Mercy - Oceans Apart

By Sharon Elliott

Book One in the Mulga Station Series

Mercy – Oceans Apart

Paths cross repeatedly in the most unusual situations.

Mercy leaves England to escape her marriage, and travels to Australia by ship, working as a governess. Upon her arrival in Sydney, she meets Barb, and they become life-long friends. Mercy then takes an inland journey to her sister’s property in outback New South Wales, where she regains her sense of belonging.
Captain Coulson has travelled the world on ships since the age of sixteen and worked his way up the ranks during difficult times.

This story covers the lives of three families during the First World War and culminates in the amazing world of coincidences as paths cross yet again and a family meets for the first time.

Ebook ISBN 978-0-6458617-4-7
Print ISBN 978-0-6458615-4-9

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sharon Elliott
• Release date: Jan 7, 2024
• ISBN: 9780645861747

Sharon Elliott

About Author After the death of two loved ones in 2017, I began my writing journey with my mother's story which I called Rose – The Last Straw under the pen name Jaime Wren and published through a hybrid publisher called Tellwell Publishing. Following a steep learning curve, I now have a collection of eBooks and print novels under my name: Sharon Elliott, which I have written, designed the covers for, and self-published. I grew up in Sydney, Australia and country NSW then worked in Sydney before moving to the Riverina, then Nambucca Heads on the mid north coast of NSW. I now live in sunny Queensland with my fur family and continue to write. You can follow me on my Facebook Page: Sharon Elliott Author, Instagram; Shazzell4, Pininterest:  Shazza's Books. my Payhip store: SHARONELLIOTTEBOOKSTORE Amazon.com.au Lulu.com bookstore, apple books, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, scribd Draft2Digital: Smashwords, Vivlio, Tolino, Gardener, Everand, Borrowbox Australian National Library and State Libraries

Book preview

MERCY

Escape, 1893

Mercy checked her watch again. Come on. She tapped her foot desperate for the train’s arrival as she scanned the surrounding crowd, hoping he had not already tracked her down. Mercy held her one-way ticket to freedom firmly in her hand, despite the shaking.

She had little time to plan her departure.

I will be back in two hours when I expect my dinner ready, Andrew told his wife.

I have to go out and run some errands myself, but I won't be long, Mercy lied.

She strained to hear the door close before racing to the bedroom. She dressed in her winter street clothes, not a quick task with a corset which she fumbled with in her haste. Then came the petticoats, a long skirt, blouse and jacket, topped off with a coat, gloves, scarf, hat, stockings and shoes, in preparation for the English weather outside.

Mercy threw some clothes, toiletries, her meagre and precious possessions into a bag and dragged it off the bed, lumbered down the stairs and left the terrace house behind. Hopefully, for good.

On that miserable day, she made her way to the station. It was in the opposite direction to Andrew’s destination. She hoped the neighbours were not peering out their windows ready to gossip. Mercy needed to be as far away as possible before he came home. Once he realised that she would not return, he would chase her down and bring her back to the life of misery she endured with his drunkenness and disregard for her. The quicker she was on a train, the better.

*

The train finally arrived at Edge Hill Station in Liverpool, England, and she exhaled the breath she was holding.

The stream of passengers alighting at the station seemed never-ending. Mercy turned and scanned the faces nearby one last time and returned her attention to the train, satisfied Andrew was not nearby ready to drag her home. One gentleman, about her age, saw the frustration on her face at her delay in boarding and encouraged her to board before he exited.

After you, Madam. He doffed his hat and bowed with a sweep of his arm. She did not recognise his accent; it sounded familiar, from Liverpool, yet different. Although Mercy was desperate to get out of sight, she appreciated the man’s courtesy. Thank you, Sir.

Seated, Mercy breathed another sigh of relief and settled her nerves. Then she once again checked she had all of her necessary documentation. As she closed her purse something on the floor caught her eye. She reached down and picked it up, turning it this way and that. A book of some sort. The train started moving; the book forgotten as relief coursed through her veins. I have made it this far, now to get to my accommodation.

Mercy gazed out the window at familiar places, possibly for the last time, and remembered the happier times growing up with her parents and sister, Amelia. She was looking forward to seeing Amelia again after so long apart.

*

Mercy was born in 1869, the second child of Peter and Susanna. Amelia, her sister, was ten years older than Mercy. Their parents dated several years prior to getting married. They married when Susanna was thirty-two and Amelia arrived three years later. Thirty-five was quite old to have a first baby. Mercy was a surprise and a blessing when Susanna was forty-five.

