The Jade Widow

by Deborah O'Brien

  John, Charlotte and Eliza returned to Millbrooke on the Friday afternoon train. Joseph and James were at the station to meet them, having driven into town in their open carriage pulled by Eliza’s horse, Neddy. Amy and Charlie had walked down to the station from Paterson Street. As the three passengers alighted from the train, their faces looked pale and drawn. The flag-waving was over; the waiting and worrying had begun.

  ‘Why don’t you come to the house for afternoon tea?’ suggested Amy. ‘I’ve made a ginger sponge.’

  ‘I could never resist Amy’s sponge cake,’ Eliza replied hopefully.

  ‘So that’s decided,’ said Joseph.

  They all piled into the carriage which Neddy pulled slowly up the hill, past the Millbrooke Arms, the post office and the stores that lined Miller Street, before turning left into Paterson Street. They stopped outside a big house surrounded on three sides by a wide verandah. It looked much like the other houses in the street except for two things – the glossy red door and the row of jade plants growing in blue and white pots along the verandah. This past spring they had produced flowers for the first time, fragrant, white blooms. Jimmy said the event signified the owner’s fortunes were in the ascendant.

  Once Eliza and Amy had made a big pot of tea and arranged slices of sponge on a plate, the family assembled in the parlour and took refreshments.

  ‘I can’t wait to hear everything that happened on Tuesday,’ said Amy.

  ‘Nor can I,’ added Joseph.

  ‘Well, as you probably know,’ said Eliza, ‘it was such an important occasion the Premier declared a public holiday.’

  ‘We do know,’ interjected James. ‘I didn’t have to go to school that day.’

  ‘Shhh,’ said Joseph. ‘How many times have I told you that children should be seen and not heard?’

  ‘It all started with a big parade in full dress uniform from the Victoria Barracks to the Quay,’ continued Eliza, smiling benevolently at James. ‘You should have seen them, marching down Gresham Street, a sea of white helmets. Almost eight hundred men.’

  ‘We had a good vantage point,’ said John, ‘from the balcony of my insurance broker’s office.’

  ‘I’d never seen such a crowd,’ said Eliza. ‘They were perched on parapets and peering from every window, waving handkerchiefs and hats. Later we went down to Circular Quay and the throng was even bigger. The police had erected barricades to hold them back. I can still hear the cheering.’

  ‘Two hundred thousand, according to the newspaper,’ said John.

  ‘In that case, most of the colony must have been there,’ said Amy.

  ‘How many people live in New South Wales, Mama?’ interrupted Charlie.

  ‘I really don’t know, Charlie. Do you, Papa?’ she asked, deferring to John Miller.

  ‘I do believe the population is almost a million.’

  ‘How many noughts is that, Grandpapa?’

  ‘Six. Now, let us listen to what Eliza has to say.’

  ‘When we arrived at Circular Quay,’ continued Eliza, ‘there was a special place for the families to assemble. Otherwise, we would never have found Daniel. The officers were introduced to the Governor and Lady Loftus. Then Lord Loftus made a very long and tedious speech about defending the Empire and honouring the Queen.’

  ‘Now, Eliza,’ said Joseph. ‘No politics, please.’

  ‘I wasn’t being political, just describing the events.’

  ‘According to the newspaper,’ said Joseph, ‘the Governor spoke most eloquently about it being the first time in the history of our great Empire that a distant colony has sent a contingent of volunteers at her own cost to assist the Imperial Forces in establishing order in a foreign land.’

  Eliza rolled her eyes. ‘What connection does the Soudan have with New South Wales? It is a dangerous precedent for us to meddle in the affairs of faraway places.’

  ‘I have never seen the harbour looking as beautiful as it did on Tuesday,’ said Charlotte, changing the subject. ‘It was packed with vessels of all sizes, decorated with gaily-coloured flags. There was a huge banner saying “Well done N.S.W. God Speed”. And towering above everything were the two tall steamships. They let us go on board for a while, together with the other families. Then a bell was rung and we had to leave. A band was playing “Auld Lang Syne”.’ Charlotte’s eyes were bright with tears. ‘At half past three the gangways were drawn and the guns of Fort Macquarie boomed out as the ships cast off, one after the other.’

