‘We don’t have that many owners,’ he said, refusing to look at her. ‘I’m only just starting to get the business back on its feet.’
‘But this has been a racing yard for years,’ she persisted. ‘Surely in your father and grandfather’s day the yard would have been full.’ She glanced across at the sprawling homestead. ‘The house appears quite large for just you and your mother,’ she said pointedly.
He reddened and scuffed the dirt. ‘I don’t have a wife and kids, if that’s what you’re suggesting,’ he muttered, ‘but Ma doesn’t like having strangers in the house,’ he muttered.
He refused to look at her, but she was determined to make him tell her the truth. ‘Is it all strangers she doesn’t like – or just Gwen Cole’s daughter she has an objection to?’
He glanced uneasily at her from beneath the brim of his hat. ‘She never really said,’ he hedged.
‘So,’ she breathed, ‘Gwen’s poison is as potent as ever.’ Tears pricked and she angrily blinked them away. ‘I am not my mother, Joe,’ she said on a trembling breath, ‘and it’s unfair to condemn me before I have had a chance to prove myself.’
Joe saw the tears glisten on her eyelashes and felt a pang of remorse. He’d hoped to avoid this conversation, but it had somehow sneaked up on him, and now he didn’t know what to do. He hated lying – hated being put in this position. He touched her shoulder in sympathy. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Please don’t think I had anything to do with all this.’
She shrugged his hand away. ‘This is your yard,’ she said with contempt. ‘I’m sure you don’t let your mother make all the rules.’
‘Not usually,’ he admitted shamefacedly, ‘but you don’t know Ma.’ He glanced at her, realised she was unimpressed with this excuse and ploughed on. ‘I did my best to persuade her she was being unreasonable,’ he muttered, ‘but when Ma gets an idea in her head, an earthquake wouldn’t flamin’ shift it.’
Lulu folded her arms, her expression unsympathetic.
Joe gave a deep sigh. ‘There was nowhere within twenty miles for you to stay, and without transport you would have been stuck. It was my idea you settled in Dad’s hideaway down by the river.’
‘And she didn’t object to that?’
He gave an uneasy smile. ‘Let’s just say she came to see it made sense.’
Her lovely blue eyes regarded him through unshed tears and tugged at his heart. ‘Why did it make sense, Joe?’
There was no escape from that steady gaze. ‘There’s been a lot of gossip and speculation surrounding your arrival,’ he said softly, ‘especially about how you and Ma would get on – and what Gwen would make of it.’
She must have seen his reluctance to carry on, for she touched his arm and gave him a watery smile. ‘I’m sorry you’ve been put in this invidious position, Joe, but you might as well tell me, because I won’t stop asking until I know it all.’
He’d been afraid of that, but he soldiered on. ‘Ma has a certain amount of stubborn pride,’ he explained reluctantly. ‘She realised that by refusing to accommodate you she was giving in to Gwen and proving the gossips right.’
‘In what way?’
Joe took a deep breath. ‘Ma and Gwen had a serious bust-up years ago. I have no idea what it was about,’ he added hastily, ‘but it was bad enough for Ma to harbour a lot of ill-will against Gwen.’
‘But I’m not Gwen,’ she said flatly. ‘What has all this to do with me?’
Joe took a deep breath. ‘She’s afraid Gwen will show up here looking for you.’
Her laugh was bitter. ‘Gwen’s already done her best to get rid of me. I doubt she’ll come all the way up from Poatina to try again, so your mother needn’t worry on that score,’ she retorted.
Joe shifted his feet. The hurt in her eyes belied her brave words, and was that fear trembling in her voice – or anger? He’d been shocked by Gwen’s actions today, and the effects were obviously still troubling Lulu. How awful to know that her mother hated her so much she was prepared to do her harm. He wanted so badly to take her hand, to comfort and reassure her that she’d be safe at Galway House – but he didn’t know how she might react, so he kept his hands firmly in his pockets.
It was as if she’d read his thoughts. ‘Please don’t feel sorry for me,’ she said softly. ‘Gwen and I loathe each other, and that will never change.’
