by Anna Jacobs
‘I thought I’d be with my Freddie tonight!’ Irene said as she took her nightclothes out of the suitcase and then pushed it under the stretcher bed. ‘I do miss him.’
‘You’ll be with your husband when you get to your farm.’ So would she, Norah thought. And how would that go? After the one kiss, Andrew had made no attempt to touch her. Was he perhaps not a very passionate man? If so, that would be a big disappointment.
And what was she doing brooding, when she had a child to feed and was ravenous herself? ‘Let’s go down to the dining room.’
They rejoined their men folk and found a hearty lamb stew and fresh crusty bread waiting for them, followed by fruit – melons, which many of them hadn’t tried before, and grapes, a luxury item in England. Here, it seemed, they were very cheap at this time of year and many people grew their own.
Before they went to bed, a roster was read out because the women had to take a share of the cooking and cleaning. Norah found she’d be on early duty, getting breakfast ready, which she didn’t mind.
As soon as the meal ended, she turned to Andrew. ‘It’s been a long day and Janie’s exhausted. I think we’ll go to bed now.’
He looked out to where some of the bigger lads were playing catchers. ‘Those rascals of mine seem to have got a new lease of life, but I’m tired too.’
When would they be sent to their new homes? she wondered as she lay in bed. She was fed up with being ordered around like a schoolgirl, wanted to start her new life and try to pull the family together. They still felt like two separate families and that was no way to go on.
And Andrew never seemed to want to spend time with her. If he’d suggested putting the children to bed and going for a walk round the grounds, she’d have done it, been glad to talk. But he hadn’t.
And she’d been hesitant to suggest it to him, fearing a rebuff.
What sort of life would they have together if they didn’t talk? How would she go on a farm? There were all sorts of questions bubbling up in her brain, but very few answers.
Well, she’d made her choice now and there was no use grumbling. She just had to get on with it.
Gil and another man were sent down to Northcliffe to help set up a new group. Pete was Australian, another ex-serviceman. He was to take up one of the blocks and act as a sort of deputy foreman to a new group.
So many settlers had been sent out from England that the authorities had decided to release more land. Gil was assigned to be foreman of Special Group 1, which was a farce, really. He’d seen the general area, but didn’t know where the land they were to be allotted was, or the exact facilities that were waiting there for the settlers. He too would be allotted a piece of land. He’d almost told them not to bother, then had decided to accept it. If he didn’t want to stay, he could maybe sell it.
He met Pete at the railway station and since his head was thumping with a hangover, sat quietly in a corner of the compartment, making no attempt to start a conversation.
‘Easy job this,’ Pete said as the train set off, ‘telling others what to do.’
Gil stared at him in surprise. ‘Easy! Teaching ignorant Poms everything about dairy farming here in Western Australia. You can’t mean that.’
‘Well, I read in that pamphlet that the farms are already laid out, so it won’t be too difficult, surely?’
‘I think you’ll find yourself with more to do than you expect. I went down to have a look round a few weeks ago and they’ve hardly got anything set up down there, let alone cleared and laid out the farms. The town has a store and a couple of huts, and that’s all. They can call it a town. I wouldn’t. So unless they’ve had an army of workers down there in the past few weeks, I can’t see much being ready.’
‘But it said they’d surveyed the town site, marked out thirty-two quarter-acre blocks. There must be some people and amenities there,’ Pete protested.
‘There aren’t, you know. They’ve only recently done the town site survey. They’ve not got any houses built or any businesses going apart from the one store.’
He’d brought some gear of his own with him, including a tent, to make sure he had somewhere under cover to sleep. He didn’t even trust the Board to provide a roof. It was getting towards the end of summer now, and he’d been told it rained more in Northcliffe than in Perth, and was cooler, too, so he thought it best to be prepared. He wanted to buy a horse and cart too, if he could find them at a reasonable price, but would buy those locally.
Pete scowled at him. ‘If the authorities haven’t got things set up, why are they rushing this new group through and sending us down?’
‘Beats me.’ Gil thrust his hands into his pockets and stretched his legs out. He often found it hard to understand what those in charge were thinking of, they did such damned stupid things. Someone made a decision without thinking if it was possible, then left the poor underlings to try to carry it out.
He’d learned in the Army to keep his mouth shut and make the best of things in your own way. No use complaining, just get on with it.
Three days after their arrival at Fremantle, the settlers were notified that they’d be leaving the following morning. Their group was to travel by train to a town called Pemberton. A map was displayed and throughout the day there seemed always to be people near it, pointing, discussing, speculating as to what they would find down south.
Norah was glad that Irene and Freddie were in their group, but to her dismay, the Grenvilles were in it as well. She tried not to let her feelings show, but Bert was as sour-tempered as his wife and she didn’t trust him, though he’d given her no reason for this.
They set off early in the morning, snatching a quick breakfast of bread and jam, and taking with them a package of sandwiches and metal bottles of water.
The journey seemed very long indeed and even with the windows open, the railway carriage soon grew unbearably hot. They’d got used to hot weather on board the ship, but there had usually been a sea breeze. Today the air was still and heat seemed to press down on you like a heavy weight. The children drank their water then complained about being thirsty.
