Forgiving Michael Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Stoney Creek, June, 1862

Hamlet rose from the table as Norah entered the room. His face was dark with anger.  He barely nodded to Norah as he walked quickly towards the back door. 

     ‘Don't mind him,’ Kathryn said quietly. ‘He's had words with James. They'll work it out. Now, tell me about your trip to Bathurst and let me see this wee pet. How's he going?’

     Norah pulled back the rug from the tiny face of her baby son. ‘He's bonny…William George…two months old now and all registered. He's doing just fine. Oh, Kathryn, I still feel so badly for you, so I do…two more precious...’ Tears welled in Norah's eyes.  ‘Every time I think of it, I feel sick to my stomach. I was so frightened for you.’

     ‘I'm fine now, really I am,’ Kathryn said. ‘We're sad, but Hamlet and I are grateful. I saw the doctor again just a few days ago and he said it's a miracle I survived the pregnancy. If Hamlet hadn't got me into the hospital in Bathurst when he did, I'd probably not be here so we're thankful for that. He had warned us it was unlikely I'd be able to carry two babies to term and it was just way too early, so it was. Two little boys...’ Her eyes overflowed, tears glistening on her eyelashes and she sat for moments before she was able to speak again.

     ‘That's it for us now. The doctor said we must resign ourselves to no more. It would be too dangerous for me. Hamlet’s been very worried, but he's well into his fifties now and content to raise the ones we've got. And I'm over forty. I've not the strength I had when I was young. I count our blessings and I trust that God knows best. The little ones are with Him and I must be satisfied with that. Now, tell me about Bathurst.’

     ‘It was such a bustle,’ Norah started. ‘Lots of carriages, shops and pubs and people everywhere. So noisy, especially when the Cobb & Co coaches came in. Such a procession, it seemed like miles of them. With Bathurst being their headquarters now, the whole town turned out to give them a fanfare I'm sure. Some of the buildings are grand too. We saw St Michael and St John's Cathedral. It was just opened last year. They use the old church building for a school now. Imagine children being able to go to a real school. That would be so wonderful.’ She paused and looked down at baby William, wondering if her children would ever get to attend school. 

     ‘Some of the houses are very fancy,’ she continued. ‘Red brick and lots of wrought iron, all very lacy and pretty. Tis quite the city, so it is. But there's a stench there, Kathryn. Hard to describe, it is. A mixture of food smells along with horse droppings and smoke from the fires and the smell of so many people breathing whisky and sweating. Quite awful, really. I'm a country girl at heart now.’

     She sighed deeply and smiled at Kathryn. ‘I'd forgotten how bad it was living in Sydney, and they say it's gotten worse there. A cesspool, I heard one man say, with many of the buildings fit only to be burnt…not the grand ones, you know, but the houses around the Rocks area. They say there's so much fighting and debauchery going on that even the police are afraid to go in there alone. People being robbed all the time…and murdered. Tom read about that in the papers just recently. Surely it would be much the same in parts of Bathurst. There's so many making money from the gold fields. Tis just not safe. I love it out here in the quiet where we can grow our vegetables and fruit. But Michael…well, it's just not for him.’

     ‘He's not taken off again, has he?’ Kathryn looked annoyed.

     ‘He wants to move into Bathurst for good. He loves all that bustle and noise, the shops and of course, the pubs. He's got money. He exchanged a nugget, a pretty big one, it seemed to me. I think he's had it since he was away last. He waits, you know, before he gets them exchanged because…oh, Kathryn, some poor miner out there, struggling to live in the squalor of the gold field camps, and along comes Michael and...’ Norah hugged the baby to her breast and rocked, the tears flowing down her cheeks. 

     Kathryn reached out and patted her on the shoulder.

     ‘And then I feel bad,’ Norah continued, ‘for he bought me bolts of cloth to make new skirts and shirts for me and the children. He knows I struggle to keep us in things that are patched a dozen times. But I do hate to think where the money comes from.’

     ‘He's a rogue, to be sure, Norah. Some day he'll be caught, and who knows how bad that will be for you and the children. You won't move into town, will you?’

     ‘No.’ Norah shook her head, sniffing back tears. ‘I told him I'd not go. I don't know if God thinks I'm being disobedient but I just can't. I'd be so afraid.’ Her words faded as Hamlet returned to the room. 

     He took a deep breath and stood before Norah. Before he could speak Kathryn addressed him.

     ‘Norah's telling me that Michael wants to move into Bathurst but she doesn't want to go.’

     ‘I was just saying how afraid I'd be of what he might get up to if we lived there,’ Norah added.

     ‘Well there's no doubt what he'd be up to,’ Hamlet said. ‘Wandering the streets at night, looking for what he could lay his hands on, that's what he'd be up to. We all know it.’

     ‘Hamlet!’ Kathryn seemed shocked at his bluntness.

