A Greater World: A woman's journey

by Clare Flynn

  'Elizabeth!' he looked both shocked and overjoyed to see her sitting at his bedside. 'What's happened? Where am I?'

  'You're safe with me at Wilton's Creek. Can you manage a bit of clear beef broth, my darling?'

  A look of alarm crossed his face as the memory of the fight rushed back. 'Where's Nat? What happened?'

  'Nat's gone. We'll talk about it later. You need to rest and get well.'

  His eyes darted round the room and he realised he was in his father's bed. At the same moment he became aware of the pain and with a groan, sank back and closed his eyes, just as the ambulance pulled onto the hard standing outside the house.

  Once she had seen Will safely installed in the small hospital at McDonald Falls, her thoughts turned to Michael. She went to the post office to send a telegram.

  TERRIBLE ACCIDENT WILL INJURED AND BROTHER NAT SHOT DEAD - STOP - KIDD ARRESTED - STOP - GO WITHOUT ME - STOP - SEND ADDRESS I WILL FOLLOW WHEN ABLE - STOP - E.

  At the same time she sent a second telegram, addressed to Harriet.

  WILL IN HOSPITAL - STOP - NOT SERIOUS BUT NATHANIAL DEAD AND JACK ARRESTED COME QUICKLY STOP E KIDD

  Over the next few days, Will gained strength. Elizabeth helped him walk a few steps across the ward and sit upright in a chair. When she felt he was strong enough to bear it, she broke the news of his brother's death and his father's arrest. He bit his lip and gripped her hand. As she looked at his face to read his reaction, she saw something in him had changed. The wide-eyed enthusiastic teenager had gone, and there was a world-weariness in his face.

  Doctor Reilly visited daily and showed his approval of Will's progress. When Will was fit enough to return to home, Verity was waiting at Kinross House for them, standing beside Mrs Oates and Mary in a welcoming line-up. As they embraced, Elizabeth saw that Verity was crying.

  Once Will was dispatched to his bed, they sat down in the drawing room.

  Verity said, 'I can't believe it, Elizabeth. I don't know why the good Lord has sent you so many troubles. It's not right. It's not fair.'

  Elizabeth was silent, but inside her, despite all this, the thought that drowned out all others but could never be expressed, was that she had to go through all this without Michael. She pulled herself up to her full height and took a deep breath. 'I have to be strong. My husband needs that. I have to be there for him.'

  'I'm sure they won't hold him long. They can't possibly. He did what any man would do in the circumstances. He protected his family from an intruder. The police will realise there's no case to answer and he'll come home soon.'

  'It's not so straightforward. The intruder was his own son, Verity.'

  Verity gasped. 'Nathaniel?' Her hand was clasped to her mouth.

  Elizabeth noded.

  'Everyone thought he was dead,' said Verity. 'He hasn't been seen in years. Mr Kidd thought he was an intruder?'

  'I don't think so. I think he knew exactly who he was.'

  'Dear goodness! Tell me what happened.'

  'Nat turned up out of the blue at Wilton's Creek. He surprised me and made advances to me. Very aggressively. Will arrived and came to my rescue. Nat pulled a knife on him and my husband shot Nat to save Will.'

  'Goodness gracious!'

  'I gave the police a statement and told them that Jack was acting to defend both Will and me. Nat was a nasty piece of work.'

  'I hope and pray Mr Kidd will be released soon. What on earth made Nat attack you?'

  'He wanted money and was trying to force me to help him get it from his father. I refused. Maybe I should have said I'd help him. He said he'd been in the war. Perhaps he was shell-shocked? But I didn't like him, Verity. There was something frightening about him. I didn't trust him. But look what's happened now...'

  'Don't blame yourself. And don't worry about Mr Kidd. The police will understand. The whole town knows Nat Kidd was no good. Hattie said he kicked and hit their mother, God rest her soul. They're bound to let Mr Kidd come home soon.'

  'That's unlikely. The New South Wales Police take a pretty dim view when someone is shot in the back, regardless of the circumstances. They've told us they intend to charge him with murder.'

  Verity clasped her hand to her mouth with a little strangled cry.

  Miranda passed the telegram back to Harriet.

