Freedom's Land (27 page)

‘You
know
I’ve never been unfaithful, Freddie, and if you don’t, then our whole marriage is a mockery.’ With that she got ready for bed, ignoring him but waiting for him to say he was sorry, hadn’t meant it. He had a hot temper, but he was always sorry when he said hurtful things.

But this time he didn’t apologise, didn’t say a single word to her.

Janie wasn’t the only one to weep into her pillow that night.

In the middle of the third night, Norah was drowsing on her bed, which she’d pulled alongside Andrew’s. She was holding his hand, had been for a while, though his was limp and unresponsive.

When she felt his fingers twitch in hers, she came fully awake with a start. Had she imagined that or had he really moved?

She waited a long time and had given up hope, thinking she must have imagined it, when his hand moved again. It definitely did. And this time he gave a low groan as well, the first sound he’d made since the accident.

She was out of bed in an instant, turning up the lamp that had been left burning low on a shelf between two uprights. As she came back to him, she saw his head move slowly from side to side. He winced, groaning again as the bruised part of his forehead touched the pillow.

She took hold of his hand. ‘Andrew, love. Can you hear me?’

His eyes opened and he stared at her, looking totally puzzled as if rousing from a very deep sleep. Then he closed them again.

When she bent to kiss his cheek, he looked at her again, his eyes crinkling at the corners as if he was trying to smile.

‘You’ve been hurt in an accident, but you’re going to be all right.’

He stared at her for so long she began to wonder if he’d understood what she said, then he opened his mouth and croaked, ‘Thirsty.’

‘I’ll get you a drink. Don’t try to move.’

When she brought a cup of water back to him, his eyes were closed again. She hesitated, but she wanted to get some liquid into him. ‘Are you still awake?’

‘Mmm.’ He looked at her and tried to reach out for the cup, but must have jarred his arm, because breath whistled into his mouth as if it hurt.

‘You’ve broken your arm. Don’t try to sit up yourself. I’ll hold you up and help you drink.’

He took about half the water in the cup then pulled back from it, so she let him lie down again and put the cup on the ground beside the bed.

‘I’ll just wash your face and hands. You’ll feel better then. After that you need to sleep, love, so that you can get well again.’

She had a damp washcloth ready, had tried to think what might be needed when he awoke. The cloth was cold, so she warmed it against her own cheek for a few moments then gently cleaned his face and hands, knowing how that freshened you up.

He closed his eyes as she did this, murmuring, ‘Mmm.’

When she’d put down the washcloth, she turned to find him asleep again, breathing as softly and evenly as a child. Was it her imagination or did he have a bit more colour? She didn’t try to wake him, but watched for a few moments, then turned down the lamp. When she got back into her own bed, she reached out for his hand again.

He’d seemed to understand what was going on and he’d had a drink of water. Surely they were signs that he would get better again, properly better, not like a lad down their street back home, who’d had a bang on the head and lost half his wits as a result.

No, she mustn’t think of that, must concentrate on Andrew’s recovery, on finding ways to help him. She’d have to deal with the cows and everything else on her own until his arm healed, but she could manage. The children would help more and . . .

She fell asleep, still holding his hand.

Janie woke with a start when Mr Dawson shook her.

‘Time for you to go and help look after the animals at your place, young lady.’

She pulled away from him, looking round for Irene.

‘She’ll be back in a minute. Your family will need your help today, so I decided to wake you up.’

‘I don’t like cows.’

He laughed harshly. ‘Neither do I. But we both have to deal with them. I’m going outside now. When I get back, I expect to see you up and dressed, ready to start work. If you’re not, I’ll pull you out of bed myself.’

To her relief it was Mrs Dawson – Auntie Irene – who came back first.

‘Oh, you’re awake, Janie. That’s good.’

‘Mr Dawson woke me. He said I have to go and help milk our cows. I don’t, do I?’

‘You ought to see if you can help, dear. Your mother’s going to need you. Do you want a drink of yesterday’s milk before you go or shall you wait for the fresh milk?’

