Catherine and Timmy covered the twenty dusty miles in record time. The horses were refreshed and well rested, and for a change the stream of gold diggers were prepared to move to one side of the road to allow them to pass.
‘We should be back in the Turon pretty soon.’ Timmy’s words invaded her thoughts and she lifted her head. ‘Shame Mrs Kenney won’t get her money. What’s she going to do? Rudi won’t put up with this sponging for much longer and I can’t see her doing much around the camp to earn her keep. She’s got those kids to worry about.’
These were the same concerns that had plagued her for the last ten miles. Catherine didn’t relish having to explain to poor Tilly that her notes were worthless and she was so determined not to accept charity. She needed money now, for herself and for her children. If only she still had the gold or even the licence for their claim, but that would have long since lapsed because she couldn’t afford the thirty shillings to renew it, never mind working the claim.
The sun darted and drifted between the clouds, turning the landscape to colours worthy of a painting. Beautiful, but no use to Tilly. She needed money and she needed it now.
Did Tilly have to know her promissory notes hadn’t been cashed? She patted the hem of her jacket, feeling the weight of Archie’s money. If she gave Tilly the money and told her the bank had honoured her promissory notes, no one would be any the wiser. It was the perfect solution. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? She could have saved the trek into Bathurst. ‘Come on, Timmy, dig your heels in. Let’s see how quickly we can cover the last few miles.’ She clicked her tongue and loosened Bessie’s reins. ‘Come on, girl, show us your best.’
Bessie’s best didn’t last long because they got caught up in a belligerent influx of people heading for Golden Point. ‘Timmy, let’s leave the road and see if we can find a path parallel with it. There are hardly any trees to block our way as they’ve all been taken for firewood or tent posts. It’ll be much quicker.’
She pulled off the track onto the uneven ground, her eyes constantly scanning ahead, looking for the billowing tents of the camp. It was as though she were returning home. Not permanent, yet a home nonetheless. People made a home. Sergey. Her heart picked up, beating a tattoo that kept rhythm with the pounding of Bessie’s hooves on the hard packed dirt.
‘We’ve made it!’ With an excited cry Timmy overtook her and cantered across the stretch of grass towards the collection of white tents marking Circus Point.
A couple of hands waved in recognition and she slowed Bessie to a walk. She rode into the horse yard and handed Bessie over to Zac. ‘Before I go, Timmy, can you do something for me?’
‘Sure. What do you want?’
She dragged him aside, away from Zac’s flapping ears. ‘I’m going to tell a little bit of a white lie. I need you to keep your mouth shut.’
He frowned. ‘Thought you were a lady.’
So did she, once upon a time. It hadn’t prevented her from bending the truth. ‘I’m going to tell Tilly the bank cashed her notes.’
He wrinkled frowned. ‘Why would you do that?’
‘Tilly won’t take charity. She needs to get well, not worry about money, so I’m going to give her the money and keep her notes to cash when the bank sorts out the mess.’
‘I get it. So you’re kinda like the bloke at the store, an agent.’
‘Something like that. Think you can keep it under your hat for me?’
‘I’d do just about anything you asked me to do, Miss Catherine.’ His face flushed puce. ‘Course I can.’
‘Thanks. Did you see Sergey when we rode in?’
‘Nope. Saw some of the girls, they know we’re back. News’ll be round by now.’
Then where was Sergey? Her body as good as ached for the touch of his hands. Ever since they’d left she’d imagined his strong arms lifting her out of the saddle. The thought made her pulse ripple beneath her skin.
‘What took you so long? Why didn’t you come back last night?’ His voice ripped through her and she took a step towards him. He held up his hand to stop her. ‘We need to talk.’
Her heart started galloping. Not just talk. She wanted his arms around her, his lips on hers. She swallowed. ‘Timmy and I had to stay the night in Bathurst because the bank was closed when we arrived. How’s Tilly? Is she any better?’
‘She’s much better apparently. When you’ve spoken to her come to Rudi’s tent.’ His black eyes bored into her then narrowed. With that he turned on his heel and disappeared. Nothing like the reception she’d hoped for, longed for.
