Call of the Kiwi (4 page)

4

A
fter the first few exciting days at sea, Lilian Lambert had grown bored. Though it was nice when dolphins accompanied the ship or the occasional giant barracuda or whale was spotted, Lilian was more interested in people, and the
Norfolk
had little to offer in that regard. There were only twenty passengers, primarily older people visiting their homeland and a few businessmen. The latter were not interested in children, and though the former found Lilian sweet, they had nothing to talk about.

Gloria, however, enjoyed the journey—as much as she could enjoy anything that was not Kiward Station. She often sat for hours on deck watching the dolphins at play. Miss Bleachum and Lilian were enough company for her. She listened enthusiastically when her teacher read to her about whales and ocean fish, and she attempted to figure out how the steamship’s engine functioned. Her insatiable interest in the sea and the ship brought her into contact with the crew as well. The sailors attempted to bring her out of her shell by showing her sailors’ knots and eventually let her help with minor tasks on deck. One day, the captain brought her onto the bridge, where she was allowed to hold the steering wheel of the giant ship for a few seconds. Navigation interested her as much as sea life.

Sarah Bleachum observed it all with growing concern. Her cousin—who had expressed his delight that Sarah was accompanying the girls to Canterbury—had arranged for her to receive a prospectus for Oaks Garden. The syllabus confirmed her worst fears. The natural sciences were hardly covered at all.

When the ship arrived in London, Gloria was at a loss for words for the first time in her life. She had never seen such large buildings, at least not so many at once. Although the cathedral in Christchurch could hold its own against its European counterparts, here there were just so many. Between the architecture and the incessant noise and the fast pace, the English capital oppressed her.

While Lilian blossomed—she was soon speaking just as quickly as the English and laughing with the girls selling flowers—Gloria only looked around her with big eyes, careful not to lose sight of Miss Bleachum.

Gloria could not even comprehend the musical performance for which Kura and William had reserved tickets—the only proof of their existence that they had left for their daughter before departing for Russia. She found the singers affected and the music too loud, and she did not feel comfortable in the clothes she had to wear in London.

Sarah Bleachum was not surprised. While Lilian looked lovely in her sailor’s outfit, it looked like a costume on Gloria. The girl even burst into tears over her school uniform. She looked stocky in the knee-length skirt and long jacket, and the white blouse made her complexion look doughy. What was more, they would not hold up to the demands of Gloria’s daily life. Gloria wanted to touch everything, and was accustomed to wiping her hands on her clothes, which wasn’t a problem when she was in breeches on Kiward Station, but white blouses and light-blue blazers were not made for such treatment.

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief when they finally boarded the train to Cambridge. Country life would be more appealing to Gloria. According to Christopher, Sawston—the nearest town near to Oaks Garden—was a rather idyllic little town. Sarah looked forward to meeting her cousin with a wildly beating heart. She had rented a room in the house of a widow who was said to be a pillar of the community, but she hoped to take a position at Oaks Garden. She had told the McKenzies nothing about applying for the job, to keep Gloria from getting her hopes up. But she wanted to get to know Christopher with the security of a solid position rather than as a more or less destitute relative. A school year would be an ideal way to reach a final decision about her possible future husband. And in the worst case, she could save the money she earned to return to New Zealand without admitting her failure to the McKenzies. It would be too embarrassing for her to accept Gwyneira’s magnanimous offer of a return ticket if things didn’t work out.

Sarah watched with bated breath as London gave way to suburbs and finally to the lovely landscape of the midlands. Gloria appeared happier when they spotted the first horses in the green pastures, and Lilian could hardly contain her excitement over Miss Bleachum’s love life.

“It must be so thrilling to finally see your sweetheart. Do you know the song ‘The Trees They Grow So High’? A girl marries the son of a lord, but he’s much younger than she, an
d . . .
How old is the reverend anyway?”

Sarah sighed and looked anxiously over at Gloria, who had grown silent as they approached Cambridge. Although the landscape looked quite like the Canterbury Plains, everything was on a smaller scale and more densely populated, with farms and cottages dotting the fields. Gloria chewed on her fingernails, a bad habit she had developed on the sea crossing, but Sarah did not want to admonish her. The girl was unhappy enough as it was.

“Will I be able to write letters at least, Miss Bleachum?” Gloria asked when the conductor announced that Cambridge was the next stop.

