Читать книгу Loves Me, Loves Me Not - Romantic Association Novelist's - Страница 35

Western Australia, January 1921

When the ship docked at Fremantle, Gracie Bell was on deck with the other passengers. She stared round with a sinking heart. The West Australian port looked so scruffy, like a large village with an untidy collection of tin roofs. The summer heat made sweat trickle down her face. It was like standing in front of a hot oven.

Never mind that, she told herself. In Australia she’d find a more interesting job and make a better life for herself. She wasn’t working as a maid ever again, hated being shut up in a house all day. During the war she’d worked as a conductress on a motor omnibus, but once the war ended she’d lost her lovely job to a soldier returning to England.

She hadn’t emigrated to look for a fellow, though. All her married friends worked like slaves and were always short of money, not to mention having one baby after the other. She didn’t fancy that. Maybe one or two children would be OK, not eight, like her mother.

When she came out of Customs she found her sister, Jane, waiting for her on the dock, looking pregnant, hot and weary, with her husband Tommy beside her. Her brother-in-law had grown fat in Australia, reminding Gracie of an overstuffed cushion. He didn’t look at all tired.

He eyed her up and down, nodded in approval and loaded the luggage on the motor car.

‘Is this your car?’ she asked, trying to make conversation.

‘No. I’ve borrowed it from my friend Bert. He and I work together.’

‘Since we live in Perth, not Fremantle,’ Jane said brightly, ‘this is easier than taking a train into the city. It was very kind of Bert, don’t you think?’

‘Yes.’ She saw that more was required and added, ‘Very kind indeed.’

‘Tommy’s doing ever so well at work. We’re buying our own house now.’

Tommy smirked and, as soon as they set off, dominated the conversation. Talk about bossy! Gracie tried to maintain a polite expression but what she really wanted was to talk to her sister.

Jane, who seemed to have lost all her old spirit, gave her a warning look and shook her head slightly when Gracie mentioned her hopes for the future.

What was going on?

The next day being Sunday, they went to church, then Tommy worked in the garden. Gracie couldn’t believe how many tomatoes there were, just growing in the sun, not needing a greenhouse. She’d never eaten them newly picked before, or peaches, either. They were much nicer than tinned ones.

Bert, Tommy’s best friend, always came to tea on Sundays, and Jane spent her sister’s first day in Australia baking a cake and some scones, red-faced, rubbing her back from time to time. Gracie had hoped to go out sightseeing and said as much.

Jane looked over her shoulder and whispered, ‘We’ll go out during the week. There are some lovely shops in the city. But Tommy likes things to be just so on Sundays, so if you don’t mind helping…?’

They were to eat out on the veranda, so Gracie swept outside and dusted all the furniture there. She tidied up indoors as well, which consisted mainly of picking up after Tommy. Didn’t that man ever carry his own empty teacups back into the kitchen, or put away his daily newspaper?

She was very disappointed in his friend Bert, who was nearly as fat as Tommy and just as fond of his own voice.

During the tea party, conversation was mainly between the two men. As he talked, Bert stared at Gracie in the same assessing way Tommy had, and it made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t know where to turn her eyes.

The hosts insisted on clearing the table and making another pot of tea, which left Bert and Gracie alone.

‘You’re even prettier than your photo.’ He leaned across and, taking her by surprise, planted a big, moist kiss on her lips.

She tried to pull away, but he dragged her to her feet, pressing his body against hers. She wasn’t having that. Stamping on his foot, she scraped her shoe down his shin, causing him to yelp, then she retreated to the other side of the table.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Protecting myself. And I’ll do worse than that if you ever grab me again. How dare you take liberties with me? What sort of person do you think I am?’

‘Aw, come on, Gracie. Don’t be stand-offish. Jane and Tommy have told me so much about you, I’ve been dying to meet you. You can’t blame a fellow for getting carried away.’

Dying to meet her? Alarm bells rang in her head. Just wait till she got her sister alone. She’d find out what was going on.

‘Isn’t Bert a nice fellow?’ Jane said brightly next morning after Tommy had left for work.

‘No.’

Jane looked so horrified, Gracie knew her suspicions were correct. ‘Did you invite me to Australia to pair me off with him? Jane? Answer me.’

‘My goodness, it’s going to be hot again today. I’d better go and water those tomatoes.’

Gracie barred the doorway. ‘You did, didn’t you?’

‘I thought it’d be nice if you lived nearby. And Mum’s been worried about you not marrying, with your young man being killed during the war. There are a lot of spare women now and Bert’s a really good catch. He’ll be foreman after Mr Minchin leaves, you know.’

‘I don’t care how much money he earns. He can only talk about himself and I never did like men with yellow hair and bright pink skin.’

