Copyright © 2014 Clare Flynn
All rights reserved.
And over the Blue Mountains
We found a greater world.
From The Blue Mountains (A Song of Australia)
Alfred Noyes (1880 -1958
With permission from The Society of Authors as the literary representative of the estate of Alfred Noyes
CHAPTER ONE
Hunter’s Down, Weardale, England 1920
Someone had made a bit of a mess of tying the coloured bunting between the trees. It was fluttering loose at one end, so the breeze lifted it and swept it up against the grey stone of the chapel wall and down again. The man smiled, thinking the pastor would not be happy as the string of brightly coloured triangles looked as though they belonged to the chapel, instead of marking the coming Miners’ Gala. Bunting and Methodism didn’t really sit well together.
He sat down on the wooden bench opposite the chapel, his elbows on his knees, his fists tucked under his chin, and waited for Minnie. Whenever he raised the idea of moving away from the valley she managed to engineer an interruption or a diversion: a younger brother or sister to check on, a pot near to boiling or a raised eyebrow and the clear signal that there were much more desirable ways to spend an afternoon than talking about faraway places.
He looked up and saw her hurrying towards him from the row of cottages that fringed the other side of the green. They had grown up together, but every time he saw her he wanted to pinch himself. She was that pretty.
She flung her arms around his neck and he grabbed her by the waist and swung her around. Her long hair smelled of soap and he couldn’t resist running his hands through it.
‘You’ve just washed your hair?’
‘So?’
‘Was that for seeing me?’
‘Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t.’
‘Well if it wasn’t for me, you’d better tell me who you washed it for, so I can go and knock his block off.’
Minnie smiled and pulled him down beside her onto the bench. ‘Who says everything has to be for a fellow? Can’t I please myself?’
‘If pleasing yourself means having hair that smells of apples, you can please yourself as much as you want.’
She smiled back at him and said, ‘So what was so important that you wanted to see me out here instead of coming round our house, Michael Winterbourne?’
‘There’s something I need to ask you.’
‘Well go on, ask away!’
Michael hesitated and wondered whether to broach the idea of leaving, before or after his proposal of marriage. He plunged in, the words spilling out of his mouth so fast he was almost tripping over them.
‘You know what I’m going to ask you, Min. And you know I’d have asked it long ago if it weren’t for the war and showing some respect for your Da and your brother and then there’s been your mother and the bairns to think of. I know she’s been relying on you to help out and I couldn’t rightly expect you not to be there for her, but now they’re a bit older…’
‘Yes. The answer’s yes. I’ll have you, Michael. There’s no need for a long speech.’
She leaned back against the wood of the bench and smiled at him.
