Freedom's Land

by Anna Jacobs

  As they did so, he could see how close Bert was to breaking down.

  The poor man didn’t speak. Shoulders straight, head held high, he walked away in the direction of his block and wasn’t seen again that day.

  ‘I reckon he will pay you back,’ Andrew said.

  ‘I do too.’ Gil raised his voice. ‘Well, let’s get some work done here.’

  Irene watched Freddie count their meagre store of coins, then count them again. ‘We’ll manage.’

  ‘We’ve no choice but to manage, have we? I’d never have come if I’d known we’d be reduced to this.’ He gestured round with a look of distaste.

  ‘I like it here.’

  He stared at her as if he didn’t believe her.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘But we’re living like savages.’

  She laughed. ‘And I’ve not felt this well for years.’

  His face cleared slightly. ‘You’re not – pretending?’

  ‘No, Freddie. I’d never pretend with you. I do feel better. My cough’s gone completely and I’ve far more energy these days, you know I have.’

  With an inarticulate murmur, he pulled her into his arms and gave her a quick hug, heedless of what others might say. ‘Then I’ve just got to hold on, however hard it is.’

  She’d known it! He tried to hide it from her, but he hated it here, hated it with a passion, was desperately homesick as well.

  And she could never think of going back to England.

  Would this destroy their love?

  10

  Bert got up before the sun had risen on the Sunday morning, the embers of his anger at his wife still glowing hotly within him. How could she have done this to him? He pushed that thought aside when he realised his anger was preventing him from thinking clearly. He shouldn’t waste his time on thoughts of her – only how could you help it when someone had knocked the ground from under your feet, treated you so badly.

  He’d spoken to one of the men building the new houses in Northcliffe and been told he could earn some money today if he could get into the town and labour for them. It was only a few miles, so he didn’t need to ask a favour of anyone, but could simply walk there.

  He set off, hunger growling in his belly, wondering what he was going to do about feeding himself. He didn’t have time to bake loaves, even if he’d known how to do it. Maybe he could pay one of the women to do it for him? But he could only do that if he had some money and he hadn’t, not a single coin. In the meantime, he ate at midday and the evening with the group and that had to do.

  Gradually, as he walked, the sun rose and birds began to sing and flutter around the forest. It was pretty here when there were no people around to disturb things. He stopped once to stare at a particularly big tree. If you cut that down, six people could stand on the stump, he reckoned. He’d never seen anything like it. A small creature scuttled among the leaf litter on the ground. Good luck to it, he thought, and realised it’d brought a smile to his face.

  In town, two men had already started work, needing to get the roof on before the rains came, even if it was the Sabbath. He went up to the fellow in charge and reminded him of his offer of work, was soon labouring alongside them.

  In the middle of the morning they took a smoko, breaking for a cup of tea and a cigarette. One man had some bacon sandwiches and Bert couldn’t stop his stomach rumbling. The man shot him a quick glance. ‘Had anything to eat yet today, mate?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Wife not treating you well?’

  Usually Bert kept things to himself, but the sandwich smelled so good, words burst out of him. ‘She ran off. Took all my money.’

  ‘Oh. Heard about that. Didn’t realise it was you. Sorry, mate. Here.’ He thrust one of his sandwiches into Bert’s hand.

  That simple act of kindness brought tears to his eyes and he was too hungry to refuse. ‘Thanks.’ He bit into the sandwich, closing his eyes in pleasure at how good it was.

  At midday they each gave him another sandwich, this time with cheese in them, and he had to thank them with a nod, because he didn’t trust himself to speak without breaking down.

  By the end of the day he was exhausted, but he’d earned five shillings and that was what counted.

  ‘Come again next Sunday,’ the one in charge said. ‘They’re not worrying about us observing the Sabbath – well, there’s no one here to worry – and anyway, they need the houses built as quickly as they can.’

  ‘Thanks. I will. What if it’s raining? They tell me it’s going to rain heavily soon.’ It was certainly much cooler than it had been.

