Short and Sweet (26 page)

A few youngsters cheered and were shushed by their parents.

‘We also need to build two sets of latrines today, one for men, one for women. We want to keep the place clean, don’t we? We’ll put hessian fences round them for privacy, but we can’t take time for a roof just now. Anyone have any experience of digging latrines and putting up tents?’

That made Bill and the other men chuckle. Most of them were ex-soldiers.

‘Just a little experience,’ one man said. ‘Four years’ worth during the war.’

‘There you are then, they sent me some real experts.’

Ted’s joking had lifted the mood, but as people worked under his direction, Maggie saw how they kept glancing at the surrounding forest, which dwarfed everything. Could they really clear that? It’d be hard going.

By nightfall the Spencers were in their own tent, and for once the children didn’t protest about being sent to bed as soon as it grew dark. Stretcher beds had been supplied and set up on the bare earth. For bedding, they each had a heavy bush rug known as a ‘bluey’ and were using rolled towels as pillows.

All the basic items supplied were to be paid for gradually, Ted said, including the horse and cart, the six cows and necessary equipment like cream separators, which would all be sent later, after they’d cleared the land and built cow and dairy sheds.

So much work lay ahead, Maggie thought as she snuggled down on her narrow canvas bed. Well, you could only take one day at a time.

It was surprisingly cold at night, considering how warm the day had been. She could hear animal noises outside, frogs croaking in a nearby stream, which Ted called ‘the creek’, and all sorts of rustling sounds and calls, though she couldn’t have said what sort of animals were making them.

‘Goodnight,’ she said into the darkness, but got no answer, even though she could tell Bill wasn’t asleep by the way he was breathing.

Her last thought was that the following morning they were to draw lots for the blocks of land and then start building the temporary huts out of corrugated iron. She hoped theirs would be a pretty block, hoped they’d be happy there, hoped the children would thrive in Australia – and that her Bill would continue to get better.

It wouldn’t be her fault if they failed.

Part Two

M
aggie was woken early by birds calling and twittering nearby. It took her a few moments to remember they were in Australia now. Excitement ran through her. Today the foreman would give each settler family in the group the land the government had assigned for setting up dairy farms.

In the dim light inside the tent she could see her sleeping husband and children on their narrow stretcher beds. Bill’s face was hidden beneath his forearm, Peter lay on his back, one hand dangling over the edge, and Jenny was on her side, a smile on her face.

Maggie went to use the women’s latrine, nodding to their foreman as she passed. Ted was already tending the communal fire, which had a huge blackened kettle hanging over the flames. She was dying for a cup of tea.

Once dressed, she helped the other women prepare breakfast, dividing up the remaining bread carefully and spreading jam thinly on it.

‘They’ll be delivering more bread from the shop today,’ Ted said cheerfully, ‘and for the first week. After that you ladies must learn to make your own.’

When they’d cleared up, everyone assembled in a circle round him without needing to be told, families standing together, ready to draw lots for the blocks of land.

After they’d done that, the foreman walked them up and down the track, showing each family which land belonged to them. It took all morning.

Maggie was delighted to see a couple of tall karri trees on their block as they turned off the track, so huge she couldn’t even put her arms round their smooth grey trunks.

‘They’re a couple of hundred years old at least,’ Ted said.

‘They’ll look pretty guarding the gates,’ Maggie said.

Ted shook his head. ‘You can’t put the entrance under them. They’re not called widowmakers for nothing. They drop branches without warning and the bigger ones weigh a ton.’

‘This is a farm not a park,’ Bill said. ‘I’m clearing the lot.’

She was fed up of him making all the decisions. ‘Not these two beauties, you aren’t. It’ll look horrible without some trees and anyway, the cows will need shade in hot weather.’

Ted clapped Bill on the shoulder. ‘She’s right, mate. Anyway, trees like these are a bugger to knock down. You have to dynamite the stumps to get rid of them and that costs extra.’ He winked at Maggie.

She changed the subject quickly. ‘Where shall we put the hut?’

‘Has to be close to the next block, because you’ll be sharing. Only big families get both rooms to themselves.’

In the evening they drew lots again, this time for whose hut would be built first. The Spencers came last of all, which was a big disappointment.

