The Grace Stories Page 11

  GRACE waited until it was almost dark before leaving the field to follow the track back up to the hut. She felt tired. Her back ached from standing so long, and the skin on her nose and cheeks stung.

  How will I ever be anything but dispensable? she thought as she walked, her head down. A good servant doesn’t run away from her work to go and touch somebody else’s precious horse.

  Grace wondered if Tom knew about Pegasus. No wonder he was worried about having me around his horse, and no wonder he never wanted me here, she thought. He thinks I’m a thief. He wouldn’t know that I only wanted to give Pegasus apples to keep him going and that I didn’t mean any harm.

  Even though Grace knew she wasn’t a thief, Tom made her feel guilty and ashamed of herself – so different to the way she had felt when she was with Liza. Hannah’s mother was proud of her, and told her she was clever, brave and helpful. Grace wished they’d never had to be separated. She longed for Hannah, too. Why did I meet a best friend if I was only going to lose her again? she wondered.

  Grace was so caught up in her worries that she didn’t notice Beth coming towards her with a small lamp that glowed and bounced as she walked.

  ‘Grace,’ she called. ‘I thought I was going to have to come down to the corn and find you! I was scared those awful birds had carried you away!’

  As Beth drew closer, the soft light of the lamp showed Grace the concern in her mistress’s eyes. She thinks that she hasn’t picked a good servant after all, Grace thought. She was sure that Tom must have told Beth what she had done that day – how she had left the field to go and see his horse.

  But Beth touched her shoulder lightly. ‘You must be very hungry,’ she said. ‘It’s hard work, I know. Only those flamin’ parrots for company. I’m in the middle of cooking us all a good supper to make up for last night.’

  Tom can’t have told her what happened, Grace thought, relieved – she is so kind. Beth and Grace walked up the trail together, the lamp casting a soft light ahead of them.

  When they entered the hut, Grace saw Tom sitting by the hearth rubbing oil into Glory’s saddle. Beth went to him and kissed his shoulder, and he smiled up at her. Grace swallowed, her throat dry. But Tom did not say anything to his wife and he didn’t acknowledge Grace at all.

  Grace watched Beth turn the meat that was roasting over the fire and avoided Tom.

  ‘You’ll taste your first kangaroo tonight,’ Beth said, not noticing Grace’s nerves. ‘Tom went hunting. It isn’t like the meat from home, but with enough pumpkin on your fork you won’t taste the difference.’

  ‘We are eating the kangaroo?’ Grace asked.

  ‘It’s that or go hungry. The pumpkin will help it down. They grow more easily here than other things.’

  Grace watched as Beth sprinkled pepper over the meat.

  ‘The pepperberry grows wild in the bush,’ Beth said. ‘Mulgo showed me. You grind the dried berries and end up with pepper. Saves me having to buy it in town from the supplies shop. Grace, can you lift the lid off the stove and tell me if you think the vegetables are ready? Make sure you use the cloth or you’ll burn your fingers.’

  Grace lifted the heavy iron lid from the stove and placed it on the stone at the foot of the hearth. ‘What shall I do now, ma’am?’ She wished she didn’t have to ask. She wished she knew how to cook dinner, but she hadn’t a clue.

  ‘You can call me Beth, for a start. Whenever you say “ma’am” I expect my old mistress to turn up in the kitchen and make life a misery for all of us!’ Beth smiled as she stoked the fire.

  ‘Yes . . . Beth.’ Grace stole a look at Tom, who was polishing his boots. Master Tom and Beth . . . I mustn’t forget.

  ‘Stick the knife into the pumpkin and if it slides in easy as butter, it’s ready to eat. And you can check the onions have browned just by looking at them.’

  Grace did as she was told. The knife sunk easily into the pumpkin and the onions were golden brown and crisped at the edges. ‘I think they’re ready, Beth.’

  ‘Good timing,’ said Beth, lifting the meat from the fire. ‘Now fetch us some plates from the shelf and bring them to the table.’

  Grace saw a stack of four plates on the shelf. How many shall I take down? she wondered. Am I to eat with my mistress and master, or after them? Grace decided it was safest to just take down two plates.

  ‘Set them at the table, please, Grace. It’s our finest china, never mind the chips.’ Beth laughed.

