The Fringe Dwellers

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The Fringe Dwellers Page 27

by Nene Gare


  She did not, though, improve as everyone had hoped. She had too little resistance.

  Occasionally Mrs Comeaway tiptoed in to pay a visit. More often she applied directly to Noonah for news, her awe of her surroundings making any contact with the nursing staff a thing to be dreaded. If Noonah had not been here she would have overcome her dread and perhaps obstructed the nursing with her suspicions and doubts. That had happened before where coloured children were concerned. But Noonah was here. Mrs Comeaway had perfect confidence in her daughter, if not in medical practitioners.

  Each time she came she brought little parcels of food—big stripey all-day suckers, round hard rainbow balls, a package of chocolate cream biscuits or little bottles of Coca-Cola. There were quick visits from Hannie and Blanchie and even from Audrena. Bartie sent with his mother all the things most precious to him—a water-colour of waves, his game of snakes and ladders, a tiny dressed doll in a box, bought with money intended for an easel. And, behind the stone wall at the back of the hotel, Horace dispensed first-hand news to all who sought it. It took more than a nursing staff to awe Horace.

  Only Trilby did not come. Still sunk in depression, she was miserably sure that nobody would believe in her concern for her small sister. The blame for this was hers, she knew that. She had never had much time for Stella when the child was well. It was too much to expect that Stella would want her now that she was ill.

  Yet Stella did want her sister. The baby that Trilby had been going to bring home was still in her thoughts. Neither Trilby nor anyone else had given her enough of an explanation to satisfy her. She wanted to know. She asked in her thready little voice for Trilby, who must surely know what had happened to the baby.

  So one day Trilby, too, visited Stella.

  ‘Don’t upset her,’ the nurse warned. ‘She has to be kept very quiet so that she won’t waste any of her energy.’

  Trilby promised.

  The first heart-rending came when she saw how thin the little girl had become, and how big her brown eyes looked in her dry-skinned shrunken little face. Her heart was stormed completely at Stella’s question.

  ‘Tell me what happened to the baby. Please, Trilby.’

  As soon as the tears filled her eyes, Trilby remembered the nurse’s warning. She blinked them back and forced herself into calmness. She knelt by Stella’s bed and put her head close to her sister’s. As gently as she could she told Stella of the accident and how the baby had died. She told her more. Of the soft warm hair and the delicate and perfect limbs. ‘Her hand was only half as big as my thumb,’ she said, her eyes remembering.

  ‘And she used to wave them about when I took her shawl off—and kick her legs, too.’

  Stella’s fathomless eyes held her sister’s. These were the things she wanted to hear. After a while she sighed, so long and deep that her small chest moved the sheet above it.

  ‘I wish you could have another one,’ she said wistfully. ‘Will you, Trilby, and let me play with it?’

  Trilby took a deep breath. ‘Yes,’ she said steadily. ‘I’ll have another one for you, Stella, if you promise to get well.’

  ‘Of course I’ll get well,’ Stella said in amusement. ‘Silly!’

  The crisis came and was past. It was certain now that Stella would get better. But it was weeks before Noonah took her sister home. Careful nursing and Trilby’s visit had played their part in the graver issue. The nursing had to continue even more devotedly before Stella’s health was completely restored. But at last she was allowed to go home.

  Such happiness!

  Noonah hired a taxi. The child was painfully thin still, her lengthening legs like sticks. And at home there was more happiness. There, at the door of the one-roomed house, his face a vast and welcoming grin, stood Mr Comeaway.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  ‘Dad!’ screamed Stella, scrambling from Noonah’s grasp. ‘My Dad!’ Illness forgotten, she went leaping over the grass to her father, and Mr Comeaway waited to catch her and seat her on his shoulder.

  Noonah followed, her eyes damp, herself surprised at the surge of love she felt for this returned traveller.

  Mr Comeaway flicked a grin at the taxi-man and put one arm round Noonah’s waist. Inside the small room Mrs Comeaway and Bartie laughed at the success of their surprise.

  ‘Yeah, I’m home,’ Mr Comeaway said. ‘Took a lift all the way up to Wyndham an damn well hadda stay there for a bit. An what’s all this stuff they been tellin me? Don’t anyone know how ta behave their selves when a man goes off on a little trip? Get down here an I find I don’t even live in the same place no more. Fine fool I looked, walkin in that front door an practically landin on ole Mrs Mingo’s lap.’