The next day, two men brought a milking cow in the back of a truck, provided by the authorities to help feed the group. They led it carefully down a ramp, gave Ted some food for it and left.

‘You women will have to feed and milk her,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you how. Now, who wants to take charge of it?’

There was dead silence.

He laughed. ‘She doesn’t bite, you know. Mrs Spencer, how about giving it a go?’

Maggie swallowed hard. ‘Oh. Well, all right, then.’

‘Come and meet Dolly.’ He slapped the cow on the rump. ‘The main thing is to keep everything to do with milking clean.’

‘Of course.’ As if she wouldn’t do that automatically!

When they’d finished milking, he dipped a clean cup into the bucket of foaming, creamy liquid and solemnly handed it to Maggie. ‘You first. You’ve earned it. You made a good fist of that milking, for a beginner.’

She drank the whole cupful. ‘It’s lovely.’

‘Now, you’ll need to milk her morning and night, then share the milk out between the families every day. Make sure she always has water and don’t let her roam too far. Oh, and clean up after her as well.’ He raised his voice to make sure the other women heard him. ‘The cow pats make good fertilizer and they’ll be your reward for doing this job, Mrs Spencer. Get your kids to pile them up on your block and cover them with branches to keep the flies down.’

Maggie was left alone with her new charge. Dolly had lovely eyes and seemed placid enough. Timidly she patted her.

Bill joined her, but made no attempt to touch Dolly. ‘She’s bigger than I expected, but I suppose the manure will come in useful.’

‘Everything’s bigger in Australia.’

For the next few days everyone worked from dawn to dusk, even the older children doing their share, mostly fetching and carrying for the men.

One or two of the women did the minimum they could get away with, leaving someone else to do the dirty chores, so Maggie and her new friend, Elsie, took it upon themselves to organize a roster sharing out all the jobs. Wood had to be fetched for the communal fire, water lugged in buckets from the creek and the group’s food prepared from giant tins of corned beef or fruit or jam. And the women decided to do the washing together as well, in big tin baths.

‘We need an outside table to prepare the food on,’ Elsie told the foreman. He gave her a mock salute and beckoned to two men. They dug holes and stood the ends of some logs in the ground, then nailed rough planks across the top.

‘There you are, ladies. Your kitchen table. I’ll give you some sandpaper to smooth it down.’

One of the other women asked, ‘What do we do about bread? Will the shop keep sending more out if we pay for it?’

He laughed, not unkindly. ‘You’ll need to make your own in a camp oven. I’ll show you how tomorrow, but it’ll only be damper bread, made with bicarbonate of soda. Can’t make proper bread till we get our wood stoves.’

The man must have the patience of a saint, because ‘ask the foreman’ rang out all day. How Ted kept smiling, Maggie didn’t know, but she reckoned they were lucky to have him. He always had a solution of some sort, even if it wasn’t what they were used to.

Ted gave them a quick demonstration of making damper. After the dough was finished he put it in the heavy iron camp oven and pushed it into the ground at the edge of the fire. After sprinkling hot embers on the lid he left it to cook.

Helped by the bigger children, the men worked from daylight to dusk on the huts because everyone was eager to have a proper roof over their heads. The women and smaller children walked out to them at noon with their dinners.

Bill greeted Maggie with a smile, seeming happier now that he had something to do. Peter was working with his father, obviously proud to be with the men.

When the first tin shack was finished, the women inspected it in silence – two rooms each about ten foot square and a bare earth floor. Open gables at each end let in the light and doors were sheets of corrugated iron with wire loops serving as hinges.

Maggie tried to hide her dismay. Her auntie’s garden shed had been better built than this!

‘I don’t call this a
house
,’ Bill muttered.

‘Well at least we’ll have a room to ourselves and a proper roof for the wet season.’ She glanced sideways. His moods were up and down since they’d got here. What had he expected? Luxury? He’d known they had to clear the land and set up the farms from scratch. She sighed. He was a dreamer, not a practical man. Why had she thought he’d change?

It rained the next day and Jenny ran her fingers down the condensation on the tent wall, making patterns. This made it leak and Bill slapped her hard.

Maggie pushed between them, grabbing his raised arm. ‘How is the child to know about living in tents? She meant no harm.’

