Over a cup of tea, which was served very well by Martha, and who was introduced to the visitor, they discussed plans. Mrs Summers was able to tell Miss Binks that her Society would be able to subsidize some of the cost of training the girls. Binksie gave no information about how the hostel was funded but only said that she would pass on that information on to her principals.
Binksie showed her visitor over the whole house and encouraged her to speak to Mrs Cook and the girls. She left with the assurance that Miss Binks would accept two or three girls at a time until all their fourteen beds were filled.
Three girls arrived the next day and life at the hostel changed considerably. The new girls seemed to be intruders to Martha and Josie, for they felt that this was their own home and were a little resentful of the changed conditions. But when they realised that the work was now shared life seemed a little rosier. They felt that they were the seniors and that they could tell the new girls what to do. Mrs Cook had to watch Martha at first for she was, for all her 12 years, inclined to "be a bit above herself", as she reported to Miss Binks.
However they all settled down and soon each girl was rostered to do daily tasks and one day of the week each was free of household duties and could spend that time studying or doing whatever she wished. Miss Binks had a variety of extras that the girls could be interested in, and when they had been there for a short time could work out what interested them most, be it sewing, millinery, specialized cookery and cake decoration, knitting, embroidery or any other handcrafts that would never have come their way in any other life they lived.
It was not long before more girls arrived from Mrs Summer's association and Miss Binks had to ask for more teaching staff. But Mrs Landon stepped in here for she had been spreading the word to her friends and because of this there was considerable interest among the ladies of society. Soon three of the women of her circle came to her with genuine offers of help with certain skills and Mrs Landon and Miss Binks was able to report to Ricky that the hostel was humming with activity. The women not only brought skills but they brought ideas and some of them very useful indeed. Soon the girls of the hostels were being trained, not only as maids and shop girls but nursery maids and other more skilled positions. Their handcrafts of embroidery, especially their white work, and their patchwork quilts, won great commendation and some of the girls were able to sell their pieces.
The boys hostel grew slower than the girl's but nevertheless it did grow and soon there were several men who came in to teach the lads and there were eventually ten who were there to train. They, too, learned various skills, but most wished to learn to be effective clerks and managers, buyers and salesmen. They had made a very good workshop in the yard at the back where most of the boys could learn carpentry and joinery, especially working on furniture restoring under the tutelage of Mr Brown, a rotund man with a great sense of humour.
The main house was furnished carefully and slowly by Ricky. He was particularly interested in the cedar furniture made by Andrew Lenehan, [1]which was made in the colony of local timber. Also Ricky had been able to acquire some lovely furniture which had been brought from England and had been battered on the voyage out. Under Mr Brown's guidance these pieces were being restored by the boys in the hostel and were either for use in the houses or for sale. The boys working on these projects being rewarded with some of the money these pieces brought when sold. It was a great incentive for them.
Ricky's house gave him a great deal of satisfaction. He was able to decorate it in a particularly lovely way using soft furnishings and furniture which he had never had in his young life as a street urchin or for that matter had even seen. He often wondered who had the furniture and other stuff that his mother had brought out on the ship and had been sold by the unscrupulous Curtins who had thrown him out of their boarding house. He often wondered, too, whether he would ever find one of the pieces and sub-consciously was ever looking for them, but knowing that it was doubtful that he would ever recognise them if he saw them.
However the main house was getting to the stage of pleasing its owner. Ricky had made a large room which faced south, (as Will assured him it should) into a studio for Will, with his bedroom beside it. Ricky's room was also on the first floor beside Will's. Tad had been given the top floor to do what he liked with, for Ricky had decided that three flights of stairs would be too much for Will. Tad was learning a little about how to and how not to furnish his rooms. He made some terrible mistakes and his colour sense was not all that good, according to Will. The colours he had chosen were too strong and before he had been in residence for long Tad was wishing he hadn't been so adventurous and hoped his fabrics would wear out quickly and then he could have newer and quieter ones, not the red and purple he had.
Ricky's business was growing at such a pace that he decided to make it into a private company with Tad and Will as shareholders. He had always given the boys an allowance. Tad somewhat reluctantly taking it and saving it, for he never did like spending money irresponsibly. But since meeting Amabel Landon Tad did all he could to work harder and save harder for although he had not told Ricky or Will, he had his heart invested in that young lady and knew that unless he had some substance behind him her parents would never allow her to come his way. At moments of sane thinking he didn't really think he had a chance anyway for knowing that he had no 'background' he didn't see that they would let their precious child go to a chancy fellow like him. But she was his goal and he would at least try to win her, but also try to be sensible at the same time. In his moments of madness he felt that she may be attracted to him, and her lovely shy smile made his heart do peculiar things, but he told himself not to hope.
Ricky on the other hand never seemed to have his heart involved in anything but business. Tad considered that he was growing quite dull and that he was only interested in making money. Ricky objected to this and knew that it was just his skill in knowing how to make that commodity, not his desire for it, that was the truth. There was no doubt about it, his store was thriving to such an extent that he would soon have to think of the new large store that he planned for the land that he had bought in Durham Street.
