A Chance Meeting.
by Peter Clarke
Caroline walked her horse slowly. It was hard to ride and balance her baby in front of her, so she didn’t attempt to hurry. Looking nervously at the sky, she wished she hadn’t set off to the store. It had been foolish and easy to regret now with hindsight. Tom was away carting goods again and she was sick of being stuck in the hut. It seemed he was always away leaving her to look after her baby and the animals, day in and day out.
It had started as a beautiful summer day, an unexpected chill in the air, no breeze to speak of and the promise of summer’s sun. She’d hurried with the chores, had eaten a hasty breakfast, put on her best dress and set off for Guyong, more excited than she could remember to just get out of the hut.
Now, the sky was nearly black, heavy clouds rolling quickly across it, the wind increasing in strength and snatching at her clothes. Lizzie started to cry, increasing Caroline’s anxiety. Lightning flashed in the distance. There were still a few miles to go and against her better judgement, she whispered to Kelly, her horse.
“We’d best get along. There’s not much time to waste,” and prodded him gently in the sides with her heels. Obediently, Kelly quickened his pace, but it wasn’t long before Caroline slowed him again. It was too hard to keep her balance and hold Lizzie at the same time. There was no other choice than to slow down and endure the storm for the time it would take them to get home. Perhaps she should stop at one of her neighbours. Then, if she did, she might be stranded. No, best to keep going.
There was a small stand of trees up ahead. Mostly, trees were removed by the farmers to plant crops, or to create grazing for animals. However, some were left beside roads and creeks to provide shade where there was little point to their removal. Perhaps she could shelter there, for a few minutes anyway and see if the storm would pass. They often did. A summer storm could be like a rooster. All fuss and bother for a few minutes then meek as a lamb.
As she headed towards the stand, she realised there was a rider there already. Both horse and rider were still, watching her and Kelly with interest. The rain began to fall, large drops which hit her forcefully. She was close to the man now and had a better view of him. There was nothing she could see that gave her cause for alarm. He looked young and was badly dressed. His jacket, trousers and hat were worn and his saddle shabby. In sharp contrast, his horse was splendid.
“Come in out of the rain,” he said quietly, his words shredded by the wind.
There was nothing else to do. She had no hope of escape if his intentions were to rob or hurt her.
As she drew near, she realised how little protection from the rain would be afforded by the stand and how foolish was his invitation to join him “out of the rain”.
“Here, take my jacket,” said the man. He didn’t wait for an answer, removing his jacket and passing it to Caroline. She didn’t object. If nothing else, it would keep some of the rain off Lizzie. The jacket had an awful smell of body odour, but it was better for Lizzie and Caroline was sure her baby wouldn’t object.
“What are you doing out here in this weather?” asked the man.
“I’ve been to the store. I wasn’t expecting a storm.”
“Do you live around here?”
“Not far.”
The man laughed. Water poured off his hat, soaking his shirt.
Caroline wondered what he found funny.
“Don’t give much away, do you?” he said.
“There’s not much to give away.”
“How old’s the baby?”
“Still a baby.”
“You have nothing to fear from me.”
Despite everything, Caroline felt relief. She should never have come and dreaded something might happen to Lizzie.
“What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you before,” she said.
“I’m not from around here. I’m from Carcoar. Well, I suppose I’m from Carcoar. I was there a few days ago.”
“Carcoar? That’s a pretty place. Where are you going?”
As soon as she spoke, Caroline regretted her words. It didn’t pay to be a busy body, certainly not with a stranger, and certainly not with a baby in her arms.
“I’d better be going now,” she said. She took the man’s jacket off Lizzie and held it out.
“You keep it, missus,” said the man. “It’s old and ready to be replaced. Anyhow, without it your baby will get wet and might catch its death.” Caroline hesitated for a moment, then put it back around Lizzie. On the one hand, it was nice of the man, but on the other, she no longer felt safe and had a sudden impulse to leave.
“Thank you,” she said and urged Kelly to continue their journey.
