‘Ouch,’ said Sally, rubbing her ankle. ‘You don’t believe what?’
‘Ruby just told me she’s leaving school at the end of next week,’ Marjorie answered, looking important because she was first with the news.
‘No!’ exclaimed Violet. ‘Oh, how awful!’
‘Do say it’s not true, Ruby!’ said Thelma.
‘It is true,’ Ruby answered. Watching her friends’ horrified expressions, she felt almost heroic. ‘I have to leave school because we can’t afford it. We have to sell our house, too. Dad’s business has gone bankrupt.’
‘So that’s what Brenda told Lizzie,’ said Sally. ‘I mean –’ She stopped, looking embarrassed.
‘But we’ll miss you so much, Ruby Q!’ Marjorie said. ‘Can’t someone else pay for you to stay here? Don’t you have rich grandparents, or a rich auntie or something?’
‘There isn’t anyone else. My gran isn’t rich, and she’s really old, and my only auntie is Aunt Vera, my cousin May’s mother. May was at my party, remember? They live in the country, and they’re as poor as church mice, Mother says.’
‘What’s happening?’ Brenda asked, joining the little group outside the classroom.
‘Poor Ruby Q has to leave school,’ Thelma said, making a sad mouth.
‘I knew it,’ Brenda said. ‘Her father’s business has gone broke. Mama told me about it two days ago, but I couldn’t say anything.’
‘You are such a fibber, Brenda,’ Ruby said. ‘Of course you said something. You told Lizzie, didn’t you? And then she wrote that horrid note to Sally, and the whole class heard it.’
‘I meant I couldn’t say anything to you,’ Brenda said, looking flustered. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. Mama said it was bound to happen, because your father always spent money like water. My father tried to tell him –’
Ruby felt a great wave of fury. But then, to her relief, the bell ringing for assembly stopped Brenda in her tracks.
All the girls in Ruby’s class were especially friendly to her all day. Sally kept giving her sorrowful looks. Lizzie offered to lend Ruby her new pencil sharpener. One of the new girls, Betsy Hargraves, gave her a piece of cake with lemon icing at recess.
It’s as if I’ve got some sort of disease, Ruby realised, as she made her way home in the afternoon. They’re being nice to me because they feel sorry for me, but also because they think that if they’re nice to me they won’t catch what I’ve got.
She wondered how Hilary had felt when she was told that she’d have to leave this school and go to another one. Maybe it would have been easier not to come back from the holidays – just to vanish, as Hilary had done. She wondered which state school Hilary had gone to. Nobody knew. Nobody talked about Hilary anymore.
Then Ruby had another thought, a nicer one this time. If she had to go to a state school, why couldn’t she go to the same school as Hilary? That wouldn’t be so bad! It might even be fun. She’d ask Dad to drive her around to Hilary’s house, and then she could find out which school she was going to. It would be good to see Hilary again. She would understand what Ruby was going through.
A voice cut across her thoughts. ‘Hello, Ruby!’ It was Brenda. ‘Can I walk with you?’
‘If you want to.’
Brenda linked arms with Ruby. ‘It’s just awful, what’s happened, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘I’m so glad Daddy will be all right – I mean, he hasn’t gone broke like your father. I suppose it’s because Uncle Harry owns the company, and Daddy just works for him, so he’s not responsible for paying back any money, thank goodness. Anyway, Daddy’s found another job already. Isn’t that marvellous?’
‘I’m glad. You’re lucky.’
‘Oh yes, Mama says we’re very lucky. She also asked me to ask you something.’ She blinked at Ruby through her spectacles. ‘I hope you won’t be offended, but, well, when you leave school, Mama wondered if we could have your old school uniforms. New uniforms are awfully expensive, Mama says, especially blazers, and these days we have to economise. Your uniforms would fit me, and they could last me for at least another year, because you’re taller than me. You won’t be needing them anymore, will you?’ She giggled. ‘Mama says that you’re a nice clean little girl, so she wouldn’t be worried about them being dirty or, well, having bugs in them, or anything like that.’
‘What?’ Ruby stared at her, horrified.
