A HAZARD OF HEARTS (27 page)

‘If not elephants, perhaps kangaroos and emus?’

She swivelled towards the door and saw Paul
Gascoigne’s tall frame draped against the jamb. Something in her leapt at the
sight, which promptly made her stiffen and eye him with cool enquiry.

‘I thought they might be more enticing than just
Pepper and me,’ he explained. ‘As an inducement to an outing, that is.’

‘I don’t go on –’

‘Ah, but it’s Christmastide, or almost. Everyone
goes on outings then. It’s a commandment.’

Elly relaxed into a smile and beckoned him in. ‘Whose
commandment?’

‘Mine. I just brought it down as number eleven.’

‘Don’t be sacrilegious.’

‘Madame! Nothing could be further from my mind. Anyway,
if it isn’t a commandment it ought to be. We should be made to celebrate the
birth of the Christ Child. It’s a joyous occasion, whatever else we believe.’

This was a new Paul, thought Elly, a
lighter-hearted man intent on cajoling her with the same methods used by J.G.

He seemed to catch her thought. ‘Don’t dare tell
me I sound like J.G. He’s already swollen-headed over his success with the
ladies, even daring to offer me lessons.’

‘I don’t think you need any.’ Elly indicated the
chair opposite her desk. ‘But if you wish to prick the bladder of J.G’s
self-importance, just mention a certain lady named Pearl.’

Paul laughed as he carefully lowered himself
into the chair.

‘Have you hurt yourself, Mr Gascoigne?’

‘A bruise from a badly-aimed brick. It’s little enough.
Can’t you bring yourself to use my Christian name after all we’ve been to each
other, camp-fire friends, co-travellers, companions in celebration?’

She said slowly, ‘I suppose I may. Paul, then. At
least in private.’ Her expression was as mischievous as J.G’s. ‘My name is
Eleanor.’

‘What a strict, corseted name. Lovely for introductions
to the Governor, yet hardly to be used by a friend. I shall call you Nell.’

‘You dare!’

‘I won’t, of course, Elly. Now, to celebrate our
new mutual status, friend, will you accompany me on an outing to see the
elephants?’

Elly stared. ‘You really mean it? Where?’

‘Botany Bay. Have you never heard of the Sir
Joseph Banks Hotel’s Annual Boxing Day Gala? It includes a circus, menagerie,
dancing and dining and a walk along the beach to follow.’

Despite her resolution, longing overwhelmed her
at the thought of such festivity. How wonderful to get away from the eternal
tensions under this roof, just for a day. And elephants! She had a momentary
vision of a set of scales, with the hospital balanced on one side and a heap of
ponderous grey pachyderms on the other, tipping the scale downward.

With the air of playing a trump card, Paul
added, ‘Of course one travels by sea, down the coast on the most magnificent
steamer in Port Jackson. It even has a bar and quadrille band for entertainment
aboard, to while away the tedium of the voyage.’

Tedium! Elly thought of the sea-wind blowing in
her hair, of music, laughter and companionship, and she succumbed.

‘Thank you. I’d love to come, as you must well
realise. I’ll arrange with the others for my time away to be covered. Praise
Heaven Pearl doesn’t leave until mid-January.’

Paul showed no elation. However there was a hint
of self-satisfaction there, enough to cause her a few qualms. Had she given way
too easily? Was this a mistake? Her doubt turned to annoyance. But she’d
accepted the invitation; she’d go and she would enjoy herself. To compensate for
her inner turmoil, she abandoned her intended enquiry into the incident of the
brick. It might be childish of her, but if Paul wanted to play at political
Pattacake with opponents who reinforced their arguments with violence, it could
remain his own affair.

~*~

Christmas Day passed swiftly in the usual
duties combined with snatched attendance at Divine Service as and when staff
could be spared. Fortunately, there were no new admissions to the women’s wards
and by the following morning Elly knew that she could leave her nurses with a
clear conscience.

Pearl and Jo-Beth saw her off joyfully, assuring
her of their ability to handle all conceivable problems. An hour later Paul led
her up the gangplank of the
Sir John Harvey
with an admiring glance at
her striped blue and white cotton gown and her frilled parasol adjusted to
shade the new straw bonnet.

