by Mary Arrigan
So that was why Grandpa would never take me with him on those market days! To think that he had a life outside the family!
‘Your grandfather built a scalpeen near the cottage where he lives with your mother. A scalpeen is a hole in the ground, covered with earth and rushes…’
‘I know what it is, Mr Egan,’ I said.
‘Yes, I suppose you do,’ he replied. ‘It is well disguised and John Joe is quite safe there – for now.’
‘For now?’ I put in.
Mr Egan nodded. ‘Once they begin to clear the land, it won’t be long before he’s discovered. There is no place to hide in the open country, Esther.’
‘Isn’t there anywhere he can go?’ I asked.
‘America,’ Mr Egan said. ‘Your mother and grandfather have agreed that they will take him to America as part of the family.’
‘What?’
‘Once they have the passage fare and the papers from Lord Craythorn, it will be possible to slip past the authorities,’ Mr Egan said. ‘So, Esther, you’ll have John Joe with you when you leave this land. Come to me tomorrow after your duties with Madam and Miss Emma. I will have your wages for you. But I’m sure I don’t have to tell you the consequences for all of us, particularly your grandfather, if you disclose any of this conversation.’
‘But what about Mrs Burgess?’ I asked. ‘Won’t she wonder…?’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Mr Egan, getting up from his chair. ‘I’ll explain that family matters have taken you away. Now, go and have supper. Act as normal, Esther. It is nobody else’s business, what we have discussed here.’
Chapter Twelve
It was difficult to act normally as I sat in my place at table. Part of me was filled with excitement, and another part was terrified. But my most pleasing thought was that I was going to be with Mama and Grandpa again.
Betty and Rose looked at me with open curiosity.
‘Well,’ said Betty. ‘Are you sacked, or what?’
‘Shut up, Betty,’ said Rose. ‘None of your business.’
‘It’s all right, Rose,’ I said with a laugh. ‘Mr Egan simply wanted to tell me that I’ve been such an excellent servant, he’s putting me in charge of the scullery maids. In future I’ll be making the decisions about your duties.’
Rose smiled. Betty, to my eternal gratification, looked cowed.
Later, when we retired to our room, I could see that May was dying to hear about my visit to Mr Egan. I could scarcely contain my excitement as we settled under the quilt for our usual chat. May oohed and aahed as I told her everything – until I came to the part where I said that John Joe would be sailing with us. Even in the candlelight I could see that her face had turned white.
‘He’s going away?’ she said. ‘He’s leaving the country? Oh, Esty…’
‘Hush,’ I said. ‘I have a plan, May. Take that horrified look off your face and listen to me. My mother and grandfather are naming him as part of our family. I expect they’ll say he’s a nephew or something. The shipping people don’t care, as long as they get their money. There’s nothing to stop you coming too. You can be … you can be my sister. Will you come? Please say that you’ll come.’
May stared at me, as if she couldn’t believe what I was saying.
‘It’s a chance that will never come our way again, May,’ I said. ‘Just think, a new world full of opportunity for people like us! Please come. I know we can take you. If Grandpa says that we can slip John Joe in, then we can surely include you.’
May looked at her hands, as though seeking an answer there. Finally she looked up, a determined expression of her face.
‘I’ll do it, Esty,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll go with you. Apart from an aunt in Kerry, I have no family here. So, yes, I’m coming.’
We hugged one another with excitement, barely suppressing our delighted squeals.
‘When?’ she said then. ‘When do we leave?’
‘Well,’ I began. ‘Tomorrow night. We need to go to my family as soon as possible, to get things sorted before we leave.’
‘Tomorrow night?’ exclaimed May. ‘I can’t leave…’
‘Shush,’ I said. ‘I’m leaving after tomorrow evening.’
‘But what will I tell the mistress? She will be annoyed…’
‘May!’ I said, shaking her arm. ‘We’re about to change our lives! Will she lie down and die because you won’t be around the next morning to dress her and brush her hair? I think not!’
