Sisters of Freedom

by Mary-Anne O'Connor

  But where was she? And what happened to her? No-one had any answers and every theory was a sickening one, but Frankie was certain that Patrick Earle had had nothing to do with it. He may well be bit pompous and, yes, perhaps even a snob, but there was no cruelty in the man that Frankie had ever witnessed, and the expression on his face when they’d seen him crouched with his fingers touching blood was one of true shock and horror. That they’d have to deal with him facing trial seemed an unnecessary nightmare upon the one they were already living through. In truth, Frankie didn’t know how much they could all bear as each wretched repercussion of Ivy’s disappearance unfolded.

  Disappearance. Frankie clutched onto the word, a precious reminder that there was still hope. There was no answer to Ivy’s whereabouts and therefore no tragedy had yet come to pass. Her investigative journalism skills kicked in then. Let others deal with this as they must but Frankie needed to face this the only way she knew how: facts first and head on.

  Her pacing had turned into a determined march and she went back through the house to gather her things, deciding she needed to have another talk to Patrick, the last one to see Ivy, to try to ascertain any further possible clues. She doubted he was getting any sleep either.

  Frankie hastily scribbled a note for her parents before grabbing a hat from the stand and swinging open the front door. She screamed at what she saw.

  Sixteen

  Aggie woke with a start, leaping from the bed. Frankie was shrieking. She tried not to panic as she grabbed her dressing gown and ran down the hall. Pretty Boy was screeching as Robert’s hurried footsteps pounded and Aggie braced herself for whatever terrible scene she might find.

  ‘What is it?’ Harriet asked from her bedroom door, her expression terrified.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Aggie threw over her shoulder, rushing down the stairs. Harriet followed, along with a coughing Albert. Aggie landed at the bottom as Robert rushed to stand in front of Frankie, shielding her from the rough-looking man on the doorstep.

  ‘I’m sorry, miss, I’m s-so sorry,’ the man was stuttering.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ Robert demanded. Aggie drew closer and put her arm around her sister.

  The bushy-faced man gaped at them all, twisting his hat nervously.

  ‘Who is this—’ Albert said as he arrived with Harriet but he was interrupted by a terrible sneeze.

  ‘Bless you,’ Aggie muttered automatically, still staring at the man. Dishevelled and smelling strongly of fish, he looked around at them all, obviously overwhelmed.

  ‘I was just about to knock when she … she opened … I’m sorry, miss,’ he said again. ‘Didn’t mean to give you a fright.’

  ‘Who are you and what are you doing here in the middle of the night?’ Robert said. The man looked rather afraid now.

  ‘I don’t mean no harm … I’m Barney Johns. I work over at the orchards. At Galston.’

  ‘I’ve heard the name,’ Aggie confirmed, remembering. ‘You’re Emma Higgins’s brother, aren’t you? You work with Joe Collins.’

  ‘Yes,’ Barney said, glancing at her, seeming relieved. ‘At Fagans’ farm.’

  The family looked at him expectantly but he didn’t say more so Robert prompted him again.

  ‘So what are you doing here then? It’s a bit of a way from the orchards.’

  ‘Oh,’ Barney said, patting his pockets before drawing out some letters. ‘I’ve got some messages for you. I was supposed to deliver the first one yesterday but I forgot.’

  He held out the notes and Albert took them. His hands visibly shook as they all watched on with breath held. Please God, let it be news of Ivy, Aggie prayed silently. Good news, she added quickly.

  Albert opened the first and read aloud. ‘Dear Mr Merriweather, please be advised that I have your daughter Ivy safely in my care …’

  ‘Oh dear Lord,’ Harriet said, collapsing against him. Frankie let out a sob and Aggie closed her eyes, almost fainting with relief.

  ‘She …’

  But Albert couldn’t read on as his expression crumpled and he began to weep too, which set off more coughing. Robert took it from him and continued as both her parents sank to the bench near the door.

