A Penny in Time

by Anna Bartlett

  ‘All this fuss over the English queen,’ Vasilis said. ‘I wonder what makes her so special?’

  ‘She’s the Queen,’ Aleksandar said. ‘And did you know that her husband was a Greek prince before he married her?’

  Vasilis shrugged. ‘So? English, Greek – they’re still just people.’

  Aleksandar didn’t think Vasilis would have been brave enough to say that in English. Everyone around them had come here specially just to see the Queen and her husband, the new Duke of Edinburgh. Aleksandar could hardly wait to see the Queen in real life – he’d learnt so much about her at school, and for months now the newspapers had been full of stories and photos of her.

  ‘Flags from one shilling. Paper, cloth or silk. Get your flags here,’ came a voice from behind Aleksandar.

  He turned and saw a thin man in a shabby suit and tie, with his arms full of brightly coloured flags.

  ‘Flags from one shilling. Get your flags here.’

  Aleksandar looked up and down the street at the people in the crowd. Nearly all of them were holding blue, white and red flags, or had streamers or confetti ready to throw. Aleksandar frowned. He hadn’t even thought of bringing a flag. Now he’d have nothing to wave at the Queen.

  He felt in his pockets for loose change and pulled out a handful of coins his father had given him the day before for helping in the shop. He sorted through them, adding them up in his head.

  ‘Eleven pence,’ he said. ‘Vasilis, can I borrow a penny?’

  ‘What for?’ asked Vasilis.

  ‘To buy a flag.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘To wave at the Queen, of course,’ said Aleksandar. ‘But I need one penny more.’

  ‘She won’t even see it,’ said Vasilis. ‘She won’t even see you. You probably won’t even see her.’

  ‘Please, Vasilis,’ Aleksandar said. ‘I’ll pay you back.’

  Vasilis shook his head. ‘It’s a waste of money. No-one will see it and you’ll only throw it away afterwards.’

  ‘I’ll pay you back!’

  ‘No.’

  Aleksandar frowned at his brother and called him a name he’d heard the boys use in the playground, and Vasilis gave him a shove. He stumbled backwards a few steps before catching his balance, then hunched his shoulders and began to stamp away down the street.

  It wasn’t fair, Aleksandar thought as he stomped. Vasilis didn’t understand. All Aleksandar wanted was to do the right thing – to be like everyone else. He was tired of always getting it wrong, of being different from the other kids. When his family had first come here, a few years after the war ended, everything had seemed so strange: there was so much space, the seasons were back to front and everyone spoke another language. But then when he’d started school the next year Aleksandar found out that he was the one who was strange: he talked with an accent, he couldn’t swim and he didn’t know how to play cricket.

  And so to learn to be Australian, Aleksandar had watched his classmates and copied the way they spoke and acted. He still ate Greek food and spoke Greek at home, but at school he worked out how to fit in. So when his friends started talking about the famous “tennis twins”, he learnt enough to talk about them too. And when his friends wanted to go and see the Queen, he decided that he would go too. After all, as his father had said, they were New Australians now; this was their home.

  As he scuffed along the footpath behind the crowd Aleksandar sifted through his coins again, in case he’d added up wrong and they really did come to a shilling. But no, he was still one penny short. He kicked a pebble along the concrete. He wanted to be able to wave at the Queen. He wanted to be able to talk about it at school. But Vasilis had to be aggravating just for the sake of it, and spoil all his plans. Just because he didn’t care about the Queen. Just because he always had to be right. Just because he thought being fifteen made him grown up.

  Music still played through the loudspeakers and people chatted together in growing excitement as the time slowly crept by. Aleksandar knew the royal car wouldn’t arrive for at least another fifteen minutes, but he spent his time wandering down the street checking the footpath for dropped coins. He passed family groups, women holding babies, and people balanced on stools, packing cases or old oil drums. As he neared Little Collins Street, and the wooden barriers that had been set up there by police, Aleksandar noticed a boy he knew from school perched on top of a stepladder with his little sister.

  ‘Terry,’ he called out, making his way to the base of the ladder. ‘Hello.’