Brenda tightened her hold on Ruby’s arm. ‘Oh, we’d pay you for them. Not as much as for new ones, of course, but Mama wouldn’t hear of just taking them.’
‘Brenda, listen to me,’ said Ruby. ‘I promise you, I will never ever sell you my school uniforms. I’d rather burn them.’ And she broke away from Brenda and began to run. She didn’t stop running until she reached the end of the drive and heard the familiar cry: ‘Ruby Quinlan! Where are your gloves?’
As she opened the front door, Ruby nearly ran straight into two men leaving the house. She was shocked to see that one of them was a policeman in uniform. She rushed inside and found Dad and Mother in the sitting room. Mother was smoking, which was something she hardly ever did, and her eyes looked puffy. Had she been crying? Four empty cups, and an ashtray full of cigarette butts, were on the low table in front of the sofa. The visitors must have been here for a while.
‘Why was the policeman here?’ Ruby asked. Then she had a horrible thought. ‘Oh my hat, we haven’t been robbed, have we?’
‘No, nothing like that,’ said Dad. His face was very pale, but he spoke quite steadily. ‘It’s just something to do with the business. They had to ask me some questions. Nothing that need concern you, sweetheart.’
‘Oh, good. I thought something else awful might have happened.’ She sat down in an easy chair, facing the sofa. ‘I’ve decided,’ she said, ‘that it would be quite good – very good – if I could go to the same school as Hilary Mitchell. I just need to find out which one it is. It would be so much nicer if I could go to a school where I know someone, wouldn’t it? And Hilary’s my friend.’
‘Sweetheart, the truth is –’
‘Ruby, I’m afraid –’
Dad and Mother spoke at the same time. Looking at their faces, so full of anxiety and concern, Ruby’s heart plummeted. ‘You’ve already decided where I’ll be going,’ she said. ‘Haven’t you?’
‘Yes, Ruby, we have,’ replied her mother. ‘But we only decided today.’
‘We had a letter this morning from your Aunt Vera,’ Dad said. ‘We – your mother and I – had written to her and your Uncle James, and we were waiting for their response. We needed to be sure of everything before we spoke to you.’
Dad sounded so serious and formal that Ruby’s heart sank even further.
‘On the twenty-seventh of March,’ Dad continued, ‘you and your mother will go to stay with the Camerons on their farm at Eden Valley. They have very kindly agreed to help us out while we are in this . . . trouble.’
‘Mother and me? But, Dad, what about you? Where are you going?’ Ruby could feel tears starting. ‘I don’t want to go anywhere if you aren’t coming too!’
Dad put his hand on hers. ‘I’ll stay here until the house is sold, and then I’ll look for a job. I’ll find somewhere to live, either here or interstate.’
‘But what if you don’t find a job?’
Ruby saw her parents exchange glances. ‘You mustn’t worry about me,’ Dad said, using his deliberately cheerful voice. ‘The important thing is that you and your mother have a place to go to. As long as I know that you two are safe and well looked after, I can put up with anything.’
There was a lengthy silence.
‘How long will we have to stay with Aunt Vera?’ Ruby asked, shakily.
‘Not for very long, sweetheart. But while you are there, you will go to the local school. You’ll be in the same class as your cousin May.’
‘I HAVE good news,’ Dad said two nights later, as they were sitting down to tea. ‘We don’t have to put the house up for auction.’
Ruby’s h
eart leaped. ‘Oh, Dad, that’s wonderful!’ she cried. ‘Does that mean we won’t have to sell it after all?’
One look at her father’s face told her the truth. ‘We still have to sell the house, sweetheart,’ Dad said. ‘I’m sorry if I misled you. I’ve had an offer from someone who wants to buy it, and I’ve accepted.’
‘But who?’ asked Mother.
‘Donald Walker,’ Dad said. ‘Yes’ – he held his hand up for silence – ‘I know it’s a surprise. But he made me a very reasonable offer.’
‘How much?’ Mother asked. Her face was so full of hope that Ruby could hardly bear to look at it.
‘Two thousand pounds.’
