Elizabeth was cleaning and dabbing liniment on the new cuts around his face, where most of the former bruising had faded, when they saw Mr and Mrs Carson drive across the creek in their new sulky. ‘Well, I’m not surprised they’re here. You can apologise now.’
‘But Ma — he started it.’
‘Then you should have told us that, when it happened, and we could have reported it. I daresay you thought this was smarter. Paying them back.’ In her indignation at his behaviour, she was far from gentle with the dressing.
‘Ouch. That stings.’
‘Serves you right. We already have a war — the other side of the world. We don’t need one in this valley, thank you very much.’ The Carsons pulled up in front of the house.
They had been neighbours for some years now, and while not close, were on comparatively friendly terms. Stefan and Elizabeth had helped them when they first arrived, using their delivery service, and encouraging others to do the same. The Carsons had improved their herd, and their dairy was now profitable. They no longer had to deliver mail or goods, but had always asserted they were grateful for those early years.
They did not appear grateful now. Both stepped down from the sulky and came uninvited onto the verandah.
Stefan shrugged apologetically, trying to make the best of it. ‘Sorry about this,’ he said.
‘You will be, Muller,’ Mr Carson replied, and pointed at Carl. ‘Your kid was the bloody ringleader.’
His wife stared with open dislike at Elizabeth.
‘Patching him up, are you, Mrs Muller? Well, that makes you a party to this.’
‘A party to it?’ Elizabeth could feel the personal hostility, and was stunned by it.
‘We’ve had the doctor,’ Mrs Carson announced. ‘Now I think we should call the police.’
‘I’m sorry. Was your son badly hurt?’ Carl glanced at his mother, puzzled. Her voice was surprisingly courteous.
‘We’d hardly be here if he wasn’t.’
‘As badly as mine was, weeks ago, when they all set on him?’ She was still frigidly polite. ‘Eight of them, I think it was.’
‘Nine,’ Carl said.
‘They kicked him when he was down. We had the doctor, too. If you want the police, I think we’d agree. Don’t you, Stefan?’
‘Definitely. I’ll send for them if you wish,’ Stefan said.
There was a momentary hiatus. They had not expected this, and there was a hint of apprehension as they exchanged glances.
‘Very funny,’ Mrs Carson said, unamused.
‘It’s not the least funny,’ Elizabeth said as imperiously as she could. ‘Why don’t you tell your lout to stop this behaviour …’
‘Lout?’
The Carsons were outraged, but Elizabeth took no notice. ‘And I’ll tell mine the same. Tell yours not to call mine a German spy. Advise him my son was born here — as I was — and my father was. Now get off my verandah, go home and tell him.’
Mrs Carson took a pace backward, but her husband was not so easily dismissed. His face was flushed and threatening.
‘I’ll tell you one thing, Missus fancy-face Muller. You mob better watch your step.’
‘Us mob, Mr Carson? Who exactly are “us mob”?’
‘Anyone with a German name. Ain’t you heard? I could have you arrested?’
‘Get off our land,’ Stefan told him.
‘Read the papers, Muller. The real papers, not your German rag. We could have you in gaol.’
He grinned, and for the first time Stefan felt uneasy. Carson and his wife walked to their horse and sulky. They climbed in. Mrs Carson took the reins. Her husband looked at them and spat. ‘Remember what I said. In gaol — any time we like.’
Stefan and Elizabeth watched them drive away. Carl put an arm around his mother, and laughed.
‘Ma, you were wonderful. You told the old cow.’
‘I don’t want another word from you,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Go away and try to learn some sense. Don’t you dare ever put us in this position again.’
‘But Ma …’ He was shocked at her anger.
‘No more retaliation. No stupidity. Have your supper, then go down to Gerhardt’s. See if he knows what on earth they are talking about.’
‘Have us arrested?’ Stefan said. They’re both crazy. They must be.’
The village church was crowded, but there were no children present. No organist, nor prayer books. The Lutheran Pastor stood at the door in welcome, but he was not in his robes. Eventually, when he felt that everyone was present, he closed the door and locked it. In the experience of most of those present, it was the first time the church doors had ever been locked.
