The Locket of Dreams

by Belinda Murrell

  ‘Do you play the piano, Charlotte?’ asked Annie.

  ‘Not very well,’ Charlotte confessed. ‘I have not played for such a long time.’

  ‘Do you think you might play us something?’ Annie requested. ‘We promise not to tease you if you make a mistake.’

  So Charlotte sat at the old piano, which was a little out of tune, and softly played one of her favourite Scottish ballads. Her fingers were rusty at first, but she soon improved.

  It was pleasantly warm in front of the fire, after the large meal, and Nell was soon suppressing a yawn.

  ‘Oh, you poor wee mites must be exhausted,’ Annie exclaimed. ‘Why do you not go along to bed now? You boys need to get some sleep too.’

  So they said their goodnights and crept off to sleep in a real bed.

  The next morning, like most mornings at Rosedale, dawned fair and bright, with a clear blue sky and sunshine. The mornings and evenings were chilly, as it was early spring, but the middle of the day was quite warm.

  The girls yawned and stretched, not wanting to get up, but finally curiosity got the better of them and they decided to get up and dressed so they could explore. Sophie could not wait, so swooped ahead of them to see what she could see.

  The house seemed empty and quiet. Charlotte and Nell wandered out onto the verandah to see if they could see anyone. Mala was asleep in the crook of the gum tree. She yawned sleepily as Charlotte and Nell patted her.

  Will was sauntering across the yard carrying a bucket of kitchen scraps, with Nicky and Tiger walking at his heels. The two dogs came gambolling over to greet the girls and happily licked their fingers. They sniffed suspiciously at Sophie but did not bark.

  Charlotte thought of Flossie and wondered how she was and if she was missing them as terribly as they were missing her.

  ‘Good morning, Charlotte. Good morning, Nell,’ Will called cheerily. ‘Come and help me feed the poultry and I will show you around.’

  ‘Good morning, Will,’ answered the girls, a little awkwardly. But their shyness was soon forgotten as Will showed them around, explaining everything as they went.

  The homestead sat on a small rise, with a picturesque view looking back down the valley, over the creek to the steep hills beyond. The house itself was surrounded by a large fenced garden designed to keep out chickens, sheep, emus, horses and kangaroos. Mr Gregory was working in the garden, weeding and digging.

  Pot, the Aboriginal boy, was helping him, carrying buckets of water from the pump to water the vegetables.

  ‘Mother loves her garden,’ explained Will. ‘She says it reminds her of her home back in Scotland, though she says the plants grow much faster and stronger here, as long as they get plenty of water. We grow all our own fruit and vegetables too.’

  The garden closest to the house included wide beds of roses, daisies, lavender, geraniums, camellias and spring bulbs just starting to bloom. Sophie buried her nose in the lavender to enjoy its scent.

  Further to the left were the kitchen gardens, filled with neat rows of vegetables and herbs: peas, beans, carrots, cabbage, spinach, lettuce, cucumbers, melons, pumpkin, onions, potatoes, shallots, thyme, marjoram, peppermint and chamomile.

  Lemon and orange, apple and peach, cherry and plum trees grew to the right, in the orchard.

  ‘Christabel. Joey,’ called Will, holding out his hand.

  Will’s two pet wallabies jumped over and eagerly nibbled some scraps from the girls’ hands.

  ‘What darlings,’ exclaimed Nell, taking off her gloves to pat the wallabies’ heads.

  ‘They are beauties, aren’t they?’ Will said. ‘The shepherds shot their mothers, then we found the joeys still alive in their pouches.

  ‘Father said I could raise them as pets, so I kept them in a sugar bag hanging on the kitchen door. I fed them milk until they were old enough to fend for themselves. They can go back to the wild whenever they fancy, however they prefer to live around the house and eat the kitchen scraps.

  ‘Gregory is furious when they break into the vegetable garden and eat his precious plants. I’ve had them for a couple of years now, so they are as tame as anything.’

  The kitchen, laundry and storehouse were built just behind the main house, connected by a roofed path.

  Outside the garden fence and behind the main house were the outbuildings: a stable, barn and carriage house, men’s quarters, the dairy, fowl yards and pigsty, with the home paddock and stockyards behind these.