‘Oh, Harry.’ Mother sagged back in her chair. ‘It’s worth much more than that. Three thousand, at least.’
‘I know, Winifred. But Don’s offer saves us all the rotten business of the auction, and the agent’s fees, and the nuisance of having to wait. It’s quick and clean.’ He hesitated. ‘For another two hundred pounds he’s offered to take quite a lot of our furniture, too. They don’t have very much of their own, so it’s a splendid opportunity for them.’
‘What about our other possessions?’ Mother looked shaken. ‘China, jewellery, paintings? What about our clothes?’
‘I’m sure we won’t have to sell our clothes. I don’t know about the rest. Don will select what he wants, I expect. It’s all in the hands of the official receiver, the person who deals with bankrupt estates. He’ll tell us what we have to do.’
Ruby couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Dad, does that mean Brenda will be sleeping in my bed?’
‘Perhaps. Will that matter so very much? It won’t be your bed anymore.’
‘It will matter. It will matter a lot.’ Ruby knew she was being difficult, but she didn’t care. ‘Brenda is the very last person I’d want to have any of my things.’ Then an even worse thought came to her. ‘What about my camera? And what about Baxter? I won’t let Brenda have Baxter! I couldn’t bear it! I’ll run away with him!’
Dad laughed, but it was a sad sort of laugh. ‘Of course you can keep some personal things, Ruby. And nobody is going to take Baxter away from you.’
‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’
Ruby sighed deeply. ‘That’s all right then. But Brenda isn’t having any of my clothes, and especially not my school uniforms!’
For Ruby’s last day at school her friends brought party food to share at lunchtime. Thelma and Violet brought chicken sandwiches, Marjorie brought slices of left-over Christmas fruit cake with almond paste and thick white icing, and Sally brought Cherry Ripe chocolate bars for afterwards. Brenda didn’t bring anything special, but donated her cheese sandwiches and two scones.
Ruby could hardly look at Brenda. Just the thought of Brenda sleeping in her bedroom, perhaps even in her bed, made her hot with anger. But nothing seemed to bother Brenda. She joined in singing ‘For she’s a jolly good fellow’ with the others, and gave Ruby a hug, although Ruby couldn’t quite give her a hugback.
All the teachers said kind things to her. ‘Don’t be downhearted, Ruby,’ Miss Muirhead said cheerily. ‘Worse things happen at sea.’ Even Miss Macdonald came to say goodbye.
The hands on the clock over the blackboard inched their way to half past three, the bell rang, and Miss Fraser dismissed the class. In groups and pairs the girls clattered out of the classroom, waving to Ruby, wishing her luck and blowing kisses. ‘Goodbye, Ruby Q!’ Marjorie sang as she skipped out the door. ‘You will write, won’t you?’
In the sudden silence of the empty room, Ruby felt unbearably lonely. As she packed her books and pencils into her satchel, tears started to trickle from her eyes and drip from her nose. She felt in her blazer pocket for a handkerchief but couldn’t find one. She wiped her face with both hands, and sniffed.
‘Ruby.’
Ruby looked up.
‘Yes, Miss Fraser?’
A cool, folded handkerchief was pushed into her hand. ‘It’s not the end of the world, Ruby, although it may seem so right now. You’ll miss this school at first, but you will enjoy your next school, I’m sure. Do you know where you will be going?’
‘It’s a place called Eden Valley.’ Ruby blew her nose. ‘You won’t know it. It’s in the country.’
‘And you have friends there, do you? Relatives?’
‘Yes.’ Ruby began to cry again at the thought of living with these relatives she hardly knew. May, Aunt Vera, Uncle James – what did they mean to her? Nothing. ‘Miss Fraser, I wish I didn’t have to go away! I wish everything could be the way it used to be!’
‘Oh, Ruby.’ Her teacher pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘I know all this must be overwhelming for you. But, my dear, you must never give up. Things will improve. I can tell you that from my own experience.’
Ruby tried to gulp back her tears. ‘It doesn’t feel to me as if anything will ever get better.’
‘It will, though. Perhaps you know that I was engaged once before – before I became engaged to Mr Kennedy. My fiancé died in the Great War, at the battle of Dernancourt. Have you heard of it?’