  'Hell's bells, Hat, what a terrible thing. What exactly happened?'

  'You can read as well as I can. Pa's in jail, Will's in hospital and Nat's dead.'

  'I thought Nat died years ago? Where's he been all this time?'

  'In the army. He was in Gallipoli and since the war ended he's been living in Perth. He turned up here last week. I was so shocked to see him I let him in but it turned out he just wanted money. I wish he had died years ago. After what he did to Ma. I hate him. I'm glad he's dead.'

  'Are you going to go to the Falls? It sounds like your step mother needs you.'

  Harriet raised her eyes. 'She can go to hell. I called Kinross House and Mrs Oates says Will's going to be all right and is already out of hospital. There's nothing I can do and I'm not dancing to that woman's tune. Besides I need your help.'

  'Me? What can I do?'

  'I need you to run a little errand tomorrow. Read this.' She handed another brown telegram form to her friend.

  Miranda read it quickly and looked up. 'My God! They were having an affair and she's running away with him! You were right about him after all. What a bastard. You're well rid of him. But this is addressed to him. What if he finds out you've read it?'

  'He won't. He was out when it came, presumably buying their tickets to New Zealand. I'm not going to let him see it as if he reads it, he won't get on that boat without her and I want him gone as soon as possible. The sooner he's off the sooner I get my divorce. And I can't stand the sight of him any more.'

  'But when she doesn't turn up to get the boat he's unlikely to go without her. He's bound to go back to the Falls to find her and then you'll be really in the soup as he'll discover you took the telegram.'

  'That's where you come in, my dear Randa. Let me explain.'

  It was almost time for sailing and there was still no sign of her. Michael paced up and down the deck, growing more anxious. He stationed himself near the top of the gangplank where he had a good view over the quayside. A few last stragglers made their way on board and he watched the crew make the final preparations for departure.

  He looked at his watch and decided that if she didn't turn up in the next five minutes he would disembark and find out why she was delayed. They could take another ship later in the week. There was still time to grab his baggage and get off. Just then he heard a couple of crew members talking. One held a clipboard in his hands and was consulting the list.

  The other man spoke. 'How many we got then, Jim?'

  'All here. We can cast off when you're ready, sir. Three no shows. A couple missed their train and wired to switch to the Friday crossing. Then there's a woman who died. Purser's looking for her travelling companion to break the news. Otherwise it's a full house, sir.'

  'Righto.' He called out to the men at the top of the gangplank. 'Raise it up, boys. Cast her off!'

  Michael grabbed the arm of the man with the clipboard, his chest pounding in fear. 'The woman who died? What was her name?'

  The man looked at him, and then frowned. 'Your name is, sir?

  'Winterbourne.'

  The man nodded. 'I'm very sorry, sir. We had a message this morning from a Miss Verity Radley to say that Mrs Elizabeth Kidd was killed in a car accident yesterday on her way to the railway station. Miss Radley asked for you to be informed. Mrs Kidd was killed instantly.'

  The world stopped. The words made no sense.

  'It can't be true? She can't be dead.'

  'I'm sorry, sir.' The man laid a hand on Michael's arm and patted it. Then with a shrug towards his crewmate, made his way along the deck, leaving Michael slumped against the railings, his head in his hands, as the ship pulled away from the quay and into the harbour,
churning the blue water into a milky soup.

  Miranda waited on the quayside until she could no longer see the vessel, then made her way up the hill to the cocktail bar of a hotel where Harriet was waiting, her habitual champagne flute in her hand.

  'Well?'

  'He's gone. It's done,' said Miranda and sat down beside her.

  'Then we must celebrate.' Harriet started to fill another glass from the bottle standing in its bucket next to the table.

  'No thank you. I don't feel like celebrating.'

  'Why ever not? We did it! He's gone for good. I'm free at last. If that's not worth a celebration I don't know what is?'

  'I feel ashamed. It was a cruel thing to do. It wasn't even necessary. Why couldn't you have let him have the telegram and let them be together? I thought you wanted to be rid of her too? I can't understand why you should be so selfish.'

