The Jade Widow

by Deborah O'Brien

  ‘You’re just mouthing the words of your hero, Henry Parkes,’ said Joseph.

  ‘I have a mind of my own, Joseph Miller. Unlike you!’

  ‘Now, now,’ said their father firmly, ‘this is a time for celebration, not childish arguments. I am proud that Lord Wolseley thinks so highly of our troops.’

  After a moment Eliza said, ‘You’re right, Papa. I’m sorry, Joseph.’ She wasn’t accustomed to offering apologies, but today, being such an important occasion, was the exception.

  ‘Apology accepted,’ he replied. ‘Can you imagine the celebrations when they finally land in Sydney? It will be bigger than the Embarkation.’

  ‘Does Amy know yet?’ Eliza asked.

  ‘Everyone in Millbrooke knows. As soon as the newspapers were unloaded from the train, someone raced to the church and began ringing the bells. It is a wonder you couldn’t hear them right up here.’

  ‘Well, Charlie and James will be glad to have their uncle back,’ said Eliza. ‘They talk of nothing else. Charlie even asked me if the Queen is going to give Daniel a medal.’

  Their father laughed. ‘I imagine there will be medals for all of them.’

  That night they held a celebration supper at Millerbrooke House. The entire family was invited, including Nancy.

  ‘My dear,’ said Charlotte, addressing Nancy, ‘now that Daniel is coming home, you must move here to Millerbrooke in preparation for your wedding day. And we should also consult Mr Brownlow about suitable dates.’

  ‘Won’t the date depend on when Daniel can take leave?’ asked John. ‘Besides, you will need to allow three weeks for the banns to be read.’

  ‘Of course, but it’s best to be prepared.’

  ‘What about my job, Mrs Miller?’ Nancy asked.

  ‘You can use my sewing room. It has plenty of light and a view of the garden. Much nicer than that dimly lit workroom above Miss Travers’, don’t you agree, Eliza?’

  Eliza nodded her assent. Whenever her mother was in full flight, there was no stopping her.

  ‘Eliza and Amy will be your bridesmaids, of course,’ Charlotte continued, inclining her head towards Nancy. ‘What colour should we have for the dresses? Considering that it will be wintertime, a light hue would mitigate against the bleak weather. What do you think, Amy?’

  ‘I have some lovely new silks at the emporium if you wish to take a look.’

  ‘Why don’t we do that tomorrow, Nancy?’ said Charlotte. ‘Perhaps Martin could give us a lift to town in the morning.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Martin. ‘It would be my pleasure.’

  Eliza caught Martin’s eye and the two of them exchanged a brief smile. As she listened to the conversation, Eliza wondered what a stranger, having supper at the Millers’ for the very first time, might make of it. Would he or she assume Nancy was Daniel’s long-time sweetheart and that the wedding had been the subject of frequent correspondence between the two of them? The truth was that Daniel knew nothing about the wedding. The letter from his father would still be crossing the Indian Ocean, if it had even reached Perth by now. In the meantime Daniel was on his way back to Sydney. What a surprise he was about to receive when they met him at Circular Quay. The Miller family, plus Nancy, the mother-to-be. Would Daniel deny the baby was his? Eliza hoped not. He might be a rascal, but surely he wasn’t a complete bounder.

  After dinner Nancy took Eliza aside. ‘You and your family have been so kind to me, Eliza. But when I am lying in bed at night I start to wonder whether Daniel will really want to marry me.’ She blinked tears from her eyes. ‘Just because I adore him doesn’t mean that he feels the same way.’

  ‘Of course he does,’ said Eliza, instantly shocked at the lie which had just escaped from her lips. Why couldn’t she tell this sweet, earnest girl the truth? That Daniel’s own sister had no idea how he was going to react.

  Charlotte was marking off the days on a calendar and making wedding plans. Meanwhile, Millbrooke was preparing to welcome home its returning hero. Already windows were festooned with bunting, and patriotic banners adorned storefronts, the emporium among them. Amy and Charlie had painted ‘Captain Daniel Miller, Millbrooke’s Invincible Hero’ onto a roll of calico and hung it between the verandah posts.