Minnie sat in a pool of winter sun just inside the tent with the baby cradled in her arms. She smiled and brought her fingers to her lips. Tilly lay on her back, her face still pale, however, there was no sign of her previous fever and grey pallor.
Catherine stepped back out of the tent and waited while Minnie settled the baby in the hipbath that formed a makeshift crib, then joined her. ‘How is she?’
‘Better, I think. Much better. She’s having no trouble feeding the baby and she’s eating. Nothing solid but plenty of soup, gravy and tea.’
‘And the fever?’
‘Good as gone. She’s still weak though, and sleeping a lot.’
‘Then there’s no need for Rudi to worry about an outbreak of typhus.’ Catherine shoved her hands into the pockets of her riding habit and felt the comfortable weight of Archie’s money. ‘I need to get changed and tell Tilly what happened.’
‘Have you got the money?’
‘Everything’s sorted out.’ Or it would be very soon.
‘Catherine?’ Tilly’s voice, so much stronger than before, made Catherine turn back to the tent. Tilly was leaning on her elbow and there was a faint bloom in her cheeks, nothing to do with a fever: the return of health.
She crossed the floor and dropped to her knees by the pallet. ‘You’re feeling better?’
‘Much. Tell me. Did you get our money?’ Hope flared in her eyes, cementing Catherine’s decision. ‘I want to give Rudi the money. He’s been so kind allowing us to stay here.’
‘I have your money, all safe and sound.’ She patted her jacket pocket. ‘Go back to sleep and I’ll tell you the whole story when you’re rested. Make the most of it. Your baby will need you again soon.’
‘Pete.’
‘Pete?’
‘Yes, after his father. He’d like that.’ Tilly’s head rested back on the pillow and she closed her eyes but not before a tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. All well and good to recover her health, now she had to face her uncertain reality. The goldfields were no place for a woman and three children with or without money.
When Tilly woke Catherine would give her the money, tell her the bank had honoured the notes and she could pass the coins onto Rudi. She stroked Tilly’s hair back from her forehead. ‘Sleep well.’ Feeling no sign of a fever she tiptoed past the hipbath where baby Pete slept, his thumb tucked into his mouth.
Sergey stood waiting just outside the tent, his foot tapping and a frown slashing his forehead. ‘Come along. There’s someone you need to meet.’ He tugged at her sleeve and led her around the firepit to Rudi’s tent.
She shrugged off his grip. What had him so fired up? ‘Who?’
He held open the tent flap and Catherine bobbed her head and entered then came to a grinding halt.
Princess Valentina!
Her heart gave a strange tug. Was that why Sergey was behaving so oddly? Perhaps Valentina was upset that she’d stepped in and taken her place. Her heartbeat quickened; she didn’t want to stop riding with the circus, didn’t want to lose the special bond she and Sergey had.
‘Catherine, may I introduce my sister, Valentina.’
The girl, woman, which was she? Close up she looked so very different from the woman she’d last seen in the ring. The woman Bartholomew was so taken with. A strange mixture of pixie and statuesque beauty, with her dark hair curling on her neck and her brown eyes flashing.
Valentina almost jumped from the chair. ‘Sergey’s told me all about you.’
Catherine couldn’t say the same. Sergey had hardly told her anything about Valentina other than the fact she was his sister. She flashed him a look but he turned away.
‘I’m happy to meet you.’ Catherine slumped down on the vacant stool and swallowed. When had Valentina arrived? What had taken her so long? And what had made Sergey so angry?
‘Valentina arrived yesterday.’ Sergey anticipated the first of the myriad questions leaping around inside her head. ‘But first tell us what happened in Bathurst.’
From the expectant looks on Rudi and Sergey’s faces they were more than keen for her answer. Was it any of their business? Tilly would have her money and Mr Noakes would ensure the storekeepers didn’t issue any more of the promissory notes.
Sergey could hardly keep still. His eyes kept flicking to the pile of papers in front of Rudi while his foot started an irritating tattoo in the dirt.
Valentina and Rudi seemed equally unsettled. She fidgeted with the folds of her blue skirt while he drummed his fingers on the table as they edged closer to his ever-present bottle of rum.
