Freedom's Land (22 page)

‘Let me help you out of it . . .’

He made it fun, undressing her, whispering, teasing her into cuddles, which led to caresses until they were moving together in the ancient rhythms, moving on to an ecstasy she’d never achieved before.

She was shocked by her own responses, shocked and delighted at the same time.

‘You’re a grand lass,’ he murmured in her ear and fell asleep between one breath and the next.

She smiled in the darkness and let herself sink into sleep too. The floor seemed comfortable enough tonight.

In the morning, Norah woke before her husband and lay studying his face, which looked younger when he was asleep. He was not only a strong man, but had proved to be a virile and considerate one, too. She had never experienced such a night, wondered where he had learned to pleasure a woman like that.

He stirred and woke up suddenly, staring round in a quick appraisal of where he was. Then his eyes returned to her face and he smiled. ‘I feel we’re well and truly married now. Don’t you?’

She blushed. ‘Yes.’ Then she heard one of the children stirring. ‘We’d better got the beds sorted out quickly before they come in here.’

He was up in a minute, holding out his hand to pull her to her feet and chuckling when she gave a squeak and tried to cover her naked body. ‘Don’t be ashamed,’ he whispered. ‘You’ve a lovely body.’

But she wasn’t used to being undressed in anyone’s company and slipped her dressing gown on till she could have a quick wash. They lifted the blankets back on to the stretcher beds and folded up the canvas groundsheet, then she washed quickly in cold water and while she was dressing, he followed her example.

After that there was no time to think, with a fire to light in the kitchen, breakfast to prepare and a cow to milk, not to mention the people who got milk in the mornings turning up to collect their supplies.

Janie was sulky but Norah ignored that and kept her daughter busy. Heaven knew, there were enough jobs, all done under difficult conditions. She missed the ease of cooking on gas and the convenience of a water tap over a sink. Fetching all the water from the well was hard. Andrew and the boys took their turns when they were home, but they were gone all day.

She managed to find time during the day to dig out more ground for a vegetable garden. Andrew was going to extend the fence for this, to keep the wild animals away. When that was done, she’d plant peas and cabbage and onions. She was so thankful she’d taken advice and brought packets of seeds with her.

That evening, when Andrew and the boys came home, the lads were their usual cheerful selves. She couldn’t help noticing, however, that they didn’t speak to Janie unless they had to, and when they did, it was scornfully. Her heart ached for her daughter, who was making such a mess of her new family life. She’d tried to have a little talk with the child today, but no matter what she said or how often she said it, Janie scowled and went her own stubborn way.

Well, there were no grandparents here to spoil her and jolly her along, so in time she’d surely learn to get on with others. She knew Janie was still grieving for her granddad and missing her grandma. So was Norah. Everyone lost people they loved, but nothing you said or did could change what had happened. Death was part of life, and so was getting on with people.

The next night, with another two humpies finished, Irene and Freddie were on their own again. They’d made love furtively on the ship too, crawling into a lifeboat together more than once. And they hadn’t been the only ones to do that, either. The sailors had turned a blind eye to it as long as you kept quiet and left things tidy.

But they’d not even tried to escape into the bush once they were sharing the humpy. Indeed, Freddie hardly ever made love to her now. So much had changed.

‘I’ve something to tell you,’ she said as they sat near the fire outside under a star-filled sky. She heard her voice wobble and forgot the speech she’d planned. ‘Freddie, I’m expecting a baby.’

He looked at her in horror. ‘You can’t be! Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure.’ She reached out to grasp his hand, but he shook her off and stood up, staring down into the fire that was crackling cheerfully, a beacon in the darkness around their humpy.

‘Aren’t you glad about it?’ she asked when he didn’t speak. ‘We’ll be a real family now. And I’m sure things will go all right this time.’

He didn’t turn round to face her. ‘No, I’m not glad. I wanted to wait, you know I did. How could it have happened? We were being so
careful
.’

‘No way is foolproof except abstinence, the doctor said. And I’m glad. I want a child.’

