Dust on the Horizon

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Dust on the Horizon Page 27

by Tricia Stringer


  Harriet put the letter in her lap and sighed. She had only recently built up some savings again since Jack had cleaned her out.

  A movement at the door startled her.

  “What are you doing sitting out here in the dark?”

  Her heart filled with dread at the voice. She peered through the gloom at the smiling face of Jack Aldridge. It was if her earlier thoughts of him had conjured him up. His tall body was framed inside her open back door.

  “How did you get in?”

  “A very convenient open window.”

  Harriet’s hand went to her throat. She had forgotten to put the chock in the window to stop it opening further.

  Jack dug his hand in his pocket. Harriet was startled by the sudden flare of a match. He held it towards her.

  “I think it’s time to light the candle.”

  He reached down and lit the candle she kept on the table, flicked the match away and leaned back against the kitchen wall. Harriet watched his every move as if he were a snake about to strike.

  “That’s better. You have very clear eyes, Harriet. I like to be able to see them. I’ve become very good at telling when people are lying to me by studying their eyes.”

  Harriet’s gaze narrowed. She could hardly see his eyes. His face was in shadow while she knew hers would be illuminated by the candlelight.

  “What do you want, Mr Aldridge? I hope it’s not money because I’ve had little chance to build up any savings since you were here last.”

  He remained silent, watching her from the shadows. Suddenly he moved and she jumped.

  “Oh dear, you are excitable tonight.” He smirked. The shadows gave his face a gruesome twist. “I hope you haven’t had bad news.”

  Harriet looked down at the letter in her lap. Her heart beat faster. He had simply shifted from one foot to the other but she was so wound up it had alarmed her. She took a slow deep breath. She couldn’t let Jack find out about Henry. Now there was young Charles to think about as well. She slid the letter under her teacup.

  “A friend sending news. Nothing alarming. However your presence here is. I gave you a great deal of money for your silence. What have you done with it?”

  “All gone.” He laughed. It was a mirthless sound.

  “Have you tried finding work?”

  “Many times, Mrs Wiltshire, but it never lasts. My employers always seem to find issue with me. Something to do with the colour of my skin I think.”

  Harriet felt a pang of guilt. She would most certainly not employ or entertain as a customer anyone of native skin. Still there were plenty of people who did. It was not her problem if Jack Aldridge couldn’t get work.

  “You don’t look like a man without employment.” She had noted the fine cut of his jacket, the quality of his pants and boots, and the grooming of his beard.

  “With thanks to my benefactress.” He bowed slightly and she could see his face more clearly. He was mocking her. In spite of his dark skin there was no doubting he was Septimus’s son. He had the same strong lines of the narrow nose and the piercing eyes.

  She sat back in her chair and stared at his shadowy face. “We had a deal, Mr Aldridge. I paid you well. You were never to come back.”

  “Perhaps you can’t trust me. But then again maybe I can’t trust you.”

  Harriet’s brain scrambled. He’d come from the house. Had he found her money stash in the chair?

  “You have a very nice sitting room.”

  In spite of the warm night Harriet’s blood ran cold. Not her nest egg. He can’t have her nest egg.

  “Nice portraits on your mantel.”

  “Portraits?” Harriet could only think of her money.

  “A younger you. You’re still a very striking woman, Harriet. Then there’s a boy and another of the boy, now a man, on his wedding day perhaps?”

  Oh no, Henry. Harriet reached for the locket that was no longer around her neck, she glanced at the letter under the teacup. “I told you my husband died a long time ago.”

  “Yes you did but you neglected to mention you have a son who it appears is very much alive.”

  “The portraits are a friend’s son.”

  Jack was very still then he crossed the small space between them in an instant and leaned in. He smelled of cigars and liquor.

  “I’m not much of a reader, Harriet. The Aldridges didn’t think it important for me to learn but I can manage the basics.”

  He tugged the letter from under the cup and opened it out. Harriet knew it was the last page she had read that he would be seeing.

  Holding the letter close to the candle Jack peered at the paper. He began to read, his voice slow as he stumbled over the words. “I do hope this finds you in good health Mother, your loving son, Henry.” Jack turned cold eyes on her. “Shame on you, Harriet. I have a brother and you tried to keep him from me.”

  Dread spread through Harriet and a terrible realisation. She was never going to be rid of Jack Aldridge. No matter how much she paid him he would always come back for more and now he had extra bargaining power.

  Jack tossed the letter back on the table but it slid and the pages fell to the ground at her feet.

  “I will give you more money.” Harriet lifted her chin and focused her gaze on his. “But you are to leave my son alone.”

  Jack stroked his neatly clipped beard as if he were contemplating her words. He turned and paced the small backyard. The next time his back was to her, she pushed the pages under her chair, hidden by her skirt. It appeared he wasn’t a proficient reader but if he did peruse the letter further he would discover where Henry was.

  Jack came to a stop in front of her again. “Money alone is not enough. It is gone so easily.”

  He smirked and Harriet knew his pacing had all been an act.

  “What do you want, Mr Aldridge?” Her bravado had deserted her.

