Читать книгу Grand Deceptions - G. S. Willmott - Страница 19

Where can we hide in fair weather, we orphans of the storm?

Author: Evelyn Waugh

It is health that is real wealth and not pieces of gold and silver.

Mahatma Gandhi

The Advantaged

Mathew arranged for the second bedroom in his suite to be converted into a nursery. The third became Sarah’s room.

Mathew was besotted with Emma. He would visit her on his lunch break and could hardly wait for his day at the hotel to end so he could spend time with her. No longer did he drink in the bar with patrons and rarely ate in the dining room with friends.

As the little girl developed his love for her grew by the time she reached five years old she was ready for her first day at school.

February 1, 1863

‘Emma, are you ready? We need to leave in five minutes?’ Mathew called out.

‘Do you think I look pretty in my new uniform Nanny? I want to please Daddy.’

‘You look splendid, Emma. Come on, grab your school bag, and we can show Daddy how pretty you look.’

Sarah and Emma entered the parlour where Mathew was sitting on the chesterfield going over some papers.

‘How do I look, Daddy?’

‘Darling, you look beautiful. I like your plaits.’

‘Nanny did them for me.’

‘I don’t know how Emma and I would cope without you, Sarah.’

The nanny smiled. ‘It’s my job.’

‘I think it’s more than just a job, Sarah.’

‘You’re probably right.’

Emma had been enrolled in Queens Grammar School, a newly created Anglican school servicing Ballarat and surrounding areas.

Queens Grammar School

Mathew’s hotel was within walking distance of the school and they began their journey to a new life together. Mathew held Emma’s right hand, Sarah, her left, as they approached the impressive building and entered the front gates. Emma had some trepidation, Mathew was full of hope, and Sarah was concerned she may soon lose her job.

There was a blackboard in the foyer directing first-year pupils to proceed to classroom 1B. When they entered the classroom, they were confronted with some boys and girls crying, begging their parents not to leave, but the majority of pupils were quietly seated at their desks.

The teacher, Miss Woods, welcomed Emma to Queens and suggested she sit next to a girl who also had her hair plaited. Her name was Jane.

The first day at school mainly comprised of Miss Woods reading The Water Babies by Charles Kingsley.

The class also partook in some very messy finger painting; fortunately, they were all given smocks to wear.

At 3 pm, Sarah along with the mothers of the children who waited outside the classroom to walk their children home.

‘Is this your mummy?’ Jane asked. ‘Emma, she’s pretty.’

‘No, she’s my nanny. I don’t have a mummy.’

‘How come?’ asked Jane.

‘My mummy died when having me.’

‘Oh, that’s sad.’

‘My nanny makes up for it. She takes care of me.’

Mathew felt it was best to keep Emma’s history a secret from her. He hadn’t decided whether he would divulge the truth when she was much older.

When Emma and Sarah arrived back at the Golden Nugget Mathew was waiting for them with a surprise to announce.

‘So, young lady how was your first day at school?’

‘It was good thank you, Daddy.’

‘Well, tell me all about it.’

‘We did finger painting. Here, I brought you my painting. The teacher also read to us.’

‘Did you make any new friends?’

‘Yes, Jane. She’s my best friend.’

‘That’s wonderful! Do you feel like going for a walk with me now? I’ve got something to show you.’

‘Yes, that sounds exciting.’

‘I’d like you to come with us Sarah. I’d like you to see it as well.’

‘Sounds interesting, Mathew.’

The three of them walked down the main street of Ballarat and then turned into Lyons Street where Mathew stopped in front of a beautiful home.

‘So, ladies, what do you think?’

‘It’s beautiful, Mathew,’ said Sarah.

‘Who lives in there, Daddy?’

‘You do darling! This is our new home.’

‘Really? Can we go inside?’

‘Of course we can. It’s our house.’

‘You never cease to amaze me, Mathew,’ said Sarah, shaking her head.

They all walked up the front path… well, Emma ran up the pathway.

As they approached the front door, Mathew turned to Sarah and said, ‘I’ve decided to call the residence Abernethy House after my parents’ estate in England.’

‘I’ve heard of Abernethy Manor. Is that your family estate Mathew?’

‘Yes, it’s been in my family since Henry VIII’s rule.’

‘Again, you never cease to amaze me.’

‘Come on Sarah, I’ll show you through.’

The house was magnificent. It boasted a large living room and dining room and also an extensive library. There were six bedrooms including the master, plus a large kitchen with two wood-fired ovens.

‘Emma, which bedroom would you like, darling?’ asked her father.

‘I don’t care as long as it’s next to yours, Daddy.’

Both Mathew and Sarah laughed.

‘What about you, Sarah?’

‘I don’t mind as long as it’s next to yours.’

They smiled at one another.

‘Seriously do you have a preference?’

‘Well, I think I should be close to Emma just in case she needs me through the night.’