The Pastor went to the pulpit. He surprised them by speaking in English.
‘Please be seated. I cannot speak to you in German, except for saying Lutheran prayers. From today the use of German in public places is, by government decree, declared unpatriotic and illegal.’
A shock wave of disbelief ran through the church. It turned to perplexity, as the Pastor stood aside, and Gerhardt Lippert occupied the pulpit. He took from his pocket an Adelaide newspaper. He waited until the murmurs had stopped, and there was silence. He also spoke in English.
‘This is a sad day. A terrible day. I feel ashamed to stand here and read you this. But I must. You should all be cautioned of what is happening here. Of what may happen to anyone of us.’
He put on his spectacles, and read from the newspaper.
The government has proclaimed the War Precautions Act, under which anyone of German origin may, on the accusation of any loyal Australian, be taken into police custody and questioned.’
There was a stirring, a sound of collective bewilderment and doubt, as if none of them could quite credit what they had heard.
‘Furthermore, if the circumstances warrant, and the authorities so choose, such persons may be liable to arrest and committed to gaol without trial.’
In the appalled silence there was a growing sense of outrage.
Elizabeth reached for Stefan’s hand and held it tightly. No, she thought. Surely this could not be happening. There was some mistake, there must be.
TWENTY FIVE
Everyone is going raving mad, William thought, as he watched a troop of ill-clad recruits drill in the park opposite. None had complete uniforms. Few had rifles, and in response to the sergeant’s shouted orders, the majority sloped and presented arms with broom handles.
The rush to enlist had taken the authorities by surprise.
Quartermaster’s stores could not cope with the unexpected demand. The arms manufacturers were engaged in supplying the major combatants, and it was beyond imagination that an outpost of the Empire (a country only fourteen years old and prior to that a mere collection of colonies) would generate such a stream of volunteers. In early November, with the war a bare three months old, thirty-six packed troopships escorted by three naval cruisers left to emotional scenes of excited enthusiasm. OUR BOYS ARE SAILING OUT TO GLORY, trumpeted a local newspaper.
War fever grew. Enlistments increased with each month. More troopships sailed. Sydney newspapers railed against German wool buyers living in houses overlooking the harbour, demanding such nests of spies be raided. Society women became Red Cross organisers. They called on the women of Australia to knit socks and bake cakes for freedom.
There was joy when the German cruiser Emden was sunk but concern Australian troops were not yet in action, being diverted to Egypt for training, when it was expected they would be landing in triumph to support the British in France.
William stood and watched the recruits for a few moments.
Their drill was ragged, and the sergeant with his parade-ground voice was not averse to telling them so.
‘We do ‘ave a lot to learn, don’t we?’ he bellowed. ‘The only way you’ll win the war is if the hun sees you trying to slope arms. He might die laughing.’
The men were of all ages, some as young as Harry. He knew many young boys had signed up
, especially from country towns. A great deal of pressure was exerted there by recruiting rallies, giving the local males little choice; volunteer to go, or be branded as shirkers.
William left the novice army to their drill sergeant, who was telling them to use their imaginations, and think of their broomsticks as deadly rifles, and if they were really clever, to think of themselves as soldiers, instead of a motley band of no-hopers. He walked on towards the pond, where he would meet Hannah.
Many bizarre things had happened the past few months, he reflected. A school of humpback whales off the coast had been reported as a squadron of German submarines, and rumours of a raid had swept the city. The price of harbour side and beach front homes had dropped radically because of fear of invasion. In the windows of popular music stores, Steinways and other German pianos were all removed by official order. Orchestral concerts avoided playing the works of Beethoven, Mahler and others considered enemy composers.
Meanwhile, the Department of Defence considered the idea of arming the troops with stockwhips, and building bayonets shaped like boomerangs, so they could come back. The rate of pay for Australian troops — six shillings a day — was criticised by King George V as being excessive for private soldiers. The Ministry of Food and Health decided that processed meat could no longer be called ‘German sausage’.
