"I could enjoy all this," I said, "if ..."
I had spoken without thinking. Felicity went on: "You mean if it were in different circumstances."
I was silent.
"I'd like to explore," I went on. "I should like to find the Blue Mountains and explore them. Bathurst is on the other side. I heard that years ago they used to believe there were evil spirits in the mountains who would never allow people to cross them. And on the other side is Bathurst... and wonderful sheep country."
"Yes," said Felicity, "I should like to explore them too."
She was looking wistfully towards the horizon. I had meant to broach the subject of my departure to her when she was a little
i
calmer, but somehow I could not spoil this day... our first of freedom. And we had the whole week.
"Perhaps we shall one day," I said.
"You're planning to go though, aren't you?"
She had brought up the subject so we must talk of it.
"Well, I shall have to, shan't I? This is not my home."
"I suppose you'll go back to England and marry Raymond. I think you are the luckiest person in the world."
"You never know how things are going to turn out."
"Annalice, what can I do?"
"About what?"
"About everything. About my life. I can't endure it here. I can't endure... him. I didn't know married life was like this. The things that are done... I had no idea."
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked gently.
"I can't bring myself to speak of it. It's unspeakable... every night."
"Last night ..." I began.
"Last night?" she said quickly.
I said: "I know. I heard him come out of your room. He went to Mrs. Maken."
She nodded. "I was glad. I thanked God. Annalice, you have no idea."
"I think I have."
"I never thought..."
"It was a rough awakening."
"If I had known. I thought it was beautiful... romantic ... But I never wanted William."
"I know. You told me there was someone else you loved."
"He would never have done these things. Sometimes I think I shall go mad. I just can't endure it."
"Try to be calm. There's a week's respite. Let's think what we can do. We could go into the township tomorrow. The coach leaves for Sydney. We could get on it... get out of this place."
"He is my husband, Annalice. I'm married to him."
"That does not mean you have to endure the humiliation he subjects you to."
"But I am married to him."
"Well, what are you going to do? Stay here and endure it?"
"I'll have to. Sometimes I think I'll get used to it... and there is Mrs. Maken."
"You would accept that!"
"I have to."
"I wouldn't. I'd walk out. I wouldn't stay another night."
"He would never let me go."
"I would not say that he is besottedly in love."
"He despises me. I think he has from the first."
"Then why ... ?"
"He came to England to find a wife. He wanted one who was meek and had some money. I suppose I fitted into that."
"Money!" I cried.
"Well, my father left me well provided for. 1 never thought much about money before. William wants my money, he has plans for improving the property. All this land belongs to him. I am not sure of the boundaries. He wants to clear the scrub. He thinks he might have gold on the land. He wants to prospect for it. You see, I am very useful in a way ... although in others I am such an ignoramus."
"Oh, my poor Felicity. Now I am sure. You've got to get away. You've got to get help."
I was thankful that I had sent that letter to Raymond. It would be a start. I wished I had known this before. I could have mentioned it to him. I would write another letter—even more urgent than the first.
"Look. There is one thing to do. We'll ride into the township now and book our places on that coach."
"I couldn't go. Annalice. I know he would find me. It would be worse then. He would never forgive me for running away. He'd make sure that I didn't do it again. I'd be a prisoner."
"You're not quite as helpless as that. I can help you. We'll go together."
"It's all very well for you. He can't harm you. Oh, Annalice, you've no idea. When he comes into that bedroom I pray that something awful will happen. Fire perhaps ... anything to save me from him."
"My dear Felicity, this is terrible. You must be sensible. I'll get you away. You can stay with me and when I find what I want we can go home together."
"You make it all sound easy. Life is easy for you. You are so fortunate. Raymond loves you ..."
There was something about the manner in which she said his name which told me.
I said: "It is Raymond isn't it. whom you love?"
She was silent for a few moments, then she said: "It was more or less understood. Everyone said that he was just waiting until I grew up. We were always together. There was something special between us. It would all have turned out as they expected, but... he met you. He fell in love with you. You are so different from what I am. You are clever and I am rather stupid. But... Raymond seemed to like me the
way I was. He was always so tender, so protective. It seemed as though it was all working out and then ... he met you."
I stared straight ahead. I was seeing it all. It fitted in naturally. Poor, poor Felicity! And I was responsible for her unhappiness.
"Oh, Felicity," I said, "I'm sorry ... so very sorry."
I saw the tears glistening on her cheeks.
"It was not your fault," she said. "I suppose his feelings for me weren't strong enough. It was a sort of habit... and he only had to meet you to realize this. If only ... It would have been so different. And then it all went wrong and now there is... William."
"You married him because of Raymond and me," I said. "Oh, Felicity, how could you?"
"I thought I would get right away. If I had stayed there would have been times when I should have had to see you and Raymond together. I don't think I could have endured that."
