Authors: Anna Jacobs

Freedom's Land (26 page)

BOOK: Freedom's Land

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He nodded and drew himself taller. He was a reliable lad, older than his years in some ways, perhaps because of his mother’s death, and very protective of his younger brother.

She wished they got on better with their stepsister.

Janie hadn’t even come back to see how Andrew was and Norah felt angry about that.

One of the women from the second group of arrivals, a family they’d not had much to do with, came across after milking with a bowl of stew for her and Pete.

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ she asked.

‘No. But this is very welcome. It’s kind of you to think of us.’

‘Well, if you need me or my husband, remember we’re happy to help. I’ll cook some tea for you tomorrow as well, if you like.’

‘Thank you. You could take the rest of the tin of meat that I’ve got open. It needs using up. And there are some potatoes.’ She knew the family hadn’t much money. The encounter warmed her as she continued her vigil. She forced some stew down to keep up her strength, but let Pete eat most of it.

The hours ticked slowly past. Pete wasn’t a talker and went to bed early. She refilled the hot-water bottles round Andrew when they grew cool and tried not to despair as the hours crawled past and her husband didn’t move. It was cold and she sat with a blanket round her, but she couldn’t lie down, had to keep watch, had to.

Surely Andrew would wake soon? She’d never heard of someone being unconscious for such a long time, wished desperately that they weren’t so far from a proper hospital here. She and Janie were so healthy, she’d not really thought about that aspect of coming here, and even if she had, she’d not realised how far the distances were between towns in Australia – if you could call such small places towns!

What was keeping Gil? Norah kept listening for the sound of his cart, but heard only frogs and a boobook owl calling somewhere. She was glad to have Pete staying with her, just in case, though there was not much he could do. He offered to spell her on watching Andrew so that she could get some sleep, only she didn’t want to sleep.

Maybe she’d be able to sleep tomorrow night if – no,
when
Andrew was awake.

She picked up his hand and raised it to her lips. The flesh was warm still, breath was coming and going from his nostrils – she kept checking that. It was proof that he was still with her.

Please
, she prayed over and over,
let him stay alive. I’ve only just started to love him.

When he left Norah, Gil drove the cart into Northcliffe, spoke to the nurse, who had a very sick child under her care, then got a lift to Pemberton. He knew the doctor had a motor car and would bring him back, otherwise he’d find someone else who could help him. People always rallied round in emergencies.

But when he got to the town, he found that the doctor was out at a farm dealing with a difficult birth and wouldn’t be back until the early hours, or even later.

In fact, it was six o’clock in the morning before the doctor returned. Gil, who’d been sleeping on his veranda, stood up to greet him and explain why he was there.

The doctor sighed wearily. ‘You were right not to move him. Give me time to get a quick wash and something to eat, then I’ll drive back with you.’

‘I could do the driving, if you like, and you could get a bit of rest.’

‘Good idea.’

It was nine o’clock before they got to the Boyds’ farm. Gil was praying that Andrew would have woken, but when Pete came to the door and shook his head slightly, he realised his friend was still unconscious, even before they went inside the humpy.

The doctor checked Andrew carefully, approved what Gil had done to the arm, then moved away from the bed and gestured to them to follow him. He went outside and hesitated, looking at Norah.

‘Is he dying?’ she asked, unable to wait a second longer to find out.

‘I hope not. But I try not to discuss such things in front of unconscious patients, ever since one who recovered told me he’d heard every word that was said within his hearing while he was unconscious, and proved it too.’

‘Oh.’

‘I won’t conceal from you that we’re fairly helpless with this sort of injury. And the longer Mr Boyd remains unconscious, the less chance he has of recovering fully.’

She wasn’t aware that she was wringing her hands till he reached out to still them.

‘On the other hand, your husband is clearly a strong, healthy man in his prime, and this is an accident, not an illness, so it’s far too soon to give up hope.’

‘What must I do?’

‘What you’re doing already. Keep him clean and warm – and pray. I’ll come back in two days’ time. I’m sorry I can’t come sooner, but I have other patients. I don’t even have another nurse I can send to help you.’

