When she wasn’t studying, Ruby’s thoughts returned again and again to Dad. The days passed, and her birthday came and went. She hoped that Dad might have remembered it, but there was still no word. No card, no greeting. Nothing.
The exams were held over a week in November. Mr Miller kept an eye out to make sure nobody cheated. ‘Put your arm around your work, as big as an elephant’s foot,’ he said.
The last exam, for English composition, was on a Friday morning. Afterwards all the Grade Sevens gathered for a celebration lunch on a trestle table set up in the girls’ playground. Mr Miller brought plates of sandwiches and fruit cake, and a big jug of raspberry cordial. ‘To your future,’ he said, raising his glass. ‘I’m sure you’ll all go on to high school. And after that, what do you hope to do?’
Lorna and Betty said they’d stay and work on their fathers’ farms. ‘By the time I’m eighteen I want to be married and starting a family,’ Betty said. She looked sideways at Bob Turner, whose rather big ears went very red. ‘Four kids would be nice.’
‘I want to be a schoolteacher,’ said Iris.
‘Nursing for me,’ May said. Ruby looked at her in surprise. She’d never heard May mention this. But when she thought about it, she knew that it would be the perfect career for May.
‘A fine choice,’ said Mr Miller. ‘What about you, Ruby?’
‘I think I’ll be a photographer,’ Ruby said. ‘I’d like that.’ And then, because everybody was being so friendly and nice, she added, ‘But right now, the only thing I want to do is find my dad.’
‘Well, I know where you can find him,’ Doris said, with a mean little laugh. ‘He won’t be going very far, not where he is. I must say, I’m real glad people aren’t reading about my dad in the paper. I’d be that ashamed I wouldn’t want to show my face. Cynthia’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Cynthia?’
Cynthia blushed scarlet. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said.
‘Yes, you do,’ Doris said. ‘Ruby’s dad’s in prison, isn’t he? Just like your dad was. Probably they even know each other.’
‘That’s quite enough, Doris,’ Mr Miller said. But Ruby hardly heard him. She felt as if all her blood had drained away. Why did I say anything? she thought. I must have been mad. Doris has found out about Dad, and now everybody knows. Oh my hat – what will Mother do?
Cold with shock, she looked over at May.
May’s expression didn’t change, but she nodded slightly. ‘Be brave,’ Ruby imagined her saying. ‘Go on. Stand up to her.’
Ruby swallowed. ‘It’s true,’ she said. ‘My father was in prison, a while ago. I’m not sure what he did, but I know he isn’t a crook. He’s a really good person. Now he’s not in prison anymore and we don’t know where he is.’ She looked straight at Doris. ‘I just want my dad back.’
For a while nobody said anything. Then Eric Weber grinned at her. ‘Good on you, Ruby,’ he said. ‘That’s telling her.’
Mr Miller cleared his throat. ‘I know that none of this will go any further,’ he said. ‘Doris, I’d like to see you afterwards, please. Now, what about you, Cynthia? What will you be doing when this school year has ended?’
Cynthia blushed again as everyone turned to look at her. ‘I reckon we’ll be moving again before too long,’ she said. ‘We just found out yesterday. Dad might have a job with Mum’s brother in Mount Gambier. He’s an undertaker, and he could do with some help. It’s a good business, funerals, because people always die, don’t they? You can’t go wrong. There’s a proper house we can live in, too, Mum says.’
‘Oh, Cynthia, I’m so pleased for all of you,’ said Ruby.
‘Sounds like a real dead end to me,’ said Doris. But this time nobody was listening.
Now that the exams were over, there was a holiday sort of feeling at the school, with fewer lessons and more activities.
The main classroom was decorated for Christmas with swags of coloured paper chains, and fancy cut-out snowflakes were pasted on all the windows. Rehearsals began for the break-up concert, to be held in just three weeks’ time.
The highlight of the concert would be the Grade Seven play. With the help of Mr Miller, the Grade Sevens had written the script themselves – a funny version of the Cinderella story.
Ruby was Cinderella, and for the ballroom scene she would wear her pink silk taffeta dress – a little too tight for her now. The last time she’d worn it was at her fancy-dress birthday party almost exactly a year ago. May was the fairy godmother, and Cynthia was the wicked stepmother. Betty and Lorna were the ugly sisters, and they had already planned their silly hairstyles and outrageous costumes. Bob Turner was the prince, and Colin Evans was the king, with Iris his queen.