  “I think I am entitled to at least half of whatever my brother has. I am sure you have set him up well. My father would want the same for me.”

  “You’ve cleaned me out once already. How am I to set you up in a business?”

  “Oh no, Harriet. I don’t want my own business.” He stood tall and once more his face was in shadow. “I want half of yours.”

  Harriet felt the blood drain from her face. “How can … how will …” Words failed her. Once more she grasped for the necklace that was no longer there.

  “It’s simple: you will give me half your daily takings.”

  “Half. You don’t know about business, Mr Aldridge. I told you I have to pay staff, pay for goods. Some days there is very little left over for me.”

  “You will pay me a wage.”

  “A wage? What for?”

  “I will be your new employee. It will make a change from shearing sheep, lugging wheat bags and chasing stock. I am sure there must be the odd job you can find me. I am not averse to heavy lifting. I will be an official employee who receives a wage and half of whatever your daily take is.”

  “I have no need to employ you. My other staff will be suspicious.”

  Jack shrugged his shoulders. “You’ll work it out. You have a way of twisting the truth for your benefit.” He leaned in closer again. His brooding eyes focused on hers. “The problem is, Harriet, I don’t trust you. So I will need to be nearby, keep an eye on things so that I get my correct share.”

  Dread settled over Harriet like a cloak. She struggled to keep her brain focused.

  “You must give me time to think of a suitable job, a reason for your presence. I will need to prepare my staff.”

  “I am guessing it will be quite a shock for them when you employ a black man.” Once more his laugh was mirthless, his breath sour in her face. He stood back. “Very well. I have some unfinished business myself. I will need five pounds and I will be gone for two weeks. When I return you will welcome me as your new employee.”

  “I have money inside.” Harriet picked up the candle, eager to be rid of him. As she stood her leg wobbled beneath h
er and Jack took her arm.

  “Steady. I don’t want any harm to come to my new partner.”

  He guided her inside. She lit the lamp and took down a tin from the kitchen mantel. She kept a small amount of money there for housekeeping. Aware that he watched her every move she tipped the contents onto the table. Coins rolled in several directions at once. He slapped them to the table. She counted out nearly three pounds. He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

  “I have a little more in the till.” She took up the candle again.

  He followed her through the workroom and into the shop. She slid her hand behind the curtain at the back of the counter and felt for the tray. He took the candle from her and yanked back the curtain. There were two one-pound notes and an assortment of coins in the tray. It all added up to four pounds, eight shillings and three pence. She knew because she had counted it herself. Jack took the notes and then began to scoop out the coins.

  “Please leave me something. I will need some money for the start of business tomorrow.”

  He hesitated then let the curtain fall back into place. “I will be on my way now, Harriet.” He moved across to her shop door, drew the bolts then turned and gave her the candle. “I will be back in exactly two weeks to start our new partnership.”

  He slipped out of the door into the darkness. Harriet pushed it closed firmly behind him and slid the bolts back in to place. She blew out the candle and peered through the glass panes but could see nothing in the darkness. Letting out a breath, Harriet leaned her shoulder against the door, weak with relief that he was gone. Then she remembered the window. She hurried back to her sitting room, slammed the glass shut and turned the lock.

  What was she to do? Her eyes watered but she took out her handkerchief and dabbed them dry. Harriet had discovered at a young age she had little use for tears and had only succumbed to them a few times in her life. She was in a bind but there had to be a way out. Whatever it was she just hadn’t thought of it yet.

  How would she explain Jack’s presence to her staff, to Henry should he visit? She had always avoided native people, now she had to take one into her shop. Damn Septimus and his bastard son.

  She glanced across at Henry’s portrait. There was nothing for it. She would have to ask for his help. She would have to tell him about Jack but she didn’t want to commit her embarrassing tale to paper. No, she would have to travel to Hawker and tell Henry in person. If Catherine was in Adelaide they would have a better chance of speaking freely. Harriet didn’t want her daughter-in-law burdened any more than she already was. She was also quite sure Henry wouldn’t want his wife to know about her dead father-in-law’s indiscretions.

  Tired as she was Harriet began to make preparations. She would need to leave quite a list for Miss Wicksteed if she were to catch the following day’s train to Hawker. It was two days travel there and two days back. She could only afford to spend a day with Henry. She would send him a telegraph to expect her on an errand of great urgency.

  Twenty-nine

  His mother had said March was a terrible time of year for a wedding but when Joseph took Millie’s hand in the shearing shed at Wildu Creek, he didn’t care that the morning was already hot and that sweat trickled down his back inside his new shirt. Millie was smiling her beautiful smile and her eyes were wide with delight and love for him. He felt the same way about her and that was all that mattered.

  Reverend Masters had kindly detoured to Wildu Creek on his monthly visit to conduct Church of England services in the district and now read a bible passage on the virtue of marriage. The Reverend had been a little taken aback when he’d first met Millie but she’d quickly charmed him and assured him she, like Joseph, was devoted to their future together.