‘It’ll be too much for you.’

‘No, it won’t.’

‘What about the birth? We’re so far from a doctor here.’

‘Well, thanks to the Bush Nursing Association, there’s been a nursing sister at the hospital in Northcliffe since March and she’s a trained midwife.’

‘Call that a hospital! It’s a cottage, that’s all.’

‘Other babies have been born there and so will ours.’

‘What if the nurse has been called out when your time comes? What will you do then?’

‘The other women in our group will help me. I won’t be on my own. Pam knows quite a bit about birthing. She was telling me the other day that she’s helped other women.’

He didn’t answer her, only kicked out at some pieces of burning wood that had fallen out of the fire.

She reached out to touch his arm. ‘Oh, Freddie, think of having our own baby! You’re not a real family till you have children.’

He shook her hand off and turned, and his face looked ugly in the flickering light, ugly and bitter. ‘What do I care about babies? It’s you I love. I can’t bear it if I lose you.’ He made a sweeping gesture with one hand to encompass the dark mass of bush that was waiting to be cleared from their block. ‘If anything happens to you, this will all have been in vain.’

She was bitterly disappointed by his reaction to her news, as well as by his attitude to their new life. She loved it here. She wanted to shout at him, but she didn’t. It’d do no good. The new Freddie just shouted back. ‘This time it’ll all go well, I’m sure. I’m feeling fine, better than I have for years. No morning sickness, even.’

‘You’ve not lived through a winter here yet. It’s winter that always makes you ill. We should find a way to get rid of the baby. It’s still early days, easy enough to do.’

She stared at him in horror. ‘Kill our own child? You can’t mean that!’

‘Oh, yes I do. They sell things to help women in your situation. You can’t be far along, surely?’

‘It doesn’t matter how far along I am. I’d never do that, never!’

‘It’s going to be gruelling hard work when our cows arrive. You’ll be in no fit state to milk morning and evening if you’re expecting. We have to think of ourselves, our new life. Promise me you’ll think about it. I’ll find somewhere to buy whatever’s necessary, even if I have to go up to Perth to get it, and—’

Her voice was thick with tears. ‘Hard work doesn’t kill you, but a mortal sin kills your soul. Never, ever ask me to do such a thing, Freddie, because I won’t.’

He glared at her as if he hated her then got up and strode off into the darkness, tramping off along the track.

She sat on for a while in front of the dying fire, hugging her stomach, sending warm thoughts to the child growing there. If Freddie didn’t love their child, she didn’t know what she’d do. Children needed love to thrive and grow into decent, happy people.

How could he even think of killing their baby?

She was tired now, tired and feeling chill inside, so sick with disappointment that she thought she’d vomit. Freddie had let her down, turned into a stranger she didn’t know. Was this why couples fell out of love? She’d seen it happen, however rapturous the start of a marriage. What if he continued to hate the thought of a baby? What would she do? How would she feel about him?

She didn’t wait for Freddie to come back, but went inside the humpy and got into bed, huddling down on the floor, where they’d spread out their blankets on a piece of canvas, expecting to make love.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she didn’t let herself sob, kept listening for him, trying to hang on to a belief that he’d return and say he’d been wrong, hadn’t meant it.

Only he didn’t and gradually her hope vanished and with it, some of her love for Freddie. She knew it, couldn’t help it, wept over it.

She lay there for a long time and the fire outside died right down, leaving everything in darkness.

But he didn’t come back.

Gil heard footsteps on the track and got up from his usual position by the fire. Surely they didn’t have another thief? Well, he wasn’t letting people wander round at night and rob others.

He went quietly towards the track and recognised Freddie Dawson in the moonlight. ‘Everything all right, lad?’

Freddie stopped, breathing deeply, looking so unhappy that Gil moved closer. ‘Want to tell me about it? I may be able to help.’

The answer was a harsh laugh. ‘No one can help. She’s gone and got herself in the family way. We were taking precautions. It shouldn’t have happened. And she won’t do anything about it. This isn’t the time to have a child.’

