Molly's Journey

by Sheila Newberry

  ‘I shouldn’t interfere—’

  ‘I’m asking you to.’

  ‘She wasn’t ready to commit herself to him then, but now she could except she believes it’s too late . . . ’

  *

  Rory handed Almond to Nancy. ‘Watch out, she’s wriggling like mad! No more kisses, darling, you’ve made my face all wet! Goodbye and good luck, Nancy!’

  He turned to Molly who stood quietly as if in a dream, the collar of her cape turned up, half-concealing her face. He held out his hand, then changed his mind. He hugged her to him, his lips just brushing her hair, ruffled by the wind. She stood there passively, arms at her sides.

  What he whispered was not quite what she longed to hear. ‘You’re a woman now, Molly.’ Then he gave her a little push. ‘You must go. Goodbye, have a good journey. Keep in touch.’

  She still couldn’t say anything. He was going to marry Sarah after all; Serena had confided to her this morning. ‘Of course, I’m pleased, but now—’

  ‘It’s good news,’ Molly reassured her. ‘She’s already one of your family, Serena.’

  They waved. Rory was just a face in the crowd now.

  *

  ‘Back of the Beyond, Nancy. It hasn’t changed, has it?’ Molly observed, trying to smooth the creases from her skirt. ‘Thank goodness Almond is beyond the push-chair stage, it would be one more thing to handle.’

  Nancy, who was carrying the sleepy, grumpy child along the deserted platform, for they were the only passengers to alight here, gave a wry grin.

  ‘Exactly the same as it was when we arrived here six years ago: no one waiting to greet us. Hope they got our message, Nancy. Only one thing is certain, it won’t be poor old Frank, will it?’

  She plonked herself down on the big trunk, decanted from the baggage trolley. The steam, the sharp odour of the train, now almost out of sight, lingered in the growing dusk. The lone porter lit a lamp and hung it outside the ticket office so that they could see more clearly. ‘Not much of a waiting room, but you’re welcome—’

  ‘Thanks, but here comes that same old conveyance by the look of it. Ernst must have sent someone from the farm to fetch us.’ Molly jumped up, waving wildly. ‘We’re here!’ she shouted.

  Nancy yawned. Her arms really ached. She wondered whether she should wake Almond, who had now succumbed to sleep. If it was the farm cart it wouldn’t be Art, she thought. After all that travelling it was just as well. She hoped she’d get the chance to freshen up before they met. Suppose he was no longer at the mission? She hadn’t thought of that, had she? Molly could get the driver to move their luggage, she’d stay put for once.

  ‘Hello, Nancy, I came along for the ride. Couldn’t wait to see you after all this time. Pass the little one to me – Elfie thought of cushions and rugs,’ Art said. His happy smile told her so much more.

  ‘Oh, Art . . . ’ was all she could say in return.

  *

  Molly was having a leg-up to the front seat. ‘Hurry up!’ she called to Nancy. ‘Plenty of time for a reunion, you two. You can sit in the back with the luggage – and Almond!’

  The driver hadn’t had time to introduce himself; Molly had been too busy telling him where things should go. ‘Hope Elfie sent some sandwiches – we’re starving,’ she said, settling herself on the hard seat.

  He spread a rug over her knees. ‘Don’t you recognise me, Molly? I thought we’d be enjoying a reunion ourselves.’

  She looked at him, startled, in the gloom.

  ‘Henning! I don’t believe it!’

  ‘Nor did I. When I came back to Australia a couple of years ago now, I never dreamed I’d get my old job back, that I’d see you again – it must be meant to be, don’t you think?’

  ‘All I can say, ’cause it’s quite taken my breath away, is – I’m really pleased to see you again!’ Molly shook her head. ‘Are you sure I’m not asleep and you’re not really here at all?’

  ‘You’re here, and I’m here,’ he assured her.

  ‘I was languishing for love of you for years, you know,’ she blurted out, and then wished she hadn’t.

  Henning smiled at her. The beam from the lantern, illuminating the rough road ahead, gave his skin a yellowish tinge; she saw, with a start, that the thatch of hair was shorter, receding from his temples, greying rather than bleached by the sun. He looked older, but then, she realised, like with Rory, so must she.

