Read Online The Noon Lady of Towitta by Patricia Sumerling - Free Book Online

arrived, Father retracted the terrible weapon and the hawker turned back. Father shouted after him, ‘Keep away from my womenfolk, or else.’
    Four weeks later, about the time we next expected him to visit, Mr Khan was found dead with a fractured skull on the roadside near Sedan. It was decided at the inquest that he must have fallen from his wagon, there was no other explanation for the blow to his head. The weal on his arm and across his face, however, couldn’t be explained. But we all knew Father was fond of using his whip.
    When we heard of Mr Khan’s death we were horrified and Pauline wept uncontrollably. I was rather surprised at this outpouring of sorrow and it made me suspicious something else had been going on. Mother kept telling the distraught Pauline to pull herself together, telling her, ‘My girl, he was only a hawker and you didn’t really know him, a foreigner, not even a Christian.’
    Such remarks failed to comfort Pauline. She would fly out of the door and into the paddock where she sobbed all the louder. Mother never told Father the reason why Pauline was always crying, she kept inventing other excuses such as her favourite lamb dying. We talked of Mr Khan’s death between ourselves for months afterwards, but whenever Father was present we remained silent. We wondered why he refused to discuss the death. After all, Father was always free with his opinions and advice, yet when Mr Khan was concerned, Father remained silent.
    Frederick also had his suspicions, telling us, ‘I know Father has something to do with this.’
    Mother was shocked, ‘How can you accuse your father of such a terrible crime?’
    â€˜Mother, you weren’t there that day. When I came across them on the roadway, Father was pointing the gun right in Mr Khan’s face and shouting at him to keep away from his daughters. Mr Khan just sat there bravely, refusing to defend himself, or budge.’
    â€˜But that doesn’t prove anything,’ Mother answered.
    â€˜Father threatened to thrash him. What are we to believe? And rumours abound at the pub.’
    Startled, Mother asked, ‘Since when have you been going to the pub?’
    â€˜I don’t, my friends go there and they told me. They’ve been asking me questions about Father. They all know that he treats us harshly and sometimes whips us. And Mr Khan had unexplained whip welts on him.’
    â€˜Surely not, son? Who is spreading such wicked rumours about what goes on in this house? What business is it of theirs?’
    â€˜I’m sure no one is at all interested what goes on here normally, but when such things as unexplained deaths happen in this sleepy district, people will question anybody to get the answers they want. Look, I plan to leave here when I find a position on a cattle station up north. I’m not willing to put up with his whip and temper any longer. And if I can’t find a situation soon, I’ll go and live with Grandpa at Eden Valley. They’ve told me I can go there any time.’
    Mother put her hand to her mouth and gasped with dismay when Frederick reminded her that family matters such as Father’s brutality were discussed, just as was everyone else’s business in Towitta and Sedan.
    For weeks after Mr Khan’s death, Father was edgy and barely spoke, not even to Mother. Surely Father wouldn’t be so stupid as to murder an innocent hawker. The inquest findings declared it a tragic accident, but each night after we went to bed we would discuss it as a murder, for that’s what we believed it to be.
    Pauline was more affected by his death than the rest of us. It seemed to trigger off some deep-held fears about our own situation, of our isolation on a dusty farm. Each day she spoke of her wish to be rescued by some young man passing through, someone like Mr Khan. She was older than me and her chances of marriage were slipping away, as were Mother’s when she