Meet Nellie

by Penny Matthews

  Tom cleared his throat. ‘What happened to your mother and father?’

  ‘Mama died of the fever. That was when Dada said he couldn’t look after me any longer, and he asked Father Donnelly to put me in the workhouse. Poor Dada, I’ll never forget the way he looked.’

  ‘He died too?’

  Nellie nodded. ‘I never saw him again.’

  Tom said, ‘I haven’t seen my father for almost six months, and I miss him. We came to South Australia so he could work in the copper mine, but he and Mother decided we’d be better living in Adelaide for our schooling. Mother does quite well with the boarding house. Father comes down to be with us sometimes, but he only stays for a few days. I don’t know how you could bear to lose your whole family.’

  ‘That’s why I long to see my Mary, for she’s like a sister to me. It’s a fine thing to have a family. Even when they are so badly behaved as young William and Hetty.’

  ‘They are a pair, aren’t they?’ said Tom, laughing. ‘Mother says they’ll be the death of her. But you need your own family. We must find Mary for you.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Hush,’ said Tom. ‘I’m trying to think how.’

  Nellie sat very quietly, while Tom frowned at the spelling book as if it might tell him what he wanted to know. And after a while he said, ‘Edward Strout makes grocery deliveries. It’s likely he visits houses in East Terrace, and knows the servants who work there. He could ask about Mary.’

  ‘Yes!’ Nellie jumped up from her chair. ‘Tom, I could kiss you! Well, no, of course I couldn’t do that’ (she felt herself blushing furiously) ‘but you are cleverness itself!’

  ‘There’s a new nursemaid at the Lefroy residence, past Wakefield Street,’ said Edward, slurping tea. ‘I didn’t see her, but Annie Higgins, her what works in the kitchen with that old tyrant Bessie Rudge, she said the new girl is workhouse Irish, name of Mary.’

  ‘Did she say anything else?’ asked Nellie hopefully. ‘Did she describe her at all?’

  ‘Said she was sickly. Pale as a sheet.’

  ‘It sounds like my Mary. She’s never in the best of health. Oh, I must go and see her as soon as I can. If only I had an afternoon off before Sunday! What’s the house like? How shall I know I’m at the right place?’

  Edward put down his cup. ‘It’s a bloomin’ palace! Red brick, an iron fence up to your eyeballs, and a driveway a mile long. You’ll know it, easy, because there’s a pair of gateposts with lions on ’em.’

  ‘I remember that place. Mr Strout, I can’t tell you how thankful I am! How can I repay you?’

  ‘It wasn’t nothin’. Tell the truth, it gave me an excuse to talk to that Annie – she’s a right pretty piece. Could be she’s The One.’

  ‘You still deserve a reward. I’ll give you an extra piece of bacon for breakfast tomorrow, so I will.’

  It was only Wednesday evening. Sunday afternoon had never seemed so far away!

  ‘I THOUGHT I’d never see you again,’ said Mary, wiping away tears. ‘I didn’t know how I should ever find you. Oh, Nell, I’m so glad you’re here!’

  It was Sunday at last. Annie Higgins had greeted Nellie at the kitchen door of the East Terrace house, and had then run up to the nursery to tell Mary she had a visitor.

  ‘You have visitors,’ Nellie had said, when Mary came into the kitchen. ‘There are two of us.’ She pulled Vanessa from where she’d hidden her in her shawl, and Mary laughed with joy when she saw her precious doll. She flew back upstairs immediately to hide her from her mistress, Mrs Lefroy.

  The two friends were now sitting close together on a bench in the back garden. Mary, a baby in her arms, was keeping an eye on the older children, Charlotte and Louisa, who were chasing each other around the vegetable plots with much shrieking and giggling.

  ‘The little girls are quite self-willed,’ Mary said. ‘They are old enough to be schooled, and soon they’ll have a governess of their own. The mistress would never send them to a common school. The baby’ (she kissed his downy head) ‘is the sweetest thing, and no trouble at all. He is named Henry, after the Governor, Sir Henry Young, you know. The master and mistress are great friends of the Governor.’

  ‘My mistress’s family know him too,’ said Nellie. ‘Well, they don’t exactly know him, but they came out on the same ship.’

