by Anna Jacobs
She soon forgot him in the cheerful bustle of the market. Even during hard times like this, there was still fresh farm food available for those with money. Her basket was soon so full she had to buy a string bag as well. She was particularly looking forward to eating the crumbly white cheese and the jam made by farmers’ wives. In the end she decided to find a lad to help her carry the things back.
It was a man whom the stallholder summoned, after a whispered, ‘He’s out of work, miss, hope you don’t mind? He’ll only expect the same money as a lad would.’
‘I’m happy to have his help.’
The man looked gaunt and when they got back he was puffing a little. She gave him a shilling and he stared at it as if he’d never seen one before.
‘It’s too much, miss.’
‘Do you have a family?’
He nodded.
‘Then take it for their sake.’
He drew himself up. ‘Only for their sake. I’m not strong enough to do the stone breaking, so I have to take what jobs I can.’
‘If you’ve nothing better to do, I’ll be going to the market at the same time next week, and would appreciate help with my baskets.’
He nodded, raised one hand and walked off, the tired, slouching gait of a man with no energy to spare.
That encounter decided her. She would definitely help her cousin with the relief work now she was feeling better. Well, she would do once the inventory was completed. It was going to take longer than she’d expected, because Mrs Blake had been a hoarder. She’d have to ask Mr Dawson whether she should clear out the dead woman’s drawers ready for the new occupants. Not a pleasant task, but someone had to do it.
As she turned to go inside, she saw Prebble watching her through the shop window.
She wasn’t surprised when Dot came up a short time later to say he’d asked to see her. ‘Show him up.’
She didn’t ask him to sit down.
‘I noticed you’d been to the market, Miss Blair.’
She inclined her head and waited.
‘And I couldn’t help noticing that some of the things you’d purchased are items we sell in the shop, jars of jam, for instance.’
How had he seen that? The jam had been at the bottom of her basket. Had he dared to go and poke around in her kitchen? He must have done. It was the only way he’d have been able to see some of the items. She held back her annoyance, hoping it didn’t show in her face. ‘I don’t consider that to be any concern of yours, Prebble.’
‘I beg to differ, Miss Blair. We’re both employed by the shop, have a duty to be loyal to it, and—’
‘I’m not answerable to you for what I do, Prebble, so if that’s all you wanted to see me about, you can go back to your work. I certainly have things to do.’
His expression was stormy for a moment or two, then it became glassy, as if he was hiding his feelings.
But though he wasn’t a large man, he radiated such menace she was glad to see him go. She could see why the young maid was afraid of him and was thankful the bedroom she slept in had a lock on the door, because the open access from the shop still worried her. Dot said it had been the bedroom the master slept in towards the end and he’d always locked the door too ‘because Mrs Blake did wander sometimes’.
The events that led to Mrs Blake being locked away were still so vivid in Dot’s mind that every now and then she shared a memory with Alice. It didn’t paint a picture of a happy household. And it was thought that the madwoman had had her own husband killed, though no one had been able to prove that or catch the person who did it for her.
It was another hot day, with the sort of heat none of them had ever experienced until they came to Australia. Pandora stopped work to wipe her sweaty brow with her forearm. She was glad of the awning Reece had built to shade the outdoor table that was used for both cooking preparations and eating. She was making damper and her sister Cassandra was chopping potatoes to put in a stew.
It was hard working in such heat, though her sister didn’t seem upset by it. And as for Reece, he positively loved the warmth. The Southerhams stayed out of the sun during the middle of the day. Lucky them! She wished she could do the same.
The food they ate was fairly monotonous, though they’d now brought back quite a few much-needed ingredients from the shop on the highway, which was close to where their other two sisters lived. To call a dusty track a highway had surprised them both. The track was quite narrow, with an occasional wider part. Kevin next door said this was where the wheels of wagons made deep ruts in winter so that other drivers took their vehicles to one side to keep to firmer ground.
The track led all the way down to a port called Albany on the south coast, about three hundred miles from Perth. Mail to England was sent from there because of the sheltered anchorage, which seemed strange when most of the population of the colony lived in and around Perth.
‘I’m looking forward to living with Kevin. He’s so interesting to talk to.’ Cassandra scooped the potato pieces off the chopping board into a bowl.
‘Reece seems fond of him.’
‘I am too. I don’t care if he was once a convict. He’s kind and helpful, and that’s what matters. Reece is building an extra bedroom for us on the side of Kevin’s wooden house. There was a spare bedroom, but it was tiny, so he’s removing the inner wall to that, which will make the living area bigger.’
Pandora suppressed an envious sigh. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to living under canvas, or to the horrible insects and creeping things that joined them there. She lived in terror of finding a snake in her bed. Kevin said Australian snakes were very poisonous and some could kill you with one bite. She checked her bedding every night before she lay down because her bed was only a straw mattresses on a piece of old canvas. Reece said he’d build her a wooden bed frame before winter. She didn’t like to trouble him to ask for it earlier because he worked from dawn to dusk every day.
‘Have you decided what you’re going to wear for the wedding, Cassandra?’
