To Chase the Storm: The Frontier Series 4 (10 page)

‘That is very wise, Patrick. I know they are confused by all that has happened in the last few days.’

‘Fenella has told me that her mother said they would join her in Europe in a year,’ Patrick said. ‘It seems she failed to mention that they would be joining her and her lover,’ he added bitterly. ‘That will not happen so long as I am alive.’

‘And if, God forbid, something should happen to you, I promise that they will never do so, so long as I am alive,’ his grandmother flashed.

Patrick smiled at Enid’s fierce loyalty. Her formidable nature may have been locked inside a body in its ninth decade, but the power she could still muster was ageless. She was certainly a long way from dead and buried.

NINE

‘H
ave you finished in there yet?’ Arthur called to Matthew.

‘Yes, Mr Thorncroft.’

‘Good. I have some dear friends I would like to introduce you to.’

Matthew clipped the last of the lengths of developed film onto a line and removed his heavy gloves. After washing his hands he pushed back his tousled hair and opened the door of the darkroom. The first thing he saw were two very curious and emerald green eyes staring into his.

‘Mr Matthew Duffy, this is Miss Fenella Macintosh,’ Arthur said. Matthew tried not to stare at the beautiful young girl.

‘And this is Major Duffy, father of Miss Fenella and masters George and Alexander.’

Each boy stepped forward and shook Matthew’s
hand without saying a word. Arthur continued directing Matthew’s attention to a tall, well-built man wearing the khaki uniform of a New South Wales colonial officer. On his left breast the young man could see the impressive strip of brightly coloured ribands that marked his campaigns in previous wars. His Sam Browne belt and riding boots were highly polished and reflected the spring sunshine that poured through the stained glass windows of the living room. Surely this must be my famous cousin, Matthew thought as he took the major’s extended hand. He looked so much like the photographs he had seen of his Uncle Michael Duffy.

‘Major Duffy has come at Miss Macintosh’s insistence to see our studio, Matthew,’ Arthur explained.

Matthew felt his face flush for no apparent reason other than the presence of the young woman only feet away. He felt foolish at his uncontrolled reaction and hoped Fenella had not noticed. ‘Are you interested in moving pictures, Miss Macintosh?’ Matthew asked, attempting to hide his awkwardness. Her answering smile made him feel just a little light-headed.

‘Although my daughter is only fourteen years of age,’ Patrick complained affectionately, ‘she thinks she is already starring in one of Mr Thorncroft’s moving pictures. I believe her interest is the stage rather than the technicalities of your craft, Mr Duffy.’

‘Mr Thorncroft believes that moving pictures will one day make ordinary people into famous ones,’ Matthew replied with some pride.

‘I also believe that moving pictures will make people famous,’ Fenella added. ‘And one day I will be one of those famous people.’

Matthew did not doubt that what this beautiful and self-assured young woman said would come true. Suddenly it dawned on him that in all likelihood Fenella was his cousin.

‘Mr Thorncroft has informed me that you have a great interest in enlisting in the Bushmen’s Rifles and going to South Africa,’ Patrick interjected.

‘Yes, sir. I came down from Queensland to sign up.’

‘Why didn’t you enlist in Queensland?’ Patrick asked and Matthew was quick to note the dangerous question.

‘The contingent had all the volunteers they needed,’ he replied quickly. ‘They suggested that I should try down in New South Wales.’

Fenella cast him an approving look at his declaration of patriotism and he felt pleased that he had gained her esteem.

‘Do you have any relatives in Sydney?’ Patrick continued. ‘As we share a name I thought that we may be related.’

‘My family went to Queensland directly from Ireland,’ Matthew lied, feeling uneasy under the scrutiny of the famed colonial soldier and praying that his fear of revelation was not showing in his face.

Patrick nodded, apparently satisfied by his answer. Then Arthur spoke, breaking the tension Matthew was experiencing.

‘Maybe you would like to show Miss Macintosh and masters Macintosh around, Matthew, while
I have a talk to the major. You know enough after two weeks here to explain all that we do.’

Matthew nodded. He was grateful to be out of Major Duffy’s presence.

