CHAPTER 24
After Heath had gone, Abbey turned to Sybil with a worried expression on her face.
“What is it, Abbey?” Sybil asked.
“Your son won’t like me attending a dance with Mr. Mason. He doesn’t trust him.”
Clementine overheard this from the kitchen, and her mouth dropped open. She was furious with Abbey for thinking that Jack cared enough about her to object to her attending a dance with another man. Despite Clementine’s earlier worries that something inappropriate had happened between them, Clementine knew on a rational level that Jack would never pursue his mother’s companion. She thought Abbey must be delusional to believe that Jack would care about her attending a dance with Heath.
“I know he feels that way, Abbey, but do you trust Heath Mason?” Sybil asked.
“Yes,” Abbey said. In the back of her mind she did have reservations, but she had nothing specific to base them upon. She believed her reservations were more to do with his father than with Heath.
“Then we should trust your judgement. When it came to Ralph’s burns, Martha’s labour, and Max’s injuries, your judgement has saved the day. You’ve more than proved you can handle most any situation. Trust yourself, Abbey.”
“My judgement let me down in regard to Ebenezer Mason,” Abbey said very softly.
“You weren’t to blame for that,” Sybil whispered, just in case someone overheard. “He was a cunning man. I’m sure you were not the first young woman to have fallen into his trap.”
Clementine was straining to overhear what was being said. She thought she’d heard Heath’s father’s name mentioned, but not the details about him. That his name was mentioned at all, and in hushed tones, led her to believe that Abbey had a secret. This she found intriguing.
“You are young, and you should be enjoying things like dances,” Sybil said. “There’ll be many people there, so I’m sure you’ll be quite safe, and it will do you a world of good to have some time away from Bungaree. But to soothe any concerns that Jack might have, I’ll ask Elias to drive you to Manoora and wait and bring you home after the dance.” This also soothed any personal qualms she had about Heath Mason.
“But Mr. Mason has already said he’d pick me up and bring me home,” Abbey said.
“I’ll send him a note explaining the new plan,” Sybil said.
Abbey was a little relieved, thinking Jack wouldn’t have much to complain about now. She could relax. She thought it was kind of Sybil to look out for her.
Sybil’s eyes suddenly widened. “The dance is on Sunday, and it’s already Friday. That doesn’t leave us much time to find a dress.”
“Find a dress?”
“Yes, we’ll have to go tomorrow, Abbey,” Sybil said excitedly. “You’ll need a new dress, and I want to buy a gift for my new grandson.”
“I can wash the dress you gave me, Mrs. Hawker,” Abbey said. She still didn’t feel wholly comfortable with Sybil buying her clothes.
“What nonsense! You can’t wear that old thing. You must have something new, with shoes to match. Finding something perfect will be so much fun.”
Sybil seemed happier than Abbey had ever seen her, so she didn’t refuse. “I think I’ll lie down for an hour if you don’t mind?” she said.
“You do that,” Sybil said. “I’ll have a word with Sabu about lunch.”
Abbey had only just reached the landing on the stairs when she heard Sybil and Sabu shouting at each other. From what she overheard, Sabu was not happy about preparing a celebration lunch on a Hindustani holiday.
Abbey came back downstairs, just as Sabu stormed out of the backdoor. Sybil was on the verge of tears.
“I’m going to have guests for lunch, and he won’t cook,” she said to Abbey. “I told him Jack will fire him, but he says he doesn’t care. Of all the days for this to happen!”
“I’ll prepare lunch,” Abbey offered.
“I couldn’t ask you to do it, Abbey. You don’t feel well,” Sybil said. “I’ll get Jack to speak to Sabu.”
“I’m fine, honestly.” Abbey lied. “Don’t bother your son.” She noticed that Clementine was sitting in the kitchen, but she didn’t offer to help. When Abbey looked at Clementine, she stood up and said she was going to check on her father. Again, Heath’s words about Clementine went through Abbey’s mind, and it seemed more obvious than ever that she wouldn’t make a good farmer’s wife. She wondered if that thought had occurred to Jack—could it be part of the reason for the delay in a proposal?
