Australian Odyssey

by Pauline Saull

  “I would be delighted. Thank you.”

  The waiter led the way to a table in the bay window. Captain Moreland insisted on holding out her chair himself. “You are,” he murmured, “a woman of spirit, Mrs. Bickerstaff. It will take you far in this country.”

  “Shall we have wine? They do an excellent one, the vines are grown locally.”

  She nodded and he clicked his fingers at a waiter. “Your best wine,” he said.

  He passed a menu to her. “To eat, I can recommend the barramundi. It is an extremely tasty fish which they grill very finely here, along with a delicious dish of roasted vegetables.”

  Ella smiled. “Then that is what I shall have.”

  Over the course of the meal it was impossible for Ella to ignore the signs. Robert Morehead was trying hard to hide his attraction for her. She was not vain, did not agree with women who used their looks intentionally for gain, and so endeavored to remain unaffected by the wistful glances he cast her way. What Robert couldn’t know was that she had heard the coarse remarks on board ship. Sitting in the shade of the funnel one particularly warm day, it had amused her to hear herself and Thomas’ love life discussed by the crew. “Bet ’is pecker’s no bigger than me little finger,” said one. “Won’t keep a ripe peach like her satisfied,” another said to loud raucous laughter, followed by Robert’s call for, “Order, men!”

  Looking at him now, conscious of his scrutiny and reddened face, Ella’s own remained impassive. Men were of no interest to her whatsoever. Captain Moreland was handsome, had a kind face, thick head of hair, was well-dressed, courteous and charming, but she had no intention, now or in the future, of becoming involved with any man. She meant to run her life as she alone wished. Freedom was hers and she fully intended holding onto it.

  “Tell me about your plans, Mrs. Bickerstaff. I find it quite disconcerting that if you decided to stay, you would be alone here. It is a harsh country.”

  “Captain, thank you for your concern, but please do not worry. My husband was to take over management of Birk’s chemist here in town, so I intend calling on Mr. Birk in the morning to explain the situation. Hopefully, he may be willing to employ me on a temporary basis, for I learned much from my husband. Then I think I shall look for a home. Perhaps that will also be temporary. I know I could get back on your ship, but I don’t want to act in haste and regret it.”

  The Captain stroked his chin, a frown creasing his tanned forehead. “Ah, so you haven’t really made up your mind?”

  “No. It’s too soon. And of course,” Ella said, gazing out onto the sunlit street, “after England everything looks so bright, new, exciting. I think I could be happy here, but we shall see.” She placed the napkin on the table. “A lovely meal, thank you.” She stifled a yawn.

  “Ah. I see you’re tired. Perhaps a short stroll along the waterfront would be beneficial before you retire. After such a clear day, there should be a spectacular sunset. And of course, the town shows off its lighting at night.”

  “My husband explained how far advanced Port Adelaide is,” Ella said as they exited the dining room. “The town is serviced with all modern amenities I believe.”

  “Indeed.” They’d stepped out onto the busy street. “As you see, the horse-drawn trams are well used by the town folk. The telephone exchange opened five years ago, there is an overland telegraph service to London and with the opening of the railway line to Melbourne two years ago travel is so much easier. The thing people here are most proud of is that homes in town are connected to a waterborne sewerage system!”

  Ella’s tinkled laughter made him smile.

  As they walked, the Captain offered his arm. Ella laid her hand lightly on, not through it.

  “Tell me, Captain Moreland, do you have a home in England or is all your time spent at sea?”

  “I keep a room in Southampton, rather like the one at the Railway Hotel here, but yes, most of my time is spent at sea, I know nothing else. Having joined a ship at fourteen from the need to earn a few shillings, I very quickly took to the life, decided it was what I wanted, and so worked my way up.”

  “How interesting. I take it you have no family?”

  “No.”

  “You answered so quickly I take it you’re used to the question?”

  Captain Moreland laughed. “Just a little!”

  They’d walked to the edge of the wide estuary. Watching the last of the red ball of sun slip slowly over the horizon, Ella shaded her eyes. “How very beautiful,” she murmured, unaware that Robert, his gaze riveted on her profile, was nodding in fervent agreement.

