‘“The Little Mermaid” is a good one. I read it to them last week and they loved it, as you can probably tell from their disappointment that I hadn’t brought a real one home,’ he said and she smiled at him again, holding his gaze. ‘I can understand their mistake, I suppose,’ he added softly, tracing her long red curls with his eyes. ‘Thinking you were a sea princess.’
An indiscernible expression crossed her face then but the sound of a footstep switched his attention. It was Fiona and the girls bringing breakfast.
‘Quietly now,’ Fiona instructed as they brought in plates of beans on damper but her eyes were on Riley, far too much knowing in her stare.
‘Beans all done?’ Riley said, ignoring the look and standing instead.
‘Yes, let’s make the tea, shall we? How are you faring this morning, Ivy?’ she asked, bustling about now, and Riley took his breakfast on deck to give her more room. The twins went with him and jumped around, investigating everything as they always did.
‘Did you eat the beans too?’ Riley asked them.
‘Nuh, we had eggs. Pink ones,’ Annie told him.
‘I thought I told you those colouring bottles I gave you were meant for cake icing.’
‘Ain’t got no cake,’ Tricia said. ‘Can we go fishing today, Uncle Riley?’ she asked, peering into the bait bucket hopefully.
‘Nuh, he’s gotta look after Ivy, don’t you? She’s gone and got sick from the scales on her head.’
‘Yes, not today,’ Riley said, eating his breakfast. ‘We may get some visitors though.’
That made the twins very excited and they fired him with questions, leaning their little hands on his knees and bobbing about.
‘Who’s coming? Do they like playing games?’
‘Will they bring us lollies?’
‘I hope they bring me a puppy.’
That last comment from Tricia made Riley chuckle. ‘Now why would they bring a puppy?’
‘I would if I was visiting somebody. When I grow up I’m going to give everyone puppies everywhere I go,’ she declared, twirling about.
‘Who’s coming?’ Annie demanded again.
‘I’m not sure,’ Riley told her. ‘I just think some of Ivy’s family may come to see her and check if she’s feeling better.’
‘Ohh,’ they both said.
‘Are they boys or girls?’ Tricia asked.
‘She has sisters and parents,’ Riley replied, wondering again about the name Patrick. ‘I’m not sure who else might come.’
‘We could make them a cake,’ Annie said, latching on to his previous comment, hope lighting up her face. ‘If we had some sugar …’
‘Why don’t you ask your mother if I’m allowed to give you some?’ he said, remembering he had some packed away downstairs.
‘Mum!’ they immediately cried out.
‘Shh, quietly now. If she says yes it’s in the green barrel near the wood crates at the back. Use a cup,’ he advised.
The girls went below deck and Riley finished his breakfast in momentary peace before they dashed back up and over the side of the boat to get cooking. There was a table outside the shack that they used rather than disturb their sleeping father and Riley watched them get organised with amusement. So capable, those two, just like Fiona. He wondered if the next baby would be a girl too, hoping that, whatever gender it was, it was nothing like George.
The shadows from last night threatened to return but he decided not to dwell on his brother-in-law this morning. He tried not to think too much about Ivy either but found it impossible. He could hear her voice as she made the occasional comment to Fiona and the trust in her eyes wouldn’t leave his mind. Perhaps just another check on her, he decided as he stood, but the sound of an approaching vessel halted him in his tracks.
It was Barney. Riley recognised his boat at once, although he couldn’t make out who was on board. Whoever had come for Ivy, he just hoped they would understand his actions and not judge him too harshly for having brought her here to be nursed in such rudimentary accommodation.
It made him nervous to think who may arrive and what that meant for his role in Ivy Merriweather’s life, a short part but with devastating impact all the same. Perhaps any further involvement with her would end, should they decide to take her straight home. Riley wasn’t ready for that, especially if the man called Patrick was the one who took her. She’d been in Riley’s life less than two days but somehow, somewhere along the line, Ivy had got under his skin. He felt almost desperate to halt their approach, his entire being rigid with resistance, yet he could only grip the side of the boat and watch as the people who would ultimately take her from him drew ever closer.
