by Joy Rhoades
Kate put the letter back on the table, thinking. If she accepted Pearl into the family, she’d destroy what little respectability was left in the Amiens name. With a sickening feeling, it occurred to Kate that Jack could refuse to return to Amiens if she allowed Pearl to stay, that he might even divorce her. Her face burned to think of it. Whether because of Pearl or a divorce, Kate would be ostracised. There’d be no prospect of remarriage, and no children.
She heard the gate go again. Luca, there to work. She scribbled Regards, Kate, on the bottom of the letter and began to put it into the envelope, but changed her mind. Regards would send Jack off, even if nothing else did. She rubbed out Regards and wrote Love. Then she licked the envelope so fast she cut her tongue, sealed it and put it on the counter with the others for Mick Maguire on Saturday.
She got her gloves and went into the garden, bats in the sky above her. Luca was already at work, extending the bean trellis, his face serious, looping string from one upright to the next to take the beans as they pushed upwards.
She smiled at him, struggling to accept that he would be gone in days. ‘Where’s Vittorio? Cooking?’
‘Sì.’
Vittorio had taken to cooking for the place in the evenings, since her father’s death and it was a help, all round, now that Daisy was busy with Pearl. Luca delivered the meals, one to Daisy at the manager’s cottage and one to Kate.
Luca glanced across at the clothes line. Daisy was hanging out washing, hauling white sheets up onto the line, talking all the while to Pearl on her back.
‘What you do, Signora? They take them? The policeman?’ Luca knotted a piece of rope close to an upright and cut the ends short with his clippers.
‘Sooner or later.’ Kate got down on the kneeler and reached for the base of some Mayne’s curse. ‘Word’ll get out eventually.’
He unravelled more string from the roll at his feet. ‘Then you tell no,’ he said.
When Kate laughed, it came out a gulp. ‘It doesn’t work like that. It’s not my choice.’
He shrugged. She could not just keep Daisy and Pearl; the law favoured the Aboriginal Welfare Board. Even so, she felt responsible and she hated her father for that.
‘Una bambina minuscola,’ Luca said. He was looping the string around the upright and tying it off at intervals of six inches or so. ‘You help. Sì?’
Kate shook her head. It was impossible. ‘Pearl is a quarter-caste, so she will be put up for adoption. I’d have to adopt her myself. Even then the Board might not let Daisy stay here. Chances are they’d move her far away and she’d never see Pearl again.’
Luca said nothing, just tied off the string at the top of the next upright.
‘And I’ve never heard of anyone who did this,’ Kate said. Apart from the McGees, and no one would have anything to do with them.
‘No black bambini with the white papá?’ Luca laughed.
‘Not that.’ That was not what she meant, and he knew it.
‘Fight one war. Then more,’ Luca said.
‘You mean fight one battle at a time?’
‘Sì.’
She could not see a solution, and it made her sick to her stomach. She couldn’t think about it. ‘I need to ask you about something else,’ she said eventually.
‘Sì?’
She pulled at the roots of a weed that had embedded itself next to the base of a bean stalk. ‘We … We can sponsor you.’
‘Sponse?’
‘Sponsor. You and Vittorio, help you to come back to Australia after the war.’ It was madness – Jack would not agree. Still, she had to offer, to do the right thing. Her father would expect that of her. Doing the right thing, and her father; the two were at odds now, and she felt sad. ‘But if you wanted to come back, you could, you know.’ She rattled on, trying to read him.
He began to shake his head. ‘Grazie, Signora.’
She felt a weed stalk break off in her fingers.
‘Grazie.’ He gave her his sad half-smile. ‘What I want?’ He shrugged. ‘What I want, she is not for me. I must to Italia. For miso papá.’
She looked down at the weed in her hands, bright green, soon dead, cut from its root.
‘Hai capito, Signora?’
She couldn’t speak. Instead, she tried to savour the warmth of the late-spring sun on her back, with the soft sounds of Luca’s clipping just beyond her.
They saw it at the same time; the police car, a blip in the distance as it navigated the crossing. An Army staff car followed.
Daisy dropped the pegs from her hands and made for the arbour, the sheet abandoned in the dirt.
‘No, no, Daisy! Go inside!’ Kate yelled. Pearl started to cry, jostled on her mother’s back.
