Ironbark Read Free Page A

her father-in-law’s grey hair had brought him tolerance. Keziah heard Ivano sleepily rebuke his wife.
    â€˜Today is her birthday. Don’t be so hard on the girl, Patronella. It’s natural she cries for our son. As my mother used to say, “Just as the mare beats the road, so the young wife wants the penis”.’
    â€˜Yes, but with Gem in prison she’s ripe for any man to provide it!’
    Keziah consoled herself with the knowledge that Patronella’s insult would be the last she would ever have to suffer. Today she would place her trust in baxt and leave the loved vardo that Gem had built for her before he was dragged before the magistrate. The charge of horse theft had earned him the sentence almost inevitable for a ‘Gypsy vagabond’– transportation to New South Wales. Keziah knew he could easily have been given fourteen years or life, but his ‘lenient’ seven-year sentence was no consolation.
    She clung to the memory of Gem’s bravado as he was led from the assizes. ‘Keziah! No beak on earth has the power to keep me from you!’
    She vowed she would make his words reality. She tied her few possessions in a bundle: her Tarot cards, a change of clothing, a warm shawl and headscarves to proclaim her status as a married Romani woman. She wore two layers of skirts over her red petticoats to avoid carrying them, and over her blouse she added the waistcoat fringed with foreign gold coins that testified to her ancestors’ flight across Europe.
    She was halfway across the open space to the road to Liverpool when Patronella’s voice shattered the early morning tranquillity. Keziah bolted across the green with Patronella in pursuit. The older woman’s grey plaits snaked in the air as she seized Keziah’s hair with a cry of victory.
    Keziah fought down her fear, holding fast to the image of Gem’s face.
    â€˜I’m leaving you, Patronella. I belong to Gem – and I’m going to find him.’
    Patronella released a tirade of abuse that allowed Keziah no chance to defend herself. Drawn to the sound of conflict, men, women and children emerged from under the wheels of their vardos and the hedgerows where they had dossed down. The older women urged Patronella to bring Keziah into line, but the men were more guarded, out of respect for Gem.
    Aware of Ivano’s scrutiny Keziah lowered her eyes in deference. She flushed with gratitude when he quietly admonished his wife.
    â€˜Enough! Let the girl go with your blessing.’
    â€˜Blessing! Bah! My Gem’s well rid of her. A barren wife is no good to any man.’
    Keziah faltered, overwhelmed by a shaft of pain at her failure to be a real wife, but she remained silent.
    â€˜See what a viper she is? She’ll force me into poverty!’ Patronella twisted the gold coins that edged her own waistcoat, unaware of the irony of her gesture.
    For years Keziah had shown Patronella respect, but now she lost her temper.
    â€˜Be honest! You’re just afraid to lose the money my Tarot readings bring to the family purse.’ She pushed a silver coin into the woman’s hand. ‘Here! This will buy your meat till a child learns the Tarot to keep you in the same luxury I have.’
    â€˜Bah! Your fortune-telling is worthless,’ Patronella spat out. ‘Only the gullible gaujo are stupid enough to fall for your lies.’
    â€˜I never lie!’ cried Keziah.
    â€˜You lying posh rat ! Your gaujo blood pollutes you! You’ll dishonour Gem just like Stella the Whore dishonoured your father.’
    Keziah’s cheeks flushed as if Patronella had struck her. The men stiffened at the word ‘dishonour’, but softer faces in the crowd flinched in sympathy at this brutal reminder Keziah was a half-blood Romani.
    She addressed the crowd. ‘I refuse to trade insults with Gem’s mother, but you all know how clearly I see the future. I will cross the seas to