Riley could make them out now: a man and a woman with Barney at the wheel. The woman held her hat and her hair was blonde in the sun. One of her two sisters, he guessed. The man looked fairly young and wore expensive-looking clothes. This was no river man. And Ivy had no brothers.
‘They’re here!’ the girls cried, running down to the shore to wave, and Fiona came up on deck to watch too, sending Riley a thoughtful glance but no comment.
The boat came alongside and Barney called out a greeting before helping the two arrivals onto Riley’s boat.
‘One sister and one friend,’ Barney told Riley and Fiona. ‘Delivered safe and sound. Right you are then, I’ll see you all later on.’ He chugged off, leaving them to introduce themselves.
‘Riley Logan,’ Riley said, ‘and this is my sister Fiona.’
‘Patrick Earle,’ the man told Riley, shaking his hand, and Riley’s heart sank a bit further.
‘Frances Merriweather,’ the woman said with a nod, ‘but please call me Frankie.’ She was taller than Ivy, and rather gorgeous too, but Riley would never have picked them for sisters.
‘Nice to meet you,’ Fiona said. ‘I expect you want to see your sister as soon as possible.’
‘Yes, should we wade or …?’ Frankie said, looking over to the house.
‘Well, no, we have her here on board,’ Fiona said, looking to Riley to explain.
‘We didn’t want to move her about,’ he improvised. ‘She’s just down here.’ He gestured towards the steps and the woman went first, closely followed by the man. Riley went to follow but Fiona halted him.
‘I think we best let them have their privacy,’ she murmured, looking at him meaningfully, and he nodded, knowing she was right but hating the fact.
So Riley simply waited, staring at the river, his closest companion, trying not to hear the depths of emotion erupting below deck as Ivy’s world arrived on his smugglers’ boat in the broad light of day. Already stealing her away.
‘Ivy.’
Frankie was there, like a sudden apparition but also very much flesh and blood as she launched herself upon Ivy to hug her. She could barely breathe, but Ivy didn’t care. Frankie began to cry and Ivy did too, so overcome with the joy of seeing her she couldn’t speak.
‘I was so afraid,’ Frankie wept and Ivy clutched at her.
‘I’m sorry …’ Ivy choked out but Frankie shook her head against her.
‘No, no, none of that,’ she said, her voice muffled by tears. ‘Oh, we were all so scared, Ivy. Everyone thought the worst but I wouldn’t … I couldn’t …’
‘I was supposed to go home yesterday … but now …’
‘Are you all right?’ Frankie said, drawing back to look at her properly and feeling her forehead. ‘Damn, you’re very hot. How’s the injury? Show me your head,’ she added, trying to peer under the bandage.
‘I’m fine,’ Ivy reassured her, smiling through her tears. ‘Just a bit sick, is all.’
‘Oh, buggery and tarnation, what am I doing, lying all over you,’ Frankie said, drawing away now.
‘I don’t care,’ Ivy said, lifting one hand to clasp Frankie’s.
‘I just … oh Ivy, I love you so much,’ Frankie said, pushing back her escaping blonde hair and holding Ivy’s hand tight. ‘We all do.’
‘I love you too,�
�� Ivy told her, tears gathering anew, ‘and I never, ever want to fight with you again. Never again, Frankie. I mean it,’ she emphasised, even though the energy of speaking was costing her.
‘A little healthy debate is good for the soul,’ Frankie told her, smiling fondly. ‘But no angry words, I agree. Never again.’
‘Imagine if they’d been our last?’ Ivy whispered brokenly.
‘Yet they weren’t. No more talk of it now. You need your strength.’
Ivy did feel exhausted but then she noticed someone else in the shadowed corner of the cabin and she gasped.
‘Patrick.’
He came forwards, the light from the open hatch hitting his handsome features, yet he was drawn and pale, the worry and suffering he’d endured apparent.
‘I’m so, so sorry,’ she began all over again.
‘No apologies.’ he said, shaking his head, and kneeling close as Frankie moved aside. ‘Frankie’s right.’
‘I went for a swim. I don’t know why I did it, it was so foolish,’ Ivy told him, crying once more.
