Beyond the Sunset (2 page)

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Authors: Anna Jacobs

Tags: #Australia, #Fiction, #Sagas, #Historical, #english, #Sisters, #Lancashire (England)

BOOK: Beyond the Sunset
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‘Yes, sir. I’ll try my best.’

‘I’m sure you will or I’d not be sending you. Now, you’ll need better clothing than you have at present – no, don’t be embarrassed. In your present position, your clothing is perfectly suitable. But for this journey you’ll need other garments if you’re to gain people’s respect and assistance, not to mention extra changes of clothing for the three-month voyage. I’ve asked my tailor to make you some new clothes. He’s prepared to work day and night to supply you with what you need. I shall myself escort you to London and we’ll purchase anything else necessary from a ship’s chandler near the docks.’

He paused and frowned, because this was a delicate matter, something his wife had pointed out. ‘It might be a good idea for you to eat your evening meals at my house from now on, so that we can make sure your table manners are correct. There are niceties of eating, ways of using various pieces of cutlery! . . . well, you understand, I’m sure.’

Zachary flushed but nodded.

‘You’d better stop work in the shop immediately. Go and inform Prebble. Tell him we’ll find a replacement till you return. Then come back and my clerk will take you to see the tailor. You’ll also need to go to Hawsworth’s to purchase underclothing and whatever else you’re in need of. The clothing will, of course, be yours to keep afterwards.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘We’ll discuss the arrangements you’ll need to make for the journey home to Lancashire after our evening meal tonight. How surprised those young women will be to hear about their inheritance! They’ll be so happy to be able to come home again.’

‘And if they ask for details of their legacy, what am I to tell them?’

Mr Featherworth hesitated.

‘I’m not asking out of curiosity, sir, but they’re bound to want to know.’

‘Broadly speaking, they own the shop, the building in which it’s located, including comfortable living accommodation above it, as you know, plus several cottages and houses which are rented out and bring in extra income. There is also a tidy sum of money in the bank. This was to have been used to provide for Mrs Blake during her lifetime, but was not needed in view of her death so soon after her husband’s – though that was a mercy, given her state of mind.’

He raised one finger in a cautioning gesture. ‘Mind, you are not to tell anyone else,
anyone at all
, these details.’

Zachary nodded. No need to say that. He wasn’t one to tattle about other people’s affairs, let alone betray confidential information.

Excitement swelled within him. He was going to Australia, travelling the world! What wonders would he see on his journey?

Pandora walked back across the yard of the Migrants’ Home to join the twins after speaking to a lady seeking a housemaid. It had been an effort to answer the questions. What did she care about finding a job when Cassandra was in such trouble? Before she left the ship, her sister had been accused of stealing money by her employers and was now confined to the Home. As if any of them would steal!

‘The lady you were talking to looks very annoyed,’ Maia said.

Pandora shrugged. ‘I told her I couldn’t take the job. She lives a long way from Perth, somewhere to the north. It takes five days to get there by cart. I don’t care what Matron says, I’m not going that far away from you all.’

‘I hadn’t thought it’d be so hard to find work near one another.’ Maia linked arms with her twin, Xanthe, and the three of them moved to a quiet corner.

But people pursued them there, all seeking maids.

‘Why did you come to Australia if you don’t want a job?’ one demanded.

‘I shall complain to Matron about your attitude,’ another said huffily.

Pandora didn’t try to respond to that. Bad enough to be so far away from her home. Unthinkable to be separated from her sisters as well.

A little later that day a well-dressed lady came into the Migrants’ Home, accompanied by a man who moved through the crowd ahead of her. With a shriek, Pandora ran across, so happy to see someone from home that she flung herself into his arms, laughing and crying at once. ‘Reece! I can’t believe it’s you!’

He stared at her in blank astonishment. ‘What the— Pandora, what on earth are you doing here?’ He looked round. ‘Is Cassandra with you?’

‘Yes, but it’s a long story. Not for public telling and—’ she began, stopping as she realised who he was with. ‘Mrs Southerham! Oh, I can’t believe our luck! You’re just the person we need to see.’