  ‘We’ll still be working inside the house.’

  As he walked back, something hard inside Bert’s chest softened just a little, and the coins clinked cheerfully in his pocket.

  When he arrived at the main camp, he went over to Gil and handed him three shillings. ‘I did some work in Northcliffe today.’

  ‘Thanks. Look, me and Pete are just about to have our meal. Why don’t you sit with us?’

  Bert had never been at the receiving end of so many acts of kindness before in his whole life. Again, he could only nod as he sat down.

  ‘How are you managing?’

  ‘All right. I had a bit of a problem this morning as I had to set off before breakfast to walk into Northcliffe.’

  ‘You should have come and seen me about it. We’d have found you some food to take with you. We’ll have to work out something for your washing, too.’

  ‘It’s the money I’m most concerned about. I’ve never owed anyone before. Not even a halfpenny.’

  ‘Well, you’re paying it off, aren’t you? That’s what matters. I can wait, don’t worry. I’m not short of a bob or two. Now, come and have a bowl of kangaroo stew while it’s hot.’

  As he walked home, Bert felt better than he had for a very long time. These people were so kind. He’d never met anyone like them. It made him doubly determined to pay back the money Susan had stolen – and to make good in Australia.

  Three days later the other families assigned to their group arrived, bumping along in the same Red Reo trucks as the first eight families. It was an overcast day, which felt strange after so much sunshine, and clouds were racing across the sky, dimming the sun intermittently and threatening showers or worse.

  Sound carried more easily in the damp air and they all heard the trucks coming well before they came into sight.

  Gil wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of one arm and beckoned to the men, who had stopped work to listen. ‘We might as well stop now. I need to go and meet these new folk. Someone tell the others we’re stopping early for dinner.’

  ‘Will there be enough food for everyone?’ Bert asked.

  ‘They’ll have been given a piece of bread and jam, and a cup of tea at the store, so we don’t have to feed them till teatime.’ Gil looked up at the sky. ‘We’d better unload their things as quickly as we can, though. It won’t be long before it’s raining.’

  By the time the men reached the camp, the newcomers had got down from the trucks and were standing huddled together in groups. Most had a glazed look in their eyes, as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

  ‘Did we look as shocked as that when we first arrived?’ Andrew wondered aloud.

  ‘Worse,’ the foreman said. ‘You’d nothing waiting for you, not even tents. This lot has it easy compared to you.’

  Andrew watched as the women found cups of tea for the newcomers, then he went forward to join them. Janie was standing near her mother and gave him her customary resentful look as he approached. He ignored her, nodded to the family standing beside his own and offered his hand. ‘Welcome to Special Group One. I’m Andrew Boyd.’

  ‘Reggie Cheever.’ The man shook hands, but his attention was still on his surroundings. ‘I can’t believe this is it! The government said they’d give us farms. Where are they?’

  ‘Not made yet. We were surprised too. We’ve just had to make the best of things. At least t
hey pay us so much per acre for clearing our blocks and that’s enough to manage on till we get our cows and start producing the cream.’

  The man turned with a sneering expression on his face. ‘Oh, I’m sure you lot made the best of things. You’ll have taken all the good blocks of land just because you got here first. You’ll be all right!’

  Andrew felt anger rise in him at this undeserved accusation, especially as he had copped one of the worst blocks. ‘Land was selected purely by drawing lots.’

  The man made a scornful noise and dug his hands deep in his pockets, hunching his shoulders.

  The woman standing beside him, who was heavily pregnant, scowled at everyone impartially and rubbed her back. She had a small child with a snotty nose whining and tugging at her skirts, and the whole family looked and smelled as if they and their clothes could do with a good wash.

  ‘Why don’t you sit down?’ Norah said to her. ‘You look tired. We use these logs as stools.’

