‘It is. She is,’ said Dad quietly. ‘But it doesn’t say she’s coming back, does it?’ He scanned my letter. ‘And it doesn’t in this one, either.’
I shook my head. ‘No, it doesn’t.’
‘Then what do you say to the idea of going over there instead? Think she’d tell us to get lost if we turned up on her doorstep?’
I stared at him, not sure if I’d heard right.
He laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Sal, I haven’t gone loopy. See, there’s something I have to tell you—something you didn’t give me any time to say in your rush to give me Lily’s note.’
He paused, and I shouted, ‘What is it, Dad? What is it? Tell me!’
‘All that business at the Melbourne Cup—that decided it once and for all. Phar Lap is definitely going to America. And I’ve been asked to come along. Not as a bodyguard—they’re hiring locals over there for that. But just to keep an eye out, on the quiet.’
I squealed, ‘Oh Dad! Oh, Dad!’
‘And I said I would think about it, but that I had to talk about it to my daughter first because of course I want her to come along too and I had to check she’d like that.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘Well, would you, Sal?’
I shrieked, and threw my arms around his neck. ‘Would I, Dad! Oh, would I! Oh, Dad, that’s so exciting! So wonderful!’
‘Strewth, poppet, don’t strangle me,’ he said, laughingly extracting himself. ‘So I take it that’s a yes?’
‘Yes, yes, yes!’ I shouted. ‘Dad, when do we go?’
‘Not for a while yet. Phar Lap’s going in a couple of weeks with Tommy Woodcock—they’re going to New Zealand first for six weeks though, and then taking the boat to California from there. Phar Lap has to get used to conditions there, so they’re going to board him at spelling farms, train him up and all that. He’s not racing till March. The Davises are going separately and meeting them in the States. Mr Telford isn’t going at all, and neither is Jimmy Pike, he hates sailing. Another jockey’s going to go instead. But I won’t be needed straight away—Mr Davis is close to his money and not keen on paying me to, as he put it, twiddle my thumbs for weeks and months. So we’re to meet them there in March, ten days or so before the race.’
‘Oh Dad! That’s ages and ages away!’
‘Wait a minute, I haven’t finished. We’ll still leave here in late January, have a bit of a break in New Zealand—show you where your old dad comes from, get you to meet your aunt—and then get a boat from Wellington across the Pacific.’ He paused. ‘It will dock in San Francisco.’
My eyes widened. ‘Where Miss O’Brien lives! Oh Dad, that’s amazing!’
‘Not so amazing really,’ he said briskly, ‘because that’s where the trans-Pacific ships dock—but, yes, I know what you mean, and it is a rather nice bonus.’
‘Can I write to her straight away and tell her we’re coming?’ I said excitedly.
He laughed. ‘I think we’ve got a bit of time to do that, Sal! Stop dancing around like that, you’re making me feel dizzy!’
I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight, my heart is racing like mad and my skin is all prickly with excitement and I can’t wait to tell Lizzie! Imagine what she’s going to say!
November 6
Dad said we should tell very few people about his new assignment. The idea is to keep it quiet, so we’re just going to tell most people we’re going to New Zealand to see Dad’s family. But he did say we would definitely tell the Walters and the Bellinis, because you can trust them to keep their mouths shut if you ask them to. And he said I could tell Billy too, because he’ll keep it under his hat.
Lizzie was so excited about my news, of course. She was so nice about it, not even jealous, or at least she didn’t seem to be, though she keeps saying how she wished she could go in my suitcase! I wish she could too!
November 12
Letter today from the Bellinis, they’re so excited about our good luck! Billy sent a note at the bottom of the letter, to say he wished he could come packed in our suitcase too! I’ve promised to send him letters when we’re there, as well as Lizzie. I’m going to be busy writing!
November 14
All the newspapers now have the story that Phar Lap is definitely going to race in America, and everyone has an opinion on it. Most people think it’s great but some don’t like it at all, they think Mr Davis is a money-grubber who will expose Phar Lap to great danger. They’re afraid Phar Lap might die on the way or his ship might be wrecked or he’ll fall ill or something will happen to him in the States once gangsters get wind of his winning streak. They say you can’t trust the Yanks when it comes to things like that (which Dad says is a bit rich, because it wasn’t Yanks who had a go at Phar Lap here, but true-blue Aussies!).
