10

Learning to survive alone

January 1900

The honeymoon period came to an end more abruptly than even Gwenna anticipated.

They were barely inside the door after returning from the New Year’s Day celebrations, when Jack insisted he and Johnno head south. “I’ve business to do,” was all he’d say in explanation.

Johnno tried to argue it was too soon to leave Gwenna on her own. “She doesn’t know the area, or met any of the neighbours. Let’s leave it for a while, eh Jack? Let her get a bit more settled.”

“We leave tomorrow.” Jack thumped the table, ignoring Johnno. He glared at Gwenna, daring her to contradict him. 

Feeling too weak to fight him, she dropped her gaze. It went against all her instincts to let him win, but now wasn’t the time to pick a fight.

“Make yourself useful,” he snarled at her. “Pack his stuff and get some food ready.”

They ate their meal in silence. Resentment oozed from Johnno, while Gwenna began to regret jumping from the frying pan into the fire, even if she’d had no choice. Jack smirked and held out his mug or his plate when he wanted her to serve him. Once Johnno protested; only once.

“If you want her to remain under my roof, she does as she’s told.”

Later, in the privacy of their room, Gwenna begged, “Please, Johnno, we have to get a place of our own. Soon. I can’t live here – not with him, and certainly not without you being here with me.” 

Johnno tried to comfort her. “Not just yet awhile, Gwenna love. You’ll be fine. I’ll talk to him while we’re away. Make him understand I’m a married man now. He’ll come round, I just know it.” 

He tried to kiss her, caressed her face with a gentle finger that wandered down her neck to her breasts, but she was too tense – and too upset to be persuaded. She turned away from him and, making as little noise as possible, cried herself to sleep.

When she woke in the morning, his side of the bed was empty.

* * *

With a start, she leapt out of bed and, grabbing her dressing gown, hurried towards the hallway. Before she’d taken three paces her head started spinning and nausea rose from her stomach. She slumped to the floor by the doorjamb, trying to take deep breaths and gather her senses.

“Johnno,” she called, then again louder, but received no response. She willed herself to be still and quiet her breathing, straining to hear any movement. Anything, but no sounds reached her ears. Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it pounding and echoing in her ears. She pulled herself to her feet and, holding onto the wall, made her way down the dark, wood-panelled hallway leading to the kitchen at the back. 

The early morning sun seeped in through the grimy window; an errant thought she’d have to clean it drifted through her mind as her eyes searched for evidence she wasn’t alone. Any sign. Anything to quell the mounting terror, but she found nothing. No signs. No note. No fire in the range. She’d never been this alone before.

Shaking, and with the queasiness mounting, she opened the back door, ran down the steps and across the grass to the outhouse before she realised she was barefoot. The stench emptied her stomach in seconds. 

Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she tiptoed back across the grass, her feet now sensitive to every stone and foreign object in her path, and into the dimness of the house. Her teeth started to chatter, despite the warmth of the morning, as she stood by the door surveying the room. Clamping her jaw tight, she folded her arms across her body trying to calm her nerves while her mind listed what she should do next.

The square wooden table was as she’d left it last night, so the men hadn’t had any breakfast. The hamper she’d packed for them had gone, so they’d not go hungry. Although why she should worry about whether they’d eaten or not when there were more immediate things to worry about, she couldn’t explain.

Light the fire. At least then she could have a cup of tea. That might help calm her. As soon as she moved the dizziness came on her again; she reached for a chair and sat down, scared she would faint. And then what? How long would she lie there before someone found her? The quivering and shaking started again.

Sunlight shining into the room highlighted its dinginess. The sagging scrim-lined walls, yellowed with age and darkened with soot from the fire, closed in on her. Despite her meagre efforts, ingrained dirt still lay on every surface. Doorknobs wouldn’t turn, window catches wouldn’t shut, and the cracked and broken floorboards let the vermin in. She loathed the place, but she felt so weak and shaky at the moment she doubted she had the strength to do anything about it.

How she would tackle the outhouse on her own she had no idea, and the thought of carrying the water from the rainwater tank up the steps at the back seemed impossible. Johnno had done that for her. Tears fell as she contemplated her lot. They would have to get out of here before winter – before the baby was born. She couldn’t, just couldn’t live here any longer. Giving way to her unbearable gloom, she laid her head on her arms and sobbed. 

She must have dozed off because when she next stirred pins and needles prickled her arm and her back ached. She stretched, easing her strained muscles, and this time she did light the fire. Johnno had left a pile of kindling, a basket of logs and a scuttle of coal for her. 

Sipping on a cup of tea, she weighed up her options, her mind spinning with questions to which she had few answers.

Should she stay here, not knowing how long Johnno would be away? Could she introduce herself to the neighbour so she’d have someone to talk to? But her strength had deserted her in the last few days. She’d never felt so weak. She didn’t know if she could walk the good half-mile to the nearest house.

And where were the shops? Johnno had collected what she’d needed when he’d taken the wagon out last time. Could she walk to the village to get fresh food?

Should she go to Bethan? She was sure her stepmother would be more than pleased to take her in, but Gwenna couldn’t risk upsetting the precarious balance that existed between Bethan and Elias right now. 

