“I will leave you in peace.” Henry kissed the top of her head then strolled to the door. He paused and turned back. “I will ask your mother to pack some food for the journey. I’ve ordered a carriage.” He pulled out his watch, looked at it then slipped it back in his pocket. “We will leave here, the three of us, at midday precisely.” He stepped out the door and closed it softly behind him.
Catherine looked down at the baby tugging on her breast and two big tears rolled down her cheeks. The time she’d spent in her family’s care was over.
Henry accepted the teacup perched on the delicate saucer from his mother-in-law. “Thank you, Florence.”
She gave him a small nod, her own cup remaining on the intricate table that held the tea tray. They were seated in the front room that faced the sea and Henry could hear the distant sound of the waves through the partly open arched windows.
“I hope you don’t mind me speaking out, Henry, but I must on my daughter’s behalf.”
He looked over the rim of his cup at her powdered face and waited.
“This is a delicate matter.” Florence perched awkwardly on the edge of her seat. “Bringing a child into the world is not always easy for a woman. Catherine was in pain for several days.”
Henry returned the cup to the saucer. “She had the baby here so she could be attended by a physician.”
“And she was. Catherine had the best of care but some women experience more complications. First babies can be especially difficult.”
“What are you saying, Florence?” The woman was most perplexing. Perhaps the birthing of his son had caused some internal problem for his wife. “Is Catherine … unwell … or hurt in some way?”
“No, no.” Florence’s cheeks turned pink and her chin lifted a little higher. “It is taking her some time to recover, that is all. And to adjust to the challenges of being a mother.”
“I will be able to assist her with that.”
“But surely you are at work all day providing for your family.”
“I have employed a housekeeper.” Henry gave a smug smile as Florence sat back. “Our new home is not as grand as yours of course but I think you will find it most suitable for people of our standing in the community.” He puffed out his chest. “My shop is patronised by those people who are held in high regard in Hawker.”
“There don’t seem to be many women in Hawker who are … appropriate companions. Women need other women to talk to so that they don’t burden their husbands with day-to-day trivialities.”
Henry put a finger inside his collar and adjusted it more comfortably on his neck. “On the contrary, we have several acquaintances who are looking forward to Catherine’s return.” He agreed with Florence to some degree but wouldn’t admit it. Mrs Taylor had asked after his wife just prior to his departure and Johanna Prosser had sent a gift of a small wooden rattle. They might be older than Catherine but were fitting friends given Henry’s position and future standing in the community.
“Hawker is so far away.”
“You must come and visit us. There is a regular train service now.” Henry put his cup and saucer back on the table and stood. He would have no more delaying tactics. The sooner he got his wife and son home the better. “Thank you for the tea, Florence. Would you have your cook prepare some food for us to take on our journey? I am going down to inspect the new lighthouse at the end of the jetty. I expect my wife and son to be ready to depart as soon as I return.”
Florence’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. She glared at him a moment then gave a slight inclination of her head. “As you wish.”
“I’ll see myself out.”
Henry’s footsteps rang on the tiled floor of the entrance hall. He retrieved his hat and scarf from the intricately carved hall-stand and eyed himself in its mirror. He was pleased with what he saw. There was still a long way to go to match his father-in-law’s wealth but he would do it. One day perhaps they would take regular summer holidays in a house like this of their own near the beach but for now Catherine’s place was at his side. There would be no more meddling from Florence. Henry spun on his heel, swept his hair back from his forehead and pushed his new hat onto his crown, then he stepped out into the spring day.
Twenty
Joseph swung his legs over the side of his bed and groaned. Light poured in around the edges of Clara’s heavy blue curtains. He put his head in his hands and pressed his fingers to his throbbing temples, glaring through one eye at the empty flask lying on the floor at his feet. He should have camped one more night to break his journey but last night the moon was bright and he was close enough to know each rut in the track and let them guide his horse and cart home.
Binda had heard him return and had come to help with the horse and cart but they’d said little to each other. It was late, Joseph was tired and had no news worthy of sharing. He crept into his bed but sleep had eluded him. That’s when he’d thought of the flask. A nip would help him, but one mouthful wasn’t enough and he must have eventually drained the rest of the contents judging by the way his head felt.
There was noise beyond his door, chatting and laughter. He strained to listen. It was William who was laughing, a sound Joseph hadn’t heard since … well, it seemed a long time since there’d been any laughter in this house. Without the little girls here it was only Robert who had quickly adapted to the loss of his mother and chortled often at whatever took his fancy.
Joseph had had no word from his parents since Esther and Violet had gone to stay with them over six weeks ago. He had a sudden desire to see his little girls but quickly pushed it away. The shearers would be here in a week and there was much to do. In the past his father’s overseer, Timothy, had come to help at Smith’s Ridge for shearing and then Joseph had always headed to Wildu Creek to help there. No doubt that would still be the plan but without Clara to cook and look after the children he wasn’t sure how it would all work.
