Free Island of escape by Dorothy Cork

perched herself on the edge of the big table and asked Ellis, 'How long are you going to stay?'
    `If you mean will I still be here when shearing's on,' Ellis said after a minute, 'I shall stay if—if I can help.' It seemed to her a diplomatic way to answer the question, because she would stay if she were here to work, and not as a guest, and she was determined to win her battle over that point. She might not like Steve Gascoyne, she certainly couldn't understand him, but she would work for him, and this was certainly a beautiful kitchen. There was a gas stove as well as a slow combustion one, a big fridge and a freezer, copious cupboards; and this massive table. There was even a dishwasher, she noticed.
    Leanne digested her answer in silence, then offered her cigarettes and as she lit one for herself asked innocently, 'Have you known Steve long?'
    `No, not very long.' She added, because Leanne expected her to say something, 'We met at the hotel in Hobart, as a matter of fact. I was—looking for a job and—' She stopped.
    `And he asked you to come to Warrianda,' Leanne said with a knowing little smile. 'Well, Flinders Island
     
    is different from most places. It puts a lot of girls off.' Off what? Ellis wondered. Off marrying Steve? But she didn't need to be put off.
    Leanne slid off the table and wandered aimlessly to the door and looked outside into the sunshine. 'I can think of other places I'd rather be,' she said restlessly, then changed the subject to remark, 'Well, now there's no housekeeper, I'd better think about dinner. It's an awful bore. Charlie's aunt ran the house before, then she was ill and had to go to hospital. She died a few days ago.'
    `I know,' Ellis said sympathetically. 'Steve told me. I suppose you miss her very much.'
    Leanne shrugged and came back to the table. 'I didn't really know her all that well. Charlie and I _have only been married three months—not quite that—and we had a month's honeymoon in Victoria before we came here. Aunt Constance was here then, and she did everything, so it wasn't too bad. Now it's hopeless. I haven't got the hang of this kitchen yet, and the slow combustion stove drives me crazy. I won't be able to cope with the shearers and I'm just not going to try. I really do think Steve might have brought someone back to do things.'
    `Don't worry, Leanne,' said Ellis, relieved to find a housekeeper really was needed. 'I can do things, and if you like I'll get the dinner tonight to start with.' Steve had told her Leanne would do it, but wasn't it best to start the way she meant to go on? Leanne at any rate looked pleased enough.
    `All right. If you're sure you want to.'
    `I do,' Ellis said firmly. 'So don't you worry a bit. You'll be surprised how I can find my way round this kitchen ... What time do the men like to have their dinner?'
     
    `Seven thirtyish,' Leanne told her. 'When they come in they like to have a wash up and a drink. Charlie likes a can of beer, and Steve usually has a whisky. There's some steak in the fridge,' she added. 'We don't eat lamb all the time, thank goodness. Are you sure you can manage? I'd really love to shower and change before Charlie comes in. I always feel so filthy after driving that horrible old car in to Whitemark.'
    `Go ahead then,' said Ellis. 'I'll be all right.'
    At the door, Leanne turned to tell her, 'I always dress up for dinner. At least we can pretend to be civilised, even if we're not.'
    She vanished, and Ellis thought, 'She doesn't like it here,' and wondered why not—apart from the fact that she didn't seem capable of the work, which, apart from shearing time, surely wouldn't be oppressive. In Ellis's mind, the homestead was a very civilised one, and Steve, at least at the hotel in Hobart, had appeared to be a very civilised man, if dressing for dinner had anything to do with it. His attitude towards women, she had to admit, was little short of barbarous.
    For the next little while she occupied herself quite happily finding