Haunted Creek

by Ann Cliff

  ‘Let’s sing,’ Rose suggested to the children, who were wide-eyed with fear. ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little star …’ One by one, the children joined in, even Lizzie who sang out of tune. ‘Up above the world so high …’ The little voices sometimes rose above the roar of the wind. Over and over they went through their sewing room songs, clinging on to something familiar.

  ‘Girl dear—’ Maeve began, as the door burst open and one of the men rushed in. Behind him they could see the inferno; Rose shut her eyes. The end must be close now. One of the children began to cry and Rose stretched out and held her close. The rest went steadily on: ‘Up above the world so high …’

  The man gasped and coughed and Maeve gave him a drink of water. ‘Wind’s changed. Fire’s within a few yards, but it’s being blown back, away from us. Let’s hope wind holds.’ He staggered outside again.

  ‘Saints be praised, we might have a chance!’ Maeve turned to Rose with a sob of relief. It would take a miracle to save them but it might just happen. Rose allowed herself a deep sigh. ‘Twinkle, twinkle …’ the song went on.

  There was movement in and out, as men took it in turns to come in for a drink. They said they were putting out spot fires all round the building, started by flying embers.

  After a while the air cleared a little, as outside the wind blew the smoke away. Boris lit the lamps and made pots of tea and Rose looked round the room. Twenty or thirty grimy people with relief on their faces were slumped on the benches. The immediate danger was over.

  It was a few days before Rose could go back up the track beside the creek. As soon as people could move about, fathers came on horseback to collect their children, very thankful to find them safe and well. Mr Sawley had told them where Rose and the class had gone. ‘You’ll have a sad time,’ one man told Rose, but said no more. She waited until all the children except Ada had gone and then saddled up Dougal for the journey home.

  Maeve was still a tragic figure, going about her work without a spark of her normal self. ‘If you hear anything about Jasper, let me know,’ she begged everybody that went out. ‘If he’d been alive he would have been back here by now,’ she said mournfully.

  Rose made her way slowly back through an alien world. The sun filtered through bare branches. Trees were black skeletons, the ground was covered in ash and no birds sang. Only the creek was the same, making its placid way down to the river, a small fringe of green on the banks. ‘It was a big fire, Mama,’ Ada said, looking round from her perch on the donkey’s back. ‘Where did all the birdies go?’

  ‘I think they flew away, Ada. I hope they’ll come back one day.’

  When they came to her home clearing, Rose could hardly recognize the place. The hut and the cabin were gone. There was nothing left except smouldering ruins. Ada sat wide-eyed and Rose had to fight back tears. She had hated the hut at first but it had been her home and the few things she’d possessed were there. Her memories were mainly happy ones.

  There was movement on a stump and Rose looked down to find a huge spider staring at her, one of That Spider’s family. ‘Hello, you’re alive!’ Who thought she would ever be pleased to see a huntsman spider?

  ‘We’ll find somewhere else to live,’ Rose told Ada gently. There was a little money but not enough for a house. What was she to do, a lone woman with nowhere to go? The child was shocked, and no wonder. Ada needed reassurance.

  Who among her neighbours had survived? It was eerily quiet. Perhaps she and Ada were the only ones left. Feeling the shock and the strain of the last week overwhelming her, Rose stood in the ruins for some minutes. Her mind was a blank.

  The child tugged at her hand and for Ada’s sake Rose shook herself out of the trance. Something had to be done. From here they would go up the track with the donkey to Wattle Tree, to see whether anyone was there. But first, painful though it was, Rose decided to sift through the ashes where the cabin had once been. There might be some relic left, some twisted keepsake from the past. She moved aside a tangle of tree branches and started in horror. There was somebody here … a man was standing in the ruins. Possibly a thief.

  A second look and Rose saw a figure bowed down with grief, holding the charred remains of her blue dress, the one she’d worn at school on the day of the fire. Somebody here was mourning for her, thinking she had died in the fire. Somebody cared; she was not alone after all. Quietly, she went up to Erik and put her arms round him. ‘I’m here,’ she said gently. He didn’t react at first.

  Erik looked years older than when she’d last seen him, with singed hair and ragged clothes. His eyes lit up and his whole face changed when he realized that although the hut was gone, Rose and Ada were alive. He was speechless, but he took them both in his arms and hugged them tightly. Rose felt the old surge of love. Erik was alive; that was all that mattered. ‘You’re here, too, thank goodness.’

  ‘I was sure you were dead. That was the dress you were wearing …’ They clung to each other.

  ‘All the trees are dead, Mr Jensen,’ Ada said wistfully.

  Erik squatted down to be level with the child. ‘Not dead, Ada. A lot of Australian trees wake up again after a fire, they put out green branches. And the tiny seeds in the earth will soon sprout and grow more … a fire gets them going.’ He looked up at Rose. ‘It’s true, fire makes some plants germinate. This land of yours will regenerate quite quickly, you know.’

  ‘I hope so.’ Ada wandered off to look at the ruin of the garden. Rose and Erik held each other, with no words.

  Eventually Erik said, ‘I think you know how much I love you. We should have been together long ago. Only this week did I realize how wrong I’ve been, leaving you to fend for yourself.’

  Now was the time to overcome his shyness, to break down the barriers while emotions were still raw. Gently pulling away from him, Rose considered what to say. ‘Erik, I was never involved with Jasper Barrington.’ She took a deep breath. ‘It was unconventional to look after him in my home, but necessary. He’s a decent man, he would have died if I hadn’t cared for him.’

