‘Go out?’ Ella could barely open her eyes let alone lift her head from the pillow. Just getting off and away from the ship had been utterly exhausting, not to mention finding the office of the connection that her father had given them. Edwin Sanders had turned out to be a lawyer, to her surprise nearer William’s age than that of her father.
‘I have arranged accommodation for you in a lodging house….’
‘A lodging house!’ Ella had interrupted. ‘Surely you mean a hotel. I am sure my father….’
‘Your father specifically directed me to arrange accommodation for you in a lodging house,’ Edwin in turn had cut her short. ‘I can promise you it is both clean and comfortable.’
Now, lying on the bed in their room which was only slightly less cramped than their cabin on the ship, Ella conceded it was clean although not exactly what she would describe as comfortable. With an effort, she forced her eyes open and stared at William. ‘I seriously doubt whether I have strength enough to get off this bed, let alone go out. What time do they serve dinner?’
‘They don’t. That is why we need to go out. I, for one, am extremely hungry.’
Ella sat up, shocked to discover that there was to be no meal laid on here and aware that she too was hungry, positively ravenous in fact. Breakfast, which she had skimped, seemed a lifetime ago and lunch had simply not existed as they had been struggling with all the hassles and formalities of getting themselves and their baggage off the ship. Faced with the alternatives of staying here and starving or getting up and accompanying William, Ella swung her feet off the bed and, with a muffled groan, stood up.
They walked in silence. The day was still warm and the air clung round them in a manner that Ella found both oppressive and enervating; however, it did nothing to lift her spirits and the crowded café William led her into, with a noisy fan moving air which seemed to her quite fetid, plummeted them even further. As she slumped down on a hard wooden chair, Ella decided she did not like Australia and resolved to return to England as soon as possible. William, to her surprise, seemed quite cheerful.
‘Well, Ella, we are here in Australia – the promised land, land of opportunity.’
‘Yes, we’re here,’ she responded in a dull voice, ‘and I wish we weren’t. I can’t see much “promised land” about it.’ She looked around the café. She had only seen such places from the outside before, but she supposed they did exist in England too.
By the time they had both downed a simple but more than welcome meal of fish and chips, Ella was feeling marginally more optimistic. ‘What about opportunities, William? Did that lawyer fellow have something good lined up for you?’
William’s face darkened. ‘I’m not really sure. The money your father promised me to set up in business is with him. I can’t say I am too happy about that. He will let me have it when I have a need for it – so he says.’
‘That’s all right, then. I am sure Father would not have put him in charge of our funds if he was not to be trusted.’
William glowered. He saw no reason why his father-in-law had not simply handed the funds over to him.
Overcome with a sudden lassitude, Ella yawned. William was all solicitude. ‘You are tired, my dear. I will escort you back to our lodging.’
‘Are you not coming to bed?’ Ella was surprised to see her husband carefully combing his hair and adjusting his necktie.
‘Not at this moment. I do not feel in the least tired. I think I shall go out and … explore the area.’
‘But William!’ Ella protested, wanting to tell him that she would appreciate his company in bed with her but unable to express her wish for lovemaking, feeling that well brought up young ladies, even married ones, did not admit even to liking this side of marriage, let alone actually wanting it.
‘I shall not be long, my dear.’ Perfunctorily he bent down and kissed her on the forehead. He was already finding marriage restricting, but consoled himself with the thought that it was the means, the only means it had seemed at the time, to financial independence and an unloading of his debts.
Ella pouted. ‘I shall try and stay awake for you.’
But of course she didn’t. Within half an hour of William closing the door behind him, she was dead to the world. Not even his blundering about the room on his return roused her.
When she opened her eyes the next morning, he was still sleeping noisily, flat on his back, stentorian snores emitting at regular intervals. She raised herself on one elbow and looked at him with a newly critical eye. The well-dressed debonaire suitor who had won her heart surely could not have melted into this somewhat uncouth person sharing her bed, his outer clothes flung on the floor and him sleeping in his underwear. She sat up swiftly and almost immediately flopped back on the pillow as the room began to swim and she was engulfed in a wave of nausea. Surely seasickness was not going to continue plaguing her now she was on dry land?
After a few moments she tried again, much more cautiously this time, and managed to reach the carafe of water on the stand on the other side of the room. She sipped it gratefully before sinking down into a chair, the only one in the room. She tipped water from the jug into the basin and splashed it over her face and, feeling somewhat revived, carefully and slowly began to dress herself. Breakfast, she remembered the landlady informing them, was served between seven and eight o’clock, and that was the only meal provided. It was already seven forty-five. She glanced at her husband, wondering which would annoy him most: being wakened or missing breakfast. Tentatively she shook his shoulder.
