Colonial Daughter

by Heather Garside

  ‘So she had a wee bit o’ trouble with Mrs Greenwood?’

  ‘Yeah, but if you met the woman you’d know why. I took Miss Forrest out there and it seemed a queer set-up. They gave her a hard time from the start. The kids were spoilt rotten.’ He paused and looked at Jock appealingly. ‘I wish you’d talk to Mrs Jamieson about it. You said yourself she’s been flat out since the tutor left and Mercy would sooner be out in the paddock.’

  ‘That’s as may be,’ agreed Jamieson, ‘but ye’re asking us to take on a lass that we know nothing of bar that she spent nearly a week traipsing around the bush with ye. We don’t want your floosie foisted onto us, lad. If ye want to do the right thing by her, ye had better marry her.’

  ‘Look, Jock,’ said Lloyd, impatience outweighing embarrassment, ‘I wish you’d get it out of your head that she’s me woman. She’s a sight too grand for me–she wouldn’t have me if I asked her. And she is a lady, even if it don’t sound that way. Hell, I wouldn’t ask you to take on some trollop to teach your kids.’

  ‘No, I guess not, at that. But how did she come to be roaming about by herself in the first place?’

  ‘I’m still not sure. She had to leave the Barclays in a hurry, but she wouldn’t tell me much about it. I gather she wanted to get away from some rake that was coming to visit.’

  Jamieson offered Lloyd tobacco and filled his own pipe. He returned the pouch to his pocket and puffed in silence for a moment. ‘Ye know, all this that ye’ve told me ain’t much of a reference.’

  ‘I suppose it isn’t. But that’s why I’m asking you. At least I can tell you the full story like I couldn’t tell anyone else. And I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think she would be a good teacher for your kids. She’s had a sight more education than the pair of us put together.’

  ‘Och, I don’t know, lad. I’ll have to talk to Harriet and see what she’s got to say. What did ye say the lass’s name was?’

  ‘Miss Forrest. Lucy Forrest.’

  ‘Aye, well.’ He lifted the horse’s near fore and held a shoe against it, assessing the fit. ‘I’m not making any promises, mind ye.’ He dropped the hoof and turned to look up at Lloyd under raised brows. ‘What about this lass at the Banana, then? She’s not the sort to do ye any good. I thought better of ye than to get mixed up with a hussy. Just be careful she doesn’t try and trap ye.’

  ‘I’m finished with her now.’ Lloyd shrugged away his inner shame. ‘I was a fool, I suppose, but I’d had a bit much to drink.’

  ‘Well, I was married by the time I was your age. I hadn’t been near a woman afore that.’ He surveyed Lloyd gravely. ‘Though I suppose I never drank, either. I’d hate to see ye going down the same road as your old man.’

  Sometimes Lloyd found himself wishing his neighbour was a normal, fallible sinner like himself. ‘Jock, I saw what the grog did to him and just because I had a few the other night doesn’t mean I’m about to follow in his tracks.’

  Jock regarded him soberly. ‘I know ye think it’s nothing to do with me, but ye haven’t got your family to look out for ye.’ He turned back to his horse. ‘I’ll talk to Harriet when I’m finished here, but don’t be surprised if she doesn’t like it.’

  Chapter Nine

  Louise had little to do in Banana but while away the hours in her hotel room. A message that she had visitors had her hurrying downstairs, her stomach squirming in a confusion of anticipation and dread.

  A middle-aged couple awaited her in the hotel lounge. The woman stepped forward to shake her hand. ‘Miss Forrest, I take it? We are Mr and Mrs Jamieson from Kilbride.’

  Mrs Jamieson was a plain, stern-looking woman with dark hair drawn severely back from a center parting. She went on to ask a lot of questions which Louise tried to answer truthfully without revealing too much. Her little, heavily-bearded husband seemed less intimidating, but made no attempt to hide his surprise as he ran his shrewd eyes over her clothing. Her gown, though the plainest Louise owned, was of better fabric and tailoring than anything she had seen in the streets of Banana.

  ‘Ye seem a bit flash for a governess,’ he told her. ‘No sense us taking on a lass who thinks she’s above ordinary folks like us.’

  ‘Mr Jamieson, I shall be grateful for any respectable post.’

