The Light Horseman's Daughter

by David Crookes

  Her face was no longer pretty. It was fat, blemished and puffy. Her two front teeth were missing and there were bloody blotches in the whites of her eyes. She wore a filthy ragged dress and beneath it her once well-rounded figure had bloated into gross obesity.

  Beth looked at Laura in utter disbelief.

  ‘Mrs Coltrane,’ she gasped. ‘What are you doing here.’ She put a protective hand around the child and pushed his face further into her skirt.

  Before Laura could reply the loud voice called out again. ‘Beth, you bitch, where are the bloody fags?’

  ‘On top of the stove, Jacko.’

  ‘Oh, Beth, ‘Laura said softly. ‘Was it so bad for you at Yallambee? Is this what you ran away for?’

  ‘No, but it’s all I got, Mrs Coltrane.’ Beth’s voice was little more than a whisper. ‘I couldn’t stay on at Yallambee. And I never knew when I came to Roma I’d finish up being used and abused by Jacko.’

  ‘Who the hell’s here?’

  Suddenly the door was kicked wide open. And there was Jacko, the half-caste Aboriginal cattle haulier, clad only in filthy underwear, a bottle of beer in one hand and a lighted cigarette in the other. He was swaying on his feet, so drunk he could hardly stand. He took a long swallow of beer, then squinted at Laura, trying to focus his hazy bloodshot eyes. They sprung wide open the instant he recognized her.

  ‘Bloody hell. You’re the Coltrane woman from Essex Downs.’ Jacko took another swig of beer and drew hard on the cigarette. Suddenly he looked afraid. ‘I done nothin’ wrong, Missus. Beth told me she was free to leave your place. Said she had a half-caste exemption permit. Hell, I didn’t even know she was havin’ a kid.’

  The blood drained from Laura’s face. ‘You were pregnant when you left Yallambee, Beth?’

  Beth lowered her eyes.

  Laura looked down at the boy. His face was still pressed tight against Beth’s belly. She reached out and gently took him by the shoulder. The boy turned his head and looked up at her. When Laura saw his face and his familiar, unmistakable features she almost fainted.

  *

  ‘I have spoken with Mr Bowes-Scott himself, Mr Lawrence. My instructions are to apologize for any inconvenience and to ask you to resume shipments to our stores as soon as you possibly can.’

  Neale the Nib could hardly believe his ears.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Postlewaite. I’ll advise Miss McKenna just as soon as she comes in.’ He put the telephone receiver back in it’s cradle and let out a whoop.

  He broke the good news to Emma when she came in from canvassing for new accounts. Her response was more restrained.

  ‘That’s wonderful, Neale,’ she said as she walked through into her own office. ‘But this whole affair has left a bad taste in my mouth. In future we’ll no longer restrict ourselves to supplying Bowes-Scott exclusively.’

  Emma sat down at her desk and wondered what had caused the change of heart at Bowes-Scott. But having heard no more from Stephen or the police, she was more concerned at what might have happened to him. Her thoughts were still on Stephen an hour later when the telephone rang.

  ‘Sydney Styles,’ Emma answered the call herself.

  ‘May I speak with Miss McKenna, please.’

  ‘Speaking.’

  ‘Oh, Miss Mckenna, it’s Leonard Fairchild. I was wondering if I could meet with you.’

  ‘For what reason, Mr Fairchild?’ Is Stephen all right?’

  ‘I’d rather not talk on the telephone. Can we meet somewhere ?’

  ‘Yes. Where we met last time. I can be there in half an hour.’

  *

  ‘Europe?’ Emma was stunned. ‘Stephen’s gone to Europe?’

  Emma sat beside Leonard on the low wall surrounding Redfern Park.

  ‘He telephoned me just minutes before he left,’ Leonard said. ‘He didn’t say anything about leaving the country. Just that his situation had become impossible and that he would have to go away for a time. He asked me to go to his office and tell his father, and also to pick up the key to his bank safety deposit box and collect some documents. Some of them concern you, my dear, that’s why I telephoned you.’

  Leonard reached into his coat pocket and drew out a large brown envelope.