  A number of horses were grazing in the paddock, with the two emus, Ernestina and Edward, pecking between their legs. In the stockyards five calves were locked up, bellowing loudly for their mothers.

  ‘Mrs Gregory is milking the cows,’ explained Will. ‘We catch a few of the cows each evening, lock them away from their calves for the night, milk the mothers in the morning, then let them all go.’

  Will showed Charlotte and Nell into the poultry yards, where there were sixty fowls, seven fluffy yellow chicks, a glossy red rooster and a couple of dozen green-and-brown ducks scratching in the soil. Will dumped half the bucket of scraps on the soil.

  He gathered up a couple of large duck eggs and slid them under one of the broody hens sitting on a nest in a box inside the henhouse.

  ‘The ducks are too silly to hatch their own eggs,’ Will explained, ‘so we give them to the hens to hatch. We are expecting a new batch of chicks to hatch in a couple of weeks. Now we need to gather up some eggs for our breakfast.’

  Charlotte and Nell willingly hunted around the yard for some freshly laid eggs. Next they visited the pigsty and fed the pigs the remainder of the scraps, before wandering back to the kitchen.

  The kitchen was a large room with a huge fire at one end and ovens set into the chimney. A long scrubbed table, which was covered in the preparations for breakfast, dominated the centre of the room.

  Annie and Mrs Gregory were in the storeroom that led off the kitchen, discussing the menu and food supplies needed for the day. Annie kept the storeroom locked when it wasn’t in use, carrying the key at her waist.

  Through the open door, Charlotte and Nell could see shelves of jars, canisters, sacks and bags. The meat was kept outside in a meat safe, with water dripping down the hessian sides to keep the meat cool. Sophie was interested in everything, peeking inside the meat safe and the storeroom.

  Mr McLaughlin and Henry had been out riding around the property, checking on the various shepherds and flocks of sheep, which were lambing. They were riding back now, ready for breakfast, both carrying odd-shaped bundles on the front of their saddles.

  ‘Good morning, everyone,’ called Mr McLaughlin as he dismounted and tied his horse to the other side of the fence. ‘Nell and Charlotte, we have presents for you.’

  Nell, Charlotte and Sophie rushed over to see what the odd damp bundles were wrapped in hessian sacks. They were newborn lambs.

  ‘Sadly they are orphans,’ Mr McLaughlin explained. ‘Their mothers died during the night, so I thought you might like to raise them as your own pets. Will can show you how to feed them.’

  Charlotte’s heart leapt with anticipation. The lambs were crinkly and velvety and baaed loudly once they were released from their sacks. Will fetched two ceramic baby bottles from the kitchen, and milk from the dairy. Nell and Charlotte each fed one lamb.

  First they dipped their fingers in milk and let the lambs suck the milk from their fingertips, their tails wagging madly.

  ‘I shall call mine Polly,’ decided Nell, stroking her lamb’s woolly head.

  ‘And mine shall be Lucy,’ added Charlotte. ‘We can tie coloured ribbons around their necks so we know which one is which.’

  When the lambs seemed to be sucking lustily on their fingers, the girls tried to feed them from the bottles, dribbling the milk into their mouths, loudly encouraged by Will. When the bell rang for breakfast the girls were sticky with spilt milk, but laughing at the wobbly antics of the lambs.

  Will showed them where to wash at the tub in the laundry, wher
e a hand pump brought water up from the creek. They dried their faces and hands on a cloth, and hurried into the dining room.

  Annie, Henry and Mr McLaughlin were already seated, while Mrs Gregory carried in a tray laden with food. There was porridge, ham, poached eggs, toast, preserves, tea and coffee.

  The family was all busily eating when Henry noticed something unusual.

  ‘Look, Tipsy has brought us a present,’ Henry exclaimed, as a black-and-white cat slipped through the door, carrying something in its mouth.

  ‘Not a rat, I hope,’ cried Annie, looking squeamish.

  ‘No, worse than that,’ Henry replied, standing up slowly. ‘A black snake!’

  Everyone turned to face the cat, who was now sitting proudly displaying her gift. She held a long black snake just behind the head, its body stretched out for five feet along the floorboards, its belly gleaming a coppery red. The tail thrashed and whipped as the venomous snake struggled to get free.