One lady even wrote a letter to the newspaper to say she’d had a dream that that Phar Lap would be shot by Al ‘Scarface’ Capone. Which is silly, because Scarface has been arrested and is likely to spend a long time in prison. But of course there are lots of other gangsters in America.
I’m not going to think about it. I’m not! Phar Lap is going to be well-protected. Mr Woodcock is there with him day and night. He protected him last time. And Dad will too, of course. They’re going to take great care of him. He’s going to be all right.
November 20
Today we went down to the docks to farewell Phar Lap and Tommy Woodcock, who were setting out on the first leg of their journey, to New Zealand. They arrived in Sydney from Melbourne yesterday. Mr Telford and the Davises were there, and a big crowd of onlookers too (it had been announced in all the newspapers). There were also lots of reporters, photographers with flashing light-bulbs, and even people from Movietone News with their big cameras, filming everything. Phar Lap looked as beautiful as ever, but a bit startled by all the attention, and maybe the sight of the ship and the water. When he was led into the crate to be loaded onto the ship, he scrabbled around a bit and rolled his eyes, but then Tommy Woodcock got in with him and stroked and petted him, and he settled down as the crane slowly winched them both up into the air and swung them across to the deck of the ship. Dad says he’s going to be even more dependent on Mr Woodcock now he’s going to be far from home. The sea journey is going to be a strain (I wonder if horses get sea-sick?) and so will the very different places he’s going to be taken to. I wonder what he thinks is happening? And what he’ll think of New Zealand and America? Do horses neigh in different accents, I wonder?
As the ship pulled away from the quay, everyone cheered, and people shouted things like, ‘You go get ’em, Phar Lap!’ and ‘Show those Yanks who’s boss, Big Red!’ but some people were crying too. I was one of them, and as to Lizzie, she was bawling.
November 27
The papers had pictures of Phar Lap being led safely off the ship in New Zealand. Apparently he had a good journey and is fit. He is staying there for six weeks, not racing but resting. There were huge crowds at the docks there too to see him arrive. The New Zealanders love Phar Lap just about as much as we do, because although all his triumphs have been in Australia, he was born there and so they are very proud of him too.
December 15
A note arrived from Miss O’Brien today! It was only short, but she said she was delighted that we were coming and was looking forward to it very much. She said that if we gave her the name and date of our ship, she’d be there to meet us!
Dad is going around the house singing. He has been working very hard lately, not only on cases for Mr Kane, but also all sorts of odd jobs he can pick up. (He says times are beginning to improve at last and there’s more work about.) He wants to save up as much money as possible to take with us. The Davises are paying for both our return fares, second class of course, and he’ll get a fee, but he thinks we should still be prepared. So I don’t see a lot of him and quite often have dinner at the Walters’ place, but that’s all right. Lizzie and I talk about the trip a lot, we are marking the dates on the calendars with crosses. I feel pretty restless and like I ca
n’t concentrate easily, so I don’t feel much like writing, either in this diary or anything else. I wish I could just go to sleep and wake up when it’s January and we’ll be on our way!
School finishes soon. We have some tests the day after tomorrow, so I better stop writing and start studying!
December 20
We can breathe a bit more easily. Jack Hardy is dead. Dad’s police contact told him today that a body had been fished out of the Parramatta River and it had been positively identified as that of Jim Murphy, Hardy’s alias. There’s no doubt it’s him, Dad says. The police think it’s likely he fell into the river while drunk, but there’s a possibility someone might have pushed him in. Dad says they aren’t busting a gut trying to prove it one way or the other. The man was a villain, and like most villains, he made enemies and no-one seems sorry he’s dead.
Dad’s a bit annoyed that he was never able to track Hardy down himself and ask him questions, but at least now he’s out of the picture permanently. As to the crooked car-dealer Freeman, he’s closed up his yard and moved to Adelaide.
