Summer at Mount Hope (32 page)

Phoeba heard the scream as she dressed and there was quite a ruckus as her brother-in-law was helped to the bed in the front room. They left him with a jug of wine, a bottle of Maude's headache powder and Lilith sitting at his side fanning his bent and purple foot.

Phoeba wore her blue frock, wound her bun tight, looked at her reflection in the dressing table mirror for the last time before the wedding and said, ‘Fetching, even with a tomato on your head.'

She closed the door to her room – Lilith's and Marius's room now – and found her father waiting at the sulky in his small suit and silly bowler hat. Her mother wore the family pearls and her brown taffeta frock strained at the seams. Robert would have to drive Maude everywhere now – and how on earth would they manage to milk the goat, make bread and cheeses, clean out the guttering, fill the copper, harvest the orchard, grow the vegetables and slaughter the chickens?

At Elm Grove, Hadley's withered mother tied his necktie and breathed, ‘My baby boy.' He looked fine in his suit and he turned his soft eyes down to her; they were blue like the middle of the sky at noon.

‘I am getting married, Mother,' he said.

‘Are you sure?' she asked, clinging to him.

‘You've asked me three times and yes, I want to marry Phoeba Crupp.'

‘Why? You're too inexperienced to know what you want.'

‘You have betrayed me,' he said, his anger rising. ‘The farm was mine and we could have all stayed here. Now Mr Titterton wants it and Henrietta and I, and Phoeba, are cast aside.'

‘No,' she whispered, ‘I did it for you, for a guiding hand. Mr Titterton has means, he will build the new house …'

He gently took her hands from his shoulders.

Phoeba drove to the church squeezed between her parents, a rug over their knees and gloved fingers over their ears. It was cold for February, even though the sun was full and bright. Her teeth chattered, her porridge churned in her stomach, her feet were sweating in their boots and she felt disappointed when Spot trotted straight through the intersection without even a sideways glance at the dam. For the first time, the vicar's horse was tethered in the shade.

Spot pulled up as usual under the peppercorns next to the Hampden. Hadley wasn't waiting, so Robert helped Maude from the sulky. The sulky, unburdened of her bulk, sprang and rocked.

The walk across the yard to the door went far too quickly. Inside, the church was dusty. Cobwebs laced the pews and the floor was scattered with straw from the birds' nests on the beams. Sparrows darted overhead.

Hadley's face lit up when he saw her at the end of the aisle. Henrietta, her cheeks rosy from the chilly drive, beamed at Phoeba and waved. She and Hadley wore gum flowers on their breasts and together, Hadley and Henrietta took one long step to the altar.

Hadley's hands were stiff in his tight leather gloves, his striped worsted trousers pressed lovingly to a razor crease by Henrietta and his wool coat steamed until it was shiny. He assumed his serious expression and a fond, caring feeling swamped Phoeba and she wondered when he had changed. Why hadn't she noticed? He had ‘filled out', as her mother would say, his ranginess had thickened to firm, strong limbs and a long, deep back.

She had strong desire just to go home. She had always done what everyone expected, and even in defying them by marrying Hadley, she was doing as everyone expected.

But Hadley had cantered up Mount Hope Lane on his tall brown mare, come to her as he had as a freckly ten-year-old, then a peach-faced adolescent, then a sensitive youth. And now, as a gentle, strawberry-haired man, he had rescued her.

She raised her bouquet of gum flowers, wrenched her arm from her father's grasp and went alone to stand between Hadley and Henrietta.

Like Lilith's, this was not a moving ceremony. When the vicar said, ‘Keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live,' Phoeba looked into Hadley's sincere face and said, ‘I will' as if she'd just been asked to feed the chickens on her way past the coop. Hadley mispronounced her name as ‘Phoebe' and struggled with his vows because his mouth was very dry. Just as he was about to place the ring on her finger a bird flew in and splattered Mrs Titterton's green bonnet with bird dirt. She squeaked. The plain gold ring slipped from Hadley's slickly gloved fingers and fell to the floor with a small ping. Proceedings halted while the two Pearsons searched on their hands and knees between the pews. Henrietta found it, wedged against a knee-rest with dry flies, grain seeds and dusty fluff, and Hadley and Phoeba became man and wife in the eyes of God and the law.

Mrs Flynn cried, ‘Whacko!' and threw bruised geranium petals at Hadley. They settled on his shoulders and in his hair.

In the churchyard, lit by silver sunshine through the white clouds, Henrietta passed Hadley a cylindrical leather case with a small flourish and he presented his wedding gift to his new wife. It was a pair of binoculars. He pecked her on the lips then – but not for the first time. He had kissed her just like that once before, but she was twelve at the time and he was ten.

There seemed to be a general sigh in the air, a sort of resigned acceptance, as they made their way to the siding. Robert dropped in to Mrs Flynn's and collected his newspapers.

