‘Have you talked to an Aboriginal girl?’ I wonder if I should tell her about Winnie.
Valmai shakes her head. ‘Some people came to help Pa with the farming and they had children, but Mama wouldn’t let me play with them. She said they would steal my dolls.’
I look at her in surprise. I can’t imagine Winnie doing that. ‘I’ve seen a girl in the scrub. She looks like she could be a princess.’
Valmai’s eyes shine. ‘Truly?’
‘And a man who camps,’ I say carefully.
Valmai frowns. ‘Is he called Clarrie?’
‘Yes.’ Now I’m nervous. What will she say?
Valmai lowers her voice. ‘He’s a swaggie. He was married to an Aboriginal woman, but she died in childbirth and he camps around here to be near her country.’
‘He doesn’t look Aboriginal.’
‘He’s not. Pa said he came from the West Coast. He was a farmer but there was no rain and he couldn’t get water for his sheep. He had to take them all into the scrub and shoot them.’ I stare at her in horror. ‘Yes, every single one.’
I wonder if it’s true or a folktale, like the stories about our gypsies in Cornwall.
We spend the rest of the time making honeycomb in their lean-to kitchen, but Valmai won’t let Elowen help. I pluck up the courage to say, ‘You’re being bossy – let one of us stir for a while.’
She looks at me in hurt surprise. ‘I’m just making sure it’s done properly.’ She doesn’t say anything else to me, not even when she wraps honeycomb in newspaper for our family. I wave as we go but she doesn’t wave back. I don’t have a friend at all now – Maylene’s never written, Ida’s nasty, I can’t find Winnie and now Valmai doesn’t like me.
When we arrive home I know something is wrong. Emily Carthew is in the kitchen cooking dinner. She doesn’t have her hat on but she still looks magnificent.
‘Where’s Mam?’
‘She’s lying down, love.’
I turn to go and Emily catches hold of my arm. ‘Kerenza, your mother had a fall, and your father is worried about’ – she pauses – ‘her condition.’
I nod and run to our bedroom tent. Da is sitting on their mattress but he stands when he sees me. ‘Keren, sit with Mam. I’ll be back in a minute.’
Mam is awake but she looks too pale.
‘Are you all right?’ I don’t say the word ‘baby’ but surely she realises I know about it.
She reaches up and pushes a stray hair behind my ear. ‘I need to be staying with Aunt Janna for a while.’ I nod at her, trying to show I understand. ‘I’m not well and I’ll be closer to the doctor.’
‘Yes, Mam.’
‘‘Ee’ll be needing to look after Elowen and Kitto. Keep going to school.’
‘What about the washing on Mondays?’
‘‘Ee’ll have to be doing it on Saturday.’
I draw in a breath.
She smiles quickly. ‘We won’t be telling Nanny, but this is a time of necessity and we have to do what we must.’
‘You’ll write?’
‘Yes. I won’t be long away.’ She sounds sad. ‘Maybe I should be taking ‘ee girls with me.’
I think of Winnie, Rouge and Pockets. They’ll have to come back sometime. Months ago I would have jumped at the chance of leaving, but not now. ‘We’ll be fine.’ I hold her hand. ‘Mam …’ What would I do if something happened to her?
She gives my hand a squeeze. ‘Uncle Malachi will be here and Da will return dreckly. Don’t bother making butter – they can be eating dripping. Don’t let Elowen use the irons.’
‘No, Mam.’
‘If they give ‘ee trouble while Da’s away, tell Uncle Malachi. He’ll be pulling them into line.’
I smile. Uncle Malachi didn’t make a good impression at first, but he’s grown on us. Even Jacob’s getting nicer. Though I don’t like to think that’s because of Valmai. Was that why I was cross with her today? Was I jealous?
I pack Mam’s dress basket. It is the saddest thing to see Da lift Mam and carry her out to the dray.
Elowen bursts into tears as we follow them out. ‘We’ll see her again, won’t we?’
‘Of course.’ I shrug away my own fears and pick her up so Mam can hug her. Even Kitto has tears running down his face. He stands stiff as Mam bends down to hug him too.
‘‘Ee be good for Kerenza, and be helping with the jobs.’ Kitto doesn’t say anything, so I hope he heard Mam.
