‘We’re almost there, girls.’ Papa had barely slept the night before. After being on the boat for so long, he was impatient to finally arrive in Australia.
As they got closer to Sydney, Teresa saw more houses perched on the cliffs. Fine, stately homes with gardens and even swimming pools.
Papa pointed at the grandest one. ‘We can buy one like that!’
Teresa’s mama smiled at her husband. ‘Let’s focus on going ashore first.’
When they rounded the Heads and entered Sydney Harbour, the ship let out a great blast. Passengers cheered and hugged. The water sparkled and bobbed with sailboats and ferries, while the foreshore all around was a rugged mass of trees. As they sailed further, a frantic cry went out. ‘The Harbour Bridge!’
Gasps were heard all around the ship along with the clicking of cameras and the whir of super-eight film.
‘It’s bigger than I thought,’ Anna said.
‘Everything is bigger than I thought.’ Teresa was watching it all with wide eyes. She’d been told a little about Sydney while she was in Malta, but no one had said it would be as grand and busy as this.
Tugboats pulled alongside and guided the ship to the wharf at Circular Quay, which teemed with people throwing streamers and calling out to loved ones. A band was playing and there were even cameras and photographers.
The buildings stood high above them, built from shining glass and steel, while cars, buses and taxis zig-zagged in a great rush.
Rebecca gathered the orphans together while Teresa and her parents waited in line to be cleared by immigration officials and medical officers. The line snaked through the ship as passengers waited anxiously for final approval to leave. Teresa was again poked and prodded by doctors and had a torch shone in her eyes and ears.
‘Here are your ration cards for butter and tea,’ an officer said with a smile. ‘Other than that, you’ll find everything else in pretty good supply.’ He stamped their passports and handed them back. ‘Welcome to Australia.’
Papa shook the man’s hand so hard Teresa worried he’d pull it off. ‘Thank you, sir.’
All of their belongings fitted into just three suitcases. What little they had in Malta, they’d given to Nanna, with Papa declaring Australia would be a fresh start.
He stood at the top of the gangway and declared, ‘This is it. The beginning of our new lives. Ready?’
Teresa and her mama nodded. ‘Ready.’
They stepped into the cheers and music and beneath flying streamers and confetti. All around them were people in tears, hugging and laughing.
Papa made sure they stood together to take their first steps onto Australian soil. When they did, he wiped his sleeve across his eyes. Mama kissed his cheek. ‘You old softie.’
A group of nuns in long brown veils and dresses handed out small parcels. ‘This is a gift from Australia to help you settle in.’
Mama thanked them and tucked it under her arm, and was juggling it with her suitcase when they heard someone cry, ‘Over here!’
Teresa turned to see a group of men rush towards them. One carried a large camera on wooden legs while another had a smaller one strapped around his neck topped with a large flash bulb.
A man wearing an eager smile bent down and asked, ‘Can you say a few words for the Australian people?’
Teresa looked to her parents, who nodded.
He waved at a group of official-looking men in suits. They headed towards them, led by a tall man with thick, black-rimmed glasses. He crouched beside Teresa. ‘Don’t worry. This won’t take long.’
The cameraman gave the thumbs up.
‘We’re rolling, sir.’
‘Hello, little girl. What’s your name?’
‘Teresa Carmen Fontana.’
‘Well, Teresa, I’m Arthur Calwell, the Minister for Immigration, and on behalf of our nation, I’d like to welcome you to Australia. You must be very excited to be here.’
Teresa nodded as cameras flashed and clicked.
‘What are you most looking forward to?’
Teresa didn’t really know much about Australia but then remembered. ‘Eating bananas!’
Arthur laughed. ‘I’m sure that can be arranged. And what would you like to be when you’re older?’
‘A nurse, like my mama.’
Arthur beamed. ‘Well, Australia certainly needs you.’ He turned to the camera. ‘Here is another example of a fine New Australian family ready to work hard to build this great country of ours.’
The camera stopped rolling.