‘Have you just stepped out of a bandbox, Elly? How
do you manage to appear so fresh?’

Delighted with her appearance, and the promise
of the day, she sparkled back at him like a girl just out of school.

‘It’s a trick no lady will reveal,’ she confided
as she stepped down onto the deck. ‘Oh, how I’ve dreamed of this trip. I haven’t
been on the water since our excursion down from Port Stephens, when I behaved
so rudely to you.’

‘We’ve agreed to forget our differences. Come up
to the bows for the best view of our progress down the harbour. If you’re
extremely well behaved I might even buy you a beer.’

For Elly, the trip was all she had hoped for,
enveloped in a halcyon blue and gold aura of sunlight, fresh air and freedom. As
they passed between the sandstone cliffs, emerging into the ocean and turning
south, her cares fell away. She took off her bonnet to feel the breeze,
confident that the false coiled plaits she wore pinned over her ears covered
the tips of her hair and hid its true length.

Strolling about the deck on Paul’s arm, she
exchanged greetings with fellow passengers all dressed for festivity. They were
a living pattern of Sydney Town: tradesmen and their wives; apprentices and butcher’s
boys; milliners and maids; clerks, booksellers, waiters, teachers and even the poulterer
who supplied the hospital’s needs. Elly bowed sedately when they met and passed
on, her eyes twinkling as she confided to Paul that she scarcely recognised Mr Scrubshaw
without his apron.

Paul whispered how he’d already exchanged
greetings with his wine merchant. ‘And over there, the exceedingly well-turned
out gentleman with the flower in his lapel, he’s Hanslow the director of our
fashionable funeral obsequies.’

Elly cast a critical eye on the lady
accompanying Mr Hanslow, deciding she could not be his wife. In fact, several
of the ladies aboard had the sort of dashing air about them seldom seen in
consorts.

As before, Paul caught her thought. ‘It’s mixed company.
I thought you’d rather enjoy it. The stuffier carriage folk will be at the
Gala, but they’ll go by road, through the heat and dust.’

‘You’re quite right,’ Elly agreed. ‘I wouldn’t
have missed the boat-trip for any money. I couldn’t have thrown off my bonnet
and kicked up my heels and drunk a beer with the ‘carriage folk’ on the watch. Oh,
I’m as carefree as one of those gulls.’ She pirouetted lightly, pointing to the
cluster of birds wheeling overhead. ‘Thank you for bringing me, Paul.’

‘The gratitude is all on my side. Christmas is a
lonely time for me.’ Elly’s attention was caught by a note of more than ordinary
sadness behind the words. Remembering Paul’s revelations on the hospital steps
not long ago, she snapped open her parasol and leaned back on the ship’s rail, choosing
her response with care.

‘It can be lonely with no-one to share our
celebrations. Have you no-one left at all, Paul?’

His profile revealed little, although his hands clutched
the rail as if he’d embed them there. ‘No-one. Oh, there is a remote cousin
with a wife and child living up near Maitland on the Hunter River. I have no
contact with them. They migrated in ‘48 then moved on immediately to seek employment
on the land. They came originally from Calais, so I never knew them back in
Yorkshire.’

‘I don’t have family, either. But I have
friends, and some happy memories.’

Paul’s grip on the rail tightened until his
hands were bloodless. ‘Memories!’ The word might have been an oath.

‘You’re angry. I’m sorry.’

‘Injustice unearths many emotions.’ He clipped the
words off.

‘From what you once told me, I’d say you have
every right to your anger.’ She laid her hand briefly on his, adding, ‘But
please don’t let your tragic loss distort your life. Buried anger twists
people. It’s terribly damaging.’

He tore his gaze away from the sea and stood
back from the rail, his smile fixed. ‘I refuse to be angry today. Today is for
sunshine and laughter. Come, the bar is open. Let’s get a drink.’