Eric had written a special comedy part for himself as the footman in charge of the glass slipper, and Clive Schwartz was the page who carried the slipper around on a cushion. Eric and Clive hoped to make everyone laugh with a slapstick routine. ‘Like in a Buster Keaton movie,’ Eric said to Ruby.
Doris had a special comedy role, too – as ladies’ maid to the ugly sisters. To everybody’s surprise, she was very good.
‘Who’d have thought Doris would be a star?’ Ruby said to May after their first rehearsal. ‘You just never know what people are really like, do you?’
Kettle Farm was getting ready for Christmas. The plum puddings had been made months ago, and now it was time for the cake. Aunt Vera had saved some of the egg money to pay for dried fruit and crystallised cherries, and Uncle James had bought a small bottle of brandy, which cost a whole ten shillings. ‘It’s lucky we only have Christmas once a year,’ he’d said gloomily, handing it to Aunt Vera.
This Saturday afternoon the kitchen was very busy. May was sifting flour and baking powder and spices into the big earthenware bowl, and Bee was picking stems off the washed currants. Mother was carefully lining the cake tin with butter-smeared strips of brown paper. Ruby was chopping candied lemon peel. She had just put a bit in her mouth when there was a knock at the back door.
‘I expect it’s a man looking for work,’ said Aunt Vera, who was standing at the stove blanching almonds. ‘There have been a few of them lately, haven’t there? Ruby, please show him to the garage. I think he’ll find James there.’
Ruby wiped her sticky hands on a dishcloth and went to the door.
The swagman stood with his back to the house, looking out over the yard. He was just an ordinary looking swaggie with dusty boots, a battered felt hat, and a rolled-up swag on his back.
‘My uncle is in the garage,’ Ruby began to say. And then the man turned around and held out his arms.
‘Ruby,’ he said. ‘My little Ruby.’
Ruby stared. I’m dreaming, she thought. Of course I’m dreaming.
Could it really be Dad, this thin, ragged, sunburned man? Was it possible?
For just a moment she held back, but then she looked up and saw the love and hope in his eyes, and she knew it was Dad, and the flood of joy and amazement and utter relief left her breathless. She tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come, so she just hugged and hugged him, sobbing and laughing at the same time.
‘It’s really you!’ she said at last. ‘I can’t believe it. It’s really, really you.’
She took his hand and led him into the kitchen, and Mother and Dad fell into each other’s arms, and Mother was crying and laughing too. And Ruby stood and watched the two people she loved better than anybody else in the world, and she knew she’d been right – Dad was what Mother needed most of all.
AT last they were all sitting around the kitchen table, talking and drinking cup after cup of tea. Baxter jumped up to sit on Dad’s lap, and Ruby looked at Uncle James, waiting for him to scold the little dog, but he didn’t say a single word.
‘It was sheer luck I found out you’d come looking for me, Ruby,’ Dad said. ‘After the river flooded I managed to get a job working on the roads, and it was quite a while before I went back to the camp to see
if any of my old mates were still around. When I got your message I chucked in my job immediately. I packed up my stuff, and this morning I hitched a ride on a truck going to Mount Pleasant. All I had to do was walk from there.’
‘So that was why you and May ran away to town that day,’ Uncle James said, looking curiously at Ruby. ‘Why didn’t you say so?’
‘We couldn’t,’ Ruby told him. ‘We knew you’d stop us. And it had to be a secret in case we couldn’t find Dad after all. We didn’t want to get Mother’s hopes up.’
‘Frankly, James, if it wasn’t for Ruby and May, I wouldn’t be here now,’ Dad said. ‘They are stars, the two of them.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Mum. ‘Bless you both.’
‘You’re back home with us, Dad,’ Ruby said. ‘And that’s all that matters. But I still don’t know what really happened – why you went to prison – I mean, what it was you didn’t do. And I really want to know. Can you please tell me?’
So Dad explained that thousands of pounds had been taken from his business and put in his personal bank account, and money had then disappeared from that account, and nobody knew where it had gone.
‘That’s called embezzlement,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know what had happened to the money either, but nobody believed me.’
‘Poor Dad.’
