And Those Who Trespass Against Us Read online

  Katherine again struggled to release herself from the vice-like grip. "What about my luggage? All I have is in those two cases."

  "I've got them Sister." Mr. Nelson loaded the meagre luggage into the back of the wagon as Miss Pelham almost lifted Katherine onto the seat on the front of the wagon.

  Mr. Nelson shook his head. "Miss Pelham, mark my words, one day your sharp tongue and forthrightness is going to come back to haunt you."

  Miss Pelham picked up the reins. "And they'll be added to the growing list of troubles I already have."

  She cracked the reins across the flanks of the horse. "Move on," she called, and the horse obeyed her bidding.

  NOTHING COULD HAVE prepared Katherine for the sight of a town destroyed by a dust storm. The scene reminded her of a fairytale she'd read as a child, where an evil giant had stepped on an unsuspecting town, crushing it underfoot. Unlike the fairytale, for this town there didn't seem to be a happy ending. The desperation and pain on the townspeople's faces was the impetus she needed to finally understand Miss Pelham's sense of urgency. She felt guilty about her stubbornness on insisting she adhere so rigidly to the rules of the church when obviously what the townsfolk needed was comfort and reassurance. Katherine's first day in town was a whirlwind of activity, filled with praying for the dead, comforting the survivors, while also quietly mourning the heroic efforts of a nun she never knew. She wasn't sure what the father would say of her actions on his return, but she was ready to stand by her actions, and the situation she'd been unwillingly forced into.

  When she wasn't tending to the spiritual comfort of others, she helped clear rubble or attempted to sweep away some of the incessant dust which stuck in the same manner flies in this country did. Despite the day's tragedy, through her work she was overcome with the most amazing feeling. For once in her life she felt part of something. Yet it was so much more than that. She was doing work which, in Ireland, would have been regarded as only men's work. Even in tragedies such as the mining disasters in her county back home, a woman's duties were restricted to making tea and sandwiches.

  As she toiled amongst the ruins of so many lives, the sun continued to make its way across the sky until the remaining people laboured in dusk, and the first hint of a full moon filled the sky.

  A man in workman's clothes clapped the shoulder of another younger man he'd been talking to. He turned to the workers stacking the remains of a building. "Listen, men, John's told me everyone's accounted for. We're losing light and I don't think there's anything else which can be done today. Besides, I think we could all do with some rest." A murmur from the group reinforced his last words. "Why don't you all head on home. We'll meet here again tomorrow to finish what we started."

  Tired husbands searched for their wives and, on finding them, gave them hearty hugs. For those men, the relief that it hadn't been them who had lost a loved one was evident. After the last families drifted away, Katherine was left with Miss Pelham and the thought of where she would spend the night.

  Katherine attempted to wipe the accumulated dust and blood from the front of her habit but quickly abandoned the idea after realising her hands were hindering rather than aiding her efforts. Lightly slapping her hands, in an attempt to dislodge some of the dirt, she looked at Miss Pelham in the fading light. "I expect I should be on my way home, if only I knew where my lodgings were."

  Miss Pelham wiped her hands on the seat of her pants. She touched her hand to her head and looked around, as if searching for something. "Though it mightn't be much of a comfort now, the town had planned a more appropriate welcome than the one you received." She bent down, picked up her hat and placed it on her head. "Come to think of it though, at least this one was more realistic. Sister Coreen's lodgings are on the same road to my homestead. I should tell you she spent hardly any time there and her reasons for this will become more apparent when we get there. Hop on the wagon and we'll be on our way." Miss Pelham un-tethered the horse from where it had patiently waited throughout the day.

  In the fading light, Katherine struggled to make out any of the features of the town. The shapes she could discern disturbed her. The Town Hall was only one of many buildings which suffered the brunt of the storm. If these dust storms were a regular occurrence, how could anyone endure this day after day?

  Heading out of town they entered another area detached from the remains of the main community. The houses, or the structures which were still standing, were a mix of whatever material was convenient.