     ‘It's alright, Kathryn.’ Norah shook her head. ‘Tis true, sure enough. I've given up hoping Michael will change. I think he's damaged…in his mind. I've tried to understand and can only think that it's because he's had to fend for himself since he was a child. No one ever looked after him, or believed in him. I've tried to bring the best out in him all these years, but I've not been able to…not for more than a few months at a time. Do you think some people are damaged beyond repair?’

     ‘His past is no excuse for his present behaviour,’ Hamlet said firmly. ‘He's had years as a grown man to make different choices. Many of us had to do that.’

     ‘Well, Hamlet, remember you did have your mother who believed in you,’ Kathryn said tentatively. ‘Haven't you often said she was the reason you decided to change your life?’

     Hamlet's face went a darker shade at the mention of his mother.

     ‘And, I think the first person who really believed in me was Norah,’ Kathryn continued, reaching across the table to touch Norah’s arm.

     ‘Well, I've done no good for Michael, have I?’ Norah said sadly. ‘And I worry about the children. What if they're like him and I can do nothing to help them?’ Her eyes welled and she drew baby William close to her breast.

     ‘Now don't be thinking like that,’ Kathryn chided.   

     ‘I don't know which is worse even now,’ Norah said. ‘Him being here with the children, telling them stories that turn their heads, or being away for months at a time when I've no idea what he's up to.’

     ‘Whatever he's up to, tis certain that you're better here…and the children too.’ Kathryn was quick to answer. ‘Here's where you need to be, where you've friends to help you.’

     ‘I think so, too, sure I do. Do you think tis right for me to refuse him?’

     ‘He's not earned the right to have your compliance…nor respect,’ Hamlet interjected.

‘You should do what's right for you and your children…and speaking of the children, I feel I must say something to you. I'm sorry I ignored you when you arrived but I needed to think before I spoke.’

     ‘Hamlet.’ There was a caution in Kathryn’s tone.

      ‘What is it?’ Norah felt disturbed by his comment. ‘Were the children a problem while I was away? I was concerned leaving them with you, sure I was, what with Kathryn still not well, and –’

     ‘They were fine,’ Hamlet cut in. ‘For the most part. It's just Rebecca. We had an incident I think you should know about.’

     Kathryn squirmed in her seat and coughed. 

     ‘No, Kathryn,’ Hamlet persisted. ‘This is just the sort of thing that needs to be addressed early in the girl's life. And if we're to remain friends, then some things need to be said.’

     ‘I know Rebecca can be difficult.’ Norah sighed deeply. ‘Please tell me.’

     ‘I found her and James…in the bushes…carrying on.’ Hamlet lowered himself into a chair as he spoke.

     ‘Carrying on? What do you mean?’

     ‘They were, you know, half undressed and all over each other. I've had strong words to James. He's seventeen and I know what boys are like but he should have known better. It's not how I've taught him to be with girls. He says Rebecca was urging him on, flaunting herself and has been for some time now. I don't want to be hard on Rebecca but I believe him. I've seen her do as much, quite openly.’

     Hamlet took a breath and looked to Kathryn, whose eyes were lowered to her lap. He shook his head and continued.

     ‘The last time she came with us to the Quinns' dance, well, she was quite shameless, not with James but with other young boys, a couple of the Foley boys in particular. And that's a dangerous thing in itself. I've warned James but he says it got the better of him. Anyway, I don't want there to be any such goings on between them. She's eighteen, Norah. It's time she was doing something constructive with her life. She's going to end up in trouble, she is, and I don't want it to be with my son.’

     Norah listened, aghast. ‘I'm so sorry. I've tried to get Rebecca to take up some work.  Michael even pushed her into going to the Quinns and doing some domestic duties but she only lasted a week. They said she wasn't working out. Oh, dear, I feel I've failed her so. I've just not been able to help her be happy.’

     ‘It's not your fault, Norah,’ Hamlet assured her. ‘You've done your best, but she's part Michael, too, isn't she? And she is very like him, I hate to say. I'm not sure what you can do about it. I just wanted you to know what happened with James. I don't want them together again.’

     ‘I understand. Truly I do. I'm really sorry.’

‘He was happy enough about it at the time.’ Rebecca huffed at Norah when confronted with her behaviour. ‘I'm not interested in him anyway. It was just a lark. He's a baby.  I'm just bored, is all.’

     ‘Well, tis time you had useful things for your hands to do. We've found two domestic positions for you and you've not stuck at either of them. I've asked you over and over, Rebecca. Now I'm telling you. There'll be no more lazing about. You'll work here if nowhere else. God knows, I need the help. But we could use some extra money for food and clothes so you really must try and find a position.’