‘I don’t want anything, thank you.’ Feeling that nobody understood her, Janie went towards the door, turning to look pleadingly at the woman smiling at her.

‘We all have to do our share of the chores, dear, even the ones we don’t like.’

So Janie went outside. Last night it had seemed that Mrs Dawson understood. She’d even said to call her auntie. But this morning everything was bad again. No one cared how she felt. No one.

With dragging feet, Janie walked across to the next block and peeped in at her mother, who was making a pot of tea in the lean-to.

‘Your father woke during the night. He’s going to be all right,’ she said with a smile. ‘Isn’t that wonderful?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have you come to help with the animals? The boys have just started on the cows, but you can see to the chooks.’

Her mother went back into the humpy, so Janie followed.

When she looked across at the bed she saw
him
staring at her. She was glad he wasn’t going to die. She didn’t like it when people died. But that didn’t change the fact that she hated it here, or that her mother now loved him more than she did Janie.

As she walked past the cowshed, Jack said, ‘You’re late. The hens need feeding and the eggs collecting. And you didn’t help at all yesterday.’

‘She’s here now,’ Ned said in his softer voice. ‘Did you see Dad, Janie? He’s woken up. Isn’t that marvellous?’

‘Yes.’

‘You don’t sound glad.’ Jack scowled at her.

‘Well, I am.’

A few tears went into the bucket of water she got from the well and carried across to the chooks, but though Jack turned his head to watch her go past, he didn’t notice. He didn’t care whether she was unhappy or not. They weren’t really her brothers, whatever anyone said.

As the boys finished milking, Gil came in to join them.

‘We’re just finishing, Mr Matthews,’ Ned said. ‘We made sure everything was clean.’

‘That’s a good lad. Now, let’s get that cream separated and down to the gate ready for the truck.’ As a few people had found to their cost, if the cream wasn’t ready, the truck just drove straight past. It had a tight schedule and didn’t wait for anyone.

No one seemed to notice or need her, so Janie wandered back to the house, where her mother told her to stir the porridge and make sure it didn’t burn. They’d had milky porridge every day since the cows arrived and she was sick of it. She thought of letting it burn, but didn’t, because she’d still have to eat it and then scour the pan out.

It was horrible here. No one loved her any more.

When Gil went into the house and saw that Andrew was awake, he closed his eyes and said a thank you to fate, or God, or whatever was out there watching over the Boyds. Then he helped Norah tend to Andrew’s needs, calling out to Janie to stay outside until they’d finished.

Andrew ate a small helping of porridge, with his friend’s help then looked down at his arm. ‘I shan’t be able to work till this is better, so I shan’t be earning any money.’

‘No. Sorry.’ There was silence, then he made the offer he knew his friend would refuse. ‘Um – have you enough to tide you over? It’ll be over a month before you can use that arm again, the doctor said, and even then you won’t be able to do the heavy work.’

There was no answer. ‘Look, we’re friends, aren’t we? And friends help one another, so if you haven’t enough, I can lend you some.’

‘We can manage.’ But Andrew’s expression was grim. Gil could understand that. No one liked to use up their savings, especially in circumstances like these, so far away from family and friends. What if something else bad happened and the Boyds had nothing to fall back on?

He realised with surprise that he’d turn to them without hesitation if he was in trouble. It was the first time he’d made real friends since Mabel’s death. Dear Mabel! The memories no longer brought that overwhelming rush of anguish, but he still missed her – and missed being married, sharing his life with someone.

Was it too much to hope that one day he’d find someone to love again?

Someone who wasn’t already married.

The children milked the cows again in the evening, and did a good job, too. The boys were annoyed at having to sleep away at Pam’s again, because they wanted to help look after their father, but everyone thought it better to let Andrew and his wife have another night where it didn’t matter if they were up and down.

Janie shrugged when told to sleep at Irene’s again.

Norah was relieved to be having a quiet night, felt very tired now that the crisis was over.

‘Thank you,’ Andrew said abruptly as they settled down for the night.

‘What for?’