  "These houses don't even compare to the size of the tenant houses on my family's estate. They look more like oversized doll-houses." Miss Pelham grunted and Katherine shrugged at her response. Although she couldn't readily describe it, Katherine was unsettled by the uneasy silence of the area. What disturbed her more was Miss Pelham pulling up the horse.

  She slowed the wagon in front of what appeared in the early moonlight to be no more than a mound of tangled wood. "Here you have it. Sister Coreen's home or what's left of it. "

  The abode was nothing more than shattered remains, another victim of the storm which had devastated the town only hours ago.

  Katherine shook her head, finding it difficult to believe the pile of timber and corrugated iron had ever been a home. The realisation of what she was looking at dawned on Katherine, confusing her plans even more. Breaking her gaze from the woodpile, she turned to Miss Pelham. "This may have been where I was supposed to live, but it's quite obvious this is no longer possible. If it isn't too much of an inconvenience, could you take me to the father's residence? I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I spent a night in his home while he's away."

  "Unfortunately the home Father Cleary used to live in was accidentally burnt down last summer by an overzealous housekeeper heating it for his return. Since then, the committee who oversaw the building of the first home has been saving money to construct another." Miss Pelham derisively snorted. "Not that it would be money missed out of their own pockets should they wish to open them. Father Cleary's current residence is the unmarried men's accommodation in town. I'm sure he'd be quite shocked to find you spending the night there, rather than sharing the hospitality of someone's home. You don't have to worry. You can stay with me until a more permanent arrangement can be made." She motioned the horse forward.

  "Are you sure this isn't inconveniencing you in any way? I don't wish to cause you,"

  Miss Pelham cut her off. "For heaven's sake, Sister Flynn, think of where you are and what time it is. It would be quite rude of me not to offer you lodgings for the night." She didn't break the forward movement of the horse and wagon. "Indeed, if I took you back to the Town Hall or the train station, my reputation with some members of the town would be even worse than what it already is."

  What sort of reputation do you possess? Katherine thought. Although I expect now isn't exactly a desirable time for the production of personal references. "In that case thank you for your most generous offer, although I won't inconvenience you for any longer than necessary." Katherine settled herself into the hard wood seat. "You said the house, or the remains of it, was Sister Watson's home although she didn't spend much time there. If she didn't live there and there's no convent, where did she live?"

  "She lived with me and my brother, Alexander, on our property. As you've seen, her house is not located in the best area of town. Apparently, one of the previous pastors, Father McGuire, decided that sisters who came to work in this country should take their vows of poverty literally. While he was cloistered in his comfortable residence, he supervised the building of the sister's house in the poorest part of town. His idea wouldn't have upset the nun who was to be the recipient of the arrangement, except the house wasn't only situated in the poorest part of town but also in the most drunken and thieving area. Not surprisingly, Father McGuire didn't last long. The current father doesn't take the sister's vows of poverty so strictly. He allowed Sister Coreen to live with Alexander and me. She only ever used the house as a retreat for mothers from their drunken
husbands." She craned her neck at the road. "There'll be plenty of time to talk once we reach Gleneagle. For now I need to concentrate on getting us home in one piece and before the bushrangers are out on these roads. If we keep going at this pace, we'll reach home in time to turn around again and return to town to assist in tomorrow's cleanup. Hang on Sister." She urged the horse into a greater, yet controlled, pace.

  Katherine was grateful she heeded the advice. The next part of the trip was nothing like the carriage rides back home. Hurtling along at breakneck speed, the cool evening wind picked up her veil and flailed it in the breeze. Katherine assessed her options of using one hand to hold onto the side of the wagon while using the other to steady her veil. One of the wheels of the wagon hit a rut, causing her to momentarily leave her seat. She opted to hold on and let her veil fare for itself.

  How could anyone drive at such a pace in such poor light? She opened her mouth to comment and, just as quickly, closed it. In the compressed time of her acquaintance with Miss Pelham, she sensed it would be against her better judgment to ask her to slow down. Besides, Katherine thought, this is her country. If anyone should know the standard of the road, then Miss Pelham should.