  ‘Was – not still, I think. You have a child to show that,’ he observed. ‘I wrote you a letter before I left for Denmark that time; I should not have done so, it was not right to ask you to abandon all at a tender age – I apologise for that, Molly.’

  ‘I would have come, Henning, I really would,’ she exclaimed, ‘only by then we were in Brisbane and your letter was sent on, but it was too late by the time I received it.’

  ‘I don’t wish to hurt you, but I felt relief as well as great disappointment when I realised I would be travelling alone . . . I still had things to resolve at home. They say you can’t go back, Molly, it will not be the same, however much you try, and they were right. Yet here I am, and here you are.’

  ‘I didn’t come to Australia thinking I would see you,’ she said truthfully. ‘When you last tried to contact me, I tore up your letter at once so I would not remember your address. Be tempted . . . I’m in love with someone else now, Henny. I have been for years but wouldn’t acknowledge it, and now it’s far too late. However, I am really pleased to see you and I hope we can resume our friendship,’ she gabbled. She had to stop thinking about the mistakes she had made in her love life.

  ‘Not where we left off, of course, but friends, yes, I hope we will be always that, Molly. You do not have to tell me your story: real friends can accept what is past is gone; what we have is now.’

  ‘Just how I feel – ooh, these ruts! I’d forgotten how bone-shaking this journey was from the station!’

  *

  In the shadows, surrounded by baggage, with the sleeping child lying in a cosy cocoon beside them, Nancy and Art, braced against the back boarding, sat close under the blanket, vibrantly aware of each other, oblivious to the two in the front.

  ‘I first heard that you were coming two days ago,’ he said softly. ‘I knew you were widowed, of course, but I didn’t think it was my place to write. I suppose I couldn’t face rejection again, even though Ernst told me something of what you had endured in the past . . . ’ He raised a hand and gently traced her face with his fingers as if trying to erase bad thoughts.

  ‘I was helping out at the House of Leather when I read a card you’d sent from Australia. I had a feeling that you must be where you were because of me,’ she told him simply. ‘When you said you had found your vocation and were staying on, I was glad for you, but sad for me, as at that time it seemed I would be in England for good. Molly needed me, you see, and last year Alexa – Mrs Nagel – became ill and I felt I couldn’t leave her: she’s been so good to me. Then she moved to live with her son-in-law in the country, which is lovely for her because she sees Fay all the time. It’s thanks to Alexa’s generosity that Molly and I have been able to come here again. I went to see your dear mum before we left; she listened and hugged me, and gave me her blessing. You know, I can’t quite picture you as a preacher—’

  He laughed, squeezing her hand. ‘Nor can I! I’m teaching at the mission, Nancy. It’s something I always really wanted to do, but college was out of the question when I left school. My parents had kept me there as long as they could. It wouldn’t have been fair on the rest of the family. I’m studying hard to pass my examinations by correspondence course, alongside my practical training with Ernst. The local people even built a new schoolhouse for me last year; just two rooms really, with a kitchen and a washhouse – all a bachelor needs.’

  ‘Oh.’ She was glad that he wouldn’t see her blushing in the waning light.

  He continued: ‘They said: you can always have rooms tacked on when you marry and take a wife. Am I presuming far too much,
too soon, Nancy – that this is why you’ve come all this way to see me? For us to marry as soon as we can arrange it? We had our courtship long ago, after all. Your message ended: Love to Art.’

  ‘I wanted to put, Tell Art I love him . . . ’

  Then they were clinging to each other as if they could never let go and there was no need to say any more.

  We’re together at last, Nancy exulted to herself. We love each other, that’s all that matters.

  SIX

  Elfie had made a real effort with supper: roast lamb with all the trimmings. She had even opened a jar of her precious mint sauce. It smelled very appetising. Henning excused himself politely. He’d had his fill from the packed provisions, he said, thank you very much. Better get on back and ‘hope to see you all soon’. He included Nancy and Almond, clinging to her mother tearfully, having woken in yet another strange place.

  ‘Yes, we’ll see you soon! Thanks for bringing us safely here,’ Molly called after him from the doorway. She turned to Elfie. ‘Don’t worry, I could eat a horse.’ Then, as she saw her hostess’s pained expression, added: ‘Not really, of course! I hope it hasn’t been too much for you, having to make ready for us all in a rush?’

