March 1869
Sarah slammed the meat from the meat safe onto her kitchen table in disgust.
Sarah slammed the meat from the meat safe onto her kitchen table in disgust.
“Aaah!” she half groaned, half screamed to herself.
It was flyblown again! She could see a few maggots wriggling
at the edge of the piece that was supposed to be their dinner. It was
impossible to keep meat fresh in this intolerable heat with the damn flies
buzzing everywhere! It must have been infected with flies before she bought the
meat yesterday? She was vigilant with
her meat safe.
A scowling and disheveled Robert appeared in the doorway,
unshaven and in his undershirt. Sarah lowered her eyes, willing him not to
speak.
“Just cook it anyway. A few flies won’t hurt.” Robert, her
unhappy husband, then stomped off to the shopfront, yelling at the children to
get the hell out of his way.
There was nothing else for his dinner. Sarah collapsed onto
Ralph’s homemade stool and just sat quietly for a minute. Her expression was
blank. Sweat beads appeared on her downturned forehead. Her thinning hair was
coming out of its bun. Flies tried to nestle in the corners of her eyes.
She roused herself and got the pot ready. She certainly
would not eat this meat. Robert could eat it if he liked. Fortunately she had a
few potatoes and some carrots. She cringed as she handled the meat. She had an
aversion to flies. Her stomach lurched. She wiped her hands clean once the
offensive beef was safely in the pot. She turned to the tiny baby in the old
box that was a cradle.
She called her daughter, now a sullen nursemaid, and
strapped the new baby to the younger Sarah’s chest with a long strip of fabric.
“Now take Amelia for a walk in the shade.” she demanded.
“Walk down near old Smithie’s hut… and just stay in that
area so I can call you home if I need you.”
“And mind your Ps and Qs too!” Sarah stared firmly into her
daughter’s eyes with this last instruction, as if to add weight. Young Sarah’s
weary blue eyes gazed obediently back at her mother.
After fitting their bonnets, Sarah watched them leave, the
new Amelia sleeping on her eldest daughter’s chest. At the last minute she had
also thrust a toddling Frances’s little hand into Sarah’s bigger hand. Frances
skipped along with her big sister, eager to get out despite the heat.
Younger Sarah looked hot and exhausted but she was resigned
to helping her mother. She knew what was expected of her. She knew to keep her
face downturned and her manner polite if anyone should ask how she was faring
today.
It was late March and the end of summer. Every day this week
had been like a baking oven. The Meroo River had dried to a trickle. The
diggers were scattered sparsely on goldfields. Some claims had been abandoned
and their workers had disappeared overnight. The Chinese miners appeared to be
the toughest, often working all day despite the heat.
Robert and Sarah were now married. It had been a private
ceremony in Avisford at the end of the previous year. Only a delighted Mrs
Smith had attended as a witness.
Sarah stoked the fire and sadly recalled last year’s plans.
Robert had promised they would leave the goldfields for his house in Sydney.
But he asked to move into her house first to complete some business deals. He
explained they make their journey to Sydney as soon as possible.
So Sarah was forced to stay in her home. In summer. With
snakes. And heat. And bad memories.
Of course Sarah understood that the trade in gold had
declined, along with the associated decline in the number of prospectors at
this awful time of year. But surely Robert need not drink rum with his
associates every night, wasting their meagre income on entertainment? She was quietly
furious.
Ralph’s butcher shopfront had been converted into Robert’s
office. A heavy cloth now covered the wooden butcher’s table and Sarah’s best
lamp now sat there. All Robert’s chests and clothes were stored in this area of
her house. Ralph’s knives had been sold to the only other butcher in the area.
Bottles of drink and glasses now took pride of place Ralph’s timber shelves.
The shopfront was lit up until late at night as Robert’s friends came and went.
Their neighbour, Mrs Wheen, had complained many times to Sarah of noise and
disruption. Robert said he could not
care less about Mrs Wheen and that she was as silly as a rabbit.
Robert usually fell into bed next to Sarah in the early
hours of the morning. His temper had darkened as the summer weather became
hotter and hotter. Sarah was normally awake much of the night as Robert would
not tolerate the baby crying at all. So
she was constantly feeding and soothing a fretful newborn. The birth last week
of the new Amelia had been easier than she had expected. She loved her baby
immediately and saw her as a replacement for the little blond haired angel she
had lost so horribly last winter.
She usually tried to snatch some sleep before Robert came to
bed. But that was difficult too as the noise of the men’s conversations, laughter
and drinking was barely muted by a bark wall. Also, she had to constantly
attend to Grace, the toddler, who was ordered by Robert to sleep in the
children’s room now. Grace was unsettled and unhappy about this ruling. At
least Frances was happy, curled up with her big sister Sarah each night.
The family wore few bedclothes as the heat did not decrease
much at night. Flies and mosquitos buzzed constantly. The stink of human
excrement was pervasive and inescapable, both inside and outside.