‘Keep hold of those bottles and we’ll fill them every time we stop,’ Andrew said. ‘I’ve been in hot countries before and you need to drink a lot more water.’
Luckily the train stopped several times and at each stop they were able to buy something to eat and drink, pies, sandwiches or cakes, and cups of dark, stewed tea, which normally she’d have turned her nose up at. They were also able to refill their water bottles. Indeed, the station staff seemed to expect that.
Norah had never in her whole life felt as thirsty as this. But then, she’d never experienced such heat in England. Her face was glowing and her hair felt damp with sweat.
Some people grumbled, but one or two seemed to love the heat, and to Norah’s surprise, Irene was one of those. Freddie, however, looked desperately uncomfortable and complained several times.
As if that would make any difference! It wasn’t setting a good example to the children to see a grown man grumbling like that.
The scenery between stops seemed to consist mainly of ‘bush’ as everyone called the countryside that hadn’t been settled. There were trees with dull green leaves, some very tall, and sparse undergrowth, very unlike that in England.
The first time the children saw a kangaroo hopping across a piece of open ground as the train passed by, they got very excited, but after they’d seen a lot of them, they lost interest. It was a relief when they fell asleep one by one.
Andrew gave her a weary smile and said in a low voice, ‘Bit of an endurance feat, isn’t it?’
‘It is rather.’ She fanned herself with a newspaper they’d bought at the station, knowing her cheeks were still flushed.
‘It only gets this hot in the summer, thank goodness. Eh, I’ll be glad to get there.’ He leaned his head back and soon he too was asleep.
Norah wished she could drop off so easily, but she’d never found it easy to take naps in the dayti
me so she stared out of the window and day-dreamed of having her own kitchen, of looking after her family, cooking, washing, doing all the familiar chores which added up to making a home.
And then there were the unfamiliar things ahead of her, not just milking cows and living on a farm, but sleeping with her new husband.
No wonder she couldn’t sleep.
It was late at night and had long been dark when they arrived in Pemberton, because you didn’t get long summer evenings nearer the equator, Andrew Boyd had said. They’d been expecting a town, but this place didn’t seem more than a village to Irene.
She shook Freddie awake and they got ready to leave the train, but before they did, a man walked up and down shouting, ‘Leave your luggage on the train. Leave your bags on the train. They’ll be quite safe and you’ll need both hands to eat and drink.’
They found some people from the towns waiting on the platform with corned beef sandwiches and cups of tea. The tea had been brewed in a big square tin labelled Laurel Kerosene. Irene hoped it had been thoroughly washed out. She accepted a cup from a smiling woman, who’d scooped it out with a jug.
‘Where do we sleep?’ Freddie asked a man who seemed to be in charge.
‘On the train. There isn’t anywhere else.’
A few feet away Bert Grenville exploded into anger at this news. ‘What? We’ve been travelling all day and we’re tired. Surely you can do better than that for us?’
The man’s expression tightened. ‘The government didn’t think it out properly. There is nowhere round here to put so many people up. And you’ll be comfier on the train than on a hard wooden floor somewhere.’
Bert cursed.
‘Mind your language. There are ladies present. We’re volunteers, doing this as a favour to you. We’ve stayed up late to feed you and you might show a little gratitude.’
Susan tugged at her husband’s arm and he stepped back, still scowling and with no word of apology.
Irene sipped her tea, welcoming its warmth because the night was quite cool, especially after such a hot day.
Standing next to them were the Boyds. Little Janie was so tired she had to be persuaded to eat and drink, and Irene watched wistfully. Surely one day she’d be able to have a child? She didn’t want to produce as many as her mother had, but three or four children would be wonderful. It wouldn’t be a proper family without children.
Freddie didn’t seem to care about children half as much as she did, but he would once they arrived, she was sure he would.
And then, after they’d queued to use the lavatories, it was back to the train to sleep. She snuggled down with her head on Freddie’s shoulder, thinking what a strange few days these had been. And would get even stranger, she was sure. But she didn’t mind. They were here at last. Well, almost.
6
As soon as he had collected the things he needed, Gil set off for Northcliffe. He left early, once there was enough light to see the way, before the sun had risen, driving there in the horse and cart he’d bought for himself during the few days he’d spent in the south-west. He reckoned that form of transport would be easier to maintain than a car. He wasn’t much of a mechanic, but he did know about horses.
Pete was glad of a lift out to the new town, but both of them were horrified by how rough the track was. Gil let Daisy move along it at her own pace. Like him, she was no longer young, but not old yet, a sensible mare, to whom he’d taken a liking at first sight.
In Northcliffe they found a clerk from the Group Settlement Board, who had arrived in a delivery truck. He’d been waiting there for their group, stuck for a way to get out to their blocks. Good organisation, that, but you couldn’t blame a clerk like this one for what the higher-ups did. Gil offered the man a ride out and back again.
‘Thank you. I appreciate that.’
‘We try to help one another in the country,’ Gil said mildly. It was obvious this fellow was a townie. What would he know about settling the land?
