by Walker, Lucy
Jeckie pretended not to be a part of this conversation. Otherwise she might have found it a little bit funny. Of course — deep in her heart — she knew it wasn’t funny either to Aunt Isobel or nice Jane. Mallibee and being an Ashenden was a state of being that meant everything to them both. They could not imagine any other way of life.
Jane was a little put out by being corrected by Aunt Isobel.
Forever? Well … that is, provided Andrew and Barton marry some time, Miss Isobel.’ She was not quite cross, but nearly so. ‘Time is getting on, you know. If they don’t hurry up they’ll miss out on the right girls. If Sheila goes to Nana Bindi first—well, there’s Frank Carson over there. He’s still a bachelor. It would be just like him to …’
‘Nonsense,’ Aunt Isobel said shortly. Jeckie thought it might be tactful to start carrying the dishes to the kitchen. She had only reached the door when she heard Jane’s next remark.
‘But don’t you see, Miss Isobel? If Sheila goes to stay at Nana Bindi first, the Carsons will think she perhaps prefers Frank’s company. Besides, they are the ones who took such a big shareholding in Westerly-Ann Mine—just because the mine had bought our mountain. Then there’s Frank … He could — ‘
Aunt Isobel had risen from her chair and was standing very erect, looking quite magisterial.
‘Nonsense,’ she said again, firmly. ‘They took up shares in the mine because they meant to make money. Also they hoped the mine might want to extend on to their land. So they’ve already pegged claims on it themselves. The mine would have to buy their claims. At a very high price, no doubt. They could make a lot of money. No, Jane dear. In my lifetime I’ve always found that he who has the last word calls the tune. If Sheila comes here last, we at least have her here. Ashenden blood will tell in the end. We’ll see that Sheila is extra happy with us when she comes.’
Jeckie did not hear Jane’s reply to this mini-lecture from Aunt Isobel. Her hands were full of dishes, and she had let the wire door escape from her foot’s keeping. It clanged-to behind hex, making quite a clatter.
‘Dear dear, what a way to close a door!’ Aunt Isobel said.
‘I’m sorry, darling Aunt,’ Jeckie called back over her shoulder. ‘My foot slipped.’
‘Well, don’t let the dishes slip, my dear. The butter dish is a hundred years old. It simply must not be broken.’
‘Of course not.’
Jeckie hurried away kitchenwards.
An hour later Jane had so much family silver out from the back of the cupboards, sideboards and top shelves, on to the big veranda table, that Jeckie found herself staring at it in dismay.
‘Goodness! That will take us all day,’ she said.
‘Oh no, Jeckie. We have this Silver Foam. You just foam it on, then wipe it off. No rubbing. Then there’s the Silver Dip for the forks and spoons.’
‘Mother put all her silver away ages ago,’ Jeckie said. ‘There wasn’t heaps of it like this. We’ve gone all steel. Steel is beautiful, as well as easy.’
‘Yes, dear. But not antique, is it?’
guess when the first Ashendens bought all this silver they didn’t think of it as being antique then.’
Aunt Isobel had come from the passage again and bad heard this remark of Jeckie’s.
‘They are things of beauty, Jeckie, my dear. That’s why they were bought — or received as presents — in those days. A thing of beauty is a joy for ever. Keats, the poet, said that.’
`Yes, Aunt Isobel. Oh! Look at this darling pepper box standing on its little balled feet. And the milk and cream set. They are lovely; and the candlesticks! I remember Mother did have a pair like that. She said they were Victorian Sheffield.’
`You see? Things of beauty are already beginning to please you, Jeckie. Look at that pair of wine jugs with those beautiful curved handles. And this latticed pin-tray. See how the lattice is all entwined with rose-buds.’
‘Gorgeous!’ Jeckie said, beginning to feel awe.
`Then why the gloom, my dear?’
‘Because what is the good of it all when you keep it locked away in the dark? Things can’t shine in the back of cupboards, can they?’
‘Then be a good girl and help Jane to shine these pieces today. We’ll put the sideboard setting in their correct place in the dining-room while you are here. And, Jane dear, leave the coffee spoons out too. Also the fluted cream jugs. Jeckie is quite right. We must get in the habit of having some of our silver out ready for visitors, before they arrive.’
