Sisters of Freedom

by Mary-Anne O'Connor

  ‘Funny you should say that at this moment,’ he said. ‘That’s Bar Island, where they’re buried.’ He nodded over at the island as it rose before them and Ivy lifted her eyes towards its crest. It was like a monument itself.

  ‘It couldn’t be more fitting,’ she told him.

  They moved on in companionable silence after that, each watching the river world pass by and waving as they passed the occasional inhabitants.

  ‘How much further?’ she asked.

  ‘Not too far,’ he assured her.

  ‘What’s the name of it?’

  ‘Well, officially it’s around the corner from a place called Spencer near Singleton’s Mill. I thought we’d give it our own name though. The School Shop or something?’

  Ivy felt her guilt rise once more, knowing she should have told of her change in circumstances sooner, but surely she could steal just a little more time to enjoy this dream before it was gone.

  Not twenty minutes later they arrived at a picturesque spot, the timber frame of the structure now clearly visible. It was low tide and the water was the colour of tea where it rippled and ran across the shallows, leaving a wide stretch of wet sand to spread before it in welcome. Ivy remembered Riley mentioning that the river often flooded, however, and sure enough the building sat well back and high above the water level, safe and secure. She was surprised just how much progress he’d made in so short a time. Riley dropped anchor and they waded towards it.

  ‘Why, you’ve done so much,’ she exclaimed. ‘You must be close to putting in the walls.’

  ‘Not too far off,’ he told her, showing her around with a boyish enthusiasm. ‘This is the main shop where we’ll run a decent-sized counter, all the way along I think, and I’ve decided to build a storeroom as well as a living area out back. Might be time for me to stop sleeping among crates of supplies all the time,’ he said, turning around to send her a quick grin. ‘I haven’t started on the schoolroom yet but I was thinking right here, at the rear, with an entry at the side near where the children could play on this grassy bit and down on the beach,’ he said, pointing over to a wonderful area that would prove a dream playground should it ever come to pass. ‘We’ll need a jetty too, but that won’t be too hard to make. And well, that’s about it so far,’ he said, pausing to look over at her nervously. ‘What do you think?’

  Ivy knew the time had come for the truth but looking at that expression she almost couldn’t bear to utter the words, yet she’d been unfair to let him hope all day. She needed to come clean.

  ‘Riley, I need to tell you something and I’m afraid it’s going to affect things for you for a while.’ His face fell and he looked worried now as she sat on the grass and patted the ground nearby. ‘Maybe we should sit for you to hear this.’

  Riley sat, looking wary as she began to try to explain without letting him down too fast. ‘About this teaching idea, although I truly think you should still build a school here, it can’t … it can’t involve me.’

  Riley stared. ‘But it was your idea.’

  ‘I know it was,’ she said, feeling wretched, ‘but I hadn’t considered … that is … Riley, I can’t become a teacher because it’s against the law for married women to teach.’

  He looked at her for a long moment. ‘When are you planning to get married?’

  ‘Soon,’ she admitted, dropping her gaze away to avoid the pain in his eyes. ‘Patrick and I got engaged three days ago.’

  ‘Right,’ he said and she flinched at the hurt she heard there. ‘I see. It’s just … I mean, I just thought when you suggested this that you weren’t thinking about marriage and kids right now. What … whatever happened to all that “a life that matters” stuff you were talking about?’

  ‘I can still live a life that matters, I just can’t live it as a teacher … and I can’t live it here.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t suppose you can.’

  He stood then and paced about, moving a few bits of timber and pausing every now and then to think. She waited, knowing she’d done the wrong thing by delaying this news and regretting it. She hadn’t considered he’d take it so hard but in retrospect perhaps she should have. That there were feelings between them was obvious to him too, she was sure, but it could never be admitted. Especially not now.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me sooner?’ he asked after a while and she dragged guilty eyes to his.

  And that much of an admission lay silent between them. Because, for a host of reasons she’d never say, the stark truth was she simply hadn’t wanted to.