  ‘Which one did Uncle Daniel sail on?’ asked James.

  ‘The Australasian,’ she said sadly, as if speaking the name of the ship had made the expedition unbearably real.

  Amy reached over and pressed Charlotte’s hand. ‘Don’t worry, Mama. God will watch over him.’

  As Amy washed the dishes from afternoon tea, Eliza dried them and placed them in the china cabinet. ‘Have you heard from St Cuthbert’s?’ she asked as she gave the silver cake forks a quick polish.

  ‘Last Monday. They said Charlie’s test results were unsatisfactory.’

  ‘Do you think his nerves got the better of him?’

  ‘Of course not. He was perfectly calm and he knew all the answers. It had nothing to do with the test.’ She lowered her voice even though the others were still in the parlour. ‘The headmaster doesn’t want him there . . . because he’s half-Chinese.’

  ‘Would you like Papa to have a word with the governors?’ asked Eliza.

  ‘No, they’re probably as bigoted as the headmaster. Besides, Charlie wouldn’t want to go there now.’

  ‘Was he fearfully disappointed?’

  ‘At first he was furious. Not in a loud kind of way but simmering inside. He tore up the letter and threw it in the compost heap.’

  Eliza smiled. ‘That’s the kind of thing his mother would have done.’

  ‘But he’s been very dignified ever since.’

  ‘Are you going to keep trying, Amy?’

  ‘My inclination is to send him to the school here in Millbrooke. But I saw how much he loved that college with its playing fields. If only I could find a boarding school which would accept him.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll find one. They can’t all have headmasters who are suspicious of the Chinese.’

  ‘Do you know, Eliza, I’m beginning to think life is going to be harder for Charlie because he’s not one thing or the other. He has to straddle both worlds – the Oriental and the Western – and I wonder if he will ever really be accepted by either one.’

  ‘Things will change, Amy. And perhaps he will become a bridge between the two.’

  Amy sighed loudly. ‘I’d like to think so. Sometimes I imagine him growing up to be Mayor of Millbrooke. But in my head I know it won’t happen. Not while anti-Chinese feelings are so strong in this colony that we actually have an act of Parliament restricting Chinese immigration.’

  ‘You never know. When the colonies are federated, there might be a fresh new start.’

  ‘With the same old politicians.’ Amy laughed and shook her head. ‘You’re ever the optimist, Eliza. Anyway, let’s not speak about this any more. I haven’t had a chance to ask what happened on your excursion to Cockatoo Ridge.’

  Eliza’s brow formed into a frown. ‘It was scarlatina. I can only pray it hasn’t turned into full-blown scarlet fever whilst I was away.’

  ‘You don’t think there will be an epidemic, do you?’

  ‘I doubt it. The farm is quite isolated. Anyway, you don’t need to worry. Cockatoo Ridge is a long way from Millbrooke.’

  ‘I’ve always wondered about doctors and germs. Why don’t they catch these horrible diseases?’

  ‘Some of us do. But I am always diligent about washing my hands and observing all the precautions espoused by Professors Lister and Pasteur.’

  ‘And what about Doctor Burns? Is he aware of these precautions?’

  ‘To his credit, he observes the rules of hygiene. In fact, he is quite knowledgeable on the subject.’

 
‘So the two of you have actually engaged in a conversation?’

  ‘We’ve discussed the case; we don’t indulge in personal banter.’

  ‘Of course not.’ Amy smiled despite herself.

  Eliza tossed her head disdainfully. ‘Just because you find Doctor Burns charming doesn’t mean that I have to feel the same way. Don’t expect me to like him, Amy. Not after he took the job that was meant for me.’

  VI

  ELIZA

  Monday 9th March, 1885

  It was only a few days since the Embarkation, but already Eliza was desperate for news of Daniel, even though logic told her there wouldn’t be any mail from him for many weeks to come. Meanwhile, the whole family checked the daily paper for news of the Soudan. Joseph had dubbed the campaign a great adventure and her father saw it as a noble cause, while Eliza and her mother were praying the uprising would be quelled before the NSW battalion disembarked in Suakin.

