Parallel Lives

by Narelle Minton

  “I can’t help it.”

  The guilt was dreadful. William’s badly hurt and all I can do is think about myself.

  “Maybe I should return to Crystal Gardens.”

  “I love you. I want to look after you. I don’t mean to be so hopeless.”

  “You need to rest. I’ll go to the hospital in the morning on my own for the tests. If they admit me you can visit me when you’re feeling better.”

  After that they cuddled up together and slept, only to be awoken the next morning by the arrival of the ambulance. How embarrassing being caught in my nightie. She stood back while the men collected William and then went out to the ambulance to give them a bag with some clothes and toiletries. She waved good-bye and went to check on Chris. He’d been sick again and she hadn’t even heard him.

  “Don’t worry Mum, I’ll be all right.”

  He got dressed in his school uniform and made some toast for breakfast. “I know you’ve got to look after William. I’ll see you when I get home from school.”

  More guilt, but he’s right. At the moment my first priority has to be William. She rang the hospital to be told he’d been admitted. Now for the long trek over to Western Suburbs. She found William in bed with a curtain around him. He looked incredibly pale and couldn’t stay awake. Surely, he’s not going to die?

  Finally, she found a doctor. “We’ve found a blood clot on his brain. I’m meeting with my colleagues to discuss whether we’ll operate.”

  There was nothing she could do, just sit there hoping for improvement, but there wasn’t any. She had to get back to Chris.

  The next day she returned to the hospital. William looked even worse. He seemed to have withdrawn right inside himself, not even being aware she was there. Then, when he spoke he didn’t make any sense. Natalie sat with him until the doctors made their rounds.

  “Are you going to operate?”

  “No, we’ve decided against it. He may pull through or he may not. You need to prepare yourself.”

  She walked away, tears trickling down her face. She couldn’t face William at the moment so she went for lunch. The cafeteria was crowded and full of noise but she was in her own vacuum. She bought a pie and coke and ate and drank without knowing it. Nothing seemed real. She wanted to talk to someone but there was no one there to listen.

  Natalie returned to the bed. William was gasping for breath, breathing loudly and slowly. Then he’d stop. Natalie listened. Finally, another breath. A nurse joined her behind the curtain.

  Natalie looked at her despondently. “Can’t you do something?”

  “No, it’s too late. He’s already shutting down.”

  Natalie squeezed his hand but there was no response. She watched as his breaths became further and further apart until they stopped altogether.

  The nurse put a hand on Natalie’s shoulder. “He’s passed away.”

  Natalie remained there holding his hand, knowing he was dead but unable to believe it. Doctors and nurses came and spoke to her but she was in a daze, taking nothing in.

  She drove home and told Chris. He put his arms around her. “I’ll look after you, Mum.”

  The funeral was organised and Natalie was present but she’d gone inside herself, into her own private place, and still, nothing seemed real.

  After that, life was mechanical. She had to look after Chris but nothing else mattered. She went back to bed once he’d gone to school. The house was a mess but she didn’t care. Chris helped with the cooking and gardening. She knew it wasn’t easy for him with her hardly talking but she didn’t seem able to help herself. Where to from here? She didn’t know and she didn’t care.

  Her parents arrived to offer support. Delyth provided some prepared meals and cleaned the house. Gwyn suggested they take Chris back to their place for a while. He was eager to go but she refused. “He’s all I’ve got left.”

  Chapter 42

  1950

  Delyth was doing her best to tidy up the breakfast things but, as usual, Gwyn, with his head in the newspaper, was stalling over his second cup of tea. She returned to the stove and poked at the coals in an attempt to stir up some heat to warm her freezing hands. Outside everything was a blur. She grabbed a tea-towel and moved to the window to wipe a patch in the condensation but it made little difference. The whole valley was shrouded in damp, cold mist. She shivered.

  “What we need, bach is a complete change. We need a new start.”

  Delyth turned to face her husband. “What now?”

  “It says here in the paper, The Assisted Migration Scheme offers passage to Australia for just ten pounds. There’s a high standard of living, a fine, temperate climate, good employment opportunities, generous social services and the opportunity to buy your own home. How does that sound? A life free of hardship and worry for a change!”