  Joseph’s family, under his mother’s directions, had cleaned the shearing shed and decorated it with the few bits of greenery they could find. His mother had created an arch using the branches of trees for them to stand in front of. Somewhere she’d found some switches of tiny white flowers to weave around the branches and Millie wore a sprig of them in her glossy dark hair.

  Behind them stood their family and a handful of close friends. Joseph knew they all harboured varying degrees of reservation about his marriage to Millie but he felt sure of their support none the less.

  The Reverend lifted his hand in the air and said a prayer over them. “Almighty God, who at the beginning did create our first parents, Adam and Eve, and did sanctify and join them together in marriage; Pour upon you the riches of his grace, sanctify and bless you, that ye may please him both in body and soul, and live together in holy love unto your lives’ end. Amen.”

  Behind them came a chorus of amens. Millie smiled up at him and Joseph pulled her gently into his arms and kissed her. They had only ever kissed during their rare moments alone. Joseph had been very careful that their developing relationship was virtuous – he knew they faced enough hurdles without adding to the gossip – but since Millie’s return from her visit to her family it had been harder and harder to stop at a simple kiss. Now his kiss was passionate, as he felt his new wife respond. There were claps and cheers, and reluctantly Joseph released her except for the grip he had on one hand. They turned to face those gathered as the Reverend declared them the new Mr and Mrs Joseph Baker.

  Esther and Violet rushed forward and flung their arms around them. Robert came too, pushing between them. Thomas and Lizzie hugged them both and then others lined up to congratulate them.

  Between hugs Joseph noticed William still sitting on the chairs that had been placed in the shed for the service. Even though he was only ten he appeared to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. Joseph caught his eye and winked. William gave a small smile in response and then he was lost from Joseph’s sight as Binda and Jundala came forward, offering their congratulations.

  Thomas clapped his hands and they all turned to look. “Please move down to the other end of the shed for some refreshments. The ladies have been cooking for days and Lizzie tells me there is some cool lemonade ready for you.”

  Joseph took Millie’s hand and leaned closer. “Happy?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Once more her brilliant smile lit up her face. “Very.”

  They moved to the other end of the shed where the big door was open and a slight breeze cooled their skin. Ellen came and hugged them both, her two little girls clinging to her skirts.

  “I am so happy to welcome a new sister-in-law.” Ellen kissed Millie on the cheek. “The lace collar on your shirt is so pretty. It goes well with the flowers in your hair and I love the diamond pattern in your skirt. You make the prettiest bride.”

  Millie glanced at Joseph. She was very confident when it was just them at Smith’s Ridge but she was never one to be the centre of attention like she was today.

  “I trust the groom meets with your approval, dear sister.” He deflected Ellen’s attention.

  “By far the handsomest man here.”

  “You can only say that because you husband isn’t present.”

  Ellen’s face turned serious. “I’m sorry Frederick couldn’t be here but his work has taken him to Adelaide for a week. He sends you his very best wishes.”

  “Thank you, Ellen,” Millie said.

  Joseph wondered at his brother-in-law’s absence. While Ellen had grown up with natives, Frederick had not been long from England and then had enjoyed Adelaide life before he married Ellen and they took up residence in Port Augusta. He was always very stilted with their native friends on his rare visits to Wildu Creek. Joseph suspected his brother-in-law wouldn’t approve of his marriage to Millie. Frederick’s trip to Adelaide may have been carefully timed.

  “Do come and eat.” Lizzie came to drag them away to the big table that had been set up and was positively groaning with food. Violet took Millie’s hand to show her the special floral arrangements she’d helped prepare to decorate the table.

  “Thank you, Mother.” Joseph bent to kiss Lizzie’s forehead.

  “What f
or?”

  “This.” He cast a hand towards the table then looked back at her. “And for everything.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Thomas slipped an arm around Lizzie’s waist.

  She reached up and gave Joseph’s cheek a gentle pat. “Just wishing our son every happiness.”

  Thomas thrust out his hand and shook Joseph’s. “Yes, that’s true, Joseph. I know I was … well a—”

  “Doubting Thomas?” Lizzie looked up at her husband and chuckled.

  “Well, you know we had misgivings, Joseph.” Thomas nudged his wife. “We both did.”

  “Nothing against Millie, you know we love her already.” Lizzie’s face shone with happiness.

  “I understand.” Joseph nodded. Like Binda they had expressed their concern at a mixed marriage and the difficulties it might bring for Joseph and his family.

  “Once we understood the depth of your love and commitment to each other your father and I would put no further obstacles in your way. Would we Thomas?”

  Joseph gave his father a wry smile. He had been able to convince his mother quite quickly that he loved Millie but his father had taken a little longer. He suspected it had been Lizzie who had brought Thomas around. Joseph would have married Millie anyway but it was better that his parents had given them their blessing.

  Lizzie linked her arms through those of the men. “Come on. Let’s enjoy some of this marvellous food.”

  It was a splendid spread, their wedding brunch timed to avoid the heat of midday and to allow Joseph and Millie time to ride home. After consuming more than his fair share Joseph found himself seated on a bench along the shed wall between his father and Timothy. William sat on Thomas’s other side.

 

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