  Mrs Cheever greeted this with a curl of her lips. ‘I’d rather be taken to our house, thank you. Have our boxes arrived yet? And they said we’d get stretcher beds to start us off. I need a lie-down. I have to have my lie-down in the afternoon, or I can’t manage.’

  ‘Er—’ Norah was relieved when Gil shouted to gain their attention and she was spared being the one to give them the bad news.

  When they’d all gathered round, Gil explained the situation and some of the newcomers exploded into angry protests, including Reggie. The foreman had to yell at them several times to quieten them.

  Norah felt sorry for him. It wasn’t his fault things had been so badly organised and he’d worked as hard as a man could to help them all, keeping going in circumstances where others would give up.

  As the shouters calmed down, Gil spoke again. ‘First we’ll draw lots to give you a number each, then we’ll go through the numbers from one onwards and draw lots again to give you each a block of land. After that we’ll sort out who shares which humpy according to family size, because there aren’t enough temporary shacks built to go round. I don’t know how long you’ll have to share for and we’ll have to fit three families into some of the humpies until the materials arrive to build others – unless you’d rather sleep in tents. We’ve got several of those going spare.’

  ‘We were promised farmhouses!’ Reggie shouted.

  ‘They haven’t been built yet. The government has promised to send men and materials to erect the houses – and they will, eventually. Look at it this way: at least you’ll be under cover.’ He glanced at the sky, which was growing steadily darker. ‘And since it looks like rain, let’s get on with it.’

  But Reggie and two other men started protesting again, and people had to shush them before Gil could conduct the draw.

  Others waited more patiently and one newcomer on the other side of Andrew muttered apologetically, ‘I’m sick of them lot complaining. Nothing’s ever good enough for them. We aren’t all like that and some of us can see that you folk are doing your best.’

  When Gil got everyone’s attention again, he took some paper and began to write numbers on it. Reggie instantly pushed through the crowd to stand where he could see what the foreman was doing.

  By now Andrew was praying his family wouldn’t have to share with the Cheevers, and he probably wasn’t the only one.

  The block numbers meant nothing to the newcomers, but they clutched the bits of paper and took them across to Pete, who was writing them down on the official form.

  Then Gil began to assign the families to share humpies.

  Bert got the largest family in his, one with six children ranging from a strapping fourteen-year-old lad to a babe in arms. He said nothing, just nodded when introduced to them.

  To Andrew’s dismay, his family did get the Cheevers to share their humpy. His heart sank and he could see that Norah was also upset. It felt as if luck had been against them ever since their arrival here, and he didn’t look forward to sharing such a small hut with mean-minded people. However, he put the best face on it he could and forced a smile when Gil pointed him out to them.

  ‘Since the trucks had to leave, we’ll have to use my horse and cart to take your things to the temporary homes,’ Gil said. ‘Is everything labelled? Good. You can walk there with the people you’re sharing with and me and Pete will come round with your stuff as quickly as we can.’

  ‘Norah and I will have to move our things to one half of the humpy,’ Andrew said stiffly to Reggie. ‘We didn’t have time to do it before.’

  It was a silent group who walked back to the block. When she saw the tin shed she’d be living in, Lil burst into tears and refused to be comforted. Reggie was no happier, stamping around and muttering remarks like,‘Worse than a cattle shed’. He saw Blossom and asked sharply, ‘How did you get a cow so quickly?’ He grunted at the explanation, scowling even more deeply, as if there was something wrong with them looking after the group’s cow.

  The Cheevers didn’t offer to help move things, but went outside again to wait for the Boyds to clear their half of the humpy, predicting everything would be soaked if they didn’t hurry up and wondering why they were always last to get anything.

  ‘This isn’t going to be easy,’ Norah whispered.

  ‘It’s going to be terrible living in such close quarters with them.’

  Reggie looked inside again to see how they were getting on, but still didn’t offer to help them, just wandered back out, muttering to himself.

  So be it, Andrew thought. He’d not offer to help them move in, either.

