by Darry Fraser
CeeCee swung the pot again. It pounded the man’s chest from under his ribs. Her hands and arms shuddered against the force of it.
He toppled, fell on his backside and scrambled back like a crab until he found enough purchase to get up and stumble away.
Aware that Linley still screamed, CeeCee dropped the pot and reeled around to grip her niece’s shoulders. Still labouring for breath, she checked every detail of Linley and the baby. She tried to speak.
‘Ha … he …’
‘He’s gone. He’s gone.’ Linley sobbed into the baby’s outraged face and shushed and shushed his shrieking. ‘We’re all right. We’re all right.’
CeeCee sagged against them both, pressing them back to the safety of the picket fence behind. Crying, sobbing, heaving for air and waiting for her airways to clear, she fell against the fence and retched.
‘Aunty. CeeCee …’
‘I’m all right.’ She sucked in air. ‘Inside. Quickly.’ She huffed small breaths in rapid succession as she poked and prodded Linley inside the yard and up the step to the front door. She only touched it and it swung open. She cried aloud, hoarse, throaty and anguished.
The wreckage inside was all too obvious.
The women crept into the hallway and then CeeCee slammed the front door shut. She bent, whispered for Linley to find matches and a lamp, hoisted herself up on the parlour’s doorway and held a hand to her cheek.
Linley ran past her, hugging the crying baby and hush-hushing him as she went. She crossed straight to the mantelpiece, crunching over broken crystal and furniture. She jiggled Toby arm to arm as she searched along the timber shelf for the matchbook.
She rushed it back to CeeCee who clung to the doorway, holding her middle. ‘Find a lamp, or a wick. Something …’
Linley stood for a moment, flustered.
CeeCee waved her off. ‘Don’t trust me to hold Toby, I’ll concentrate on holding myself, just find something to light.’
‘Where?’
CeeCee’s lungs expanded and a cool breath of air found its way easily inside. Relief waved across her abdomen. ‘My desk. The drawer.’ She tried to straighten.
Linley rushed to the desk, the baby bouncing in her arms. He, too, had quietened, but a gurgle brought a splash of his dinner up over Linley’s shoulder.
Tugging at the drawer, she thrust her hand inside. She raced back to CeeCee, candles in her grip. She put the baby on the floor in a clean space between her feet and thrust the candles at CeeCee. She scratched a match and lit them.
‘Find the cot. Hope the bastard didn’t wreck that.’
Linley scooped up Toby, took a candle from CeeCee and crunched her way back into the parlour. The cot stood in the corner completely free of the carnage around it.
‘Check it for glass or broken china,’ CeeCee ordered from the door.
Linley swiped her hand quickly, lightly over its covers. ‘It’s clean, not been touched at all.’ She lowered the baby and tucked him in, cooed some nonsense and rocked the cradle. ‘It’s all right, it’s all right.’
It was far from all right. CeeCee felt her knees go, and she slipped a little in the doorway. Her face pounded where the man’s forearm had slammed her, her stomach pained with a bruise waiting to come out and her arms ached from the weight of her pot throwing.
The pot.
‘Linley, go back outside and get the pot.’
‘What?’
‘Go.’
‘But you’re—’
‘Get the pot. It’s a weapon.’ She turned to face the front door, dipping her head in its direction.
Linley stepped around her aunt, laid her hand briefly, softly on her shoulder and rushed to the front door. She pulled it open ready to run through.
A large form loomed in the doorway, a hand raised at the level of her head.
Linley screamed. The baby’s enraged squeal emitted from the parlour.
CeeCee turned too quickly to stop the gasp of agony as she focused on who stood in the doorway.
She finally let go and slid to the floor.
Eleven
CeeCee rested in one of the chairs in the kitchen room. She tucked in her chin, made eye contact, and lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘You will promise to remain calm while you listen.’
James Anderson gave a curt nod, but his pinched nostrils were a giveaway. ‘I will. But I will get him.’
‘I know. Just. Please. For now, don’t do anything.’ CeeCee held his brown-eyed stare a moment. His fiery-red hair had darkened a little … perhaps he wasn’t spending so much time outside any more. A few threads of silver glittered above his ears and wove the length of it down to his collar.
