As cartloads of earth were lugged away by the Clydesdales, Paul began to notice that the air he sucked into his lungs stung less. As rooms and passages grew he was able to breathe more easily, and he became more enthused.
‘I want a spiral staircase,’ he said, ‘up to the house! I want a dining room, a sitting room and a hallway!’
That was when the men realised he wasn’t digging for gold at all, he had some other mad plan to build a house under a house. They didn’t care what deranged thing he asked for, as long as it kept them in work.
More earth was lugged away.
‘I want a doorway with a glass pane directly out onto the garden, so we can take her straight out to wander among her mother’s grevilleas in the evening when it’s cooler.’
The men rolled their eyes and patted their pockets full of sovereigns.
‘I want it to duplicate the house upstairs except for the kitchen, as that is where the staircase is,’ he said and he dragged Laidlaw, who quickly threw off his boots, barefooted and muddy through the house to show him the layout and Laidlaw went down to tell the men they would be working through the night to change the walls they had already built. When the walls were built and Paul had approved them the men rendered them and then painted them with off white just like the walls upstairs.
When the walls were finished, timber flooring was laid, the electricals installed and then it was done — all in three weeks. It had taken longer than Paul had wanted as his plan kept growing, but now the result was exactly what he wished for.
On Monday 8 January the men said a sad goodbye to their good luck.
Paul had created an underground house as his last gift to Lucy. A sanctuary away from the summer with its suffocating heat and sweat and bushfires, each wall built with Paul’s longing and loss.
Paul looked at the miners standing around him, their faces filled with amazement at what they had created. As the enormity of what they had accomplished took root they started to congratulate themselves and Paul and shook everyone’s hands till they nearly fell off.
Congratulations done, Paul needed Beth, and found her in the kitchen washing preserving bottles.
‘Beth, you can look now,’ he said.
She dropped her tea towel. ‘Really?’
‘Most assuredly,’ he said, ‘Come on,’ and he took her outside into the garden and down the path they had cut that sloped down into the ground to the door of the underground house.
‘What am I looking at?’ she asked peering into blackness.
He pulled the cord and the electric lights flickered to life and he watched her face fill with wonder.
‘Bloody hell,’ she said. And then, ‘I’m sorry, sir.’
He laughed and it didn’t hurt his chest and he took her hand and led her down the steps and into a small entranceway, and then he took her through each of the rooms he had created.
‘I want you to clean it,’ he said. ‘Give it the best clean you have ever given anything in your life — make it gleam. Let me know when you have finished.’ He took her up the spiral staircase and opened the door they had built in at the top and she found herself looking at her own kitchen.
‘And I thought you were just putting in a pantry,’ she said.
‘Now I’ll wait while you clean downstairs for me.’
Paul paced in the garden, Gracie whimpering in his arms. The men sat on the grass enjoying the break and sharing smokes. Beth brought out a broom and mop for the floor and cloths for dusting and oil for the woodwork and a bucket of warm soapy water. She cleaned the underground house till it sparkled under the electric lights. She called Laidlaw when she needed the water changed and he brought her a fresh bucket, the soap suds bubbling over the top. An hour or so later Beth announced she had finished and Paul said, ‘Just wait, not much longer.’ So the men lit up new cigarettes and Beth got glasses of water for everyone and they waited in silence, awed by what Paul had created.
‘Ah, right on time,’ Paul said as horses pulled a cart piled with furniture up the drive. Edie came out at the sound of the horses; she expected they were delivering more building materials.
‘Can I see what you’ve done to our house?’ she asked.
‘Not quite,’ said Paul, passing Gracie to her.
Paul directed the men to carry the furniture into the underground house and showed them where each piece must go, directly under its mirror upstairs: a new bassinet, easy chairs, a bookshelf, a bed, a change table.
Paul walked through the rooms. Yes, it was perfect. Then he took Edie’s hand, ignoring her wide eyes and stunned face.
‘Follow me,’ he said, and with Gracie in her arms led her through his underground house. Immediately the coolness of the earth enveloped them and he felt Edie shiver. It was hard to believe it was so hot out and so cool down here. Paul walked to the bedroom that had been built directly under Lucy’s.
‘Go on,’ he said, ‘lay her down.’ She laid Gracie in the bassinet Paul had had the men put there in the cool, and at last the baby fell asleep.
Now his love letter was finished he said, ‘Okay, I’m going to call in this Nurse Drake. We’re ready for her now.’
Twelve
The Nurse
Wednesday, 10 January 1906, when Nurse Beatrix can’t believe her luck.
‘It’s a fact that lawyers and doctors are all richer than they
