IsobelThe clock rolled around to midday, and Isobel set out bread and cheese for them. Esther made tea and they sat around the table, but Isobel did not eat. The slop of pipis spilling from her throat and the burn of brandy had stripped her appetite. She watched as Esther ate and sipped tea, hiding the fact that she did not eat by talking about the sewing they were to take back to Queen Street.
She had not responded to Esther’s remark about accompanying her to the South Island to see the land. Her thoughts were elsewhere and it was difficult to focus. She could only think of the baby and what the land papers might mean. Owning land might give Esther hope, and she might want to keep the child.
She knew land still had power. She’d overheard some steerage emigrants on the boat out to New Ze
