Call of the Kiwi (35 page)

Lilian’s ears were more sensitive. When the first rock finally struck its target, she awoke, threw open her window, and ducked to avoid the next stone.

“Quiet,” she whispered, amazed but charmed by the situation.

“I have to talk to you.” Ben sounded choked, not the least bit romantic. “Can you come down?”

Lilian threw on a bathrobe and met Ben in the garden beneath her window.

“Did you get in trouble?” she asked. “My father almost exploded. Just imagine, h
e . . .
”

“They want to send me away,” Ben broke in. “My mother does, in any case; my father couldn’t get a word in edgewise.”

Lilian giggled. “They want to send me away too, to Queenstown. But naturally I’m not going.”

“I’m supposed to go to the North Island. Relatives of ours have a coal mine there. And I’m to work there; my mother already spoke to my uncle on the phone. She was in such an awful rage she called him up in the middle of the night.”

“She can’t force you,” she said soothingly. “Just tell her you won’t go, that you don’t want to work in an office.”

“Lily, you don’t understand.” Ben seized her upper arms as if he wanted to shake her, but then he buried his face in her hair instead. “I’m not going to work in an office; they’re sending me into a mine. My uncle says at his mine everyone has to work their way up from the pickax, meaning at least a few months as a miner underground. He says that drove the nonsense out of his boys’ heads too.”

“
You’re
supposed to mine for coal?” Lilian asked.

“I trie
d . . .
I wanted to tell her that I wouldn’t do it, that she couldn’t drag me by my hair onto the ferry, and all those things you’re always saying. But I couldn’t, Lily. When I’m in front of her, it’s like I’m frozen. I can’t get a word out.”

“Well, we have been planning to run away.”

“That’s why I’m here. Let’s go, Lily. Right now, on the early train.”

Lilian frowned. “But the early train goes to Westport, Ben. The one to Christchurch doesn’t run until eleven.”

“There’s a coal train that goes from our mine to Christchurch. At six o’clock in the morning. The cars are ready. The train workers just connect them when the locomotive comes. If we climb onto one now, no one will notice.”

“But we’ll be covered in coal when we arrive in Christchurch,” Lilian objected.

“Then we’ll just get out earlier and wash up somewhere.” Ben’s plan sprang from a courage born of desperation.

Lilian improved upon it at lightning speed.

“We need blankets, or better yet, a tarp to keep out the coal dust. It won’t be perfect, but it will be better than nothing. Do you have anything like that at the mine? You must. And we should put on our oldest clothes. Then we can throw them away when get to Christchurch—we’ll be arriving at the goods depot anyway, right? We’ll be able to find a shed or something where we can change. I just have to pack. Where are your things, Ben?”

Ben looked at her, uncomprehending.

“Ben! Your bag. Did you want to go as you are? Without so much as a change of clothes? And do you have your passport? We’ll need it to marry.”

Ben had not thought that far ahead, so he would have to go back home. Lilian sighed.

Lilian only needed a few minutes to gather her things. She closed the door behind her without looking back. Elated by the prospect of the adventure ahead, she led Ben to the garage. She steered the car out of the garage.

“Close the door, Ben. Then they won’t notice right away that the car’s gone. No, the left bolt. My God, can’t you shut a door without pinching your fingers?”

Ben sucked on his squashed thumb as Lilian drove. He shivered at his own courage.

“I’m supposed to go back in the house? What if my parents wake up?”

“They had a long day. Just don’t drop anything in the stairwell. And don’t forget your passport.”

Lilian spent a nerve-racking half hour behind the wheel, a few streets down from the Billers’ town house. She imagined a thousand complications, but Ben finally slid in next to her.

“My father,” he murmured, “he caught me.”

“What?” Lily asked. “How are you here then? You didn’t knock him out or shoot him or anything, did you?” Though Lilian didn’t think Ben capable of violence, that’s what always happened in books and films.

Ben shook his head. “No, he gave this to me.” The boy fished a hundred-dollar bill out of his pocket. “I had gathered my things, but I still needed my passport, which was in his study, so I went in, and there he was. In the dark. With a bottle of whiskey. And he just looked at me and sai
d . . .
”

“Yes?” Lilian asked, eager for his heroic words of farewell.

“He said, ‘You’re going?’ And I said yes. And then he rummaged in his pocket for the money and said, ‘Sorry. I don’t have any more on me right now.
’ ”

“And?” Lily asked, impatient.

“And nothing. I left. Oh, I did say thanks.”

Lilian sighed with relief. Though it lacked drama, Ben had made his escape—and with the blessing of his father, no less.

“We’ll drive the car into the forest next to the mine. They’ll find it there tomorrow,” Lilian said. “Do you have the key for the gate, or will we have to climb over it?”

Ben had the key, and the train cars were sitting there as he had described. With an hour until the locomotive was expected, there was no one there, and Ben and Lilian shoveled a shelter into the mountain of coal. By the time they were on their way, they looked like coal miners. Ben laughed and kissed a little of the dust from Lilian’s nose.