Everyone’s outhouses stank more in the heat. The lack of
water did not help. What remained of the river water often sat in still pools,
rank and undrinkable. Sarah believed
that she and Mrs Wheen were among the few women remaining at Ironbark this
summer. Other wives had moved away to other towns for the summer if they could
afford it. Everyone knew about the risk
of disease in such hot, unsanitary conditions.
Fortunately Sarah and Mrs Wheen utilized the secret spring.
Sarah took advantage of the break from the girls to sit
again and think hard. Her head in her hands, she gazed at the earthen floor and
wondered how she could endure this heat any longer. She longed to go outside
but she felt embarrassed to go out these days. Her appearance needed attention
but she had no time for it. She stared, wide eyed yet unseeing, at the floor.
Her mind chatter stopped. The flies buzzed and crawled. She was too tired to worry for a few minutes.
It felt surprisingly good. Of course idleness was not Christian, she mused.
Robert was not the man she had married. He now only spoke to
her with orders or reprimands. Sarah sensed it was more than just a decline in
his business that had turned her husband into a furious enemy. It was instead his true nature. If she was
honest with herself, she knew she had been duped. He had wanted her house, a
shopfront, a base for his gold trading here at Ironbark diggings. He probably
owned no other property in Sydney at all. Sarah had observed his interactions
with others and his propensity for drink with disappointment. She knew he could
be dishonest too. At first she was secretly tearful about her situation. But
now she just felt hard and accepting. She had slept little this week and had
eaten barely enough to make milk for the baby. But she was well. Her body was
firm, healthy and strong again already. She roused herself and made a cup of
tea. She tore some bread from yesterday’s loaf. She did not call Robert to
offer him a cup.
____________________
Sarah woke suddenly as a shout erupted from the front of her
house. Robert and his friends appeared to be having an argument. She listened
as she sat up and fed the baby, her stomach in a knot of apprehension. The moon
blazed brightly through her thin bedroom curtains. She imagined it was about
midnight. She was alert as soon as she woke. She was anxious to check on her
other children.
She heard a glass shatter and she grimaced. Mrs Wheen would
not be happy.
“Go to the devil!”
That was Robert’s slurred voice. He was sending them home
then.
Sarah changed sides. Baby Amelia protested at first but then
went back into a feeding half sleep as she latched on to the other fuller
breast. Sarah was pleased Amelia was a strong baby. But she didn’t like the
strength of Amelia’s cry or her resistance to sleep. Sarah knew she was an
intelligent child, just like the other Amelia, God Rest her Soul, poor baby.
No. Sarah would not allow her thoughts to go to her dead child. It was just too
raw, even now, almost nine months later.
Sarah’s son George appeared in her doorway.
“What are you doing awake, George?” she whispered to him. “Go
to bed!”
“He will go to bed when he is finished working for ME,
Sarah!” Robert pushed her son aside so that George’s shoulder hit the doorpost.
George let out a cry and a restrained sob. Sarah got out of
bed and put the baby, now crying, in the cradle. Robert stormed into the
bedroom, effectively stopping the boy from complaining to his mother.
“This boy needs to learn that life is not all beer and
skittles, Sarah! Tonight he ran an errand to the wrong house! I’ve a mind to
give him a damn good hiding for his mistake too. I’ve told him many times…”
Robert threw his arms up in the air dramatically as he spoke.
“Now, now, I am sure he didn’t mean it, Robert. If you are
finished business now then perhaps he can go to bed?” Sarah deftly led her boy
by his elbow to the wash stand in the hallway and then to his bed next to the
other sleeping children. She made sure her voice had a soft, compromising tone.
Her role was the soother, she thought. The one who finds a way to peace. Beer
and skittles? Her poor son had no idea about either, she thought. Robert was a
bully.
George was used by Robert as a “runner” of errands and messages
on the diggings. Sarah had no control over Robert’s decision to train the boy
in the way of the gold trading business. Apparently he was old enough to pull his
weight. But George still suffered from abdominal pain. He was thin too. And
what did he learn? That stupid deals were made dishonestly with the most
unsavory characters?
She needed to talk to Robert and work out a new plan for
their future. All she had was the bark and stone house that Ralph had
built. There was absolutely no money. She would need to sell more jewellery and
clothes at Avisford next week in order to buy food. Since Robert’s business in
buying and selling small amounts of gold was unsuccessful, she wanted to try
again to persuade him to move to Sydney.
“Robert, let’s go for a walk in the moonlight, my love.” She
made herself smile at her husband, the stranger.
“What the dickens for?!” he bellowed, his face florid and
his eyes bloodshot in the candle light.
“Oh come on! It will be lovely and peaceful, just the two of
us? What a glorious night it is!” Sarah quickly threw a dress over her linen
shift and then scooped up the baby, along with the long piece of fabric. She
would swaddle the baby to her chest as she walked.
Robert reluctantly agreed, distracted by this unusual idea.
“Let’s go up the
hill, Robert! It is lovely tonight, isn’t it? We will have some privacy at the
top!”
