A HAZARD OF HEARTS

by Frances Burke

  Bart returned for her, a reluctant escort sent by his Grannam, and Elly turned her back on the cottage whose occupant dreamed away the last days of his life. Paul had resumed his search for his cousin, so Elly arranged for Lucy’s body to be brought to the hospital, to her own room. There she cleaned and arrayed her decently then spent the rest of the night in vigil by her side. When Paul arrived, white with fatigue, his broad shoulders bowed in defeat, she told him all she knew, while wondering whether he had taken it in. He seemed scarcely to heed her sorrowful account, so she slipped away, leaving him to mourn privately.

  In the morning Jo-Beth brought her a document signed by the Acting President of the Board of Directors. Elly carried it to the window and read it carefully because the letters seemed to jump about, giving her some trouble.

  Jo-Beth watched her. ‘What does it say? Is it bad news?’

  Refolding the paper, Elly stared at her blankly. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know. They write of falling standards, of too many shortfalls, of patients’ complaints.’

  ‘What? When they’ve caused all the trouble themselves? What complaints? I’ve not heard of any?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. The evidence will be there if they need to manufacture it themselves.’

  ‘Evidence?’

  ‘Tomorrow there’s to be a special meeting of the Board. I’m invited to attend and show cause why they should not dismiss me as Matron.’

  Jo-Beth’s horror seemed to strike her dumb, but Elly only said wearily, ‘Perhaps it’s for the best. I’m not at all sure whether I want to go on.’

  ‘You don’t mean it!’

  ‘I’ve lost my sense of purpose, Jo-Beth. You know, Paul once warned me not to underestimate the Board’s power. I thought I could win them over to my views, but they’re unwilling to change. They never liked a woman standing up to them, and now Cornwallis has thrown his weight against me there’s no hope of my being heeded. No-one in the community seems interested in the hospital. Even J.G. with his stinging diatribes will soon be gone. I’m sorry to sound so defeatist, still, we must face the facts honestly.’ She let the letter fall and clutched her arms about her body, trying to warm herself.

  Jo-Beth made her sit down then crouched beside the chair, saying earnestly, ‘This is partly because you feel some guilt over Lucy, isn’t it? But you know her death wasn’t your fault. You’re letting your judgement become distorted. For that matter, I’m equally at fault for leaving her to that wolf. So is Paul. But whipping ourselves won’t bring her back; and giving up on your life’s work would be a useless sacrifice. You’ve always been a fighter, Elly. You will overcome this terrible melancholy, believe me. It’s not in your nature to give up.’

  ‘It’s in everyone’s nature, if the load becomes too heavy to carry. I’m lonely, you see. I don’t have the strength to keep going without someone at my side, a battle companion sharing the difficulties, supporting me when I waver, picking me up when I fall. It’s a sad admission from a crusader, but it’s the truth.’

  PART THREE - MAY, 1855 - NOVEMBER, 1855.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  It rained on the day of Lucy Gascoigne’s funeral. A bitter wind whipped the skirts and coats of the mourners huddled around the grave under a canopy of black umbrellas, yet no-one moved impatiently or stamped his feet against the cold. Elly gazed around the gallery of faces, many wet with tears, and thought that Lucy had made her mark in the world, even in such a brief space of time.

  Lacking relatives but rich in friends, she was mourned by her landlady; by companions from her brief weeks at work; by young soldiers, confreres of Alan McAndrews; by men from Paul’s political world who had been charmed by his young protégée; by Elly’s and Jo-Beth’s friends – even by the fruit-stall man from the corner where Lucy had bought an apple each day. Her gay, light-hearted personality had touched more people than Elly realised, making it harder to bear the thought that she had gone, extinguished as easily as a candle-flame.

  The minister’s words of hope of salvation were whipped away like a flock of starlings in the wind. Elly, looking across the gaping hole at her feet into Paul’s face, quickly returned her gaze to the pathetically small coffin, watched it being lowered as mud trickled in from the sides of the grave. The world wavered in front of her, the faces, the umbrellas, the dripping trees. This was the last straw, the coup de grace. Anger, frustration and grief combined like a great log rolling over her, treading her into the mud, and she knew she’d finally given in. She had made her decision. She would leave Sydney for some place far out in the countryside where she could find peace, away from all the pain and angst of the past two years. Someone else could do the fighting. She’d run out of weapons and the will to wield them.

