Our Australian Girl (2 page)

D
AISY
clung tighter to Jimmy's mane. Her hair billowed wildly behind her as they galloped through the paddock. If only it weren't so cold, Daisy thought, leaning closer to Jimmy for warmth. It felt like ice water was rushing through her veins instead of blood.

‘I'm freezing,' Daisy muttered to herself over the steady pounding of Jimmy's hooves.

‘Oi, get off me girl, and stop your jibbering. A woman can't sleep with that going on.'

Daisy sat up fast, her heart thumping. Where was she? Where was Jimmy? She blinked into the darkness as a horrible realisation slowly wrapped around her. She was in Dudley Flats, alone. A sob sprang from her lips.

‘I warn you, urchin, one more sound and I'll box your ears,' Mrs Owens threatened.

‘Sorry,' Daisy whispered, her voice thick with sadness as she shuffled away from the woman. She was still shivering with cold and realised she'd been trying to huddle up to Mrs Owens in her sleep.

‘Shut up or get out,' Mrs Owens muttered.

As Daisy's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out the shape of the table and fruit boxes. It was her fourth night in the shanty-town, and there'd been no sign of Mabel or Elsie since they'd dropped her off.

Rain drummed on the flimsy wooden boards above her and Daisy realised that was the sound she'd heard in her dream. Patches of weak dawn light began to appear through the cracks in the roof where fat raindrops leaked in. The last of the stars were fading. Daisy was too cold to sleep anymore. She stood up and tried to shake out the pins and needles that filled her legs like fizzy lemonade. She crouched low and groped for the makeshift door. Shifting the tin quietly, she crept out into the silent dawn.

The rain was easing to a miserable drizzle that made the view outside even bleaker than usual. I thought it was bad at Aunty May's, Daisy thought, but this is much, much worse.

She pictured Flora, asleep on Aunty May's couch, with food in her belly and a blanket to keep her warm. At least she'll be looked after until I can come up with a plan to rescue her, Daisy thought. She gritted her teeth. She'd get her family back no matter what. But where should she start? All she knew was that Dad was somewhere in the bush. She could try to kidnap Flora from Aunty May's, but then where would they go? Sometimes she dreamed of trying to get to Amelia's house, but how would she pay the train fare back to Healesville? And they couldn't live in Amelia's barn forever.

The angry growling of Daisy's stomach interrupted her thoughts. She couldn't save anyone if she starved to death. They'd probably just throw my body on the tip with all the other stuff no one wants. Tears rolled down her cold face and she shook herself. Moping wasn't going to help her now.

Daisy thought about the shelf of adventure stories at the farm that had been her mother's when she was a girl. She couldn't remember much about Mum, but when she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could still hear her reading aloud as they snuggled by the hearth in the wintertime. The girls in those stories always had lots of perils to overcome. Like them, Daisy had to be brave and strong.

‘Right,' she said to herself, ‘I am a heroine in an adventure, and I need to save my sister from an evil queen.' Her stomach rumbled again. ‘But first I need breakfast.' She began picking her way through the boggy ground. By now she was used to the ugly collection of huts built out of scraps scavenged from the nearby tip. Most looked like they were about to collapse.

A foul smelled tickled at her nostrils and she knew she was getting close to the tip, the main source of food and supplies for the desperate Dudley Flats community.

On the first morning after Mabel and Elsie had brought her here, Daisy had watched in horror as whole families clambered over the rubbish, clawing for the smallest scraps.

Daisy had sat away from the rotting pile, refusing to believe she'd ever be desperate enough to pick through it for food. Stealing from bins at the Victoria Market with the twins was one thing, but sifting through a mound of putrid rubbish was another altogether.

But by the second day Daisy was too hungry and tired to care where she got her food from, and now she was used to scrounging for anything to fill the aching emptiness inside.

She put her hand over her nose as she got to the edge of the huge pile of garbage, and kicked away some rusty cans and empty bottles. The sky was brightening, but the world was still sleeping, except for one or two skinny stray dogs that sniffed hopefully at the rubbish.

Please just let me find one piece of food, something that's not rotten or filled with maggots, Daisy thought.

The smell was terrible, and blowflies droned around her, but she kept fishing through the old newspapers and rotting vegetables.