  Erik was listening. ‘I thought you were … committed. I know how loyal you are.’ He hesitated. ‘I’ve just found out the truth.’ He kissed her gently. ‘My darling Rose, I’ll never leave you again. We’ll rebuild our lives together.’ He looked down at her, more his old self. ‘The school has gone, Freda’s house too, but my new house – it’s empty but still standing. The fire went round my new block of land – a lot of it was ploughed and I think that saved it. We’ve been lucky … the fire swept down to the creek but it missed Sawleys and the shop, and the donkeys survived. And do you know, your goats came up the hill – they’re at my place.’ He took a deep breath. ‘We have the land, we can start again. Can’t we, Ada?’

  The child had come back and inserted herself between them. ‘Mr Jensen, do you want to marry Mama? She’s not going to marry Lordy, he’s going to marry someone else. Can I come to your wedding?’

  ‘I’m going to marry your mama as soon as I can, if she’ll have me. But for now … how would you like to camp out in an empty house, Ada?’ Erik was bubbling with joy. ‘We can all camp until we get some furniture.’

  Ada smiled, a wise smile for so young a child. ‘And the birdies and possums will soon come back.’

  That night they sat on the veranda of Erik’s new house. His land was an oasis in a sea of blackened stumps. Erik had bought some bread, cheese and apples from the store for them to eat. ‘There’s been no loss of life, as far as I know. You’ve accounted for all the children … everybody had time to get out. My horses and dogs are here, the sheep are scattered, but I hope to get them back eventually. It could have been a lot worse. I thought it was a lot worse, when I found your dress,’ he whispered.

  They were quiet for a while, exhausted. Ada went to sleep and the first stars came out. Erik stirred eventually and took Rose in his arms as the moon came up and turned his blond hair to silver. ‘Please marry me, Rose. We must never be apart again. Ada has it all planned –
we mustn’t disappoint her! But is it possible? Do you love me?’ He held her at arm’s length and looked into her eyes. He was not taking her for granted, even now.

  ‘I’ve loved you from the start, Erik,’ Rose confessed. It had been hidden, locked away for so long. She shivered. ‘Erik, I’d forgotten … I might not be able to marry, after all. Luke may still be alive. He could have, well, gone off to start a new life.’

  Erik reached over and held her hand. ‘He didn’t, Rose. He’s dead. It was bound to upset you so I didn’t tell you. But I know what happened.’

  ‘How on earth could you know?’ Was he trying to smooth it over for her? Rose couldn’t understand him.

  ‘Not long after Luke died, I wanted some dowelling and so I rode over to see the Noojee carpenter. And old Fred was very subdued. He makes the coffins for the district, you see … he says you get used to the job. But one particular death had upset him so much, he couldn’t forget about it. A poor lad that was killed by a falling tree.’ Erik paused and Rose looked into the distance. ‘It was Luke all right, he even remembered the name. And he says he’ll never forget the sight of the body.’

  There was silence for a while and then Rose sighed. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I should add that Fred told me all this without any questions on my part … but it proves that Luke didn’t just abandon you. He met with an accident – may he rest in peace.’

  Goodbye, Luke, forgive me for thinking badly of you. Rose sat quietly hand in hand with Erik, looking at the night sky. ‘Twinkle, twinkle …’ still echoed in her head.

  ‘Just one thing,’ Rose said hesitantly after a while. ‘Do you happen to have seen Lord Barrington?’

  ‘You’re worried about him? He and I sheltered together from the fire – we got into my biggest dam,’ Erik said, looking at Rose. ‘I gave him a ride from Moe and the man was keen to mend your reputation. In a delicate way, he let me know why he was at your house … and why it happened that you had your arms round his waist, one night when I came to see you. Just bandaging, that was all.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘I must say he was very cool when the fire came right over our heads. Kept on talking about fishing, except when we ducked under the water.’

  ‘Goodness me, that sounds dangerous. You saw me bandage him? No wonder you thought the worst.’ Rose sighed. ‘But Maeve Malone is grieving. She thinks he’s dead.’

  Erik laughed. ‘Oh, yes. He’s waiting a bit longer to soften her up, make her worry a bit. And he thinks that when he does turn up, then she’ll give in and marry him. I always knew he was a rogue … a charming rascal.’

  The night was warm and scents were rising from the shrubs beside the house. Hand in hand, they wandered through the garden down to a little lake, fringed by weeping willows. ‘Water for the garden,’ Erik explained. ‘But I wanted it to look beautiful as well. I always imagined that you would share it with me, one day.’

  They stood looking at the moon on the water and Rose said, ‘Let’s bathe.’

  It seemed quite natural to take off their clothes and go into the water. Erik swam a few strokes and then came back to Rose. The water was cool on her skin and she felt that the past was being washed away, along with the dirt and ash of the fire. Moonlight danced on the surface, reflections broken by their movement. I will always remember this moment.

  Laughing, they floated together and then Erik took her hand and they came out of the enchanted pool. Water streamed from their bodies and Rose watched their moonlit shadows on the grass as they moved together and merged. There was no need for guilt, no need to draw back.

  By the same author

  Moorland Lass

  Bitter Inheritance

  Yorkshire Rose

  Lavender Girl

  Summer by the Sea

  Shadows on the Moor

  Copyright

  © Ann Cliff 2012

  First published in Great Britain 2011

  This edition 2012

  ISBN 978 0 7198 0845 6 (epub)

  ISBN 978 0 7198 0846 3 (mobi)

  ISBN 978 0 7198 0847 0 (pdf)

  ISBN 978 0 7090 9275 9 (print)

  Robert Hale Limited

  Clerkenwell House

  Clerkenwell Green

  London EC1R 0HT

  www.halebooks.com

  The right of Ann Cliff to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988