Jewel In the North

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Jewel In the North Page 49

by Tricia Stringer

“Mr Becker has come to talk to us, Charles.” She smiled back at their visitor. “Would you care to sit, Mr Becker?”

  “I won’t be here long.”

  Edith was taken aback by his sharp tone.

  “How is your son, Mr Becker?” Charles came forward. “My sister’s baby.”

  He peered down his nose at their visitor. Edith wished he wouldn’t do that. There was no need to get high-handed. They had to negotiate the child’s move to their home calmly. Convince Johannes it was the right thing to do.

  “My son is very well. Unfortunately, my wife is dead. I must have missed your letter of condolence.”

  Edith gasped.

  Charles puffed out his chest. “Now look, Becker.”

  “Don’t bother to get yourself worked up, Charles. We wouldn’t want you popping your braces. I have simply come to deliver this.”

  Edith’s eyes opened wide as he drew an envelope from his pocket. Some kind of legal handover of the child, perhaps. She wanted to snatch it from his hand but she let Charles take it.

  She watched his face eagerly as he read.

  “What the devil?”

  “What is it, Charles?”

  Becker turned to Edith. His gaze was steady and cold. “It is your eviction papers, Mrs Wiltshire. It seems this house belonged to my wife. Bequeathed by her father.”

  Edith felt her throat tighten. She put a hand to her neck.

  “As I was her husband it is now mine. And I have sold it.”

  “You’ve what?” Charles roared and lunged at Becker but the younger man side-stepped easily.

  “You have two weeks to pack your belongings and move out. If you don’t, I have arranged with the constable to remove you.”

  “You impudent—”

  Becker put a hand in front of Charles’s face. Edith watched as his lips turned up in a smile. It was a chilling smile that made her shudder.

  “We have nowhere to go, Mr Becker.” Edith hoped she had put on her saddest look. “Surely you wouldn’t evict us. We’re Laura’s family.”

  “Well then perhaps you’d like to move to our cottage. I shall be returning to South Africa soon and I am sure the farmer who I rent it from would be happy for new tenants.” He pushed the hat he’d been holding back onto his head. “Good day to you both.”

  The front door banged as he left and Emma began to cry.

  “Charles.” She looked to her husband, who had slumped to a chair. “What are we going to do?”

  He looked up at her, crestfallen as a child who has lost a toy. “I suppose I shall have to contact Grandmother.”

  Georgina closed the door on the sleeping baby as her mother opened the front door to a visitor. Her heart gave an extra thump as she heard Johannes’s voice. She had last seen him over two weeks earlier, when he had said he would return with a decision. She wished William were there with her. It had seemed so easy to agree to taking care of the baby to give Johannes time to recover from his grief and decide what he should do. Having his baby in her arms had someway eased the grief of the loss of her own but now she knew she would be devastated all over again if Johannes took his son.

  “Hello, Georgina.” He took off his hat as he stepped through the door and pulled a bunch of flowers from behind his back. “I’ve brought these for you lovely ladies.”

  “Oh, you are such a gentleman.” Johanna smiled and took the flowers. “I’ll find a vase for them. You two sit and I will bring some tea.”

  “Not for me thank you, Mrs Prosser. I can’t stay long. But I will sit for a moment.”

  Georgina felt her heart quicken as her mother left her with Johannes and they both sat.

  “Wherever did you get the flowers?” she asked, wanting to defer whatever he had come to say.

  He smiled. It was so good to see after all the sorrow. “The lady who runs the boarding house. She always has something in her garden.”

  “Do you want to see the baby?” Georgina was halfway from her chair but he waved her to sit.

  “Not yet. I want to talk with you first.”

  Georgina’s heart was thumping so loudly she was sure he would be able to hear it.

  He took a deep breath. “I have decided to return to South Africa.”

  She took a calming breath of her own. She had hoped that if he took the baby it would be somewhere local so she would at least still be able to see him. “I see.”

  “I have thought this over and over. Laura was my angel. I have been trying to think what she would want.”

  “She would want you to raise your child.” Georgina knew she was right.

  “But whenever I look at the baby—”

  “Your son.”

  Johannes face drooped. “I find it hard to see him as anything more than the instrument of his mother’s death.”

  She gasped.

  “I’m not the man you think I am, Georgina.”

  She was puzzled by his words.

  “My parents are ageing. My older brother has moved to India with his family.” Johannes sat on the edge of his chair, moving his hat around and around in his hands. “I don’t think I can give this child the love and the upbringing he deserves, not without … without Laura. I would be both honoured and grateful if you and William would adopt him.”

  “Johannes.” Georgina’s heart was thundering in her chest now. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “As long as you both want the same.”

  “Oh, yes we do. He cannot replace the son we’ve lost, but you know he would be loved as our own nevertheless.”

  “I do. And that’s why I think this is the right decision.” Johannes got to his feet. “Can I see him now?”

  “Of course.” Georgina felt as if she floated across the floor to her bedroom where the baby slept.

  They stood on either side of the cradle. Johannes trailed one finger down the baby’s cheek. His little lips sucked in and out then he let out a long sigh.

  “He looks very content,” Johannes murmured.