May’s eyes opened wide, then she smiled. ‘You’re right, Esty,’ she said. ‘Oh, my goodness! I can scarcely believe it. I’m going to America and I’m going to be with John Joe. I want to pack my bag right now. And my money,’ she added, pushing me off her bed and thrusting her hand under the mattress. ‘See?’ holding up a linen bag. ‘I’ve been saving for nearly two years.’
‘You have money?’ I said. ‘Oh, May. That’s good. In fact it’s better than good.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked May.
‘Don’t you see?’ I said. ‘Lord Craythorn is offering us money for assisted passage to America. But if we add your money and mine to his money, we might be able to afford to go to Australia instead! Australia, May!’
‘Australia,’ murmured May in disbelief. ‘We’re going to Australia. America or Australia, it’s all the same to me. I have no idea where they are, and I don’t much care. I’m just happy to be getting away from here – and seeing John Joe again.’
It was hard to suppress our excitement as we went about our duties next day. Now and then we’d catch one another’s glance, and smile. And once or twice I’d have a feeling of panic. Was I doing the right thing, taking May from the life she was used to and travelling across the world? But then, I’d console myself, the alternative was for her to stay here and languish as a lady’s maid for the rest of her life.
After supper, I followed Mrs Casey into the larder where she was checking tomorrow’s meals. As I closed the door, she looked around with surprise.
‘Why, Esty,’ she said. ‘What’s keeping you in the kitchen at this hour, alannah?’
‘Mrs Casey,’ I began. ‘I’ve come to say goodbye.’
‘What!’ She dropped the plate she was holding. I bent down to help her pick up the pieces, and told her all. She sat back on the floor and looked at me in dismay.
‘Australia?’ she said. ‘You’re going to Australia?’
‘I’m going to make Lord Craythorn listen to me,’ I said. ‘There’s enough money to add to whatever he’s putting up. He owes it to us – Mama, Grandpa and me – because my papa was such a good middleman. I’m going to insist on seeing him and putting our case to him.’
‘But Australia,’ went on Mrs Casey, getting up and wrapping the broken plate fragments in a cloth. ‘It’s so far away, Esty.’
‘I know that, Mrs Casey. But I’ve been reading all about it. It’s where the future is. I have a feeling about Australia.’
Mrs Casey was shaking her head. ‘I can understand, alannah,’ she said. ‘You want to be with your mother and grandfather. But we’ll all miss you so much.’
‘Now don’t go making me cry, Mrs Casey,’ I said. ‘I hate leaving you. You’ve been like a mother to me since I came here as a scared mouse with John Joe.’
At the mention of John Joe’s name, Mrs Casey threw up her hands. ‘That boy,’ she said. ‘I’ve been worrying day and night about him.’
‘He’s all right,’ I said. ‘He’s safe.’
Mrs Casey looked at me questioningly. ‘What are you saying, alannah?’
‘Just … just trust me, Mrs Casey. John Joe is safe.’ I couldn’t tell her any more.
‘All right,’ said Mrs Casey. ‘I won’t ask questions. But … you be very careful, Esty. All right?’
I nodded. ‘I’ll be leaving tonight,’ I said. ‘May is coming too.’
‘What!’ Luckily she wasn’t holding anything in her hands now. ‘May too?’ Then she gave me a knowing look, and nodded. She’d gu
essed. ‘God speed to all of you,’ she whispered.
‘Best to go now,’ I replied. ‘There are things to do at home. The land clearance will be taking place soon, and our passage has to be arranged.’
‘Oh, Esty,’ she said, putting her great arms around me and smothering me in a hug. ‘I’ll miss you.’
‘I’ll write, Mrs Casey,’ I said, trying to keep the emotion from my voice. ‘I promise I will write and tell you how wonderful the new world is. Mr Egan will read my letters to you.’
She chuckled, and then set about packing food into a bag and pushing the parcel into my hands. ‘Nobody will miss a few hardboiled eggs and slices of lamb. And here, what about some of my special biscuits? You won’t find the likes of them in that Australia.’
I gave her one last hug and, biting my lips to fight back tears, headed through the kitchen towards the staff stairs. Rose and Betty were at the sink. I wished I could say something, but what would be the point? Tomorrow they would wonder for a while about our absence, and then get on with their jobs
I collected my wages from Mr Egan. He gave me a note for Grandpa and wished me good luck.
