“I went for a job interview today, and then when I got here, I found Lilian’s journal hidden in the cellar wall.”
Matt blinked. “What?” He thought she was happy on the tour boat. Was the new job somewhere else? Was she moving?
“There was a loose brick in the cellar and I found a cavity behind it. Lilian’s journal was wrapped inside a tin along with the journal from a Dutch East Indies captain from the sixteen hundreds. Lilian mentions run ins with your ancestors.”
Matt’s head spun with questions, but before he could ask any, Georgie continued.
“Lara insisted we read the whole journal before she went to bed.”
He smiled. “Of course.” But damned if he was disappointed he hadn’t been there for it. “Did Lilian say anything interesting?”
“A lot. Turns out we’re not descendants of an English lord after all. He was killed in the mutiny and a Fenian prisoner stole his identity. So I have Irish convict ancestry.” She chuckled softly. “Maybe Charlie was a throwback.”
Matt stared at her, but in the dark he couldn’t see her face and whether she was kidding. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. But there’s more.” She lowered her voice. “The treasure rumours are true too.”
Matt leaned back. “What do you mean?”
“Just what I said,” Georgie answered. “The Dutch East Indies ship was wrecked a century earlier in the gulf and it carried treasure, but only the captain was aware of it. Reginald got hold of the journal somehow and discovered the wreck after the Retribution had come to grief on the island. He found a small chest of treasure, but Lilian realised most of it had been buried and when she returned to the island, she found it and split it between herself and the three Fenian prisoners.” Georgie twisted her finger in her hair. “She and John didn’t need the money so buried it for later. We don’t know if it’s still there, or whether they used it during their time setting up the station.”
It was quite a tale, but Georgie was too agitated for it to be a lie. “So, where is it buried?” The funds would be a lifesaver for the Ridge.
“We can’t figure it out,” Georgie answered. “We’re going to study the clues tomorrow.”
Matt could imagine Lara’s excitement. She was probably lying awake, staring at the ceiling, imagining finding the treasure. Darcy would have had his hands full getting her to bed at all. He smiled. “Are you too excited to sleep too?”
She shrugged. “Not really. It would be a miracle if it was still there.”
She sounded glum, and Georgie was rarely glum. He could always count on her to be optimistic or to snap back at him if he felt like poking her. Rarely was she defeated. “Then what’s wrong?”
Georgie sighed and looked at him. “Can you imagine how excited Charlie would have been?”
Matt grimaced. His best friend in primary school was never far from his mind. They’d spent their childhood roaming the Ridge and whenever Matt worked, he thought of Charlie. “He’d be out there now with a torch and a shovel,” he said. “There’d be no waiting for morning for him.”
Georgie nodded. “It’s times like this when it hits me hard how much he’s missed.”
Such a tragic accident. Charlie had died at twelve in a cattle stampede when the Stokes were trialling cattle instead of sheep. Needless to say, they’d stuck with sheep.
Matt slid his arm around Georgie’s shoulders and she leaned into him. So simple, yet her trust and the fact he could comfort her made him feel so good about himself. He stroked her arm. After Charlie’s death, he’d grown closer to her. She’d been all of nine and he’d been thirteen, but they’d come together in their grief. He’d felt lost and his steps had kept carrying him back to the homestead and the Ridge as if Charlie would magically appear. Charlie had made school bearable.
The Stokes had always been the most warm and welcoming family but after Charlie’s death his parents were lost in their own grief. Matt and Georgie had comforted each other over those first few months.
He’d told her about the bullies at school who wouldn’t leave him alone now Charlie wasn’t there to stick up for him. Jerry, in particular, had made his life hell. He took every opportunity to make a snide comment, to put him down, tell him he was stupid. One day he’d even locked Matt in a storeroom and told the teachers he was wagging school. Matt had spent the last period in the small dark space, banging on the door for someone to let him out, but outside no one went past. He’d thought he would be stuck in there the entire weekend.
It was lucky the football team had had training after school, and the sports teacher had let him out. Matt had run all the way to the front of the school so he didn’t miss the bus home.
Come Monday, no one had asked him how he’d got stuck in the storeroom in the first place, so Jerry had got away with it.
Matt had counted the days until he was old enough to leave and then asked Bill Stokes to give him a job as a station hand. Bill had agreed and he’d moved out here permanently and become part of the family. By then Brandon had been long gone and he and Darcy had become best friends as they’d worked side by side.
Georgie trembled and he shook off the tension of the memory, his focus on her.
“It’s not fair, Matt.” Her voice was full of tears. “First Charlie, then Mum and Dad.” The next words came out as a whisper. “I cursed him.”
“What?”
“I cursed Charlie after he scared me with a fake spider. Not long afterwards, he was dead.”
