Now Liam had made his move, Esmé became aware of him as a man, and he was attractive. She still knew very little about his background, because he rarely spoke about himself.
‘You have an Irish name, are you Irish?’ she asked him one day as they were taking time out from rehearsing.
Blue eyes lit on her, and they were guarded. ‘That’s the first time you’ve asked me anything about my background. Does that mean you’re interested?’
She shrugged. ‘Only to the extent of the question.’
‘You certainly don’t give a man much room in which to move. Am I Irish, you ask? No, I’m not. Do I sound Irish?’
‘No.’ She waited for him to say more but it wasn’t forthcoming. ‘Is that all you’re going to say?’
‘I answered your question to the extent it required.’ He laughed when she stuck her tongue out at him. ‘My name is William and I shortened it to Liam. I thought it sounded better than Will, and would make a less common professional name than Bill.’
‘I knew someone called Billy once. You look a bit like him.’
The expression in his eyes sharpened. ‘Where was that?’
She shrugged, not quite looking at him, because Livia had said it was better to keep quiet about their time in the orphanage. People would immediately think you were less than they were, if they found out. They came from a perfectly good background – probably better than most. Their father had been a parliamentary secretary and their mother a dress designer, until they’d died in a boating accident.
She fobbed him off with a vague, ‘It was at school, I think. I can’t really remember him.’ Her curiosity was pricked. ‘Tell me more about yourself. What made you take up dancing?’
‘It’s the only thing I did well. My ambition is to go to America and I’ve been saving most of my wages. When we return to England I intend to apply for a position with the Cunard line. We dance well together, Esmé, and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t go to America together, as a partnership.’
She’d never had any ambition beyond finishing her nursing training before, and she gave a slightly doubtful laugh. Dancing for a living wasn’t as glamorous as she’d thought it would be. ‘America . . . truly?’
He nodded. ‘I’m acquainted with someone who might be able to help. He directed a stage show Eric and I were in before it folded. He might be able to get us on the Aquitania, even if it’s only in the chorus line.’ His voice was as enthused as his smile. ‘She sails the North Atlantic route. You said you could tap dance a little, and so can I. We could work tap into our routines. With legs like yours, and with your looks . . .’ He shrugged. ‘We could become a husband and wife act. Liam and Esmé Carr-Denison.’
‘Carr-Denison?’
He looked sheepish. ‘The Americans seem to like double-barrelled names, and they like the English, especially blue bloods. You could reinvent yourself with a title.’
She laughed at that. ‘I’m definitely not royal, and besides, I’m not a very good liar, and I’d rather be myself.’
‘You could still be yourself. You have good manners and one of those soft, ladylike voices that encourages respect. Most of the crew refer to you as Lady Esmé behind your back. You could use it as a stage name.’
‘Do they . . . how very odd. Why don’t you reinvent yourself?’
He didn’t answer her question. ‘Lady Esmé and Liam Denison is a catchy title for dancing partners. I’ve been so in awe of you that I could barely drum up the courage to approach you. I know I’m not nearly good enough, but —’
Sensing something vulnerable in him then, she placed her finger over his mouth. Liam Denison was not the confident creature he made himself out to be, and she smiled. ‘You didn’t make a bad job of it, considering the short time we’ve known each other, and just Liam and Esmé Denison will do fine.’
A gleam of a smile chased the anxiety from his eyes. ‘You mean . . . you’ll marry me.’
‘We could be engaged, but I don’t want to rush into marriage, so not until we get back to England. I want my family to attend my wedding, and I’d like to meet yours.’
His chin came up slightly. He had a small cleft in it, and was a handsome man. The female passengers flirted with him, as well as the women staff members. He kept his distance, spending most of his spare time with Eric, who shared a cabin with him, and who acted as their choreographer.
‘I haven’t got any family left. I had a younger brother once, Tommy, his name was. He died when we were children, in the Spanish flu epidemic.’
An image of the orphanage was a fleeting, unpleasant and unwanted thought. Her body had been burning and her head had spun every time she moved. She’d been listless and whimpering and suffered from bad dreams in the infirmary bed, where she’d been soaked in her own sweat.
Chad had been there. He’d been sick too, but he’d made her drink, forcing droplets of water into her mouth and telling her, ‘The flu took Tommy. I’m getting better and so will you, because you’re my twin, and if you die, I’ll die too.’
Absolute nonsense, of course, but they’d believed it then. Something surfaced in her mind, a flash of memory that seemed important, but eluded her before she could catch it.
