Scatterheart

by Lili Wilkinson

  ‘Thomas,’ she said.

  He smiled a strange smile, and looked away. Hannah blushed. What must she look like to him? Dirty and scratched from her journey through the forest. Her hair short and ragged. Wearing a muddy and tattered dress. Her face red and peeling. She put her tongue to the gap in her mouth where she had lost the tooth in the doldrums.

  ‘I must look terrible,’ she said vaguely.

  ‘I can barely see you,’ he said. He spoke slowly at first, as if he were unused to it. ‘The light in the cave is poor, and without my spectacles–’

  ‘Oh,’ said Hannah, somewhat relieved.

  Thomas took the water bottle back from her, and turned to put it down behind him. Hannah struggled into a sitting position. The silence was uncomfortable. This wasn’t how she had imagined their reunion.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Hannah at last. ‘About your spectacles. I had them. I gave them to the savages. Well, I didn’t really give them. They took your spectacles. I didn’t really have a choice.’

  She was babbling. Thomas smiled the strange smile again.

  ‘You met them?’ he said. ‘I’ve only seen them from a distance. I’d like to meet them properly.’

  ‘I was frightened,’ she said. ‘The stories you hear.’

  Thomas shrugged. ‘They’re just stories. People are always afraid of things they don’t understand.’

  Hannah didn’t understand what was going on. Thomas didn’t seem happy to see her. He didn’t seem happy at all. Where was the sparkle in his grey eyes? She snuck a look at him. His eyes were flatter than the ocean had been at the doldrums.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ she asked.

  ‘Fine,’ he said, with another of the strange smiles.

  Hannah tried to work out what was strange about it. It wasn’t a happy smile. She thought suddenly of the story she had heard about Thomas falling in love with a convict woman. Was that it? Did Thomas feel he was being rescued by the wrong woman?

  ‘Are you hungry?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ said Hannah. She felt sick.

  He scrambled to his feet. ‘You should eat something,’ he said, turning to rummage in a hessian sack behind him.

  Hannah looked around the cave. She lay on a rough bed of dry leaves, covered with a hemp blanket. A few glass jars were lined up against the wall, filled with water. There was a large canister of rice, and a black kettle. Towards the back of the cave was a line of little carved wooden figures. Animals. Hannah smiled as she saw a kangaroo and a bear. Behind them was a small pile of rectangular objects.

  ‘You have books!’ said Hannah.

  A faint blush crept over Thomas’s cheeks. ‘It’s silly, I know,’ he said. ‘It’s difficult to read them without my glasses. I should have brought food and more blankets and a clean shirt. But I couldn’t quite bear the idea of being up here alone with nothing to read.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s silly at all,’ said Hannah. ‘You can’t imagine how often I wish I’d brought some books with me.’

  Thomas nodded. Hannah looked away, frowning. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

  There were footsteps outside, and Molly came bounding into the cave. She clutched a little wooden doll in one hand.

  ‘Hannah!’ she squealed. ‘You’re all right.’

  ‘I thought you were the sick one,’ Hannah said.

  Molly shrugged. ‘I got better,’ she said. ‘But then you got sick, so I came and found Mr Bear, who came and found you. I followed the yellow star.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Hannah, feeling as if she were in a dream. ‘Of course.’

  Thomas stood up. ‘I’ll make some food,’ he said, and left the cave.

  Hannah watched him go.

  ‘Mr Bear has lots of new stories,’ said Molly happily. ‘And he made me a dolly from a stick.’

  Hannah looked at the crude doll. ‘It’s lovely,’ she said, wondering if she would cry.

  ‘Aren’t you happy?’ said Molly. ‘We found Mr Bear. And he told me the rest of the story. We can all live happily ever after, now.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Hannah. ‘I suppose we can.’

  ‘Hannah?’ said Molly. ‘You should be happy. We found him.’

  Hannah nodded. ‘But perhaps he didn’t want to be found.’

  She stood up, and went outside. Thomas had wrapped some sort of vegetables in thick leaves, and was placing them near the hot coals of the fire to cook. About twenty feet from the fire, the mountain dropped off suddenly in a cliff. Hannah could see the hazy grey-green of the valley far below them. She felt dizzy.

