Salt Creek Read online

  ‘Well, you are beautiful,’ I said, which was nothing more than the truth. She did not belong at Salt Creek. She was a lady in this dress, and every part of our house was dull brown as a sparrow. The longer I looked the more that impression of civilization seemed an illusion. The greater thing that it did was to frame something in Addie, not only her looks, but also something barely containable: her rage.

  ‘That’s done then,’ she said.

  The dogs set up a barking on the tenth day and for a mad moment the world changed. It would be the troopers and Addie would be spared, and Tull too. It would end well. How quickly we rushed at hope. Addie was at the veranda in seconds and I was fast behind. A lone rider, that was all. A man in a tall hat on a terrible horse. Mr Stubbs. We watched him all the way down the path – Addie as if she had set eyes on her executioner.

  ‘Mr Stubbs,’ she said in a faint voice when he approached.

  He removed his hat and held it in front of him. ‘Miss Adelaide,’ he said, with an uncertain smile. ‘I am a little early. I could not wait.’ His cheeks flushed very bright; almost, he seemed shy. Then, noticing me, ‘Miss Finch.’

  ‘Won’t you come inside, Mr Stubbs. Papa is out at present, but I hope you would like some tea.’

  ‘Yes, please,’ he said. He came up the stairs and approached Addie and put his hands to her upper arms, and though she reared back in surprise, his head followed and he touched his mouth to her cheek. ‘A little signal of affection for my future bride,’ he said and laughed, ‘Huh, huh,’ like that, as if relieved that some test had passed.

  Addie looked at me.

  ‘Into the parlour,’ I said, and opened the door so that Mr Stubbs would enter.

  Addie followed, wiping his touch from her cheek as she went. Afternoon tea could hardly have been more awkward. Poor Mr Stubbs could not understand, Addie always before having been so lively. She sat opposite him, her gaze travelling from his smart boots up his thick legs and snug waistcoat to his florid cheeks and flat eyes. I thought of Tull’s dark elegance, as I am sure she did.

  ‘Won’t you take me for a walk, Mr Stubbs?’ she said after a time, which startled me. From the way she did not look at me for approval or sympathy or anything else I could see that her thinking had moved beyond mine. She was as alone as could be now. Nothing I did could make any difference. It was fantastical to imagine otherwise.

  ‘Why, certainly. Only your ankle— Can you walk?’

  ‘If I may take your arm, I believe we will manage,’ she said.

  I watched them walk away, very slow, Mr Stubbs bending his head to her. He supported her quite tenderly. I did not think him a cruel man, at least not to people he regarded as his equals, but he was inferior in every respect but wealth and social standing to Tull, and watching him I felt some of Addie’s anger. She deserved better.

  It was my melancholy task late the following morning to row out to fetch Reverend Taplin, who was to perform the wedding ceremony, from the mail boat. The great surprise was that Albert was standing on the deck at his side, as tall and strong as Stanton, though with Mama’s soft brown hair – the hair Mary would have had. He was burned by the sun and had the beginning of a soft moustache: he was sixteen now, and somewhat watchful. There was little of the boy in him, and a distance between us.

  ‘Hester,’ he said, holding out his hand to take mine when he had lowered himself down.

  ‘Albert.’ I pulled the oars in and leaned forward to embrace him.

  He patted my back awkwardly. ‘It took Addie getting married for Papa to summon me. I suppose I should not be surprised.’

  ‘It’s because of the money.’

  ‘Nothing’s changed then.’

  I turned my attention to Reverend Taplin once Albert had helped him down. The boat rocked; he quickly sat, flicking his coat back fussily so he didn’t sit on it. He was dressed in black and had a beard that I considered ridiculous, circling the bottom of his face only and leaving his upper lip quite bare. He had a flat face and an unsmiling countenance, whether from disposition or disapproval, I was not certain. Remembering Tull’s distress on his return from the mission, I found it difficult to be pleasant.

  We walked up the slope to the house. Fred spied us from the veranda and ran down the stairs to see Albert, and after some awkwardness they began to laugh and talk. Soon they wandered off – to explore old haunts I supposed. I did not see Albert meeting Papa, but later saw them speak politely enough. Papa took Reverend Taplin on a tour of the house and its immediate surrounds and I observed Mr Stubbs wandering the short path from house to stable and back in his bobbing gait, his hands folded behind him and bent forward a little from the waist.