Should she go to Tillie? Her sister had enough to do, with her expanding girth and seeing to Charlie as well as caring for Tom who had his job. She was sure Tillie would welcome her in, but she couldn’t put her in such a difficult position.

So, she was back to staying here – alone. 

Every fibre in her body screamed, ‘No!’ 

But stay she did.

Her father’s words kept echoing in her head. “Gwenna, bach. We can do anything we put our mind to.” 

It was the argument he’d used when they’d moved to the Valleys to live with the Hughes family in the first place. He used the same argument after Owen was killed and he married Bethan and rose to be head of the household. He’d said the same thing over and over to push his argument about coming to New Zealand. Pa had had such hope. 

At first, thoughts of her father deflated Gwenna’s spirits further. If he hadn’t died, life would be so different, but then her mood lightened. Pa said she could do anything. She just had to get on with it. 

From somewhere in the centre of her being, she would find the strength. She had to. She placed her hands over her stomach. “I don’t know who you will be yet, but you are Pa’s grandchild and that means something. You are the future. For your sake, I will fulfill Pa’s dreams. I will.”

* * *

The house Johnno walked into the following Thursday afternoon was nothing like the one he had left. The open windows sparkled in the light. The newly blacked coal range shone, and the sink bench had been scrubbed almost white. A tablecloth covered the table, and the bright-coloured crocheted blankets thrown on the sofa hid the splits, despite Jack’s warning about fripperies. It felt cosy and lived in.

“Gwenna?” He dropped his bag on the floor. “Where are you, Gwenna?” When there was no reply, he went exploring. He found her asleep on their bed, but it wasn’t the same room he had left a little over a week ago either. He touched her shoulder and she stirred. 

Turning over, she opened one eye against the glare of the afternoon sun and was awake in an instant. “You’re home. Oh, Johnno. Thank goodness.” She threw her arms around him so hard he lost his balance. “I thought you’d gone forever. Oh, how I’ve missed you.” 

“Steady on, Gwenna love.” Sprawled half across the bed, he laughed as he disentangled himself. “Let me breathe.”

Once he’d extricated himself, he sat beside her and held her in his arms. “I missed you, too.” He planted several kisses on her forehead and face. “I’ve been worried about you, which is why I’m here. But I can’t stay long.”

Her face fell and she pulled out of his embrace to peer at him. “Why not? Where are you going? How long will you be gone? Don’t leave me again,” she gabbled. 

“Slow down. I’ll explain everything, but first, how about you tell me what’s been going on here.”

“Do you like it?” A smile of deep pleasure lit her eyes. 

The furniture had been moved around, a new white candlewick bedspread covered the wrought-iron bed, lace curtains Tillie had made for her hung in the windows and a vase of flowers decorated the dresser making it smell clean and fresh. The whole room shone. 

“It’s very nice. Did you do all this by yourself?”

“Yes. Well, no. Not exactly. Oh, Johnno. I was in such despair I didn’t know where to start.”

She explained how tired she’d been and how sick. “I lay around for two days after you’d gone. Every time I moved I felt sick or faint, and I couldn’t eat anything. I was that scared, but I felt Pa’s spirit inside me, urging me on.” She stopped, unable to explain what she meant. “Maybe the baby moved or something because I felt less sick and giddy, but I was still so weak.”

She’d finally eaten an egg with a cup of tea and, with several rests along the way, had walked the distance to the neighbour’s house.

“She was such a nice person. Mavis Milligan is her name. She said she’d get a message to Mam for me. I gave her the telephone number, but I suspect she sent a telegram.”

She’d needed to explain to Mavis, who had never seen ‘one of those newfangled things’, how telephones worked. Elias, resistant at first, had agreed to install one since telephones had become popular for business purposes. For most people, telegrams were still the best way of getting in touch. 

“The next morning Mam arrived on the doorstep. I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life. In the meantime, Mavis had given me some Dinneford’s tonic. She said she could tell I was carrying and I was too pale. It worked wonders.”

Choosing her words with care, she explained how horrified Bethan had been at the state of the house and had nearly forced her to return to North Street. But in the end, Bethan had agreed to help clean the place up a bit. 

“She couldn’t stay long – only for the day – because Elias was due home and she didn’t want to upset him by not being there. She fed me some soup, and by the next day I felt stronger. She said I had to keep taking the tonic, and she’d get me some iron pills.”

Gwenna willed Johnno to say something reassuring, but he didn’t. While he could not have known how sick she had been, neither did he understand how miserable she was, and he’d ignored all her pleas to find a place of their own. 

“So how did you do all this?” He waved his arm around the room.

“Mam helped me. She came back the next day, as she said she would, with those iron pills. They’re wonderful, and I got stronger each day. We moved the bigger furniture around in here, and Mam carried water from the tank into the house. We filled all the buckets and bowls I could find and I heated it a pot at a time on the range. Can you fill more for me, now you are here?”

Johnno nodded. “I’ll ask about installing a pipe to the door, too, if you like. But tell me what else happened.”

