Thunder Children

By Kate Stirling

Her memories of her wretched childhood on the gumfields of the Northern Wairoa have a lasting effect on Jessica Jackson whose efforts to protect her children from hardship lead to her downfall. This second book in the Trilogy is set on the Kaipara Harbour also; this time during the mid-nineteen hundreds against a background of New Zealand history.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Stirling
• Release date: Dec 1, 2010
• ISBN: 9780473192204

Kate Stirling

I enjoy writing, also helping seniors to learn to manage their computers. Other fav occupations are gardening, reading, painting, (pics not houses), and travel. Also I enjoy my little dog, Hobie. He is such a good companion when I am writing. Have now got all three books of the Kaipara Trilogy printed plus on Smashwords ebooks. If you love New Zealand you will enjoy discovering more about its clean green image and these books will help you do that. My bio Lucie was available from November 2012, several childrens books and another trilogy on the way.

Book preview

Thunder Children

by

Kate Stirling

Smashwords Edition

[e-mail]

Copyright 2010 Kate Stirling

ISBN 978-0-473-18129-1

November 2010

This eBook is also available at most online retailers

Thunder Children

The winter of 1936 was a hard one, with continuous frosts and then rain, every day for weeks. Later, as the spring came there would be thunder storms and floods but now it was simply cold. The gum-fields of the Kaipara were not pleasant, even in good weather but in winter, they were abysmally bleak and miserable.

In a sheltered hollow, high above flood water levels, a solitary whare, a shack, stood surrounded by heavy fog that muffled sounds and cast an air of mystery around the place. Inside the punga walls a family slept fitfully, the cold seeping almost into their bones. Even the birds, usually so prolific and noisy were still huddled out of the cold.

In the gloom, six year old Jessica sat up slowly on her rough sacking hammock and peered through the early morning gloom at her parents’ bed. Her father’s form was barely discernable behind the bulk of her pregnant mother.

The wind whispered in through the cracks in the punga log wall as the child quietly pulled the thick coat closer round her shoulders and tried to find a comfortable spot in the hammock. The old grey blanket that covered the sacking had slipped down in the night and now formed a hard ridge in the middle. She tugged futilely at the blanket then curled herself into a ball, avoiding the ridge and squinting dreamily at a chink of light in the punga frond thatch roof.

‘Come on, you two! Time to get moving! A lot of work to be done today.’

William Jackson’s voice snapped her wide awake. For all his rough tone her father’s voice was gentle. He climbed out of bed, ruffled his wife’s hair and gave Jessica a light tap on the rump as he passed her hammock.

Jessica yawned hugely and he protested,

‘Good grief, child, put a hand in front of your mouth when you yawn! I can see what you had for dinner last night! It’s still all in a heap down there!’

She smiled blearily at him, shivering in the half light as her mother dragged herself wearily from her bed. Caroline pushed back a mane of hair and went to the fireplace where she stirred the embers before adding a few sticks. Jessica stood close to the warm ashes and peered up the gap between the whare walls and the free standing corrugated iron chimney that towered above her, smoke already curling from its top and staining the early morning fog. At night, she could sometimes see the stars through this gap but now all was white outside.

Caroline filled a dish with the lukewarm water from the kettle that had been on a small metal stand in the ashes at the back of the fireplace all night and set it on the bench outside the door. Then she washed herself quickly, leaving the water for her husband to use.

‘The weather must be getting better.’ she said, ‘That water’s as warm as it’s been for ages.’

Jessica held her breath as she waited, while outside her father washed, splashing water all over his face and making a bellowing sound as the water sloshed from his cupped hands. Then he rubbed soap on his hands and lathered it up, fingers deftly spreading the bubbles neck and into his ears. A further noisy blast came as he leaned over the basin and splashed again to rinse the soap off. Then he stood, eyes tightly shut, water dripping from his face as he groped for the towel.

Jessica thrust the towel into his outstretched hand and he rubbed vigorously. Then he made a sweeping bow, grabbed her tiny form and swung her high above his head. As always there were gales of laughter and she was dumped unceremoniously on his bed of sacks and tree branches.

After a quick wash she pulled the dark print dress over her tousled hair and stood patiently while her mother damped each long, red-gold curl with water and brushed it carefully round her finger. Tidy at last, she presented herself to her father, who as always, professed astonishment.