They reached the dreary dining room a few minutes before closure.
‘You are late,’ they were told sternly. ‘However, as it is your first morning, I will overlook it.’
Ella refused the porridge; the mere sight of it caused a swift return of her nausea, but she drank two cups of strong tea with appreciation. It revived her enough to tackle a thick slice of bread and jam.
William ate a good breakfast, including a lavish helping of the nauseating porridge. Both were preoccupied with their own thoughts.
‘You will be quite comfortable here.’ William broke the silence between them.
‘Yes, we will – for a short while until we find somewhere of our own to live.’
‘Not “we”. You, Ella. I am going to try my luck on the goldfields; it would not be suitable for you.’
‘William!’ Ella was aghast. ‘You cannot just go and leave me here, alone in this strange place.’
‘I have been talking to people and it seems there is money aplenty to be made at the diggings. But it is a rough life; I could not expect you to accompany me. I shall need to persuade that lawyer friend of your father to advance me the funds.’ He spoke quite calmly, as if it were all settled.
‘I am not staying here on my own. Either I come with you, or I shall talk to that Edwin Sanders myself and persuade him not to let you have the money you need.’ Ella was aghast at the prospect of being left alone in this awful place while William went off goodness knows where for goodness knew how long.
William glanced at his wife, almost with distaste. He could imagine what a drag Ella would be. Adventure and fortune beckoned, and he intended to grab them with both hands. With Ella tagging along, he was sure he would miss out on both. ‘We will go together and see him, my dear.’ He was convinced the lawyer fellow would persuade Ella to remain in Melbourne. After all, he was, in a way, answerable to her father for her well-being.
By the time they set out for the lawyer’s office, Ella was feeling much more like herself. She had regained her land legs, a night’s sleep and breakfast had restored her considerably and she had taken the trouble to dress herself in a becoming outfit.
William looked at her approvingly.
‘You look very nice, my dear.’
Ella smiled, accepting the compliment as her due, suppressing her irritation at the faintly proprietary tone in his voice.
*
The quick flash of appreciation that crossed Edwin Sanders’s features as he greeted them had no such undertones. Ella accepted his proffered hand and returned his smile. ‘Good day, Mr Sanders.’ Fleetingly, as their hands touched, she looked into his eyes, noting they were as blue as these antipodean skies. Her breath caught in a barely audible gasp, she freed her hand and turned away to the chair he was indicating to her. As she sat down, she was overcome by the sense of timelessness that usually accompanied her flashes of inner knowing, for in that brief moment when she had met his eyes, she knew with absolute certainty that she was going to see a lot more of Edwin Sanders. Uneasily she recalled feeling much the same the first time she met William. Well, she had been correct then, so why not now?
Determinedly, Ella focused her attention on the conversation. William was leaning slightly forward, almost touching the desk between them in his anxiety to persuade Edwin Sanders to release sufficient money for him to journey to the goldfields and stake a claim.
The young lawyer frowned slightly, rolling his pen between his fingers, his thoughts busy as he listened. William had not made a good impression on him; he detected truculence beneath the surface charm. Richard Wagstaff and his father, George Sanders, had been close friends in their youth; they had even managed to keep in touch after George opted to try his luck in the colonies. Richard had been newly married and his bride did not want to leave her family and everything she knew. George married in Australia and decided to settle there. Though parted, the two men had kept up with each other as much as possible over the years. Richard had written to George that his headstrong daughter would not listen to his advice and he did not entirely trust his son-in-law which was why the money had not been handed over to him directly.
Unfortunately, a heart attack had carried George off while William and Ella were still on the high seas and Edwin had taken over the responsibility of discharging his father’s promise to his old friend.
Edwin sighed, wishing with all his heart he had not had this responsibility thrust upon him as William expounded at length his need to get hold of at least some of the money held in trust. Edwin cast a covert glance at the lovely young woman opposite him; he hoped she would not have to pay too high a price for her defiance of her father.
‘I do not think you fully understand, Mr Weston. Your father-in-law lodged sufficient funds with me to start you up in – er – some enterprise. I think he had farming in mind; land is cheap here – very cheap compared to England – and anyone prepared to work can do well.’ He paused, trying to imagine William engaged in hard physical labour and wondered if he had the faintest idea what mining entailed. He imagined he would see looking for gold as just another form of gambling. Guessing that young Mrs Weston was unaware of her husband’s gambling and the debts that had been paid off by her father, he said no more.