  Annie screamed in shock, knocking her chair over backwards. Sophie jumped. She hated snakes.

  ‘It’s all right, Annie,’ assured Mr McLaughlin. ‘Henry, go and get a shovel from the garden. Will, get some sacks. Annie, take the girls out on the verandah to the drawing room. Good puss, Tipsy. Hold him tight.’

  Henry and Will raced to obey their father, taking the exit through the French doors onto the verandah, with Annie, Nell, Charlotte and Sophie following behind.

  ‘Those snakes are so dangerous,’ Annie told the girls as they hurried along the verandah. ‘One strike and you die a slow, painful death. We have lost two horses and one of our dogs to snakebite. It is horrible to see. Oh, I do hope Edward is careful. Fancy Tipsy bringing it right into the house like that!’

  The excitement was soon over, with the snake dispatched with the shovel and carried off in a sack. Breakfast was almost cold by the time everyone gathered back in the dining room. Tipsy was given a big bowl of milk as a reward. Sophie patted Tipsy as she lapped her milk.

  During breakfast, the McLaughlins discussed Nell and Charlotte’s future.

  ‘I know that your mama thought it was very important that both of you received a good education,’ Annie said. ‘The nearest school is Dalesford, which is too far to travel every day, so I think you should do lessons here each morning with Will.’

  Will pulled a comic face at Charlotte and Nell, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. His mother smiled at him and continued.

  ‘We thought you girls could help Will do some chores before breakfast, such as feeding the animals, then have lessons between breakfast and lunch,’ added Mr McLaughlin.

  ‘I know you probably did not do chores at home in Scotland,’ apologised Annie. ‘But we do not have many servants at Rosedale, so everyone helps.’

  ‘I do not mind,’ replied Nell quietly. ‘I like feeding the animals.’

  Annie smiled at Nell. ‘After lunch you can help us in the kitchen,’ she went on. ‘Mrs Gregory and I usually spend the afternoon preparing meals, and making preserves and soap. It is important you learn how to cook and keep house. Then in the late afternoon, you can ride or walk. I believe your mama wrote that you like to ride?’

  Charlotte and Nell nodded.

  ‘Excellent,’ replied Mr McLaughlin. ‘We always have plenty of horses at Rosedale, and we have two that are used to side-saddle, from when Annie used to ride.’

  Charlotte felt confused and lost. It was all so different here. The McLaughlins were kind and thoughtful, but she was not sure she wanted to slip into a completely new life.

  ‘Thank you, Mr McLaughlin,’ said Charlotte. ‘But do you know how long our uncle plans for us to stay here? When do you think we might be going back to Dungorm?’

  Annie and Edward McLaughlin glanced at each other with worried faces. Sophie stiffened, feeling Charlotte’s tension.

  ‘My dear,’ started Annie, ‘your uncle wrote to us and said that he and his wife were unable to look after you. Your aunt wished to send you to boarding school in England, however your uncle thought your mama would not have wished that.

  ‘He asked us to look after you until you are grown up and able to make your own way in the world.’

  ‘We must stay here until we are grown up?’ repeated Charlotte in consternation. ‘Until we can make our own way in the world?’

  ‘Your uncle thought you would be happier with Annie as she was your mother’s best friend,’ added Mr McLaughlin.

  Charlotte felt the familiar wave of anger, grief and frustration rising up.

  ‘No, no,’ argued Charlotte, tears choking her voice. ‘My uncle cares nothing for our happiness. He wants to steal Dungorm from us. He is going to shut it up and use it as a hunting lodge. He burnt Papa’s will. I saw him do it. There must be something we can do to stop him.’

  Nell buried her face in her napkin. Sophie patted her on the shoulder, trying to comfort her.

  ‘That is wicked,’ exclaimed Will. ‘Can he do that?’

  Annie and Edward McLaughlin frowned at each other, Annie biting her lip.

  ‘We don’t know the true circumstances, Will,’ warned Mr McLaughlin. ‘It’s obviously a complicated legal situation. Annie, perhaps we should consult with a lawyer to see if we can help the girls?’

  ‘It is not a complicated legal situation,’ insisted Charlotte. ‘Dungorm is our home.’

  Charlotte stared down at the tablecloth, her body trembling and her mind churning.