Less ridiculous things had also occurred.
Enemy aliens were interned without trial. Billy Hughes, the Welsh-born attorney-general, passed laws giving the government alarming powers. He imposed rigid censorship. In the universities, students were abandoning their studies to join up. William knew Harry had already discussed this with many of his friends including David Brahm, and was grateful that Brahm was firmly dedicated to finishing his medical degree, and had temporarily diverted his grandson’s apparent urge to wear a uniform.
They had already had several confrontations on the issue. ‘Not until you’re twenty-one,’ William had told him.
‘But, Grandfather — it’ll be over by then.’
‘I hope so. Now please, let’s drop the subject.’
But the matter would be raised again — if he knew Harry.
As William neared the pond, he noticed a crowd gathered there. A loud voice shouted through a megaphone. A figure hung from what seemed to be an improvised gallows. He saw Hannah sitting waiting for him on a park bench, perceived her discomfort, and hurried towards her.
A spruiker had set up his own sideshow. A busy, cajoling man, he held a dummy bayonet in one hand, while he harangued the crowd that had gathered; mostly young men and girls.
‘C’mon, step up. Get a jerry. Kill a German swine. Only a penny a go. Look at him, ‘orrible ‘un. Bleedin’ Kaiser Bill.’
The hanging figure comprised bloated sacking filled with straw. Above the obese body the face was a crude painted replica of an ape with a steel German helmet.
‘Come on, boys, show yer sheilas what yer made of. Only a penny to stick him in the guts. Win a prize if you get the target, and hit him fair in his navel base.’
There was laughter, as he incited young men to test their mettle. Hannah rose, clearly distressed as William reached her. ‘Thank God. I wanted to leave, but I thought you might worry where I’d gone. Please let’s get out of here.’
The spruiker had failed to induce anyone to step up, and saw William put a protective arm around her. They were older, and of a different status to the audience he had collected, so he decided on a new tack. Anything to get the crowd on his side, and fill his pockets.
‘What’s up, Missus?’ he called.
Attention turned towards them, and Hannah tried to ignore him, but this was too good an opportunity for self-promotion. ‘Don’t like the show? Got an auntie or uncle over there in the Fatherland, ‘ave we? We’re at war, ain’t we?’
‘Yes, we’re at war,’ Hannah said loud and clearly, so they could all hear. ‘But that doesn’t mean we have to behave like animals.’
‘Who’re you calling an animal? You better take her home,’ he said to William. ‘Come on lads, step forward and shove a bayonet up the Kaiser. Show the silly bitch what you’re made of.’
‘You,’ William said, and his voice was like ice. A man on his way forward to accept the challenge froze and changed his mind. ‘Something got up your snout has it, old codger?’
‘That’s correct. You and your sleazy sideshow, you’ve got well and truly up my snout, you nasty bullying, insulting turd.’
‘Ere. That’s nice, that is, using disgusting language like that in a public park.’
‘Since this is a public park, and you’re trying to obtain money from these people, I hope you have a permit to operate here?’
‘Wait on, mate,’ the spruiker said, sensing trouble.
‘I won’t wait on, and I’m certainly not your mate,’ William told him. ‘If you and your revolting show aren’t out of this park in five minutes, I’m sending for the police.’
‘Bit of fun, that’s all,’ the man said. ‘There’s a war on.’
‘Then why don’t you join up,’ William said, ‘and do your bit for your country.’
Some of the crowd jeered and made ribald comments. William ignored them. He took Hannah’s arm and they walked away. Through the sleeve of her silk dress, he could feel her shuddering.
Mrs Forbes brought them tea when they arrived home. She had hurriedly made some sandwiches, and for the first time in many years, seemed flustered.
‘Shall I pour, sir?’
‘It’s all right, thanks, Mrs Forbes. I think Miss Lockwood can manage.’
‘Yes, sir.’ She bobbed to Hannah. ‘Miss — er — Ma’am.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Forbes,’ Hannah said. ‘Such short notice. It’s very kind of you.’
