Sarah reads and re-reads the letter. A frown furrows her forehead.
“Och, what is it me dear? What does Robert say?”
“Robert has gone home to fetch me mama out to New Zealand.”
“Well, that’s good. Ye donnae have to be worrying about that.”
“I know, but ...”
“But what?”
“They’ll be living in Ashburton. Me mama is coming all the way to the South Island and I still willnae get to see her.”
“I donnae think we should risk travelling in ye condition.”
“Aye,” Sarah sullenly replies, knowing Murdo to be right but still wanting to see her mama.
Murdo is getting frustrated. Maybe Sarah is just in one of her moods, the pregnancy hormones playing havoc again. He tries to be patient; she’s been a little fragile of late.
“Och, Sarah, it’s obviously not alright. What would ye like to do?”
“I was thinking, maybe, just maybe she could come and live with us or we could go and live in Ashburton.”
“Mmm,” replied Murdo, rubbing his chin in contemplation.
“It would be a real comfort to me to have her around for this pregnancy, especially after the last one.”
“Well, we’ll not worry about it now. If he’s only just gone, it’ll be December before they are in New Zealand. We can consult with Dr Howard as to what’s best.”
.....
The next few months pass quickly. If time permits at the end of the working day Murdo sets about clearing the section at the rear of the house. He wants to establish a vegetable garden but has the prickly chore of removing the bracken, gorse and blackberry bushes which seem to be the only plants that grow prolifically on the west coast.
Murdo remembers the potatoes dug fresh from the garden for Christmas dinner at the Burts. He orders some seed potatoes through the Co-operative store. Lexie pops one little sprouting potato in each hole that Murdo digs and says, “good night, sleep tight,” to them as Murdo covers them with soil to create two parallel mounds of earth. There is also room for a small row of carrots and just in case, a row of never-fail radishes.
Lexie likes to help her father and has the watering can at her side when she hears Murdo come home each night. Hand in hand they venture out the back door to see if there are any more shoots appearing. This gives time for Sarah to prepare the evening meal in peace or maybe rest her weary legs and swollen ankles for five minutes.
.....
There are fresh potatoes for Christmas. It is a meagre crop but digging up three plants produces sufficient small potatoes for the three of them. After the morning church service, the Campbells enjoy a quiet Christmas dinner of potatoes, carrots and several slices of ham. After the meal, Sarah relaxes in a chair while Murdo retrieves the gifts he has bought for her and Lexie. Wide-eyed with anticipation, Lexie tears the paper open to discover a pretty doll with blue eyes painted on a porcelain face. The doll has shiny brown hair plaited into two ponytails tied with blue ribbon. Lacy bloomers peak out from under a maroon velvet dress and dainty slippers in matching velvet are tied onto her cloth feet with ribbons. Lexie cradles the doll in her arms and sings “Rock a Bye Baby.”
Sarah feels the baby within her stir. She treasures the small flutters that assure her that soon Lexie will have a little brother or sister. Murdo interrupts her reverie to give her a small gift-wrapped box tied with a red ribbon. Inside is a dark blue case, hinged at one end, which she notes from the embossed name has come from the jewelers in Greymouth. She smiles at Murdo and carefully lifts the lid. A heart carved and polished from greenstone, is hung on a delicate gold chain. Sarah is speechless; she lifts the pendant from its box and cradles the heart in her palm. On the face of the heart is her name in embossed gold letters.
“Oh Murdo. It is so beautiful. Thank ye. Thank ye so much. However could ye afford this?”
“A beautiful gift for me beautiful wife. Ne’er ye mind about the cost.”
.....
In the summer, Sarah and Lexie often walk to the post office to collect any mail and stop into the store to have lunch with Murdo. Lexie especially enjoys going to the store if Mr Angel is there because he always allows her to select a treat from the lolly jars. Today, the mail includes a letter from Robert. He and Sarah’s mother, also called Sarah, arrived safely in Christchurch just before Christmas. Her mother is too tired after her journey to New Zealand to visit Runanga just yet.
