The Last Mile Home

by Di Morrissey

  After the excitement of his arrival, Abby lifted their baby from the cradle and placed him in Barney’s arms. Barney held his tiny son awkwardly, as if he could shatter like crystal eggs, and stared at him in wonderment.

  ‘He’s a bit on the small side, but Doctor Malone says he’s not really premature, just a bit early. He was ready to arrive, so he did,’ smiled Abby, hugging Barney’s arm affectionately.

  ‘What are we going to call him, Ab?’ asked Barney, his eyes full of love for her.

  ‘I thought Richie, after Mr Richards.’

  Barney stared into the blue eyes of his son. ‘Sounds good to me.’

  THE MCBRIDES’ LITTLE HOUSE OVERFLOWED WITH people and laughter, Christmas preparations and wedding plans. Abby, Barney and baby Richie were ensconced in the sleepout, the girls in constant attendance.

  Barney, his face alight with love and wonder, watched Abby sitting in the rocker breastfeeding the baby, but gradually a concerned and sad expression took its place.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking, Barn,’ said Abby. ‘It’s your parents, isn’t it?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Do you think we should go and see them? Let them see Richie. It might change your father’s mind,’ suggested Abby.

  ‘No! I know my father. Until he accepts you and the decision I’ve made, I’m not going to see him.’

  ‘I feel so sad about it all, that you are giving up your family.’

  Barney leaned over and touched her hands holding their baby. ‘You’re my family now, Abby. You and Richie. We have our own life now.’ He sighed. ‘Give it time.’

  At Amba, Enid approached Phillip and quietly asked, ‘Phillip, can we see the child? Barney’s child.’

  ‘Absolutely not! Until he comes to his senses, he is not welcome here.’

  ‘But this is his home, Phillip. At least allow me to go to them.’

  ‘Don’t even consider it, Enid. It’s out of the question. He chose to defy us, he must live with the consequences.’

  Enid turned away; both men were being stubborn and everyone was suffering. She went slowly to her bedroom and lay on her bed, her energy and the small hope she had cherished, draining from her. The dogs jumped on the bed and lay by her feet but she ignored them as she closed her eyes and wondered what was to become of her son and her grandchild.

  Mr Richards became a regular visitor again now he had his old ute back from being repaired. Barney thanked him profusely for being around when Abby needed help.

  ‘You’re Richie’s fairy godfather,’ declared Abby. And so it was to Mr Richards they turned for advice on who should marry them.

  ‘You understand the problem, seeing as we’re both different religions,’ said Abby. ‘We’ve decided we want to be married in the open air — Mum and Dad have never heard of such an idea, of course!’

  ‘Do you know the common, down by the river?’ asked Barney. ‘There’s a small community hall there and it’s very pretty. It gets used for all sorts of local events. Abby has chosen Christmas Eve, she thought it was the best gift we could give each other.’

  Mr Richards smiled at the couple, so much in love, so contented with their baby, so looking forward to their new life. ‘Leave it with me, I know just the bloke,’ he smiled.

  The children were so excited even Brian decided the new little baby hadn’t usurped his place.

  Everyone was busy making gifts in secret, making Christmas decorations and helping with the food preparations. Gwen baked fruitcakes, puddings and biscuits, and promised Brian there’d be a rainbow cake. She knitted Richie his own Christmas stocking to hang out for Santa. Late into the night she and Abby took turns at the old treadle Singer sewing machine, making the wedding dress and new dresses for Colleen and Shirley. No one could talk of anything but that this would be a Christmas to remember.

  ‘We must be mad — a wedding, christening and a big family Christmas,’ Gwen sighed to Bob as she fell into bed.

  ‘Go on, you’re loving every minute of it,’ he teased. ‘But don’t overdo it, luv.’

  ‘I’ll miss them when they’ve gone north,’ Gwen sighed. ‘I don’t mind the work. I just want everything to be nice for them.’

  Two days before the big event, just when Barney was getting nervous about who would perform the ceremony, Kevin rushed inside to announce someone was coming up the track.