  ‘When did you see Stephen last, Mr Fairchild?’ Emma asked as Leonard opened the envelope.

  ‘Quite recently,’ Leonard replied. ‘He stayed overnight at Port Macquarie on his way home from Goondiwindi. We had a long chat about everything. I was so sorry to hear about your brother. It seems Patrick Coltrane has a lot to answer for.’

  Emma was surprised Stephen had discussed Hope Farm with his uncle but made no comment. Instead she said, ‘Stephen told you, of course, that he knows everything—about our child, and the money, and what brought on all this trouble.’

  ‘Oh, yes. All except Eleanor finding out about you both. He told me that on the phone from the airport.’

  Leonard took some papers out of the brown envelope.

  ‘Miss McKenna, I have here…’

  ‘Please call me, Emma. I think Stephen would prefer it.’ .

  Leonard smiled. ‘And I think he would like you to call me, Leonard. Now, Emma, I have here a power of attorney executed by Stephen. He has requested that during his absence I look after his affairs. And he has also given me signing authority on his bank accounts and instructed me to set up a substantial trust account for Christopher and to transfer more funds to the original account I set up for you so long ago.’ He has also made you and Christopher beneficiaries of his life insurance policies. And …’

  ‘But none of this is necessary, Leonard.’

  Leonard shrugged. ‘I’m only doing what Stephen has asked me to do, Emma. Please think of me as your friend. And as a friend, please let me know if there is anything I can do for you at any time. I shall be away in Canberra and elsewhere for some time, but I have asked my wife and Mrs B to let you know where I can be contacted at all times.’

  Leonard took a small white envelope from the papers in his hand. It was sealed and had Emma’s name written on the front. Leonard handed the letter to Emma and rose to leave.

  Emma waited until she was at home alone in her room before she opened Stephen’s letter.

  Dear Emma,

  By now you will have spoken to Uncle Leonard. I know how independent you

  are, but if you can accept and allow what I have asked him to do it will give me

  so much peace of mind.

  I hope you don’t think my running away is cowardly. But after finding you

  again, and seeing Christopher, I knew I couldn’t trust myself to keep my promise

  to stay out of your lives. And I realized I could never go on living the lie of my

  marriage to Eleanor, even if it meant going to prison.

  I hope what I have done will turn out for the best. Because whatever is best for

  you and Christopher, will always be best for me.

  All my love,

  Stephen

  PART FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Emma saw Bill regularly during the winter of 1936, somehow managing to take time out from her long exhausting days at the factory. On each visit she noticed a growing despondency and resentment of his incarceration at a time when his worst fears were unfolding in the world outside the prison walls.

  The news from Europe was all bad. In May, the conquest of Abyssinia was completed by Italian fascist forces. In July, there were political assassinations in Spain, swiftly followed by a military revolt. Rebel army officers led by General Franco, the commander of the Spanish Colonial Army in North Africa, staged bloody uprisings in Morocco and Spain against the socialist Republican Government and airlifted the entire North African army to Spain.

  When they landed, hardened Spanish Foreign Legionnaire’s were ordered by the rebel generals to execute communists, socialists and trade unionists leaders. When the insurgents were defeated by government forces in Madrid and Barcelona, Adolf Hitler and Benito
Mussolini sent the rebels massive shipments of arms and munitions and the massacre of everyone who stood in their way began in earnest.

  Bill and his friends in the Anti-Fascist League knew that the curtain had been drawn on a bloody conflagration which might well eventually engulf the entire world. The only hope was swift and decisive action against the fascist forces by the world’s major powers.

  But hopes of anti-fascists around the world were dashed in late September when Britain, fearing a repeat of the Great War and the loss of substantial commercial interests in Spain, pressured Europe’s major powers to endorse a policy of non-intervention in the Spanish Civil War. That policy was supported wholeheartedly by isolationists in the United States..

  Bill was released from Long Bay Jail at the end of September on the very day General Franco was appointed Commander-In-Chief and Head of State of what the rebels called the Nationalist Spanish Government. That night Bill announced to a small celebratory gathering at Emma’s house, that he intended to joined a group of Australian volunteers planning to fight in Spain for the Republic.

