At Suez the Deagans and a few other passengers were to transfer to a smaller vessel put into operation specially to make up the shortfall in passenger places caused by the loss of a ship. The SS Coralla was to take them first to Point de Galle, in Ceylon, then on to Fremantle in Western Australia, instead of to Albany. A message had been sent ahead to warn the captain of the Coralla that the Peshawur was on its way through the canal.
There was no time for sightseeing in Suez, to everyone’s disappointment, only time to transfer the passengers and luggage as quickly as possible.
On the new ship they were assigned two cabins, one with four bunk beds and one with two.
‘We’ll have the boys in with us, if you like,’ Ma said. ‘About time you two were able to be alone together.’
Fergus chuckled as Cara’s face turned pink. ‘You’d never make a criminal,’ he whispered to her. ‘You blush too easily.’
But though he might tease her into a smile, she was still apprehensive about being alone with him for several weeks. All those days … and nights.
Their cabin was much smaller than the previous one, with nowhere to hide when she was washing or changing. Indeed, there was only just room for the two of them to stand beside the bunks, and only enough space to squeeze in a nest of blankets for the baby’s bed at the end opposite the door, where there was about a yard of free space. Their cabin luggage had to be stowed either here or in the space below the bottom bunk.
Fergus seemed to guess what was worrying her. ‘We’ll work out how to give one another privacy for getting dressed and undressed so that you feel comfortable. First, though, we need to make a bed for this little rascal.’ He tickled his daughter’s tummy and she gave him a smile that showed her pink gums, wriggling with pleasure and making gurgling noises at him.
There was no doubt, Cara thought, that the baby could recognise people now, and Niamh was so sunny-natured, she was making everyone love her.
‘I’ll go and ask the steward if they have any smaller, children’s mattresses,’ Fergus said.
When he’d gone, Cara jiggled the baby about, wondering whether, now that they had their own cabin, he would claim a husband’s rights. How often did men do it? She was so ignorant of everything that happened between men and women, except for what she’d experienced during the attack. She shuddered at that memory, as she always did.
But, she told herself, Fergus wouldn’t hurt her. He’d given her a couple of light kisses, which had been quite pleasant. He’d held her when she was in trouble, and that had been lovely.
And she had kissed his cheek a couple of times, on sudden impulses. She thought he’d liked that, but how could you be sure?
He came back a few minutes later, carrying a small mattress. ‘There. They seem to have everything on board to cope with families, and the steward was very helpful about it all.’
He was watching her and noticed how she pressed right back against the bunks as he passed. Once she’d put the baby down, he set his hands on her shoulders and held her gently at arm’s length.
Her heart began to beat faster and she froze.
‘Oh, Cara, I’m not going to hurt you, not now, not ever. I promise.’
‘How can it not hurt?’ she whispered, avoiding his eyes.
He looked at her in shock. ‘Do you know anything about what happens in normal congress between a man and woman?’
She shook her head. ‘I asked Mama when gentlemen began trying to court me, but she said it was for my husband to teach me.’
‘Well, I’ll be happy to do that. If it’s done tenderly, it doesn’t hurt at all. Indeed, it can give both the man and the woman great pleasure.’
She shook her head in bafflement, unable to believe that.
‘I’ll show you one day, step by step.’ He let go of her and moved back the tiny distance the cabin allowed. ‘But we won’t make love yet. This place isn’t very pleasant. I was hoping we’d be staying in a hotel for a night or two, to get the chance of a more normal place to sleep, instead of being rushed on board this ship.’
He indicated the bunks with a wry smile. ‘What’s more, if the two of us tried to fit into one of those, we might squeeze in – just – if we clung tightly to one another, but we’d fall out as soon as one of us moved. No, we’ll wait till we get a proper bed to sleep in before we seal our marriage.’
She could feel herself start to relax.
‘Do you want to sleep on top or below, Cara?’
‘Below, please. I’m frightened of falling out.’
‘I like being with you,’ he said. ‘I like that you’re quiet and don’t fill the air with meaningless chattering. And yet, when you do say something, it’s often interesting and always makes sense.’
