A Greater World (22 page)

'Aye. I'm not comfortable hearing that kind of talk, Miss Kidd.'

'It's all right for you. You're not affected. It's disgusting. What kind of woman is happy to marry an old man like my Pa? It's not normal. It's obvious she's after his money.'

'I don't think this is something we should be talking about.' He looked around desperately.

'Do you like the moving pictures?'

'Doesn't everyone?'

'Mebbe we could go together some time? If your father's all right with it. P'raps at the weekend? They put a new flick on each week at the picture house. I've not been there before, and I'd be glad to see a good picture meself.'

'Depends what's on. But yes I suppose so.' She was frowning again.

'Not if you don't want to?'

'Does this mean you're courting me, Mr Winterbourne?'

He looked down and swallowed before replying. 'I suppose it does. Is that all right with you?'

She shrugged. 'I said I'd go with you, didn't I?'

Then the frown transformed into a radiant smile and she put her arm through his and steered him towards the crowd at the bandstand.

'Yes, Mr Winterbourne, it's quite all right with me.'

They went to see a cowboy film. It was pretty tame stuff, Michael thought. Mexican bandits were never as scary as Indians, but in the dark of the theatre he could hear the indrawn breath of women as they clung onto the arms of their beaus in feigned or real fear. He wondered whether it was a ploy to permit closer physical contact? If so, it was one which Harriet didn't use. She sat bolt upright, eyes fixed on the screen, absorbed in the story.

Michael enjoyed the picture, apart from the scene when Tom Mix's character told the woman he loved
"I aint fit to graze in the same pasture as you, so I'm saying goodbye."
It made him think of himself and Elizabeth. Real life was so different from the moving pictures. The cowboy had got his girl in the end: she'd driven in her fancy car to save him from execution by paying his ransom.

When they emerged, Harriet put her arm through his as they walked back to Kinross House.

'Suffering coyotes! That was a bore!' she said.

'I like Tom Mix better when he's got a few Indians to contend with.'

'I hate cowboy pictures. All of them.'

'You should have said. We could have gone another time when there was summat else on.'

She spoke sneeringly. 'It was a ludicrous story. Poor cowboy marries rich rancher's daughter. She should have had more sense. And it's a shame those Mexican bandits didn't get to
"keel"
him after all.'

He was surprised by the harshness of her verdict and said, 'It's just a bit of fun. The flicks always have a happy ending. You wouldn't really want it to have ended sadly, would you? You wouldn't have wanted him to be shot?'

'Life doesn't have happy endings – why should the pictures?'

'That's a cynical view for a young woman.'

'Don't patronise me, Mr Winterbourne.' Her voice was slightly shrill and she jerked her arm out of his.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend. It were just that I'm disappointed you didn't have a better time.' He wished he'd never agreed to Kidd's plan. It was never going to work between them.

She countered. 'Did I say that? I just said it was a ludicrous story. I didn't say I didn't have a nice time.' She turned her face towards his and gave him a smile that would have melted the heart of a Mexican bandit and slipped her arm into his again.

Just before they reached Kinross House, she stepped out of the reach of the streetlight into the shadow of a gum tree, pulling Michael with her. She lifted her face to his and kissed him on the mouth. He was taken by surprise and found himself kissing her back but, just as quickly, she pulled away from him.

'I wanted to get that out of the way. I didn't want to have the prospect hanging between us and us both wondering when it would happen,' she said.

He ran his hand through his hair and stared at her.

She pressed on, her voice brisk and businesslike. 'You know what I mean don't you? You were probably thinking
Do I? Don't I? What will she think if I do?
And I was wondering is he going to kiss me or not? And I hate not knowing what's going to happen next.'

'I see.'

'You're annoyed aren't you?'

'Mebbe. A bit. It's not very romantic to reduce it to that.'

'Romance is tosh!' Then seeing his frown, she added, 'I suppose you're going to say I'm cynical, aren't you?'

'I wouldn't dream of it. I wouldn't dare!' he laughed bitterly.

'You need to understand, if we're going to be courting, I like to know what's coming next. I hate surprises,' she said, and then giving him a little wave, she ran into the driveway of Kinross House.