Why don’t I know if he’s spending less time outside? When did the silver in his hair arrive?
Startled, a flutter skipped through her. She should know. She would know…
Hot water whistled in the kettle on the old wood-burning iron stove. A bowl of cool water and a damp cloth sat just beyond her hands, resting on the tabletop.
Linley leaned over the cot, now moved into the kitchen. She stared at the sleeping baby. ‘He’s finally nodded off, poor little man.’
CeeCee had a hand against her face. ‘We’d better get some of that tinned milk tomorrow, Lin.’
Linley glanced between her aunt and James. ‘Yes. I’ll go in the morning and wait for the store to open.’
CeeCee opened her mouth to protest.
James held up his hand. ‘I doubt the low bugger will try anything in broad daylight. And you’ll need some travelling supplies, the sooner the better.’
He sounded terse, but CeeCee knew he was holding his temper.
She glanced at her niece. ‘Linley, you know James has a business in Melbourne and also in Echuca. He—’
‘Cecilia.’ James lifted his eyebrows.
She took up the cloth, dipped it in the cool water, squeezed out the excess and placed it on her burning cheek. Her eye was watery and she knew the swelling would come out. ‘We’ve still so much to tell you, Linley, but no time now. Because of this attack, we will need to take you to one of those places. Melbourne or Echuca.’
Linley frowned. ‘Yes. But we don’t know for sure that—’
‘You know as well as I do. It was Gareth Wilkin.’
‘It was so dark, Aunty.’
‘Come now, the man’s stink is all a person needs to identify him.’
James drummed his fingers on the table. ‘You need some medical care, CeeCee.’
‘Nothing’s broken.’
‘At least draught for pain,’ he said between clenched teeth.
‘A good toddy will do.’ CeeCee let out a long breath, dipped the cloth again and rinsed, replacing it against her cheek. ‘You will have to find lodgings tonight.’ She looked at James and felt the apology creep across her features.
His mouth set. ‘My lodgings will be here tonight, with you both. As usual.’ James looked at her, a scowl beginning. ‘It’s either the slightest risk of gossip, against keeping you all safe in this house.’
Linley looked away, set to rocking the cradle madly until she took a deep breath and stopped herself. ‘I know you’ve always stayed before, many times. I welcome it.’ Her gaze settled on the floor. ‘It doesn’t matter to me about any gossip.’
CeeCee closed her eyes at that, and a moment passed. ‘Wilkin will not return. He’s a coward.’ She pressed the cloth to her throbbing cheek.
‘Aye, a coward who had a woman wallop him.’ James’ brows furrowed, the drumming fingers louder. ‘He waited till you went out then he sacked the place. What was he looking for?’
CeeCee lifted a shoulder. ‘He is the widower of this baby’s mother. Perhaps he came for the baby, or to find papers and the like.’
James stopped the drumming. ‘But he’s not the father of the baby, is he?’
‘No.’ Linley stepped forward, then embarrassed, stepped back to the cot. She gave it a couple of small swings.
CeeCee flexed her jaw then
decided it wasn’t a good idea. ‘No. He married Mary, the baby’s mother, to save her reputation. She was with child to another. But he had the promise of an inheritance to sweeten the arrangement.’
James shook his head. ‘And something went wrong.’
Linley’s voice rose. ‘We know that he beat her. He kicked her. He did unspeakable things—’
‘Linley.’ CeeCee reached out a hand to her niece. ‘Don’t get upset.’ She looked at James. ‘Mary used the promise of an inheritance from an ailing aunt of hers to attract the man to marriage—’
‘Horrible, despicable, smelly, poxy little toad.’ Linley squared her shoulders.
‘—and he did marry her. We understand by Mary’s letters to the solicitor we engaged for her, that he did indeed beat her. So badly in fact I believe that the effort of birth killed her. She died after the baby was born.’
James shook his head again. ‘But before it was born she’d already asked for Linley to take the baby.’
CeeCee nodded, holding her face against an ache. ‘She is the one I wrote you about. She asked for Linley’s guardianship of her baby. Clearly, we believed Mary knew what might well befall her.’