     ‘And who's going to employ me then? Everyone has a low opinion of me…and if not me, then Pa. The Quinns looked down on me like I was dirt under their feet. I'll not stand for that. And I'm not a slave to be bringin' money home for feedin' and clothin' all you. Let Tom do it. He's always been the good boy, hasn't he? Anyway, what clothes do we need? For we're always gettin' things given to us from people at church…and they just feel sorry for us…sorry for you for havin' a husband who doesn't provide. They all look down on us…everybody.’

     Rebecca ran from the hut, across the yard and into the scrub, ignoring Norah's calls to come back.

     Norah turned to Michael. ‘And what good were you to me, then, tell me that? You didn't open your mouth, not even to defend yourself, which surprises me. What are you going to do about that girl? She's your daughter in more ways than one. I don't know what else to do with her.’

     ‘Ah, she's a young woman, so she is.’ Michael sat back in his chair and grinned. ‘She needs to spread her wings, an’ find a good man. An' that won't 'appen 'ere, will it now?  She needs to be in town where there's young men around. Someone better for her than that upstart Pollard. I don't want her settlin' for someone like that. Not that she would, for she 'as better taste and as she said, it were just a lark. Let's not over react now. Best you reconsider my offer to look for somethin' in town. I've the money, you know. We could rent a little place and be real cosy. You think about it, eh?’

     Norah sat heavily onto a stool and put her head into her hands, shutting out a world that was out of control. ‘Show me what to do, God,’ she whispered to herself. ‘Please show me what to do.’

‘It all happened so quickly, Kathryn,’ Norah told her friend a month later. ‘I pray it lasts this time. But she was different about it. We were in Kelso doing some shopping and we tried the inn on the spur of the moment and it so happened that their room maid had just left, apparently got herself pregnant. Rebecca actually jumped at the chance. It's live in, which she's happy about. It's only a couple of miles out of Bathurst proper and there's a lot of people passing. New people, she says, more interesting than farmers. She'll be working hard, sure enough, for she's to change the beds and help in the laundry, washing the sheets, and then serve in the dining room in the evening. I pray she puts her mind to it.’

     ‘Well, this is her chance, isn't it?’ Kathryn nodded hopefully. ‘Let's hope she makes the most of it. We've just settled our Mary Ann at the Quinns in service. She's sixteen now and quite ready to be out of home. She'll make a few shilling for herself and get some good experience and she's very happy about it as well. She'll come home on Mondays for the day.’ Kathryn sighed and shook her head. ‘It seems like yesterday she was just a tiny baby but it's their time now, so it is.’

     ‘That's grand for Mary Ann and you know she'll be safe at the Quinns. Rebecca can come home once a fortnight on a Tuesday, but she didn't seem keen to do that. She thinks life will be more exciting there than here in the bush. So she’ll have to find out for herself that it's not going to be so easy. I'm praying God looks after her, Kathryn, for she'll meet all types in there.’

     ‘I know tis hard to let go but think of yourself at that age, Norah. You were travelling across the world and had to take care of yourself.’

     ‘Sure enough…and the choices I made were not always the best, were they now?’

     ‘Perhaps not but Rebecca must make her own choices and she must learn from them just as you've had to do. We must see this as an answer to prayer, sure we must.’

Tom opened one of the newspapers spread in front of him and cleared his throat. He had been preparing for this for three days. It was now April of 1863 and he had been following the stories of the explorers for the past couple of years, tearing out articles and saving them. He was so keen that his mother use them for her reading classes with the Pollard children, that she had given him the task of presenting the idea to the others.  She had agreed that it would be a great way for them to learn more about what was happening around the country as well as improving their reading skills.

     ‘This one here,’ he started, holding up the article, ‘is from December of 1860, and it tells of Robert Burke and his party setting out from Melbourne in August of that year, to explore all the way to the Gulf of Carpentaria, which is way up at the top of Australia.  There were fourteen men, twenty five camels, horses, and twenty ton of supplies and baggage. Fifteen thousand people cheered them off from Melbourne's Royal Park. The camels went in one line and the horses in another because the horses couldn't stand the smell of the camels. Burke rode in the middle, between the two lines.’

     ‘I'd love to be in an expedition like that,’ fourteen-year-old Johnny exclaimed, seemingly glad now that his mother had insisted he stay with the class today rather than going out with his father and James to move their sheep to another paddock. 

     Tom's young brothers, Joseph and Mickey, now six and five, were not yet interested in learning to read but also sat wide-eyed as Tom talked about the explorers. 

     Norah smiled proudly. ‘Right, Johnny,’ she said, handing him the page. ‘How about you read this article before we see what happened to the explorers.’

     ‘Now,’ Tom continued when Johnny had read all he could. ‘When they got to Cooper's Creek, in northern New South Wales, some of the men made camp to wait while Burke went on with three men; William John Wills, Charles Gray and John King.  The Victorian government wanted to know if there really was a great desert between the north of this state and the northern coast of the country, or perhaps great lakes, where cattle could be raised.’