"What a mess," I said. "An unholy mess!"
"You have been so good to me. I don't think I could have lived through all this without you. I should have taken a horse and ridden off and lost myself... or perhaps drowned myself in one of the creeks... anything to get away."
"I am more convinced than ever that we should leave here."
"He would find me."
"He wouldn't. The world is a big place. And when we get back to England we can get help. Raymond will help."
"I can't face Raymond."
"What nonsense! He is your friend. He cares a great deal about you."
"He loves you."
"He loves you, too. There is a great deal for you at home. You have suffered a terrible experience, but it is not the end. You're young. You've got the whole of your life before you."
"Annalice, stay with me. I couldn't go on without you."
"Look here. Let us be calm. We have a week to plan. We should not delay. Let us go to the inn and book our places on the first available coach. We'll get to Sydney. We'll go to Cariba on the next ship. Milton Harrington would help us, I am sure. He would know what we should do."
"He is another who is in love with you."
"You talk too lightly of love, Felicity. Milton Harrington is in love with himself—and I imagine it is an abiding passion which would not let anyone else in."
"I think he is in love with you."
"He has been helpful. He wants to help. He would know how best
to deal with your case. One thing I know is that if it is horrible for you, you don't have to endure it."
"It's a comfort talking to you."
"It would be more comforting to take some action. Let's go to the inn.
"Not today. Please, Annalice, leave it for today. Perhaps tomorrow ..."
"I think we should book soon. We might not
be able to leave on the first coach. After all they only take nine passengers. What if they were fully booked?"
"I can't decide. Annalice ... please give me until tomorrow."
"Till tomorrow then. Come on. Let's ride. We have a week. Let's enjoy our freedom."
I might have known that she would continue to hesitate. She was always pleading for time. There was no doubt that she was terrified of her husband; her resigned acceptance of his bestiality amazed me. I pictured myself in her circumstances. I would not have endured it for another day. But then I should never have married him in the first place, for I had been aware of his gross sensuality from the moment I met him. I had no doubt that in England he had been on his best behaviour. He had probably been born and bred in a similar environment to that of Felicity and would know what was expected of him. But he would never have deceived me, I was sure.
His absence had lulled Felicity into a sense of security. She was sleeping well at night and that made a great difference. She no longer lay trembling, waiting for his arrival. But she seemed numbed and unable to act.
I realized that he would not easily relinquish her. He had brought her out here for a purpose—to bear sons and provide the means for developing his land; and he was determined that she should fulfil that purpose.
Perhaps in her mind was the thought that if she became pregnant he would desert her for a while. The housekeeper was waiting to supply his comforts, as he called it. Others too, probably. I had seen one or two women about the place.
It was an insupportable situation and Felicity was a fool to go on enduring it.
I talked to her constantly. Again and again I pointed out how simple it would be to go to Sydney, take the boat to Cariba, and ask the advice of Milton Harrington. He would know what was best to be done. If she wished we might put her on a ship to England. Then she would be perfectly safe. I was here to pursue my enquiries about my
brother and would stay. But I had nothing to fear from William Granville.
At one moment she might appear to listen. But always she came up with the excuse: "But he would find me."
And so the days began to pass. Three ... four... five ... and then I was certain that she would not agree to come. I would eagerly have gone myself but she implored me so earnestly to stay and in view of what she had told me about Raymond, I felt impelled to do so.
He returned late one afternoon. Mrs. Maken had cooked a leg of mutton and made many pies pending his return. The entire household changed. Menace had come back into it.
Many of the workers were at the house that evening. They sat outside eating and drinking.
I went to my room and sat there watching... waiting for him to come up.
It was past midnight when he did.
I heard him lumber up the stairs and burst into the bedroom with the balcony.
I could not sleep, thinking of Felicity who had not had the courage to escape when she had the chance.
What would become of her, I wondered.
I thought that one day she might really go out and lose herself or drown herself in a creek.
It could come to that. But she was more likely to fall into the role of acceptance, to bear child after child, to lose her prettiness, to become drab, worn out, without spirit, just accepting, taking for granted the cruel life which had been thrust upon her.
Another week went by. I had been in the house three weeks. It seemed incredible that I could have stayed so long. I wondered whether David Gutheridge had returned to Sydney. Whatever happened I would go soon. I would insist. 1 would tell Felicity that either she came with me or we must say goodbye.
One Sunday afternoon I heard a great commotion below. I looked out of my window and saw a group of men talking excitedly together.
William Granville came out to them. I heard snatches of the conversation. "Over at Pickering's ... Bushrangers... That's it... Only the women there. All the men out working ... Mrs. Pickering and her two daughters..."
"They're only girls ... Thirteen and fifteen, I reckon."
"The devils," said one man.
"They say there were five of them."
