Free The Black Dress by Pamela Freeman Page B

her. Bridget came out carrying Lexie.
    Uncle Peter hesitated before turning to his horse.
    ‘I’m sorry, Flora—’
    Bridget spat at his feet.
    ‘A curse on ye, to throw these childer out on the streets, your own kin and all. A curse on ye till the day ye die. May ye never have child of your own, no grandchildren, no blood of your own from this day till the end of eternity! Be damned to ye, ye black-hearted leech!’
    Then she burst out into tears and buried her head in Lexie’s shoulder, rocking back and forth. Mamma sank down on the front step as Uncle Peter rode off, his back straight but his shoulders hunched as though to ward off a blow.
    ‘Bridget,’ Mamma said wearily. ‘That won’t do us any good. You’re upsetting the children.’
    Bridget hiccupped and wiped her eyes.
    ‘It’d try the patience of a saint, Missus, and I’m no saint.’
    ‘Nor am I.’ Mamma’s voice was gaining strength, and she stood up, clinging still to the verandah post. ‘Take the little ones inside.’
    Bridget swung Lexie over to her other hip and held out her hand to John. ‘Come on, then, little fellow, come have your bread and milk. Come, Annie. Come, Maggie, help me with Lexie.’ Maggie cast a glance backwards, but left me to talk to Mamma alone. I was cold again, right to my fingertips.
    ‘What’s happened?’
    Mamma bit her lip. ‘Uncle Peter is still going to foreclose.’
    ‘But you got the money!’
    Mamma stood up straight, suddenly angry. ‘Yes, yes, I did,’ Mamma said. ‘I humiliated myself in front of the Bullens, for nothing! Peter doesn’t even want the money. He wants the farm! He says it’s more convenient for Julia, nearer to her sister down Merri Creek. Oh, I know it’s her doing. Your papa may have borrowed the money, but he would never have thought that Peter would foreclose on us! It’s that Julia, she’s never cared for any one of us. Selfish, mean-spirited, greedy Irish cow—’
    Mamma stopped suddenly, her face flushing red. ‘Don’t listen to me, child. I should be ashamed to say such things about another Christian woman. No doubt Aunt Julia has her reasons. It’s true her sister has been ill. Perhaps she wants to be near her in case of need ... But I’m not leaving here unless I have somewhere safe to take you children. I will not move for the convenience of Julia Keogh.’
    Julia MacKillop, I almost said. But the fact that Aunt Julia was Irish instead of Scottish meant something to Mamma. I’d always known that, but didn’t understand it. It was Julia Keogh, the Irish name, which Mamma almost spat out. I thought that when Mamma calmed down she would change her mind. But she didn’t.
    ***
    Uncle Peter rode over several times during the next week. But he never stayed overnight, even if he had to ride during the dark to get home. There were clouds, that week, and no moon, which made for dangerous riding. Mamma never offered Uncle Peter a bed, not even in the men’s quarters. The weather was hot and unpleasant, and no rain fell. Bushfire weather, the farmhands said, and made the sign against bad luck.
    Every night we said the rosary to pray for rain. Every night we said the Memorare, ‘Remember O Most Blessed Virgin Mary...’ that Uncle Peter would change his mind and take the money for the farm.
    ‘Our Lady will stop him,’ Maggie said.
    Mamma shook her head. ‘Perhaps not, Maggie. If this trial is sent to us from the Lord, we may have to live through it. All prayers are answered, but sometimes the answer is “no”. We must accept that in a spirit of humility and ask for the grace to bear it.’
    ‘Why bother praying at all, then?’ Maggie said. ‘If it’s going to happen anyway?’
    ‘Because if it is not a trial sent from the Lord, if it is just the consequence of a mean and greedy heart, then the grace of Our Lord may soften that heart. Either way we won’t know until the prayer is answered.’
    Maggie did not look convinced, but she held her peace. I think that