Harry and Jacob watch appalled as if Mam is their mother. I’ve never thought of Jacob as sensitive, but there he is looking at Mam as if he’s fighting tears, and he’s fourteen. It makes me worried. Perhaps being older he knows something I don’t.
‘Kerenza.’ I turn back to Mam.
‘I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.’
I feel like Kitto looks – if I say anything or hug Mam again I’ll sob in front of everyone – and I press my lips together so nothing escapes.
The last I see of her is her small wave as Da turns Drummer and the dray full of mallee stumps for sale in the city on to the track to Hampton Well.
I take Elowen inside the kitchen. ‘You come too, Kitto, and have a wash.’
‘No.’ He crosses his arms over his chest. ‘I want Mam to wash me.’
Annoyance rises up so fast I could slap him. ‘You’re too old to act like this, Kitto.’ But he won’t budge. I have Elowen to look after, so I can’t deal with him right now. ‘Wash yourself then. If you don’t come in soon I’ll tell Uncle Malachi.’
Seventh of September, 1911
Dear Wenna
I miss you. We are doing well in school.
I stop writing. What a boring letter. I really want to write about Mam, and how Kitto is being difficult again, but how can I do that? Wenna won’t receive this for six weeks and what can she do? She’ll only worry. So will Nanny.
21
After ten days Da returns. What a relief. We crowd around him, even Kitto, Harry and Jacob. Da says Mam is fine with Aunt Janna, and he produces a gift for Elowen.
‘This is from Mary Jane.’ He hands her a basket with a lid.
Elowen peeks inside, then bursts into tears. I help her take off the lid. By then everyone can hear the miaowing. Inside is the most adorable kitten. It looks just like Willow, black and white with white socks.
‘How did they know about Willow?’ I ask.
‘Your mam were looking at the litter and said that one looks like the cat the girls left behind. Then Mary Jane, who never uttered a word the whole time, said as clear as a bell: “That one’s for Elowen”.’ He smiles in apology at Kitto and me, but I don’t mind. To see Elowen so happy is worth it.
Da gives me an envelope from Mam. There’s a card: a real one with roses and angels on it and a brooch inside with a kookaburra sitting on a branch. ‘You’ve been a real little trouper with Mam not well.’ Da’s voice breaks. A tear falls and Uncle Malachi puts an arm around his back.
He hands out the mail then: postcards from Wenna for Elowen and Kitto, and an envelope from Cornwall for me. I help Elowen read hers. It’s about the horses at Ivy Cottage and Willow and a sentence about Josiah. Wenna wouldn’t be able to write a postcard without mentioning Josiah.
Later as she lies down, Elowen says, ‘I think I’m going to call this kitten Willow too.’
I read my letter once she’s asleep. It’s written on a postcard as usual. The picture is of Penponds.
Twenty-seventh of July, 1911
Dear Kerry Berry
Guess what! Josiah has asked me properly to marry him. Now I’m wearing the ring he gave me every day. He’s spoken to Nanny and Aunty Dorcas and we all decided that there’s no reason to wait.
I stop reading. I won’t see the wedding. But what did I expect? Of course I will never see her dressed in a lacy white dress and veil. Tears prick my eyes as I keep reading.
When we see you again we can have a wedding party.
I drop the card. I never knew Wenna to be cruel. By the time Da mak
es enough money with the crops to travel on a ship Wenna will be old and have children. But she sounds so happy I write back, finishing the card I started.
Sixteenth of September, 1911
Dear Wenna
I’m glad you’re happy and I hope the wedding goes well.
I don’t want to write any more about the wedding so I tell her about the horses.
Queenie is going to have a foal. We hope it’s just like Bobbie who is the most gorgeous stallion ever. I love the sound of all the horses snorting into the trough early in the mornings.
Your loving sis, Kerenza
I wonder who will be her bridesmaid and flower girl, the special positions that should be mine and Elowen’s. And I can’t even tell Valmai about it. I put my head on my arms and weep for all I have lost. But I do it softly so Elowen doesn’t wake.
Da wakes me in the morning with a song he’s made up. ‘The best of the morning to you, my love.’ I open one eye. ‘There’s something I want to show you. A gift were brought in the night.’