  “He is a happy baby.” She drank in every feature of the child who was so different from her own. Every time she held him she couldn’t help but compare him to the boy she had carried herself. This baby had a round face and fine gingery hair rather than the narrower shape of her son’s face and his shock of black hair, but her dear son never took a breath and this little babe was healthy and strong. She raised her gaze to the man who was about to give up his son. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I am.”

  “Then what would you like us to name him? We can’t keep calling him Baby.”

  Johannes looked up. “You and William should name him. He is to be your son.”

  Georgina sucked in a breath. The pain of her loss never left her, but this baby needed her now. She and William had talked about what the baby should be called after Johannes first left him with them. Their own son had been named William. “Then we thought we would call him John after his father.”

  Johannes smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “I think Laura would have liked that too.”

  When Johannes called back two weeks later to say goodbye, William was with Georgina at her mother’s house. This time he felt able to hold the baby and take tea with them. It was strange looking into the eyes of his child. It was as if Laura were looking back at him.

  He passed the baby to William. “He has his mother’s grey eyes.”

  “I hope they don’t change,” Georgina said. “Babies’ eyes often do after a few months.”

  Johannes lifted the small bag he had brought with him. “I have some things I would like to give you for John.”

  “Of course.”

  He reached in and drew out the locket. “Laura loved this locket. It has been in her family for generations. I think it should stay here with John. I hope one day he will find a wife to love and he will give it to her.”

  “Oh that’s so sweet, Johannes.” Georgina took the locket from his hand and he saw tears brim in her eyes.

  Next he drew out
the bank passbook. “I have opened an account in the name of John Baker. There is only a small amount of money in it.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” William said. “We will make sure he has all that he needs.”

  “I know you will but there will be a large amount of money from Laura’s estate and I want John to have it. Perhaps when he’s older. You will know what is right.”

  “Very well,” William said.

  “Mr Reed will see that the money is deposited once the sale of the house is finalised.”

  “But weren’t you renting the cottage?”

  “Oh yes. This money will be from the sale of the Wiltshire house.”

  William and Georgina both gaped at him and he chuckled.

  “It turns out it was legally Laura’s house but my sweet angel never knew it. She lived with her brother as if a servant in what turns out is … was … her own home.”

  William frowned. “How on earth?”

  “After she died I found a letter in her pocket she had never opened. It was from a Flora Nixon.”

  “She used to be the Wiltshires’ housekeeper,” Georgina said.

  “I see. Well evidently she had only recently heard of Mr Henry Wiltshire’s death and she was concerned about Laura being in her brother’s care.”

  “Rightly so as it turned out,” William said.

  “Yes.” Johannes said. He felt a small stab of anger yet again over the Wiltshires’ treatment of Laura. “The letter said Mrs Nixon knew her father had wanted her to have the house and she hoped that was the case. She wished Laura well and gave the name of the solicitor Henry Wiltshire had used. I followed up on that and it seems Mrs Nixon was correct. The executor of Henry’s will was only too happy to help me, as he had obviously allowed himself to be duped by Charles into believing Laura had been aware of her inheritance. I found a buyer for the house immediately, then served the Wiltshires with their eviction notice.”

  “I’ll be damned,” William said.

  “Is that why they are selling their shop?” Georgina asked.

  “I assume it’s the only thing they have left,” William said.

  “Not even that from what Mother tells me,” Georgina said. “Mother heard—”

  “Gossip,” William cut in.

  “I think there’s truth in it,” Georgina said. “Evidently they owe the bank a considerable sum and many people are taking their custom to other Hawker shops.”

  “What the Wiltshires do is no concern of mine.” Johannes knew he was doing the right thing by his son, but the sight of him cuddled into William’s arms was beginning to weigh heavily. It was time for him to leave.

  Georgina gave him a hug and kissed his cheek. William shook his hand. Johannes smiled at the baby safely tucked into the chest of his new father.

  Georgina put her arm around her husband. “Thank you for this precious gift, Johannes.”

  He gave them what he hoped was a reassuring smile and hurried from the sight of the happy family before he changed his mind.

  Sixty

  December 1914

  Christmas day at Wildu Creek was warm, but no-one complained. There were far too many of them even for Joseph and Millie’s big dining-room table so the men had rigged canvas between trees outside near the creek, which still had water in it from some late spring rains. An occasional puff of breeze helped keep the temperature down.

  Thomas sat at the head of the long trestle table, which groaned with the weight of abundant food. His weary bones felt better than they had in a long time. He was surrounded by happy voices and laughter, the squeals of children and the odd nicker of one of Eleanor’s horses. She had brought two with her for the children to ride.

  He looked up at the colourful bunting the women had strung under the canvas and around the trees. Hooked on branches were several lanterns ready to be lit at the end of the day. It was much fancier than the outdoor room he had made for Lizzie, but that part of the bank, the scene of many Baker celebrations, had been washed away in the big storm. Trees, rocks, soil and even the last of the old chairs he had made were lost as Wildu Creek had swollen and roared its way down from the hills to the plains below. He could count on one hand the number of times he had witnessed it flowing with such ferocity.

