Clothes hung from nails on a timber pole that held up the roof. Furniture had been made from packing crates and scrap timber. There was no electricity. Instead, candles were stuck in glass bottles scattered around the room while a glass kerosene lamp stood in the centre of the table beside a pile of chipped enamel plates and mugs, and a jar of cheery geraniums.
It was very crowded with everyone inside. The sun beating down on the tin roof, together with the cooking fire, made the little hut feel uncomfortably hot. Claire felt a sharp itch on her leg. She looked down and realised that several tiny black insects were hopping on her legs – fleas. She flicked them away quietly but in a moment they were back.
Jem pulled some presents out of his rucksack to distribute among the children: glass marbles, a cricket ball, two tin whistles and a packet of boiled lollies. For his mother, there was food: three apples, a bag of raisins, a large tin of corned beef and another tin of strawberry jam. The children exclaimed at the sight of the presents, chattering with enormous delight.
While the children were taking turns blowing the whistles and rolling marbles down the table, Jem slipped a small calico bag into his mother’s hand. ‘And a few shillings to help you out.’
Mrs Bates cupped his face with the palm of her hand. ‘Bless you, Jem. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
Jem flushed. ‘It’s nothing, Mum. I just want to know that you and the kids are all right.’
‘Of course, we’re fine,’ she assured him as she packed the food offerings away on a shelf.
‘I’ll have a lot more for you next week when I sell my rabbit skins,’ Jem promised.
Mrs Bates sat down on the one proper chair. ‘Thank you. It certainly helps, dearest.’
Nancy made them all a mug of tea, sweetened with condensed milk. Claire sipped on hers slowly.
‘Tell us a story about the circus, Jem,’ begged Tibby. ‘You promised you would.’
‘Tell us ’bout the effalants,’ demanded Lizzie.
Jem grinned at her mispronunciation. ‘The elephants’ names are Elsie and Empress. You should see them playing cricket,’ Jem enthused. ‘Our Elsie would give the great Don Bradman a run for his money. I think she should be playing for Australia during the England tour.’
Jem stood up and mimed Elsie batting with her trunk.
‘Elsie’s favourite thing, though,’ Rosina added, ‘is to be cuddled. Elephants are very affectionate.’
‘You’ve never been kissed,’ joked Jem, ‘till you’ve been kissed by an elephant.’
Mrs Bates laughed out loud, but her laugh soon turned into a deep, hacking cough. She fumbled in her apron pocket for a rag and coughed into it.
‘Here, Mum,’ said Nancy, pouring her another cup of tea.
‘Are you sick, Mum?’ asked Jem. ‘I don’t like the sound of that cough.’
Mrs Bates shook her head. ‘Just a crumb that went down the wrong way.’ She took a few sips of her tea before changing the subject. ‘Why don’t we all go down to the beach for a picnic. The kids thought you might like a swim at the bay.’
Jem grinned. ‘Super idea. I haven’t swum in the sea for an age.’
Mrs Bates pulled the camp oven off the coals and opened the door. She pulled a cake out and wrapped it in a flour sack to carry to the beach.
The younger children raced ahead to show the way. Rosina was limping, so Claire walked beside her slowly, behind Jem and his mother. She could hear them talking.
‘How is everyone?’ asked Jem. ‘Have the kids been well?’
Mrs Bates coughed again into her rag. ‘Mostly well over summer, thank heavens,’ replied Mrs Bates when she had recovered her breath. ‘Although the scabies’ve been bad. In winter it’ll be harder.’
She stopped for a moment and leant over.
‘You look a bit thin, Mum. Have you been eating properly?’ Jem asked, examining his mother carefully.
‘We do all right,’ Mrs Bates assured him. ‘The fishermen sometimes give us a salmon that they can’t sell, the dairy donates milk, and of course we have the veggies and whatever I can get with the susso. Everyone shares what they can.’
Jem nodded.
‘And you?’ asked his mother, her voice softening. ‘How is the circus treating you?’
Jem pushed back his thick forelock of sandy hair. ‘It’s up and down like everywhere else, but at least I have a job.’