  Not another one of his hair-brained schemes! And I’d never get to see my family again. But then, since Mum’s passing, we hardly see each other anyway. It’d have to be better than life here. “What would we have to do?”

  “You can pick up an application at the employment exchange in Swansea. Then we’d post it off to Australia House in London.”

  “Maybe it’s worth thinking about. Whereabouts in Australia do you think we’d go?”

  “I fancy Newcastle. It’s a steel city on the east coast, not so different from Swansea. I think we’d feel at home there and I could get a job in the Steelworks.”

  Delyth went to the parlour and pulled the old atlas off the book-shelf. She brought it back to the kitchen table and found Newcastle on the map. “Look, Gwyn, it’s quite near Sydney. Would we fly or go by ship?”

  “From what I’ve heard, most migrants go by ship. What do you think?”

  She’d caught Gwyn’s enthusiasm now. “I think that we should look into it.”

  Gwyn got out of his chair and went over to where Delyth was standing, still focused on the map of Australia. He drew her to him, put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. “That’s my girl. We’ll clear the debts when we sell the house. With any luck, they’ll be enough over to give us a bit of a start in Australia. By gees, it’ll be great to get away from all this rationing.”

  Gwyn returned to the newspaper. “Look at the picture here. They all live in these flash bungalows. That’ll be a treat. And I’ll finally get that motor-bike I’ve been craving for. We’ll explore the country together. I can just see you sitting behind me with the wind blowing through your hair.”

  “Mm, it sounds incredible. I wonder if they’d accept us though. Is there anything you have to do to qualify?”

  “It says here you have to be healthy and of good character, under forty-six years of age.”

  “Well, that’s us. I’ll go into Swansea shortly and get an application form.”

  When Gwyn returned from work, Delyth rushed up to him. “Guess what Gwyn, ex-servicemen and their dependents can migrate for free. It’ll cost us nothing.”

  Gwyn sat down at the table and started pouring over the coloured brochures Delyth had left there. “Look at that family on the beach. My, they look happy. That’ll be me and you before long.”

  Delyth was already busy filling in the application form.

  “I was thinking, love, it might be easier if I had a job lined up ready. How about you help me write a letter to the Steelworks in Newcastle?”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  Delyth had soon typed out a letter outlining Gwyn’s work experience. “I’ll post this off tomorrow as well as the application to Australia House.”

  Before long they were interviewed by a visiting official from the Australian Migration Office and given approval for supported migration, pending medical examinations. These were done by their local doctor. Then there were the chest x-rays at the Swansea Hospital. No problems there so they went ahead with their smallpox vaccinations. That left them with sore arms for a couple of days, but it was all for a good cause. Delyth could hardly contain herself when a letter arrived
from BHP Steelworks but she knew she had to leave it for Gwyn to open. As soon as he walked in the door, she handed it to him.

  Not stopping to give her the customary peck on the cheek, he tore open the envelope and scanned the letter. His eyes said it all. “They’ve got a position for me, love, and they’re going to send someone to meet us off the ship to direct us to the hostel where we’ll be living to start with.” He threw his arms around her and lifted her right off the ground, twirling her in the air. "It’s really going to happen, cariad."

  They put the house on the market. The thought of strangers traipsing through the place, making judgements on everything, filled her with dread. But she needn’t have worried. It sold quickly at a good price, clearing their debts. The new owners bought most of their furniture, leaving the rest to be sold locally to neighbours and friends.

  In October 1950 they received their first-class rail tickets, brochures and clearance documents. It would only be a month now until they left Southampton on the RMS Asturius.

  “This’s all very grand, first class and all,” said Gwyn. “There’s obviously plenty of money in Australia and we’ll have part of it.”

