streets to the railway station.
The price of her ticket took all but two shillings. Very well, she would go without food. Undaunted she sat on the cold iron bench beside the equally cold iron posting box to wait. Rain began, misty and soft at first, then hard and pounding.
She suffered less than an hour’s wait for the train, and suffering it was. Did anyone ever sin as Hannah had just sinned? Because of the high incidence of strikes and riots downtown, especially on the waterfront, Hannah was forbidden to walk alone any farther than the school. Here she sat, blocks and blocks beyond where she was allowed to be.
But that was the least of her transgressions. The detention option was a lie, a device to keep Papa away from the school and give Hannah a few extra hours for her escape. She remained, today as yesterday, persona non grata to the abbess. She’d lied about the abbess, a woman ordained for God’s work. She’d lied to her own family and Papa in particular, dear Papa who loved her so. What an undeserving worm she was! No wonder God left her with two shillings for a week’s food! She didn’t merit that much.
By the time Samantha glanced at the hall clock, wondering when her errant daughter might return, Hannah had crossed the border from New South Wales into Victoria, the first leg of her long, long journey to Kalgoorlie.
C HAPTER T EN
P ERFIDY
On a whim, Colin turned aside from Lionel Street into MacDonald Street and followed it the few blocks to the racecourse. He slipped through the gate and walked out to the rail. Long gray shadows stretched out across churned dirt. A waning sun turned the red-ochre track to fire. Colin wandered not up into the grandstand but out to the horse barns in back. Here was his turf, his familiar ground. Silence. No, not quite silence—the flies buzzed, the constant flies. The track sat vacant, between race days now, the race days themselves much farther apart now that Kalgoorlie no longer boomed. Colin thought about his adventures with Papa at Sydney’s racecourse, among its venerable barns. There is a grand excitement among the barns, the owners and trainers, that patrons and bettors will never know. Good times, those.
He left the peaceful, empty racing grounds and continued up into Hannan Street.
Half a block this side of the Exchange he saw a familiar form sitting on a bench beneath a streetlight. He crossed the street to say hello.
Lily smiled at him. “Good to see you.”
He plopped down on the bench beside her. “Good to see you. What are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for Dizzy. I’ll let him walk me home when he gets out of the Exchange over there.” She nodded toward the pub across the street.
“Why not come along in? I’m going there right now to have supper with him.”
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s not—” She took a deep breath and started over. “This last week has been brand new for me, Colin. I have a good job, and a nice room with a nice old lady in a comfortable little bungalow over on Dugan Street. All nice and comfortable, Colin, you see? That’s new for me. And I like it.”
“I see. And nice girls don’t go into the pubs?” He smiled. “You’re not the same girl who stole that side of wallaby a couple of months ago.”
“She’s a stranger.” The huge eyes turned to him full force. “You and Dizzy, you changed me. Helped me change, I mean. You were gentlemen. And you treated me like a real person. Dizzy says he won’t do things for me I ought to be doing for myself, and I’m starting to see how wise that is of him.” She brightened. “The landlady and Dizzy are both helping me learn to read and write better.”
“I’m really glad for you, Lily. I’m glad the ‘stranger’ is gone.”
“Dizzy says you sent your mare down below in the mine. He’s quite worried about that. Is she still there? I guess so; here you are, on foot.”
“Just for another week. We took ore to the mill today, so my uncles will have
The price of her ticket took all but two shillings. Very well, she would go without food. Undaunted she sat on the cold iron bench beside the equally cold iron posting box to wait. Rain began, misty and soft at first, then hard and pounding.
She suffered less than an hour’s wait for the train, and suffering it was. Did anyone ever sin as Hannah had just sinned? Because of the high incidence of strikes and riots downtown, especially on the waterfront, Hannah was forbidden to walk alone any farther than the school. Here she sat, blocks and blocks beyond where she was allowed to be.
But that was the least of her transgressions. The detention option was a lie, a device to keep Papa away from the school and give Hannah a few extra hours for her escape. She remained, today as yesterday, persona non grata to the abbess. She’d lied about the abbess, a woman ordained for God’s work. She’d lied to her own family and Papa in particular, dear Papa who loved her so. What an undeserving worm she was! No wonder God left her with two shillings for a week’s food! She didn’t merit that much.
By the time Samantha glanced at the hall clock, wondering when her errant daughter might return, Hannah had crossed the border from New South Wales into Victoria, the first leg of her long, long journey to Kalgoorlie.
C HAPTER T EN
P ERFIDY
On a whim, Colin turned aside from Lionel Street into MacDonald Street and followed it the few blocks to the racecourse. He slipped through the gate and walked out to the rail. Long gray shadows stretched out across churned dirt. A waning sun turned the red-ochre track to fire. Colin wandered not up into the grandstand but out to the horse barns in back. Here was his turf, his familiar ground. Silence. No, not quite silence—the flies buzzed, the constant flies. The track sat vacant, between race days now, the race days themselves much farther apart now that Kalgoorlie no longer boomed. Colin thought about his adventures with Papa at Sydney’s racecourse, among its venerable barns. There is a grand excitement among the barns, the owners and trainers, that patrons and bettors will never know. Good times, those.
He left the peaceful, empty racing grounds and continued up into Hannan Street.
Half a block this side of the Exchange he saw a familiar form sitting on a bench beneath a streetlight. He crossed the street to say hello.
Lily smiled at him. “Good to see you.”
He plopped down on the bench beside her. “Good to see you. What are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for Dizzy. I’ll let him walk me home when he gets out of the Exchange over there.” She nodded toward the pub across the street.
“Why not come along in? I’m going there right now to have supper with him.”
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s not—” She took a deep breath and started over. “This last week has been brand new for me, Colin. I have a good job, and a nice room with a nice old lady in a comfortable little bungalow over on Dugan Street. All nice and comfortable, Colin, you see? That’s new for me. And I like it.”
“I see. And nice girls don’t go into the pubs?” He smiled. “You’re not the same girl who stole that side of wallaby a couple of months ago.”
“She’s a stranger.” The huge eyes turned to him full force. “You and Dizzy, you changed me. Helped me change, I mean. You were gentlemen. And you treated me like a real person. Dizzy says he won’t do things for me I ought to be doing for myself, and I’m starting to see how wise that is of him.” She brightened. “The landlady and Dizzy are both helping me learn to read and write better.”
“I’m really glad for you, Lily. I’m glad the ‘stranger’ is gone.”
“Dizzy says you sent your mare down below in the mine. He’s quite worried about that. Is she still there? I guess so; here you are, on foot.”
“Just for another week. We took ore to the mill today, so my uncles will have
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