‘What do you mean, gone?’
‘I mean she up and left two days ago. Didn’t tell me why or where, and we’ve been friends a year and all.’
Edward unlocked the door and went inside. It was just as the woman said. He searched every room. There was no sign of Fanny, not even a stray stocking. It was as if she’d never lived there at all.
CHAPTER 60
Edward didn’t talk to Belle the next morning – about the diamond mine or Binburra or anything else. Fanny’s mysterious vanishing act had thrown him too much. For all he knew, Belle was the one behind it.
He’d been making an effort to moderate his alcohol and laudanum intake; spending more time with his family in three weeks than he had in six months. The girls loved it. If he were to be honest, he loved it too. He didn’t miss Fanny nearly as much as he’d expected to.
If Belle had anything to do with Fanny’s disappearance, she was hiding it well. Edward watched his wife for signs of added resentment, feeling a little paranoid. Yet he detected no change, no crack in her cool, aloof exterior.
The longer it took him to talk to her, the harder it became. Especially since he’d hit a legal snag concerning the sale of Binburra. Belle had inherited the estate upon the death of her parents and Edward had assumed, therefore, that it belonged to him. Any assets accruing to a married woman, whether through wage, investment, gift, or inheritance, automatically became the property of her husband. That’s how it had always been.
However, according to his lawyer, recent legislation had changed all that. The Married Women’s Property Act of 1900 allowed such women to own and control property in their own right. In principle he agreed with women’s equality, but in this case it had some unfortunate consequences. Belle would never agree to sell Binburra.
His lawyer had suggested a deception to work around the problem. Present Belle with some papers requiring her signature. Tell her they related to the grant of probate for her parents’ estate. Slip in a transfer of land document, making Edward the proprietor of Binburra. Have her sign it along with the rest.
The plan worked. The contract of sale was duly executed, with the shortest possible settlement period, as the Colonel had requested. And in time, Edward told himself, Belle would thank him.
But this was time he did not have. Robbie was coming home for a few days next week, and Belle planned to take the children back to Binburra for a visit. Yet Lucas had already taken legal possession of the property, and had left Hobart for Hills End. Edward would have to pluck up the courage soon or risk an embarrassing encounter between his family and the good Colonel.
Soon after, he surprised Belle by inviting her for a picnic. He did it over breakfast, ensuring the girls were present for added leverage.
‘I planned on finishing a painting,’ Belle said.
‘You still can. Picnics don’t take all day.’
Nine-year-old Anne, always the cheeky one, perched on her mother’s knee and pinched her cheeks. ‘Please, Mama. Pleeeease!’
The corners of Belle’s mouth turned up a fraction. She was weakening. It occurred to him that it was a long time since he’d seen his wife smile.
‘Come on, Belle,’ he coaxed. ‘It’s a lovely day. When did we last spend a family Sunday together?’
‘And whose fault is that?’
He put his hand against his heart. ‘Mea culpa. Let me make it up to you and the girls. What do you say, Clara?’
Clara was twelve now, a serious child who could generally be found in the garden with her head buried in a book. ‘Can we take the Oldsmobile?’ she asked. ‘I want to ride in the rumble seat.’
‘Henry Roberts has a zoo in his grounds not far from here. We could have our picnic there.’ Edward’s association with Colonel Buchanan had resulted in a recent flurry of invitations from Hobart’s gentry. Roberts owned a successful wool-broking and stock-agency company. His socialite wife, Mary, had a collection of exotic animals. ‘You and Mary would get on.’
‘My friend’s been there,’ said Clara. ‘She says they have a real lion. I’ve never seen a real lion.’
‘Me either,’ said Anne.
Belle sighed. ‘Very well. I’ll ask Hetty to pack us a basket.’
The spacious grounds of Beaumaris, the Roberts’ mansion, had been turned into a menagerie of creatures great and small. Aviaries of brightly coloured birds. A monkey house. The promised lion.
Clara and Anne ran from one enclosure to another as Mary Roberts gave them the grand tour. She was a tall, dignified woman of about sixty, with the passion and energy of someone half her age. Belle seemed almost as excited as the girls.