  It was odd how none of them had heard of Suakin before February and now it seemed like the most important place in the world. Eliza and Amy found it on the linen map that Amy used for teaching Charlie capital cities.

  ‘A port on the Red Sea,’ said Amy. ‘I wonder if the sea really is red.’

  ‘We shall write to Daniel and ask him,’ Eliza replied with a smile.

  Amy ran her hand over the map. ‘Eliza, just look at all the pink countries scattered across the globe.’

  ‘They’re simply colonies,’ she replied, ‘kowtowing to Britain and a Queen who barely knows they exist. Has she ever visited New South Wales? She just sends her minions to rule over us. Pompous men like Lord Loftus. The Americans certainly knew what they were doing when they had their War of Independence.’

  ‘Eliza, how dare you speak that way about the Queen! Even in jest.’

  ‘I wasn’t joking.’

  Amy gasped. ‘But that is heresy.’

  ‘Don’t you mean treason?’ said Eliza with a laugh.

  Amy shook her head in frustration. ‘What am I going to do with you, Eliza Miller?’

  The three Farrar children were recovering slowly, but their condition still necessitated regular visits from the doctor, at least three times a week. Having met and liked the family, Eliza was anxious about their welfare and therefore accepted Martin Burns’s offer to accompany him on his trips to the farm. To their credit, the parents were adhering religiously to the doctor’s advice about hygiene. Mrs Farrar washed the children’s handkerchiefs in boiling water, kept their bowls and utensils separate from the rest of the family and followed all the other suggestions Doctor Burns had made to avoid spreading the infection.

  On Thursday afternoon, during their journey back from Cockatoo Ridge, Eliza must have dropped off to sleep in the seat of the sulky. Doctor Burns’s voice jolted her awake, posing a very peculiar question:

  ‘Are you planning to undertake your residency on the Continent, Miss Miller?’

  ‘What would make you think that?’ she asked, still half-asleep.

  ‘I suppose it’s because I stayed on in Britain after I graduated. And I just assumed you would do something similar.’

  ‘I am not you, Doctor Burns. And the only place I want to practise medicine is right here in the place where I was born.’

  He must have tightened his grip on the reins because the horse slowed from a trot to a walk.

  ‘By that, do you mean New South Wales, or are you referring specifically to Millbrooke?’

  ‘Don’t play word games with me, Doctor Burns. You know very well that I wanted the job Doctor Allen gave to you.’ There, she had said it at last.

  As he pulled hard on the reins, the horse came to a sudden stop.

  ‘Is that why you resent my presence so much?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you feel the same way if you were in my place?’

  He looked at her for a moment. ‘I suppose I would. It can’t be easy, having to struggle to be accepted when you are skilled at your job.’

  She gave him a sideways glance from under her bonnet. Was he being sarcastic, or did he really believe she was a good doctor?

  ‘Would you have hated anyone who was appointed as Doctor Allen’s partner?’ he asked.

  When Eliza didn’t answer, he added, ‘I thought it was because you found me repugnant.’

  ‘You’re not repugnant,’ she replied. ‘But don’t expect me to like you.’

  ‘No, of course not,’ he said, flicking the reins and allowing the horse to break into a gentle canter.

  As she looked straight ahead she was sure she could hear a little chuckle. That made her even more determined not to be his friend.

  For the next few weeks the Miller family awaited news of the NSW Contingent. Word came that they had taken on provisions in Colombo. Then nothing. For all anyone knew, they might have been shipwrecked in the Arabian Sea. On Easter Saturday, Joseph appeared at the door to the drawing room, clutching a copy of The Sydney Morning Herald and shouting, ‘They’ve landed!’

  As the family gathered around, he pointed to a list of officers, beginning with Colonel Richardson, who was commanding the contingent. ‘Look, it even mentions Daniel by name. Apparently the British have been awaiting the arrival of the New South Welshmen in order to make an advance just over twenty miles inland to Tamai, where the rebel army has assembled. They are planning to march there, accompanied by a transport train of camels and mules. Ten thousand men. It might even be happening at this very moment.’

  An excited Joseph sounded as though he wanted to be part of it, but all Eliza could think was, please Lord, keep Daniel safe.