     ‘So what did they find?’ Elizabeth's eyes glistened with admiration.

     ‘Here, Johnny, you read this,’ Tom invited.

     Johnny took the article and read loudly. ‘The journey to the Gulf took until February 11 – nearly two months.  The bright departure had become a scarcely endurable slog through desert country and arid scrub, punctuated by occasional waterholes and sparse pasture.  The last fifty mile dash for the Gulf had been through soft, sandy country and did not even offer the triumph of reaching the sea.  They noted only a tidal channel amid the mangrove swamps.’

     ‘So what happened to them when they got back to Cooper's Creek?’ Mary asked, clearly wanting to hear a happy ending to the story.

      Johnny began to read again. ‘Cooper's Creek, April 21. Robert O'Hara Burke, William John Wills and John King staggered into their base camp to find it had been abandoned that very morning.  After four months and five days of immense effort, of suffering from hunger, heat and exhaustion, they now had to continue their struggle for survival in the wilderness.’

     ‘But that's only three men’, Mary interrupted. ‘What happened to the other man?’

     ‘Very good, Mary.’ Norah commended her daughter. ‘You're listening well.’

     ‘It seems that Charles Gray got so hungry on the way back that he took some food without sharing it with the others and Burke thrashed him,’ Tom said dramatically.  ‘They were all starving and they had to kill and eat one of their camels and then Burke's horse but Gray got so weak that he died and they buried him out there.’

     The girls gasped in horror but young Joseph and Mickey were completely captivated with the adventure of it.

     ‘But the others came home, didn't they?’ Harriet asked.

     ‘It seems they struck some very bad storms on the way back,’ Tom said patiently.    ‘And then very hot and humid weather so it was hard to walk in the bog and the heat and that's when their supplies started running out and they got so hungry. After Gray died they were still seventy miles from Cooper's Creek and it took all their strength to dig a grave and bury him. They only just made it back to Cooper's Creek and then found the rest of the party had already left. Fortunately they left quite a bit of food at the base camp so they were able to rest and eat.’

     ‘So they were able to come home then?’

     ‘No, Harriet, I'm afraid not. Not all of them. Only King survived.’

     ‘Could I read the next bit?’ Elizabeth smiled coyly at Tom.

     ‘Sure, you can,’ he answered. ‘It's about the rescue party that was sent out. It's pretty scary. Are you sure you want to?’

     In answer Elizabeth took the page he was holding and breathed deeply before she started. 

     ‘Howitt's party discovered John King on September 15. A member of the party came across a group of Aborigines who scattered at his approach. Left behind, a solitary figure, apparently covered with some scarecrow rags, tottered, threw up his hands in the attitude of prayer and fell to the ground.  King led them to Will's shallow grave and Burke's partly eaten body, which they placed in a Union Jack and buried under a box tree.’

     ‘Did the Aborigines eat him?’ gasped Mickey.

     ‘No. Listen to what happened. Go on Elizabeth,’ Norah urged.

     ‘After resting and eating for two days, Burke and his men had set out for home. All went well for a while, but one of their two remaining camels became bogged in quicksand, while the other died of exhaustion. They were befriended by a tribe of Aborigines, who traded fish, some fat rats and a kind of bread made from the seeds of the nardoo plant. They realised they would have to live like the Aborigines for a few months until help came or the season changed.  But the Aborigines disappeared and the three could not gather enough to eat. King was holding out the best but could no longer gather enough seeds for all three men. Burke decided that the only hope was to find the Aborigines. He and King left Wills and began to walk back along the creek but Burke collapsed on the second day and died the next morning. When King got back to Wills he too, was dead. But King finally found the tribe, who gave him plenty to eat and allowed him to live with them.’

     ‘You read that very well, Elizabeth,’ Kathryn said proudly.

     ‘But it's a very sad story, Ma.’

     ‘Yes, it is. The explorers have been very brave men and very determined.’

     ‘I can't imagine wanting to do anything that badly,’ Johnny admitted. ‘Not something so dangerous.’

     ‘We all have to decide what price we're prepared to pay to follow our dreams, son,’ his mother continued. ‘We have to be willing to sacrifice for what's important.’

     ‘I'm hungry.’ Mickey had been enthralled by the story but was less interested in the lesson.

     ‘Yes, I think it's time to finish up now,’ Norah agreed. You've all done very well and you've learned some important things. We can read some more next time.’

     ‘Perhaps we can read about Stuart's trip, Ma,’ Tom pleaded. ‘In December last year he was a hero in Adelaide. He was awarded a government prize of two thousand pounds for being the first person to cross Australia from south to north.’

     ‘Oh, yes,’ said Mary excitedly. ‘I'd like to read about that.’

     ‘And also about the funeral that was held for Burke and Wills in Melbourne in January. They were heroes and they'll be remembered forever for what they did.’ Tom was full of admiration for the explorers and loved to read about everything they’d achieved.

