Farewell to Lancashire

by Anna Jacobs

  Mr Barrett pointed to the contents of the trunk. ‘Put this stuff back, Lawson, then we’ll lock up the trunk and send it back to the hold. You’re not to come into our cabin on your own from now on.’

  Cassandra deliberately took her time repacking her things and in the end he grew bored and left her to it, with his wife supervising.

  ‘It is your money, isn’t it?’ Mrs Barrett said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m sorry. He – gets the bit between his teeth sometimes.’

  ‘I’m sorry too. I’ve served you well, worked hard and this is a poor reward for my efforts.’

  ‘It was that Pershore creature again. She told him she’d seen you counting money and was worried you’d stolen it. And indeed, there has been a lot of pilfering by the single women during this voyage.’

  ‘I’ve never stolen anything in my life. Never.’

  When she’d finished repacking her things, Mrs Barrett rang for the steward, but he said the sailors were too busy preparing for arrival at Fremantle and the trunk must stay where it was.

  Mrs Barrett yawned. ‘I need a nap. You may go, Lawson.’

  Cassandra went up on deck. Her sisters found her and at last, with them, she gave in to the tears she’d held back in front of her accuser.

  They were horrified about what had happened, murmuring words of consolation. None of them knew what would happen after the ship docked and they were all anxious about the future.

  Would nothing ever go right for her? Cassandra wondered. And would this accusation once again separate her from her sisters?

  And what if Mrs Southerham couldn’t be found and she lost her money? How would she manage to get her money back then?

  Or would they send her back to England?

  The first few days at the new farm passed very quickly. Livia made light of having to do the household chores, but Reece could tell Francis hated to see his wife doing such menial work.

  He held his tongue about their current situation, but in his opinion, his employer was going about everything wrongly. They’d need to build additions on to the shack before the winter came, but Francis had said nothing about doing that and seemed more concerned to make sure that shade was provided (in the form of a tarpaulin strung between trees) for the two horses and was talking about building them a stable for the winter.

  It was Reece who cobbled an outdoor table together from pieces of the wooden crates holding the furniture. Livia needed something to prepare food on, and they all needed it for eating. The shack itself was too full of boxes and packing cases to be used as a dining room, and even the small veranda was crammed with boxes still to be unpacked.

  He just prayed people he’d talked to were right and it wouldn’t rain until about March or April.

  As the first week drew to a close, he waited until they’d finished a meal, then said, ‘I presume it’s still all right for me to take Sundays off? I’ve an invitation to visit our neighbour tomorrow.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing, associating with a convict like Lynch?’ Francis asked. ‘You don’t want people thinking you’re one of them.’

  ‘I like Kevin and he’s an emancipist now, with his full freedom,’ Reece said. He’d walked over to visit their neighbour a couple of times in the evenings without telling them, and today he was going to ask Kevin’s help in finding a piece of land to lease. Reece definitely couldn’t afford to buy anything. He hadn’t said anything to the Southerhams about that either, though. Time enough if he decided to take the risk.

  He set off after breakfast, feeling relieved to get away for a while. He’d asked permission to take a chunk of kangaroo meat for his host. They always had to throw away part of the carcass because it went rotten so quickly in the heat, so Livia had been happy to give it to him.

  He was finding it harder and harder to think of them by their surnames when they all lived so closely. They’d probably be annoyed if they knew that. They were always pleasant and polite with him, but it never seemed to occur to them that he might be lonely. Or that he too would like to sit and rest near the fire in the evenings without being asked to ‘just’ do this or ‘just’ fetch that. Which was why he went to bed early, lying in the narrow space in the stores tent, feeling as if he was stifling.

  If he’d stayed around on his day off, they’d not have left him in peace, he knew that.

  Kevin was waiting for him, sitting on the veranda of his small but comfortable house.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Reece asked. ‘You look pale.’

  ‘I’m feeling my age. And I never did like the hot weather. I’ll revive like a flower once it starts raining.’

