Ella reached out her hand as she woke, half expecting to find Edwin still there. As she surfaced to full consciousness, she realized this was absurd; he could not risk discovery – for both their sakes.
She had slept late and the sun was pouring into the room. She stretched, enjoying the unusual luxury of just lying in bed with no pressing chores demanding she get up and attend to them. For a few sweet moments, she savoured the pleasure of the previous night before reality, and what she tried to think of as sanity, took over. She tried to convince herself it had all been a dream; it simply was not feasible that she, who had never particularly enjoyed sex with William, should have found it so pleasurable. Even more impossible that she could have broken her marriage vows so easily and so eagerly. Of one thing she was certain: it had to be a once only occasion.
She dressed slowly and carefully, sure that everything about her would shout to the world, certainly to Alice Sanders, just what she had done. She wondered how she would face Edwin and how he would face her. But she need not have worried. When she made an appearance for breakfast at last, it was to discover he had left very early for Melbourne.
‘In that motor of his, dear,’ Alice told her. ‘He said he had an early consultation and needed to be back at his office. I do hope he drives carefully. I would have felt happier if he had gone on the train.’
Ella murmured agreement and, surprised that she felt so hungry, enjoyed a good breakfast. She told Alice that she thought the wedding had been a great success; Beth had looked lovely, her new husband was very nice and appeared to be ideally suited to her, and the reception had been perfect. ‘I envy her living so near you,’ she added. ‘I really miss my family, my mother particularly, and feel sad that Violet does not know her grandmother.’
Alice reached out across the table and lightly touched her hand. ‘I know it is not the same,’ she said gently, ‘but think of me as a sort of secondary mother and a grandmother to little Violet. You know how fond I am of the child. Beth too. She already thinks of you as a sister, I know, and Violet as a niece. We love you both and are more than happy that your father asked Edwin to keep an eye on your welfare.’
At her words, Ella found her toast was sticking in her throat and could feel a warm flush spreading up her neck. ‘You are too kind,’ she mumbled inadequately, suppressing the thought that if Beth thought of her as a sister then that was not how Edwin saw her.
‘Not at all, my dear, just bring little Violet to see us sometimes and we will be rewarded.’ Alice smiled before adding in a more serious tone, ‘And don’t forget I am here any time for you if ever you need … anything. Just as your mother would be.’
Ella’s thanks were warm and genuine; knowing that she had such a good friend was indeed some slight compensation for having no family of her own in Australia.
When she returned home, Ella was immediately aware of what her mother would call ‘an atmosphere’ between William and Rosie. Her husband was gloomy and morose and Rosie appeared to be avoiding his company. This did not surprise Ella as she did not find a great deal of pleasure in it herself. It was not cheering to hear his constant moans about the difficulties of farming, his complaints about the weather and the men who worked for him; one less, she discovered, than when she went to Beth’s wedding.
‘You should have come with me,’ she told him, for he had been included in the invitation. ‘It would have been a break and you would have enjoyed it.’
‘I have never yet found the least pleasure in that toffee-nosed lawyer’s company,’ he snarled. ‘Charming enough, he may be to you, and no doubt he smarms up to your father, but he treats me as if I am a convict in chains instead of a free settler. Not surprising as he has such a tight hold on the purse strings.’
Ella let that pass, even though she felt in her heart that maybe her father was being harsh on William. She supposed he was doing his best in a strange country and, after all, he had never had anything whatsoever to do with farming, even in England.
‘Violet looks well. She is growing up, isn’t she?’ Ella deliberately changed the conversation and smiled at her daughter who came skipping in at this moment with an egg in each hand.
‘Rosie and I have been getting the eggs. Look at these lovely brown ones.’ She held them out to Ella. ‘Rosie has got a lot more, but these two were the brownest.’
Ella took the eggs and looked up as Rosie came in with a bowl in her hands containing several more eggs. When Ella intercepted the girl’s glance from William to herself, it struck her in an illuminating flash why there had been an uncomfortable feeling in the house since she had come home. Rosie did not want to be alone with William because he had made advances towards her while she, Ella, was away. The look she saw her husband throw at Rosie was one of sheer lust before he hastily resumed his normal, disgruntled expression.
Ella’s immediate reaction was that she did not want to lose Rosie. This had to be stopped. ‘William …’ she smiled at him, ‘I have noticed that Rosie’s bedroom door does not latch too well; it has a tendency to blow open in a high wind. Do you think it would be possible to fix a bolt on the inside?’
As she placed the eggs she had taken from Violet into the bowl in Rosie’s hand and took them to the larder, she noticed with some satisfaction the look of astonishment on both their faces; a shiver of relief also crossed the girl’s features. Ella knew that her intuition had been correct but also that a bolt alone would not solve the problem. That was up to her.