Once more William’s laughter reached him. Joseph stood, dragged his fingers through his hair and pulled on his clothes. He opened the door and paused at the sight before him. Their big living room was empty of people but now he took in what his eyes hadn’t seen in the semi-dark last night.
Sunshine streamed in the dust-free windows showing the floor swept neat as a pin and bare of clothing, shoes and food scraps. The big long table was clear of everything except a jar of the wildflowers that sprouted from the plains and the hill country at this time of year. The fireplace was clean and set ready to be lit. Once more the sound of laughter drew Joseph’s attention. He followed it to the kitchen. William stood at the table. Opposite him was Mary, beside her Robert perched on a chair and at the head of the table was the other native woman, Millie. Joseph had forgotten she’d arrived as he’d left for Hawker. All of them were focused on the table as puffs of white hovered in the air between them.
“What’s this?”
“Father!” William spun, his eyes bright and his hands covered in flour.
Robert gurgled something that sounded a lot like ‘papa’.
“We’re making pies, Father.” William beckoned him over. “Come and see.”
Joseph moved closer and put an arm around Robert who was wavering precariously on the chair. He looked from Mary, whose lips were turned up in a shy smile, to Millie, whose white teeth shone from her laughing mouth.
“Welcome home, Joseph,” she said.
“See, Father.” William tugged on his arm. “Millie had dough left over so we are each making our own little pie.”
Joseph looked down at the table where several oddly shaped creations sat on a baking tray.
“Mine is an elephant shape.” William pointed proudly to a round blob with several pieces sticking out of it. “Mary’s helping Robert make a kangaroo. It’s very good isn’t it?”
Joseph looked at the shape in front of Mary which did indeed closely resemble a kangaroo.
“My brother said to tell you he’s gone to check the fence at the top of Prosser’s Run.” M
illie glanced at him. “I hope it was all right to make use of the supplies you brought back?”
Joseph took in the happy group. Clara was always so careful with every last jot of provisions but if this small wastage was what it took to bring some light into his children’s lives then he was not going to complain.
“Of course.” Joseph stuck a finger in a small pool of flour. “As long as we have enough to feed shearers in a week’s time.” He put a dab of flour on William’s nose and then Robert’s.
William rubbed at his nose and Robert sneezed.
“Time to put these pies in the oven and clean up now.” Millie turned away to test the oven. A delicious smell wafted from whatever was inside before she closed the door again and reached for another piece of wood.
“Are you responsible for the cleanliness of my house?” Joseph put a hand to his stomach as it rumbled. He’d hardly eaten since he left Hawker two days ago.
“Mary helped me.” Millie grinned. “I have some egg-and-bacon pie ready to eat. Would you like some?”
Joseph looked in astonishment at the pie she indicated on the bench. He could see the chunks of bacon and whole eggs inside the already-cut pastry.
“We had some,” William said. “Millie cooks like Mother … it was very nice.” William shuffled his feet.
Joseph’s heart ached for his son. “Sounds like I had better try some then.”
“You go and sit at the table.” Millie flapped her hands at him. “I will bring it to you.”
Mary took Robert off to clean him up and William followed Joseph to the front room.
Joseph sat in his usual seat, grateful that the pounding in his head had eased. William took a seat on the long stool beside him.
“Has everything been all right while I have been away?”
“Yes,” William said. “Uncle Binda stayed in the hut with Millie the first night. I went with him to check the close waterholes the next day. We’ve only made short trips so we are not far from home, in case …”
He stopped talking as soon as Millie appeared with the food. She placed a generous serving of pie in front of Joseph.
“Thank you, Millie,” he said and was rewarded by her brilliant smile.
William waited until she was gone before he continued speaking
“We’ve cleaned out the shearing shed and checked the yards. Today Uncle Binda left early. He wanted to inspect the fences between us and Prosser’s Run ready to move sheep closer to the home paddock.”
“We’ll have to start that tomorrow.” Joseph took a mouthful of pie. William was right, it was every bit as delicious as Clara’s. Jundala always had trouble with the pastry and the consistency of the pie but Millie had it just right. “Very good pie,” he murmured once he’d swallowed two mouthfuls.
“Jundala and Joe haven’t come back yet. Uncle Binda thinks they might stay away for a while.” William rested his hands together on the table. “Millie has been very busy in the house. I don’t think Uncle Binda is very pleased with her. I’ve heard them arguing a few times.”
“What about?”
William shrugged his shoulders. “They spoke in their language. It was too fast for me to understand.”
Joseph paused before pushing the next forkful into his mouth and pondered on that while he ate. Binda had intimated there was something he wanted to tell Joseph before he’d left for Hawker. No doubt his friend would share with him what was going on in good time.
William leaned closer. “Millie is different.”
Joseph eyed his son. He wanted to smile at the boy’s earnest expression but he sensed that would be the wrong thing to do.
“In what way?”
“She’s native but she wears dresses.”
“Jundala and Mary wear dresses.”
“Jundala only does when she’s working in the house and Mary’s are always …” William paused. “She never looks right in them.”