`And for members of the family too,’ Jane was busily setting aside some of the silver in a special place at the end of the table.
`Jeckie is not really a visitor, is she? She’s like Sheila —a member of the family. What shall we leave out specially for Sheila? Would it be too much if we had that rather elaborate centrepiece? Look at the figurines on the sides, Jeckie.’
`I’m looking,’ said Jeckie. ‘It’s fabulous. Every time I see it in the dining-room I’ll think of Sheila.’
Jane laughed. ‘Perhaps if we tell Andrew we’re putting it out for Sheila — ‘ she began.
‘Shush, Jane dear!’ Aunt Isobel said severely, even more straight-backed. ‘I’m sure Andrew has his own dignity about private, personal matters.’
She swept rather than walked along the veranda and in through the side door.
‘Oh dear! I did make a gaffe that time!’ Jane said, pretending embarrassment but not quite able to hide a small smile. ‘Deep in her heart, Miss Isobel is not really angry, you know. She does so hope something will come off between Andrew and Sheila. But you must keep that as a secret — ‘
`Is Andrew very much besotted?’ Jeckie asked. She drew the polishing cloths towards her.
`Besotted? What a strange word!’
`I mean … does he make sounds like being very much in love?’
`What funny expressions you do have, Jeckie. Here, let me take this tray load on my side of the table. You can begin on the centrepiece. Give it an extra special shine, won’t you, dear?’
`If I do give it an extra shine it will be because it is what Aunt Isobel called “a thing of beauty”,’ Jeckie said firmly. ‘And not because of Sheila.’
`But you must like Sheila — ‘ Jane began with a puzzled crease between her brows. ‘You’ve met often, haven’t you?’
`I like her all right . . Jeckie said, but added under her breath, ‘At a distance’. Then aloud — ‘But I don’t love her. There is a difference. I was only wondering if Andrew’s attention was because he liked her. Or because he was in love with her.’
Jane was busily counting Georgian spoons so did not look up.
`Well, we don’t quite know,’ she said at length. ‘I mean Miss Isobel doesn’t quite know. We just do a little guessing ..
‘Do you think — ‘ Jeckie began very carefully, her eyes and hands concentrating on one of the candlesticks. `Do you think it is because Sheila is Sheila … or is it because one day Sheila will probably own a share in Mallibee?’
Jane looked up, startled. ‘My dear, what a way to think! You are a funny girl, Jeckie. You say the strangest things.’
`But it wouldn’t be a strange thing for the last shares in Mallibee to be safely in the keeping of the family, would it? I mean, look at this old silver! It wouldn’t be nearly as beautiful if it went off to the sea — the way Mallibee Mountain is going to the sea. It would be lost to Mallibee. Wouldn’t it?’
Jane’s light, anxious eyes were searching Jeckie’s face. Jeckie, for her part, dabbed Silver Foam from here and there over the sides of the centrepiece.
‘How was it exactly that Mallibee Mountain was sold to the mine?’ she went on. The tip of her tongue peeped mischievously out of the corner of her mouth. Her brow was furrowed with concentration as she watched her hands at work on the lovely silver ornament.
There was quite a long pause as Jane tried to puzzle out what was really going on in Jeckie’s mind. Then her expression eased. Jeckie, she thought, was only asking questions and sa
ying things about Mallibee shares, and then about Mallibee Mountain, out of innocence. She would have no idea of Jane’s own personal sorrow, nor of the deep distress such topics caused in the quiet corners of Mallibee homestead.
For the sake of the family Andrew must marry some time. And Barton too, of course. There had to be another generation of real Ashendens. Only Jane herself knew how poor Miss Isobel worried and worried about these things. The fate of the mountain was a cautionary tale for the family’s future. If Andrew and Barton didn’t marry and have sons — well, at least one son, but two for safety —then who knows? The whole station might go the way the mountain was going. It could be carved up amongst all sorts of cousins, and worse — outsiders.
Jane shuddered at the thought. Besides, she had other sad, personal feelings about the loss of the mountain. She too … Oh well! That was old history now!
