Charles
picked up his pen to write to his wife.
It had been a year since he had come to Van Diemen’s Land as a bounty
immigrant. His skill as a carpenter was
not put to good use. Mr Ritchie had him
pulling weeds most days and by the end of two months he had had enough.
Looking back Charles realised he probably
shouldn’t have gotten in with the two ex cons he met in Perth, but a night on
the drink wasn’t going to kill anyone.
It did however see him being charged for larceny and sent down to New
Town Bay; building roads made weed pulling feel like child’s play.
Now to tell
Elizabeth why he had no money to send her or to pay for her and the girls to
come out and join him. The thought had
crossed his mind that he could just stop writing altogether and let her and the
girls think him dead. She had family and
friends, she wouldn’t be any worse off than she is now. She could even find a new husband after a
time. In fact he could find himself a
new wife and start again once he was away from this blasted chain gang.
He just
needed to put his head down, keep out of trouble and bide his time until he
was free again. Charles put down his pen and walked away from
the table. Elizabeth would be better off
at home than out here anyway.
