“I don’t know much about your religion, Sabu. Is it customary to not eat anything at all on holidays?”
“Someone like you would not understand that fasting is a way of cleansing the body.”
“You are right. I don’t understand how starving is cleansing,” Abbey said. She wasn’t going to pretend that she understood.
“I eat fruit throughout the day and a very small meal in the evening. I’m not starving,” Sabu said defensively. “It’s a healthy way of living. It’s a form of discipline that brings me closer to the soul of the universe.”
“Oh,” Abbey said, sensing that she was out of her depth. “I can respect your ways, even if you think I can’t. But explain to me why you will not cook on the days that you are getting closer to the soul of the universe.”
Sabu’s eyes narrowed, suspecting that she was mocking his religion.
“No, really,” Abbey insisted. “That part I don’t understand.”
“It’s because no one respects or appreciates what I do. You are too young and too Irish to understand something so complex.”
Abbey flinched. She didn’t understand what being Irish had to do with it. “Are you sure it’s not because preparing wonderful food is difficult when you can’t eat it? Irish or not, I’d struggle with that.”
Abbey could see by Sabu’s expression that she’d hit upon the truth, at least in part.
Sabu looked away, without comment.
“Mrs. Hawker and her son do not understand how hard that is, do they?” Abbey asked. “But I do because I’ve smelt food that my neighbours have been cooking when I’ve had nothing to prepare. I’ve an idea, Sabu. I like cooking, and I’m very happy to do it when it’s a Hindustani holiday. Why not let me? I know Mr. Hawker said he wouldn’t pay you for the days you don’t cook, but you don’t really need the money, do you? You don’t have a family to support, and you obviously don’t socialise or spend money in town.”
“I do not have family in Australia, but I have a large family back in India,” Sabu admitted.
“Is that so?” Abbey asked. “Do you send them money?”
“I send most of my wages back to India to help my family,” Sabu said. “They depend upon me.”
Abbey was surprised, and she discovered a new respect for the cook. She’d imagined him to be selfish, but obviously that was not the case. “Do the Hawkers know that?” she asked.
Sabu looked away again, his features set proudly.
“I see,” Abbey said, beginning to understand. “I lived in the dugouts in Burra, Sabu, but I don’t tell anyone that, either. Sometimes pride holds us back. I think you’d find the Hawkers more understanding if they knew the truth.”
“They should trust and respect me. I’ve been here a long time,” Sabu said, still upset.
“They do respect you, Sabu. They think you are a wonderful cook. Why do you think they have put up with your tantrums this long?”
Sabu glared at her, but Abbey smiled at him, and the cook had to look away because he feared he’d return her smile, and that would be a show of weakness.
“If you leave, you won’t get the chance to win back the money you lost to me in Liar’s Poker,” Abbey said. “Not that you could”
Sabu’s head snapped round. “I could beat you if given the chance,” he said.
“We won’t know if you leave, will we?” Abbey said.
“If Mr. Hawker fires me, I’ll have no choice,” Sabu replied flatly.
“He won’t fire you if you tell him the truth,” Abbey said, catching a hint of regret in his voice.
“I cannot,” Sabu said defiantly. He lifted his chin.
Abbey was frustrated. “Very well. I tried.” She walked towards the door. “I may rearrange the kitchen after you’ve gone,” she said casually, knowing this would rile the cook. “And I’ll be throwing out all of those strange spices.” Abbey glanced back before she went out the door. Sabu looked livid. She just hoped that he was mad enough to explain the situation to Sybil or Jack before it was too late.
CHAPTER 25
Before going to bed, Abbey decided to take a walk, as she felt queasy again. It was a lovely balmy evening, and as she walked, she took deep breaths, hoping to settle her stomach. Jack hadn’t yet returned from working on his brother’s station, although Abbey thought he might have stopped to check on his rams before coming up to the house. She felt sorry for him, as she knew he’d be exhausted.