‘No, Miss Fraser. At least, I don’t think so.’
‘Well. It was – let me see – almost exactly thirteen years ago. When I received the news that he had been killed, I thought I’d die too. I was just twenty-two years old, and I was sure I’d never be happy again. All my dreams were shattered. But in time I found another dream, and that one did come true. So, Ruby, remember this: there is no night so dark that the morning never comes. The sun will always rise. Always.’
As Ruby thought about that, she felt the tiniest glimmer of hope. She blew her nose again, and returned the handkerchief. ‘Yes, Miss Fraser. Thank you, Miss Fraser.’
‘Are you all packed up?’
‘Nearly, Miss Fraser.’
‘Well then. Goodbye, my dear, and good luck.’ Miss Fraser smiled, and to Ruby her smile, so rarely seen, was very sweet. ‘I shan’t forget you, Ruby Q.’
‘I won’t forget you either, Miss Fraser.’
Feeling just a little bit better, Ruby left her classroom. Down the sun-dappled drive she walked, past the smooth green oval where girls were doing hockey practice, and up to the big stone gateway.
And then, without her hat, without her gloves, Ruby walked away from her school forever.
My great-grandfather on my father’s side was a farmer in Somerset, England. In 1856 he emigrated to South Australia, making his home in a beautiful place called Eden Valley. One of his nine children was my grandfather. He was a farmer, too, and so was my father. My brother and I grew up on the family farm. Its paddocks and orchards, its gum trees and its winding creek were our playground.
I loved the little local school I went to for seven years, but when I was twelve I had to leave home to go to a different school. Unlike Ruby, who moves from the city to the country, I moved from the country to the city. I live in the city now, but I still think of Eden Valley as home.
I was born and grew up in Italy, a beautiful country to visit, but also a difficult country to live in for new generations.
In 2006, I packed up my suitcase and I left Italy with the man I love. We bet on Australia. I didn’t know much about Australia before coming – I was just looking for new opportunities, I guess.
And I liked it right from the beginning! Australian people are resourceful, open-minded and always with a smile on their faces. I think all Australians keep in their blood a bit of the pioneer heritage, regardless of their own birthplace.
Here I began a new life and now I’m doing what I always dreamed of: I illustrate stories. Here is the place where I’d like to live and to grow up my children, in a country that doesn’t fear the future.
WHEN the first world war ended in 1918, people thought their lives could only get better. They built houses, bought new cars, and lived well. But by October 1929, when America’s Wall Street money market failed, the good times were already coming to an end. The Wall Street crash
was the official start of what was later called ‘the Great Depression’. People lost their jobs, shops and businesses closed, and millions all around the world were plunged into poverty.
Australia’s economy was greatly affected by what was happening in other countries. It was made even worse by low prices for wool and wheat, and by drought. By 1932 one in three of all working Australians were unemployed. Men often left home to look for work, moving from place to place, sleeping rough. In poorer families children left school at the age of 13 or14 to take up low-paid jobs. Government ration cards allowed unemployed people to buy basic foods like tea, sugar, rice and oatmeal, and some also worked for a small amount of sustenance money known as the ‘susso’ or the ‘dole’.
South Australia suffered more than the other states. Most jobs in Adelaide were in industry or the building trades, and these were the areas worst hit. In the mid-1920s about3000 new homes were being built each year: by 1931 this number had dropped to 50.
Australians often couldn’t afford things like new clothes, and sometimes they didn’t have enough to eat. Many people who lived through those years remained careful with food and money for the rest of their lives.
A Merry Christmas
In spite of the Depression, Christmas was still a happy time for most families, and the big department stores did their festive best to attract customers.
The Father Christmas from Moore’s advertisement in the Adelaide Mail on December 20, 1930 doesn’t look much like today’s popular Santa Claus. The now universal image of the jolly old white-bearded man in a red suit didn’t exist until 1931.
5 QUESTIONS FOR PENNY MATTHEWS, AUTHOR OF THE NELLIE AND RUBY BOOKS
Meet Ruby Page 5
