A Better Place

by Tania Roberts

  Murdo and Sarah bid their farewell and give thanks for the privilege of being invited. They enjoy a gentle stroll back along the road, the evening sun at their backs. Pohutukawas at the side of the road are in full bloom, the tips of their crimson stamen appear to have been dipped in gold and twinkle like tinsel on a Christmas tree. The pohutukawas are flanked by slender rewarewa trees, standing tall with equally brilliant red racemes.

  “Oh, Murdo look at the trees, they look like Christmas trees decorated in red baubles.”

  “Aye, I miss me family but I prefer the warmth and colour of a New Zealand Christmas to the cold white Christmas of Scotland.”

  They return to their quiet little apartment to contemplate the importance of enjoying life and family each day. Murdo has no desire for material possessions but he can see that money allows him to provide for his family and enjoy what life has to offer. On wages, if he wants to earn more he must work longer hours. This is all very well but the longer he works the less he gets to see Sarah and with a baby on the way, time will become more precious. He knows he will never be a big business owner like his employer Thomas Burt, but a small business, that’s not beyond his reach. Not a general store though, he has missed baking since he has been working for the Burts. Mentally he plots his course – first get another job back at a bakery – a small one where he can learn everything about running a business. Then somehow get a better paying job, perhaps a manager’s position, so that he can save towards buying his own bakery.

  Murdo

  Murdo

  Lexie and Sarah

  Chapter Twelve

  South Island 1911-1913

  It is a grey day outside and raindrops are pattering against the window-pane as Murdo and Sarah enjoy a quiet Sunday afternoon in front of the sitting room fire. Mildred Alexina Sara, or Lexie as she is known, their two-year-old daughter, is tucked up in bed for her regular afternoon nap. Sarah works away at a piece of embroidery while Murdo catches up on the week’s events reading Saturday’s edition of Wellington’s newspaper, ‘The Evening Post.’ Every now and again he glances at Sarah over the top of the paper. He worries about her; she appears pale and listless. She has not fully recovered from the recent loss of their second child, a son who seemed perfect but never made it into this world alive. Murdo feels the pain of a wee life ended before it began but a father’s grief is different from a mother’s. The woman carries the life within her, bonding in a way that the father cannot comprehend. She has fainted several times recently and struggles with Lexie’s boundless supply of energy – normal for a healthy two-year-old but frequently too much for Sarah to cope with.

  Murdo has been pondering their future for some time now. The job at the bakery he has been working at since leaving the Burt’s General Store has honed his baking skills and he now feels he is ready to make the next step to a manager’s position. They haven’t been able to save enough for him to buy or establish his own bakery so a manager’s position where he will be responsible for all the finances as well is the natural progression. Several weeks ago he saw and responded to an advertisement in the paper. The Runanga Co-operative have expanded their store to include a bakery and a drapery and advertised for a bakery manager. The letter confirming he is the successful applicant arrived this week but he has not yet told Sarah the good news.

  He folds the paper, lays it across his lap, gives a small cough to gain Sarah’s attention, and makes his announcement.

  “Sarah, me dear. I have been appointed manager of the bakery department of the Runanga Co-operative Store.”

  “Oh, that’s nice Murdo. When do ye start?” questions Sarah tying off her embroidery cotton.

  “We need to be there by the first of June. It’s only six weeks away so we will have to start packing soon.”

  “Packing. Why do we need to pack Murdo?” asks Sarah, alarm creeping into her voice. “Where is this Runanga?”

  “In the South Island.”

  “Oh, down by Robert. We will be able to visit with my brother.”

  “Nae, not quite by Robert. The government has established state mines at Runanga and Dunollie on the west coast of the South Island and the towns are growing to support the miners. It’s the place to be.”

  “Oh.”

  “But I’m sure we’ll be able to visit Robert some time.” Murdo tries to muster some excitement in Sarah who doesn’t appear to share his enthusiasm for the move.