‘The dress I wore at Christmas. It hides this better than my others do.’ She laid one hand briefly on her expanding belly.
‘I’ve got a lace collar you can borrow.’
‘The one on your blue dress? Won’t you need it yourself?’
‘I’m not the person getting married, am I?’
‘Thank you. I will borrow it, then. I do want to look as nice as I can.’ Her face briefly took on the blissful glow it got when she spoke of marrying Reece, then the smile faded and she looked at her sister in concern. ‘I keep worrying about how you’ll go on when you’re alone here afterwards?’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘You could look for another job if you’re unhappy. Something closer to the twins, perhaps.’
‘I’d rather stay near you. Truly.’ She patted the lump of dough into shape and thumped it down into the second of the pair of heavy bread tins they’d persuaded the Southerhams to buy. ‘There. That’s done. I’m sick of making soda bread every day. Do you remember how easy it was when we just popped round to the baker’s for a loaf?’
‘Yes. But it’s different here, with the nearest shop an hour’s cart ride away. If we want to eat bread we have to make it. And at least we have a proper stove to cook on now.’
‘Mrs Southerham didn’t provide very well when it came to food supplies and cooking utensils, did she?’
Cassandra looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was near. ‘They’re the most impractical pair. Why on earth they wanted to become settlers, I can’t think. If Mr Southerham didn’t have Reece to help him, he’d be in serious trouble. Once Reece has served the agreed time to pay back his fare to Australia, we’re going to set up on our own and I can’t think what Mr Southerham will do then. We’ve arranged for my work to be taken off what Reece owes them, a day of my work cancels out half a day of his. Mr Southerham didn’t like that, but he didn’t have much choice. Reece told him straight out he wouldn’t let his wife work for nothi
ng.’
‘Why they think women’s work isn’t worth as much as men’s, I’ll never know,’ Pandora said. She checked the beans that had been soaking overnight. ‘I’ll put these on to cook now, shall I? Thank goodness for dried peas and beans.’
‘And tins of jam. We eat a lot of bread and jam here, don’t we? I just wish there was more fruit and vegetables. Kevin’s got a lemon tree and he grows melons, too. But he only put in enough for himself this year. Reece says he’ll bring us a slice or two. They’re delicious. There are grape vines too, but they’ve not fruited yet.’
‘At least we get plenty of fresh meat. It’s so easy for Mr Southerham to go out and kill a kangaroo. He’s a very good shot.’
She’d managed to speak quite cheerfully this morning, Pandora thought as they separated to continue their work. She was getting better at hiding her homesickness. Maybe one day it’d fade completely.
It hadn’t done so far.
Cassandra watched her younger sister put the second tin of dough into the oven, then clear up the mess of flour from the table top. Pandora’s homesickness was no better, she could tell that. But her sister was trying so hard to hide it and what good would it do to keep mentioning it?
They must just hope she’d settle down as time passed and lose those dark shadows under her eyes. Once they started attending the monthly church services at the shop, they’d meet some eligible young men, surely. Cassandra’s dearest wish was for her three sisters to fall in love and get married, then all of them settle close to one another.
There were supposed to be ten men for every woman here in the Swan River Colony, so it wasn’t an impossible dream, surely?
It was three years now since Pandora’s fiancé had died. Her youngest sister seemed to have got over losing Bill. Time she found someone else.
At least here in Australia they were all safe from their aunt. That was what mattered. If the price of staying alive was a few months’ unhappiness for Pandora till she settled down here, then it was well worth it.
4
Harry watched Mr Featherworth and decided the old fellow was nervous. Now, why? What did they want to see him for today, anyway?
The lawyer cleared his throat. ‘We’re concerned that there are some – um, anomalies in the accounts for groceries supplied to the maid.’
Damn! How had they found that out? Well, good thing he’d been ready for any eventuality. These two silly old fools would never catch him out. The clerk was looking at him as if expecting the worst. Harry deliberately kept them waiting for an answer.
‘The biscuits, for instance, and the amounts of flour and sugar supplied,’ Ralph prompted. ‘They don’t tally with what Dot received.’
Harry gave him a slow, confident smile and saw him blink in surprise. ‘No, they don’t.’
‘You admit it?’
‘Yes. I’ve been doing it to save money for the new owners. I can give you the real accounts, which will show how much I’ve saved. What you’ve been giving that maid was too generous.’
Both men were frowning at him. He didn’t understand people like them. Were they so stupid they wanted to spend more of their clients’ money than they needed? They must be. Why else would they have sent Zachary to Australia cabin class. Harry hated the thought of that lanky idiot living in luxury on the Blake sisters’ money, because Harry had plans for that money himself. He intended to woo one of them, and get the rest to appoint him manager permanently. He’d do whatever it took to achieve that. He tried again to explain.
‘Dot didn’t need such a generous provision of food, Mr Featherworth. She’s only a small woman. If she’d complained of being hungry, I’d have increased what I gave her, but she didn’t, not once. I asked her if she was satisfied and she said yes. You can check that with her. So I’ve saved money for the owners already and would have saved more if you hadn’t appointed Miss Blair to live over the shop. There really was no need for that. I’d been keeping an eye on Dot, making sure she did her work properly.’