Catherine let out a huge breath. Was she going to tell them that the bank had refused to honour the promissory notes or the story she’d given Tilly? Now she wished she’d waited, spoken to Sergey first. ‘It’s complicated.’
‘I’ll bet it is.’ Rudi’s growl made her skin prickle.
‘Start at the beginning.’ Sergey prompted, his arms folded across his broad chest as he stood over her. ‘You and Timmy left here yesterday afternoon. Why stay the night in Bathurst?’
‘The road was clogged. I told you. When we arrived the bank had closed so I took a room at The Royal Hotel. I was on the doorstep when the bank opened this morning.’
‘Dressed in that very fetching riding habit. How could anyone resist you?’ Valentina interrupted, earning herself a scowl of reprimand from her brother. She laughed and rocked back in her chair. ‘Such things are important to a woman.’
A surge of relief ran hot through Catherine’s veins. Valentina at least seemed to be friendly. ‘I asked to see the manager, Mr Noakes.’
Rudi opened his mouth, then closed it with a snap when he and Sergey exchanged one of their glances. A trickle of sweat began its slow journey down the back of her neck. The charged atmosphere had nothing to do with Valentina’s frivolous comment. Something else had happened.
Now wasn’t the time to explain what she intended to do for Tilly. She made her decision. She’d stick to her story. ‘The bank honoured the notes. It seems there was some mistake and no more will be issued.’ That was close enough, wasn’t it? Hardly a lie. Mr Noakes had been adamant that the man responsible for the forgeries would be held accountable. All the storekeepers would be informed and the diggers would be warned not to accept the promissory notes. No one else need suffer as Tilly might have done.
‘Well, well, well. What a surprise.’
‘Valentina!’ Sergey sat down on the edge of the table, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. He might have thought he looked relaxed but the tension poured from him in waves. ‘So you left with the coin. Without any problems?’
‘Yes, I did.’ Her voice steadied as her lie settled.
Another loaded look shot between the two men and Sergey’s jaw clenched. ‘This Mr Noakes, did he have anyone with him?’
‘No. Well, yes he did. His assistant.’ She was suddenly cold, chilled to the bone.
Sergey’s eyes, like chips of coal, hard and flat, studied her with an unreadable expression. ‘His assistant?’
‘Yes, a boy, with a sharp nose.’
A blue vein pulsed at Sergey’s temple and his gaze bore into her face as though waiting for her to say something more.
‘Tilly’s notes have been honoured.’
‘How did that come about?’
It was none of Sergey’s business. This was Tilly’s money and she needed it. If she told Rudi, or Sergey, she’d given Tilly the money they’d be furious. They would tell her she’d once again involved the circus in matters that were none of their business. Rudi would force Tilly out of the camp. She’d be thrown back to the awful gunya on the riverbank amongst the canvas shanties where she and the baby would more than likely fall victim to typhus. Rudi was less interested in Tilly and her children than the persistent rats that plagued the camp.
If Tilly could pay her way Rudi might let her stay at Circus Point. ‘He said there’d been some discrepancies and the matter was resolved.’ Not strictly the truth but close enough, certainly until she found out what was going on between these three. ‘Is there something you want to tell me?’ She raised her eyebrows.
‘Yes. There’s a lot you need to know.’
‘Valentina!’ Sergey’s voice boomed out. ‘Stop!’
Rudi’s sudden intake of breath sounded in her ears and she turned to him. His face was as red as Mrs Duffen’s tomato sauce. He pushed back his chair, knocking it to the ground, muttering something that sounded like the string of curses Archie used when things went wrong. ‘I want her out of here. The sooner the better, with that bloody disease-ridden woman and her brats too.’
‘Out of here?’ Catherine’s voice squeaked. What was he talking about? Tilly was in no fit state to leave. And she didn’t want to leave, not yet, not until her birthday or near about. Maybe Valentina didn’t want her to ride, that was fine, but not leave. Not yet.
‘Go!’ Rudi pointed a finger at the canvas tent flap.