‘It was hot,’ Patrick said, swiping at tears of his own. ‘People swim when it’s hot. It’s not your fault this happened, all right? Just so long as you’re safe and you get well now.’
‘What you must have been through …’ Ivy hadn’t really considered what the repercussions might have been for him, aside from the worry, but his haunted expression hinted at far more. ‘You were the last one who saw me.’
‘Yes, but now I’m seeing you again and it’s a sight I’m never going to tire of,’ he told her, taking her hand and kissing her fingers.
She smiled at such sweet, beautiful words but she knew he was hiding the truth of what he’d endured.
‘Did they … blame you?’ she asked him, frowning as she considered that.
‘They were just trying to work things out. No harm done,’ he reassured her. ‘All that matters is that you’re alive and we’re here, talking to you, seeing you …’ He paused as the words caught in his throat and Ivy saw the true cost. He really had feared that she was dead and, what was worse, the police must have considered him responsible.
‘They … they thought you …’
‘It doesn’t matter now,’ he said, his voice hoarse as he stroked her cheek. ‘Let’s just get you well and get you home.’
‘The doctor’s on his way,’ Frankie said from behind him, ‘with Aggie and Robert. Until then we’re here to care for you and give these people a break. I wonder if we can get you off this boat though? It’s a bit cramped.’
‘It’s fine, truly,’ Ivy muttered. Moving seemed a great effort as all the emotion began to take its toll and her head began to ache.
‘I guess we’ll have to see what the doctor has to say,’ Frankie said, watching her thoughtfully. ‘Pratt that he is.’
Ivy smiled but she was fading now. To have them both here all of a sudden was a shock and as much as she felt loved and cared for, she also felt overwhelmed. And weak. Weaker than she’d ever felt in her life.
She closed her eyes and Frankie murmured to Patrick, ‘I think she needs to rest. What if I take first watch and get her cooled down a bit while you go up on deck?’
‘Of course,’ she heard him say but he sounded reluctant, which was touching. She didn’t ponder on it too much though because Frankie was stroking a cool cloth on her forehead and the sensation consumed Ivy’s senses. Her loved ones had come to heal her and get her home and Ivy needed to focus on helping them achieve that end. Any deeper reflections about the heart would just have to wait.
Twenty
Ivy slept but Aggie hadn’t stood still since she’d arrived with Dr Pratt a few hours ago, pacing then nursing her in turn. Her initial fear at finding her sister worse than she expected clung, even though the doctor had said that the fever should soon break. She hung onto that hope like a lifeline. These hours of intense worry had made both above and below deck purgatory on Riley Logan’s boat and Aggie didn’t know which was worse: seeing the others pace and suffer too or watching Ivy. Probably that, she decided, as her sister moaned and tossed and turned, wet strands of red hair sticking to her pink skin. She was barely even aware that Aggie had come.
It was only early afternoon but it seemed like an eternity that she’d been caged in here, restless and powerless to do more. Perhaps it would be better to sit. She did so, watching the rise and fall of her sister’s chest worriedly, praying it would continue to do so. That life would remain in her young body for many years yet to come. The rhythm seemed to match the small clock that ticked on the wall, like her breath was being meted out in exact measures: in, two, three, four; out, two, three, four. And with it the river lapped against the boat, not quite so rhythmical but steady still, cradling the tense little cabin in an unsteady rock. Lap, rock, tick, breath.
It was nearly unbearable yet it was also acting like a drug, and despite the discomfort of the wooden chair eventually Aggie was lulled to sleep. The cabin became a nursery then and there were babies, so many of them, all watching her with lonely blue eyes. All with soft red curls and lifting their chubby hands towards her, aching to be loved. But Aggie’s hands were tied and she couldn’t hold them and they cried.
‘No, no,’ she cried too. ‘Ivy.’
There were notes in her tied hands but the words were blurred from her tears and there was no-one to read what they said. No-one to tell of their fates. Then Robert was there, outside in the water, but he couldn’t get in through the small porthole, and the babies all cried in a rising wail as he called her name.
Aggie. Aggie.
‘Aggie.’
She awoke with a start. Then terror. Where Ivy had been restless, she was now still. Pale where she’d been flushed.