  Transportation arrangements had to be made quickly. Already the Commonwealth was planning to stop Australian volunteers by bringing in a Foreign Enlistment Act which would prohibit anyone from volunteering to fight in Spain, under penalty of two years jail. All new passports were to be stamped, ‘Not valid for Spain’ and persons required to sign passport applications such as clergymen, doctors or professional people were warned they might commit an offence if they knowingly signed applications from Spanish war volunteers. Father O’Brien was reluctant to sign Bill’s passport application, but finally agreed in deference to Bill’s well-being and safety rather than his own.

  Bill told Emma he had no idea when he would leave. The Anti-Fascist League and the Communist party made travel arrangements for most volunteers and to protect themselves and the volunteers, travel arrangement were only disclosed a few hours before a ship sailed.

  Emma, Bill and Christopher had just returned from a Sunday afternoon spent aboard a harbor ferry when a league member called at Emma’s house to say Bill’s ship sailed at six o'clock the next morning. After dinner, Emma and Bill sat alone together on the living room sofa and talked. She made a last effort to make him change his mind.

  ‘Why is it young men always want to go off to war?’ she said sadly. She took his hand in hers. ‘Please… don’t waste your life.’

  She had asked the same of him when he had first announced he was volunteering. Her protests had just been a reaction to the temporarily loss of a friend, but since then she had paid more attention to newspaper reports of the terrible bloodbath in Spain..

  ‘I’m not so young,’ Bill said. ‘Most countries wouldn’t send a man my age to the front, especially one with a game leg. But I’m not going to war for Australia or Spain. I’m going to war for myself, and for men like me around the world—once proud men, degraded and humiliated by years of depression and forced to watch their families go to bed cold and hungry.’

  ‘But why risk yourself, Bill? It’s not worth it. It’s just another damn war.’

  ‘Its not just another war, Emma. This time there are no marching bands playing patriotic tunes. No politicians urging other people’s sons to sacrifice themselves on the beaches at Gallipoli or in the trenches of Flanders. And there are no young girls giving white feathers to the young blokes who refuse to go.’

  ‘Then why go? One man can’t make a difference.’

  ‘It would make a difference to me,’ Bill said solemnly. ‘I can’t turn my back on all I believe in and on everyone else who’s going. And I don’t just mean those from Sydney or Melbourne, but blokes from places like Liverpool in England, Saskatoon in Canada. Pittsburg in America or Marseilles in France. They all see this as a place where they can make a difference. What would happen if we all stayed at home?’

  Emma looked into Bill’s eyes and knew she could never change his mind.

  Bill moved to get up. ‘Well, I’d best be getting back to my digs. It’s almost midnight. I have to leave by five o’clock.’

  Before he could get up Emma reached for him and kissed him gently on the mouth. He drew her closer and they kissed again. For a long time they clung to each other, as they never had before. Eventually Emma pulled away and stood up. When Bill rose to his feet she took his hand and pressed it to her breast.

  ‘Stay with me tonight, Bill,’ she whispered. When he opened his mouth to speak she covered it with her other hand. ‘There’s no need to say anything. There’s no time left for talk.’

  She took his hand and led him upstairs to her bedroom. The whole house was already asleep. Without a word they undressed and slipped into bed. Bill gently explored her body for the first time, then he gently but urgently made love to her, cherishing the unexpected moment. His happiness was her joy and she made love to him willingly and ardently without the need to whisper promises of love or commitment.

  Afterward they lay in each others arms, silently and sleeplessly. Emma lay so close to Bill she could hear his heart beating. Lying in the darkness she wondered how fate could be so cruel, allowing her to respect and admire a man so much, yet deny her the fulfillment of falling in love.

  Just before four they rose to face the day. Emma switched on a bedside lamp. As Bill dressed she went to her wardrobe. At the end of the clothes rack was her father’s old Light Horseman’s uniform. From the shelf above it she took down the emu-plumed broad-brimmed hat.

