Where Rainbows End

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Where Rainbows End Page 8

by Annemarie Brear

‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Will your father be back by then?’

  ‘I should think so, yes.’

  ‘Pippa!’ Davy ran over to them. ‘There was a really big black spider in the tent. Mother killed it with your shoe.’

  ‘Goodness!’ She pretended to be shocked, but seeing large spiders was becoming commonplace.

  Davy glanced at the empty frying pan. ‘I’m hungry.’

  Grinning, she ruffled his hair. ‘Very well. Let me have a few moments to dress.’

  After breakfast, Pippa decided to make a vegetable garden. She paced the area out on the west slope of the rise. As she and Millie dug over the earth, the sun warmed their backs.

  Millie straightened and wiped the sweat off her forehead. ‘Why are you doing this, Pippa?’

  ‘What do you mean? We need a vegetable garden.’

  ‘Naturally, but why are you doing it? You are not a labourer.’

  The question surprised her. Pippa leant against her shovel, feeling the sting of blisters on her hands even through her gloves. ‘I guess I feel the need to play my part in making this stud.’

  ‘You can do that without getting your hands dirty. You are a lady.’

  She shrugged, unable to answer for a moment. ‘In England we had a grand house that my ancestors had rented from our distant Lindfield cousins for generations. We had money, respectability, beautiful possessions.’

  Pippa stared out over the valley, thinking of all the things they had lost. She had lost much more than material possessions; she had lost Grant. ‘My grandfather started losing our fortunes through bad investments. My father tried to stem the tide, but it was too great, and then he gave up trying, turned to gambling and lost everything. We became very poor. We had to leave our house and servants. For the last few years, we’ve had to live in rented rooms in strange towns as Father tried, unsuccessfully, to regain what he’d lost. I know what it is like to do without comforts. Our basic needs were met with the laundry being sent out and a daily came in to cook for us, but most times, Hilary and I had to help with domestic duties. It was humiliating. Many of our friends turned their backs on us. The invitations stopped coming …’

  ‘It must have been awful.’

  She nodded and dug the shovel into the earth and lifted a clod with more force than before. ‘I never want to feel that way again. The loss, the devastation of leaving behind everything that had been ours hasn’t left me. I doubt it ever will.’

  ‘That is understandable.’

  ‘Howard Lindfield loaned Father money to start anew.’

  Millie bent and pulled grass clumps out of the turned soil. ‘So you used it to come out here?’

  ‘Father had the notion to come to the colonies and make another fortune. I encouraged him.’ She paused and watched a worm wriggle into the disturbed earth. ‘I couldn’t abide staying there, suffering the whispers and pity of visitors who came to see how dire our situation was.’

  Millie closed the space between them and laid a hand on Pippa’s shoulder. ‘There will be other ways for you to make this place successful. You don’t have to work like a skivvy.’

  Pippa sighed. ‘Yes, I do, for then I will know it has been done. I need the control. Never again will I leave my future to another to manage.’

  ‘But that is our lot as women.’

  ‘It’s not for me.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘My father has told me all my life that I should have been a boy because of my waywardness, but I can’t help it. Hilary delights people with her piano playing, her singing, her beautiful embroidering and gracious poise. Yet I have none of those skills, except for painting, but I can ride, shoot, and discuss world events better than most men. It is who I am and I cannot change that.’

  She looked down at the row of turned soil. ‘If Mother or Hilary wanted a vegetable garden, they would have rightly asked Robson to do it or dragged one of the men away from their work to do it. Whereas I, well, I simply take a shovel and make one.’

  ‘Don’t be ashamed of your uniqueness.’

  ‘I’m not.’ Pippa grinned. ‘I have my family to do that for me.’

  Millie continued digging. ‘The wildness of this country forces most women to get their hands dirty, whether they are high or low born.’

  ‘Yes, and I’ll do my share. I worry that unless I control everything this valley will fail. I’ll work till I bleed to keep that from happening.’

  ‘Mother, Mother!’ Davy waved from down by the creek. ‘Someone is coming!’

  Pippa shielded her eyes from the harsh sun and looked toward the track leading down to the valley floor. A wagon trundled towards them, but the distance made it hard to recognise the owner. She dropped her shovel. ‘Come, let us wash before they arrive.’