  Reece wasn’t so sure. The other looked ill, not tired. He wondered how old his neighbour was. Nearer sixty than fifty, he’d guess. ‘I brought you some meat.’

  ‘Now that’ll be useful. I’m not so spry with the hunting as I used to be. Will we be having a cup of tea before we set off to look at the land round here?’

  ‘Good idea.’

  Kevin had a small trap and an ugly but willing horse to pull it, so Reece harnessed it for him, another skill he’d learned in Australia.

  After watching to make sure he was doing it right, Kevin slapped the little mare on the shoulder. ‘You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Delilah?’ She nuzzled him and when he pulled a piece of sugar out of his pocket, she licked it up delicately from his hand.

  ‘Delilah?’ Reece teased. ‘What sort of name is that for a horse?’

  ‘She tempted me to buy her when I’d intended to buy a bigger, stronger horse. Her owner was ill-treating her. They’re terrible hard on horses in this country. And it turned out all right. She’s got stamina, that one has, for all her lack of looks, and will pull her heart out if you ask her.’

  ‘Are we going far?’ Reece asked.

  ‘Not very far.’

  The land they saw was as parched as the rest of the countryside round here. Kevin pointed out advantages to look for, like a permanent stream or spring, and some good timber that could be felled and sold.

  ‘I don’t call these streams,’ Reece said at one of their halts. ‘They’re mere trickles.’

  ‘They’ll gush along fiercely once the winter rains start. See how this one’s eaten away a gully for itself. Worth a lot, a stream is. Does your master have one?’

  ‘No. But there’s a spring and we found a well the other day at the lower end. Nearly fell into it, just looked like a pile of old planks. But I fixed up the roller again and made a wall of the planks. We had some rope and a bucket. The water’s a bit brackish, but it’s all right.’

  ‘Southerham’s not a farmer, is he?’

  ‘No. It’s horses he likes, and the outdoor life. I think he confused the two things in his own mind.’ They were silent for a moment or two, then he asked, ‘How much will I have to pay for land?’

  ‘You lease it by the acre.’

  ‘And I’d need to put a dwelling on it.’

  ‘You can make do with a bark hut at first. I’ll show you which trees to strip.’

  Reece hesitated, but felt comfortable to confide in his neighbour. ‘I’m hoping to bring out my young lady, so I’ll need some of my money for her fare. A man needs a wife and ... she’s a wonderful woman. But I still owe over a year of service to the Southerhams.’

  ‘I’ve got a few ideas you might like to consider. Shall we go back to my place to discuss them? I’m growing tired and this heat is getting me down.’

  ‘Shall I take over the reins?’

  ‘That’d be grand. And if you’d pass me that old umbrella, I’ll shade myself from the sun.’

  When they were sitting on Kevin’s veranda, sipping tea from big half pint mugs, he said, ‘I could do with some company here, Reece lad. I’m having a bit of trouble keeping up with things, I must admit. It’s more than the heat. It’s old age. It’s not good to grow old alone.’ He let the words sink in then added quietly, ‘I could lease you some land. We’d do it properly. I’d
lease it you for five years, and I’d not do it for money, but in return for you looking after me.’

  Reece stared at him, taken aback by this.

  ‘I’ve got a spare bedroom, had some hopes once that one of my nephews might come out here, but he didn’t. And we can push out the living room a bit to give us more space for the winter. It’s not hard to add on to a wooden house. It rains awful hard in the winter. I’ve got some rough slabs of timber lying there ready. They’ll do just fine if you trim them up a bit.’

  Reece answered obliquely, because it seemed so sad that a man had to pay someone to look after him. ‘Do you hear from your family still? Would they not send someone out to care for you?’

  ‘No. My wife died before she could come out to join me. We didn’t have any children and my other relatives, even those I felt close to, aren’t very proud of being connected to a convict.’ He sighed and stared into space for a few moments. ‘’Tis a cruel thing to do, transporting a man for the term of his natural life.’