There was a good turnout for the annual colliers' cricket match, with the miners up against a team of railway workers. A large crowd spilled out of the Lawson Arms to watch the game: anyone with a fondness for cricket or an empty stomach – Kidd was reluctantly keeping up Mr McDonald's tradition of laying on an elaborate picnic, catered by the Queen Alexandra Hotel.

The railwaymen batted first and were all out for 133. Will and Michael sat side by side under the shade of a tree watching the first two members of their team head for the crease.

'We'll likely have a long wait before we get on to bat. Fred Burton's red-hot,' Will said. 'He may be getting on a bit now but he's a hard man to shift and he'll hit a few sixes I reckon.'

'Who's the other lad. Not seen him at the mine before.'

'Bruce Walker's eldest. Works in the post office at Katoomba. Pretty good cricketer too.'

'I'll bet you're handy with a bat yourself, Will? You did a good job fielding. Two out and I swear the umpire should have given LBW against the fat chap with the red hair.'

'Yeah I was robbed, mate! I could spit chips. You weren't so bad yourself. You ran the fat bastard out.'

'Come on, mate. Me granny could've run that fella out. He were nobbut a big lump of blubber.'

The crowd clapped as Fred Burton smashed a ball over the boundary. Will said, 'You getting serious about Hat, Michael?'

Michael rolled a cigarette, taking his time to answer. 'Yer old man wants us to get hitched.'

'What do you want, mate?'

'To be honest, Will, I don't know.'

'Mate, it'd be bonzer if you were in the family. But I can't say as I'd blame you if you weren't game for taking Hat on.'

Michael laughed and drew on his cigarette. I have to get married some time. I could do a lot worse than her. She's a very pretty girl.'

'Maybe. When she's a mind to be. But she can put a grim face on and act as miserable as a bandicoot on a burnt ridge. Half the time she looks like she's swallowed poison.'

'Give the lass a break. She's yer sister!'

'Doesn't feel like it, mate. We've lived apart for years. She's like a stranger to me. I'm closer to Lizbeth. I can talk to her about anything. She's...'

Michael interrupted him and pinched his cigarette out. 'Harriet's young. I'm not sure she'd have an old fella like me anyway.'

'You're not old! You're my cobber and I'm younger than she is!'

'Eleven years is a big gap. She'd be better with a lad her own age.'

'Pa doesn't think so. He's encouraging it. And look at him and Lizbeth.'

Back to her again. It always led back to her. He decided to stay with it. It cut him to the core every time he saw her with Kidd but if he were to marry Hattie that would be happening all the time, so he might as well confront his demons.

'You reckon they're happy?'

'The old man and Lizbeth? Can't imagine so. He's never happy about anything. He's like Hat. But I can't think how anyone could fail to be happy married to Elizabeth. She's so beautiful. She's kind. She's friendly. She's clever. She's...'

'Alright, I get the picture.'

The boy shrugged. 'Don't know what she saw in Pa enough to marry him. It was strange. She just showed up from nowhere. Pa's always been a dark horse, but marrying her took the biscuit. And our Hat's horrible to her. She won't even give her a G'day. Miserable cow.' He realised he might have overstepped the mark and quickly added, 'Sorry mate. I know she's your girl and all. But then she is my sister so I s'pose I can!'

Michael laughed and cuffed him lightly on the arm. The crowd erupted as Fred Burton hit another six.

On the far side of the pitch Elizabeth brushed a fly from her arm and glanced at her watch. She'd always found cricket boring and was not happy that Kidd had insisted on her presence this afternoon. There was no sign of him. He was doubtless holed up in the beer tent. It seemed he had even less interest in the game than she had.

Harriet had pleaded a headache and Kidd for once had let her stay at home so Elizabeth was on her own today. It meant she was able to read surreptitiously: her handbag was open, ready to accommodate the volume should Kidd emerge and she need to conceal it. She didn't want him angry that she was showing disrespect to the players or have him sneer about her desire to lose herself in a book. Now and then she looked up from the pages and swept her eyes around the pitch to keep a general sense of what was going on. Cricket reminded her of Stephen and that summer before the war when she'd often sat on the boundary pretending to watch him play, while chatting to her friends.

A roar from the spectators and the cry of 'Howzat!' signalled a dismissal and she looked up to see a new batsman making his way to the crease. He was tall and she noted his broad shoulders and narrow hips and easy, confident stride. His sleeves were rolled up and the tanned skin on his arms stood out against his cricket whites. When he turned at the wicket and pushed the hair back from his eyes, she realised it was Michael Winterbourne. She picked up her book and tried to force herself to read. Damn him! How could he still do this to her? But the words on the page might as well have been hieroglyphics, so she put the book down and started to watch.

