Farewell to Lancashire

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Farewell to Lancashire Page 25

by Anna Jacobs


  They sat by the fire for a while, and then, as there was still no sign of the big carts, they made up a bed inside the shack and settled down for the night.

  ‘It’s nice, really,’ she said.

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Being on our own. We’ve not been on our own for months.’

  ‘We’ll build a shack for Reece away from this house,’ he said, taking her in his arms. ‘I’d welcome a bit more privacy to make love to my wife.’

  She snuggled up against him. Maybe this time they’d manage to make a child. They’d been trying for a while now, without a sign.

  Reece and the two big carts arrived at the block about ten o’clock the following morning. He explained about the wheel but could see that Francis wasn’t happy about him failing to arrive.

  ‘They should still have sent one cart on! I don’t like my wife roughing it.’

  ‘They needed all three men to change the wheel, and even if I’d had a horse, I’d have stayed with them. Not only were your possessions on those carts, but everything I own in the world, too. And the roads round here aren’t good enough to travel in the dark. There was no moon last night.’

  Jack slouched across, his face impassive, as if he hadn’t heard the conversation. ‘Where d’you want us to put your things, Mr Southerham?’

  ‘We’ve brought a big tent to use as a storeroom, and for Reece to sleep in. If you could help set it up first then unload into it, I’d be grateful.’

  ‘Yeah, right. Cup of tea would be nice to start us off, missus.’

  Reece could see Francis bridling at this casual way of treating his wife, so said quickly, ‘I’ll make the tea.’

  Livia smiled at them all. ‘No, I will. You men get on with unloading things and I’ll call you when the tea’s ready.’

  She had more sense than her husband, Reece thought as he turned to inspect the terrain and ask Jack’s advice about where to site the tent.

  ‘I thought to put it over there,’ Francis said.

  ‘You’ll get a river running through it come winter if you do that,’ Jack said. ‘Up to you. We’ll set it up where you want.’ He winked at Reece.

  ‘A river?’

  Jack pointed to the ground. ‘Come winter, you’ll get run-off coming down here.’ He saw Francis’s puzzled look. ‘Rainwater. Got to go somewhere, hasn’t it? Most of the rain comes in winter and runs away downhill. Don’t want it going into your stores, do you?’

  ‘Where would you advise us to put it?’ Reece asked.

  ‘Billy will know.’ He pointed to the man who’d sat silently for most of the journey next to Tommo. He was clearly part-aboriginal, but dressed and acted like his companions, and they seemed to treat him as an equal. ‘Good lad, Billy is. We’ll get the tent unloaded while he looks round.’

  By the time Billy had chosen a piece of land that rose a little, about a hundred yards from the shack, the tea was ready. The men drank it with loud appreciation, after which they set to and erected the tent.

  ‘Is there anything you don’t know how to do?’ Reece asked, watching how capably the other three worked, compared to himself and Francis.

  ‘Y’have to be able to look after yourselves when you’re on the road,’ Jack said. ‘Poor sort I’d be if I couldn’t put up a shelter and cook my meals when I’m away from home.’

  It was well into the afternoon by the time they’d unloaded everything and put it in the big tent, making space in a corner for Reece to sleep behind some boxes.

  ‘Do you three want to stay the night here?’ Francis asked. ‘It’s all right by me if you do.’

  ‘Got a friend nearby. I’ll go and see him. Didn’t realise you were moving next door to old Kevin. If you’ve time, I’ll take you across to meet him. Doesn’t hurt to meet the neighbours.’ He looked sideways at Francis. ‘He’s an ex-convict like me, though, so perhaps you’d rather not.’

  Francis looked at him in shock. ‘An ex-convict is allowed to lease a block of land?’

  ‘He was a gentleman back home. Irish. Fell foul of the government because he wanted to free Ireland, so they sent him out here. He’s a good fellow, but.’

  ‘I’ll go and meet him with you,’ Reece said, seeing by his expression that Francis was going to refuse. ‘How far away is his place, Jack?’

  ‘An hour for us. But if you cut across the slope on foot, it won’t take you more than a few minutes to get back.’