  Still, Katherine didn't quite know what to make of Miss Pelham. She was so blunt at the station, and yet so gentle with the women and children who waited for their husbands at the end of the day. Despite being in the presence of men, she displayed a complete disregard for her own femininity. Katherine couldn't help but think there was more to the woman who sat beside her. Through the moonlight, Miss Pelham's pre-occupied determination was accentuated by the set of her jaw and the manner she sat forward in her seat, staring into the semi-blackness. Not once did Miss Pelham's concentration wander, and the determination in her face made Katherine feel afraid. Was this what living in this country did to women? Katherine resignedly held on, waiting for their eventual arrival. Luckily she didn't have long to wait.

  The wagon slowed and turned, its wheels connecting with something metal that shook the wagon. Katherine yelped. "What was that?"

  "It's nothing, just a cattle grid." She steered the wagon up a gently winding driveway. "It stops our herd from wandering out of the property when they're in the lower paddocks."

  Katherine attempted to make out what was in front of her. Except for the ambient light of the moon, the darkness had all but engulfed them. Miss Pelham's stance relaxed and she slowed the horse's pace. Katherine finally made out the silhouette of a house.

  "We're here." Miss Pelham brought the horse to a complete stop, and applied the hand brake. "If you wait, I'll come around and get you down."

  "It's kind of you, but there's no need," Katherine said and then proceeded to fall off the wagon into the darkness. She hit the ground with a resounding thud.

  "Are you all right?" Miss Pelham's tone was testimony to her frustration. "I told you I'd help you."

  Flustered and embarrassed, Katherine reacted to the timbre of Miss Pelham's voice. "I heard you. I wasn't expecting alighting could be so difficult."

  "Well, you're off now. Let's hope next time your landing onto terra firma is a much safer one." This time Miss Pelham's tone was more conciliatory.

  "You speak Latin?"

  "Why do you sound so surprised?" The irritation in her voice reasserted itself. "England isn't the only place where you can be educated."

  "I did not mean for it to sound as it did." The lilt in Katherine's voice matched the Irish anger now bubbling to the surface. "And besides I'm not from England."

  "I must say, I'm surprised! A sister with a bad temper. Such a temper should take you far in this country. About as far as the train station I expect."

  "I don't believe this. You've brought me all the way out here, and now you're going to take me back to the train station? That's absurd!"

  "If I was going to do that, you wouldn't be here at all. You've nothing to worry from me. I don't care how forward you are. Believe me, though, the rest of the townsfolk may not be so receptive to your blunt tone and Irish anger." She emphasised the country of Katherine's origin. "This conversation is getting us nowhere." She rubbed her hand across the back of her neck. "Besides, it's getting cold. Let's go inside and see if we can try again."

  The sisters had constantly warned Katherine of her tendency to talk without first measuring her words so she hastened to say, "I'm sorry but it's been a long day for me. I think I'm a bit tired." Katherine pulled her two suitcases out of the back of the wagon.

  "If you wait there, I'll tether the horse and be back. Then we can go inside and I'll fix us a brew or what you know better as a cup of tea." Miss Pelham turned and led the horse into the moonlight and across the yard.

  "Is it possible I could also have a hot bath?" Katherine called after her. "I don't believe I've had a good hot bath since leaving Ireland." Driver and wagon blended into the shadows cast by the full moon.

  It wasn't long and Miss Pelham had returned. "It might take a while, but I think a bath could be arranged." Miss Pelham opened the front door of the house and Katherine followed, suitcases in hand.

  Inside, Miss Pelham reached for a lamp to provide some light to the room. "If you wait here, I'll light this lamp. Hopefully there are still some residual embers in the stove."

  After a few moments, Miss Pelham returned, her features bathed in soft light. "First things first, let me show you to your room. It may not be what you're used to, but it's a bed and a private space all the same." She walked down the hall, the lamp casting a warm glow in front of her as the shadows played off the walls. Katherine picked up her bags and followed, stopping behind Miss Pelham when she opened a door. She motioned Katherine through the entrance.