‘That is what I told my husband,’ Ella interjected. ‘The money my father made available for us was to help us establish ourselves here in Australia.’
‘Indeed it was,’ Edwin Sanders agreed, smiling approval at her. ‘You are, I hope, comfortable in the lodgings I arranged for you, Mrs Weston.’
Ella shrugged. ‘Tolerably so. They are not, of course, quite what I am accustomed to and I am anxious to be settled in my own home as soon as is practically possible.’
‘Quite so … quite so …’ Edwin Sanders murmured, shooting a glance at William as he spoke. He observed the sullen look on his face with some satisfaction. ‘If farming does not appeal to you then there are plenty of opportunities in trade. This is a developing country still.’
‘Trade!’ William spat the word as if it was an expletive. ‘I think not. No, if I am to be denied the goldfields then farming it must be.’ After all, he thought he would be a landowner and thus a gentleman.
Edwin ignored this outburst. ‘Do you plan to stay in Melbourne? If you intend to farm then you would be better to move out of the city.’ His voice was dry as he made this statement. Contact with William was rapidly confirming his opinion that the man was a fool. The sooner he discharged his obligations to him the better. He felt sorry for his young wife. If the fellow had been on his own, he might have suggested he would be better off in some far-flung place, a different state perhaps, but after all, it was because of her father’s concern for her that he was in charge of the arrogant young fool’s finances. ‘The Bendigo area is fast developing and Bendigo itself is a pleasant and growing city; there has been a rail line from Melbourne for over forty years.’
William’s interest was aroused, remembering things he had heard on the ship from those returning to Australia after a trip home. ‘Wine …’ he reflected aloud. ‘Yes, maybe I will take up winemaking. That would be a gentlemanly occupation and I understand there is profit there.’
Edwin smiled thinly and told him with some satisfaction, ‘You are too late for that, I am afraid, by about ten years. You are correct in thinking that part of the country was renowned for its fine wines, but unfortunately the phylloxera virus hit the district around 1893 and decimated the industry. You would do better in sheep. That is, if you insist on trying your hand at farming. Why don’t you find work on a sheep station for a while and learn the ropes?’
William would have none of this. ‘I have not come out here to be another man’s servant,’ he said haughtily. ‘I will travel up to this Bendigo place and have a look around and see how the area appeals to me.’
Both men turned to look at Ella as she interposed firmly.
‘We will go, William.’
‘Surely, my dear, it would be better for you to stay here in Melbourne and leave me to attend to this.’
‘Certainly not. I too have to live there. And I think you have forgotten that the money you will be using comes from my father.’ Her tone was cool, but a bright spot of colour burned in each cheek. Edwin noticed that she sat up a little straighter and there was a glint in her eye that suggested she might, after all, be able to make something of what he personally considered an unfortunate marriage.
‘If you insist, my dear, but you may find the long journey tiring.’
‘Indeed you might have done, Mrs Weston, had you been one of the early arrivals, but, as I have just pointed out, not today. The train line has been open since 1862 and changed a journey of many days to a few hours. You might even enjoy it.’
Ella smiled and inclined her head. ‘I am sure I shall, Mr Sanders. It will be interesting to see some of the country.’
Edwin Sanders furnished them with recommendations to agents and also advised that they read The Bendigo Advertiser, established in 1853. ‘The first newspaper on the Australian goldfields,’ he told them with some pride.
It struck Ella that when young Mr Sanders spoke of Bendigo, there was a note in his voice that spoke of more than merely suggesting a good place to settle.
‘Do you know Bendigo well?’ she asked.
‘Indeed I do. I was born there so it is my home town.’ He smiled directly at Ella. ‘I visit whenever I can.’
Ella smiled back, feeling that in him they had found a friend. ‘Then I hope that we will see you when we are settled. Don’t you, William?’
‘Eh – what’s that?’ William, studying a map of Bendigo and its environs, had missed this exchange.
Once again the briefest of smiles flashed between Ella and Edwin Sanders. ‘Mr Sanders was born in Bendigo, William. So, I think we can be sure any advice he gives us will be of value.’
‘Yes, yes indeed,’ William agreed. Taking advice from anyone was not his strong suit. On the other hand, the fellow may have some useful connections.