While Patrick followed Arthur outside to the privacy of the garden Matthew took the three Macintosh children into the darkroom where he cautioned against touching anything as the chemicals were dangerous. Showing them outside to a shed where the cameras and other equipment were kept, Matthew spoke using the technical language he had picked up from his mentor. He was a quick learner and Arthur had been pleased with the work of his new assistant, especially as Ralph had recently left to visit his family in South Australia for a time. While continuing his demonstrations and explanations, Matthew took every opportunity to steal glances at Fenella. She, in turn, acted as aloofly as a young lady should whenever she caught him doing so.

Her brothers were quick to notice their sister’s strange behaviour, however; she would be in for some teasing when they got home. Matthew had taken a dislike to George. He had caught the boy sneering behind his back at the idea that moving pictures might one day be an industry. But there was also something else about the boy that Matthew did not like. Possibly it was in the way he dominated his younger brother. But Matthew liked Alexander. He seemed a curious and genuinely interested boy.

After the three Macintosh siblings had departed with their father, Arthur informed Matthew that they had been invited to afternoon tea with Lady
Enid Macintosh the very next afternoon. Matthew tried to look indifferent. Asking as casually as he could if Miss Macintosh would also be in attendance, Arthur grinned widely and replied, ‘No doubt she will be, Matthew.’

The afternoon tea was intended as a farewell function for Lady Enid’s grandson who would depart on a coastal steamer for Brisbane the following day. Major Patrick Duffy’s friends and family would not see him again for at least a year – if ever.

Enid had invited only a handful of Patrick’s closest friends to share the magnificent spring afternoon in the beautifully manicured garden. The afternoon was intended to be gay with laughter. However, it was subdued in a way that made Enid wish she had not sent the invitations.

The men talked of the shock reverses the British army was suffering at the hands of the Boers, an army better equipped in artillery and small arms than the British had expected. Modern artillery pieces from Germany were blasting holes in the stolid ranks of British infantry while the latest in small arms technology, the Mauser rifle, was being employed to fire a smokeless cartridge. It gave unseen marksmen the deadly ability to fight and flee – and the cold steel of the British bayonet was proving no match. In all, the news being telegraphed to the world painted a picture as bleak as any known to the Empire in many a year, and it was to the Boer-dominated
kopjes
and
veldt
that Major Patrick Duffy was going.

Matthew did not feel out of place amongst the important guests at Lady Macintosh’s afternoon tea. As one of the wealthiest people in the Colony of Queensland, with holdings in mines, pastoral properties, transport and numerous other enterprises, his own mother had often hosted such functions and entertained equally as important people at their home in Townsville.

The suit purchased for him only that morning by Arthur fitted Matthew well. He had accepted Arthur’s kind gesture on the understanding that he would pay it off out of his wages over a period of time. It was ironic when he remembered the suits that he had left hanging in wardrobes at his home in Townsville. But, as he reminded himself, he was no longer Matthew Tracy. He was now Matthew Duffy and his real identity must remain a secret if he was to be successful in enlisting.

Upon introduction to her, Matthew’s impeccable manners impressed Lady Enid. Alone in the company of Arthur, she complimented him on his choice of an assistant. ‘I hope he is nothing more than your assistant in your work, Captain Thorncroft,’ she said sternly, fixing him with a steely stare.

‘Nothing more, Lady Macintosh,’ Arthur replied with feigned shock.

After his introduction, Matthew looked around for Fenella. He finally found her under a marquee on the lawn in the company of a tall young man, about sixteen years of age and dressed in the clothes of one born to wealth. From a short distance away Matthew thought that Fenella’s companion paid an undue
interest in her. He waited impatiently until the boy was called away before making his approach.

‘Can I fetch you a glass of lemonade or a buttermilk, Miss Macintosh?’ he asked. Fenella shook her head, looking up at him from under a delicate sunbonnet. ‘Mr Bryant is looking after me, Mr Duffy,’ she replied sweetly.

‘Is Mr Bryant that bloke you were talking to?’ he glowered, unthinkingly using a term he had picked up from his workmates on the building site. ‘Bloke’ was not good English.

‘That
bloke
,’ Fenella said teasingly, ‘is the son of one of the wealthiest families in Sydney, Mr Duffy. Some day he and I shall marry.’