‘Dr Pratt!’
He came immediately with a clatter, Frankie, Robert and Patrick close behind him.
‘I thought she said my name but now she … she’s …’
Ivy looked like a ghost as the doctor took her arm, and it was thin and limp in his hand as he felt her pulse. As he raised his gaze, Aggie felt her entire existence pause as she begged for good news. Kind news. Dear God.
‘It’s broken.’
Aggie stared at him then the enormity of that short statement sank through. He meant the fever.
‘Aggie?’ Ivy said again, opening her eyes.
‘It’s … you’re …’ Aggie collapsed on the sheet, clinging to her as Frankie fell against her too. The doctor moved back to let the three sisters hold one another and weep. For the second time in a day, Aggie felt a relief so great it consumed her entire being, culminating in great sobs as Frankie clutched her other hand and they lay together, not parted after all. The Merriweather girls, together and safe. Three hearts united, as they’d always been.
Aggie lifted her face to look at Ivy, who smiled, and even though it was faint and weak Aggie thought it was the most wonderful sight she’d ever seen. She looked to Frankie, whose tear-streaked visage reflected the same thought.
‘Thank the lord,’ Frankie whispered and although none of them were particularly religious, Aggie did thank a God that seemed suddenly benevolent. She looked over to see Patrick, collapsed on the stairs and crying, and raised her eyes to her husband who stood squashed behind him. Always there. Always strong. Gratitude filled her and the ever-present longing she carried like a stone in her heart receded as Aggie recognised just how much love she already had in her life. Even though there was always room for more, right now, in this cabin, it was overflowing. And enough.
‘She looks like a different person,’ Frankie whispered as they took one last grateful glance at a peacefully sleeping Ivy before going above deck. In a clean night rail and with her hair brushed and tied back she truly did seem transformed and Aggie and Frankie were able to leave her and take in some fresh air at last. Reasonably fresh, at any rate. Large, tell-tale plumes of brown smoke spiralled in the distance and Aggie felt relieved anew at Ivy’s recovery. Bushfire haze would certainly have further ham
pered her breathing. She hoped her poor father’s lungs weren’t too affected back home.
Their ascent was well timed. Riley’s sister Fiona and her little daughters had waded over with the doctor and were passing up tea and cake at the side of the boat.
‘Oh, let me help you,’ Frankie said, rushing with Aggie to help. She sent the empty-handed Dr Pratt a look. ‘You shouldn’t have bothered in your condition.’
‘Not at all,’ Fiona replied, although she looked exhausted. There’d been no help forthcoming from her lazy-looking husband either as he sat staring over at them from onshore. The man hadn’t even bothered introducing himself and Aggie pitied the woman her obviously difficult life. The girls were adorable though.
‘We mixed it but Mum cooked it,’ one said. ‘It’s pink,’ she added, unnecessarily. It was the pinkest cake Aggie had ever seen.
‘Tricia dropped shell in it,’ the other one informed them. ‘Mum said it’s just a special extra ’gredient.’
‘Well, I look forward to being the one to find it,’ Aggie told them and they giggled.
With the refreshments delivered and handed around, Fiona and the girls made their way back. Aggie found a spot to lean as Frankie questioned Dr Pratt as to what they should do next.
‘I can’t see much point in moving her,’ he told her between mouthfuls. ‘She’s still in a very weakened state and any exertion would be ill-advised, particularly with that smoke in the air,’ he added with a nod at the distant fire.
‘But we can’t just leave her here,’ Aggie said immediately. ‘I mean, surely you need your boat for work.’ Aggie looked to Riley Logan. The man and his sister had been beyond generous and to keep him from being able to make a livelihood any longer seemed most unfair. Besides which, the cabin was hardly an ideal makeshift hospital ward and there was scant room for them all to stay there much longer.
‘I have another run-around I can use,’ Riley told her. ‘You don’t have to worry on my account.’
‘It’s also that, well, to be honest, it’s just too cramped,’ Frankie said. ‘Sorry, I mean we really appreciate your hospitality, Mr Logan, but … well, it is.’
Sisters of Freedom Page 15