“What can you make for lunch?” Sybil asked, glancing into the larder with none of the enthusiasm she’d had just a few minutes earlier.
“What did you have in mind?” Abbey asked her.
“Chicken and salad, I suppose,” Sybil said. “I was going to leave it up to Sabu. But the chickens would need to be killed and plucked.” She wrinkled her nose at the idea. “Sabu is very adept at that.”
“I’m not,” Abbey said. She found even the thought horrifying.
Sybil looked dismayed. “This is going to be a disaster. I just know it. We don’t have any meat to serve.”
“No, it won’t,” Abbey assured her. “I’ve made a tasty meal out of virtually nothing more than once,” she said. This was quite true. There had been times when her father had drunk or gambled all his pay, leaving virtually nothing for food.
Sybil imagined that Abbey meant she’d made Irish soda bread or potato cakes, and she shuddered.
“You’ve got a full larder here,” Abbey said, peering at the contents of the shelves. She noticed there was an abundance of eggs, as well as cheese and vegetables. “One of my neighbours in Burra was French. She used to make a wonderful dish called quiche, with eggs, cheese, and onion. It was quite simple, but delicious. I can make that if we have some baking dishes and flour.”
“Sabu has the kitchen stocked with more dishes than we will ever need,” Sybil said. “But there isn’t much time, and we’ll need a fresh salad, too, and some bread. This is going to be too much for you.” Sabu could do six things at once when he put his mind to it, but Sybil couldn’t imagine Abbey coping with all that lunch would require.
“You could help with the salad preparation,” Abbey suggested.
“Me? I’m useless in a kitchen.”
“Surely you can chop tomatoes and cucumbers,” Abbey suggested.
Sybil knew there was little choice. Obviously, Clementine had no intentions of helping. “Yes, I suppose I can,” she said unenthusiastically.
“Good, we’ll get busy, then,” Abbey said.
Sybil was amazed by Abbey’s positive attitude and take-charge manner. She inspired confidence and admiration.
Abbey found the flour, salt, and butter, and got started on making pastry dough. Meanwhile, Sybil called out to Frank Fox and asked him to fetch her some salad vegetables from the garden. While he was doing that, she watched Abbey, who had mixed the flour, butter, and a pinch of salt into a crumbly mixture. Next, Abbey added an egg and some water. Once this was mixed into a ball, she began rolling out the pastry. When it was the right thickness, she lined two large baking tins, trimmed the pastry, and put them in the oven.
“What about the filling?” Sybil asked her. Frank brought the cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, and lettuce to the backdoor, and Abbey instructed Sybil to wash, peel, and chop them.
“I’ll do that now,” Abbey said. She fried some finely chopped onion in butter, and then whisked in several eggs, a tablespoon of flour, some cream, and grated cheese. Next, she took the pastry-lined pans out of the oven and poured in the mixture before returning the pans to the oven. “If we had ham, I could have chopped some and put that in, too,” Abbey said absently. She realised too late that her statement would inspire Sybil to ask questions again.
“Are you going to tell me what happened to the ham?” Sybil asked. “I’m certain you know.”
>
“No,” Abbey said. “It’s not my place.”
“Sabu threw it to the dogs, didn’t he?” Sybil said.
Abbey had hoped that Sybil would guess the truth, but now that she had, Abbey was quite surprised. She made no comment, however.
“I know what he’s like, Abbey, and he can be impulsive at times,” Sybil said. “I can just see him doing something like that to be spiteful.”
Still, Abbey made no comment as she cleaned up her mess.
“I’m just disappointed that he lied about it,” Sybil said softly, as she chopped the tomatoes.
“He might have been afraid that he’d lose his job,” Abbey said, flicking a glance at her.
“Does he seem frightened he’ll lose his job?” Sybil said. “He defies me and Jack all the time.”
“I think your son will really fire him for refusing to make lunch,” Abbey said. She was certain of it. He’d definitely lost patience with the cook.