  The visitor arrived on an old Norton motorcycle with a sidecar. As he drew up, shutting off the engine, the group gathered in front of the house saw he was a member of the Bush Brotherhood. He was a chubby man in his thirties, dressed in the simple brown hassock of the men dedicated to spreading God’s word through the outback. He had a round ruddy face and short sandy hair.

  ‘He looks like the jolly monk in the brandy ads,’ whispered Bob.

  ‘I’m Brother John, Mr Richards sent me,’ the man said, shaking Bob’s hand. ‘I’m heading north, visiting my flock.’

  Over sandwiches and tea, the ebullient Brother John had everyone laughing with his stories of evangelising in remote areas where men and women could go months without seeing another soul.

  ‘How did you get to know Mr Richards?’ asked Gwen.

  ‘Strange bloke, Mr Richards. Keeps popping up all over the place, and usually when he’s needed.’ Brother John paused to chuckle. ‘ He jokes with me that he has the power to become invisible and actually travels on the pillion seat of the Norton.’ They all laughed and Brother John slapped his thigh, laughing loudest of all.

  There was a short spell when everyone became serious and discussed details of the wedding, giving Brother John a briefing on the circumstances. Nothing was held back and he listened with compassion and warmth. When the arrangements were completed for the wedding and the baby’s baptism, the churchman smiled. ‘Well, this is going to be quite an ecumenical event, isn’t it? Catholic, Presbyterian and Church of England.’ His smile got even larger. ‘The Methodists will be furious at missing out.’ And again he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

  As the sun set on the hot Christmas Eve, the small wedding party assembled on the common. It was a flat pocket of lush green grass with a fringe of weeping willows and casuarinas lining the creek bank, which curved around the river. On a slight rise above the flood line sat the small white-painted and red-roofed wooden community hall.

  Gwen held Richie in the crocheted shawl that all the McBride children had worn for their baptisms. Mrs Anderson and Jim stood behind her and Mrs Anderson peered over Gwen’s shoulder to coo at the sleeping baby. Sarah and Keith Pemberton joined them. Shannon had unexpectedly taken off on another trip, so wasn’t there to sour the day’s joy.

  A distant toot announced the arrival of the bridal party in Betsy, which Kevin had polished and tied Christmas bush to the bonnet. Brother John took his place and signalled Barney to stand beside him. Bob McBride opened the door for Colleen and Shirley, who stepped proudly out in their white muslin dresses sashed with yellow ribbons, carrying posies of small daisies.

  Abby followed and took her father’s arm. ‘Righto, Ab,’ whispered Bob, ‘shoulders back, right foot forward, here we go.’

  Barney’s eyes misted as he looked at Abby, dressed in a loose cream ankle-length dress. She wore a small hat with a short veil covering her face and carried a bouquet of cream and yellow rosebuds.

  They stood together, a small cluster of people beneath the canopy of rose-gold light as if the sun itself was joining in the celebration. Brother John began by welcoming everyone and remarking on the beautiful setting. ‘A s some of you may know, we of the Bush Brotherhood spend a lot of time in the bush and worshipping outdoors is not unusual for us, for in a beautiful setting like this it is just as easy, perhaps easier, to acknowledge the gift and presence of God as it is in a church or a cathedral. Just as He is everywhere, so too is His gift of love, and it is in recognition of the love between Abigail and Barnard that we are gathered together here today. Love is what starts a family, love is what holds a family together and give
s it strength. Love is the essence of living and, without it, without sharing it, we are nothing.’ He paused, smiled broadly and clapped his hands together. ‘Right, enough of the preaching, let’s get down to the business of the day.’

  The simple words of the ceremony were punctuated by the calls of birds working the willows and the creek for their evening meal. But neither Abby nor Barney heard their singing — the solemn yet joyous tone of the Bush Brother made them aware only of the words of the ceremony.

  When he pronounced them man and wife, they turned to each other with love in their eyes, and kissed. It was only then they heard the birds singing and they both looked to the trees and smiled.

  ‘I’ll now baptise the baby,’ announced Brother John. When it was over, Bob shouted, ‘Three cheers for the bride and groom’, and as the cheers echoed up and down the creek, everyone moved forward to embrace and wish them well.

  Mrs Anderson took Barney aside and gave him a small parcel. ‘Your mother sends her love and this . . . it’s your silver christening cup. It’s for Richie. And she thought you might want to give this to Abby.’ She handed over a small blue box.