December 25
We had a lovely Christmas day at the Walters’ place. We went to church in the morning and then gave out presents and had a great big Christmas dinner which was a combined thing. Our chooks are such good producers of eggs that we can’t keep up with them, so we’ve been selling them, and we made enough money to buy a big fat chicken for roasting, which we took to the Walters’. (Mrs Walters’s scrumptious Christmas cake and pudding were also made with our eggs.) Mr Walters had got a small ham from somewhere, and there were lots of vegies, spuds, pumpkin, beans and things like that. We had a tree too, a branch that Mr Walters had cut, and we’d decorated it with tinsel and paper chains and nuts whose shells we’d painted in bright colours. It looked lovely!
After dinner the grown-ups sat around talking and Tilly had a nap, but Lizzie and the twins and I went out to play in the street with the neighbours’ kids. The girls played hopscotch and the boys kicked a ball around, it was a lot of fun. Then we all went in again and ate some more and we listened to the Christmas programme on the radio, and then we ate a bit more, and by the time we got home I was so full I could hardly walk.
Here are the presents I got: some new hair-ribbons from Mr and Mrs Walters, a box of toffees from Lizzie, a gobstopper from the twins, a drawing from Tilly, and from Dad a Christmas gift-book full of stories and poems and pictures, as well as a new frock to take to America! The Bellinis also sent a box of chocolates for Dad and me to share, but we shared it out with the Walters as well.
In just a few weeks now we are going to New Zealand! I can’t wait!
January 4, 1932
There’s a photo in the paper today of Phar Lap and Tommy Woodcock leaving New Zealand. They have gone on board a specially appointed ship, whose name is the Monawai, for the second stage of their journey, across the great Pacific Ocean to California. Phar Lap is an old hand at sailing now!
Oh, a funny thing, also: they quoted Jimmy Pike’s reply when he was asked whether he thought an American horse could beat Phar Lap: ‘The only way they’ll do that is if they breed a horse with wings and get Kingsford Smith to fly him!’
January 6
Surprise note from Billy today—he’s coming to Sydney, with the Bellinis, to see me and Dad before we go off! They said he needed a treat as he’d been working so hard. It’ll be nice to see him again.
January 22
Haven’t written in this for ages because everything’s been so busy. The Bellinis and Billy have just gone back to Melbourne today, they came for a week and had a great visit. We took them around everywhere, including the training stables at Randwick, and the racecourses. I felt a bit shy with Billy at first, because of not seeing him for so long and because he did look different, taller and older, but after a bit it was all right, and we got on very well. Lizzie and Billy got on fine too, she said afterwards she thought he was one of the nicest boys she had ever met. Which isn’t saying much, as Lizzie doesn’t have a very high opinion of boys. But still I was glad that both my friends got on, because it could’ve been awful if they’d disliked each other.
Nearly time to go now. I’m marking off the days!
January 30
Tonight we are at Lizzie’s place because we’re leaving tomorrow! We left our cottage because we can’t afford to keep paying the rent while we’re away. All our things are stored in Mr Walters’s shed and we’ve given them our chooks. I am really excited, it’s going to be such a wonderful adventure! But I can’t help feeling a bit nervous too. I’m going to miss everyone and I don’t know if I’ll like it away from home. I’m not sure about the boat trip either. I’ve never been on a long one before, only as far as Manly on the ferry, and Lizzie says that doesn’t really count. I hope I won’t get too seasick! Lizzie says I’m bound to, though. She says just about everyone gets sick.
February 2
On the boat to New Zealand.
Lizzie was right, I was really sick at first. (Unlike Dad who seemed to take it all in his stride. He says he’s just a natural sailor. Well, lucky him!) Now I’m a lot better. Not much has happened on the trip (apart from me getting sick, that is). You hardly see anything except sea sea sea. But today I did see some dolphins not far from the ship, it was really nice to watch them play and leap about. Tomorrow morning we dock in Wellington. My auntie May, Dad’s sister whom I’ve never met, will be there to meet us.
February 10
Wellington, New Zealand.