  ‘Come on, Charlotte and Nell,’ suggested Annie, rising from the table. ‘You are naturally upset about everything. Why don’t we go out to the kitchen? Mrs Gregory is making scones this morning so could do with some help.’

  In the kitchen, Mrs Gregory was cleaning up from cooking breakfast, but was happy to show the girls how to bake scones.

  ‘Mix the milk into the flour, Miss Nell,’ said Mrs Gregory. ‘Just a bit more.’

  Sophie remembered baking scones with Nonnie. They always ate them hot with strawberry jam and whipped cream. The memory made her mouth water.

  ‘Lightly knead the pastry now, Miss Charlotte,’ warned Mrs Gregory. ‘You’ll be thumpin’ all the life out of it at tha’ rate and the scones will never rise. We’ll be havin’ rock cakes for tea if tha’ happens.’

  The weeks passed quickly as they became familiar with Rosedale and all the new people in their life.

  October was a difficult month, when both Charlotte and Nell were cast into a deep well of depression. October was the month when Alexander had drowned with the wreck of the Eliza Mackenzie and then Eliza herself had died just a couple of weeks later, with the premature birth of her son.

  The weather veered between winter and summer, from overcast, cold days when everyone huddled around the fire and the wind howled around the chimney pots, to warm, sunny days when it was hotter than Scotland in midsummer.

  A few days after the anniversary of Eliza’s death, Annie called the girls into the sitting room. On the floor was a large parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string.

  ‘Open it,’ cried Annie, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. ‘It is for you.’

  Charlotte felt a thrill of anticipation. Together, Nell and Charlotte cut the string and tore open the parcel. Sophie came close and could not resist helping to tear the paper open.

  Inside were several coils of coloured ribbon, and bolts of blue and green material.

  ‘Look, girls,’ announced Annie. ‘Are they not pretty? We will make you some gorgeous new dresses to wear. I thought the blue for Nell and the green for Charlotte. What do you think?’

  Annie held the blue bolt up against Nell.

  ‘Perfect. It is time we added some coloured ribbon to all your white dresses now. You cannot keep mourning your mama and papa and baby brother forever.’

  Charlotte felt the familiar stab of grief as she was reminded of what she had lost, mixed with a sense of warmth, in that Annie had been so kind to them.

  ‘Thank you, Annie,’ replied Charlotte with a wan smile, stroking the green
fabric. ‘The material is so pretty, and you are right, it will be a nice change to wear some colour.’

  ‘I love this blue, thank you, Annie,’ added Nell, draping the material over her shoulders like a cape.

  ‘Good,’ said Annie. ‘We will start cutting out the dresses today. It is a long time since I made any dresses for little girls.’

  So, Annie fetched her scissors and began to cut out pretty new dresses from the material, while Nell and Charlotte worked beside her, trimming their bonnets with green ribbon.

  An hour later, Will came to collect Nell and Charlotte to take them riding.

  ‘Charlotte and Nell,’ called Will from the door. ‘Pot and I are riding out to deliver the week’s supplies to the shepherds. Would you like to come?’

  Charlotte was sure Annie had suggested it, to help stop them from moping.

  ‘Thank you, we would love to come,’ replied Charlotte. ‘That is, if it is all right with you, Annie?’

  ‘Of course,’ Annie assured them. ‘I can finish cutting out the material myself, then you can both help me sew them this evening.’

  One afternoon Will and Pot suggested that they should ride upriver, to the spring that fed Rosedale Creek. They were excused from chores for the afternoon, so had packed some picnic supplies for lunch in the saddlebags, with their tin mugs and pannikins so they could drink from the creek and boil a quart pot for tea.

  It was a gorgeous ride. The valley became narrower as they rode along beside the creek, with the hills rising steeply on either side. Tall gum trees grew along the creek banks and in the gullies. A kangaroo was startled by their presence and stared at them, before bounding away into the ti-tree scrub.

  ‘Look up here,’ instructed Will, pointing up into a tall eucalypt. ‘It’s a family of native bears. I think this must be Mala’s family.’

  It took a moment for the girls to see them. In the tallest branches were two grey, furry balls, apparently asleep. Lower down was another native bear, but this one was awake, staring at them with sleepy, glassy eyes.