Rose swung her arm over as if she was bowling a spinner to Aunt Alice, and skipped inside, whistling cheerily to herself.
‘Rose!’ Mother called. ‘Stop that at once. Ladies do not whistle!’
‘Yes, Mother.’ Rose ran up the stairs as fast as she could and burst into Aunt Alice’s bedroom, startling her aunt into dropping the pile of freshly laundered stockings she was carrying.
‘Sorry!’ Rose knelt and picked up the stockings, bundling them all together. As she handed the mess back to her aunt, she said, ‘But none of these are blue.’
Aunt Alice laughed, and sat on her bed to sort and match the stockings properly. ‘No, they’re all sensible black. Why?’
Rose blushed. ‘Mother said you were a … bluestocking. Is that a rude thing to say?’
‘Not really,’ Aunt Alice said. ‘Bluestockings are the kind of women who go to university and study, and read lots of interesting books.’
Rose’s eyes widened. ‘Did you go to university?
‘No, but I did attend a very good girls’ school in London. I was lucky – I learnt a lot there.’
‘Mother said women are no good at learning because their brains are too small.’
Aunt Alice spluttered. ‘Oh my goodness, Rose, things for you are worse than I could ever have imagined!’
Rose edged back towards the door, her face burning. She couldn’t bear Aunt Alice thinking she was stupid and babyish. But Aunt Alice leapt up and rushed towards Rose, enveloping her in a big hug.
‘I’m sorry, Rosie, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.’ She kissed Rose on the tip of her nose. ‘Will you forgive me?’
Rose was overwhelmed by the warmth of the hug and the feeling of loving arms around her. It took her a long moment to answer. ‘Of course.’
‘Good.’ Aunt Alice drew back and searched Rose’s face. ‘It is not your fault that your mother tells you such nonsense – after all, it’s what lots of people still believe. In fact, I think you are the kind of girl who would do very well at the University. What would you like to study?’
Rose’s eyes lit up. ‘Geography, and maybe history, and I want to know about insects and plants, and fossils too, and how things work. Like those new motor cars – have you seen them? Father is thinking of buying one. I’d love to try driving. But I’m not even allowed on a bicycle.’
‘That’s a wonderful list of subjects,’ Aunt Alice said. ‘As for the bicycle, you can always ride mine. Now, I’m going to give you something I’ve been saving for you.’ She reached into one of the trunks and pulled out a strangely shaped wooden carving. It had big eyes and a long tongue that curled out of its mouth. She handed it to Rose, who ran her fingers over the smooth wood.
‘It looks scary,’ Rose said, ‘but it feels lovely. What is it?’
‘It’s called a tiki, and it was carved for me by a Maori friend. It’s a symbol of knowledge and inner strength.’ She reached into the trunk again, and showed Rose a beautiful green spiral. ‘This is a koru, and it’s like a new fern uncurling. It can mean new beginnings. I thought it was perfect for me.’
‘You have a friend who is a Maori?’ Maori warriors were huge and carried spears and had tattoos – Rose had seen a drawing of one once. ‘Aren’t they … ferocious?’
‘They certainly used to be,’ Aunt Alice said. ‘But things are different in New Zealand now.’
Aunt Alice had seen and heard so many unusual and exciting things, and Rose wanted to know as much as possible. From downstairs came the clanging of the dinner bell. Rose jumped up. ‘Father is home! And I’m starving.’ It felt like days since the apple pie.
After Rose and Aunt Alice had washed their hands and tidied their hair, they went down to the dining room. Father was already seated at the head of the table, quizzing Edward about his schoolwork. ‘And what have they told you about the Boer War?’
Rose leaned in to listen. The Boer War was going on in South Africa, which was a long way from Mount Kilimanjaro – she’d looked it up on her world map. Father had told her that Boers were the people who had gone to South Africa from Holland, and now they were fighting against the British, who had settled there too. Rose loved hearing about Africa – even the name seemed full of adventure – but the war sounded frightening.
‘The stupid Boers just want all the gold for themselves,’ Edward said. ‘It belongs to Britain.’
Father’s bushy eyebrows rose up at Edward’s words. ‘Poppycock, boy!’ he shouted. ‘Who told you that?’
