Wandering Girl

by Glenyse Ward

  So we made our way into the kitchen. He put the fruit on the sink for me. I was longing to have a good old yarn to him as he was the kind of person who made me feel differently from the rest of those around the farm. So I asked him if he would like a cup of tea? He said that he usually brought his flask of tea to work but today, for some reason or other, had forgotten it. He lived on his own.

  He had an old shack on the other side of town and sometimes, he explained, he forgot things, but seeing I offered he’d love one. So I asked him to sit down on one of the chairs in the kitchen. He sat down while I got things ready. I felt his gaze on me as I moved around.

  Suddenly, he said, “Lassie, you look so young, how old are you?” “I am sixteen,” I said. “Why child, where are your Mum and Dad?” I told him, “I have a Mum, but I don’t know where she is. I’ll find her one day, I suppose. My Dad I have never seen. He died when I was in the home.” I explained to him how we were taken away from our natural parents as babies and that we grew up in the care of Catholic nuns, priests and brothers, and when we got to the age of sixteen, they sent us out to places like this to work for people.

  As I put the pot of tea on the table, I thought I’d better use my tin mug in front of this dear old gentleman. When on my own I used a cup and saucer, nobody knew, it was my secret! Even though he was a nice old gentleman, I thought I’d do the right thing. I put a cup and saucer in front of him and put my old tin mug on the table. He thanked me and I went to the fridge, cut two pieces of cake and put them on the table.

  When one of the pussy-cats meowed and brushed up against me, I picked him up and gave him a cuddle, as this was the poor cat I had chucked up against the wall. Glad to know that it was well and not hurt, I bent down to place the cat on the floor.

  The old man said, “Hey lassie, the pussy sure knows when it’s cup of tea time.” He reached out to grab my tin mug, and said, “Here, pass over the milk and I’ll fill up his tin mug.”

  I hesitated, as I fumbled to pick up the milk. He had a look of concern on his face as he asked me what was wrong? I felt my face go all sorts of colours, as I explained to him that the tin mug was the cup which I had to drink from, as the boss of the house said I was not to use her stuff. He flung his old grey head back and gave out one big laugh.

  I stood there trembling, feeling real stupid, when all of a sudden his wrinkled face turned serious and he said, “Lassie, you are not playing any jokes on me?”

  I was very near to tears as I plucked up courage and told him that the boss gave me orders to drink out of a tin mug and eat off an old tin plate. He realised then I was serious and asked me what were her reasons? I told him that she said I am her slave!

  With a look of mystification about his old face, he spoke in a very gentle voice and told me to go and get a cup and saucer and sit down and have a cup of tea with him. He explained to me that he would be my friend if I needed one. He couldn’t understand why people should be treated the way they were. It was very unfair and unjust. We chatted on a bit more and when I told him that I had to go to the old shed and get the six boxes of bottles, he offered to come and help me.

  On our way down he told me whenever the boss was away and I had a job I couldn’t handle, I was to come down to the orchard and look for him. If I couldn’t see him, I was to come over and look in his car where he would probably be having a smoko. He parked his old green ute right down near the river end. I could spot it through her bedroom window as that was the highest part of the house.

  As we got down to the shed, I felt very happy that I had found a friend and also glad that it wasn’t me in that old shed getting the bottles. He sang out to tell me the boxes were all rotten so what he would do was take the jars out separately and put them on the lawn. What I could do was go and turn the hose on and wash all the jars out on the lawn as they were very dirty and dusty. When all the bottles were clean, he helped me carry them into the kitchen and we stacked them on the empty shelves.

  Everything was done and I warmly thanked him for all his help. As I handed him his buckets he told me to call him Bill, and not to forget - if ever I needed him, I knew what to do. He told me to keep smiling and not to worry about anything, then made his way back to the orchard.

  I had a real light sensation come over me as I went back into the kitchen. I looked at the pears and apples on the sink, then at the clock. It was five minutes past four. “Gee,” I thought, “how the time went quick today.”