They scrambled over the last of the dunes and down onto the beach. The bay spread out before them, opening to the sea. Tiny waves lapped on the shore and the blue water sparkled in the sunlight. Behind them the dunes were covered in a low, green scrub that hid the shanty town from view. Jem’s brothers and sisters were already in their bathing costumes, shrieking and splashing in the water.
Claire, Rosina and Jem soon joined them, taking it in turns to get changed behind a handy bush. Claire loved the feeling of diving into the clean, cold water. However, the saltwater stung her legs. Back on the sand, she noticed that her legs were covered in tiny, red bites.
Mrs Bates sat down on the sand and watched the children play. After a swim, Billie and Freddie pestered Jem into a game of cricket. Everyone joined in, laughing and shouting as the ball was whacked all over the beach. Rosina could bat but she couldn’t run.
Jem took the bat for his turn. ‘Now watch the great Don score three hundred and thirty-four runs for Australia.’
The kids cheered. Tibby took the ball and bowled it straight at the driftwood stumps. Jem hit the ball high and began to run. Claire leapt and caught the ball in one hand.
‘Yes,’ she shouted, as she rolled in the sand. ‘The great Don out for a duck.’
After a boisterous game of cricket, everyone sat to eat the picnic. Mrs Bates had made a spicy raisin cake with lemon, cinnamon and nutmeg. Jem cut up the apples to share between everyone. The children ate slowly, making every crumb last as long as possible.
‘Mum, will you have a slice?’ asked Jem.
‘Oh, no thanks,’ Mrs Bates insisted. ‘I’m not hungry. I’ll have something to eat later.’
‘This is delicious, thanks, Mrs Bates,’ Claire enthused.
‘We call it a butterless, milkless, eggless cake,’ joked Mrs Bates, ‘although I did put a slurp of milk in this one.’
However, between ten people, there was very little of the cake or apples left over. The youngest children licked their fingers and picked up the few crumbs left in the bottom of the tin.
‘How are the Deacons?’ asked Jem. He turned to Rosina and Claire to explain. ‘They are our neighbours here in the valley. Archie Deacon was my best friend when I lived here. We went to school together until we were twelve.’
Mrs Bates rubbed her forehead. ‘Archie left home a few months ago looking for work. I think he’s up in Queensland somewhere. His mum had another baby in November.’
‘Another one?’ asked Jem. ‘That must be the ninth?’
Mrs Bates nodded as she suppressed another coughing fit and stared off into the bay. ‘The rich get richer and the poor get more babies,’ she quipped. ‘Not that I would give back any of mine for anything.’
Lizzie climbed into her mother’s lap and sucked her thumb. Mrs Bates kissed her tenderly on top of her head.
‘Jem, show us some of your circus tricks,’ Tibby begged. ‘What can you do now?’
Jem pretended to refuse but was finally convinced by his siblings. He took an enamel plate, cake tin and cricket ball and juggled them high in the air. He showed the kids how he could do flip-flaps, somersaulting from feet to hands to feet again. He walked on his hands and did cartwheels in a huge circle on the sand.
At last Jem stopped and bowed theatrically. Everyone clapped, cheered and whistled.
He turned to his mother with a sad smile. ‘Sorry, Mum, but we have to get the tram back. We have a long way to go.’
Mr
s Bates breathed in, twisting the rag between her fingers. Claire noticed that the damp cloth was flecked with blood.
‘Don’t go, Jem,’ called Tibby. ‘Stay and show us some more tricks.’
‘I want to see the monkeys,’ Nancy added. ‘I wish you’d brought Lula with you.’
‘It was too far to bring Lula on the tram,’ Rosina explained. ‘She would have been frightened of all the people. She’s happier at home with her monkey friends.’
‘I wish we could come to the circus and see you,’ whined Freddie. ‘I never seen a circus.’
‘Stop it – you know we can’t afford the tram fare,’ hissed Billie.
‘We could go in the billy cart we made out of an old packing case we found at the tip.’
‘That’s just stupid, Freddie. It’d take hours to get there by billie cart.’
‘Cut it out, lads. I’d love to take you to see my circus,’ Jem said to his youngest brother. ‘But why don’t I visit you again on Sunday, and then I can show you my chair-balancing act?’
‘It’s pretty amazing,’ Claire said. ‘I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw it.’
