Meg Tavis broke free of Abbey’s grasp and pushed forward, only to be stopped. “Where’s my son?” she cried, beating the chest of the man who had prevented her from getting too close to the shaft. “Where’s my Neal? Save him!” she screamed. “You have to save him.” For a few moments, she became wildly frantic, and then she collapsed, fainting.
Suddenly the Morphett Engine spluttered to life again.
“Thank you, God,” Abbey whispered, tears running down her cheeks. She imagined an air pocket in the shaft and Neal and her father in it, waiting to be saved. She absolutely believed it must be true. She went to Meg’s side and took her limp hand.
“They’ll be out in a minute, Mrs. Tavis,” she said. “You’ll see. Father and Neal will be safe.” Abbey was sure everything would be all right. It had to be. She’d lost her mother, brother, and sister. She couldn’t lose her father, too.
It seemed to take an eternity to drain the mineshaft. As soon as the water had receded enough, several men went in to look for the missing miners. Abbey left Meg’s side and went as close to the entrance as she could. She wanted to be there when her father came out. She wanted to be the first person he saw. Time dragged on mercilessly, but Abbey was certain her father would be all right. She intended to berate him for frightening her witless, and she also intended on insisting that he stop working in the mine.
Ten minutes passed, and there was no sign of the missing men or their would-be rescuers.
“Where are they?” Abbey asked a miner standing nearby. “What’s taking so long?”
“They have to be cautious,” the miner told her. “The shafts will be unstable.”
Abbey caught a hint of concern in his tone, and it worried her, but she saw no reason to give up hope. Her father and Neal were all right. She knew it in her heart. God wouldn’t be so cruel as to leave her alone in the world. He wouldn’t do that.
The waiting was absolutely unbearable, but finally men began to come out. They were soaked and looked exhausted. Abbey was joyous with relief, yet still she searched frantically for her father’s or Neal’s face.
“Where’s my father?” Abbey called to one of them. “Have you found Finlay Scottsdale or Neal Tavis?”
The miner came to stand before her. “We found them,” he said solemnly, placing his hand on her shoulder.
His words made Abbey’s heart leap with joy. “Where are they? They’re not hurt, are they?”
The miner said nothing. Abbey noticed his eyes were sorrowful, and the glimmer of hope inside her snuffed out. He stepped aside, and Abbey saw that his comrades were carrying three men, their bodies lifeless as they were placed side by side on the ground. First Jock McManus, then her father, and, finally, Neal.
Abbey could only stare at their lifeless bodies. Judy McManus threw herself over her husband, sobbing. All around her Abbey heard mumbles, accusations against Ebenezer Mason for not spending the money needed to maintain the Morphett Engine. The conversation she’d had with her father the night before kept playing in her mind. Just hours ago, he’d suggested she court the man who was now responsible for his death.
When the crowd around her dispersed, Abbey stumbled forward and looked down at her father’s face as he lay lifeless beside Neal and Jock. No. No. No. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. Abbey had imagined herself throwing her arms around her father and Neal, sobbing tears of joy. This can’t be happening, she thought. It’s not real.
In death, Neal looked like a young schoolboy between the two older men.
“Neal” Abbey whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her heart ached with agony. Neal was gone. They would never have a family together. She cried for Neil and for the babies she’d never have with him. Abbey noted that the three men were a strange colour, but she still couldn’t grasp that they were dead. It didn’t seem possible.
“Father,” Abbey whimpered, bending to touch his face, which was icy cold despite the heat of the day. In the background she could hear Meg’s hysterical sobs.
“Don’t leave me all alone, Father,” she whispered. “I need you. Please, don’t leave me.”
***
In the hours that followed, Abbey was in a daze. She was vaguely aware of being escorted back to her dugout by one of the miners, and of him telling her that her father’s body would be taken to Herman’s Funeral Parlor, where Herman Schultz would prepare it for burial. A trickle of local women stopped by her dugout to offer sympathy, but Abbey barely acknowledged them. It wasn’t until one of her father’s friends encouraged her to drink half a flask of whisky that evening, that she was able to pull herself together and stop crying long enough to think about Neal’s mother and sisters.