Michael and the Walker boy made a formidable pairing and the runs kept coming. Elizabeth was soon hooked by the action on the field. She found herself jumping out of the deckchair as Michael hit yet another ball over the boundary. The noise of the crowd penetrated the beer tent and a group of men, including Jack Kidd, came out, pints in their hands, to watch the play.

Will never got his chance to bat. The Winterbourne-Walker double act proved impossible to get out and as the sun began to sink, the umpire declared the miners the victors, 226 for the loss of just one wicket. His teammates gathered round Michael, clapping him on the back before ushering him into the beer tent for a cold beer. Kidd took Elizabeth by the arm and steered her towards a table close to the tent. 'You can hand the trophies over.'

'What?' Her jaw dropped.

'A cup for the team and a medal for each player.'

'I can't do that!'

'Shake each bloke by the hand and give him his medal and hand the cup to Fred Burton for the team.'

'But I don't know what to say! I haven't prepared a speech.'

'Who's asked you to make a bloody speech. They don't want to waste drinking time listening to you! Give them a big pearly grin, shake their paws and hand over their medals.'

Mortified, she stood behind the table as the men lined up to collect the spoils, Michael and Will at the back of the line. As she lifted the large silver cup and presented it to the captain, she saw a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye. Harriet ran onto the green clutching her straw hat to her head. She headed straight to Michael. The pair began to talk and Harriet flung her arms around him. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the forehead then slipped his arm around her waist proprietorially. Elizabeth felt sick to the pit of her stomach.

Chapter Seventeen – Confrontation

Will was lying on his back on the drawing room floor, while Mikey happily bounced around on his stomach.

'I hate it here, Lizbeth. I want to go back to Wilton's Creek.'

'Did you talk to your father?'

Will gave her shamefaced look. 'I bottled out. I told you I was chicken.'

'Oh, Will. If you can't bear it you must speak to him.'

'Don't get me wrong - I like all the fellas - especially Michael. He's a good mate and the other blokes are all right most of the time, but I can't stand not seeing the sky for so long. And I can't stop thinking about the tunnel caving in. I know it's daft, and I've really tried, but I can't help it.'

'Does your father mind going underground?'

'He's the same as me. Hates the darkness and misses the sky, but he doesn't have to go down if he doesn't choose to and he does it less and less, now he's got Michael to do so much.'

'Does Mr Winterbourne like being in the mine?'

'Nah! He hates it too. He likes being outdoors - being in the bush, in the fresh air. He used to work down a lead mine in England, so he's used to it, and he earns loads more money, now Pa's made him his deputy.'

'I see.'

'Not that he spends it. He sends most of it home to his folks back in England.'

'That's very creditable.'

'He won't have to worry about money soon. Pa'll see him right when he marries our Hat.'

Elizabeth almost choked on her cup of tea.

'Didn't you know that's the plan? Pa wants them to get hitched and then move in here and you and he and Mikey's going to move back out to Wilton's Creek.'

'What?' She put the cup down, spilling a large quantity into the saucer.

'Hasn't he told you?'

'No he hasn't. And what do Hattie and Mr Winterbourne think of this plan? I presume I'm the only one not party to all these arrangements?'

'I don't think Hattie knows either. Michael wasn't too happy at first, her being such a moody cow, but I think he's going along with it now. She seems to be on her best behaviour with him. All smiles and sweetness.

'I'll be made up to have him as a brother-in-law. I want to go back to Wilton's Creek with you and Pa and Mikey though. Could you ask Pa for me? He's more likely to listen to you. He says the mine is good experience for me, but I don't know what for? He'll never put me in charge – and I couldn't handle it if he did. Ask him will you, Lizbeth?'

She nodded distractedly. 'So Michael, er Mr Winterbourne, has agreed to marry Harriet?'

'He hasn't asked her yet but he's going to soon. Pa wants it sorted soon as possible. He wants to get out of town.'

'Does he?'

'Won't be much fun for you out there in the bush with just Pa and Mikey. If I could come too it would be bonzer.'

