War Clouds Gather

by Peter Watt

  ‘Donald, I do not expect you to understand my decision, but it has a lot to do with this land around us,’ Jessica said. ‘It has been the times that I have walked this ground and felt the spirit of old Wallarie calling to me that has led me to choose a life in the Church. I pray that one day I will be able to return and build a mission station here. I feel that as a nun I can devote my life to helping my people.’

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Donald swore softly. ‘You knew this all the time that I was writing to you – pouring out my feelings on paper?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure,’ Jessica replied gently. ‘I didn’t want to tell you until I was certain. I think I could have loved you, Donald, had I chosen a different path.’

  ‘What does your father think of your decision to enter a convent?’ Donald asked bitterly.

  ‘Father is not very enthusiastic about my decision,’ Jessica admitted. ‘He said that I should allow myself time to see more of the world before donning the veil.’

  ‘Sounds like a damned good idea to me,’ Donald said, staring at the haze shimmering over the endless sea of scrub beyond the fences of the homestead. ‘You’re so young, and you have plenty of time to decide. I know that my arguments are selfish because I would like you in my life. Why don’t you give yourself some time to consider your decision?’

  ‘Father has said the same thing,’ Jessica said. ‘If it is any consolation, then I will wait a year before making a final decision,’ she said and Donald’s face lit up.

  ‘And if you choose not to become a nun?’

  ‘Then you will be one of the first to know,’ Jessica laughed.

  As much as Donald had the desire to kiss Jessica he knew he must hold back. The best he could do was to keep working towards passing ownership of Glen View to Tom Duffy and his daughter. He remembered the nights in the scrub when the stars shone brightly and the curlews called in the dark. It was as if the voice of the old Aboriginal warrior was speaking to him of injustices that had to be rectified somehow. He knew that Wallarie was always out there in the vast spaces of the ancient and sacred territory of the Darambal people.

  *

  Sir George Macintosh sat in the garden of his house and stared at the blue waters of the harbour. The world was upside down and he felt power slipping from his hands. His son defied him at every turn and now his brother’s son had joined the board of directors. At least George found he had one thing in common with David Macintosh, and that was they both opposed the sale of Glen View. No member of the Duffy family would ever own Glen View while George was alive.

  ‘Father,’ Sarah’s voice called and George looked up. Oh, how beautiful his daughter was growing, and how strange it was that the girl he had long ignored might yet be the saviour of his dreams. Times were changing and even Sir George had to admit women were stirring for more independence. Could it be that she might rule the family as Lady Enid Macintosh had?

  ‘Yes, my dear,’ George answered. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Time for you to come inside and have dinner,’ she said. ‘The weather is changing for the worse.’

  Rolling over the harbour were billowing storm clouds and another thought entered George’s devious mind. They were like the clouds of a war he knew was coming – as did many others who had watched world events unfold across Asia and Europe. The Japanese, German and Italian fascists were in ascendency as they rolled their armies across the map. It was a time when young men foolishly volunteered to lay down their lives for their country, while men such as himself reaped the financial rewards of war.

  Sir George rose stiffly from his favourite stone bench where he had been surveying the ships at anchor that were part of the Macintosh line of island traders. As he walked back towards the house he had the fleeting thought that perhaps fortune might be good to him once again and both his son and nephew might die before he did.

  EPILOGUE

  My name is Wallarie, and although I am gone from the world of wind, fire, earth and water, I still live in the world of my ancestor spirits. I see Tom Duffy standing on the sacred hill of my people, looking out at the land of horizons that stretch to the end of the world. He is alone and deep in thought for the young woman who is his daughter, now one of those nuns working at a missionary station in a land north of where he stands called New Britain. Tom is sad because he promised to take back our lands so that the spirits of my people could once again hunt the brigalow scrubs. But the one who was born to give back the ancestor lands has defied us, and so the place they call Glen View still belongs to the whitefella family called Macintosh.