‘Wait until the house is quiet, Esty,’ he said. ‘Then slip down the back stairs.’
At first, when I told him that May was coming, he’d been anxious.
‘I’ll never be able to explain that to the Master and Mistress,’ he said. ‘Maybe we’ll just leave them guessing that she’s gone to family somewhere. I’m sorry I can’t arrange transport for you, but, with John Joe gone, I don’t have a groom I can trust.’
‘It’s all right, Mr Egan,’ I said. ‘I think we can walk five miles. After all, that’s nothing compared to the thousands of miles we’re going to travel soon.’
He nodded and held the door open for me.
‘Good luck, Esty,’ he said.
May was waiting, her outdoor clothes on and her bag packed. We waited until the house was quiet. Then, with a last look around the room that had become our friendly refuge, we slipped down the back stairs.
PART TWO
Australia, 1852-1856
Chapter Thirteen
‘You folks know what you’re doing?’ The shopkeeper looked at Grandpa with some concern as he totted up the bill. The shop was one of many in the harbour advertising supplies for the teeming crowds of gold-diggers who, like ourselves, had arrived from all over the world to search for a better life.
Grandpa just smiled as he marked off the list of items other speculators had told us to buy.
‘One pick, seven shillings,’ he murmured. ‘Two shovels, six shillings each. Two pairs of moleskin trousers, eighteen shillings. Blankets?’ He looked questioningly at the shopkeeper.
‘Normally one pound each,’ the shopkeeper said. Then he lowered his voice and leaned closer to Grandpa. ‘But for you, old timer, nineteen shillings each.’
Grandpa nodded gratefully and began to count out the money. I put my hand over his and looked the shopkeeper straight in the eye.
‘Seventeen,’ I said. ‘Make it seventeen shillings each, and you have a deal.’
The man looked at me with a frown.
‘Go on, Mister,’ I went on. ‘You’re making a fortune out of the gold-diggers. Most of them are simply asking for enough for two, maybe three people. We’re buying for a whole family. You can afford a better discount. We’ll be knee-deep in muck while you’ll still be here making money.’ I smiled the smile I’d been using ever since my meeting with Lord Craythorn, and thanked God for my good teeth.
‘You drive a hard bargain, Missy,’ said the shopkeeper, reluctantly giving in.
For nearly two years I’d become well used to the business of bargaining. Most of our money had been spent in getting here, so we knew that we’d have to earn money to support ourselves, and save enough for whatever lay ahead of us in the goldfields.
Jobs had been easy to find. With his knowledge of reading and writing, Grandpa had got work in the Melbourne shipping office. John Joe had worked as a labourer, loading and unloading the many ships that came into the busy harbour. Mama, May and I had worked at the Harbour Hotel, serving meals and cleaning the bedrooms that teemed with passing prospectors – some returning to Melbourne now that they’d made their fortune. The tips we were given by successful gold-diggers cheered us up at the end of the long days.
Now, at long last, we had enough money to buy all we needed to go to a place called Ballarat. Grandpa had been told that the best gold diggings were to be found there.
‘I was beginning to think we’d never get this far,’ I said to Grandpa as we carried our goods to the horse and wagon that had already cost us a small fortune. ‘If I’d known that, as well as tossing about for months and months in a stinking old ship, we’d have to work for so long, I’d have stayed in Ireland waiting on the Burgess ladies.’
‘I doubt it, somehow, Esty Maher,’ Grandpa laughed. ‘We’re our own masters now. Those days are far behind us.’ Then he looked at me as I held the horse steady.
‘What, Grandpa?’ I said. ‘Why do you look at me like that?’
He smiled and shook his head. ‘You’ve suddenly become a feisty young woman, Esty.’
‘Grandpa,’ I replied. ‘That little girl I used to be is a distant memory. If Mama hadn’t sent me off to the Burgess’s house, I’d still be a petulant young madam.’
‘I know,’ began Grandpa as he began to load up. ‘But I will never forget your white face that morning when John Joe…’
‘Hush, Grandpa,’ I put in. ‘I don’t want to think of those days.’