  Harriet's face contorted with irritation. 'You know I hate her. And anyway I have plans for her too. The evil conniving, money-grabbing, lying bitch is going to get her just deserts.'

  'You didn't see him, Hat. He crumpled like a house of cards when the man passed the message on. He was a fair way away but I could tell he was devastated. Broken hearted. I felt awful. It was so unnecessary. He did nothing wrong to you. How can you take pleasure in destroying his life like that?'

  'How can you even ask me that, Randa, after what he's done? Marrying me when he was in love with her. Cheating my Pa out of his money. And her cheating me and Will out of what's ours. It's her fault my brother's dead. It's her fault Pa's in gaol. Why the hell should I give a damn that he's broken hearted? He'll get over it. At least he's free. At least he's alive. It's more than he deserves.'

  'I'm sorry, Harriet. I want no more to do with this and with you. I feel ashamed and I wish I could undo what I've done. Don't call me again. You're no longer my friend. You're no longer welcome in my home.'

  She walked out of the bar. Harriet stared after her, stunned at the outburst, then shrugged and called to the waiter. 'Bring me another bottle of this.'

  Elizabeth longed to be with Michael. If she had agreed to run away with him immediately, Will would not be wounded, Nat would still be alive and Jack Kidd would not be locked in a prison cell.

  She wanted to confide in Verity, but feared the older woman would disapprove of her liaison with Michael and she didn't want to risk the only friendship and source of support she had.

  The days became weeks and she heard nothing from Michael. He must be in Auckland by now so why he had not written? She had no idea of his final destination there and no means of finding out.

  The silence from Michael was matched by silence from Harriet. Neither of them had acknowledged their telegrams. Elizabeth fretted that they had not been delivered but after checking with the post office was assured that they had. She tried to reach Harriet on the telephone but the housekeeper told her the girl was out every time she called.

  She prevailed upon Verity to speak to Hattie. When Verity put down the telephone receiver, there were tears on her cheeks. The schoolmistress reported back that as far as Harriet was concerned, her father was dead to her.

  Verity said, 'I don't understand. She was such a nice little girl, but as she grew up I let myself become blind to what she was becoming. I can't believe it – to be so cruel about her father.'

  'I'm sorry you had to hear her speak that way – but I can't say I'm surprised.'

  'She said Mr Winterbourne has gone overseas. Probably back to England. She sounded pleased. What can have happened between them?'

  Elizabeth felt herself blushing but Verity didn't notice.

  Elizabeth asked, 'Is she in contact with him?'

  'No. They quarrelled before he left. She doesn't seem to care that he's gone. She kept saying she's happy to be free of him. I hope her poor father doesn't find out - as if he doesn't have enough to worry about. And the mine? What's to become of the coal mine? With both Mr Kidd and Mr Winterbourne gone and Will sick.' She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief.

  'The mine! I'd forgotten about that. I must find out what his wishes are.'

  'There are so many men in this town whose livelihoods depend on it,' said Verity.

  'Right. They need to be paid, at least until alternative arrangements can be made.' As she spoke, she felt a surge of energy. She could not prevent her husband's incarceration. She could not bring her children back. She would be separated from Michael until he wrote to her and until the trial was over. But meanwhile she could do something about the colliery and about Will and she could try to protect the livelihoods of the miners and their families.

  'I'll go there and find out what needs to be done. I don't want Jack worrying about that on top of everything else.'

  'Elizabeth! Really! What do you know about running a coal mine!' Verity's face was a picture of disbelief. 'You can't possibly be serious?'

  'Oh but I can! And I am!'

  'But what...how?'

  'I don't know. I'll find a way though!' She jumped up and rang the bell. Mrs Oates appeared in the doorway.

  'Ma'am?'

  'Mrs Oates, I need to talk to someone about the colliery. Does Mr Kidd have a lawyer, or an accountant – someone who knows the business and can help me understand what's going on? The workmen need to be paid so I'll have to make arrangements on Mr Kidd's behalf to keep things going in his absence.'

  'Mr Oates can tell you, Ma'am. He's in the garage - I'll send him in.'

  Oates raised his eyebrows when Elizabeth explained what she wanted. 'Mr Robinson the accountant might be able to give you the information you require. But...'