  ‘Thomas…’ she said gently, reaching out and touching his hand.

  Thomas moved his hand away, stoking the fire.

  ‘You’ve come a long way,’ he said.

  Hannah’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I have,’ she said. ‘Such a very long way. But I found you, and now we can go home and start again, and this time I won’t be so stupid and everything will be all right.’

  Thomas glanced away. ‘How did you communicate with the savages?’ he said, as if he hadn’t heard her. ‘Was it very difficult? Did you see their camp?’

  Hannah wasn’t sure if she was going to burst into tears or fly into a rage.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

  Thomas turned and looked at her directly, for the first time. Hannah was frightened by what she saw in his eyes. The glittering grey ocean was dark and deep. He shook his head.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I know this isn’t what you were expecting.’

  He turned at the sound of a loud rustling in the trees nearby. Hannah followed his gaze, and her heart sank.

  ‘What a touching scene,’ said James, as he swung off his horse and approached the fire.

  thirty-four

  Scatterheart’s tears turned the earth to mud around her, and the discarded acorn grew a tiny green shoot. This shoot grew bigger and bigger, sending roots down into the moist earth and stretching branches up into the sky. Soon, it was a huge oak tree, powerful and strong. The tree wrapped its branches around the walls of the ice-castle, and tore them asunder, reducing the ice-castle to rubble.

  ***

  James looked dirty and weary, as if he had been riding without sleep for many days. Black pouches sagged under his eyes, and in the harsh white light, his pallor made him look sickly. His eyes flickered back and forth, and his left eyelid twitched.

  ‘How did you find us?’ asked Hannah.

  James shrugged. ‘I followed the road until I found the workers. They told me about the crazy man hiding up in the mountains, and how he lights a campfire every night.’

  Molly crept to the mouth of the cave.

  ‘What a happy family,’ James sneered. ‘The monster, the runaway and the murderer.’

  Thomas was looking at James, frowning.

  James smiled coldly. ‘Or is that the murderer and the runaway? It’s hard to say.’

  ‘What do you want, James?’ said Hannah.

  James turned to Thomas. ‘I don’t think we’ve been introduced. You’re Thomas Behr, murderer, deserter and fugitive. I’m Lieutenant James Belforte. Hannah’s husband.’ Thomas glanced at Hannah, an eyebrow cocked slightly.

  ‘It’s not true,’ she said. ‘At least, I did marry him, but I didn’t realise it at the time.’

  Thomas turned back to James.

  James drew out a pistol. ‘I’m taking my wife home,’ he said.

  ‘You most certainly are not,’ said Hannah.

  James ignored her, staring at Thomas. ‘I brought you a weapon, to make it fair.’ He pulled out a second gun, and tossed it at Thomas’s feet. ‘I believe you’ll recognise it.’

  Thomas glanced down at the pistol and his jaw tightened. He looked up at James.

  ‘I won’t fight you.’

  James sneered. ‘What are you, a coward?’

  Thomas shrugged. ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Pick up the gun.’

  ‘I won’t fight you.’

  ‘Why not?’ ask
ed James. ‘Isn’t she worth it?’

  Thomas said nothing.

  ‘Well then,’ said James. ‘Come on, Hannah. I’ll take you home.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere with you,’ said Hannah. She looked at Thomas. ‘Am I?’

  He looked at her. She remembered him looking at her that way on the steps of her house in London. Hannah took an impulsive step towards him. Then he looked away, and she stopped, frozen.

  ‘You should go with him.’ His voice caught slightly.

  Hannah felt the earth slip away from underneath her. ‘You don’t mean that,’ she said.

  ‘Hannah,’ said James. ‘Let’s go home.’ He looked at Molly. ‘If you come with me, I promise the … child will be taken care of. We can adopt her.’

  ‘No!’ Molly shouted. ‘We’re staying here with Mr Bear!’

  James clenched his fists. ‘You will come with me!’ he said to Hannah, veins standing out in his neck. ‘He doesn’t want you, did you hear that?’

  ‘What are you going to do, James?’ said Hannah. ‘Sling me over your horse’s back? Tie a rope to my ankle and drag me back to Parramatta?’