  She and Millie hurried down the slope to the camp and within minutes had washed their faces and hands. Pippa untied her grubby apron and threw it onto the small stump used as a seat by the fire. She tidied her hair as best she could, but was conscious of sweat-dampened tendrils sticking to her neck and cheeks.

  The wagon rumbled closer and she could pick out male occupants.

  ‘Who are they?’ Davy came to stand beside her.

  ‘We shall soon see, little man.’ She counted six men in the wagon. ‘Run and get Robson, darling. Tell him the carpenter has arrived.’ She tapped his shoulder and he rushed off.

  The wagon driver halted his horse a few yards from the campsite and the five men in the back jumped down. The driver took his time to climb from his seat and walk over to her. He was of small stature, with bandy legs, which made him walk with a rolling action. He swept off his dusty hat, revealing a balding head, and bowed stiffly. ‘Good day to yer, miss.’

  Pippa inclined her head. ‘How do you do?’

  ‘Grand, thank yer. I’m here ter see Mr Noble or Robson. I’m Jim O’Reilly, builder.’

  ‘I am Miss Noble. My father has yet to return from Sydney.’ She glanced over her shoulder as Robson crossed the creek.

  Jim spun his hat in his hands and gazed about him. His weather-beaten face aged him before his time. ‘A fine situation you have here, Miss Noble.’

  Before she could reply, Robson joined them and shook hands with the builder. ‘Good to see you, Jim.’

  ‘Got yerself a fine position here have yer, lad?’ Jim’s face creased into a grin. ‘Better than the old Foggity place, I’ll bet.’

  Robson chuckled. ‘Indeed.’

  Jim looked about. ‘So, where’s the timber, man?’

  ‘It’s not yet turned up. It’s as late as you.’

  Pippa stepped forward. ‘What timber, Robson?’

  ‘For the house, miss.’

  Pippa raised her eyebrow. ‘Father has bought timber?’

  ‘Of course, miss, from the mill.’

  ‘But why?’ She flung her arms out wide. ‘We are surrounded by trees. We have them in abundance. There is no need to buy it.’

  Jim cleared his throat. ‘The trees haven’t been cut, stripped, and sawn, Miss Noble.’

  Frustration mounted in her. ‘It simply needs to be done. We have a sawpit. You are a carpenter, surely you and your team can do that?’

  Jim shifted his weight from foot to foot. ‘Me and my men aren’t ruddy lumberjacks, miss, excusing the language.’ He twisted about and gestured to the men, who quickly jumped back into the wagon.

  Robson swore under his breath, but Pippa heard him. His face hardened. ‘Now come on, Jim. We can work this out. The building of the house will keep you in work for many months.’

  ‘I ain’t cutting down no trees, laddo!’

  Pippa clenched her hands, fighting back her anger. ‘You will be paid extra for your labours.’

  ‘Miss Noble, I don’t mean any disrespect, but what you’re asking is impossible.’

  ‘Why is it? If you need more men, Robson will hire more and bring them in. I need you to start the house immediately. We already have men here, and once they’ve finished the stable buildings and a barn they can help yo
u.’

  Jim slammed his hat against his thigh. ‘This is a big undertaking—’

  ‘Are you not up to the task?’

  His face grew red. ‘I can do anything I put my mind to! But I work with timber ready to use, miss. I don’t go into the bush and find it!’

  Robson stepped forward. ‘Miss Noble, your father has already ordered and paid for the timber. We might as well use it when it comes and let Jim work his magic of making a fine home.’

  She clenched her jaw in frustration. It was such a waste of money when they had plenty of trees. But she had lost the argument, so she pasted on a stiff smile and bowed her head graciously. ‘Very well, Robson. If you think it is the right thing to do, I’ll agree.’ Her tone implied that this would be the first and last time she would allow such a thing to happen.

  Jim thrust his hat back on his head. ‘When will your father return, Miss Noble? I’m not used to taking orders from a woman.’

  She raised her chin to glare down at the little man. ‘If you wish to work in this district again, Mr O’Reilly, then you’ll take orders from me or find yourself begging for your bread on the side of the road!’