     ‘I'd rather do something grand but stay alive,’ retorted Johnny.

     ‘We would certainly all prefer that, son,’ his mother agreed, smiling.

     ‘And I'm going to die right now if I don't have something to eat,’Mickey whined.

     They all laughed but Tom was sure the thought of the explorers starving to death in the desert would be engraved on their minds for quite some time, and they’d all be ready to hear about another adventure at their next lesson.   

To be continued...

Carol Preston

http://www.carolpreston.com.au

http://www.amazon.com/author/carolpreston

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Forgiving Michael Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

None of us want to admit that we hate someone. When we deny our hate we detour around the crisis of forgiveness, we suppress our spite, make adjustments, and make believe we are too good to be hateful. But the truth is that we do not dare to risk admitting the hate we feel because we do not dare to risk forgiving the person we hate. Lewis Smedes.                                                    

Stoney Creek, May, 1853

James Pollard was eight years old now and he was trying not to be frightened. Beyond the door to the bedroom he could hear muffled voices. He was doing his best his best to keep his younger brother and sisters amused, for he knew something very bad was happening with his mother. He had thought by now that they would have another brother or sister. A few days ago his mother had told him it would be soon but when she called him yesterday and told him to get his father, she shrieked at him, which wasn't like her at all. He had known something was very wrong. Now his parents were in the next room, where they had been for hours. Old Mrs Foley was with them and kept shooing his Pa out. James had fed Johnny, Mary Ann and Elizabeth some soup, which had been bubbling on the stove when his mother's trouble had started. He had played as many games with them as he could think of and now he was getting really worried.

     The last time his father came out of the room, he carried a small bundle which James was sure had blood on it, even though his father tried to hide it. If his mother was bleeding, then it must be bad, for he remembered when he cut his foot just after Christmas, there had been a lot of blood and his mother had rushed him inside and bathed his foot in some stuff that stung a lot and then bound it up tight and made him sit for the rest of the afternoon with his leg on a chair. He had heard his mother crying earlier, so perhaps she had to have some of that stuff on her as well. He wished his father would come out again and tell him his mother was all right now because he was starting to feel sick in the stomach. 

‘It was too soon, Hamlet. I knew it was too soon but I couldn't stop it…I'm so sorry.’

Kathryn tried to push away the damp hair that was plastered around her forehead. It was hard to speak. Her mouth was dry and her lips felt like they were stuck together.

     ‘Shush now, luv,’ Hamlet said. ‘You just rest. What matters is that you get well.  I couldn't bear it if you –’

     ‘Don't you be talking like that.’ Kathryn pushed the words out. ‘I'll be fine in a few days, sure I will.’ She breathed in deeply. ‘It was a boy, wasn't it?’

     Hamlet didn't answer for a few moments and then he nodded his head slowly. ‘It was, but you're not to think about that now. I'll get you some broth.’

     Kathryn could see that his eyes were full as he rose. He turned towards the door, his hand slipping from hers as he moved away.

     A child conceived in such joy and so quickly leaving another space for mourning.  They were going to call him Hamlet. She closed her eyes and imagined her baby boy in the arms of an angel.

     ‘Not meant for this world, my darling child. I'll have to wait until the next life to see you, sure I will,’ she whispered to herself as she drifted into sleep. 

     Kathryn remained listless and sad through the cold, bleak winter but as Spring approached, the colour was back in her cheeks. They were feasting on fresh fruit and vegetables from the garden. Hamlet and James had caught eels in the creek, which she thought she could never eat but in fact found very tasty. Their chickens were laying plenty of eggs and the cow was resplendent with milk. Kathryn felt enlivened by the cascade of colours in the trees and shrubs around their cottage. Soft yellow and deep golden wattles were prolific on the property. Grevilleas burst into spidery flowers and dots of coloured wild flowers were beginning to cover the grass. Before the first week of Spring had passed, she knew she was pregnant again. 

     ‘We'll have our first calves before Christmas,’ Hamlet boasted. ‘And I'll take one of the originals in to be slaughtered. We'll have our own beef soon and plenty to dry and keep. I wish we had a whole paddock of stock, hundreds of them, but that's too much to dream of, isn't it? Once we might have dreamed of such a property but now – ’

     ‘Come, Hamlet, let's not look back. We've made a good start here, and who knows what we'll build up to.’

     ‘Not here, love. It's not enough land for too many head of stock.’ Hamlet dropped into his chair, and sniffed at the smell of the stew on the stove. ‘Now, what are you so bright about tonight? I can see you're feeling good about something.’

     ‘I can't keep much from you, can I now?’ She smiled and touched her stomach gently. 

     ‘Ah,’ he said, grinning. ‘Then you'll be leaving the gardening to me this Spring, eh?’

