Mick sighed as he took off his hat and made sure that every trace of dirt was off his scuffed old bluchers before he entered the shack. Mighty particular about dirt was Kathleen. The last thing he wanted to do was put her back up. Not now. His wife, a little bird of a woman in her early thirties, primly dressed, black hair screwed up into a no-nonsense bun, sat by the side of the open fire. She looked up as he entered, her blue eyes sharp with suspicion at his appearance so early in the evening. Whats the matter, the pub run out of beer? she enquired, examining his boots for dirt. Ive never known you to come home at eight oclock. Mick sighed. Cant a bloke come back to his wife once in a while? he asked, a sheepish half-grin on his face. Kathleen laid aside the sock she had been darning. You cant be skint. You had nearly ten shillings on you when you left. Have you been at the two-up? No, Ive been talking to some old mates. Do you remember Dan, and Tom, and Paddy? Would that be Dan Shea, the rascal? Id expect you to meet him at the pub. Yes, I remember Dan. Kathleens eyes softened momentarily. She must have been thinking of Dan. I havent seen him in two, maybe three years . . . So what are you doing home, Mick Gleeson, if you could be after drinkin with Dan at the bar? Well, the three of them are heading out in a couple of days, up to Mount Youle, to take a look around. Paddy says why not come with them, so I thought I might. Mick waited hopefully. Oho, so you thought you might, did you? Is this another one of your schemes, Michael Sean Gleeson? Micks heart sank. She only used his full name when he was in trouble. Just when were settled, with a lovely home, the best building in town, with a real floor even, proper glass in the window and all, and me, a good job too, you want to go to Mount Youle and take a look around. It wasnt what she said but the way she said it that made Mick inwardly cringe. It would only be for a few months, mavourneen. You could stay here, keep your job. Ill be back, or send for you. And what makes you think Id be here? Kathleen smoothed out the lap of her navy serge dress. Theres plenty as would be willing to look after me properly, isnt there, now? Mick was sure he could hear her starched petticoat rustle with indignation, but before he could speak, she continued the attack. Did I complain when you dragged me away from my friends and family back in eighty-six to go to the Kimberley? Do you even remember that lovely house? Mick sighed softly. Do you really think I would forget? Gloucester Street, near the church and just across the way from the park. But we had nothing there, pet, nothing. Kathleen continued as if shed never heard him. Did I complain about Yilgarn, and Ashburton? When we moved to the Cross that was going to be our home, too. Well, Im here now, and here I stay. I left Laura. I wont leave Thomas. Sadness washed over Mick as he looked at his wife. She was right, of course. She hadnt complained, not in all the years of moving, always on the tail end of a rush, never one of the lucky ones, never scratching more than a meager living. They had done well this time, here at Bayleys. Not a fortune, but more money than theyd ever seen in their lives. But it might only take one more go, one more piece of luck. Just one, thats all he asked for. After all the bad luck theyd had, it wasnt much to ask. Thomas doesnt need us now. Jesus, Mary and Joseph! If you think for one minute Im going to leave the grave of our child, Michael Sean Gleeson, youre wrong. Ive had to do it once, but never again . . . And now look what youve made me do. Takin the Lords name in vain. If there was a priest in this godforsaken town Id have to be goin to confession again. I didnt mean to be upsetting you. Its just that I wanted to go terrible bad. Kathleen looked at her husband. Mick waited for the outburst, but when it didnt come straight away he braced himself. What was it she saw? I can see it in those Irish blue eyes of yours, Mick. Her voice sounded low and infinitely weary. I can see that fever. Youre desperate to be up and gone, arent you? The gold fever has you in its clutches still, after all thats happened to us. Her eyes wandered to look at the shack, the first permanent home they had had in years. Mick saw it through her eyes. There was the glass at the window now. Not the beautiful ruby glass in the fanlight over the door at Gloucester Street, but glass just the same. And a real brass bed in the corner, covered with the quilt she had made herself. Every day she polished that brass, swept the floor and scrubbed it, ridiculously proud to have wooden boards instead of pressed earth and wogga. They had been living in a tent when Laura died of the typhoid; no water, no shelter from the stifling heat, or the flies. They had still been living in that same tent when Thomas died, too, the last child left to them. Mick had moved heaven and earth to bring in the building materials for this shack, trying everything in his power to help Kathleen overcome her grief, to counter in some way the guilt he felt. It had cost him three hundred pounds, more than most people earned in a year. I cant move again, Mick. I cant go back to that. Not now, not when— She broke off and changed tack. So who was responsible for this idea? Dan, I suppose. Mick shook his head. No, it was Paddys idea, and Tom. And have you thought it through? Where would you be finding water? Were you planning to go swampin, or hadnt you considered that far ahead? Come on, Kathleen. Mick felt insulted. Were not new chums, you know. We know what were doing. Therell be horses, and proper provisions. Oh, Mick, Ive heard this so often before. Were settled here, now. Weve good money coming in, and if only there was more water, everything would be perfect. And besides . . . She paused for a moment, blushing. I think I might have fallen again. He hadnt heard her right. Surely he hadnt heard her right. But he had, and the implications hit him with stunning force. Mick was on his knees in the instant, holding her hands in an urgent grasp. Kathleen, is it true? After all thats happened? Another baby? She nodded. I think so. I wasnt going to tell you yet. Its early days, but if its true I dont want to be on my own. Were settled now, and we can care for this child, not lose it to the dirt and disease like the others. Mick looked for his hat. This changes everything. Ill be back to the pub and tell the blokes I cant be coming with them. A thought occurred to him and he turned at the door. I did say Id be helping with the horses and provisions, though. I wouldnt like to let them down now. I tell you what, Ill stake them for a share in the profits. On his way out of the door he heard one scornful word. Profits?
If only there had been a doctor, or a nurse, even, when Laura and Thomas took sick. Mick had to give himself a shake. No use looking back now. There was talk of a new condenser, too. Water to spare. What a blessed relief that would be!
Paddys back. Ive just seen him. Kathleen, hes carrying more than a hundred ounces! Im heading back with him tomorrow to make a claim. He says they picked it all up in only a few hours! Paddy found a hundred ounces of gold at Mount Youle? Kathleen looked bewildered. No, closer than that. Mick hurried around, finding tea and sugar and flour. There wasnt a moment to waste. This was it! After all these years, this was finally it! This side of Mount Charlotte, and it was Tom, not Paddy, that found it. Come on, woman! Get my provisions together. This is the big chance. At last. At long last. A few hours later, forlorn and forgotten, Kathleen watched her husband ride away. So much for her golden dream; a house, their baby growing up healthy and strong, with a school to attend and church on Sunday like a normal family. Damn Paddy Hannan and his gold, she muttered fiercely, pushing the hair out of her eyes to watch the last glimpse of Mick. |