As the Orient sailed into Adelaide port, Kitty bade farewell to a tearful Clara.
‘So, this is goodbye then. Been nice knowin’ ya, Kitty. Promise to write to me?’
The two girls hugged each other tightly.
‘Of course I will. Keep safe, Clara, and I hope all your dreams come true.’
As Kitty helped Mrs McCrombie down the gangplank, she felt on the verge of tears herself. Only now, at the point of disembarkation, did she realise how she would miss her shipboard friends.
‘Florence!’ Kitty watched as a slim, elegant woman with a head of rich mahogany hair waved and walked towards them.
‘Edith!’ The two sisters gave each other a restrained peck on both cheeks.
Kitty walked behind them as a liveried driver led them to a carriage. She glanced at Edith’s attire – a brocade dress buttoned up to her neck, not to mention the corset and bloomers that would lie beneath it – and wondered how she stood the heat. Kitty longed to plunge stark naked into the cool waters lapping at the dock.
When they reached the carriage, a young boy with the blackest skin Kitty had ever seen was heaving the trunks onto the rack at the back of it.
‘Goodness!’ Mrs McCrombie turned to her suddenly. ‘In my excitement at seeing you, dear sister, I have forgotten to introduce you to Miss Kitty McBride, the eldest daughter of one of our dear family friends, the Reverend McBride. She has been my helpmeet and saviour during the voyage,’ Mrs McCrombie added fondly, with a glance at Kitty.
‘Then I am pleased to make your acquaintance,’ replied Edith, sweeping a cool gaze over Kitty. ‘Welcome to Australia and I hope you will enjoy your stay with us here in Adelaide.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Mercer.’
As Kitty waited for the two sisters to climb into the carriage, she had the strongest feeling that Edith’s welcome was as hollow as it had sounded.
8
The dusty journey from the port through the stifling heat had begun with tin-roofed shacks near the docks, graduating to rows of bungalows and, finally, to a wide street lined with gracious houses.
Alicia Hall, named after Edith’s mother-in-law, was a grand white colonial mansion, sitting on Victoria Avenue. Built to withstand the heat of the day, the house was surrounded on all sides by cool, shady verandas and terraces fenced with delicate latticework. At sunset, a chorus of insects that Kitty could not yet name produced a cacophony of sound.
Since arriving three days ago, Mrs McCrombie – or Florence, as Edith called her – had spent her time either sleeping off the arduous voyage in her room, or sitting with Edith on the veranda and catching up with each other’s lives.
Currently, the three of them were the only residents in the Hall: Mr Stefan Mercer, Edith’s husband and the master of the house, was apparently away seeing to one of his many business interests, and the couple’s two sons were also absent. Apart from breakfast, lunch and dinner – when neither sister included her in conversation beyond an initial greeting and a ‘good day’ when she left – Kitty had kept to her airy pastel-painted room on the upper floor of the house.
So far, the solitude had been no hardship. Kitty had been content to take a book from the downstairs library and read it on the terrace that led from her bedroom. But as the days continued to drag on in the same routine and Christmas approached, Kitty’s thoughts turned to home. As she wrote a letter to her family, she could almost breathe in the freezing foggy air, and see in her mind’s eye the huge Christmas tree on Princes Street, festooned with tiny lights that bobbed and danced in the breeze.
‘I miss you all,’ she whispered as she folded the notepaper in two, her eyes wet with tears.
After breakfast, she normally took a perambulation around the vast and lush garden. It was laid out in sections, with clear paths cut into the grass, some of them shaded by frames filled with wisteria. Dark green topiary bushes were perfectly pruned, as were the herbaceous borders that contained bright specimens she had never seen before – fiery pink and orange flowers, glossy green leaves, honey-scented purple blooms into which large blue butterflies dipped to drink the sweet nectar.
The boundaries of the garden were lined by huge trees with unusual ghost-white bark. Whenever she drew close to them, she smelled a gorgeously fresh herbal scent wafting on the breeze, and promised herself she’d remember to ask Edith what they were.
Yet, however beautifully maintained, Kitty was beginning to feel as if Alicia Hall was a luxury prison. Never before in her life had she been so devoid of activity; an army of servants took care of the occupants’ every need and with Australia waiting for her behind the garden walls and little to keep her busy, time began to hang heavy upon her.
As Christmas grew nearer, Kitty was walking back from the garden after her morning stroll when she saw a man appearing through the back gates. She stopped in her tracks, taking in the red dust that covered his shock of indeterminate-coloured hair, his filthy clothes and boots. Her first instinct was to dash inside and tell the servants there was an itinerant lurking on the property.
She slid behind a pillar on the veranda and watched him surreptitiously from behind it as he moved towards the servants’ entrance.
‘G’day,’ he called out, and Kitty wondered how he could see her as she was extremely well hidden. ‘I can see your shadow, whoever you are. Why are you hiding?’
She knew that the man could easily grab her as she ran across the veranda to safety, but reminded herself that she’d been in far worse situations with drunken Scotsmen on the docks. So she took a deep breath and revealed herself.
‘I wasn’t hiding. I was merely sheltering from the sun.’
‘It’s pretty strong this time of year, but nothing compared to the heat up in the north.’
‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve only just arrived.’
‘Have you indeed? From where?’
‘Scotland. Do you have business at this house?’ she demanded.
He appeared amused at the question. ‘Well, I hope I do, yes.’
‘Then I will tell Mrs Mercer that she has a visitor when she returns.’
‘Mrs Mercer isn’t at home at present?’
‘I am assured that she will return soon,’ Kitty replied, realising her mistake. ‘But there are many servants in the house.’
‘Then I shall go and speak with them about my business,’ he stated, striding towards the rear entrance that led to the kitchen. ‘Good day to you.’
After hurrying inside and climbing the stairs up to her room, then walking out onto her terrace, she saw a horse and cart clopping out of the back gates a few minutes later. Relieved that the servants must have seen him off, she collapsed onto her bed, fanning herself violently.