"Five and three women ... my God."
"Robbed the place... took every penny... and other things too. They don't know whether Mrs. Pickering will survive. Poor woman... seeing her daughters handled ... by that scum."
"Who are they? Anyone know?"
"Not a clue. Except that it's a gang they think are ranging the country. No woman's safe. That's about it."
I drew back.
What an awful story. I would tell Felicity that we must make plans to leave without delay.
Everyone was talking about the terrible affair over at Pickering's. William Granville rode into the township. When he came back he shouted to Felicity and me to come into the parlour.
The parlour was the big room near the kitchen where the men sat and played cards in the evening... when they did not use the kitchen.
On the table were several pistols.
He looked at me sardonically.
"How good a shot are you?"
"Me? I have never had a gun."
"Well, you have something to learn."
He put his hand on Felicity's shoulder. I noticed her suppress the desire to wince. So did he, I think, for he put his fingers inside the neck of her bodice as though to punish her. She stood impassive.
"And you, my love, how good are you with a gun?"
"I'm no good at all."
"Now it may surprise you, but I didn't think you would be!" He shouted: "Well, you're going to learn. You heard what's happened over at Pickering's. There are wicked men around. Bushrangers. They are on the look-out for what they can steal and they have a fondness for people like you. You wouldn't like that... You wouldn't like it at all. So you are going to learn to shoot... and if any of them come near you you'll have to use your guns. No good being squeamish out here. They would come during the day. There are men around at night. They wouldn't come then. They come when they think there are only women in the place. You show your guns... and you shoot if necessary. You understand?"
"Yes," I said. "I understand."
He nodded and grinned at me.
"That's the ticket," he said. "Now what I'm going to do right away is give you some practice. I am going to teach you how to use a gun. I know my dear wife will never learn. She's more likely to be turning it on herself. That, my love, is the barrel of the gun ... that's where you shoot out from."
Felicity stood impassive.
"Now we are going to practise. Right now... without delay. Take one of these each. Now those are yours. They go with you everywhere. When you go out riding or when you're at home. You'll have to have belts to put them in. Never let your gun leave your side till they catch these fellows. And even then there could be more. You have to be ready. Now out. We're going to have a lesson right away."
A piece of metal had been attached to a bush not far from the house and there the shooting began.
Mrs. Maken was with us. She was quite a good shot. All the women were given guns.
I mastered the art fairly quickly, and although I might not be able to hit a bull's-eye at least my shots went into the metal.
William Granville said to me: "Not bad. Not bad at all. Hold it like this. More firmly." His fingers closed over mine. He knew I hated the contact and I was sure that made him enjoy it. There was a sadistic streak in him.
Felicity was aiming wide of the mark. He said sarcastically: "We shall all have to beware when my dear wife has a gun in her hands."
When the first lesson was over, at least I knew how to load and handle a gun.
"You can practise every day," said William Granville to me. "Then you should be quite a good shot."
"Thank you," I said coldly.
And we went into the house. Poor Felicity looked humiliated. He took a delight in making her feel so, and I was sure she was more afraid of him than of bushrangers.
I had become interested and enjoyed practi
sing. I slept with the gun beside my bed so that all I had to do was reach for it. When I went riding I wore it in my belt. It was amazing what a sense of security that gave.
I felt I was becoming quite adequate. I could draw the pistol from my belt and shoot with speed taking aim in a matter of seconds. Felicity was hopeless. She was afraid of the gun as she was of everything else here.
Two days after we had had our first lesson I was practising. The house was quiet. Felicity was sleeping, I thought. She was often exhausted—more due to William Granville, 1 believed, than the heat.
Someone had come up to stand beside me. 1 knew it was William Granville and went on shooting.
"Good," he said. "Goodo. You're quite a shot. But then, of course, you would be."
I put my pistol in my belt and turned away.
"You're a fine woman. Miss Annalice." he said. "You'd be more suited to the life out here."
"I do not agree." I replied.
"I thought you were settling in nicely."
"Indeed not. I shall be leaving soon."
"My dear wife implores you to stay, does she not?"
"She has been most hospitable."
"I hope I have been, too. It's my property, you know. I have no desire for you to leave. I like to have you around."
"Thank you," I said, and took a step towards the house.
He stood in front of me. barring my way.
"I wish I had seen you first," he said.
I raised my eyebrows pretending to misunderstand.
"Before my dear wife.'' he said. "I should have asked you."
"It would have been of no avail."
"Oh. I don't know. We've got a lot in common."
"Nothing at all. I should imagine."
"I like you. You've got spirit."
I took another step towards the house but he caught my arm. and brought his face close to mine. The overpowering smell of whisky sickened me.
I must have shown my feelings, for he squeezed my arm so hard that it was painful.
Road to Paradise Island Page 28