  Another two hours and the boss would be back. I still had a couple of jobs to do. First, peel all the fruit and cut it up, then go out and water all the gardens, the front and back, then go and collect the eggs, then back into the house to get things ready for their tea.

  I thought while I was peeling the fruit, that I’d go and turn on the sprinklers at the back and the front. In that way the gardens and lawn could be getting a good watering while I got on with my other jobs. It would save some time.

  I didn’t know why she couldn’t let me use those sprinklers when she was there. It would have made watering much easier for me. So having done that, I went back into the kitchen to peel and cut the fruit, only stopping to go out and change the sprinklers.

  I had completed all my jobs, and still had half an hour up my sleeve, so I went to check the gardens. I made sure every part had plenty of water and put the sprinklers away, so there would be no questions asked on their arrival back, which I hated. The feelings of remorse came sinking back inside me.

  SHOOSH, SHOOSH, GIRL!

  As I was setting the table for supper, I looked out the window and saw the car coming up the driveway.

  I was pottering around putting the finishing touches to the table and tea trolley, when I heard the kitchen door open. She came in to me and said, “Ah, there you are, could you go out to the car and bring the shopping in? You can take my personal shopping and put it on the bed. Bring the groceries in first and put them away. In the meantime, I’ll cook the chops as my sons will be home for tea and I know how they like them. You can put the vegies on. We will have potatoes, spinach and carrots. When I’ve cooked the chops, I’ll leave you to it.”

  “And when the vegies are cooked, I want you to mash the potatoes, then put the vegies in separate bowls. Come and let me know when all is ready. Then we will have our tea, as by that time the boys should be back from town. You can open up a can of baked beans for your tea.”

  So I left her cooking her chops and I went to attend to my job of putting her shopping away. I took her new personal things and chucked them on her bed, glad of the fact that Mr Bigelow wasn’t in the room as I dreaded having to face him. I didn’t like the way he used to just stare at me. I used to feel so embarrassed!

  I went back out to the car to get the groceries. I collected the three bags she had and went into the kitchen with them. I put them on the table and started to sort the shopping out, separating all the cleaning things, Ajax, Pine-o-cleen, Silvo, Brasso, etc, to make it easier for me. Then when everything was sorted, I just grabbed whatever belonged to where and put everything away without any mix up. By this time she was out in the lounge reading the papers, so I got stuck into putting the vegies on.

  By the time the tea was cooked, it was seven thirty, so I went in to tell her everything was ready to be served up. As usual I got told off for barging in and not knocking. Her sons were there with her.

  I apologized. She told me to put everything on the trolley, wheel it into the dining room and leave it. “Put the sweets on too. We will have peaches and cream. Don’t worry about making tea. We’ll have a late cup of tea when you have gone to bed. Mr Bigelow is complaining that you make the tea too strong, which reminds me. I’ll have to give you a lesson in making tea one of these days.”

  Then she told me, “Go and bring everything in, leave it, then shut the door, as the family does not want any interruptions.”

  Having done that, I was feeling very hurt as I went to open up my can of baked beans. While I was waiting for them to warm up, I go
t my tin plate out and a fork, then sat down at the table. I must have been lost in thought, when I saw steam coming out of the saucepan. I jumped up and poured the beans out on my plate, feeling rather worn out. I didn’t feel like eating. I sort of just sat there picking away at my meal.

  I didn’t mind if she told me off when no-one was around, but she had a habit of always reprimanding me when all the rest of the family was there. I used to get so ashamed, as I could feel all their eyes on me. I was beginning to really detest it!

  One of these days. I’d pluck up courage and tell her how I felt - not that it would make any difference but at least I would have my say.

  In the midst of my reflections I heard the bell ringing, so I got up and made my way into the dining room, feeling rather gloomy as no doubt they’d all be staring at me and she’d be there like a cat ready to pounce on her prey.