Although Ella knew that her future lay with William and her marriage, it was a few weeks after her return that she faced the fact that this had become a necessity. She was with child again, and it had to be Edwin who was responsible. Feeling far more of a harlot than she had when she and Edwin became lovers, she succumbed with as much grace as she could to William’s advances, closing her eyes and praying that he would now keep his hands away from Rosie and, above all, that the girl would stay.
When she told William that she was expecting another child, he was delighted, appeared to put his back into the farm work and was more gentle and thoughtful towards her than she had ever known him to be. Overcome with guilt, she did her best to be a good wife in every way, and for the months of her pregnancy was content, if not happy.
Ella lay back on her pillows, exhausted. Like her last confinement, this one had been slow and difficult.
‘I don’t think you got your dates right, Mrs Weston,’ the midwife insisted. ‘Whatever you say, this is a very big baby for eight months. It doesn’t look like an eight-month baby to me. See her nails? They are too long.’
Ella was looking not only at the baby’s nails but at her features. To her guilty eyes, she looked incredibly like Edwin, so much so that she was sure it had to be obvious to everyone.
‘I did not make a mistake in the dates,’ Ella insisted, willing the woman to stop harping on about the baby’s size. She tightened her arm slightly round the bundle as she heard William outside the door.
‘There’s your man now,’ the midwife told her, then turning to Rosie added, ‘You can let him in now.’
‘Is everything over? Can I see him now?’ William strode towards the bed, his eyes on the baby. ‘My, but he looks bonny!’ he exclaimed with pride.
‘She is bonny, fine and strong for an eight-month baby.’ Ella’s arms again tightened their grip on the baby in her arms. She closed her eyes and sighed. If only the stupid woman would shut up. Her insistence on the advanced development and strength of the baby might start William thinking. But the baby’s size was not concerning William any more than his wife’s condition.
‘What do you mean “she”? It’s a boy – look at the size of him. That’s not a girl.’
‘I’m afraid it is, Mr Weston. It isn’t size, you know, that determines sex. You are a farmer; you must know that.’
‘Hold your tongue, woman,’ William snarled. ‘Let me look at my son,’ he said to Ella.
Ella opened her eyes and looked up at him. ‘You have no son. This baby is a girl,’ she told him and could not quite hide her elation at the thought that Edwin’s child would be wholly hers.
‘Are you telling me that after letting my son die, you have produced another girl. I can’t believe it.’ He looked so shattered that Ella almost felt sorry for him. The midwife certainly did not.
‘You are upsetting my patient. She needs to sleep.’ She walked over to the door and pointedly held it open. ‘You should be thanking God that this time you have a healthy baby and your wife has stood up to the birth so much better.’ She turned to Rosie who had been standing silent through this exchange. ‘Make a cup of tea, please, for Mrs Weston. For you and me as well,’ she added. ‘I still have some clearing up to do before I go.’ She turned back to Ella. ‘Don’t let him upset you, my dear. Men do get so set on having sons. Now, what are you calling this one?’
Ella looked down at the baby. ‘Marguerite.’
‘Margaret. That’s a nice name.’
‘No, Marguerite. You know – like the daisy.’
The woman didn’t know, and busy with her clearing up and hoping Rosie would appear soon with a good cup of hot, strong tea, she mumbled, ‘Very nice … Margaret … Daisy.’
Ella smiled. ‘Yes …’ she murmured, ‘my little Daisy.’
Ella resumed her household duties, but not her marital ones. Making the excuse that the baby would disturb William at night at a time when he was so busy on the farm with shearing, she moved into Violet’s room with the baby. William protested.
‘Why couldn’t you just put the baby in there?’ he asked, reasonably enough.
‘She’s too young; she needs to be with me.’
With a flash of insight, William thought it was the other way round; Ella needed to be with the baby. He regretted his words when she was born, but the disappointment had been so intense. He had been quite sure that Ella was carrying a son who would replace the one who had died. To add to his frustration, after a couple of nights Violet moved into Rosie’s room. He told himself that he would never have taken advantage of the girl by going to her room uninvited, but it had given him a vague sort of comfort to know that she slept there alone. He did not know that Rosie had actually suggested the child move in with her.
‘Let her move in with me. She’s not getting enough sleep,’ she had said to Ella when Violet was particularly tired and cranky after two nights of broken sleep.
‘Yes, yes, I want to sleep with Rosie. I don’t like sleeping with you and that horrid baby.’
Ella turned away to hide her hurt, yet she agreed.
On the surface, they appeared a normal family, but beneath there were deep divisions. Ella and Rosie worked side by side during the day doing the household chores and caring for the children. William grew more disgruntled and found more solace away from home and in drink. The crunch came when he came home one evening to find Rosie and the children in bed and Ella alone, warming a pan of milk on the stove.
