Time dragged painfully for Keziah after Jake’s departure. She lay awake at night, too dejected to avoid the Romani fear that moonbeams falling across her bed at full moon caused white hair or baldness. What could be worse than a farcical wedding to Daniel Browne? And this coming marriage was one problem that Jake had shown no desire to solve. He had rejected her love.
The day that Nerida called ‘that freedom business’ finally dawned. Although Keziah had promised herself she would make no special effort, she allowed Nerida to dress her hair with a coronet of scarlet bottlebrush flowers that matched the new gown. Later the dress would be covered by its matching jacket to serve as her Sunday best.
George Hobson paced in front of her cottage wearing the formal suit he had worn at his wife’s funeral. He offered Keziah his arm but made no attempt to conceal his dismay that his respected schoolteacher had chosen to marry a lowly government man.
‘Marry in haste, repent at leisure. It’s not too late to change your mind, Miss Plews.’
‘Thank you, Mr Hobson, but this is the road I am meant to take.’
Resigned to the inevitable, Keziah walked to the chapel feeling like a condemned woman. Nerida, resplendent in red and gold brocade, confidently led the way, keeping the peace between Murphy and Gabriel. Wearing identical pageboy suits the little boys were engaged in a sly tug-of-war over who carried the velvet ring cushion.
Keziah had understood Joseph Bloom’s tactful explanation that Saturday being his Sabbath he could not attend her wedding. But now as she walked up the path to the chapel she saw him pacing back and forth reciting his psalms. Trust Joseph to find a way to be with her in spirit.
Her smile froze as she looked into Joseph’s eyes. As if by sleight of hand his conventional suit was transformed into the bewigged costume of a lawyer. Next moment he was once again dressed in his morning suit, his eyes smiling at her over his spectacles.
Keziah was shaken. I’ve lived with the gift of second sight all my life. Why am I so afraid now?
The chapel was filled to capacity. She recognised the irony of the different reasons for attendance. Assigned men came out of respect for the teacher who gave so many the gift of literacy, even giant Sholto could now read the words on his tattoos.
Protestants came to witness the union of what they assumed was two of their own. Catholics came in gratitude Miss Plews had not forced Proddie dogma onto their children. Welsh Wesleyans had the best singing voices in the valley so they came to provide the choir. The Buddhist, Sunny Ah Wei, came for reasons of the heart – Nerida – and to make business contacts.
And Daniel Browne was there to become a free man. He stood at the altar in a dark suit borrowed from Mac Mackie, cuffs added to lengthen the trousers. His hair glinted in the sunlight that filtered through the stained-glass windows. As Keziah progressed up the aisle on Hobson’s arm, she was surprised by the look of admiration in Daniel’s eyes. He sees me as a subject to paint. That suits me just fine.
The dark red of her gown matched the floral coronet on her free-flowing hair and the bottlebrush flowers she carried in place of a bouquet. The gown clung to her body, except for the neckline that slipped off one shoulder as if to proclaim she was no virginal bride.
Keziah felt the eyes of every man in the congregation focused on her, but when she scanned their faces she was searching for one special man. Where on earth is Jake?
• • •
Even before he could see the chapel, Jake Andersen could hear the tinny sound of organ music. He left Horatio to graze and headed straight for the chapel door. Inside it was a hothouse. Heat was captured between the walls and Jake felt a blast of hot air on his face, mixed with the scent of perfume and pomade.
He heard the words of the wedding service being conducted by the elderly clergyman and was relieved to find he had arrived just in time. The old man hardly bothered to raise his eyes when he arrived at the traditional question to the congregation. ‘Therefore if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.’
Jake cleared his throat. ‘Hang on a minute!’
His words were greeted by a confused wave of murmurs. An elderly woman nudged him in the ribs and told him to be quiet. And the giant Sholto tried to push Jake in the direction of the exit. Keziah turned around and for a very long moment Jake’s eyes locked with hers. Her lips parted. She made no sound, but Jake knew she was silently calling out to him for help.
The clergyman looked startled by the ruckus and continued the ceremony at racing speed. He had barely asked the question, ‘Wilt thou Daniel Thomas have this woman Sara Anne to be your lawful wedded wife …?’ before Daniel prevented a second interjection from Jake by loudly cutting across the clergyman’s question with, ‘I will!’
When Daniel bent his head to kiss Keziah’s lips, Jake felt as if some invisible pugilist had hit him in the stomach.
The next thing Jake knew the tinny organ was playing a wedding march and the newly married couple was headed down the aisle towards him. Jake bolted for the door.