She stood, her knees weak with the effort. She had to talk to Sergey, alone. Only a few days ago he’d held her in his arms and told her he loved her. Now Rudi wanted her gone and Sergey hadn’t uttered a word in her defence.
As she moved to leave the tent she had to sidestep Rudi’s bulk. He held out his arm, blocking her way. Her stomach twisted in panic. ‘Go!’ He lifted the canvas flap.
‘Sergey, please. I don’t understand.’
‘You heard what Rudi said.’
‘You want me to leave?’ She gently touched his shoulder.
He reared away from her. ‘Don’t touch me.’
Stung, Catherine stumbled out, hugging her riding habit tight against the biting wind. Sergey’s cold words were ringing in her ears. She shivered as she slipped into her tent.
Tilly lifted her head and smiled. ‘He’s going to be a big lad. Always hungry like his father.’ She ran her hand over the down on the baby’s head. ‘Tomorrow I’ll be well enough to get up. I’m going to see if I can help with the cooking. Give the girls a break. They’ve helped me so much with Pete. Everyone’s so kind, especially Rudi, letting me stay.’
Catherine chewed on her lip, loath to spoil Tilly’s pleasure. She took off her jacket and sat down on the edge of the pallet. ‘I’ve got your money here.’ She turned the jacket inside out and began unpicking Archie’s stitching.
‘That’s a good place to keep it. Why don’t you leave it there until I talk to Rudi and ask what I can do to help pay my way and how much I owe him. Then I’ll buy the kids some new boots. It’s getting so cold, I can smell snow in the air. They can’t keep running around with bare feet.’
Catherine sighed, she had to tell her and tell her now. ‘Tilly, I’ve just been talking to Rudi and Sergey.’ She couldn’t repeat Rudi’s words, disease-ridden woman. Tilly was no more disease ridden than she was. ‘Princess Valentina’s back and Rudi doesn’t need me to ride for the circus anymore.’ Not the truth but what difference did that make? She’d told so many lies in the past months and she’d no idea why Rudi wanted her gone. ‘I’m going home. Would you like to come with me, and bring Becky and Jacky?’ Tilly might be better but not well enough to fend for herself and the children in the goldfields. If Rudi truly wanted them to leave they had no alternative but to return to Cottington.
‘And Baby Pete?’
‘Of course.’ Mrs Duffen would welcome Tilly with open arms and nurse her back to health, relishing the sound of children in the barren house.
The question was how? Alone she could ride Bessie, maybe the road to Sydney would be faster than the meandering route the circus had taken, but Tilly and the children couldn’t manage a trip on horseback.
‘It will be a long journey, we can hire a wagon.’ Would that trip be long enough to spin out her return for another six weeks until her birthday? If she arrived home any earlier she’d still have Bartholomew and De Silva to contend with, and she’d have to eat humble pie and explain to Archie that her marvellous plan, her bid for freedom, lay in tatters at her feet.
Whatever had possessed her to leave in the first place? Why hadn’t she stayed and fought for Cottington? All the lies and running away hadn’t helped. She was back where she started.
‘Catherine!’
‘Who’s that?’ Tilly covered Pete’s head with her shawl.
‘It sounds like Rudi. I’ll go and see what he wants.’ Maybe he’d changed his mind, perhaps Sergey had spoken to him and he’d come to say he’d reconsidered.
Rudi stood with his back to the fire, leaning heavily on his cane, a sheepish looking Timmy stood alongside, shuffling from one foot to the other. ‘There’s a mail coach leaving for Bathurst in half an hour. I want you on it, and that woman and her brats.’ He held out a small leather pouch. ‘There’s enough money here for the fare, your share of the takings, then when you get to Bathurst pick up the Sydney mail coach. It’s the quickest way. After that you’re on your own.’
‘I don’t want your money.’ She pushed his hand aside and the pouch fell to the ground.
‘You earnt it, you take it. I’ll not be indebted to anyone.’
‘I don’t want it. I want to talk to Sergey.’ She had to talk to him.
‘He’s busy. The afternoon performance has just begun.’
‘But I can’t leave without …’
‘Timmy, make sure they’re all on that coach or you’ll be on the next one.’ Leaving the pouch on the ground Rudi stamped off.