“Yes, he probably will. I know Sabu has nowhere to go. I don’t understand his attitude.”
***
An hour later, they were all sitting at the table, including Ralph, who’d insisted on coming down to eat. The food looked amazing, and the smell of the quiche wafted temptingly through the kitchen. Sybil had been truly impressed when Abbey took the baking tins out of the oven, and had enthusiastically admired the golden brown crust of the delectable dish.
Now, with her family around her, including her new grandson in his crib, Sybil smiled. Her salad looked quite appetising, as well, and she’d actually enjoyed herself while making it. Abbey had commented that if Sybil learned to cook, perhaps she wouldn’t find life in the country so dull, and Sybil contemplated the idea. Sabu had always made cooking look so complicated with so many ingredients and spices, but Abbey had made it look easy.
When Jack tasted the quiche, his eyes lit up. “Sabu has never cooked this before,” he said. “I can’t taste even a hint of spice, and it’s wonderful.” He watched as his mother glanced at Abbey with a conspiratorial look on her face. “Did Sabu make this?” he asked suspiciously.
“No,” Sybil said candidly. She was determined not to protect Sabu this time. “Abbey made it and deserves full credit.” She took a bite of the slice on her plate. “Mmm. Delicious, isn’t it?”
Martha and William agreed, and so did Tom and Fred Roundtree, as well, who was now dressed in a clean shirt and trousers, with his face shaven and his hair combed. He looked like a different person. Clementine refrained from comment.
“Your mother prepared the salad,” Abbey said proudly to Jack. “It’s very good, isn’t it?”
Jack looked at his mother in confusion. “Yes, but what did Sabu make?” he asked tensely.
“Nothing,” Sybil said, “but we can discuss that later.” She glanced at Fred Roundtree to hint that it wouldn’t be appropriate to discuss such matters with a guest in the house.
Jack bit his tongue.
“William and I would love to have you all over for dinner on Sunday evening,” Martha said.
“You don’t have to do that, Martha,” Jack said. “The baby will probably keep you up all night for the next few weeks.”
“We’d like to, Jack. It would be our way of thanking you for your hospitality and for all Abbey and your mother did for me.”
Abbey glanced at Sybil. She wanted to tell Jack about going to the dance in Manoora with Heath at the right time, when he was in a good mood. Now was definitely not that time. His anger with Sabu was simmering just below the surface, and it wasn’t going to take much to unleash it. The mention of Heath Mason would certainly do it.
“Abbey is going out on Sunday night,” Sybil said casually, thinking it might be wise to tell Jack right away. She believed, with guests, that he might hold his temper.
Jack looked at Abbey blankly. “Going out? Where?” he asked.
Abbey swallowed the lump in her throat and glanced nervously at Sybil again.
“Never mind,” Martha said cheerfully. “We can have dinner together the following weekend.”
Jack looked at his mother with a frown on his face.
Sybil knew she had better explain. “Abbey has been invited to a dance in Manoora. I suggested she go, as it will do her good.”
“A dance in Manoora?” Jack said. He looked at Abbey again. “Who invited you?” He had a good idea, but he still hoped he was wrong.
“Heath Mason,” Abbey said in a small voice. “He called at the house a few hours ago. Apparently, he called yesterday, too,” she added pointedly.
Jack looked momentarily uncomfortable. “He did,” he admitted. He was thinking about what Heath had said, about only being friends with Abbey. Why, then, did he invite her to a dance?
Abbey watched as Jack clenched his jaw. Clearly, he wanted to explode, but somehow he held his temper in check.
Clementine was watching him closely, too. She noted his reaction, but didn’t know what to make of it. She decided to further test him. “I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time, Abbey,” she gushed. “They hold some very good dances in Manoora, and I think you’ll find Mr. Mason to be a very attentive escort.” She looked at Jack.
Abbey wished Clementine would hold her tongue. She was only adding fuel to the fire. It was almost as if she were doing it on purpose. But why?
“Would you like to go to the dance, Clementine?” Jack asked.