  There was only Addie now and I found her easily enough. She was sitting in the bedroom with tears sliding down her cheeks. ‘Oh, Tull, Tull. I want him, Hettie.’ She mopped them with one of Mama’s handkerchiefs.

  ‘I know you do.’ I could only help her once more into the dress and do her hair and by the time we were finished her tears had stopped. ‘I’m so sorry for it all, Addie,’ I said.

  ‘Papa will regret what he’s done. He might have an agreement with Mr Stubbs, but I have too, and so Papa shall discover.’

  ‘What have you done?’

  ‘Talked to my future husband.’ She would tell me nothing more, and if she looked grim and stricken when she left the room to be married, she was still beautiful enough to light up Mr Stubbs’s dull countenance. She would not have noticed that. She was looking past him, through the parlour window to the slope – and seeing it still empty, the wind drifting over the silvered grasses of summer and the brilliant green shoots of approaching winter, her eyes dulled.

  Papa’s demeanour during the wedding ceremony ill became him. He rocked on the balls of his feet and smiled at the words ‘I do’ and ‘obey’, and paid no attention to Addie’s monotone. From his manner, I deduced that Mr Stubbs had waived some, perhaps all, of his debts in celebration. But observing how Mr Stubbs did not meet Papa’s eye or return the heartiness of his tone after the ceremony was concluded I began to suspect the agreement that Addie had reached. Mr Stubbs was not as jovial as I had seen him at other times. He could not fail to be aware of Addie’s sadness; he was not unfeeling I would say, but he was determined.

  We had afternoon tea of Mrs Martin’s layer cake. She had taught it to Addie while she was at the Travellers Rest. At sight of the rich cream I fled around the side of the house and was sick. I could no longer pretend or even hope that what had happened to Addie was not happening to me. My choices were so few and my feelings on the matter so desperate. But I had to shut them away for just a little longer, until Addie was gone.

  At the last, when Papa approached her in farewell, Addie turned to him, as a boat turns in water, cumbersome and reluctant seeming, against its own nature, and held him off with an outstretched hand. ‘Do you remember what the bible says, Papa?’ she said. ‘Amos, five: twenty-four I believe; you may check it to be sure. “But let justice roll down the waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” Think of that, as I will. It will roll for you one day and I will do nothing to stop it.’

  This discomfited him, as might be imagined, yet he rallied. ‘When you are more yourself I am sure you will understand, my dear.’

  Addie ignored that and drew me aside, holding me tight. She spoke soft into my ear. ‘Listen to me, Hettie. You must get word to Tull for me. Tell him I will get Grace, I will make her mine.’

  ‘But how?’ I said.

  She shook her head. ‘Doesn’t matter. I will. Stubbs wishes to make me happy, I believe. Imagine.’ She released me and took my hand. ‘Tell Tull, oh, everything: my feelings, what Papa did, that I am sorry. My whole life I will be sorry for it. Then you must leave.’

  ‘Come, my dear,’ Mr Stubbs called. Mr Stubbs and Addie rode away on their horses, with Addie’s meagre possessions strapped to a third. Her back was very straight. She did not look back.

  Albert, standing between Fred and me, s
aid, ‘She doesn’t seem very happy.’

  ‘She loves Tull,’ Fred said. ‘Tull loves her.’

  ‘Tull. Good God. So that’s why he left. Papa sent him away?’

  Fred nodded.

  ‘Don’t tell anyone,’ I said.

  ‘As if I would. A black in the family. They’d kill him up at the lakes. They’d kill him for less. I’d not shed a tear.’

  ‘Why ever not?’ I said.

  Albert shrugged. His face twisted. ‘I was the one sent away; he stayed.’

  ‘How could Papa send him away to work? He wasn’t family,’ I said.

  ‘Yes he was.’

  The mail boat’s horn sounded its return from the south and Papa and Reverend Taplin strolled to the shore. Fred and I followed with Albert.

  Before stepping into the boat, Albert said, ‘I might not see you for some time. I am to oversee Mr Baker’s new station in the Flinders Ranges. Leaving quite soon.’

  ‘Well,’ Papa said. ‘He thinks highly of you then.’

  Albert regarded him coolly. ‘I believe he does.’