He waited, but they said nothing.
He pushed it a bit further, getting in a shot at the governess, whom he was determined to get rid of. ‘I’m disappointed to see that Miss Blair isn’t loyal to those who’re keeping her, very disappointed. Only this morning she went shopping at the market instead of with us and when I suggested she confine certain purchases to the shop, she refused even to consider it.’
Mr Dawson drew himself up. ‘What Miss Blair does with her money is none of your concern, Prebble. Am I not right, Mr Featherworth?’
‘You are indeed. A lady like her can be trusted to make her own choices and decisions.’
Lady! thought Harry. She wasn’t what he called a lady, just a scraggy old spinster, the sort that poked her nose in where it wasn’t wanted. He realised Dawson was still speaking and began to wonder if he was the one who really ran this business, not old Featherworth. How could that be? Dawson dressed neatly but modestly and deferred to his employer all the time. But two or three times today the lawyer had looked at his clerk as if for guidance.
‘If what you claim is correct, can you show me the real accounts?’ Dawson asked sharply.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘I’ll come back with you now and check them. If you agree, of course, Mr Featherworth?’
The lawyer nodded, frowned at Harry then turned back to his clerk, his expression softening as if he was speaking to a friend. They all stuck together, those who hadn’t had to struggle for a living. Stuck-up snobs! Harry enjoyed scoring off them. That was why he’d taken the money at first, to show them he could manage things better than they could. And if they’d not found out about it, he’d have kept it. He had a few little sidelines bringing him in extra money. These two old men would have a fit if they knew half of what he got up to.
He’d find another way to prove to the new owners how capable he was, though, so that they thought well of him. If he got what he wanted out of all this, he’d not keep Featherworth as his lawyer.
‘I’ll leave you to deal with this matter, then, Dawson.’
That old man is soft, doesn’t like unpleasantness, Harry thought as he walked back to the shop with Mr Dawson. This one is the fellow to watch.
He tried to chat but stopped when the clerk showed no signs of responding with more than the occasional nod or shrug.
In the small office just off the packing room at the rear of the shop – a place where he loved to sit and contemplate his new kingdom – Harry took the special account book down from the top shelf and passed it to Mr Dawson with a flourish.
Pity to lose this money. He’d had a savings bank account for a while now and had been looking forward to increasing the amount in it. He’d find other ways of rewarding himself for his hard work, though, now that he’d seen how easy it was to fool people.
Well, he always had taken the odd packet of this and that, and no one had ever noticed. He sold them to his family cheaply, and they knew how to keep their mouths shut. Let alone Prebbles always stuck together, they got good food more cheaply from him. He wasn’t greedy, only took the odd packet, but it all mounted up, as his savings book showed. He loved looking at the total.
When the clerk had finished studying the books, Harry got down the small cash box and held it out. ‘You’ll find the money I saved there. I was going to give it to the new owners to show how well I’d done as manager. I’m finding as many ways to improve the shop’s profits as I can and—’
‘We don’t require you to do that, Prebble. What we asked for when we appointed you was that you continue running the shop as Mr Blake would have done until a permanent manager is chosen. Have you made any more changes that we don’t know about?’
Harry hesitated, but decided this wasn’t the time to conceal anything, not till he’d won their trust. ‘I’ve stopped supplying those working here with dinners. It’s an extravagance the shop can’t afford in times like this.’
‘Mr Blake used to supply dinners to his staff?’
> He nodded. ‘Sandwiches and such.’
‘Then you should continue to do so.’
‘It really isn’t necessary. They’re well enough paid to buy their own.’
‘Do everything as he did it. If you can’t . . .’ He let the words trail away into an implied threat.
Harry breathed in slowly and deeply before he spoke again. ‘About the new assistant we need to hire? You said to leave it to you and get someone temporary. I’ve got a lad who comes in now and then, but it’s hard to manage without someone who knows the shop. We have to keep valued customers waiting sometimes at the moment. Mr Blake must be turning in his grave. I can find someone suitable and—’
‘I have the matter in hand and shall appoint someone before the end of the week.’
‘Surely I should be involved in selecting this person? After all, I know what is needed better than anyone.’
‘How many times do I have to remind you that you are in charge here only until the new owners come back, Prebble. The responsibility for running the shop until then is Mr Featherworth’s, and he has delegated it to me. Do not get above yourself. No decision has been made about the future, because that’s the owners’ responsibility.’
‘I’m just trying to prove myself . . . sir. Surely that’s a good thing?’
‘Making changes only shows me that you can’t do as we’ve asked.’
As Dawson said nothing else, just stared grimly at him, Harry spread his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘If there is a fault, it’s—’
‘I don’t intend to revisit that subject, Prebble. And start providing dinners again for staff.’
Harry watched sourly as the clerk walked round the storage and packing area, stopping behind the lad who was weighing out sugar and putting it into the special blue paper bags. He moved on to the shop, walking slowly round it, pausing occasionally to study something.
You’ll not find anything amiss here, you old sourpuss, Harry thought. I keep everything perfectly clean and tidy.
