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thought. What
about her? Would he take her with him? Where was he headed? To The Settlement? She
couldn’t go back there. That life was finished. She had to start a new one,
somehow, somewhere far away.
    When Paul brought his mug of tea and took a seat
on a stump, with one eye on the bubbling porridge pot, Elly collected herself,
ready for an accounting. But he forestalled her.
    ‘Miss Ballard, are there any others of your
party lost and wandering in the bush? Should I try to arrange a search?’
    Elly cleared her throat. ‘No. I had no party. I
was alone.’
    His brows rose and he waited.Elly burst into her
speech. ‘My story sounds incredibly strange, I know, but I beg you to believe
it is true. I come from a small village called The Settlement, back in the
hills above the Myall River. It services a cedar cutters’ camp and, as far as I
can see, that’s its only reason for being. My... my father was the doctor. He trained
me as his assistant, and when he died recently I took over his practice as well
as I could.’
    Paul Gascoigne raised his mug and blew gently at
the rising steam. Elly noticed his hands, long and muscular, burnt brown by the
sun.
    He said, ‘This Settlement was singularly
fortunate in having two medical people in residence.’
    Elly’s mouth twisted sadly. ‘One would have
thought so. However, a newcomer, a so-called Doctor Harwood, arrived and set
about undermining people’s faith in my skills. At first I felt there could be
room for both of us, but he obviously did not. When I offered to act as his assistant
he rebuffed me. I now realise he was waiting for the opportunity to discredit
me totally.’ She paused. ‘He did so at the cost of a child’s life. Blaming me
for his own incompetence, he swayed the people against me, turning them into a
mob lusting for blood. They attacked me and drove me out, knowing that without
help I would die on the bush track.’
    Paul Gascoigne dropped his mug. He bent to
recover it, saying in an even tone, ‘I find it almost incredible. To do that to
a woman.’
    ‘To anyone.’ Elly had turned fierce. ‘The one
thing about this harsh country is the way it breeds bonds between folk for
protection. We must stand back to back and face its hardships together. The
people of The Settlement broke that bond.’
    Paul’s head came up. ‘Well said. It’s imperative
that we support one another if we are to survive and turn this land into a
thriving, self-determining community. The inhabitants of your Settlement sound
to me like the worst kind of low-minded idiots.’
    Elly said more happily, ‘Thank you.’
    ‘Did they do that to your hair?’
    Flushing, Elly raised her hands to her spiky
head, then let them drop. ‘Yes.’
    ‘An unnecessary refinement of cruelty. I shall
not bother to visit The Settlement. It’s crossed off my list.’
     He got up and ladled porridge into a bowl,
adding brown sugar, and handed it with a spoon to Elly. His own share went into
his empty mug.
     Seeking a change of subject, Elly asked, ‘What
list is that? Do you travel to all the settlements north of Sydney Town?’
    ‘As many as I can reach in a given time.’ He
concentrated on his porridge, seemingly at the end of his explanation.
    But Elly was intrigued. ‘I should like to hear
more about your travels, if you please. Do you ride out for pleasure? What do
you hope to achieve?’
    Evidently willing enough to oblige, he began to
outline his purpose. It seemed he was politically ambitious, hopeful of
eventually gaining a seat on the colony’s Legislative Council, despite the firm
hold of the wealthy property owners. But to do this he needed the support of the
less important members of society, to push for their right to a vote and to
representation by men who had their interests at heart.
    ‘Our time will come,’ Paul promised. ‘The small
people are gaining strength and they want a voice in their governance. We’ll
not end up with a class-ridden society like the one