  I carried on collecting dishes and stacking them on the trolley, then she banged on the table with her serviette ring. “Shoosh, shoosh, girl!” I looked at her. ‘You are making far too much noise, go a bit steady.”

  She stood up, put the remaining dishes on the trolley and in a rude and abrupt manner ushered me out of the room, then slammed the door. “Ouch” - in that mad dash out of the dining room door, one of the wheels of the trolley had gone over my foot

  I sat down on my chair in the kitchen to grab at my foot and rub it a bit to relieve the pain that surged through it. All of a sudden, while I was sitting on the chair nursing my foot, the door opened up. She rushed out to put a plate down on the table. The look on her face when she saw me sitting there - I thought she was going to have a heart attack.

  “How dare you sit down when you have work to do! You put that horrible old thong on your foot and get up and start the dishes. I won’t tolerate this behaviour especially coming from my slave. Now do you understand that?”

  I burst out crying and leapt up, nearly wetting myself. Mrs Bigelow just went on shouting at me, “You go out to your sink and wash your face, and stop that stupid nonsense! I don’t want all that muck falling into the washing up water. Now go on, get a move on!”

  I couldn’t wait to get out of the kitchen quick enough. While I freshened up my face at my own wash-house sink I started to tremble. Gosh, what would her reaction be if she found out I killed a turkey? The way she felt about me I was more determined that she wasn’t going to find out.

  So I slowly made my way back into the kitchen. She was waiting there for me, writing something down on a piece of paper. She looked at me and told me that she would be going back into town the next day, which was Wednesday, and wanted more fruit bottled.

  I was to peel as much fruit as possible, cut it all up and, with what I had already prepared, put the lot into jars. I was to top up the fruit-filled jars with sugar-and-water, then stand them along the cupboard. “Tomorrow night when I come home. I’ll start to cook them in the preserver.” Then it came. “Also, I was meaning to ask you, did you manage to get the turkeys and their eggs? I want to take a dozen tomorrow when I go into town.”

  I nearly died on the spot as she had caught me unaware. I couldn’t stop myself from stuttering, trying to explain I didn’t find any turkeys.

  She told me to stand up straight, stop slouching and to face her when she was talking to me.

  I hoped I didn’t show any signs of guilt. I felt my face quivering. When it came to answering questions face on, I wasn’t much good at hiding my guilt, but I must have done alright this time. Mrs Bigelow seemed to be convinced that I had searched everywhere but to no avail: I couldn’t find them.

  She told me not to worry for the time being. Another job she wanted me to do was go out to the wood shed and chop the wood again. She wanted me to chop as much as I could, as the wood boxes were empty, and of an evening when the nights were cold it was not good for Mr Bigelow to be out collecting wood. He might catch a cold and she couldn’t have him sick. Being Lord Mayor, he had a lot of functions to attend, all very important ones which he could not miss.

  “Now, do you understand your instructions?” I said, “Yes, Mrs Bigelow.”

  Before she turned to go, she told me to be up half an hour earlier than my usual time, which was five o’clock. She wanted my jobs to be finished early in the morning as she must have her breakfast served at seven o’clock. She and her husband had to be in town early, and with that she told me to hurry up and finish my work, because I had made enough noise for the evening.

  Then she added, “By the way, don’t worry about getting breakfast for the boys. They will be going out. If they want breakfast, they’ll let you know.”

  She closed the door behind her and I continued on with my work. It was about half-past nine when I shut the kitchen door and went out to my bedroom, glad of the fact that I could at last have a good rest. I felt completely drained out. I struggled to put my nightie on. Oh, what an exhausting day it had been!

  RUNNING WHENEVER SHE NEEDED ME

  Just as I was about to be attacked by a mob of vicious turkeys, I awoke to the sound of high pitched ringing. Jolted out of my terrible nightmare, I reached out, grabbed the clock to turn the alarm off, then lit up the old burner. I pulled my towel off the edge of my bed, to wipe the sweat off my face. My heart was still beating fast and my legs felt as if they had been running all night!

