Shadows in the Valley

by Elizabeth Haran

  “Won’t you join me for a cup of tea or some lemonade?” Clementine asked, as Abbey went to leave. “Jack has been called upon to see to a farming matter, so I’d enjoy the company.” She didn’t want to let the opportunity slip by to speak to Abbey alone.

  “I’ll be back soon,” Jack called as he went out the backdoor.

  “Oh!” Abbey said, glancing from the backdoor to Clementine. “Isn’t Mrs. Hawker about?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone with Clementine. There was something a bit frightening about her.

  “I believe she’s having an afternoon nap,” Clementine said. “Please, join me!”

  “Well, if Mrs. Hawker doesn’t need me,” Abbey said, already falling under the spell of Clementine’s beguiling tone. “I’ll have lemonade, but first I’ll put this basket in the kitchen.”

  When Abbey got back to the living room, Clementine had poured her a glass of lemonade from a pitcher sitting on a tray on the coffee table.

  “I’ve been picnicking in the garden with Heath Mason,” Abbey said, not sure whether Clementine had recognised Heath from a distance. “He saw you pull up in your carriage and told me that he’s acquainted with you.” Abbey felt like she was babbling nervously, but she couldn’t help it. She felt awkward and unsophisticated beside Clementine.

  Clementine looked surprised, and not pleasantly. “Did he?” she said, worried about what else he might have said about her.

  “Yes, he said you’d met socially.”

  “That’s right,” Clementine said cautiously. “I have to admit, I’m surprised that you two know each other.”

  “We only met recently,” Abbey said, looking down at her glass. She was certain Jack wouldn’t have said anything to Clementine about her history with Ebenezer Mason.

  “Jack told me you met Mr. Mason here, but he didn’t say why he was here in the first place. They’re not really friends, so it seems a bit odd that he would call out of the blue.”

  “I …” Abbey didn’t know what to say. “Is there something amiss with the lambs?” she asked, changing the subject. “Is that why Mr. Hawker had to go out?”

  “I don’t believe so,” Clementine said, clearly disinterested. “Are you going to see Mr. Mason again?”

  “He said he would be back to pick up his picnic basket, so I suppose I will,” Abbey said. She wondered why Clementine was so intrigued with Heath’s movements.

  “Why didn’t he take it with him when he left?” Clementine asked. She’d heard Abbey tell Jack that Heath had felt poorly, but she was curious about whether there was more to it than that. If they’d had a disagreement, she wanted to know about it.

  “He didn’t feel well and left rather abruptly,” Abbey said.

  “Oh. What was wrong with him?”

  “I don’t know,” Abbey said. “Whatever it was, it just came over him.”

  “Jack told me his father recently passed away. I’m surprised he’s socialising so soon,” Clementine said. She was even more surprised that he was choosing Abbey’s company.

  “Having a picnic is not really socialising, is it?” Abbey said. “Talking to someone might actually help him cope with his grief.”

  “If you were a good friend, then, yes, but you’ve only just met. Forgive me for saying so, and I’m not trying to be unkind, but Mr. Mason usually socialises in upper-class circles.” Even a tailor’s daughter wasn’t good enough, it seemed. Otherwise, why else would he have rejected her? “He has quite a reputation with women. He readily enjoys their company, even the married ones, as long as they are socially connected.”

  Abbey was startled. “He didn’t strike me as that type,” she said, wide-eyed.

  “Believe me, he is. That is why I’m curious about why he is spending time with you.”

  Abbey blushed.

  “I’m not being mean, Abbey. I know you are not a servant per se, but a companion does not even register in the social hierarchy, and I’ve never known Mr. Mason to choose to spend time with someone employed in a household.”

  Abbey felt confused. Was Clementine saying that Heath was like his father? She was beginning to feel very uncomfortable under Clementine’s scrutiny. “He’s been very polite and gentlemanly towards me. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know that well.”

  Clementine was baffled, and it showed. “How did you come to be Mrs. Hawker’s companion? I can’t imagine her going to Burra to look for someone, and she said that’s where you come from.”