Mrs Titterton and Maude, her face as stunned as a barn owl under a gas lamp, stood at either end of the siding, separated by their husbands and children, all looking south to Geelong and the noon train like luckless punters watching the starting flag for the last race.

Phoeba and her new husband and sister-in-law didn't speak, didn't meet even let their eyes meet. The silence hung between them.

Maude pulled her shawl close and said, ‘I suppose the coming autumn will be wretched and bring no rain with it.'

‘Rain is the last thing we need for the grapes,' muttered Robert, and no one attempted to speak again, so Robert opened his newspaper:
RABBITS REACH PLAGUE PROPORTIONS IN NEW SOUTH WALES. ONE HUNDRED RABBITS TO EVERY ACRE
. When the train appeared – a steaming monster rolling out of the horizon – Phoeba felt a burden leave her. ‘The future,' she said, but at once a dread descended and she hoped with all her heart that the choices she had made would be bearable.

The others shrugged, tidied their lapels, rubbed their cold hands. Maude pulled her shawl tighter again and Mrs Titterton teetered in her slight heels. Mr Titterton held her. Robert cleared his throat and Phoeba waited for him to insist she stay, to say he'd send Marius and Lilith to Melbourne, anything – but he just clutched Phoeba's hand, squeezing it until it hurt, and said, his voice cracking, ‘Well, old thing, you'll write, won't you?'

She removed her hand.

The train sounded its long, loud whistle and suddenly Maude sobbed, ‘I shall miss you, Phoeba,' as if it had only just occurred to her.

The smell of burning coal, steam and engine oil engulfed them. Smoke clouded the noisy black engine, the wheels went thunk and the brakes screeched.

No one saw Mrs Titterton crumble, but in the din, as the train exhaled and shuddered, Henrietta heard her mother's little squeak and turned. She was hidden behind Mr Titterton but as she buckled towards the edge of the platform Henrietta shouted and lunged, knocking her stepfather aside. The train lurched to a standstill and the doors were flung open just as she pulled at her mother, wrenching her so that she flipped over. She landed on her side on the platform, her small head bouncing once on a rough sleeper. There was a sound, like something snapping inside a cushion and Mrs Titterton lay on her side, flailing her tiny arms like an up-turned beetle, her skin turning purple. She stared up at her husband and reached out with her pleated, maroon fingers, but no sound came from her mouth.

‘Shit,' said Robert.

‘Help me, that's what she's saying,' said Mr Titterton standing perfectly still.

‘No,' said Hadley, kneeling. ‘Mother no.'

A small patch of blood grew on her bodice, just above her waist, and there, poking through the torn, green material of her new dress, was a snapped steel corset stay. It was rusty, the pink material of her corset perished and brown around it.

A crowd was gathering. The emaciated guard, the decrepit mailman, and some passengers who held parasols to shade her.

‘She can't die here, not now,' hissed Maude, indignantly. Phoeba and Henrietta stood holding hands, speechless, looking down at the injured woman among their hems.

‘Perhaps we will have to stay,' thought Phoeba.

‘At least get her to the Hampden,' urged Maude. The guard and some passengers helped Hadley and Mr Titterton take the wounded woman, like a shot sparrow, to the Hampden.

‘It's only a wound,' said Mr Titterton. ‘It'll mend.'

‘Something snapped,' said Hadley.

‘A corset stay,' said Henrietta, hastily, and Phoeba felt Henrietta start to tremble. ‘I didn't mean to hurt her.'

‘Of course not,' said Hadley.

Mr Titterton grabbed Henrietta by the arm, ‘You'll have to stay and nurse her.'

The guard dragged his watch from his waistcoat and checked the time. The passengers started to climb back into the carriages.

‘I won't stay,' said Henrietta, and crossed her arms.

‘We'll all stay with you, won't we Hadley?' said Phoeba, her voice a little too shrill.

Hadley looked directly at Phoeba. ‘Henrietta will have to nurse her.'

It took a full heartbeat for her to understand. She put her bag down. ‘We'll wait until she's better.'

‘We have to go—'

‘Henrietta must come —'

‘Later, yes.'

Phoeba and Henrietta stood frozen, but Phoeba's mind was racing. If she stayed she would break Hadley's heart, and she would have to wait on a mother, a sister, a brother-in-law and, in very short time, a baby. If she went she would be without Henrietta. There was a pain – she might have inhaled a handful of barber's razors for its sharpness. Her heart was labouring and her breath coming in short gasps. Hadley stood up and took her bag. ‘The contract for my job is signed, Phoeba. We have to go.'

‘Why can't Mr Titterton look after your mother?'

‘I'd have to sell the farm to pay for a nursing home,' said Mr Titterton. ‘It isn't necessary. The girl pulled her mother too hard.'

‘She was falling in front of the train,' said Henrietta, bunching her skirt in agony.

Hadley put his hand around her shoulder. ‘You saved her, Henri, you saved her.'