Edward’s face turned the colour of beets, and Rose and Aunt Alice hesitated in the doorway. ‘Er, it was, it was … Robert Quinlan.’
‘Is this Mr Quinlan a teacher?’ Father boomed.
‘N – no,’ Edward said. ‘He’s a pupil.’
Father’s eyebrows shot up again. ‘If you prefer to listen to the ill-informed rubbish of a schoolboy instead of your teachers, then perhaps you should be instructed at home again, by Miss Parson.’
Rose cringed at his gruff tone, but she was even more astonished to see Edward brighten, as if he would rather stay at home with Miss Parson! Could Edward hate his school that much?
Just then, Mother arrived behind them. ‘Sit down, Rose, for heaven’s sake!’ She swept past, ignoring Aunt Alice, who was receiving a hearty kiss from Father, and sat at the opposite end of the table. Immediately, she rang the small bell beside her plate.
Sally rushed in, carrying a tureen of steaming pea soup.
‘Where is Martha?’ Father said. ‘Has she been called?’
‘I’m here, Father.’ Martha glided into the dining room gracefully. She glanced at Mother’s stony face, then went over to kiss Aunt Alice. ‘It’s lovely to see you again.’
Aunt Alice also ignored Mother. ‘Are you still painting those beautiful watercolours, Martha?’
Martha nodded as she sat down. ‘And what are your plans, Aunt Alice?’
‘I believe I will look for a post as a governess,’ Aunt Alice replied, her eyes on her soup plate. ‘Or perhaps a position in a school. Or … I could start my own school.’
‘Hmph,’ Mother said. Her spoon clattered against her plate.
For a moment, Father stared down the long table, past the candelabra, then said, ‘You tried that in New Zealand. It failed. Word did get back here, you know.’
Aunt Alice smiled thinly, and Rose held her breath. Was an argument about to start? The pea soup stuck in her throat.
‘I have returned with excellent letters of recommendation,’ Aunt Alice said. ‘And the school failed due to the lies told by two of the mothers.’ Rose felt as if Aunt Alice was spearing Father with her eyes. ‘You know about people who block good ideas, Daniel. Just look at Mr Lyne in New South Wales, trying to undermine Federation. Sometimes one person is all it takes.’
There was a sudden charged silence, as if lightning had struck the dinner table. Mother had gone pale, her fingers gripping her soup spoon so hard that Rose thought it might bend. Everyone else bent over their bowls and scraped away noisily. Rose puzzled over Aunt Alice’s mention of Mr Lyne, who was in charge of New South Wales. Father said he was trying to influence people not to vote for Federation. Maybe those two mothers in New Zealand tried to turn everyone against Aunt Alice’s school. Everyone seemed to be talking about Federation these days, and Rose thought joining all the states into one big country sounded pretty sensible.
Once Mother left the table, Father seemed more relaxed and asked Aunt Alice lots of questions about New Zealand. Rose, Martha and Edward were all totally entranced by Aunt Alice’s stories. ‘We canoed all the way down the Wanganui River – so much easier than overland,’ she said. She’d even been mountain trekking and sailing.
Rose knew she’d love sailing and trekking up mountains. How could Aunt Alice bear to come back? Life here seemed so boring!
THAT night, Rose tossed and turned, and finally fell asleep, only to dream of being at a ball and strapped into a corset so huge and tight that she toppled right over and couldn’t brea
the. She woke, gasping and crying, and found Aunt Alice next to her bed, trying to soothe her.
‘Oh, thank goodness it wasn’t real!’ Rose described her dream and her new corset.
‘No wonder you’re having nightmares,’ Aunt Alice said. ‘A corset at your age? It’s ridiculous. They’re ridiculous at any age.’
‘Mother loves corsets,’ Rose said.
Aunt Alice shuddered. ‘No doubt Martha is wearing them, too.’
‘Hers is called the Bride’s Dream. Wearing it is supposed to help you find a husband.’
Aunt Alice just shook her head.
‘May I ask you a question?’ Rose said.
‘Of course, Rosie dear.’ Aunt Alice held Rose’s hands. ‘Ask away.’
Rose felt her chin trembling but she got the words out all the same. ‘Do you think I’m doomed? That I’ll have to be like Martha when I’m older?’
‘Good gracious, no! What makes you think that?’ Aunt Alice’s face creased with concern.