  Sometimes I soar across the plains as a great wedge-tailed eagle, and in those times I see into the lives of the children scattered across the earth, whose blood mingles with my own people. I see James Duffy in a land across the sea, stepping from his aeroplane wearing the wings of some mob called the United States Marine Corp. His grandfather is angry because James identifies with his father who is now an ancestor spirit with us.

  I see Donald and David Macintosh standing in a room of a house in Sydney. They are listening to that whitefella thing called a radio, while a bigfella boss is telling them they are at war with that bloke, Hitler.

  Fellow Australians, it is my melancholy duty to inform you officially, that in consequence of a persistence by Germany in her invasion of Poland, Great Britain has declared war upon her and that, as a result, Australia is also at war. No harder task can fall to the lot of a democratic leader than to make such an announcement.

  Donald and David are like brothers rather than cousins and they talk about signing up to fight. The young woman, Sarah, watches her brother with concern, and gazes at David with adoring eyes. She is very beautiful for a whitefella girl.

  In a land to the north of Glen View called Singapore, I see Matthew’s missus, holding a little boy in her arms as she watches one of her aeroplanes taking off. She is a smart missus and has many aeroplanes. Beside her is a cranky old bloke called Cyril, who comes from a place where the water goes white in winter. She is happy that her son is only a toddler, and too young to be a soldier in the war ahead in faraway place called Europe.

  Ah, but there is evil in the world. He is a whitefella called George Macintosh whose heart is dark with desires to rid himself of others: his son and nephew. By and by the madness come to him, but Sarah looks after him when that happens. She is almost one of the Macintosh bosses now.

  I see things in time, now that I have the old people’s spirit in me. I see terrible things in the years ahead. They are starting to forget the curse – all ’cept Sir George – and they will pay for that mistake. I could always see beyond the horizon, war clouds gathering, and next fire will fall.

  The ancestor spirits do not know ’bout baccy. I miss my baccy in this spirit world. But I will always be here, as this is the place of my people’s dreaming.

  Not the End

  AUTHOR NOTES

  The Spanish Civil War 1936–39 could easily be called the curtain raiser to World War Two. A democratically elected government was deposed by the military under General Franco, who reinstated the Spanish royal family and the power of the aristocrats and the Church. The government was socialist in philosophy and it was opposed by ultra-conservative Carlist and fascist Falange groups supported by the army. The idea of land distribution, and other acts designed to assist the poor, was a threat to the wealthy establishment. The country was split militarily and politically into a very bloody civil war.

  When called upon by the besieged elected government, Britain and France chose to remain neutral while the fascists of Spain were aided by the armed forces of fellow fascist countries Italy and Germany. However, the Spanish government was able to gain Russian and Mexican aid. Many people of the time could see the threat fascism posed to world peace and volunteered in what were known as the International Brigades to assist the elected government.

  The war had no quarter. Government forces were guilty of crimes against priests, nuns and innocent peasants suspected of being on Franco
’s side. In return, Franco’s forces executed peasants they considered loyal to the government and used aerial bombing against civilians in towns and cities. The fascist forces of Germany and Italy could see that the two major European powers – Britain and France – were avoiding any confrontation with them. So, when Franco’s fascists eventually won the war in 1939, the Second World War broke out the same year.

  A number of Australians joined the International Brigades to fight fascism. The 1930’s were a time that saw a terrible world-wide economic recession and many in the Western world were sympathetic to communism as a way out of the catastrophe believed to have been caused by capitalism.

  A forgotten part of history is the resistance movement in Germany prior to the war. There were German’s who opposed Hitler’s policies. Dachau concentration camp was set up to deal with these Germans. There were attempts against Hitler’s life before the war and one almost succeeded. Armed resistance became impossible when Hitler passed laws disarming private citizens of the possession of firearms. Stalin did the same in Russia.

  All the rest is story telling.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  The production of this book is in many ways a team effort. At the publishing level I would like to recognise my publisher Cate Paterson of Pan Macmillan Australia, my editor Vanessa Pellatt, and the cover designer Deb Parry. My thanks go to Julia Stiles who has painstakingly stripped away the fat from the story. From the publicity department, thanks and congratulations to Tracey Cheetham. A thank you also to Roxarne Burns, who toils away counting the books sold so that I can get paid each year and keep writing the novels.