      

A week later, Kathryn was packing the back of the cart with fresh vegetables, bottles of fruit jam, baskets of eggs and a platter of cheeses.

     ‘I'm not sure about you driving in there on your own, Kathryn.’ Hamlet frowned. ‘It's a fair ride and bumpy over that track.’

     ‘I won't be on my own, sure I won't, for I'm taking the girls with me and we'll be just fine. A little bump or two at this stage will do no harm and I have so much here that I might as well get a few pennies for it. I'll stop at O'Connell and catch the passers by.  There's a steady stream of people travelling into Bathurst these days, so the neighbours say. We'll be home well before dark so you're not to worry, and sure, you and the boys have some fencing to fix.’

     By mid afternoon, Kathryn was well pleased with her sales and just about to head for home when a cart pulled up just a little past the front of her own. A woman climbed awkwardly from the bench and Kathryn could see, even from the back, that the woman was very largely pregnant. A stocky, dark haired man sat on the bench, holding the reins of the horse and there were children bobbing up and down in the back, amidst a pile of goods. The woman wore a large brimmed hat and came towards Kathryn slowly, her gait clumsy.

     Kathryn was just thinking how unwise she was to be out and about at such a late stage in pregnancy, when she recognised something very familiar about the woman.

     ‘Norah?’ she gasped. ‘Is that you?  It is, sure it is, oh, my Lord.’ She walked quickly to bridge the few feet that were now between them and reached around Norah's wide girth to hug her.

     ‘I knew it was you, sure I did…as soon as I saw you there,’ Nora said, excitedly. ‘I told Michael, that's Kathryn, so I did, and he said I was daft and didn't want to pull up but I insisted. What on earth are you doing way out here? And look at these two little beauties now.’ She waved at the two girls playing at the side of the cart.

     Mary Ann looked up and smiled briefly and then turned her attention back to her small sister, for it was her job to take care of Elizabeth and the eighteen-month-old's attention could be taken very quickly by any small animal on the side of the road. 

     ‘We live near here,’ Kathryn answered, looking Norah up and down. ‘A couple of miles down the Fish River.’

     ‘You do?’ Norah's face was incredulous. ‘Why, we live along Wiseman's Creek, about seven miles south of here. I can't believe it, sure I can't. When…how long…?’ Norah stumbled over her words, her eyes wide with excitement.

     ‘Hamlet and I arrived in the spring of fifty-two. We've a small property now.’

     ‘We were here in February of that same year, so we were.’ Norah nodded, her red curls bobbing around her chin. ‘And all this time I had no idea. Oh, Kathryn, how odd…and how wonderful. Why, we're practically neighbours. Michael and I were on the gold fields north of here for a bit and then, well, he had a little luck and we took a lease on a property. Just a wee hut and a couple of fields. It was in pretty poor condition when we arrived but now we've done a few improvements…put on an extra room.’ She looked down and patted her enlarged belly. 

     ‘And when are you due, for you look like it could be any minute?’

     ‘Sure, it will be in the next couple of weeks. I'm a bit nervous for I've not been alone before…but there's Mrs Foley just down the road. She'll help me, I'm sure.’

     ‘I wish I could be there for you.’ Kathryn reached for Norah’s hand.

     ‘Now don't you worry. I'll be fine. But you must come and visit me sometime.’

     ‘I will,’ Kathryn announced definitely, although her mind was racing with how she would tell Hamlet about this meeting. ‘I'm pregnant myself and I'd not want to go through it alone either. I had Mrs Foley come to me last year…but sadly, it wasn't to be.’

     ‘I'm so sorry, Kathryn…but you must have quite a tribe by now. For it must be six years since I've seen you and…sure this must be Mary Ann?’ She beamed at the young girl who was still focussed on her sister's antics. ‘And you had James and the twins…and this wee one, what's her name?’

     Kathryn’s voice caught in her throat. ‘Uh, no…we lost the twins, Norah. Fever took them when they were very small.’ She took a deep breath. ‘We've just got these two and two boys.  What about you?’

     ‘Just the two still. I lost a little one a couple of years ago…on the gold fields.’ Norah’s face dropped. ‘And I've lost a few at birth.’ She held her stomach protectively.  ‘I'm praying the good Lord will grant me a healthy one now.’

     ‘Oh, I wish I was closer. I'd come, sure I would, Norah. I'm so sorry about your losses. I know how hard it is.’

     ‘Of course you do, for how tragic for you to lose those precious baby twins. If I'd only known. All this time, Kathryn, I’ve…I'm so happy to see you, sure I am. And how is Hamlet?’

     ‘He's fine…working very hard to make something of the little plot we have, as I'm sure Michael is.’

     Norah glanced back at their cart. Michael was still facing away from her. Kathryn could see the children were fidgeting in the back of the cart.