  ‘And so you should be, in the circumstances,’ his wife interjected. ‘But I’m willing to take you on trial. You seem to be well-qualified. I can only wonder why you’ve compromised your good name with your recent behaviour. I know’—she waved her hand dismissively at Louise’s protest —‘you’ve given me a lot of excuses, but I think there’s a bit more to it. However, if you can behave yourself, I’m prepared to put that behind us. Perhaps you’ll be able to encourage our eldest daughter in some feminine pursuits.’

  Louise breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you for giving me a chance, Mrs Jamieson. I shan’t fail you.’ It was an echo of her words to Lloyd and she’d proved them true.

  ‘But be warned, young lady. At the first hint of trouble you’ll be out the door.’

  ~*~

  Louise soon discovered that Mrs Jamieson had a kind heart under that forbidding exterior. She’d expected to be under scrutiny for the first week or so and conceded the fairness of that in the circumstances. But her new employer was also just, giving credit where it was due.

  She wondered why sixteen-year-old Mercy didn’t help her mother with her siblings’ lessons, until she realized Mercy had a greater interest in animals than young children. The girl was more likely to be found helping her father and brothers with the mustering than assisting her mother with home and family. She possessed a menagerie of pets—a cat, several dogs, a young poddy calf she fed from a bucket, an orphaned kangaroo-rat and a white sulphur-crested cockatoo in a cage. That was to say nothing of her horses.

  From the first day, Mercy seemed to dislike her but the other children were less of a challenge. Andrew and Donald, at fifteen and thirteen respectively, were already working and weren’t her concern, while little Gertie hadn’t begun her schooling. Maggie, Annie, Agnes and Maurice accepted her readily and quickly settled into a routine. They were intelligent, likeable children, sometimes mischievous, but always responsive to discipline. After an initial period of adjustment, Louise found herself handling their lessons with confidence. She would set the older children some sums while she attended to Agnes and Maurice, or alternately busy these two with their copybooks while Maggie and Annie recited their spelling.

  On Saturdays Louise often took her pupils on a nature study excursion, accompanied by Mercy and occasionally by Andrew and Donald. At other times the entire family picnicked by the river, near a big waterhole where the young ones caught perch and jewfish and rowed in a small dinghy kept for navigating the river at flood-time.

  The Jamiesons lived simply, but they were a happy, close family. Mrs Jamieson told Louise how she’d emigrated from England as a young woman, meeting and marrying the Scottish-born Jock in Brisbane. Jock had selected their property, Kilbride, in 1862, initially stocking it with sheep. Thanks to the ravages of dingoes, Jock had replaced them with cattle in recent years, but an aging Chinese shepherded a small, remnant flock used mostly as “killers”, providing meat for the station’s consumption.

  Even with Louise’s help with the children, Mrs Jamieson seemed to be endlessly working, keeping the big slab-house clean and tidy, making bread, jam and preserves and sewing clothing for the entire family. There was only one household servant, a young Aboriginal girl who answered to Elsie, her tribal name forgotten to all but herself. Mr Jamieson employed one stockman, a middle-aged man called Ernie Bates. Louise saw little of him as he always ate his meals in the kitchen with Elsie.

  Here, she actually was allowed to dine with the family.

  ~*~

  One Saturday afternoon when the men folk were out on the run shifting cattle, their neighbour came to visit. Louise noticed Lloyd’s arrival from her position near the window where she was helping Mercy with some troublesome needlewo
rk, but she said nothing. She had her suspicions as to why Mercy wasn’t particularly friendly towards her.

  The girl lifted her head as voices floated through the window. She jumped to her feet and hastened to look out.

  ‘Why, it’s Mr Kavanagh!’ Mercy’s eyes brightened, her colour rising as she brought her hand up to her cheek. She came away from the window, giving a little childish half-skip and deposited her embroidery carelessly on her chair. ‘I’m going out–are you coming, Miss Forrest?’

  ‘Yes, since there would be no point in remaining here without you. Now, Mercy, walk out like a lady–don’t run, please.’

  She followed her charge sedately, trying to stifle her own quiver of anticipation. It was bad enough to have Mercy swooning over Lloyd; she was determined not to join her in making an idiot of herself.

  Lloyd was standing at the top of the veranda steps and she heard Mrs Jamieson apologise for her husband’s absence and invite him to join them for afternoon tea. As they sat about the table drinking tea and eating scones, Mercy added her own invitation.