  'I need to review the books so the employees can be paid. Oates, take me to this Mr Robinson now, please.'

  'But Elizabeth, don't you think you should speak to Mr Kidd first?' Verity was looking nervous.

  'No time like the present, Verity! He has more than enough on his plate.' She hugged her friend, then with a brisk 'Come on, Mr Oates, let's get a move on!' she left the room.

  Chapter Twenty-Three – At the Colliery

  The late afternoon sun burst through the clouds and lit up the escarpment. The ground dipped away in front, giving a view of the tall trees and the sandstone cliffs on the opposite side of the gorge. The treetops were densely packed and looked like a crumpled green counterpane. The top of the escarpment was flat and wooded above the hard edges of the exposed cliffs below, bathed in yellow sunlight with ridges and gullies carving their way down the surface, so the rock stood out in sharp contrast to the green of the trees, like a giant hunk of blue-veined cheese. It was all so wild, so vast and so empty that Elizabeth caught her breath. No matter how often she looked at these mountains, the changing light made them look fresh and different and she never tired of their savage beauty.

  The car swept down the hill into a section of road that was new to her and she regretted how little she had explored the area beyond the town and Wilton's Creek in the time she had lived here. The trees crowded close to the sides of the road and obscured the view. The air was chilly and she drew her coat closer around her. Mr Oates nodded his head at the road ahead. 'We're approaching the mine, Madam.'

  They passed under a wooden archway bearing the roughly painted words Black Water Colliery. It didn't inspire confidence in the scale and professionalism of the operation. The road ahead was a rough dirt track, bordered on both sides by dense ferns and bushes but as they rounded the corner, the site opened out to reveal a collection of buildings: a tall brick chimney, a pair of large wooden towers with wheels and pulleys and a collection of single storey buildings and sheds. In front of it all were heaps of coal and a number of wooden trucks, filled with yet more coal, ready to make their way down the hill on a single-track railway that disappeared into the trees at the edge of the site. In the distance there was a collection of huts, some with canvas stretched across tree bark frames, others made of galvanised tin. Small children played in the dirt in front of the huts – or humpies as she knew they were called: t
he humble dwellings of many of the mineworkers and their families.

  Oates pulled up beside one of the brick buildings and a short fat man with a bow tie and a resemblance to Fatty Arbuckle waddled over.

  'It's Mrs Kidd, isn't it?' He held out his hand to her. 'I'm Henry Robinson, Chief Accountant at Black Water.'

  Elizabeth resisted the temptation to dislike him at first sight. Everyone deserves a chance she told herself, while shuddering as his limp, sweaty palm held hers.

  'Mr Robinson, as you know, my husband is in some trouble at the moment.'

  The man nodded.

  She hesitated, and then decided to say as little as possible. 'I need to understand the financial situation. Following my husband's absence and the departure of Mr Winterbourne, I've decided to find out how things are and see how I can help.'

  The man barely tried to conceal his derision, letting a little snort escape and then half heartedly attempting to cover this up by pretending to cough. 'You don't need to worry, Mrs Kidd. I have those matters under control.'

  'Who's in charge?'

  'I am. I do the books and pay the wages. The men turn up for their shifts or they don't get paid. The shift foremen make sure the work gets done and the chief engineer checks everything's working as it should. Nothing for you to be concerned about, Ma'am. I've been here twenty years, since Mr McDonald was the owner and I run a tight ship.' His face was smug and she had a sudden desire to slap it.

  'I'd like to see the books.'

  'I don't think that's either necessary or appropriate, Mrs Kidd.' He folded his arms and puffed out his chest, over the top of his large sloping stomach. His brown suit was so tight that the waistcoat gaped between the buttons to reveal little splashes of white fabric from the shirt underneath. It must have been a long time since he'd seen his feet.

  'Well, Mr Robinson, I do. So shall we get on with it?' Before he could answer, she swept past him into the building. Three men were sitting with their heads bent over ledgers and plans. All of them looked up in surprise as she wished them a good afternoon. She looked around the room. The walls were furnished with a blackboard, a map of the surrounding area and a series of charts showing geological cross-sections and technical drawings of the coal seams and the mine workings.