Never been anything to you who his Ma was, I said. That he was half darkie.
Jack's as good a feller as ever drew breath, Pa said. You think he's a grand feller and he is. But not to marry, Dolly.
Not about the throwbacks! I said. Don't tell me about the throwbacks!
Pet, Pa said, you're not much more than a child. Not old enough to see your way all round a thing. No, let me say my piece, Dolly.
We'll wait, I said. Wait till I'm of age.
He took no notice of that.
You know I worked up from nothing, he said.
I thought he was going to tell me about the oranges. For a flash I felt the bubble of a silly laugh.
Worked my way up, Pa said. Want to see you children get the good of it. Not throw it all away, slip back to where I come from.
Turned his hands up, looked at the palms as if his life was written on them. Ma coming to stand beside him, he smiled at her.
You'll have opportunities, pet, he said. Get up in the world. Marrying Jack Langland be a step down. You think none of that matters. But Dolly, I'm telling you as your father I can't let you turn your back on your opportunities.
Opportunities! I wished John Daunt dead, wished him fallen dead off his saddle. Along with any other gentleman Pa might like the look of for his daughter.
Jack's the best of men, Pa said. What he done, going off, that's to his credit.
To his credit, I said. What credit, Pa? What's to his damn credit? Put his money aside, got the place at Sullivan's! That's to his credit!
But knew whatever words I might find, they'd never be the right ones. Me and Pa was two people having separate conversations. Between us somewhere was the poison that made Jack heave on the oars to get away from me, but I couldn't see where it had lodged.
Oh yes, Sullivan's. Pa said. Of all the places on God's earth, he picked out Sullivan's.
We know it's no great place, I said. Don't have to tell us that. Make a start, that's all.
Look, Dolly, Jack wants the best for you, Pa said. The way we do. Your ma laid it all out to him, just the same way I'd of done if I'd of been there. He saw the sense of it when she put it in front of him. Told her he wouldn't want to stand in your way. That right, Meg? That what he said?
His very words, Ma said. I wouldn't want to stand in her way. She's a dear girl and I wouldn't want to stand in her way. His words exactly.
Stand in my way! I said. How's that, stand in my way?
He could see it, Dolly, Ma said. How it would look. People thinking, Jack Langland, come from nothing, seeing a chance to get up in the world.
What's it matter what people think, I said.
But my blood had stopped because I knew, before she said.
He's too proud a man, Ma said. Wouldn't lay himself open to people talking. You know he's proud, Dolly. Don't you.
I couldn't deny it. I'd seen that pride. It was something I loved in him. And yet, the look on his face as he pushed me aside and went off. Was that pride? Could pride make a man look as if he'd been stabbed?
You're not happy, pet, I know, Pa said. Think the world's come to an end with Jack gone. We can see further than you. Thank us in the end.
He spoke so kindly I knew I was beaten. His rage I could fight. But this kindliness, like someone talking to a sick person, you could no more fight that than cut water with a knife.
Got away from them and their smiles, up to my room, locked the door. Tried to think the thing through.
He wouldn't stand in
my way
. That was because Dolly Thornhill was rich and Jack Langland was poor. A poor man who married a rich woman would always be scorned. It was a clever snare. The harder you pulled, the tighter it caught.
But there was one way to undo it. If Dolly Thornhill was equal to Jack Langland, the snare would lose its grip. I couldn't make Jack Langland rich but I could make Dolly Thornhill poor.
Jack would come back. He'd have to say goodbye to the girl. Wouldn't leave without talking to her. His things still here, too, in his room. When he got back I'd be waiting on the jetty. Nothing in my hands, not a thing but the clothes I stood up in. Nothing could
stand in my way,
because I'd take nothing from Pa. Not a penny, not a dish, not a wedding with French champagne and top hats. Not even a father's blessing.
When Pa knocked at the door and rattled the knob I told him, Go away.
Got my warm shawl, put my hairbrush in the pocket of my skirt. Put a ribbon through the slip of green stone, hung it round my neck. That was all the dowry I'd need.