  It was still dark when Bill stepped out the front door onto the porch. The street outside was deserted. He drew a deep breath and tried to smile. Emma pushed her father’s hat into his hands.

  ‘Wear this in Spain,’ she said. ‘I know my father would want you to. It will let them know Australians care enough to send them our very best. Wear it with pride for all of us.’

  Bill hugged Emma tightly. Then he was gone.

  *

  Since the brief period when Bowes-Scott stores had cancelled their standing orders, demand for Sydney Styles’ products had soared as employment and consumer confidence slowly increased in the wake of the Depression. But five years of endless work, day in and day out, had taken its toll on Emma. She had never felt so run down and exhausted in her life.

  Not only had business increased from Bowes-Scott, but Marshall’s Stores, a large Sydney clothier Emma had solicited at the time of the crises, had begun placing large orders. And David Jones, although they had not ordered yet, had shown keen interest in Sydney Styles’ products. Now every square foot of factory floor space was in use. More workers were hired and more equipment was purchased. And Emma was pleasantly surprised at just how willing the bank was to accommodate her every financial need.

  Neale the Nib and Emma still worked every waking hour but they each ignored the other’s advice to ease up. Bruce had helped out at the factory since the day after he arrived in Sydney. Having his strong back to help in shipping and receiving was a godsend. But although he worked long and hard and had never said a word about returning to Queensland, Emma knew his heart and mind were still in the bush. And she knew that, like Stephen and Bill, he too would eventually leave her and Sydney far behind.

  Emma often thought fondly of Bill and she tried not to read the worsening reports in the newspapers of the carnage in Spain. She heard no word at all from Stephen but he was never far from her mind. It made her bitter that the Depression had driven them both into exile.

  Emma was at her desk and thinking of Stephen one day when Kathleen phoned to say they had an unexpected visitor. When Emma asked who the visitor was Kathleen wouldn’t say. All she said was that Emma must come home right away and be sure to bring Bruce with her.

  When Emma and Bruce arrived at the house they were astonished to see Aunt Laura taking tea in the living room with Kathleen and Molly. Laura quickly got up from the sofa and embraced them both in turn. Molly left the room to bring fresh tea and scones.

  Both Emma and Bruce could feel the tension in the air


  ‘It’s so wonderful to see you all living as a family again,’ Laura said when she sat back down. ‘I’m so glad things have worked out so well for you here in Sydney.’

  ‘Is Uncle Patrick in Sydney with you?’ Bruce asked cautiously.

  ‘No, he’s in Canberra,’ Laura replied quickly. ‘I’m on my way there now. I have just a few hours between trains. It seems it’s necessary for me to meet people down there. The party say it’s important that Patrick be seen as a family man, a caring man, a man with good old fashioned values. You see, Patrick is going to resign from the Senate and run for a seat in the House of Representatives so he can be a prime ministerial candidate in next year's election if Mr Lyons bows out.’

  Emma grimaced at the prospect.

  Laura sighed despondently. ‘Yes. Ridiculous isn’t it? It’s all so false and hypocritical.’

  ‘Who’s behind him, Aunt Laura?’ Emma asked. ‘Surely not Joseph Lyons?’

  ‘Oh, no. Royston Silver’s behind it all. He and your uncle have been as thick as thieves, in business as well as politics since Elliot married his daughter.’

  There was a strained silence. No one seemed to know what to say.

  Eventually Laura said, ‘I know I have no right to come here after everything that’s happened. But I’ve been so miserable for so long. I’d leave him if I could, you know. I already tried. But he said it would wreck his political career and if I did he would throw me out without a penny. Now, I feel like a prisoner at Essex Downs. I see no one. Not even Elliot. I haven’t spoken to him since I discovered Beth ran away from Yallambee because she was pregnant by him.’

  There was another period of embarrassed silence.

  ‘And I never see my grandson,’ Laura continued sadly. ‘Because under the circumstances I can’t bring myself to set foot on Yallambee, and they won’t bring him to Essex Downs.’

  Emma said, ‘If it ever all gets too much, Aunt Laura, there’s always a place for you here with us.’