Livia smiled at her and the twins, who had come across to join them. ‘Isn’t Cassandra with you?’

‘They told her she can’t get a job yet. They think she stole some money. She says
you
gave it to her.’

‘I did give her some.’

They all tried to talk at once, explaining what had happened.

Reece beamed at them. ‘I can’t believe it. Cassandra’s here in Australia. I was going to send her a letter asking her to join me here.’ To marry him.

Matron came over to see what was happening and speak to Mrs Southerham.

Reece listened for a moment or two, then asked who this Mrs Lawson was. Matron looked at him in puzzlement. ‘Mrs Lawson is the sister of these young ladies.’

‘Cassandra? Then she’s the woman I want to marry.’

Silence, then, ‘Is it a while since you saw her?’

‘Yes.’

Pandora poked him in the ribs. ‘We’ll explain later.’

Matron finished talking to Mrs Southerham, who confirmed that she had indeed given Cassandra the money, then went to write a note to the Governor. She took Reece with her, because he was insisting on seeing Cassandra. ‘You can speak to her at the other end of the garden. I’ll send her out to you.’

Pandora waited anxiously. She found it hard to talk to Mrs Southerham about a job because she was hoping desperately that Reece would still love Cassandra and, in spite of what had happened, still want to marry her.

When she saw him stride round the corner of the Home with an agonised expression on his face and walk out into the street without even stopping to explain, her heart sank. She said a hasty farewell to Mrs Southerham and hurried back to their quarters to find her sister.

Cassandra was weeping.

‘Oh, love, what’s the matter?’

‘He walked away when I told him about the baby.’

Pandora had expected better of Reece, who had been a friend of the whole family back in Outham, who had courted Cassandra, but hadn’t been able to marry her because he was out of work since the mills had stopped for lack of cotton from America. ‘Then he’s not worth loving. You were raped. It wasn’t your fault.’

‘How do you stop loving someone? I told myself it wouldn’t be right to expect him to marry me, not now, but I hoped. I couldn’t help hoping.’

It was a while before Cassandra calmed down and took up her sewing again, but Pandora hated to see the bleak unhappiness on her face.

Things seemed to be getting worse since their arrival in Australia, not better.

Zachary walked slowly through the streets of Outham, his head spinning with information and excitement. As he entered Blake’s Emporium, Harry Prebble, who made everyone all too aware that he was now the temporary manager, looked up with a sour expression on his face and gestured to him to come into the back.

‘You’ve been away long enough, Carr.’

The two young men stared at one another, antagonism fairly humming between them. Harry might have been chosen to run the shop until the new owners could be brought back to Lancashire, but Zachary knew he was still jealous of the other being sent to Australia to fetch them home. And he’d always been resentful of Zachary’s extra inches. He was over six foot tall while Harry stood a bare five foot six.

The doorbell tinkled and Harry took a quick peep into the shop. ‘There’s Mrs Warrish. You’d better start serving now, Carr, and—’

‘Mr Featherworth says I’m to stop work immediately because I sail next week and there’s a lot to be done. He says you can take on other help while I’m gone. I’ll get my things and leave you to it.’

‘I need help now. I must say it’s very selfish of you. Didn’t you remind him it’s Friday, our busiest day?’

‘He and I were talking about the journey, not the shop.’

‘It’s all right for some!’


You
have nothing to complain about. You’ve been appointed temporary manager, haven’t you?’ Zachary bit back further hot words, annoyed at himself for giving his feelings away. He’d have loved to run the shop, and after working there since the age of twelve, he was sure he’d do it just as well as Harry. Better, because Harry always fussed about details and ordered the same old goods, never looking at what was happening in the world, how people were changing and wanting to buy different things.

Railways had changed everything in the past twenty years and it was now possible to get foodstuffs from all over the world as easily as they’d got them from Manchester in the old days. Mr Blake had often talked about this and Harry had listened with an intent expression on his face, but the implications never seemed to sink in.

‘Well, don’t forget that you’ll be coming back to work under
me
.’


If
you get the appointment as permanent shop manager. That’ll be up to the new owners.’