‘I knew your father, my dear,’ said Mary. ‘A wonderful man who worked tirelessly to protect our wildlife. Such a dreadful loss.’
‘Thank you, Mary.’ Belle pointed to some small kangaroos roaming free on the lawn, along with a flock of geese. ‘Bennett’s wallabies and Cape Barren geese. Oh, and are those pademelons at the back?’
‘Quite right.’ Mary beamed. ‘You are indeed your father’s child. So lovely to meet somebody who appreciates our natives. Most people are only interested in the exotic species.’
Edward grinned. He’d been right about Belle and Mary getting on. They hadn’t stopped talking since they met. Belle threw her head back, laughing at some remark or other. Bright eyes brimming with delight. Shining chestnut hair as thick and full as ever. Her simple white lawn-dress of Irish lace showed off her trim figure to great advantage. This was the girl he’d married. A sudden rush of love left him weak.
‘Come and see the devils,’ said Mary.
‘You have devils?’ asked Belle.
‘Oh, yes, and native tigers, although the devils are my favourites. I’m the first to have bred them in captivity, you know. People have such exaggerated opinions about them being ugly and fierce. When visitors see my babies, lively and happy, running to my call, they realise the devil is not so black as he’s been painted.’
Even Edward was curious to see the living tigers, having only ever seen skins. His father had helped engineer a controversial bounty scheme that had seen the rare animal become even rarer. So rare, Belle had once told him, their population would probably never recover.
The tigers were in the next enclosure, crouched at the back of a shallow shed full of straw. A pair, one larger and heavier than the other. Photos and skins hadn’t prepared him for the living animals. Apart from the distinct dark stripes across their backs, they bore no resemblance to tigers. These were wolves, with large jaws and powerful streamlined bodies. Pouched wolves. Simply magnificent. Edward felt a catch in his throat. What had his father done?
‘This pair is destined for the Bronx Zoo in New York City,’ said Mary. ‘International zoological societies place far more importance on these animals than Tasmanians do. I know, my dear.’ She touched Belle’s shoulder. ‘Such fools. We won’t know what we have until it’s gone.’
Clara ran over. ‘Don’t cry, Mama.’
Tears were streaming down Belle’s face, and Edward didn’t know why. Instinctively, he gathered her to him and for once she didn’t push him away. ‘Come on, sweetheart . . . girls.’ He smiled his most encouraging smile. ‘Let’s have that picnic.’
The zoo and park-like grounds were a popular weekend destination for families. Edward found a free spot under a spreading chestnut tree, put down the blanket, and fetched the basket from the car. Hetty had outdone herself. Melt-in-the-mouth sandwiches that Clara insisted on feeding to the geese. Egg and bacon pie, salmon patties, strawberries with lashings of whipped cream. Anne made herself sick on lemonade and gingerbread. Belle cheered up and ate three little fruit flans in a row. A sea breeze tempered the early summer sunshine, and though the silver flask lay snug and safe in his pocket he did not touch it.
‘Can we do this every Sunday, Mama?’ asked Anne.
‘Not every Sunday.’ Belle caught Edward’s eye and moved a fraction closer to him. ‘I think every second Sunday would do, don’t you?’<
br />
Edward poured her a glass of chilled lemonade from the icebox, and she thanked him with her eyes. The delicious prickle of a connection was in the air. If only Robbie were here, it would be as perfect a day as he’d known.
‘Thank you for today, Eddie. I feel so alive here. And meeting Mary has reminded me of where my real passion lies. Not in teaching, but in conservation.’ He didn’t like where this was going. ‘I’ve made a decision. I want to join the Royal Society. I want to continue Papa’s work at Binburra, restoring habitats and protecting native species. Mary said she’ll help me. What do you think?’
Oh. He should have spoken to her sooner. Still, he couldn’t let the sale stand between them. She deserved to know. However, there was something he needed to do first.
Edward took the silver flask from his pocket and handed it to Belle. Concern clouded her face, and at first she wouldn’t touch it.
‘Why is Papa giving you his medicine?’ asked Clara. ‘Are you sick, Mama?’