  A touch on his arm made him look back at the table, where everyone was turned in his direction.

  “We’re ready for grace, Grandpa.” It was William who had interrupted his reverie. Georgina sat beside her husband and gave Thomas an encouraging smile. From the other end of the table Joseph did the same.

  Thomas knew they had much to be thankful for. The seasons of the last few years had been bountiful, William and Georgina had a new baby and Robert a new wife. Beth had recently been visited several times by a farmer from Cradock way. There would no doubt be another wedding to celebrate soon. Thomas had a wonderful family and good friends, a solid roof over his head and food to eat. How his dear sweet Lizzie would have loved this.

  “Grandpa?” William’s gentle call brought him back to the present again.

  All eyes around the table were still watching him expectantly. Thomas cleared his throat and kept the grace short, after which there was an immediate eruption of voices again.

  “You must be so proud of your family.”

  He turned to Johanna Prosser, who sat on his other side.

  “I am, Johanna. And pleased that you are here with us as well.” He smiled at the woman whose husband had been a thorn in their side for so many years. One could never tell how things would work out. “The new baby is a fine young chap.”

  “He’s a darling,” Johanna said. “And so strong. He’s trying to walk on his chubby little legs. At least he’s sleeping now so we can eat our luncheon without worrying he will drop off that bank into the creek.” She chuckled and passed Thomas the platter of meat.

  He put a sparse amount on his plate. His appetite was small these days in spite of all the different foods Millie tried to tempt him with. He did, however, take a larger serve of the jellied mint peas. He was rather partial to them.

  William took another sip of the punch. “This is good.”

  Georgina raised her eyebrows. “You don’t want to know all the things Millie put in it.”

  “I see the new people have totally renovated the Wiltshires’ old shop,” Robert said.

  “Did you go in there?” William said.

  “Why not? They don’t own it any more.”

  “Did anyone hear what happened to them?” Clem asked.

  “They’ve gone to live in Adelaide with Charles’s grandmother,” Georgina said.

  Joseph shook his head. “He still lands on his feet, that man.”

  “I’m not so sure. I visited Harriet’s shop years ago, when Henry was still alive,” Johanna said. “It was a rather old-fashioned place with a little house out the back. I’ve no idea how they would all live there.”

  “She still has money,” Joseph snorted. “He won’t be living in poverty like he and his family have made others do.”

  “I don’t think they’ll be leading a charmed existence,” Johanna said. “Apart from their small quarters he’s nearly bled his grandmother dry over the years. Her business was in decline. It really relied on her and she’s in failing health.”

  “I think we’re finally rid of the Wiltshires after all these years,” Joseph said.

  William glanced at Georgina, who was looking at her mother. The formal adoption had been finalised, and John was now John Baker, not Becker. He hoped over time people would forget the baby’s mother had been a Wiltshire.

  “What do you say we purchase another windmill this year, Father?” It was time to change the subject.

  “Do you think Father’s all right?” Joseph murmured in Millie’s ear.

  His wife glanced down the table to where Thomas sat back in his chair, the food on his plate barely touched. “I’m sure he’s fine. He loves days like this when we are all together, but he gets tired. He’ll probably go off and lie d
own in a while.”

  Joseph leaned across and kissed his wife’s cheek. “I’m so grateful I have you, my love.”

  Millie smiled. The creases around her dark brown eyes were deeper, but he was relieved to see her old sparkle had gradually returned as the years had gone by and their children had grown safely in her care.

  “And yet you still keep that diamond as your good-luck charm.”

  Joseph patted his pockets in a grand gesture. “No I don’t.”

  Millie raised her eyebrows.

  “It’s back in the earth.”

  “Really?”

  Joseph grinned. “Well, in a box in the cellar. I don’t need it any more. I really am very lucky without it.”

  Millie reached across and hugged him.

  “Enough of that,” Matthew said.

  Joseph looked to his other side where Beth, Ruth and Matthew were all watching them.

  “Matthew,” Ruth chided her brother. “I think they’re sweet.”

  Joseph looked at his wife in horror. “We’re sweet?”

  Millie laughed. It was a wondrous sound.

  “Anyway, Matthew,” Ruth grinned, “where’s that young lady you were swinging around the shearing shed at the last cut-out dance?”

  “Don’t tease him, Ruth,” Beth said.

  “Pass him some more potato,” Millie said. “Eat up everyone; we don’t want leftovers.”

  There were groans from some and murmurs of delight from others.

  “How do you think Alice is coping with her first Baker Christmas?” Joseph murmured in Millie’s ear. Down the table his son looked like a giant beside his short wife.

  “She’s so shy she hardly leaves Robert’s side, but I’m sure she’ll get used to us.”

  “Robert is talking of enlisting,” Joseph said.

  “Surely not.” Millie turned a worried look on her stepson. “The war is between Great Britain and Germany. It has nothing to do with us.”

  “I am too,” Matthew said.

  Joseph felt a chill go through him at his son’s words. Along the table Jessie looked fearfully at Clem.

  “No, Matthew,” Beth gasped. “Tell him he can’t, Father.”

  “Matthew can’t what?” William asked from down the table.

 

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