A Fortunate Life

by A B Facey

  When lunch was over, Mrs Bibby was ready to go back to her home. Bill and I put her horse to the sulky and fetched it to the house. She came to me, put her arms around me and kissed me two or three times. Then she got into the sulky and drove away. Uncle said, ‘Well I’m damned, she is crying.’ Grandma said, ‘She’s very fond of you, Bert.’ I replied, ‘She’s a lovely woman. I wish that she was my mother.’

  23

  TRAVELLING HOME

  I got a shock later when Uncle told me that my brothers had gone the day before. He said, ‘They didn’t think that you were going to go, and their job cut out on Thursday so they left yesterday. They will be there by now.’ This made me feel bad and I said that if I had known before Mrs Bibby left, I would have gone back with her. Then to my surprise, Grandma spoke up and said, ‘Don’t worry. You will be able to go to Perth by yourself all right. When you get to Narrogin you go to the railway station and wait for the train. There is a waiting-room there and you can get a sandwich and a cup of tea anytime you like.’

  Grandma and I sat in the kitchen and had a long talk. I asked her if she thought I was doing the right thing and she never answered for awhile. Then she said, ‘Well it is like this: she’s your natural mother and until you are twenty-one she is your legal guardian and can claim you no matter what, unless the Court of Law says otherwise. So I think you should go and see what she wants you for, but don’t forget what I have told you about money. Don’t let her know how much you have because when she was younger, money was her God. She may have changed of course.’

  Then Grandma told me that the man my mother had married was a widower whose first wife died at childbirth. The baby had lived and was still with them – his Christian name was Harry. That was how my mother came to meet this man – she looked after the baby for him. Mother had had two children by him – a boy called Jack and a girl called Mollie.

  Grandma then said, ‘If it is not too personal to ask, how much money have you got?’ I told her I had sixty pounds that I had saved from my wages and made from animal skins. I told her that I had bought a rifle, tin trunk, travelling rug and blanket and a few other things, and that the Bibbys had bought all my other clothing. I had offered to pay them but they wouldn’t hear of it. Grandma said that I had done well saving that much.

  I then asked Grandma if she would like to come with me to see her daughter – I would pay her expenses. She said, ‘No, don’t go putting me on a spot. I’m over twenty-one.’ She said this jokingly. Then she said, ‘No Albert, it’s up to your mother to come here to see me. I’m too old to go travelling much now. Are you taking all that money with you? Sixty pounds is a lot of money.’ Then I explained what I intended doing. When I got to Wickepin the following morning I would go to the Post Office and put most of my money in the State Savings Bank, and keep only enough to pay my fare and keep me for a few weeks in Perth. ‘I won’t tell anyone how much money I have in the bank,’ I said. ‘I’ll hide the bank book and then if I want more money I will draw it out down there.’ Grandma said that was a good idea. I offered her ten pounds to spend on herself but she refused saying she was all right. All she wanted was for me to be careful and to make my money last as long as possible. ‘Just as hard to spend as it was to earn,’ she said. ‘If you remember this you will be all right. Now you go and see your mother and give her my love, and tell her I would like a letter now and then from her and that I still think of her.’

  After this long talk with Grandma I went out to join my cousin Bill who wanted to see my rifle. I showed it to him and he looked at it with envy. He wanted to have a shot with it but I stopped that because I knew what Uncle would say. I rolled it up again in its bag wrappings and put it away. For the rest of the evening all Bill could talk about was the rifle.

  Next morning Grandma was up bright and early. She was always up first in the mornings. I got up a few minutes after Grandma and she made an early cup of tea just for us. She told me Uncle was busy making dirt bricks to build a new house.

  These dirt bricks were made with a special kind of earth. The earth was dampened to an exact dampness, then put into a mould and stamped in with a special stamper until it was packed tight. Then the mould was lifted up and away, leaving the brick which was twelve inches by eight inches, and six inches thick. This process was done on a very level portion of ground especially prepared for the job. When one brick was done the mould was put on the ground alongside it, and the next one was made. The finished bricks were left on the ground for a day to dry. When they dried out they were very hard and could be stacked ready for use.