Ricky had no idea when he could start building, so thought deeply what he should do and set about having some plans drawn up. He didn't know whether he should build in stages or wait until he could build the whole. He would have to borrow to be able to build it all now and was loath to do that. So until the plans were drawn by the town’s architects for the whole thing he would bide his time.
Will was still painting with Patrick Thomas. He always told Ricky and Tad he disliked the man intensely, but seemed unable to break away from him as he knew he was a great teacher even though he was an unpleasant man. Ricky thought that Will was painting very well, and was interested to hear that Mr Landon thought so too. That gentleman told Ricky that he thought he would send Will to Paris when Ricky felt he was mature enough to be able to take the life there. This startled Ricky a great deal, and disturbed him too, enough to protest to John Landon and say that he really thought Will ought to stay home and be content here, and anyway he wasn't strong enough to fend for himself. John replied that Ricky hadn't noticed that Will was maturing fast and would soon be a grown man. "You can't keep him tied to your apron strings forever, Ricky."
"I don't intend to, sir. Anyway, I don't," he said indignantly.
"I think you do a bit," said Landon jokingly. "A good thing too, if you ask me. Goodness knows where he would have ended up if you hadn't. He knows it, too."
"He's a good lad. But he's awfully one-track-minded, Mr Landon. I don't think he ever thinks of anything but painting."
"You would be surprised. He looks as though he is in a dream half the time, but deep down he knows what is going on around him. He is very fond of you, Ricky, and would do anything for you."
"He shouldn't feel that way. But I am very fond of him, too."
"He considers that it was because of you that he has his painting. He wonders if he ever
would have found it if it hadn't been for you."
"I am sure it would have found an outlet somehow, don't you think Mr Landon? It is strange when you think of it, just how our lives could have taken different turns. I can look back and say ...if this had happened, or if that hadn't happened. What then?" mused Ricky.
"Yes, son," said John Landon, looking closely at this young man who meant so much to him, "I look at you and think, what would have happened to my girl if you hadn't been there when she needed you most."
Ricky just managed to look rather sheepish at this, for he rarely thought of his episode with Amabel, and was usually startled when the older man reminded of it. Amabel always gave him a shy smile as though she shared something secret and special with him, but Ricky just looked to her as he would his own sister and she to him.
Will had acquired a sort of pupil. Young Phil Yates spent as much time as he was allowed with Will. Phil attended school now that they were settled in their new home. He told Will that he was crowded out with females and he disliked it intensely. He had asked his mother if he could go and live in the boys' hostel but, of course, she was adamant that he should not. But he hoped when he was older she would let him do so. In the meantime he spent as much time as he could curled up in the corner of Will's new studio watching that young man paint, and sketch and model. Phil was a quiet boy who tried not to intrude more that he need. He often sat for hours watching Will. Will sometimes forgetting he was there. But when Will began to model with clay he found that Phil could hardly keep away.
Will did not do much modeling, but sometimes did it to roughly get an idea where shadows would fall in a painting he was doing. Patrick Thomas did some sculpture and so Will had picked up the rudiments of the art, not having a real keenness for it but finding it an interesting medium for what he wanted. But young Phil could hardly keep his fingers off the clay that Will had brought home from the studio. It was kept in a wooden tub with a damp cloth over it and at times Will was surprised to find some of the pieces that Phil had used and replaced in the tub. He was sorry that some of the little boy's efforts were destroyed for he could see that Phil had an eye for it. He tried to encourage him to model while Will was there but the little chap was reluctant and so Will just had to be content to know that Phil was using the material at all. He was surprised that a ten-year-old could stay so still, watching, watching all the time.
But one day Will came home to find Phil hard at work, the boy so intent that he was hardly conscious of the older one being there. Will, understanding the mood, just lightly picked his way across the studio behind Phil and sat down with a book. It was quite a long while after this that the boy looked up and smiled.
"Hello, Will. Are you home?" he asked.
"Yes," said Will. "Can I look?"
"I suppose so. But only if you really want to," he answered hesitatingly.
"Only if you really want me to, Phil. It's your business and it is up to you."
"All right," said Phil and stood up, leaving his clay on the board while he washed his hands at Will's sink.
Will went over to the table and looked down at the boy's model. There, on the board, was a lovely little cat, lying on her side feeding four fat little kittens. All very beautifully executed. This perfect little tabby mother cat, complete with stripes, had lifted her head and was looking up, just as though she was watching her creator. The satisfied look that a mother cat has when feeding her babies was quite evident. You could almost hear her purr. Will stood looking at this wonder, he was so still he forgot Phil standing beside him until he spoke.
"It's Nittens, Will. I wanted to make her stand but I couldn't. I don't know how to make her legs keep her up. So I made her lying down." He looked up at his friend. "Is it all right, Will? Do you like it?"
"Yes, Phil, it's all right. And yes, I do like it."
"Good. I'm glad. I tried before, you know, but I couldn't do it right. But today I felt I could."
"Yes, you did, old chap. We must keep it. I'll get a wire and we will lift it up off the table and put her on another board to dry. We'll cover it with damp cloths and let her dry slowly. All right?"