  “We met at an employment agency in Clare,” Abbey said, not intending to go into the details.

  “Oh, that would be at Mr. Sharp’s.”

  “That’s right,” Abbey said.

  “I’m well acquainted with Mr. Sharp. Have you done this type of work before?” Clementine peered at Abbey over the rim of her cup.

  “No,” Abbey said, wishing Jack would return. She also hoped that Milton Sharp didn’t tell Clementine that she’d been a homeless waif who fainted on his doorstep. It would be mortifying. “Do you know where Mr. Hawker went?”

  “His manager came by and said something about one of the stallions, I believe. I didn’t pay much attention. I don’t know much about horses, as the farrier in Clare takes care of mine.”

  “I hope it’s nothing serious,” Abbey said, thinking she heard the backdoor.

  “What did your father do?” Clementine asked.

  “He …” Much to Abbey’s relief, Jack entered the room.

  “Sorry for the interruption,” he said to Clementine.

  Abbey was grateful for the welcome intrusion.

  “I hope your manager doesn’t bother you again, Jack,” Clementine said. “I’d like to be able to have an uninterrupted conversation with you.”

  Jack shrugged. “As it’s Sunday, Elias will only fetch me if it’s necessary, Clementine,” he replied.

  “Is your stallion all right?” Abbey asked.

  “Yes, Elias thought he had an infection in his hoof, but Ben Dobson assures me it’s nothing serious.”

  “You’d think those men could sort it out between themselves, Jack,” Clementine moaned. “That’s what you pay them for.”

  “I like to be informed, especially when it’s a problem with one of my prize animals,” Jack said patiently.

  “Are the lambs all right?” Abbey asked.

  Jack smiled. “Yes, Elias tells me the little one that was lost seems to be doing well today.”

  Abbey was pleased. “Are they still in the paddock behind the shearing sheds?”

  “They are. Why? Do you want to see them again?”

  “Yes, I might take a walk down there,” Abbey said, standing. She wanted to see them, but even more, she wanted to get away from Clementine’s barrage of questions and gossip about Heath. If he were a cad, as she was implying, Abbey would rather not hear about it.

  “That’s a good idea,” Jack said. “Why don’t we go for a walk, too, Clementine?”

  Clementine looked appalled. “Not in this heat, Jack.”

  “I can loan you one of Mother’s parasols,” Jack said, offering her his hand.

  “How far is it?” Clementine asked, standing. “I don’t have walking shoes on.” She’d been seeing Jack for almost a year, but had never ventured far from the house and certainly not in the direction of the shearing sheds. Rowdy shearers, who often drank to excess after a hard day’s work, were not who she would choose to socialise with.

  “It’s just down the road about half a mile,” Jack said. “You can take your buggy down, if you like. Abbey can ride with you, and I’ll take my horse.”

  Clementine felt she had little choice. “Very well,” she said impatiently and began putting her bonnet on. She couldn’t see anything interesting about lambs, but she was not going to let Jack and Abbey go alone, and it seemed they were intent on going.

  *
**

  When they arrived at the shearing sheds, Jack told Clementine they’d walk through the sheds to the paddock behind, rather than go around, as it was shorter.

  “Phew,” Clementine complained, when they entered through double wooden doors. She covered her nose with one hand and lifted her skirts with the other. Abbey had anticipated her reaction; the sheds smelled terrible.

  “How can the shearers stand being in here?” Clementine asked as she hurriedly followed Jack to the far side, where he opened a door, and sunshine streamed in.

  “Some of the shearers smell worse than the sheep,” he said, trying not to laugh.

  “I can well believe that,” Clementine said, breathing deeply the fresh air outside.

  When they reached the fence railing around the paddock, Wilbur and Ernie were standing nearby, smoking, while the sheep ate the provided feed.

  “Hello, Wilbur, Ernie,” Abbey said, noticing that Clementine gave her a strange look.

  The stockmen greeted her lazily. “Hello, missus,” they said, not even bothering to swat the flies that crawled on their faces.