‘Good grief, Mother, look at the beautiful lady who has come to have breakfast with us. Where do you suppose she can have come from?’

He squatted down beside Jessica, smiling into her eyes as he tied her boot laces.

‘My, but you do look beautiful. You’ll be such a fine lady when you grow up.’

His eyes seemed to peer into the distance as he straightened up.

‘When we make our fortune, you won’t be dressed in flour bags, though I must admit, your mother makes them look very beautiful with all her lovely embroidery. But one day soon, there will be no more living in a one-roomed whare with a dirt floor. No more fossicking for gum to sell. We’ll have a mansion and neither of you will ever do another days work. And I’ll be the proudest man in the world.’

In his mind’s eye he could see a lovely mansion and without realising it, he imagined the mansion built on the site of the cottage at Willow Reach, his childhood home. Willow Reach was built on a low slope overlooking the Kaipara harbour where his family had been ship owners. Later, after his father died, he too had owned a steamer. He had always been happy there, at one with wind, water and waves; his love of the sea and the ships would never leave him.

Now, his eyes settled on Caroline and she smiled in a somewhat preoccupied way as she stood, stirring the porridge and rubbing her back. He had followed her to the gum-fields willingly, just as he had followed her to other places, adoring her and willing to do almost anything just to see her smile. He could wait for the sea.

Caroline ladled out huge dollops of the sticky, steaming porridge into the three plates she had ready while Jessica sat, legs dangling over the edge of her bed.

‘Yes, ‘ he continued, ‘we won’t have a worry in the world. And maybe sometimes, just sometimes, we’ll have sugar and cream on our porridge instead of salt.’

Jessica sat intrigued, a blob of porridge sliding from her spoon into her plate as she considered his last few words.

‘Cream and sugar on porridge? But that would make it pudding, not breakfast.’

Her father tapped the edge of his enamel plate with his spoon, in time with his words.

‘Lots of people,’ tap-tap, ‘have cream and sugar’ tap-tap, ‘on their porridge, every day.’

Jessica eyed him suspiciously, expecting him to break into gales of laughter at her being fooled so easily. When he didn’t, she said doubtfully,

‘Well, why don’t we, then?’

‘No cream and sugar out here in the middle of nowhere, that’s why.’

Breakfast over, Caroline handed Jessica some cloth-wrapped slices of bread and dripping for their morning break, then checked the rough sack pikau, or backpack, with rope shoulder straps to make sure there was enough tea and sugar in the little tins. William slipped the ropes over his shoulders and heaved the pikau up higher as he kissed his wife goodbye. Then he grabbed another large sack that lay on a shelf outside.

‘Back soon. Whistle if you need me; the air’s very still this morning so I’ll hear you okay.’

A few minutes later, Jessica’s boots were pounding as she ran to keep up with her father’s long-legged stride. They soon covered the short distance down the slope to the diggings and once on level ground, she stepped carefully to avoid the sharp pieces of broken fern root that were hidden in the shallow puddles. Either side of the path, the scrub stood ten feet tall and so dense that the track was perpetually in shadow. Apart from a few grasses and reeds and the occasional wild orchid, very little could grow in the dense shade, so the scrub had perfect conditions. Further into the deep bush on the high slopes, starry white clematis spangled the tree tops each spring, its roots hidden in the shade.

Overhead, a large kereru , the native pigeon, flew low, his fat white breast gleaming in the half light and his greenish blue wings creaking noisily as he dropped from a tall tree almost to the ground before swooping up again into the forest canopy. He would be no match for other birds out in the open but in the bush he was king. No bird could manoeuvre better than he. Over-head black tuis quarreled loudly and a fantail flitted eagerly in a column of midges that hung, tiny glittering specks of silver in the still air, spiraling ever upward and drifting slowly as the air current lifted them.

By the time the pair reached the diggings, the sun was already on them, making glowing pools of light on the sticky clay where tiny, delicate red ferns struggled weakly to get a footing. William had begun working at a three foot face the day before and now they both worked quietly, scraping the stiff, grey clay away to expose, every so often, a piece of the sought after gum. From time to time, Jessica crowed exultantly as she prised an extra large piece of gum from the sticky clay and dropped it into her apron, but most lumps were small, about the size of a hen’s egg, some even smaller. Eventually they all went into the sack that lay, open mouthed, nearby.