‘You said I was in a terrible state. And I do feel terrible. Mother is always scolding me, even though anyone can see I’ll never be as beautiful or ladylike as Martha.’ A tear trickled down Rose’s cheek, and Aunt Alice brushed it away.
‘Rose, if I made you feel bad, I am ever so sorry.’ She leaned over and gave Rose a hug. ‘I think you are a beautiful, intelligent, wonderful girl, and it pains me to think that your mother will condemn you to a life of new dresses and corsets and … learning from an addle-brain like Miss Parson! You should be at school with girls your own age.’
Rose knew in her heart that Aunt Alice was right, but she couldn’t for the life of her see how she could stand up to Mother and win. It would be like climbing Mount Everest.
She didn’t know how to answer Aunt Alice, so instead she slid down under her quilt and said, ‘Thank you for coming in and comforting me. I think I can sleep now.’
‘Oh. Jolly good, then.’ Aunt Alice stood and looked down at Rose for a few long moments. Eventually, she smiled and bent to kiss Rose goodnight. ‘We’ll talk more tomorrow.’
However, the next morning, Aunt Alice wasn’t at breakfast. Rose, puzzled, was marched off to the schoolroom by Miss Parson, where she spent the morning writing thank-you letters to her grandmother and aunt and uncle, and then embroidering her initials on three handkerchiefs. All the time, she thought longingly of Treasure Island hidden in Aunt Alice’s room, and plotted how to fetch it.
When Aunt Alice wasn’t there for lunch either, Rose had to ask Mother where she was.
‘Looking for a new governess position.’
‘Does that mean she’ll leave us?’ Rose said.
‘I should hope so,’ Mother snapped. ‘Now, after lunch Mrs Alcott, the dressmaker, is bringing your new dresses for a fitting.’
‘Oh.’ Maybe later she could read her book.
The afternoon was long and awful. Rose had to wear the corset, which dug into her stomach, and stand in one spot being pushed and pulled and having pins stuck into her.
She was tired by the time the family went into the sitting room after dinner, and curled up next to the fire. Sally brought Father a snifter of brandy. Aunt Alice was quiet, reading her book in the corner.
‘I believe you had morning tea with Mrs Jamieson, Alice,’ Father said. ‘And afternoon tea with Mrs Widbey-Farthing.’
‘I did,’ Aunt Alice said, her eyes on her book.
‘Both fine families,’ Father said. ‘A governess position with either should suit you admirably.’
‘It should.’
Rose wondered if she was the only person who heard the edge in Aunt Alice’s voice. Edward was focused totally on the newspaper, and Martha was busy choosing coloured threads for her embroidered sampler. But Mother’s mouth pursed as if she’d sucked on a lemon. ‘Beggars can’t be choosers, Alice!’
Aunt Alice’s head snapped up and the look in her eyes was enough to make Mother shift in her chair. ‘I am not a beggar.’
‘Of course not,’ Father said, trying to smooth things over. ‘You should only take a position where you will be entirely happy.’
Mother sniffed. ‘I would have thought a woman with a reputation and no chance of marriage might–’
Aunt Alice stood up so abruptly that her book flew across the carpet. Rose rushed to pick it up.
‘Daniel, I think I will read upstairs.’ Without another word, Aunt Alice rushed out of the room. Rose was sure she saw tears in her aunt’s eyes, and Rose’s heart thumped madly against her ribs. What was wrong? Surely Mother wasn’t going to force Aunt Alice to leave? She stared at her mother’s satisfied expression.
‘You will regret the day you invited her to stay, Daniel,’ Mother said. ‘Without asking me, I might add.’
‘I don’t need to ask you, Elizabeth, and I’ll thank you to remember it.’
A chilly silence fell over the room. Rose pretended to be interested in Martha’s sampler so she wouldn’t have to look at anyone. Mother was always bossy, and usually Father tolerated it with a joke or brushed it aside, but it seemed this time Mother had gone too far. Rose hated it when the family was in such an unhappy way. It hadn’t been like this for a long time, not since the Bust when Mother was so upset and angry about being poor. Rose had been very small, but she could just remember her parents shouting and then their freezing silences.