  James grabbed her by the wrist with his free hand. Hannah tried to pull away, but he yanked her forward and down into the dirt. Hannah tried to struggle to her feet, but James pushed her down again. Why was Thomas just standing there? Why wasn’t he helping her?

  ‘Yes,’ he hissed. ‘If I have to drag you home, then that’s what I’ll do. If I have to knock you unconscious, then so you shall be knocked.’ He planted a muddy boot on her chest, and levelled his pistol at her. ‘And if I have to kill you, then so be it.’

  Hannah opened her mouth to fling a reply at him, but James was pushed aside by a whirling ball of teeth and hair and nails. He yelped and cursed, dropping his gun. Molly clung to his back, spitting and scratching and biting like a wild thing. He yelled and struck out at her. There was a crack as his arm connected with her head.

  Molly fell to the ground, but scrabbled towards James like one possessed. He pushed her down and knelt over her, grabbing her by the throat.

  Blood was welling up on Molly’s forehead, and her lips were turning purple. Her one eye was rolled back in her head.

  Hannah scrambled to her feet and leapt at James, throwing all her weight against him. She glanced towards the cliff, and thought of Dr Ullathorne. If she could just get him over there…

  James struck out at Hannah, sending her sprawling again.

  ‘Stop.’ It was Thomas. He was standing by the mouth of the cave, holding James’s spare gun.

  ‘Leave her,’ he said.

  James’s eyes flickered down to his own gun, lying several feet away in the dirt. He looked back at Thomas and sneered. ‘You won’t do it,’ he said.

  Thomas said nothing, but didn’t lower the gun.

  ‘You’re a coward. You won’t kill me.’

  Thomas made a small, cold sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. ‘What do I have left to lose?’

  James looked at Hannah. ‘You convict slut, whoring yourself out to this murderer. How can you be so dense not to realise what I’m offering you?’

  Hannah went over to Molly, and helped her to her feet. Dark marks were appearing on her throat where James had gripped her. Hannah remembered the marks on Long Meg’s throat. ‘Go home, James,’ said Hannah.

  He looked at her, and seemed to deflate. He turned to his horse. Thomas lowered the gun, and glanced over at Molly, who was crying.

  While Thomas’s head was turned, James leapt for his own pistol, making a furious, animal sound.

  ‘Filthy little bitch,’ he said, levelling the pistol at Hannah. ‘You call yourself a lady of Quality, but you’re nothing more than a filthy, disgusting whore–’

  There was a sharp crack from the pistol in Thomas’s hand, and James gasped. He stared at Hannah, his mouth open.

  ‘How dare you,’ James whispered, and fell to the ground, dead.

  thirty-five

  Scatterheart looked up from her weeping, and saw the white bear, lying asleep in the rubble. She ran to him and kissed him and he woke up, and they were both filled with joy.

  ***

  Thomas disposed of the body. Hannah didn’t ask how. When he returned, they sat together at the mouth of the cave, not saying much. Molly wandered off down the hill to play with her wooden doll. James’s horse was tethered nearby, cropping at rough grass.

  Hannah thought that she would feel some sadness or guilt at James’s death, but all she felt was relief, and a vague uneasiness. Thomas had saved her. Did that mean that he loved her after all?

  ‘She’s a sweet girl,’ said Thomas, watching Molly scamper amongst the trees.

  Hannah nodded. ‘I hated her when I first met her,’ she said. ‘But she grew on me.’

  There was an uncomfortable pause. The hope that had kept her going through the mountains was soaking away. He didn’t want her.

  What would happen to her now? She couldn’t go back to the house in Parramatta. Would she be sent back to the Female Factory? She couldn’t bear to think about it.

  ‘I think it might rain tomorrow,’ said Thomas, looking out of the cave over the valley.

  ‘Oh,’ said Hannah. She thought of the long journey back through the mountains. She didn’t think she had the strength to make it.

  She was going to burst, or fall apart. Something. She couldn’t keep feeling like this. The emptiness inside her was too big; it would swallow her whole.

  ‘Thomas,’ she said.

  ‘Hmm?’

  Hannah thought about Scatterheart and the white bear. It was too easy for her. She just had to find the prince, and then everything would be happy ever after. This wasn’t right. The emptiness inside her began to whirl around, and then gathered together into something cold and hard.