  She was found unconscious and with a wound to her temple near Apple Tree Bay. As she was alone I feared for her safety and wellbeing so I took her aboard my boat and brought her to my sister Fiona Ryan for nursing care. We live not far from Wisemans Ferry. I apologise for your concern at her disappearance but I acted as the urgency of the situation required and could not get word to you sooner. She is much recovered and I will bring her back to you tomorrow. Please meet me at the wharf at Bobbin Head at approximately one in the afternoon.

  Sincerely,

  Riley Logan.

  ‘Thank God,’ Aggie said, hugging Frankie close before moving over to her weeping parents. ‘It’s all right, she’s found. There now,’ she crooned, crouching before them as they clutched at her hands.

  ‘He … he’s got her, she’s safe …?’ Harriet said tearfully, her hands trembling in Aggie’s own as she sought confirmation that they’d all heard right.

  ‘Yes, Mum, she’s just fine,’ she soothed, but then confusion set in, despite her elation. Frankie asked the question forming in Aggie’s mind.

  ‘Why didn’t he meet us today then?’ Frankie said, and all eyes swung back Barney’s way. ‘We were all down that way, searching.’

  ‘It was the storm,’ Robert guessed. ‘Were they delayed?’

  Barney twisted his hat and nodded awkwardly at the second note still in Robert’s hand. ‘Yes, but she … er … she’s …’

  Frankie grabbed the other note from Robert in a rush and read it aloud. ‘Dear Mr Merriweather, Please be advised that Barney Johns, the man delivering these notes to you, forgot to deliver the first yesterday.’

  She shook her head in disbelief but continued. ‘As you now know, my sister and I have Ivy in our care. Unfortunately we struck a storm on our return and more unfortunately Ivy has taken ill with a fever.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Harriet moaned, clutching at her heart, and Aggie felt her fear rise for her little sister once more.

  We are tending her around the clock but advise you come to us rather than we come to you now as she is too sick to travel. Otherwise I can return her when she is well. Barney can give you directions to where we are or you can send word via him.

  Sincerely,

  Riley Logan.

  ‘I’ll go to her,’ Frankie said, eyes flicking straight to her parents.

  ‘No, no, it should be me …’ Albert began but his coughing stopped him once more.

  ‘Dad, you’re too sick,’ Aggie told him gently. ‘Let Frankie and Robert and I go. Mum can stay and look after you.’

  Harriet nodded, relief and concern etched on her face. ‘Yes, yes, you don’t want to make each other worse. If she gets your cold and you get her fever …’

  ‘We can go to her,’ Robert told her parents. Aggie looked over at him gratefully. ‘But I do think someone should send word to Patrick before we do anything,’ he added, ‘and we’d better tell the police while we’re at it.’

  ‘Yes, do that for me, will you, Robert?’ Albert wheezed. ‘And Frankie and Aggie, perhaps you two could … get word … to Patrick.’

  ‘Um, excuse me,’ Barney began, shuffling on the doorstep and glancing over at his tethered horse. Aggie realised she’d quite forgotten he was there. ‘If you don’t mind, I have to set off for work so if you don’t need me no more …’

  ‘Of course we need you. How else will we know where to find her?’ Frankie said, frowning.

  ‘Oh, right.’

  Aggie was beginning to see why the first note had been forgotten. The man was obviously a bit dim-witted but he knew where Ivy was so she forced herself to remain patient.

  ‘What’s the quickest possible way to get to there?’ Aggie asked, her tone gentle compared to Frankie’s.

  ‘Well, with the tides bein’ so low there ain’t
much point setting off before dawn, less dangerous in the daylight too. If you leave then you’d get there round eight or so, I’d say.’

  ‘That’s good to know but, again, what way can we get there?’ Aggie asked. ‘Are there ferries running?’ She’d never thought to ask how people travelled all the way upriver before.

  ‘What way?’ Barney said, appearing confused. ‘Well, by boat, miss.’

  Robert sent her a look and Aggie tried not roll her eyes.

  ‘Yes, but whose bloody boat can we use?’ Frankie said, obviously tiring of Aggie’s patient approach.