Lexie skips along ahead on the walk back up the hill to home. Sarah is deep in thought trying to figure out how to get to see her mother. She has to stop to rest a number of times. Her heart seems to be pounding; the thumping in her ears is deafening and she sits on a stump at the side of the road to rest. Lexie turns just in time to see her mother slide from the stump to the ground.
“Mama! Mama!” she cries as she runs back to Sarah. “What wrong?”
Sarah’s eyes flutter open just as a woman, from the house across the road, comes to her side.
“Stay with your mother, child,” she commands Lexie, “I’ll fetch the doctor.”
Lexie is scared but does as she is told. She squats down beside Sarah and puts her thumb in her mouth.
Dr Howard is soon at hand. Murdo has been told and arrives in time to carry Sarah the rest of the way home and place her gently on their bed. In Dr Howard’s opinion Sarah is merely suffering in the heat of a hot summer and in her pregnant state should rest in bed awhile.
Travel is definitely out of the question so mother and daughter must content themselves with regular letters from opposite sides of the South Island, rather than from opposite sides of the world.
.....
Lack of water becomes an issue in February. Murdo and Lexie must stop watering the vegetable garden as the water tank’s level drops to under one third. The new crop of cabbages, silver beet and cauliflowers must fend for themselves. Sarah never thought she would, but she prays for a rainy day. The heat is contained by the surrounding high hills and she finds it stifling. There are only two months to go in her pregnancy but she cannot wait for them to pass.
.....
Sarah wakes with a start. She is instantly tense, sensing something is wrong. She feels her stomach; no it is not the baby. She looks to Murdo’s side of the bed. He is not there. That is all right; she remembers it is a work-day and he has gone early to the bakery just as he always does. She smells smoke and quickly gets out of bed. Without donning her robe she checks Lexie in the other bedroom. She is still sound asleep. She checks the fire; it is nearly out and not giving off any smoke. Sarah begins to think it is all a dream and she imagined the smoke. Walking back down the passage, she glances out the front door and sees black clouds of smoke billowing into the sky and hot orange flames leaping from the roof of a building further down the road. Fires are not unusual in Runanga, with many a mining family having lost all of their possessions when sparks from open fires ignite dry timber. But what alarms Sarah this time is the location of the building – it appears to be the Co-operative Store. She faints.
When Sarah comes around, Murdo, eyebrows singed and face blackened with soot, and Lexie, with her thumb back in her mouth, are staring down at her. Murdo lifts Sarah and places her back on the bed.
“Och, are ye all right me dear?” he anxiously asks.
“Aye, but ye?”
“Aye, I be fine,” Murdo shakes his head, “but I cannae do any baking for a wee while, the store is gone, burnt to the ground.”
With no water supplies, attempting to douse the flames is a futile battle. No one is injured but none of the inventory or plant and equipment is retrievable. The Co-operative Committee and Mr Angel are already talking insurance claims, worried that they haven’t updated the policy for the expansion and the cover will be inadequate to rebuild. The new gymnasium across the road is offered as temporary premises.
Over the next week, under instructions from the doctor, Sarah remains in bed. Lexie is cared for by a neighbour and Murdo attends numerous meeting
s held by the Co-operative to raise funds from its members for the rebuild. Commitments are made and the rebuilding soon begins. Murdo must investigate and make recommendations for the outfitting of the new bakery.
Dr Howard decides it is in the best interests of Sarah and the unborn child that Sarah is taken to Greymouth hospital for the birth. Murdo must go into Greymouth to supervise the unloading of new equipment and so is able to escort her. The neighbour kindly offers to have Lexie stay but judging by the uncertainty in her eyes and thumb in her mouth she is not at all happy.
On 29th April 1912, a healthy baby girl is born at Greymouth hospital. In Murdo’s absence, Sarah names the baby Florence Rewa Campbell after her own sister Florence and the native rewarewa tree. She hopes that the baby will have the opportunity to grow tall and slender like the trees she remembers from the Hutt.