‘I’m so sorry about your brother. I survived the illness when I was a child. What about your parents?’
He shrugged and his eyes flickered away from her. ‘Gone . . . both of them.’
She assumed their death had been caused by the influenza outbreak as well. ‘I lost my parents when I was small, too, and can’t remember them. My sister and her husband gave my brother and me a home, and she made sure we had a good education. My brother is training to be a doctor now.’
‘You were lucky to have someone to look after you.’
‘Yes, I suppose we were.’ A strong wave of homesickness swept over her and she could almost smell the fragrant perfume of fields alive with poppies and cornflowers drifting in the wind. But, no, it would be winter in England now. The hedges and trees would be bare, and there might be snow on the ground.
And in a few short weeks, spring would bring Livia’s new baby into the world. She was longing to see it. She knew her sister well enough to be certain Livia wouldn’t hold a grudge for the argument they’d had. The ship might be due back at its dock in time for the birth. She hoped so.
Meanwhile, ahead of her and just two days away was Melbourne. The sea sparkled in the sunlight and the air smelled of salt. Half the people in England would be wishing they were in her shoes, sailing on a passenger liner somewhere on the ocean, and soaking up the sun, whilst she was doing the opposite with little twinges of homesickness.
Following Melbourne they’d sail across the Bass Strait to Tasmania, and then on to Wellington in New Zealand. There they’d pick up passengers and mail before heading back to England.
Where she’d become Mrs Denison if the marriage went ahead! A thousand butterflies came alive in her stomach . . . or were they wasps? She couldn’t make up her mind whether it was excitement or a kind of dread!
Liam’s smile was a mile wide, as if he had no qualms. ‘I’ll buy you an engagement ring when we get to Australia . . . make us official. Can we keep it a secret between us, else people will talk.’
Her smile felt forced. ‘Does that bother you?’
He nodded. ‘Normally, it wouldn’t, but it would be better if nobody knew about it. The shipping company doesn’t like on-board affairs.’
She nearly pointed out that it wasn’t an affair, but an engagement, which was a promise to marry. Surely that was entirely honourable.
Later, she shared the secret with Minnie. Her friend shrugged and looked askance at her. ‘Well, you’re a fast worker, I must say. How long has this been going on?’
‘Oh, stop it, Minnie. Nothing’s going on.’
‘You knew I liked him; but all this time you’ve worked on him behind my back. What about the fiancée he’d left back home?’
She didn’t want to tell Minnie that Liam had invented a girlfriend to protect himself from predatory females like her. ‘I haven’t worked behind anybody’s back. Besides, you said you liked Wally. You can’t have all the men on board . . . though from what I hear it’s certainly not through lack of trying.’
Minnie’s eyes began to glitter and her fingers became claws that scratched at the empty air. ‘Well, meow. You can be a right bitch at times. What have you been saying behind my back?’
‘So can you. I haven’t said anything, it’s what others are saying.’ Her voice softened. ‘We’ve been friends a long time, Minnie; don’t let’s spoil that now. I know you don’t mean anything by your flirting, whatever impression other people get. You’ve forgotten that being on a ship is like living in a small village. Everyone gossips about everyone else.’
‘Oh la-di-da! How very kind of you to advise me of that fact, dear. Just because they call you Lady Esmé it doesn’t mean you’re the bee’s knees. You don’t know anything about me. As for Liam Denison, you can keep him. See if I care. He’s a bit of old rubbish that floated to the top because he happens to be able to dance. Wally said Liam’s deep, and he doesn’t trust anyone . . . so he’s probably got something in his past to hide.’
Which might hold a grain of truth. It was hard to get Liam to talk about his past or his background, and he’d lied to her in the beginning about having a girlfriend. But he’d put her straight about that, and she believed him.
Despite her strained relationship with Minnie, Esmé wasn’t entirely comfortable with her decision to become engaged, since it was a commitment. She couldn’t help wondering if anything else would go wrong after they’d docked at Melbourne.
It was a brilliant day, the sky a cloudless infinity of blue, and the air bursting with sunshine and warmth. The dockside bustled with people. Carts and cars came and went, piled high with luggage. Passengers were herded into queues. Babies screamed, children ran around getting used to their land legs, and mothers scolded.
Esmé thought she saw Minnie amongst the jostle of people, but it couldn’t have been because the crew wasn’t allowed ashore until the passengers had disembarked. She lost sight of the woman when a man got in the way.