‘To the storeroom. Quick. Shut the door!’ Kate hoped the stores, the sacks of flour and grain, might muffle any crying. With Daisy and Pearl inside, Kate turned to watch the vehicles coming towards the homestead.
CHAPTER 46
A grazier’s son should be taught at the knee that a single well-trained dog can herd as many as eighty unwilling sheep. For therein lies a lesson in character-building as to what the boy might one day accomplish among his fellow men.
THE WOOLGROWER’S COMPANION, 1906
The vehicles approached the homestead slowly. Wingnut, it seemed, was in no hurry. Kate wondered at the Army car. The sound of the engines brought Ed into the garden from the shed.
Kate was surprised to see Grimes with the policeman. Wingnut came in through the gate, followed by Captain Rook and Oil, the corporal. Grimes went to the fence, lit pipe clenched in his teeth, he and Luca eyeing each other across the top rail.
The captain nodded a greeting at Kate, all business, and that put her on guard.
‘Afternoon, Mrs D.’ Wingnut inhaled; it was almost a sigh. He pulled a notebook from his pocket. Behind them, Grimes leaned his palms on the top rail of the fence like he owned the place.
‘Righty-ho. Mrs D, do you know a’ – Wingnut looked at his book – ‘Daisy Nunn, lately of the Longhope Domestic Training Home for Aboriginal Girls?’
‘She was our domestic.’
‘Daisy has been missing since’ – Wingnut looked at his notebook again – ‘the 14th of September. It has been alleged’ – the sergeant glanced at Grimes – ‘that you or others on Amiens are shelterin Daisy Nunn, and a half-caste baby, offspring of said Daisy Nunn.’ He stopped there. ‘Well, Mrs D?’
Kate was stone-faced. Wingnut glanced at Luca and Ed, as unreadable as Kate.
‘Look. We all know ya got Daisy and ya got the baby. You wanna save us a lotta trouble and get the girl and the tiddlie out here now, eh?’
Still Kate said nothing.
Wingnut frowned. ‘She wuz seen, Mrs D. I don’t wanna have to haul the girl out. You don’t want that neither, do yez?’
Kate shook her head.
‘Orright then. You get her, eh.’
Kate went into the house, her head down. Behind her, she could hear Grimes to Wingnut. ‘The girl’ll do a runner, I tell ya.’
Inside, Kate tapped on the storeroom door. ‘Daisy, Wingnut knows you’re here. We have to come out.’ They had become a ‘we’.
The door opened and Daisy stood there, her mouth trembling, Pearl’s hand pulling at her mother’s face, patting her fingers on her lips.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Kate said. Daisy tightened her grip on Pearl then, her back grew straighter, she held herself taller, and her face was set, impassive. Pearl sensed her mother’s fear and began to cry a little.
They went down the steps together, Kate and Daisy, Pearl whimpering in her mother’s arms.
Wingnut nodded unhappily. ‘Orright. Captain? Ya wanna do the honours with the Eye-tie?’
Captain Rook nodded. He looked around, his weathered face serious. ‘Luca Canali,’ he said, motioning for the POW.
Kate went still. Luca banged his gardening gloves hard on the top rail of the fence. Grimes had to step out of the dust, and he chomped down on his pipe, watching the PO
W with narrow eyes.
Luca came over to the captain and to Wingnut.
The captain spoke. ‘Luca Canali, it is alleged that you have fraternised —’
Pearl’s whimper turned to a cry, and Rook had to speak up.
‘— that you have fraternised, on one or more occasions, with an Aboriginal girl, Daisy Nunn —’
Kate gasped.
‘— which Daisy Nunn was not at that time and remains not of age.’
‘No, no.’ Luca shook his head in disbelief.
He stepped back but Oil blocked him, at the same time retrieving a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. ‘You’re not going anywhere, mate.’
Pearl cried louder.
‘Daisy,’ the captain said to the girl, speaking over the crying baby, ‘is this the man?’
It was as if Daisy chose not to hear. She stood, immobile, her face unreadable, Pearl screaming in her arms, Ed behind them.
‘It were im, orright,’ Grimes said from the fence.
Kate tried to speak but could not.
Oil got a handcuff onto Luca’s left wrist. As he tried with the other, the Italian shoved him back and held his clenched fist up, out of reach.
Oil yelled, ‘Jeez. Give it up or I’ll job ya.’