  ‘It’s so far,’ I said.

  Poor Fred was stricken – from his old shame with Albert perhaps. He clasped Albert’s hands in his own and pressed them. ‘We missed you; we did.’

  Papa rowed them out and on his return we stood together watching the boat ride through the choppy waves. Papa said, musingly, ‘Perhaps Addie might send you some new clothes, Hester, if you ask her nicely, and we will see what sort of husband we might find you.’ He had an air of gaiety, as if he were offering an unexpected treat.

  ‘Do not think of marriage for me. You will not compel me.’

  He looked startled. ‘Yes, well, perhaps in time.’ He rocked on his heels and stared towards the departing boat. ‘She will come around, my Adelaide. Her sweetness will out,’ he said.

  I thought it would not, that it was gone, that the steel of her would out, but did not say so. She was like Papa. She did not forgive and she did not forget. These things were not in her nature.

  My dread was that Tull would return that very afternoon, that he might even see the boat making its way up the lagoon without knowing who it took away. We were spared that, at least. Papa and Fred left early the next day to begin rounding up the sheep. While they were gone I took the musket down and hid it in the stable. Later, as exhausted as he was from his hard day, Papa did not notice its absence from the wall. Fred hardly spoke. He washed when he came in and ate and worked on his drawing and writing until bedtime.

  It was the third day that he came – the third day after the wedding, that is. The dogs leapt from their place by the stove and threw themselves, whining, at the door. I crossed to them and put my hands on the door, and stopped there. There was nothing good on the other side, only more distress. The dogs fell away, waving their tails and panting and looking up at me. It would be Tull. That was his footfall bounding down the stairs, slowing as he looked around. I opened the door. He was so joyous in that moment crossing the walkway beneath the bare vines, the basketwork of their shadows falling on him and about him, and his face alight, smiling at the thought of Addie who must surely be behind me. Seeing my face, he changed in an instant, before I said a word. The dogs leapt at him and he patted them absently, and pushed past them, past me, into the kitchen.

  ‘Where is she?’ he said, looking around.

  ‘Tull, it could not be worse. I’m so sorry. Come inside now.’

  ‘Quickly, tell me where she is. What has happened?’ He turned grey almost. ‘Is she dead?’

  ‘No, not dead. Not that. She is married to Mr Stubbs and gone to the lakes.’

  He stilled. ‘She would not do that. I don’t believe it. It is another lie.’

  ‘It’s true. I say it’s true.’

  He roared at that, and smote the door, which flung back with a squeal of its hinges, and clutched his hair. ‘No.’ Tears streamed down his face. He let them. ‘Why did she? I said I would come. She could not wait? I’ll get her back. I will.’

  I took his arm and drew him into the room. ‘Listen. Let me tell you. Please, Tull. Addie asked me to, so you would understand. It was for you.’ I told him everything that Addie had asked, and more, and when I had finished speaking his tears had slowed. He seemed dazed. The dogs lifted their heads and went to the door. Papa and Fred would be home. Tull stood, his face become still. ‘Tull,’ I said, but he rounded me, making for the stairs, which I could not immediately understand, since when I went outside Papa and Fred were in plain sight coming down the track. Tull was up the stairs in three bounds and moving along the veranda and I began to comprehend his intention. He went into his room and in seconds came out again, carrying three of his spears, which he held horizontal, feeling the weight of one, bouncing it in his hand, reacquainting himself.

  ‘Tull, Tull,’ I said. ‘Don’t.’ But he was past me again. Then I screamed as loud as I could, ‘Fred.’

  In the distance, Fred’s head reared up. He turned to Papa and set his horse to a gallop down the slope towards us. Tull drew a spear back in a smooth arc. It was as if he circumscribed the space around him, cut it clean and made it his own: something profound and alien.

  ‘Not Fred,’ I said.

  Tull waited with the same fixed expression of rage and determination. Fred reached the gate and threw himself off the horse. ‘Don’t, Tull, he’s not worth it,’ he said. He faltered at sight of Tull’s ferocity.

  Papa began to come down on foot. ‘Get the musket,’ he bellowed. ‘Get it now.’

  ‘I will not,’ I said.

  Fred ran inside, and came out again. ‘Where is it?’

  ‘Hidden,’ I said. ‘You would use it?’