Jenny ran outside into the rain, sobbing.

He glared at Maggie. ‘Don’t you dare contradict me in front of the children.’

‘Don’t you dare hit them, then. I won’t have it.’

She was shaken, had thought the sudden rages he’d brought back from the war had stopped. But she wasn’t going to let him take out his feelings on their children.

Everyone cheered when the stoves arrived. Maggie, who enjoyed cooking, set herself to learn about using theirs. She’d never made her own bread, because it could be bought more easily at the bread shop, but she’d helped her mother do it when she was a child. Only how did they get yeast out here? Did the shop have some in stock? If so, someone would have to go into town for it, plus some more flour, because they were running low.

Ted heard them discussing the problem. ‘Why don’t a couple of you walk over to the next group? They’ll show you how to make potato yeast. I’ll go into town and bring back whatever’s needed. I’ll call in at the next group on the way and tell them to expect you tomorrow.’

‘Potato yeast? I’ve never heard of that.’

‘Well, you’re about to find out what it is. Don’t worry. It makes good bread.’

‘I’d have enjoyed a walk into town,’ Maggie said wistfully.

‘You couldn’t carry the flour back, though. We usually buy it in one hundred and fifty pound bags.’

The women gaped at him.

He grinned. ‘That’s how it’s sold. And sugar comes in seventy-two pound bags, tinned jam by the case. You’ve got to keep a good supply of basic stores. You can’t be nipping to the shop all the time. It’s three miles away and your husband will need to use the horse and cart, which will be arriving soon, by the way.’

Maggie and Betty were chosen to go for a lesson on bread making. As they walked, Betty complained non-stop about the primitive conditions, which were nothing like they’d been led to expect. Maggie bit her tongue. No use complaining. You had to make the best of things.

At the farm an older woman called Jean came out to greet them.

‘I’ve waited to show you how to make the yeast, but it’s put me behind in my chores, so let’s get on with it. I’ve usually got my bread in the oven by now. Twice a week I bake.’

She showed them how to pour the water from strained potatoes on to dried hop leaves. Once cool, this was strained again and three dessertspoons each of flour and sugar added to the liquid, together with a starter saved from the previous batch of yeast.

When the bread was cooked, Jean let it cool a little then cut them a thick slice each, spreading it with jam.

Maggie closed her eyes in bliss. ‘This is wonderful bread.’

‘I’ve made you a loaf each to take back with you and I’ve put some starter mixture into a jam jar. Should be enough for you all.’

‘Thank you so much. Come across and visit us sometime,’ Maggie said. ‘I’ve always got a cup of tea for a friend.’

‘I’ll do that,’ Jean said. ‘Good luck.’

The two women started to walk back, carrying their loaves and the precious starter.

At an uncleared stretch of forest Betty stopped to look up, seeming near tears. ‘I don’t like these big trees, looming over you.’

Maggie stopped too, ignoring the complaints. She could hear birdsong in the forest, several different birds by the sound of it. One was making a crooning noise, another was going ‘peep-peep’ and there was something which sounded like a crow’s cawing. She must ask Ted what the birds were. She enjoyed a few moments listening to the chorus, standing in the dappled light under the high green canopy.

‘It gives me the shivers. I don’t feel
safe
.’

‘It’s different here, that’s all,’ Maggie said at last. ‘But I like it much better than grey streets and terraced houses.’ She hadn’t expected that.

At last all the huts were finished and the Spencers moved in. Even Bill was cheerful that day and the children ran round shouting and calling.

Ted gathered everyone together the next day. ‘Time to put in your orders for the necessities of life before the winter.’ He produced some catalogues. ‘I’d advise at least one hurricane lamp to light the way outdoors at night.’ He went on to advise other purchases, too.

Maggie and Bill went over their list again and again, trying to keep it to the bare minimum. A tin bathtub and wash basin were essential, a couple of buckets, of course, matches, candles, lamps, but they had a lot of other things in their crate waiting in Fremantle to be delivered.

When she saw the prices, Maggie expected Bill to praise her for bringing so many of their smaller household implements, because otherwise they’d have had a much longer list to buy, but he didn’t say a word. In fact, he never praised her, though even Ted said she was coping well ‘for a Pommie’.