She hadn’t told him everything else before; it was too much to commit to a letter and too prevalent an occurrence for a number of women to be anything but commonplace.
James scratched his head. ‘And we engaged the solicitor for her.’
‘Mary wanted a will drawn up. And that’s why she came to me.’ CeeCee inhaled carefully. ‘She said she knew I helped many unhappy women. I don’t know how she knew. Perhaps our work is not unnoticed, James, after all. So, six months and more with child, her eyes blackened, one closed, her only dress crudely sewn back together for modesty …’ CeeCee glanced at Linley, who stood woodenly over the baby’s cradle. ‘I paid Mr Campbell to help. He is also following through with the succession for Toby from the aunt’s estate. We should learn of its extent shortly.’
James looked at her. ‘So the old lady has died. But the widower …’
‘Mary’s will expressly denies him the inheritance. She states the funds are to go to the child’s guardian. She named Linley as that guardian. After his first beating of her she drafted a legal will.’ CeeCee almost felt Linley’s wince.
‘The court might view the husband as the rightful—’
‘The new laws, James. Mary’s property before she married is hers to administer. He got away with beating her, but he can’t get away with property. Not any longer.’
James frowned. ‘I know the laws have changed, but I hope the court will not award him the inheritance. It did come to her after she married.’
‘I think it will stand because it was bequeathed to her before her marriage.’ She frowned, felt the pain shoot into her eye. ‘I don’t believe he’s entitled. And he doesn’t have access to the will.’ The cool cloth was no longer doing its job. She rinsed it again and pressed it back to her cheek.
James steepled his fingers, tapping them together. ‘I don’t know what to make of all that, and I was a lawyer in training.’
‘Ha. You mean, what a judge would make of that,’ CeeCee said.
Linley looked up sharply and CeeCee caught her glance. She smiled at her niece, hoping to allay any fears, though one side of her face couldn’t cope with it. Tears smarted. ‘We should make you an appointment with Mr Campbell, James, so you hear it directly from the solicitor. But that is not our issue at present.’
James shifted in his chair, leaned forward and laced his fingers. ‘Of course not.’ He tilted his head. ‘Which way to go, CeeCee? To Melbourne or to Echuca?’
She stretched her fingers to reach his hands. ‘Melbourne, I think. Anonymity would be better there.’
‘Echuca,’ Linley blurted. She looked at James. ‘If you have already bought a house there for us. I would … I—I have always wanted to be by the river. Melbourne is such a foul and smelly place by all accounts.’
A scorching flush rose in her niece’s cheeks. It was true enough, CeeCee knew. She shifted a glance to James.
‘We have a house available in Echuca, if you’d prefer.’ He’d spoken to Linley then looked at CeeCee.
‘I would.’ Linley’s chin lifted.
CeeCee let out a long sigh, and withdrew one hand to tug her earlobe. ‘Echuca it is.’
They decided to lock Linley and the baby inside the kitchen room by the fire. CeeCee leaned on James’ arm as they went back into the main house. They took a lamp, dodging the mess strewn about the hallway.
One of the bedrooms, Linley’s, had barely been touched, and CeeCee thought she could sleep in there. James sat her down on the bed and moved a lamp to the little bedside table. With his foot, he swept aside shards of glass on the floor. Bottles of this and that, which must have been on Linley’s dresser, had been broken.
He pulled a chair close to the bed. ‘I’ll pack you a bag of things to take, CeeCee.’
She shook her head. ‘I want nothing from here he might have put his filthy hands on. We’ll take immediate essentials, and our box of family treasures, and let that be that. If you telegraph me some funds from the account, I will purchase clothes once we arrive. Linley can do the shopping.’ She tugged in a sharp breath as she tried to lift her legs onto the bed.
James slipped his arm under her, swept aside the covers and tucked her under the bedclothes. ‘I can go for the doctor tonight—’
‘No. Please don’t, James. Please don’t leave for any reason.’
He frowned. ‘I’ll not leave your side, Cecilia Celeste.’ He picked up her hand and pressed its palm to his lips.