“Where are we anyway?” she asked, glancing at the breathtaking panorama of the southern mountains. The train was crossing over a narrow bridge barely able to hold its weight. Lilian held her breath. Beneath them gaped a canyon at the bottom of which flowed a blue-white mountain stream.

“A long way from the West Coast, at least,” Ben said, relieved. “Do you think they know we’re gone yet?”

“Definitely,” Lilian said. “The real question is whether they know that we left on this train. If they figure it out, they’ll seize us in Christchurch.”

“Couldn’t we get off earlier?” Ben asked.

“This train doesn’t make any stops before Christchurch. But let’s see. We could hop off as the train slows through Arthur’s Pass and then catch the passenger train, which will stop in Rolleston, the last stop before Christchurch.”

When they passed through the Arthur’s Pass station, the train didn’t stop, but it slowed down. Lily boldly threw her bag from the car and jumped before it picked up speed again. Ben followed suit, and they set off in search of a body of water where they could clean themselves up. They soon found a stream and set up camp. Although the day was sunny, Arthur’s Pass was considerably higher in altitude than Greymouth and hoarfrost still covered the ground. They shivered at the thought of getting wet or even changing clothes.

“Brave enough to jump in the water?” Lily teased, slipping reluctantly out of her blackened hose.

“If you are,” Ben said, pulling his shirt off.

“I’d have to undress,” Lilian said.

“You have to do that anyway.”

“Not entirely.” Feigning coyness, Lilian batted her eyes. “But I’ll do it if you do.” She began unbuttoning her dirty dress as she spoke. Ben hardly felt the cold anymore as she undid her corset and presented herself to him in nothing but her underwear.

“Now you,” Lilian said with glinting eyes.

She watched with fascination as Ben took off his pants.

“So that’s what that looks like,” she remarked when he finally stood before her naked. “I had pictured it bigger.”

Ben blushed deeply. “It depends on the weather,” he murmured. “Now you. Everything.”

Lilian undressed completely too, only to throw her coal-dusted coat immediately around her shivering body.

“You’ll be all black in a moment,” Ben said. “But you’re beautiful.”

Lily laughed, embarrassed. “And you’re filthy,” she said. “Come on, I’ll wash you.”

She dipped her slip in the stream and pounced on Ben. They played like children in the icy water, spraying each other, and trying to rub the coal dust off their bodies. Lilian had brought soap, but it was still not easy. The dust clung in a greasy film to their skin, and without warm water, there was no way to wash it off completely. At least Lilian had thought to cover her hair with a kerchief. Ben had to wash his and almost froze to death in the process. The result left something to be desired.

“Well, you look older anyway,” Lilian said. “Your gray hair set in early.”

Ben had to laugh. He had rarely had as much fun as this carefree tussling in a stream near Arthur’s Pass. Lilian looked ecstatic.

Eventually, they were wearing clean clothes. Ben had not thought to bring a warm coat, and Lilian had decided against bringing a shawl because her bag was already too heavy. Ben tried to keep her warm by wrapping his arm around her as they strolled back to the train station to wait for the passenger train to Christchurch.

“You’re sure it stops here?” Ben asked.

Lilian nodded with chattering teeth. “And I hope it’s heated. We’re close enough. We can wait here.” She pointed to a group of bushes within view of the platform and moved to sit on her bag behind them.

“Here? I mean, we could go to the platform and buy a ticket, and they might have washrooms.”

“Ben, if we stroll in there now and buy a ticket, the first thing the signalman is going to do is ask us where we came from. And what are we supposed to tell him? That we came on foot over the mountains? You’re much too honest, Ben. I hope you never have to become a thief to feed us like Henry Martin in that old folk song. We’d starve.”

“And how does Miss Brigand Queen see the situation?” Ben asked, insulted. “We have to board the train somehow.”

“Simple! People often get off here to gawk at the pass and stretch their legs. We’ll just mingle with them and then climb aboard. I doubt they’ll check tickets. After all, who’s going to stow away out here in the wilderness?”

Sneaking onto the train had proved easy enough. The biggest danger was of being seen by some acquaintance since the Lamberts and the Billers knew half of Greymouth. They finally found a compartment filled with travelers from Christchurch. An older couple even shared their provisions with the hungry young couple.

“My husband is a coal miner, you see,” Lilian said to explain the gray streak in Ben’s blond hair. “But there’s no future in that. Well, there is a future, of course. The mines are all at capacity because of the war. We, er, the Lamberts are even building a coke furnace now, but well, we don’t see a future for us in mining. We want to start anew in the Canterbury Plains with, well, maybe with a sewing-machine business.”

While Lilian chattered away, Ben lost himself in the gorgeous landscape streaming by out the window. Beech forests, riverbanks, and wild mountainsides gave way to foothills and finally the grassland of the Canterbury Plains.

Lilian and Ben got off at Rolleston.

“Did you have to talk the whole time?” Ben asked indignantly. “Those people are going to remember us now.”

“Yes, as a young couple from the mining settlement,” Lily said, unconcerned. “Come on, Ben, there aren’t any detectives waiting in Christchurch to question train passengers. At least not yet. And later they won’t even be able to find those people.”