  Reece didn’t wait in case Francis refused but joined Jack on the cart. A neighbour who knew this area would be able to help them in these new conditions, whatever his background.

  Kevin Lynch was older than Reece had expected, his face lined, his hair white. He was very thin, his skin tanned but with a yellowish undertone, as if he wasn’t well.

  When Reece offered his hand, Kevin shook it and grinned. ‘Not frightened to touch an ex-convict, then, Mr Gregory?’

  ‘Terrified. And my name’s Reece.’ Ordinary Australians didn’t stand on ceremony with one another. He liked that. ‘I’m general servant to the Southerhams next door until a year next April, then I’ll find a piece of land and set up on my own.’

  ‘Know about farming, do you?’

  ‘A bit. I worked on a farm for a couple of years after the cotton mills shut down. I’ve still got a lot to learn, though, so if you’ve ever got any advice about conditions here, don’t hesitate to share it. I’ll listen gratefully.’

  He didn’t stay long, but left with a standing invitation to ask for advice any time or simply to come visiting.

  He wished it was his land, and that he was working for his own future not the Southerhams’. But he’d served several months now, and the rest of the time would soon pass. And maybe by the end of it, he’d have a wife. He hoped so.

  He’d work on that letter to Cassandra tonight. And he’d put it in the post next time he went to Perth, however much it cost to write to England. They charged by weight, he’d heard, and he’d written a lot of pages, but he didn’t want to take out any of them. She had to know what she’d be facing here.

  He prayed she’d come and join him. He missed her so much.

  17

  Early in the morning of the 13th December, Cassandra heard someone call out that land had been sighted. She got up, throwing on her clothes any old how, eager to go up on deck and see her new home. But her body betrayed her, rebelling at such haste. Clapping her hand to her mouth, she fled to the water closet.

  When she returned to the cabin, she found Miss Pershore sitting on the edge of the lower bunk, staring at her as if she’d grown two heads.

  ‘You’re expecting a child, aren’t you?’ she demanded in a tone of both triumph and disgust.

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘I’ve wondered all along whether you really did have a husband, because you never talk about him, and that’s not natural. I think you’re just saying you’re a widow to escape the consequences of fornication!’

  Cassandra drew herself up to her full height and stared down at the scrawny, scowling woman. She’d tried in vain to get on with Miss Pershore, to stay polite, but if she let this accusation go unchallenged, her child would be labelled a bastard and the stigma of that would ensure the poor little thing would be treated badly throughout its life. ‘I was brought to join this ship by a clergyman and his wife, who vouched for me and who knew what my married state was. Do you think they’d have done that if this child was the result of my immorality?’

  Silence, then Miss Pershore let out a loud sniff. ‘Does your mistress know about it?’

  ‘None of your business.’

  ‘She doesn’t, I can tell. And she won’t want you as a maid once your condition is known. They never do.’

  ‘Then I shall find myself another job.’

  ‘You won’t get one as a lady’s maid.’

  ‘I shan’t want one if it turns people as sour as you.’

  She regretted the hasty words as soon as she’d spoken them. It never paid to make outright enemies. There was
a long, fraught silence, then Cassandra picked up her shawl and went up on deck. Why hadn’t she remembered to take things slowly this morning?

  She stood by the rail and felt better for the fresh air blowing in her face. Narrowing her eyes against the sun, she saw a faint smudge in the east that could only be land. A little closer to the ship was a lighthouse standing on another piece of low-lying land. It must be Rottnest Island. And beyond it, Matron had told them, was the port of Fremantle, where they’d disembark.

  Cassandra had a sudden desperate longing to stride out on dry land, to walk for hours on her own and not just shuffle her way round the deck, afraid of bumping into someone.

  Sighing, she went back below to tidy her hair and wait for a summons from Mrs Barrett. There was no sign of Miss Pershore, which was unusual, because her mistress wasn’t an early riser and didn’t normally summon her maid until later.

  When the steward knocked on the door and said Mrs Barrett wanted to see her, he was frowning.

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  He looked at her stomach openly then. ‘I gather there is.’