‘Thank you, Teresa.’ Mr Calwell shook her hand. ‘I wish you and your family the very best.’
The crew moved away as quickly as they had appeared, to film another new arrival.
‘Teresa!’ Anna squeezed through the crowd. ‘We’re leaving now. Will you come and say goodbye?’
Anna clung to Teresa’s hand as they made their way through the noise and chaos to an old bus. Its engine was rumbling, ready to leave. The other orphans had scrambled inside and were busily swapping seats while Rebecca tried to count them to make sure they were all there.
Teresa’s parents hugged Anna. ‘Look after yourself,’ was all Papa managed, while Mama lingered longer. ‘Take care. We’ll think of you every day.’
Teresa opened her arms and the two held each other tight. ‘I wish you were coming with us,’ she whispered.
The bus driver sounded the horn.
‘Me too.’ Anna’s voice was muffled by sadness. ‘Do you think we’ll see each other again?’
Teresa’s heart jolted. ‘I –’
‘I’m sorry’ – Rebecca laid a gentle hand on Anna’s shoulder – ‘but we have to go.’
‘Wait!’ Teresa asked Papa for the address of their new home and scribbled it on a piece of paper. ‘Write to me so I know you’re okay.’
‘I will. I promise.’
Anna climbed onto the bus and the door slammed shut behind her. She squeezed through the crush of other kids and pressed her forehead against the window.
Don’t cry! Teresa silently ordered herself. She waved as the bus pulled away from the kerb, but the moment it disappeared from sight, she fell into Mama’s arms and sobbed.
Teresa was nestled between her parents in the back of a taxi as they drove through the wide streets that teemed with cars, buses and trams.
There were people everywhere. Shoppers with bags swinging from their arms, men wearing suits and hats, and even a group of children led by a nun in flowing black. Horns blared as people darted through the traffic, and Teresa wondered how no one was killed.
They stopped at a red light and the roads flooded with people who all seemed to be in a terrible hurry.
Teresa felt small as the city towered over them. Tall, modern buildings seemed to scrape the edges of the sky, while older ones sat lower but were more regal-looking, with sandstone clocktowers and domed roofs.
Billboards advertised Stamina Trousers and Bushell’s Tea above shops bursting with colourful displays and mannequins wearing stylish dresses and gowns.
The driver turned off the main road and into a series of narrower, darker streets. The bright shop windows and stately buildings gave way to tumbledown apartments, crooked balconies and lines of limp, grey washing. Bins overflowed and broken windows had been taped or boarded up.
The taxi drew to a stop.
Mama looked out the window at the decrepit building in front of them. ‘Excuse me, sir, are you sure this is the address?’
‘That’s what ya piece of paper says, love. You wanna go somewhere else? The meter’s running, so you better make ya mind up quick.’
Teresa’s papa paid the driver. ‘No, we will stay. Thank you.’
They slowly stepped out of the car.
Papa took a deep breath. ‘It might be better inside.’
Teresa couldn’t see how, but she secretly hoped he was right.
They clutched their suitcases and entered the foyer. Beneath a single dismal light, a portly man with
a cigarette dangling from his mouth was waiting for them.
‘You the Fontana family?’ He wore a stained singlet and sat on a worn-out chair in front of a sign that said, Lift broken. Use stairs.
‘Yes.’ Papa held out his hand, but the man didn’t take it.
‘You’re late.’
‘Sorry, getting off the ship took longer than …’
‘Follow me.’
He wheezed and puffed as he climbed the stairs.
‘Watch out for that.’ He pointed his cigarette at a broken step. A clump of ash fell to the floor and sizzled on the carpet.
Teresa’s papa stamped it out and her mama shot him a worried look. He offered her a smile that Teresa could see was packed with as much hope as he could muster.
After climbing four flights, the man was gasping for breath. He flicked through a wad of keys until he found the one he wanted. When he opened the door, the smell of stale, mouldy air spilled into the hallway.
Despite Papa’s hopefulness, inside was no better. The flat was cramped and dark and the floor was sticky under their feet. The door opened directly into the kitchen. Off to the side was a small bedroom and a toilet no bigger than a cupboard.