‘Aha!' she exclaimed, pulling out a shrivelled potato. ‘You'll make a perfect breakfast.' Daisy rubbed the dirt off and put it in her pocket.

The memory of her father's strong hands digging potatoes on the farm flooded her mind. She could almost smell fresh earth, feel the sun on her back and see her father's smile clearly. Oh Dad, she thought, what's happened?

She took a deep breath and leaned down to push back a piece of tin with both hands, grunting with the effort. The rain had started falling harder again, slicking her hair to her face in thick, wet strands. ‘Come on,' Daisy panted, pushing at the tin again. She gave it one final shove, and the tin suddenly slid to one side, sending Daisy face forward into the garbage.

She felt something slimy and wet on her face, and put her hand in a sticky patch as she tried to push herself up.

‘Oooh,
disgusting
,' she groaned.

She finally stood and held her face up to the sky to wash off the slime. A stab of fear went through her. The potato! Her hand flew to her pocket, but it was still there. That will have to do. I've had enough scavenging for one day.

But just as she was turning to leave, she noticed the glint of something shiny. Daisy reached through layers of rubbish to grasp hold of the shiny object and pull it out.

She gasped. It was a small, dented biscuit tin with a bright picture of a parrot on the front. She wiped the dirt from the tin and forced open the lid. Excitement shot through her like a firework. There were a few broken biscuits left in the tin.

Oh my
goodness
, Daisy thought as her sadness slid away. She stuffed two biscuits into her mouth, crumbs spraying. They were stale and hard, but to Daisy they tasted like birthday cake, ice cream and sweets all rolled into one.

Today is going to be a good day, I can feel it! she thought. I'll bet the twins will finally come to see me and we'll come up with the perfect plan for finding Dad. She jumped down from the rubbish heap and washed the potato in a puddle, then rinsed the lid of the tin as well.

Mrs Owens was still asleep when Daisy returned. She crept to her corner and carefully filled the tin with Amelia's letters, the photo of Jimmy and the clipping from his mane that Amelia had given her. She closed the lid and hugged it to her.

A scream of sirens suddenly split the dawn and Mrs Owens immediately jumped up and groped for the door. ‘It's the coppers, girl. Run, run!' she cried.

Daisy peered outside to see a line of police cars parked on the edge of the muddy field, their sirens shrill in the early morning air. The huts around them erupted as people poured out clutching ragged possessions. ‘What is it? What's happening?' Daisy asked.

‘It's a bloomin' raid,' Mrs Owens answered, grabbing some rags and one of the fruit crates. ‘The coppers don't like us living here so they come and flatten the huts every coupla months.'

She pushed past Daisy. ‘Stay clear for a day or two, then everyone will be back building their mansions again,' she said, hobbling out into the rain.

Daisy was too shocked to move. Where could she go? Policemen in metal helmets began streaming from the cars and running towards the huts, yelling loudly at the inhabitants to clear out. As they reached the shanties, the police attacked the rickety homes with their batons, quickly knocking them to the ground.

Why was this happening? No one here was doing anything wrong. Daisy was still rooted to the spot when two policemen barreled up.

‘What do we have here?' one of them barked. ‘You'd better move yourself, girl, or you'll be squashed.' He raised his baton menacingly over the roof of the shanty.

Daisy couldn't think straight. She just stared at the policemen. Could things get any worse?

‘Hang on, Bill,' said the second policeman – a short fellow with bright red hair. ‘She's scared out of her wits.'

‘Bloody gutter urchin. Her parents probably told her to stay here to stop us knocking the place down,' the first policeman answered.

‘I don't have any parents,' Daisy shouted, finally finding her voice. ‘I don't have anyone!'

‘No parents, eh? Well, you'd better come with us,' the short policeman said. ‘Call me Bluey. We'll take you to Miss Dunham's place. She likes kids. She'll take care of you there.'

‘Really?' Daisy said. ‘Somewhere I can stay?'

‘Sure,' Bluey said. ‘They'll give you food and clothes and even send you to school.'

Daisy felt a wave of relief wash over her. So there was a safe place for her after all. Some kindly lady who takes in poor kids and looks after them until they get back on their feet, Daisy thought. Maybe she's a rich widow who loves children and couldn't have any of her own. Maybe she'll be like a fairy godmother with a glittering dress and a magic wand.

