* * *
Constable Hopwood met the Hawkins’ family at Cockle Creek, they had stopped to stretch their legs and have a cup of tea. He informed them that Mrs Langley and Emily were aware of their coming and of the events of the previous day.
He waited for them to board the wagon which had a front and rear seat attached together, William was driving while his father sat next to him with his arm in a sling. Lillian and Matilda sat in the seat facing to the rear.
When Constable Hopwood had left Hobart for this new posting at Gladstone he never envisaged that his life would be so turned upside down, he was in love with the delectable Matilda, had been since he first seen her on the stage. He turned his horse back towards Gladstone, but not before he took a last look at Matilda, she waved to him, he waved back and he smiled to himself knowing full well that one day, not so far away, he would ask Matilda to marry him.
* * *
Emily had gathered the children and lined them up in the kitchen; all of them were quiet and subservient. They knew something was going on, but what it was they were unsure. Emily didn’t dress it up or change anything to try and make it sound better. She just gave them the facts as they were. There were some tears and some questions, Emily tried to answer them truthfully and comforted them as best she could. Then she told them to go and wash and put on their best clothes as their aunt, uncle, and probably some cousins were coming to visit.
It was close to midday when Jeremy, the eldest boy, ran back to the house. A wagon was approaching with four people in it, he told them. They all rushed to the verandah, their eyes fixed on the wagon as it came closer. Emily stood between the children bidding them to be quiet as they chattered.
Mrs Langley squinted her eyes against the bright sunlight as she stared at the people in the wagon, the man and the boy looked familiar. And as they came closer she recognised them. It was Jim Hawkins and his son William. While not actually knowing the man and his son she had seen them in Gladstone where they had been pointed out to her. There was a daughter too, and a mysterious wife who no one had ever seen, so the gossips said in Gladstone.
Mrs Langley couldn’t see the two women who sat behind the men as the wagon pulled up at the front gate. She stepped down off the verandah onto the steps and then to the ground, her heart was beating faster, she felt the dampness in her eyes and a lump in her throat.
The men climbed from the wagon saying nothing as they helped the women down. It was the young woman who turned and looked at her first. Mrs Langley recognised her as the woman from the funereal, the one that looked like her Lillian. Her eyes were fixed on the older woman.
The older woman walked towards her, Mrs Langley felt the tears rolling down her cheeks as she watched her daughter, watched her walk somewhat awkwardly with the walking stick, saw the scars on her face, the closed eye, but there was no hiding the smile and the delight, the happiness on her face. She stopped a couple of paces in front of her. They both stared at each other. The two women stepped forward and embraced.
“I would have come back sooner, Mother, except I feared Robert, feared what he might do to my family.”
“It doesn't matter now,” she said, hugging her daughter tightly. Reluctantly, she let go, wiped her eyes with her handkerchief and then said, "You had better introduce me to your family.
Lillian turned with a tear in her one good eye. “This is my husband, Jim.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Langley,” said Jim, nodding his head to her.
“I am pleased to meet you, Mr Hawkins. I have heard a lot about you.”
“This is William,” said Lillian.
William, suddenly remembering his manners, removed his hat and looked at his grandmother rather sheepishly and said nothing.
“I fine looking young man,” said Mrs Langley as her eyes quickly shifted to Matilda, admiring her beauty.
Lillian watched her mother’s eyes and the wave of pleasure on her face as she stared at Matilda. “She looks like me when I was her age.”
“When I saw her at the funeral I thought she was a ghost,” said Mrs Langley, stepping forward and hugging her granddaughter.
“My name is Matilda.”
“How appropriate,” said Mrs Langley, smiling to herself and silently thanking God for sending her daughter back home.
The End
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