  Riley made his way to Fiona’s, not even thinking why he did it – his natural inclination was just to be around family. How different he’d felt journeying down the river this morning and how incredible it had been to share that ride to the building site with Ivy, letting her inside his heart once more, telling her things he’d never told a soul. That she’d let that closeness build to such heights only to slam him with the news that she would soon marry and be gone from his life, the wondrous hopeful dreaming of the past few days now dashed for good … it was difficult to fathom why such a kind girl could be so cruel. Yet he’d read the reason in her eyes: she’d wanted that one last day.

  As to why he could only really guess. A secret little attraction because he’d rescued her perhaps? Or maybe she was just toying with him for sport. Who knew? That she’d wanted to teach and open the school he well believed, but to think it through so poorly … against the law or not, once a woman married very few he knew ever went to work. Spinsters like Margie down at the inn certainly, but motherhood tied most women to the home and even Riley had known a proposal was on the cards from Patrick, months ago. Riley had just been hoping things had cooled between them and that he stood a chance. He’d been hoping a lot of things, fool that he was.

  The trip back to the bay to get her home had been a very different one and they’d barely spoken but she had said a few words that gave him pause before he left her on the shores of Bobbin Head and said goodbye for the last time.

  ‘I know you are probably going to rethink things now but I do want to ask … well, not that I have any right to ask you for anything but, please, Riley,’ she beseeched him, ‘still get Fiona involved with the store. I worry about her being so isolated and lonely and it would do her so much good to have regular company.’

  Her beautiful face had looked up at his, filled with that compassion that had tugged at his heart ever since that moment in the cave, and he’d nodded, hating that she affected him so but moved by her concern too.

  ‘Goodbye, Ivy,’ he’d said and turned to leave her, never looking back despite the sorrow in her words as they followed him.

  ‘Goodbye, Riley. If I can ever repay you in any way, you know where I am.’

  He knew where she was all right, Riley reflected grimly now. In a rich man’s house getting ready to marry another wealthy gentleman, as a lady like her well should. Looking to spend the rest of her days the wife of a lawyer and the mother of his children, then just idle, he supposed, doing whatever mattered in such a world. Ill-suited to have even considered working with poor river children on the banks of the Hawkesbury with the likes of Riley.

  Well, he hoped the comforts of such a life kept her satisfied and fulfilled for years to come, Riley thought, moving from heartbroken to just plain angry now.

  He was approaching Fiona’s place and the girls came out and waved.

  ‘Mum’s sick,’ Tricia called as soon as he was within earshot.

  ‘Yeah, she can’t get up so we’re cooking tea,’ Annie said. ‘Want some eggs, Uncle Riley?’

  He wondered if those two ever got tired of eating eggs, especially considering how often they let cracked shells fall into the pan, but he didn’t comment, concerned now for Fiona.

  Riley dropped anchor and strode to shore, picking up the twins for a quick hug before lowering them to the ground to let them run off to the coop.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, peeking through the door.

  ‘
Riley,’ Fiona said from where she lay with little Ivy. The baby was fast asleep and Riley regretted that he couldn’t have a cuddle and let some of this anger over her namesake dissipate but Fiona looked pale and he went to investigate.

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘I’m just a bit exhausted from the baby is all,’ Fiona said, ‘and I tripped last night and fell over that damn box. The twins keep dragging it out,’ she said, gasping as she shifted her back, ‘and forget to put it back against the wall.’

  The box of gifts from Ivy had proven extremely popular with the girls and they found it hard to resist exploring the contents that still lay within it over and again, especially the toys.

  ‘I’ll have to make you some shelves,’ Riley said, checking her temperature, but it seemed normal. ‘Or we get George to haul his lazy arse home and do something around here for a change.’

  ‘Don’t … bother …’ she grunted.

  ‘Let me have a look,’ he began.