“Of course, Gloria. You know Christopher and I have been writing each other for years. It just takes a few weeks for them to arrive.”

Gloria nodded and gnawed on a hangnail.

“It’s so far,” she said quietly. Her finger was bleeding. Sarah gave her a handkerchief.

Reverend Christopher Bleachum was waiting at the train station. He had borrowed a small chaise since he did not own a carriage of his own. He usually made his visits on horse, but if he were to get married, he supposed he would have to acquire a vehicle for himself. Christopher sighed. The changes would be enormous if he took a wife. He had never seriously considered the possibility before getting Sarah Bleachum’s letter announcing her arrival. But there had been that incident with Mrs. Walker a few months before, and the girl before that during his theological seminar.

Not that Christopher could help that women chased after him. With his curly dark hair, his tan complexion, and his soulful, almost black eyes, he was simply too handsome for them to stay away. His dark, soft voice made him an exceptional singer, and he listened well. He seemed to look into people’s very souls—as the parishioners were so fond of whispering to each other. Christopher had compassion for almost everyone. But he was also a man, and when a young woman needed more support than words could offer, the reverend could not exactly hold himself back.

He tried to be discreet, as did most of the women. But there had been talk about Mrs. Walker, a rather labile young wife whose husband was more inclined to visit the pub than her bed. The bishop himself learned of it after Christopher had been forced into a fight with the man one Sunday after service. Although the other fellow had started it, Christopher could not simply sit passively by. The witnesses were all on his side, but the bishop had left no doubt as to his opinion on the matter.

“You ought to marry, Reverend Bleachum. In fact, you are meant to marry. It will be pleasing to God and keep you from further temptation. Yes, yes, I know you are unaware of any wrongdoing. But it will also keep women from viewing you as fair game. Eve will give up tempting you.”

From Christopher’s perspective, that only meant having the serpent at his throat. The young ladies in his parish seemed to him more a damnation than a temptation. And the bishop would hardly give him a few months off to go to London to look for someone more suitable. His cousin Sarah’s last letter arrived just in time. Christopher had been exchanging letters with Sarah since they were children, and he had always found her naïve reaction to his mild flirting and innuendos amusing. In the photograph she had sent him, she looked a little homespun, but attractive enough, and she was more than suited to the post of pastor’s wife. When she had announced the news of a free crossing, Christopher decided to accept Sarah Bleachum as a godsend. He could only hope that God had demonstrated a happier hand in her creation than in that of the other unmarried girls in the area.

As Christopher sauntered across the platform, he once again drew looks from the women all around.

“Good day, Reverend.”

“How do you do, Reverend?”

“That was a wonderful sermon on Sunday, Reverend. We’ll have to go over the parable again more closely in our women’s group.”

Most of these ladies were far too old to lead Christopher into temptation. But the petite Mrs. Deamer now smiling at him and raving about his sermon could well have been to his liking. If only she were not already taken. Christopher had baptized her first child at Christmas.

As the train pulled into the station, Christopher could hardly keep still.

“You should put your glasses on, Miss Bleachum,” Gloria advised solicitously.

“No! He might not find you pretty,” squealed Lilian. “Miss Bleachum, I think I see the reverend. Oh my, he is good-looking!”

Sarah Bleachum, completely beside herself at the prospect of meeting her cousin, gathered their trunks and felt her way to the exit. She tripped over her hatbox and stumbled down the steep steps to the platform. As Gloria tried to help her, Lilian skipped onto the platform and began to wave.

“Reverend? Are you looking for us, Reverend?”

Christopher Bleachum looked around. There they were. The lively-looking redhead was quite pretty and would undoubtedly develop into an attractive young woman. The other girl seemed to be in an awkward stage, and she was hanging on her governess’s skirt. Sarah Bleachum seemed not to have any radiance or personality at all. She was evidently one of those poor faceless goats who take other people’s children for walks in the park because they were not blessed with any offspring of their own. Sarah was wearing a charcoal gray dress with an even darker shawl under which any physical form disappeared. She hid her austerely pulled-back dark hair under a hat like a nun, and her expression alternated between confusion and helplessness. At least her face was symmetrical. Christopher sighed with relief. Though Sarah Bleachum was featureless, she was not downright ugly.