Amelia thought of her younger brother and sisters who had a governess at home. Joseph too grumbled at having to learn lessons. He would rather be out on the estate with Roger and Uncle Sam, and Hannah would rather play with her dolls. Lily was the only one with any aptitude for learning, but there was no prospect of them ever having to look for work to earn their living.
‘How would it be if I helped you with your
reading and writing, Kieran, along with Miss Fielding and Miss Harriet? We’d get on very quickly then, and you could leave sooner than you expected and try for work.’
The little boy put his head on one side and thought about it. ‘Sure,’ he agreed. ‘We could give it a try.’
Moira looked at her eagerly. ‘Would you be helping me too, Miss Linton? Ma says I need a bit of a push on me backside to get me going.’
Amelia laughed. ‘Why not? Shall we try to have you both reading by Christmas?’
It was decided that Amelia should give the two children extra lessons on their own, and after Patrick, the coachman, had collected her and escorted her back to her aunt’s in the carriage that evening, she reflected that it had been a very satisfying day. She worried though that she was being a nuisance to her aunt and uncle by requiring Patrick to escort her to and fro every day. But there was nothing else for it. The days were short, the weather was damp and foggy and she could not journey home alone in the darkness.
In the cosy parlour with the fire warming them, Kieran and Moira soon began to improve in their writing and arithmetic, but their Irish accent was so strong that although Amelia was sure they were reading the words correctly, she couldn’t always understand what they were saying. Again and again she corrected their
English until at last she thought there was some improvement.
Then came the day when there was a hammering on the door and a giant of an Irishman stood there with a pack on his back. He asked particularly for Miss Linton and in some trepidation, Harriet brought him through into the parlour where Amelia was sitting with Kieran and Moira and two other children. The lamps were lit and the children were grouped around a chenille-covered table with their books in their hands.
‘Mr Mahoney wants to speak to you, Miss Linton,’ Harriet said nervously. ‘I’ll just get Miss Fielding.’
‘I don’t want Miss Fielding,’ the man said brusquely. ‘It’s this young woman that I want. She’s the one who’s teaching my bairns to give up their Irish tongue and speak the English.’
Amelia stood up, as did the children. Kieran and Moira stared apprehensively at their father. ‘Shall we go out into the hall, Mr Mahoney?’ she said in a braver tone than she felt. ‘Then the children can get on with their lessons.’
‘I’ll say what I have to say right here, miss. I never wanted them to come to school. They should be earning their own bread by now, same as I did at their age. Not sitting with a book in their hands in front of a warm fire as if they were grand folk! It was their mammy’s idea that they should come and I gave into her in a weak moment.’ He stared hard at Amelia and she saw
that his eyes were as blue as Kieran’s. ‘But I’ll not have them forgetting their roots. Irish we are and proud of it.’
‘And quite right too, Mr Mahoney.’ Amelia spoke up, for she guessed that he was mostly bluster. ‘I am in complete agreement with you. It’s most important that we know our own historical background, and as soon as the children can read and write sufficiently well, we shall be teaching them, in a simple form, the history of both England and Ireland.’
She smiled at him. ‘I’m sure you will do the same. But as far as teaching them English, if they are to stay in England they will have more chance of obtaining work if their accent can be understood, and they will never lose it completely, I can assure you of that. And why should they want to, it is charming!’
Mr Mahoney stood open-mouthed, then said, ‘Charming? To be sure, nobody has ever said that before.’
‘Well I’m saying it. And they are delightful, intelligent children. They need every opportunity they can get.’
He backed away to the door. ‘Well, as long as it’s understood.’ He waved a finger halfheartedly. ‘They keep their Irish tongue!’
‘I understand completely, you need have no doubts on that. Good day, Mr Mahoney. Thank you for coming.’
She heaved a sigh as the door was closed behind him and the children, all but Moira, sat
down again. ‘Sorry, miss,’ she said, hanging her head. ‘It was my fault.’
‘How was it your fault, Moira?’
‘It was our Eamon, he was babbling on something terrible last night and I screeched at him, “you eejit, speak English for God’s sake,” and Dada was just coming in the door and heard me. He fetched me a clout and said we were getting above ourselves and he’d take us away from school.’
‘And I said we wanted to stay, miss,’ Kieran butted in. ‘I told him that you said we’d be reading by Christmas.’
Amelia gave a huge smile. ‘And so you will. That’s a promise.’
‘
SO WHAT SHALL
we do? How shall we get round it?’ Ralph looked anxiously at Jack. ‘The clerk was definite about it.’