  ‘No,’ she said, eyes flying to his. ‘I … I don’t want to move the baby. Took me an age to get her to sleep.’ Little Ivy did look to be out like a light, her perfectly angelic face tiny against Fiona’s chest as she dozed. Riley relented, although his old fears over his sister and George niggled.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to put her in her cot for you?’ The baby’s cot was in fact just a wooden crate nearby but it had a soft new blanket, thanks to Ivy’s generosity.

  ‘No,’ Fiona said, ‘leave her here with me.’

  ‘What can I do for you then? What if I take the girls down to the inn for a feed and give you a break? Treat them to something other than eggs?’

  ‘They’ll probably still order them,’ she said with a slight smile, ‘but yes, that would so good of you, if you don’t mind. I could really use some peace and quiet.’

  ‘Will George be home tonight?’ Riley asked, even though it was always anyone’s guess.

  ‘He said he was staying out with … a few mates.’ Barney and his brother-in-law had ceased going fishing together these days. Even Barney’d had enough of late nights putting up with George’s worsening drinking, especially when he needed to start so early at the orchards. Riley wondered at the identity of these new friends of his brother-in-law, hoping George hadn’t started down an even darker road by hobnobbing with the likes of Donovan.

  ‘Will you be all right on your own? Let me fetch you some tea and biscuits or something.’

  ‘That would be lovely, Riley,’ she said, closing her eyes. That she’d agreed to that worried Riley even further. Fiona rarely accepted anyone waiting on her. He made the tea and added a few biscuits to a plate, settling them next to her before packing the excited twins on the boat. Then he went back in one last time to check on Fiona before they set off.

  ‘You’re sure you’ll be right by yourself, Fi? I can stay here if you prefer.’

  ‘No, no, go. A good night’s sleep would be heaven itself.’ She reached her hand out weakly and he held it for a moment, looking down at his sister and her tiny child with tenderness yet concern. The need to question her further was tempting but she looked so tired he couldn’t bring himself to badger her right now. Tomorrow he would though, most definitely. She shouldn’t be as worn down as this.

  Baby Ivy sighed in her sleep, a tiny contented sound and Riley smiled at them both instead.

  ‘She looks just like you,’ he said to Fiona, placing a kiss on his fingertips and touching them to each of their foreheads softy. ‘Sleep tight.’

  And so Riley left them alone in peace to head up to the inn to get the girls some dinner before docking the Hawkesbury Queen around a quiet bend and settling them in below deck. Then he did the only thing left to do of any comfort, sitting back to spend time with his closest companion the river and have a few stiff drinks of his own. To contemplate what life would look like on the morrow, now that all his plans had changed once more. Come what may, one thing was for sure: he’d be keeping Fiona’s part in Ivy’s plan alive, fulfilling the last favour she’d ever asked of him. The more he could get his sister and nieces away from George and over at the new store, the better, especially if George had begun running with Donovan and the rest. It was one thing to worry about one drunken husband, quite another that she be exposed to a whole brutal gang.

  Twenty-Eight

  ‘Riley! Riley! There he is …’

  ‘Thank God. Riley!’

  Riley awoke to the cries a little groggy. Not because he was hungover from the few drinks he’d had last night, but because of the poor sleep he’d endured, worrying about Fiona and brooding over Ivy as he dozed in the cabin chair. The twins were still fast asleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms in the bunk, and Riley yawned and stretched before going above deck to see who it was calling him. He blinked at Barney and Margie in surprise.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘We think you’d best go check on Fiona,’ Barney said, panting and twisting his hat in his hands as Margie came up behind him. Riley went instantly on alert.

  ‘Why? What’s happened?’

  ‘George turned up at the inn last night after you left, drunk with Donovan and those other fools,’ Margie told him, still out of breath. ‘I told Angus to get them to clear off, which they did, eventually, but …’

  ‘I saw ’em as I passed by for work this morning and somethin’ ain’t sittin’ right,’ Barney said. ‘They were heading away from Fiona’s and in a mighty bloody hurry and George was with ’em too.’

  Riley stared, registering what this could mean.

  ‘Why would George leave with them and not stay home after drinking all night?’ Margie said, clearly agitated.