She thought about the prospect of Michael Winterbourne becoming a close relative. Her son-in-law for heaven's sake. Isolation in a shack in the bush would be preferable to living at Kinross House with Michael and Harriet under the same roof.

She waited until they were in bed. Kidd had just climbed in beside her and was stretching a hand out to lift her nightgown, when Elizabeth drew away from him. 'We need to talk.'

'Talk away.' He yawned and rolled towards her, again making to lift the hem of her nightgown.

Elizabeth pulled herself upright and drew her knees up in front of her. 'I understand you're planning for Harriet to marry your foreman.'

'That's right.'

'I don't think it's a suitable match. Harriet's had a good education and can do better than a mining foreman. I think she...'

He interrupted her. 'I don't care what you think. She's my daughter and I've made up my mind. She'll wed Mick Winterbourne.'

'What does Harriet think of this plan? Or haven't you seen fit to share it with her?'

'We'll bide our time till the lad asks her. They've not long been courting.'

'And is Mr Winterbourne aware that you expect him to marry your daughter?'

'He is.'

'He agrees?'

'He does.'

'It's preposterous!'

'You and your long words.'

'He's come from nowhere. We know nothing of him and his family. How can you marry off Harriet to him like this?'

'This is Australia. We don't fret too much about people's family history. Now are you finished with your damn questions?'

'And we're to live in Wilton's Creek?'

'Who's told you that? You afraid of scrubbing floors again?"

'I'm not afraid of hard work. I'm just not relishing the prospect of being stuck in the middle of nowhere. I don't want Mikey growing up like a savage. He'll be lonely out there. Miles away from town.'

'We'll just have to make sure he has a brother or sister won't we? That'll be company and occupation for both of you. It isn't going to happen if you sit there like a bloody statue with your legs crossed. It's time you gave me a child of my own.' He put his hands on her hips and pulled her back down the bed.

Elizabeth stood at the bedroom window, a cup of tea in her hand, looking at the garden below. Will and Michael Winterbourne were kicking a flabby leather ball, while Mikey wobbled unsteadily between them, trying to intercept it, but failing, then toppling over and landing on his bottom. Each time, before the tears could start, either one picked the child up and set him back on his chubby legs, causing the incipient tears to turn to laughter, until another tumble set the cycle off again.

She watched, entranced. Neither Will nor Michael showed any sign of impatience: they teased and encouraged the little boy by turns. Mikey for his part was overjoyed at being the centre of attention and threw himself exuberantly into the game.

Michael feinted as Mikey ran towards him at speed, falling as though mortally wounded. He lay on his back motionless. Will gave a theatrical cry. Mikey looked bewildered, then teetered unsteadily over to the motionless body of the man, his face puzzled. As he arrived, Michael burst back to life and grappled the little boy, tumbling him into his arms and lifting him into the air. The child chortled, his momentary fear transformed into joy: a privileged participant in an exciting grown-up game.

This was a side of Michael Winterbourne that Elizabeth had never seen before: exuberant and playful. The two men now slumped together, breathless, against the garden wall while Mikey tried to pull them back into the game. She thought how things might have been different and she might have been watching Michael Winterbourne play with their own child.

She turned away from the window and slipped her wedding ring off her finger, dropping it into the empty porcelain dish on her dressing table. She pulled open the top drawer and took out a small box covered in faded black velvet. Inside was another ring, her mother's. She slipped it onto her finger and went back to the window. The three were still on the lawn: now Will was carrying Mikey on his back, horseback style, while Michael pretended to lead them: holding a thin belt, the other end of which was wound loosely round Will's neck.

As she watched the horseplay, she reflected that this was now her family. A boy, once a stranger, now her stepson; a small child she had never wanted to conceive and had thought to abort but whose very bones she loved; a man she had fallen hopelessly in love with, now to be her son-in-law. And the family she had once had were all gone: parents dead, her sister as good as, and her nieces lost to her for ever. She stood watching until the dinner gong, then she slid her mother's wedding ring off her finger and replaced it with her own, returning her mother's ring to its case and locking the drawer behind it. Taking a deep breath she went down to dinner.

Harriet was slumped in the only armchair in Verity Radley's tiny drawing room. Verity was seated at the small table where she marked her school papers and took her meals. She smiled at Harriet, thinking how pretty the girl looked, despite the heavy frown that marked her brow and broke the smoothness of her marble skin. It was so nice to have her company again: she was lonely without the company of Harriet and somehow diminished by no longer having someone to be responsible for.