  A special thank you to my agent, Geoffrey Radford of Anthony Williams Agency.

  I would also like to thank Get Reading for my national tour in October 2012. That thanks is extended to Alison Crisp who coordinated the tour for me, with the opportunity to meet one or two of my readers, and hopefully recruit one or two for the future.

  There are other people in my life who have contributed in small and large ways to helping me produce the books. They are: John and June Riggall, Graham Mackie, Bruce and Laurie King, Jan Dean, Kevin Jones OAM and family, Kate Evans, Kristie Hildebrand, Dr Louis and Christine Trichard, Mick and Andrea Prowse, Tyrone McKee, John and Cheryle Carroll, John and Isabel Millington, Peter and Kaye Lowe, Bill and Tatiana Maroney, Nerida Marshall from STARS, and Robert Harper and family. In Queensland two old soldiers: Laurie Norgren and Larry Gilles.

  Within my own family: my brother, Tom Watt and family, my Aunt Joan Payne, cousins Tim Payne, Luke Payne and Virginia Wolfe and not to forget the Duffy side.

  A continuing thanks to Brett and Rod Hardy for their continuing work on the Frontier project and a special mention to a wonderful lady connected to the project in the USA, Ms Suzanne de Passe.

  My life has now come down to six months writing and six months fighting bushfires. To all members of the Gulmarrad Rural Fire Service, I extend my thanks for your wonderful camaraderie. That thanks is also extended to all members of the volunteer emergency services I have had the honour of working alongside of; from Coonabarabran to the Clarence Valley during the last fire season. They are the forgotten heroes of this country who put their lives on the line for no pay. My condolences to the friends and families of those who lost loved ones during the last fire season. Sadly, there will be more in the future – without a national memorial in Canberra to recognise their ultimate sacrifice. I hope that changes.

  I would also like to thank a few of my writer friends: Tony Park, Simon Higgins, Dave Sabben MG, Greg Barron, Karly Lane and Katherine Howell – and all my readers.

  Last but not least, all my love and thanks to Naomi.

  About Peter Watt

  Peter Watt has spent time as a soldier, articled clerk, prawn trawler deckhand, builder’s labourer, pipe layer, real estate salesman, private investigator, police sergeant and advisor to the Royal Papua New Guinea Constabulary. He speaks, reads and writes Vietnamese and Pidgin. He now lives at Maclean, on the Clarence River in northern New South Wales. He is a volunteer firefighter with the Rural Fire Service, and fishing and the vast open spaces of outback Queensland are his main interests in life.

  Peter Watt can be contacted at www.peterwatt.com

  Also by Peter Watt

  The Duffy/Macintosh Series

  Cry of the Curlew

  Shadow of the Osprey

  Flight of the Eagle

  To Chase the Storm

  To Touch the Clouds

  To Ride the Wind

  Beyond the Horizon

  The Papua Series

  Papua

  Eden

  The Pacific

  The Silent Frontier

  The Stone Dragon

  The Frozen Circle

  MORE BESTSELLING FICTION AVAILABLE FROM

  PAN MACMILLAN

  Peter Watt

  Cry of the Curlew

  I will tell you a story about two whitefella families who believed in the ancestor spirits. One family was called Macintosh and the other family was called Duffy . . .

  Squatter Donald Macintosh little realises what chain of events he is setting in motion when he orders the violent dispersal of the Nerambura tribe on his property, Glen View. Unwitting witnesses to the barbaric exercise are bullock teamsters Patrick Duffy and his son Tom.

  Meanwhile, in thriving Sydney Town, Michael Duffy and Fiona Macintosh are completely unaware of the cataclysmic events overtaking their fathers in the colony of Queensland. They have caught each other’s eye during an outing to Manly Village. A storm during the ferry trip home is but a small portent of what is to follow . . . From this day forward, the Duffys and the Macintoshes are inextricably linked. Their paths cross in love, death and revenge as both families fight to tame the wild frontier of Australia’s north country.

