by Anna Jacobs
As September turned into October and edged towards November, the weather grew much warmer again, though the nights could still be chilly.
Norah’s new garden was full of plants, which she watched over carefully for fear of wild animals intruding: peas, beans, marrow, cauliflower, lettuce, cabbage and tomatoes which didn’t need greenhouses to grow here. After rabbits got in and ate some of the young plants, Andrew fenced it off with wire netting, digging the netting in at the bottom and putting rocks along it, so that no wild creatures could spoil the harvest.
They all welcomed the fresh greens, seemed to crave green food, somehow. Norah had ensured they had dried peas all through the winter, cooking them the Lancashire way till they were mushy and serving them sometimes in a cup with vinegar, a treat the children loved.
After perusing the catalogues she’d sent away for more seeds and cuttings of fruit bushes, asking advice on how to grow them from Gil, who laughed and confessed he’d never been a gardener. So the groupies all pooled their knowledge of the old world, asked other groups and learned together what would grow here in the new world and how best to encourage it.
On Norah’s birthday Andrew bought her a grape vine, which he had sent for from a catalogue. The sight of it reduced her to tears.
‘It’ll take years to fruit,’ he said apologetically. ‘If you don’t like it, I can—’
‘I do. I love it. I want apple trees too, once the house is built and we know where we stand.’
The vine was a source of great interest in the area, and when Gil said you could take cuttings from the wood which would have to be ruthlessly pruned at the beginning of the following winter, she rashly promised cuttings to all her neighbours.
Much of their shopping was done by catalogue, with the staple groceries bought in the Northcliffe store, huge bags of flour and sugar, tins of jam and corned beef. Sacks of apples in season. And sometimes farmers or smallholders came in from Manjimup or Pemberton selling their produce, heavy sacks of potatoes and onions, cabbages and cauliflowers.
‘It’s such a good life here,’ Norah said to a friend on one of their sing-song evenings. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy.’
‘Hard work, though,’ Pam said ruefully. ‘I nearly didn’t come tonight, I was exhausted. You never seem to flag.’
‘I do get a bit tired at times, but only when I’ve worked harder than usual, like on washdays. Normally I’m all right the next day.’
‘Lucky you.’ But Pam didn’t say that with any malice.
Most of the women were good friends now, Norah thought contentedly. And even Janie was happy with her little friend. She was so glad they’d come here, happiest of all that she’d married Andrew.
By December the weather was hot and there’d been no rain for weeks. Grass that wasn’t near a water source had turned a beige colour, looking like straw. Andrew was glad to have the creek bringing a stripe of green across his block and blessed Gil for suggesting they move here. He watched the level of the water anxiously, but it kept flowing, albeit at a reduced rate.
As the dry weather continued, he dug out a deeper pool, where water would collect to be scooped up for their garden. It was hard work and the hole had to be lined with stones, but quite pleasant to stand bare-legged in the water in such hot weather.
The children paddled whenever they were allowed, but downstream and he didn’t let them stir up too much mud, insisting they walk about gently. Plodging, his grandma had called it when he was a lad.
Norah began making preparations for Christmas, but it didn’t feel right, somehow, to celebrate in such warm weather.
‘We’ll kill one of the chooks,’ she said rashly one day. ‘We can buy another couple of pullets.’
Janie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I won’t let you touch Fluffy. And I won’t eat any of them.’
Both parents tried to make her understand. ‘This is a farm, love. Animals are for food, whether they lay eggs or provide us with meat.’
But the child remained so distressed they decided to order a joint of pork from the butcher instead.
‘Silly baby!’ Jack said, but he said it fondly these days. ‘I’d eat the chooks any time.’
Janie stuck her tongue out at him.
A few minutes later their heads were together over a book which Norah had brought with her. Jack was helping Janie with the long words. All their books had been read and reread.
‘Living here seems too good to be true,’ she said to Andrew one night. ‘And they say we’ll be getting our houses soon.’
He looked at her in surprise. ‘Where did you hear that?’
‘At the store.’
‘Gil hasn’t said anything. It can’t be true, surely?’
‘Well, I heard it from a woman in another group who’s already got her house. She says it’s lovely to have four rooms again. And the men building it told her they would be starting on Special Group One soon. Why would they say that if it wasn’t true?’
A few days later Gil confirmed that their houses would indeed be started within a couple of weeks and everyone went round smiling at the thought of having a proper home at last.
Gil had a private word with Andrew that same night. ‘I, um, I’m going up to Fremantle to visit my cousin. I’ve got someone to keep an eye on my place and milk my cows. It’s just for a few days, before they start building the new houses. I haven’t had a break since I got here, and I’ve still got some things stored in my cousin’s shed. I’ll probably bring them back with me, or sell them up there.’
‘Hope you have a good time.’
‘Mmm. We’ll do a bit of back burning near your farm after I return,’ Gil added, looking round with a frown. ‘I don’t like to see so much dry grass and leaf litter. But don’t start that without me there. You have to be very careful not to let the fire get away from you.’
When Andrew later told Norah about Gil, she beamed at him.
‘It’s Irene he’s going to see, really.’
He looked at her in puzzlement.