By the end of the morning when they trudged back to the whare for lunch, William had a good-sized sack to carry as well as an equal amount in his pikau. Jessica, her sacking apron full of smaller pieces she had unearthed, listened happily as her father told her his tales of what life would be like when he made his fortune.

‘You won’t be able to come with me then, you know. You’ll have to stay home and help your mother with the dusting and polishing in our beautiful house.’

Jessica wrinkled her nose,

‘I don’t think I will like this new house you talk of. I don’t want to be inside doing house stuff. I want to be out with you, digging for gum, just like now.’

William ignored her remark, his mind too full of the dreams that made living as they now did bearable.

‘You’ll have your own room with its own little bed in it. All to yourself and - watch that branch! Ooh, too late. Never mind, there you are.’

Without further comment he set his little daughter back on her feet and spread his large hands to scoop up all the gum that had spilled from her apron. Then, crooking his elbow, he wiped her face on the back of his sleeve, the only part not covered with mud. Jessica pursed her lips and stood patiently until he finished and then they proceeded up the slippery clay track without a word. The clay sucked and tugged at her boots and often checked her pace when her foot went deeper than usual. By the time they reached the whare, the mess covered her legs and splattered up over her skirts and apron, even her hair.

At the door they stopped. William slung down the heavy sack and slipped off the pikau, then put out a shallow dish for the contents of the apron. The washbasin was outside the door and he dippered some water into it to get most of the clay from his arms before going inside. As he opened the door, he turned to Jessica,

‘Wait here a minute, eh?’

She nodded and began scraping the mud from her legs with a short piece of blunt knife blade. By the time she was finished, her father had reappeared at the door, holding a thick slice of bread spread with dripping and the rich, dark gravy jelly from the bottom of the fat tin.

‘Eat it out here; your mother’s not too good.’

Curiosity about her mother was stifled by the sight of the bread. She ran the tip of her tongue across the jelly, leaving a track on the exposed fat and then, sitting quietly on her heels, she eagerly devoured the bread, listening all the time to the rustling sounds that told her that he was getting the fire up to brew a billy of tea.

When he reappeared, he sat beside her on an old kerosene box, bread in hand; like hers, thickly coated with dripping, but sprinkled with salt and pepper. She looked up at him with anxious eyes, and he patted her reassuringly,

‘You better stay with your mother for now. She’s getting pretty close to time. Maybe, by tonight you will have a new little brother or sister.’

Jessica nodded, eyes full of questions, mouth full of bread, ‘If she needs -’

‘If she needs me, come and get me. Like you did last year.’ He noted the worry in her eyes, ‘You managed fine and you were a whole year younger.’

Jessica licked her lips and ran her pointy tongue across the dripping again, eyeing the track it made as she said,

‘The baby died last year!’

‘You’ll be fine. Anyway, you only need to call. It’s very quiet here and I’ll be just down the hill. Sound carries well here in the bush.’

A sound caught his attention and he went inside, ducking his head to dodge the low lintel and returning almost at once.

‘I’d better give work a miss this afternoon. You go on down and see what you can do. Don’t go away from the diggings, now. Promise?’

She nodded as she got to her feet and stood there, scuffing her boots in the dirt and rolling the hem of her apron.

‘You might need me here?’

He was too distracted by his wife’s deterioration to say much more, just adding,

‘And keep away from the hole.’

Jessica nodded. The hole was deep and wide and full of water. Over the years, there were many such holes left by determined gum diggers. In their eagerness to get as much gum as possible and led on by the good prices, the men dug deeper and deeper, probably ten or fifteen feet down into the clay until they could go no deeper. When they moved on to another site the silent holes were left filled with water and threatening to an unwary gum seeker.

William turned back into the hut, too preoccupied to notice Jessica’s desperate expression, so she headed slowly towards the diggings; walking backwards at first, hoping he might change his mind and call her. At the spot where the hut was almost out of sight, she paused, took a few steps back towards it, then turned again and plodded on down the slope.

It was almost dusk when she finally returned, a few good sized lumps in her apron. William was sitting, head in hands, on the kerosene box he used for a seat while he scraped gum at night. She was so close she could have touched him before he realised she was there. At the sight of his tear stained face and reddened eyes she let go the corners of her apron, spilling gum at her feet and flung her arms round his neck, howling loudly.

