by Ellie Dean
We stopped along the way to explore deserted, palm-fringed beaches, some of which ran for mile upon empty mile, and swam in a sea that was every bit as blue as Pete had promised. We drove through rainforests and cane fields, and saw mountains soaring out of vast ochre plains. We explored dirt roads which led to isolated settlements that were no more than a few houses, a pub and a church, and watched the kangaroos bounce away at the sound of our engines .
I heard the laughing kookaburra on my second day here, and the gorgeous piping of the magpies, and saw a huge wedge-tailed eagle hovering above us in search of prey. There are termite mounds as big as houses, and enormous black bats which hang from the trees near the waterholes – yuck and double yuck. They stink!
I’ve also seen my first snake – a horrid brown and orange thing Pete said was a deadly taipan. It was basking in the middle of the road and as Pete thinks the only good snake is a dead one, he ran over it, poor thing. He warned me all the snakes here are lethal, and so are a lot of the spiders and skinks, so I’ll have to watch where I walk .
But none of that can take away the sheer joy of being here. The scenery is breathtaking, the weather absolutely glorious, and the sheer size of the place is quite overwhelming. I do wish you were here to see it all .
We stopped off in Ravenshoe to look at the place his dad thought we should buy, and fell in love with it immediately. The house is what they call a Queenslander, propped on stilts and made of wood. It has a deep wrap-round veranda, three bedrooms, a kitchen, bathroom and sitting room. It needs a lot of work doing to it, but with almost a hundred acres of fields and pandan forest surrounding it and several large outbuildings, it’s utterly perfect. Our offer was accepted, so now we’re eager to get the paperwork done and start making it our own .
We explored the whole area, which is between the outback and the sea, and although the town itself is very small, the people are friendly and welcoming, especially as Peter is a returning serviceman. We rode out to visit Pete’s family on their farm – or station as they call it here – and I couldn’t believe how vast it is, and how utterly peaceful beneath that big sky. Pete’s parents are really welcoming, but I’ve yet to meet his sisters and their families as they live hundreds of miles away on the outer edge of the property, and are busy with the shearing .
There are Aborigines working on the station who kept the place going throughout the war when so many of the men went to enlist, and Pete spent a long time with them talking about his experiences. I hadn’t realised that some younger Aborigines had enlisted, and one of them actually became an ace fighter pilot and was much decorated .
Pete took me camping under the stars one night, and told me some of the local Dream Time stories which simply explain the mysteries of the world’s creation. Looking up at the Milky Way, it felt as if I could reach up and touch the stars. I have never seen anything quite so awe-inspiring, and it makes you realise how very insignificant we all are in the vast scheme of things .
I know I’ve rattled on a bit, but I’ve been so longing to tell you how excited and happy we are to be here. We’ll be starting work on the house soon, and hoping to be in by Christmas, but the Wet has arrived, so it might take a bit longer. We’re lovely and snug in a caravan at the moment because the house isn’t really habitable, but the sight of the parrots hanging upside down in the trees to clean their feathers in the rain makes me laugh. In fact, I can’t stop smiling, I’m so very happy .
I’ve written to Dad and tried to keep it less enthusiastic, because I know he must be feeling deserted, but I knew you’d appreciate knowing how we are and what we’re feeling. I hope all is well with you, and that you have a wonderful Christmas. Pete and I have sent a big box of goodies over, which we hope will arrive in time to help the celebrations go with a swing .
Much love, hugs and kisses ,
Rita
‘Well, there’s no doubt someone’s fallen on their feet,’ breathed Cordelia. ‘My goodness, she sounds as bright as a lark and not missing us at all.’
‘It’s such a relief to know she’s taken to it. I just hope her father won’t get dejected if his letter is anything like this one,’ said Peggy.
‘Jack’s mature enough to be thankful that it’s all turned out well and his girl isn’t pining for home. It would be awful if she was feeling the same way as poor Ruby.’
Cordelia eased Daisy’s head to a more comfortable spot against her shoulder and eyed the other letters on the table. ‘What does Ruby have to say, Peggy?’