Kate tried again to speak, over Pearl’s cries and her own fear. ‘It’s not,’ she said, her voice caught in her throat.
Luca leaned in to Oil, his nose inches from the corporal’s own. ‘I tell nothing. Mate.’
‘Wingnut,’ Kate called, finding her voice.
‘Mrs Dowd,’ Wingnut said wearily. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘You must ask Daisy who fathered the child.’
‘Oh I must, must I? Orright, Mrs D. Orright. Daisy, who was it? This fella here?’ He poked Luca’s chest.
At first, it was hard for Kate to tell if Daisy’s head was moving but then she was sure. Daisy shook her head.
‘No. You see?’ Kate said to the sergeant.
‘That’s bull,’ Grimes said from the fence. ‘Mrs D’s carryin on with the Eye-tie herself.’
Kate gasped. ‘You should be ashamed, Keith Grimes.’
With that, Grimes came in the gate to Daisy, his pipe clenched in his mouth. The baby shrieked, sensing her mother’s terror. Grimes grabbed Daisy’s shoulder and shook her. ‘Tell the bloody truth. It were Canali, weren’t it? Eh? Weren’t it?’
Ed swung, landing a punch hard on Grimes’s jaw, and the older man went down, his pipe knocked from his mouth.
‘Jesus. You bloody idiots. Cut it out, you hear me?’ Wingnut yelled. But Ed aimed a boot at Grimes, down on all fours on the dead lawn, and Wingnut pulled him away by his shirt.
Grimes got up slowly, wiping blood from his mouth. ‘She’s a bloody liar, they all are, the whole flamin lot of em.’
‘You can’t take Daisy,’ Kate said to Wingnut.
The policeman turned back. He took his hat off and ran a hand through his short hair, his big ears free in the sunlight. ‘Look, Mrs D, let’s get this clear. Ya not bloody telling me what I can and can’t do. Orright?’
‘Ask her who fathered the child,’ Kate said. ‘Ask her. You have to.’
‘Orright. Orright. For Christ’s sake, orright. Who fathered the bloody kid?’ Wingnut yelled at Daisy.
The baby bellowed now, an open mouth of screams, and Daisy clutched Pearl to her chest, shaking with fear. Still she didn’t speak.
‘Please tell him, Daisy,’ Kate said over the baby’s yells. ‘Please.’
‘C’mon, Dais,’ Ed said to her. ‘Tell im.’
Daisy turned to Wingnut, her eyes down. ‘The boss,’ she said, her words almost lost in Pearl’s screams.
‘What?’ Wingnut said. ‘What you say, girl?’
‘The boss.’
‘She’s lyin,’ Wingnut said to Kate.
Kate shook her head, her heart heavy. Pearl wailed.
‘Shut the kid up, will ya!’ Wingnut yelled at Daisy. The girl pressed the baby into the crook of her neck, muffling the cries only a little.
Wingnut turned back to Kate. ‘She’s lyin,’ he said again.
Kate shook her head slowly. ‘It’s true. She’s my father’s child.’
The sergeant came over to Kate and took her by the arm. He dropped his voice. ‘Are ya bloody off ya rocker? Whatever your reasons are, eh, Mrs D?’
She knew what he meant. But it didn’t matter. For Kate thought she would weep, she was so ashamed of what her father had done. And now, she was ashamed of herself, not sure if she did this for Daisy, for Pearl or for Luca.
‘What about Jack? Does he know ya doing this?’ Wingnut asked.
Kate shook her head.
‘Jesus,’ the sergeant said, incredulous. He leaned in and dropped his voice still lower. ‘I’m going to ask you one more time and I want ya to wait and think very hard before ya reply. You understand me, Mrs D? I’m giving you a second chance, orright? You’ll bloody thank me for this one day.’
A gust blew through the garden, and Kate went cold.
‘Tell me – please – that you don’t know who did this to Daisy,’ Wingnut said, his eyes narrow.
A weariness came over Kate, so much so she realised she was watching a bank of clouds coming in from the west, not thinking at all. She swallowed and made herself speak. ‘My father, Ralph Stimson, fathered Daisy’s child. I’m claiming the child as a relative. They will not go to the Home.’
‘It’s your bloody funeral, Mrs D.’ Wingnut shook his head, disappointed in her. Then he turned and yelled, ‘Oil. The girl stays. Let the bastard Eye-tie go too.’