  Noonah laughed and her eyes danced. She did not care how long her father had been away. Now that he was back, with his cheerfulness and optimism and unfailing good humour, everything would be all right again.

  Mrs Comeaway was bustling importantly round the stove. She looked a different woman. The whole place, Noonah thought with satisfaction, felt like a home again.

  ‘An where’s a man like me gunna fit in here night-times?’ Mr Comeaway enquired. ‘Bit small after the other one, ain’t it?’

  ‘Stella’ll come in ere with us,’ Mrs Comeaway planned, ‘an Noonah’ll sleep out on the veranda with Bartie, eh, Bartie?’

  Bartie nodded delightedly.

  ‘Where’s Trilby?’ Noonah asked, looking round.

  Mrs Comeaway sobered. ‘I got somethin ta tell ya. Young Trilby’s knicked off.’

  ‘I seen er too,’ Mr Comeaway said, a frown between his eyes. ‘But the mob was round me an I couldn’t get ridda them ta see what she’s doin with a big case in er and. Anyway, when I got round ta findin out, she’s gone. Never been back all day.’

  ‘You got any idea where she coulda went?’ Mrs Comeaway asked Noonah.

  ‘She’d had her case packed a long time,’ Bartie said, wide-eyed. ‘But she just told me to mind my own business when I asked her what was in it. It was locked,’ he added ingenuously.

  ‘She couldn’t have had any money,’ Noonah said distressedly, her thoughts going straightaway to what Trilby had said about going to Perth. ‘Would she try to get a lift to Perth?’

  ‘What she wanta go ta Perth for?’

  ‘The young devil,’ Mr Comeaway said admiringly. ‘Always told us she was goin. Probably half-way there by this.’

  ‘I dunno,’ Mrs Comeaway sounded dashed. ‘That ole Mrs Green, she always said Trilby was gunna be hard ta handle. I wonder if young Lila—she’s goin down by bus tomorrow—would she keep a bit of an eye out for er. What you think Noonah?’

  ‘You could ask her,’ Noonah said doubtfully.

  ‘Or I could go in an see that partment chap,’ Mrs Comeaway frowned.

  Noonah frowned too. ‘Trilby would hate that, Mum.’

  Mr Comeaway moved on to the bed. ‘Ah, she’s gone. Bring er back an she’ll be off again, soon as she gets the chance.’

  ‘I wish Phyllix was here,’ Noonah said, feeling depressed. ‘He’d know what to do.’

  ‘She never even spoke to im, when e come up here,’ Mrs Comeaway said definitely. ‘Acted as if e wasn’t around.’

  ‘Let er go,’ Mr Comeaway insisted. ‘She’ll come back when she wants to, soon as she gets tired of bein away.’ His face lightened in a grin. ‘Like er ole man, eh?’

  Mrs Comeaway smiled. ‘Laugh on the other side a ya face if ya got put inside,’ she said threateningly. ‘Running out like that. An I can tell ya I damn near signed that paper bout maintenance. Close as a stick of chewie, I was. Spose I go off when I like an have a holiday. Nice if I went off like you do, eh?’

  ‘There she goes again,’ Mr Comeaway said, still grinning. ‘Nag at a man soon’s e gets back.’

  ‘Kettle’s boiling,’ Noonah said diplomatically. ‘Shall I make tea, Mummy?’

  ‘This girl,’ Mrs Comeaway told her husband, ‘she been real good ta us. Brung all er money home. An she the only one didn
’t get herself in no trouble.’

  ‘What about me?’ Bartie said, from the floor.

  ‘You!’ his mother said scornfully. ‘You an that Diane. Less said bout you two the better.’ She bent to take a good grasp of his hair, giving it a tug which made the boy yelp.

  Noonah thrust this new trouble to the back of her mind. There was a thing she wanted to know.

  ‘Daddy, did you do much work? Did you bring home some money?’

  A look passed between her parents.

  ‘Did you, Dad?’

  ‘Well,’ Mr Comeaway was uneasy. ‘Off an on I did a bit. Off an on.’ He picked up Stella and held her on his lap. ‘An how’s my girl, eh?’