‘Looking after me so well.’

‘That’s what a wife’s for.’

‘I’m sorry the burden of caring for the animals will fall on you from now on, but I’m sure I’ll be able to do some of the jobs around the place as soon as this dizziness goes.’

He’d nearly fallen when he tried to stand up and if she hadn’t been there, might have hurt himself again. ‘The boys have taken care of the cows and milking. They’re both good lads and Jack is very capable. We’ll manage just fine. You concentrate on getting better and don’t try to do too much. The doctor will be coming again tomorrow and he’ll tell you what to do – and what not to do. And I’d be grateful if you’d pay attention to his advice.’

He chuckled and held out his hand to her. ‘You sounded quite fierce then.’

She lay there, her hands enlaced in his, enjoying being alone with him for once. ‘I can be very fierce, if necessary. If you try to do too much too soon, I’ll stop you.’ She hesitated before adding, ‘I’ll be really careful with the money, too, make it spin out. I’m a good manager.’

‘I know you are. I’m not happy to have to use our savings, but that’s what the money’s for, a rainy day.’ Silence then, ‘Do you think my arm will heal properly?’

‘The doctor said Gil had done a good job of setting it.’

‘I hope you paid the doctor for his services.’

‘Not yet. It’ll be quite expensive, I should think. He’d had to come a long way.’

‘We’ll pay him tomorrow then. I’ve always paid my way. Always.’

She saw him move his head and grimace. ‘Is your head still aching?’

‘A little.’

‘Shall I turn the lamp off?’

‘Leave it burning low. I’d like to see your face if I wake in the night.’

In the morning, it was all bustle. Gil turned up to help Andrew again, and the children did the milking, with Gil checking that everything was done properly and then putting an expression of pride on Jack’s face by praising him for a job well done.

Even Janie looked after the chooks without being told, washing the eggs and carrying them carefully to the kitchen.

When Norah praised her for that she looked pleased.

The doctor arrived in the early afternoon, and was delighted to see that his patient had recovered consciousness and was in full possession of his senses. He left some powders for the headaches, which should go away in a few days, and checked the arm, nodding approval.

‘I shan’t come again unless you send for me, because you seem to be making a good recovery, Mr Boyd. Just remember, don’t try to use that arm too much until it’s healed properly, or you could weaken it.’

‘I’ll be careful. Now, how much do we owe you?’

The doctor hesitated, then glanced round and asked bluntly, ‘Can you afford to pay me?’

Andrew’s expression was grim. ‘Yes.’

When the doctor had gone, he said to Norah, ‘I don’t want people thinking we need their charity.’

‘I know. Gil’s going to show Jack how to trap possums for meat, and we have the eggs now, plus plenty of milk, so we shall do all right for food.’

His fierce expression softened. ‘You’re wonderful.’

Those words gave her a warm glow that lasted for a long time.

All seemed set fair for the Boyds, then later the next day, more cows were delivered to everyone in the group without any warning. There was no hiding the two new animals from Andrew, who had made them turn his bed round so that he could see out of the door and was talking about getting up and seeing which jobs he could do one-handed.

When their new cows were brought up to join the others, he insisted on being helped to the door, where he sat on the rocking chair, looking pale but determined.

‘They’re not a bad pair,’ the man said, slapping one on the rump. ‘Gil chose yours for you. He knows his cows, that chap does. Had an accident, have you?’

‘Yes. And it couldn’t have happened at a worse time.’

‘There’s never a good time for an accident, is there? Just be glad you’ve not lost an arm or a leg.’

He drove the final few cows away up the track to the next farm, whistling cheerfully, and Norah set the children to work, refilling the cows’ water trough. The three of them were sleeping at home again now, and they’d be needed, with the new cows to settle in and the chooks to look after, not to mention the cooking and other household chores still to be done.

The boys worked hard and Jack in particular was a great help, bringing wood for the cooking fire and trying to chop up more with an axe that was too big for him, until Norah stopped that.

‘It’s dangerous you using that big axe, Jack. We don’t want any more accidents.’