all day and night.
Gradually Mr Carsons spent less time in bed. I think Ernie were trying to change his mind ’bout something. Sometimes he’d take Mr Carsons’s hand and have him come and stare at us and they’d talk softly about things I didn’t understand. The only thing that began to change were that Mr Carsons shook his head a lot when talking to Ernie and then one morning, while we were eyeing the chooks and the two men were looking at us, I seen out of the corner of me eye Mr Carsons nod his head once and after Ernie said something to him, he nodded his head up and down til I thought it were going to fall off.
The next morning Becky and I were in the buggy with Mr Carsons and Ernie were on his horse accompanying us. For the first few hours I thought I could smell a female tiger following us but I didn’t know if I were dreaming it or not. We passed through thick forests and bush til the bush became paddocks filled with sheep and cattle and the tracks became a wide road at the end of which was a distant mountain with snow on it. We travelled over a hill and there in front of us were thousands of houses surrounding a harbour filled with ships. Hobart, said Ernie. It meant nothing to me.
It were early morning and the city were asleep. A thick mist made it hard to see where we were going. It seemed like we were the only people alive and the hooves and wheels of the buggy sounded loud and harsh on the cobbled streets. Both me and Becky were gobsmacked by how large and scary were this town. It smelt different too; of chimney smoke, horse shit and rotting fish.
When we arrived in the centre of Hobart, Ernie rode off with his packhorse and Mr Carsons took us to a hotel. Once we were in a room he washed and bathed the both of us. He put Becky in a new dress, and some old trousers and shirt on me cos he knew I would tear up any dress they tried to put me in. He were hurrying and were up to a purpose. While I were pondering just what this hard man were on ’bout, he grabbed me, tied me up to a chair and put a gag round me mouth. He did it with anger cos I think deep down he blamed me for what happened to his daughter. Becky tried to stop him but he slapped her hands away and despite her threat yawn told her in a stern, no-nonsense way that he had to be obeyed. His gaze were so strong and his voice so tough that she stopped trying to rescue me. He took her to the door. I cried out her name from the bottom of my heart, sensing they were taking her from me but it must have sounded like I were merely coughing cos no real words escaped from the prison me mouth now were in. Becky tried to say something to me but her father shoved her into the hallway before slamming the door behind him.
What words can I use for how I felt? I had this fist of terror in my heart. I knew he were taking her from me. I managed to stand up with the chair still strapped to me bum and get meself to the window. I looked down and seen a white-faced Becky in the buggy next to her father. I hit my face against the window trying to get her attention, but she must have been in a state of shock or maybe she didn’t hear. Her father cracked his whip and the buggy drove off and as it did Becky turned round and looked up at me. She were weeping and so were I.
I watched the buggy vanish into the fog. I had to find where it had gone. I rocked from side to side on me chair trying to free meself. It took me an hour but I managed to wiggle out of the ropes. I tried the door but it were locked. There were no way out except for the windows.
The problem were I didn’t know how to open them. I tried to lift one up but it were locked with a piece of metal like the wings of a butterfly. I were beside myself with desperation so