We’ve been staying at Auntie May’s house for a week now. It is a small, neat house and she is a small, neat person with tight lips and eyes that don’t smile much. Not at all like Dad! She’s quite friendly, in a funny sort of way, though she can be a bit gruff. I think that’s because she’s actually a bit shy and is not used to other people being around.
On her mantelpiece there’s a wedding photo of my grandparents, Dad and Auntie’s parents, whom I never met of course. Dad looks a lot like his mum, and May more like their dad. There’s also a picture of Dad as a small boy, sitting on his mum’s lap with Auntie May scowling in the background. It’s really nice to see them, they’re the first pictures I’ve seen of Dad as a little boy. And there’s a photo of the house they used to live in, which was only a few streets away from May’s present house. She inherited it when they died, but she said it was too big for her so she sold it and bought this one instead.
Auntie May is not much of a one for conversation, so meals can be an effort (especially as she doesn’t have much of an idea about cooking either, she tends to burn things and overcook them so they taste funny). Just about any topic that you raise, she says, ‘Well, I wouldn’t know about that,’ and so it’s hard to carry on. Dad tried to talk about Phar Lap, but she says she doesn’t know about horses, and doesn’t approve of racing. Dad said lamely, ‘Well, did you read about him anyway? There seems to be a lot of interest in him here from what we’ve heard.’ She shrugged and said she supposed there was, but she thought it was a lot of fuss over nothing.
She might not know about horses, but she does have a dog she loves very dearly. He’s a terrier called Billy and he reminds me rather of Billy Fox, at least as he used to be, small and gingery and yappy and excitable! He has his own armchair, and woe betide you if you try to take it from him! And he is mad about his ball which he keeps bringing to you to throw, over and over again. He drives Dad mad, but I think he’s rather sweet!
Auntie May is a secretary and works in an office, but she has taken three weeks’ holiday to be with us. She has a little car and takes us on trips out and about. The first day we had a look around Wellington, which is a nice town. It is in a beautiful setting around a bay, with hills and mountains in the background. Dad showed me his old school and we also had a look at the buildings and the shops (it’s a small town compared to Sydney and Melbourne, so that didn’t take very long, especially as Auntie May is not very fond of window-shopping). We had a picnic lunch in a park, where Billy ran
round and round in circles begging for us to throw him his ball, again and again and again!
We’ve been on some great trips around Wellington, into the hills and mountains, the Hutt Valley, the Kapiti Coast, and lots more. It is really beautiful, quite spectacular in fact. It’s also very different from Australia. The trees are different, the mountains are bigger, the air has a different feel to it. New Zealanders talk differently, too—I’ve been used to Dad’s accent, of course, but it is pretty faint now compared with Auntie May’s and other people’s. In fact Auntie May says he sounds like an Aussie now!
I’ve sent Lizzie, Billy and Miss O’Brien each a postcard from Wellington. Dad’s sent one to the Bellinis. I hope they get there all right!
There was an article in the paper yesterday about Phar Lap and Mr Woodcock arriving in San Francisco. Mr Davis was there to greet them, and also people from the racing club at that Mexican place where he’s going to race. A big crowd of reporters and photographers was there to see him too. They’ve all heard of Phar Lap’s exploits and are keen to get ‘from the horse’s mouth’ a notion of whether he’ll do as well over there as at home. They’re calling him the ‘Antipodean Antelope’ and the ‘Big Train from the Antipodes’. Did you ever hear such silly names?
February 21
It’s our last day in New Zealand. Tomorrow we get the steamship for San Francisco. We’ll be two weeks at sea, with a stop in Papeete, which is in Tahiti. Auntie May seems to be sorry we’re going, she splashed out on our last dinner and bought a small roast chicken instead of the burnt chops she’s always serving up. I helped her prepare it, and while we were working she suddenly started talking about Dad when he was a boy, and what a ‘little caution’ he was, and the things he got up to. He really was very naughty, but in a funny (haha) sort of way! When Dad came in from the sitting-room and asked what we were laughing about so much, Auntie May and I just looked at each other and laughed even more. And Billy yapped excitedly, bouncing up and down on his little short legs, thinking someone was going to throw him the ball!
The Phar Lap Mystery Page 11