  The minister finished, the wet earth thudded on the coffin. Elly waited until people began to move off, whispering her last goodbye before she returned to the others waiting at the carriages. Only the chief mourners were to go from the burial ground to Paul’s rooms in Balmain, yet Elly couldn’t face even such a small gathering. She wanted to keep her decision to herself a little longer. Nor did she want to face Paul just yet. He had been too shocked to notice how much she grieved for him. Having done her best to reach through the protective wall he had erected, as always, around his feelings, she finally left him to J.G., convinced by Paul’s attitude that he did not need her.

  Now huddled in the corner of the carriage with muddied skirts clinging to her icy ankles, she longed only to be back in her own room, with a hot cup of tea and time to herself. Instead, she heard Paul’s voice as he opened the carriage door, politely requesting Jo-Beth and Pearl, sitting opposite, to allow him to accompany Elly privately on the drive back.

  She said quickly, ‘I’m not coming, Paul. Please excuse me. I’m needed back at the hospital. There’s so much to do before I leave.’

  His haggard face was unrevealing, but he said quietly, ‘We need to talk, Elly. There’s been no chance since... Ladies, do you mind? J.G. and Captain Petherbridge will escort you in the carriage behind.’

  Jo-Beth and Pearl exchanged glances then rose, allowing Paul to help them down. Abandoning me, Elly thought drearily, turning her face to the streaming window. She felt Paul’s weight on the seat as he closed the door against the weather and took off his wet hat.

  ‘Elly,’ he began.

  She kept her face averted. ‘What is there to talk about? You can’t possibly blame me more than I blame myself. I know I’m not the only one who let Lucy down. We all did. Yet I can’t forget that this could all have been avoided if I had only taken more care.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about blame, although the Lord knows I’ve enough on my shoulders to sink a battleship. However, I do want to talk about you. You’ve got to stop this, Elly. You’re letting go.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Look at me, my dear.’

  She faced him angrily. ‘Don’t lecture me. I don’t need that from you. I don’t need anything from anyone. Just let me be in peace.’

  ‘Peace! Since when did the word have any meaning for you, Elly Ballard? Was it peace you wanted when you faced the people who turned you out into the bush to die? Was it peace that forced your way into the hospital and led you to take on the Board of Directors? Was it peace that changed a filthy, vermin-ridden hole into a place of safety for the sick? You can have peace when you’re fast in your rocking chair; in the meantime you’ll remember you’re a fighter, my girl, which means no quarter.’

  She flushed. ‘You can’t bully me, Paul. There’s no fight left in me. I’ve got to admit defeat when I’m dismissed. Now Lucy’s death is the last blow. I’m too angry and frustrated and too dispirited to go on.’

  ‘Oh, no you’re not.’ He took her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. The carriage lurched forward as the horses were whipped up, and she fell against him, her cheek landing on his wet lapel. He held her there, with the smell of damp wool in her nostrils, his chin edging her bonnet aside.
His voice was warm near her ear. ‘You’re not alone, my dear. We’re all in this battle with you. Also, it may surprise you to hear that our wake for poor little Lucy will be more a meeting of her avengers – something which I feel she would approve, if she knew.’

  Tremendously comforted by her awkward position, hard up against him, her body twisted sideways, half stifled in his coat, Elly paid little attention.

  ‘You’re not listening.’ He held her away from him. ‘Look, we won’t let you lose everything you’ve worked for, nor will we have Lucy go unavenged. But you must help us. We can’t do it without you.’

  She blinked and gave him her attention. ‘I don’t understand. What could we do against the power of the Board? How can you possibly reach Cornwallis to pull him down?’

  ‘That’s what we’ll discuss this afternoon over sherry and biscuits. What should have been a sad, decorous farewell to my little cousin will be a council of war directed against your oppressors and specifically against Cornwallis. It’s time we removed the gloves with that gentleman.’ His voice hardened, his grip on Elly’s shoulders tightening until she repressed a gasp. ‘You remember me raving on at you once about my father’ death? You might even have guessed Cornwallis was responsible.’

