The Returning (33 page)

THE BIG HOUSE gave the staff every fourteenth day off.

“It does feel good,” said Pin, “to be home and doing home things.” She stood up and looked out over the bottom terrace, as if she had not seen it for years.

“Tire of the grand life up at the House, do you, Pin?”

“Hughar, do you sink yourself in the silage.”

“You working or talking?” said Mam. So Pin took up her hoe and went on culling the weeds from the rows. The sun pushed a heavy warmth against her back, but the breeze was stiff and just a little too cool, so between them she was comfortable.
Dig, dig
.

“It is not what I did think it to be,” she said when she and Mam met across a row.

“Aye?”

“Stuck up in that room and only Lea and Gerin and Tse-tsa to talk to. And
she
—” Pin meant Tse-tsa. “She never lets us talk.”

“That's where all this chat does come from.” Mam laughed and moved on up her row.

The next time, Pin said, “I do love the clothes, though, the colors and patterns of them and the feel of that silk they do always wear.” She stopped, blushing, thinking of the carp-patterned robe.

They broke for the noon meal. Pin took the cider flask in one hand and drank deep as the men. Her other hand she pressed to her bodice, to feel Cam's letter there.
Now?
she wondered. She passed the flask on.

“Mam?” she said, when they were back at work. “I do think I'll quit the Big House, when I'm wed. Acton will need me on his holding anyway, with Da Farmer growing older.”

Mam stopped her hoeing to straighten and look at Pin. Mam with her thick silver hair and fine dark eyes, and pretty, her mam. Her smile was warm as the lady's. “Your da'll say that's grand.”

They finished the potatoes and together climbed up the earthwall and walked uphill to the home plot, to put netting over the soft fruit to keep the birds from it. Pin thought,
Now?
And still she hesitated.

Then the day was done and drawing in and they were all of them sat around the table, eating big after the day's work, talking little. Pin put down her knife, drew the letter from her bodice.

“From Cam,” she said. “He did write to us.”

Da stopped eating, mid bite, as did the twins, Mam.

“Give us,” said Hughar, snatching like he used to as a boy. “Look.” He passed the letter around.

“He said . . .” Pin tried to find words that gave voice to what Cam had said underneath the words he had written. “He said he does come home. Not yet, but he does come.”

Mam held her apron to her mouth and cried, cried like Pin cried, just tears and no noise. Da shoved the bench back and walked to the door, to the hearth, then stood at Mam's back.

“Huh.” He put his hand, his big, veiny, lumpy hand, on Mam's shoulder. Hughar was turning the letter every way up.

Edord paused his steady eating. “So he did ought to.”

“Aye,” said Hughar.

That night, as she rubbed cream on her hands, Pin dreamed—of herself in the carp-patterned robe, of Acton's face when she told him of Cam's letter, of Cam riding into the yard on his big gray, just as he had before.

Abenestor
Ellaner

Da (Gavrin)
Mam
Cam (Vercamer)
Hughar
Edord
Pin (Appin)

Master (Garrad)
Mistress
Isla

Da
Mam
Dance
Dinster
Fallon
Minnan
Calister
Tobian
Marrister
Jerric
Ardow
Hale
Ban

Da (Corban)
Brae
Oda

Father (Arno)
Mother
Stepmother (Vivrain)
Graceful

Pelister, Lord of Dorn-Lannet

Da
Mam
Layne
Grove
Farrow

Master
Mistress
Raene
Minnet

Grett

Master (Royed)
Mistress
Graine
Nariet

Davin
Dallon

Mam
Da (Callen)
Acton

Da, village Headman
Mam
Roan

Bailey
Big Bubbo

Mistress (Carin)
Finnlay
Samlin
Posey

Da, village Headman

Master
Caldo

Gillert

Selena
Giitan
Gaida
Diido

Mother, Lady Ryuu
Father, Lord Ryuu / Lord
of Dorn-Lannet
Shi-chi
Gyushin
Gyurama
Gyodan
Gyaar
Shi-ryuu
Shi-mii
Shi-karu