The moon shone white, the stars were a spectacular
entertainment. Sarah threw her head back and smiled playfully and took Robert’s
hand. He gave a surly grin back. He smelt of drink and sweat. He leaned into
her face and giggled. She giggled back, playing along.
Sarah took her usual bush path to her hillside children’s
play area, away from the dusty, smelly diggings. Robert idled along, stopping to cough and
complain at times.
She felt brave enough to ask if they could now go to Sydney.
But Robert stopped in his tracks, suddenly pugnacious again.
“And live WHERE in Sydney? You know my house is unavailable
at the moment? God knows, woman, why I took you on!? You and your little tribe
of hungry scavengers!”
Shocked at his outburst, Sarah resisted an urge to scream
back. Robert was vicious, his teeth exposed, his eyes mad. He towered over her for
an instant, daring her to retort, then stormed off on a side track.
“Robert? Come back!” Sarah followed him into a grove of
small wattle shrubs. She hoped the
snakes were asleep. She pushed back whip
like branches as she trotted to keep up with him, the baby well strapped and asleep
at her chest.
It was darker in the wattle. The side track led into a densely
vegetated gully. Sarah was worried about tripping on the small rocks. She
caught him up and felt suddenly angry. Why couldn’t he be civil? Her life was
hard too.
“I can sell the house, Robert. We will find rooms in Sydney
until the tenants in your house move out? Can you not set up business there
immediately? I can help with the bookwork if it makes it easier?”
She tried to add hope to her voice. But she was pleading. In
vain, she thought.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Sarah. How in God’s name can YOU help?”
Robert pushed her. She fell back against earth and rock.
Amelia started her piercing cry.
Sarah got up. She was not hurt. She stood facing him. They
were in a little clearing.
“You don’t know how much I did for you!” Robert continued.
He was yelling now. Sarah was crying. She was glad they were far enough away
from the diggings so they would not be heard.
“What did you do for me, Robert? It seems you did nothing
for me? Except perhaps take over as head of my house and give out rough justice
to my children?” Sarah yelled back, incensed, tears streaming down her face.
“How dare you!” Robert’s dark head came closer to Sarah as
he screamed.
“Who do you think took care of your useless, dirty husband?
Hey? Who?”
“What…?” Sarah’s sobs stopped as she tried to comprehend.
Her mouth fell open and she felt her body stop for a moment. She felt frozen
with disbelief.
“I PAID those Chinamen to knock him off, Sarah! I got him
out of your way so we could be together! And what thanks do I get? Constant
damn whining about going to Sydney…!”
Sarah felt a tide of loathing arise in her body. It gave her
strength. Robert had Ralph killed? He was a monster! She never ever asked him
to do that? She hated him!
She pushed him hard. Robert, laughing now the truth was out,
stumbled backwards for several feet and then the laughter suddenly stopped. Robert
disappeared.
Sarah stopped. Where was he? Was he hiding?
“Robert? Robert! How could you? I never asked you to do …that?”
Her eyes strained in the gloom. She listened for the crunch of footsteps in the
dry bush.
Sobs arose from her chest and she felt her throat closing
and her voice weakening. She felt unwell. She slowly melted to the ground. It
was darker. The moon had gone behind a cloud. Possums grunted in trees to the
left. She waited for light and sounds. Amelia had changed her cry to a constant
whimper.
The truth now became clear to her in seconds. Poor dear
Ralph! Of course it was not an argument about change. Chinamen don’t argue.
They never would. The robbery was fake too. She knew they wouldn’t steal
candles. Or plaid fabric. Robert had set that up. It was a stupid amateur setup!
And then Robert must have murdered Ah
Mow in an attempt to stop the whole matter going to trial. She remembered
now…she had complained about having to go to Bathurst to give evidence in the
trial. And the next day Ah Mow was found dead.
She couldn’t move. She felt a nauseating, deep fear now. He
was going to hit her. He would do it any second. She furtively darted her head
to each side, looking for him, listening for him. The moon came out again and
she saw the clearing. It was empty. He was gone.
She crawled forward to the rear of the clearing where the scratchy,
dry wattle started to clump again. Almost at the roots of the shrubs, she
stopped, just in time. There was a hole in the earth, dusty scuff marks at the
front and torn branches at the rear. It was a shaft. He had fallen in.
There was no sound at all from the shaft. She felt revulsion
again and covered her mouth. She edged away but not before dragging some small
dead branches across the hole. She dusted her footprints with her bare hands.
She shimmied backwards to a rocky area. She stopped to listen. Nothing.
Was this justice then? Was God dealing out retribution to
Robert? She had pushed him. But she did not want him dead. She had started the
sinful affair with Robert. It was her
doing. And now she had ended it. Because
of her affair, three men and her daughter Amelia had died. And now Robert was
dead.
Sarah wobbled to her feet, patted the baby and started
walking home. She was free of him. It would be better this way. She would say
he went away on business. And then she would say he had deserted her.
She walked faster, the moon lighting her way beautifully.
She must check on her other children.
____________________
THE END