Clementine blinked in surprise. That had been the last thing she’d expected to hear. “Me?” she said.
“We haven’t had a night out in ages,” Jack added.
“No, we haven’t,” Clementine admitted. “You’ve always been too busy.” She was shocked that he could now suddenly find the time to get away from Bungaree.
“Then would you like to go?” Jack asked again. He was aware that Abbey was staring at him.
Clementine was rageing inside. She could see right through Jack’s plan. He wanted to keep an eye on Abbey. Well, she’d give him something else to keep an eye on. “Only if Tom can come with us,” she said pointedly.
Tom looked up from his lunch. “Me?” he said, wondering how he had gotten into this discussion.
“Yes, Tom,” Clementine said sweetly. “You aren’t going to meet the future Mrs. Tom Hawker in the middle of a paddock, you know.”
Sybil laughed out loud, and her youngest son blushed.
“No, I suppose I won’t,” Tom said, smiling.
“Then it’s settled,” Clementine said. “We’ll all attend the dance together.” She glared at Jack and then glanced at Abbey, who looked thoroughly uncomfortable.
The last person Clementine wanted to see was Heath. But she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to find out what he saw in Abbey, and she could only do that by observing them together.
“Martha and I have chosen a name for our son, Mother,” William said proudly. “We were going to tell you on Sunday evening, but we can do it now.” He smiled at his wife.
“Oh,” Sybil said excitedly. “Don’t keep us in suspense. What is it?”
“Gerald Hastings Hawker,” William proclaimed. “’Gerald’ after Father, and ‘Hastings’ after Martha’s father.”
“Baby Gerald will be the fifth generation to carry the Hastings’ name,” Martha said. “Hopefully our son will pass on his other grandfather’s name, too.”
Sybil’s eyes filled with tears. “That’s wonderful,” she said. “Your father would have been ever so pleased,” she said to William. “And yours, Martha.”
“Here, here,” the brothers said, raising their glasses in a toast. “To baby Gerald Hastings Hawker.”
***
After lunch, Jack and Fred Roundtree walked down to the pen holding the rams. Tom went home, and Jack promised to be at Anama within the hour to get on with the digging of the bore. While William and Martha prepared to go home, Syb
il asked Clementine to share a pot of tea with her. Sybil asked Abbey to join them, as well, but Abbey said that she had something else she wanted to do.
“We’re going into Clare in the morning to find a dress for Abbey,” Sybil said to Clementine as she handed her a cup of tea. “I also want to make a few purchases for my new grandson. I’ve never been able to knit, but the women at the Country Women’s Association make beautiful things for children and sell them as a fundraiser.”
“I’ve nothing to wear to the dance, either,” Clementine moaned. “All my good clothes were lost in the fire.”
“Oh, of course they were, dear. How thoughtless of me. Would you like to come with us?”
“Yes, I’d love to.”
“It’s settled then. We’ll get an early start right after breakfast.”
***
Abbey went to look for Sabu. She wanted to talk to him before Jack fired him. Jack had put Max back in the garden, where he was resting in his own kennel and had the other dogs for company, so she had a good idea where the cook might be.
Abbey opened the door to the barn and saw Sabu kneeling in prayer. She went in as quietly as she could and waited for him to finish.
Sensing he was no longer alone, Sabu turned around crossly. “Do you mind?” he hissed. “I prefer to pray alone.”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Sabu, but I’d like to talk to you, and it can’t wait. Jack is working now, but when he gets back, I think he’s going to fire you.”
“I don’t care,” Sabu said defiantly.
Abbey wondered if the cook was convinced that Jack would never fire him. “Oh, then you must have another position and somewhere else to live. Why didn’t you say so?”
Sabu looked away.
“I didn’t think that was the case, Sabu, so why are you trying to be dismissed?” Abbey went towards him, and he stood up. “As far as I can see, you’ve got it quite easy here, and it’s a lovely place. The Hawkers are good people.”
“My religion is not being respected,” Sabu snapped.
Shadows in the Valley Page 37