  ‘Miss Forrest is taking the children for a walk shortly. Will you come with us, Mr Kavanagh?’

  Lloyd glanced from Mercy to Louise. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Donald came across an emu’s nest in the horse-paddock the other day. We’re hoping to find it.’

  ‘Yes and he said it had nine eggs in it!’ Maurice interjected. ‘I’ve never seen an emu’s nest. What about you, Mr Kavanagh?’

  ‘Not for a while.’ He smiled indulgently at the little boy. ‘Since your father’s not here, I may as well go with you.’

  Except for Mercy, the young Jamiesons seemed to regard Lloyd much as they would a favourite uncle. Louise wondered if he was aware of Mercy’s infatuation. Surely he must be; her occasional naive attempts at indifference were as transparent as her usual eager seeking of his attention. And Lloyd was far from obtuse.

  They set out, having donned shady hats and stout walking shoes. There had been some discussion on whether Gertie should accompany them.

  ‘She’d better stay with me,’ Mrs Jamieson said. ‘You could be hours on this wild goose chase. She won’t be able to keep up.’

  ‘It’s not a wild goose chase, Mother,’ broke in Maurice indignantly. ‘It’s an emu, not a goose.’

  ‘That’s just an expression, Maurice. A figure of speech. Now, please don’t interrupt me.’

  Four-year-old Gertie had meanwhile broken into sobs. ‘But I wanna go! Please lemme go!’

  ‘I can carry her if she knocks up,’ offered Lloyd. ‘She’s only a little scrap.’

  ‘I shouldn’t give in to her, but, very well. If you don’t mind, Lloyd.’

  Louise stiffened as Mrs Jamieson turned her penetrating gaze on her. Did she suspect his motives in joining this expedition? She would have to be careful. She couldn’t afford to have her employer suspicious of their relationship.

  The children ran ahead, searching an area across the gully that Donald had described to them. Louise followed at a sedate speed and Lloyd fell in beside her. Mercy seemed undecided, not running with the children, but obviously impatient with their relaxed pace.

  Once Mercy had moved out of earshot, Lloyd turned to smile at her. ‘Are you happy with your new job, Miss Forrest?’

  ‘Yes, very.’ She returned his smile. ‘I’m already attached to the children and Mr and Mrs Jamieson are very kind to me. I haven’t thanked you for securing the position for me.’

  ‘Don’t mention it. They wouldn’t have taken you on if they hadn’t liked you. Jock didn’t seem to think much of it at first.’

  ‘Thank you, nevertheless. You seem fated to come to my rescue.’

  He gave a brief smile. ‘I wonder if Mrs Greenwood’s got herself another governess yet?’

  ‘If she has, I feel sorry for the girl. I’m not surprised she hasn’t found one who’ll stay.’

  He chuckled. ‘Perhaps I should go into business escorting ‘em backwards and forwards.’

  ‘Oh, Lloyd.’ Laughter bubbled out of her. ‘Mrs Greenwood would love that.’

  Awareness leapt between them as she met those grey-green eyes, still smiling but suddenly intense. Suddenly she realized she’d used his first name and mentally chided herself. The consequence of such familiarity had been proved to her already.

  It was right there between them now, though they kept on walking, not touching despite the memories which still shocked Louise with their intimacy. Her blood rushed hot in her veins as she saw Lloyd swallow, his eyes intent on hers. She turned away quickly to break the rising tension.

  Mercy chose that moment to rejoin them, her possessive attitude towards Lloyd apparently overtaking her desire to discover the emu’s nest. The girl stared at them with open suspicion. ‘What are you two talking about?’

  ‘Nothing much.’ Louise smiled at her, relieved at the distraction. ‘We were just discussing my former employer, Mrs Greenwood.’

  ‘What was she like?’

  She met Lloyd’s eyes briefly. ‘A dragon. I had better not say any more. I don’t wish to set you an example of disrespect for your elders.’

  Mercy’s colour rose and she looked at Louise as if she wished her far away. It was obvious she’d sensed the undercurrents and perhaps treating her like a child wasn’t the answer. Mercy turned away in a huff and almost ran to rejoin the children.

  Louise cleared her throat uneasily. ‘This is none of my business, Mr Kavanagh, but do you realize how that girl feels about you?’

  Lloyd looked uncomfortable. ‘I can’t help that. She’ll grow out of it–she’s only a kid.’