  Uncle intended building the new house himself when he had enough bricks. Grandma showed me the plan of a six-roomed house with a verandah all around and a corrugated iron roof.

  After breakfast that morning I said goodbye and received another warning from Grandma about my money. Then Aunt Alice drove me to Wickepin. I went to the Post Office there and booked and paid my fare to Narrogin. Then I enquired about how or what I had to do to open a State Savings Bank account. The Postmaster got some forms and showed me what to do. I told him I could sign my name but couldn’t fill in the forms, so he said he would fill in the forms for me and that all I would have to do was sign them. I told him I wanted to bank fifty pounds and that I was going to Perth and may want to draw out some money there. He said that would be all right and that he would need a specimen signature to send to Perth. So when I boarded the coach I had ten pounds in cash in my pocket and fifty pounds in the bank. I felt quite rich and very pleased with myself.

  The trip to Narrogin was very quiet. I had to sit in the back seat as there were two other passengers – a woman and her daughter – and they sat in the front seat with the driver. The mail coach was a kind of buggy. It had two seats, one in the front and one at the back. There was enough room for five people as well as luggage.

  The coach always stopped at the Post Office in Narrogin. It was really a mail coach that was allowed to carry passengers. It wasn’t far to the railway station so I carried my tin trunk and rifle to the railway station and labelled them as passenger luggage to Perth. To do this I had to pay my fare. The usual fare was one pound, but the Station Master asked me my age and I told him I was fourteen. Then I remembered that the police at Narrogin could verify this. The Station Master rang the police, and then he said it was all right. I asked him what he wanted to know my age for. He said that children under sixteen were only charged half fare, ‘So you see, it is lucky that I asked you because now you can go to Perth on half fare which is ten shillings. The train leaves here at midnight.’

  I thanked the Station Master. He became curious and asked, ‘How come a lad like you is travelling alone. Don’t think I’m nosey but it is not the usual thing.’ I told him why and that I hadn’t seen my mother for nine years. He seemed surprised and became quite friendly. The time was now getting on to seven o’clock. He said, ‘Have you had your evening meal?’ I replied, ‘No, I haven’t. I’ve been too busy travelling and thinking about my trip. I even forgot to have my lunch at midday. My Grandma said I can get a cup of tea and something to eat at this station.’ He told me that the tea-rooms were closed between trains and that I would have a job finding a place at this time of night for a meal. He said that if I liked to wait for awhile until he was relieved at eight, I could go to his house and have a meal with him and his wife. He was sure his wife wouldn’t mind. I thanked him and said that I would like that, so we talked until his relief came at eight o’clock. Then we went to his home, which was only about a hundred yards from the station.

  The Station Master’s wife made me welcome and said that she had cooked a stew and there was plenty for an extra one. She served me a large plate of stew. It was the nicest I’d ever tasted and after the meal I thanked them and said that I appreciated their kindness. They asked me to stay with them until later in the evening, as I would be more comfortable waiting there than on the station all alone. So I helped to wash the dishes and clean up, then they took me into the sit
ting-room.

  They had a gramophone. The lady played some lovely music. I hadn’t heard anything like it before. The music and singing was coming from a small, round-shaped thing, about the size of a jam tin, only black. They called it a record. All the voices and music sounded just like the real thing. It was marvellous. This invention fascinated me beyond all, I cannot explain how it made me feel. They must have played the records over and over because it only seemed a short while after that that I had been there three hours. It was eleven o’clock and these people were past their bedtime. I thanked them again for their kindness and told them that I had never enjoyed myself so much before.