     ‘I'll be off now,’ Norah said. ‘The children will be agitated. It'd be grand to see you again soon. I come in here often on a Tuesdays to get a few supplies, so perhaps…when I've got this one out and about, that is.’ She smiled and rubbed her stomach. ‘Perhaps we might meet up here sometime?’

     ‘Oh, yes, I'll be sure to remember…Tuesdays. Now, here, take some of this with you, for I'm about to head home and I'm not wanting to take it back with me. We have plenty more.’ She held out a bottle of jam and a bag of vegetables.

     Norah shook her head. ‘I couldn't, Kathryn, for I've no money. We spent the last of what we had in Kelso…and I've some vegetables in the plot at home as well.’

     ‘Just some jam then, for we've loads of fruit on the trees and it's very good, even if I say so myself. The children will love it, I’m sure.’

     ‘All right, I will, and thank you. I've bought some fruit trees myself, just now in town.  I've been wanting to put them in since…well, it's taken us a while to get set up.  Thank you.’ Norah took three bottles of jam into the crook of her arm and leaned over and kissed Kathryn on the cheek before she turned and waddled back to her cart.

     ‘Looks like you did well, my love,’ Hamlet said as Kathryn put the few remaining vegetables and bottles of jam back in the pantry. ‘Such an enterprising wife I have.’

     ‘It was an interesting day, sure it was, Hamlet,’ she said tentatively. ‘Very interesting, indeed.’

     ‘Oh?’ Hamlet said, and waited. When she didn't speak, he went on. ‘Well, tell me what you've got bubbling away there.’

     ‘There's something I need to tell you about, sure there is. You'd best sit down.’

     Kathryn watched Hamlet's face tense as she spoke of seeing Norah. His eyes were dark, his jaw clenched and when he spoke it was through gritted teeth.

     ‘Where were they headed? Probably off to the gold fields knowing that one. He'd not be one for farming. Dear God, I hope they were just passing through. I swear I'd not be able to contain myself if I ran into him. Every time I think of my dear mother's face on that brooch I could – ’

     ‘Hamlet, please stay calm,’ Kathryn soothed, rethinking quickly what she had been about to say. ‘Yes, Norah did say something about the gold fields. I'm sure you'll not have to see the man about here. It was just lovely for me to see Norah again though, to see that she's well…and she seems happy. Now, we won't talk of it again. You must try and let it go…please. It's not good to stay angry.’

     ‘I know, my love. I'll have to pray that God gives me a forgiving heart. When I think of that man I realise I’m still as angry as ever I was with him.’ He put his arms around Kathryn and squeezed her gently.

     Kathryn hated to deceive him but she was afraid what he might do if he knew that the man who still haunted his sleep was living just a few miles away. 

     Two weeks later as Hamlet was showing the children how to milk the cow, Kathryn came into the barn, wiping her hands on her apron.

     ‘I need to go into O'Connell for a few things, Hamlet. And there's a woman who lives close by that I need to drop in on. I think she'll be able to help me…when my time comes.’

     ‘Fine, love. Just watch yourself on that track. We could all go if – ’

     ‘I can't be talking to the woman about birthing with all you lot about. No, you just look after the children for a bit and I'll be back later on.’ Kathryn tried to keep her voice light. She hated herself for lying but she had been thinking about Norah and needed to see she was all right. ‘The children had a big breakfast so some bread and cheese will do for lunch. I'll be back soon after.’ Her words were hurried.

     Hamlet nodded, although his frown remained. Kathryn knew he was not happy with her travelling in the cart in her condition but he would not argue with her. She turned and hurried away before he could say any more.

     Kathryn put a couple of items of baby clothing in her bag, along with some more bottles of fruit jam, pulled her bonnet over her hair and headed off in the cart. The track out to Wiseman's Creek was flat for the most part, with a steep pinch towards the end, over a scrubby, rocky hill.

     As she started down the other side of the incline, she was pleasantly surprised to find herself in a small green valley; the grasses high, dotted with wild flowers. She could hear the mooing of a few cattle on the low hills. The creek she had been following had widened into substantial pools. A flock of white cockatoos erupted from a large tree as she rounded a bend, and she saw underneath it a rickety gate on which Kearns had been scratched. She pulled on the reins, turning the horse towards the open gate onto the track to the cottage.

     Well, perhaps one couldn't call it a cottage, she thought as she approached, for it was not much more than a humpy. She could see a second room had been added to the side, although it looked as if it would not stand a strong wind. She knocked quietly and smiled at the young boy who opened the front door. He looked nervous.        

     ‘Are you come to help Ma?’ His lip trembled as he spoke.

     ‘You'll be Thomas, then…and Rebecca?’ she added, looking at the girl who sat at the small table in the corner of the room, brushing her hair.        

     ‘Tom,’ the young boy corrected. ‘It's just Tom now.’