  Spanning the middle years of the nineteenth century, Cry of the Curlew is a groundbreaking novel of Australian history. Confronting, erotic, graphic, but above all, a compelling adventure, Peter Watt is an exceptional talent.

  Peter Watt

  Shadow of the Osprey

  On a Yankee clipper bound for Sydney Harbour the mysterious Michael O’Flynn is watched closely by a man working undercover for Her Majesty’s government. O’Flynn has a dangerous mission to undertake . . . and old scores to settle.

  Twelve years have passed since the murderous event which inextricably linked the destinies of two families, the Macintoshes and the Duffys. The curse which lingers after the violent 1862 dispersal of the Nerambura tribe has created passions which divide them in hate and join them in forbidden love.

  Shadow of the Osprey, the sequel to the best-selling Cry of the Curlew, is a riveting tale that reaches from the boardrooms and backstreets of Sydney to beyond the rugged Queensland frontier and the dangerous waters of the Coral Sea. Powerful and brilliantly told, Shadow of the Osprey confirms the exceptional talent of master storyteller Peter Watt.

  Peter Watt

  Flight of the Eagle

  No-one is left untouched by the dreadful curse which haunts two families, inextricably linking them together in love, death and revenge.

  Captain Patrick Duffy is a man whose loyalties are divided between the family of his father, Irish Catholic soldier of fortune Michael Duffy, and his adoring, scheming maternal grandmother, Lady Enid Macintosh. Visiting the village of his Irish forebears on a quest to uncover the secrets of the past, Patrick is bewitched by the mysterious Catherine Fitzgerald.

  On the rugged Queensland frontier Native Mounted Police trooper Peter Duffy is torn between his duty, the blood of his mother’s people – the Nerambura tribe – and a predestined deadly duel with Gordon James, the love of his sister Sarah.

  From the battlefields of the Sudan to colonial Sydney and the Queensland outback, a dreadful curse still inextricably links the lives of the Macintoshes and Duffys. In Flight of the Eagle, the stunning conclusion to the trilogy featuring the bestselling Cry of the Curlew and Shadow of the Osprey, master storyte
ller Peter Watt is at the height of his powers.

  Peter Watt

  To Chase the Storm

  When Major Patrick Duffy’s beautiful wife Catherine leaves him for another, returning to her native Ireland, Patrick’s broken heart propels him out of the Sydney Macintosh home and into yet another bloody war. However the battlefields of Africa hold more than nightmarish terrors and unspeakable conditions for Patrick – they bring him in contact with one he thought long dead and lost to him.

  Back in Australia, the mysterious Michael O’Flynn mentors Patrick’s youngest son, Alex, and at his grandmother’s request takes him on a journey to their Queensland property, Glen View. But will the terrible curse that has inextricably linked the Duffys and Macintoshes for generations ensure that no true happiness can ever come to them? So much seems to depend on Wallarie, the last warrior of the Nerambura tribe, whose mere name evokes a legend approaching myth.

  Through the dawn of a new century in a now federated nation, To Chase the Storm charts an explosive tale of love and loss, from South Africa to Palestine, from Townsville to the green hills of Ireland, and to the more sinister politics that lurk behind them. By public demand, master storyteller Peter Watt returns to this much-loved series following on from the bestselling Cry of the Curlew, Shadow of the Osprey and Flight of the Eagle.

  Peter Watt

  To Touch the Clouds

  They had all forgotten the curse . . . except one . . . until it touched them. I will tell you of those times when the whitefella touched the clouds and lightning came down on the earth for many years.

  In 1914, the storm clouds of war are gathering. Matthew Duffy and his cousin Alexander Macintosh are sent by Colonel Patrick Duffy to conduct reconnaissance on German-controlled New Guinea. At the same time, Alexander’s sister, Fenella, is making a name for herself in the burgeoning Australian film industry.