Gil listened in disgust. ‘You should be rejoicing about that baby!’ He couldn’t help speaking sharply. ‘I’d have given all I own to have a child.’

‘Well, you can have this one if you like.
I
don’t want it.’

‘Come and sit by the fire. You need to calm down.’

But Freddie shook his arm off. ‘The only way I’ll do that is walk. And even then I have to go back and let her put a chain on me. We’ll never be free to make a better life if we start having children. And that means we’ll never get away from here.’

‘You hate it, don’t you?’

‘Yes. But I was prepared to do it, to put up with it for a while, for
her
. I’d do anything to get her back to health. And she
is
better. Now she’ll get ill again like she was last time she was expecting.’

‘Having a child doesn’t make you ill.’

‘It did Irene. She nearly died last time. And the baby did die. Oh, what’s the use of talking?’

Gil watched Freddie storm off along the dark track, still walking in the opposite direction to his home, walking quickly, shoulders hunched, his whole body radiating unhappiness.

Shaking his head, Gil went to make sure the fire was safe and then sought his bed.

Some people didn’t understand how lucky they were.

When Freddie eventually returned, just before dawn, Irene had moved from feeling upset to feeling furiously angry with him. So she pretended she was asleep and was even more annoyed when he didn’t try to wake her to say he was sorry.

Soon he was breathing so evenly and deeply beside her, she knew he was asleep. And perhaps that was for the best. She didn’t want to quarrel with him, was afraid of what she might say. She’d never realised how protective you’d feel if your baby’s life was openly threatened.

Surely by morning Freddie would have grown used to the idea and be starting to feel some pleasure at the thought of a son or daughter? He had to. She couldn’t bear it if he didn’t, because she couldn’t imagine life without children of her own, wanted several. And she couldn’t imagine life without Freddie, either. Not this new Freddie, but the loving man she’d defied her family and church to marry.

The following week, Gil received another shipment of timber and corrugated iron for building cowsheds, together with the news that the first batch of cows was on its way and the animals would be there ‘in a day or two’.

‘You’d think they could give us better notice than that,’ he muttered, then set to work with the men to sort out the timber and plan how they could best use it.

During the next two days, he worked the men hard to build as many simple cowsheds with adjoining dairy area as they could, ignoring their grumbles about ‘slave drivers’ and insisting they work every hour of daylight.

He answered all grumbles about this hard work with, ‘You can have a day off when the cows arrive. You’ll need it to get used to them. In the meantime, it’s getting cooler and wetter. We must have shelters ready for them. These are cows in milk not hardy young steers, you know.’

Even after the hard days’ work, some of them went home to fashion bits of furniture for their own houses by the light of their oil lamps, or do other jobs needed to create a farm from nothing. He was beginning to spot the ones who had most chance of succeeding, and Andrew Boyd stood out like a bright star among these, while Norah and Pam were the most capable of the women.

The groupies made furniture from the crates that had carried their possessions out from England, and the wooden boxes in which tins of food arrived were much sought after too. Bits of tree trunks and pieces of wood from the block clearances were used ingeniously and anything straight enough was set aside, with pieces of log serving as stools and rough, home-sawn planks used for makeshift tables.

Those men who weren’t as handy at woodwork, but eager to learn, went round to watch the men who were, or offered to help in return for being taught how to do it.

Freddie, however, kept to himself after the day’s obligatory work was finished and though Gil kept an eye on him, he couldn’t think what to do to help him settle down. It was Irene he felt sorry for, because she fitted in so well, and usually seemed cheerful enough as she went about her work.

But when she was with her husband, you could sense the strains between them, see the shadows in her eyes as she looked at him, the resentment in his and increasingly, the resentment in hers.

Gil was very frustrated with the Board’s ineptitudes. He always seemed to be trying to make up for their poor planning. The timing of this delivery was ridiculous. The other groups were ahead of them in building and settling in, so maybe they’d be all right, but Special Group 1 had not had time to finish clearing the twenty-five acres set as a preliminary goal for each block.