Bluey's firm hand on her shoulder put an end to her daydreams. He steered her through the mud and chaos. All around, the huts lay flattened in the mud and Daisy could hear children crying and women screaming, and the blows of the batons as they reduced the last shanties to rubble.

It's all so cruel, Daisy thought, her eyes filling with tears. These poor, poor people.

The policeman opened the door of a black police car and bundled her in. She was still hugging her biscuit tin to her chest.

My first car drive, Daisy thought as the policemen jumped in to the front seats and started the engine. She stared, fascinated, at the city waking from its slumber as they drove through the quiet streets. Soon the comforting rhythm of the drive and the sun's warm morning rays through the window had her nodding her head. She lay down on the seat and fell asleep.

I
T
seemed just minutes later that Bluey was shaking her from her slumber.

‘Come on, girl,' he said. ‘We're here.'

Daisy's head felt thick as she sat up and looked out the window at a huge brick mansion with a tall spire. ‘Oh my goodness! A castle,' she whispered to herself. ‘Look at all the windows – and the different peaks on the roof!'

The mansion stood in a magnificent sweeping garden with circular plant beds surrounded by neat paths. Oh, there's a pond! I wonder if they have tadpoles, Daisy thought.

Large pine trees stood like silent guards. Daisy noticed there were two more big houses on either side of the main house. They look quite grand, too. This Miss Dunham must take care of a lot of children.

‘What part of Melbourne is this?' Daisy asked. ‘I've never been anywhere so posh.'

‘This is Brighton, love,' Bluey replied as he walked her up the stone steps and rang the bell.

A girl a few years older than Daisy with a pinched face opened the door. ‘Yes?' she asked.

‘Police business, miss. Fetch a Cottage Mother, would you?'

‘Come in,' the girl said, letting them into a high-ceilinged hall with gleaming floorboards.

‘Wait here,' Bluey said, pointing to a wooden bench. Daisy sat with her tin on her lap. She could hear the high-pitched wail of a baby. Sounds hungry, poor mite, Daisy thought.

‘Right then,' Bluey said, striding back five minutes later. By his side was a plump woman in a starched white uniform. ‘This is Miss Dunham. She'll help you get settled.'

Daisy looked at them both in confusion. ‘Can you tell me what this place is exactly before I decide if I should stay?'

An angry flush spread across Miss Dunham's face and down onto her several chins. Wiry hairs sprouted from a mole on her cheek. ‘Oh!' she spluttered. ‘Lady Muck will be letting us know if she'd like to stay, will she?'

Bluey tousled Daisy's hair. ‘This is the Melbourne Orphanage. They'll keep you here till you're old enough to get a job.'

‘I can't stay here all that time!' Daisy cried, jumping up. ‘My family won't know where I am, and Amelia won't be able to send letters, and I have to find a way to track Dad down and get Flora back from Aunty May, and . . . '

‘I thought you said you were an orphan.' Bluey rubbed his forehead in confusion.

‘I'm not!' Daisy cried. Everything was happening too fast and her mind was a jumble.

‘Well, do you have somewhere I can take you, then?' Bluey asked. Daisy thought of Aunty May's threatening face and sadly shook her head. ‘No,' she said quietly, ‘but . . . '

‘No matter,' Miss Dunham cut her off. ‘Most of the children here aren't orphans. Their parents bring them in because they can't afford to keep them, so you'll fit in nicely.'

‘Can I leave when I find Dad?' Daisy asked, glancing wildly from Bluey to Miss Dunham.

‘Oh you are a funny one, aren't you?' the woman said coldly. ‘Thinking you can breeze in and out when it suits you.'

Daisy decided that the woman's eyes looked like two dark raisins squashed into a fruit bun.

‘You'll stay here now, till you're about sixteen,' Bluey said. ‘It's for the best, love. Anything could happen to you out there.'

Sixteen! Daisy was too dazed to speak. She'd been expecting a lovely old widow's home, not a prison with an evil warden. ‘But I don't have to stay, do I?' she said in a weak voice, ‘I can go and visit my sister when I want to, can't I?'

‘Right, I've had enough of your nonsense.' Miss Dunham nodded at Bluey. ‘Thank you, Officer, you may go – everything is in hand here.' With that, she motioned for Daisy to follow her, and waddled off down the corridor.