‘James.’
He looked at her, fine wrinkles at the corner of his eyes more pronounced than she had ever noticed them.
‘James, I know you go after these men.’
His stare never wavered.
She squeezed his fingers. ‘I don’t want to know what happens. But I want it to stop now.’
‘My love, I—’
‘If there is to be anything for us, with each other, going into the future, it must stop now.’
‘Cecilia, these men are the vilest of creatures. The law does not punish them. Someone has to.’
Was his a madness of sorts as well? It didn’t matter to her. What mattered to her was that this work didn’t kill him, or kill both of them.
‘I want it to stop so that you and I have a future. So this affliction that we know is in some men will no longer reach us.’ Fear had risen in her, and it was a new awareness. It had been a long time since she’d felt the tentacles of this particular evil.
‘I would do anything for you, CeeCee.’ He kissed her hand again, and the smile reached his eyes. ‘But stopping my work won’t stop it reaching us.’
‘I mean it, James. I could not bear to be without you. If you were ever—’
‘I promise you, CeeCee. I promise. After this one. Now, no more of that talk.’
She sighed. It was enough that she had said it. There was no reason to press her point, she knew it. She tried to smile, though when her faced creased it felt misshapen.
His lips on her hand sent a warm glow through her. ‘So, why did you come up from Melbourne? This wasn’t a scheduled visit.’
He covered her hands in his. ‘Your last letter sounded forlorn. Out of hope. Most unusual. I needed to see you were all right.’
Her last letter. It had been a sad state. ‘I’m sorry. I had intended to write—’ She winced as she moved.
‘CeeCee. I want nothing more than to be where you are.’ He lowered his head again to her hands. ‘And I am so very glad I came. It terrifies me that you are at the mercy of people like him.’
She scoffed, but knew she hadn’t sounded convincing. ‘I’m not. We’re not.’ She tried to sit up. ‘This is an isolated case, far from—’
‘It’s not.’ James shook his head. ‘You are too knowledgeable about this sort of violence. This is the very thing we have striven to prevent, or to stem, for as long as we�
�ve known each other. This is exactly your sister’s life all over again.’
CeeCee closed her eyes and eased back to the pillows. ‘Would you prop me up with cushions?’
He slipped extras from his chair and plumped them behind her back. Then he sat beside her on the narrow bed, and carefully cradled her.
‘Thank you.’ She sank against him. ‘My sister. I had hoped it would never follow Linley. Have I brought this on her?’ Her right eye was closing rapidly, and it felt squashy when she blinked. ‘By helping Mary, did I open the door for this to stain my niece? The very thing …’
‘The very thing we do is what you did for Mary. But it has led this bastard and his violence to your door. We’ve been careful in the past to ensure that his type never get close.’ James kissed her forehead.
CeeCee let out a long, careful breath. ‘You mustn’t leave the house. Promise me you won’t leave the house if I go to sleep.’
‘I will not leave you alone tonight.’ He edged a little off the bed. ‘But I cannot sleep in this cot you have here. I will bring in the other bed and sleep beside you.’ He stood up.
CeeCee looked at him, saw love in his dark eyes. She could look beyond that and see the burning, barely contained wrath that drove the darker side of his nature.
‘I wish we had your big bed.’ She hoped to soothe the turbulence she saw in his eyes. ‘I wish I had the energy …’
‘My love.’ He bent and kissed her forehead again. ‘For tonight, it’s more than enough that you are safe.’
CeeCee watched him leave. Heard him crunching over shattered glass, heard him drag ruined furniture out of his way, listened as he hefted the mattress and saw him haul it through her door.
He laid it by her bed, its bedcovers still intact. He dropped to his knees on it, rested his elbows on her bed, his chin in his hands. ‘This unfortunate incident has, of course, brought my favourite subject to the fore once again.’ He regarded her face. ‘Though I would prefer you don’t look quite like this when you marry me.’
She sank back against the pillows, her right eye now shut. ‘I would also prefer to have two eyes on you at all times, James Anderson.’ She felt the energy leach out of her body and she sighed, winced and gave a slight groan. ‘I have to sleep now, James.’