  Stella snuggled into his arms and Mrs Comeaway came over to look searchingly into her daughter’s face. Stella’s eyes were bright and clear now and there was no sign of listlessness. ‘She’ll do,’ she said at last. ‘They took good care of er up that hospital. You shoulda seen this one the day she went in, Joe. But er sister nursed er better.’

  Noonah sat down alongside her father, disturbing a brown paper-wrapped parcel covered lightly with a blanket. A clinking came from the parcel.

  ‘I thought,’ she said carefully, ‘we might be able to get a bigger place after you came back, Daddy. Did Mummy tell you about this being just for one or two people? The man at the department said you could only keep the kids here a little while.’

  ‘Ah, ya don’t wanta go huntin trouble,’ Mrs Comeaway said, embarrassed. ‘E’s not a bad bloke, that partment feller. E’ll let us stay here. You wait an see.’

  Mr Comeaway rubbed his chin. And his brother chose this moment to join the family group.

  Mr Comeaway greeted Charlie with relief. ‘I was just startin ta tell Noonah what I been tellin you, Charlie me boy.’ He turned to Noonah. ‘It was all right, Noonah, but there wasn’t all that much work about. Most a the money I got I hadda spend ta keep meself in between jobs, see? An then when I got stuck up at Wyndham an couldn’t get a lift back I hadda pay out a good bit fa the taxi that took me down the next town. I got a few weeks’ shearin there an thought I better come back while I still ad me pay. I got that bit, or most of it, but that ain’t much. Still,’ his voice grew hearty, ‘now I’m back home me an Charlie’s gunna go down the wharf again an pick up a bit down there.’

  Noonah nodded, but she could not force a smile in answer to her father.

  ‘Pity you couldn’t a hung on ta that house down the Wild-Oat Patch,’ Mr Comeaway brooded. ‘Got a real shock when ya mother tole me bout that rent. An I wouldn’t be surprised if them blokes down that office didn’t go an make a mistake in their addin up. I could see the partment chap about that. What you think, Noonah? You think I should go in, maybe, an have a bit of a talk with im?’

  Noonah swallowed the lump in her throat.

  ‘I suppose you could do that,’ she agreed.

  Noonah and Bartie were sitting on the beach. Bartie’s favourite beach, where the green waves swelled smoothly until they broke in lace-edged scallops on the sand.

  Bartie had a silky-smooth piece of driftwood in his hand. After a while he used it to make patterns on a strip of wet sand.

  ‘Bartie,’ Noonah said. ‘Would you mind going back to the mission very much?’

  ‘Do I have to? Why? Don’t Mummy an Dad want us down here any more?’

  ‘Bartie, of course they do,’ Noonah said warmly, hugging the boy close to her. ‘But it’s a pretty small place where they are now. They’re not supposed to have you two kids there at all. And if they keep you with them they might have to shift out. That means another camp in the bush just like the others. You wouldn’t like that, Bartie, would you?’

  ‘Wouldn’t mind,’ Bartie said easily. ‘Have beaut fun in a camp. Diane lives in one.’

  That had been a stupid thing to say. Noonah tried another approach.

  ‘When I was up at the mission Mrs Gordon used to wish she had someone even partly trained like I am, to help her look after the kids when they got sick. I thought I might write to her and ask her if I could have the job. What about that? Would you like to go if I was there too?’

  Bartie considered. ‘I like it down here better,’ he said at last, ‘but not without you. Why would you want to go back, Noonah?’

  She did not, Noonah thought. But she had an aching longing for peace. There were still troubles ahead. If she went back to the mission and took the two children with her, that would settle a few of them. She sighed. Life didn’t seem to be a matter of making up your mind and going ahead. Things happened, all sorts of things. Other people’s lives got mixed up with yours and your thinking altered. And there was that other business she had talked about with Mrs Green, though with nobody else. Your own people got sulky with you if you didn’t do everything the way they did it. Even training to be a nurse made them act differently towards you, as though they couldn’t trust you any more. Why? She sighed again. And against her shoulder Bartie’s head moved.

  ‘Why didn’t you answer me? What are you thinking about? You look as if you’re crying, Noonah.’ His hand touched her face. ‘Without tears.’

  Noonah laughed and held him closer. ‘You wouldn’t mind, if Stella and I were there too, would you?’