  Barney’s jaw dropped at Frankie’s swearing but he recovered himself. ‘Don’t know anyone who’d give you their boat,’ he began slowly, but then an idea seemed to occur to him. ‘But I could take you, if you like,’ he offered. ‘I’ve room enough for one or two, anyway.’

  ‘That would be much appreciated,’ Aggie said, standing up and nodding her thanks.

  ‘Right then,’ Frankie said brusquely. ‘I’ll get packing after we return from Patrick’s. We’ll meet you down there, shall we? At the pier?’

  Barney looked like he couldn’t have argued if he tried, simply nodding now as Frankie marched out the door. ‘Oh,’ she said, turning back. ‘You’d better take this,’ she said, giving Robert the second letter she was still holding. ‘The police will want proof. You coming, Aggie?’

  ‘Not in my night things. Give me a minute, all right?’

  Frankie looked at Aggie’s dressing gown in surprise. ‘Well … I suppose we can’t set off for another few hours anyway.’

  ‘Yes, just slow down a minute or two, Frankie,’ Albert said, sneezing once more before continuing with difficulty. ‘There’s other things … to consider, like whether or not Dr Pratt can go.’

  ‘That old shonk …’ Frankie began, but Aggie left her family to argue that one out while she dashed upstairs to get dressed. Robert called his goodbyes, rushing off to tell the authorities the wondrous news that Ivy had been found alive. Sick or no, Aggie vowed to get her well and safely home with or without the help of a second-rate doctor. Ivy was her baby sister, a relationship that had never seemed more precious than these last few days. Just let some fever try to take her away from Aggie now.

  Seventeen

  He was trembling as he waited, the muffled drone of voices carrying from downstairs. That it was Frankie and Aggie talking to his parents and the policeman who kept watch over him was clear. What the conversation was about was not. Patrick thought he might be sick, so coiled was his gut, so frantic the race of his heart. Whether it bode ill or well that Ivy’s sisters were delivering news to the household in person, and in the middle of the night, his fear-stricken mind couldn’t ascertain. All he knew as the sound of footsteps approached was that his entire future depended on the next words he would hear. A life in prison, a life in mourning, perhaps no life at all.

  The doorknob turned and Patrick raised his eyes.

  His gaze swung from Frankie to Aggie as they stood in front of him. Then Frankie did the very last thing Patrick would have expected: she smiled.

  ‘Ivy’s alive.’

  Patrick’s knees gave way as he slumped onto his chair and stared at her in disbelief. Then he looked to Aggie, silently pleading those words be uttered again.

  ‘She is, Patrick, she’s alive,’ she said, smiling through her tears.

  ‘She’s …?’ But the shock was too great for any words and he found himself weeping into his hands, not for sorrow, fear or despair, but for the sweetest of emotions, relief. He never thought anything could surpass his love for Ivy but this feeling eclipsed it as Patrick registered the enormity of such a wondrous truth. She lived.

  Aggie placed a hand on his shoulder and he clutched at it gratefully, looking up at Frankie. His parents had entered the room behind her.

  ‘The guard has gone home. You’re a free man, son,’ his father said, his voice shaking.

  ‘Ridiculous business, having him here,’ his mother Sybil muttered, but Patrick ignored her to look back at Frankie.

  ‘Where is she? Can I see her?’

  ‘Not quite that simple, I’m afraid,’ Frankie told him. ‘She’s alive but she’s not well. She was found unconscious and picked up by a passing boatman who thought she was alone so he took her home to his sister upriver and now … well, she has a fever, I’m afraid.’

  ‘A fever …?’ Patrick repeated as his common sense slowly returned. ‘I … I have to go to her …’

  He stood, looking about him in confusion.

  ‘There’s no need for you to do that. Her family are already going to her aid, Patrick,’ Sybil said, disapproval creeping in to her tone.

  ‘Aggie and I are going,’ Frankie told him, ‘and Robert and perhaps Dr Pratt. We’ll need extra transport, though, as the boat can only fit two of us so …’

  ‘I’m going,’ Patrick said firmly. ‘She … she was under my care when this happened to her. My responsibility. I have to see her for myself. I have to go.’