'Sit up, Harriet. It's not ladylike to slouch like that.'

The girl sighed. She pulled herself upright and smoothed the front of her dress down where it had started to ride up above her knees.

'I can't take it much longer. I hate her. I don't know how you can bear to talk to her. I hate that you go to visit her rather than me.'

'For goodness sake! I go to visit you both. It saddens me greatly that you won't even enter the room if your stepmother is present.'

'Don't call her that. Not unless you insert the word wicked in front.'

'Harriet!'

'You know I loathe her. I wish she'd take her brat and go back to Sydney or England or whatever place she came from, and stay out of our lives.'

'I don't understand. Elizabeth has been kind to you. She made an effort to befriend you and she has your interests at heart. Why do you dislike her? It pains me that you behave like this towards her.'

'I've told you – she's a fortune hunter. She trapped Pa into marriage and she wants to take the place of my mother. Ma worked hard and never had a penny to her name. Pa was poor when she was alive. Now this woman gets to enjoy his money. She struts around in fancy clothes and does nothing all day except scrape away at the violin and play with her horrible baby. My mother had to take in washing to get by. She should have lived to enjoy Pa's wealth.'

Verity had listened to this diatribe many times before and knew that nothing she could say would make the girl view Elizabeth any differently. 'Don't speak like this behind her back. I won't listen, Harriet. Elizabeth cares about you. She wants the best for you. And she never struts.'

The girl curled her lip and sank back into the depths of the chair.

'Anyway I don't want to talk about her any more either. There's something else I need to tell you. Michael Winterbourne asked me to marry him yesterday.'

'Goodness me, that's wonderful news! Mr Winterbourne has always seemed to me an exceptionally nice man.'

'I've decided to accept his proposal.'

'So you love him!' The teacher clasped her hands together in delight.

'Don't be ridiculous! He's a good-looking man and I do enjoy the fact that half the town is in love with him. But I'm certainly not in love with him myself.'

'Why do you want to marry him?' the older woman spoke nervously.

'He's my ticket out of this town and away from that woman.' She paused and looked away. 'And because she doesn't want me to.'

'She doesn't want you to?'

'She spoke to me yesterday. Said I was too young to be marrying. Told me if I didn't want to go through with it she'd speak to Pa on my behalf. The cheek of the woman. As if I can't speak to my own father!'

'Mr Kidd can be a difficult man.'

'That's nothing to do with it. I know she doesn't want me to marry him. So that's exactly what I'm going to do.'

'Harriet really! That's no basis to accept a marriage proposal. If you don't have feelings for Mr Winterbourne then you mustn't marry him.'

'Of course I can and I will. Besides Pa says I'll get Kinross House and that woman will have to move out with her horrid little child. Pa has promised to settle some money on me, so at last I can do as I like. My problems solved in one stroke! I intend to spend most of my time in Sydney. And the rest of the time I'll be mistress of my own house – the largest house in McDonald Falls. I have such plans!'

'Harriet! Please! And Mr Winterbourne? What does he have to say about living in Sydney? His work is here.'

'He doesn't know yet – but he won't care. He's at the mine most of the time. He'll let me do as I please. I'll stay in the city and he can stay up here. Perfect! He never says much anyway. When he's at the house he talks to Will not me. But then that's like Pa, so it's no change.'

'Does he have feelings for you? It seems cruel to enter into a marriage if you don't share his affections.'

'I don't suppose he cares any more for me than I do for him. I'm sure he thinks I'm pretty and I suppose he reckons he's got a good deal. Pa's promoting him to Mine Manager and giving him a big pay rise. He won't have to live in a nasty little lodging house any more. Not bad for a man no one had even heard of a couple of years ago and didn't have a penny to his name.'

'Harriet I'm shocked at how calculating you sound! It pains me greatly to hear you speak like this. It also saddens me to think of you entering into matrimony for reasons other than true feelings of affection. When I think of how happy I was when my darling Bernard proposed to me...'

'I don't believe in all that romantic tosh. It never lasts. Look at you!'

Verity blushed.

'I don't mean to be cruel, but romance is for fairy tales and the flicks. I'd rather have money and freedom.'