A young Scotsman travels to Australia in 1885, armed with ambition and the dream of owning land. He makes a lot of money droving horses overland in Queensland. He travels hundreds of miles over uncharted territory with up to 30 horses in his charge, and encounters dangers along the way. He could not have known that evil lurked in the bush. As he is about to realise his dream, fate takes a hand. This is the true story of his life - and death.
Excerpt
PROLOGUE
Glasgow Scotland, 1863
Blood splattered the walls of the grimy tenement flat as the petite, brown-haired woman was punched from one wall to another by a large drunken man. A sixteen-year-old boy, his face pallid from undernourishment and lack of sunlight, watched in horror from behind a torn curtain, as he had done since he was a small child. When the beating stopped, the man undid his trousers, straddled the woman and took her by force. It was over in a matter of seconds. When the man was spent he lay on his back on the stained blanket that covered the bed, then reached for what was left in the bottle of cheap whisky he had brought with him, and took a long swig. The woman picked up the six pennies that he had placed on a table beside the bottle, in payment for her services. The enraged man jumped from the bed and lashed out at her again, calling her names and beating her once more across her face.
The boy sprang from his hiding place, grabbed a poker from the fireplace and bashed the man across the back of the head. He fell to the ground and the boy, now in a rage, continued to hit him on the back of his head until the man stopped moving.
When the frenzied attack was over, the boy looked at his mother then back at the pool of blood on the tattered old carpet. He dropped the poker and ran his hands through his greasy red hair.
His mother was still grasping the coins that she had earned in the only way she knew that would put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads. A woman of her age, although just thirty-two, could not command the same price as when she had started selling her body seventeen years before, doing what many uneducated girls had to do. She placed the pennies on the bed, then opened a small cupboard in the corner of the room and took out a little wooden chest. She slowly, almost hesitantly, lifted the lid and took out several coins and notes. Then she searched the man’s pockets and removed a one pound note and two shillings. She set aside enough to pay for her next week’s rent and some food, then gathered the remaining notes and coins together and thrust them into her son’s hand.
“Get yersel’ away from here as fast as you can,” she said. The boy just stared at the dead man on the floor. “Never heed this mess – I can find somebody to take out this rubbish.”
The boy stood still. “I’ve seen it too many times,” he finally said, remembering all the years he had watched men use and abuse his mother. “I feel no guilt. I am glad he is dead.”
With the back of her hand his mother wiped the blood that was trickling from her nose. Her body had been running on adrenaline, but now that the shock was wearing off she felt faint and put out a hand to steady herself before lowering her bruised and battered body on to the bed.
“Sadly son, there will be others – but you’ve no need to watch it any more,” she said softly as she clung to the bedpost. “There is no hope of me ever escaping this hell, but you can have a chance in life, a chance to be someone, to be respectable.”
She looked at the money in her son’s hand.
“Take this money and leave Glasgow - leave Scotland. The polis will be after you if they find out what ye’ve done. Away wi’ ye now,” she said with a flourish of her bruised and blood-stained hand.
The boy acted quickly. He knew that this was his ticket to freedom. He had no possessions other than one change of clothes. He put the money, which totalled a reasonable sum of four pounds, into his trouser pocket, gathered his spare clothes into a bundle and looked once more at the body at his feet.
“On ye go,” his mother cautioned. The bruising around her eyes had worsened from the beating she had sustained, and one eye was almost closed. “I have pals who can dispose of this waster. The Clyde is full o’ filth like him. No one will be any the wiser.”
She held her aching head in both hands. “I ken I’ve no’ done right by you all these years – but I kept you, didn’t I? I gave you life and it’s up to you now what you do with that life. I’ve saved some of my pennies as best I could, and if it means you can gain respectability then it was worth every punch over the years.”
The woman gathered all the strength she had left and slowly rose to her feet.