  ‘Patrick, I really think—’ his mother began again.

  ‘Son, this simply isn’t necessary,’ Douglas interrupted with finality. ‘Let the Merriweathers deal with this situation as a family. You can see her when she returns, soon enough.’

  His mother merely raised her eyebrows as if to suggest Patrick should have nothing to do with Ivy at all after this and it made his next decision a swift and clear one.

  ‘I am going to Ivy Merriweather and I’m going to sit by her side until she is completely recovered,’ her said, looking from Sybil to Douglas. ‘You can’t stop me. I’m a grown man.’

  It was the first time he’d ever stood up to his father and Patrick lifted his chin, defiant and expecting a fight, but Douglas didn’t respond. He merely levelled a thoughtful glance at his son then nodded, a flicker of admiration there.

  ‘You can’t possibly let him go,’ Sybil spluttered, but Douglas merely raised his hand, denoting an end to any further discussion.

  ‘You heard the man, Sybil,’ he said.

  ‘Well, come if you must but we’re going to need another boat,’ Frankie said in her outspoken way, drawing Patrick’s focus back to Ivy.

  ‘We’ll figure something out. Just give me a moment to get my things.’

  They left, Sybil still voicing objections all the way down the hall.

  ‘But how long will he be gone for? What about his studies? His, oh dear Lord, his cricket tour! What if he misses it? They can’t possibly go without him.’

  Such issues as potentially deferring study and missing out on sport, even procuring an extra vessel in the middle of the night, seemed ridiculously minor details now that Ivy had been found alive. Patrick briefly wondered if he’d ever worry about life’s smaller challenges again.

  He packed hurriedly, only pausing to look out at the moon through his window one last time before he left. It shone brilliantly in the sky now, all traces of cloud cover gone, and Patrick turned and left the bedroom that had been a cell this past day and night to journey to Ivy and help her fight this fever. To bring her home, healthy and safe at last, and to reclaim his freedom, while she reclaimed her life.

  Eighteen

  ‘Of all the bloody buggery things,’ Frankie spluttered. Barney’s expression was scandalised as he did his best to move the coils of ropes she’d managed to get her feet tangled up in. How Patrick had ended paired up with her while Aggie and Robert would follow with the doctor in a hired vessel later in the day was something he was still trying to figure out, but getting to Ivy as soon as possible suited him fine. Frankie’s company, however, could prove another matter.

  She was fired up with determination and concern over her sister, and the combination was resulting in a string of calamities that were distracting and annoying but, Patrick had to admit, unexpectedly amusing too. That she had him smiling a few times was rather miraculous considering all he’d been through and the lack of sleep he’d endured, not to mention the worry about Ivy’s fever that
hung over them both.

  Still, when she’d tried to pat a pelican as they waited for Barney to bring the boat around and ended up being defecated on by the less-than-impressed bird, it was all he could do not to burst out laughing at her horrified expression.

  ‘Eww, it smells like rotten fish,’ she’d complained, swatting at the stains ineffectually. It did too, which rendered the situation even funnier. Watching her entangled as she was after tripping over a bait bucket was pretty comical too, especially witnessing poor Barney trying to assist.

  ‘You all right there?’ Patrick enquired and she shoved a strand of blonde hair out of her face as she fumed.

  ‘Stupid, rotten, flipping …’ Barney managed to free her then, ending further colourful phrases, and he was able to get the steam up so they could set off.

  The morning was already warm, despite the early hour, and the water looked pristine and calm as Barney’s boat cut a clear arrow on the glassy surface, breaking the mirrored reflection of sky and shore.

  Patrick’s amusement faded as they glided along through the otherwise still, empty place, soon passing Apple Tree Bay. It felt strange being here again, at the scene of the crime, or so that very spot had been supposed until the early hours of this morning. The residual fear over Ivy’s disappearance still seemed to cling to the sandstone and gum-strewn shoreline, even though the mystery was now solved. Patrick had to remind himself over and again that she was alive and he was on his way to see that miracle for himself. The boat’s chug was a steady reassurance of that fact as it echoed down the bay’s tunnelled walls.