Edward froze with shame. He didn’t know that the girls knew, or that Belle had invented an innocent explanation for the flask.
‘I don’t need my medicine any more,’ he said, not taking his gaze from Belle’s face. ‘I think I’m well again.’
She wrapped some leftovers in two napkins and handed one to each child. ‘Go and feed the swans on the lake for me. See if you can count how many black ones and how many white ones.’
‘It won’t be that easy,’ said Belle when the girls had run off. ‘Opium creates a physical addiction. When Luke came home after the mine accident, he craved laudanum so fiercely it made him ill. Papa gave him herbs to ease the pain.’
‘What sort?’
Belle reached across to take his hand. ‘You’re really serious about this, aren’t you? I remember a few: ginseng, chamomile, valerian . . . and golden root, I think. Shall I try to find out more?’
‘We’ll find out together.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘You have my solemn promise that this will not beat me. I want a fresh start, Belle. I want my family back. But first, there’s something you should know.’ He wished he could have a swig of Dutch courage. ‘I sold Binburra, sweetheart. To Colonel Buchanan.’
Belle’s hand crept out of his. ‘You couldn’t,’ she said. ‘Papa left it to me.’
His mouth went dry. ‘What’s yours is mine,’ he said. ‘As your husband.’
‘Not any more. That’s all changed. Married women have the right to own property.’
‘Perhaps, but see, the thing is . . .’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘You signed the title deed over.’
‘I did not.’
‘You did, sweetheart.’
He could see her mind ticking over. ‘Are you telling me, those documents you said were for probate . . .?’
‘I thought you knew . . .’
‘No, you didn’t.’ Her voice was rising. The people under the next tree looked over at them. ‘You tricked me. That’s fraud. The sale isn’t legal.’
‘I’m afraid it is. In fact, it’s already gone through. Just because you don’t read what you’re signing . . .’
‘Don’t put this on me. I trusted you.’
‘Of course you did, and you had every reason to. We still have Canterbury Downs if you fancy a weekend in the country. I did this for us, Belle, to bury the memories that have torn us apart in the past.’
Belle jumped to her feet, face flushed, hands clenched tight. ‘How could you?’ she shouted. ‘I’ll never forgive you.’ She spun around and marched away.
‘Belle, come back. Please.’
He held his breath as her steps slowed, then stopped. She turned on her heel and, with halting steps, walked to him.
‘Thank God, Belle. Sit down, sweetheart. We can talk this through. I’ll try to get Binburra back, if that’s what you want.’
A blinding pain exploded in his face. The silver flask bounced off the bridge of his nose and landed in his lap. He squinted up at her through half-closed eyes.
‘Damn you, Eddie.’
Edward’s fingers closed over the flask. When he next looked up, he saw Clara standing over him with wide eyes. ‘What’s wrong, Papa? Are you sick again? And why is Mama running away?’
CHAPTER 61
The girls stood by the bannister. Clara, hollow-eyed and blank. Anne’s lips trembling, as if she were fighting back tears.
‘Take the children upstairs, Mrs Blair.’
‘No, please, Eddie. Let me spend some time with them.’
He shook his head. ‘Mrs Blair?’
The governess started to shepherd the girls upstairs.
Belle forced a smile and waved. ‘Goodbye, my darlings. Mama loves you.’ Her voice cracked with emotion. ‘Be good and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Edward crossed his arms and stepped in front of Belle, blocking her view of the staircase. ‘Don’t tell them that. It’s not happening.’
Today was the first time he’d spoken to his wife since the disastrous picnic. Becky had called by later that same afternoon to say that Belle was staying at Coomalong, the Campbell’s old home next door to the school. When he’d gone round there, she wouldn’t talk to him. However, she did have the nerve to send him a letter demanding he send her the girls. She should never have thought leaving him would be so simple.
The two faced each other across the empty entrance hall. In the space of ten days his wife looked smaller, thinner, older, with her lovely hair pulled back tightly and secured in a low bun. A few stray strands escaped and clung to her face, which was red and puffy from crying. Even her spine seemed bowed. He almost felt sorry for her, for the desperation in her eyes.
