, and Nullah grinned. ‘I have feeling in my bones that we be lucky, boss,’ he told him.

  Charlie grinned back as he urged the donkey forward. ‘Let’s just hop
e you’re right, Nullah; my future depends on it.’

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Peter and Emma, with Matthew and Alicia close behind them, were the last to arrive. Once the maid had taken their hats and coats, Henry ushered them into the dining room, where the other guests were already seated at the table enjoying a glass of wine.

  The conversation was lively; everyone clearly knew each other well, and Opal felt slightly out of things. To make matters worse, the Partridges had been invited and Esther had been glaring spitefully at her all evening. Thankfully, Mrs King was also there, to make sure she was included in the conversation, for it was soon clear that some of the ladies – friends of Esther’s – were studiously ignoring her.

  ‘I must say, my dear, the table looks lovely,’ Mrs King praised loudly enough for everyone to hear her. ‘I have no doubt you will be a real asset to my son.’

  A murmur of grudging agreement rippled round the table.

  ‘Dear Opal has already made a start on redecorating the house, haven’t you, dear?’ Mrs King went on. ‘And a rather grand job she’s making of it too. If any of you need any tips on interior design, you should call on her. She seems to have a flair for it.’

  Thankfully the conversation moved on then, but not before she noticed Matthew give a cheeky grin across the table. Opal was painfully aware that he was sitting just yards away from her. She had also noticed that his wife didn’t look at all well, and this was explained when Alicia told the ladies, ‘I wasn’t sure that I would be able to make this trip, but Matthew thought it might do me good to get out of the house for a while. I’ve been quite unwell for a time, although the doctors cannot say why. I think I must just be a little run down.’