He watched her compose herself, and saw how hard she was finding it. His admiration for this young woman soared, and he wished with all his heart that his mother could be here to see how strong she was – and how unlike Gwen.
She looked up at him and smiled. ‘Changing the subject completely, does the homestead have a proper bathroom?’
He frowned, wondering where this was heading. ‘It does,’ he said hesitantly.
‘Do you think your mother would agree to Dolly using it so she can soak in a proper tub? She’s really not used to privations, and there have already been ructions.’
‘It might be a bit awkward—’
‘No, it won’t,’ she interrupted. ‘I have no intention of stepping foot in your mother’s house until she delivers a personal invitation, and I’m quite happy to bathe in a tin tub. I’m asking for Dolly.’
‘I’ll have a word with Ma when she gets back. I’m sure it will be fine …’ he trailed off, feeling horribly embarrassed.
‘Good, that’s settled then.’ She smiled up at him and turned away. ‘I’d better go and tell Dolly the good news.’ She paused in mid-stride and faced him again. ‘Is there any chance of some transport? There are people and places I need to visit.’
‘You can borrow one of the utes. They might look wrecks, but they’re fairly reliable.’
She nodded her thanks and he watched her stride across the clearing and along the top of the hill. It wasn’t long before she descended into the valley and was lost to sight. He was deep in thought as he headed for the yard, for his mother had to be made to realise that this hurtful and embarrassing situation must be brought to an immediate end.
*
Lulu knew he was watching her and kept her head high, her pace steady. But her heart was pounding and the tears were almost blinding her as she reached the dusty track and began the descent into the valley. On gaining the valley floor, the first sob escaped and, as she sank into the grass on the riverbank, the tears rolled freely.
The pain was one she’d thought banished long ago, and its return was more profound than ever. It was the pain of knowing her mother would never love her, that no matter how much she wished it, nothing had changed between them – and that the stigma of her birth could never be erased while prejudice was stoked by whispering tittle-tattle. Would it never be silenced? Would she ever be permitted to prove her own merit, or had she been condemned by Gwen’s reputation – judged guilty of the same immorality and spite, and sentenced to a lifetime of being an outsider? Joe’s mother obviously thought so, and the sheer unfairness of it all brought fresh tears.
She had struggled for years to undo the damage her mother had inflicted – had fought to walk her own path and prove she was worth something, that she could achieve recognition for her talents regardless of her background. And she had done just that when she’d escaped to England – for Clarice had loved and protected her, helped her to find the pride and belief in herself she’d so sorely lacked as a child. But she hadn’t listened to Clarice’s warnings, and here she was again – in Tasmania – her mother’s reputation and hatred already casting poisonous clouds from which there seemed no escape.
Lulu’s tears slowly died away, but far from draining her, they had somehow strengthened her resolve. As she blew her nose and looked around her, she realised time had moved on, and that the sun was on the point of sinking behind the hills. She got to her feet and took a deep breath. Dolly must never know how upset she was, for she would demand they leave – and that was not what she wanted. Mrs Reilly would no doubt love to see the back of her, but running away was not the answer.
She s
tuffed the handkerchief in her pocket and headed for the cabin, her determination lengthening her stride. Mrs Reilly would soon discover that despite gossip and perceived character flaws, Lulu Pearson was made of stern stuff, and that the years in England under Clarice’s guardianship had imbued her with a spirit that would fight injustice to the end.
*
Joe had been kept busy for the rest of the afternoon and was just grooming the horses after their evening ride-out when he heard his mother’s utility pull up in front of the homestead.
‘Finish up here,’ he said to Bob, throwing him the curry comb, ‘and when you’ve done that, see to Ocean Child. It’s going to be cold tonight, and he needs bringing in – and don’t let him stuff himself with oats. You’re far too lenient with him.’
Bob eyed him warily, and Joe realised he’d been sharp with the boy, but his endless questions about their visitors had set his frayed nerves on edge. He ruffled the boy’s hair and smiled. ‘You did good today, mate,’ he said. ‘Don’t mind me.’
Bob’s grin showed his relief. ‘Reckon there’s too many sheilas about the place for a bloke to keep his mind on things,’ he replied.