‘Don’t you men ever tell one another personal things? He’s been writing to Irene regularly and she to him. She told me about it ages ago in one of her letters. And she was due to have the baby last week. I’ve been waiting to hear how that went, she said she’d drop me a line. But there hasn’t been any word. Perhaps the baby’s late. That’ll be why he’s going up to see her, to find out if she’s all right.’
‘But she turned him down and he hasn’t said a word about it and . . .’ A smile slowly creased Andrew’s face. ‘The sly devil. He’s been courting her.’
‘Don’t say anything. If she turns him down again, he’ll not want people knowing. But I hope she won’t. It’s clear from her letters that she’s not happy living in a town. I miss her. She was a good friend.’
Norah fanned her face with a bit of newspaper folded like a fan. ‘It’s been so hot today. I can’t believe I was ever cold. Remember the mud and rain in winter?’
‘Only too clearly. But it’s hard working in the heat, too. Gil insists we all drink a lot of water. As if we need telling! I sweat so much, I’m always thirsty and even lukewarm water from my bottle tastes good.’
She went to bed and her last thought was a hope that Irene and Gil would get together. She liked them both so much.
The day Gil left for Perth was a scorcher, hotter than anything they’d had before. He warned them all to be particularly careful with fires, not to let sparks fly, if they could help it, and to be sure to wear their hats to keep the sun off.
Then, feeling he’d done his duty, he got on the train, heaved a sigh of relief and felt himself start to relax. He didn’t know if he was doing the right thing, but he had a feeling it was time to go and see Irene. He’d got to know her better through her weekly letters, and that had only made him love her more. She was always cheerful, never said a word against anyone.
He hoped she was feeling more positive towards him, because he didn’t know what he’d do if she turned h
im down again. But surely she’d not have continued writing if there wasn’t hope?
Fremantle seemed full of people and noise. He’d grown used to quietness, rustling trees and space, felt uncomfortable here. He walked slowly through the streets, with his old kitbag slung over his shoulder.
Whether things went well with Irene or not, he intended to make a proper home for himself in Northcliffe. His humpy was as well fitted up as it could be now, because he’d been able to work on his own farm as the groupies grew more independent. It was fit for a wife.
When he got to the end of his cousin’s street, he stopped and drew a deep breath, then squared his shoulders and strode towards his fate.
Three days after Gil left, Andrew got up early because he smelled smoke. You couldn’t be too careful with the woods dry as tinder and another ‘century’ expected, a day over a hundred degrees Fahrenheit. He stood outside, sniffing, but the smoke was only faint and he could see no sign that it was nearby, so he got on with his morning chores, joined by Norah and Jack as they milked the seven cows.
You couldn’t make a living from so few cows and he intended to get more, but not till after his family had a proper home again and after the rest of the lower part of the block was cleared.
After a hasty breakfast he set off for the place he’d be working today, leaving the children at home, because he didn’t like having youngsters around when they were felling the bigger trees. He’d never forgotten the branch which had knocked him senseless and wasn’t risking his lads or little Janie.
Norah had planned a washday and got the children to help her fetch water from the well Andrew had dug near the site they’d chosen for the proper house they’d have one day. She stopped to gaze round in pleasure. They’d chosen the site with care and she loved the view down the slope towards the road, not to mention the nearness to the stream which would make it easy to water the garden.
As she worked the smell of smoke grew stronger and in the end she decided to go and check where it was coming from. From time to time, small bush fires were ignited in the forest, by lightning or who knew what chance. Usually they burned out quite quickly, but it never hurt to keep watch.
The sky seemed overcast, which surprised her. When she looked up, there were no clouds to be seen but the blue seemed darker somehow. As she went round to the other side of the humpy, she saw smoke billowing up into the sky. That was causing the dull light. A trickle of unease ran down her spine, because the wind was blowing in their direction. But the smoke was still a long way from their block and other bush fires had burned themselves out.
She went back to her washing.
A short time later Jack came up to her. ‘Mum, I think that bush fire’s coming this way. Shall I go and have a look?’
She dried her hands on her pinafore. ‘I’ll come with you to check it again. The day seems to have got darker.’
When they walked round to the other side of the humpy, they saw a pall of dark smoke hovering above the forest, much closer than before. The wind was rising and even as they watched, the smoke billowed up in great black clouds.
Her heart began to beat more rapidly. She should have kept checking, but she hadn’t realised it was possible for a big fire to spread so quickly.
‘Shall I fetch Dad?’
‘No. I don’t want you getting trapped in the open. We’ve been warned about that. But just in case the fire carries on this way, we’ll bring the animals closer to the house.’ She ran back round to the front of the humpy. ‘Janie! Ned! Help your brother bring the animals into our garden. We don’t want them frightened by the fire.’
She blessed Andrew’s care in fencing off their own garden from the stock. Now, his sturdy fence would be used for the opposite purpose, to keep the animals safe.
The cows milled about, seeming upset equally by the smoke and by the presence of the other creatures. One of the pigs ran into the house and Ned rushed to chase it out. The chooks fluttered here and there, finally settling on one of the rough benches near the house.
