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Authors: Mary-Anne O'Connor

BOOK: Gallipoli Street
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Rose studied her nails and enjoyed their admiring glances while Veronica donned her gloves and helped place the smaller blocks on the cart.

After a good twenty minutes the tray was full and John raised his hand in salute.

‘Tell your dad I'll pop in and see him next week,' he said, pausing to bark at the young men who were still hovering. ‘Go on, get back to work! And put your eyes back in y'heads, ya bunch of prawns!'

They waved goodbye and drove away. Veronica was flushed and dirty from her work in the hot sun and glanced alongside at Rose, who remained immaculate and cool. She had to hand it to her. Despite the fact she hadn't lifted a single piece of wood, somehow Rose had still received the lion's share of the praise from the men. It's a pity she doesn't apply her enthusiasm for speeding along bad roads and flirting with men to other pursuits, Veronica reflected, noting that the load was being flung to one side. She twisted in the seat and bent over to secure the ropes as best she could, pushing the hair back from her face.

‘Would you mind driving a little bit less like a lunatic?' she exclaimed as the cart swerved yet again, forcing her to grip on tightly.

‘Would you mind not acting like a martyr all the time?' Rose replied, rolling her eyes.

Veronica glared at her, half inclined to push her off the bench.

‘Is there any water left?' she asked, eyeing the canteen tied around Rose's waist.

‘Didn't you bring any?'

‘The canteen was supposed to be for both of us.'

‘Was it? That's a shame. All gone.' Rose shrugged, flicking the reins. The cart veered as the horses further lengthened their gait.

Veronica doubted that, but decided she would rather go thirsty than beg Rose for anything.

Ten minutes later, her thirst now overwhelming, she was starting to relent on that decision. She was just about to ask Rose if she wouldn't mind checking the canteen again when the horses slowed down, shaking their manes.

‘Get on there,' Rose said, whipping them. Suddenly both horses began to shy and buck, whinnying in fright. Concerned that they might bolt, Veronica jumped down to hold the reins and try to calm them. Then she saw the reason for their distress.

On the side of the track, only a metre or so from her, was a large black snake, his neck held high, poised to strike. Veronica gasped, stepping back, but she was too late. The snake struck, hitting her leg several times, the sharp fangs piercing through her dress. Veronica was so shocked she barely made it back on to the cart before Rose hurled her up and tore them away.

The horses went at a gallop, eventually calming down to a walk before Rose managed to stop them altogether. Even then, their ears and tails were still twitching nervously. By this time Veronica was slumped over in her seat and groaning in agony, her stomach churning. ‘It…it was a black snake,' she managed.

‘I know,' Rose said, quickly fastening the reins and kneeling down. She tore Veronica's skirts back, examining the wounds closely and pouring water from the canteen to clear the small dots of blood.

‘Thought you said there was no water left,' Veronica panted.

Rose ignored her, unlacing her boots.

‘Three on the leg, one on the ankle. This one only just went through,' she muttered, reaching for her bag and tipping out the contents. She grabbed a tiny pair of nail scissors and grasped the hem of Veronica's petticoat.

‘W-what are you doing?' Veronica gasped, struggling to focus through the haze of pain.

‘Making a bandage,' Rose replied. ‘Stop moving.' The air was rent with the tearing of cloth as she cut and then ripped strips off Veronica's petticoat. With surprising speed and efficiency she sucked at the bite marks, spitting out what venom she could, then wound the bandages tightly around the wounded limb. Veronica found herself staring at the beads of perspiration on Rose's forehead, reflecting she'd never seen her so much as dab at her face, let alone break out in a full sweat.

When she'd fastened the makeshift bandage, Rose leapt back up onto the seat and flicked the reins. As the horses took off, Veronica slid helplessly sideways.

‘Hold bloody still.' Rose grabbed at her, pinning her down with her arm. Veronica had never heard Rose swear before either. She started to wonder if she was hallucinating.

The cart careered dangerously as Rose held onto Veronica with one hand and tried to control the horses with the other. Veronica felt the darkness beckon, her head pounding as a strong nausea assailed her.

As her head lolled from side to side, and the waves of blackness washed over her, Veronica felt Rose shaking her and heard her calling, as if from a distance, ‘Oh no, you don't. Wake up! Come on, stay awake.'

The orphanage came into view just as Veronica lost consciousness. Her last thought was that she must be hallucinating as she heard Rose begin to cry.

Six

Highview, December 1913

She felt the warmth on her face as she was pulled from her dream. Jack was there, standing on a boat, but she couldn't get to him and he was floating away, far away over giant, angry seas. She wanted to run to him but there was a snake in front of her, poised to strike, but she had to go. She had to bring him back home. The snake struck and her eyes flew open.

The curtains rippled along in little waves in the breeze and she stared at them, confused, blinking against the glare, her head aching. She was in her bedroom at home. It had all been a dream. No, not all. Her leg ached. Slowly it came back to her: the baking sun, the striking snake and Rose, ripping at her petticoat, winding the bandages.

‘She's awake,' she heard Eileen call excitedly. ‘Thank the Lord. Thank the Lord,' she wept, as Catherine and Kevin came in to the room, ashen faced.