After she’d finished her tasks, she went to the cabin to look for her friend, since they’d arranged to go ashore together. Minnie’s things had disappeared from the cabin. Esmé wondered if she’d moved cabins. Her friend had been tense since their argument.
The ship was a hive of activity as cabins were cleaned and the ship provisioned. Perhaps Minnie had slipped ashore with some of the staff, she thought. She must stop worrying about her friend. She would probably turn up at the last minute.
Then she learned that Wally had left the ship in Melbourne, and Minnie had gone with him.
There was a note left for her with Eric Blair.
She was in the salon with the small dance floor, going over the programme for the journey home when Eric handed it to her. He was apologetic. ‘Sorry, Esmé, Minnie asked me to wait until we sailed.’
‘Did you know about this?’ she asked Liam.
The two men exchanged a glance, then he shook his head. She wondered if he was lying.
Her hands were shaking when she tore the envelope open.
Dear Esmé,
By the time you get this Wally and I will be married. I didn’t tell you because I know you don’t approve of him. I borrowed one of your dresses to get married in, and a couple of other items . . . and I didn’t have the courage to tell you I was leaving the ship, because you would have tried to stop me.
Esmé, I did something stupid . . . you’ll know what that is, I imagine. To be honest, Wally wouldn’t have been my choice for a husband, but at least he was willing to shoulder his responsibility. Don’t think too badly of me, Es; you’re the only friend I’ve ever had and I love you dearly.
I didn’t mean what I said about Liam. I hope you’re happy together, and I hope he proves to be worthy of you.
When the ship next docks in Melbourne look me up.
Minnie
There was an address scribbled in pencil on the bottom of the note.
Tears in her eyes, she handed the letter to Liam, who grimaced when he read it. ‘At least she’ll have a ring on her finger. That’s better than nothing for a girl in her position, I suppose.’
She rushed to her friend’s defence. ‘You seem to forget it was a man who put her in that position.’
‘But it’s up to the woman to say no, and . . . he didn’t have to marry her.’ Liam handed her a handkerchief, then when she’d dried her tears, he said, ‘I’m sorry, love. Here . . . perhaps this will make up for it.’ He slid a ring on her finger. It was a small square diamond with a garnet either side.
Anxiety filled his eyes when she gazed speechlessly at him. ‘You haven’t changed your mind, have you?’
‘No . . . it’s a sweet ring. Thank you, Liam.’
‘I’d rather you told me you loved me.’
She avoided his eyes, unable to utter the lie he wanted to hear from her. ‘I’m a bit worried about Minnie.’
Tipping up her chin, he kissed her, and then smiled. It all seemed so passionless, as if her senses hadn’t been engaged beyond the surface. ‘Don’t fret about Minnie, she’s a survivor, and old enough to look after herself.’
It wasn’t until they’d sailed from Wellington that Esmé discovered that the money she’d hidden in her stocking had gone. She’d never have thought Minnie would steal from her.
She cried – not for the stolen money, because she would have given it to Minnie if she’d needed it – but because Minnie had not felt able to trust her. Despite their bickering of late, she already missed her friend’s company.
An hour after Minnie married Wally Prichard she met his parents. The hotel they owned turned out to be a grimy public house in an overcrowded area. The ceiling was mustard-coloured squares, like old nibbled biscuits, and the place smelled of stale cigarettes and beer. Flypaper swung in the breeze, black corpses trapped on its sticky surface.
She rounded on him. ‘I thought you said it was a hotel.’
‘This is a hotel. What did you expect, The Ritz?’
A man came out from behind the counter wearing a stained shirt with a waistcoat over the top. Wally resembled him. He wiped a smelly grey cloth over the bar. ‘Oh, it’s you, is it, Wally? Who’s the sheila with you?’
Wally grinned. ‘Hello, Dad, long time no see. This is Min.’
Minnie lowered her case, prepared to do battle. ‘My name is Minnie James, and I’m Wally’s wife.’
‘You’re Minnie Prichard now,’ Wally reminded her, giving a bit of a smirk.
She threw him a look, knowing she’d made the biggest mistake of her life by getting involved with him. ‘I’d be obliged if you’d ask your parents not to call me names.’
‘Ask them yourself, they’re not deaf. Look, Minnie, they didn’t mean anything by it, you’ll have to get used to Aussie ways.’
A heavy-looking woman joined her mate. ‘Here, who’s she to be issuing orders round here?’
‘I’m not issuing orders; I’m trying to introduce myself. I’m Wally’s wife.’