"Yes, all right. Do you mind if I do keep it, Will? Because I rather like it you know." Phil looked up anxiously.
"Help me put it away in the cupboard and we'll think what we should do with it. I think we should have it baked so you can keep it always. What do you think, Phil? An artist should always keep his first major work, you know."
Phil's small chest expanded with pride. "Yes, I must keep my first major work, mustn't I, Will? Then I can do lots of other things, can't I?" he added.
"I can see that you will do lots and lots in the future, my lad. We'll have to see about you taking lessons someday."
"You could teach me, Will."
"No, lad, I can only teach you to draw a little but I fancy you are more interested in modeling and such like. What are you going to be, I wonder? A mason like your father?"
"My mother tells me he wanted to be a sculptor, that's carving things, you know, but he had to be a mason. I'd like to be a sculptor, too. Do you think I could be, Will?"
"You never know Phil. I didn't know I wanted to paint until I saw it done."
"If I could carve then I could have made Nittens stand up, couldn't I Will?" asked the small boy wistfully. Will looked down and the serious face and agreed. Phil then asked, "How could I carve her legs in stone, Will? Would they break easily?"
"I've wondered about that sort of thing myself, and it must be a bit tricky, but I daresay you could learn how."
"There's something else I would like to do, Will. If I tell you you won't laugh, will you?"
"You know I won't. What is it?"
Phil sat down and thought for a minute and then cocked an eye up and looked bravely at Will. "I want to make a boy," he said.
"You mean a statue?"
"Yes," Phil said stolidly, "I do."
"Who's the statue to be of, Phil?"
"Henry," he said.
"Henry?" asked Will. "Who is Henry?"
"Henry was at my school and he was nice. He died, Will. He was nice to look at, I liked looking at him. I would like to make a statue of Henry to give to his mother. I think she would like it. She could look at it and see Henry. Do you think she would like it? I remember what he looked like."
"You are an amazing fellow," said Will sitting down suddenly. "That's quite an ambition. I've never heard of anyone wanting to do that. Did you like Henry a lot, Phil? Was he a special friend?"
"No, I didn't know him much at all, but I liked looking at him. He was sort of put together right. Do you know what I mean?"
"You mean he was handsome?"
"Yes, " he said eagerly, "that's it. I was going to say he was pretty, but you can't say that about boys, can you? Yes, he was very handsome and I think it is a shame I can't look at him any more.'
Will tousled the boy's hair and said, "You know young man, you are quite someone to have round the place."
CHAPTER 11 Mr English
The boat drifted down the river quietly. The four soldiers watching the banks carefully. Two men were at the oars and one at the rudder, the officer at the bow crouching on the forward seat.
The sergeant, who was steering, said, "They can't have got this furr, sir."
Major Hinds looked around and softly said, "I think they could have, sergeant. They had a lighter boat, you know, and they were quite fit. If they had rowed hard they could still be ahead of us. We'll keep going. Put your backs into it men, and lets see what's around that bend."
The men dug the oars in and soon they were skimming down the waters of the Hawkesbury. It was a lovely spring day, a bit hot for rowing in heavy uniforms, and soon the men were sweating freely. They rounded the bend and the full vista of a long stretch of water lay before them. Not a sign of the boat they were seeking with the three deserters.
Major Hinds peered ahead and said, "They couldn't be that far ahead, sergeant. We must have missed them
, but I don't know how unless they were hiding in a patch of thick scrub. We'll turn back."
"Sir," said the sergeant, "I thought I saw something. Let's go on a bit and look at that bank over there."
"All right, sergeant, but its a long way back upstream, remember," Major Hinds said. A muffled groan came from the oarsmen. "Pull over there, men."
As they neared the western bank an aborigine appeared. He was a tall black man, carrying some spears and other weapons. He appeared to be alone and was waving wildly.
"Blacks, sir," came the yell from the sergeant, picking up his rifle.
"Put your arms down, sergeant," Major Hinds said.
"But he's got spears, sir."
"Yes, I see them. It's when I don't see them that I worry, sergeant. Pull in, men. We'll land and see what he wants."
They drifted towards the bank. "What do you mean, sir, when you say it's when you don't see them that worries you?" asked the sergeant.
"If they want to attack and not show their arms, sergeant, they often hold them with their toes and drag them through the grass so you cannot see them. They are usually safe when the arms are apparent." As the boat neared he landed, the black man making welcoming noises to him. "Stay here with the boat, men, and sergeant, come with me."
"Will I bring the gun, sir?" the sergeant asked anxiously.
"No, I am sure all is well."
The native gestured to a place not far from them and obviously wanted them to follow him, he turned and they found that he was leading them towards a patch of bush near some rocks. "White man," he said, "longa dere."
Major Hinds turned to his soldier, "You'd better bring the gun it may be one of those we are after."
The black man must have understood what he meant for he said, "No, no. Sick." He took them through the bushes and they were surprised to find a man lying on some leaves near a shallow cave. He was a sorry sight, very bedraggled, with long dirty hair and beard. What was left of his clothes were just pitiful rags. The man was very ill indeed and was certainly not one of the men the soldiers were seeking. He looked as though he had been in a bad way for some time.
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