‘Don’t say that to Tommy, please. Why don’t you just…you know…give Bert a chance?’

Gracie pretended to read the newspaper. She found an advert for an employment bureau and tore it out secretly.

The following day, ignoring her sister’s protests and pleas to wait another week or two, she put on her smartest clothes and her best hat. It had an upturned brim decorated by a fabric flower and was worn pulled down to the eyebrows. It showed off her eyes and she had loved it so much that she’d paid thirty shillings for it, a huge extravagance.

She found the employment bureau without difficulty and marched inside, refusing to give in to the butterflies in her stomach. They questioned her about her experience, then offered her a job.

She stared at the woman in dismay. ‘But I told you: I don’t want to work as a maid. I want something more interesting.’

‘There aren’t many other jobs for young women without clerical skills, so it’s either work as a maid or in a shop.’

Gracie had a quick think. If she worked in a shop, she’d have to pay for lodgings and she’d never save any money. Of course, she could stay at her sister’s, but that’d mean putting up with Tommy’s bossiness, not to mention facing Bert’s leers and fumbling hands.

With a sigh, she agreed to consider a live-in maid’s job. But, she vowed to herself, it’d only be for six months. She’d save and look around for something more interesting once she got used to Australia.

‘I have a vacancy on a country homestead in the southwest, working for Mrs Gilsworth. She’s an excellent employer, pays top wages and even provides the uniform.’

Gracie fanned herself. ‘Is it cooler there?’

‘It’s always cooler in the south.’

‘And is there a town nearby? I’ll take it, then.’

‘When can you start? Mrs Gilsworth is rather desperate for help.’

‘Would tomorrow be too soon?’

‘I’ll telephone the local post office and they’ll send her a message. I can find out within two hours, but I’m sure she’ll engage you.’

When Gracie got home, her sister took one look at her and burst into tears. ‘You found a job, didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’ She tried to ask Jane if she knew anything about the southwest but all her sister could do was worry about what Tommy would say.

Tommy said a great deal that evening, like ‘ungrateful’ and ‘taking advantage’, as he chomped his way through an overloaded plate.

Gracie only had to think of Bert to know she was doing the right thing. In the end, she went to bed early to escape the chilly atmosphere.

But she found it hard to sleep, tossing and turning in the narrow, creaking bed. She was more than a bit nervous about going to live over a hundred miles away from the only people she knew in Western Australia.

The next morning Gracie followed the porter into Perth railway station and watched her trunk and suitcase loaded onto the train. Jane had insisted on coming with her and, even at this late stage, tried to persuade her to change her mind.

‘For goodness’ sake, stop nagging! I’m taking this job and that’s that!’

‘But you came all the way to Australia to be with me and—’

‘To make a new life near you! Not for you to marry me off to one of your husband’s friends. I lost one man to the war and if I ever meet another I like enough to marry he’ll be my choice, not yours. And he won’t have yellow hair.’

Gracie was relieved when the train chugged out of Perth station in a cloud of steam. She felt very alone as she stared at the grass, burned beige like straw by the hot Australian sun south of the city, so different from England. She missed the greenery, missed her other brothers and sisters, too.

It was so hot, she took off her gloves and fanned herself with her hat. There wasn’t much to see and she was alone with only her thoughts and worries for company.

She arrived at Bunbury, a hundred miles south, in the early afternoon. She got out of the train smiling determinedly. The other passengers hurried away, but she waited to be met.

A tall man dressed as a chauffeur strode across to her. ‘Miss Bell?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m Finn. Mrs Gilsworth is waiting over there.’

‘I’ve got a trunk to pick up, a blue one.’

‘I’ll see to that.’

His eyes were admiring and Gracie felt flustered. He was nice-looking, with dark hair, twinkling grey-blue eyes and an upright way of holding himself, like many ex-soldiers.

Mrs Gilsworth was plump and expensively dressed. Her eyes narrowed as she looked Gracie up and down. ‘I see Finn found you, Bell. The car is this way.’

Gracie sat in the front next to Finn, who barely said a word, while Mrs Gilsworth never stopped talking about what she had bought at the shops in Bunbury and the dinner party she was giving next week. To hear her talk, Bunbury was a big town. It seemed very small to Gracie.

They drove along country roads, which seemed to get narrower and dustier by the mile. Occasionally, they passed through small clusters of houses. Talk about the ends of the earth! Then at last they turned off on to a long drive to a sprawling wooden house surrounded by verandas and a cluster of farm buildings. Gum trees shaded the house, the leathery leaves a faded green.

It looked very different from the English countryside. Gracie swatted a fly. The scenery wasn’t nearly as pretty here.

