The Soldier's Curse by Meg Keneally Page A

everything from convict drunkenness to gambling amongst the ranks (he had his eye on Slattery and others). Ainslie’s sermonising leaked out around the edges of the inexpertly fitted door, giving Monsarrat a free but unintended insight into Ainslie’s views on a range of moral perils. The majorwas unfailingly polite and patient, thanking him for his concern and showing him out, sometimes unable to resist a raised eyebrow in Monsarrat’s direction on the way back in.
    In public, the major and his wife treated the Reverend with the greatest respect – or had until the Female Factory closed. Anticipating objections about increased opportunities for loose behaviour, the major had invited the Reverend to his office and laid out his plans and the reasons for them – the expense of keeping just three women in such a large building; the alternative uses it could be put to; and Dr Gonville’s concerns about the health of the women detained there. The Reverend had nodded thoughtfully, and informed Major Shelborne that he intended to visit Sydney in the near future to attend to some personal matters.
    Those matters, it turned out, included a visit to the Colonial Secretary with tales of women prisoners at large in the settlement, roaming amongst the male population in a most disgraceful manner.
    Monsarrat knew the major had already written to Sydney about his intentions for the Factory – he’d transcribed the letter himself. When the Colonial Secretary responded with the concerns Ainslie had brought to him, Shelborne asked Monsarrat to read the letter aloud. He was undeniably angry, but controlled. Until Monsarrat read one of the closing paragraphs.
    The Reverend has expressed a concern that you have been unduly influenced in this matter by your wife, who has commendably taken an interest in the welfare of the females, but perhaps lacks the necessary appreciation for the moral dangers these women may face abroad in the settlement, being no doubt innocent of such matters herself.
    At this, the major’s control temporarily slipped. He grabbed the letter from Monsarrat’s hands and read it for himself.
    â€˜That sanctimonious bastard,’ he said. ‘I hope he stays in Sydney – we’re well shot of him. Monsarrat, draft a reply to theColonial Secretary reiterating my reasons for closing the Factory. Don’t address that ridiculous reference to Honora. Then I want you to draft another letter, to Ainslie. Use your best hand, please, and as many pleasantries as you can muster without making yourself sick. Tell him that I hope he is enjoying his time in Sydney, and that in his absence we have reintroduced the practice of reading prayers in the schoolhouse – yes, yes, I know, but I will, this very week. We shall revert to the situation in place before his arrival, whereby I conduct any necessary marriages, funerals and so forth. This in hand, he should feel no immediate pressure to return, but should take all the time that he needs to conclude his affairs in Sydney. Please make sure to add Mrs Shelborne’s regards.’
    So for the present, Hanley was God’s only representative in Port Macquarie, standing and gripping Slattery’s arm in commiseration.
    Slattery shrugged off Hanley’s grasp. ‘As you say, Father, very sad. Young he was, too. Did you get to him in time?’
    â€˜Yes, barely. I was able to absolve him. He died in a state of grace – assuming no unclean thoughts traversed his mind in the minute or two between amen and his final breath.’
    â€˜He has no further need of you, so,’ said Slattery. ‘Very good, you lot, at opening the door to the next world. Only God can say how good a job you’re doing there. But I have my own thoughts on the job you’re doing here. You should be making sure the door doesn’t open too soon, and that passing through it isn’t the only hope.’
    â€˜Ah, Fergal. I do what I