‘Not Mam?’ My breath catches in my throat.
Da takes a moment to answer. ‘It’s not that good a surprise.’
I throw on my dress and cardigan, and lace up my boots. Dawn is streaking across the horizon when I’m ready, and Da tells me to shut my eyes. He leads me to the canvas shed. I can tell because I can smell Gertrude’s muck and hear snickers from the horses. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, Keren. Keep those eyes shut till I tell you to open them.’ He turns me around, then, ‘Open!’
I see Harry and Jacob and Kitto first, watching. Even Jacob looks pleased. Then I see it. ‘The foal! Oh it’s gorgeous. It’s a miniature Bobbie.’
He’s so wobbly and sweet. His tail looks like it will drop off with the happiness of being alive. ‘What will we name him?’ I ask.
Kitto speaks up. ‘Prancer. Look at him dancing around.’
I’m spellbound. I wish Mam and Winnie could see him.
Harry says, ‘He’s the future of our herd, our next sire.’
It makes me think of the baby. The baby will be the first Australian person in our family.
It’s not often I can see beyond the next day’s chores, and thinking of Prancer and the baby is like a candle light in the dark. Even though there’s no rain and the crop hasn’t grown, and I don’t have a friend, nice things can happen too.
On the way to school, Harry rides with me while Jacob takes Kitto and Elowen for a change. We talk about Prancer until right out of the blue, as Harry would say, he mentions Aunt Janna.
‘You must miss her.’ I know what missing feels like.
‘Yes.’ His voice is quiet. ‘With your mum in the city too, it’s made me think, Jacob too –’ But he doesn’t finish.
‘About what?’ I prompt.
He hesitates, then says with a rush, ‘Our mother isn’t our real mum.’
I frown at the track ahead. What could he mean?
‘Our mum died having a baby. We were all so upset we weren’t nice to each other. And Jacob couldn’t even do his exam.’
‘That’s so sad. Was the baby Mary Jane?’ It shocks me, for I realise Mam could die too. No wonder the boys looked so horrified when she left.
‘Yeah, Mary Jane thinks she is her mum.’ I can imagine by his voice how bleak his eyes must look. I try to think of something nice to say. ‘Aunt Janna is a lovely lady.’
‘She didn’t come to the Mallee like yours did.’
I choose my words carefully. ‘It would be hard for the twins here right now.’
‘She always has more time for the twins and for Mary Jane.’
I’ve never heard Harry talk like this. ‘That would happen even if she was your real mother. When Mam had Elowen, Kitto and I couldn’t sit on her lap any more – Elowen was always there – but I got used to it. Mam still loves me.’
I stop short at what I’ve just said to comfort someone else and realise, that with all her gruffness, Mam does love me. Warmth rises up in me and I reach around to hug Harry. ‘I’m sure Aunt Janna loves you – we do and we’ve only known you six months.’
I turn back to the front as Harry flicks the reins and Tilly breaks into a trot.
22
The thing I’ve always dreaded finally happens. It’s early and I go to the long drop. As usual I watch the gap under the door. I hear the rasping of the scales first, and a reptilian head peers in. I’m hoping it’s a blue tongue lizard, but a snake slides into the long drop. It’s a yard long and brown. There’s not enough room for both of us in here. It’s the quickest I’ve ever pulled up my drawers. I stand on the seat and the snake lies still awhile. What if it slides up the bucket? Could I jump over it and get through the door before it notices? Is anyone else awake? The snake moves again, meandering sideways towards me, and I scream. ‘Help!’
It feels an age before someone comes. ‘What’s wrong with you?’
It’s Jacob, and I groan. ‘There’s a snake.’ He’ll call me a gazob for sure.
‘Hang on!’ And then he’s gone. He’s left me, and I can’t help it, I cry. How could he do that?
Then I see his hand curl around the door. ‘Can I come in?’
‘Yes, quick. It’s moving again.’
Jacob pushes the door open and the snake swivels. Jacob leans against the door and uses the forked end of a stick to pin the snake to the ground. Then he calmly picks it up around the neck. I tense myself in case he shoves it in my face, but he disappears with it.
When he returns from the scrub I’m sitting under the pine trees calming down. I could have died.
He sits beside me.
‘I thought you’d left me,’ I say.
