There had been many changes since Jane’s previous visit. The path from the bridge to the Hagwoods’ house had been widened into a regular carriageway. An avenue of young trees now led from the terrace to the river at a point immediately below the house. In the fields, new plantings were brilliant green against the rich brown earth. In front of the house, a grapevine on a wooden pergola was putting out new shoots while, beyond, an orchard of fruit trees was in flower.
Jane walked up to the imposing front door and reached for the heavy knocker. Before she could let it fall, however, the door opened.
The maid reminded her of Cuddy Marshall – the same pasty, wide-eyed look, the same lank hair. All that was missing, she thought spitefully, were the bruises.
‘Mrs Hagwood says please to come in, ma’am.’
She led her to a small room that Jane had not seen before. Elizabeth Hagwood was sitting in a day chair by a full-length window that overlooked the terrace. A mirror in an ornate frame hung above a handsome fireplace. There were pictures on the other walls and the furniture was new and expensive. A richly-coloured Turkey carpet covered the floor.
Elizabeth stood and came towards her. ‘My dear Jane,’ she said, ‘how very nice to see you. How have things been with you during the winter?’
Jane examined the question for double meaning but could find none. ‘Well enough, thank you.’
Elizabeth escorted her to a chair. She sat. They looked at each other.
‘Well,’ Elizabeth said, smiling.
Jane had come because she wanted someone to talk to. Now she was here, she was mortified to find she had nothing to say. Determined to make an effort, she looked about her. ‘I like this room.’
‘It is nice, isn’t it? It gets the sun in the mornings. It is pleasant to sit and look out at the river running past at the bottom of the hill.’
‘I am sure you do not spend all your days doing that.’
Elizabeth smiled. ‘Whenever I can.’
‘The trees, I think, are new.’
‘Oh yes.’
They talked about this and that, then Elizabeth rang the bell for Rosina and they drank chocolate from cups of delicate porcelain.
‘Mr Hagwood had them brought from Batavia,’ Elizabeth said. ‘They are Chinese, as you can see.’
‘Are you not lonely, up here by yourself?’ Jane asked.
‘I have scarcely enough time to think whether I am or not. There has been a great deal to do, you know.’
Jane feared Elizabeth might be hinting that her presence was a nuisance. ‘I hope my coming has not inconvenienced you.’
Elizabeth put her hand on Jane’s arm. ‘It is always a pleasure to see old friends. And to catch up with the gossip.’
‘There is little enough of that,’ Jane said discontentedly.
‘Surely not? You have become quite a metropolis, I hear, with boats from Europe and other parts coming and going all the time. We had a Scots gentleman to dine only a week or two ago. A Mr Carter, from Bengal. I understand he is thinking of settling in the colony with his family.’
‘He has a daughter of my own age,’ Jane said. ‘But when I met him he talked about nothing but business.’
She said this in so doleful a voice that Elizabeth laughed. ‘A lot of men do that. Of course, it is very important. When Mr Hagwood and I arrived in the colony a little over three years ago, everything was very barbaric. Now we are beginning to gain the benefits of civilization but it would not have been possible without money, and for money you need business.’
‘My father has a low opinion of trade.’
‘He is not alone in that,’ Elizabeth said gently, ‘but the colony would not survive without it.’ She gestured around her. ‘Everything in this house, the house itself, has come about solely because of trade.’
‘I know trade is important,’ Jane said, ‘but whenever I try to speak of it I am told not to bother my head about such things. I do so hate it when men talk like that, as though women were all children.’
‘Hopefully your husband will discuss such things with you.’
‘A husband?’ Jane said dismissively. ‘I see no prospect of that.’
Elizabeth smiled consolingly. ‘There is still time. You are – what? – eighteen?’
‘Nineteen next month,’ Jane said. ‘And my father disapproves of every man in the colony.’
‘He seems to have resolved his quarrel with the governor,’ Elizabeth said cautiously.
‘It would seem so. A month ago it was likely we would all be packed off back to England. Happily, that danger seems to have passed. For the present anyway.’