Which made her wonder yet again about Eileen. To his credit, Fergus had never said a word directly against his first wife.
The more she got to know him, the more she liked him. ‘I hope I can make you happy, Fergus.’
‘I hope we can make each other happy. I’ve grown very fond of you, Cara. Will you tell me honestly if something I do upsets you? Will you always be honest with me?’
She looked at him in surprise, because in her experience husbands and wives didn’t usually tell the truth to one another – certainly not her parents, or any of their friends. She’d heard the women say one thing when chatting together and another thing entirely when with their husbands.
‘Well?’ he prompted.
‘I’d like us to be honest. And I like it when you hold my hand. It makes me feel … safer.’
‘You’ve been feeling unsafe for a long time, haven’t you? Before the baby was born and even on the Peshawur, because Barrett was there.’
‘Yes. I’m starting to feel comfortable now, though, so I think we’ll be all right together. If you’ll just be patient with me.’
‘I can be as patient as you need.’
He seemed to be struggling to find words, but he’d said enough to give her the courage to add, ‘I’m growing fond of you, too, Fergus.’
‘Ah, that’s grand.’ He plonked a kiss on her cheek and then raised her right hand to his lips and kissed it more gently.
And why that should make her feel breathless and set her heart racing, she didn’t understand. But it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, no, not unpleasant at all.
He laughed softly, as if he understood how he’d affected her. ‘Well, that’s a good start. I’ve found a few words, for once, because you’re easy to talk to, and I think we’re getting to know each other better. Now, we’d better go up on deck and join the others.’
He turned round, then stopped and gave her another of his solemn looks. ‘Just one more thing. Don’t be afraid to correct me if I’m doing something wrong. Don’t correct me in public, of course, but when we’re alone, you must tell me.’ His voice sounded very determined as he added, ‘I intend to better myself, Cara, so I must improve my manners, know what to do when I’m with educated people. If my brother can make money, then so can I. I want you to be proud of me.’
‘I don’t hunger for money, Fergus. I’m happy to live simply.’
He didn’t open the cabin door, but stood frowning, so she didn’t speak, just waited.
‘I don’t know what will happen when I’m with my brother. Bram and I were often at odds as we were growing up. And it’s so long since I’ve seen him, I don’t even know what he looks like now.’
‘What was he like before?’
‘Older than me, but there was a resemblance. He was the clever one of the family. He was bossy, too, but that was perhaps because he was acting like a father to the young ones half the time. Our father was useless and lazy.’
‘I don’t think Bram will be cleverer than you now. You seem very intelligent to me.’
‘I do? Well, that’s grand to know.’
She could see that he was pleased by that compliment.
They stood in silence for a moment or two longer, then went up on deck to check on the boys. As they stood together in the bright sunshine, watching the land slide slowly past, she felt more of that gentle happiness flowing through her.
The land was low-lying, not green but sandy. Two men were walking along at one point, leading camels piled with bundles. Both were wearing white robes, one with a red cloak over his. One was wearing a white turban, the other a fez.
She felt contented. Surely everything would go more smoothly now that her biggest worry was gone?
Time passed quickly and pleasantly on the second ship, which had a library for passengers. Both Cara and Fergus made use of it.
There were other children for Sean and Mal to play with, not to mention plenty of activities organised for the children, because the second officer in charge of this sort of thing had a firm belief in keeping youngsters busy and tiring them out.
However, Fergus insisted on his sons practising their reading with him twice a day. They were sulky at first but as they improved, they found the stories they read more interesting and the grumbling lessened.
Cara was starting to feel full of energy, so it was fortunate that she was running a reading class and a reading group as well. Another lady had wished to take the sewing class, but Cara was helping Ma learn to mend clothes and sew.
Fergus listened to the women’s plans and insisted he could perfectly well look after Niamh, and leave both Ma and Da free to fulfil their long-time ambition of being able to read. So Cara began to teach them.
Fergus wanted to attend a class on accounting. It was run by a very prim and proper gentleman who was travelling cabin class, and Fergus said it wasn’t very interesting, but the man was extremely thorough, so he persevered.
‘This feels like the calm before the storm,’ he told Cara one hot night as they lay in their bunks chatting, unable to sleep.