  Miss Pershore must have been gossiping. Cassandra raised her chin defiantly. ‘It’s not wrong for a married woman, even one who’s been widowed, to be carrying her husband’s child. Some would say it’s a good thing and wish me well.’

  He shrugged. ‘I suppose so. I forget sometimes you’re not really a lady’s maid. You’ve learned the job quickly.’ He moved away, tossing a ‘Good luck!’ over his shoulder.

  Why should she need good luck? Cassandra’s heart sank. What had Miss Pershore done?

  When she was bidden enter the Barretts’ cabin, she found Mr Barrett there with his wife, both of them frowning, their eyes going immediately to her stomach.

  ‘Why did you not tell us you were with child?’ he demanded. ‘Whose is it?’

  She didn’t reply at once, standing very still and telling herself to answer quietly and confidently.

  ‘I’m recently widowed, so whose do you think it is?’ she countered. ‘My husband’s.’

  ‘So you say.’

  ‘I’ll remind you that I was introduced to you by a clergyman. You didn’t pick me up off the street.’

  He ignored that remark. ‘Why have you said nothing about your condition?’

  ‘I didn’t know at first, then I wanted time to grow used to the idea. I hadn’t expected a child, felt sad it would never know its father.’

  ‘I can’t possibly have a maid with a big belly like mine!’ Mrs Barrett said pettishly. ‘Think how people would laugh at the pair of us.’

  ‘My condition isn’t showing yet, and won’t for a while. It hasn’t made me work any less hard, nor will it.’

  ‘I shall have to inform the Captain about this,’ Mr Barrett said.

  She’d had enough of people telling her what to do. ‘Why? What business is it of his?’

  ‘He must inform the authorities when we land. They may even send you back to England. They won’t want you to be a charge on the public purse.’

  ‘I have some money to tide myself over and I’m a hard worker. I’ll be a charge on no one. I also have my sisters, so I won’t be alone. This baby is no one’s business but mine.’ She had a fleeting thought of Reece as she spoke, because it affected him too, but knew she mustn’t let herself be distracted so clamped her lips tightly together.

  ‘Leave us alone, Simon. Please? There are things women can only say to one another when men aren’t present.’

  When he’d gone, Mrs Barrett looked at her and sighed. ‘I’m sorry you won’t be able to stay with me after we land, Lawson. You’ve worked hard and I’ve grown used to you.’

  Not much of a compliment, thought Cassandra mutinously. ‘Can I not stay with you until my condition begins to show, at least, to earn a little more money?’

  Mrs Barrett hesitated. ‘We’d decided not, but it must be dreadful to face this alone, so I’ll think about it. I don’t know what I’d do without Simon to look after me at a time like this.’

  Cassandra bent her head, feeling tears well in her eyes. ‘I’d not expected to be having a child on my own, either. But I’ll look after it carefully and love it, because it’ll never know its father.’

  Mrs Barrett dabbed at her eyes. ‘How sad. And that Pershore creature is a mean old stick. It was she who approached my husband on deck and told him. She didn’t even have the courtesy to come to me first.’

  ‘She’s not been an easy woman to share a cabin with, but I don’t understand why she wishes me ill. I’ve done nothing to harm her, have always treated her politely.’

  ‘Have you looked in the mirror lately?’

  ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am?’

  Mrs Barrett waved one hand towards the mirror that stood on top of the cabin trunk. ‘Look at yourself.’

  She moved across the room. ‘I don’t see anything different.’

  ‘You’re glowing with health and though you’ll never be pretty, not with that nose, you look handsome.’ She came to stand beside the maid and studied their reflections. ‘I’m pretty and have a husband who loves me, so I don’t need to envy you. Miss Pershore is ugly and has never been loved, so she envies you greatly.’

  ‘Oh.’ Cassandra cast another quick look at herself. She’d never spent a lot of time in front of the mirror, but had to agree that she was looking well. The sunny days on board ship had lent colour to her cheeks and the good food had given her back her womanly figure.

  ‘You never talk about your husband.’

  ‘It’s too – painful. If I dwell on the past, I’ll be lost.’