‘You’re off the hook, mate,’ Oil said, releasing the handcuff in an easy movement. Luca stepped back, rubbing his wrist.
Wingnut exchanged a look with the captain. ‘Righty-bloody-ho,’ he said as he marched off, still shaking his head, towards the police vehicle, Grimes beside him, berating him as they walked, gesturing, his dead pipe in his hand.
‘Mrs Dowd.’ Captain Rook sighed deeply, shaking his head. ‘A reminder that the POWs are off on the 15th. Five days away.’ He headed for the staff car. ‘Good luck, Mrs Dowd.’ He looked almost sad.
She knew what he meant. The town would never forgive her.
CHAPTER 47
The prudent woolgrower ensures well before shearing that all gateways, yards and the woolshed itself are cleared of wire, twine and other miscellany.
THE WOOLGROWER’S COMPANION, 1906
That night, after Daisy had taken Pearl to their cottage and Kate had finished another Vittorio-prepared meal, she was surprised by a soft tap on the back door. It was Ed, his hat in his hands, worry across his face. Behind him, the long shadows of late afternoon streaked the dead lawn.
‘You all right?’ she asked.
‘Maguire’s bin out. Brung me a telegram.’
Kate was surprised. Maguire must have come in the back way as she hadn’t seen the truck. But she suspected he was embarrassed about having to serve the bank notices.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Me dad’s had an accident on the bullock wagon.’
‘Is he all right?’
‘Well, he’s still alive, eh, but he lost a leg. We bloody jinxed on the leg front, eh?’
‘What happened?’
‘Bloody dray rolled back. They was settlin in a new lead bullock.’
‘You must go.’
‘I reckon. I can get the mail truck to Glen Innes tonight. Then I’ll hitch if there’s no train. Should get home by late tomorrow mebbe.’
‘You go. You must.’
‘Sorry, Mrs D. It’s a bad time with shearin comin up. But I talked t’Johnno and Spinks, eh. They’ll go ahead, gettin ready. They’ll stick to the back paddocks, check the fences and the gates for gaps and wire. I’ll tell Luca and Vittorio to do the ones between here and the dam, and get Vittorio to walk the woolshed yards, pick up any wire, throw any big rocks, ya know. The usual. Rocks’ll find their way into the tracks from stock and even the truck, eh.’
/> She knew. ‘Don’t worry, Ed.’
‘Can you tell Dais, eh? That I hadda go?’
Ed limped back across the lawn.
The next day was full. With Ed gone, all other hands – Kate, Luca, Vittorio, Johnno and Spinks – worked to prepare the yards and the woolshed for the coming shearing.
The real heat of summer was a way off yet. Still, it was hot and dusty work in the yards. The five of them formed a line, in what Kate’s father would have called an emu parade, moving forwards, eyes on the ground, looking for bits of fencing wire, or bolts or even rocks that might injure a sheep, or tempt it to eat what it should not.
Kate liked the work, and Luca was never far away. He always managed to be near her, or near-ish enough, for a chat now and then. When she finished for the day, she gave him a smile, conscious that in four days, he’d be gone.
‘I come to the garden, Signora. Say good night to her.’
Kate smiled. Luca loved his garden, and she loved to work with him in it. She would miss him very much.
Daisy was standing on the homestead verandah, Pearl in her arms, when Kate came in the gate. Kate felt the unaccustomed jolt of pleasure to see them there, and to see Daisy content. She was a good mum.
‘Miss Meg’s ere, eh, Missus,’ Daisy said, as she left for the night.
Inside, Kate greeted a downcast Meg.
‘I saw Daisy. Is it true? About …?’ Meg asked, avoiding Kate’s eyes.
Kate let that lie. ‘You want to sit? Cup of tea?’
Meg shook her head. ‘I can only stay a minute.’
‘Do your parents know you’re here?’
Meg shook her head again, her curls moving. She had tears in her eyes and she suddenly looked very young. ‘They say I can’t come over now, because of …’ She shrugged.
Kate turned away, furious. The Yorkes were as close to family as she had. ‘You don’t have to do everything they say.’
Meg looked at her in astonishment. ‘Yes I do. For now, anyhow. But I wanted to tell you to your face, you know?’ she said. ‘It’ll blow over, one way or another.’
