Half an hour of to and fro in the cluttered bedroom, with Hannah under one arm, one of the girls under the other, forcing the groggy Magenta to stagger back and forth, stopping only to force water between her lips, finally brought her pulse, pupils and skin temperature back to normal. Easing the girl into a chair, with orders to the others to keep her awake and talking, Hannah collected her bag and asked to be taken to the owner of the house.
As it was, Alice was out in the hall, having been instructed to bring Miss Conroy to a private parlor when she was finished with Magenta. When they reached the foot of the stairs, Hannah was taken past an archway that opened upon a large, sumptuously furnished parlor where she saw men in frock coats or evening tails, well-dressed and prosperous looking, socializing with an extraordinary collection of women. She tried not to stare. Although most were young attractive ladies in gowns (albeit with immodestly low décolletages and hems so high as to expose stockings) Hannah saw one very small woman, a midget of perfect proportions, dressed as a little drummer boy sitting on a gentleman's lap, while in a corner among potted palms, a seated gentleman sipped champagne in the company of a pair of Polynesian twins dressed only in grass skirts and flower garlands over their bare bosoms.
The men smoked cigars, pipes and cigarettes, and the air was filled with the pungent scent of cannabis, familiar to Hannah because her father frequently prescribed hemp tobacco for nervous disorders. A long table was set with platters of appetizing food, and a barefoot girl dressed in a Japanese kimono moved about with a tray of champagne-filled glasses.
But the biggest surprise came when she was taken into a smaller parlor, with Alice quickly retreating, closing the door behind herself.
"G'day," said Hannah's hostess. "I'm Lulu Forchette."
The owner of the house was the largest woman Hannah had ever seen. Robed in dazzling blue silk, her wrists, fingers and fat neck adorned with jewelry that blinded, and egret feathers rising from her flaming red hair, Miss Lulu Forchette reclined on a red velvet chaise with a glass of champagne in one hand, a cigarette in a long holder in the other.
"Alice reported that you revived Magenta. You brought her around and saved her life. Have a seat, dearie, I want to know all about you and this miracle you performed!" Lulu Forchette's voice, like the rest of her, was larger than life.
Hannah took a seat on a brocaded chair. In contrast to the main parlor that was like something out of a fantasy, this was a prosaic scene—the walls covered in flocked wallpaper, with watercolors of landscapes hung for display. Plants in pots, polished lamps, shiny knick knacks, books, antimacassars on the sofa and upholstered chairs. There was even an ottoman with silver elephants stamped into blue leather. Actually a lovely parlor, with some expensive, tasteful appointments—a red and gold Chinese vase on the mantelpiece between a pair of wide-eyed Staffordshire dogs.
"Pardon me if I don't get up," Lulu said. "I've got a bad ankle."
"Would you like me to look at it?"
Lulu waved a chubby hand. "Alice told me you revived Magenta with strong smelling salts. How is it you did that? Nothing we tried worked."
Hannah brought the vial out of her bag and handed it to Lulu, who took one whiff and jerked her head back "Crikey! It's powerful. We could use this. My girls sometimes faint. It's the tight corseting. Men can't resist tiny waists."
She reached out to a plate of sugared almonds, popped one into her mouth and munched thoughtfully. "So how is it that I sent Alice for a doctor and she came back with you? And who are you exactly?"
Hannah explained the circumstances outside Dr. Young's office, and then gave Miss Forchette a bit of her own background.
Lulu chuckled. "So you're a midwife and fresh off the boat. I expect you were surprised when you got to my place. Alice wouldn't have told you the kind of house this is. At least you didn't demand that my coachman to take you right back to town. I'll hand you that. But you disapprove, I'm sure." She held up a hand, even though Hannah had said nothing. "It's the way of life in the colonies. You find a need and you fill it. Like you," Lulu Forchette said, narrowing her eyes as she looked Hannah up and down. "Saying you're a midwife but dispensing medicine, too. We do what we can to survive. Me, I was transported for stealing an apron. I completed my seven years and got my pardon. Trouble was, I couldn't sew, I didn't know how to cook, and laundresses were a penny a dozen. I had no skills, no occupation, like so many girls. Before I knew it, I was on the street, begging. The first man to offer me money for a quick service was a banker, of all things. We went into an alley and I came out with sixpence. He liked me and I stayed with him for a while. He introduced me to his rich friends, and making a long story short, here I am. Thanks for what you did for Magenta. I've told that girl time and again to stay away from the belladonna, but she won't listen."