‘Wally’s wife, is it?’ She put her fists on her hips and looked her up and down, her eyes lingering on her stomach. Minnie blushed. The women smiled and took a stab in the dark. ‘Got one in the oven, have you? I told you to keep your snake inside your trousers, didn’t I, Wally boy? Now look where it’s got you; hitched up to some flighty British bit. Serves you right.’
‘Give it a rest, Ma,’ her husband said and held out a hand to her. ‘I didn’t mean nothing by that, Minnie, love. It’s just the way we say things round here. My name’s Harry, and Wally’s ma there is called Marlene . . . Ma for short.’ His palm was as moist and as cold as a slug, and he gave a bit of a chuckle. ‘While we’re talking about snakes, I had a parrot called Minnie when I was a lad. It used to swear like a trooper. Then along came this hungry python. The bugger climbed the tree Minnie’s cage was hanging from, and it slithered through the bars in the cage. It swallowed the bird whole. The snake’s stomach was so big it got stuck trying to get out of the cage. My pa took up an axe and chopped its head clean off. Damned me if my Minnie didn’t come walking out swearing her head off.’
It had the sound of an often-repeated story, and Minnie dutifully cued in on the punchline and produced the expected laugh.
What had she got herself into? Unobtrusively wiping the sweaty residue from Harry’s palm against her skirt, she shuddered as Ma gave a squawk of laughter more raucous than any parrot could produce.
Wally opened the flap in the bar and they passed through. ‘We’ll use my room, all right, Ma?’
‘It’s all right as long as you can help out with the expenses. This place is only just paying its way, and I can’t afford to keep the pair of you, not the way things are. You can help out in the bar, and teach Minnie how to draw a pint. A pretty face behind the bar will bring the customers in. Oh yes . . . and we don’t have a slate, any more, otherwise the customers will swill like hogs and won’t be able to settle up at the end of the week.’
‘Minnie’s going to try and get a job as a nurse. She has the name of an agency. As soon as we’ve got a few quid behind us we’ll be going up country to Saltshaker Lake. I thought we could live off the land for a while if I can’t get another job.’
‘Good luck to you then. The last time I saw the place it wouldn’t support a row of rats, let alone a mob of sheep.’
If anything, upstairs, the hotel was worse. A narrow corridor with hanging cobwebs had living quarters at one end, consisting of a living room and two bedrooms.
‘The pump is in the yard outside the kitchen door. If you want hot water you’ll have to boil a kettle.’
‘What’s in those two rooms at the end of the corridor?’
‘Guest bedrooms. We get the odd salesman or two stopping by.’
Dust flew when Minnie opened the windows, and yellowing curtains billowed under the flow of unaccustomed air. She sneezed.
‘I wouldn’t do that too often.’ Wally laughed, and then looked around him as though he was seeing it for the first time. ‘I’d forgotten what a bloody awful dump this place is. Mum and Dad only come up here to sleep. Our bedroom’s this way.’
It looked out over a back lane with a little shed at the end. ‘What’s in there?’
‘It’s the dunny.’
‘The what?’
‘The dunny . . . the lavatory, old girl.’ His words were a mockery of British upper crust. ‘The cart comes along every night to empty the pan.’
Gorge rose up in her at the thought. ‘It’s a bit primitive isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, well, I suppose it is. You’ll just have to put up with it, won’t you . . . the same as we all do. It will be better when we go to Saltshaker Lake. You can use the nearest bush as a throne, and there’s nobody to see.’
The bed was unmade, but at least there was room for two in it. ‘Where’s the clean linen kept?’
‘It’s in the cupboard at the end of the hall. Leave it for now,’ he said pulling her down on to the mattress with him. ‘Let’s celebrate our marriage, Mrs Prichard. You haven’t let me touch you since that night.’ He placed his hand over her stomach.
She shook him off. ‘You only got to touch me then because you got me too drunk to realize what I was doing. Isn’t the coming baby celebration enough?’
His eyes were hard as they met hers. ‘That was a mistake, and I did my part by putting a ring on your finger. After all, I have no proof the brat’s mine, except your word. It could be any joker’s kid and I want more than a mistake for my trouble.’ He slid a hand under her skirt and jerked her knickers down to her knees. ‘Let’s get rid of these passion killers for a start. There’s not much use having a blue-eyed blonde in my bed if I can’t make use of her.’