  The circumstances of the departure from the Soudan had now become clear, thanks to the newspapers. If one was to read between the lines, it hadn’t been a victory. The rebels were still roaming the countryside, and Khartoum was firmly under their rule. The Imperial Cabinet had simply taken a political decision to cancel the campaign and withdraw the troops, save for a small garrison left behind in Suakin for appearance’s sake. So what had been the point? Eliza asked herself. The only blessing was that Daniel and his NSW cohort had survived their brief role in the conflict.

  Meanwhile Eliza had booked her passage to London on the Orient Line – seventy pounds first class – departing at the end of June. It would give her two weeks with her brother and still allow enough time to be back in Paris for the start of the academic year. But already she was having second thoughts. And not just because Daniel was coming home. She really wasn’t sure how she felt about him. Some days she was so angry she could throttle him. Lucky for Daniel that he was safely ensconced on the HMT Arab. There were other things too, which were causing her to waver. The first was the baby due in November. She felt an obligation to be there for Nancy when she had her child.

  And finally there was a certain Martin Burns. Not that she would admit that to anyone. All the same, she had come to rely on him, which both pleased and worried her. She had never wanted to be dependent on anyone, either for physical or emotional support, and certainly not a man. If you became emotionally involved in that way, you could easily lose your sense of purpose and vocation. Very soon you would find yourself dithering about the colour of wedding gowns and making vows about obedience and who knows what else. Rose Scott had once written to her that life was too short to be tied to a man. Eliza wondered if Rose was right.

  On Thursday 18th June, the entire Miller family, including Amy, Charlie and the newest member, Nancy, were up early, readying themselves for their train trip to Sydney. The next day they would be meeting HMT Arab on its arrival at Circular Quay. Tonight they would be staying in Newtown where Amy’s aunt had offered them the use of her house while they were in the city. Eliza had just placed her Gladstone bag in the hallway when there was a knock at the door. Matilda went to answer it. As Eliza caught sight of the postmaster, her legs turned to jelly.

  ‘Has something happened to Daniel?’ she asked hoarsely.

  ‘I don’t think so, miss,’ said the postmaster, producing a telegram. ‘But I felt I should deliver this in person.’

  HMT Arab to be diverted to Quarantine Station tomorrow. Entire contingent to be detained there until 23rd June when Welcome Home Parade will take place. Details to follow.

  Hon W. B. Dalley

  Acting Premier

  ‘What does that mean?’ Eliza asked anxiously.

  Martin appeared in the hallway and read the telegram.

  ‘It is a precaution. There were cases of illness among the contingent during the campaign. Since it is a matter of public health, the authorities aren’t taking any chances.’

  ‘You don’t think Daniel is sick, do you?’

  ‘It’s unlikely. I suspect they’re simply being prudent, but just to be sure, I shall send a telegram to my father. He has a colleague at the Board of Health. They are responsible for administering the Quarantine Station.’

  ‘Thank you, Martin. I know Papa would appreciate that. Poor Mama. She’s upstairs packing, in the belief that she will be reunited with her son some time tomorrow.’

  ‘It’s only a few more days, Eliza,’ said Martin, giving her hand a quick squeeze she hoped would escape the notice of the postmaster. ‘The important thing is that they will be back on Australian soil very soon.’

  ‘We’ll have to let Amy know, and Aunt Molly too,’ said Eliza, realising the implications of the ne
ws. ‘I don’t suppose we will be taking today’s train.’

  ‘I can let Mrs Chen know,’ said the postmaster. ‘And with your permission I can also send a telegram to her aunt in Sydney. You need only give me the wording.’

  ‘Thank you. You are very kind.’ Then she remembered Nancy, upstairs in Charles’s old bedroom, patiently curling her damp hair with rags. Admittedly it would only be five more days, but for the nineteen-year-old girl awaiting the return of her unborn baby’s father, that would be five days too many.

