bastard have had?” Straight backed, she continued on to her room.
“Why you hateful, mean-faced witch!” Meg yelled and rushed forward.
“No, Meg.” Nicola barely managed to hold Meg still, for her spit-fire friend was intent on scratching Miss Burstall’s eyes out and she was half tempted to let her.
Later, with the sun descending behind distant ranges, Nicola lit the lamps and drew the curtains, shutting the world out. The women had eaten a light supper and then retired to their rooms, leaving her and Mr Belfroy alone. She had ordered the fire to be lit, its cheery blaze comforting.
“No matter how hard I try, it still happens…” Mr Belfroy murmured, staring into the golden flames.
“What happens?” Nicola sighed, flexing her aching shoulders.
“They still die. Good young women still fill the churchyard no matter what I do.”
“Oh, Mr Belfroy, you mustn’t blame yourself. You cannot save them all. You do so much as it is.”
“Not enough, Miss Douglas. Not enough.”
“Nonsense. I won’t let you torment yourself with things over which you have no control. What occurred to Emily was tragic indeed, but I feel she was beyond saving. Her mind and soul had long been troubled by the events happening to her. She saw no future for herself because of the child. Can any of us be surprised by what she did? To her, in her mind, her life was already over. All she had to do was physically escape.”
“But it is the tragedy of her downfall that we must prevent, Miss Douglas. We must find these women, these good intelligent women, decent situations with the remuneration they deserve so they can live a life without hardship and degradation when they are out of work.”
“You cannot mend the entire population of unemployed women, Mr Belfroy. It is impossible.”
He jerked to his feet, his eyes damp. “I must try, Miss Douglas. I cannot sit by idle.”
Nicola stood and placed her hand gently on his arm. “Mr Belfroy, you, of all men, are the least idle. You know what good work you do here.”
He looked her directly in the eyes. “It is not enough, my dear, and never will be.”
The following day, Nicola sat at her desk supposedly working, but she couldn’t focus. Instead, she spent half an hour staring out the little window, which overlooked the neighbour’s back garden. With a sigh, she put away her pen and wiped her tired eyes. Misery weighed on the house’s occupants like a heavy chest cold.
Restless, she stepped to the door. Perhaps a swift walk would lift the mood. From the kitchen came the crashing sound of crockery being dropped and Cook’s cursing at Hannah. Sighing, Nicola quickly donned her shawl and hat and slipped from the house before someone spotted her.
A slight breeze swayed the topmost tree branches. The bright sunshine made Nicola close her eyes and raise her face up to it. Spring flowers of daffodils, snowdrops and bluebells reminiscent of English gardens had burst into bloom in the small gardens she passed. She wished the lodging house had a good garden of its own, instead of the square patch of lawn and the one large tree in the middle. In fact, she wished the lodgings had more space entirely, both inside and out.
At the end of the street she turned left and not right as usual. The noise of the harbour and docks didn’t appeal today, but a quiet walk around the suburban streets of Double Bay suited her more. The houses in this area were well cared for, with large lawns and sweeping verandahs.
She’d walked for nearly ten minutes, admiring the blossom on fruit trees that offered up their scents from behind wooden fences, when she paused in front of one large two-story brick house set back from the road and with extensive lawns. On the gate a sign read “For Sale”.
“For sale,” she whispered, her mind whirling with ideas. The house was well positioned on the high side of the road and the top floor would likely have a view of the harbour. Edging the lawns were tall
“Why you hateful, mean-faced witch!” Meg yelled and rushed forward.
“No, Meg.” Nicola barely managed to hold Meg still, for her spit-fire friend was intent on scratching Miss Burstall’s eyes out and she was half tempted to let her.
Later, with the sun descending behind distant ranges, Nicola lit the lamps and drew the curtains, shutting the world out. The women had eaten a light supper and then retired to their rooms, leaving her and Mr Belfroy alone. She had ordered the fire to be lit, its cheery blaze comforting.
“No matter how hard I try, it still happens…” Mr Belfroy murmured, staring into the golden flames.
“What happens?” Nicola sighed, flexing her aching shoulders.
“They still die. Good young women still fill the churchyard no matter what I do.”
“Oh, Mr Belfroy, you mustn’t blame yourself. You cannot save them all. You do so much as it is.”
“Not enough, Miss Douglas. Not enough.”
“Nonsense. I won’t let you torment yourself with things over which you have no control. What occurred to Emily was tragic indeed, but I feel she was beyond saving. Her mind and soul had long been troubled by the events happening to her. She saw no future for herself because of the child. Can any of us be surprised by what she did? To her, in her mind, her life was already over. All she had to do was physically escape.”
“But it is the tragedy of her downfall that we must prevent, Miss Douglas. We must find these women, these good intelligent women, decent situations with the remuneration they deserve so they can live a life without hardship and degradation when they are out of work.”
“You cannot mend the entire population of unemployed women, Mr Belfroy. It is impossible.”
He jerked to his feet, his eyes damp. “I must try, Miss Douglas. I cannot sit by idle.”
Nicola stood and placed her hand gently on his arm. “Mr Belfroy, you, of all men, are the least idle. You know what good work you do here.”
He looked her directly in the eyes. “It is not enough, my dear, and never will be.”
The following day, Nicola sat at her desk supposedly working, but she couldn’t focus. Instead, she spent half an hour staring out the little window, which overlooked the neighbour’s back garden. With a sigh, she put away her pen and wiped her tired eyes. Misery weighed on the house’s occupants like a heavy chest cold.
Restless, she stepped to the door. Perhaps a swift walk would lift the mood. From the kitchen came the crashing sound of crockery being dropped and Cook’s cursing at Hannah. Sighing, Nicola quickly donned her shawl and hat and slipped from the house before someone spotted her.
A slight breeze swayed the topmost tree branches. The bright sunshine made Nicola close her eyes and raise her face up to it. Spring flowers of daffodils, snowdrops and bluebells reminiscent of English gardens had burst into bloom in the small gardens she passed. She wished the lodging house had a good garden of its own, instead of the square patch of lawn and the one large tree in the middle. In fact, she wished the lodgings had more space entirely, both inside and out.
At the end of the street she turned left and not right as usual. The noise of the harbour and docks didn’t appeal today, but a quiet walk around the suburban streets of Double Bay suited her more. The houses in this area were well cared for, with large lawns and sweeping verandahs.
She’d walked for nearly ten minutes, admiring the blossom on fruit trees that offered up their scents from behind wooden fences, when she paused in front of one large two-story brick house set back from the road and with extensive lawns. On the gate a sign read “For Sale”.
“For sale,” she whispered, her mind whirling with ideas. The house was well positioned on the high side of the road and the top floor would likely have a view of the harbour. Edging the lawns were tall
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