  Barney put it in his pocket and bit his lip. He knew it was the gift that Enid had always promised his bride.

  ‘Your mother wanted to come very much. But she won’t go against your father’s wishes. He’ll come round in time,’ said Mrs Anderson comfortingly. ‘ You get along and enjoy your life. I’m sure it’s going to be tough going up there and starting out with so little, but well, that’s how most of us have to do it, Barney.’

  ‘I don’t care, so long as I have Abby and the baby with me, that’s all that matters.’

  It was a merry Christmas Eve at the McBrides’ with a splendid dinner of cold meats, salad and Christmas pudding eaten in the garden lit by hurricane lamps. The Pembertons and the Andersons left early and Mr Richards put his swag in the ute.

  Before leaving he had a quiet yarn to Abby and Barney. ‘Well, we’re always off on journeys it seems. I just want to wish you well. Who knows, I might drop in one day.’

  ‘Oh, I wish you would,’ enthused Abby. ‘You’ve become very special to us, Mr Richards, and we owe you so much.’

  ‘You owe me nothing, lass,’ he said. ‘The reward for an old fella like me is to see the love you both have for each other. It’s a precious gift, and some people spend a lifetime searching and never find it. A thinking bloke I knew once wrote that love is the only reality. What I reckon he was saying is that love is the only real thing that matters in life when all is said and done. So I reckon you have a lot going for you.’

  He reached out his hand to Barney and Abby kissed him on the cheek and hugged him.

  ‘God bless you, Mr Richards,’ she said softly.

  He said his farewells to the children, kissed his fingers and put them lightly on the forehead of a sleeping Richie and was walked to the battered old utility by the rest of the family. There were more handshakes, a kiss from Gwen and with an exchange of wishes for a Merry Christmas, he was on his way.

  When the table was cleared, the dishes done and the children in bed, Barney and Abby went for a walk.

  ‘There’s our star,’ said Abby looking up to the Southern Cross. ‘We’ll still be able to see it up north. It’ll always watch over us.’

  ‘That’s a nice feeling,’ said Barney. ‘Happy?’

  ‘I’m so happy it frightens me. Oh Barney, I love you so much. It has been a wonderful day, so wonderful.’

  Barney swept his wife tightly into his arms and kissed her.

  Christmas morning was happy bedlam. The children were up at dawn emptying Christmas stockings and running from bedroom to bedroom in excitement, jumping on beds, hugging and kissing everyone.

  Bob, wearing a knitted Christmas stocking as a nightcap and still in his pyjamas, delivered mugs of tea to everyone in bed. Then it was roll call for the present opening.

  Bob had cut a large branch of sweet-smelling eucalypt and anchored it in a kerosene tin filled with dirt. The children had decorated the tree with homemade paperchains, cut-out stars and tinsel. Piled around the kero tin, now wrapped in Christmas paper, were the presents.

  Bob sat back and grinned at his happy family. There were no lavish gifts, but practical clothes, useful items, novelties and books, and everyone had made something for another member of the family.

  ‘Kevin, you’re a brilliant French knitter, I love these colours,’ said Gwen, holding up the multicoloured pot holder.

  ‘And look what the girls have made for Richie,’ she said, showing Bob the tiny beribboned blue knitted booties.

  ‘Won’t be able to play football in those,’ commented Bob. ‘Now gather round, everyone. Time for the Christmas singalong.’

  Barney and Abby exchanged a grin and Abby whispered, ‘There’s no escape, it’s a family tradition.’

  They all drew into a circle and, led by Bob, sang their favourite Christmas carols. Colleen and Shirley pulled Richie’s cradle into the centre and, sitting on either side of the placid baby, the two new aunties chorused sweetly, ‘Away in a manger . . .’

  Later, when everyone had stowed their bounty and the Christmas wrappings had been picked up, some being carefully smoothed for reuse, they all gathered for a big breakfast.

  Gwen and Abby kept up a running supply of steak and bacon and eggs, porridge and homemade mulberry jam on toast until everyone was satisfied.

  After breakfast when Abby was sitting on the verandah rocking Richie, Barney came to her with the little blue box Mrs Anderson had given him at the wedding.