‘Don’t say that.’ She knew him well enough now to guess he was thinking of his brother. ‘You and Bram will get on just fine if you give him half a chance.’
‘I wish I was as sure of that as you seem to be.’
She was beginning to see the doubts and uncertainties behind the confident man, but that only made her care for him more. Who could love a perfect person?
One day Fergus came back to the cabin and swung himself up to lie on his bunk without saying a word.
‘What’s wrong?’ Cara asked at once.
There was silence then he said, ‘I just found out from one of the officers that there are no railways in Western Australia. None at all. How am I going to find a job if there aren’t any railways?’
‘You’ll find something else to do, I’m sure.’
His voice was tight with pain. ‘Yes, work as a labourer! You’ll be proud of me then, won’t you? Do you know how hard I had to work to become more than a labourer?’
‘I’m sure your brother will help you find something.’ She wished the words back as soon as she uttered them, but it was too late.
‘Oh, yes. The great Bram may deign to help me, but I don’t want to be beholden to him or to anyone else, either. I’ve brought my tools. I’m a good mechanic. Really good. I thought—’ He broke off.
She sat on her bunk, moving back out of sight of the hunched figure above, leaving him this small amount of privacy. ‘We may both have to do things we don’t want to at first. It’ll be a new country, after all. But we’ll find a way to better ourselves, with or without your brother’s help. I know we will.’
‘We can’t know anything about the place. We’ve never been there before.’
She couldn’t think of anything to say to cheer him up, because he was right. They didn’t know what they would have to face.
From then on, Fergus tried to hide his anxiety but she knew it was gnawing at him, affecting his temper and even his appetite.
Rémi asked her what was wrong, but she didn’t feel she ought to discuss her husband’s problems with others. If he’d wanted his friend to know what was worrying him, Fergus would have told him.
Rémi went back to the small cabin he occupied on his own and sat at the desk. He could have reached out and touched the bed, and he had to tread carefully, not to trip over his luggage. He’d become much tidier since occupying this cabin. It was the only way to cope with its limitations.
Something was wrong with Fergus and he’d tried to get his friend to talk about it, but hadn’t succeeded. Fergus had become very stiff and kept insisting that he didn’t need help or advice, was merely working a few things out in his mind.
Rémi wasn’t worried about his own future exactly, but the closer they got to Fremantle, the more concerned he became about what he’d do with himself when they first landed. He wouldn’t know anyone, wouldn’t have any idea where to find lodgings. Oh, he could ask about that, but who could he ask about how to arrange his new life, how to meet people, make friends?
There had seemed plenty of time to work such things out when he started this long voyage, but now time was running out and since he knew only a few isolated facts about the Swan River Colony, and none of the other passengers had been there before, he’d found it impossible to make plans. Not real plans, anyway.
Perhaps something similar must be worrying Fergus. But his friend wouldn’t be on his own. He’d have a brother to help him.
Rémi had no one waiting for him in Australia. Money could buy a lot of things, but it couldn’t buy a family or friends. Getting to know people would depend on what he did, and the sheer chance of whom he met.
He gave himself a brisk talking to one night when he realised how low he was feeling.
After that, he set his worries aside as best he could. They would be making landfall soon. Then he could start learning about his new home and doing something with his life.
He wasn’t just going to idle his life away, paid to stay in Australia by his uncle. He might even do as his cousin had suggested and try to make money. There was no denying it came in useful.
That’d show his uncle he wasn’t worthless, wouldn’t it?
But would his uncle care? Would anyone care?
The month after Bram’s tea-party fiasco, Livia debated whether she should go up to Perth on her regular outing to the bookshop. She knew the reason for her hesitation, but why should she let the possibility of meeting Mr Tilsley stop her from enjoying one of her main pleasures in life?
The owner of the bookshop greeted her with his usual smile. ‘A cup of tea, Mrs Southerham?’
‘That would be lovely, Mr Deeping.’
She was sorry to see that he was moving very stiffly and looking quite pale. ‘Are you all right? You look rather tired today.’