  O’Reilly grew red in the face, his eyes popping nearly from his head. ‘Threaten me, will you, miss!’

  Robson stepped between them, his hand on Jim’s shoulder. ‘Steady now, Jim. Miss Noble didn’t mean to offend.’ He turned to her, his eyes imploring. ‘Did you, Miss Noble? And your orders will come from me, Jim. I’m Mr Noble’s overseer and in charge.’

  O’Reilly hooked his thumbs into his moleskin pockets. ‘I’ll not have some woman interrupting my work, Robson, and you know it.’

  ‘Aye, I do, Jim. All will be well, trust me.’

  ‘Right, we’ll set up camp, then.’ Like a rooster with his feathers ruffled, Jim gave himself a shake and let out a calming breath.

  Pippa inclined her head regally. ‘Excellent. Your men can camp on the far side of the slope. I hope your stay here is comfortable.’ She turned to Robson. ‘Send Peter or Colin to the mill immediately, or better still, go yourself. I want our timber here by tomorrow or the order will be cancelled and I’ll request my money back.’ She walked away with her head high and hoped her gamble paid off. Timber or no timber, she wouldn’t be thought of as a pushover. Jim grumbled to Robson, but she couldn’t make out his words. Oh, well, if they left now, there wasn’t a lot she could do. Her mother would have to live in a tent longer than she thought she would.

  Millie and Davy followed her into the tent. Millie hid her smile behind her hand. ‘Oh, Pippa. I thought the old Irishman was going to have a heart seizure. Your father will be furious that you’ve offered them more money to cut down trees. Thankfully they declined.’

  Pippa gave an undignified sniff. ‘He’ll not be as furious as I when he does return.’ She flopped onto the cot. ‘I cannot believe he ordered timber when we have it here in the valley. Why buy something we already own? He continues to throw good money after bad. This is what I’m always frightened of, Father being foolish.’

  ‘But think of the time saved. Cutting and sawing your own timber will prolong the building of the house.’

  Pippa sighed and rubbed her forehead. ‘An elegant house will take a long time to build anyway, and drain our resources if we aren’t vigilant. However, it has to be done, for Mother will not settle for anything less. She wanted a stone house and nothing less. Can you imagine the cost of building with stone?’

  Millie sat down beside her. ‘It seems so extravagant to start building a stone house, taking into account your financial situation.’

  ‘Agreed. Which is why Mother and I argue. Still, even a timber house will be expensive. Mother won’t live in a simple two-roomed hut and Father, of course, gives in to her. We must advertise Noble Blaze straight away. He is the only thing we have to earn us a regular income. If it had been left up to me, we’d all have lived in a tent for years, but my parents won’t consider it. They insist on setting the high standards that they lost back home, but this venture will fail if we do not act in a sensible manner.’

  ‘You mentioned sheep before in Berrima, when are they to arrive?’

  ‘Who knows? Everything happens at a snail’s pace in this country.’ Pippa huffed and swatted at an annoying fly near her face.

  ‘You are tired, my dear, and have too much to think about.’ Millie rose. ‘Lie down for an hour.’ She paused as the noise of a wagon rumbled away from the camp.

  Pippa groaned. ‘There goes the builder. He’s changed his mind.’

  ‘Shush now, sleep for a while. It’s too hot to worry about anything.’ Millie pushed her to the cot. ‘Davy, come outside and let Pippa rest.’

  Pippa sighed and closed her eyes. The heat sapped her strength and the stress of building the stud tired her further. Frustration and anger still lingered. How could her father order from the mill when they had so many other things to buy? She understood his need to satisfy Mother’s demands, but a beautiful house wouldn’t help them if they had no farm to support it. If only I had money …

  When Pippa woke, her head rang with noise. For a moment she wondered if the hounds of hell were at the tent flap. She scrambled out of the cot in a tangle of skirts and dashed outside only to jerk to a stop.

  On the other side of the creek, a flock of sheep bleated as two barking dogs rounded them up. Through the floating dust cloud, she made out Robson talking to a man holding a large stick. The shepherd.

  The clang of iron on iron made her spin around, and there on the far side of the rise Jim O’Reilly yelled at his men as they erected tents and banged stakes into the ground. He stayed. Beside the stables stood the skeleton frame of the storage hut, and Barney, high on a ladder, passed timber to Colin, who crouched on the roof joists.

