Truly, Madly, Deeply. Romantic Novelist's Association

hostel, which was crowded with people waiting to board the ship.

      She was dreading the medical examination. Her new underwear wasn’t ragged or dirty but it was an older woman’s sensible flannel clothing, washed until it was grey and matted. She should be glad of it but with better food, vanity had returned. She hated to see her gaunt face and dull hair in the mirror. She looked years older than her age.

      Most of the other women were haggard and some didn’t look respectable. A few even had the cropped hair of women coming out of prison.

      Sarah saw a young woman from their group beckoning to her from the corner where there were four bunks. She hesitated but soon went across to join the woman and her two companions. They looked better fed than most and proved to be sisters.

      ‘I’m Sarah,’ she said to the one nearest.

      ‘I’m Pandora Blake. These are my sisters: Maia and Xanthe.’

      Maia was weeping, mopping up the tears with a handkerchief, then having to use it again.

      From what she overheard during the next few hours, Sarah realised the sisters had been forced to go to Australia by an aunt and were leaving behind a much loved older sister, for whose life they feared.

      ‘I have no one,’ she said when they asked about her family.

      But she had hope now, shining brightly in her heart.

      The medical examination took place the next morning: quick but still embarrassing. Then Sarah was sent to wait in the yard.

      Some lads were there waiting for their father, and when two of them got into a fight, she took it upon herself to separate them.

      ‘What will your mother say if you tear your clothes?’ she scolded. ‘You want to look your best when you board the ship.’

      ‘The Mammy died,’ the older boy muttered. ‘And Da’s taking us to Australia. I don’t want to go.’

      ‘I do,’ the younger boy said

      ‘Well, I don’t! I won’t have any friends in Australia.’

      A man came across to join them. ‘I hope my boys weren’t giving you any trouble?’

      ‘No, but they were quarrelling and needed settling down.’

      He turned to glare at them. ‘Did I not tell you to behave yourselves?’

      They scuffed their feet and stared at the ground.

      He turned back to Sarah, sighing. ‘Thank you for your help, ma’am.’

      Just then there was a disturbance by the gate. As he turned to see who it was, his face turned pale. ‘Dear God, the master’s sent his bailiff after us.’

      Sarah looked at him quickly. ‘What did you do?’

      ‘Left the estate after my wife died instead of marrying a woman the landowner chose.’

      Sarah saw the desperation on his face. She knew how arrogant some employers could be and her heart went out to him. ‘You could pretend I’m your wife. He won’t have any use for you then.’

      He stared at her. ‘Are you sure? Thank you.’

      ‘My name’s Sarah Boswick.’

      ‘Mine’s Ellis Doyle.’

      ‘Put your arm round my shoulders and look affectionate. Rory, in this game I’m your new mother. Come and stand next to me.’

      ‘I want to go back,’ Kevin said.

      ‘And have Mary Riley for your mother?’

      Kevin hesitated then went to his father’s side.

      By the time the constable got to them, they were standing as a family group.

      ‘This is Doyle,’ the bailiff said. ‘He’s running away from the woman he promised to marry. Mr Colereigh wants him back.’

      Ellis seemed to be fumbling for words, so Sarah spoke for him. ‘Well, he can’t marry anyone else. He’s married to me.’

      ‘There hasn’t been time.’

      ‘We bought a special licence.’

      ‘I’d not have come back, even if I hadn’t married Sarah,’ Ellis said. ‘And there’s no law that says I have to.’

      The bailiff leaned forward. ‘What if the master said you’d stolen some money? You don’t have enough for a special licence.’

      ‘You never said anything about stolen money,’ the supervisor said, looking suspiciously from the bailiff to Doyle.

      ‘It was my money that bought the special licence,’ Sarah said. ‘It took every penny I had. He had none left from paying the fares.’

      Ellis put his arm round her and pulled her close. ‘Even if you forced me to go back, I couldn’t marry Mary Riley now, could I?’

      Everything hung in the balance for a moment or two, then the bailiff stepped back. ‘I’d not marry her either. It’d be better if I tell him I couldn’t find you. Don’t ever come back, though.’

      They watched him walk away, then Sarah realised Ellis was still holding her close. She didn’t dare move until the bailiff was out of sight. And she didn’t want to move either. She’d missed the feel of a man’s strong arm round her shoulders.

      Ellis moved away. ‘Your quick thinking saved us. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.’

      ‘He didn’t ask to see the marriage lines. He could have proved us wrong.’

      ‘No. He’s not a bad fellow but if he wants to keep his job and home, he has to do as he’s told.’

      Rory tugged at her skirt. ‘Are you really our new mother?’

      ‘No. We were just pretending. But I can be your new friend.’ Her eyes sought Ellis’s for permission and he nodded.

       4

      As they stood there, Ellis cleared his throat. ‘Um, I probably need to go and see the supervisor and explain to him that we aren’t really married. Will you keep an eye on these two rascals for a few moments?’

      ‘Of course.’

      But suddenly the supervisor came striding back into the yard. He walked across to Sarah and Ellis, scowling. ‘I want the truth now. Are you two married or not?’

      ‘No, we’re not,’ Ellis said in his lilting Irish voice.

      ‘Well, you’ll need to get married if you want to travel as a family.’ The supervisor studied the children. ‘Looks to me as if these two need a mother’s care.’

      Sarah could feel her cheeks burning because she’d had a sudden fervent wish that she was married again. She was so tired of being alone, fending for herself.

      The supervisor looked at her disapprovingly. ‘We don’t allow any hanky-panky on board, Miss. They’re very strict about that sort of thing.’

      ‘I’m a widow, not a “Miss”.’

      ‘It’s not hanky-panky to be courting someone,’ Ellis told him. ‘And that’s what we’re doing, courting.’ He put the arm back round her shoulders.

      It felt good.

      The supervisor’s voice softened. ‘Oh, it’s like that, is it? Well, I’ll have to report this but no one can stop you talking to one another on deck.’

      He walked away and Ellis turned to Sarah. ‘I had to say something to save your good name.’

      ‘I’m really grateful. But…we’ll have to meet and talk to one another or