Wally was too strong for her, and soon overcame her initial resistance. A few minutes later the bedhead banged against the wall and the springs creaked in unison. Wally began to pant. Eventually he collapsed on top of her with a little shudder. Lighting a cigarette he lay back in a cloud of stinking smoke and watched her retrieve her knickers and step into them, his eyes half closed. ‘You’ve got a nice arse, Min.’
She fetched some well-patched sheets, which were clean, and stared down at him. ‘Are you going to move so I can make the bed?’
After a moment of childish resistance at being told what to do, he rose and adjusted his clothing. ‘I’ll be going off to see my mates, then,’ he said, avoiding her eyes, and he checked his wallet.
The folded wad of notes looked familiar, as did the string tied round it. ‘Where did you get all the money from, Wally?’
‘What’s it to you?’
‘That’s Esmé’s money, and she’s my friend.’
‘So what? I just borrowed it, that night we got drunk. You owed me the money that you’d lost, and you told me you’d borrow it from your friend, and she kept it in her case under the bunk. I saved you the bother of getting it yourself, since you were too drunk to stand up. We can pay her back the next time we see her.’
‘You can go and pay her back now, before the ship leaves for Wellington. How could you, Wally?’
‘It’s already gone. Stop telling me what to do.’
‘I’ve only just started. And don’t smoke your fags in the bedroom, when you can use the living room. I have to sleep in here too, and a smoky atmosphere is bad for a growing baby.’
‘Don’t nag, Minnie; I’m not in the mood. Make yourself useful; you can tidy this place up a bit while I’m gone.’
She was angry that he’d stolen Esmé’s money, and furious at herself for drinking so much that night. What would Esmé think of her when she discovered the money was missing?
Wally didn’t return in time for dinner, but came back during the night, his breath smelling of whisky. She tried to fight him off but he pushed her nightgown up, spread her legs apart and rolled on top of her, naked. After a few minutes he grunted in satisfaction then rolled off and went to sleep. He was a pig, she thought.
A month later Minnie had washed the curtains and scrubbed the place clean, and was coming to terms with her in-laws. They were rough, but straightforward. She was beginning to like the thought of having a baby to love, even if it was Wally’s. One morning cramps woke her, only to discover that her body had begun to abort the tiny foetus. Tears pricked her eyelids. It was obviously not meant to be.
Wally blanched at the sight of the blood, though it was only a little heavier than a normal period. She would douche herself with vinegar in water when it was over.
‘Do you need a doctor?’
‘I can manage without.’ She hadn’t thought losing her infant would hurt so much.
‘Good; because they cost money.’
‘You always seem to find some for gambling. Don’t you care that I’ve lost our baby?’
There was something insincere about him when he said, ‘Of course I do, but it’s no good worrying about it now. We can always have another baby sometime.’
Minnie registered with the nursing agency and was offered a post at a small town called Pepperpot Creek. The agent showed her its location on the map, one hundred and twenty miles from Melbourne. She saw Saltshaker Lake a little further along. That must be where Wally’s farm was.
‘What happens at Pepperpot Creek?’
‘Gold mining, mostly . . . there’s a general store and a bar, and a few houses where families have joined their menfolk and thrown up a bush shack. There are a couple of smallholdings like your husband’s that run a few sheep and cattle, mostly in the Pepperpot Creek area.’
‘How did it get that name?’
He grinned. ‘The place was salted with fool’s gold back in the gold rush days. The owner made a fortune selling off the claims.’
‘And Saltshaker Lake?’
‘The miners diverted the stream in the early days and the salt levels rose. There’s also a mission, so having a nursing post there is convenient. Think it over and let me know, Mrs Prichard. There’s no rush, the current nurse doesn’t leave for a month or so.’
‘What if there was an emergency . . . something I couldn’t handle?’
‘You’d have back up. There’s a pedal wireless, so you’d be able to get advice from a doctor.’
A pedal wireless? She couldn’t even imagine what that was.
The day after that Wally had a sizeable win. ‘On the horses,’ he’d said.
Jubilant, he’d arrived home driving a battered Ford. ‘You’ll be able to take that job now, Minnie. The money will help see us over the first year while I’m setting the farm up, and I’ll teach you how to drive the car so you can get yourself to work and back.’
‘We’ll be off in a day or two,’ he told his parents.
‘Don’t forget you owe your pa and me for board.’
‘With all the work that Minnie put in on the place, you should be paying us.’ He took out his wallet, and, reluctantly extracting two pounds from the several notes it contained, laid them on the bar. ‘Will that do?’