Finn drew up at the front door of the homestead and opened the car door for Mrs Gilsworth, then got back in and drove round to the back of the house. He removed his chauffeur’s cap and tossed it on the front seat, rubbing the mark it had made on his forehead. ‘Welcome to Fairgums, Gracie.’

‘The agency didn’t tell me what a long way from town this place was.’ She studied her surroundings.

Finn shrugged. ‘You can save more money in a place like this. Nothing to spend it on.’ He grinned. ‘I like that hat. Makes your eyes look big and mysterious.’

This compliment was so unexpected, she could feel herself flush slightly.

He led the way inside, where he introduced her to Cook, a large motherly woman whose hands never stopped working.

‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Gracie. You look a cheerful lass. The last housemaid was a sourpuss, but she still got herself a husband. They’re real short of women in the country.’

‘I’m not looking for a husband, thank you very much!’

Cook laughed. ‘They’ll come looking for you.’ She wiped her hands. ‘I’d better show you your bedroom, then you can come and help me.’

The room was large, with a single bed and a mosquito net. A black and white uniform was laid out on a chair and several maid’s caps on the chest of drawers.

Cook pointed towards the uniform. ‘That should fit you nicely. She likes the servants to dress up all fancy when we have guests. Just a print dress and apron will do the rest of the time, but she does like her maids to wear a cap.’

Gracie sighed.

Cook smiled sympathetically. ‘I know. Young women don’t like caps, but she’s a bit old-fashioned. She’s all right otherwise, not stingy with the servants’ food.’

Once alone, Gracie stared out of the window. Only cows and fields to be seen. She’d expected there to be other farms nearby, at least. She had a little cry, then scolded herself and changed into a print dress, sighing as she pinned on the starched white cap provided. She hated the dratted things. But at least Mrs Gilsworth paid good wages, far better than they did in England.

Later in the afternoon Cook told Gracie to ring the bell on the back veranda, then take the weight off her feet for a few minutes.

An elderly man who joined them was introduced as the gardener. Finn followed, shirt sleeves rolled up, collar open, looking very manly and energetic. He took a piece of cake and winked at Gracie.

She sipped her tea, grateful for its familiar warmth. ‘How far away is the nearest town?’

‘We drove through it—Beeniup, five miles back.’

She stared at him. ‘That’s not a town. It’s not even a village. What am I going to do on my days off? Is there a cinema anywhere near?’

‘No, but there’s a church social one Saturday a month for the young folk. The missus lets me have the car to drive us into town.’

‘Who’s “us”?’

‘Just me and you at the moment. The other servants are too old for dancing.’

Cook pretended to slap him for saying that and he pretended to be afraid.

He turned back to Gracie. ‘Do you like dancing? You look like you’d be good at it.’

She loved dancing, knew all the latest dance tunes. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to go to a social event with Finn. He was more than a bit cheeky, if you asked her.

Trouble was, he was really good company and as the days passed he made her laugh, cheering her up when she was feeling homesick, which he seemed to sense even though she tried to hide it. He had a little dimple at one corner of his mouth and she kept watching for it. But he was a thinking man, too, asking her about England, where he’d been stationed for a time during the war.

Without his company, she’d have gone mad.

But, occasionally, he stood too close and, for some reason, that set her pulse racing. She always moved away quickly, trying not to let him see how he’d affected her. She didn’t intend to marry another servant, so it was no use starting anything—however attracted you were to a fellow.

Three weeks later, fed up with the isolation, she agreed to go to the church social.

Anything to get away from the homestead. And maybe she’d make some friends in Beeniup.

Her sister had been right: Gracie had made a mistake taking a job out in the country. But six months would soon pass and at least she’d save money. She kept reminding herself of that.

On the day of the church social, Gracie wore her best summer dress, calf-length in soft voile trimmed with lace. It was the same blue as her eyes.

Finn waited for her in the kitchen, looking very spruce in a dark suit and white shirt, his skin rosy and newly washed. He smelled of shaving soap and fresh air.

He let out a long, low whistle at the sight of her. ‘We’re in trouble,’ he told Cook.

Gracie looked down at herself in puzzlement. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Mrs Gilsworth will have a fit when she sees you in that outfit.’

She studied herself in the mirror. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘Nothing! But you look so pretty, she’ll start worrying about you getting married. She’s lost three maids that way in the past eighteen months.’

Flustered, Gracie picked up the small iced cakes Cook had prepared, because women had to take something for supper, it seemed. ‘Well, are we going?’

‘Your carriage awaits, madam.’ He flourished a bow and opened the door.