  ‘What about the spoons, ma’am?’ Grace asked. ‘I mean – Beth.’

  ‘The cutlery’s in the wooden box – knives and forks for tonight’s banquet, Grace.’

  Grace took two forks and two knives from the box and set them beside the plates. She wasn’t used to being allowed to use a knife and fork. In the Factory and on the boat, the prisoners had only been given spoons. Now she felt foolish for not knowing better. Does the cutlery need to sit above the plates? she wondered. Or across them? When she had played toffs and princesses with Hannah, they had pretended their wooden spoons were shiny silver ones but they had never talked about how to set a table. Grace wished very much that they had. The last thing she wanted to do was make another mistake.

  ‘Grace, you’ve only put out two plates.’ Beth turned from the kitchen bench and came to the table. Grace looked at the floor. ‘Aren’t you hungry after your day at the cornfield?’

  As if her stomach was answering Beth’s question, it growled loudly. Grace flushed and kept her eyes on the floor.

  ‘Take down another plate, Grace. This hut is too small for you to go to a different room while we eat. You can’t very well go outside. It wouldn’t be right.’ Beth pointed to the place at the other side of the head. ‘You can put it there.’

  Grace almost wished she could eat separately, the way servants in England did. Liza had worked for a fancy mistress in London and she had told the girls that servants always ate separately and only got the scraps. As Grace took down another plate, she wondered if she would ever understand how things were to work here.

  ‘Grace, the pumpkin can go in the blue dish – yes, that’s the one. Tom, dinner!’

  Beth winked at Tom as he sat down. ‘Just pretend the stinging nettles are English spinach, my love,’ she said as she ladled green leaves onto each plate.

  ‘As long as the leaves don’t sting my tongue, I’m happy to pretend it’s anything at all.’ Tom smiled at his wife.

  Grace could see from the light in his eyes how much he loved her. They are a family – they belong together. I can never imagine having fun with Tom, she thought as she sat down. He just seems disappointed or cross with me.

  Beth stretched out her hands towards Grace on her left and her husband on her right. Tom also extended a hand to Grace.

  ‘It’s time to give thanks to God, Grace,’ Beth said, taking Grace’s hand firmly in her own. Grace felt the pressure of Tom’s warm hand on one side and Beth’s on the other. We make a circle, she thought, and closed her eyes.

  As she ate, Grace did not look away from her kangaroo, which she was enjoying far more than she expected; the meat tasted sweet and peppery at the same time.

  Tom spoke to his wife between mouthfuls. ‘Jerry told me some new folk have moved into Mr Hill’s property. A man called William Clay – he’s a free settler from Hampshire. He’s brought his new wife with him, too. She could make a friend for you in time. Jerry said she’s very capable. I think she has some sort of experience with helping the sick.’

  Jerry must be a neighbour, Grace thought, or a friend of Tom’s.

  ‘The road to the property isn’t cleared yet, though – the East Trail that runs down by the creek,’ Tom continued. ‘But it will be soon and then Jerry could take you in the wagon – it’d take about an hour. I know how lonely it gets when I am away.’

  ‘Oh! That’s good news. My only friend has been Mulgo, and we barely understand a word each other says! Pair of right fools we look, trying to have a conversation.’ Beth smiled, then looked at Grac
e. ‘But I won’t be so lonely now that I have some help.’

  Grace lifted her face and her mistress’s clear blue eyes drew a smile from her.

  ‘You mustn’t call Mulgo your friend, Beth.’ Tom frowned at his wife. ‘She’s a native! They aren’t to be trusted.’

  ‘But Tom, Mulgo has only ever helped me – ’ Beth protested.

  Grace had heard a lot of different things about the natives since she’d arrived at the colony, and she wondered which ones were true.

  ‘She hasn’t given us any trouble,’ Tom continued, ‘but you know very well there are settlers who’ve lost livestock and property to those savages! They’re uncivilised and you’re to steer clear.’

  Beth pulled back from her husband. ‘But Mulgo gave me medicine when I was so sick, back when I was first pregnant, don’t you remember?’

  ‘And she was given sugar and flour for her troubles. She’s a savage, Beth, just like the rest of them. I don’t wish them any harm, like some of the settlers do, but we should leave them alone.’ Tom drank from his cup. ‘In a few days I’ll have to go away,’ he said.