`We really must make Sheila welcome and happy when she comes,’ she said aloud, absently. ‘Oh, did you ask how the mountain was sold, Jeckie? Well, you see Andrew’s father — that was Andrew the Second — did carve a piece off Mallibee for his sister … just to be fair and to keep her happy, you know. Then she married and years later her son sold it. Wasn’t that a terrible thing to do?’
`But why did he sell it?’
`It must have been for money. He said the mountain was of more value to the people of the State than to one family. He had to make an excuse, didn’t he? It’s mostly solid haematite iron ore, though we didn’t know that before. The richest iron ore deposit in the world, they
say. That’s what gives the whole range that beautiful red colour. And why it has the mesa tops. It has a solid core of iron running right down deep into the earth. There’s millions of tons of iron there, they say.’ Jane paused. Her face was soft with a sort-of mixed up love and pity. ‘The mountain used to look so lovely against the sunset,’ she went on. ‘Below it on the Mallibee side was a lovely shallow valley. It was always green because of the water seepage down between the cracks of denuded rock. Andrew was going to run a new breed of cattle out there — the Santa Gertrudis. And Brahmins in the future when we’d put in the seed sorghum. He had a special overseer who knew all about those breeds of cattle—’ she broke off again. Then added in a lower voice, ‘He, too, had to leave Mallibee. You see there was nowhere else where those breeds of cattle could thrive up here. It was to be an experiment ..
‘You love that mountain, don’t you, Jane?’ Jeckie asked, sorry she had been so tactless. There had been almost a catch in Jane’s voice as she spoke, Jeckie thought. Such love and such loyalty to a people and a place not really her own was rather wonderful.
`I’ll tell you what, Jane dear,’ Jeckie went on brightly, meaning to be funmaking. `So as not to break your heart I’ll marry Andrew if Sheila turns him down. How’s that for keeping Mallibee intact for sure?’
Jane was startled. Also a little shocked. ‘My dear!’ she said warningly. ‘You mustn’t joke about things like that near Miss Isobel. For her the sun, moon and stars shine on Andrew.’ It would have to be Andrew who decided who he married. Miss Isobel would never have him captured by a girl. By any girl. He would have to be master of any situation.’
Jeckie’s face fell. ‘I was only joking,’ she said. ‘Just to lighten the mood a little. It was rather a flat joke, wasn’t it ?Mallibee-worship oughtn’t to be a sad thing.’
There was quite a silence. Then Jane said almost abruptly, ‘You mustn’t hurt Barton’s feelings, Jeckie. He was your first friend here. He likes you very much, you know. I can tell — ‘
It was Jeckie’s turn to be startled. She didn’t smile and she no longer felt like cracking funnies, whether they fell
flat or not.
So that really was what they were all up to? Now she knew for sure. It wasn’t just imagination on her part. Andrew to marry Sheila and Barton to marry Jeckie. Hurray for Mallibee! It would be all tucked up tight and sound for yet another generation!
‘I ought to have come here first,’ she said aloud regretfully. `I mean me first and Sheila next. Then you would all have got to know me well — as well as you all know Sheila. And like her.’
`Jeckie, darling. We’ve known Sheila that much longer, of course. That’s all there is to it. We were all just as excited about your coming as we now are about Sheila making another visit. Oh dear! If only she would come straight here instead of going to Nana Bindi first. That’s such a worry! Though of course Miss Isobel’s judgment is always very sound.’
‘I’m sure it is,’ Jeckie said, to mollify Jane. She hadn’t meant to hurt her. Jane’s face had seemed so sad, even bleak, as she had spoken of the green pasture valley, and the cattle experiment that wasn’t to be. And of the cattle expert who’d had to go away.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Nearly every day, generally early in the afternoon, Jeckie had the opportunity to go riding. Mostly she went with Barton. That was whenever he had an hour to spare, or needed to go specially to some section of the home run. He brought in a mount and saddled-up for her. Often they rode as far as the creek at the bottom of the home paddock. Sometimes they went out towards an old copper mine that had once belonged to the family but which was now defunct. In spite of the heat, this was the hour Jeckie most loved. The distance, the emptiness, the horizons that could never be reached, filled her with a kind of wonder and awe.
