Bridie's Fire
Page 21
The band of volunteer musicians struck up the tune that signalled the Princess’ entry and Bridie watched from her chair, in the shadow of the curtain, as Tom minced on stage and curtseyed to Freddy Wobbins, who was playing the role of the King. Tom’s long limbs poked out at all angles against the fabric of his gown. When he turned to move downstage for his big opening speech, he tripped on his skirts and sprawled across the rough stage, flat on his face. Tom looked straight at Bridie, his eyes wide with distress. The house was in uproar as he got up, clutching at the folds of his dress.
Bridie knew Tom would persist. He would never give up. He would recite every one of his lines, sing every song, no matter how badly, but the audience wasn’t going to be kind. The play was simply a disaster. Beside her, Eddie Bones stood with his head in his hands. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shimmer of movement, a swish of white satin, and suddenly Amaranta was beside them in the gown that Bridie had worked so hard to perfect. The feather-white folds of fabric floated on the evening air and the myriad seed pearls gleamed like dewdrops.
‘Bridie, quickly, are all the hooks fastened?’ she said, standing close so Bridie could adjust the gown for her.
The next instant, she was on stage, berating Tom as an impostor, making up lines which not only made sense of the story but completely stilled the audience. They were in awe of her from the moment she stepped onto the stage. When she turned with arms outstretched to the audience and burst into song, Bridie heard a gasp of appreciation sweep through the crowd. From that moment, everything fell into place. Even though Bridie was exhausted, the sheer excitement of watching the play unfold kept her lucid enough to make all the last-minute alterations the costumes needed.
When the curtain was drawn on the final scene, the crowds roared and showered Amaranta with small nuggets in appreciation. As she stepped out to accept their applause, Bridie shouted and stamped her feet with joy. It made her side ache but the pain meant nothing compared to her happiness.
At the close of the show, the band struck up another piece and then the diggers all got up and danced with each other on the dirt floor. Amaranta danced with Eddie as if they’d never fought, and Bridie managed to dance a single tune with Tom before sheer exhaustion overtook her and Tom had to guide her from the dance floor. She was sitting in the orchestra pit, watching the dancers contentedly, when Amaranta came over and sat down beside her.
‘I knew you’d come back,’ said Bridie.
Amaranta laughed. ‘And here I was, worried I’d find you dead, girl! A rider overtook the dray on his way to Melbourne and he told me that you were on your deathbed. I was ashamed I’d left you in that state, ashamed that I’d let down everyone in the troupe. And my Eddie. He drives me mad with his schemes and his mad dreams, but you were right, Bridie. We’re making something special in this place that’s new and fine and worth fighting for.’
After the last digger had left and they’d extinguished all the candles, Bridie and Tom walked out into the cool night air. It was a relief to breathe deeply, to get away from the smell of greasepaint and smoke and burning fat. They walked slowly up the hill, over Golden Point, to where the black bush edged the fields. Tom flopped down on his back, looking up at the night sky and Bridie sat down beside him. She wrapped the blue velvet cloak close around her and drew up the hood so the black fur trim tickled her cheeks. Tom looked across at her and smiled.
‘It was magic, wasn’t it?’ he said. ‘The show, the crowd. The Star. It was probably the best show any of those diggers ever saw in their lives. All because we made it happen. And Amaranta came back, as I knew she would. I knew she wouldn’t let Eddie down, or me!’
Bridie laughed. ‘So you’re vying to be one of the great loves of her life, are you now? She’s a fiery spirit, that one. You be careful.’
He turned and grinned at her.
‘She’s a grand lady but she’s not as fiery as the girl I truly fancy. Nothing can put out the spark in my girl. Why, they can’t even shoot it out of her!’
Bridie could feel herself blushing in the darkness.
‘Between the two of us, Bridie, we’ll set the world on fire, like those little burning fires down there. You’ll make beautiful costumes and one day people will come from all over the world to see how fine they are. And I’ll be the grandest thespian in the Southern Hemisphere – the greatest actor under the Southern Cross; and the Star Theatre will be the most famous theatre in all the New World!’
Tom reached out and his fingertips brushed against Bridie’s and then their fingers entwined. Bridie looked up at the stars. The Southern Cross blazed bright above them and Bridie knew there was nowhere else in the wide world that she would rather be than under this sky, with this boy, and her whole life ahead of her.
Author’s Note
This is a work of fiction and Bridie O’Connor is an imaginary girl, but her experiences are based on fact. Between 1848 and 1850, over 4000 girls were shipped out to Australia as part of the ‘Earl Grey Orphan Scheme’. Earl Grey was Secretary of State for the Colonies and the girls were victims of the great Irish potato famine. The famine, or An Ghorta Mor, as it was known in Ireland, was a terrible event in Irish history that left more than a million Irish dead and drove almost two million people away from their homeland. I am not descended from one of the orphan girls, but more than 30 000 Australians are, and their influence has echoed down the generations.
The history of Ireland and its struggle to regain its independence from Britain is part of the history of Australia. Over 30 per cent of Australians have at least one Irish ancestor. Throughout the nineteenth century, the Irish made up 20–30 per cent of new arrivals. The impact they had on their new country, the stories and ideas they brought with them or put behind them when they left their homeland, influenced how Australia developed and helped create who we are now.
Famine orphans like Bridie lived through the heady days of the goldrush and they bore witness to huge changes in Australia’s history. In writing Bridie’s Fire, I tried to merge the experiences of a generation of Australian girls.
All the characters in Bridie’s Fire are based on a combination of personalities that I came across in my research. Although none of the main characters is a historical figure, their experiences parallel those of real men, women and children of their times. I borrowed the name of the Wizard Jacobus from a real actor who performed on the early Victorian goldfields. Amaranta El’Orado’s character was inspired by the actress Lola Montez. Studying the lives of these people was the most enriching part of writing Bridie’s story, and I hope I have presented an accurate and true picture of the lives of the people who lived through that tumultuous era.
Even though we may not be aware of it, the past is with us in every moment of our waking lives. We are part of a continuum between our ancestors and our descendants. In writing CHILDREN OF THE WIND, I hope to shed light on the powerful link between who we were and who we are in the process of becoming.