Summer at Mount Hope Read Free Page A

burning gas lamp and the tip of her nose was blue. The three false ringlets she pinned above her ears and the small mourning bonnet she shoved on top made her look like a spaniel with a bunch of grapes on its head. She’d worn the same bonnet, the same black dress and the same large, elaborate bustle every day of the nine years since her beloved husband died. Hadley resembled his mother – fine and thin – but Henrietta was big boned, like her late father.
    Widow Pearson pointed to the muddy watermark at Spot’s flanks: ‘I see you have been dragged through the mud again.’
    â€˜I thanked Marius Overton for saving us,’ gushed Lilith.
    â€˜We were saved by Mr Titterton,’ said Phoeba, impatiently. Her jacket itched and her feet were swelling in her boots. She just wanted to go home.
    â€˜My poor friend Mr Titterton,’ said Widow Pearson. ‘I don’t know why you don’t get a decent horse and for that matter, a suitable carriage. At least get lamp sockets.’
    â€˜Anything larger would be extravagant for the three of us,’ said Maude, glancing at the Pearsons’ sumptuous six-seater. The truth was that Robert said they couldn’t afford a four-seater, even a wagonette. So that was that.
    â€˜It’s good to see Marius out and about,’ said Lilith, eagerly. ‘He’s obviously getting over his loss.’
    Phoeba was about to ask why going to church indicated recovery from grief when Widow Pearson interrupted – ‘They say he came back to Overton for Christmas,’ – and pulled her mourning veil over her face. ‘Anyway, Lilith, what would you know about losing a spouse?’
    The vicar drove past in the wake of the Temperance women’s buggy. ‘Do you think he’s … eligible?’ asked Maude, and Phoeba felt her gaze.
    â€˜No,’ she said.
    Lilith and Henrietta, even Hadley, shook their heads.
    â€˜He has a career, a future,’ said Widow Pearson, smoothing her son’s lapel. ‘But of course Hadley has a splendid future in wool ahead of him.’
    Hadley bit his bottom lip and adjusted his spectacles.
    â€˜Well,’ said Lilith, ‘that won’t be too splendid. All I ever read about is how the wool industry’s about to collapse.’
    Widow Pearson started panting and her sky-blue nose turned immediately purple. ‘The world needs wool, Lilith Crupp,’ she wheezed. ‘What on earth else is there to wear?’And she lifted her skirts, put her foot on the step, held her elbows out and waited for Hadley and Henrietta to hoist her into the Hampden.
    â€˜Will you be in this afternoon?’ asked Hadley, as Phoeba took her position behind her mother, found the rim of her corset through the folds of her satin skirts and pushed her into the sulky.
    â€˜No,’ said Phoeba, panting. ‘We’re going to Melbourne.’
    Hadley frowned, puzzled.
    â€˜It was a joke,’ said Phoeba.
    â€˜Of course it was,’ he said, and put his hat on. ‘I’ll drop in.’
    Phoeba watched as he steered the old Hampden out of the yard. She always maintained she didn’t believe in God, that she only came to church because she had to drive. But she said to herself, ‘Please God, let Hadley get the job.’ It would be his first job since finishing school and Overton must need a classer. It would lift Hadley, his mother and sister from a fading existence to comfort.
    At the intersection Hadley waved and turned south to Elm Grove while Spot kept on towards Mount Hope. Home to the Crupps was a neat weatherboard nestled at the base of an outcrop which was actually just a gathering of boulders on top of a big, bushy ridge – a full stop to some distant, ancient ranges. The house had four rooms and a kitchen tacked onto the back, a lawn of stringy buffalo grass and some desperate petunias at the base of the front step.
    â€˜I don’t