“Whoa,” said the man. “Shouldn’t you wait until the rain slows a little? There’s an hour or so of daylight left.”
“I need to be going. My husband will wonder where I am.”
Once again, the man laughed.
“He should take better care of you,” he said.
“Thank you for the jacket,” she said.
The man just tipped the brim of his hat. Caroline didn’t look back, ignored her better judgement and kicked Kelly into a canter such that she was barely able to hold Lizzie and ride at speed.
It was a half hour before she arrived at the hut. The rain had fallen heavily all the way, and she was a bedraggled, soaked mess. Lizzie had cried most of the time, it was hard to ignore her, and her cries only added to her feelings of stupidity.
She stopped Kelly outside the hut, dismounted, and took extra care with Lizzie as though she could make amends. Sloshing through the mud and water, she put Lizzie and the things she had bought which she had put in a flour sack, inside the hut. It didn’t take long to get the fire going. She always kept what she would need near at hand. Then she took Kelly to the barn, gave him some oats, took off his saddle and bridle, rubbed him down quickly and returned to the hut, glancing back fearfully the way they had come in case she had been followed.
Lizzie had fallen asleep on the floor. Caroline was grateful to her father for the fact it was now wooden. It wouldn’t do for Lizzie to fall asleep on a dirt floor, although Tom had said that worked perfectly well where he used to live outside Belfast. Thankful to be out of the rain, Caroline lit a lamp, then stripped off her own wet clothing, hoping that she hadn’t ruined her good dress and hung it on a peg on the wall near the fireplace. With luck, it would dry out and be as good as new. She dressed quickly, then turned to Lizzie. Her heart stopped for a moment when she realised how still and quiet Lizzie had become, but alarm turned to relief when she felt Lizzie and found her to be warm despite being soaked. She quickly stripped and dressed her.
Children only survive if they’re tough, she thought. But only time will tell if I’ve done her any harm. She cursed herself again for her stupidity.
She was tired herself, no doubt made more so by recriminations and anxiety. But there was no time for self-pity. She stoked the fire, every moment missing Tom and the help he could provide. Apart from the trip to the store, and being soaked by the storm, there was nothing to differentiate this day from any other. Never ending work and loneliness. She’d be glad when Lizzie would be older and would be help as well as company.
While waiting for the room to heat, Caroline fed Lizzie at the breast. It was almost time to wean her, but tonight wasn’t that time. When she was done, she put Lizzie in her cradle and set about fixing some supper. She didn’t fuss and was content with tea, bread and cheese.
When she was finished and had cleaned up, she checked on the things she had bought that day. Nothing exciting, it was more about the trip than the purchases. Fortunately, nothing would be ruined by the rain. She stacked the things, then as she moved past the bed, she noticed the man’s jacket which had fallen to the floor. It was hard to dismiss the thought that he was up to no good, but nothing he had said, nor anything he had done suggested bad intent.
Stooping, she picked up the jacket. The rain had done nothing to improve its appearance. She held it in front of her, then realised it was upside down. Thinking to hang it on a peg, as Tom might find some use for it, she turned it the right way up and there was a clunk! as something fell from a pocket. She had to get the lamp to find the object on the floor. Putting the lamp back on the table, she sat down and studied the object by the light of the lamp.
It was a locket.
Caroline didn’t own any, nor did she know much about them. It looked expensive to her untrained eye, but that was only because the metal looked like real gold. She pressed what looked like a button and exclaimed with delight when it opened and she could see a picture of a woman, but the poor light from the lamp didn’t help to distinguish her features. Turning the locket over, she could see writing on the back, but it told her nothing since she couldn’t read. She sat back and fondled the locket between her fingers. It felt good to do that even if it wasn’t hers. Somehow, she’d need to return it even if she was wrong and it was worthless. She’d never seen the young man before and she doubted that without trying, she’d see him again, so that might be easier said than done. Still holding the locket, she settled back in the chair and fell asleep. She dreamt about the locket.