  ‘I did wonder. I’m so sorry, Paul. The scales are heavily weighted against that evil man.’ His sombre expression saddened her.

  ‘So, will you help, Elly?’

  ‘Of course I will.’ Already her crushed spirits had begun to lift with the prospect of something to be done. Even better, Paul had not said one word of reproach to her over Lucy. And without doubt, the prospect of evening the score with Cornwallis was just the thing to kindle the fighting flame once again. He shouldn’t be allowed to continue his progress of destruction through other people’s lives. ‘You must have thought me spineless, Paul. I’d been hit so many times I felt flattened. It’s just taken me a while to get my breath back.’

  He let her go and watched her straighten her bonnet. ‘Elly, you are about as spineless as Pepper, who killed his sixth snake last week.’

  ‘Ah, well, I don’t presume to be in Pepper’s class.’ She met his smile, and for a brief moment forgot the sadness lying over them all.

  They were greeted by a blazing fire in Paul’s rooms, with J.G. dispensing sherry in fine Irish crystal glasses, Paul’s wedding gift to Pearl. Paul raised an eyebrow as he silently helped Elly out of her wet pelisse. J.G. gave her a glass of glowing honey-gold nectar which warmed her after the first sip. She knew Jo-Beth had provided the sweet biscuits to go with the wine and had seen Ethan Petherbridge clutching a bunch of winter iris which now adorned the mantel shelf. I provided nothing, she thought, except a self-centred whine about my own misery. It’s time I took a grip on myself.

  Paul raised his glass to the company. ‘I’d like to toast the memory of Lucy, who will never be forgotten by us.’

  ‘A blithesome lass, a minx, yet an engaging one,’ added J.G.

  ‘A woman,’ Pearl corrected him, ‘whose flowering was cut off too soon. May her spirit wander in pleasant paths.’

  They drank the toast solemnly.

  While J.G. refilled the glasses Jo-Beth whispered to Elly, ‘Do you suppose her spirit has been united with her dead parents’?’

  ‘I shouldn’t be surprised. Although if you’re talking about Heaven, it’s hard to fathom a God who would let this happen to an innocent girl. My father always said He had been invented by people needing a crutch or a whipping boy.’

  Jo-Beth shook her head. ‘Why reproach Him for our own choices, or for the evil in our hearts?’

  She had been overheard. J.G’s voice rose to fill the room. ‘We all know whom to blame, and we’ll get him, never fear. The curse of the crows on you, Cornwallis. May you be a load for four before the year’s out!’

  ‘I’ll drink to that.’ Ethan Petherbridge downed his sherry with a scowl. ‘I’ve seen some cruel sights in my travels and heard tales to curdle the blood, but nothing has moved me as much as this sad series of events. I’m with you, however fiendish your plot for revenge.’

  Jo-Beth sent him a glance of pride and approval. Elly knew she was grateful for his easy acceptance into their close circle.

  They had watched Alan McAndrews’ sad withdrawal with sympathy. Elly knew Jo-Beth had suffered for him, her deep happiness with Ethan overshadowed by the necessary cruelty of dismissing a man who loved her and wished her well to the last.

  But now Elly saw Paul watching the happy pair, saw his expression as he hastily turned aside. He was thinking that Lucy had no chance of such joy, and suffering for her. Hadn’t he borne enough? She put down her glass and said, ‘Well, J.G., what are we going to do about it? That’s why we’re here, isn’t it, to plan how to bring down Cornwallis?’

  His lips twisted. ‘We’ve already begun.’

  They gathered around him while he held the floor. ‘Paul and I have discussed the best way to go about this, and we’ve agreed the only sure method is to attack the black hound’s reputation, to expose him before his peers. He’d rather kill himself than lose his position in society.’

  Paul joined in. ‘He’s the son of a British peer, feted and admired, too clever by half in business, monied, spoilt, toadied. He’s begun to believe he’s invincible. So we’ll prove him wrong.’

