"That's not quite what I meant, Lieutenant.” Pollard smiled inside. “What did she get transported for? What did she do in England, as a trade?"
"She supposedly stole and sold a horse, sir."
"Supposedly?"
"The horse belonged to the son of the family to whom she was in service. The son had wanted to take advantage of her and when she had continually refused he concocted the story about the horse. I think he had hoped that she would ask him to withdraw the charges, in exchange for ... for servicing his desires. But she refused. "
"In service, you say?"
"Yes, sir."
"I have a friend. He was in the army once, but left to go into business here. He is old, but a very well-to-do merchant and he married only a year ago." Pollard looked at the young Lieutenant. "A very young woman. Almost a girl. He's almost old enough to be her grandfather. A very attractive woman. He travels extensively, both within the colony and to and from Sydney. He has mentioned the need to hire someone who could act as both a servant for his wife and something of a companion. Perhaps ..."
"Do you think it possible, sir?"
"I do. But I would have to meet this woman of yours. I would have to be happy in myself to be recommending her." The Major stopped and looked at Abbotsley. "Don't be offended, Abbotsley. I know nothing of this woman, other than that which you have just told me. Regardless of the circumstances, she is a convict. She was convicted of a crime and I would not like to recommend to a friend someone whom I do not know or who I would not be happy to have in my own employ. What do you say?"
"That could be the answer, sir."
"And the meeting?"
"If you could arrange it, sir … perhaps tomorrow?"
"Fine. She would be provided with board only, of course, being a convict woman. But she would come under the protection of Mr Tate. That would give you some peace of mind, I think."
"It would, sir, yes."
"Good. I shall speak with Mr Tate tonight. And with his wife, Beth. Elizabeth is her name. She will have to be happy with the arrangement, of course, if the woman is to be a companion for her."
"I understand, sir."
"Good. In the meantime, my corporal will organise some accommodation for you. You are due to sail with the next supply vessel in seven days time. Let's hope we can resolve this problem by then. Go now. Organise your gear and see your woman."
"Yes, sir. And thank you."
"Which one?" she asked.
"That one. In the middle." And he pointed across the water to the three-masted vessel. "It's called the Gemma. I think that David Hoy built her."
"Who is David Hoy?" she asked.
"He is the ship builder at Macquarie Harbour."
"It's a long way away," she said, turning to face him.
"Yes," he admitted. "But it will not be for long."
Sarah Grey looked at the Lieutenant and smiled bravely. He returned her smile and laid his hands on her shoulders. She looked more beautiful than he could remember. Her long black hair had a deep sheen to it and as it shifted in the slight breeze that came off the water of the harbour it seemed to sparkle. Her face was fresh and clear and the smooth tanned skin made her hazel eyes seem larger.
They had bought her the new dress and shoes the same day he had returned to her with Pollard's news. She had been most disappointed with the news of his posting and the fact that the Major had recommended against her going with him. The lieutenant had been bright and cheerful and had convinced her of the benefits of securing a position here. It would be better than finding herself in the Factory and being assigned to work for anyone. This way she would have the opportunity of securing a good position.
The meeting with Pollard and Pollard's wife had gone well and the following day Pollard had approached his friend, Mr Tate, with the proposal. They had met with Mr Tate and his young wife the day after that and they had both been very apprehensive. Mr Tate had asked them both a lot of questions and the young Mrs. Tate had taken Sarah's hand and they had walked away together, with Mrs. Tate asking her questions still. Abbotsley had stayed with Mr Tate and Pollard, trying to keep the conversation going, but worrying all the time about Sarah.
Having met Mr and Mrs. Tate he was keen to make sure that Sarah would be acceptable. They seemed like a good couple and Mr Tate was kind and spoke gently. His wife, as Pollard had mentioned, was stunningly beautiful, with long russet hair and flashing brown eyes. He could go to this desolate place they called Macquarie Harbour and feel safe leaving Sarah in their hands.
And if they found that she was unacceptable, they ran the risk of not knowing where Sarah would end up. The thought of another man ....
But all had gone well. Mrs. Tate had returned from her walk with Sarah and she had flashed a smile at her elderly husband and nodded wisely. Mr Tate had looked at his wife and then at Sarah and had agreed.
And now she stood before him, at the edge of the harbour, looking at the boat that was to take him away tomorrow. At her feet was a small case. She was to start work with the Tate's this morning, because they were leaving for Launceston after lunch.
Sarah looked at her Lieutenant and picked up the case.
"We must go," she said.
He took the case from her and she threaded her arm through his and they walked in silence, away from the harbour and around the southern edge of the Town towards the Tates' house.
They stopped just short of the house and he took her in his arms and kissed her long and hard.
"You won't be long, will you?" she asked.
"No," he promised. "I'll write to you and tell you of all the things I am doing. And you must write back to me and tell me the same things."
"And how much I'll miss you."
"Yes. Tell me that, too. We must do this. It will help the time go faster. And I can come back to you. And here ... I bought this for you.”
"What is it?”
“A diary. You should keep a daily account of your time here. Mrs Tate said she would help you to read and write better, didn’t she?”
“She did.” Tears started in her eyes and he touched her cheeks gently, wiping them away.
They walked and stopped at the gate to the house.
"It's a grand place," he said.
Sarah nodded.
As they stood holding hands, looking at the front of the house, the door opened and Mrs. Tate came out onto the porch.
"Hello, Lieutenant Abbotsley," she called. "Sarah."
Abbotsley nodded politely.
"Go now," he said simply. "Go."
She wrapped her arms around him and they kissed again and then she pulled away, scooped up her case and ran up the pathway to the house. He watched her, her black hair streaming behind her, and as she reached the short flight of steps he turned away and walked briskly back to the harbour. He did not want to have one last vision of her as she looked at him with pain on her face and tears running from her eyes. He would take with him the picture of her long black hair flowing out behind her. And of her soft pink supple body of the night before.
There were black clouds gathering as he reached the harbour and he stood and looked at the ship that was to take him away. A cold southerly wind whipped some spray into his face and he shivered.
Cold.
Hot. Bloody hot, she thought.
Nora Christie looked out of the window and the sky was clear, a brilliant blue. A hot Hobart day.
Sweat ran down between