A Horse Walked Past My Window

By Beverley Johnson

This story is roughly based on my grandparents move to the country at the advice of a doctor. It portrays the life of a family in the early 1900s in a valley near the snowy mountains. It also includes the lives of neighbours.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Apr 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503504721

Beverley Johnson

Beverley was born and raised in the rural parish of Clarendon, Jamaica, where she attended the Content United Brethren Church and its Basic (Kindergarten) school, better known as Sister Betty's school. Growing up, she attended York Town Primary and Denbigh Junior Secondary school, now Denbigh High School. She migrated to Toronto, Canada, as a young adult. A graduate of the University of Toronto and OISE, she is an Elementary teacher by profession, and also a Sunday school teacher. She enjoys reading, writing, travelling and working with children.

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Copyright © 2015 by Beverley Johnson.

ISBN:      Softcover       978-1-5035-0473-8

                eBook            978-1-5035-0472-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 04/16/2015

Xlibris

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www.Xlibris.com.au

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Contents

Chapter 1 The Move

Chapter 2 Early Days

Chapter 3 Visit To The Neighbours

Chapter 4 Meg’s Birthday

Chapter 5 The Longest Night

Chapter 6 Fire

Chapter 7 The Puppy

Chapter 8 Janet Finds A Home

Chapter 9 Sickness

Chapter 10 Bob And Janet

Chapter 11 Meg Goes To The City

Chapter 12 Laura’s Story Unfolds

Chapter 13 Meg Makes A Decision

Chapter 14 The Wedding

Chapter 15 War

Chapter 16 A Surprise For Meg

Chapter 17 A Trip To The Hills

Chapter 18 Laura Leaves The Poplars

Chapter 19 A Wet Night

Chapter 20 A Hard Winter

Chapter 21 A Proposal Of Marriage

Chapter 22 Rain, Rain And More Rain

Chapter 23 An Unhappy Doctor

Chapter 24 An Unwelcome Visitor

Chapter 25 Gold

Chapter 26 Farewell Picnic

Chapter 27 United Nations

Chapter 28 Terry And Laura

Chapter 29 Laura’s Wedding

Chapter 30 A Sleepless Night

Chapter 31 Meg Reminisces

Chapter 1

THE MOVE

The doctor straightened up and slowly slid the heavy gold watch with its thick chain into the pocket of his grey trousers.

Will, I’m afraid if you don’t get out of the city you’ll be dead within two years, he stated.

Will raised himself to a sitting position and glanced towards the heavy doors of his study.

The bank, he hesitated.

The bank be blowed, Will. They’ll find someone else. Consider Meg and the children. The city is getting too hectic. The number of buggies on the road now is astronomical. Think about it my man. In two years I’ll warrant Meg will be a widow.

With that remark he snapped shut his bag and walked briskly from the room. Meg met him in the hall and walked to the door rather than have the maid see him out. The old doctor was a frequent visitor but on his business calls assumed a somewhat formal air.

I’ve told Will he must move away from the pressures he’s under. He will have to find a more relaxed type of life, perhaps in the country. Talk to him Margaret. Meg smiled to herself. Next time he came to dine with them she would be Meg again.

Thank you Doctor. Yes, I’ll discuss it with him. Thank you for calling. She could be equally formal.

His face softening, he laid his hand on her arm for a moment and said, Don’t have any more children, Margaret.

She stood there a moment looking at the wisteria’s bare and twisted rope like vines. Purple buds were starting to appear, the promise of a cloud of blossom and fragrance. Her future was a cloud too. She wondered how the doctor’s remarks would affect their future at Andoma.

*     *     *

It was easier for the horses pulling the wagonette now they were on the downward side of the mountain. They had been some weeks travelling. The children’s excitement had died down as they left the city of Towalba behind, but then revived as they neared their destination. The road dropped sharply and Will, sitting high on the seat at the front, had to apply the brakes to the wheels constantly. The trees were tall, reaching right over the road in some places so they could only see a short distance ahead. Will had made the journey many times making arrangements to begin their new home, putting men on to start work on buildings and fences.

William, his ten year old son, accompanied him on a couple of trips and returned wide-eyed, full of stories of the virgin bush which was to be their home. Meg knew from their tales that the road was steep before it levelled out at the foot of the mountain where they would make a river crossing. She knew that after two more crossings and up another small hill she would be home. William had told her so much she felt she knew exactly what to expect.