  ‘She’s sixteen,’ she reminded him. ‘She’s not so much younger than I.’

  ‘She seems much younger. I don’t think Mrs Jamieson would fancy me as a son-in-law, anyway.’

  Surprised, she darted him a sidelong glance. ‘I thought she liked you.’

  He shrugged. ‘She’s always nice to me, but she doesn’t approve of me background. Jock doesn’t let it worry him, but they’re both so religious and strait-laced and I haven’t been inside a church in years. I’m a Catholic and they’re Presbyterian. Do you go to church, Louise?’

  ‘We used to go, as a family, when we visited Rockhampton.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘It was the thing to do, to be seen at church. I imagine my parents will be attending Sunday Service regularly now, trying to impress the–’

  She broke off abruptly as Maurice ran up and clutched her hand.

  ‘We’ve found the nest!’ The little boy was almost out of breath. ‘The emu was sitting on it, but she ran away as soon as she saw us.’

  ‘He, you mean,’ Lloyd corrected him. ‘The male emu sits on the eggs. Or so they say. How many are there?’

  ‘There’s nine. I know, ‘cause I counted ‘em!’

  Lloyd looked surprised. ‘Can you count to nine, Maurice?’

  ‘I can count to a hundred!’ Maurice stamped his foot indignantly. ‘I’m six years old, you know!’

  Louise glanced at Lloyd, catching his wink. She suppressed a smile. ‘Mr Kavanagh’s only teasing you, Maurice.’

  But the little boy’s attention was already elsewhere. He was tugging at Lloyd’s arm. ‘Come and look at the nest. It’s flat on the ground, in the middle of nowhere! And the eggs are beaut. They’re big and blackish-green, with bumps all over ‘em! Do you think you could blow one for me, Mr Kavanagh?’

  ‘I’ll give it a go. Come on, Miss Forrest. We’d better have a look at this nest.’

  The eggs were as Maurice had said, out in the middle of nowhere. There was no evidence that the bird had prepared the spot at all and why that particular spot had been chosen over any other was mystery. The eggs were about the size of a grapefruit, only oval, with a pitted surface.

  ‘Why doesn’t the emu make a proper nest?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps the lack of nest is, in its way, a type of camouflage.’ Louise picked up an egg and turned it over in her hand, examining it closely.<
br />
  ‘Which one do you want, Maurice?’ Lloyd crouched beside the little boy, thankfully distracting him before he could ask what ‘camouflage’ meant.

  After inspecting each one in turn and squabbling with Gertie, who thought she should choose, Maurice eventually made his selection. Gertie stood there wailing, her eyes and nose streaming, so to placate her Lloyd threw her onto his shoulder for a ride home. Louise watched him take his hat in one hand and steady the little girl by grasping her sturdy legs, while Gertie clutched his bare head. She was laughing now, despite her tear-streaked face.

  As she watched Louise was surprised by Lloyd’s ease with the little girl. Of course, he’d had a whole family of younger brothers and sisters, but it hadn’t sounded as if he’d known much of the affection and kindness he was showing to Gertie. Perhaps his grandmother had been able to compensate for her downtrodden daughter’s neglect.

  Something made her look up and she found Mercy staring at her, a resentful expression on her face. Dismayed, she realized she must be careful to hide her interest in Lloyd from Mercy.

  Chapter Ten

  The end of the year was approaching. Between Christmas and New Year a two-day race meeting and ball was to be held in Banana. Louise found herself caught up in the family’s excitement and preparations.

  She had ordered three new gowns from the dressmaker in Banana. There was a taffeta and a poplin for the race-meeting and a muslin with trimmings of lace for the ball. When the finished gowns arrived, Louise felt like crying as she compared them to the garments she’d left with the Barclays. But at least the muslin with its three-quarter-length sleeves was suitable for a governess, which was more than could be said of the low-cut sleeveless ball gown she’d worn in Sydney the previous year. It would hardly do to have all heads staring at her.

  The children were almost beside themselves with excitement when they set out for the races, Jock Jamieson driving his wife and children in the wagonette while Andrew, Donald, Mercy and Louise accompanied them on horseback. Any excursion to town was a rare event in lives that Louise would once have considered hard and monotonous. Yet she was rapidly realising the novelty of such pleasures added to their enjoyment, making the sophisticated frivolities she’d experienced seem jaded in comparison.