Free Matilda's Freedom by Tea Cooper Page A

pointed to a row of hats hanging on nails.
    ‘Take your pick. Mrs Barclay will be thrilled to know the girls are keeping the sun off their faces,’ Jimmy said with a wink.
    Matilda clamped a broad-brimmed felt hat down hard on her head and picked out two cabbage palm hats for the two girls. Then she wandered out to the small yard, where their horses were grazing under the shade of the trees.
    Beth was already there. As she mounted, Matilda passed her up a hat. ‘Put this on; otherwise, you’ll end up with a nose the colour of one of Bonnie’s strawberries.’
    Beth rammed it down on her head and looked up from under the brim at Matilda. ‘How do I look?’
    ‘Very practical.’
    ‘Good,’ Beth mumbled and fidgeted in the saddle. ‘I wish Hannah would hurry up.’
    ‘She’s coming now.’
    Hannah was almost running down the path to the stables, throwing in a few, high-spirited skips along the way. In the few weeks since Matilda’s arrival, she’d turned from a pale, indeterminate sop into someone completely different. Matilda realised that change was nowhere more evident than in the clothes she’d chosen to wear. Dressed in her riding clothes—a pair of blue breeches and a white shirt Bonnie had found for her amongst Kit’s childhood possessions—she was animated and fun. But once back in her lawn dress—all ribbons, bows and petticoats—she immediately reverted to a childlike replica of her mother.
    Matilda handed her the hat. ‘Put this on. We don’t want you getting burned and it is very hot this afternoon.’
    Hannah turned the hat in her hand and looked dubiously at the inside. ‘Whose is it?’
    ‘I borrowed it from the stable along with the others.’
    ‘Oh, I don’t know. Mother would—’
    ‘It’s very practical,’ piped up Beth. ‘Your nose will look like one of Bonnie’s strawberries if you don’t wear it.’
    Matilda stifled a laugh. If imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, she had just been paid a huge compliment.
    Hannah clamped the hat on her head and pulled a face. ‘It smells.’
    ‘Only of horses. Come on, let’s go. I’m tired of waiting.’ Beth wheeled her pony around with a skill that belied her experience and raced ahead. Matilda waited for Hannah to mount and then followed her down the track to the open paddock.
    Once clear of the trees, both girls flew across the paddock. They wouldn’t have won any prizes in a competition, but at least now they were enjoying themselves and were not restricted to the immediate area around the house. Bonnie reckoned there had been a huge increase in their appetites, and that their skin was clearer.
    Matilda could see that their eyes now had a sparkle almost rivalling their brother’s attentive gaze. If nothing else, she had taught them the delights of fresh air and exercise.
    As they neared the creek, the trees increased in number, and they were soon at the edge of the water. Beth slid down the bank and stood there, kicking the shallow water with the toes of her boots, while Hannah stared hesitantly about as though she wasn’t really sure what she should do next. Matilda’s heart went out to them. How many simple pleasures had they forfeited in their short lives?
    She tethered the horses, and then sat down and removed her riding boots. The raucous call of a kookaburra broke the awed silence. It seemed to be mocking her compassionate thoughts. Beth and Hannah had led a more privileged life than she, but no matter how much that jackass bird laughed at her, she couldn’t help but appreciate the freedoms she’d enjoyed.
    ‘Beth! Don’t you dare take your boots off.’
    Matilda swung around, expecting to see Mrs Barclay standing on the edge of the bank. Her error became obvious as she saw Hannah’s white face and the horrified stare she was directing at her sister. Beth was struggling to remove her boots.
    ‘There might be snakes or spiders,’ Hannah said, shuddering, ‘or any manner of dangerous creatures. Or worse,’