  Even by the lamp's illumination, Katherine was aware the room was more than she could have expected. "Thank you, this is quite nice and very spacious." She placed her bags on top of the bed. "If it hadn't been for your kindness I don't know where I would have been spending the night."

  "Oh, I do," Miss Pelham replied with an air of assuredness. "You'd have been put up with one of the fine upstanding families of the town and forced to tell them tales of the Old Country all night." Using a taper, she lit the lamp on the bed stand.

  "If that's the case, then thank you for rescuing me. You sound as if you don't have much time for the townsfolk. Have they done something to you to make you feel this way?" Katherine slipped into her more common role of religious confidant.

  "Let's just say the fine, upstanding families' ideals of life and mine differ somewhat. If you like, I'll leave you with your belongings to unpack." Miss Pelham looked at the two meagre suitcases. "I've heard of travelling light but never as light as that," she muttered and turned to leave the room. "I'll finish seeing to the wagon and put some water on."

  Katherine listened to the echo of footfalls as the other woman made her way through the house. She turned back to the room. Its overall size wasn't readily discernible, for the fingers of the lamp's light failed to reach much farther than its immediate surroundings. She moved the lamp onto the dressing table, using the mirror's reflection to increase the light's beam. Katherine gasped.

  The room contained a bedside table, dressing table, hand basin, and a wardrobe. Sitting almost centrally in the room, and opposite a pair of full-length French windows, was a huge double bed. Oh my, she thought, what luxury it will be to be able to stretch out in this bed. Being a sister, and even as a daughter in a fine, country home, she'd never known the extravagance of a double bed. Such pleasures were normally reserved for wedded couples.

  She longed to lie down. "Of course if I do that, I may not get up again." Shaking herself out of her self-indulgent musings, she pulled her Bible from her bag and sat, taking time to recite not only her evening prayers, but prayers for the souls who had lost so much that day. Finally closing her Bible, she placed it on the dresser and began to unpack.

  SATISFIED HER HORSE was settled for the night, Catriona returned to the kitchen, and the kettles she'd set to boil. She checked
the tea kettle and took it off the direct heat of the wood stove. Replacing the lid of the larger simmering kettle, she left it to reach a boil and ambled out of the kitchen to retrieve the metal hipbath stored on the verandah. She paused and turned her face to the night sky. The sky was clear, lit by stars and a full moon. She sighed, finding it hard to believe the devastation that had been brought to bear on this part of the country today. Although country born, she never ceased to be in awe of the way nature could be so kind one moment yet, in the same breath of wind, so wanton. Shaking her head, she bent down, grasped the lip of the metal bath and dragged it toward the kitchen door.

  "Miss Pelham, where are you?" Sister Flynn called, the lamp in her hands flickering in the dim light.

  "I'm getting the bath. The job would be accomplished a lot quicker if you could help me get it into the kitchen."

  Sister Flynn divested herself of the lamp and, moving beside Catriona, grabbed the edge of the metal bath and proceeded to drag it along the verandah toward the back door of the house. "Where do we have the bath?"

  "It's too unwieldy to take far so we usually bathe in the kitchen. Don't worry, I'll close the back door before you bathe." Catriona continued to push the lead-lined bath through the back door entranceway.

  "Things are certainly done differently out here. I don't mean to sound prudish, but didn't you mention you shared this house with your brother? What happens if he should walk in during the bath?"

  "Then I expect he'll see you in your full glory like God intended."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  Catriona held up her hand. "You needn't worry about him making an unexpected entrance. Alexander's away up north and isn't expected back for a few weeks yet. Your privacy, apart from me, is therefore assured." She brought the bath to a halt next to the stove. "While we're waiting for the bigger kettle to boil we'll have that cup of tea. If you don't mind, we'll take tea in the kitchen. It takes a while to light up the parlour. I'm sure, at this time of night, formalities can be dispensed with." She placed two vitreous beige mugs, sugar, and a tin of biscuits on the table. "Truth be told, with only Alexander and I in the house, the parlour is very rarely used."