William stood inside the door, watching her for a few moments.
‘Ella …’ His voice was thick with emotion. She looked young and vulnerable standing there in the lamplight in her nightgown with a wrap draped round her shoulders. ‘Ella – please.…’ He moved forward with one hand outstretched. It was a pleading gesture, but Ella recoiled instinctively. If he had not taken her by surprise, she might have schooled herself to some other response – or so she told herself afterwards.
As it was her reaction inflamed him, he took another step and his outstretched hand grabbed her by the arm, the grip of his fingers on her bare skin causing her to cry out as she tried to pull away. William had not drunk enough to be unaware. He pulled her to him, his free arm encircled her and, cursing under his breath, he held her even closer and forced his lips down on hers.
Ella gasped and tried to turn away, but her resistance merely inflamed him more. As he pushed her back against the solid wooden table, she felt herself being bent backwards with his knee against the inside of her own leg. Shocked by his violence and nauseated by the smell of beer on his breath, Ella fought to get away only to make him more determined to take what he felt he had a right to.
Just when Ella thought she might suffocate, he took his mouth away from hers to release the angry words tumbling over themselves. ‘Are you coming to bed, or shall I take you here?’ he snarled. ‘You can take your pick, but you are my wife, and it is more than high time you behaved like it.’
With a superhuman effort, Ella got a hand free and, raising it to his face, she raked her nails down William’s cheek. The pain was so unexpected that he released her and she fell back on the table with a scream. The pan of milk fell over with a clatter as his open hand hit her across the face.
‘William!’ The shocked and angry cry from the doorway made him spin round. Ella, looking past him, saw Rosie standing there, bridling with outrage. She pushed past William and flung herself, sobbing, into the younger woman’s arms. It was a long time afterwards that she registered the fact that Rosie had called William by his Christian name, for the first time in her presence. She did not notice the quelling look she threw at William; only heard her voice taking charge.
‘You had better wash your face,’ Rosie told him. ‘You don’t want to get an infection, nails …’ she trailed off and turned her attention to Ella. ‘I’ll get a cold compress for you. Even so, you may get a black eye – certainly a bruise.’ She pushed Ella down into a chair at the table. ‘Sit there while I clear this mess and get you a cloth and some cold water.’ She glanced across at William who was already at the sink splashing water on his face.
Rosie bustled about with rags and water, mopping up spilt milk and dabbing at Ella’s face somewhat indiscriminately. There was, she thought, only so much a normal red-blooded man could stand. She wondered whether William had the same thoughts about baby Daisy that she herself harboured, or whether this outburst was just the result of normal frustration. She sighed, wondering what was going to become of them all.
‘Hold this wet cloth against your face,’ she almost snapped at Ella, adding before she could stop herself, ‘and stop crying. You will have both the children awake and bawling too in a minute.’
Ella gulped. ‘Oh – Rosie …’ she gasped, watching William leave the room with one last furious glare at her, ‘what shall I do? I can’t – I won’t stay here with that … that brute.’
Rosie, wringing out a cloth over a galvanized pail, looked at her and sighed. ‘No, I don’t suppose you can. But where will you go? Back to England?’
Ella shook her head vehemently. ‘How could I? Even if I could bring myself to admit to my father what a terrible mistake I made in marrying William, I haven’t the money for the passage. No, Alice Sanders said I could always go there if I was ever in trouble, so that is what we will do. We will go tomorrow.’
Rosie stared at her in dismay. She liked it here on the farm. Without either of them, she doubted whether the hens would be fed, the cow milked or a thousand and one chores dealt with. She had stuck by Ella steadfastly, but now – well, she didn’t think all the blame could be laid at William’s feet. And how could he cope at all without either of them? She opened her mouth to say something along these lines, but shut it again. To say anything now would only send Ella into another fit of hysterical weeping. Best to sleep on it anyway, and make her decision in the morning.
In the end, Rosie kept silent until the cab deposited them all at Alice Sanders’s gate. Her heart thumping, she turned to Ella. ‘You will be all right now,’ she told her, ‘Mrs Sanders will look after you. I am going back to hold the fort until you feel ready to come home.’ She bent down and enveloped little Violet in a tight hug. ‘Goodbye, Vi. Be a good girl for your mother now.’ Rosie straightened up and, without a backward glance, walked away just as Alice opened the door to exclaim in surprise at the sight of Ella, already sporting a blue mark on her face and with her bags at her feet. One arm cradled a baby and the other hand firmly gripped Violet who was trying to pull away to run after Rosie. Alice stepped forward and snatched the sobbing child up in her arms, carrying her firmly inside and leaving Ella to follow with her baby and her explanations.