Peggy opened Ruby’s letter to discover it wasn’t very long at all. Scanning down the single page, she realised little had changed for poor Ruby.
‘She’s written in haste because the weather is closing in and she wanted to catch the post,’ she said. ‘She thanks me for the baby clothes I sent, and Mike’s mother, Claudine, is teaching her to knit and sew in preparation for the baby’s arrival in March.’
She scanned the rest of the short letter, her spirits plummeting. ‘Mike and his father have now gone up to the logging camp, and probably won’t be back until after the baby is born – which means Ruby will spend her first married Christmas with just Claudine.’
‘Oh, dear,’ murmured Cordelia. ‘That poor girl. I do feel for her.’
Peggy returned to the letter and read the last of it out to her.
The snow is starting to fall and although it looks as pretty as a Christmas card, it means getting into town for me doctor’s appointments is really dangerous – even with heavy chains on the truck tyres. Claudine’s stockpiled food and emergency supplies to see us through until the thaw, and she’s promised me that if this baby comes early, she’ll know what to do .
I ain’t happy about it, Aunt Peggy. When I were married to Ray, I lost two babies cos of his beatings, and I don’t know what sort of damage he might have done to me insides. I wish I could move into the hotel in town, but Claudine won’t hear of it, so I’m stuck here .
Peggy turned over the page. ‘She apologises for moaning, bless her,’ she said. ‘And wishes she could be with us for Christmas. She’ll write again when the snow starts to thaw and the mail can be delivered again.’
Peggy folded the letter and gave a deep sigh. ‘I’m really finding it hard to forgive Mike in all this. Whatever was he thinking of to take her there and then leave her with his mother for months on end?’
‘I’ll be very surprised if that marriage lasts,’ replied Cordelia sadly. ‘Not many women would put up with such behaviour, and our Ruby isn’t cut out for that sort of life, especially now she’s expecting.’
‘I didn’t know she’d had two miscarriages,’ murmured Peggy. ‘No wonder the poor girl’s so frantic to have a proper doctor to hand.’
‘It’s all very distressing,’ said Cordelia. ‘She’ll probably hate the place even more if something goes wrong.’
Peggy nodded. ‘And I wouldn’t blame her, Cordy.’ She set the sad little letter aside and lit a cigarette. ‘I so wish she’d found the same happiness as Rita, for I know she loves Mike and was utterly determined to make a success of things out there after her disastrous marriage to Raymond.’
‘Well, there’s nothing either of us can do about it, unfortunately,’ said Cordelia. ‘As my mother would have said, “She’s made her bed, and now she must lie in it.”’ She grimaced as Daisy’s weight shifted on her arthritic knees. ‘Can you take her, dear? Only she’s heavy on my legs.’
Peggy lifted Daisy from Cordelia’s lap and kissed her forehead in the hope she’d wake. Too much sleep at this time of the day usually brought on grizzling moodiness, and with Bob due to arrive within the hour she didn’t want the distraction.
However, Daisy stirred and woke in a good mood, and once she’d had a cup of her orange juice and a digestive biscuit, she played happily at the table with her soft toys while Peggy quickly scanned Jim’s letter in case it contained anything which might upset Cordelia.
Darling Peggy ,
A great deal has happened since I last
wrote to you – a lot of it very sad – but some very pleasant and quite surprising. Jeremy turned up in Singapore and we drove Sybil and the others up to the rubber plantation for Philip’s burial and to place a memorial stone for Jock. I don’t know if either girl has written to tell you, but both men had been slave labour on the notorious Burma railway, and it’s not known when Jock died, but a witness I spoke to helped bury him and left a marker .
Philip survived less than a few hours after arriving at the hospital in Singapore and Sarah was with him at the end. He never came round enough to recognise her, and from what I heard from Sybil and Jane, his death was a merciful end to his terrible suffering. Poor Sarah didn’t know how to feel, but I think she mourned the memory of the man she’d once loved, rather than the stranger who’d returned. Coming so soon after losing Jock, it was a very difficult time for them all .