This is the last night I spend in this house, I thought. This time tomorrow, it'll be me and Jack at Sullivan's. Lucky it's warm weather. But cold or hungry as we might be at the start, there'd be all the years of the rest of our lives to be happy.
I'd be Sarah Langland, with or without the parson. As if I'd never been a Thornhill.
Jack would explain to the girl. That it was only for a time. That him and Auntie Dolly were only a mile away, and waiting the chance to help her. I pictured her slipping out of the house one night, walking barefoot in her nightdress through the paddocks and over the rocks, past Payne's Mill, through the mangroves and the bush, till she got to Sullivan's. She had that kind of will. Once she was with us, that'd be half the battle. When Pa saw her smile he'd let her stay.
I sat up and listened all night in case Jack come back. Soon as the stars faded I stepped out into the hall. There was the door to Jack's room, that I'd opened so cunningly and gone in to find bliss. And here was the door where John Daunt might or might not of seen me.
My life till now. It all seemed a childish thing, nothing of any importance to the woman walking away from it empty-handed.
Down at the jetty the river was black, the bush dark, too early even for the birds. But Pa was there. Dressed: hat, boots, everything. Like he'd been standing on the jetty all night. The speckled dog beside him, sitting watching up the river with Pa.
Well Dolly, he said. We're of a like mind, I see.
I had nothing to say to him. This was the last time I'd stand beside my Pa.
Then the dog yipped. Just one yip. The skiff was coming towards us in the grey light. Why from the Branch, I thought, but what did it matter.
What mattered was, he was coming towards me, his shoulders bunching and stretching, bunching and stretching, pushing the boat against the tide in spurts. Turned around and saw us. Stopped rowing and the boat slid away upstream so I thought he'd changed his mind. Pushed my shawl off my shoulders, went right to the edge of the jetty. Ready to jump in, splash in that silky black water till he'd be obliged to come and fish me out.
He turned his back, bent to the oars again. Something dogged and reluctant in the set of his shoulders. Then he was alongside, shipping the oars, making fast. All I could see was the top of his head, that thick black hair.
Gone up the Branch then were you, lad, Pa said.
Jack stepped up on the jetty. His face, what I could see of it, set hard.
Right up? Pa said. Away aways up?
Jack gave Pa one heavy look. The muscle in his jaw moved. Something stirred in the space between them. Jack started up to the house. I went to take his arm.
Coming with you, Jack, I said. Here and now. Not bringing a single damn thing with me, not even the name I got from Pa. Langland from now, and proud to be.
That was the start of the speech I'd got ready, and then I'd pictured us rowing off down the river, leaving Thornhill's behind.
But he jerked away from my hand, started fast up the track. I chased him but the faster I followed, the faster he walked, long strides in his boots.
Turned in at the gate, up the front steps. Ma was there, put a hand out to stop him but he brushed past. When I followed she took hold of my arm. Stronger than you'd of thought. Turned around and around together on the verandah like two people doing an angry dance.
I got out of her grip at last and ran up to Jack's room. He had a few things in his hand, bits of clothing and a pouch with the chink of coins. Putting them together into a bundle, fumbling with them, going so fast. The girl was with him, he was talking to her. Her face opened, there was that light I'd wanted to see. He was taking her away.
Jack, I said, for God's sake what's up!
Went to touch him but he twitched away as if I was red-hot.
Forget your damn pride, Jack, I said, panting still from the run up the hill.
Then Pa was in the room, and behind him Jemmy Katter and Bob Dodd, what were they doing here in the house?
By God you'll not take her! Pa shouted.
I will, Jack shouted back. Won't leave her here with you!
The girl hanging onto Jack, brown fingers white at the knuckles, holding his coat so hard. Pa pulling at her and Jack trying to get her away. Seemed the three of them would be knotted up forever in the small room.
Jem! Pa shouted. Jem, quick now man! God's sake Bob, get hold of this feller!
Jemmy and Bob got themselves either side of Jack, got an arm each and dragged him backwards so he stumbled, nearly fell. Kicked out, twisted himself round in their grip, it took all the strength Jemmy and Bob had to hold him.