  Mrs Barrett sighed. ‘How brave you are! I’ll give you a good reference. And you can still keep Hilda’s trunk. I don’t like to think of a child wanting. Since I shall still need help, you can stay with me for a few weeks after we disembark. But I can’t have you as a maid once your condition shows. It’d make me a cause for ridicule if there were two of us in the family way.’

  What a strange reason on which to base a decision! Cassandra thought. But she thanked her mistress, saying how grateful she was for this generosity.

  It was terrible to have to be so deceitful, in large ways as well as small, but she was fighting for her own and the child’s future now, and would do whatever she had to.

  As for Miss Pershore, she would ignore the woman completely. It might make things uncomfortable in the cabin, but it wouldn’t be for long now.

  When she went back to the Barretts’ cabin in the afternoon, Cassandra found Mr Barrett waiting for her again, his expression no more friendly than it had been last time. His wife looked sulky.

  And in the middle of the floor was Hilda’s trunk.

  ‘Open it, if you please,’ Mr Barrett said, pointing.

  ‘Could I ask why?’

  ‘Because we never did check what was in it, which may have been hasty of us. I want to look through it now, before you take it away. There may be things of value in it.’

  She felt outraged. ‘I don’t think that’s necessary, sir. There was nothing valuable. I’d have told you if there were.’

  He glared at her. ‘If you don’t open it, I’ll send for the Captain and get him to do it.’

  Furious, she pulled out the key, which was on a chain round her neck. ‘There are some of my own things in that trunk.’ She’d put her money there because Hilda’s trunk had a better lock.

  When she opened it, he pushed her aside, pulling out the contents and tumbling them on the table and floor, not caring whether they got creased or dirtied by this rough treatment.

  ‘Aha!’ He pounced on her purse.

  ‘That’s mine, sir.’

  ‘So you say.’ He poured out the coins it contained on the table and counted them, then stared at her. ‘No wonder you wanted to keep me away from this. I’m sending for the Captain. You’re nothing but a thief.’

  ‘We gave her the trunk, Simon.’

  ‘Not Hilda’s savings, though. It isn’t right to take them.’


  ‘The money is mine!’ Cassandra protested again.

  ‘So you say. But I don’t believe you.’ He rang for the steward and then they waited for the Captain to arrive.

  The message about theft brought him quickly, even at a busy time like this, and he stared in surprise at the mess in the cabin.

  Simon pointed to Cassandra. ‘This woman is a thief!’

  ‘I’m not! That’s my own money and you gave me the trunk.’

  Mrs Barrett went to stand by Cassandra. ‘We did give her the trunk, Captain.’

  ‘But not the money,’ Mr Barrett insisted. ‘We said if there was any money in it, that would have to be returned to our former maid.’

  ‘But there wasn’t any money in it. That’s my savings!’

  ‘Can you prove it?’

  Her mind wasn’t functioning and for a minute she stared at him, then desperation made her rack her brain and she suddenly cried, ‘Yes! The woman who gave me most of that money is in Western Australia. She’ll tell you.’

  ‘How can she have given you the money if she lives there?’ the Captain demanded.

  ‘She sailed out on the Eena earlier this year.’

  ‘A fine tale!’ Mr Barrett scoffed.

  ‘Wait!’ The Captain held up his hand. ‘There is a ship called the Eena and it did sail for Western Australia earlier this year. What’s this woman’s name?’

  Cassandra gave him the details, praying that Mrs Southerham would still be in the colony.

  ‘In the meantime, I’ll keep the money,’ the Captain said, putting the bag of coins into his pocket.

  ‘If you please, sir, I’d appreciate it if we could count the money and you could give me a receipt.’

  He gaped at her. ‘Impudence! Do you think I’m going to steal it?’

  ‘No, sir. Of course not. But it’s simple good sense. That money is all I have in the world. It’s safe with you, I know, but if anything were to happen to you, who would know the money belonged to me?’

  ‘Hmm. Very well. You have a point. Count it out again.’

  After this had been done, he looked at her thoughtfully, then said, ‘When the others disembark, you are to stay behind, Mrs Lawson. You’ll be escorted to the Migrants’ Home and will stay there until we hear from this Mrs Southerham.’ He nodded to the Barretts and took his leave.

 

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