  ‘How have you begun?’ Elly asked.

  ‘We’ve inserted a death notice in all the Sydney journals, a large, eye-catching black-bordered affair, which hints at some mystery attached to Lucy’s demise. We didn’t hesitate. Knowing Lucy as you did, do you think for a moment she wouldn’t want to join us in the hunt?’

  She nodded. ‘It seems dreadful, but you’re right. Lucy would cheer you on. And you believe this will worry Cornwallis?’

  ‘Oh, I think so. He meant to punish me by ruining my cousin. He didn’t mean to kill her. The Honourable D’Arcy will be carrying pistols and starting at shadows, wondering whether I’ve come for him.’ His voice was iron. ‘But I’ve realised he’s not worth hanging for. My revenge will be deeper and more painful than a quick death.’

  ‘You’ve waited a long time haven’t you?’ It saddened Elly to think how long. It had festered in his mind from the age of fourteen, colouring and distorting his development until it had grown into part of him. When he finally achieved catharsis, would it leave him emotionally exhausted, unable to lead a normal life?

  Ethan looked interested. ‘Why? What else lies between you and Cornwallis, Gascoigne?’

  To Elly’s surprise Paul gave him a full answer. ‘He has attacked Elly and caused me to be beaten by thugs who might have killed me. His family ruined mine, and he had my father tortured to death. Then there’s Lucy. I’d say there’s quite a debt between us, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I wonder what the Master Lao Tzu would say about such a debt?’ Pearl was thoughtful.

  Everyone except J.G. seemed bewildered. He patted his wife’s hand. ‘My love, he would say regrets are vain, they stifle the present, and the balanced soul would not harbour revenge. But we’re out to stop evil. Cornwallis has left a trail of damaged lives, of actual deaths and, worse, minds which will never heal. Like a vampire, he feeds off the fear and misery of others.’

  ‘Surely you exaggerate, J.G.’

  Seeing her anxious expression, he added, ‘Paul knows I don’t. He’s heard the tales circulating in the taverns, the faint odour which persists around Cornwallis yet is never openly discussed.’

  Both Pearl and Jo-Beth raised doubtful eyebrows. Elly could read their thoughts: male exaggeration, gossip, the desire to be ‘in-the-know’ and up with the latest salacious tale to circulate amongst the boys.

  ‘They’re right,’ she said, and told them about the hanging in the Darlinghurst Gaol. ‘I know anyone who wishes may be a witness to an execution, horrible thought. But to deliberately savour the victim’s terror, to want to pull the knot tight in person, is simply abhorrent.’

  Jo-Beth exclaimed, ‘My God, he’s a monster. Let�
�s get on with this plan, whatever it is.’

  J.G. continued to expound. ‘We’ve begun a campaign to undermine confidence in him, just hints in the market place, conversations meant to be overheard in the clubs, and so on. We’re also conducting a thorough search into his background, to dig up anything at all reprehensible which we can publish.

  ‘Henry Parkes has agreed,’ Paul added. ‘He’s with us in this, particularly as there’s a political angle. Cornwallis hopes to be appointed to the Legislative Council at the next elections. There’s another thing. He’s a powerful member of the Hospital Board of Directors and directly responsible for the action against Elly. If we discredit him it will go some way towards upholding her credibility.’

  Elly smiled wanly. ‘Thank you, Paul. But it won’t be sufficient to have me reinstated.’

  ‘You’ll do that yourself, Elly. You haven’t examined this clearly. As a private citizen, no longer the Matron, you will be able to go to the public, approach influential members – I’ll get you the entree if you’re refused – send letters to women active in charities in the colony seeking their support in your fight to improve the hospital. They have influence by virtue of their husbands’ position and wealth, which they use in support of worthy causes. And what better cause than the health of other women and children? Then you can mount your soapbox in the Domain to make public speeches.’

  She said faintly, ‘What?’

  ‘I like it.’ Jo-Beth nodded. ‘Now you’re no longer bound by loyalty to your employers you can say what you like, expose what you like. I’ll help you write the letters and speeches.’

  Elly felt the walls closing in on her. ‘I couldn’t do it.’