Listen to me, lad, Pa said, his arms pinning the girl. Only say it the once. I see you here again, I get the law on you. You make a move to this girl, I see you behind bars. Guarantee you that, lad. Lock you up, throw away the key. Do it, not a second thought, don't you ever doubt!
Jack went slack in the men's grip, the girl stopped struggling. Pa stared at Jack with a face of stone. It seemed nothing would ever move again.
Take him out, Jemmy, Pa said. Turn him away. Bob, take his bundle there, see him gone out the gate and away.
The men jostled Jack out the door between them and I went to follow, but there was Ma in my way, holding me and shouting into my face. I felt the spit land on my cheek. By the time I wrenched away from her and got out to the gate, Jack was gone, Jemmy and Bob standing looking sheepish. Jemmy jerked his head sideways and there was Jack already well up the hill, long fierce strides.
I hoisted up my skirt, ran like I'd never run before. Got up to him, grabbed at him. Had no breath for words but hung onto his hand so he swung half round.
He stopped. Didn't look at me, pulled his arm away.
Look out for her, for God's sake, he said. The one thing you can do. Just look out for her.
We'll get her to Sullivan's, I said. With us. Like we said.
Forget Sullivan's, he said. That's gone. This whole rotten dirty place. Never set foot here again.
I grabbed at him again, but he was too quick. Stood a yard away and looked at me at last. His face dark, boiling, bent out of shape. The scald of that look.
None of your doing, he said. But get this straight in your mind. I'll not have any part of you. Never want to see your face again. Not now, not ever.
Turned his back on me and stepped out, driving himself up the hill, putting the yards between us. I tucked my elbows in and ran. The breath rasped in and out of my throat but I couldn't get enough air. Forced my feet on, one step after the other. The breath came ragged, tearing in and out of me, the sunlight turned black. I sprawled in the dust with no voice left to cry out after him. Lifted my head in time to see him reach the turn in the road. Saw him take the last step. The bundle giving a bounce, his boot pushing back against the ground and his elbow driving him on.
I watched the yellow dust where his foot had been. As if he'd come back if I watched long enough. Held my breath, waiting. A puff of breeze shook the bushes, coiled on the ground, rose up carrying dust and leaves. Whirled like something alive, then fell back into itself, dust lying on dust.
Jack was gone but my body would not let it be so. Refusal turned me inside out, a vomit of cries and tears ripped out of me in long bleeding wails I had no power to stop. I squatted on the dust rocking backwards and forwards to push away the thing that I would not allow. Snatched at my hair, tore it out in strands, wanting a pain in my body that would shut out the pain in my heart.
Everything was an enemy. The dirt under my hands, my clothes strangling me, the sun stabbing at me, the breeze grating at my skin. Myself was the worst enemy. I wanted to walk away, leave myself behind. Would of been pleased to stop being, then and there.
I
SAT for a long time. There was no point in going anywhere. That patch of dust was the only place I could be, because that was the last place Jack had been. Leaving it was like leaving him.
The sun was high overhead when I got up at last, went down the hill. The hair sticking to my face, clothes screwed round where I'd thrown myself about.
Ma was waiting in the parlour like a spider. Put her sewing to one side, she was going to try to hug me. I got away, running up the stairs, though where was I running to?
In Jack's room the girl was standing by the bed. Touching it as if he might be hiding under the blanket. Took no notice of me. Got up on the pillow end of the bed and sat cross-legged, her face a blank. I sat on the other end, where she'd curled up at his feet that first night. Between us the idea of Jack.
He'll be back, I said. By and by. Turn round, there he'll be to fetch us away.
Anne clattered the plates in the kitchen below. Something rang like a gong. The tin dish, that would be, being hung up on its hook. Then everything went quiet, the afternoon pressing into every room around us.
I moved down the bed towards the girl, reached out towards her across the emptiness that was Jack gone. Let her see my eyes swollen with all the crying I'd done. She stared as if crying was some kind of animal she'd never seen before.
I had her fingers, cool and thin, for a touch, then she pulled her hand away, got down off the bed, slipped out of the room. I was left with the dent in the bedclothes where she'd been.
I could hear Ma calling,
Rachel? Where are you Rachel?
and her feet up the stairs.