‘Who else could they appoint? I know everything about how this shop is run. Haven’t I worked here since I was twelve?’

‘We both have!’ And Zachary had been there for a year longer, actually.

‘Well, I’ll be able to
prove
my worth to Mr Featherworth while you’re gallivanting round the world, so the job’s as good as mine. Those nieces of Mr Blake’s are only mill girls, however intelligent they’re supposed to be. They’ll know nothing about running a shop, so they’re bound to turn to me for advice. I’ll make sure the profits rise while I’m in charge. That’s what will matter to them.’ He jutted his chin challengingly.

It wasn’t worth arguing, so Zachary went into the rear of the shop and took down his apron from the hook on the wall, retrieving his lunch box. You couldn’t afford to waste good food in troubled times like these. So many people in the cotton towns were going hungry for lack of work, thanks to the war in America stopping raw cotton getting through to the mills.

A year and a half ago, in 1862, Mr Blake had started providing food for his staff at midday and broken biscuits with their cups of tea at other breaks, knowing those still in employment were going short to help their hungry relatives and friends. But Harry had discontinued that practice as soon as he took over, not even providing cups of tea on the pretext that he didn’t dare be extravagant with someone else’s money. You’d think what he saved was going into his own pocket.

When he got back from Australia, if Harry was put in charge, Zachary intended to seek employment elsewhere, even if he had to move to another town to find it.

He left the shop and looked back at it thoughtfully. A huge plate glass window that had caused a sensation in the town twenty years previously when first installed, because it was so different from the small panes that all the other shops had. Tins and boxes were displayed there in carefully arranged piles. The words
BLAKE’S EMPORIUM
stood out in foot-high golden letters on a maroon ground above the shop window.

It must be wonderful to own such a business.

He felt sad as he passed a group of men loitering on a street corner, their clothes ragged and their faces gaunt with the years of hunger. He’d be eating well at the Featherworths’ that evening so on an impulse he shared the contents of his lunch box with them. Not much for each one, but something, and it broke his heart to see how carefully they divided the food, so that each would have the same amount.

Men like these were such a contrast to the more affluent customers who came into the shop. If only the war in America would end! People said the South was getting the worst of it now, but Zachary didn’t care who won. He just wanted the Americans to start sending cotton again. Without it, the mills of Lancashire stood silent, no smoke pouring from their chimneys, or only a trickle when they fired up the steam engines to keep them working properly. The clear sky still looked strange to him, because on fine days he was used to seeing smoke trails criss-crossing it.

Even the relief schemes that had been set up in the town couldn’t feed so many families adequately and that showed in people’s faces.

Zachary realised he’d stopped moving and clicked his tongue in exasperation at himself. Why was he loitering around daydreaming when he had a thousand things to organise for his adventure?

Although Reece came back to the Migrants’ Home the following day to apologise to Cassandra for walking out on her, she steadfastly refused to marry him.

Pandora watched them both from the shade of the tree where she had again taken refuge from the heat. They loved one another, she could tell. But although her sister had wept when Reece walked away from her, she said it only proved she was right to decide not to marry him. She didn’t want the child to be treated badly. Strange how protective Cassandra was to her unborn baby.

Maybe if I met someone I loved, I’d be able to settle down here more easily, Pandora thought. But she knew with a sick certainty that she wouldn’t. This place was . . . wrong for her. It wasn’t
home
. She found the heat particularly trying and her face felt raw with sweat. Even the nights were hot, though occasionally an afternoon sea breeze that locals called the ‘Fremantle Doctor’ brought a little relief for an hour or two.

She was getting better at hiding her misery, though, and was rather proud of that.

At the moment her best hope was to find a job near enough to her sisters to see them regularly. Reece’s employers, the Southerhams, had offered her a position as a maid of all work, and they were kind enough to say Cassandra could go too. But they couldn’t afford to pay two maids, so her sister would get only her keep.

It was a fair offer, probably as good as they were likely to get, given the circumstances, but Cassandra refused to accept it because Reece also worked for them.

Well, Pandora wasn’t leaving her sister on her own, not in that condition, not if she had to defy the Governor of the colony himself.

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