‘You say happily. Would you wish to stay here, in the colony?’
‘I think so. There is more of a challenge here than in England. A new country …’ She added thoughtfully, ‘It would depend on the circumstances in which one were placed, of course.’
Elizabeth said, ‘Mr Hagwood and I believe there is a great future here, for the right people.’
‘If only one were permitted to do more. I fear it is a man’s world, Mrs Hagwood.’
‘Only if you allow it to be. The world is the same for everyone, Jane. We make of it what we will.’
‘But there are so many things a woman cannot do. We have to sit at home while the men have all the excitement.’
‘Like running after escaped convicts, you mean? Captain Tremain passed through here a short while ago looking for escapees. I heard later that one of his men was killed. Would you really want that sort of excitement?’
‘I believe you would be more than capable, Mrs Hagwood.’
‘Not from choice. Other things, perhaps. I would certainly look after this property, for instance, if Mr Hagwood were ever away.’
They looked through the window at the farmland with its emerald coat of young corn.
‘You already have a fine estate,’ Jane said.
‘Mr Hagwood is thinking of purchasing the land between here and the bridge. With more money about, there is a great demand for land. Mr Hagwood felt it was wise to move before somebody else got hold of it. That will give us three hundred acres. It will mean a great deal of work,’ she said, sighing, ‘but that is the price one has to pay for settling in a new country. All the time, we are building for the next generation. And all the generations after that, of course.’
Jane hesitated. ‘Might I … might I ask how you and Mr Hagwood met?’
‘At Bath. Mr Hagwood was there with a distant cousin of his mother. I was with my parents. We were introduced and I fell in love with him there and then.’ She smiled reminiscently. ‘I remember the feeling exactly.’
‘And your parents gave their blessing?’
‘In the beginning they were strongly opposed to the match.’
‘Then how …?’
‘As I said, the world is what you make of it. I won them round.’
‘How did you do that?’
‘I told them the truth – that my happiness depended on their approval.’
‘What did they say when they knew you would be going so far away from them?’
‘They knew that from the first. He was an officer in the New South Wales Corps. I would naturally follow him.’
Jane sighed. ‘It must be a difficult decision.’
‘Surprisingly easy, if it is the right man.’ Elizabeth stood. ‘Perhaps we can take a short stroll while you tell me how your own affairs are progressing.’
The river was flowing dark and full after the winter rains but the weather was pleasantly warm, the air perfumed with the scent of wild flowers and young grass.
Elizabeth loved it. All her life she had enjoyed spring best of the seasons: the return of life to the dead land, the return of hope. Winters were less severe here than in Oxfordshire where she had grown up, so the pleasure at the return of warmer days was perhaps less, but the feeling of renewed expectations remained. The quickening of the earth beneath her feet filled her with a voluptuous sense of wellbeing, as though she, herself, were
being brought back to life by the returning sun.
She wondered why Jane had come. There had to be a reason, of course, yet so far she had given no hint what it might be. Perhaps it was to do with the younger Tremain boy – she had been interested in him at one time and at Jane’s age most problems revolved about men – but it was clear she would say nothing without prompting.
‘I understand Mr Tremain is returned from the south,’ she said.
Jane lifted her nose. ‘I believe so.’
So, Elizabeth thought. ‘Do you know if his voyage was successful?’ she asked.
The girl’s body tautened, like a rope taking strain. ‘Mr Tremain does not confide in me.’
A fish jumped in a widening circle of ripples.
‘I formed the impression that at one time the two of you were … close.’
‘Mr Tremain and I?’ A brittle laugh. ‘I cannot imagine why you should have thought such a thing.’
‘I must have been wrong,’ Elizabeth said calmly. She shot Jane a sideways glance. ‘I heard some talk of a convict girl?’
Jane watched the water. Her mouth was white around the lips. ‘I met her once, you know. An ugly little thing. Badly bruised, I recall. She said she’d been in an accident but’ – a bright smile – ‘I took leave to doubt that.’