Mercy had a happy childhood with her family and friends from school; however, her mother suffered regular bouts of bronchitis which worried her daughters.

From an early age Mercy knew that her parents adored each other. She hoped when she married, she would be as happy.

Her parents sat them down one day. Girls, do not focus on getting married early and having babies. There is plenty of time for that. You are both pretty and will find husbands when the time is right.

But Mumma everyone gets married early and have children.

We didn't and look how happy we are and we have you two beautiful daughters.

Mercy was close to her older sister. Amelia was always there for her as she grew up and Mercy thought she had the perfect family, with loving parents and a big sister. She did not miss having a sibling her own age; that’s what friends were for.

Amelia was fun. When Mercy watched her older sister get ready to go out, Amelia did Mercy’s hair and added touches of makeup to her youthful face. Amelia taught Mercy dances she learnt and helped pave the way into adulthood for her little sister. If Mercy did not want to talk to her parents about something, she spoke to Amelia. Even though Mercy could talk to her mother about anything, sometimes her questions were better suited to her big sister.

Life changed for Mercy. She was about to finish school and had to decide on her future path and Amelia married and travelled with her husband to live in Australia. Mercy missed her dearly and the house became so quiet.

Mercy always wanted to help people get well. Watching her mother battle bronchial issues, she felt useless. She wanted to help her mother, which made her set her sights on becoming a nurse.

In 1888, just after she completed three years of rigorous training to become a qualified nurse, her father had a massive heart attack and died. It was totally unexpected. Mercy had not been home at the time. With the severity of his heart attack there was little chance of survival, even if she was there to help.

Her father’s death left mother and daughters devastated, and it wasn’t possible for Amelia to make the long journey home. Mother and daughter sat through the funeral service clinging to each other and huddled together as the coffin was lowered into the ground. Some of her father’s colleagues attended, as well as extended family. They all returned to Mercy's childhood home for the wake and accepted the condolences offered by people they did and didn't know.

After her father’s passing, her mother arranged for a small legacy for each of the girls. Mercy, I want you and your sister to have money aside for yourself, for emergencies, and promise me when you marry, do not tell your husband about the money.

Mother, shouldn’t a husband and wife trust each other?

Yes Darling, but life changes and you may need money of your own. Promise me?

I promise, Mother. Mercy thought it was a strange request but trusted her mother.

Sitting on the train, Mercy understood her mother’s concerns. This was unusual for the times, as everything a woman owned belonged to her husband when they married. Her mother had seen the hardships of her own mother, with no means of escape. She did not want her daughters to be in the same situation. Susanna was a wise woman and Mercy intended to keep her promise to her mother.

Without her father, her mother did not function well. They complemented each other, and she was lost without him. Susanna made it through that winter and they had a quiet Christmas, just mother and daughter, and they visited her father’s grave on a mild winter’s day.

Her mother’s bronchitis was severe that winter. With her decreased resistance, Mercy did not know if her mother would see another winter through, so she made the most of the time she still had with her.

*

Mercy came out of her reflections and looked down to see the book in her hands.

The beautiful leather cover was well worn, Mercy noted as she opened it to see if the owner left their details inside. She hoped to mail it back to them. The only reference she found was a first name, Gerard.

Mercy also noticed it was not a printed book, but a journal of some sort. As she flipped through the pages, she saw the beautiful handwriting. This encouraged her to read the text, so she turned back to the beginning.

The Journal, 1893

I am writing this journal, hoping I can find some clarity and healing in my life. My journey so far has not been easy.

I do not know who my father is. My mother may not know who he is either. She never spoke of him, and I asked often. What I remember of my younger years is being in another room while my mother conducted her ‘business’, as she described it to me. My mother was a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She came from a poor family and had little education.

From my room, I could hear different men’s voices and that of my mother. Sometimes in fun and other times the men were angry, and my mother cried. I did not like these times when mother cried and I wanted to protect her, but she told me never to come out of my room when anyone was there. When particular men came to visit my mother, I hid under my bed. If my mother had fallen asleep from an alcoholic stupor, they looked around the house. I only had my wardrobe and bed to hide in or under.

That was what life was like at home. I hated my mother for the life we led, and I hated myself for my vulnerability and inability to protect us.