  Reece waited a minute, watching Kevin stare into the distance. When the other looked back at him, he said, ‘It’s a kind offer. Are you sure?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘I wonder ...’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, it’s only a few minutes’ walk to your place across the side of the hill. Could I come and stay with you straight away? I’ve only got a corner of a tent at the moment.’

  Kevin studied him, then smiled. ‘I’d like that fine.’

  ‘I’ll help you round the place in return.’

  ‘Will they let you do it?’

  Reece smiled. ‘I don’t think they’ll dare refuse. Help isn’t easy to find. And there’s no law saying servants have to live in.’

  But when he got back and told them what he intended to do, Francis did protest.

  ‘But we need you here.’

  ‘I’m a servant, not a slave,’ Reece said mildly.

  ‘But ... servants usually live in.’

  ‘Would you leave an old man to struggle on his own? And am I not to have any time off?’

  There was an uncomfortable silence then Livia stepped in. ‘Is Mr Lynch really struggling?’

  ‘Yes, he is, Mrs Southerham. He has no one to help him.’

  ‘Why you?’

  ‘He and I get on well, have done from the very first meeting. Sometimes you do take to a person easily, don’t you?’ As he had with Cassandra. He banished the thought of her and added, ‘And a tent isn’t the most comfortable place to sleep. What’s more, if I move out of it, you’ll have more room to store your own things and can make a bit of space in your house.’

  It was a gross exaggeration to call the place a house. Even ‘shack’ was a polite word. But Francis still wasn’t making plans to repair it, kept saying he’d keep that job for the convicts he was going to put in for when he was ready for them. He did mark out the timber he wanted to fell to earn money, or rather he and Reece started marking the trees and Reece finished it when Francis grew too hot and sweaty.

  He spent most of his time with the horses, who were surely the best cared for in the colony. Reece suspected Francis was already finding he’d made another mistake.

  What he couldn’t make the Southerhams understand was that the winter rains would find every leak in the rusty tin roof.

  After watching Livia struggle to work in the hot sun without complaining, Reece suggested to Francis that they string up a tarpaulin to make a roof over the area round the rough wooden table. He’d only to say, ‘Mrs Southerham needs the shelter’ and Francis immediately turned his attention to the task. But Reece had to take charge of doing it, because Francis had no idea how to set about it and his suggestions would lead to a structure that would blow down in the first strong wind.

  They worked in heat that was like a hammer striking down on you in the middle of the day. None of them had ever experienced weather like this.

  ‘You’re a very practical man,’ Livia said as Reece waited under the tarpaulin for her to serve his midday meal. She gestured above them. ‘This has made a big difference to me.’ She glanced across at the horse shelter where her husband was checking on their two steeds and smiled. ‘My Francis isn’t as practical as you, but once we get our convict servants, I’m sure we’ll get more things done round here. He’s hoping to arrange that while we’re up in Perth.’

  Reece had his doubts about how that would work out. From what he’d heard, convict servants were not particularly skilled at building, or anything else, and had to be carefully watched. Men forced into doing things were never the best workers. ‘Well, at least Mr Southerham keeps us in meat with his shooting.’

  ‘And even then, you were the one who thought of digging a pit and keeping the meat in the cooler layers of soil underneath the surface.’

  ‘Kevin told me about that.’

  ‘Our neighbour?’

  ‘Yes. He’s an intelligent man, born a gentleman. If he wasn’t an ex-convict, you’d like him.’

  ‘But he is an ex-convict.’

  He knew better than to push the point. For them, there were gentry and others in the world. They might be friendly towards those they considered inferior, but they’d not deal with ex-convicts if they could help it, even if it was to their advantage. He preferred to judge each man on his own merits – and each woman too.

  Francis came across to join them, washing his hands in the bucket, and she served the food: damper and kangaroo meat stew from the previous day’s kill. The potatoes were starting to sprout and she’d talked about throwing them away.