  Terry peered down at him. ‘Oh, hello Aleks.’

  ‘Who is it, Terry?’ the boy’s sister asked.

  ‘It’s Aleks Christopoulos from school,’ he said. ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘Not very long,’ said Aleksandar. He noticed the red and blue flag in Terry’s hand and had a sudden thought. ‘Do you have a spare penny I can borrow?’ he asked. ‘I want to buy a flag.’

  Terry hesitated for a moment then fumbled to pull a penny from his pocket. He dropped it down to Aleksandar. ‘Don’t forget to pay me back.’

  ‘I won’t,’ said Aleksandar. ‘Thank you.’

  As he turned away the song playing over the loudspeakers cut off mid-bar. It was replaced by a polished male voice reporting that the Queen had left Parliament House and had started down Spring Street on her way towards them. Aleksandar hurried back up the street, passing tall buildings on one side and crowds of people on the other, to find the thin man with the flags.

  Now that the Queen’s progress was being reported over the speakers the sound of conversation had dropped. Ahead of him Aleksandar heard a voice call, ‘Get your flags here,’ and he darted along the footpath behind the rows of people, straining to catch sight of the flag-selling man. He knew the Queen’s car would be driving very slowly to give the people time to see her, but he wanted to buy his flag and try to find a good position before the car turned into the street.

  At last he spotted the back of the flag-seller’s coat, and hurried along the footpath to where the man was chatting to two young ladies balancing on a chair. He dug in his pockets for his coins and waited for the man to finish talking.

  ‘I would like a flag please,’ he said at last, and counted his pocket money into the man’s hand. Last of all he added the copper penny Terry Brooks had lent him. He smiled. One shilling exactly.

  ‘A shilling, eh?’ the man said. ‘So it’s a paper flag for you then. Now let’s see…’ He sorted through the stack of flags he was holding. ‘There’s Union Jacks, and Australian flags in red or in blue. Take your pick.’

  ‘One of those, please,’ Aleksandar said, pointing to a blue-backgrounded Australian flag.

  ‘A blue one, eh?’ the flag-seller said, nodding slowly. ‘That’s called an ensign, you know. A blue ensign. I’ll bet that’s something you didn’t know.’

  Aleksandar shook his head. He wished the man would hurry up and give him his flag.

  ‘The advance guard is turning into Bourke Street as I speak,’ the polished voice announced over the speakers, and Aleksandar jiggled from foot to foot.

  ‘Alrighty then, a blue ensign it is,’ said the flag-selling man, wiping his nose on his sleeve. ‘Though I must say I like the red ones myself. But a blue one’s what you’ve chosen, so a blue one’s what you’ll get.’

  He picked a flag from his stack and held it out to Aleksandar, who took it as quickly as he could without snatching, then turned and ducked back down the footpath towards the Town Hall. He couldn’t see the street at all through the masses of people lining it, but as soon as he found an opening he squeezed between two men on stepladders and began to worm his way towards the front.

  Now Aleksandar found himself within the packed crowd, with people all around him. He slipped past a young couple balancing on a fruit box, and under the arm of a man as he held up a periscope. He could feel the excitement of the crowd, with everyone around him standing on tiptoe and gripping flags or cameras. If only he could reach the front b
efore the Queen passed.

  ‘Look, horses! It’s the advance guard,’ a woman called, and there was a loud murmuring as people craned their necks and jostled to try to catch a glimpse of the mounted guards, with their smart uniforms and bright white helmets, whose task it was to ride along in front of the Queen’s car.

  Aleksandar inched forward, squeezing his way past legs and stomachs. Some people shifted aside for him, some ignored him and some frowned and shook their heads. Suddenly from up the street there came a roaring sound, as though an aeroplane had started its engines nearby: the Queen had arrived!

  All around Aleksandar people were shouting, cheering and waving flags. Confetti, torn-up paper and balloons floated down in the breeze from the windows of nearby buildings. Aleksandar could see nothing beyond the people packed around him, and the noise was so loud he could hardly hear his own cheering over everyone else’s. He tried to wriggle forward in the hope of catching sight of the Queen before her car went past, but when a lull came in the cheering he knew he was too late, and she’d already reached the Town Hall.