‘My baby,' her mother crooned, holding Veronica close. It was a mark of how sick she must have been for Catherine to call her that, an endearment she hadn't heard in years. Her father looked like he hadn't slept, the tears running down his face unchecked.

‘Can't tell you how worried we've been, little pet,' he choked, kissing her forehead.

Dr Dwyer followed. He checked her pulse and examined her wounds as the parish priest, Father Francis, stood nearby.

‘How do you feel?' the doctor asked finally, watching her closely.

‘Thirsty,' she croaked, looking at Father Francis whose presence indicated to her just how close to death she'd come. Dr Dwyer seemed pleased with that answer and Eileen immediately poured her a glass of water from the nightstand. She drank gratefully.

‘You're a lucky young lady, Veronica. It was a close call I have to say, but you're out of the woods now. It seems that daughter of mine has been paying more attention to my work than I realised.' Dr Dwyer patted her arm and walked out with her mother, talking in low tones about how she would need plenty of rest and only toast and black tea for the next few days. Eileen fussed about with her pillows as a beaming Molly came in with a tray, placing fresh flowers on her dresser. No sooner had the maids left, leaving her with a cup of tea and some dry toast, than Pattie burst in, taking off her gloves and hurling herself onto the bed, grasping her friend's hands and holding them for a moment, her eyes glistening with emotion.

‘Hear you lost in a bust-up with a serpent.'

‘You should have seen…the snake.' Veronica smiled.

‘I did. She's parading about town boasting as we speak.' Pattie wiggled her eyebrows.

‘Don't.' Veronica giggled a little then shook her head. ‘She…she saved my life.'

‘Hmmm. Yes, I'm still trying to figure that one out. She is the daughter of a doctor after all, so I suppose she felt some kind of duty towards you…or else…'

‘Or else what?'

‘She's looking after herself as usual.'

‘No. No…Pattie, she was scared for me. She was crying. I think maybe…there's a bit more to Rose than we thought. I mean…maybe she is, you know…not all bad.'

‘Humph,' Pattie snorted. ‘You'd save your dog under the same circumstances so I don't see why we should be so shocked she showed some basic human values. Though actually I am surprised she's human. Anyway, enough about snakes. Let's focus on getting you well enough to come to Greenshades. Only two weeks to go, you know. I was thinking about wearing a bathing costume this year. What do you think? Too daring?' She bit her lip, striking a pose and lifting her skirts, making Veronica laugh again.

Eileen bustled back in and shooed Pattie out of the room so the invalid could rest.

Veronica was sleepy, but she stretched out her leg to examine her wounds before lying back against the pillows again. Her aching head spun as she processed the facts. Rose had cared; she had treated her and feared for her to the point of tears. Veronica knew she should be grateful but found herself strangely resentful instead. Not only had Rose taken away the man she loved: she'd now taken away Veronica's right to hate her – how could she continue to despise someone who had saved her life?

She stared at the flowers Molly had brought in: purple roses, a large bouquet and obviously not from their garden. Someone must have sent them in from the city.

And holding onto that intriguing thought she fell into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

Jack tore open the telegram, registering its contents in a rush before sitting down heavily in his chair and gazing out unseeing at the harbour. The relief ran through his veins like a drug. It had been the worst Sunday of his life, going through the motions of comforting friends and family as they all feared the worst. Dr Dwyer's report had been brief and sombre as he'd passed by the Murphys', where they had all gathered to wait: her breathing was shallow and she was still unconscious. Rose had been suitably humble under the praise that had been directed at her all day, particularly from Alice, who had marvelled at her composure and how it may have saved Veronica's life. Rose's parents had seemed quite stunned that their daughter knew what to do in an emergency, but Iggy had simply given her a wink and a kiss on the cheek when he found out, obviously proud of his little sister.

Jack was proud of her too, he told himself, it was just…He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He only knew that the engagement ring had stayed in his pocket as they kissed goodbye at the gate that night and as he rode back to the city the next morning he felt somehow guilty. As if he were leaving a part of himself behind on the road with every passing mile, and it wasn't Rose.

Too many sleepless nights later he'd had enough. He was in the last stages of a deal with a Queensland packaging company that had taken months to close, but he was about to get on the train and head back home nevertheless, when the telegram arrived.

He stared at it again, reassuring himself that the words were still there, before folding it and placing it in his pocket next to the little box that sealed his future. Time felt like it began to pass at normal speed again. Now he could move forward and get on with his life.

But as he journeyed home that Saturday the circle of gold and diamonds lay heavily against his chest, just as the decision weighed upon his mind.

Veronica breathed in the sweet summer breeze as she lay on the garden seat, an unopened book in her lap. She was still a little light headed, but the lure of fresh air after a week cooped up in her room was too much to resist that afternoon, and her stomach was churning not so much with the nausea of the past week but with anticipation. She heard the boys arrive and Tom bounded across the lawn to her, pretending to be a monkey. He was busy picking imaginary insects from her hair when Mick walked over with Jack.

‘Hello dearest,' Mick kissed her cheek, ‘feeling better?' Both brothers had stayed at home from the city that week, unable to bear leaving, and today was the first day they had parted from her side.

‘Much.' She smiled, finally forcing herself to look at Jack. ‘Who won?' she heard herself asking as if from a distance. It was unbelievably good to see him, away from the nightmares, in the flesh.

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