"Perhaps," Hannah ventured to say, "she is unhappy here."
"Unhappy?" Lulu released a short laugh that sounded like a cough. "Why would she be unhappy? Magenta's my daughter, this is her home."
"Your daughter—"
"The good Lord blessed me with four girls, all of them good looking. And I'm proud to say they're more in demand by my customers than any of the other girls." Lulu laughed again, her great bosom heaving, with lights shooting off her necklaces and earrings. "Don't look so shocked, dearie. We're a happy family here. We like what we do, we wear pretty clothes, and we've got no husbands to get drunk and beat us up. Most of all, we don't go hungry in this house. That's the worst of it," Lulu said, her face going dark, her look going inward. "The hunger. A starvation so bad that you fight dogs for scraps in the street. And then a man comes along and offers you a sixpence for a few minutes of your time, and all you can think of is the meat pies the sixpence will buy. After a while, you'll do anything. Don't matter what a bloke asks for, as long as you've got a meal and a roof over your head at the end of it."
She brought herself back. "And ain't that what marriage is all about, anyway?"
"I've never thought about it," Hannah said truthfully.
"And as for being happy, well, all my girls are happy here. They are free to leave any time they want, but they don't." Lulu reached for another sugared almond, then paused and pressed her hand to her jaw. "Can you do something for a toothache?"
"Oil of cloves will help."
"What about a red, itchy rash?"
"I've found that a salve made of lamb fat and camphor will clear up most rashes. You can obtain both at the chemist in town."
Lulu's small, keen eyes studied Hannah, from her lavender bonnet to her dusty shoes. "So you know a lot about medicine and healing, things like that? You can stitch up cuts and such?"
"Yes."
Lulu rubbed her jaw again in thought. "Doc Young was the only physician who would come out and see my girls. The rest are too snobbish to cross my doorstep. Alice tells me he's gone to Sydney to retire. What would you say to entering into an agreement with me, Miss Conroy? Like, when a need arises, can I send for you? I'll pay you well for your trouble. We get the occasional illness, but mostly it's accidents. You'd be surprised."
Hannah thought for a moment. If her father didn't object to visiting a house of hospitality on the road out of Bayfield, then his daughter shouldn't either. "If I can be of help. I am staying at Mrs. Throckmorton's boarding house on Gray Street."
Lulu held up Dr. Applewhite's little vial. "And where can I get these smelling salts?"
"Please keep that. I can make up more."
"You're giving this to me? Free of charge? Let me tell you something, dearie." Lulu shifted her bulk and farted delicately. "Don't give away what you can sell. It's the rule in this house, and it's what's made me rich. These smelling salts are strong medicine. I doubt there's anything like this in the colony. I know Mr. Krüger doesn't carry anything this powerful. My advice, bottle it and sell it, and you'll soon be rich, too."
Lulu gestured toward the closed door and the music beyond. "Those men out there in the expensive clothes, drinking fancy champagne and
paying top price for my girls, they come to this shore with dirt behind their ears. Nobodies back home, they buy five hundred acres and run sheep or cattle and grow so rich their pants don't fit. It's what everyone comes to Australia for. You'd be a fool not to join the parade."