  From further down the street now came the loud, brassy sounds of the Royal Regiment band playing “God Save the Queen”. Aleksandar slipped through a gap between two middle-aged women, gripping his flag tightly. It seemed impossible now that he would even see the Queen, but that wasn’t going to stop him trying.

  After the last note of the anthem had died away, odd snatches of words came over the speakers as the Lord Mayor gave a short speech of welcome. And then suddenly there was a loud cheer again, and the Queen’s voice came clearly over the speakers.

  ‘My Lord Mayor, I am most grateful for the wonderful welcome which your city has extended to me and to my husband. Your assurances of loyalty and devotion and also your good wishes for our children have deeply touched us,’ she said as Aleksandar inched his way forward.

  ‘Hey, watch out,’ a thick-set man muttered as Aleksandar tried to squeeze round him.

  ‘It’s a kid,’ the man next to him said. ‘Let him through, mate.’

  The man shook his head but shifted aside, and Aleksandar slipped past him. Now there was only a handful of people between Aleksandar and the front of the crowd, and he could make out the wooden barrier set up to keep them back, and the uniformed soldiers spaced out in front of it, standing to attention with their slouch hats and rifles.

  ‘My father and mother have often spoken to me about your lovely city, and we are looking forward to a very happy time while we are here,’ the Queen finished, and there was another tremendous cheer.

  After squeezing around a young woman holding a toddler, Aleksandar at last reached the front of the crowd. He leant over the wooden barrier and craned his neck to peer down the street, but couldn’t see anything except guards and soldiers and a line of shiny black cars.

  There was a lull in the cheering and then it began again, louder than ever, and Aleksandar found himself being pushed against the wooden barrier as people at the back of the crowd began to surge forward. His chest started to hurt where it was pressed against the wood and a few screams came from people nearby. He gave a yell of fright and then the barrier fell into the street with a clatter and Aleksandar tumbled after it.

  He scrambled to his feet and found himself being swept down the street by the crowd, as men and women poured through the gap in the barricades and swarmed towards the Town Hall, where the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh were about to climb into their waiting car. Around Aleksandar everything was chaos and noise, with soldiers and policemen leaving their posts and trying to hold back the crowd. Cheering and shouting still rang through the air as Aleksandar was carried down the street in the middle of a group of noisy teenagers.

  Colours and movement flashed around him and then straight ahead Aleksandar saw a line of naval officers, white hats contrasting starkly with their dark uniforms, spreading out across the road in the shape of a V, their bayonets crossed. The people surged into the line of guards but the line held firm, and now Aleksandar was being crushed at the front of the crowd between two teenagers and a naval officer.

  His flag fell from his hand and he dropped to his knees to try to find it. Feet were stamping near his fingers and knees were jostling near his head, but he spotted his small red and blue flag and snatched it up from under the feet of a young man in tight jeans. Then, as he was about to clamber back up, Aleksandar glanced through the legs of the sailor in front of him and saw the Queen herself, sitting in the back seat of a shiny black car that was moving slowly away down the street. He caught a glimpse of her fawn coat and black straw hat as she waved to the crowds on either side, and then he thrust his flag out through the sailor’s legs and waved it as hard as he could until the royal car disappeared down the street and onto the bridge.

  The line of guards was breaking up now as the crowd kept pushing against it, and Aleksandar was nearly trampled as the group of teenagers around him surged forward. He scrambled up and tried to fight his way out of the crush, but he was trapped on every side by more people. The noise and the heat were overwhelming, and he couldn’t seem to get enough air. And then a hand grabbed the back of his collar and Aleksandar jerked around in alarm.

  ‘Vasilis!’ he said.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ Vasilis shouted.

  He kept his grip on Aleksandar and pulled him through the wild crowd until they found themselves on an empty patch of footpath.

  ‘Wow,’ said Aleksandar. ‘Did you see her?’