  Beth sighed. ‘In a few days? Tom, so soon?’

  ‘Better now than in a few more weeks when the baby will be very close.’ Tom placed his hand against his wife’s round belly.

  ‘Yes, I suppose that’s true . . . though I wish you didn’t have to go at all.’

  ‘I know, but Jerry and I stand to make good money helping a team to clear some land at the foot of the mountains. And when I return there will be enough for another cow.’

  ‘Another cow? What about a fine dress for me to wear while I milk the one we’ve already got?’ Beth’s eyes danced.

  Tom laughed. ‘How about a cow and a fine dress to go with it!’

  The way Beth and Tom teased and played reminded Grace of Hannah and the fun they used to have. Her chest was filled with longing.

  The feeling lasted into the evening. Grace lay in her bed, thinking about the kindness in Glory’s eyes. As she drifted into sleep, she imagined that she, too, had a horse of her own. She imagined looking deep into its eyes and breathing in its scent and riding far away from this world where she never seemed to belong.

  FOR the rest of her first week at Wattle Park, Grace watched over the corn. One morning, as she was passing the storage shed on her way to the field, she saw Tom preparing Glory for a ride. Grace stopped and stood quietly as he slipped a bridle over his horse’s head. She noticed how he pressed the silver bit against Glory’s lips so that she opened her mouth for him and he could slide in the silver bar. She watched him buckle the strap against Glory’s cheek, speaking softly to her as he worked. ‘I’m going to take you for a ride, Glory girl. We’ll go as fast as the wind today – even faster . . .’

  He’s so gentle with her, thought Grace, sighing.

  At that moment, Tom looked across and saw Grace leaning against the shed watching him. ‘Get down to that cornfield, Grace!’

  ‘Yes, sir – sorry, sir,’ Grace stammered.

  Just as she turned away, she saw something move across the ground towards Glory. Grace narrowed her eyes and peered into the grass. The thing emerged between the long tufts. It was a snake! A brown snake! The kind that could kill you with a single bite. As the snake’s long and powerful body slithered through the grass towards Glory, Grace was filled with horror.

  She screamed.

  The mare pulled back in fright, yanking the reins from Tom’s hands and knocking him off balance.

  ‘A snake!’ Grace cried. ‘A snake!’

  Tom grabbed hold of Glory’s reins to stop the horse from backing away.

  Grace pointed to the grass at Glory’s feet, her arm shaking. ‘Oh, sir, there’s a snake! A snake is coming for your horse, sir!’

  ‘Where? Where did you see it?’ Tom spun around, searching through the grass.

  Grace pointed. ‘There, sir, there!’

  Tom kicked at the ground with his boots. ‘Are you sure it was a snake?’

  ‘Yes, sir. A brown one! The kind that can kill you!’

  Tom picked up a long stick from the ground and swung it through the grass.

  ‘Be careful!’ Grace’s panicked voice frightened Glory again, and the horse reared away from her master.

  But Tom couldn’t find the snake. He dropped the stick and looked darkly at Grace. ‘There’s no snake here. And keep your voice down. You’re upsetting the horse.’

  But Grace knew what she had seen. ‘There was a snake, sir. I saw it with my own eyes! You must lead Glory away!’

  Tom stroked his horse’s neck. ‘Hush girl, hush there . . . ’ He turned back to Grace. ‘Get down to the cornfield. You’re supposed to be watching over my corn, not standing around telling me what to do with my horse!’

  Grace knew she shouldn’t have been watching Tom. But she knew, too, that if she hadn’t called out, the snake would still have been slithering towards Glory. Maybe it would have bitten her.

  Grace was still shaking from the fright the snake had given her and the words burst out of her. ‘I know what I saw, sir. It was a snake and it was coming for Glory!’

  ‘I told you to mind your business and get to the cornfield!’ Tom snapped. ‘There’s no blasted snake here!’

  Grace suspected she was not a very good servant, but she knew she was no liar. She turned towards the trail, her heart pounding and her legs shaking. ‘I saw it with my own eyes,’ she whispered to herself. The ground spun beneath her feet. When she looked down it seemed very far away. She couldn’t believe that she had spoken to her master like that. But it had been right to call out and warn him about the snake. Grace took a deep breath and kept walking.