  Chapter 43

  Their leaving day finally arrived. Everyone was gathered at the Swansea railway station. Her father, sister and two brothers were there, along with a multitude of nephews and nieces, leaping around with excitement. There were also friends and neighbours who’d turned up to see them off. Delyth hugged each in turn. Everyone wished them well but she hardly heard what they said as she struggled to hold back the tears. Steam spewed out of the enormous engine with a loud hissing noise. It’s time to board. Gwyn grabbed both their suitcases and carried them along the platform. Delyth checked the tickets, despite knowing their seat numbers off by heart from reading them so often. “This is our carriage.” Gwyn lugged their cases onto the train and stowed them in the luggage compartment. Delyth found their seats and sat by the window. It’s a relief to be on the train, just the two of us. Gwyn sat down beside her and put his arm around her.

  They were off. Delyth pulled out a book to distract herself and calm her nerves. Whenever she looked up, Gwyn was gazing out the window at the passing scenery. “My, look at the construction going on in Cardiff. That’s a change from when I last passed by here.” Then later, “Look at all those crops in the fields. Things seem to be getting back to normal in England, anyway.” For her, the journey was taking far too long, with all the stops along the way. By the time they had changed trains twice in London and reached Southampton, it took most of the day and she was exhausted.

  A short taxi trip to the port and everything changed. The sight of the black, steel hull of the huge ship that was to take them to Australia rekindled her excitement. Long queues of emigrants, lined up to have their paperwork checked, didn’t even deter them. They joined what appeared to be the shortest queue and before long found themselves climbing one of the gangplanks to join the throng of people gathered on the deck. After all the anticipation, it doesn’t seem real.

  They were surprised to discover they wouldn’t be sharing a cabin. The sleeping quarters were like small dormitories, accommodating eight or ten people, with men on one side of a corridor and women on the other. Gwyn carried Delyth’s suitcase into the room opposite his. He winked at her. “No matter, where there’s a will, there’s a way. You won’t escape me this easily.” The communal toilets and bathrooms were further down the corridor.

  Before long, they heard a loud gong that signified dinner and joined the flow of passengers making their way to the dining room. There they were seated with others sharing their cabins, all ten-pound poms. Gwyn was in his element, keeping everyone entertained with his catalogue of stories, as they savoured the three-course meal laid before them.

  *

  Breakfast the next morning was a real treat. They were served cereal and bacon and eggs with a bread roll. He smiled at Natalie, recalling the altercation over the powdered eggs. “This is more like it.” Finally, he was receiving the reward he deserved for his war effort. “At last we can leave the rationing behind us and look forward to our new life.”

  It was not until 10 ’O clock they actually departed. By then a crowd had formed on the dock below. They watched together as coloured streamers were thrown up to passengers. Delyth held onto a bunch of them until they finally snapped when the ship drew away from the port. She looked a little downcast as they watched the English coastline recede under a grey sky.

  He was determined to restore her spirits. “Let’s take a good look around the ship.” They meandered along the large open deck, poking their heads into various rooms they came upon – three large lounge rooms, two dining rooms, a reading room, a hall that apparently was used for dancing or playing films according to the notice-board on the wall, a children’s playroom and a shop that seemed to sell an endless variety of nick-nacks.

  *

  After their walk, Delyth dropped gratefully into a comfortable deck-chair while Gwyn went to buy some drinks. She was surprised to see him return with two soft-drinks but said nothing. He stretched out in the chair beside hers, closing his eyes to shield them from the sun. Before long he was snoring rhythmically. Delyth smiled, the more so when she noticed the couple next to her grinning as well. Before long she joined them in conversation, discovering they’d left England to find a home in Sydney after living with in-laws for years.

  They got into the habit of sitting in deckchairs each day, basking in the sunshine and chatting with those around them. The other travellers were an interesting bunch, far more adventurous than their neighbours back in Swansea. She enjoyed watching the antics of the children, imagining her own to come, once they were established in their new home. Sometimes they joined others in shipboard activities, playing deck tennis, quoits, table tennis or darts. Gwyn was adept at winning money at the ‘race meetings’, in which bets were laid by passengers on their daily progress.

