is my mother, and this is my friend Pierre. And I’m here to help my father find plenty of gold. What does sin … shin… what you said, what does that mean?’
‘In Cantonese it means New Gold Mountain.’
Bao’s father said then, ‘Come, daughter, it is time to go. You may talk to Miss Farrell next time.’
As they departed, Bao looked over her shoulder and, with a cheeky smile, gave Amber a little wave.
‘You might have found a friend there, sweetheart,’ Kitty remarked.
Eyes sparkling, Amber replied, ‘Oh, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?’
‘And you’re sure that will be good for business?’ Rian asked dubiously.
Kitty moved the oil lamp closer, and smoothed fabric over her knee to better see the hole—yet another—that Rian had torn in his trousers. ‘I can’t see why not. And there are quite a lot of Chinese on the diggings.’
‘I know, love, but if half the population of Ballarat has stopped buying their bread from your bakery because Lily bloody Pearce has decreed the buns are off because an Aborigine girl works there, are they likely to start again if the place is patronised by Chinese? You know how they’re viewed.’
‘Well, I don’t care what other people think—I’m happy to serve them in my shop. I’ll take anyone, so long as they don’t cause trouble. Except for Lily Pearce.’
Rian stretched his legs towards the fire, his socks flopping off his feet. ‘What is wrong with that woman? She seems to have really taken against you. Do you know why?’
Kitty hesitated. ‘Well, I suspect she’d like to make you one of her, ah, conquests.’
Rian snorted disparagingly. ‘I wouldn’t sleep with Lily Pearce if she were the last woman on Earth. And I certainly wouldn’t pay her!’
‘But she is attractive.’ Kitty couldn’t help pushing Rian a little, if only to give him the opportunity to deny the appeal of another womanand compliment the allure of his own wife. And, she reluctantly had to admit, to reassure herself.
‘Well, to some, perhaps, but not to me. Anyway, she’s probably riddled with pox.’ He left a long, long pause, then grinned and said, ‘And she’s nothing compared with you, mo ghrá . Nothing at all…Is that what you wanted to hear?’
Kitty went red. ‘No, it was not.’
‘Yes, it was!’ Rian was laughing now.
‘No, it wasn’t!’ Kitty snapped, thinking she was far too old for this sort of thing.
She was saved from further discomfort by Amber appearing at door and announcing that supper was ready.
Walking arm-in-arm with Rian to the crew’s tents, Kitty noticed that, now that the end of October was approaching, the diggings suddenly, and unexpectedly, seemed a little less harsh and unforgiving. The breeze on her face was no longer laced with the icy touch of winter, and the colour green was creeping back into the landscape. She had been so busy with the bakery she had barely noticed the quiet approach of spring.
No one said anything as they dug into Pierre’s lamb stew with dumplings, savouring the usual high quality of his cooking. These days he prepared enormous amounts of food: he was feeding thirteen people, and sometimes Patrick and his wife, Maureen, as well as occasionally Binda and her own two grandchildren. There were seldom leftovers.
Mick set his tin plate on the ground, leaned back on his elbows and burped gently. ‘Would anyone be thinking of going to the moonlight dance?’
Nods from the crew, but Kitty was mystified. ‘What dance?’
‘At the Adelphi Theatre, Saturday night,’ Mick replied. ‘Have you not seen the bills posted everywhere?’
Kitty hadn’t. ‘And it’s a public affair? For diggers?’
‘If it wasn’t, it would be at the assembly rooms, wouldn’t it?’ Simon said, referring to the frequent balls held by Ballarat’s government officials for themselves, military officers and the town’s swells.
‘Can I go?’ Amber asked eagerly. She’d been to the circus once so far, but a dance would
‘In Cantonese it means New Gold Mountain.’
Bao’s father said then, ‘Come, daughter, it is time to go. You may talk to Miss Farrell next time.’
As they departed, Bao looked over her shoulder and, with a cheeky smile, gave Amber a little wave.
‘You might have found a friend there, sweetheart,’ Kitty remarked.
Eyes sparkling, Amber replied, ‘Oh, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?’
‘And you’re sure that will be good for business?’ Rian asked dubiously.
Kitty moved the oil lamp closer, and smoothed fabric over her knee to better see the hole—yet another—that Rian had torn in his trousers. ‘I can’t see why not. And there are quite a lot of Chinese on the diggings.’
‘I know, love, but if half the population of Ballarat has stopped buying their bread from your bakery because Lily bloody Pearce has decreed the buns are off because an Aborigine girl works there, are they likely to start again if the place is patronised by Chinese? You know how they’re viewed.’
‘Well, I don’t care what other people think—I’m happy to serve them in my shop. I’ll take anyone, so long as they don’t cause trouble. Except for Lily Pearce.’
Rian stretched his legs towards the fire, his socks flopping off his feet. ‘What is wrong with that woman? She seems to have really taken against you. Do you know why?’
Kitty hesitated. ‘Well, I suspect she’d like to make you one of her, ah, conquests.’
Rian snorted disparagingly. ‘I wouldn’t sleep with Lily Pearce if she were the last woman on Earth. And I certainly wouldn’t pay her!’
‘But she is attractive.’ Kitty couldn’t help pushing Rian a little, if only to give him the opportunity to deny the appeal of another womanand compliment the allure of his own wife. And, she reluctantly had to admit, to reassure herself.
‘Well, to some, perhaps, but not to me. Anyway, she’s probably riddled with pox.’ He left a long, long pause, then grinned and said, ‘And she’s nothing compared with you, mo ghrá . Nothing at all…Is that what you wanted to hear?’
Kitty went red. ‘No, it was not.’
‘Yes, it was!’ Rian was laughing now.
‘No, it wasn’t!’ Kitty snapped, thinking she was far too old for this sort of thing.
She was saved from further discomfort by Amber appearing at door and announcing that supper was ready.
Walking arm-in-arm with Rian to the crew’s tents, Kitty noticed that, now that the end of October was approaching, the diggings suddenly, and unexpectedly, seemed a little less harsh and unforgiving. The breeze on her face was no longer laced with the icy touch of winter, and the colour green was creeping back into the landscape. She had been so busy with the bakery she had barely noticed the quiet approach of spring.
No one said anything as they dug into Pierre’s lamb stew with dumplings, savouring the usual high quality of his cooking. These days he prepared enormous amounts of food: he was feeding thirteen people, and sometimes Patrick and his wife, Maureen, as well as occasionally Binda and her own two grandchildren. There were seldom leftovers.
Mick set his tin plate on the ground, leaned back on his elbows and burped gently. ‘Would anyone be thinking of going to the moonlight dance?’
Nods from the crew, but Kitty was mystified. ‘What dance?’
‘At the Adelphi Theatre, Saturday night,’ Mick replied. ‘Have you not seen the bills posted everywhere?’
Kitty hadn’t. ‘And it’s a public affair? For diggers?’
‘If it wasn’t, it would be at the assembly rooms, wouldn’t it?’ Simon said, referring to the frequent balls held by Ballarat’s government officials for themselves, military officers and the town’s swells.
‘Can I go?’ Amber asked eagerly. She’d been to the circus once so far, but a dance would
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