Sarah remains in hospital for the next week to recover. She is a bevy of mixed emotions – joy that her baby has been born healthy, impatient that Murdo and Lexie are yet to see the new addition to their family, sadly reminded that her last pregnancy never went full term.
Murdo, Sarah & Lexie
Lexie
Chapter Thirteen
South Island 1913-1914
“Lexie!” Sarah growls. “Will ye hold ye sister’s hand and stand still or we will miss the train.”
Standing on the platform waiting for the train to take them to Greymouth, Sarah should be excited because they are finally going to Ashburton to spend Christmas with her brother Robert and her mother; instead she feels hot, grumpy and tired. She knows she expects a lot of Lexie who at only five years of age is still learning to take care of herself, let alone her twenty-month-old sister Florence. But Sarah will not let another pregnancy prevent her from seeing her mother. She is determined to travel even though she is again cumbersomely big with child.
Lexie looks askance at her mother. She shouldn’t be getting growled at, she’s not the one running all around. Lexie thinks her mother is often in a bad mood lately but she is trying to be a good girl for Christmas, so she grabs Florence’s hand and holds it tight. Lexie is excited about their first holiday, meeting someone called Grandma and having another Christmas. She tries to tell Florence but Florence is too little to understand; she was just a baby last Christmas and has only ever been on a train when she came home from hospital.
Beyond the train, on the other side of the tracks, the pohutukawa trees are in full flower; their crimson blooms are tightly bunched in a proud display. The Campbells have learned from the local Maori that this is a sign of a long hot summer. Murdo wipes his brow with his handkerchief as he returns to the platform after doing a final check that his replacement baker will have everything under control and operating smoothly for the two weeks they are to be away. It is the first time he has left the bakery since arriving in Runanga over two years ago. Christmas time is always busy but he has relented to Sarah’s pleading to visit with her family and asked Mr Angel for some leave. Sarah’s mother has indicated she is considering returning home so it is now or never for a visit.
They are soon settled in their seats with their bags safely stowed away for the short trip down the line into Greymouth. Sarah remembers her first trip up this line; Lexie was just a little older than Florence is now – how quickly time passes. Then, it was the middle of winter, and the grey rainy day reflected Sarah’s emotions. But life in Runanga has been better than she expected.
A journey from the west coast to the east coast is possible in a day but for Sarah’s sake they will catch the train to Otira, stay the night in the Terminus Hotel, make the coach trip to Cass the following day, and then continue by train to Christchurch and finally south to Ashburton.
After changing trains at Greymouth, they settle into a passenger carriage that is far more comfortable than they are used to. Sarah soon relaxes into the cushioned backrest and the rhythm of the train rocks her off to sleep. Lexie and Florence stand with their noses pressed flat against the window pane, transfixed by all the new sights and sounds they can see in the world beyond. Murdo sits quietly observing them, thinking how different life is for his little girls compared to his own childhood in the Highlands of Scotland.
.....
The Terminus Hotel is a grand two-storey wooden building nestled beneath the bush-covered ranges that the coach will traverse tomorrow. The summit of the ranges is some 3,300 feet above sea level and at the steepest part of the moraine the road of loose rock zigzags back and forth three times. Murdo has heard many a tale of passengers losing their breakfast on the coach, so suggests a light supper before they retire early for a good night’s rest.
Otira is home to railway workers and tunnellers. A railway tunnel through the ranges is currently under construction, has been for a number of years, and given the slow progress thus far, will be for a long time yet. The tunnellers are hard men who live in small wooden huts, work in shifts twenty four hours per day, six days a week in wet, noisy and dangerous conditions. Relief at the end of a shift usually comes by way of a drink. Tonight, Murdo and Sarah discover, is no exception. Lexie and Florence, exhausted by the day’s excitement are sound asleep tucked up together in a small crib at the foot of their parents’ bed. But their second-floor hotel room is directly above the main bar. The highly-polished wooden floorboards look grand but do nothing to muffle the workers’ noisy banter resonating from below. Shouting and laughter is soon replaced with singing when one of the patrons takes up position at the piano. It is a lovely Irish tune which at any other time Sarah would have joyously joined in for the chorus, but not tonight.