‘I was told it had two bedrooms,’ Papa said.
The man turned and began to walk away. ‘You don’t want it, there are plenty more who do.’
‘No, please, we’ll take it.’
‘I need one month’s rent up front.’ He blew out a stream of cigarette smoke that filled the kitchen.
Papa coughed. ‘That’s a lot of money.’
The man sighed and spoke slowly, pointing out each word. ‘Like I said, if you don’t want it –’
‘No, no. We want it.’
The man held out his hand. ‘And I want Australian dollars. No wog money.’
Teresa wasn’t sure what wog money was, but she was very sure that this was the rudest man she’d ever met.
‘I have Australian money.’ Papa handed it over. ‘I changed it on the ship.’
He carefully counted the notes before squashing them into his trouser pocket. ‘I’ll be back in a month for the next payment.’
The stairwell echoed with his rasping cough until they heard the front door of the building slam shut.
Papa looked around. ‘I know it’s not much but …’
‘Not much?’ Mama cried. ‘It’s terrible.’ There was a tense pause before she smiled. ‘But we will make do. We will scrub it clean, I can make some bright curtains and then it will start to feel like home.’
She opened the cupboard beneath the sink and a long black creature with twitching antennae scuttled past.
Teresa screamed. ‘What is it?’
Mama held her close while Papa grabbed a battered saucepan and chased it around the room. He struck the floor, but each time it got away until finally he slammed the pot in a direct hit.
‘Is it dead?’ Teresa couldn’t look.
‘Very dead.’
‘Will there be more of them?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her papa wiped it up with a rag that was stiff with filth and threw it and the bug in the bin. ‘But it’s a good idea to start cleaning now.’
After hours of scrubbing, the flat felt a little better. It was dark outside when they finished, and turning on the light made very little difference. They squeezed around the kitchen table with the nuns’ parcel before them. Teresa was given the honour of opening it. She read the card: A little something to welcome you to Australia. From the Sisters of St Joseph.
Inside was a tin of sweet chocolate powder called Milo and a jar of black paste called Vegemite. There was also bread and jam, tea, sugar, powdered egg and milk, and a map of Sydney.
They’d just finished unpacking it all when the light flickered out.
They found a candle under the sink and ate their first meal in Australia by its glow. Teresa thought the jam on bread was delicious, but screwed her face up when she tasted Vegemite. ‘It tastes like an old boot.’
When exhaustion took hold, Teresa’s parents squeezed onto the sagging mattress in the bedroom, while Teresa slept on cushions on the bench beneath the kitchen window. She made sure to sleep with a saucepan beside her in case any more creatures sprang out of the cupboards. Car horns and sirens sounded below and bright street light filtered through the broken blind.
She thought of their home that was destroyed in the war. She remembered her lace curtain that let in wavering streams of warm light, and curling up beneath Nanna’s handmade quilt in the winter. She thought of sharing a mattress with George on his living room floor and the bedroom she slept in with Nanna before they left Malta. She thought of Anna as she pressed her face against the bus window, waving goodbye.
A bottle smashed in the lane below.
She shut her eyes tight to stop the tears and gradually fell asleep dreaming of Anna and George and Nanna and the blue skies and warm breezes of Malta.
Teresa was woken the next day by Papa whistling as he shaved over a bowl in the kitchen sink.
‘Good morning. How was your first sleep in Australia?’
Teresa didn’t want to tell him the cushions were lumpy and hard and an argument below their window had kept her awake for what felt like hours.
‘Good,’ she lied.
He saw the saucepan by her head. ‘What’s that for?’
‘Good morning.’ Mama appeared at the bedroom door and saved her from having to answer. ‘Everyone’s up early.’
‘I’m going to search for a job.’
‘But we’ve only just arrived. Won’t you have one day off?’
‘I had six weeks off on the ship.’ Papa wiped his clean-shaven face. ‘It’s time I went back to work. While I’m doing that, your job is to find the best bakery and ice cream shops and when I get home, I want to hear all about it.’