  ‘To stop Papa. To stop them both.’ He leapt down the stairs.

  ‘You cannot stop me. I don’t care,’ Tull said.

  ‘I will finish you,’ Papa shouted and kept on. Madness when Tull was poised ready to throw.

  ‘Why?’ Tull screamed. ‘She was promised to me. Her own promise.’ He pulled the spear a little further back at his shoulder.

  Fred shouted at him. ‘Stop. She did it for you. To save you. Because of you, because she loves you.’

  ‘I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him,’ Tull sobbed. ‘They can kill me. I don’t care. How could you let him? You should have cared for her better.’

  ‘We tried,’ I said. ‘We, all of us, Addie too, wanted you safe.’

  ‘This is how you do it? Sell your sister?’

  ‘Not for money; that was Papa. For your life,’ I said. ‘Papa is not worth it.’

  ‘Give it to me,’ Fred said. ‘Give me the spear. Don’t do this to Addie. Think of Grace. Grace, Tull.’ He was shouting in his ear at the last.

  Tull threw it to the ground.

  ‘Hah,’ Papa said, reaching us. ‘That’s the way. The musket.’

  ‘Hidden,’ I said. ‘I will not tell you where.’

  ‘Foolish girl. Hold him for me, Fred.’

  ‘I will not.’

  Tull lunged at Papa and grabbed him by the collar and squeezed it tight at his throat until the flesh of his chin wrinkled up and his cheeks turned a choked pink. His arms flailed. Fred took hold of Tull at the shoulder, from behind, and heaved. It was enough to break his grip. Papa pulled at his collar and coughed.

  They stood there, three points of a triangle, all panting.

  ‘Get off my land,’ Papa said.

  Tull thrust out a long arm and punched him in the chest with the heel of his palm and strode past his sprawling shape in the dirt across the slope.

  And that was the last I ever saw of him. He sank back into his life for all I knew, as soft as a whale into the depths, and disappeared and was never more seen by me before I left.

  Two letters arrived the following week: one from Mr Stubbs for Papa, which threw Papa into such a state that I thought it best to leave the house, and one for me from Addie, which I read on my old seat by the lagoon, where Charles had found me not so many months ago. I felt closes
t to him there.

  Remember how I once dreamed of pretty things, money to spend, a household to run and a kind gentleman for a husband? Though they are pleasant enough, I would give them up in a minute for Tull.

  You must leave, Hester. Papa will never change. There will only be this and he will bend you to his will or you will die resisting. This money is for the journey: a little pocket money that Stubbs gave me, but enough to get you to town. I have no better use for it than this. Only get out. I hope you will see Tull and can tell him what happened. Perhaps he has been to see you already.

  Remember what I said. It was for him that I did it. Tell him I will get Grace.

  When I judged that enough time had passed I went back to the house. Papa, against the veranda railing, was speaking again before I reached the top of the stairs.

  ‘He agreed to release me from the debt and now he says he will not. Unforeseen circumstances.’

  ‘Did he sign anything?’

  ‘Word of a gentleman.’ He paced up and down and wheeled around. ‘The rain falls on the just and the unjust alike, Hester, as you know. But it does fall and sometimes the just do get it. I try to remember that.’

  ‘It does not fall on us. You should not have treated Addie so.’ My voice was so hard that it surprised me. ‘It was wicked.’

  Papa stared. ‘I was looking after her.’ He fumbled along his fob chain. ‘I thought that good would come to me because I believed and acted with faith in all that I did. But what if there is no pattern or principle in the world? Have you thought of that, Hester?’

  ‘People prefer to ignore those things when it suits them,’ I said. I looked at his hand, a thin dried up brown thing. I did not see how it could wield anything, much less power. ‘You’re cold. Come inside where it’s warmer.’ He followed me in and watched as I made a pot of tea.

  ‘There is nothing now,’ he said. ‘I do not see the way out.’ He glanced at me from the corner of his eye as if I might approve this remark. I did not give him the look that he wanted: warmth about the eyes, understanding, complicity. I could do it no longer. And then he faced me straight and unguarded, the glimmer in his mind sudden and visible, and was like the child Fred presenting Mama with a special shell: See, Mama, see what I found. He touched the cuff of my faded muslin. ‘There is one more thing. Where is Frederick? Fetch him to me please.’