‘I can do what’s necessary for him.’

‘Don’t forget to get some sleep yourself. You’ll need all your strength once he recovers.’

‘What about his arm?’

‘Mr Matthews has done what’s necessary. He’s a sound fellow, your foreman. Keep the arm splinted for a week or two. Nature does a wonderful job of healing broken bones as long as they’re put back into the right position. Just leave her to get on with it. It’s the head injury that’s more serious.’

When his car had driven away she went back to Andrew’s side, to find that Gil had taken Pete’s place.

‘You need to sleep,’ he said abruptly.

She nodded, feeling the stress of the long, anxious night catching up with her.

‘I gather the children are being cared for?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll keep an eye on the cows and chooks, see that the children are managing. And Norah?’

She turned.

‘Don’t give up hope.’

She dredged up a ghost of a smile because he was being kind. But no kindness could take away the sick worry about Andrew that went with her to bed and kept her awake for a while, tired as she was.

When Norah woke in the early afternoon, she found that Irene was sitting with Andrew and Janie was by her side.

‘There’s no change, I’m afraid,’ her friend said.

With a quick smile at Janie, Norah went to check on Andrew herself.

‘Gil’s gone to organise the men’s work for the next day or two,’ Irene said. ‘Then he’s coming back to help you.’

Janie came to stand closer to her mother and Norah hugged her absent-mindedly but her attention was mainly on that still figure and she put her daughter gently aside. ‘Not now, love.’

When she went outside to relieve herself, Janie followed. She hadn’t asked about her stepfather, or expressed any anxiety, just hovered.

Before Norah went back inside, she told Janie to go and check on her pet chook, then went to take Irene’s place by the bed. ‘Thanks for looking after Janie. Did she behave herself?’

‘Yes. She was no trouble at all.’

‘She isn’t when she’s away from her stepbrothers. I don’t know how to make that girl see that we’re one family now and she has to be part of it.’

‘I know. But she has been worried about him, Norah.’

‘Has she? Or was she worried about what would happen to us without him?’

‘From what you’ve told me, she’s had a lot of losses for a child that age,’ Irene said gently. ‘I think she’s frightened of having to face another set of changes.’

Norah wasn’t sure about that. She didn’t feel sure about anything at the moment.

At her friend’s urging she had something to eat and drink, bread and jam which seemed utterly tasteless, and a cup of tea which grew cold because she forgot to drink it. In the end, because she was vaguely thirsty, she gulped down the cold liquid.

Then she sent a protesting Janie back with Irene and continued sitting beside Andrew. She talked to him, explaining what was happening, assuring him she’d be there when he woke up. His arm was only a simple fracture, the doctor said, and would be all right in a few weeks.

Gil came in while she was doing this and nodded approvingly.

He didn’t bother her, but sat quietly to one side. Strange, she thought, how Gil seemed almost one of the family now.

The second night passed even more slowly than the first. She kept watch for part of it, slept for the rest, trusting Gil more than she trusted anyone else.

I
rene served the evening meal and looked at Janie, who was picking at her food. ‘Eat up, dear. It’ll do your father no good if you starve yourself.’

‘He’s not my father.’

It was a statement she often made, but Irene thought Janie sounded far less certain this time.

Freddie looked at the girl in disgust. ‘Of all the ungrateful brats! Of course he’s your father now that he’s married your mother.’

Irene tried to shush him, because this was no time to be scolding the girl, but he ignored her.

‘Who do you think is paying for the bread you put into your mouth every day?’ he went on. ‘Andrew is.’

Janie continued to stare at him mutely, her eyes wide and frightened.

‘Who’s providing the roof over your head?’ Freddie went on. ‘Well, answer me? Who?’ When he got no answer, he thrust his face closer and said even more loudly, ‘Your
father
, that’s who.’

Irene tugged at his sleeve for the second time. ‘Leave her alone. She’s upset.’