He leapt into the saddle, then looked back. Keziah and Daniel wore frozen smiles as Ironbark’s children showered them with confetti. Keziah aimed her bridal flowers at Nerida, but Polly Doyle leapt to catch them and crowed with delight. Daniel looked straight at Jake as he placed his arm around Keziah’s waist and drew his bride to him in a clear gesture of possession.
Jake had seen more than enough. He rode Horatio off at a gallop, but as he reached the Sydney Road he remembered his saddlebag contained a wedding present for Keziah. That would have to wait. He didn’t fancy returning to the wedding breakfast to hear that bloody artist make flowery speeches about the bride.
What he needed right now was a very long night with Lily Pompadour – Wednesday was too far away.
• • •
When Daniel entered the schoolhouse with Keziah on his arm he was surprised to find a lavish wedding breakfast set up in a horseshoe pattern of tables. He knew this was Keziah’s doing. She had cooked a mountain of food for the adults and made fancy party treats for the village children.
He watched her as she mingled with the guests, clearly determined to wear her public smile until her face ached. Only he and Nerida could see the truth in her eyes.
When the final guests had departed, cheered on by wine and goodwill, Daniel escorted his bride home in silence. She was no sooner inside the front door than she changed into her house dress and released her pent-up feelings by cleaning the already spotless cottage.
Daniel sat on the squatter’s chair on the veranda, blowing lazy smoke rings with one of the cigars from the box that was an early wedding present from Jake Andersen. Daniel liked and trusted Jake but he was well aware that his wedding plans had created an underlying tension between them.
Now as he worked on a fresh portrait of Jake, Daniel wondered what made the Currency Lad so different to other men? Only one generation away from his European roots, but already this alien land had left its imprint on Jake’s face and body. Did it also possess his soul? The things that were foreign to Daniel were Jake’s heritage – his earth, sky, air, water. It was as if Jake had emerged half finished from a new mould of Englishman. No manners in the accepted sense, but he had genuine, offhand kindness.
As the portrait swiftly developed into the superbly muscled body of a prize fighter, Daniel recalled the way Jake had presented his gift of cigars with the warning, ‘Smoke them outside or Kez’ll chase you with her broom.’
Like many Currency Lads Jake seemed more comfortable in the presence of men. He half treated Keziah like a mate. But the other half? Daniel was taking no chances. Exulting in his precious freedom, he was determined to safeguard it. He rejoiced in the knowledge he had at last broken free from the Devil Himself and that Keziah, the price of that freedom, was ‘money’ well spent.
He raised his glass in a toast, ‘To me! The lord and master!’
The words had a good ring to them, but when the door flew open Keziah’s expression showed she had overheard them. She charged off towards the creek, a washing basket balanced on her head.
‘I don’t believe it! My bride’s washing dirty linen on our wedding day.’
‘What better day?’
Daniel was determined to have the final word. ‘We’ll be a long time married, Mrs Browne!’
• • •
Kneeling at the creek Keziah felt relieved to be alone. At the thought of Daniel’s ‘holy’ kiss at the altar she wiped her lips to erase the memory. She tried to dredge up Romani philosophy but it was cold comfort. That will be our first and last kiss! Gem scorned me, Jake rejected me as a lover. Now I must live like sister and brother with a gaujo husband. It’s hard to see how this wrong road could ever be the road I was meant to take.
Today for the first time in years she had a man’s clothing to wash. Wistfully she compared her resentment with her sense of privilege as a fourteen-year-old bride washing Gem’s clothes. She paused in the act of scrubbing them on a rock. How odd. Daniel had given her all his wedding clothes to wash with one glaring exception. His shirt. What on earth did that mean?
His parting words resounded in her ears. ‘We’ll be a long time married, Mrs Browne!’
She said the words aloud to give herself courage. ‘Not if I can help it, Mr Browne!’
• • •
That evening Daniel felt a surge of contentment as he ate a fine Romani meal. He responded with genuine interest to the wonderful blend of lamb and exotic spices.
‘How superb. I have married myself a fine cook! Is this to celebrate our marriage?’
‘No. To mark your freedom from Gideon Park. No dog deserves to be assigned there.’
Although she declined the wine he offered, Daniel could detect no deliberate insult when she told him she only drank occasionally with friends.
‘So your husband can never be your friend?’ Daniel teased.
‘My Romani husband was my friend.’
Daniel was determined to keep the upper hand. ‘Then let’s toast Gem. As God wills right now he’s involved in a robbery under arms or else he’s in prison. While thanks to you I’m a free man!’
‘Yes,’ Keziah added, ‘there’s no accounting for the ways of The Del.’