‘You should never have gone to prison,’ Uncle James said angrily. ‘The police bungled badly, in my opinion. Clowns, the lot of them.’
‘It could have been much worse,’ Dad said. ‘I wasn’t in prison for very long. They let me go because there wasn’t enough real evidence to convict me. I wasn’t off the hook, though. I was released on bail, which meant I had to report to a police station every week.’ He squeezed Mother’s hand. ‘The worst thing for me, Winifred, was that I wasn’t getting any more letters from you and Ruby. Don told me – very regretfully, I remember – that you’d decided you couldn’t live with the shame of having a jailbird in the family and you wanted nothing more to do with me.’
‘Oh, the beast!’ cried Ruby. And Mother said, ‘How could he be so cruel, lying to you like that? Why would he do such a thing?’
‘I’ve wondered about that since I got your message, Ruby,’ Dad said. ‘I can’t tell you how much that meant to me, sweetheart. When Don told me you’d given up on me, I hit rock bottom. I told myself that if you wanted to forget me, I’d try to forget you, too. I still don’t really know why Don lied to me. I think he simply wanted me out of the picture. He wanted to forget his old life so that he could enjoy his new life, and I was getting in the way.’
‘Why did he come and visit us here, then?’ Ruby demanded.
‘Showing off,’ sniffed Aunt Flora.
Bee wriggled her chair closer. ‘What happened next, Uncle Harry?’
‘Well, a few weeks ago the police told me that my case was being investigated again,’ Dad said. ‘They had a new lead to follow. It was reported in the paper, apparently.’
‘We didn’t see it,’ Ruby said, ‘but Doris must have. Go on, Dad.’
‘Somebody wrote a letter to the police, suggesting they bring Donald Walker in for questioning. The police contacted me again just before I left Adelaide. It turned out that Don had been taking money from the business for years. He’d been very clever, covering his tracks by putting it into different accounts under false names, including mine. I’d always let Don deal with the money side of the business, and I trusted him completely. I was never more surprised in my life.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ Ruby said. ‘Not after what Brenda said about him wanting our house. But who could have told the police?’
‘Clearly a person with a regard for justice,’ said Aunt Flora, puffing on her pipe, ‘and a degree of affection for your family. And a belief that the Walkers were not what they pretended to be.’
‘Hmm,’ said May, looking at her. ‘I wonder who that person was?’
‘We’ll probably never know,’ said Aunt Flora. ‘By the way, Vera, I owe you threepence for a stamp.’
‘What happens now, Harry?’ asked Uncle James. ‘Will Donald Walker go to prison?’
‘Things don’t look good for him,’ Dad replied. ‘It’s funny, but I don’t hate him for what he’s done. I just feel sad about the whole horrible business.’
‘Me too,’ Ruby said. ‘Oh my hat, poor Brenda. It’ll be so frightful for her.’
‘I want my name cleared, of course,’ Dad said. ‘But the law moves very slowly. And now that I have my family back,’ he added with a smile, ‘I need a job, and a home.’
‘Oh, Dad!’ Ruby said, suddenly feeling more bubbly than she’d ever felt in her whole life, ‘and Uncle James, and Aunt Flora, and everyone, I’ve had the most brilliant, smashing, marvellous idea.’
They talked about Ruby’s idea over supper. Uncle James was doubtful at first. ‘You’re a townie, Harry,’ he said, ‘a businessman. What would you know about working on a farm?’
‘Look, James,’ Dad said, ‘if our city girl Ruby can turn into a country girl, I think I have every chance of becoming a decent sort of farmer. I was breaking rocks at Yatala. Nothing can be much harder than that.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Uncle James. ‘Walter and I can show you the ropes before he goes back to school. The boy is a good worker and he’ll be hard to replace, but I’ll be glad to have your help.’
‘Thanks, Dad,’ said Walter, looking pleased.
Ruby was so delighted that Uncle James had agreed to give Dad a job, and so glad that at last he’d said something nice to Walter, that she left her seat, went straight over to her uncle, and gave him a kiss. ‘You won’t be sorry, Uncle James,’ she said.
‘All right, all right,’ said Uncle James, looking embarrassed. ‘No need to make a song and dance about it.’