She had so much to tell Johnno, words tumbled over each other.

“Mam made me promise to have a rest each afternoon, which is why you found me asleep now. I spent two days giving this room a thorough doing, but only in short bursts. Honest. And I rested. The bedspread was Mam’s. She brought it for me, and Mavis picked the flowers. She’s called in a couple of times, just to see how I’m doing. I need to pay her back for the Dinneford’s, and I want to get some more. Have you got any money? Can you take me to town?”

Gwenna was so pleased to see Johnno she couldn’t stop talking. She also explained how Bethan had brought her a box of lime, and together they had tossed it and heaps of ashes from the firebox, into the dunny. 

“It stank, Johnno. Did you never notice? I couldn’t bear to be inside the thing. Mavis also said to cover it each time with sawdust or straw, but I didn’t have any. Bethan threw the vegetable scraps down into it. It’s better, but you’ll have to dig a new one. I’ve been using a potty.”

“I’ll add it to the list,” he said, grimacing, repelled at the thought of tackling the job. “Anything else?” 

“Did you see the kitchen? After I’d got this room looking nice I decided to tackle the kitchen. I just finished it this morning.” 

Gwenna ran out of steam and remembered Johnno had some explaining of his own to do. 

“Can I at least have a cup of tea and something to eat, first? Please?” Johnno took her hand and led her towards the kitchen.

Gwenna put the kettle on the range to boil and whipped up a batch of Welsh cakes to go with their tea while Johnno stoked up the fire. Feeling safe and contented now he was back, she started humming as she creamed the butter and sugar, stirred in the eggs, flour and raisins, and dropped a spoonful at a time on the hot griddle. The smell of melting butter made Johnno’s stomach rumble. In a hurry to get home, he hadn’t eaten that day.

“I don’t know what happened to put Jack in such a bad humour, but whatever it was, he was keen to get away south. We’d been on the road for two days, calling into small settlements west of Pukekohe, and then he tells me to leave him. I’m to take the wagon and deliver whatever goods he still had on the back to Waiuku. Then I was to come and find him in Tuakau.”

Johnno munched through several hot Welsh cakes and swallowed two cups of tea before he felt full enough. “We fought most of the way about leaving without telling you how long we’d be. He said he didn’t know how long we’d be away, so I told him he could stay in Tuakau by himself. I wanted to come back here to see you.” Johnno reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Gwenna. I should have prepared you better. I’m proud of you. You’ve done wonders.” 

Gwenna wasn’t at all sure he understood what she was saying. He sounded indifferent to her fears, and she wanted to make Johnno feel bad for leaving her.

“I was that frightened, Johnno, when I realised I was on my own. I’ve never been overnight on my own before, anywhere, not ever. I didn’t know what would happen to me if no one knew I was sick. I could have died.” Feeling she was being a little overdramatic, she added, “I am better than I was, but you can help me fix up the scrim, and scrub these walls and the hallway to make up for it.”

She saw his face change. Neither of them could be certain how Jack would react to the changes, but they suspected he wouldn’t be happy about any of it. “I’ll not touch Black Jack’s room. I promise. And has anyone ever used the front room? There’s furniture in there all covered in dust sheets, but beyond peeking in I’ve not been in there either.”

She yelped in surprise when Johnno grabbed her arm. “Don’t ever go in there, Gwenna. Jack’d come close to killing you if he found out.” Johnno paused, releasing his hold, and stared along the corridor towards the front room and back at Gwenna. He took a deep breath. “It was my mother’s favourite room. I was just a nipper when she told him she wanted to leave. Jack got himself into a right rage. He told her to get out and threatened he’d kill her, and me, if she ever came back. He wouldn’t let her take anything with her either. He tied me to the verandah post and burnt all her belongings on the lawn as she watched and begged him to let me go. The front room furniture is all that’s left. Jack refuses to use it.” The painful memories clouded Johnno’s eyes. “Don’t say anything, Gwenna. Or ask about it again. Just leave the past where it belongs.”

“I’m sorry, Johnno. I didn’t know.” His story at least told Gwenna a little about why Johnno was tied to his father. And why he lived for today, avoided making plans and dismissed her worries. It also told her a lot more about Johnno’s father and why people called him Black Jack. 

At a loss as to what to say or do next, Gwenna suggested they clean up after their tea, but Johnno had other ideas. Over the course of the evening and well into the night, they made love; she talked about the future, their child, her pa’s dreams, the need for a home of their own and what Johnno would do for a job. He’d been more tight-lipped than usual about what Jack was doing and what it would mean for them. 

“But he’s a carter, isn’t he?” Gwenna didn’t understand what carting they did, since the boats and trains took most of the long-distance goods. “Can’t you take over the carting side of the business and leave him to do whatever else he does?” 

She’d heard rumours, too many rumours in fact, about the way Jack did business, and she didn’t want Johnno caught up in any of it. Money lending was a nasty business at the best of times. Black Jack’s rough methods made it worse.

“That’s the plan,” said Johnno, snuggling into her neck. “Enough talk for now. I’ve better things on my mind,” and he let his hands do the rest of the talking.