Abbey wandered in the direction of the paddock where the rams were. For the time being, they’d been put where the lambs had been born, just behind the shearing sheds. Jack wasn’t there, and neither was anyone else. She supposed Ernie and Wilbur were still guarding the lambs somewhere else on the vast property, and she hadn’t seen Elias since that morning. She’d noticed a lamp burning in the swaggie’s hut, and assumed Fred Roundtree was probably settling in to enjoy a comfortable night’s rest in a bed after days on the road. He would begin the journey back to Truro the next morning. Fred was a nice man, who had told them he had a family of five sons and a daughter. At lunch he’d talked quite a bit about his farmland near Truro, where he bred Merinos and Rambouillet rams. Jack had visited his farm when he bought the rams, and he said it was a lovely place.
Standing beside the fence railings, Abbey tried to absorb the unique sounds of the bush transitioning from day to night. The endless sky looked magnificent as wisps of clouds were streaked with flaming pinks and oranges, a dramatic backdrop for the canopy of the majestic blue gums. Crickets chirped on the ground and kookaburras made their laughing sound in the outstretched boughs of the trees. It was such a tranquil scene, and its peace should have resonated within Abbey’s soul, but she felt troubled and unsettled. Something wasn’t right. She had a terrible feeling. It was so dreadful that she couldn’t even let it enter her mind where she’d have to confront it. So, instead, she buried it where it caused her the most painin her heart.
***
Clementine had wanted to talk to Abbey to see if she could pry some information from her about Ebenezer Mason, but Abbey had seemed so aloof when she returned from talking to Sabu. She had hardly spoken to anyone, not even Sybil. Sybil sensed that something wasn’t right. She had an idea about what it might be, but she prayed she was wrong.
When Abbey left the house, Clementine went into the back garden and looked out through the gate, to see which direction Abbey had taken. When she headed towards the shearing sheds, Clementine suspected she was looking for Jack, hoping to garner some time alone with him. Bitter and jealous, she followed Abbey at a distance.
Instead of going through the shearing sheds, however, Abbey walked around them, sure her queasy stomach couldn’t take the smell. Clementine went into the sheds and watched Abbey through a crack in the door on the far side. She found the odor in the sheds overpoweringly awful, but she was willing to suffer it to find out if Jack was being unfaithful.
As Abbey watched the rams, she noticed Jack’s spare hat lying on the ground in the paddock, not too far from the fence rail. She figured he’d left it on the top of a fence post and that the wind had caught it. She wondered if the rams would chew on it. They seemed to be nibbling on everything they could find, including hardy weeds and pieces of tree branches. However, after witnessing Napoleon crash into the fence rail, Abbey wasn’t keen on entering the paddock to retrieve the hat. Instead, she walked alongside the fence, picked up a long, thin tree branch, and tried to hook the hat from outside the fence without success.
“Damn,” Abbey said in frustration when the branch broke. She continued to watch the rams as they slowly made their way around the paddock in search of feed. Jack had earlier given them some hay, but they’d eaten all of that. As they slowly moved towards the other side of the paddock, she wondered if she dared try then to retrieve the hat. She knew if she left the hat, it would probably be in pieces by morning, or, worse, eaten by the rams.
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It could make them sick, Abbey thought. She was afraid to try and retrieve it, but the thought of Napoleon or one of the other rams becoming ill and dying didn’t bear thinking about. If she didn’t get the hat, and something like that happened, she’d never forgive herself.
Clementine watched as Abbey opened the gate cautiously. “What’s she doing?” she wondered aloud.
Abbey closed the gate behind her, and then walked slowly along the fence line towards the hat. The rams were still feeding fifty yards away and didn’t seem to notice her. When she reached the hat, some twenty yards from the gate, she bent and picked it up. Just as she did, one of the rams lifted its head and turned in her direction. Abbey froze.