It was almost a month after Philip’s death when we made that sad and rather poignant journey to the rubber plantation in Malaya. The house was still standing, but for Sybil and her girls it was too full of memories, so they didn’t stay long. On our return to Singapore Sarah discovered that Delaney had come looking for her, and to cut a very long story short, Jumbo and I are to be the best men at the double wedding .
‘Oh, my goodness,’ Peggy squeaked, startling Cordelia. ‘Delaney and Jeremy went to Singapore, and there’s to be a double wedding.’
‘They’re getting married so soon?’ breathed a shocked Cordelia.
Peggy nodded. ‘It seems so, Cordy. But I agree it does seem a bit hasty – although waiting wouldn’t really have changed anything.’
‘Maybe not. But it would have been the decent thing,’ huffed Cordelia.
Peggy read down the page and quickly turned it over, absolutely thrilled that Delaney had clearly gone straight to Singapore after dropping in here – luckily, Cordelia had been out that morning, so she had no need to know of the part Peggy had played in getting those two together.
‘They decided to hold the ceremony two weeks before Christmas because Sybil had already been in Singapore for three months and wanted to get back to little James in Australia.’ Peggy sighed. ‘Oh, that means it’s all done and dusted, and it’s too late to send a telegram congratulating them. I do wish they’d written to warn me.’
‘I think the whole thing’s disgraceful,’ grumbled Cordelia. ‘Sybil should be ashamed of herself for allowing it so soon after those men died.’ She folded her arms. ‘As for Sarah carrying on like that … I would never have believed it of her.’
‘You know as well as I that Delaney was Sarah’s true love,’ said Peggy quietly. ‘And as Jim has rightly pointed out, Philip had become a stranger to her, and it was the memory of how he’d once been that she was really mourning. So of course when Delaney turned up, she had to follow her heart.’
‘It’s all romantic tosh if you ask me,’ retorted Cordelia huffily. ‘Are they coming back here? Because if they are, I shall tell them straight that I do not approve.’
‘Oh, Cordy,’ sighed Peggy. ‘Just be thankful that everything turned out all right in the end, and try to be happy for them.’
Cordelia scowled. ‘My poor nephew must be turning in his grave at his daughters’ lack of respect,’ she muttered.
Peggy wasn’t at all sure that Jock would be doing any such thing, but as Cordelia seemed determined to disapprove, she said nothing and quickly read the last of the letter.
‘Well, you’ll be glad to hear they aren’t coming back to Cliffehaven,’ she said when she’d finished. ‘They left for Australia after the wedding and will stay there over Christmas. Jeremy and Jane will then go to Washington, and Sarah and Delaney will travel to Texas so she can meet his family, but there are no plans as to what they will do next.’
‘So they’ll both be in America,’ muttered Cordelia. ‘I doubt we’ll see either of them again – but what about the things they left behind? What are we supposed to do with them?’
‘There’s nothing of Jane’s, and only a few bits and pieces of Sarah’s. I’ll pack them up and put them in the attic should she ever want them.’ She folded Jim’s letter and slipped it into her apron pocket. ‘It would be nice if the girls can get to see Rita while they’re in Australia,’ she murmured. ‘Didn’t Sarah say her mother lived near Cairns?’
‘I believe she did,’ said Cordelia, her mind clearly on something else. ‘Does Jim give any details of how both men died?’ she asked. ‘Only the telegrams they sent were very brief and not at all informative.’
Peggy carefully relayed what Jim had written, and then perched on the arm of the chair to comfort her as she wept once more for the two men she’d never known but for whom she’d prayed would beat the odds and return safely.
Bob Reilly donned his cap and grabbed the two heavy holdalls as the train ground to a stop at Cliffehaven Halt, sighing great clouds of steam and smoke. He climbed out, his chin tucked into his coat and the peak of his cap almost touching his nose to shield him from the rain which was coming from the sea as straight and hard as stair-rods. He could barely see where he was going, for although it was only three in the afternoon, it was already dark, and the weak light of the two platform lamps was shrouded by the gloom.