Jak-jak, Tutor

Old Sow, senior Lady in Waiting

Tseri, Koi-master

Urasu, Captain of the Guard

Tse-tsa, Servant in Charge of Clothes Folding

Ii-yo (Puss-faced Bit), Lady in Waiting

Landlady of the White Mule
Siasen

T
HERE IS A cast of thousands I would love to thank, for believing in me, encouraging me, reading my writing whenever I asked you to, for standing by me and waiting patiently while I shut the world out to write. For your unstinting and generous support, and for being happy for me. More or less in order of appearance:

My family: Maz, Joff, Jenz, Hez, Juz and Kaz. Ian James, Tim McVitty, and of course, Riley James. Not only for everything else, but during the most gruelling part of getting this book finished, you've cooked for me, cleaned up for me, so that I could write and not worry.

RMIT Professional Writing and Editing Course. Thank you for your guidance and encouragement, Kirsty Elliot, way back when I started, and Olga Lorenzo, and especially to Clare Renner for showing me what writing for young adults and children could be and helping bring
Bloodflower
into being.

My writing group. Where would I be without you? For your brilliant feedback, conversation, company, wine and chocolate, not to mention your brilliant writing, Kim Kane, Andrew McDonald, Viv Ulman, and Jane Wallace Mitchell—and to Elise Hurst for the lovely maps. You've realized my vision beautifully. To Ann James as well for putting in a word for me, where it really counted. Susan Utbers—you're not forgotten.

To Allen and Unwin: Rosalind Price, thank you for being interested enough to sign me up, and for your time and encouragement in getting me there. To Elise Jones for your mammoth editorial support, your “pretty please trust me on this one,” your pastoral care. To Sue Flockhart, and Angela Namoi.

My friends: for standing by me and waiting patiently while I shut the world out and wrote. For being happy for me. Lou Boustead, Alison Carter, Ann Lau, Anna Fairbank, Meaghan Flack, Justin Bowd, Steve, Robyn, Murray, Ashah and Winsome Browne, Brian Roden, Fi McArthur, Kim Wilson, Leah Nowakowski, Cath McGee, Juliette Allen, Hiromi Kawamoto, Kumiko Onishi, Ruriko Katayama, Victoria Strutt, Susan Wallace, Rosemary Brookes, Rik Doyer, Suse and Chris Hutchison, Lindy Washington, Job and Cosmina Pinkster, for taking the trouble to read it all, and to Sam Stephens, Paul Duncan, Timmy and Kate Withall, Richard “Harry Potter” Ferens, Aurel Griesser, Killer, James Hamson, Andrew Hergott, Ellie Lim, Anne Barthelemy, Tony King, Cherie Holland, Dierx, Sjef, Barbara, Johnnie, Laurena Fraser, Adrian, Sieming Tu, Paul Sincock, and all the AMOG crew. The Potts family entire for being employers, friends, nieces and nephews.

To my workmates at EPPL: Steve Kanthan, Janice Daglish, Petal Brambleby, Ian Cashion, Raj Lal, Tore Narum, Andrew Bourke, Des Croke, Alex Cavuoto, Tania Petrov, Jie Chen, Rod Foulds, Ross Tolliday, Eoin Strack, Lucy Fang, Gaowen Hou, Bob Wang, for asking and being interested.

To John Seymour's
The New Complete Book of Self-Sufficiency
, which was my bible for seasons and plants.

And for those who I've left out, but not because I meant to.

CHRISTINE HINWOOD was born in England and grew up mostly in Australia, but also in England and America. She's always written. When she was very small, she used to sit and make up stories in her head and told people she'd have to talk to them after she'd finished it. Christine studied Professional Writing and Editing at RMIT in Melbourne.
The Returning
is her first novel.