‘That would be wonderful, Jem, although I don’t want you smashing my only chair,’ said Mrs Bates.
‘I’ll build you another one, Mum,’ Jem promised.
Rosina stood up and dusted the sand off her legs. ‘If we don’t hurry we’ll be late and the ringmaster, Alfredo Sterling, will feed us to Sultan the lion. He is furious if anyone is ever late.’
Jem jumped to his feet. ‘Next time we come, remind me to tell you about the time Princess Rosina here saved a poor roustabout from being gobbled by Sultan and then single-handedly recaptured a runaway elephant.’
The children squealed with excitement.
‘Tell us now, Jem. Tell us now or I’ll tickle you to death,’ Tibby insisted.
‘All right then,’ Jem said. ‘Why don’t I tell you the story while we walk back to the tram. But not one interruption – do you hear me? – or you won’t have time to hear the ending.’
The children leapt to their feet in great excitement. Jem leant down to help his mother up. She stood, squeezing both his hands weakly in her own. Everyone dressed quickly then set off for the walk back to the tram stop.
Jem told the story of Sultan and Elsie’s escape on their first day in Sydney, adding lots of exaggerated detail and death-defying stunts. The tram trundled in just as they arrived back at La Perouse, and Jem finished the story from the running board as it started to move off. Tibby stared at Rosina in awe. Rosina winked back.
‘Make sure you all work hard at school,’ Jem admonished his siblings. ‘Bye, Mum. See you on Sunday.’
‘Thanks for having us, Mrs Bates,’ called Claire.
The kids ran along beside the tram, waving and yelling goodbye. Mrs Bates stood in the roadway, twisting her rag. She shaded her eyes and waved madly. As the tram turned the corner she turned away and wiped her eyes.
Claire sat down as the tram rocked and swayed. She scratched the itchy flea bites on her leg and thought about her day at Happy Valley. I can’t believe that Jem’s family is living in a hut made of scraps. I can’t believe that so many people are living in such desperate poverty. Nanna has never told me about her life during the Depression. Maybe the memories are just too painful.
12
Elephant Bath
The next day, Rosina declared it was bath day for the elephants. There was a tap on one side of the lot, on the wall beside the abandoned department store where everyone collected their water. Elsie went first.
Claire thought Elsie must know exactly what was happening because she pranced along, her trunk held high with anticipation. The elephant then cracked a leafy branch off a nearby tree with her trunk and used the plant to swish away annoying flies.
Rosina hopped along on her crutches. Claire carried a large galvanised iron tub filled with scrubbing brushes, a file and bottles of oil. They stopped on the grass next to the tap.
‘Down, Elsie,’ Rosina ordered, laying her crutches against the brick wall. Elsie dropped to her hindquarters then lowered her forelegs and rolled onto her side. She looked up at Claire with quick, intelligent eyes, and picked up a trunkful of dried leaves and grass. She blew it at Claire, as if to say ‘hurry up’. Claire laughed and tickled Elsie’s trunk.
Rosina turned on the water and sprayed Elsie with it playfully. Elsie trumpeted with excitement.
‘I’m on hose, you’re on scrubbing brush,’ Rosina said with a twinkle in her eyes.
‘I’ve never bathed an elephant before,’ Claire groaned. ‘What on earth do I have to do?’
Rosina directed the water all over Elsie’s back and legs.
‘When Elsie’s nice and wet, we pour this special soap on her skin, then you use the scrubbing brush to give her a really good massage.’
Claire squirted a long stream of soap down Elsie’s back. She then knelt down and used the scrubbing brush to lather the soap up. Elsie hurrumphed with pleasure.
‘The soap has lots of oil in it, which helps keep her skin moist and healthy,’ Rosina explained. ‘Use the scrubbing brush in a circular motion. It helps slough off the old skin, and she loves it.’
Fortunately Jem came along to help Claire – it was hard work scrubbing the huge elephant by herself.
Elsie had just rolled over so they could wash her other side when Jem noticed the black limousine pulling up at the front of the lot, beside the store.
‘Looks like company,’ he said darkly. ‘Your toff mate’s just arrived in his swanky car.’