  I lay back to let my nerves settle down and to come back to reality with myself. I lay there thinking about what sort of a day I was going to have. I felt real happy that they were going out again. It would give me an opportunity to go down and have a yam with old Bill. I’d get him to come up and have a cup of tea with me. I might even ask him to help me cut some wood, because the thought of all that chopping made me feel weak. I just wished I knew what time her sons were going out. As soon as they left. I’d head straight down to the orchard.

  I thought I’d better hurry up and get started on my jobs. Suddenly, I remembered that she wanted breakfast early. Now that I had shaken that horrible nightmare out of my system, I got myself dressed. Thinking, “It’s too cold for a shower,” I decided I’d have one later when everyone had left the farm.

  I could use her shower room. It was so much nicer and warmer, as her toilet and shower room were in her bedroom. I remembered her powder smelt lovely. I liked the lavender one. I’d put some of that on me after my shower.

  As soon as I was dressed I went to my own wash-house and freshened up my face and combed my hair. Back at my room, I just chucked my toiletries on the bed and slammed the door. Then I grabbed the old burner and broom, intending to start down from the orchard and work my way up to the front, then finish off my chores at the shoe rack. I had to polish their shoes and make sure they were spotless before they left for town.

  So I made my way down to the bottom end of the driveway and started sweeping up all the leaves and dust. The wind was blowing hard, and I began to get a bit frustrated. I was fighting a losing battle - the more leaves I swept together the more the wind would blow them all over the place.

  I thought, “I’ll just sweep from side to side. Too bad if the wind blows the leaves back again.” So I hurried up and made a quick job of it. I put the lantern and broom back where they belonged, then went to the shoe rack to start polishing the shoes.

  When I finally finished the shoes I didn’t feel like going all the way down to the paddock to pick her oranges. So I went into my room and got two out of my fruit bowl, which I had picked from the orchard a week before. They were a bit soft, but she wouldn’t know. At least, there’d be a lot of juice in them. In the kitchen, I took a glass from the cabinet and squeezed the week-old oranges.

  Um they were juicy too! I poured the rich juice into the glass and filled it up. I had a taste to see if the juice was sweet. It tasted alright to me, so I tidied my mess up, put a clean doyley over the glass, then set about getting breakfast.

  When I put the bacon and eggs on I didn’t forget myself. If she told me off I’d just say that I was making some for her sons too, playing d
umb to the fact that she had already explained to me about the boys - besides, I couldn’t help the way I was, just a shadow in this mansion. I went into the dining room to set the table up and make sure everything was laid out correctly, then went back into the kitchen. I glanced at the clock. It was about ten minutes to seven. I put the kettle on.

  She called out to me from the dining room that she and Mr Bigelow were ready for their breakfast, but as I was setting up the trolley, she came in to drink her orange juice. The perfume she had on her was very strong, a sickly sort of smell. I caught a good whiff of it as she passed me. Her rouge and makeup always fascinated me. She often looked like she was ready for the circus.

  I was just about to take the trolley in when she sort of tugged at the sleeve of my dress and told me that she’d wheel it in. She moved me out of the way abruptly and told me to bring in the bacon, eggs and toast when she rang the bell. “Don’t worry about making coffee. Just put the boiling water in a jug and bring it in with you when I am ready for the main breakfast.”

  She went into the dining room with the trolley and shut the door behind her, leaving me standing there empty-handed. I thought that I’d better have my cereal, so I got my old tin plate out, filled it up with weeties, poured milk and sugar over them, then began. She rang the bell.

  I dropped the spoon, quickly hopped up, got the plates of bacon and eggs, took them into the dining room, placed them on their individual places, then stood back to see if there was anything else she wanted before I went back into the kitchen.

  As I stood there I got a fit of the sniffles and took out my old rag, which I had tucked in my sleeve jumper, and blew into it in a most profound manner, making the most peculiar noise.