  ‘Ab, this is something very special. It’s something more than a Christmas gift. It’s not from me,’ he said mysteriously.

  Abby took the box and carefully undid the little bow that had been tied so perfectly. She opened it and took out the tiny tissue-wrapped gift. Slowly she unfolded the paper to reveal a beautiful ruby and diamond ring.

  She gasped. ‘Barney, it’s magnificent.’ She looked up and saw sadness in his eyes.

  ‘Mum sent it over.’ He choked a little as he said it.

  Abby reached quickly for his hand. ‘ Oh Barney, darling.’

  ‘It belonged to my grandmother, a sort of family heirloom, I guess.’ He paused. ‘ You know what she’s saying, Abby. She wants us to be part of the family. All of us.’

  Abby slipped the ring over her finger alongside the simple gold wedding band, and held her hand out for Barney to admire. ‘I f only your father . . .’ said Abby sadly, suddenly finding it unnecessary to complete the sentence for she knew that Barney was thinking exactly the same thing.

  That evening at Amba, Enid put her sewing in her basket, picked up the dogs and walked slowly down the hallway to the library.

  ‘Good night, Phillip. Merry Christmas to you.’

  Phillip turned the tiny key in the door of the leadlight bookcase and looked at his wife standing in the doorway.

  ‘Goodnight, my dear. Christmas wishes to you too. I’m going to read.’

  Enid nodded and went to her room. In the darkness she stood at the window and, looking towards Anglesea, wished her son happiness.

  In the library Phillip sat in the leather armchair bathed in the light of the single lamp standing by his chair. He did not see the gold lettering on the leather jacket of the unopened book, but sat with his eyes closed, feeling very lonely and very sad.

  They tucked Richie’s toy train from Mr Richards in with the cases and the bundles in the back seat of the car. Eventually they ran out of things to fuss with — the car was ready, the engine and tyres checked yet again, they’d double checked the house for things left behind — and so now they had to say goodbye.

  Gwen hugged Richie to her and Bob lent down and kissed his head.

  The twins clung to Abby, unable to stop their tears.

  ‘Stop blubbering,’ said Kevin, who was having trouble keeping back tears himself. He shook Barney’s hand and hugged Abby then turned away to take Brian’s hand.

  Barn
ey stretched out his hand to Bob, who took it then gave him a solid hug. ‘Look after my girl,’ he muttered. Barney nodded and kissed Gwen’s damp cheek and lifted Richie from her arms so she could embrace Abby.

  Mother and daughter clung together for a moment. ‘I love you, Mum. I hope I’ll be as a good a mum as you.’

  ‘I’ll miss you so much, Ab . . . but be happy.’

  Barney gently eased Abby and the baby into the car as Bob picked up Brian and put an arm about Gwen.

  The calls and good wishes faded away as the car headed down the track and they all stood in silence, just little Brian waving a hand and saying almost to himself, ‘Bye, bye . . .’

  Two days later, Gwen had smoko ready for Bob as he came in from the paddock. He washed his hands at the sink as she poured the hot tea into a mug. Hearing a vehicle pull into the yard, Gwen put down the teapot and looked out of the door.

  ‘Bob, you’d better come quick.’ Her voice was strained and frightened and Bob hurried to her side as the police sergeant got slowly out of the car and took off his hat.

  They listened as their life fell apart around them.

  There were no words that could possibly make things different, so the sergeant simply stated the facts. There’d been an accident the previous night. At a level crossing. The train had hit the car and killed Barney and Abby outright. The baby had been thrown clear and was under observation in hospital, but he seemed to be all right.

  The sergeant cleared his throat. ‘Everything was smashed up pretty bad, but they said the baby escaped with barely a scratch — a miracle really.’

  ABBY AND BARNEY, WHO’D LOVED EACH OTHER so much in life, were separated in death.

  Each family claimed its own and mourned in their own way. The Catholic church was crowded with mourners for Abby. The following day Barney was buried after a sombre service at the Presbyterian church, which wasn’t large enough to accommodate the huge crowd of mourners. Enid had to be supported by Phillip throughout the service and while her frail physical presence was there, her heart and spirit had fled.