They had another slice of bread and gravy for their evening meal, not speaking; sitting very close together and not looking at the mound of damp clay at the edge of the clearing. The tuis quarrelling overhead did not tempt Jessica to her usual laughter at their antics and finally, when it was dark, they went inside, to sit before the fire watching the dancing shadows on the walls.

William dropped a log onto the embers and a shower of sparks flew up the wide chimney but there was no sign of Jessica’s usual pleasure at the sight of the line of sparkling soldiers going to war up the chimney. After setting the porridge to soak and tidying the work bench they sat together on the edge of William’s bunk, too desolate to think of scraping gum.

When she woke next morning, her father was gone, but the porridge was still warm on the hearth. She sloshed a face cloth in the bowl of lukewarm warm water and washed her face quickly, dressed and then ate miserably as tears rolled down her cheeks. When she had washed her plate at the outside bucket and put it tidily on top of the other two on the shelf, she set off to join her father.

She came upon him quietly. He was standing, back to the track, gazing out across the creek below. The haze from his pipe drifted on the still misty air and Jessica stood watching him as the long shadows shrank. She sighed and he turned, a smile on his tired face.

‘Had some porridge?’

She nodded, eyes not leaving his face.

‘Washed?’

She nodded again.

‘Forgot your hair, though.’

She ignored him and bent to the exposed clay face with the piece of blunt knife blade. If her mother wasn’t there to do her hair, she wouldn’t have her hair done. It was as simple as that to Jessica.

They scratched away in silence, their tools making little flicking noises. The diggings were on the side of a little valley, the only means of dry footed access a five foot thick, moss covered hollow log crossing the tiny stream. They scratched away all morning then sat on their sacks across the stream where the sunlight made for more warmth, devouring their bread and dripping and hot tea from the billy that hung over the little fire.

Then, her meal finished, Jessica stood up, brushed the crumbs from her apron and began the short walk to the diggings by way of the log bridge. She was so busy concentrating on keeping her balance that she forgot about the fern draped hole near the end. Her shriek, as she vanished from view was the first warning William had that all was not well. He leapt to his feet and peered into the hole, to discover his daughter hanging by one leg, caught just behind the knee. As he reached in, she whimpered and he spoke softly, calming her.

‘Don’t worry, little one. I’ll have you out of there in a jiffy. Do you hurt?’

A muffled sound floated up to him, but he couldn’t decide what she had said and with a few quick tugs he hauled her out. The damage was immediately obvious. A large gash ran almost the full width underneath her chin. Her face was pale and her leg grazed where it had caught on the wood. He carried her to the sacks and wiped her chin to assess the damage. She opened her eyes,

‘There is the biggest -.’

‘Hush, child, don’t try to talk just now. Keep that chin still or you’ll bleed to death.’

Her eyes opened wide in alarm and he patted her arm to reassure her.

‘You won’t really, but it is a really deep cut and every movement makes it bleed worse. I’ll carry you home.’ He caught her glance at the little pile of gum, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll come back for it later.’

***

By the time they reached the whare, she was asleep, and William, though not sure whether this was a good sign or not, let her be. She slept for two days, unaware of his ministrations to the wound and waking on the third morning to devour all the food she could find. As she remembered his remarks on the day of the fall, her hand flew to her chin, eyes enormous and full of questions.

William smiled,

‘Yes, It’s okay to talk now. Are you feeling better?’

She nodded, ‘Can we go to work now?’

‘Not today, it’s Sunday and I have to spend it doing the washing and making bread or we’ll be sorry later in the week. You stay there.’

He went outside to where a large drum, sliced in two lengthwise, hung on a cradle of sturdy branches. Underneath, a ti-tree fire smoked vigorously as the water heated for the wash. He piled on huge chunks of wood and returned to prepare the bread.

Jessica scrambled out of the bunk and stood unsteadily in the doorway. She went to the basin and gingerly washed her face, missing the chin area completely. She tried to brush her hair, but it was such a mess that he decided to wash it when the day was warmer.

The outcome was disastrous, the tangled mass, clogged with dried blood was no better for the wash and in the end William very gently snipped the mess away. His little daughter emerged looking like a pixie, all huge eyes and pale face, with a shaggy crop of red-blonde curls on top.

‘I’ll have to go into town in a day or two, when you’re stronger, to send a message to let your Grandfather Courtin know and of course, tell Aunt Julia and then I have to notify the authorities.’