  ‘Is that so?’ asked Mary, looking impressed. She started to say more, but Nellie had little interest in the Governor.

  ‘Are you well, Mary?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m well enough. I get tired, sometimes, because I’m so busy.’

  ‘And the servants here? Tell me about them. How many people are there? It’s such a big place – it seems as big as the workhouse!’

  ‘It is very grand, isn’t it?’ said Mary proudly. ‘I always hoped to work in such a place, but I never thought I should.’ She rested the sleeping baby on her lap and counted on her fingers. ‘Let’s see. There’s me, and Trotty the maid, and Mrs Rudge the cook, and Annie who works in the kitchen. And there’s Mr Birch, who looks after the stable and the carriage, and does the gardening.’

  ‘Five servants, then. What are they like? Our Mr Strout has taken a great liking to your Annie. He says she might be The One.’

  ‘I think our Annie feels the same way about your Mr Strout,’ said Mary. ‘She likes his manners very well. And sure, she’d be happy for a way out of her job here, because Bessie Rudge would try the patience of a saint. She reminds me of Matron Hogget, with her bad temper and her red face.’

  ‘I hope she’s not ever cross with you, Mary.’

  ‘Not really. It’s poor Annie who has the worst of her. But what about you? Tell me about the place where you live.’

  ‘It’s called Thompson’s Boarding House,’ said Nellie, ‘and it’s in Rundle Street. Mrs Thompson is such a kind mistress! She treats me just as if I were her own daughter. There are three children and a baby who is older than Henry here. He’s almost walking. William and Hetty tease me very much, but their big brother, Tom, is my friend. He’s teaching me to read.’

  Mary looked at her, open-mouthed. ‘And can you read, now?’

  ‘Not quite,’ said Nellie with a laugh. ‘But I have been practising the alphabet, and I know all the letters by heart.’

  ‘I’m happy for you, Nell. I know it means a great deal to you, this reading.’

  ‘Indeed it does, Mary angel. It’s a big part of my fine new life.’

  They sat for a while in silence, watching Charlotte and Louisa pelt each other with freshly mown grass. Church bells sounded sweetly in the distance.

  ‘I can’t tell you how good it is to see you, Nellie,’ said Mary at last. ‘Just to hear another Irish voice is pure pleasure.’

  ‘Were there ever any other Irish girls here?’

  ‘Not one. Bessie Rudge has no time for the Irish. She told me so.’

  ‘Did she, indeed! Well then, I hope Annie quits her job and leaves her with no help at all, the creature!’

  ‘That would make her more bad-tempered than ever,’ said Mary, ‘and then we should all suffer for it.’ Little Henry woke and started to cry, and she stood up. ‘I must tend to him, Nell. The mistress doesn’t like to hear his noise. Shall I see you again?’

  ‘Of course. I’ll come to visit you as soon as can be. There’s to be a gathering in the parklands next week – we could meet there, couldn’t we? It’s for Guy Fawkes night.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but Tom says the English celebrate it on the fifth of November, and there will be a bonfire, and fireworks. You must come to visit me, too, when you have an afternoon off. When would that be?’

  ‘I don’t think I have an afternoon off,’ replied Mary. ‘At least, I haven’t had one yet. Perhaps I should ask.’

  ‘Indeed you should! Next you’ll be telling me you aren’t getting paid!’

  Mary looked down and said nothing.

  ‘Mary, tell me that isn’t true!’

  ‘Oh, I am
being paid, I’ve no doubt of it,’ Mary answered quickly.

  Nellie snorted. ‘Don’t you believe it! They’re like those devils the landlords, and I shall use that word, Mary, although I know you don’t care for it, for they are devils! People like that don’t care about the poor souls who work for them – they only want to keep their money under their own beds.’

  As soon as Mary had returned to the house, Nellie hurried back down the long driveway. She didn’t want to stay in this strange, grand, unfriendly place a moment longer than she had to. She began to run, and didn’t stop until she was past the lions at the front gate.

  ‘DO you know, angel, I believe that all my wishes have come true,’ said Nellie.

  ‘What wishes would they be, Nell?’ asked Mary. The girls had joined a large, excited crowd in the eastern parklands, and were waiting for the Guy Fawkes festivities to start. The bonfire, a huge pile of dead gum-tree branches, was all ready to be set alight. At the top of the pile Nellie could see the guy – a man made of straw, dressed in old clothes and a battered wideawake hat.