‘Too flamin’ right,’ Joe muttered as he headed for the house.
The dogs greeted him with fawning adoration and he distractedly made a fuss of them before leading them through the screen door and into the kitchen.
Molly was unpacking her shopping basket and restocking the pantry shelves. There was no sign of Dianne. ‘You’re early,’ she said, as she emerged from the walk-in larder and gathered up two tins of IXL jam. ‘Something up?’
‘You could say that,’ he growled.
Molly put down the jam and folded her arms. ‘What’s happened? It’s not one of the horses, is it?’
Joe shook his head. ‘It’s you, Ma.’
‘Me?’ Her eyes widened. ‘But what could I have done to upset you? I’ve been out all day.’
‘Too right you have,’ he said sourly. ‘You made yourself scarce, and left me to deal with the flaming mess you left behind.’
Her face reddened, but she lifted her chin in defiance. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You know very well what I’m talking about, so don’t play the innocent.’ He kept his voice low, but his frustration was at boiling point. ‘Do you know what kind of day I’ve had?’ He didn’t wait for a reply and hurried on. ‘I went to meet the boat, and there was Gwen Cole, as bold as brass in her ute.’
Molly paled and sank into a chair.
‘Everyone saw her, and it was like walking on eggshells knowing they were watching me, waiting to get their first glimpse of the woman I was meeting, and relishing a showdown between them.’
‘How was I to know Gwen would turn up? It was hardly my fault.’ Her hands fluttered in her lap. ‘As for the audience – it was only to be expected after all the gossip.’
‘I suppose it was,’ he admitted, ‘but Gwen didn’t help by trying to mow Lulu down with her ute.’
The eyes widened as she gasped. ‘She didn’t!’
‘She got damned close to it,’ he said. ‘Luckily Lulu wasn’t hurt – but it shook her up no end.’
Her worried expression turned to scorn. ‘So it’s Lulu now, is it? I might have known it wouldn’t take her long to wind you around her little finger.’ She paused. ‘Like mother, like daughter,’ she muttered.
He swallowed the sharp retort, knowing it wouldn’t help. ‘She’s a nice lady – and I use that word purposely, because that’s exactly what she is – a lady. Her friend is a bit too like Eliza, but she seems pleasant enough when she isn’t putting on airs and graces.’
Molly’s eyes narrowed. ‘There are two of them?’
‘Yes, and they’re stuck down there in the valley with no proper washing facilities and no transport. How the hell can I let Dolly use our bathroom and deny it to Lulu? She already has a fair idea of what’s going on, and it won’t be long before they demand to be rehoused.’
‘I see.’ Molly studied her hands, which were knotted in her lap. She raised her head and regarded him hopefully. ‘They can still go to the Gearings.’
‘No, they can’t,’ he snapped. ‘They have a right to be here. Damn it, Ma, can’t you see what an impossible position you’ve put me in?’ He took a series of deep breaths in an effort to remain calm. ‘Lulu and Dolly are sophisticated, intelligent young women. We have insulted and humiliated them by putting them down there, and I will not let it continue.’
‘What exactly does that mean?’ Her whole posture was confrontational.
‘They will move in here,’ he said firmly, ‘and be treated with respect and good old-fashioned Tasmanian hospitality, just like all our other owners.’
‘I won’t have it.’
‘It’s not up to you.’
‘Then I’ll move in with Doreen,’ she said defiantly.
His bark of laughter rang out. ‘Doreen would love that – she’d spread that tasty morsel the length and breadth of Tasmania in less than ten minutes.’ He sat opposite her, his voice low and conciliatory. ‘There’s been enough gossip already, Ma. Don’t make it worse.’
Her gaze dropped to her hands, now clasped on the table. ‘There won’t be room for all of us,’ she said quietly, ‘Eliza’s due to arrive soon.’
‘I’ll clear out all the junk from the smallest bedroom. She can sleep in there.’
‘She’s used to the big room. She won’t like it.’
‘Then she’ll have to go down to Dad’s shed.’
‘You can’t put her …’ She bit her lip, realising she’d fallen into his trap.