  The train from Albany to Perth was on time. I found an unoccupied seat and settled in for the trip. It was nine years since I had ridden in a train. The carriage had only one other passenger in it and he was lying full-length on the seat, sound asleep. He must have been used to travelling in a train. I was too excited to sleep. I was thinking about what it would be like living with a real mother. Would she boss me around and make me do all the work around the place, and what about my stepfather? What was he like? I hadn’t even seen him. Would he be a bully or a kind man? Did he drink or get drunk? What were my half-brother and half-sister like? Would they like me? All these things were troubling me. I had mixed feelings about all this. Why didn’t I stay in the bush where I had hundreds of friends? There were the birds and the animals. There was no loneliness in the bush and nothing to harm you.

  Now I was on my way to the unknown. Oh well, I thought, I could always go back to the bush. Or could I? Grandma said my mother could make me do as she bade until I was twenty-one. This didn’t seem right to me. Where was she when I was nine and sent out to work? Where was she when I was horse-whipped and very sick? Why hadn’t she come to me then? Perhaps she wasn’t told about my plight. Yes, that was it, I thought, she hadn’t known. My thoughts went on and on along these lines.

  Then all at once the man on the other seat sat up and said, ‘Goodday.’ I said, ‘Goodday.’ He said he was going to Perth and asked me how far I was going. I told him to Perth too, and from there to a place called Subiaco where my mother lived. He said that he knew where it was and that it was about three miles or so out of Perth. You could get there by changing trains at Perth or you could take a cab. He said that he would take a cab if he was me because Subiaco was a big place and I might have to walk a long way. A cab would take me right to the house where I wanted to go. I decided there and then to take a cab.

  This man was very friendly. When the train stopped at Beverley and a man called out in a loud voice, ‘Twenty minutes for refreshments,’ he said to come and have a cup of tea and a sandwich. So we got out and walked along the platform to a large counter where most of the passengers already were.

  Then the man asked me what my name was. I told him and he said that he was called Duncan, but Dunk for short. A girl at the counter came to where we were and asked what would we like. Dunk replied, ‘Tea and sandwiches for two please.’ She was back in a few minutes and said as she was putting the tea down, ‘Sixpence each please.’ We paid her and had our cup of tea and sandwich. Dunk had double service. He said that he was hungry, as he’d slept all the way from Albany till just a few miles out of Beverley.

  Just before the train pulled out, three other passengers got into our carriage – a man, his wife and daughter. They were going to Perth. This put me back into silence – I always went shy with girls, and this one was about my age. Dunk and the man got talking about all sorts of things and I spent the rest of the trip looking out of a window.

  24

  ARRIVAL

  We got into Perth about ten thirty on Tuesday morning, the first day of October 1908. Dunk helped me get my luggage and put it into a cab just outside the station. I gave the driver the address of Mother’s place and away I went to Subiaco.

  I arrived at Mother’s at about eleven thirty and knocked on the door. There was no answer so I went around the back and knocked again. Still no answer. The cab driver had waited to be sure it was the right address. He suggested that I ask a neighbour. ‘Yes,’ the neighbour told me, ‘your mother and two youths left this morning at about ten o’clock.’ Her guess was that they had gone to the city. I went back to the cab, got my luggage and thanked the driver.

  I carried my tin trunk and rifle around to the back of the house, then undid the travelling rug and spread it out to lie down. I was very tired. I hadn’t slept for over twenty-nine hours and they might not be back for a while. I folded my coat against the trunk and in a few minutes was sound asleep.

  I was awakened later by someone shaking me and calling out, ‘Come on, get up and shift yourself out of this, you young vagabond.’ When I opened my eyes, I saw that it was a policeman. He grabbed me by the scruff of my neck, stood me up and ordered me to put my coat on, pick up my things and get out. I was dazed and for a few seconds I couldn’t understand what was going on. Then the policeman said, ‘What’s your game? Haven’t you got a home? What’s your name?’ I said, ‘This is my home now. I only arrived here a little while ago. This is my mother’s place.’ Then I noticed three children. They were standing outside the back path – two boys and a lovely little girl. The girl was only about eight years old. The policeman laughed and said, ‘Don’t tell me any tall tales. This is the home of these children.’ I replied, ‘Yes, they are my mother’s children. My other brothers came down on Sunday.’ Then the eldest boy said, ‘Oh, Constable, we have made a mistake. We forgot about it. The others came on Sunday and they said Albert, that is this boy, was coming down later.’ With that the policeman said he was sorry. Then he turned to the children and said that next time they must make sure of their facts about tramps sleeping on their back verandah, before they went bouncing down to the Police Station. With that he turned to me and said, ‘Sorry lad.’ He stamped off, slamming the front gate behind him. When he had gone the children started to laugh and I joined in with them. It was frightening while it lasted but we could see the funny side of it now.

