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Sunday, 16th December 1888
In the days after they’d parted company at the tearooms the previous month, Brigid had not seen nor heard from Philip. However, in the build-up to Christmas she barely had more than a few moments to herself to think about what that meant. Except at night, when worry gnawed at her. She had trouble sleeping and she was losing weight. She simply had no idea what he might do next.
A couple of weeks earlier, a note from Mrs Browne had eased her mind a little and put a smile on Sally’s face. Philip had returned to Brisbane like a man possessed, she said, and the new store in Eagle Street was being redesigned.
Then this week, she received another note to say they were planning a big opening of the new Harrison Browne Department Store on Christmas Eve.
“She wants to know what I said to him.”
Sally and Brigid sat in the living room upstairs, Sally working on the accounts while Brigid stitched. Laura, sitting beside her, worked at her embroidery, and Jane was sketching at the table.
Sally didn’t take her eyes off the figures in front of her. “From what you told me, you never stopped talking.”
Brigid chuckled. “Aye, but I haven’t any idea what made the difference. He never said a word.”
Secretly, Brigid thought the visits to the drapery stores had sparked his imagination. Although drawing a parallel between his vision and the department stores in Sydney and Melbourne hadn’t done any harm either.
“Will he be back, do you think, hen?”
“I feared he would return, but maybe not any more – not from what Mrs Browne says. And Mr Price tells me he’s as busy as a bumblebee, full of instructions and a sense of importance. But Tommy’s right happy – Harrison Browne ordered a massive amount of fabric.”
Speaking of Tommy had reminded them of those ghastly days of anguish after the visit from the police. Whilst the constable had seemed uninterested in a case from Australia, Brigid couldn’t be certain. Would they be back? And how had Philip known anything?
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, Miss Brigid. Leave it all to Tommy Price here. I’ll find out what the lay of the land is and let you know.”
Without waiting for an invitation from Philip, Tom had taken ship for Brisbane only days later and turned up at the Eagle Street premises. She’d long considered Tommy could sell silk to a silkworm if he set his mind to it, and was not in the least bit surprised when Tommy told her the agreement they had come to.
“Looks like I won’t be visiting you as much as I’d like to for a little while, my girl,” he teased on his return. “I’ll be away, I will, travelling the length and breadth of the globe to source and deliver the type and quantity of product that young mannie wants.”
But Tommy’s greatest revelation was yet to come. He’d made enquiries, both in Brisbane and Townsville. “You see; it’s like this. There’d been these notices put in all the papers. A Mrs Emily McKendrick from the Queens Hotel had advertised for people knowing the whereabouts of Miss Sally Forsythe, or Miss Maggie O’Neill and two little girls, to get in touch. I bet that Harrison-Browne fella saw the notices and put two and two together. After all, he knew their names, if not what happened to them.”
Tommy had talked to Mrs McKendrick. The police had initially connected their disappearance to that of Michael O’Neill, who was listed as a missing person, and questioned her. Mrs McKendrick had explained she’d had a farewell letter from Sally explaining her reasons for leaving, but not a forwarding address. She’d wanted to be in touch with her friend again. With no leads to follow and no reason to suspect anything untoward, the police dropped the matter.
“So you see, there’s nothing to worry about. Mrs McKendrick says she put the advert in several times. One had gone in not long before he turned up here.”
Sally was delighted and immediately wrote to her friend Emily. She would never return to Townsville, she was still scared of Carruthers, and she was happy in New Zealand, and could they still be friends. Emily’s prompt reply followed and the two women continued their friendship by post.
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With that matter off her shoulders, and with her mind at rest, Brigid’s more pressing worries concerned Maggie. She had become totally reclusive and unresponsive after the police had been. She usually hid in her room, only emerging when some urge came on her, then she would clean the house from top to bottom and bake and cook until they had more food than people could eat. Spent, she’d retreat again.
She and Sally had talked about her when the girls weren’t around but couldn’t come to any conclusion. Laura and Jane avoided her and were even frightened by her. Brigid was the only one who could calm her or communicate with her in any way.
Christmas would be a strange event this year, with Maggie likely to hide herself away and Jamie still missing from her life. Brigid was glad to get a letter from home. Nellie’s writing had improved a lot and the letter was longer than most.
Our Breeda,
I’m that excited, aye I am that. I sold my lace pieces, just like you used to, and I gave Ma a few coins. I’m learning dressmaking from the nuns and will be as good as you one day. Ma says she is well and to tell you Máire’s still away working and has a boy now. She sends money home too. She’ll wed next year.
Norah’s good at stitching an’ all, but she still has some funny ways about her. She says she can talk wi’ the faeries. John’s talking a lot to the priest these days. I don’t know what that’s about.
Da says the crop is better this year, and we have plenty of food. It’s not as wet as most years. There are still evictions going on. Bad it is, but we are right as rain now.
The grandparents are getting old. They are tired, they say. Granny Brigid’s not the same since Granda Michael went. She sits in the chair and spins, and sleeps a lot. Ma and me have to do all the work.
I wish you the blessings of the season. I miss you,
Nellie
Brigid folded the letter and put it away safely in her drawer. A tear misted her eyes as she thought about home. Aye, Dear Lord, I give thanks for all You have given me, and for the strength to cope with what You have taken away. But don’t go anywhere, will You? I’ll need You to guide me through this time ahead.