Since Father’s finances had improved and he’d bought this big house, Mother had been much happier, even though Father complained about the amount of money she spent. Now money was not a problem, but the arguments made Rose’s stomach churn. She tried to thread a needle for Martha but her fingers were trembling so much that she had to give up.
Edward asked to be excused, saying he had schoolwork to do, and handed Father The Argus newspaper. Martha joined Mother, exclaiming over pictures of new hats in her fashion magazine that had come all the way from London.
‘Come over here, Rose,’ Father said. ‘My eyes are tired tonight. Why don’t you read the news to me?’
Rose was glad of something interesting to do, since she still wasn’t able to read Treasure Island. She took the newspaper from Father and settled down beside him on the chaise under the gaslit chandelier. ‘What shall I read?’ she asked.
‘Whatever takes your fancy, my love,’ he said. ‘I’ve read the financial pages already.’
Rose focused straight away on the few pictures, especially the one of the motor car. She began to read aloud. ‘Mr Waldo Stutterfield announced today that he planned to import more motor cars from his factory in England, which has caused an outcry from those here who wish to see an Australian motor car being built. The Lewis Cycle and Motor Works in Adelaide is still working on their own motor car. The first Lewis machine is yet to come out of the Works, but early testing has proved entirely successful. Mr Lewis expects his first car to be on the road by Christmas.’
Father grunted and said, ‘But will it match up to the Talbots and Daimlers? That’s what I want to know.’
‘Are you planning to buy a motor car, Father?’ Rose jiggled in her seat. ‘Oh, please do. I would so love to drive one!’
‘Drive?’ Father laughed uproariously. ‘You’re a bit small to drive a motor car, I’m afraid.’
‘But when I’m older and bigger, I will.’
‘You will not.’ Mother’s voice cut across the room. ‘Ladies do not drive cars.’
Father’s moustache twitched and, for a moment, Rose thought he was going to disagree with Mother, but he turned to Rose instead and said, ‘If I buy one, you may ride in it. How about that?’
Rose opened her mouth, but she could feel Mother’s eyes boring into her, so she just nodded. When I’m grown up, she thought, I’ll have my own car and Mother won’t be asked to ride in it.
She scanned the paper again. There were people in London talking about Federation – it seemed the British Parliament had to approve it. Rose skipped over that – there was something much more interesting on the Boer War, and a map of the vast
plains in southern Africa. What if they were fighting the war and were attacked by … lions? Surely that might be possible? She began to read the article to Father. ‘Lord Robert enters Kroonstad. The Boers in full retreat.’
‘Rose, it’s time you went to bed,’ Mother said.
‘But the news is about our soldiers,’ she protested.
Mother used her most icy glare. ‘Ladies don’t need to know such matters.’
‘Why not? We live in the world, too.’
Mother’s mouth opened and closed, and a deep red flush filled her face. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and steely. ‘I will not have you speak to me in that tone, Rose. Miss Parson has obviously not been doing her job at all well.’
The mention of Miss Parson was the final straw for Rose. She jumped to her feet, ignoring Father’s restraining hand. ‘Miss Parson is only good at snooping in my room and making me mend stupid stockings. Father seems to realise I have a brain in my head – why can’t you?’
‘Because in young ladies, manners will trump brains every time!’ Mother snapped.
‘Stop trying to turn me into Martha,’ Rose said. ‘I could think of nothing worse than spending my life hunting for a husband.’
‘That’s enough, Rose! How dare you talk about your sister in that way.’ Mother stood, looming over Rose. ‘Go to bed this minute, or else.’
‘Oh, Martha, I didn’t mean …’ But Martha just smiled sympathetically at Rose and shook her head slightly and, relieved, Rose rushed out of the sitting room and up the stairs.
Still, as she calmed down and thought about what had happened, Rose was convinced that she was right, even if Mother refused to see it. It would be wonderful to go to university, and then travel to Africa and China and other exotic places. She wasn’t about to let either Miss Parson or Mother stop her, and an idea was beginning to form in her mind.
ROSE had a restless sleep, and thankfully lessons the next morning were cut short when Miss Parson complained of a headache and had to lie down. Rose immediately went and knocked on Aunt Alice’s door, hoping that she hadn’t gone out again. But her aunt was home and she greeted Rose with a big smile.
Meet Rose Page 3