  At the end of the week it was time to harvest the corn, but Grace wasn’t tall enough to reach the husks with the husking peg. For the first day Beth helped her husband but he soon sent her back up to the hut.

  ‘He thinks I’m too pregnant,’ she said to Grace. ‘Well, he can do it himself and I’ll show you how to work the garden, since the corn won’t need minding. You must be pleased about that, Grace,’ she said, grinning.

  Beth took Grace to the vegetable patch. She had planted turnips, radishes, onions, pumpkins and cabbages in neat rows on a large square of turned earth.

  ‘It’ll be your job to pull out all these weeds, and pick off these bloomin’ sticky slugs and snails – oh, and water everything,’ she told Grace, plucking at a beetle as it crawled across a leaf on a pumpkin vine.

  ‘Where did you learn to make a vegetable garden, Beth?’ Grace asked as they pulled up fat white and pink turnips from the dark soil. ‘Is that what you did in England?’ Grace had noticed that Beth didn’t mind mentioning the past, but Tom never mentioned it at all.

  ‘Blimey, no!’ she said. ‘I used to sell chestnuts and watercress and violets and anything else I could get at a good price. That is, until I couldn’t afford market price and I stole myself some fine lace to sell. That’s how I ended up here.’

  It was easy for Grace to imagine being on the convict ship with Beth, or buying roast chestnuts from her on the streets of London. Grace already felt as if she had known Beth a long time, even though it hadn’t been long at all.

  ‘But if I hadn’t learned how to garden,’ Beth continued, ‘we’d have nothing to eat out here but bloomin’ kangaroo. I talk to a couple of the other wives when I go into town, and Jerry has shown me a few things. Plenty of convicts and settlers go hungry just because they don’t want to get their hands dirty or eat anything that they didn’t eat back in England. All they want is beef and mutton. But I’ll try anything – and so will Tom. He taught himself to catch fish by watching the other coves on the river.’

  As Grace looked down, she was caught by surprise. A fat white grub was wriggling across her hand. ‘Aaahhhhh!’ she shrieked.

  Beth laughed. ‘I’ll bet that grub would taste good with a bit of sugar and butter! Why don’t you give it a try, Grace?’

  ‘Uch!’ Grace laughed too. ‘No, thank
you!’

  ‘Oh, go on, what’s wrong with you?’ Beth picked the wriggling worm off Grace’s wrist and dangled it over her own mouth.

  ‘Beth, no!’ Grace giggled, trying to grab it from Beth’s hand.

  Beth opened her hands wide to show there was no worm. ‘As if I would! What do you take me for?’

  Grace curtsied. ‘A lady, just like me!’

  Sometimes when Beth joked around, she reminded Grace of a wild girl, and not a mistress and a landowner and a mother-to-be. It made Grace like her even more.

  ‘And you are quite the lady – a very pretty one at that. Have you seen yourself lately?’ Beth took Grace’s hand. ‘Come with me.’

  Grace followed her mistress into the hut. Beth went behind the partition and returned to the kitchen with a small mirror.

  ‘Now take a look at yourself, my lady!’ Beth handed the mirror to Grace. ‘You have grown quite bonny since you arrived. When I first saw you, what a pale, thin thing you were, with no colour in your cheeks and no meat on your bones.’

  Grace took the mirror from Beth and looked at her reflection. She hardly recognised herself. Her skin had turned a golden brown and there was a fine peppering of freckles across her nose. Her eyes shone back at her brightly, and though her hair could have been neater, it too looked shiny.

  ‘I look – I look well!’ Grace blurted.

  ‘You do indeed,’ Beth smiled. ‘It’s all that kangaroo, sunshine and hard work. Now, my fine lady, let us take to the garden and dig us up some snails for our dinner!’ Grace laughed and her sunny new reflection laughed with her.

  That night, Grace, Beth and Tom ate their evening meal together for the last time before Tom left for the week. As soon as he sat down, he turned to Grace. ‘I want you to do all the heavier chores while I’m away,’ he said. ‘I’ve cut a pile of wood for the fire – make sure the house always has enough so that Beth won’t have to carry it inside.’

  ‘Yes, sir. I mean, yes M–’

  ‘Tom!’ Beth cut in. ‘I’m not a bloomin’ invalid. I’m just having a baby!’ She tugged playfully on her husband’s shirtsleeve.