10.
Booralla Road September 1941.
Marjorie
heard the truck grinding up the hill and pushed the kettle onto the hot spot.
She
had placed two cups on the table and was on the side verandah when Violet
called from the back door. ‘Yoo-hoo! Anybody home?’
Marjorie
entered from the side door with cake and milk fetched from the safe. ‘Of course
I’m home. How are you?’
Violet
slumped into a chair and rubbed her face then cradled her chin in her hands.
‘The time has come, Sister Marjorie, for the workers to come to the aid of the
party.’ She looked up, face grim. ‘The old boy gave me my marching orders, so
I’ve come to get the shed ready.’
Marjorie
placed her burden on the table then proceeded to make tea. ‘What did you do to
upset the old goat?’
Violet
laughed and Marjorie sensed laughter had been a rare pleasure for Violet of
late. ‘What did he say?’
Violet
sat back in her chair as Marjorie placed the tea pot on the table between them
and sat. She took the pot handle and held it. ‘He said I was a Jezebel and that
he would not have me bringing Satan’s ways into his house!’ she slammed her
fist onto the table.
‘Oh
dear! and what did you say to that?’
‘He
had already had a talk with Bill, who made himself scarce, but he had warned me
that his father was upset with me.’
‘What
did you do, for goodness sake?’
Violet
replaced the tea pot on the table and stood. ‘What do you see?’
Marjorie
took the teapot and poured for both of them, then looked her over. Violet sat.
‘I
know what it was. It was those overalls.’ She left the room for a few seconds
and returned with a photo album. She riffled through a few pages then turned
one toward Violet. ‘See that?’
‘You,
my girl, are wearing overalls!’ she looked up at Marjorie, smiling broadly.
‘And that’s the old curmudgeon’s back yard.’ She laughed. ‘I bet you copped it
for that!’
‘He
said nothing to me, but really gave Staff a dressing down about allowing me to offend
the Lord.’
‘What
did Staff say?’
‘He
said he told the old boy that he had no idea what I was wearing and that it was
Clissie who took the snap.’
‘What
happened then?’
‘Staff
suggested to me that it might be a good idea not to wear overalls at his father’s
place again, so I haven’t.’
Violet
moved the album to face her and began to turn over pages, commenting on family
members at weddings and at the beach. She indicated a photo of Marjorie in a
bathing suit. ‘Just look at those legs!’ She leaned closer. ‘I’m just checking
to see if the legs are in one piece like a mermaid.’ They both laughed together
and drank more tea.
11.
Booralla Road January 1941.
‘I
reckon we’ll lose these chooks. Just look at them.’
Stafford
and Hovee had at last completed the fowl run in time to release two hundred
pullets from their cramped space in the brooder house only to see them, beaks
open, wings spread out, sitting on the ground under what mottled shade there
was under a desiccated wattle tree.
Hovee’s
venture had started with a truck load of second hand wire mesh, posts cut from
trees on the property and a lot of hard work. Unable to afford a flock on the point-of-lay,
they had borrowed an old kerosene-heated brooder from “Coromandel” and bought
two hundred and fifty day-old chickens. This was Hovee’s project, but Stafford
had suspended work on the house to help build two fowl houses, with roosts and
laying boxes with a thick layer of shell grit as a soft bed for eggs and a
source of calcium for the hens.
They
had collected the grit from Thirroul beach.
The
long trip south was worth the drive. Marjorie’s children were joined by Beryl
and Frank Ray’s Robert, running towards the towering breakers then being chased
up the sand by foamy wavelets, while Marjorie and Beryl watched and the men gathered
grit with a wide shovel, carefully skimming off shell that was revealed as each
breaker retreated down the sand.
In
the afternoon, Frank Ray came to join them on the beach to watch the children.
‘You’d better be careful with Eleanor, her skin.’