  “Ugh, the flies out here are shocking,” Clementine whined as she swatted at them furiously. “I knew there was a reason I kept away from livestock.”

  Jack ignored her comment, and Wilbur and Ernie looked amused. Abbey thought of what Heath had said about Clementine not being suited to life as a farmer’s wife. He obviously knew her well enough.

  “How can you tell which lamb is the one that was lost?” Abbey asked, scanning the flock.

  Jack laughed as he climbed through the fence railings, and so did Ernie and Wilbur.

  “Jack’s like a father with lots of children,” Wilbur said. “He knows them all.”

  Abbey could not believe it. “They all look the same to me,” she said, watching Jack as he made his way through the flock before setting his sights on one lamb, which he caught. It was crying loudly as he carried it towards her. He came close to the fence so Abbey could stroke it.

  “He’s beautiful,” Abbey said, loving the feel of his soft, white wool.

  “He’s a she,” Jack said.

  “Oh,” Abbey said smiling. “She’s just adorable.” She turned to Clementine. “Do you want to pet her?”

  “Certainly not,” Clementine said. “It might have fleas.”

  Jack shook his head. “She doesn’t have fleas, Clementine,” he said with what seemed like endless patience. “Why don’t you name her, Abbey?” he suggested.

  “Can I?” Abbey said, delighted.

  “Yes, why not?” Jack said. “I told you I bought a ram called Napoleon, didn’t I? Hopefully he’ll arrive within the next few days.”

  “How about Josephine, then?” Abbey said excitedly, thinking of Napoleon’s great love.

  Jack laughed. “Splendid. ‘Josephine,’ it is.” He looked at Clementine. “May I?” he said, reaching for the ribbon wrapped around the top of her bonnet.

  Clementine had no idea what he was doing, but she watched in disbelief as he put the red ribbon around the lamb’s neck and tied it in a bow.

  “There you go, Abbey, now you will know Josephine when she’s in the flock.”

  Abbey smiled, but she didn’t fail to notice that Clementine didn’t look very happy.

  More than unhappy, Clementine was thoroughly annoyed. “I must go now, Jack. My father is arriving this evening, and I’ve preparations to make.”

  Jack’s smile evaporated. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll walk you back to your carriage.” He deposited the lamb on the ground, and it scampered back to its waiting mother. Abbey watched it, thinking it was charming beyond belief. Its mother sniffed it reassuringly, obviously relieved to have it back.

  “Come along, Abbey,” Clementine said as she trudged towards the sheds. She had no intention of leaving her with the men, just in case Jack went back to her. “I’ll drop you back at the house.”

  It was on the tip of Abbey’s tongue to say that she’d walk back, but she dutifully followed Jack and Clementine after saying goodbye to Wilbur and Ernie.

  Back at the house, Abbey went inside, leaving Jack to say goodbye to Clementine in private. He climbed in the buggy beside her.

  “Hopefully, I’ll be able to come out during the week while my father looks after the shop, Jack,” Clementine said. “Or even better, why don’t you come into town for a few days? Father would be pleased to see you, and we could dine at one of the hotels.”

  “I’d love to, Clementine, but with no labourers, I’ll be working on the water channel this week with my brothers.”

  “It won’t take all week, will it?”

  “It probably will. It’s a big job.”

  “But you will have help, won’t you?”

  “Not much. Ernie and Wilbur will have to watch the sheep and lambs, and the Dobsons will be busy with the horses. So, there’ll only be Elias, Father Quinlan, me, and my brothers. I can’t predict how long it will take.”

  Clementine looked crestfallen.

  “I’m sorry I’m always busy, Clementine,” Jack said. “You’ve been very patient. Once Bungaree is established and if there aren’t any more gold rushes, I should have more free time. I wouldn’t blame you for not waiting, though.”

  “We’ve had this discussion before, Jack. You know I think you are worth waiting for.” She put her arms around his neck, and he gently kissed her.

  “Take care on the journey home, won’t you?” Jack said as Clementine turned her buggy in the direction towards town.