‘Shut the house door!’ she called. ‘Then start drawing water. We’ll fill everything we can to dampen down the ground round the house.’ She was very worried now, but tried not to let it show.
The children seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation without being told. They worked hard, Jack drawing water from the well in the big bucket, Ned and Janie going further afield and bringing water up from the stream in smaller buckets, tipping them into her washtubs and empty kerosene cans, even into her mixing bowl.
It grew darker and darker and the smoke made it difficult to breathe. She found four tea towels, soaked them in water and instructed the children to tie them over their mouths and noses.
‘I still think we should run away down the road,’ Ned said, stopping to look at the fire.
Jack gave him a shove. ‘Don’t be stupid! Remember what Gil and Pete told us. Fire can move faster than people, so you stay where you are and try to make yourself safe.’
‘Don’t quarrel, boys.’ Norah spoke as calmly as she could. ‘And listen. If the fire sweeps over the house, we’ll have to leave the animals and go down to the stream. Thank heaven Andrew dug out a pool. We could go and lie in that. Now, keep on bringing me water. I’m going to soak everything I can, even the ground.’
The four of them toiled hard, dampening down the area closest to the house. The outbuildings would have to take their chances, Norah decided.
The cows were moving to and fro, eyes rolling in fear. One suddenly ran towards the fence, mooing loudly. Jack rushed to head her off before she could trample her way through it. From then on, they had to keep an eye on the animals as well as continue fetching water.
It was getting harder and harder to breathe and the noise of the fire was so loud they had to shout to make themselves understood.
‘It’s getting close to the fodder store,’ Jack said. ‘Oh, no! Look.’
The shed erupted into flame.
Nora stopped briefly, saddened to see flames destroy Andrew’s hard work, then filled her bucket again. ‘It’s the house that matters. We have to save the house if we possibly can.’
Every time she looked the fire was closer, but slowed down in its approach to the house by the cleared land. Trees seemed to catch fire spontaneously with a great whooshing roar, even before the fire reached them. Burning twigs and leaves whirled in the air, landing ahead of the main fire, setting smaller fires here and there.
One burning brand landed on the cow shed and even as she watched, it too burst into flame.
‘It’s the other side of the house as well now!’ Jack yelled.
She swung round to see a long finger of fire burning across the ground at the far side of the house. ‘Dampen everything that side again,’ she yelled, and set off running, trying not to slop too much of the water on her skirt.
The four of them continued to toil. Norah poured water over them all, sick with worry for the three children’s safety. She counted them under her breath every time she turned back from a new task, one, two, three.
By now all their faces were black with smoke, the whites of their eyes seeming unnaturally bright against the dirty skin. The heat seemed to beat around them. ‘Wet yourselves again,’ she called hoarsely because their clothing was drying quickly in the heat. She watched as they poured buckets of water over one another, Jack supervising the others. Then he came and poured one over her, something she’d forgotten to do.
She paused as she rewet the material covering her mouth and nose to consider their position.
Should they run down to the stream and lie in the water, or should they stay and fight on to preserve the house? How did you know when to give up?
All she could think of was getting more water, keeping things damp if possible, keeping themselves and the stock wet, surviving any way they could. She’d try to save their possessions, but it was their lives that really mattered.
And still the fire grew higher around the little house, roaring
like an evil monster, while an unnatural darkness covered the land, the black smoke shot through with vivid flashes of flame as leaves filled with eucalyptus oil flared up.
As they worked, Andrew and the others kept smelling smoke, seeing a distant plume of it. But the bush fire seemed a long way away and they’d seen other bush fires come and go.
But this one didn’t go. Indeed, as the wind rose, it grew bigger so suddenly, it took them all by surprise when they realised how quickly it had moved in their direction.
Pete came over to them. ‘I think we’d best get off home and check that everyone’s all right. If the fire keeps going in that direction it’ll probably bypass us, but you can never be sure with bush fires. They can swing round and they move as fast as a train.’
The men all gathered their tools and set off for the camp ground. But the fire seemed to be outpacing them.
‘It’s turned a bit, even in this short time. It’s going to hit the furthest farms,’ Pete said. ‘Those with families there give the others your tools and get off home.’
They did that, running along the track. But the monstrous cloud of black smoke with the line of living flames at its base, reared up in front of them, seeming terrifyingly close beyond the camp ground.
They found their way barred suddenly by a wing of fire that had outflanked the rest and was roaring along the side of the track. It was clear that Andrew’s farm was now encircled.
One of the men grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt. ‘You can’t run into that. You’d be dead before you’d gone a hundred yards. We’d better move back. It’s going sideways at the moment, but you never know when the wind will change direction.’
‘I can’t leave Norah and the children on their own.’
‘You’ve no choice, mate. You can’t get to them,’ another man said. ‘By heck, I never thought a fire could move so quickly. Did you ever see anything like it?’
But they had to grab Andrew and drag him back before it would sink in that he couldn’t get through to his family.
23
In Fremantle Gil knocked on his cousin Nelly’s door, relieved when it was she who opened it, not Irene. ‘I had to come up to Freo to get the rest of my things—’ he began, but was cut off short as she hugged him, laughing and crying at the same time.