  ‘Why not plant them,’ Reece suggested. ‘There’s nothing like growing your own food.’

  ‘With potatoes so cheap, it’s not worth it,’ Francis said with a grimace.

  ‘Then give them to me once they’re useless to you and I’ll plant them on Kevin’s block.’

  Francis shrugged. ‘Take them if you wish.’ He ate another mouthful, sighing as he stared down at his plate. ‘I heard before we left Perth that there’s a ship due to arrive in mid-December. I’m going up to see if I can find a maid from it to help Livia, and I’ll collect my convicts at the same time.’

  ‘I’m coming with you, then,’ she said at once. ‘I’d rather choose my own servants.’

  ‘Can you look after things here while we’re gone, Reece? We’ll take the cart and leave you with one horse.’

  ‘I need to go into Perth too. I’ve a very important letter to post and I need to buy a few things. I’m going to be leasing some land from Kevin and I want to build a house on it.’

  They both stopped eating to stare at him.

  ‘Are you sure that’s wise?’ Francis asked. ‘It won’t be your own land. You could be wasting your money.’

  ‘I’ll use mainly bark. The house won’t cost much. Kevin’s going to show me how.’

  ‘When will you do that?’

  ‘On Sundays.’

  ‘I hope you won’t come back exhausted to your main job.’

  ‘Have you had any reason to complain so far? I’ve been working to level the building area already.’

  ‘I thought you were living with Kevin. Are you not getting on with him?’ Livia asked.

  ‘I need to have somewhere for my wife to come to – if she’ll have me. That’s why the letter is so important.’

  ‘Cassandra?’

  ‘Who else?’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll accept you,’ Livia said warmly.

  ‘It’ll be at least a year till she can join me, perhaps more, and I’ll have to work out how to send her the money for her passage. I’ve been saving my wages carefully.’

  Livia smiled. ‘I left her some money, enough to pay for her passage. Maybe she’ll come a bit sooner.’

  Reece wished he felt as certain that his proposal would be accepted. He alternated between doubt and hope. Sadly, Edwin Blake would have died by now, must have done, so surely Cassandra would allow herself to think of her own future? Or would she refuse to leave her sis
ters?

  It made him sad to think how long it would take for his letter to reach her, and then for her reply to reach him. He’d heard the phrase ‘the ends of the Earth’ but he’d never expected to find himself there, hadn’t realised how isolated the Swan River Colony was, how few people were living here.

  Francis’s cousin had a lot to answer for, writing lies about this place.

  On the other hand, Reece liked it here, enjoyed the freer life and felt excited about the opportunities he was starting to see for himself. He even liked the warmer climate, something he’d never experienced before. The sun shone day after day and you never needed a coat. Something in him responded cheerfully to that bright warmth. He’d already known he could never go back to working in a mill again, now he knew he would never want to go back to cool, rainy Lancashire.

  18

  A few hours after passing the island of Rottnest, the Tartar anchored in Gage’s Roads, a sheltered stretch of water about half a mile from the shore. The town of Fremantle lay before them, tantalisingly close, yet still out of reach.

  ‘There isn’t a harbour!’ Xanthe exclaimed in surprise. ‘Just long piers.’

  ‘I heard there’s a sand bar at the mouth of the river, so only smaller ships can go up to Perth.’ Pandora sighed. ‘Isn’t it frustrating? I’m dying to see our new – home.’ It was an effort to call it that. Home to her would always be Outham. She couldn’t even discuss the pain of leaving it with her sisters. It still hurt too much.

  ‘There’s a lot of forest and not many buildings,’ Maia said. ‘I thought it’d be much bigger than this. And what’s that big white building on top of the hill?’

  ‘A prison.’

  ‘I suppose they would need a big prison if they send convicts here, though Matron says most of them aren’t locked away, but are out working on new roads and other improvements. Or they’ve been given a ticket-of-leave, as long as they behave.’ She frowned. ‘Do you suppose such men are dangerous?’