Almost in a trance, Abbey headed for the dugout where Neal had lived. She was worried about Meg because of her fragile health. Abbey hadn’t been in a frame of mind to consider what she herself would do, or how she would support herself, but she couldn’t help worrying about how Meg and the girls would cope without Neal.
Abbey was startled to find the dugout deserted and all their belongings gone. She didn’t know what to think.
“Are you looking for Meg, Abbey?” Vera Nichols from the dugout next door asked.
“Yes, Mrs. Nichols,” Abbey said. “Do you know where she is?”
“I thought you would have heard that she’s been taken by dray to the hospital in Clare. A doctor was called to the mine.”
“No,” Abbey said in disbelief.
“I’m very sorry about your father, love,” Vera said sadly.
Abbey could only nod as tears ran down her cheeks, but Vera understood.
“I brought my Dennis home after they pulled him out of the mine, so I didn’t see Meg before she was taken away. I was told that she had taken her son’s death very badly, and apparently she’s very ill.”
Abbey felt racked with guilt. She sniffed and blew her nose. “What about Mr. Nichols?”
“He’ll be fine, but it’s a miracle. Beatrice Smythe told me Meg’s in a very bad way and might not live,” Vera added gently. She thought it was better to be honest with Abbey, rather than hide the truth of the situation. “Apparently, the doctor thinks her heart may be failing. Not surprising, is it?” she sighed raggedly.
“Where are Mrs. Tavis’s possessions and clothes, and the girls’?” Abbey asked. They hadn’t had much, but even Neal’s clothes were gone, although Abbey couldn’t bring herself to mention him for fear her tears would come again.
“Beatrice and I packed everything up and stored it in her home. It wouldn’t take long for the scavengers to move in if the dugout was empty for a few days, and then everything would be gone.”
“Oh,” Abbey said. She couldn’t stop thinking about Meg. In deserting her, Abbey felt she had let Neal down. “I should have made certain she was all right. I shouldn’t have left her.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Abbey. Meg knows you are in shock, and you have your own pain to deal with. She’s never been very strong, so it wouldn’t be surprising if her health couldn’t withstand something like this.”
“What about Amy and Emily? Who is looking after them?” Abbey asked, brushing away the fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. The twin girls were only eleven years old.
“They went with Meg,” Vera said. “If Meg does pass away, God forbid, I suppose they will be taken to an orphanage in Clare or sent to one in Adelaide. They have no family here in Australia, and none of us are in a position to take them in. It’s a terrible tragedy. Let us just pray they aren’t separated. That would be awful.”
Abbey couldn’t bear to think about how distraught and afraid Amy and Emily would be after losing their brother and now having their mother so ill. Pain washed over her again, and she collapsed in the dust at her feet.
Vera always tried her best to be stoic, as it was the only way she could cope with so much heartache around her, but witnessing Abbe
y’s sorrow was almost her undoing. She knew what she’d been through that day, and Abbey was too young to cope with so much loss.
Kneeling beside Abbey as she sobbed, Vera put a comforting arm around her shoulder. “There, there, dear. It’s been a terrible day for you, hasn’t it?” she said emotionally. “I know you loved Neal and to lose your father, as well” She pursed her thin lips. “That Ebenezer Mason has a lot to answer for. But you have to pull yourself together and go on, Abbey. There’s nothing else you can do.”
At the mention of the mine owner’s name, Abbey lifted her head and braced her shoulders, reminding herself that she had somewhere to direct her pain and anger. But first she had to see to it that her father received the burial he deserved.
***
After closing time at the Miner’s Arms, Paddy Walsh, one of Finlay’s closest friends, visited Creek Street.