Mrs Forbes went back through the labyrinth of passageways to their quarters, where her husband was engrossed in the newspaper.
‘Look at this. Our troops still stuck in the desert. Training. Makes you wonder why they took ‘em there in such a hurry.’
‘Never mind the war,’ his wife said. ‘She’s good looking. And nice. You never told me she was nice.’
‘I only ever saw her the once, didn’t I? Years ago. The time Mrs Patterson had her accident. I was trying not to look.’
‘Why?’
‘It was embarrassing. It was daytime, but she had on a nightgown, and — what are they doing in there?’
‘Having tea,’ Mrs Forbes said, as if it was a silly question.
David and Harry left the tram, and walked home past the pavilions of the Sydney Cricket Ground.
‘Have you heard any more from my sister?’
‘Nothing — not for weeks.’
‘We had a letter yesterday.’
David Brahm seemed ill at ease, and Harry wondered why.
Players in white flannels were at practice in the nets. They both waved to one they knew, who played first grade for the university. ‘You know she’s going to be seventeen,’ David said.
‘I know.’
‘Well, she’s growing up. I mean — nearly a woman. What I’m trying to say is, I think she’s met someone.’
‘I’d better go,’ Hannah said. They were on the terrace, where she was admiring the roses.
‘No hurry. I want to show you around. Stay and meet Harry, and later on Forbes can drive you home.’
She thought about it, and smiled. ‘You mean like a real visitor?
Respectable?’
‘Why not?’ William said. ‘It’s time we were.’
‘Are we by any chance, talking about that same old thing? The matter we agreed not to talk about?’ she asked.
‘Certainly not. We had an unpleasant experience in the park, and I invited you home to tea. Now I want you to see my garden.’
‘Then I accept your kind offer. And if Forbes should drive me home later, that makes it eminently respectable.’
‘And perhaps we could even do this again — in a day or two,’ he said innocently. ‘Next time you might co
me for lunch.’
She laughed. ‘You’re a wicked bugger, Willie. You’re making overtures.’
‘Thoroughly respectable ones.’
‘Devious ones. You’re machiavellian. Always have been.’
‘Don’t shower me with compliments, Hannah. Just agree to come to lunch — the day after tomorrow.’
They were both laughing, when Harry walked up the driveway and saw them. William beckoned him.
‘Harry, it’s time you met. This is Hannah.’
He seemed under a strain, and upset. Hannah smiled and offered her hand. Harry took it without a smile, but nodded politely.
‘Miss Lockwood,’ he said. ‘Excuse me, won’t you?’
‘Don’t run off, old chap,’ William said. ‘We’re about to do a tour of the garden. Won’t take long.’
‘Sorry, Grandfather. I have to study for exams tomorrow.’
He nodded once more to Hannah, seemed as if he was about to add something, but turned away instead and went inside the house.
Later, Forbes brought the limousine to the front of the house. William kissed Hannah goodbye, a conventional kiss on the cheek, reminded her she was coming to lunch, and waved as the car left. Then he went inside, to confront his grandson.
He tried to tell himself he would not shout, but could already feel his temper rising. Upstairs, he tapped on the door that had once been Elizabeth’s room and was now Harry’s, but there was no answer. He opened it and went inside. Harry seemed not to have heard him enter. He was at the window, gazing out, as if there was something of importance there. William stood alongside his grandson, before he began to realise he had intruded on some private sorrow.
‘That was a lie, of course,’ Harry said. ‘I’m not studying. And there are no exams tomorrow.’
‘I just wanted you to meet.’ William spoke quietly, his former anger extinguished by the unmistakable signs of distress. ‘I was rude. It was unforgivable.’
‘What’s up, old lad?’
‘Something silly, Grandpa. Bound to happen, I suppose.’
‘Anything to do with Kate Brahm?’ he asked carefully. ‘Seems as if — well, it was inevitable. I expect she’ll write and tell me, eventually. Kate’s very straight.’
A Bitter Harvest Page 26