Moments of Time

June of 1850: Part Two

  The following morning the sun shone through the gum trees. The magpies sang in the trees and the smells of food wafted from the kitchen. I woke with my arms wrapped around Sidney and the nosies of the rest of the household readying themselves for breakfast. I rose and dressed quietly, before helping Sidney dress. He was clinging to me, desperate to hod my hand or be close on my hip, but seemed in good spirits given the events of the day before. We walked downstairs to find the entire family sitting in the dinning room eating. This was a rarity in our household. The men usually ate first, in order to start on the morning chores. Then the youngest children would be fed, desperate for warm food. Lastly, the older girls and I would dine, when we woke. To have the whole family there was a treat. My Uncle was also at the table, indicating that he had arrived at some point after hearing the news. Everyone showed Sidney with attention, who could still not be coaxed off my lap. We stayed in the room, soaking up the sunshine and laughter all morning. It was not until noon that Mrs. King announced that the doctor had come to check on the welfare of Sidney that caused everyone to wonder off. The older boys were going back to the mine to see it in full day light and prevent anyone else from falling in. The younger girls had promised to help Mrs. King bake a cake, so that left me in the parlour waiting to meet Dr. Fidele. I was feeling nervous. I knew that he was here for the child, but nether less I could not stop the butterflies. I had a magnitude of questions, why was he here? Where was his wife?.

The door shut indicating that he had entered the room. He smiled at me, before coming close and addressing Sidney. He smiled and laughed for him, playing games and asking him all about the big adventure. I sat there and watched this man, once a love, now a stranger, play with my son. After ten or so minutes, he looked up. 
"Mrs. Fortiscorde, I am very satisfied that apart from some small cuts and bruising, your child will recover to full health", he started, "I am confident that given his age he will probably have limited recollection of the event. For you, I am afraid that may not be the case". He stood, "I would also like to officially apologise for my actions, all of them, that resulted in the end of our engagement and ceased our friendship", I started to open my mouth, but he seemed determined to continue, like he was rehearsing the lines of a play,

"I take full and compete responsibility for what occurred and whilst I recognise that may not mean much to you know, I wish you to know that accepting my apology means a lot to me. I am sorry if I am speaking out of turn, and do not wish to offend you, or upset your husband, but please, I am sorry".

"Albert, please", I paused, taking courage to look in his eyes, "I have long forgiven you for what silly mistakes we made as children. I am equally to blame. I vanished one day and failed to write. Then when you did come and find me, I let me hot temper refuse you", I stopped to catch my breath, "as for my husband, he will not bother you, unless you care to visit him at the far paddock where he is buried". I stopped. He didn't say anything. "Albert, please, would you stay for some tea?" I asked as Elizabeth came bursting in the door, tripping over the rug as she came in. I laughed, "Dr. Fidele, may I introduce my eldest child, Miss Elizabeth Fortiscorde?" to which Elizabeth did a little bow. He laughed, breaking the tension of the situation. "Of course, you have met my youngest child, Master Sidney"

"Only two children?" he asked, with that familiar twinkle in his eye.

"Yes, I have the two",

"But there are many more residing here? I am sure I counted at least three others?" he said looking puzzled,

"I am the guardian of my younger cousins, who all live here" I began to explain. That started our afternoon of chatting. We relieved our lives to each other, retelling of the tragedy and triumph of our lives. As he talked I could not help but be enchanted. I felt like stories showed a intimacy to his life that I was receiving a private viewing too. He had lost his wife, not long after I had married Edward. She had just dropped dead he explained, going to sleep one night and never waking up. He spoke of her in a reversed light, showing respect to her memory that I could not help but be jealous of. 

He had travelled a bit, moving to the colony to fulfil a need for more doctors, bringing his younger brother with him after the deaths of his parents. His life had been full of sadness and adventure, but also of regret. He mentioned that he had been to the Big House a number of times, and was surprised to find one day that I was no longer residing there. He had given up on finding me, presuming that I had died or had moved away. He knew I was married, but despite this was keen to be a part of my life, even if that was restricted to friendship. Our conversation continued for hours. 

As the room began to get cold with the sunset and departure of afternoon, he stood, ready to go once more. The children who had since left the room in order to find something less boring to entertain themselves, barely stirred as we walked past onto the porch. Looking across my land, the sun lay low in the sky, casting shadows across the creases and folds, over the trees and in the sky, was every colour of the rainbow. We walked steadily, standing next to his horse. He reached out, taking one of my hands in his. I look down at our hands intertwined, the same from our youth, yet aged in a way I never thought I would know. He took his other hand and tilted my head up, looking straight into his eyes.

                                                                                ...................

My little girl. There it is, that bring us to now. Your nine now, so big. Your tall like your father, but have my features. Your laugh all the time, constantly trailing after your cousins. You love the sound of the magpies in the morning and to read. Everyday I think of your father and what a amazing daughter he has. You and Sidney have brought me so much joy. Together, you keep the memory of your father alive, and even now, when you help with your younger siblings, you remind me of the kind man I loved. 

My hope for you, little girl, is to find love. Find the love I am lucky to have twice in my life. Find the happiness and hold on to it, never let it go and when it rains, enjoy the sound of the rain and know that eventually the sun will come out. 

Your all the love, 

Your Mother, 

Louisa Fidele