.....
The morning’s coach is fully laden with ten passengers including the Campbells. Murdo helps Sarah get comfortable on a bench seat inside the coach; Lexie and Florence are either side of her so they can see out the open sides of the coach. Murdo opts to sit up front with the driver who is making last-minute checks of the horses’ harnesses. An elderly couple occupy the other bench seat while the other four passengers have outside seats front and rear. Bags are carefully stacked so as to balance the load and securely tied on to ensure nothing is lost over the rough terrain.
“Right you are then, all ready?” asks the driver.
Sarah is not quite sure if she will ever be ready.
“Look Mama! Look at the horses!” Lexie claps her hands in excitement, leaning out the side of the coach to get a better view of the four horses harnessed to the front of the coach.
“Lexie sit down!” Sarah warns. “Ye will fall out if ye’re not careful.”
The horses jolt into action and Lexie is thrown back against the seat. The fright she gets is enough of a lesson to ensure she remains sitting for the remainder of the journey. On the other side of Sarah, Florence sits petrified. Her little legs cannot reach the floor of the coach so she has no way to brace herself against the rocking. The knuckles of her chubby fingers are white as she clings tightly to her mother’s skirt and the cloth of the seat.
The lack of recent rain means the first river crossing is but a trickle of water and the horses barely make a splash. They settle into a steady rhythm as the ascent begins; the metal road crunches under the horses’ hooves and the coach rocks steadily on its strengthened steel springs. The pace slows when the moraine is reached. The horses are used to the trek; they carefully dig their hooves into the loose rough stones and cautiously manoeuvre the coach at each zigzag. From his seat next to the driver, Murdo can see the steep ravines at the side of the road where one could easily plummet to an unsavoury end, and he appreciates the driver’s expertise, which soon sees them safely at the summit. Here they take a short break to stretch their legs.
“Go and pick some flowers,” Murdo suggests to the girls as he lifts them down from the coach.
Next to the signpost that designates the boundaries of Canterbury and Westland, alpine lilies and celmesias grow wildly on the side of the road. The view from the summit is magnificent, as far as the eye can see, or clouds will permit, in all direct
ions. The last of the winter snows are but a sprinkling of white at the tops of the ranges, which wind their way down the middle of the island. The song of the tui is silent at this altitude and there are no fantails to flutter about. It is too cold for wildlife.
The driver gives the horses a small drink and a handful of oats to give them some energy for the descent. No longer do they need strength to haul the carriage up a steep slope but caution to keep it from careening down the other side.
“All aboard folks!” requests the driver. He has a timetable to adhere to and a return trip to be made today.
“For you Mama,” says Lexie as she passes a small bunch of flowers to Sarah.
“Thank ye Lexie.” Sarah musters enough energy to smile.
Lexie does not notice the grey hollows under Sarah’s eyes. The elderly couple do and judge they have the right to comment that they do not think it is appropriate for Sarah to be travelling in her condition. Sarah straightens her back and braces her feet on the floor of the coach as its descent threatens to slew her from her seat. She is a grown woman and does not want to be chastised like a child so doggedly tries to hide her discomfort.
At Peg Leg Creek they all have to lighten the coach’s load and dismount to walk a hundred yards up the stream to a small footbridge, which must be crossed in single file. Murdo lifts Florence onto his shoulders. She hangs on tight to his hair and giggles at the thrill of being up so high. Lexie can reach the handrail on one side and opts to walk over the foot-wide wooden plank like the other big people.
From here the remaining trip is easy, at least comparatively so. Two more creeks are crossed and the coach arrives at its destination. Murdo lifts the girls down and then helps Sarah, whom he notes is holding her belly.
“Are ye alright me dear? Is it the baby?”
“Aye, it’s objecting to the rough ride.” Mild contractions grip Sarah’s belly but she believes it is just a warning and she is not going into labour.
A Better Place Page 11