  Sarah knows that it is her duty to follow her husband and she should be happy for his advancement to management but she feels weary at the thought of the packing and travelling.

  “Ye’d best get some crates so that we can pack up the furniture over the next few weeks,” suggests Sarah thinking she’d rather do small jobs progressively than be rushed in the last week.

  “Nae, ye dinnae need to take much, just ye clothes, crockery and linen and a few provisions. We can sell everything we willnae need and that’ll give us the money to rebuy when we get there. It’ll be cheaper that way.”

  “And just how do we get there, Murdo?”

  “The Co-operative have arranged for transport on a coastal freighter that will take us from Wellington to Greymouth. Then there is a new rail line from Greymouth to Runanga and Dunollie. Just a short journey really. Ye’ll see, it’ll be a better place for us.”

  Sarah smiles but Murdo can see it is not a smile that goes all the way to her lovely green eyes.

  .....

  The winter rains continue to fall steadily as a small tugboat guides the freighter through the fog to its berth at the port of Greymouth on the shores of the Grey River. The Campbell family are safely tucked away below in their cabin and are yet to see what the South Island has to offer them.

  It is midday when they finally disembark but there is no sun high in the sky. A thick fog shrouds the township, blending with the smoke from the townsfolk’s fires to cloak everything with a grey blanket. Murdo and Sarah look at one another and silently wonder whether the town’s name is derived from its climate rather than any more prestigious source.

  Murdo leaves Sarah and Lexie sheltering under the verandah of the harbour master’s office while he goes off to arrange for a horse and cart to take them and their small load of possessions to the railway station. There are coal-wagons, some empty, some full, being shunted backwards and forwards along the railway tracks at the port but passengers must board at the station for the trip up the line.

  Sarah is grateful for her and Lexie’s heavy woollen capes, which deflect most of the raindrops and keep out the winter chill but Lexie’s bonnet refuses to stay atop her head as the little girl’s attention is drawn this way and that. Her fine blonde hair is drenched and plasters itself to her bonnie round face. With small chubby fingers, she pushes the hair from her eyes. This trip is a huge adventure for her and she does not want to miss anything.

  When a load of empty wagons arrives from the port and is hitched to the only passenger carriage, the Campbell’s tickets are checked and they board the wagon to take their seats. Sarah relents in her efforts to teach Lexie some decorum and allows her to stand on the wooden seat and watch out the window. She holds her around her waist, fearing she will fall from the pane-free window.

  The fog lifts only slightly as they leave Greymouth and head inland. The track follows a valley between high tree-covered ridges. There are numerous bridges to cross and from her vantage point at the window Lexie can see the muddy brown waters of the flooded rivers rushing by, taking broken branches and debris prisoner on the way. Where Lexie has excitement, Sarah despairs at how long it must have been raining for the waters to be running so high.

  Coal Creek is the first settlement they reach. Several passengers disembark. Sarah’s mood is buoyed when she hears their laughter and comments about being happy to be home. Perhaps she should try to keep an open mind and not let her first impressions colour her judgement. She looks across at Murdo but cannot fathom his thoughts from the look of concentration on his face.

  Murd
o’s wish that the weather would improve so that their new home can make a good first impression for his family, is not granted. As the train pushes its way further northward and emerges from the bush to approach Runanga, the rain is still teeming down, falling in vertical sheets of water to drench the muddy earth. Bare-limbed trees stand like ghostly sentinels among the haphazard array of wooden buildings.

  The train pulls up at the Runanga station. Murdo thinks he can see tears welling up in Sarah’s eyes as she stands to gather her belongings to disembark.

  “Nae, not here me dear,” Murdo gently takes Sarah’s hand in his. “We will live in Dunollie for a while. There is no house available for us here yet.”

  “But I thought the job was in Runanga.”

  “Aye it is. But Dunollie is just up the valley a bit. I’ll travel back and forth each day.”