Jessica put her head on one side as she squinted up into the sunlight. Her aunt was not her favourite person by any means. Every time they went into town they called on her and every time Jessica was subjected to the same unblinking scrutiny. Although very little was said, the air of disapproval was very strong and Jessica was always glad to escape back to the camp in the bush with her parents.

‘Will she come here?’

She waited anxiously for her father’s reply.

‘Not likely. She hates the bush, says there are too many wetas and things that creep.’

Jessica let out her breath in a long sigh of relief.

‘I love the bush, ‘specially when you are here.’

He scratched his chin thoughtfully,

‘You can’t stay in the bush forever, you know. It’s no life for a young lady -’

‘Then I won’t be a young lady!’

‘You don’t have much of a choice, since you were born a little girl.’

‘When are we going to town, then?’

‘A couple of days should do it.’

‘Will we be there long?’

‘I shouldn’t think so, but I’ll have to see when we get there.’ He shook his head slowly, ‘I have no doubt Aunt Julia will want to ‘Do her duty by you’ as she likes to put it. She will almost certainly want you to go to school. And we may have to go down to Auckland to see Grandfather Courtin.’

‘Why do I need to go to school? I am doing just fine here with you.’

‘You have to learn to read and write and count; things like that.’

‘My mother taught me how to do all that stuff. I can read the Weekly News and I can count and I can write, already. I don’t need to go to school.’

‘The law says you have to.’

‘Who makes these stupid laws, anyway?’

William sighed miserably,

‘I don’t know, Jessica, but they do and we have to abide by them. Anyway, we had planned to move to town soon so you could go to school.’

Jessica could see she was beaten but she couldn’t give up.

‘I don’t want to go. I want to stay right here and get more gum. I want to stay with my mother!’

Her voice was getting higher with every word and William felt sick. He was no match for her when she made up her mind yet this time he knew he must do what he felt was right.

‘Jessica, the law says I have to do certain things, like let them know your mother is dead and I also have to advise people like your aunt and your grandfather. And I have to send you to school. That’s the law.’

‘Well it’s a stupid law and I don’t want to go!’

But her voice had dropped a little and she clutched the cuff of her sleeve. She was losing energy fast. A small sound made him look closely at the child. She was sitting upright, every muscle in her body rigid as she spoke carefully,

‘What is her duty by me? What does that mean?’

William paused and then almost mumbled,

‘Well, I’m sure she’ll say all sorts of things, like you’ve got to have a mother.’

‘Why! Why do I have to have a mother? Why can’t you be my mother as well as my father?’

He took her trembling hand and pulled her to him.

‘All little girls need a mother to look after them and care for them and teach them things. Aunt Julia has a lovely house in town and - ‘

‘No! I’ve got a mother! I don’t NEED another mother! I won’t HAVE another mother!’

The shrieks rang out in the still air, sending up a flight of brilliant green native parakeets. Jessica fled into the whare, where she flung herself onto her mother’s bed. But there were no tears.

‘I won’t go! I won’t! I want my mother!’

She would not be consoled. Her shrieks grew louder and louder and still there were no tears. William stared in astonishment as she suddenly rolled over, propped herself up on one elbow and screamed at him.

‘Why did my mother have to die? Why not HER!’

She flicked her head in the direction of the town and Julia.

‘I wish I knew. Perhaps the new baby needed her in heaven -’

‘Why should the new baby have her? I was here first. I need her too!’

‘I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t make the rules, God does. We have to do what God says.’

‘I don’t care! I need her the most. I hate God! I never want to hear about Him again! It’s not fair!’

With that she sank back on the bed again, pulled the old coat over her head and gave way to the tears that until then she had refused to allow.

As her sobs subsided, William sat staring miserably at the embers of the fire. What a mess. If only he had been stronger; had resisted Caroline’s ambition to make her own way in the world. Grand-daughter of a very wealthy man, she had defied every dream the old man had for her. Instead she insisted on this romantic folly, living on scraps, digging for gum far out in the cold and wet of the gum fields. But William hadn’t been strong enough; he had wanted only to please her, going along with whatever she wanted, just to see her smile. Now she was gone, along with her unborn babe and William was alone with their little daughter.