  »»•««

  Ella slept well that night, her money bag beside her, a great comfort. Warmth dragged her from sleep and she blinked, shielding her eyes. Not having closed the curtains, sunlight poured in through the window onto the bed, and she stretched luxuriously. How marvelous, she thought, to be so warm. Memories of dank dark days in their Hampshire cottage, and then the dour overstuffed house in foggy London, were fading more rapidly than the previous evening’s sun as it slid away.

  The old life was behind her now.

  Hands behind her head, she watched the light dance across the ceiling. Can I, she wondered, make a new life here? Will it be possible on my own? Robert seems to think not!

  Dismissing such thoughts, the visit to Birk’s on her mind, she rose and washed.

  The three dresses remaining in her trunk were creased and slightly damp.

  “Drat!” She held the sprigged mauve one to her nose and sniffed. It hadn’t yet started smelling, so after rubbing it with the lavender soap she pulled it over her head and fastened the buttons, secured her hair with pins, and before leaving the room collected the black cloak. For protocol’s sake, she would wear it for the interview at Birk’s.

  Downstairs in the dining room, as she knew he would be, Captain Moreland waited. He stood, beckoning her to his table, a wide smile lighting his face. Ella saw his glance flicker over her and contained a wry smile. She could see the rapidity with which she’d shed her widow’s weeds puzzled him! If he dared mention it, which she doubted, she would put it down to the heat, reminding him how difficult it would be to wear black in this climate.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Bickerstaff. May I say you look delightfully revitalized after the comfort of a proper bed and mattress? Although we do our best aboard ship, cabin bunks are not what most would choose for a good night’s sleep.”

  “I slept well last night, thank you.” Ella sat in the chair he held out and ordered a pot of tea and two poached eggs with bacon and toast from the waiter. While waiting, Ella enquired after the location of Birk’s.

  “I know it well. It’s not far at all. My carriage again is at your disposal. I believe like most shops here, the chemist opens at eight thirty.”

  When breakfast finished, Captain Moreland ordered his carriage to be brought to the hotel front and they climbed in. He took the reins, driving at a steady pace through the wide streets as he pointed out landmarks. “The bank to your left, Martin’s teashop on the corner, they serve the most delicious cakes and lime cordial there, which I believe is locally produced and here we’re approaching Birk’s.” He brought the carriage to a halt outside a tall imposing building. Helping her down, he smiled warmly.

  “I shall wait for you,” he said.

  “Thank you, but I will decline your kind offer. I think I should like to walk back. It will give me a better idea of the layout of this very interesting town.”

  She felt his reluctance, so quickly bade him good day before he could argue. Draping the black cloak over her head and shoulders, Ella pushed open the heavy door into the clean-smelling interior of the large shop, asking at the counter to see Mr. Birk.

  The young man stared wide-eyed. “Mr. Birk?” he gulped.

  Ella smiled. “Yes please.”

  William Birk, a large white-haired, white-bearded gentleman emerged from an office at the back soon after Ella’s request had been conveyed to him. “Mrs. Bickerstaff
!” He looked puzzled. “Please come through, my dear. We were expecting your husband. Is he unwell?”

  Ella waited until the office door had closed behind her. “I am afraid, sir, that my husband is dead. He passed away three days out of Port Adelaide.”

  “Heaven’s above! My dear lady!” Mr. Birk held out a chair for Ella, rang the brass bell on his desk, and the young man from the counter appeared.

  “Sir?”

  “Phillip, bring in two large glasses of my best Madeira immediately, please.”

  »»•««

  Over the wine, Ella told Mr. Birk as much as she knew of Thomas’ illness.

  “It was sudden. He hadn’t complained of any pain. The reverend on board suspected a heart defect may have been the cause.”

  “The poor man. What a sad end when he would have been looking forward to a new life. And you, my dear, may I ask what you intend doing now?”

  “Ah, well, I have a request, Mr. Birk, which I would like to put before you.”

  Mr. Birk studied her. “Go ahead.”

  Ella leaned back in the chair. “I worked alongside Thomas for almost seven years and he taught me almost everything he knew. He said I had a feeling…yes, that’s what he called it, a feeling for potions, so could I put myself forward as a temporary replacement for him?”