‘You’ll need somewhere to live,’ Aunt Flora told Dad. ‘The Wests will be moving out of the old cottage in a few weeks’ time. After that it can be your home – yours and Winifred’s and Ruby’s – for as long as you want it.’ She stopped. ‘Lord above, Winifred, don’t cry. It’s not a palace I’m offering you.’
‘I know, Aunt Flora,’ said Mother, wiping her eyes. ‘It’s so much more than that.’
‘If I smile any more,’ Ruby said, ‘I think my face will split in half!’
‘The cottage needs a lot of work,’ said Uncle James. ‘It needs a new kitchen, and a proper bathroom. Repairs to the roof. And you’ll have to plumb in a rainwater tank.’
‘I’m a builder, James,’ Dad said. ‘It’s a grand little house, and it would be a pleasure to restore it. I’ve always loved that place. I took a photograph of it, years ago. Don’t you have it now, Ruby?’
Suddenly Ruby realised why the cottage had always seemed familiar to her, and it was like light breaking through clouds. ‘D’you mean the cottage in your photograph is that cottage?’
‘The very one. I expect you’d only have seen it from the other side – the road side.’
‘So that’s why I remembered it,’ Ruby said. ‘But in the photo there’s a big tree next to it.’
‘That tree had white-ants, and we had to chop it down,’ Uncle James said. ‘It did change the look of the place.’
‘How strange that you chose to keep that particular photo, Ruby,’ Dad said. ‘Perhaps the cottage was fated to be a part of our lives. And how you are progressing with your own camera, sweetheart? I’ve often wondered.’
‘I’ve taken heaps of photos, mostly of people at school. They aren’t developed yet, because I ran out of money, but I’ve got some earlier ones I can show you. One especially.’ She went to the bedroom and brought back her prints. ‘This is my favourite, look, this one of Aunt Flora with one of our cats. The cat’s name is Gaf.’
Dad looked at the photograph for a long time. ‘It’s beautiful,’ he said at last. ‘You’ve got the balance and the light just right. I think we should get this one enlarged and framed, don’t you?’
‘And then,’ said Mother,
who was looking at the photograph too, ‘we could hang it on the wall of our new home as a tribute to Aunt Flora, because we owe her so much.’
‘Quite right, too,’ Aunt Flora said. ‘Every house should have its resident witch.’
‘Its resident good witch,’ said Ruby. ‘And Dad, when we paint the inside of the cottage, let’s not paint anything pale green. I really, really hate pale green.’
WEARING a torn, patched dress for the first act of Cinderella, Ruby peeked around the side of the stage curtain. All the seats in the hall were full of people laughing and talking. She could see Mother and Dad in the front row, and next to them Aunt Flora and Aunt Vera and Uncle James and Walter. Then the hall lights were turned off, and the curtains opened. The break-up concert was about to start.
The Grade Ones filed on to the stage to present the first item, a medley of nursery rhymes.
‘Rock-a-bye, baby,’ sang the girls, rocking dolls in their arms. ‘Ride a cock horse,’ chanted the boys, galloping their hobby-horses. Jack and Jill marched around the stage with an empty bucket, and Tom the Piper’s Son dropped his wooden pig and forgot which way to run. Josie West was Miss Muffet’s spider, with eight long black stockings stuffed with newspaper attached to her waist as legs.
‘Well done, Josie!’ said Ruby, when Josie had skipped off the stage with the other Grade Ones. ‘You made a smashing spider.’
‘Spiders are ugly, though,’ Josie said, in her whispery little voice. ‘I wanted to be a fairy princess.’
‘I don’t think there are any princesses in nursery rhymes, are there?’
‘You’re a princess.’
‘No, I’m not,’ Ruby said. ‘I’m dressed in rags, see? I don’t turn into a princess until the fairy godmother does her magic spell.’
‘Oh.’ Josie stroked Ruby’s frilly pink dress, which was hanging up, ready for her to change into it in the second act. ‘It feels like petals,’ she said, putting her cheek against it.
In no time at all, Ruby was watching the second-last act, which was the Grade Sixes performing ‘Singin’ in the Rain’. Then the curtains closed, and suddenly she realised how nervous she was. Oh my hat, she thought, I’m about to go on stage in front of all those people! And for at least five terrifying seconds she couldn’t remember what her first line was.
Ruby of Kettle Farm Page 5