At home she rode the hacks who no longer served an
active purpose on the farm. She had always longed for a really good horse.
‘Blood stock, of course!’ she told Barton, laughing.
‘Our lot come from blood stock. Needless to tell you that, Jeckie,’ Barton said. ‘There’s good Arab blood there. They’re good stock horses too. Tough in the tough country. What with much of the sheep mustering done by motor cycle and aeroplane, we don’t need so many horses these days. It’s different up in the hills with the cattle. There we use the real bronchos. Sixteen handers, some of them. They’re paddocked out at the outcamps.’
‘I’d like to go out to the cattle camp. May I come sometime, Barton?’
‘If Andrew says so — why not?’
‘If Andrew says so! Does everyone have to ask Andrew for everything?’ Jeckie asked, half puzzled, half exasperated. ‘You have an equal share in Mallibee with Andrew, Bart. Why can’t you make a very unimportant decision like that?’
‘Andrew’s the manager. That’s why.’
‘You’re brothers and he’s the elder. I suppose that’s the reason why.’
‘Partly. When it comes to appointing a manager it’s a case of votes from the family, Jeckie. Andrew has Aunt Isobel’s vote. That puts him one ahead of me in any case.’ He glanced sideways at Jeckie. She might be used to riding well-behaved hacks but she had a nice seat. Someone must have known what he was doing when he taught her to ride. Still, managing a stock horse was something different. He might ask Andrew about it, but he guessed in advance Andrew would say ‘No’. A stock horse trained for cattle in the outback had its own laws. And generally a mouth of iron.
‘You know what, Jeckie?’ he said with a mischievous grin. His handsome dark eyes had their teasing light in them again.
‘No. You tell me what,’ she said looking straight ahead.
‘Your mother’s share carries a vote. If she voted for me instead of Andrew, that would play bobsy-die with the management, wouldn’t it?’
‘You mean you would be co-manager with Andrew, since he has Aunt Isobel’s vote as well as his own two votes?’
`Exactly.’
‘I don’t think my mother worries about her vote. From the little I know, she is quite happy with the management. One thing I am certain about — she likes her annual cheque when it comes in. She thinks Andrew’s management is good.’
‘In that case, we can’t break up the family muster, can we? Not till you do a spot of inheriting, anyway.’
‘You’re not wishing my mother dead, by any chance?’
‘Certainly not. But she could alw
ays give her share to you as a wedding present. You should begin educating her as from now.’
The mischievous light in Barton’s eyes had brightened. Jeckie found it a trouble to know when Barton was teasing and when he was not. She gave him a dignified but scornful glance, just to let him know that, if he was teasing, she herself could think of better subjects about which to use his particular brand of non-wit.
Barton laughed. ‘Put your prickles back in place, Jeckie. How about marrying me? That might even up the votes. Better still, it could be fun — for you and me, hey?’
‘Which do you think is most important?’ Jeckie asked coldly. ‘Evening up the votes or having fun?’
‘Marrying you — whatever the benefits, chick I See that towering ant hill over to the right? I’ll give you a stopwatch start of one second. Ready? GO!’
Jeckie was all smiles that night at dinner. Even Andrew looked at her a shade longer than usual.
‘Oh, Jeckie! You do have a pretty dress on tonight,’ Jane said. ‘You look all sunshine and happiness! Has something special happened today?’
‘Perhaps she’s had an extra happy time today!’ Aunt Isobel remarked as she served the vegetables on to Jeckie’s plate. ‘Was it a specially good day, dear?’
‘Yes, in one way,’ Jeckie admitted smiling. ‘I beat Barton to the king ant hill. You know the one that towers over the other ant hills in the top paddock.’
Barton pretended to look crushed. Jane, who was sitting next to him, patted his hand.
‘Dear Bart! ‘ she said. ‘I do hope you didn’t mind.’
‘I would have minded like hell except for the fact it
was Jeckie who beat me.’ The wicked look was in his eyes again. ‘How come it makes you such a glad-girl, Jeckie. Haven’t you ever won a race before?’
‘Not against such an experienced rider, Bart. Actually, I was excited because now we won’t have any more talk about my not being able to manage a stock horse, will we?’