  “Oh, my dear! No. I’m sorry but the work dispensing medicines and potions is a man’s work. I couldn’t possibly allow it…though,” he said slowly as he pulled his earlobe and scratched his forehead, “the temptation is great, because a male successor would have to be brought out from England. Three months or more could pass before one arrived and the shop really needs two people. I was counting on Thomas.”

  Ella waited, hands clenched in her lap. She glanced at her white knuckles and realized just how much she wanted him to say yes.

  Mr. Birk rose to his feet and walked to the window. Ella watched his straight back, thought she saw a lessening in the stiffness of his stance, and let out a long, soft sigh.

  “Very well, Mrs. Bickerstaff.” He turned to face her. “Until I can secure another chemist, the job will be yours.”

  »»•««

  Two weeks passed quickly. Captain Moreland had been gone five days, and although Ella had appreciated his help, she’d seen too often a look in his eyes when they’d rested on her. When the Venture at last sailed, she felt a mild sense of relief.

  By now, well established at Birk’s, eager to impart the knowledge learned in London, she soon earned William Birk’s respect.

  “I’m impressed, Mrs. Bickerstaff,” he commented, watching as she mixed tinctures and creams. “The potion to combat diarrhea, I believe has been particularly effective as has the one for relief of congestion in the chest. I think,” he mused, “that from now on your salary should be three pounds a week.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Birk! That is most generous of you. I shall put all my energies into serving you well.”

  “You seem to be enjoying the work,” Phillip observed, when Mr. Birk had gone.

  “Indeed I am.” Ella was studying the names on the large jars kept on the top shelf. “The days are not too long, and I have the comfort of the hotel to return to each evening.” She frowned slightly. “Though of course that can only be a temporary measure. I need my own place. This jar here, Phillip.” She pointed. “Potassium Permanganate. I read everything I could about Australia before leaving England and do recall this name in connection with venomous snakes.”

  Phillip smiled. “Quite right. The old snake men used to swear by it. But I wouldn’t worry about snakes in town, Ella. I’m nineteen and haven’t seen one yet!”

  “Well, I shall buy a small jar anyway. Better to be safe than sorry.”

  »»•««

  One quiet morning, busy in the small booth pounding lavender into beeswax with a mortar and pestle, she heard the shop bell tinkle, followed by Phillip’s breezy voice.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Kettler. How are you today?”

  “Not good. Those drops didn’t work, Phillip. I was up all night again with the pain.”

  “Oh dear, I’m sorry. They come highly recommended. I really can’t think what else to suggest.”

  Intrigued, Ella put down the pestle, wiped her hands, and approached the counter.

  “Can I help at all, Phillip?” Her gaze was focused on the tall straight-backed female with an unusually handsome face.

  “And who are you?” Bright eyes narrowed, surveying Ella.

  “The new chemist, Ella Bickerstaff. I arrived from London some weeks ago.”

  “Ah, yes, I did hear something months back about a new chemist but assumed it would be a man…London, you say? They know everything there, don’t they?”

  Ella smiled, suddenly liking the strange woman. “Perhaps they like to think they do.”

  “Well, young lady. If you can do anything to ease this infernal pain in my ear I would be most grateful.”

  “Have you had the ache long?”

  “After a nasty sore throat and cold last week, this started.”

  “Yes, it’s common after a cold, I believe. Please take a seat, I think I can mix something for you, it won’t take very long.”

  It didn’t take Ella many minutes to mix sweet oil with paregoric. She poured it into a small bottle, collected a pack of cotton wool, returned to the shop counter, and put both items into a paper bag.

  “Warm a few drops of the mix on a spoon, Mrs. Kettler, then soak the cotton wool with it. Put it as far into your ear as is comfortable while still warm. It should help to ease the pain considerably.”

  “Well thank you. We shall see. Good day.”

  The door clanged shut behind her. Phillip’s eyebrows rose. “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen the woman smile!” He laughed. “If that works, Ella, you’ll have made a friend for life.”

  “I liked her. What do you know about her?”