Marjorie
stood and walked to the water, calling the children to her. Inspection of
Eleanor revealed red skin and a promise of severe burning. She wrapped her in a
towel and herded them all back to the group.
‘We’d
better get a move on,’ she said, collecting towels as the men stood.
Frank
helped his brothers lift bags of grit as Beryl took her picnic basket and
headed off towards their house a block away. ‘I’ll get some dinner on!’ she
called, pushing Robert ahead of her while the men carried the grit to the truck.
Stafford
was driving on the way home along the Princes Highway, with Violet and Marjorie
in the front, Violet nursing little Billy and Marjorie against the door holding
Eleanor who was asleep, her face flushed with sunburn and exhaustion. Hovee was
relegated to the table top, sitting on the grit bags with the just Fordie to
hold on to. He too was soon asleep, and Bill let him slip down to be curled up
on the folded tarp. He pulled a corner over the little boy to keep the wind
off.
Inside
the cab, noise from the motor rendered normal speech almost impossible, so
conversation such as it was, became a series of shouts punctuated by long
silences.
They
had negotiated Bulli Pass with the radiator still below boiling point, not possible
in the heat of the day, and with noise now seeming almost gone after the
fifteen minute climb, the old Dodge growling its way up the mountain, mostly in first
gear, Stafford shifted to top gear and turned to the women. ‘I wonder how the
chooks are.’
Marjorie,
by the window, almost asleep herself, looked away to watch black vegetation
whipping by and left the conversation to Violet.
‘I
don’t know. This has been the hottest summer I can remember.’ She looked to
Marjorie then to Stafford. ‘I don’t want Bill to know I told you, but he wanted
the chook farm so he could be in a protected industry.’
Stafford’s
face seemed shocked as he darted her a glance. His full attention was required
on the road and he seemed to go back to it. But his frown stayed put as he
shifted down to second for a hill. ‘I didn’t think Bill was frightened of
anything,’ he said as he kept his eyes on the road. ‘In fact I thought he would
join up when Walter did. I was surprised when he didn’t.’
‘He
doesn’t want to leave you.’ Marjory threw that into the conversation then
turned back to her window.
Violet
stared at the back of her head for a moment then turned back to Stafford.
‘Staff, do you really think he didn’t join up so he could stay home with me?’
‘If
you’re asking me, I reckon he’s not keen to go for the same reasons I’m not and
that’s because we’d be fighting for the Poms and that bloodthirsty blighter,
Churchill. If we were fighting for Australia we’d both be in it already.’
Marjory
had turned back to face them at that. She was staring at him, her face showing her
concern. ‘I hope you have other reasons to stay out of it, like three children
and me.’
Stafford
let out a long sigh. ‘I reckon I’d go in if I was called up, but I can’t
imagine that will happen unless we are invaded here in Australia.’
Marjorie
looked outside as if she might see enemy soldiers on the side of the road, then
looked back. ‘Who’d want to invade us? There’s nothing here!’
Violet
moved to be more comfortable moving her plump three year old niece to the other
knee. She brushed a whisk of hair from the little girl’s red and swollen face
and kissed her ginger hair. ‘You are going to be a very sore little girl
tomorrow.’
The
truck was now back in top gear and humming along, nearing the Heathcote Road
turn-off.
Both
women were tired but their eyes joined his, staring ahead into the inadequately
lit gloom.
‘I
think you’re right, Madge. I think he is afraid of being away from me, God
knows why!’
Stafford
shot her a glance of concern. Although he would not reprimand another man’s
wife, he was dismayed that she should blaspheme in their presence. His lips
pressed together, he let the truck run faster down the hill to the Woronora
than he otherwise would. Marjorie was aware he was angry and leant across
Violet to touch his arm. He immediately braked and shifted down a gear to hold
the truck back as it negotiated curves and the narrow bridge before starting
the long climb to the plateau and the Heathcote mad mile.
Violet
looked from one to the other but they were both staring ahead, apparently not
interested in conversation with her.
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