‘Bye now, good luck.' Bluey pulled his helmet on, and flung open the front door. A bright stream of warm October sun filled the hall, then the door closed and the warmth and light were shut out again.

‘Hurry up,' Miss Dunham said as Daisy grabbed her tin, her heart pounding.

They hurried through the main building and out into large grounds, where the smaller houses stood. Miss Dunham ushered Daisy inside a red-brick cottage and led her into a dormitory with fifteen metal beds in tight rows. Daisy could see that a small doorway led to a washroom, where a line of basins filled the wall. She wrinkled her nose at the strong chemical smell in the room.

Miss Dunham walked to a bank of steel lockers. She took a key from her pocket and unlocked the one at the end. ‘You will be Number Ten. See? It's painted on the locker and stamped on these boots, and you will sew it into these clothes. They look about your size.'

She passed Daisy a neatly folded bundle. ‘These are your school clothes and your day clothes. You are expected to take excellent care of them. You will sleep here,' she said and pointed to a bed against the wall. ‘Now, take those clothes into the washroom and get changed. I'll have one of the other girls come and sort you out.' Miss Dunham left her alone in the dormitory.

Daisy quickly hid the tin under the bed and went to change. She slipped a long-sleeved dress over her head and did up the buttons with shaking fingers. It was tight around her neck and made her feel like she was choking. She ran her finger inside the collar and tried to loosen it. It felt strange to be wearing something clean after so long. She sat on a small bench to pull on the new boots. They were too big and flopped around on her feet. She saw that they had a number ten stamped on the bottom. I really am a prisoner, she thought sadly, letting her hair fall over her face to cover her tears. I don't even have a name anymore.

‘Hello, new girl!' a bright voice called.

Daisy quickly wiped her face and looked up to see a small girl smiling at her.

‘I'm Edith,' she said, skipping into the room to shake Daisy's hand. ‘Ooh, it's something fearful to be the new girl, ain't it? How are you doing? What do you think of your clothes? Must be nice to be clean for a change. We'd best do something about that hair, though, before the Cottage Mother gives you a slap for looking like a right urchin.'

Daisy stared at Edith in fascination. She looked like a little pixie with crazy short hair and a pointy chin. My goodness, I've never heard anyone talk so much, Daisy thought.

Before she could answer, Edith was off again. ‘So, you know this is the washroom, sure enough, and you've seen your bed. I'll show you the dining room when the gong goes and tomorrow you'll be at school with the rest of us.'

Daisy opened her mouth to answer, but she wasn't quick enough.

‘'Course I should be there now, but Miss Fielding needs help with the babies sometimes, so she pulled me out of class, not that I mind. What with all that maths and writing they make us do, it's good to give the brain a rest.'

She gave Daisy a broad, warm smile and Daisy couldn't help but feel a bit better.

‘I'm Daisy,' she said. ‘I shouldn't be here at all – it's all a dreadful mistake.' She burst into shuddering sobs. Edith wrapped her in a warm hug.

‘Oh, it's all right, everyone cries when they first get here. It'll be grand in a few days. Well, maybe not grand, but good enough to get by.' She jumped up again and grabbed a brush from the shelf. ‘Now, let's get that hair seen to. You're lucky you weren't here last night! We had the nit check – you can probably still smell the Lysol they put on our heads, can you?'

Daisy nodded as Edith pulled hard at her tangled hair, talking all the while as she brushed it, parted it and plaited it into two neat braids.

‘There now, a spot of lunch and everything will feel brand new, won't it?'

Daisy nodded again slowly, but she couldn't imagine ever feeling better about this place.

‘Well, we've got time for a bit of a tour before lunch, how does that sound?' Edith grabbed Daisy's hand. ‘Me and you are in Cottage Four together,' she said, and led Daisy out the front door and into the grounds. ‘And over there is Three – that's the toddlers – then there's Babies in One, and Six and Five are the boys.'

Daisy stepped out into the sunshine and tried to take in all the new information. ‘It's all so big and grand,' she said.

‘Yeah, well, you probably won't think it's all that fancy soon, that's for sure,' Edith said. ‘Oh!' She pointed to a tall, narrow house behind them. ‘I forgot Cottage Two – that's Day Girls.'