Rosina looked up and smiled. ‘Perhaps he’s come to help us wash Elsie?’
‘That lad doesn’t look like he’s done a day’s work in his life. He’d get his pretty suit muddy.’
Kit wandered over, smiling. ‘Good morning, everyone. Elsie looks like she’s really enjoying that.’
Jem scrubbed harder. Claire sat back on her heels and said hello, enjoying the excuse to stretch her back. Rosina trickled water down Elsie’s face.
‘She loves playing in water,’ Rosina said. ‘Usually in the country we make sure we camp by a creek or river so the elephants can have plenty of time swimming and splashing. But here in the city we have to make do with a hose.’
‘I came to see how your knee was,’ Kit said. ‘Are you feeling better?’
‘It’s a bit sore today,’ Rosina confessed. ‘We went on a big expedition down to La Perouse yesterday by tram, but I performed in the ring last night. I still can’t do the bareback routine, but I could do most of the others.’
Claire remembered how horrified she’d been the night before to see Rosina in her Wild West act, swinging up and down from the ground to horseback and back again.
‘La Perouse?’ asked Kit. ‘What were you doing all the way down there?’
‘We went to visit Jem’s family,’ Claire replied. ‘They live in the camp at Happy Valley.’
Jem scowled at Claire. She flushed and started scrubbing again. He obviously didn’t want to talk about his family in front of Kit.
‘The unemployment camp?’ asked Kit. Claire thought there was a slight note of condescension in his voice.
Rosina washed away the suds covering Elsie’s hide. ‘Jem is supporting his mother and six brothers and sisters,’ she said quietly. ‘Without his wages, they’d be destitute. Even now, they barely have enough to eat.’
‘They’re fine,’ snapped Jem.
Kit looked at Jem with compassion and admiration. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Jem. That’s tough.’
Jem kept scrubbing in big circles. Elsie wound her trunk around his neck and blew down his shirt.
‘That looks like hard work,’ said Kit. ‘Can I help?’
Jem looked at Kit in his pale three-piece suit, white shirt, tie and hat.
‘You’re not really dre
ssed for it, mate,’ Jem snorted.
‘Easily fixed,’ Kit replied. He took his jacket, waistcoat and tie off and hung them on a piece of metal jutting out of the brick wall like a coat hook. He balanced his hat on top, rolled up his sleeves and patted Elsie on her side. ‘Pass me a brush?’
Kit sank back on his heels and started scrubbing, copying Claire’s technique.
‘I was thinking about your knee, Rosina, and the bridge opening on Saturday.’ Kit paused, looking down at Elsie’s wrinkled hide. ‘I wondered if you’d like to come along with me to the opening celebrations. As one of the organisers, my father is hosting a few people right near the official dais, so we’ll get a good view of the parade and the ceremony.’
He glanced up at Rosina before continuing. ‘I could pick you up in the car to save you trying to walk. There will be hundreds of thousands of people in the streets.’
A look of longing crossed Rosina’s face, but she shook her head. ‘Thanks, Kit. Claire, Jem and I had planned to go together. We’ll leave early and hope we get a good spot.’
Kit glanced at Jem in his working outfit of dirty trousers, faded blue shirt and suspenders, then at Claire in sodden jodhpurs and muddy shirt. He smiled at Rosina.
‘My apologies – of course the invitation was for all of you,’ Kit assured them. ‘Actually, we’re also hosting a ball in the evening, which I hoped you all could come to. Our house is at Kirribilli on the waterfront, so we’ll have a terrific view of the fireworks and the Venetian carnival.’
Jem glowered as he scrubbed Elsie’s feet. Claire’s heart leapt. She would love to see Kit’s house and spend some more time with him.
‘That sounds like fun,’ Claire said quickly before Jem could raise any objections.
Rosina took a small tub of Vaseline from the bucket and dabbed it around Elsie’s eyes. She glanced from Claire to Jem. Jem refused to meet her eyes.
‘Thank you, Kit,’ Rosina said. ‘We’d love to come.’
Kit nodded and smiled. ‘Wonderful. I’ll come and pick you up with the car at about eight o’clock. Bring all your clothes for the ball. You might as well get ready at my house to save you coming back here.’
The Sequin Star Page 12