“Promise me Harvey, that you will take this chance to move up in the world and make somethin’ of yersel’. Naebody is worth anythin’ in this life unless they have money. People look up to them that has money.”
The boy didn’t kiss his mother goodbye. He felt pity for her, and even protective of her, but he didn’t feel love. He rarely displayed any emotion. He opened the door and without a backward glance he was gone. He walked, sometimes ran, the twenty odd miles to the port of Greenock, loitered around the docks and stowed away on the first ship he could find, not caring where it would take him so long as it was away from the grim life he had known in Glasgow. He had little education and no trade, but he had become adept at the art of bluff, even drawing in customers for his mother when she had lost the beauty and allure that had once brought men to their door.
He would use the money his mother had given him to start over, learn a trade and set himself up as a man of means. He was off to find a new life. He was bound for Australia.
Professional Reviews
A window into 1800's Australia
5.0 out of 5 stars
A window into 1880’s Australia
ByA Lockwoodon October 14, 2017
Format: Kindle Edition
I read the undertaker by this writer, which I loved as it was set in Scotland and the historic background was meticulously researched. Apart from that, it was a great read so I was keen to read something by this writer again. I was not disappointed. It is clear the writer has a great love for Scotland and its history, as she has set the start of this story in the very north of Scotland. William’s journey from 1885 the north of Scotland all the way to Brisbane Australian is as harrowing (the conditions on board the ship) as it is fascinating.
William McDonald the hero of our story, we are told in the foreword was a real person that was murdered in the Australian outback. Both his story and the story of his murderer are chronicled. Knowing the ending of a book is normally a big let-down when reading a book, but in this case the story was fascinating enough to not let it spoil my reading pleasure. It was a great window into 1880’s Australia and the dangers and hardships the early pioneers experienced. William McDonald died young, but is a perfect example of one of those pioneers that made Australia the place it is today; a modern prosperous country. Recommended.
Vivid descriptions, finely detailed characters
5.0 out of 5 stars
Vivid descriptions, finely detailed characters
ByShaunak Agarkhedkaron October 8, 2017
Format: Kindle Edition
I've never been to either Scotland or Australia. But the vivid picture Carmel paints of a bleak Scotland contrasted so wonderfully by sunny Australia, both in terms of the climate and the protagonist's economic prospects, actually took me to those places. She got me to feel sorry for the villain, then got me to be disgusted by him, and finally, as the story drew to its conclusion, she somehow made me share in his emptiness.
But all throughout, I found myself rooting for William McDonald. His enthusiasm for the sunshine of Australia was infectious, and I now find myself looking forward to a vacation there in some December in the future. Without spending too many words on descriptions, Carmel has managed to create such finely detailed characters that they're etched in memory. I really enjoyed reading this book. After hearing me describe the plot, my wife has begun reading it on her kindle too. Kudos, Carmel.
Responding to Ronald Hull's comment. The excerpt I have provided is a Prologue - that is, something which has relevance to the story but is separate from the main story. There is another figure that looms large in the book and this is about him. I provided this excerpt as it is a teaser to get prospective buyers interested. I think if you read the book you will enjoy how the character in the excerpt is weaved into William's story.
I love historic fiction. And fiction based on true events is some of the best. History shouldn't be romanticized or elevated from what it really was. In many cases, very difficult and brutal when compared to today.
Your prologue reads like a first chapter. The 16-year-old boy, William McDonald, did what so many in those days did stowed away on any ship he could. I only wonder why you stated where he was going so quickly in the prologue. I think you could have waited a little longer for that mystery to unfold while well out to sea.
You certainly got my interest with your fine writing.
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Based on the memoirs of a Pearl Harbor survivor. Letters from two pen pals take the reader on a journey into the past, a past where nightmares came true, and when hatred reigned.
Tralee, Ireland. September 1948.
An arrogant, and highly agitated, priest arrives home after 40 years.
Days later he's dead. Suicide? Or did his past catch up with him?