Meg and the children were accustomed now to erecting a tent quickly each night while William and Will attended to the horses. Frances, their eldest child of eleven years, helped preparing their meal over a camp fire. The two little ones, Nell four, and toddler Kate, played and explored their new surroundings. Meals were simple, potatoes, and meat from a bag hanging at the back of the wagonette and a damper, which was baked each night in the coals. There were still a few apples left. Sometimes they saw wild spinach, which they gathered while the horses had a quick break.

The wisteria had burst into a cloud of purple fragrance, followed by a dense canopy of greenery. Soon the leaves would yellow and fall. The thick, rough vine would be bare and exposed again. Meg tried not to look back but focus ahead to their new future, new home and a new life. Already William talked as though he had always lived in the bush and spoke rather scornfully of the city dwellers they had left behind. Frances took in every detail she saw and heard and knew she would adapt quickly to this new life style.

The mountain flattened out into the valley and shortly they came to the first river crossing. The horses were glad to drink at length. Then they proceeded to the next crossing and along the road towards home. Meg heaved a sigh of relief as the horses pulled the heavy wagonette from the rocky river bed. This was a thing she feared greatly so had not allowed her mind to dwell upon it. William had described it in detail, which did nothing to allay her fears. She had dared not mention it to Will. But, having reached the bank safely, she released her hold on Nell and Katie and relaxed

The long journey had only a couple of hours left to go when they stopped for the last night.

Their tent erected, they ate a good meal of rabbit baked in the camp oven that William, or Will, had shot as they walked along the darkening track. Being their last evening meal of the journey everyone was in a jolly mood. Will, who usually frowned on any sort of frivolity, made light-hearted remarks and expressed his pleasure at the journey’s end. They went to bed happily with the sound of the river laughing in the distance and the rustle of gum leaves overhead.

Quite suddenly clouds blotted out the moon. After several loud cracks of thunder a downpour descended on the camp.

Everything was always covered at night for protection against the heavy dew, which fell now that they were in the mountains. The air was so much cooler. By dawn the storm had cleared reluctantly, but thunder still rumbled in the distance. The sun was hesitant to make an appearance.

Packing up was slow and uncomfortable with mud clinging to their feet and the tent wet and heavy. Meg had already found their long skirts impractical. During the long days of travelling she and Frances had raised their hems a few inches. Climbing in and out of the wagonette and erecting tents had been greatly hampered by their ankle length skirts.

The track was wet and the wagonette moved slowly onward, the scrub reaching out with moisture-laden branches. The horses sweated. Their breath came from their nostrils like smoke as they strained against the harness. At the bank of the last crossing they stopped. No longer was the river skipping from rock to rock, laughing and tossing showers of diamonds in the air. In its bed was a muddy, sullen, great volume of water, rushing urgently to its destination. They were so close to home and yet so far. Meg’s heart stood still in terror as they all surveyed the situation.

Meg reached for the two little ones as she looked anxiously from the raging torrent to Will. His stone-like face was composed but his heart was uncertain. Never as a bank manager had he difficulty in making a decision. His family was waiting for him to move. He turned to them and said firmly, Well, we didn’t expect it to be a picnic forever. I had hoped we’d make it home before we had any battles to fight. He almost smiled, let’s see what pioneers are made of. His decision made, Meg was resigned to whatever was to follow. The two spare horses tied on behind the wagonette were led to the water’s edge. They sniffed the water as if to test its force. With some encouragement they plunged into its swirling clutches. The crossing was wide. The water was able to spread out so the depth was not great. The horses made it safely to the bank then reached for a clump of grass.

Will checked the floor of the wagonette for things, which must not get wet, sugar, flour and clothes. Then he climbed onto the high seat, looked back at his family and, with a loud shout to the horses and a crack of the whip, they moved forward.

Frances sat still, her hands clenched and her lips tightly together. She was unaware of danger to herself. Her concern was for the horses bound by their harness to the heavy load behind and the crushing weight of the water. William was quiet for perhaps the longest period of his wakefulness while Nell and Katie watched with blissful interest.

Half way across Meg looked upstream to see a great log appear around the bend of the river. She glanced at the bank mentally measuring the distance. The log was closer to them than the bank. A cry rose in her throat, which she suppressed. She knew not if Will had seen it, he was standing now and whipping the horses, already pulling to their capacity. Her heart for a moment ached for them. The log hit a projection and swung around, its full length coming towards them. She glanced again at the bank. It seemed they were still no closer. One of the horses stopped, faltered, then they moved on. The log caught against a rock and turned again spinning behind them, missing the wagonette by inches. At the same time the horses pulled onto the bank. Great rivers of water poured from the floor. The horses were dark with sweat. Froth was boiling from their nostrils.

Meg closed her