‘Jim! Jim, is that really you?’
Bob looked up to find the stationmaster beaming back at him. ‘Hello, Uncle Stan,’ he replied. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s me, Bob.’
Stan grabbed his arm and pulled him into the lee of the remains of the old waiting room where a dim light filtered down from a lantern. ‘Well, as I live and breathe,’ he gasped. ‘So it is. My goodness, boy, you’re the very image of your father.’
Bob grinned. ‘So I’ve been told. How are you, Uncle Stan? You’re looking well, but I see the old place took a bit of a battering.’
‘Aye, it did that,’ he said on a sigh. ‘And by the New Year, all of this will be gone.’ He went on to tell him about his enforced retirement. ‘When your father does come home, he’ll have to get off at Willingham and catch the bus.’
‘Yes, I was told it was closing when I bought my return ticket,’ said Bob. ‘But now you’ll have lots of time to work on your allotment, Uncle Stan, and I’m sure you’ll be glad not to have to get up for the milk train every morning.’
‘I’ve been doing it for years, so will probably still be up with the lark anyway,’ he replied gloomily.
Bob could feel the unpleasant iciness of the rain dripping down the back of his collar. ‘I’d better get home. Mum’s expecting me, and I promised Charlie I’d go and watch some of his match.’
Stan shook his head. ‘I don’t know how those rugby boys do it. Out in all weathers, they are.’ He grinned at Bob. ‘But young Charlie seems to thrive on it.’
Bob wished him a happy Christmas, promised to pop by during his stay for a longer chat, and headed down the High Street. He’d always liked Stan, for as a small boy, he had sneaked up here for a rock bun and a cup of tea to listen to the old man’s stories, and wave the flag when the trains left the station. He also had fond memories of Cliffehaven, for he’d been almost thirteen when he’d left, but now he was shocked to see how dilapidated and run-down it looked on this miserable day.
He paused to watch the workmen battling the wind to decorate the large Christmas tree in the centre of town, then continued past the huge bomb site which had once been Woolworths and the Odeon Cinema, thinking again how lucky his father had been to escape uninjured from the blast. Grandad Ron had made much of the fact in his letter that he’d been left without a stitch of clothing on, and he’d had to carry him home on his back.
Grinning at the image that evoked, Bob glanced at the heaving grey sea, then turned into Camden Road and out of the wind. There was the fire station and the factory where his mother had worked, and the funny little café opposite the hospital where Grandma Cordelia sometimes used to treat him and Charlie to afternoon tea. But where there had once been an enormous block of flats was a gaping hole.
H
e walked on to discover that the houses at the end of the street had been blasted to smithereens, although the Anchor had clearly survived, and a new school had been built in the footprint of the old one. He crossed the road to stop and stare at the ruins at the end of Beach View cul-de-sac, which he knew had come about as a result of a gas explosion, but as he splashed his way through the muddy puddles of the twitten, he saw the remains of the house behind Beach View and was forcibly reminded of how close his mother and little sister had come to being wiped out completely.
He’d had little idea of what his mother had been through, for she’d kept her letters light-hearted, but seeing the devastation all around made him feel guilty for the easy time they’d all had down in Somerset.
Bob took a firmer grip of the heavy bags and pushed his way through the gate, to see that the shed, the Anderson shelter and the outside lav had gone, and in their place was a sodden vegetable plot which he suspected had yielded very little this autumn. The hens were huddled inside their nesting boxes, gloomily squawking at the muddy mess in their run. He remembered those chickens being given to them by a bunch of Australian soldiers, but that was years ago, so the old birds were probably past laying, and good only for the pot.
Eager to be out of the rain, he pushed open the back door and came to an abrupt halt. His mother and Charlie had written to him about the changes she was making to the house, but he hadn’t expected this.
Aware that he was dripping rainwater and would leave muddy footprints on the pristine lino, he quickly eased off his boots onto the doormat, and bundled his coat over his arm. As no one seemed to have heard his arrival, he left the bags and coat on the concrete steps and had a nose about.