      Rebecca hardly paused in her attention to her hair. 

     ‘I see.’ Kathryn nodded. ‘Yes, I've come to see your Ma. Is she in there?’ She pointed to the other room. As she glanced around the room they were in she couldn't help but notice how bare it was. Apart from the table and a couple of stools, there was an open fire against one wall, a pile of wood, a few pots and pans hanging from the roof above it, and a small cabinet with plates and cups neatly stacked inside. The floor of the room was dirt and Kathryn could smell the mustiness of the winter cold still coming up from the ground. 

     ‘She's poorly,’ Tom said. ‘Pa's gone for Mrs Foley.’

     ‘I'll go to her then, will I? Rebecca, perhaps you could make us a cup of tea.’

     The nine-year-old looked up, a disinterested expression on her face. ‘Tom'll do it,’ she said and looked away.

     ‘I will,’ Tom agreed quickly and moved towards the fire. ‘How do you know our names?’

     ‘I met you a few years ago. You've grown quite a bit but I've not forgotten you. Your Ma and I were good friends.’ She smiled reassuringly at Tom but when she glanced at Rebecca, she could see the girl was not listening. 

     Kathryn moved toward the opening to the other room and peered inside. There was only one small window and the room was quite dark, for the sun was still low in the eastern sky.

     ‘Norah,’ Kathryn said quietly. ‘How are you?’ She knelt close to the mattress, brushed back damp copper curls from Norah's face and took her hand gently.

     ‘Kathryn? Sure I wasn't expecting you,’ Norah murmured, drawing the small bundle beside her close to her side. ‘It was a hard one, sure it was, but worth it.’ She smiled at the tiny face, almost completely covered by a small blanket which had seen much better days, Kathryn thought as she touched the little cheek softly. 

     Norah took a deep breath. ‘Michael's gone for Mrs Foley. She was here for me yesterday but she had to get back to her family. She has about ten of them, so she has. Michael's afraid I might need more help today and…he's not good at this. He's not been left alone with me so soon before.’ She sucked in her breath as she adjusted her position and got more comfortable. 

     ‘Well, I'm glad I came. I thought you'd have the wee one by now, the way you looked last time I saw you. I wanted to bring you a few things. I've plenty for mine…and time to make some more.’ She held out the tiny jacket she had crocheted and a dress with small flowers embroidered on the bodice. 

     ‘Kathryn, they're beautiful. Our wee Mary will look adorable in those. I've not got too much for her.’ She again drew the baby close and a tear rolled from one eye.

     ‘What is it?’ Kathryn asked, stroking Norah’s hand.  

     ‘I was hoping it would be a son for Michael, that's all. She's beautiful, sure she is, but it's just that…she's only the third child to show for any number of pregnancies and I know he'd like another boy.’ Norah wiped her eyes with her sleeve and laid back, spent.

     ‘Well, he'll have to settle for a healthy daughter, won't he now?’ Kathryn said.   

     A few minutes later Tom tapped tentatively on the door and poked his head into the room.

     ‘The tea’s ready.’ 

     ‘Thank you, Tom. I'll get some for your Ma and me.’

     ‘He's a treasure, that one.’ Norah grinned. 

     When Kathryn went to get the tea, Michael was sitting at the table.

     ‘Missus Foley weren't 'ome,’ he mumbled. 

     ‘Norah's weak, but I’m sure she’ll be fine, Michael. And you've a beautiful daughter.’ Kathryn poured two mugs of tea.

     ‘Ah, well.’ Michael sighed, squinting at mother and child through the doorway to the bedroom. ‘Maybe next time, eh?’

     ‘You should be happy to have this one alive and well.’ Kathryn moved back into the bedroom, finding it difficult to hide her annoyance. 

     ‘I'll be pleased enough just to keep her alive, so I will,’ Norah whispered, drawing the baby close. 

      ‘Well, we've each other now, don't we?’ Kathryn helped Norah sit up enough to drink. ‘I'm not so far away that I can’t visit.’ She glanced sideways at Michael, who had come to the door opening. ‘I'm sure the children would enjoy playing together and I'll be grateful for a friend, sure I will.’

     ‘I'd like that so much.’ Norah beamed. ‘There's the Foleys and the Forans and Hanrahans near here – quite a few Irish – but we haven't mixed much. We'll be pleased if you'll come, won't we Michael?’

     ‘Hmm,’ Michael murmured, clearly not excited by the prospect.

      Kathryn ignored him. She and Norah had been friends before he came along and would be again and she was not going to be put off by him. She felt she would like to give him a piece of her mind. His attitude to his wife was appalling, apart from the rest of what she knew about him. She was going to have trouble holding her tongue, though she would for Norah's sake.

     As she drove home that afternoon, she was conscious that her greater problem would be finding a way to tell Hamlet that the Kearns family was going to be part of their lives again. 

To be continued...


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