“I’ve come on behalf of the regulars at the Miner’s Arms, Abbey. Please accept our deepest sympathy,” he said gravely. He was holding his cap. “Yer father was a fine man, a gentleman and a real good mate. It mightn’t help much, but I took up a collection.” He self-consciously removed a few pounds and some loose coins from his cap and handed it to her. “I know it’s not much, but we hope it helps with the funeral costs. If ye let us know when it is, we’ll be there, and afterwards there’ll be a wake at the pub, which yer welcome to attend.” He cleared his throat, as his voice was cracking with emotion.
Abbey was aware of the close relationship between her father and his friends, but she could also see that Paddy had drunk more than his fair share of beer before coming to see her.
“Thank you, Mr. Walsh,” she said in a shaky voice. She wasn’t comfortable taking money from her father’s friends, but she was in no position to refuse.
Abbey had been visited by one of the town’s two undertakers that afternoon, so she knew what a decent funeral for her father would cost. The few pounds collected by Paddy wouldn’t cover it. Pride prevented her from saying anything, however. She was more determined than ever to ask Ebenezer Mason to pay, because he was responsible.
“I never liked the idea of your father working at the mine,” Paddy said. “I always said it was too bloody dangerous to be underground. Your father knew it, too, but he was afraid to leave the mine in case he couldn’t get anything else.”
Paddy’s words made Abbey feel even guiltier. If her father had been afraid to leave the mine and look for work elsewhere, it must have been because he had her to consider. For the first time, it occurred to her that perhaps she’d been a real burden on him, and this only added to her despair.
“Have ye thought about what you’ll do now, Abbey?” Paddy asked gently.
“No, I haven’t,” she admitted. “I suppose I’ll have to look for work. My father would never let me when he was alive.” She almost broke down. “He said it was my place to look after him until I married.” Thinking of Neal, Abbey couldn’t hold back the tears.
“Keep your chin up, lass,” Paddy said awkwardly. “I know it must be hard. My landlady, Mrs. Slocomb, might be looking for a cleaner,” he said. “If ye can’t find anything better, go and see her.”
After Paddy had gone, Abbey curled up on her burlap bed on the dirt floor of the dugout, hoping to sleep, but she’d never felt more lonely or afraid in her life. At least after losing her mother, she had still had her father. Now she had no one. Not a soul in the world, or at least in Australia. She certainly didn’t have the means to return to her aunt and uncle in Ireland. Her heartache was overwhelming. And it was all Ebenezer Mason’s fault. She couldn’t understand why someone with so much money wouldn’t protect his workers by maintaining the equipment used in the mine. It was criminal as far as she was concerned. If she had her way, he’d be locked up in the Redruth Jail. But she knew that would never happen. He was too revered in the district of Burra, and she’d heard talk that he had every constable in town in his back pocket.
***
Abbey cried off and on until the sun came up, so she was exhausted the next morning, but a sense of purpose motivated her to get up. She was just about to leave for the mine, to confront Ebenezer Mason, when the undertaker, Herman Schultz, arrived.
“It’s going to be very hot, Miss Scottsdale, so we will have to conduct your father’s funeral today, rather than tomorrow, as planned,” he said apologetically.
“Today?!” Abbey gasped.
“Yes, this afternoon at the latest.”
“But I don’t have enough money for a coffin or headstone yet,” Abbey told him.
“We’ll do the best we can with what you’ve got,” Herman said sympathetically. “The casket will have to be a simple pine box, and you can make the grave marker yourself.”
“What about Neal Tavis?” Abbey asked in a shaky voice. “His mother’s been taken to hospital in Clare, so who will bury him?”
Herman looked pained. “Mr. Tavis will be given a pauper’s burial,” he admitted sadly. In such cases the Burra Shire Council paid Herman a token fee.
Abbey gasped. “That’s not right,” she said angrily. “The mine owner should be paying for a good burial for my father, Neal, and Jock. It’s the very least he could do.”
“I cannot approach anyone at the mine and ask for money, Miss Scottsdale,” Herman said. “It’s not my place.”
“Well, I can,” Abbey snapped. “And that’s just what I intend to do. I want my father to have the bestand Neal, too. I’ll get the money, you’ll see.”