For a few hours Elly completely forgot her
responsibilities, stepping onto the sandy shores of Botany Bay ready to fling
herself into whatever offered. As effervescent as a child, she clapped wildly
at the circus performances, commiserated with the caged animals in the
menagerie, then forgot their plight in the excitement of seeing a gentleman well
in his cups mount one of the elephants and take it for a bathe in the sea. She
dined on crab and drank champagne, and whirled around the great dance floor in
Paul’s arms, the strings of coloured lamps, lit even in daylight, swinging dizzily
around her, her feet trapped in the rhythm of the band playing on and on.

Late in the day, sated and light-headed from the
music and dancing, Elly allowed herself to be led down through the groves of
trees towards the beach, a wide curving horseshoe dwindling away south into
sand hills already topped with sea mist. To the west the blue mountain range
had darkened against a sky streaked in gold as brilliant as any to be dug from
the soil and riverbeds. Elly walked right down to the edge of the shallow surf
creaming in from the bay and raised her arms, letting the air lift and press
her skirts against her body, rippling her hair, cooling her hot cheeks. Forgetful
of time and place, aware only of a sense of repletion, she let herself drift.

The next moment she was in Paul’s arms being
thoroughly kissed. Astonishment held her motionless, and the sudden jet of fire
throughout her body, stunning her with its force. Afterwards she thought of it
as a lightning strike, flashing along each nerve until her whole being vibrated
with an extraordinary joy. Her mouth opened under Paul’s, its firmness and
warmth such a delight that his intrusive tongue was made welcome. Elly shivered
and clutched at his shoulders, giving herself over to her first collision with passion.

Paul raised his head, keeping a firm hold on her
waist. She saw his confusion, echoing her own.

‘Elly... I didn’t know this would happen. Elly,
what have you done to me?’

Her senses swimming, she couldn’t have answered
him, even if she’d had any answer to give. She only knew that the pressure of
his breast on hers, of his hand slipping down her back to hold her more firmly
against his body, was necessary and right and vital to her happiness,
increasing her longing to recapture the delirium his lips could create.

 Never in her wildest imagination had she
believed she would enjoy such an assault. Gazing into his green eyes, she saw golden
flecks dancing there, growing larger, filling her vision as he claimed her
mouth again. His fingers travelled down her spine, loosening buttons as they
went, and her gown slipped, exposing her shoulders scorched by his caresses. Her
hands were in his hair, letting the dark silky strands slip through her fingers
in an intimacy both thrilling and frightening. She pressed his face to her breasts
and heard him groan. Her hips arched against his, feeling the rigidity of his
erection through the layers of petticoat.

She cried out, and his arms relaxed, then tightened
again.

With a gasp he said, ‘Forgive me, Elly.’

She rested her head on his chest, the
extraordinary excitement ebbing slowly, leaving her limp. She felt as though
she’d passed through a violent storm, weakening her to the point where she
could no longer support her own weight. Still held fast in Paul’s trembling
grasp she tried to calm herself, feeling his heartbeat racing under her cheek
and knowing that he, too, had passed through the same cataclysm.

Resting his cheek on her hair, he whispered, ‘I’ve
never known such an upheaval in my life. What kind of force lies in you Elly,
that you can tear a man’s control to shreds in one second and draw him
irresistibly down into such a volcano – such un-dreamed of passion?’ His voice broke
on the words.

She looked up shyly. ‘Is it like that for you? I
never knew. No-one ever told me...’

Paul released his hold and drew back, but when
she staggered he held her up and led her to a nearby rock. ‘Sit down Elly and I’ll
button your gown. Don’t say any more just yet.’

Elly sat down. Her legs quivered and her breasts
ached, sensitive even to the brush of fabric as Paul adjusted her gown. A
sudden pain thrust deep in her loins, and she shivered. She wondered if she had
started a fever. Then she turned her head and saw Paul’s strained expression, saw
the hunger repressed, and knew she was indeed suffering from a fever in the
blood which could only be assuaged in this man’s embrace.

‘For God’s sake, Elly, don’t look at me like that.
Don’t hold your mouth as if waiting to be kissed.’ Paul abandoned the last
button and turned his back on Elly to walk the few yards down to the water’s
edge.