  Jack watched her as she went down the road. He thought about the fun they’d had when they’d first met. He’d been judging horticultural shows in town, so they’d seen each other quite often. But then his mother came to stay, and he’d been busy on the farm, so their relationship had suffered. He admired Clementine’s patience. But in the back of his mind was the niggling doubt that she’d ever be truly happy at Bungaree, should they marry. He could imagine her as the mistress of the house, and she got along very well with his mother, so there was a possibility that it could work. But he wasn’t yet one hundred percent sure, so he was dragging his feet about proposing.

  ***

  As Clementine travelled the road to Clare, she had plenty of time to think about Jack. She believed it was time he proposed, but she sensed his reticence. She understood that he wanted the farm to be well-established, and she wanted that, too, especially as income from the farm would be needed to pay for a trip abroad. That was her ultimate goal. She’d tactfully approached the subject of travelling together, and he’d seemed intrigued, but, obviously, he was preoccupied with the farm.

  Clementine’s thoughts drifted to Abbey. She couldn’t quite figure her out. Somehow she had Heath Mason interested in her. Or perhaps not. He’d left the farm abruptly, claiming to be ill, but Clementine didn’t believe that. She’d known Heath Mason for some time and had even been secretly infatuated with him until she had humiliated herself. Although Abbey was attractive, she was not his usual type. So, what did he want with her? Clementine was determined to find out.

  ***

  Back at the house, Abbey busied herself in the kitchen, as it was Sabu’s day off. She sliced some cold, leftover chicken, and chopped a few tomatoes and cucumbers. In the pantry she found some relish. She didn’t notice Sybil come into the kitchen.

  “Was that Clementine’s carriage I saw from my bedroom window?” she asked.

  “Yes, she was here for a visit while you were asleep,” Abbey said. “She had to leave early. Her father is arriving in Clare late this afternoon.”

  “Oh, that’s right. She mentioned that yesterday. I’ve met her father. He’s a very nice man.”

  “What of her mother?” Abbey asked as she buttered bread.

  “She died a few years ago. She has a sister, but she lives in the city.” Sybil frowned. “It’s unusual
for her to visit Bungaree twice in one week,” she commented.

  “Is it?” Abbey was intrigued.

  “Yes, with her work at the shop, and Jack busy on the farm, they usually only see each other once a week. Perhaps their courtship is progressing.”

  Abbey didn’t think so. “I haven’t had a chance to say that I’m sorry for embarrassing you yesterday in front of Clementine,” she said.

  Still half asleep, Sybil was confused. “Embarrassing me?”

  “By mentioning that we played cards with the servants. I was under the impression that you and Clementine were very close, so I hadn’t realised that it was inappropriate. Obviously, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry if my thoughtlessness will cause you any further embarrassment, should Clementine tell someone.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Sybil said. “I should have told Clementine myself. I shouldn’t worry so much about what people think. We are living in the middle of nowhere, after all, not high society London.” Sybil sat down at the table with a wistful expression on her face.

  “Is something bothering you, Mrs. Hawker?” Abbey asked.

  “No, not really. I just miss life in London. I miss the theatre and the buzz of opening night. I miss the costumes and the actors, even the props and the greasy smell of the face paint.”

  Abbey felt powerless to help. “Isn’t there a theatre in Clare?”

  Sybil shook her head, sighing. “No. The only building of a suitable size is the Masonic Hall, which is used for fetes, craft and produce shows, and different kinds of community meetings, but that’s about it. I had hoped there’d be something. That’s why I agreed to come out here. But I was sadly disappointed.”

  Abbey could see that the poor woman was troubled, and she didn’t know what she could do to help.

  CHAPTER 15

  On a warm, overcast, and gloomy Monday morning somehow befitting the occasion, Samuel McDougal and an assistant arrived at the Martindale estate driving an elegant black Dotteridge hearse drawn by four black horses. It was not Heath’s idea that his father be buried on the estate. His father had put this request in his will, and Edward Martin, as his solicitor and executor, had made sure that these arrangements were followed.