  ‘You remember, Mary! What we wished for that last night on the ship. First, I wanted never to be hungry again, and here, thank the Lord, there’s enough food to choke a horse. Next thing, I wanted to be myself, and I am, aren’t I? In this country it doesn’t matter where I’ve come from or what happened to me.’

  ‘You’re still Irish,’ said Mary gently. ‘And you’re still an orphan. Nothing changes that.’

  ‘But it doesn’t matter, don’t you see? Here you can be anything you want. Mr Carlisle in our boarding house says he’s royalty, and who’s to say if he is or not? I could be a princess.’

  ‘Maybe. But you aren’t, no more than I am.’

  ‘And any minute now I’ll be able to read.’

  ‘That’s true, and I’d not grudge you that for a moment.’

  ‘And now I’m truly part of a family, and that’s what I wished for most of all.’ She waved to Mrs Thompson, who was standing a short distance away, talking with friends. ‘Apart from you, they are the closest thing I have to my own people.’

  ‘But you work for them,’ protested Mary. ‘I’m sure they are very kind to you, but you’re still their servant.’

  ‘It doesn’t feel like that. I take my meals with them, and I scold the children when they are naughty, and I talk with Tom just as if he was my own brother. And Mrs Thompson has never shouted at me, not once. Do be happy for me, Mary! Everything is going so well in my life.’

  ‘Oh, Nell.’ Mary’s face was anxious. ‘You mustn’t say such things, for it always brings bad luck. My mama used to say that great joy is always followed by great sorrow. It makes me afraid for you.’

  Nellie didn’t reply, for suddenly fireworks exploded against the black sky. They were like huge brilliant flowers, pink and white and green. Roman candles soared upward with a deafening whoosh of golden sparks. Catherine wheels whirled and fizzed. Strings of crackers like little red soldiers made a sound like gunfire.

  Nellie and Mary held on to each other, wide-eyed. Neither of them had ever seen anything half so exciting!

  ‘Did you find out who this Guy Fawkes was?’ asked Mary. ‘Why do we have to burn him all up?’

  ‘Tom told me that he tried to blow up the English Parliament with barrels of gunpowder. It happened hundreds of years ago, but he is still being punished for it.’

  As she spoke, the bonfire burst into crackling flames, and soon the straw guy was ablaze. Children started to dance around the bonfire, Tom, Hetty and William among them.

  As they danced, they chanted:

  Please to remember the fifth of November

  Gunpowder treason and plot.

  I see no reason

  Why gunpowder treason

  Should ever be forgot!

  ‘Poor Guy,’ breathed Mary. ‘Surely they should let him rest in peace.’ But soon she was too caught up in the excitement to feel sorry for him. Nellie grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into the circle of dancers, and both girls skipped around until Mary started to cough. Some of the boys threw more fireworks into the flames. Although a circle of bare earth had been cleared around the bonfire, sparks occasionally leapt over it and had to be stamped out with much shouting. The guy fell apart in a glowing cloud of sparks, and the bonfire slowly burned to the ground.

  Soon it was all over, and people started to drift away. Nellie and Mary separated outside the Lefroys’ home, and Nellie went back to the boarding house with the Thompsons. William tried to let off a bunger under her skirt, but Tom ran after his little brother, caught him, and gave him a sharp tweak on the ear.

  Nellie walked in a daze, her head still filled with showers of stars. She told herself that she hadn’t felt so happy since that long-ago day at the Killarney fair. But Mary’s caution was like a tiny cloud on the horizon. Could it really be a bad thing that all her wishes had come true so soon?

  ‘The pictures don’t make sense,’ said Nellie sadly. ‘See, there’s the A, but the picture is of a monkey.’

  ‘Look at the word,’ Tom told her. ‘It’s just three letters, isn’t it? An a, and a p, and an e. If it said “monkey” it would be six letters. That’s twice as many letters,’ he added. ‘What does a-p-e spell? Sound it out.’

  Nellie said the letters under her breath, and then her face lit up. ‘It’s ape, isn’t it?’ she cried. ‘And that’s another name for monkey!’

  ‘And what does “ape” start with?’