‘I thought you were going to be in moving pictures,’ he muttered, before her smile confirmed that he had stumbled into her trap.

‘Yes, I shall be famous first, then I shall marry,’ she said. ‘Or possibly I shall not marry at all.’

‘Well, it doesn’t matter to me either way what you do. I’m off to South Africa as soon as I can join up.’

Matthew’s retort, delivered with a shrug of his shoulders, brought a response he did not expect. He felt Fenella’s hand on his and a sudden shift in her mood. She did not say anything but turned and walked quickly away from the guests in the garden towards a winding path that led down to the edge of the harbour through a blaze of brightly flowering shrubs.

Confused, Matthew stood for some moments before following. He found her sitting on a wooden pier that jutted into the harbour, feet dangled over
the edge and long skirt drawn towards her knees, exposing milky white legs. She stared across the blue waters at the ships moving slowly towards the twin sandstone heads that acted as the gateposts to the harbour.

As Matthew sat down beside her he could see that she was crying and felt a strong urge to put his arm around her shoulders.

‘I’m sorry if I said something to upset you,’ he said softly, watching the tiny silver fish flash beneath their feet in the water.

Fenella wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘It’s just that Father sails away from us tomorrow and Mother has already gone. I don’t know if I will ever see either again and I’m frightened.’

‘Your father is a good soldier. He will come back.’

‘And Mother?’ Fenella asked sadly. ‘Will she come back to us?’

‘I don’t know, Miss Macintosh. I did not know that she had gone away.’

‘No-one speaks of her anymore,’ Fenella continued bitterly. ‘It is as if she never existed. All I know is that she told us she would only be gone for a year to do something important in Ireland. But if it was that important why didn’t Father go with her?’

‘I don’t know,’ Matthew replied helplessly.

All he knew of Fenella’s mother was what he had been told by his own: that she was an Irish beauty distantly related to the family on her own side. He wished now that he had asked more but such matters of faraway family relationships bore little interest to a young man.

‘Would your father not be with your mother if something was that important?’ she asked with a little sob.

‘My father is dead. He died when I was born,’ Matthew said flatly. ‘I never knew him . . . just about him.’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Duffy. It must have been hard for your mother.’

‘It was. I think she still loves him even though he has been dead for over fourteen years.’

‘But that would only make you a year older than me,’ Fenella replied in a puzzled tone. ‘Mr Thorncroft said you were eighteen.’

Matthew blushed furiously. He had tripped himself up!

‘You have been telling lies about your age,’ Fenella continued in an accusing tone that caused him to squirm.

Matthew did not know how to reply.

‘Is Matthew Duffy really your name? Or are you telling lies about that also?’

‘My name is Matthew but I cannot tell you my real family name. All I can do is beg you not to tell anyone what you know of my age,’ he pleaded. ‘It is important that I get in the army. The most important thing in my life. It is something I must do for my father who I never knew. Please keep my secret.’

As Fenella stared at him he could see doubt in her eyes. Was it all over? Would she tell her father and all would then be revealed? His life hung on the tiny thread that was a young girl’s whim. ‘I will not tell
anyone, Matthew. I think that you are one of the most remarkable young men that I have ever met.’

‘Even more remarkable than your Mr Bryant?’ Matthew asked with a sheepish grin.

‘Even more remarkable than that silly young man. He is not half as brave as you.’

Then she leant over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Matthew sat stunned until Fenella swung herself away from the edge of the pier, stood up and brushed down her dress. He pushed himself up to stand beside her. Without a word she placed her hand in his and together they walked up the winding path. When they reached the top and were almost in sight of the guests she let his hand go as if nothing had occurred between them. But Matthew was in love for the first time in his life.

A NEW
CENTURY
1900

TEN

T
he hot, still summer air over the African
veldt
shimmered ahead of the outriders from the column as they fanned out along the high ground that rose up into a cluster of rocks that the Boers called
kopjes
. Private Saul Rosenblum no longer felt the sweat that continuously covered his body under his heavy khaki tunic. Nor was the exhaustion of the forced march to Bloemfontein a consideration. It was something that he had long learned to live with over the four months he had campaigned in South Africa.