  When the children saw how their sleeping arrangements had been changed, they became sulky, so that by the time Gil drove up with the Cheevers’ trunk, some stretcher beds and blueys, Andrew had had to speak sharply to the boys and Norah had scolded Janie, for trying to move her bed right next to her mother’s.

  ‘Here you are,’ Gil said cheerfully. ‘Come and help me get your things down.’ He looked across in puzzlement as Andrew made no effort to help the scowling, grumbling newcomer.

  As Gil got back on the cart after unloading things, Andrew moved over to speak to him privately. ‘If there’s any chance of changing our sleeping partners, I’d be grateful.’

  ‘I’ll bear it in mind. I can see you’ve got a problem there. Has he done anything but complain?’

  ‘No.’ Andrew went back inside, leaving the newcomers to arrange their sleeping accommodation as best they could. He could hear them grumbling, hear everything they said, because the central wall didn’t reach to the ceiling.

  He felt obliged to mention the time of the evening meal to them and as a result, the adults all walked down to the central camp together, the boys having run ahead, though Janie stayed beside her mother. He explained that some people were cooking for themselves now, but the ones who lived closest were still sharing.

  ‘After this, we’ll cook our own, too,’ Lil said. ‘You don’t know what other people put into it.’

  Norah managed not to say something sharp, but only just. The women who were sharing were doing wonders with a very limited number of ingredients.

  The meal wasn’t ready yet and thunder was rumbling in the distance. People stood round the fires chatting as they waited. Some of the newcomers seemed already on good terms with the people they were sharing with. Others, like the Cheevers, stood apart and made no attempt to talk to anyone – nor did the Boyds stay near them.

  It was dark by the time the food was ready and lightning was zipping across the sky. They ate quickly and set off back to their blocks. Those who had them used hurricane lanterns to guide their way. Even inside the humpy candles weren’t much use in windy weather, because draughts abounded and they were always blowing out.

  Before they got home, it started to spit with rain.

  ‘Run for it!’ Andrew yelled.

  ‘Hoy! What about us?’ Reggie called after him. ‘My Lil can’t run in her condition.’

  Andrew slowed down. ‘You go ahead with the chi
ldren, Norah. I can’t leave these people to stumble along a strange path.’

  ‘We’ll stay with you.’

  ‘Why should we all get wet? You take the children back.’

  When he eventually reached the hut, where a light was flickering in his own half, he was soaked through and Lil was sobbing loudly. He’d carried the little girl and left Reggie to look after his wife. The child smelled to Andrew as if she’d wet herself. Well, he’d not seen the mother make any attempt to take the poor little thing to the latrines, as other women did.

  He felt duty bound to ask, ‘Have you got matches and candles?’

  ‘Yes, that foreman fellow gave us some.’ Reggie led the way inside his half, striking a match and lighting a candle, then pushing the flimsy door shut without a word of farewell or thanks to the man who’d got soaked guiding them here.

  Inside their half of the humpy, Andrew pulled the corrugated iron door across the hole, glad to shut the Cheevers out. It was rattling in the wind, so he pulled the trunk behind it to hold it in place.

  When he turned, he found Norah smiling and holding out a towel. The three children were already in bed, their eyes gleaming in the candlelight as they watched him. ‘I’ll hold up a blanket and you can change out of those wet clothes behind it,’ she said. ‘Then perhaps you’d do the same for me?’

  No complaints from this woman. Just practical help. He reached out to touch her cheek. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Not complaining.’

  ‘What good would it do? It’s not your fault. You can’t control the weather.’

  ‘That doesn’t stop some women.’ He glanced at the dividing wall.

  From the other side came sobs and bitter recriminations. It was half an hour before the Cheevers stopped quarrelling, by which time Andrew was in bed, wishing he could hold Norah in his arms, only they were each on a single stretcher bed.

  She’d fallen asleep almost at once, but he couldn’t seem to settle, not with their new neighbours still arguing and revealing all their secret grudges. It wasn’t going to be very pleasant living in such close proximity to them.