  ‘Visitors are always welcome in our home,’ Ernst put in. ‘We have open house, don’t we, Elfie?’ He held out his arms invitingly, and Almond amazed her mother by going to him and nestling her tear-stained face against his baggy jumper.

  ‘You know, I recognise that colour. Puce, don’t you call it?’ Molly said cheerfully. ‘Isn’t that the same wool you were knitting with on the journey out six years ago?’

  ‘Plum,’ Elfie said. ‘Fancy you remembering it! I made a cardigan for myself, but I pulled it out recently and reknitted the wool for Ernst.’

  ‘I am not fussy,’ he laughed. Elfie didn’t bridle as she would have done in the old days. Ernst could say what he liked, that was soon obvious.

  ‘Everything is ready – have a quick wash and then come and eat,’ she told them. ‘There’s just the gravy to make, and Ernst will start the carving.’

  ‘I’ll show them their room, shall I?’ Art offered. He had kept his arm firmly round Nancy’s waist.

  ‘If you would, Art, please. You’re staying for the meal, of course?’ Elfie asked. ‘I don’t suppose you eat properly, living by yourself.’

  ‘Well, that will soon be remedied!’ Art told them. He winked at Nancy. ‘I shall have someone to look after me very shortly, I hope.’

  ‘You haven’t wasted any time, you two, have you?’ Molly cried excitedly.

  But it was Elfie who, unexpectedly, made the first move to embrace them each emotionally in turn. ‘I’m so glad, so glad. I was praying all would go well,’ she whispered to Art. And to Nancy: ‘You’re a very lucky girl!’

  ‘I know,’ she said softly.

  *

  The girls talked long into the night, too excited to sleep like Almond, cuddled between them in the big bed in the spare room. Which meant they eventually drifted off around dawn, and would wake late.

  ‘Nancy – Ernst says do you feel like getting up right now and having your breakfast, then going along to the school in about half an hour, to spend the morning with him and Art?’

  She sat bolt upright in bed. The other two remained doggo beneath the covers. She rubbed her eyes, focused on Elfie peeping round the bedroom door. ‘I’d love to,’ she yawned.

  ‘Then I’ll fetch you a can of hot water to wash.’

  Nancy took a clean blue and white striped blouse from the trunk, gave it a shake. Pity there was no time to press out the creases, she thought. She washed and dressed quickly, unwound the rags from her hair, for she’d wanted to look her best for Art today; combed out the springy, corkscrew curls and tied them back with a blue satin bow, to match the one at the neck of the blouse. There! Did she look like a schoolmaster’s future wife? Her reflection smiled back at her from the mirror. ‘I’ve never been so happy before in all my life,’ she mouthed to herself. She wished Alexa was here so that she could tell her that, right at this moment. ‘Sleep on for a bit, you two,’ she murmured to Molly and Almond before she left the room.

  *

  The children sat on benches at long tables, with slates and chalk, copying the words from the smeared, swinging blackboards beside the teachers’ desks. Art was stationed at one side of the big room, Ernst with the older children on the other side. Nancy sat unobtrusively, she hoped, at the back of the class. Art knew she was there, but apart from a brief smile in her direction, he had continued with calling the register.

  Earnest faces; lustrous, laughing dark brown eyes; paler faces with Nordic blue eyes and flaxen hair, girls in simple loose calico dresses which they had painstakingly sewn, as Nancy had done, during her time at the school, under the instruction of the ladies’ circle. Boys larked about as boys did at school the world over, the older ones with dirt under their finger nails for they had raked the path to the school as usual first thing between the vegetable plots they would sow in the spring. These children were already learning to help themselves and their families. There had been many more aboriginal children here fifty years ago; the majority had moved on long ago when the first squatters arrived. The Lutheran mission and its school were part of their lives, as with the poorer white immigrants. Like the young Nancy, some were without shoes, some had a long trek to their classroom, some attended only spasmodically, others never missed a lesson.

  She looked down at her neat boots, thinking. Her feet were clean nowadays, of course, but they were broad and the toes rather splayed from the years she had walked without worrying about shoes for her soles then were leathery and hard.