Then he thought of how she’d humiliated him publicly at the very time he wanted to avoid a scandal. It was no secret that Belle had left him. Edward’s friendship with the Colonel had raised his profile, but it could not protect him from gossip. Perhaps it made things worse. Separation was unheard of among Hobart’s polite society. Now, all knew Edward Abbott as the man who could not hold on to his wife.
‘Look at you. You’re a wreck, Belle. It’s clear you can’t look after yourself.’ He managed a faint smile. ‘Come home, and we’ll try to put this behind us.’
‘Apologise for your deceit, Eddie. Return Binburra to my rightful hands, and I might consider it.’ The silence yawned between them. ‘Where’s Robbie?’
‘Upstairs.’
‘I want to see him.’ A tremor in her voice belied the calm request.
‘Robert doesn’t want to see you. Can you blame him, after you abandoned him and his sisters?’
She drew herself up to her full height and, in an instant, all her fire and beauty returned. ‘I did not abandon my children.’ She fixed him with burning, reproachful eyes. ‘I abandoned you.’
Edward breached the space between them in a bound, and pulled her roughly to him. She twisted in his arms, arching her body to get free. He gripped her tighter, not caring if he hurt her, and pressed a savage kiss on her lips. Her mouth remained unyielding, her open eyes as hard as flint.
‘Arrgh.’ He shoved her away. ‘Go then. Go if you must, but don’t expect to see your children again.’
For a moment her eyes softened and he saw what looked like pity there. ‘You don’t mean that, Eddie. I shall call again tomorrow.’ Belle turned and left the house with a dignity he couldn’t help but admire.
The unfamiliar sting of tears pricked his eyes, and he wanted to chase after her. Explain how he’d travelled to Hills End to redress the wrong he’d done, and tried to buy Binburra back. That was despite the Colonel having paid twice what it was worth.
Lucas had been unmoved by his pleas. ‘This place is perfect for me, Ed. Your wife is, of course, most welcome to visit.’
Damn that man. Edward went to the library and sank into a chair. He should never have sold Binburra to begin with. Although, perversely, that neglected estate was the one property for which he’d received a good price. All round, he’d had the most terrible luck raising mon
ey at short notice for the new diamond mine.
He’d put several prime landholdings on the market, but buyer after buyer had defaulted on the brink of purchase. With time of the essence, he’d been forced to accept offers well below market value.
Recent wool sales hadn’t been what he’d hoped for either. A newly formed collective of graziers was undercutting him, losing him buyers altogether or forcing him to take a loss. How they could afford to sell at such prices was beyond him. Bales produced by his low-paid farmers couldn’t match those of the Midland Woolgrowers Cooperative, in either weight or quality. Belle had often urged him to improve pay and conditions on his farms. It seemed she’d been right.
And then there was the trouble at Hills End Mine. The new shafts were weeks behind schedule, with so many holdups and accidents, he almost suspected sabotage. On top of that, he had labour problems. Some of his best engineers had been poached by a South African consortium. Rabble-rousers were stirring up the workforce, organising unions and causing strife. Their demands for improved safety and higher wages couldn’t have come at a worse time. Strikes and go-slows were slashing production.
If only there weren’t such a tight timeline. He was still thirty thousand pounds short of the amount needed to seal the deal, and the deadline was looming. The pouch of gems from Lucas had passed muster. Tiffany’s agent in Melbourne had pronounced them stones of the highest quality. An independent valuer’s report on the diamond field was due on his desk that morning. If it came up trumps, he’d have no choice but to borrow the additional funds.
Edward took a swig from his silver flask, having replaced its former contents with whisky. He was trying to honour the promise he’d made to Belle at the zoo, countering the clenching pains in his gut with aspirin and some kind of hideous concoction from his doctor. Nothing really helped. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t work. Yet he was determined to fight the addiction. For the sake of his family. For the sake of himself. This whole mess could still turn around. If Belle forgave him, as she always had before. If the diamond deal went through. Well, he’d be sitting pretty.
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