  The next afternoon there was a telegram from Martin’s father, who had been able to glean some information about the health of the contingent. On the return trip twelve patients, suffering from typhoid, had been left at a hospital in Colombo in the care of Surgeon Proudfoot. Four had since succumbed to the fever, including the contingent’s veterinary surgeon, Mr Willows. Captain Daniel Miller, however, was still safely on board HMT Arab as it headed up the coast to Sydney. It was the best news the Miller family could have received. Even Eliza wept when she read the telegram.

  ‘I am so relieved,’ she said through her tears. Then she gave a little laugh. ‘At least we are already packed for our train trip to Sydney next week.’

  ‘I can’t wait to see the parade,’ said James, who had appeared from outside. ‘I missed the last one.’

  ‘We are all going this time,’ said Joseph. ‘The servants will take care of things here.’

  ‘What will happen afterwards, Papa, to the contingent?’ asked Eliza.

  ‘Following the banquets and receptions I imagine it will be disbanded. After that, the volunteers will pick up their old lives, while the permanent soldiers will return to the barracks.’

  ‘Do you think Uncle Daniel will be given a medal, Grandpapa?’ asked James.

  ‘He will indeed. In fact, I have heard there are two.’

  ‘Two!’

  ‘The Queen’s Egyptian Medal and the Khedive of Egypt’s Bronze Star.’

  ‘What is a khedive?’ asked James.

  ‘He’s much the same as a viceroy,’ explained his grandfather.

  ‘Like the Viceroy of India?’ asked James.

  ‘Exactly,’ Eliza interjected. ‘And did you realise, James, that the Indian Viceroy isn’t Indian at all? He’s actually an English lord.’

  James looked confused.

  ‘It’s the way the Empire works,’ she continued. ‘You need only look as far as Government House in Sydney to find yet another foreign head of state imposed upon the local people because they are subjects of the British Empire.’

  Her father gave her a cautionary look, but she had finished her diatribe.

  On Saturday morning the postmaster was back. This time Eliza wasn’t in the least concerned when Matilda told her he was at the front door. Mr Dalley’s telegram had promised ‘details to follow’. For the past two days they had been anxiously awaiting those details, in particular the exact location of the meeting place where families would be reunited with their loved ones.

  Eliza rushed to the door. When she saw the solemn expression on the postmaster’s face, the smile she had been wearing to greet him disappeared.

  ‘I’m sorry to have to bring this news, Miss Eliza. Perhaps you should call your father.’

  Eliza’s entire body went cold. Please, dear Lord, no. Then someone seemed to draw a dark curtain across her eyes and she sank to the floor.

  PART II

  THE EMPORIUM HOTEL

  ‘“So I wasn’t dreaming, after all,” she said to herself,

  “unless – unless we’re all part of the same dream.”’

  LEWIS CARROLL

  Through the Looking-Glass, Chapter VIII

  XI

  ELIZA

  Monday 22nd June, 1885

  Although the Miller family had imagined themselves making a jubilant train journey to Sydney, it was not to be the celebration of flag-waving and bunting they had dreamed about. Instead, they found themselves in a nightmare nobody could have anticipated. The ladies were dressed in black and the gentlemen in sombre outfits, even Martin Burns, who had managed to produce a dark suit for the occasion. Meanwhile, Captain Daniel Miller lay in a sealed coffin at the Quarantine Station on North Head, awaiting his burial. Owing to the nature of his death, his family was prohibited from taking him home. Not only that, health regulations required the interment should take place as soon as possible. Already a day had been lost owing to the Sabbath.

  Eliza was exhausted from bouts of crying. As she blew her nose for the hundredth time, she wondered how there could possibly be any tears left. It was difficult to make sense of what had happened to her beautiful brother. He had always been so strong and healthy – the least likely person to fall ill. ‘Invincible’ was the word Amy had written on her banner. Ever since the news, John had been stoic, while Charlotte had wept uncontrollably. Now she was napping, following the draught of laudanum Martin had administered early that morning. Nancy was staring out the window, while John and Joseph were planning their eulogies. None of them even noticed when Eliza rose from her seat and slipped into the next compartment to talk to Amy and Martin. Amy, however, had fallen asleep. For his part, Martin was reading an article in the newspaper which bore the heading: ‘Tomorrow’s Homecoming Parade – All the Details’.