He shook his wife’s hand off. ‘Upset about his accident or about being away from her mummy? I’m fed up with people making excuses for her. She’s an ungrateful brat, that’s what she is, and she’d feel the back of my hand if she were mine.’

Janie burst into tears and ran out of the humpy into the darkness.

‘You’re a brute!’ Irene threw at her husband and hurried after the child. She didn’t see Janie at first and stopped to stare anxiously around as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. Then she heard a muffled sob and moved round the side of the house to find the girl leaning against the wall, sobbing in a despairing way.

‘Come here. No, don’t pull away. You’re upset. Let me hold you.’

Gradually Janie relaxed against her and the tears slowed down. ‘I want to go home. I don’t like Australia.’

‘You will like it once you get used to it. And if you were nicer to them, people would like you, of course they would.’ Irene prayed Freddie wouldn’t come and interrupt them. She’d thought for a while that what Janie really needed was friends her own age, or someone outside the family to talk to. There were no other little girls of Janie’s age in the group, and at that age, a year or two made a big difference.

‘What don’t you like about it?’ she asked when the silence continued.

Words poured out of the child like a dam bursting its walls, and it was what Irene had expected: no aunts or grandma here, no friends, two stepbrothers who banded together against her, a man she didn’t know taking her place with her mother.

And most of all, it seemed to the listener, the child didn’t know how to stop being unhappy and start accepting the new life.

A bit like Freddie.

Irene made soothing noises and let Janie get it off her chest. ‘It’s very different here,’ she said at last when Janie fell silent, ‘so it may take some time for you to get used to it. But if it’s any help, I’ve left my nieces and nephews back in England and I miss them. I liked being an auntie. Maybe I could be your auntie now and you could be my niece? Would you like that?’

Janie was quiet for so long, Irene began to wonder if she’d said the right thing. Then the child said in a tight little voice, ‘You won’t want to. Everyone hates me here.’

‘Nonsense. Your mother loves you and Andrew wants to love you too, but you won’t let him.’

‘He doesn’t.’

‘You’re wrong. He’s a kind man. Haven’t you noticed how he helps people? Don’t you think he wants to help you too?’

‘He can’t now. He’s going to die and then we won’t have a home any more. We didn’t have a home after Granddad died. That’s why Mum married
him
and came here.’ She shivered, and not from the cold.

‘Your stepfather’s not going to die. Your mother won’t let him. She loves him too much.’

‘She doesn’t love me any more, she only loves him.’

‘Of course she loves you. You can love lots of people at the same time.’

Janie digested this for a few minutes, then said uncertainly, ‘Can you?’

‘Of course you can. I come from a big family and Mam loves every single one of us, all her grandchildren too.’

Irene stayed outside talking until they were both shivering in the cold, damp night air, because she didn’t trust Freddie not to interfere if she tried to have this important conversation in his presence. But in the end, she guided the little girl inside, persuading Janie to lie down on the makeshift bed.

Freddie scowled at Irene. ‘You’ll catch your death of cold standing outside in weather like this. In my opinion that child needs a good smacking, not somebody being soft with her.’

She rounded on him then. ‘If that’s the sort of father you’re going to be, one who smacks unhappy children, I dread to think what our family life is going to be like.’

‘So do I. You must be as fertile as your damned mother to have got yourself pregnant after all the care I’ve taken.’

Irene glared at him. ‘It takes two people to make a baby!’

‘Yes, but which two? I’ve been as careful as a man can be. Maybe you’ve been meeting someone else. You’re always off talking to other people instead of staying home waiting for me.’

Irene was so taken aback by this accusation, she could hardly breathe for a minute or two. She gaped at him, seeing a bitter twist to his mouth and no signs of the love that usually warmed his gaze. She might be able to help this unhappy child, but nothing she said or did seemed to help Freddie.

‘Well?’ he shouted when she didn’t speak. ‘I haven’t heard you deny it.’

‘Shh now!’ she said with a glance at the child.

‘To hell with her. Answer my question. Have you been with someone else?’

BOOK: Freedom's Land

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