  “Not much. She likes to keep herself to herself, doesn’t gossip so isn’t popular with other women. She owns Woomba farm out yonder, other than that,” Phillip said as he shrugged, “she’s a mystery.”

  “Mm. No husband?”

  “Not that I know of, but a lot of men around these parts went off to work the gold mines and never came back.” He grinned. “Good excuse to get away from a nagging wife! I’m off to pan for gold, dearie. See ya!”

  Ella laughed.

  Once or twice during the afternoon she found her thoughts wandering to the lady and hoped what she’d given her would help. Earache, she knew, was a dreadful thing.

  »»•««

  The following morning, Mrs. Kettler was waiting on the shop doorstep as Phillip rolled up the blinds to open for business.

  Seeing Ella, she strode to the counter, a wide smile lighting her face. “I can’t thank you enough, dear girl! Do you know, I had the best sleep in a week last night…without pain! I’m delighted.”

  Ella smiled. “I’m pleased to hear it.”

  “So.” The beady bright eyes glittered. “What can you do for these?” Mrs. Kettler held out her hands showing sore-looking, cracked, and reddened palms.

  “Mm.” Ella nodded. “You have an allergy to something, I think.”

  “I have. It’s the damn fruits.”

  Ella frowned. “Fruits?”

  Mrs. Kettler leaned forward. “I have an orchard, three acres of lemon and lime trees. I make the juice into cordial. Profitable, but it’s murder on my hands.”

  “How interesting.” Ella took one of her hands and ran a finger over the palm. “Well, I haven’t anything made up, but I could have it ready for this afternoon. Do you live nearby?”

  “A ten minute ride out of town, why?”

  “Leave your address, and I’ll call by on my way back to the hotel this evening.”

  Mrs. Kettler shook her head. “Too far to walk in this heat and looking like you do, I don’t think it’s a good idea to wander down country lanes unaccompanied.”

  Phillip, listening in, offered
a solution. “As it will benefit his customer, I’m sure Mr. Birk will loan you the use of the shop’s carriage, Ella. I’ll ask him.”

  While Phillip was gone, Mrs. Kettler gave Ella directions to her farm.

  “On the road west out of town you’ll see the signs for Woomba, which is my place. It’s on the same lane as the entrance to Glen Ayre Farm. You can’t miss them. And what did he say, young man?” she asked as Phillip returned.

  “Of course, Ella must take the carriage.”

  “Good, good. Four thirty then, shall we say?”

  Ella agreed and Mrs. Kettler left. The shop kept them busy, but Ella begged a little time off to mix the compound she had in mind.

  “Do we have any lard, Phillip? I’ve seen the other two ingredients I need for a salve.”

  “Check in the cool box at the end of the yard, if there’s none there you’ll have to try the butcher.”

  Ella lifted the cool box lid and wrinkled her nose. The small amount of lard was rancid. Lifting it out, she laid it on the marble slab and worked in pine resin and yellow wax, adding a pinch of ground cloves to cover the odor. At four fifteen Phillip brought the pony and small trap to the front door for her. She climbed in and settled her money bag, thanking heaven for long full skirts.

  “Mr. Birk said to leave the horse and carriage with the stable boy at the hotel. They’ll look after it overnight. Good luck with Ma Kettler.”

  “Ma? She has children?”

  Phillip laughed, shook his head. “No, people call her that because she’s such an old battle-axe.”

  Ella turned her steady gaze on him and the smile slid off his face. “Remember she is a customer who provides our wages, Phillip. Not a good idea to indulge in name calling, I don’t think.”

  »»•««

  Once out of town, Ella slowed the pony down to a gentle amble. The surrounding countryside, lush and green, with rolling pastures stretching out to the hills beneath the deep blue sky enchanted her, as did the space, the birdsong, the clean, fresh air. She took deep breaths. After fog-filled London it was, and always would be, one of the many pleasures of Australia for her. Checking the directions, she turned off at the signs for ‘Woomba’ to the left and ‘Glen Ayre’ straight on. Down the wide well-worn track, after pulling into the first left-hand side lane, she drove through a gate, coming to a stop in front of the wooden house. Mrs. Kettler, seated on the porch waiting, had a covered tray set out on the table by her side. She rose as Ella climbed from the trap.