Clementine watched in fascination. She couldn’t believe Abbey was in the paddock with rams. If one of them struck her, it would surely kill her. Her first thought, in her present, jealous state of mind, was not to find this an altogether dreadful prospect. But she knew she wouldn’t like to witness something so terrible, and as jealous as she felt, she didn’t truly wish any harm to come to Abbey.
Abbey watched the ram, not daring to move. She thought if it began moving towards her, she might have to make a run for the gate. She tried to mentally work out how long it would take her to reach the gate, and what speed a ram could run, but her biggest fear was that she’d become paralysed with terror and find herself rooted to the spot.
The ram didn’t move, but it didn’t take its eyes off her, either. Slowly, Abbey began taking small steps backwards, towards the fence, being cautious not to make any sudden movements. She even held her breath. A wave of nausea made her feel sick, but she forced the bile in her throat down. Unfortunately, she realised that her skirts would impede her getting over the fence quickly, and there wasn’t a big enough space at the bottom to crawl underneath. She was trying not to panic.
Clementine watched, her gaze darting from Abbey to the rams. She wondered if Abbey could climb the fence quickly if she had to. Somehow, she doubted it.
Suddenly another ram looked up, his head turning in Abbey’s direction. He took a few steps towards her, and Abbey froze again. She prayed it wasn’t Napoleon, as Fred had claimed he was feisty, and she’d seen that for herself.
Move, Abbey told herself, but she couldn’t.
“Run,” Clementine whispered. “Run!”
The ram put his head down again and began chewing on a bit of greenery. Abbey’s heart was racing, but she recovered some of her nerve. I’ll act natural, she told herself, and turned her back. She walked towards the gate, all the while listening in case the rams began charging her. The gate was just over twenty steps away, but her legs felt as heavy as tree trunks. It seemed like miles.
By the time she reached the gate she was so light-headed she thought she’d collapse. Her fingers fumbled with the wire that overhung the gatepost, so she put the hat on the opposite fence-post and pulled the gate open with two hands. She went out and turned to close it again, exhaling a huge sigh of relief. To her amazement, the rams hadn’t moved, but they were all watching her.
Clementine also sighed with relief. One part of her admired Abbey, but the jealous part was annoyed. Luck seemed to always be on Abbey’s side.
Abbey began walking back to the house. She didn’t even look back. All she wanted was the sanctuary of her room and the comfort of her bed.
Clementine’s anger with Abbey surged again, and she stepped out of the sheds and walked towards the gate to the paddock. It seemed like Abbey couldn’t put a foot wrong at the moment, and everyone admired her. She cooked delicious food. She delivered babies. She sat up all night with a sick dog. She could ride well. She had helped her father, and Clementine was grateful, but that had only made Jack admire her more. If only she’d make a mistake, Clementine thought.
What if Abbey had left this gate open? Clementine asked herself, noting that Abbey had left the hat behind on the gatepost. Would they all admire her then? An idea flashed through Clementine’s mind, and her lips twisted into a smile. A few moments later Clementine headed back to the house.
***
The next morning, Abbey got up, feeling even worse. Waves of nausea passed over her, and she craved sweet black tea again. After dressing, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. There she found Sybil and Sabu. Sybil was making toast while the cook fried eggs. Abbey stopped in her tracks and looked at them with her mouth hanging open. She couldn’t believe it. Not only were they working together, but they were chatting happily, as if their argument the previous day had not happened.
“Good morning,” Sybil said cheerfully when she looked up and saw Abbey. She noted with concern that she didn’t look well.
“Good morning,” Sabu mumbled. His expression was a mix of embarrassment and humility, which confused Abbey.
“Good morning,” she replied. “Did Jack come home?” She declined the milk that Sybil was about to put in her tea, instead adding two spoons of sugar. She also couldn’t face the thought of a fried egg, so only accepted a dry piece of toast for breakfast.
“Yes, quite late, though,” Sybil said. “Do you still feel ill, Abbey?”
“Yes, a little,” Abbey replied. She was glad that Jack hadn’t yet had time to speak to Sabu. That would give the cook more time to consider telling Jack the truth about why he didn’t like to cook when fasting and that he needed an income to support his family in India. She was sure Jack would understand.