  ‘Enough,’ she said. Her voice echoed angrily around the cave. ‘Enough,’ she said again, her voice growing louder as she tried to hold back hot, angry tears. ‘What is the matter with you? I gave up everything I had to get here, and you won’t even look at me. What happened to you?’

  He looked up at her. His eyes were wild and dark, like the ocean that had consumed Dr Ullathorne. He swallowed, and then spoke, slow and soft.

  ‘When I got here, I started working under a man called Captain Mitchell. He was cruel to the convicts, and not much better to us. One day, we were working a team of convict women. They were carrying buckets of earth to build a bridge. One of the women tripped and fell over. Captain Mitchell pulled her up by her hair, and she swore at him. He ordered me to flog her as punishment. I told him I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t flog a woman, and she hadn’t done anything wrong. He … he held a pistol to my head, and told me to do it or he would kill me. So I flogged her. But I was so careful. I made the cat crack like it was hitting her, but I was as gentle as a butterfly. I was staring at the woman, praying that she’d realise what I was doing and pretend to be hurting. But she didn’t. When I’d finished, Captain Mitchell tore her dress from her back. She didn’t have a mark. So he did it himself. He told her to remove all her clothes. Then he flogged her, naked. One hundred strokes, and every one felt like it was hitting me. She passed out after seventy, but he kept going. The … the light in his eyes, Hannah. He loved it. Loved seeing her scream. Loved watching strips of skin tear from her back. When it was over, he tossed a bucket of salt water over her, to wake her up. Then he sent her to the black cell.’

  ‘The black cell?’

  Thomas nodded, biting his lip. ‘It’s a pit, underground, filled with water. He locked her down there, naked and bleeding, for two days.’

  Hannah felt sick, remembering the darkness of the brig on the Derby Ram, and the bite of Superintendent Green’s cane. ‘But it wasn’t your fault.’

  Thomas took a deep breath. ‘Afterwards, I went to a drinking house. I wanted to forget. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her face. I drank too much. Then one of the other officers came in and told me that the woman had fainted ag
ain when she was in the cell. She drowned.’

  He stopped talking and looked down at his hands. Hannah thought he might have finished, but then he started talking again, faster this time.

  ‘I didn’t think. I was drunk. I stopped feeling guilty and started feeling angry. Instead of the woman’s face, all I could see was the delight on that bastard’s face as he tortured her. So I stood up, walked out of there and over to Captain Mitchell’s house. I didn’t try to sneak, or be secretive about it. People saw me walk in there. And they saw me walk out again, with his blood on me.’

  Hannah closed her eyes.

  ‘I shot him, Hannah. In cold blood. I murdered a man.’ He paused, and glanced at the reddish-brown stain close by. ‘Two men.’

  Hannah let out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. ‘I don’t care,’ she said. ‘I killed someone too. I pushed him off the ship’s deck in the middle of a storm. Do you think his face doesn’t haunt me at night?’

  Thomas sighed. ‘Life isn’t a fairy tale, Hannah. I can’t give you a happy ending.’

  Hannah stood up. ‘Did I ever ask for one?’ she said, but as she said it she realised she had. She had imagined their happy ending a thousand times. Tears filled her eyes, and she left the cave.

  The cave was situated high on the mountain, looking out over the deep series of valleys that Hannah and Molly had crossed. The three crumbling peaks of yellow rock crouched on the ridge, like the sawdust-crone, the glass-woman, and the wax-child from Scatterheart’s story. Hannah looked away. Some help they had been.

  She thought about her imagined reunions with Thomas, rehearsed and played over and over again in her mind since she had dreamed of the white bear in the doldrums. It now seemed so childish and pointless.

  She poked the fire with a stick. Orange sparks danced up into the air and vanished. Hannah watched them absently. She heard footsteps draw close, and then he was sitting beside her.

  ‘I imagined it too,’ he said. ‘The happy ending. I just never actually believed you’d come.’

  The very faintest shadow of a smile – a real smile – passed over his face, and for a moment, Hannah recognised him once more as the young man who had made snow-creatures with her in Hyde Park. They were not quite touching. Hannah poked the fire again, sending up another stream of sparks.