Hannah asked about Alice's facial disfigurement. "The poor child," Lulu said. "When she was twelve, a brush fire went through her farm. It was night. Her entire family perished, but Alice was saved by a ranch hand. She was caught under a fallen beam and her rescuer tugged hard, not knowing her hair was pinned down. It pulled away some of her scalp and ear. The bloke rushed her to a neighbor who took care of her and nursed her back to health. They even offered to let her stay with them in exchange for work. But they discovered that Alice had gotten a sudden fear of fire. She couldn't light a lamp or go near a stove or a fireplace without screaming. As they were barely subsisting themselves, they couldn't keep a girl who couldn't earn her food. She was taken into town where a charity for orphans tried to place her in domestic work, but Alice's fear of fire kept getting her sacked. Finally, she was old enough for the authorities to stop worrying about her and she found herself on the street. That's where I found her, poor raggedy thing, down by the docks begging.
"That's what I do, share my good fortune with those in need. Every now and then I go into town in my carriage and search the streets for girls in desperate situations. I rescue them, bring them home, fatten them up and they join my family." The great, pale bosom laden with necklaces rose and fell in a dramatic sigh. "That's me, softy at heart. Most of the girls appreciate what I do, but some can be ingrates. It isn't always easy being charitable, you know. Will you stay for supper? My cooks put out the tastiest roast beef and Yorkshire pud."
"No thank you, I should get back to town."
Reaching for the bellpull near the chaise, Lulu gave it two impatient yanks and a young red-haired woman appeared, bearing a striking resemblance to Miss Forchette. "Rita, escort Miss Conroy back to the carriage. And give her a pound note for coming out tonight." To Hannah, Lulu said, "I'd get up and see you out myself, but the ankle is bad."
Hannah noticed the cane by the chaise: a handsome piece carved from mahogany with a curiously shaped gold handle. Not the sort of cane one purchased for temporary injuries. Hannah wondered if Lulu's weight prevented her from walking.
Rita led her through the house to the large kitchen, where the staff were busy at the stoves and ovens. As they neared the rear door of the house, with Rita going ahead out into the evening, they passed a deep linen cupboard and Hannah heard singing within. It was the familiar "Ballad of Barbara Allen," and the voice was so beautiful, it sent chills down Hannah's spine.
She looked in and saw Alice at the shelves, collecting folded pillow cases and sheets. Sensing that she was not alone, Alice turned abruptly, the song stopping in her throat.
"I have never heard such a beautiful voice," Hannah said.
"Thank you, miss," Alice said shyly, blushing so fiercely and covering the left side of her face with her hand that Hannah suspected Alice only sang when she thought there was no one around.
Hannah found Rita waiting for her outside in the sultry summer evening, with stars now winking in the black sky. "Just follow this path," Rita said with a charming smile. "The coach is waiting."
The air was perfumed with flowers and filled with the noisy songs of crickets and frogs. February, Hannah thought as she followed the path. Easter was around the corner, and it would be celebrated in autumn.
But even more remarkable than upside-down months was her visit to this incredible house. She thought of Lulu and Rita and Magenta, and the other girls within, the gentleman callers, and the lights in all the windows. Hannah could not even imagine what went on in those rooms. And what had Lulu meant by "accidents?"
Hannah's thoughts turned to Dr. Davenport and her first day at work tomorrow, and she was suddenly so excited and full of speculation that she did not see a strange, dark shape materialize on the garden path ahead. It was the growling that caught her attention.
Hannah stopped and stared. The dog emerged from the shadows and Hannah saw by the moonlight that it was orange-coated with a long snout and sharp upright ears that gave it a fox-like appearance. Its fur was filthy and ribs were clearly delineated. The creature was starving.
Hannah froze as the snarling beast bared its fangs, hackles rising.
Her mouth ran dry as she forced her feet to move back one small step. As she did so, the dog took a wary step toward her. Hannah went back another, and the dog advanced another. Hannah continued to retreat, hoping she would reach the light and noise of the kitchen, which might send the dog away, but with her last step she felt a tree at her back. She could go no farther, and the dog continued to advance.
Hannah was wondering if calling for help would drive the dog off, or make it attack, when she suddenly heard a low voice nearby. "Don't move. Stay perfectly still."
Hannah held her breath as a man stepped out of the darkness and moved in front of her, his back to her. He spoke to the dog in a calm voice. "It's all right, mate. We're not here to harm you. We're just passing through."