Jack put his chin in his hands and gazed down from the Hawkins’s veranda towards the creek. ‘He wouldn’t take a bribe?’
‘No, I tried that too. He said he would be out of a job if he did.’
‘There’s only one thing for it then. I’ll have to come as your manservant!’
Ralph roared with laughter and slapped Jack on the shoulder. ‘Brilliant! Does that mean you’ll press my trousers?’
‘No sir, it don’t! You press your own damned trousers, white man.’
‘What’s going on out here?’ Meg came out, followed by Joe. ‘Can we share in the joke?’
‘It’s no joke, Ma.’ A sudden gloom came into Ralph’s voice. ‘We can’t get Jack on board ship as a passenger. When I went to book they asked if he was a native Australian and when I said
yes, same as me, they asked what colour he was. Then the clerk said all the cabins were taken.’
‘And were they?’ his father frowned.
‘No, I saw the list. There was plenty of space.’
‘Mrs Boyle and her daughter are travelling on ’same ship,’ Meg said. ‘I understood ’ship was only half full.’
‘I’ll wear my white tunic and travel as Ralph’s servant.’ Jack grinned as he spoke but there was anger in his eyes. ‘I’m determined to go.’
‘Why do you want to go, Jack?’ Meg asked. ‘What is there for you in England?’
Jack shook his head. ‘Don’t know, Missus Meg.’ He used the name that he had given her when he was a child. ‘I just feel the need to go. I dreamt that I should. There’s something waiting for me.’
‘I’ll go in,’ Joe said vehemently. ‘They’ll not argue wi’ me.’
‘No, sir,’ Jack protested. ‘Book me in as Ralph’s manservant. We can have some fun with that, hey Ralph? I’ll buy some new clothes and expensive luggage and no-one will know what to make of it.’
‘What does your father think of you going to England?’ Joe asked.
‘He thinks I’m crazy, sir,’ he grinned. ‘And I probably am!’
‘Ma says we’ll need warm clothes even though it’ll be spring when we get there.’ Ralph and
Jack walked towards the tailor’s shop to collect the suits that were ready. The two men were roughly the same size, though Jack was stockier, and Ralph had ordered four woollen suits, two for him and two for Jack, though Jack had specified his colour preference. He had also ordered shirts and cravats and two greatcoats.
‘You will surely not require two greatcoats, sir?’ the tailor had remarked. ‘One will be sufficient.’
‘Make it two,’ Ralph insisted. ‘And two top hats, two bowlers and don’t forget the gloves.’
‘Yes, sir. How many pairs?’
‘Four!’
The doorbell jangled as they went into the shop and Mrs Boyle and Phoebe, who had just been attended to, turned towards them. Mrs Boyle carried a small parcel.
‘Mrs Boyle! Miss Boyle!’ Ralph bowed, as did Jack. ‘How very nice to see you.’
They exchanged greetings and Mrs Boyle commented, ‘I understand you are travelling to England on the same ship as we are, Mr Hawkins.’
‘Really?’ Ralph expressed astonishment although his mother had already told him. ‘That is good news! Perhaps we can be of assistance to you whilst on board? Jack is also travelling with me.’ He glanced at the tailor hovering by the counter. ‘It makes it easier, does it not, to have one’s servants on a voyage!’
Phoebe laughed merrily. ‘I don’t know how
you would ever manage without him. Jack must be your right hand.’
‘Oh indeed he is.’ Ralph took a step back away from Jack’s malevolent glare. ‘I couldn’t possibly travel without him.’
They collected all their parcels and walked back to the trap in which they had driven to town. Presently they caught up with Phoebe who was waiting for her mother outside a florist’s shop. She held a parasol over her head for the day was very hot.
‘What was all that about?’ Phoebe asked bluntly. ‘What are you two up to?’
‘Nothing, Miss Boyle.’ Ralph doffed his hat. ‘It’s true. Jack has to come as a servant otherwise he can’t have a cabin.’
‘Why ever not?’
‘In case you haven’t noticed, Miss Boyle,’ Jack said softly, ‘I have a dark skin.’
She gazed at him steadily for a moment, then with a faint blush on her cheeks, said, ‘So you have! I hadn’t noticed.’
‘Isn’t she absolutely adorable?’ Ralph murmured as they walked away towards the Hay-market where they were soon absorbed into the noisy bustle of market trading, the ring of the hammer in the blacksmith’s forge and the cheerful laughter and pungent smell of ale and tobacco emanating from the inns and taprooms. ‘She epitomizes the perfect Englishwoman. Fair hair, fair skin, but with a glow about her that can only come from the Australian sun.’