Elizabeth took a deep breath. ‘You do not imagine that Cash is having a … a relationship with this girl?’
‘She is in the house with him.’
She had been right. It was why Jane had come. More confident now, she said, ‘I cannot see his having her in the house, if that were the situation. To be seen with her, to have people talking, would surely make his life more difficult than need be? It is of course not genteel to discuss such things but we both know there are more than enough women in the colony to satisfy his needs without his having to resort to that. Even if it were true – and I fail to see how one can ever be certain – I think a wise woman would ignore it. If she cared for him.’
Jane turned to stare at her. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because, from what you say of this convict woman, it means nothing.’
‘But surely –’
Elizabeth talked through the objection. ‘The wise woman, Jane, does not make an issue of everything. She sets her eyes on what – or whom – she wants, does what she has to do and ignores what she has to ignore, in order to get it. If she suspects a man of looking at another woman, she has to think: do I want him enough to fight for him? If she does, she has to be willing to do that. If her pride prevents her, she must forget him. Which would be best, in any case, because if she allows pride to stand in her way she cannot love him sufficiently.’
‘I would certainly not be prepared to humiliate myself by fighting a convict girl over any man,’ Jane said spiritedly.
Elizabeth tucked the girl’s arm into her own. ‘We are talking generally after all.’
They strolled back to the house together.
Elizabeth said, ‘Mr Hagwood gives me everything I have ever wanted in a man so I have never had to endure the situation we have been visualising. If I had been, I might have made the mistake, through false pride, of doing something that would have deprived me of the joy of being with the man I wanted. It is a very great joy, Jane. The greatest thing in life is to have someone you love and who loves you in return. Without love, life is nothing. People who have never had it do not understand or even altogether believe that but it is true.’ She shrugged. ‘Only if it is the right man, of course. And for such a man, any sacrifice is worthwhile.’
They reached the house and went inside.
Jane said, ‘I hope you will not discuss our conversation with Mr Hagwood?’
She is an arrogant minx, Elizabeth thought. ‘I keep nothing from him that concerns either him or us both,’ she said, ‘but we are all entitled to our confidences, are we not?
‘I hear a transport arrived in the Cove a week ago. No doubt there were newcomers for the colony on board? More officers and their wives? New officials?’
‘There’s a new chaplain and his wife,’ Jane said. ‘A little squat man with a face like a bulldog.’
Elizabeth laughed. ‘Better he should look like a bulldog than his wife. So now you must tell me all the news they brought with them from Europe. What is happening in France, the latest fashions … You don’t know how I envy you, hearing all those things. Up here, we hear nothing. So I must rely on you to keep me up to date with what is going on in the wide world, must I not?’
*
Jonathan Hagwood and Ira Thornton were having one of their regular meetings in Thornton’s office at Sydney Cove.
Jonathan was reading some papers that Thornton had put in front of him. He finished and sat back in his chair, tapping his teeth with the feather of a quill pen.
‘We are certainly having no trouble getting rid of the liquor,’ he said.
‘Quite a few of the guns and ammunition, too,’ Thornton said. ‘That side of the business is goin’ quicker than I thought.’
Thank God, Jonathan thought. After Orion’s original arrival he had decided, following days of uncertainty, to take up his share in the weapons Jones had brought with him. It had been a huge gamble. After he had paid for them they had barely enough cash for food but things had worked out well. Settlers were under increasing attack, not only from natives but from roving bands of escaped convicts, and a mark-up of a thousand per cent had done nothing to deter buyers. All the same, he would never forget the agonies he had suffered, the sleepless, sweating nights while he counted pennies in his head and wondered if greed had lured him into disaster.
Thornton placed another piece of paper on the desk.
‘A list of what we’re owed from grog sales last month,’ he said.
Jonathan examined the list, frowning. If his experience with the guns had taught him one thing it was the importance of having sufficient cash.
‘How can we be sure we’ll get our money back?’ Jonathan said. ‘It’s not as though we can reclaim the liquor – they’ll have drunk it by now.’