  ‘A! It starts with A!’

  Nellie was having her second reading lesson. She had proudly recited the alphabet, putting her finger correctly on each letter, but working out the words wasn’t always as simple as she’d thought it would be.

  ‘See,’ said Tom. ‘Here’s the word “monkey”, on the next page. Monkey begins with M.’

  ‘Aren’t apes and monkeys the same thing?’

  ‘No, they aren’t. An ape looks like a monkey, but it isn’t one, not exactly. It doesn’t make any difference, though, because it’s the word that matters, not what you think the picture might be. What’s this?’ He pointed to the page.

  Nellie brightened. ‘It’s an N, of course. It’s N for Nellie!’

  ‘Yes, it’s N for Nellie, and what else?’

  Nellie stared at the picture. ‘It looks like a potato.’

  ‘How can it possibly be N for Potato? Potato starts with P. Look at the word and sound it out. N-u-t. Nut.’

  ‘It doesn’t look like a nut.’

  ‘It is a nut. N is for Nut.’ Tom sighed. ‘I don’t think you’ve quite got the idea of reading yet.’

  Nellie drooped her head into her hands. ‘It’s so difficult. I thought it would be easy.’

  Edward Strout had come into the kitchen and was watching the lesson with amusement. Now he pulled out a chair, and sat down next to Nellie. ‘Of course it’s easy. A five-year-old can read, so it must be.’ He scattered some boiled sweets on the table with a flourish. ‘Help yourselves. I’m celebrating.’

  Nellie crammed a sweet into her mouth: such things were still a great treat for her. ‘What is it you’re celebrating, Mr Strout?’

  Edward grinned widely. ‘Well, Miss Nellie, believe it or not, I’m getting married.’

  ‘Married!’

  ‘Yes indeed. That pretty little Annie what works at the Lefroy residence, she’s The One and no mistake. I goes on bended knee to ask if she’ll have me, says I’ll do anything to make her happy, and so on and so forth, and what does she say? She says she thought I’d never ask! Now I’m the happiest man alive.’ He stood up. ‘I’d best go and tell Mrs Thompson she’ll be having to find a new boarder. Annie and me’ll be wed as soon as she works out her two weeks’ notice, and then I’ll be moving out.’

  ‘Congratulations, Edward,’ said Tom, shaking his hand. ‘It’s good news, but we’ll miss you.’

  ‘I’ll miss you and all,’ said Edward, ‘but we’ll stay in touch, don’t you worry.’

  ‘A is for Annie
,’ said Nellie, as Edward disappeared into the hallway. ‘E is for Edward. And M is for Marriage.’

  ‘R is for Reading,’ said Tom. ‘Nellie, you won’t learn to read and write if you don’t concentrate.’

  ‘And R is for Writing!’ said Nellie triumphantly.

  ‘Well, no,’ said Tom. ‘In fact, Writing starts with a W.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It just does.’

  Nellie’s head sank back into her hands. ‘Oh, Tom,’ she said. ‘You must think I’m the biggest eejit in the world.’

  ‘Never,’ said Tom. ‘Georgie Mitchell at school is a much bigger idiot than you could ever be. Come, let’s spell out your name. Find me the letters. And then I’ll show you how to write it, properly.’

  ‘NELLIE! Nellie! Nellie!’ Nellie had worked hard all afternoon, sweeping and dusting and scrubbing until her arms ached. Mrs Thompson had gone shopping, and the younger children were back from school. Albert was asleep upstairs. Tom had said he’d be late home, because he was going to a friend’s house to borrow a book.

  Now that she’d finished her tasks, Nellie was sitting in the back yard, wrapped in Maggie Dooley’s shawl against the light cool breeze. She was studying her spelling book, trying to work out the sentences made up of words of two letters. We go in. We go up. It is an ox. It wasn’t easy, no matter what Edward Strout said.

  ‘Nellie!’

  Nellie put her fingers in her ears. She had no time for William and Hetty right now. So do we go –

  ‘Nellie, Nellie! The house is on fire!’

  Nellie frowned. Fire, indeed! For sure, the fire would be as real as that snake.

  ‘You’ll not fool me twice!’ she yelled. ‘Go away, or I’ll call up a Pooka to give you a bad surprise, so I will!’