There was just one moment while the train huffed and a carriage window slammed shut, that Hadley, Phoeba and Henrietta looked at each other and thought, how everything would have been different if she hadn't.

‘I'll send a telegraph to Doctor Mueller,' said Mr Titterton heading for the shop.

‘Good,' said Maude, smoothing her gloves, ‘he can see to Marius's foot.'

Phoeba looked at her father. He stared back at her, silent, and she thought she heard Lilith say, ‘You have made your bed.'

‘Phoeba, please, the train—' said Hadley, and the guard blew his whistle.

‘Wait,' said her mother, and Phoeba's heart quickened. Her mother was going to forbid her from going to the wilderness; she would send Lilith away instead. ‘You must take the Collector. If Hadley is away with his sheep you must have some protection.'

Phoeba crossed her arms and looked over at Spot, his head high, his ears sharp and forward as he stared at her from the churchyard. ‘I won't go without Spot.' It didn't make sense, but it was all she could think of.

Hadley said, gently, ‘There's no time just now,' and held his hand out to her.

It was all wrong. Henrietta was supposed to come.

‘I'll send Spot,' said Robert, trying to be helpful. ‘I'll go and see Mrs Flynn later and book his passage.'

Her father took her hands in his again, held them tight, and made her look into his rheumy eyes. ‘Almost everything you will ever be was taught to you from this place and it will always be here for you.'

She looked at them evenly; her father the betrayer, her fat mother in a tight brown dress and a hat the size of a pillow. At home her pretty sister would be pouting over her costumed husband, like an actor in a rural play. She never wanted to see them ever again.

She reached for Henrietta and as they held each other fast Henrietta's voice came into her ear above the rumbling of the engine and the spurting steam. ‘We will see each other when one of us is free. And I will always love you both, no matter what.'

Then, as she turned to the train, Phoeba vowed that she would make a satisfying life. She would create a worthwhile future – a good life, and when she was old she would look back and say, I did my best.

Phoeba whispered to her teary friend, ‘You'll be free one day,' then let her go and turned to the train. She reached out to Hadley and left Henrietta standing on the small wooden platform, her skirt still screwed in her hands.

Henrietta watched until the train was a black smear in the distance and then drove carefully towards Elm Grove. Mr Titterton cradled her whimpering mother in the back seat. At the intersection she reined in the horse. The thistles scratched together in the breeze and two eagles circled above the dam.

Maude and Robert were sitting in the sulky, up to its axle in muddy water. In front of them knelt Spot, brown muddy water lapping his shoulders, his eyes closed and his nose high, like the monster in Loch Ness.

Epilogue

T
he young woman pulled her motor vehicle up at the railway crossing and looked about her. She wore dark glasses and a large straw hat secured with a wide scarf and her passenger, a young man with spectacles, clung to the dashboard. The vehicle was dark blue with a golden ‘O' painted on the small door.

‘Why have you stopped, Roberta?' said the young man. ‘There's nothing here.'

‘As my dear departed Grandmaudie would say; nonsense.' She stood up behind the wheel and cried, ‘Just look about you!'

Beyond the beach, which was actually just a salty slice of seaside mud, the bay glittered and the smokestacks on ships sliding out through the heads left plumes of smoke across the clear sky. It was low tide and the jetty pylons jutted from the mudflats, like thin legs without trousers.

Roberta gestured inland to a gathering of boulders on top of a big, bushy ridge. ‘Up there, above the vines, is Mount Hope,' she said, and the young man turned to inspect the neat weatherboard nestled at the base of the outcrop. Around it, acres of grapevines covered every slope, like a green chenille blanket.

‘The vines are Mother's,' said Roberta, ‘but my Aunt Lilith and my Uncle Marius live in the house and their children, all six of my cousins, were born there. You'll meet everyone this afternoon. We all gather at the homestead for the ploughing match.'

Roberta tooted the horn and waved to a tall, broad woman on the railway station reading a newspaper. The headline screamed,
WAR LOOMS
. The woman looked up and saluted, then flung a long, thick grey plait over her shoulder.

‘That's Aunt Henri,' said Roberta. ‘She runs the railway station and the shop. Dad bought it for her when he made all his money on the ram emasculator. He bought himself Overton, and over that outcrop, there are thousands of first-class sheep.'

‘I hate sheep,' said the young man.

‘As far as I'm concerned there's nothing more pleasing than a mob of first-class merinos with fine bright fleeces, closely crimped and three inches deep,' declared Roberta, and leaned down to kiss the young man's cheek. ‘And my brother runs the winery so you needn't go anywhere near a sheep. You can just stay in the office with your sums and balances and your adding machine. As soon they can, my parents will retire to the manager's house with Aunt Henri. They'll rattle around together until they all join my grandparents in the family plot at the outcrop.'

Roberta threw her arms open wide. ‘There is everything here for me. What about you?'