The night's cacophony seemed to grow louder as the stranger stared down the snarling dog, speaking calmly to it. Hannah had no idea who the stranger was. He had come from the direction of the road, and he wasn't dressed like the gentlemen in Lulu's house. He seemed, in fact, to be wearing work clothes. His head was covered in a wide brimmed slouch hat, and he smelled of tobacco.
"I'm sorry we've taken your territory," he said calmly to the dog, "but that's just the way of things now. Let's part friends, all right?"
The moment stretched and became surreal as floral fragrance filled Hannah's head, and she could hear music and laughter from the house, while a strange man stood between herself and a savage dog.
And then the growling stopped, the hackles lowered and after a moment the dog turned and slunk away into the night.
The stranger stepped back and turned to face Hannah. "Are you all right?"
She placed her hand on her chest as she released a shaky sigh. "My heart is racing! Whatever it was you did, thank you."
He glanced back through the darkness and said, "They don't understand that this isn't their territory anymore. They come for what they can find in the rubbish, now that their hunting ground is gone."
"What kind of a dog was that?"
"That's what the Aborigines call a dingo. You can't tame them and they're often dangerous. Where are my manners? Jamie O'Brien, at your service," the stranger said with a smile as he lifted his hat.
Hannah saw dark blond hair, and in the shadow of the wide brim of the hat as he reseated it, eyes that squinted over craggy cheeks and rugged jaw. Mr. O'Brien's skin was weathered like a sailor's—his squint reminded her of Captain Llewellyn—and she wondered if the hair were naturally blond or sun-bleached. He stood a head taller than her, but he was neither husky nor broad-shouldered, rather he was lean, and as he wasn't wearing a jacket—over his white shirt he wore a black leather waistcoat with silver buttons—she saw a tight, compact figure. His sleeves were rolled up, and Hannah saw well muscled forearms. She noticed something attached to his belt, a leather sheath with a knife handle sticking out. A man used to fending for himself.
Hannah sensed strength in the him, despite his slender build, and guessed that he was not a town man but one of those rugged types who come in occasionally from the farms and ranches and even the Outback. A drover, perhaps. His hands, she thought, would be calloused.
She realized he was staring at her in an odd way. He had told her his name, and now he was studying her as if he was expecting a reaction. Was she supposed to know who he was? Was he famous in some way?
And then she realized he was waiting for the courtesy to be returned. "Hannah Conroy," she said, aware that he stood close, giving her no room to move away from the tree. His eyes, the pale blue of a man who spends all his time outdoors, held hers, and she saw creases of amusement at t
he corners. Yet she did not feel he was mocking her. When she detected the scent of fresh clean soap and shaving cream, and because he was on the path leading to Lulu's house, she guessed why he was here.
"What's a fine lady like yourself doing at a place like this?" he asked, glancing past her toward the house.
She explained that she was a midwife, called to help one of the girls.
He glanced down at the carpetbag in her hand. "A midwife is it?" he said softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. "For someone in Lulu's house?"
"One of the ladies fainted."
"Ah." He fell silent then, and Hannah saw changes in his pale-blue eyes, like ocean tides. "Ah," he said again as if suddenly understanding something new, and trying to find a way to understand and accept it. He couldn't seem to stop staring at her.
"Thank you again for sending the dog away," she said, and looked right and left, to see how she could gracefully sidestep him. His frank stare, that had begun in amusement and curiosity, had turned grave, and Hannah wondered for an instant if he was dangerous.
The colony of Adelaide was the gateway to the country's vast interior, with opportunists flocking from all over the world to come in search of opals, gold, diamonds, even the lost treasure of King Solomon. There had been no strikes of gold or opals as yet, but rumors were a powerful draw. Already copper and silver had been discovered, promising that more riches lay just on the other side of Adelaide. And so this frontier town of eight thousand souls that was the staging platform for explorers, visionaries and gold seekers, was also teeming with men and women looking for get-rich-quick schemes—confidence artists, swindlers, grifters, gamblers and flimflam men, along with the usual petty thieves, pickpockets and purse snatchers.
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