Joseph thought about that. Millie was of medium height, almost as tall as her brother. The dress she wore fitted her perfectly and she moved around the house with ease in it. “I think that’s because Mary’s don’t fit her properly.” Joseph also thought that both Jundala and Mary were more comfortable in their traditional clothing which didn’t entail very much at all, especially in the warmer months.
“She speaks good English and she can read and write. She’s been reading to Robert and me each night you’ve been gone. Just like Mother used …”
Joseph reached out a hand and was shamed when he saw William flinch. What had he become that his son was frightened of him? “It’s all right son.” He placed a hand on William’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to avoid mentioning your mother.”
William stared down at the floor.
Joseph felt as if the food he’d swallowed had turned to rock in his throat. “She will always be in your heart. In all of our hearts.”
“Robert doesn’t miss her.” William looked up, his eyes darkened. “He thinks Mary is his mother.”
A stab of pain knifed through Joseph. “I’m sorry, William. There is nothing I can do about that.”
“He should have gone to Grandma’s with the girls.”
“Robert is a baby. It would be too much for Grandma to have him as well.”
“Mary’s not his mother.” William banged his hands on the table. “She’s … she’s … black and Robert is white.” He turned worried eyes to his father. “Do you think he will end up brindle like Mr Prosser said?”
Joseph might have laughed had he not felt anger surge through him once more. He removed his hand from William’s shoulder, closed his eyes and gripped his head with one hand. Damn Ellis Prosser and his evil tongue. Why couldn’t people see beyond the colour of another’s skin before they judged?
“I’m sorry, Father.”
Joseph’s eyes flew open. Once more William had fear on his face.
“It’s not your fault, William, and you have nothing to be sorry for. Men like Ellis Prosser don’t deserve our attention.”
“He’s our neighbour.”
“He might be but he’s not a good one. Your Uncle Binda is a much better man than Mr Prosser will ever be. He doesn’t judge a person by the way they look and neither should we.”
William studied his hands for a moment. “It’s not so much what she looks like I suppose,” he said. “She bosses me and I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”
Joseph raised his eyebrows.
“And.” William leaned closer and lowered his voice. “She often smells. We have to have a bath every week and change our clothes but Mary wears the same dress without washing it for a long time.”
Joseph felt the rage ebb away. His son was growing up early. Circumstances had made him part man already and Joseph could understand not wanting to be told what to do by Mary who was little more than a child herself. As to the clothes, the same happened with Binda and Jundala. Clara had always made sure they had clothes to wear but they often wore the same apparel without washing it for long periods of time. Joseph had a fair idea it was the clothes that smelled rather than his friends.
“You’ve been raised differently, William. Mary’s not like you nor you like her yet we try to get along. Her father is my closest friend.”
“I thought Uncle Timothy was your friend.”
“Yes, he is also a good friend but he works for Grandpa and I don’t see him as often.”
“His skin is the same as ours.”
Joseph sighed and shook his head. “William, you are too much bothered by the colour of a person’s skin rather than what’s inside.”
They both turned at the sound of raised voices from the kitchen then Binda came into the room.
“I am glad you are back, my friend.” He crossed the room and stood beside Joseph. “Prosser has been at it again. Some fence is knocked down.”
Joseph thumped the table making the fork clatter on the plate. “Damn the man, why can’t he leave us in peace?”
; “It’s in a difficult place to see. A lot of thick bush around. There are tufts of wool on the wire and the hoof prints have been disturbed. Maybe the sheep knocked the fence down, maybe kangaroo, maybe a man.” Binda shrugged his shoulders. “It is difficult to tell.”
“But what do you feel in here?” Joseph stood and put a hand to his own chest.
“It looks deliberate to me. I found horse prints further down the fence line. They were on our side of the fence and not our horses.”
“We must bring in our stock. We’ve already delayed shearing by a month.”
“There are only the two of us.”
“And me.”
Joseph felt a swell of pride as his son leapt to his feet. He gave a nod. “Timothy will be here any day. That will make four of us.”
Binda, who was usually the one full of confidence, shook his head. “Still not enough.”
“Mary and I can help.”
They turned as Millie came into the room, her hands on Mary’s shoulders.
Binda’s eyes bulged so much Joseph was fearful they would pop out.
“I can ride.”
Binda made a strange strangled sound.
“Thank you for the offer, Millie.” Joseph smiled at the young woman whose eyes were alight. “If it’s all right with you, I will put you in charge of food. It’s a big job but it appears you are most capable.”
“Thank you, Joseph. I would like to help in whatever way I can.”
She smiled sweetly at him then at Binda. Joseph had never seen his friend so agitated.
“Binda and I should ride out. Check the lay of the land and plan our next moves.” He guided his friend through the kitchen, past the outside verandahs and along the path out of the yard. They came to a stop under a straggly group of eucalypt trees near the horse yard.
“Now, Binda.” Joseph turned to face his friend. “Perhaps you’d better tell me the story of your sister.”
Binda glared back at him. It was rare to see his body stiff with anger.
“I only brought her here because my father was ready to kill her.”
Joseph frowned. “Literally?”
Dust on the Horizon Page 19