‘Well, sometimes I think of those days,’ began Grandpa, before tapering off into silence.
So much had happened since the night that May and I had softly closed the back door of the Burgess house and traipsed the five miles home. John Joe and May had stayed hidden until we’d got our papers and assisted passage from Lord Craythorn. And then everything had become a blur of packing, and preparation for our journey to the far side of the world. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time.
One night, Mama had looked at John Joe with a strange, thoughtful expression (he would leave the scalpeen late at night).
‘What is it, Missus?’ John Joe asked, looking uncomfortable.
‘We’re going to have to hide you, John Joe,’ she said in a low voice. ‘If someone recognised you on our way to the ship in Liverpool, we’d all be ruined.’
‘I’ll cover up my face,’ said John Joe. ‘Like I had aching teeth or … or a disease, or something.’
Mama shook her head. ‘You’d still be male,’ muttered Mama. ‘It’s males who draw the attention of the authorities.’
John Joe looked perplexed. ‘There’s not much I can do about that, Missus.’
‘Yes there is,’ laughed Mama. ‘We’ll make you a girl.’
‘What!’ John Joe exploded. ‘Hold on there!’
‘You know, she’s right,’ put in Grandpa. ‘No one would bother an old man, a woman and three grand girls.’
May and I fell about, laughing at the prospect of John Joe in a dress and bonnet. The more we laughed, the more his stubborn face reddened. But we knew Mama was right.
The sun was just rising, the morning we left for Dublin to take the ship that would take us across the Irish Sea to Liverpool. There, we would board the bigger ship that would take us to Melbourne, Australia. None of us spoke as we passed along the familiar road for the last time. John Joe sat between May and me, wearing his bonnet and a grey dress of Mama’s.
It was May who eventually broke the silence when she began to giggle.
‘Why are you laughing, May?’ asked John Joe.
He got annoyed when May pointed to his bonnet and dress. That helped to disperse the cloud that had been hovering over our departure.
‘I hope you’ll remember not to take huge strides when you walk, John Joe,’ May said. ‘You look like a true country bumpkin. And do stop scratching your head through your bonnet.’
‘Don’t heed
her, John Joe,’ said Mama. ‘You look very…’ she burst out laughing again before uttering the word ‘pretty’.
Nobody stopped us on the road to Dublin – Grandpa had warned us to look straight ahead whenever we spotted troops.
We sold the horse and cart at the port, and boarded the ship to Liverpool. It was only then that we felt safe. However, Grandpa had insisted that John Joe keep on his disguise until we’d boarded the ship for Australia. There was only one tense moment, when Grandpa presented our papers and we were scrutinised for a few breath-held minutes. And then we were waved through.
‘We’re on our way,’ whispered Mama, as we crossed the gang-plank, leaving European soil for ever.
Our tiny cabin during the voyage consisted of four berths, two upper and two lower. Mama, May and I shared the upper berths, Grandpa and John Joe shared the lower. We had a barrel for water and a commode that always stank of urine and, too often, vomit, no matter how hard we scrubbed it. That and the strong, sweaty smell at night was enough to make us nauseous – not to mention the constant up-and-down motion of the ship. The atmosphere was made worse by the clutter of our belongings. There was scarcely room to move. And often, we couldn’t go up on deck for fresh air because of the squalls and storms. We were so glad to arrive, we’d have settled for any land anywhere in the world, just to be away from that ship after our hellish four-month journey!
And now, here we were at last, preparing for the biggest adventure of our lives. I’d never felt so full of life, so confident and grown-up, as I did shopping with Grandpa that morning.
‘When we strike it rich, we’ll come back and tell you,’ I said to the shopkeeper, as he helped us to load everything on to the wagon.
‘You folks be careful,’ he said. ‘The bush track to Ballarat is lined with thieves, bushrangers, convicts and sailors who’ve deserted. And when you do get there,’ he panted, as he heaved the rolled-up tent on top of the pile, ‘there’s choking dust in the summer and filth in the wet season. And taxes,’ he added. ‘You’ll be up against Her Majesty’s licensing laws…’