  ‘I’ve been looking for you ever since,’ Barney explained, ‘then I saw Margie and she told me how drunk they were and that you were here—’ Riley suddenly leapt into action, throwing instructions over his shoulder.

  ‘Wake the girls and bring them on your boat, Barney, and Margie too if you can,’ he said. ‘Fiona wasn’t well as it was.’

  ‘What’s wrong with her?’ Margie said as Barney jumped on board the Hawksbury Queen.

  ‘She couldn’t get out of bed,’ Riley said, cranking the anchor chain. ‘Said she tripped over and she was just tired but …’

  Margie looked at him worriedly as Barney came up on deck, passing the girls down to her, still half asleep.

  ‘Uncle Riley?’ muttered one, but he was throwing fuel in the fire box and preparing to start the boat with alacrity now, cursing himself as a hundred kinds of fool for not staying with Fiona like every instinct had told him to do.

  ‘Follow me as soon as you can,’ he said as he moved off, wishing the half-hour journey away so he could get to Fiona’s side and find her safe. Please God, let her be safe.

  He glanced back at the others as they made their way towards Barney’s boat, the twins’ faces tired and confused as they clutched Margie’s hands. It wrenched at his heart and he drove the boat as hard and as fast as he could to get to their mother, trying not to imagine the worst. Trying to believe George would never let Fiona come to any serious harm and that he’d taken off in a hurry with Donovan and the others for any other reason. To get more whisky from one of their hidden caves. To get in a fight with some of the rough lads up at Windsor for sport. To be in a hurry simply because going fast was a lark.

  The trip seemed to take an eternity but finally Fiona’s shack came into view and Riley stopped the engine and dropped anchor as rapidly as possible before dragging his legs through the water in a rush to shore, staring at her door, dreading what lay closed behind it.

  He pushed it open to the sound of baby Ivy’s distressed cries from her makeshift cot and the terrifying sight of Fiona slumped on the bed at an odd angle, her blood staining the sheets in deep pools of crimson. So much. Too much.

  Her night rail was torn against her half-naked flesh that was mottled with horrifying bruises, and Riley rushed to her side and turned her over to look into her face, but she was
so pale it seemed barely any blood remained inside her. It crusted at her temple, in her hair, down her limp and bruised limbs, pooling between her legs. Her eyes tried to focus on him but one was blackened and so swollen she could barely open it. She managed to say his name, so faint it was little more than a breath.

  ‘Riley.’

  ‘Fiona,’ he said, tears beginning to choke him. ‘Oh my poor girl.’ He looked at her broken form helplessly and could do no more than draw the sheet to cover her with one hand as he gently pushed back her bloodied hair with the other.

  ‘Baby,’ she whispered, and he reached over to pick up little Ivy. Her cries receded as he soothed her with one arm, holding Fiona’s limp hand with the other, unable to place her in her mother’s arms. She could longer seem to hold her.

  ‘Take … my girls …’ she said, looking from the baby to his face.

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘please, don’t say it …’

  ‘Take my girls … to Ivy. They deserve … a better … life … than this.’

  ‘No, you have to stay,’ he begged, the tears running down his cheeks. ‘We all need you. You can’t—’ He shook his head. ‘You can’t not be in this world. You can’t.’

  ‘I want … you to go … to her too.’ She was fading with each word but still fighting to say them. ‘I know … you love … her.’

  ‘Fi,’ he sobbed, as her breathing drew slower and fainter, her gaze resting on her baby.

  ‘Love … them … Riley …’

  She stilled, his name her last word as her eyes stared sightlessly and he blinked through his tears in disbelief.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘No.’

  He ignored the sound of the door opening behind him as he looked at the impossible sight of his sister’s now lifeless form.

  ‘Dear God.’ Margie’s voice carried. ‘Keep them outside, Barney.’

  She came forward and placed one hand one Riley’s shoulder as he dissolved in racking sobs, hugging the baby close. ‘She’s …’