  Sarah sits back down. She wonders whether she has the strength to deal with this. She is coming to a town that appears to be in the middle of nowhere, where she knows no-one, where the facilities appear very primitive and it rains like the worst day of an Irish winter. And worst of all, she will have to cope on her own, as her husband will be working in another town six days a week.

  The train is soon on its way, branching off to the right and cutting its way through a small wood of dense bush. The clickity clack noise does not have its usual calming influence but it is only another five minutes up the line before they reach Dunollie.

  Colin Angel, the manager of the Co-operative is awaiting their arrival and although having never met, it is easy to assume who they are. Most other families who arrive at this isolated destination are dressed in miners’ clothes; patched and worn serviceable woollen garments, not smartly tailored attire. They have faces and hands that reflect the harshness of the miner’s struggle for a living, not pale and delicate features protected from the natural elements by a life spent indoors. Mr Angel hopes he has not made a wrong choice in appointing Mr Campbell, not doubting his abilities as a baker but wondering at the resilience of his wife and child.

  “Good Evening Mr Campbell, Mrs Campbell.” Mr Angel extends his large bony hand to Murdo. “Welcome to Dunollie.”

  “Thank ye sir,” replies Murdo as he shakes his new employer’s hand.

  “Shall we gather your cases? I shall escort you to your new home so we can escape the weather.”

  Sarah thinks that is the best suggestion she has heard in a long while.

  The pot-holed streets of Dunollie are but gravel tracks. Sarah has to lift her skirts and cape to stop them dragging in the puddles. It is impossible to do this and look after Lexie at the same time. In an excitable rush Lexie loses her footing and lands bottom-first into a deep brown puddle.

  “Mama,” she howls and remains sitting in the puddle. “Me wet.”

  Murdo picks his little girl from the puddle and places her back on her feet on a flat area of ground. Lexie rushes to her mother’s skirts for comfort and in the process plasters her dirty handprints all over Sarah’s cape. Sarah, knowing her battle to stay clean is lost, picks Lexie up. The little lass immediately stops crying, puts her thumb in her mouth and snuggles into her mother’s shoulder while the adults continue a short way into the settlement.

  The fire is lit in the small two-room cottage that is to be their home and it gives off the only light in the sparsely furnished room until Mr Angel lights a candle. Although it is only early evening, Dunollie has no street lighting to cast a glow through the single sash window in the side wall of the cottage, and the grey stormy sky makes it appear later than it actually is. Earlier Mr Angel had bought a kettle from the store and placed it over the fire while he came to meet the train and it is now boiling away merrily. He does not stay for a cuppa though. He advises Murdo he has the day off tomorrow to settle in and then gives some brief instructions to find the store the following morning. The new bakery has not yet been commissioned and Mr Angel is anxious to get the facilities up and running, mostly to satisfy the Co-operative’s committee whom he has encouraged to make the substantial investment of funds, but also to ensure fresh bread is available to supplement the miners’ meagre diets. Mr Angel bids farewell and leaves to catch the last train back down the line to Runanga. It is the only means to travel between the two settlements as no road has yet been formed.

  Sarah sits in one of two simple wooden chairs, Lexie in her lap, still sucking her thumb for comfort. Sarah is exhausted, physically and emotionally. She closes her eyes and wonders why on earth her husband has brought her here.

  “It’ll all look better by the light of day, me dear,” offers Murdo attempting to cheer his wife a little. “Best we retire early and start afresh tomorrow.”

  There is only one bed in the adjacent room so Lexie must sleep with her parents – not that she would have let go of her mother for too long anyway; just long enough for linen to be found amongst their belongings, the bed made and nightgowns donned. By the time Murdo finds the cups and saucers to make a cuppa, Sarah and Lexie are sound asleep. He sits quietly in front of the fire, gazing into its flames, nervous with anticipation of his new employment and anxious for Sarah to find happiness in what he is sure will be a better place for all of them.

  .....