They jogged along mostly in silence, but at a particularly bad patch, where they had to detour round a fallen tree trunk, Gil couldn’t keep quiet any longer. ‘Crikey! Couldn’t they have done better than this? You can’t call it a road, not by any stretch of the imagination, and what it’ll be like in winter, I dread to think.’
The clerk, who’d got off and helped them at least, rather than expecting them to do all the work, shrugged. ‘I just do as I’m told. But I will report this road as needing urgent attention.’
It wasn’t hard to find their land, because they just followed the track and turned off where they’d been told. It was easy to see which block was meant to be the starting camp for the whole group, because there were piles of tents and equipment lying around, looking as if they’d been dumped there haphazardly.
Gil reined in his horse, cursing under his breath. The materials were there, wood and corrugated iron, but not a single temporary shack had been erected. And the first half of the group was due here later today. Where were the poor sods expected to sleep? A quick glance sideways showed him that the other two were lost for words. ‘This can’t be the right place, surely?’ he said to the clerk. ‘There’s nowhere for them to live.’
‘There’ve been so many settlers we’re a bit behind on the building.’
‘A bit behind!’ Gil bit back angry words. It wasn’t this man’s fault. And shouting at him wouldn’t do any good.
He and Pete fed and watered the horse while the clerk went round the piles of equipment, searching for something. Luckily there was a small creek to one side, easily identified by the greenery round it, so none of them would go thirsty. When Daisy was happily munching from her nose bag, with a bucket of water beside her, Gil went back to see what was to happen next.
‘They did send some tents,’ the clerk said, as if that was something to be pleased about. ‘They’re good tents, too. Ex-Army.’
‘They didn’t erect them, though, did they? And by the time the people get here, it’ll be late afternoon – if we’re lucky it’ll still be light, but who knows?’ Gil prayed for patience. ‘Do you at least have a list of what equipment there should be?’
‘The list is supposed to be here waiting for us, because they weren’t sure what they could bring out this time round.’The man looked around as if expecting a list to waft into his hands.
So they walked round the piles again, lifting things and poking around, but there was no sign of any paperwork, let alone a detailed list, just crates and piles of heavier equipment, corrugated iron and wood for the shacks, all sorts of bits and pieces.
‘I’ll, um, have to go back to Pemberton and find out what’s gone wrong,’ the official said. ‘Unfortunately, a foreman can’t take responsibility for things without a list, so you can’t use these yet.’
Townies! Gil thought in disgust. Couldn’t organise a washday at a laundry, that lot couldn’t. And he’d bet the people in Pemberton would send up to Perth for instructions. ‘List or not, we need to get these tents up so that the settlers have somewhere to sleep tonight.’
He waited, but the fellow didn’t make any suggestions about what to do next, so Gil had a quick think about the best way to sort things out since the settlers were already on their way here. ‘You drive him back to Northcliffe, Pete, and while you’re there you can see if anyone knows about this list. I’ll stay here and make a start on finding out exactly what they’ve given us.’ He smiled at the official. ‘I can make my own list. Will that satisfy you?’
‘But who’s to check it?’
‘I was a corporal in the Army and I’ve never been accused of dishonesty before,’ Gil said through gritted teeth. ‘Are you going to be the first to do it?’
The man looked at him nervously, opened his mouth, then shut it again.
‘And bring some food back with you, Pete. I can’t find any here. We’ll have to feed them when they arrive.’
‘I’m not sure there’s authorisation for more food,’ the official said. ‘There was to be some le
ft here. I’m sure if you look more carefully—’ He let out a squeak as Gil moved to stand nose to nose with him.
‘We’ve already checked that. There’s no – food – here, except for those loaves we brought with us from Pemberton. Good thing we had a bit of gumption, isn’t it? And the sense to put them in one of the big tin boxes we unpacked even without a list, or they’d be eaten by ants while we’re waiting for the settlers to arrive. You’d better find a way of authorising some more tinned food and potatoes, because I’m not staying if you don’t do that. Which will leave you to manage the settlers.’
‘And if he doesn’t stay, I won’t, either,’ Pete said at once, winking at Gil.
‘No, no! Don’t do that. I’ll authorise it myself. I’m sure if I write and explain why to my superiors, they’ll understand.’
‘Good. You do that. Write them a nice long letter. They’ll be able to file it carefully with all the other letters. My deputy can bring the food back in the cart this afternoon after he’s dropped you.’
Pete had turned slightly sideways to hide another grin, which was nearly Gil’s undoing.
When the others had gone, Gil closed his eyes and spent a minute or two listening to the birds and humming insects, letting the warmth of the sun soak into him. That cheerful chorus calmed something inside him.
It’d not be peaceful here for long, though, not when the settlers arrived and found nothing ready for them. They’d be angry – and they’d have a right to be.
Opening his eyes, feeling refreshed by those few peaceful moments, he decided to reconnoitre the whole area and see if there was anywhere better to set up camp. They’d passed a few of the blocks as they drove in, and he’d been glad to see that someone had cleared the first twenty yards or so next to the track. They must have planted it with grass, too, because you didn’t get stretches of grass like that occurring naturally. The track continued past the camp. He strode along it as it wound its way through more of this group’s twenty farms.