Beyond The Blue Mountains

Sharp as a packet of needles, this child was. I wish she was mine. Golly, wouldn’t I love her. A regular one she’ll be when she grows up; she’ll be the honey and the men will be the flies. I reckon I see a nice match being made up there for her. Madame Carolan will want the best for her daughter. And where would she be, eh, if the first Mrs. Masterman hadn’t died at exactly the right minute! Did she do it? Or did she egg him on to do it? Not the master! I wouldn’t believe that of the master. But her … “Your Mamma did get on better than me.”

“You mean when the First Wife died, she married my Papa. If he had married you, would you have smelt of violets?”

Margery came as near to blushing as she could. The idea of the master so far forgetting himself as to marry her!

There was never any question of your father’s marrying me, you silly baby!” she said angrily.

There was only a question of his marrying my Mamma?”

“Of course. What do you take him for! He was never one for ru

“Wasn’t he, Margery?”

“He married, and there was an end of it.”

“No it wasn’t, Margery. There was the First Wife, and then there was Mamma.”

“You’re too sharp by half!”

“Margery, where was Mamma when he was married to the First Wife?”

She was getting to know too much. If Margery let out that her precious Mamma was an ex-convict, there’d be the very devil to pay. And I wouldn’t want to come up against Madame Carolan, no. thank you. At present there was a mocking affection between them, a little light blackmail practised by them both. Margery often thought, when the mistress came to the kitchen to give her orders and across the table their eyes met. Why, I could tell a few things to those children of yours. I could tell ‘em how you first come to my kitchen, a shivering, lousy scrap with your loveliness hid in filth; I could whisper outside how you was always up in the mistress’s room aye, and in the master’s room too. I could give a few hints that it was more than likely you had something to do with that sudden death of hers.

And Carolan’s green eyes said I could tell what you were up to down here … James creeping into the basement… The way you used to squirm and wriggle on that bed … in front of the others. Who is it now? Not James, for he’s married to Jin, and she doubtless keeps him in order by showing him the knife she wears concealed in her clothes. But there is someone. The master would not want that sort of thing going on in his basement!

No, by God he wouldn’t! And when it goes on upstairs it’s different, eh? Even when it’s necessary to put a poor sick lady out of the way to straighten things out! Not that Margery’d tell. Why, she’d half murder anyone who hinted a word of it … anyone from outside. Her master and mistress were the best in Sydney, she’d maintain. And without a doubt it was upstairs Madame Carolan belonged, not down here in the kitchen. Still, there was no harm in thinking about it when you were in your own kitchen, even though sometimes it did give you a fu

But now this little imp had stumbled on something. Surely the most inquisitive child that ever was. So pretty though … you could eat her, bless her… and fond of old Margery too.

“Margery, where was Mamma__? You know…”

Now that would be dangerous. Keep off that!

“How should I know? A man’s second wife don’t usually put in an appearance till his first’s dead and buried.”

That satisfied her, made her pensive.

“She lived on the first floor, didn’t she ?”

“Who?”

The First Wife.”

“Well, yes… she did.”

“I know what it is. Mamma’s afraid.”

“Afraid? What of?”

Katharine leaned right over and whispered to Margery, because Poll’s mop was getting nearer and nearer.

“Of her ghost!”

Margery was very superstitious; she began to tremble like a jelly. Could it really be? What did the child know? There was something in the house … come to think of it, had been for a long time … She couldn’t lay a name to it, couldn’t explain it. Just something… “Did she tell you?”

“Oh, no! She pretended it wasn’t. You see, I was there.”

“What’s this?”

“I was hiding in the bed and I had the curtains drawn, and poor Mamma thought I was the ghost.”

Margery drew a deep breath.

“You were trying to frighten your poor Mamma. I hope she spanked you hard.”

“She didn’t.”

“She’s saving it up for your Papa to do when he comes home.”

“She isn’t; she laughed. But, Margery, when she came in she must have heard me behind the curtains; she thought I was a ghost… the First Wife!”

“How did you know?”

“I did know, Margery. Perhaps … the First Wife lived down there, didn’t she? And she wouldn’t like Mamma being Papa’s wife now. First Wives don’t, do they?”

“You know too much!”

Margery got to her feet.

“Here, Poll, going to take all day to swab this floor? You’re too slow by half! You’ll be feeling the whip about your shoulders, my girl…”

She wasn’t really thinking of Poll, nor of the floor swabbing, nor of the whip. Madame Carolan had looked frightened, had she! Why? She wasn’t the sort to show fear without a reason. The first Mrs. Masterman … Margery couldn’t remember much what she looked like. Sickly. Fair. Suppose … Oh, just suppose … She had died sudden, hadn’t she! People who’d been wronged came back to haunt them that had wronged them, didn’t they? And Margery had had a hand in it … what you might call an i

People would say. Don’t be silly ,.. ‘twasn’t none of your doing! But how could you know that a ghost saw things that way!

I ain’t going to have much peace as long as I live in this house. And what do ghosts care for houses? If I went, mightn’t it follow me? Oh, Lor’, I’m frightened. Proper scared, that’s me! I wouldn’t have done it if I’d knowed how she’d take it. I wouldn’t think anyone would kill themselves just because another woman was in trouble. Turn her out… that’s what I’d have done; not took drugs!

“I believe you’re frightened,” said Katharine.

“You start thinking again, Miss Know-all!”

“Margery, do you think the First Wife is really angry about Mamma’s being here?”

“No, Miss Nosey. I don’t! And what’s more, I don’t want to hear another word about ghosts and your Mamma. Don’t you know ladies don’t discuss such things in kitchens?”

“No,” said Katharine.

“I didn’t.”

“Well, it’s time you learned. Here! You run along. I’ve got work to do.”

“Oh, Margery, you haven’t got work to do!”

“Whose kitchen is this? Do you want me to put you out and complain to your Mamma?”

“Oh, Margery, I thought you liked me here.”

There’s a time for everything. You’ll get your feet wet. We can’t have Poll holding up her cleaning for you!”

“She usually washes all round us!”

“Well, she ain’t today!”

Margery was seriously rattled. She hadn’t liked the talk about ghosts. She was frightened… that’s what she was.

“Get out, you little faggot you!”

By God, she thought, she’ll be worming everything out of me before I know where I am. It ain’t safe with a Miss Nosey like her about.

You simply could not stay in a kitchen where you so obviously were not wanted. Katharine walked gingerly, but with dignity, over the wet floor of the kitchen. She went out into the yard.

It was hot, but she did not feel the heat as Mamma did. nor as Margery did, nor Amy and Poll; she had been born to it. It would be pleasant, riding beyond the town. The sea was. inviting; it was such a beautiful blue; but no, today was a special day. It was afternoon yet … and ages and ages before darkness fell. She could go far… explore! She loved exploring.