  It was like going back in time, listening to the pupils reciting as Art moved the pointer along the chalked words.

  When the children went outside to play and to share lunch with those who had little or none, Art came over to her at last.

  ‘You teach well,’ she observed.

  ‘Not yet as inspiring as I want to be, because I’m still learning myself, but I’m striving to get there,’ he told her. ‘Nancy, before you go back to Elfie’s, would you like a quick look at the school house, I wonder?’ As she nodded, he added: ‘Not tidy enough by Elfie’s standards, I’m afraid.’

  ‘As if I care about that!’ she said, glad to stretch her legs after sitting still for so long.

  ‘Art,’ she teased, as he wasted no time in hugging her when they stepped straight into the living room, closing the door firmly behind them, ‘it was just an excuse, wasn’t it, bringing me here.’

  He silenced her with a long kiss. ‘There, you can tell how hungry I am! You look beautiful today, Nancy, and you smell so nice—’

  ‘I sprayed myself with Molly’s best perfume!’ she admitted. ‘Well, aren’t you going to show me the rest of the house, then? Not much to look at in here. Haven’t you even got a comfortable chair to sit in, Art?’ She thought of Leonard’s reclining leather chair; that would have been perfect for him, but she had naturally insisted that Alexa keep it.

  ‘I spend most of my evenings studying at that table with my books spread out. But we’ll buy a sofa for you so that you can put up your feet!’ He opened another door with a flourish. ‘Bedroom!’

  When she saw the narrow single bed, Nancy knew instantly what she would bring to her future home. A generous bedstead with a plump new feather mattress! She might have to send off for it from Lassetter’s catalogue, though.

  ‘You’re blushing,’ he said. ‘I wonder why?’

  ‘You always have that effect on me, Art Gray,’ she told him.

  *

  Molly was a bit disconcerted to discover that Nancy had gone out without waking her to tell her where she was going.

  ‘Rather late for breakfast,’ Elfie told her, keeping an anxious eye on what Almond was up to, with the piano lid up and little fingers exploring the keys. She’d hoped the sitting room would be out of bounds to Almond during the day, but Molly had blithely opened the door
and let her in.

  ‘One of those little buns apiece will do us, they look good and I love them still hot – all right if I take a couple? Almond! Stop that thumping and come and eat in the kitchen!’ she called.

  The buns had been intended for tea. Elfie had the feeling she would find it hard to keep up with her visitors’ appetites. She took small plates out of the cupboard. ‘Just one then, Molly. Nancy and Ernst will be back in about ten minutes. Art looks after the children out in the schoolyard. Have you any plans for the afternoon?’ she added hopefully.

  ‘I thought we might take the sulky, if you don’t mind, and go for a drive round – to the stores, of course, because we must contribute to the catering, that’s only fair, Elfie. Let me know if there is anything in particular you require.’

  ‘But you’re guests here,’ she began, flustered.

  ‘Family, Elfie. Well, as good as, eh? You’ve been so kind to welcome us at such short notice, we mustn’t take advantage of that.’

  ‘You’re a thoughtful girl, Molly. I’m sorry that I was a little – stiff – with you in the old days. I suppose I felt life had passed me by then while you had everything to look forward to. It’s a shame that things haven’t gone as you might have hoped. Finding Ernst completely turned my own life around. I’d like you to be happy like that one day.’

  ‘Oh, Elfie!’ Molly was touched at this unexpected speech. ‘I wouldn’t part with my darling Almond for anything. I don’t regret having her, you know . . . Almond! Don’t wipe your fingers on Elfie’s tablecloth! I’m happy right now for Nancy and Art, like you are. Something’ll turn up for me. It always does! Don’t worry about Molly Sparkes, will you?’

  *

  There was a knock on the door of the schoolhouse. ‘Ernst, I expect, come to escort you home for lunch.’ Art opened the door.

  A woman stood there. A shabby woman with a shawl over her head and shoulders; a weary, seamed face with a fading bruise on one cheekbone.

  She cleared her throat. ‘The pastor said you got my Nancy here.’

  ‘Hello, Ma,’ Nancy said, looking over Art’s shoulder. She swallowed hard. ‘I know you’ve got to get back to the children, Art. Will you tell Ernst not to wait? I’ll walk back on my own in a little while.’