He sighed as he lit the burner on his little spirit stove and put the shining copper kettle on top. ‘I’m getting older, Mrs Southerham, that’s all. No one can prevent age from taking away one’s energy.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry.’
‘I’ll tell you now, before you hear it from someone else. If I can find someone to buy the bookshop and stock, I’m going to retire and live out my days quietly in the company of my favourite books. I’ve put the word out that I wish to sell the bookshop, because as you know, the building belongs to me, and one gentleman has expressed an interest. But he hasn’t gone as far as making me an offer yet.’
‘I’d buy it myself if I had the money, but I’m afraid I haven’t. I do hope someone as nice as you takes over the bookshop, someone who really cares about books and customers.’ She gasped as a terrible thought struck her. ‘You won’t let them close the bookshop down, will you?’
‘I’ll try not to sell it to someone who doesn’t want to use it for a bookshop, not least because I shall still be interested in buying the occasional book myself. But I can’t wait for ever, my dear lady. I get tired more easily these days. I’m … weary.’
She had a sudden idea, but hesitated, wondering if he might take offence. ‘I could come up to Perth and run the shop for you one day a week. That would allow you to rest a little more, perhaps.’
He paused, teapot in hand, to look across the shop at her.
He didn’t speak for so long, she said quickly, ‘I won’t be at all offended if you turn my offer down.’
‘I’m touched by it, to tell you the truth. It’s very generous of you. I was calculating how much I could afford to pay you. The shop doesn’t bring in a great deal of money, though there’s more than enough for someone like me to live on. Hmm.’
He stood there, head on one side, a thin, bald stick of a man, quite short, the same height as she was. Sometimes, he reminded her of the cormorants she saw fishing in the harbour.
‘You don’t need to pay me at all, Mr Deeping.’
‘I couldn’t allow you to do it for nothing, my dear Mrs Southerham, and you’ll have the expense of the fare from Fremantle every week, don’t forget.’
Pleasure ran through her at the thought that he might accept her impulsive offer, because the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. ‘Just give me an occasional book. That will be more than enough.’
He shook his head firmly. ‘No, my dear. When running a business, one has to do things properly. Look, I could pay your fare each week and give you five per cent of the money brought in by the books sold that day. We usually manage to sell a few each day, you know, so you wouldn’t go away empty-handed.’ He sighed. ‘I wish it could be more. If you feel my offer is insulting, I will understand.’
‘Nonsense!’ She beamed at him. ‘That’s an excellent offer and I thank you for it. I need something to do with my time, though I admit the extra money will be useful too. Don’t forget, you’ll be saving me the paddle steamer fare from Fremantle to Perth each week as well.’
‘That’s not much.’
‘It’s enough for me,’ she said quietly.
He held out his hand and they shook solemnly to seal the bargain. ‘It’s agreed, then. Look, why don’t you start helping me today? You can pour the tea for us and I’ll nip along the street to buy two little cakes to celebrate our bargain.’
She laughed as he hurried out, knowing what a sweet tooth he had.
While he was away, a customer came in and bought a book. It seemed like a good omen.
She waited till Mr Deeping came back before pouring their tea and then raised her cup as if it were a glass of wine. ‘Congratulate me. I sold a book while you were out.’
He beamed at her and clinked his teacup against hers. ‘That’s wonderful.’
‘It’s a good thing you write the price inside the cover in pencil. I’d not have known what to charge.’
‘Which book was it? Ah, yes.’ He solemnly counted out twopence and placed it in her hand. ‘Your commission, madam. I’ll show you the ledger in which to write down the sale.’
She didn’t even think of refusing the money, knowing he was pleased to give even a token amount to her.
All the way back down the river, she felt happy, but when she told her maids what she’d arranged, they looked at her in dismay.
‘It’s not what a lady should be doing,’ Orla said at once.
Rhoda nodded agreement. ‘She’s right.’
‘I don’t care. I shall be happy with the arrangement and enjoy selling books, and that’s the main thing.’
Livia would also look forward very much indeed to a weekly day out. She tried not to complain, but her life was rather dull, in spite of her two kind maids and her various friends.
Her life wasn’t dull enough, however, to make her consider marriage with a man she didn’t like in that way. Definitely not.