Thornton’s thin lips sketched a smile. ‘I’m ’opin’ they ’ave.’
Jonathan stretched his eyes wide. ‘Explain.’
Ira gestured at the piece of paper in Jonathan’s hand. ‘They’re the folks who’ve taken grog from us on credit. Not run o’ the mill customers, mind. Not convicts an’ such. Those chaps, they pays cash on the barrel head or goes without. Every man on that list’s got land – a farm, summat like that.’
‘So?’
‘So we lets ’em ’ave credit. Much as they wants! O’ course they’ll not be able to pay but they never thinks o’ that, see? All they thinks about is ’avin’ grog in their ’and an’ a good mate be’ind the bar lettin’ ’em put it on the slate. Then, one day, mebbe after a month, mebbe after six months, depending how fast they drink, someone comes to them, quiet like, and tells ’em to pay up. What with? they say. Wi’ brass, what else? Bain’t got no brass, they says. That’s all right, we tells ’em, we’ll take thy land instead. An’ tha’s what we does, an’ none to stop us.’ Thornton slapped the flat of his hand on the surface of the desk. ‘Yon list,’ he said. ‘Make us rich, it will. The fools a’ done all the ’ard work – broken the land, ploughed it, planted it, too, like as not. So we takes it over for the price o’ what’s owin’, and all we got to do is harvest the crop an’ sell it. Regular gold mine, that list.’
‘I like it,’ Jonathan said.
‘Or mebbe we don’t take their land off ’em. Instead, we gets ’em to do things for us. Things they might not be willin’ to do if they wasn’t under an obligation. Oh no, they says, I’d never do a thing like that. What be you thinkin’ of? Then a word in their ear and they comes along, quiet as you please.’ He rubbed his hands.
There was a tap on the door. ‘Come in!’
The door opened. Wilkes, his lanky, nervous clerk, stood in the opening.
Thornton scowled ferociously. ‘I told thee I weren’t to b
e disturbed.’
‘Quite right, sir, quite right.’ Wilkes wrung his hands. ‘But we’ve had a message from the signal station at the Heads, sir. Centaur is in the entrance.’
‘Centaur!’ Thornton exclaimed. ‘She’s made a good passage, then. To the Cape an’ back in – what – less’n five months. Very good. Gough’ll be pleased. Thank you, lad.’
Wilkes went out, closing the door behind him.
Jonathan scowled. ‘That damn man Pike should be working for us.’
‘But ’e’s not, so there’s no point thinkin’ ’bout it.’
Jonathan shook his head. ‘I don’t forget things,’ he said. ‘Silas Pike and I were talking together then he went and signed up with Gough Tremain. That’s treachery, in my book. I’ve a score to settle with Silas Pike, never fear.’
‘I’m afeard o’ nowt,’ Thornton said. ‘I’m no mate o’ the Tremains myself, come to that. Tha wants to settle scores wi’ Silas Pike, ’appen I’ll give thee a hand.’
*
Cash went on board Centaur as soon as her anchors were down.
Pike met him at the head of the ladder. His face was burnt black by the sun. Cash seized his hand and shook it enthusiastically. ‘Welcome back, Captain. Good passage?’
They walked side by side to Pike’s cabin.
‘Chocolate?’ Pike asked when they were sitting down, the door closed behind them. ‘Or something stronger, seeing it’s past noon?’
‘Something stronger,’ Cash said, ‘to celebrate your safe return. No trouble getting rid of the cargo?’
‘None. I’ve all the paperwork for you to look at. I think you’ll be happy.’
‘And the farming supplies?’
Pike nodded. ‘A full cargo. I hope you’ve got plenty of people wanting to set up as farmers, Mr Tremain!’
‘Plenty. Everyone in the colony seems anxious to start farming. I’ve another cargo for you, too.’
‘Sealskins?’
‘And oil.’
Pike poured rum into two glasses and handed one to Cash. ‘To our continuing partnership, Mr Tremain!’
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