‘Wrong. Quite wrong!’ Jack said. ‘She is nothing like the average Englishwoman. Her mother, Mrs Boyle, is, she’s gentle and calm and ladylike. Miss Boyle is nothing like that. She might look like an English rose but beneath that fine skin she is pure Australian.’
‘You of all people can say that?’ Ralph said in astonishment. ‘I thought you were of the opinion that only the Aborigine was pure Australian!’
‘I am an observer of people,’ Jack said calmly, ‘and there are some who adapt to whatever culture or climate they happen to live in. Miss Boyle is one of those.’
‘Well, thank God she doesn’t take after her father or behave like her brother,’ Ralph said brusquely. ‘She would be unbearable if she did.’ He gave a sigh. ‘As it is, I find her delightful. She’s merry and charming and – ’
‘And if it were not for her father disliking you, you would be out to capture her?’ Jack commented drily.
‘I’d not let him put me off,’ Ralph protested. ‘I’m very taken with her, Jack. There is no-one else who makes me feel the way I do.’
‘Take care, my friend, that you don’t get hurt,’ Jack said softly as they climbed into the trap and he took the reins. ‘Miss Boyle is not the one for you.’
The ship was due to sail the week after Christmas and the next few weeks were spent in a flurry of Christmas preparations and packing for the voyage. Peggy decorated the veranda with
branches of eucalyptus and sweet-smelling jasmine and twined red ribbon around the top of the veranda posts.
‘When I was a bairn in Hull,’ Meg watched her from the doorway, ‘I used to stand shivering outside ’windows of ’big houses in the High Street or Albion Street and wish and wish that I could go inside. Some of the merchants’ houses had fir trees with flickering candles and presents hanging on the branches, like they did in foreign countries, and coloured boxes tied up with ribbon round ’bottom of ’tree and always a log fire burning in ’grate.’
‘So what did you do, Ma?’ Peggy was concentrating on arranging sprigs of mimosa through the ribbon and forgot for a moment about her mother’s past.
‘We did nothing,’ Meg said bluntly. ‘Sat on a doorstep if we didn’t have a room, or went down to ’soup kitchen in ’Market Place and warmed ourselves by ’brazier.’
Peggy turned around, stricken that she had been so unfeeling as to forget, but her mother was smiling. ‘We are so lucky,’ she said. ‘Your da and me. So very, very lucky.’
Peggy put her arms around her mother and squeezed her. ‘So are we,’ she said huskily. ‘Ralph and I, lucky to have you and Da.’
Joe came up the veranda steps and complimented Peggy on the decorations.
‘Did you have a tree at Christmas when you were a boy, Da?’ she asked.
‘No, Ma said it was pagan and wouldn’t let us have one in the house, but Da would bring in a branch from a tree and Emily and me used to decorate it wi’ coloured paper, though I doubt she would remember, she was onny a bairn. And we had chicken for Christmas dinner! Ma allus fattened one up specially and would put it to cook while we were at church on Christmas morning, oh, aye, and mistress from ‘big house allus brought us a plum pudding and give us a sixpenny piece.’
‘What riches, Joe.’ Meg smiled. ‘You’ll be telling us you were given presents as well.’
Joe’s eyes clouded over. ‘Aye, a nearly new scarf one year and a wooden whistle that my da made, and a handkerchief for Emily with her initial on it.’
Meg put out her arms and Joe stumbled into them. ‘So much harder for you than me, Joe,’ she whispered into his bristly beard. ‘I know how you miss Emily.’
He shook his head. ‘Not so much now,’ he said. ‘Not now that I’ve got you and my own family. I don’t know what I’d have done without you, Meg. It’s just – it’s just with Ralph going away it brings all ’memories flooding back.’
He drew away from her and took a deep breath. ‘Anyway, I’ve got a surprise for all of you, you and me, Peggy and Ralph.’ Meg and Peggy waited expectantly. ‘On Christmas Eve,’ he said, ‘we’re going to drive into Sydney, and we’re spending ’night at best hotel that money can
buy, Royal Hotel – and we’re having our Christmas dinner there as well.’
They both stared at him. ‘It’s booked already so you’d better get yourselves off to buy a new frock or two.’ He drew himself up. ‘And I’ve ordered a new suit, because while we’re there we’re going to have our pictures took so that Ralph can take them to England and show to Emily and Philip and their bairns, so that they’ll know what their Australian family looks like all these years on.’