  Of an evening they relaxed around a table with their new friends, sharing drinks and biscuits. They might play cards, cribbage or scrabble or perhaps just share their plans for the future. Gwyn opened up to the others one evening, “My dreams were broke in Swansea. I worked hard to get my own business off the ground but it went bust. What, with the shortage of supplies and constant rain, it was all too much. It broke my heart, it did. All I want now is to start afresh with a steady job and the chance to get a new home. I’ve had enough of working my guts out for nothing. Things’ll be different in Australia – plenty of sunshine, beaches and kangaroos.” Everyone at the table smiled. They shared the dream.

  Sometimes, they’d enjoy watching a film together in the entertainment hall or even join in a dance. One evening, as the band started up Gwyn led Delyth onto the dance floor. “It’s just like old times, me and you on the dance floor, aye love?” Delyth responded with a nostalgic smile. Dancing was something that had always given them pleasure. They loved the old-fashioned songs. As she was guided around the floor in the strong arms of her husband the romance of the past was rekindled.

  “Would you care for a walk on deck, Mrs Jones?”

  It was soon clear to Delyth it was more than a walk that Gwyn had in mind. It didn’t take them long to find a spare life-boat to clamber into, where they made sweet, secret love. Gwyn helped her back onto the deck. “Next time I’ll have a blanket handy.”

  Though they slept in separate dormitories, it didn’t matter. They looked forward to catching up each morning. Delyth would find little gifts of chocolate or flowers waiting for her at the table, making her blush in front of the others as she reached down to hold Gwyn’s hand under the table.

  The first place they disembarked was Malta. Delyth felt the warmth of the sun on her tanned arms as she peered through the clear water at a multitude of fish swimming below the surface. White-washed buildings clung right to the water’s edge. The two of them ambled, arm in arm, along worn paving stones through the narrow streets of Valletta. They whiled away the time, exploring tiny sho
ps with fascinating displays of all manner of things, before stopping at an outdoor café to sample coffee and pastries.

  Back on board, Gwyn pulled out a map. “We’ll reach the Suez Canal before long. I read in the newspaper there’s been an increase in tension between Britain and Egypt. I hope we won’t have any problems.” When they reached the area there was no commotion, just a long delay caused by the queue of ships waiting to get through. The boredom wasn’t helped by the monotonous scenery, endless miles of sand in all directions.

  They were allowed ashore again in Aden. It was a hot and dusty place, with rubbish scattered everywhere and goats wandering about the streets. Beggars, mostly children in ragged clothes, kept coming up to them with outstretched hands and pathetic looks in their deep, brown eyes. Unnerved, Natalie drew behind Gwyn.

  “Just keep walking or you’ll have them all following us.”

  It was a relief to return to the ship. That evening, over dinner, they discovered other passengers were equally unimpressed. “We didn’t want to buy anything but people kept trying to sell us things. They wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer and kept haggling over the price to try to make us change our minds. They showed us no respect at all.”

  The Indian Ocean crossing was calm, filled with warm sunshine. Gwyn and Delyth often stood, side by side on the deck, mesmerised by schools of dolphins, leaping gracefully in and out of the ocean as they swam alongside the ship as if playing some kind of game. Finally, they arrived at Colombo, where once again they had the opportunity to go ashore. The humid, tropical climate here was oppressive, making them hot and sticky as they pushed their way through crowded streets, weaving their way around ugly blotches of red betel nut. Men spat out the disgusting muck at random with no consideration for those around them. After once again, being pestered by hawkers, they returned early to the relative comfort of the ship.

  Christmas day was made special by their arrival at Fremantle, on the Western Australian coast. The heat was scorching as they made their way along pavements, shaded by the overhang of iron, shop roofs. Delyth was relieved to follow Gwyn into the cool dimness of one of the numerous hotels. She sat at a table in the ladies’ lounge waiting for him to return from the bar with their drinks. The green tiled walls reminded her of a public lavatory. A cacophony of raised male voices drifted through an open doorway. Natalie glanced into the adjoining room to glimpse the sweaty bodies of men, many clad only in singlets, shorts and flip-flops, arguing with each other in an uncouth way. Is this how they spend Christmas here? Where are the women and children? It’s not a scrap like home. So uncivilized! What’s in store for us? It was a relief when Gwyn appeared with their drinks, obviously unperturbed by what she’d witnessed.