***

Before daybreak a couple of days later, they set out for town. It was a long way on the old horse. Jessica rode in front of her father, leaning on him, enjoying the view from such a height and revelling on the nearness of her father.

‘When we make our fortune, we won’t ride a horse.’ he said. ‘We’ll have a carriage and two beautiful greys to pull it. And you will have beautiful dresses and hats and parasols to keep the sun off.’

‘It won’t be the same though,’ she shrugged. William’s breath rushed out as she caught him unawares.

‘Nothing ever is. We will have to make a new life, you and me.’

Jessica turned to look up at her father,

‘What about Aunt Julia? Aren’t you going to tell her about my mother?’

‘Of course I am, silly.’

‘If you do, she’ll want us to live with her, won’t she?’

‘Would you like that? Now that you’ve had time to think about it?’

Jessica shook her head firmly, ‘Not at all.’

If her father became used to the idea of her being with Julia, he might decide to go back to the bush alone and leave her behind. Her voice was sharp as she continued,

‘I don’t want to live in town, ‘specially if you’re not there.’

‘You realise that even if your mother had lived, we would not have stayed there much longer?’

‘Why not? I like it.’

‘The bush is no place for a girl to grow up. You need to be meeting other children; otherwise you’ll never learn to mix with other people.’

‘That wouldn’t matter if we stayed there, would it?’

She fell silent and after a spell, pointed out a wood pigeon.

On their arrival in town they went directly to Julia’s house. A lovely timber house with wide shady verandahs on three sides, it was typical of many houses in the district. Carefully tended lawns and gardens hinted at Britain, though the backdrop of native trees with their dark olive colouring kept the overall impression of the antipodes.

Julia snatched off her apron and little white cap, stuffing them behind a cushion as, her short legs seeming to scurry on the wooden floor, she bustled to answer the door. She smiled widely as she saw who was there.

‘William, how lovely! ‘

Her expression changed as she saw Jessica’s sad little face.

‘William, what is it? What on earth has happened?’

Jessica’s words tumbled out before he could answer.

‘My mother’s gone to be with God and I’m not coming to live here. And I hate God for letting her die!’

Julia held up a hand,

‘Jessica, let your father speak. You can have a turn later. This is adults’ business.’

Jessica scowled but she said no more. William’s few brief words were all it took to reduce Julia to tears. She sank to her knees and held out her arms to the child.

‘Oh, you poor little pet. Come here.’

Despite the warning voice in her mind, Jessica found herself in her aunt’s warm embrace and relaxed a little as Julia kissed the top of her shorn head. The gentle hands reminded her of her mother’s touch and she leaned back, soaking up the love that flowed.

‘I cut my chin, see?’

She tilted her head to show Julia, who gasped at the red scar that ran from under the point of her jaw on one side of her head to almost the same point on the other side.

‘How on earth did she do that?’

William explained, Jessica filling in small details that she thought important. Julia, for all her sympathy made a mental note that the child still had too much to say for herself. Jessica’s next words caught her attention.

‘- and when we go back, I’m going to get it.’

‘Get what, child?’

‘The gum. In the log. I just told you.’

William leaned forward staring at the child as she looked, puzzled, from one adult to the other.

‘Tell me that bit again. The bit about the gum. I must have missed it.’

‘When I was hanging upside down in the log, I saw a huge lump of gum, in the log with me. I’ll show you when we get back home.’

Julia stared at the child, unsure of what was going on.

‘Are you sure? You’re not teasing me, are you?’

‘I do not tease, Aunt Julia.’ She said sternly. ‘Only my father teases.’

She turned her attention back to her food, oblivious to the amused glances over her head.

‘Put in my place, as usual.’

Julia smiled, sending the child out onto the lawn with her feast. Then she tackled William.

‘Now look, I’m sorry for what happened to Caroline, I really am, but you brought this upon yourselves. You could have moved into Mother’s house at Willow Reach but Caroline didn’t want that. You could have lived on the allowance her Grandfather arranged for her, but she didn’t want that either.’

William sat, face gaunt.

‘I know you’re right but you don’t need to keep on about it. I need to think what to do now. I have to plan for our future.’

Julia knelt beside his chair, looking up into his face,

‘William, you are a good man, just too soft, too kind. Now, I have a suggestion. How about you two move in here with me, unless you want to live at Willow Reach?’

He ran hand across his brow,

‘Willow Reach is too far from schools. Caroline taught her to read and write and do simple sums but soon she has to go to school.’

