Cold Blows the Wind by Catherine Meyrick

Author:Catherine Meyrick
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Australian historical fiction, Australian biographical fiction, Womens fiction, Historical fiction 19th century, 19th century Australia
Publisher: Courante Publishing
Published: 2022-04-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 37

March 1881

Ellen rubbed the shirt against the washing board, took a deep breath and rubbed again, more gently this time. The last thing she needed was to wear holes in shirts that were worth more than she could earn in a fortnight. She stopped and stretched, her hands in the arch of her back. She needed a job she could do through the winter. Mrs Bryce, for all Ellen had complained about her in the past, had been surprisingly kind. She had said she couldn’t take Ellen back as a laundress—she had replaced Ellen when she left. Her eyes had travelled to Ellen’s waist. She said that she had never employed anyone who was as good as Ellen in her care of delicate articles and asked if Ellen would be interested in doing her table napkins, lace-trimmed handkerchiefs and the odd item needing special care? Ellen had agreed willingly, though Mrs Bryce had not been overly generous in what she paid. Her parents had lent her the money to buy a couple of decent flat irons. She needed to be sure her work was perfect for Mrs Bryce. She had placed a small advertisement in the Mercury and two young men had answered it, and now she collected their shirts and undergarments once a week to wash and iron. But this would last only as long as the weather was fine and she could hang washing on the line in the backyard.

Harry had said he would come and get her once his wife had left. And she had believed him. She had wanted him to think, if only for a few minutes, that there was a chance she wouldn’t go back, make him realise what he had done to her, but she would have packed her things as soon as he appeared on the doorstep. It had been over a month, and she hadn’t set eyes on him. Grannie and Grandad were back home, and the wife was there with them.

Ellen stopped her scrubbing and went to the copper. She jabbed at the washing with the pot stick, moving it about.

So much for all his talk of loving her, not being able to live without her, never leaving her. He’d probably argue Ellen had left him. But what would have happened if she had refused to leave? Would the wife have walked away? She pressed her lips tight together. Harry wasn’t hers to fight for.

She bent and pushed a couple of pieces of split wood into the firebox beneath the copper.

‘Ellen.’

She straightened up.

Alice stood in the doorway of the washhouse, Jennie on her hip, Billy hiding in her skirts. She was the image of the little mother.

Please, Ellen wished, don’t let her ever be as stupid as I have been.

‘You have a visitor.’

Ellen pushed back a stray hair that had fallen across her face and went to the door. Alice and the children moved back towards the house.

Harry stood beside the door, turning his hat in his hands. He was wearing the red kerchief around his neck that she had made him the Christmas before last.

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