He slipped on a clean shirt and jacket. ‘How do I look?’
‘As handsome as ever,’ Mama said.
‘You’re biased. Teresa?’
‘I agree.’
‘Then it must be true.’
He kissed them both. ‘Wish me luck!’
Dear George,
Today, Mama and I are spending our first full day together in Sydney. This morning, Papa went to look for work and we went exploring. It’s not like Malta at all. Everything is so modern and wherever you turn there are people, buses, trams and cars. Sydney Harbour is just as beautiful as Malta’s Grand Harbour but with lots of trees and next to it is the Royal Botanical Gardens, which is where I’m sitting now writing this letter. It’s filled with the most amazing colourful birds. Others are brown and white with blue wings and sound like they’re laughing. A man told us they’re called kookaburras. I think you’d like them the best.
For lunch we went to a shop called a milk bar where they have huge jars filled with sweets and drinks called milkshakes made from ice cream, milk and flavouring. I chose vanilla. I made sure I had a sip for you.
While we were there, Mama saw a note asking for a house cleaner. She can’t work as a nurse in Australia until she passes extra exams, so for now she is happy to get any work she can. The shopkeeper gave us directions to the house and even let Mama use his phone. She has an interview tomorrow. When she hung up, she hugged the man and said thank you so many times he went as red as a beetroot.
The flat we’re staying in isn’t very nice and sometimes the lights go out and the hot water doesn’t work but Papa says it won’t be long before we can find something better.
How is school? And your mama? It still doesn’t feel right that I can’t run around the corner and see you whenever I want.
I have to go. Mama and I are going shopping so we can cook Papa something special for dinner. She said to make sure I send love from all of us.
Your friend forever,
Teresa xox
A man with a thick moustache and curly hair stood before rows of plump vegetables and pyramids of carefully arranged fruit. ‘Get yourself some bea-uuuutiful oranges, fresh ba
nanas and the most dee-licious peaches you’ll ever taste.’
Teresa stared at the golden-coloured fruit he held in his hand.
‘Would you like to try some, little lady?’
‘Yes please.’
The man took a knife from his pocket and gave her a slice. He waited while she took a bite. ‘What do you think?’
Teresa had never heard the word delicious before, but she guessed it meant something very, very tasty. ‘It is … delicious!’
‘And for that, you deserve the whole peach.’ He winked at Teresa.
Her cheeks bulged with the sweet, juicy fruit as she and Mama stepped past shelves of pineapples, barrels of tomatoes and food Teresa had never seen before. Signs above them read mangoes, strawberries and something called a lychee. The village shop back home had small crates of tinned food and a few trays of vegetables, but it was nothing like this. Teresa’s mama bought so much her bag almost tore at the seams.
At the butcher shop, they simply stared. Inside the window were neatly arranged steaks, trays of chickens and lines of sausages strung like party streamers. What little meat they’d eaten during and after the war was tough and stringy or too expensive, so they’d often gone without.
A bald man with a blue-and-white striped apron stretched across his round belly poked his head outside. ‘Can I help you, ladies?’
‘We would like to buy some meat.’ Mama pronounced every word carefully.
‘You’ve come to the right place.’ His smile spread all the way to his ears. ‘Step this way.’
‘We want to make a special feast. Do you have rabbit? It’s my husband’s favourite.’
‘Of course! Fresh this morning.’ He selected one from the display. ‘You’re not from around here, are you?’
‘We are from Malta.’
‘Malta? I read about your country. Those mongrel Germans gave you a real beating. Seems to me, it was lucky any of you survived.’
‘The soldiers were very brave,’ Teresa said. ‘My papa was one of them.’
‘Was he now? Well that settles it!’ He wrapped the rabbit in paper. ‘You can have this one for half price.’
Mama shook her head. ‘That is very kind, but …’
‘I insist.’ He took a small, red sausage from the counter. ‘And this is for you, little girl.’
Teresa: A New Australian Page 6