Daniel let that pass, allowing himself to be seduced by the roast lamb. His murmurs of pleasure were so appreciative that Keziah finally gave him a reluctant smile.
‘Perhaps I’ll invite you to dinner again some time.’
‘I’ll come running,’ he promised.
At the end of the meal he yawned. ‘Well, bride, where do you want me to sleep?’
‘The marital bed, where else?’ she said.
Daniel felt confused. Her tone was polite, as if to a house guest. Uncertain of his next move he asked her where she was going.
‘To sleep under the stars.’
He kicked off his boots and shucked his trousers across the floor. He did not remove his wedding shirt, but rolled over onto his stomach, luxuriating in having a large bed to himself. Tonight that was all he needed. Tomorrow would take care of itself.
The yellow orb of the moon shone through the window. Daniel drifted into sleep with the forgotten taste of freedom in his mouth. Tears trickled from the corners of his eyes.
Thank you, Holy Mother, for setting me free.
• • •
For Jake, Keziah’s wedding night ended at the Four Sisters, where he bought drinks for the house. When Lily Pompadour came downstairs she took one look at him. There was urgency in every muscle in his body. Without a word he steered her to the stairs.
She shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, Jake darling. I’ve got a client waiting for me.’
Jake was in no mood to argue. When he opened the door to her room the man who waited for her sat naked on the edge of her bed. Anger flooded over Jake.
‘You! Grab your trousers. Get out of here. She’s my wife tonight.’
The man was small and vulnerable, but he was no coward. ‘I’ve paid me money. And she’s washed me. I won’t be long. Then you can have her.’
‘You won’t live long enough to do it if you don’t pick another woman. Get!’
The man grabbed his boots and fled. Jake felt like a Viking on the rampage.
Lily took her cue. ‘I’m always glad to see you, Jake, but it isn’t Wednesday.’
‘From now on it’s Wednesday whenever I bloody say it’s Wednesday!’
She caught his mood and began to play rough. ‘What’s the celebration in aid of?’
‘My best mate got married today,’ he said, but he felt far from happy.
Lily gave a shiver of triumph as he began to work her hard. ‘Yes, Jake! Give me everything. I’ll make you forget her, I’ll make it so good you’ll forget your own name.’
He knew Lily could take away the pain, but it would need to be a very long night.
• • •
For Keziah, her wedding night was a lonely maze of soul searching. She curled up outside Gabriel’s window to hear him if he woke. Fine rain softly caressed her hair.
A night under the stars like all the Romani nights of her childhood, except that here in Jake’s part of the world the stars were upside down. Keziah could recognise the Seven Stars that gaujos called the Pleiades, a different pattern in the southern hemisphere sky. Jake’s Milky Way stretched across the heavens like the fairytale mirage of a lost city.
Was Gem sleeping under these same stars? Did he still hate her? No. In that terrible moment of truth in the cave he had cried out, ‘Forgive us both.’ Gem was on a very different drom. But where on earth was her road leading?
How ridiculous this wedding night was. The groom was inside, the bride outside. The only one making a lusty night of it would be Jake. She created an unwelcome fantasy of Jake in bed with four naked ‘sisters’. Jake was giving some unknown redhead the ride of her life. Keziah admonished herself. It’s none of your business what Jake does.
It was then she saw it – that dual dimension of time. Her eyes were drawn to the moonlit paddock and Gabriel’s pony. Riding him bareback was a freckled red-headed toddler, wearing ill-fitting clothes as if his mother had dressed him in a hurry.
Keziah felt a stab of jealousy as she recognised Jake’s future son. That redhead’s son? Or Jenny’s? She gave a sad little wave to the lad as the pony turned and trotted away. The child faded from sight until only the pony remained.
The shadow of a cloud passed over the face of Shon in the moon. Keziah’s prayer was in her heart and on her lips. ‘Mi-duvel, please take care of Jake for me.’
She looked up at Jake’s Milky Way and spoke the words softly. ‘We made a pact, didn’t we, Jake? Wives, husbands and lovers come and go but mates are forever.’
From the marital bed came the terrible sound of a man in anguish. ‘No, no! You promised!’
Her Puri Dai’s first rule – a healer must never ignore those in pain. From the doorway she saw Daniel lying face down, locked in a bad dream. She froze in shock. His wedding shirt was saturated with blood from the stripes of a recent flogging.
Keziah never doubted her Romani beliefs were true. This is not the road I wanted to take but it’s not the wrong road. It’s the road I was meant to take.
She slipped inside her cottage to use her gifts to heal her husband. All night she lay awake. The stranger she had married lay cradled like a child asleep in her arms.