  ‘How is your mother?’ Martin asked in a whisper.

  ‘Dead to the world,’ she answered, before realising it was hardly an apt expression in the circumstances. She took a seat beside him.

  ‘I’m glad she’s sleeping,’ he said, folding up the newspaper and putting it in the magazine rack. ‘She needs some rest. This afternoon is going to be most gruelling for her.’

  ‘For all of us.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  As they pulled into one of the endless series of little towns between Granthurst and the city, the train jolted to a stop. Eliza waited for Amy to open her eyes, but she remained sound asleep in the seat opposite them.

  ‘Martin, may I ask you a question concerning Daniel’s illness?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Do you think he picked it up on the ship?’

  ‘No, I’m certain he caught it in the Soudan. Do you remember how he mentioned in his letter that some of the men were suffering from fever and dysentery? They’re classic symptoms. Daniel might have been walking around for days or even weeks with those germs lurking inside him and he wouldn’t have known. Even when the disease became active, he would have thought the headache and cough were signs he was coming down with the flu. And if he had suffered stomach pain or a bleeding nose, he would have thought he was debilitated from the heat of the desert.’

  ‘You seem well versed in the subject.’

  ‘I saw dozens of cases in London.’

  ‘Would Daniel have suffered much?’

  ‘Do you want me to be honest with you?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.’

  ‘The second and third stages are never good, what with the dysentery and dehydration, the fever and delirium. If the patient survives those things, the fever starts to subside.’

  ‘Does that mean the patient is likely to recover?’

  ‘It’s possible, but usually it’s a sign that the end is near.’

  ‘Of all those hundreds of men, why did it strike down only a few? And why did one of them have to be Daniel?’

  ‘I’m sure Queen Victoria must have asked the same question when Prince Albert died of typhoid fever.’

  For a long time Eliza was silent, staring out the window at the brown fields. Finally she said, ‘I feel so guilty, Martin.’

  ‘It’s not your fault.’

  ‘No, I don’t mean about the typhoid. It is just that I’ve been so angry with Daniel. Ever since I found out about Nancy and the baby.’ She lowered her voice so that it was barely audible. ‘In fact, I’ve spent the last couple of months hating him. I can never forgive myself for that.’

  For a few seconds she rested her head against his shoulder, until the con
ductor appeared at the doorway to check their tickets and she quickly sat upright.

  When the conductor moved on, Martin took her hand in his. ‘Daniel was your hero and you placed him on a pedestal. Then he did something that made you question everything you believed about him. But you didn’t stop loving him, did you?’

  She reflected for a while before saying, ‘Do you remember when Papa wrote to Daniel about the baby? I considered sending a letter myself, saying I was ashamed of him for taking advantage of a young girl who was infatuated with him.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘No. But I stopped writing altogether.’

  ‘Daniel wouldn’t have known that. Because of the time lag, he would have continued to receive the letters you wrote back in March and April.’

  Eliza considered for a moment. ‘You’re right, of course. But I feel guilty anyway.’ Absently she looked out the window where a flock of dusty sheep was huddled around the banks of a half-empty dam. After a while she said, ‘Do you think Daniel ever received Papa’s letter about the baby?’

  ‘I doubt it. But we’ll find out soon enough.’

  Eliza gave him a puzzled look.

  ‘When the army returns Daniel’s belongings to the family,’ he explained.

  She hadn’t even thought about that. Imagine her poor mother having to go through her son’s kit bag. It would be too much to bear. As she fought back the tears, Eliza felt Martin grip her hand more tightly as though he were trying to lend her some of his own strength. In the seat opposite them, Amy was still dozing, her head leaning against the upholstered side cushion, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. Her complexion had always been pale, but today it had taken on a ghostly pallor.

  ‘Why don’t you try to get some sleep yourself?’ suggested Martin, still clasping her hand in his.

  She closed her eyes, but images of Daniel in his delirium were waiting for her in the darkness. She could see him covered in sweat, picking at his sheets, swotting imaginary creatures, and calling for his mother.