Herman looked uncomfortable. “I must get paid, Miss Scottsdale. I’ve got a large family to feed.”
“You will,” Abbey promised determinedly.
Herman Schultz didn’t know Ebenezer Mason personally, but since opening his business in Burra five years ago, there had been twelve deaths at the mine, and the mine owner had never offered to pay for any of the funerals. As such, he thought Abbey had very little chance of getting any money. “I’m sorry, Miss Scottsdale, but I’ll require payment before the funeral,” he said, embarrassed.
“I understand,” Abbey said resentfully.
She went straight to the mine, but at the office was told that Mr. Mason wasn’t there. “Then, where is he?” she demanded of the office assistant, Mrs. Sneebickler. “I’m not leaving until I see him.”
Mrs. Sneebickler was a no-nonsense type of woman, well- suited to working in the masculine environment of a mining company. She ruled her office with an iron fist, and normally not even the toughest brute got anything past her. But when faced with a forlorn, grieving young girl who’d just lost her father, and who just wanted some answers and help, her steely resolve deserted her.
“Go home, Abbey, and come back tomorrow. Mr. Mason might be here, then,” she said firmly but compassionately. “There’s nothing I can do.”
Abbey stood her ground. “If Mr. Mason isn’t here, I want to see whoever’s in charge,” she said, fighting tears. “I won’t leave until I speak to someone who can help me.”
Seeing that the girl was on the verge of hysterics, Mrs. Sneebickler relented. She’d liked Finlay Scottsdale, who had always been respectful and courteous, even when she’d been short with him.
“The mine’s manager is here. He’s very busy, but I’ll see if he’ll come to the office.”
“Thank you,” Abbey said, fighting tears. Just being at the mine so soon after the accident was difficult for her.
Mrs. Sneebickler sent someone to fetch Frank Bond to the office.
***
Knowing that his boss wouldn’t stand for the mining operation to be stopped for very long, Frank Bond had been supervising work on the Morphett Engine, and it wasn’t going well. He was agitated at being disturbed and was ready to lose his temper by the time he got to the office.
It wasn’t until he was confronted by Abbey, whose eyes were full of tears, and was told that she wanted Ebenezer Mason to pay
for his employees’ funerals, that he calmed down. Frank told her that he sympathised, but that he couldn’t authorise any type of compensation unless he spoke to Ebenezer Mason first.
“Then, where is he?” Abbey demanded.
“As far as I know he’s at his home in Mintaro, Miss Scottsdale,” Frank explained uncomfortably.
Mintaro was about fifteen miles away, which meant Abbey didn’t have enough time to get there and back before her father’s funeral. Besides, she didn’t own a horse and buggy and couldn’t afford to rent one.
“Doesn’t he know that three of his employees have been killed?” Abbey couldn’t believe he’d stay at home after such a tragedy.
“We sent word immediately after the accident,” Frank said, embarrassed. “But so far, we haven’t heard from him.” Frank was actually very angry with his boss for not coming to Burra immediately after receiving news of what had happened, but he was powerless to do anything about it. Ebenezer Mason had always been aloof and detached from his workers. Unless he had a specific reason, he hardly ever spoke to them. His priority was the profitability of the mine, the results of which he used to support his lavish lifestyle.
“That’s not good enough,” Abbey declared. “My father and Neal must be buried today because of the heat.” She was barely holding herself together.
“I’m very sorry, Miss Scottsdale.” Frank Bond was genuinely regretful. “But there’s nothing I can do.”
Abbey could see the guilt in his features, but it didn’t soften her heart. She was sure he was aware of his boss’s poor safety practices. A small part of her understood that he wouldn’t say anything for fear of losing his job, but if no one spoke out, more lives would be lost. Somebody had to take a stand.
“That Ebenezer Mason hasn’t come to the mine to speak to his workers’ families is appalling, cowardly behaviour and absolutely unforgivable, as far as I’m concerned,” Abbey stated.
Shadows in the Valley Page 3