‘Had to get a stick to catch it with. You’ll get used to snakes soon.’
He’ll probably tell everyone at dinner what an idiot I am.
‘What did you do with it?’
‘Let it go in the scrub.’
We sit quietly as the sun rises and I wonder if I should milk Gertrude now.
Then he says, ‘Harry told you about our mum.’
I nod warily.
‘He told me something else too.’
He doesn’t say what that is so I ask a question. ‘Why were you so mean? It was worse than teasing.’
Jacob shakes his head. ‘You reminded me of what I am, I guess.’ I frown at him. ‘The English kids at our school looked down on Cornish people. It didn’t take long to learn I had to be like them.’ He looks up but I don’t hold his gaze. ‘Anyway, I thought Harry would want to spend time with you rather than me.’
I stare at him in surprise. A big boy like him was jealous of me? But isn’t that what I thought about Valmai, and I lost her? I hear in my head the words Mam said when Elowen was born, ‘Hearts be growing to let more folks in.’ I should have remembered.
‘It’s not a competition,’ I say, echoing Mam’s words. ‘There’s room for us all.’ My eyes sting remembering Clarrie saying the same thing.
‘I know, and it’s been better since Dad’s talking to me about farming. He’s realised I’m better at bookkeeping than he is too, so I’m doing that now. Miss Polkinghorn helps me if I get stuck.’
Then I say something risky. ‘So you think I’m all right now?’
He looks at me the same way he did after Valmai’s cart accident. ‘Harry told me what you did when the well caved in.’
I stand up so fast the log teeters. ‘I told him not to.’
‘Why?’
‘I – I thought you’d hate me, or feel you owe me.’
He gives me a proper smile, and I gape at him. ‘I don’t owe you now. That snake’s made us even.’
That evening Harry says they saw a blue tongue lizard on the way home from school. ‘Banjo shied, but at least he didn’t dump us on the road.’
‘The snakes and lizards have woken up,’ Uncle Malachi says. ‘They’ll be hungry and aggressive, so be watchful. And keep an eye on the eggs, Kitto.’
Harry and I feed the horses
and Gertrude. I don’t tell Harry off for telling Jacob what I did; it seems to have worked out for the best. I forget about it all when Prancer dances around us, his tail in the air as if it’s on a string.
‘Look at Bobbie.’ Harry’s voice is curt.
‘He seems more tired than usual,’ I say. Bobbie doesn’t even snort and lift his head. He shifts his hooves but stumbles and only just manages to stay on his feet. He won’t even eat his favourite oats. We quickly call the men over. ‘Something’s wrong with Bobbie, Da.’
Da frowns. ‘He stamped and put his head to the ground this afternoon, but we thought it was just a rabbit.’
Harry has his hand on Bobbie’s face. ‘Look at his nose, Uncle Clemo. It’s swelling. Could it be snake bite?’
‘Good Lord,’ Uncle Malachi says, ‘we’d have a chance if it was his leg.’
‘Can a snake hurt a big Clydie like Bobbie?’ I ask.
‘You better believe it,’ Uncle Malachi says.
‘Could we cut it and suck the poison out?’ Harry asks.
Uncle Malachi shakes his head slowly. ‘Not on the nose. Cut two short pieces of rubber hose for his nostrils, Harry. They’re swelling so much he won’t be able to breathe.’
Elowen’s holding Willow and crying into his fur, so I put an arm around her.
Uncle Malachi glances at us. ‘We just have to hope the snake gave a warning bite and not all its venom.’
‘But their bite is worse at the beginning of the snake season,’ Jacob says.
Elowen sobs harder and Uncle Malachi says, ‘The little tackers don’t need to know that, son.’ Jacob bites his lip, and I’m surprised. He never used to care about hurting our feelings.
Kitto, Elowen and I say goodnight to Bobbie. He can’t stand any more and flops to the ground. Kitto tries to coax him to drink from the bucket, but he’s not interested. I put my arms around his neck but he doesn’t have one whinny or snicker for me. Queenie nudges him but he ignores her. His eyes don’t see us; it’s as if they’re made of glass.
Elowen puts her head against Willow’s. ‘Is he going to die, Krenza?’
Kerenza: A New Australian Page 10