‘Right, well, that’s settled! Everybody is happy with their sleeping arrangements. We move into Abernethy in two weeks’ time, so we’d better all get organised.’

As they were walking back to the hotel, Sarah enquired why Mathew had decided to purchase the house.

Mathew shrugged. ‘I just thought it was time Emma grew up in a normal environment. Living in a pub is hardly normal.’

The Disadvantaged

Gordon Huston, Emma’s biological brother, took an entirely different path after his mother gave up the twins. Soon after birth, he was taken to the Ballarat and District Orphanage to be cared for and housed.

He received no real attention. The only time he felt the touch of another human being was when he was given his bottle at feeding time or his nappy was changed.

As he developed into a toddler, he began to experience the wrath of his carers. Beatings were not uncommon for the simplest of misdemeanours.

In winter, he slept in a cold, dank dormitory with thirty-nine other orphan boys. Ballarat had a reputation for being freezing cold in winter and stifling hot in summer and the orphanage was not designed to handle either.

At the age of five, he attended the orphanage school where he learnt to read and write at a very elementary level. The administration wasn't much interested in their charge’s education as they preferred the children to work in the vegetable gardens and care for the sheep and cattle. This farming enterprise raised significant funds, which were not invested back into the running of the orphanage. The money went straight into the staff’s pockets.

At night, if one of the masters heard a boy crying, he would order every boy to get out and stand at the end of his bed. He would then examine every boy’s eyes to determine who the cry baby was. Once discovered, the boy would be beaten with a cane as punishment.

This was the environment Gordon suffered under. At the age of ten, he was sleeping soundly in the dorm when he felt a hand down the front of his pyjamas. He gasped, but a large hand covered his mouth.

‘Shut up you little grub, or I’ll make life hell for you.’

The master abused the young boy for the next thirty minutes doing unspeakable things. He then left Gordon crying into his pillow, fearing he would be beaten.

The next morning Gordon knew what he needed to do. He was not going to report the abuse as he was aware other boys had been abused for years. He needed to escape from the orphanage, never to return.

He started to formulate his escape plan and after considering the options, he decided his best chance was to make the break when he was in the sheep paddock. Once he got through the barbed wire fence he’d make his way to the railway station where he intended to sneak onto a freight wagon heading for Melbourne.

July 3, 1868

Gordon woke at 6 am as usual, dressed and headed for the sheep paddock where he was required to ensure the sheep had sufficient water for the day. He also fed the flock with fresh hay. This was part of his daily routine, but climbing through the fence and running towards Ballarat was not.

The young fugitive arrived at the station at 7 am and hid amongst the rhododendrons which lined the platform. He’d been in his hiding place for fifteen minutes when he heard the steam train approaching. The locomotive pulled into the platform, slowly blowing its whistle as it came to a stop. Gordon waited until he heard the second whistle alerting passengers it was about to depart. The young boy quickly ran to the freight wagon, slid the heavy door opened and jumped inside just as the train was moving off.

He hid behind two bales of wool, and the gentle rocking of the carriage put him to sleep. He woke to the sound of voices. Railway employees were unloading the cargo at Spencer Street Station, Melbourne. Gordon knew he would need to make a fast exit, so he jumped up and ran for his life. Despite the demands to stop, he just kept running through the exit, past the ticket inspector and out into the street. As he ran through the streets of Melbourne a feeling of freedom overtook him; nobody knew who he was or where he came from. He was anonymous, and he was free.

Gordon had saved some money from the paltry allowance he had been paid for his work at the orphanage, but it was not enough to live on. His next challenge was to survive on the streets.

Gordon would join the hundreds of street kids nicknamed “Street Arabs” who roamed the inner city of Melbourne. These kids used their cunning to prey on unsuspecting adults, stealing money and food, enabling them to survive and in a few cases, thrive.

The young fugitive from Ballarat was inducted into a gang of forty boys and girls calling themselves “The Melbourne Gang” who he met while sleeping in the Botanical Gardens.

They used all their cunning in robbing from the more fortunate including dropping a gold ring, which was previously stolen at the foot of an unsuspecting victim. One of the gang members would point to the ring, suggesting it had been dropped by the gentleman or lady. When the victim denied the ring was theirs the street urchin would insist they keep it. Once it was accepted, the street kid asked for money and usually an argument would erupt. During the fracas, another gang member would pick the gentleman’s pocket or steal the lady’s handbag and run off.

A more common but unsophisticated scam was begging in the street. The gang usually seconded the youngest boys and girls to perform this task.

The older boys tended to work in pairs. One would distract the victim while the other pickpocketed the gentleman’s wallet.

All in all, the gang made enough to survive. They slept in the Botanical Gardens, finding shelter in the rotundas that were located around the gardens.

Gordon was happy for he no longer was beaten or sexually abused and kept company with kids that came from similar backgrounds.

Gordon