  Fortunately the next day dawns brighter. The sun’s attempts to shine are hampered by the clouds being scuttled across the sky by a fresh southerly wind but at least the rain is held at bay. Sarah discovers that Mr Angel was kind enough to leave a basket of supplies on the wooden bench-top, which serves as a kitchen. There is a loaf of bread, not fresh like Murdo used to bring home each night, but one that must have been delivered from Greymouth several days earlier, a small slab of butter, several eggs and a couple of thin slices of bacon. Murdo discovers a stack of wood at the rear of the cottage and banks up the fire so Sarah can cook the bacon and eggs in a skillet over the fire.

  There is no running water in the cottage. Rainwater is collected in an iron tank from the roof. After yesterday’s downpour, the tank is overflowing and there is no need to turn the small tap at its base. Sarah fills the kettle from the rivulets trailing down the side before they hit the muddy ground.

  Sarah can see the sense in Murdo’s suggestion that they bring only the bare essentials. In a short time they have completed unpacking and it is apparent that the small cottage cannot accommodate anything else. When Lexie sees the familiar possessions she begins to relax and finally stops sucking her thumb.

  When everything is tidied away inside, the Campbells decide to venture outside and explore the small settlement. MacDougal Avenue and Herd Street branch off at right angles from the railway tracks, which run through the middle of Dunollie. On the right hand side of MacDougal Avenue is an assortment of double and single-storey wooden buildings housing a general store, boarding house, butcher’s shop and the town hall. To the left of the road is a swampy drain where blackened stumps remain as evidence of the recent clearing of the forests. Sarah acknowledges and takes heart from knowing that the settlement is in its infancy and facilities can only improve.

  Murdo is eager to see the bakery and decides they should board the train, which is hissing away at the landing, and travel down to Runanga. The Runanga Co-operative Store stands proudly on the corner of McGowan and Carroll Streets, which are a short walk from the station. High on the left sidewall of the building the new signage reads ‘BAKERY’. Murdo smiles with pride at the knowledge that he will be the first baker to operate from this store. They enter the double front doors and are greeted by Mr Angel who introduces them to the two other staff, Miss Watson who manages the drapery and Mr O’Byrne who handles the boot sales and makes deliveries with the store’s horse and cart.

  Both Murdo and Sarah return to Dunollie later in the day full of hope that this will be a better place.

  .....

  And so it is. Many positive things happen in a short space of time. Murdo quickly masters the coal-fired ovens and word of his fresh, crunchy, crusted white loaves of bread spreads quickly among the m
iners’ wives. Demand is increased beyond Mr Angel’s expectations. From the wealthier families in Runanga, Murdo receives orders for buns, specialty loaves and birthday cakes. Murdo is a fast learner and, it soon becomes apparent, an astute businessman. He sources ingredients economically and minimises waste to produce profits that soon recoup the Co-operative’s investment. He learns all the names of his customers and sometimes goes beyond the call of duty to deliver bread to families unable to make it to the store because of illness.

  .....

  Within six months a state-built house is completed for them to rent and they move from Dunollie to Runanga. Their house is the first in a row of four at the top end of McGowan Street. It is identical to its three adjacent neighbours, containing two bedrooms, a parlour and separate kitchen branching off either side of a central passage. There is still no running water and the privy is a long-drop in a little tin shed at the back of the section, but Runanga has a doctor, library, school and several churches as well as a range of shops including a hairdresser, millinery and drapery. There are more women and children and Sarah feels it is much more civilised.

  It still rains though – all day, every day in July, but this time Sarah is grateful. She is feeling queasy in the mornings. Believing herself to be pregnant again, she is content to remain indoors. Sarah wants to protect this baby and ensure Lexie’s new little brother or sister will be born healthy. She is reminded of her last pregnancy and doesn’t think she could cope with the agony of another miscarriage. She doesn’t have much energy for anything.

  .....

  Early in August, Murdo collects a letter from the newly-opened Post Office on his way home for dinner. It is addressed to Sarah and the return address shows it to be from her brother. Murdo hopes it is good news; he does not want anything to upset Sarah in her condition.