‘Well, you can’t go on scratching away out there on your own. The child needs care and training. I know what you are going to say, but hear me out. What about all the things that go to make a young lady of her. The education you two were giving her is not enough, not even here in New Zealand. At the moment it doesn’t matter that she runs barefoot and wild but if you want her to make a good marriage, she can’t stay as unkempt as she is right now. People have long memories.’

Julia looked up to see Jessica standing in the doorway, her mug in her hands and her face scarlet, her dark eyes ablaze. She put the mug down with a sharp movement and spat out at Julia.

‘I’m going with my father. He needs me. I’m never going to marry and when Father gets rich and we live in a mansion and have two greys and a carriage, he won’t care if I haven’t been to school.’

Julia spoke slowly, carefully,

‘Your father will care and when you are older, you will care too.’

‘He won’t care! He loves me! And I will never care!’

‘He will always love you but he will care when he sees you sad because no-one wants to be with you.’

‘I’ll be too busy polishing and cleaning to care if people don’t want me! So there!’

She put her nose in the air and Julia was hard put to keep her hand at her side. If ever a small bottom needed a good spanking, it was this one.

Jessica turned to her father and said, archly,

’It’s time we went home.’

William stood looking from the angry child to his frustrated sister.

‘The time is not right, Julia. I’ll be back soon and we’ll talk then. I don’t want any more upheavals right now. It can’t be good.’

Julia looked at the now openly triumphant child, wondering how she would ever keep her temper with such outspoken-ness. They went to the door and paused while Julia kissed them both. Then with shrewd logic, she knelt by the child, taking both small hands in hers and looking deep into Jessica’s eyes she said softly,

‘You know, Jessica, I think you are quite right. Your father does need your help and that’s what matters most. But I only have you and your father, so will you please take care of him and make sure he comes to visit me? I give you my word I will not try to take you away from him, ever!’

Jessica eyed her aunt gravely for a few moments before nodding formally,

‘It will be a pleasure, Aunt.’

Julia struggled to keep a straight face, not daring to look at her brother. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him shaking with suppressed laughter. It was a relief to close the door behind them and relax into gales of laughter.

"Where on earth she gets it all from, I can’t imagine!’

CHAPTER TWO

A strong wind whipped across the autumn air as the horse plodded slowly down the road. William shrugged as he eyed the weather,

‘Bad weather coming. I guess we’ll have to go back to Julia. No good being out in this weather.’

‘I love thunderstorms!’ Jessica shouted as she turned her small face to the skies.

William spurred the horse along a bit faster,

‘Well, the horse doesn’t.’

He pulled his sou’ wester down over his eyes and spread his long oilskin rain cape to cover Jessica, leaving only a tiny space for her to peer out, like a chick under a hen. She huddled inside, warm and safe, clinging to an inside pocket to keep her balance.

Julia met them at the door, smiling, her arms held wide in greeting.

‘I thought you might be back sooner than you expected. I made up a couple of beds in case.’

As she led them back to the room they had so recently vacated, the storm unleashed its full fury. Thunder howled and the lightning flashed simultaneously. Rain crashed down, flooding the paths and making muddy torrents run down the road. Julia lit the lamps and placed them in their brackets, their light wavering in the draughts that forced themselves in under the doors.

From time to time, a flicker of light showed at the edges of the heavy drapes she had pulled across the windows and she bustled about covering all the mirrors with thick blankets.

‘Just in case the lightning gets them.’ She said to no-one in particular. ‘It could shatter them to bits if it did. I hate these storms, so noisy and dangerous.’

Jessica stood uncertainly as her aunt rushed about. She was puzzled by the woman’s fear, so obvious in her panicky movements and gasping breath. After a time, she shrugged. There was nothing she could do to help.

She let herself out the back door, closing it carefully behind her and went out onto the now drenched verandah, past the dairy door and down the wooden steps into the wind and rain. It was much lighter outside than she expected, lessening the impact of the next mighty flash.

She stood, fascinated, at one with the storm and then, in a matter of seconds, she was scrambling up a wildly swaying fruit tree to cling like a little animal. Her wet hair stuck close to her head as she shrieked with delight and her skirts flapped heavily round her ankles.

William went out to the stables where he settled the horse for the night, then pulled his collar up and ran back