  ‘They will have to cross a desert,’ said their father, examining the map Amy had lent them. ‘It will be at least a day’s march.’

  ‘Won’t they be exhausted when they face the enemy?’ asked Charlotte.

  ‘Many of them are like Daniel, country boys used to droving and mustering in the heat and dust. You needn’t worry about their ability to deal with the enemy.’

  Eliza observed her mother’s pallid complexion and the deep lines in her brow resembling parched soil in a drought. No amount of reassurance from her husband was going to convince her that her younger son wasn’t in terrible danger.

  ‘When you’ve finished with the paper, I’ll cut out the article,’ said Charlotte. ‘I’m going to make a scrapbook for Daniel. It will be his homecoming gift.’

  Every day the newspaper brought reports from the Soudan. Thank goodness for the ‘Extension’ as it was popularly known, the electric telegraph company linking Sydney to London via Singapore and Bombay. Eliza marvelled at the way most of the world was now connected by cablegrams. Letters, on the other hand, still travelled by ship and it would be weeks before they would hear directly from Daniel. In the meantime, they could follow his progress, courtesy of the newspaper.

  The assault on Tamai had ended in a stand-off. One of the NSW boys had been shot in the shoulder and another through the foot. Finally the rebels had retreated with their spears, clubs and Remington rifles. Where had these desert tribesmen acquired modern weapons? Eliza wondered. And how did they maintain their supply of bullets and cartridges? She and her father had hidden the article about the Remingtons. Better for Charlotte to believe the tribesmen carried only primitive weapons.

  ‘It’s a plan of my own invention.’

  LEWIS CARROLL

  Through the Looking-Glass, Chapter VIII

  VII

  AMY

  Thursday 30th April, 1885

  Whenever people asked Amy Chen why she had decided to build a hotel, she found it difficult to give a definitive answer. After Charles died, her focus had been on the emporium. For a long time she and Jimmy had considered extending the building so that they could stock large pieces of furniture from China – rosewood wardrobes, four-poster beds, bulky cabinets. Finally they both decided that the emporium should remain unchanged, exactly the way Charles had left it.

  Then Jimmy had received yet another in a succession of letters from his mother, reques
ting that he return to his homeland and find a bride. Unlike his elder brother, who had defied his mother and married a white girl, Jimmy had acceded to his mother’s wishes, returning to Millbrooke with a glossy haired bride called Mei Lin. Although he had tried to persuade his mother to accompany them, she had refused to leave her home in Kwangtung. On his return, Jimmy added rooms at the back of the emporium for himself and his new wife, who had confided in Amy that they were anxious to start a family. When the months passed and nothing happened, they sought advice from Doctor Allen. ‘Just let nature take its course,’ he told them. Months turned into years and still no baby. Jimmy and May hid their sorrow and threw themselves into running the emporium, while Amy took on the role of selecting the stock and organising its importation from China. Slowly it dawned on her that she needed to do something bigger, something more challenging, but what it might be she had no idea.

  In the autumn of 1881, when Eliza left for France, her absence left a hole in Amy’s life as deep as a mine shaft. Each day Amy and Charlie would follow Eliza’s sea journey on their linen map of the world, imagining the ship steaming across the Indian Ocean, making port in Aden, sailing up the Red Sea and through the Suez Canal, calling at Naples and eventually disembarking in Southampton. John Miller had booked a week’s accommodation for Eliza at the illustrious Great Western Hotel in London, just enough time to explore the city before crossing to the Continent to commence her studies.

  All through the long Millbrooke winter Amy waited for a letter. Finally an envelope arrived from London, its pages filled with Eliza’s tiny handwriting. Tucked inside was a postcard of the Great Western itself. Amy was entranced by the fairy-tale towers at either end of the building, each containing a two-storey bedroom. That was when she began to build a fantasy in her imagination – a combination of castle and guest house. A grand hostelry, which would attract visitors from the city availing themselves of the crisp Millbrooke air and its recuperative powers. In her imagination she could conjure up any kind of architectural decoration she fancied – stone dragons perched on parapets, huge stained-glass windows with criss-cross panes and a grand foyer so commodious it could accommodate the population of an entire town within its wood-panelled walls.