  ‘There you are, sleepyhead.’ Millie and Davy laughed, stepping around the tent. Both were filthy dirty.

  ‘The sheep are here and Jim O’Reilly stayed.’ Pippa blinked to make sure she saw it all correctly.

  ‘Yes. The shepherd came down the valley not ten minutes ago, and Mr O’Reilly might grumble, but knows he’s onto a good thing here.’ Millie collected a bucket and then ducked into the tent and brought out soap and towels. ‘Davy and I are going to wash before I start dinner.’

  ‘What have you been doing?’

  Millie grinned and waved behind her. ‘Go and have a look.’

  Pippa lifted her skirts and walked up behind the tent towards the slope. As she got closer, her throat tightened. A vegetable garden, about fifteen feet by six feet, lay neatly turned over and trenched. Tears pricked her eyes. ‘Oh, Millie …’

  Later, as the sun set behind the ranges, Pippa knelt by the creek and cleaned her face, making sure the soapy water did not escape the shallow washbowl and contaminate the creek. It was a perfect evening. Golden light filled the valley except where shadows darkened the hollows. She drew in a deep breath and gazed out over her home.

  The shepherd had moved the flock to the end of the valley and into the edges of the timbered slopes. The land on the other side of their boundary was Crown land and Robson said they should use it until either someone bought it or a government official found out. She agreed with him completely. Why use their own grass when the sheep could feed on Crown land? They wouldn’t be the first to do this, and if it saved her money, then the happier she would be.

  The snap of a broken twig made her look around. Robson stood some feet away. ‘I don’t mean to disturb you, Miss Noble. I just wanted a word before I turned in for the night.’

  She smiled up at him. ‘Yes, of course. What is it?’

  ‘I went to the mill and the timber will be delivered tomorrow. In the morning, Jim and his team will start on creating the foundations of the house. I gave him the plans and he’s already marked out the dimensions.’

  ‘Thank you, Robson. I am grateful.’

  ‘Peter and I have felled many trees in the last few days, and once we’ve spent some time in the sawpit cutting the timber
into lengths, it won’t take long, perhaps ten or twelve days, to erect the barn. I think it should be of a good size to hold feed and tools. There isn’t any point in making a small one only to find we have to build another one in six months’ time.’

  ‘I agree.’

  He turned to go, but hesitated a moment more. ‘Is there anything you need before the men turn in?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘Well, good night, then, Miss Noble.’ He put his forefinger to the brim of his wide hat.

  ‘Sleep well, Robson.’ She looked past him as Davy wandered towards her from the tent.

  ‘Are you finished, Pip?’ Davy sat down beside her and dipped his hand into the creek.

  ‘Yes, poppet.’

  ‘Can you tell me a bedtime story?’

  ‘Of course.’

  He leant against her. ‘Mother was crying. I think she hurt her finger.’

  ‘Hurt her finger? How?’ Pippa ruffled his hair, enjoying the complete trust and friendship she received from this dear boy. She gathered up her belongings and tipped the soapy water against the large gum tree.

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

  She turned and went back up to the campfire and at the same time Millie left the tent and came towards her. Pippa, seeing Millie’s red, swollen eyes, reached out and took her hand. ‘Davy said you hurt your finger?’

  Millie sniffed and looked away. ‘Oh, it’s nothing. Into bed now, Davy. I’ll come in to see you in a minute.’

  After Davy left them, Pippa leaned forward, knowing Millie hid the real reason for her tears. ‘Millie?’

  ‘I’m all right, Pippa, really.’ Millie waved her away. ‘I was just having a moment to myself and thinking about James.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’m sorry to pry.’ Pippa stepped back, ashamed that she had forgotten about the man. ‘You must miss him awfully.’

  Picking up a stick, Millie poked the fire’s embers. ‘No, you see, that’s why I was crying, because I’m a terrible woman. I haven’t been missing him as much as I should.’ Her chin trembled slightly. ‘He was a good man. Honest. Decent. And I did care for him, but he was away all the time and we hadn’t married for love … I married him to have security and not be alone.’

 

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