Their eyes met and her heart skipped a beat. He was a very attractive fellow. But she wasn’t getting tangled up with a servant. She wanted to escape from that.

At the doorway of the church hall she hesitated, suddenly nervous.

Finn smiled at her. ‘Come on! I’ll introduce you to a few people.’ He led the way, nodding and smiling, seeming to know everyone.

He left her with two young women and she enjoyed chatting to them.

‘You are lucky, working with Finn,’ one said, sighing.

Before Gracie could ask why, the music started and fellows crowded round. There seemed to be twice as many young men as there were young women. She danced with three different fellows, enjoying the fuss and attention, even though none of them was a good dancer.

Finn elbowed another man aside as she came off the dance floor the third time. ‘Fancy cooling down outside, Gracie?’

‘That’d be lovely.’

As they walked out together she could see heads turn their way. ‘Why is everyone staring?’

‘Oh, they always watch newcomers.’

A few couples were strolling up and down the scruffy sunburned square of grass behind the hall. The night air was cool and the moonlight bright. Finn made her laugh and they stayed out there for two whole dances.

As they went back inside, he put one hand on his heart. ‘May I ask you for a dance, Miss Bell?’

‘Why certainly, kind sir.’

It was a waltz, her favourite, but being held closely by Finn made her feel breathless again. He was so tall, his teeth white in his suntanned face, his smile seemingly for her alone. He was a good dancer and she relaxed, letting him lead her round the small dance floor.

‘Our steps match well, don’t they?’ he murmured as the waltz ended. ‘Another dance?’

‘That’d be lovely.’

Just before the supper break she went out to the lean-to at the back of the hall to powder her nose.

‘You certainly didn’t waste any time,’ another girl said. ‘Getting Finn for your fellow! I’d give a week’s wages to have him smile at me like that.’

‘What? He’s not my fellow. We just work together.’

‘But he took you walking outside. Round here, that’s a sign you’re courting.’

Fury sizzled through Gracie. The sneaky rat! She wasn’t letting him get away with tricking her like that. If he wanted to court her, he had to ask her first. But surely—no, he couldn’t really be trying to court her! Not so quickly.

She went back inside the hall, marched across to him and said loudly, ‘I’m finished with you, Finn O’Connor! I never want to speak to you again.’ Then she stormed off. She didn’t look at him as she forced down a piece of cake that tasted like sawdust and chatted brightly to another young woman.

‘What did Finn do to upset you?’ the other whispered as Gracie discarded the empty plate.

‘Never you mind. How can I get back to Fairgums without him? Does anyone else go that way?’

‘No, and it’s five miles!’

Gracie scowled across the hall at Finn, who grinned and winked at her. What a nerve! She elevated her nose and looked away.

When the dancing began again, she saw him start towards her and slipped outside. Grimly determined not to drive back with him, still furious at him for tricking her, she stood in the shadows, trying to think what to do. Five miles wasn’t all that far, she decided. She’d walked five miles many a time. She didn’t have a coat to retrieve, not in this heat, and was carrying her handbag. She’d pay for the empty plate out of her wages, if necessary.

Anger carried her along the one and only street of Beeniup at a cracking pace. Apart from the church and its adjacent hall, the town consisted of one general store, a place advertising stock feed and farm supplies, and seven houses. Most people lived out of town on farms, apparently, though she didn’t call this a town, whatever the locals said!

She walked quickly along the road that led to the homestead.

A few minutes later she heard the sound of a car engine behind her and her heart began to pound. She looked round for somewhere to hide. But there were only open fields with wire fences, so she kept on walking, head held high.

Finn stopped the car. ‘Get in, you idiot! There’s no need for you to walk.’

She glared, arms akimbo. ‘I’m not going anywhere with you from now on. How dare you make people think we’re courting?’

He looked at her pleadingly. ‘Because I knew if I didn’t do something, the other blokes would be all over you. I could see the way they were looking at you and…well, I wanted you for myself.’

All the air seemed to vanish from the world. Gracie tried in vain to stay angry. Couldn’t.

He stopped the engine and jumped down.

She couldn’t move, not a step. In the moonlight, Finn looked rather like Douglas Fairbanks, her favourite film star. He was just as handsome. For a moment she wavered, swaying towards him, then she forced herself to turn and start walking again, afraid now of what she might do if he came too close.

He took her by surprise, scooping her up into his arms, laughing softly as she gasped.

‘Let go of me!’ She tried to sound angry, but couldn’t. Of their own volition, her arms slid round his neck. It felt so romantic, so right.

‘I’ll never let you go,’ he said as he set her down gently by the car, helped her inside and closed the door on her side. He got in but didn’t start the engine, just stared ahead, fiddling with the steering wheel.