When I eventually emerged, my mother would be asleep or rolling drunk, and it was impossible to speak to her. She said the alcohol settled her nerves and made her feel better. Personally, I did not like the effect the drinking had on her. My mother slurred her words and then got cross with me and angry with herself and her life. I just returned to my room.

The mornings were not so bad, even though my mother said she had a headache. She prepared breakfast for us both while I dressed for school, then we sat down together to eat. My mother barely touched her food.

Mother, why don’t you get a different job and stop drinking? I asked.

Our life is not a bed of roses, young man. At least we have a roof over our head. I put food on the table, and you have clothes, so quit complaining.

Yes, Mother.

When we finished eating breakfast, I left for school. I did not know what she did while I was away, but it certainly was not household chores. When I returned home, she was drunk again. This was the daily cycle of my early years.

If I wanted anything, I just learnt how to do it myself, like washing or cooking our dinner with whatever meagre supplies were available.

She wasn’t a good mother. Mothers were loving, kind and protective, who cooked and cleaned and worked decent jobs.

*****

Mercy was so involved in reading she only just realised the train was approaching Exchange Station, where she wanted to alight.

She felt for the boy in the journal, but Mercy also had to ensure her own escape. Placing the journal in her carry bag, she left the train and station to proceed to her overnight accommodation.

When Mercy made the decision to leave, she read the newspapers and watched the shipping arrival and departure times to get an idea of the best time to make her escape. She could not remain in England where Andrew could find her.

Mercy read an advertisement requiring someone to accompany a couple and their children to Sydney, Australia and she applied for the position. Her nursing experience was the main reason she got the job. They took note of the name she gave them so they could purchase passage. Mercy was to meet with them again to find out when they would travel, and her passage was payment for her duties. All she needed to do was to be at the dock.

At the time, she also made enquiries for lodgings near the departure port. Mercy used her sister’s name in case Andrew searched for her. Lucky for her, Andrew had never met her much older sister living in Australia. Mercy clung fiercely to her ticket and the money her mother encouraged her to put aside.

Everything was falling into place for her. One more night, then once on board and the ship sailed, she was free. The dangerous time for her was that evening and in the morning when Andrew would search for her.

Mercy relaxed when she arrived at her overnight accommodation and settled into the room. She was both nervous and excited being so very close to her freedom.

She took off her outdoor clothes and sat by the window, thinking about the mess she had gotten herself into.

Love

Men often looked Mercy’s way. They considered her a handsome woman. She was tall with a solid build and a well-proportioned figure. Her eyes were a striking blue colour and her blonde hair cascaded down her back when let loose from its confines.

The other nurses at her place of work were talking about a new deliveryman.

Mercy, have you seen him? Mary asked.

Who?

The handsome deliveryman that came in today?

No, I haven't.

Then, during one of her shifts a week later, she heard a male voice over her shoulder. Hello, there. My name is Andrew, and you are?

Mercy turned and looked into mesmerising blue eyes and a handsome face. My name is Mercy. Are you the new deliveryman? She surveyed his uniform.

Yes, I am.

Nice to meet you, She returned to her work, but she sensed he was watching her before he walked away.

Mercy, isn't he handsome?

Yes, he is. She replied to a colleague.

Another day when she was on shift, Mary raced up to her, excited, Mercy, that new deliveryman has been asking about you.

Thank you for letting me know, Mary.

I think he likes you.

Over the following couple of months, when Andrew saw her, he always approached and talked to her.

Andrew asked her out in early August 1889. She found him handsome and charming on the occasions they crossed paths. Yes, I would like that, Andrew.

May I pick you up?

I can meet you somewhere.

What about the teahouse near the grocery store on Saturday at noon?

Yes, I will meet you there.

Andrew's grin widened, and he walked away, whistling.

When she arrived, he was already standing outside. I hope you haven't been waiting long.

Not at all. He held the door open for her, took her coat and held her chair out for her to sit.

She had only seen Andrew in his work clothes. When they met for lunch, he looked very stylish and even more handsome, with his amazing blue eyes and broad smile.

Would you like wine with the meal, Mercy?

Not for me. I am not yet twenty-one, but you have some. I will just have water, thank you.

Now tell me all about yourself. Andrew sat forward in his chair, giving her his full attention.

I live with my mother. My father died not that long ago. Mother has taken it very hard, and her health is declining. They loved each other so much. Her eyes shone with emotion.

What about you, Andrew?

I grew up in Edge Hill. My parents died a few years ago.

"My life is boring. Tell me more about yourself, lovely Mercy. How long