‘What are Day Girls?' Daisy asked.

‘When you get to fourteen or fifteen, you don't go to school no more, you just get to be a full-time slave to the orphanage.' She turned to give Daisy a grimace. ‘Mostly the Day Girls run the kitchen and look after the little ones. They have to work awful hard, poor loves.

‘My little brother, Freddy, is in Toddlers.' Edith's voice grew quieter. ‘I don't see him much 'cos they keep the cottages separate, but sometimes I can play with him on the weekend for a bit.' She led Daisy into a wide courtyard. ‘See over there, that's the vegie garden – the Backyard Boys look after that. And there's the tool shed and the Infirmary – but don't bother getting sick, they don't look after you at all.'

Daisy's head was spinning. This can't be real! she thought. She tried squeezing her eyes closed and opening them again.

‘What's the matter with you?' Edith laughed. ‘Got a twitch or something?'

Daisy sighed. It was real all right. ‘No, just something in my eye,' she answered.

‘Ooh, look!' Edith suddenly exclaimed. ‘The toddlers are out.' She dashed off to a small playground, where a dozen little children wandered around or sat quietly on the bare ground. Edith put her hand through the wire that surrounded the yard. ‘Freddy, Freddy,' she called, and a small blond boy looked around.

‘Edie!' he cried, and toddled over to the wire and grabbed Edith's hand.

‘Oooh, you dribbly devil,' Edith laughed as he kissed her hand. ‘This is my little brother,' she said, turning back to Daisy. ‘He's only three. Isn't he a poppet?'

Daisy smiled at the little boy and he gave her a shy wave.

‘Our ma and pa died when Freddy was just a tiny baby,' Edith explained, and reached her other arm through the wire to rumple Freddy's hair. ‘They got the Consumption and died within a week of each other.'

Daisy wasn't sure what the Consumption was, but didn't like to ask. So Edith is a proper orphan, she realised. She really has no one else but this little chap. I'm so lucky – I have Dad and Flora, and Amelia, and Elsie and Mabel, too, not that I'll probably ever see them again, now that I'm stuck here, she thought gloomily.

She turned around to take in the large grounds and saw something that made her gasp. ‘Oh my goodness! A horse!' she cried, and raced toward a small paddock.

Edith ran behind her after kissing Freddy goodbye. ‘Oh yeah, I forgot to say, that's Hero. He pulls the plough and helps the Backyard Boys with garden chores.'

At the fence, Daisy held out her hand, talking gently to the brown Clydesdale. He wandered slowly over to her and nuzzled her fingers. Daisy hurriedly picked some fresh grass from her side of the fence and held it out. Her eyes pricked with tears as his warm breath tickled her hand. ‘Good boy, good boy,' she said.

He twitched his ears in pleasure and Daisy saw her face reflected in his deep brown eyes.

‘He likes you,' Edith said in surprise. ‘He's a cantankerous old devil with most people.'

Daisy breathed in the familiar horsey scent and rubbed her cheek along his nose. She missed Jimmy so much it made her heart hurt.

‘Hey, stop bothering the horse!' A short boy with wild curly hair came running up to them. ‘What are you doing?' he demanded.

‘Keep your knickers on, Harry,' Edith laughed. ‘Hero seems to like this one.'

Daisy took a step back from the horse and stared at the boy. ‘He's beautiful,' she said and smiled happily. ‘How old is he?'

Harry moved past her to talk to the horse. ‘You all right, fella?'

The horse whinnied quietly with pleasure and nuzzled into Harry's chest.

He turned to face Daisy. ‘He's eighteen, since you asked, and he doesn't like being bothered by a bunch of annoying little kids who think it's fun to poke him with sticks and pull his mane.'

‘Oh, no . . .  I'd never . . . ' Daisy stuttered.

‘Yeah, well, just make sure you don't.' Harry glared. ‘You shouldn't even be over here.'

‘Oh, eat my hat, Harry,' Edith said and poked her tongue out at him. ‘C'mon Daisy, it's almost lunchtime anyway and Dunham will be on the warpath if we get there late.' Edith tried to grab Daisy's arm and drag her toward Cottage Four, but Daisy shook her off.

She moved toward Hero again and held out her hand, whispering gently under her breath. The horse moved away from Harry and came to her, gently butting his head against her shoulder.