Ma’s podgy hand beat Harry’s to the prize and she slid it into her pocket, laughing. ‘You’re getting a bit slow, darls, I’ll have to swap you for something faster.’
Harry gazed at his son, his expression dubious. ‘You’re a bit flash with your money, aren’t you son? You’ve been getting up to your old tricks and running a book, I reckon. You’d better be careful that John Teagan doesn’t come looking for you.’
‘I’ve heard that he’s inside.’
Horrified, Minnie stared at him. ‘You shouldn’t associate with criminals.’
Ma shook with laughter. ‘You haven’t told her, then.’
Staring from one to the other, Minnie asked him, ‘Told me what?’
‘Shut up, Ma. It’s none of her business.’
‘She’s your wife and she’s got a right to know what she’s let herself in for. Wally’s been inside a couple of times . . . mostly for illegal bookkeeping, but also for taking part in a robbery. Mind you, he was young then, and easily led. John Teagan and his thugs used him as a lookout.’
Minnie gasped. The next moment she remembered the money he’d taken from Esmé, and knew her own behaviour had been just as bad as Wally’s in the eyes of the law. She should have insisted on him giving it back to her friend. Had Esmé reported her loss, the police would be looking for her, and would probably have caught up with her by now. Minnie intended to repay Esmé when she could, but it was still theft.
‘I haven’t done any of that stuff for years.’ Wally gazed at the floor and dug the toe of his shoe into the beer-stained linoleum, a sign that said he was lying.
‘So where did all that money come from?’
Without looking up, he shrugged. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, Ma.’
Ma made no bones about who was in charge of the conversation. ‘It will be if the cops come knocking on my door.’
Wally’s face was red when he finally looked at his mother and said a trifle aggressively. ‘Oh, all right . . . so I ran a book. I only did it to give Minnie and me a good start. My luck was in, so I went on to a poker game and put all we had on it, and I won a heap.’
‘Where did you get your stake from?’ Minnie asked.
His eyes flickered towards her and her heart sank. She didn’t have to ask to know where from.
‘Somebody on the ship . . . it was only a loan. Never mind, I’ll pay it back the next time the ship’s in port. Besides, it will be the last time.’
Ma’s eyes mirrored her scepticism. ‘Make sure it is then. You’ve got a wife to support, and I don’t want any trouble brought to my doorstep.’
It would be her own wage supporting them until they got established, Minnie thought, but she’d put something aside in a safe place each week, so eventually she’d have enough money to pay Esmé back.
They left early the next morning, a crate of fluffy yellow chicks tweeting in the back seat, a gift from Harry and Ma for Christmas.
Ma gave her a hug. ‘Goodbye, Minnie love. You’re more than our Wally deserves, and if you ever need help, you know where we are. I’m sorry about the baby, truly I am.’
‘Best of luck,’ Harry called out as they moved off. ‘Watch out for the snake, especially the trouser snake.’
Minnie turned to grin at them, and waved.
The pair was still cackling with laughter when they turned the corner.
‘They liked you,’ Wally said, his hand going to her knee and squeezing it.
She moved her knee away. ‘I liked them too. What’s the house at Saltshaker Lake like?’
‘It’s nothing fancy as I recall, but I haven’t been there since I was a kid . . . Well, for some time, anyway. My uncle had lots of plans for the place. Let’s see. Inside, there were two bedrooms and a living room. The kitchen is tacked on the back. There’s a tub and a pump. Oh yes . . . and a veranda. It’s a bit on the primitive side.’
The understatement of the decade, Minnie thought later, when she set eyes on it. The place was crude, a hovel built of wood, and with a brick chimney at one end. Half the roof was missing.
‘It probably blew off in a storm. I can see it over there.’ Wally pointed.
‘Where?’
‘That piece of corrugated iron hanging from the tree.’
‘But it’s rusty and full of holes.’ Minnie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so she did both.
He patted her on the head as though she was his pet dog. ‘It’s all right, love, the holes will give us some fresh air. The roof timbers and ceilings are still intact. I’ll fix it up for you with some tar paper and nails, and we’ll soon be as snug as bugs in a rug. I wonder where Uncle Jim kept his tools.’ He gazed around him, scratching his head as though they’d suddenly appear.
Her uncertain emotional state changed her ire into a definite giggle, and then uncontrollable laughter ripped from her.
He gazed at her, raised one eyebrow and grinned. ‘She’ll be right, Blondie, you’ll see.’
There was something totally irresistible about that grin of his, and for a moment Minnie forgot he was a con man, and that she disliked him.