  So these kids were my relatives. They explained how the policeman came. They had all come home for lunch. Mother locked up when she went out and planted the key. The kids knew where the key was and let themselves in to have lunch, which was left prepared for them by Mother. When the little girl, who arrived first, saw what she thought was a tramp asleep on the back verandah, she had run to the Police Station and reported it. So that was my welcome home, or at least what I was supposed to call home from now on.

  The three children had their lunch and I ate with them. Then they showed me where my brothers slept. There was a bed made up for me in the room, they said. When the kids went back to school I made myself at home, put my trunk under one of the beds, lay down, and in a few minutes I was asleep again.

  I was awakened by one of my brothers shaking me. Dinner was ready and it was about half past five. When I walked out into the dining-room all the family were there. My mother ran to me, put her arms around me and kissed me many times. She said that she was so pleased to see me. Then she introduced me to my stepfather. I had already met the others. My stepfather shook hands with me and said that I was a big boy for my age. He told me that I was very welcome and to make myself at home. My stepfather is what I called ‘a little big man’. He was only about five feet eight inches tall and weighed about sixteen stone. He had been a top class sportsman when younger. He had played league football on the Goldfields and later played league for Subiaco Football Club. After that he was an umpire. He told me to call him Bill and said, ‘That is what all my friends call me.’ I said that I would like that. With that we all sat down to dinner.

  This was the first meal I could remember having with my mother. After dinner my mother, Harry and Bill cleared the dishes away. I volunteered to do the washing-up but my mother wouldn’t hear of it. She said, ‘Not tonight, you must be tired. Jack and Henry (Harry) can do it tonight.’ Harry was about twelve years old and Jack was nine.

  So Mother, Bill, my tw
o brothers and I all went into the sitting-room. My mother and Bill asked a lot of questions about my work and how I had been treated. They were amazed at what I had been through, and how I had been robbed of my wages and flogged. They were shocked. To prove my story I took off my coat and shirt and showed them the whip marks which were still very clear over my back and upper arms. I explained that the lower part of my body and legs were worse.

  I was told that my sister Myra, who was left with Mother when we first arrived in Kalgoorlie from Barkers Creek in Victoria, had taken ill just before Mother came to Perth, and was in a sanatorium at Coolgardie. She had been suspected of having consumption. Mother told me that she hoped to get transferred to a hospital for infectious diseases at West Subiaco. She hoped it would be soon so that Eric, Roy and I could see her. It was something I looked forward to as I loved my sister Myra. We were always together when we were little in Victoria. I hadn’t seen her since I was five years old.

  Mother also told me that my oldest brother Joseph was in the wheat-belt somewhere, still working for a firm of surveyors. My other brother Vernon was also still in the Royal Australian Navy and was at that time attending a naval school in Melbourne. I hadn’t seen either of them since they had come west with our father when I was a baby. So I really didn’t know them at all – only as names.

  Bill said that he may be able to find work for my two brothers. He was a Master Plumber and taught plumbing two nights a week at the Perth Technical School. He had his own business in Perth, doing contract plumbing, and he said that he might be able to use my brothers on this contract work. He would see what he could do. He then turned to me and said, ‘I’m afraid you are too young to be considered for the work I have to offer, but we may be able to find some light work for you, such as a messenger boy or something like that. I am not allowed to employ anyone under sixteen years old.’