  ‘Come on,’ said Vasilis, ‘we should get home before anyone starts to worry.’

  ‘But wasn’t it amazing?’ Aleksandar asked as he followed Vasilis down the street.

  ‘Hmph. It was all a lot of fuss about nothing.’

  Aleksandar looked down at his flag and a huge grin spread across his face. ‘But I saw her, Vasilis, I actually saw her!’

  ‘Who, the Queen? I told you before, she’s nothing special.’

  ‘Really?’ said Aleksandar. ‘Then why did you run down the street after her?’

  Vasilis shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to look bored. ‘That was only because there was nothing better to do.’

  Aleksandar just laughed and glanced down again at his crumpled paper flag. He slipped it carefully into his pocket. Just wait until tomorrow when his school friends started talking about the Queen, he thought. He’d certainly have his own stories to add!

  Yared rolled over to face his nanna. ‘I’m glad he got to see the Queen,’ he said, handing the penny back to her. ‘But he’s not exactly like me, Nanna, because I don’t speak Greek.’

  ‘I didn’t say he was exactly like you, did I?’ she asked.

  ‘No, but I didn’t say you said he was, I just said he wasn’t exactly like me.’

  ‘Ah,’ his nanna said. ‘And am I supposed to say that I didn’t say you said I said he was exactly like you, and so on?’

  Yared laughed. ‘No.’

  ‘Good,’ said his nanna, swinging her feet to the floor and beginning to stand up from the bed. ‘Because I think that would leave us both confused.’

  She said goodnight and went out, and Yared lay in bed imagining Aleksandar going to school the next day and telling his friends all about what had happened. No-one else would have a story as exciting as Aleksandar’s, Yared was sure.

  In Which Pennies Go Down the Drain

  When Yared’s nanna sat beside him on the bed the next night and handed him the penny, he took it without paying much attention. He stared down at it and ran his fingers around its bumpy face but he wasn’t thinking of the coin; he was thinking of his parents’ call that morning.

  ‘Nanna…’ he said.

  ‘Yes, Yared?’

  ‘If Mum and Dad stopped being married…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Would I live with Mum?’

  His nanna sighed. ‘Probably, yes.’

  Yared bit his lip. ‘Would I still see Dad and Max and Tamieka and you ever?’

  ‘Yes Yared, you definitely
would.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Good.’

  There was silence for a while and Yared lay listening to the cicadas in the tree outside his window. He heard a possum hiss and a few cars drive past, then he felt his nanna’s hand on his shoulder.

  ‘There’s always hope, you know,’ she said. ‘There’s always hope.’

  He looked up. ‘Why?’

  ‘Well… because your parents are still trying.’

  ‘Hard?’

  His nanna squeezed his shoulder. ‘I think so, Yared. But that’s something you should ask them.’

  ‘They’re not here.’

  ‘When you see them again.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  There was silence again until his nanna said, ‘Well now, would you still like a story tonight?’

  Yared looked up, surprised. ‘Yeah.’ Of course he would!

  ‘Well then: this story takes place in 1966. It’s about a girl called Robyn.’

  Robyn lifted a blue floral sofa cushion and peered into the dusty space beneath it, while Linda wriggled under a line of chairs nearby.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Linda’s brother Greg asked from the middle of the room, where he was reading a Phantom comic on the floor.

  ‘Hunting for old coins,’ said Robyn.

  ‘Like the Famous Five,’ said Linda. ‘It was Robyn’s idea but you can help if you’d like.’

  ‘Nah,’ Greg said. ‘Not worth it. You don’t even know if you’ll find anything.’

  Linda shrugged, crawled out from under the chairs and began searching behind the record player. Robyn just lifted the next cushion. She didn’t care if they only found a few coins; anything was more fun than spending the day at home packing, where all she could think about was moving. And she knew that whatever they did find they’d be able to trade in at the corner store for new decimal money. She even knew how much each coin would be worth: a sixpence was five cents and a shilling was ten. They’d learnt about it at school so they’d all be ready when decimal currency arrived.