‘Exactly my point,’ he replied. ‘If it’s not good enough for Eliza, it’s certainly not good enough for anyone else.’
Molly remained silent as the clock ticked, the dogs snored beneath the table and Dianne slipped into the room almost unnoticed. Molly finally looked back at him, her demeanour defeated. ‘What do you make of her, Joe?’
He thought for a moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing now it looked as if he had his mother onside. ‘She’s tall and thin and speaks with a real Pommy accent. I’d guess she’s been well educated, and by the look of her clothes, she isn’t poor. She knows about horses though, and has already made friends with the Child.’
Her gaze was discerning. ‘You like her, don’t you?’
He nodded. ‘She’s a dinkum sheila and no mistake, and I reckon you’ll find she’s nothing like Gwen.’
‘She’s still her daughter,’ she said with a flash of defiance, ‘and blood will out, mark my words.’
Joe sighed and took her hands. ‘At least give her a go, Ma.’
Molly’s prolonged silence had him on edge before she squeezed his fingers and pulled away. ‘I’ll get Dianne to make up the spare room while you go and fetch them,’ she said flatly.
*
Dolly was in a much calmer frame of mind. She’d had her meagre bath, changed into warmer clothes and poured a glass of champagne. But her expression was concerned as she leant over the bed. ‘You don’t look at all well, Lulu darling. Have you taken your pills?’
‘Yes,’ Lulu muttered. Despite the tablets, her heart was still beating like a battering ram against her ribs. ‘I’ve overdone it, that’s all,’ she managed. She lay back on the pillows, the cool, damp cloth on her forehead going some way towards easing a pounding headache.
Dolly finished lighting the kerosene lamps, blew out the match and flicked her fringe out of her eyes. The bed dipped as she sat on the edge. ‘I’m so sorry I lost my temper. It wasn’t fair after everything that’s happened today. And I bet you walked back to the farm to look at the colt, didn’t you?’
Lulu nodded and winced as the pain shot behind her eyes and into the back of her neck. The long uphill walk, the confrontations, tears and heat had drained her and she felt as weak as a kitten.
‘You’ve probably got heatstroke. I’d better go up to the house and get them to ring for a doctor.’
‘No.’
Lulu grabbed her hand. ‘I’ll be fine if you just leave me to rest.’
‘I’m not leaving you anywhere,’ Dolly muttered. She crossed the wooden floor, her high heels rapping on the bare boards. ‘I’ve got some aspirin,’ she said. ‘We’ll see how you are in an hour’s time, and if there’s no improvement I am calling a doctor.’
‘Please don’t fuss,’ Lulu whispered, having dutifully swallowed the pills. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘You’d be even better if you weren’t in this hovel,’ hissed Dolly. ‘Now night has fallen, it’s positively freezing.’ She shivered and rubbed her arms. ‘God only knows what’s lurking out there.’ She pulled the blanket to Lulu’s chin and patted her cheek. ‘I’ll let the aspirin do its work. Now, go to sleep. I’m here if you need me.’
Lulu closed her eyes as Dolly kicked off her shoes and climbed, fully dressed, into her own bed. Her heart was already slowing to a more even rhythm, and she was feeling sleepy.
*
Joe switched off the engine and regarded the flickering lanterns in the cabin window. He had rehearsed what he was going to say, and as he approached the veranda he went over it again. He raised his hand to knock just as Dolly opened the door.
‘Have you brought our supper?’ Dolly stood before him, bundled in at least three layers of clothing.
Joe took off his hat. ‘Tea will be about another hour,’ he said, his prepared speech in ruins at her interruption.
Dolly raised an eyebrow and closed the door softly behind her. ‘So why have you come?’
He pulled the tatters of his announcement together and blurted out, ‘I’ve come to collect you and Lulu and take you up to the house. If you bring enough things to see you through tonight, I’ll fetch the rest of your stuff tomorrow.’
Dolly folded her arms and leant on the doorpost, a hint of wry amusement in the curl of her lips. ‘So we’ve finally passed muster with your mama, have we?’
‘It’s not like that,’ he muttered, mangling his hat. ‘We just decided it would be too cold and isolated down here for you.’
Ocean Child Page 18