  Bartie sagged. ‘I spose I wouldn’t mind as much. If you wanta go, Noonah, I’ll go with you.’

  The case was not large, but Trilby had been carrying it for hours. Now her shoulders felt as if they were being dragged from their sockets and the palms of her hands were sore. Plenty of cars had passed, but so far Trilby’s nerve had crumpled as each one approached and she had hidden herself behind the wattles that edged the road. She had had little experience in dealing with strangers and her worry over the right approach made her unwilling to begin. As well, she remembered hearing tales of girls being brought back home by the police after attempting to escape, as she was doing. Her father might have asked the department man to search for her. She shuddered at the mere thought of it, but for all she knew the very next car might contain her pursuers.

  Her plans, after she reached Perth, were non-existent. She would take a look at the place and something would suggest itself. The main thing was to get there.

  She had had nothing to eat since breakfast nor had she brought any food with her. Her only thought after her father had arrived had been to escape before he subjected her to questioning. The hurts that had taken so long to heal could not bear a fresh scraping-over. She would talk to no one about them. She had had enough.

  She trudged on with her head bent, resolved to wait round the very next bend. Wait, and not fly like a coward the moment she heard an engine. This time she would walk out on to the road and hold up her hand.

  She stopped and set down the case, intending to sit on it. But the case was very old. It sank inwards beneath her weight, so she got up and thumped it back into shape, then sat on the road at its side. She concentrated her gaze on the highway in the direction from which she had come. So intent was she that she failed to notice the noise of a car coming from the other direction. She was alarmed when it pulled to a stop opposite her.

  Phyllix swung open the car door and jumped to the ground.

  Instantly, Trilby’s heart fluttered, but she was not afraid. At least this was someone she knew. She looked at the car from which he had jumped, and smiled. It was almost as decrepit as Blanchie’s Tim’s car. The driver of the car, a big stolid boy Trilby remembered from her days at the beach, sat staring at her with cool curiosity.

  ‘Where are you off to?’ Phyllix asked softly.

  ‘I told you,’ Trilby lifted her chin. ‘I told you I was going to Perth.’

  ‘You walking all the way?’

  ‘I’m getting a lift with the next car that comes along.’

  ‘Anybody stopped yet?’

  ‘Didn’t want them to. I thought I’d wait a bit.’

  Phyllix nodded. ‘You know you gotta be careful?’

  ‘You mean the police?’

  Phyllix he
sitated. ‘Praps. You’re only a kid. The police might chase you up. I was thinkin of other things. Some men ain’t too particular. Specially with a coloured girl.’

  Trilby just stared at him. Her heart began to thump with alarm.

  Phyllix shrugged. ‘You want a lift, ya gotta take a chance. You gotta think of all things like that. Sposing you’re miles from anywhere, who’s gunna hear you if ya call out? And who’s gunna believe you if ya tell about it?’

  Trilby bent her head to hide frightened tears. She hated herself because she was afraid. She hated even more the idea of asking Phyllix’s help.

  ‘We’re going into town,’ Phyllix said smoothly. ‘Tonight I’ll be seein a man who might take you ta Perth if ya want. Praps tomorrow. You wanta come along?’

  Trilby’s feet dragged as she followed Phyllix over to the car. He flung her case on to the back seat. Then he motioned to the front seat and after she was in climbed in alongside her. The driver grunted and put the rattly old machine in motion.

  ‘You want to come with me or go home?’ Phyllix asked under cover of the noise it made.

  Trilby hesitated. Of the two alternatives, Phyllix’s company would offer most reward. ‘Where are you going?’ she queried.

  ‘Tonight I reckon we’ll be stayin up with the Berrings,’ Phyllix said. ‘We’re on our way there now.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Trilby said. ‘But I mustn’t get in any trouble, understand?’

  ‘You won’t get in no trouble with us,’ Phyllix assured her. ‘They might have a few bottles up there, but you don’t need to have any.’

  He said nothing further and when Trilby stole a glance at him from time to time she saw only his profile. The yellow eyes were fixed on the road ahead and a slight smile lifted the corner of his mouth. Trilby wondered what he could be thinking about. A bitter little smile appeared on her own mouth. Whatever these Berrings were like—and she had heard plenty about them from her mother—she felt confident to handle Phyllix.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

 

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