Just then, Jack entered the kitchen, closely followed by Clementine and Ralph.
“Good morning,” he said wearily. He barely noticed that Sybil and Sabu were working side by side in the kitchen.
“Good morning, everyone,” Clementine said cheerfully.
Ralph looked much healthier and said he was feeling better, which explained his daughter’s good mood.
“I want to talk to you this morning, Sabu,” Jack said to the cook in a stern voice.
Sabu didn’t reply. He dropped his head, concentrating on what he was doing.
“Sabu and I have had a little chat, and we’ve come to an agreement,” Sybil said to her son. She was very happy about it, but Jack didn’t notice.
Overnight, Sabu had thought about what Abbey said. He still couldn’t bring himself to tell Jack the truth about his family in India. But the idea of Abbey rearranging his kitchen finally persuaded him to swallow some of his pride and confide in Sybil about how hard it was to cook when fasting. Sybil understood—she knew what a ferocious appetite Sabu had, but she was especially moved that he’d shown a softer side and confided in her. She’d told him that she thought it would relieve some of her tedium if she did more in the kitchen, so she’d help out when he was fasting. This surprised Sabu, but it also pleased him. She also promised not to move any of his things.
Jack assumed that his mother was just defending the cook yet again, and this time he wasn’t having it. “It’s too late for that, Mother,” he said.
Sybil was about to argue with him when Elias knocked on the backdoor insistently and called to Jack in an urgent voice. Jack hurried to the door. Those in the kitchen fell silent, listening. They overheard Elias tell Jack that the rams had escaped from the paddock.
“What?” Jack said, alarmed.
“I’ve caught three of them with the help of Fred Roundtree and the dogs, but the others are missing,” Elias said. “We can’t find them anywhere on the property.”
“Have you caught Napoleon?”
“No,” Elias said. He wouldn’t have known which one Napoleon was, but Fred had told him that the prize ram was not one of those they’d caught.
“How could they get out?” Jack asked frantically. “That paddock is secure.”
“The gate was open when I went to give them their feed this morning,” Elias said.
“What? How can that be?” Jack cursed himself for not checking the rams the previous night when he had returned to Bungare
e. But it had been dark, and he’d been so tired that he could hardly stay upright in his saddle. He, Tom, William, Don Simpson, and Bill Bendon had been determined to finish digging the bore and assembling the pump before Jack went home, and it had taken hours. They’d sent William home well before dark so that he could be with Martha, in case she was still a bit nervous alone with the baby. Tom had suggested that Jack stay at his place when it got late, but he’d wanted to get home so that he could get started on his own chores first thing the next morning.
Everyone in the kitchen heard what Elias said, including Abbey, but she didn’t understand it. She’d shut the gate when she left. She was sure of it.
Jack went outside and spoke to Elias for a few minutes, planning how they would search for the missing rams. He then came back into the kitchen.
“I can’t stop for breakfast,” he said angrily. “I must go and search for the rams. They could have wandered miles in the dark, possibly out onto the road and onto someone else’s property. If the wrong person realises how valuable they are …” He didn’t want to think about it, let alone say it out loud.
“We overheard Elias say a gate was left open,” Clementine said. She felt slightly guilty, but it was done now, so she had to make sure the blame fell where she intended.
“That’s right, and that’s something I don’t understand,” Jack said angrily. It was an unspoken law on a property where there was livestock: You always shut a gate behind you.
Clementine looked at Abbey. “Didn’t you go for a walk last night, Abbey? Did you see anything unusual?”
Abbey looked at her blankly for a moment. “Yes, I went for a walk just before dark. I went down to the rams, but they were all there.”
“Was the gate closed, Abbey?” Jack asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand how it could have been open this morning,” he said, scratching his head.
“Could an Aboriginal tribesman have opened the gate with the intention of stealing a ram?” Sybil asked.
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