Freedom's Land (39 page)

‘The turn to my place is just round the bend, to the right,’ Gil said. He hadn’t let the driver turn into the camp ground, because his anxiety to see his home was all he could focus on.

The truck edged forward slowly, weaving in and out of tumbled branches and trunks. Twice they’d had to stop to move a fallen, half-burned tree trunk, using the jack as a lever. He could have got off and walked as fast as this, but the truck was loaded with his and Irene’s things.

As they left the main track and bumped up the hill to his place, he saw that his house was still standing. The fire had gone through further down the slope, but where he lived was green still. ‘Oh, thank goodness!’ he exclaimed in a voice choked with relief. ‘Thank bloody goodness!’

Billy looked at him. ‘Your place looks all right, mate. You’re lucky.’

‘Yes.’ As he glanced back along the main track, he noticed two figures approaching from the burned part. ‘Stop!’ He was off the truck and running towards her before the driver finished braking. ‘Norah! How have you and Andrew fared?’

‘Oh, Gil, I’m so glad you’re back.’

She clutched his hands so tightly, he was terrified for a moment or two. ‘No one’s hurt?’

‘No. The house is all right, but we’ve lost all our outbuildings, every single one. I was caught at the farm and Andrew had to wait out the fire at the camp ground. The children and I just kept wetting everything down.’

He could guess how hard that had been. ‘What about your stock?’

‘We drove them into the garden. They’re alive but hungry. Andrew’s rebuilding the fences now, fetching poles from the unburned bush along the track. Only a few hundred yards and the fire would have missed us. It was only a spur fire, not the main one. No one else got hit so badly.’ She snapped her mouth shut, a bleak look on her face.

He bit back a curse at the unkindness of fate. ‘Where are you going now?’

‘To the store. We need stock feed and other things. I was hoping Pete would give me a lift back with them on your cart. We’ll have to milk in the open till he can build us another cowshed. Good thing the weather is warmer.’

‘We’ll go up to my house and I’ll lend you a few things to start you off.’ He shoved her and Janie into the cab of the truck, and clung to the back as it jolted up the slope.

At his house, he checked that everything was all right, which it was apart from the smell of smoke and drifts of ash here and there. With the driver’s help, he lugged all his things inside, then turned back to Norah. ‘What do you need most?’

‘I’ve got a list.’

‘Good. Give it me and I’ll get them for you, then I’ll bring them out to you myself.’

He turned to the other man. ‘Will you take her home with these things then come back for me and take me into town to buy what they need, Billy?’

‘We can’t ask you to do all that,’ she said quickly, conscious of Andrew’s pride.

Gil grinned at her. ‘Try stopping me.’

The driver grinned at her too. ‘Same goes for me, missus. I’m my own boss and if a man can’t help someone after a bush fire, he’s as worthless as teats on a bull!’

When the truck chugged up to the house, Andrew came running out.

‘Norah! Is something wrong?’

Janie slid out of the cab and she followed. ‘No. Quite the opposite. I met Gil on the way into town and he lent me some things. He said he’d go into town and buy the rest for us.’

Andrew’s expression brightened and he helped them unload.

Only when the driver had left did he think to ask, ‘How did Gil get on in Freo?’

‘I forgot to ask him. It can’t be good news or he’d have told me, surely?’

‘We’d better not say anything about Irene, unless he does.’ He looked down at the pile of clean buckets and bowls. ‘Well, let’s get those poor beasts milked. At least we can do that properly now.’

He was, she could see, still grim-faced and trying to hide it. Sighing for his pain, she went into the house to start shaking the ash out of things and tidying up the children’s room. She was glad they still had their possessions. They’d lost a lot, but not everything.

If only Andrew didn’t lose the will to start again. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else now.

Armed with Norah’s shopping list, Gil went back into town, where he found his horse and cart behind the store and Pete inside buying hardware.

‘Where is everyone?’

‘Those who can be spared are cutting trees and making slabs. A couple of men are down at the timber mill getting what they can.’

‘For what?’

Pete looked at him as if he’d lost his wits. ‘To help the Boyds, of course. They were worst hit by the fire, so we’ll work on their place first, build them a few sheds. The others only lost a few bits of fence.’

Gil felt a tide of warmth run through him. This was what it’d been like when he was growing up, neighbour helping neighbour through the bad times. He hadn’t expected the group to reach this stage so quickly, but the news only made him more certain he wanted to put down roots in this community.

‘Let’s go through the details,’ he said brusquely to cover his feelings. ‘Oh, and this is Billy. He’s volunteered to help us take the stuff out to the Boyds’ farm.’

Pete immediately shook Billy’s hand and slapped him on the back. ‘Good man, good man! I was going to have to make several journeys.’

‘I’ll go and ask that builder fellow if he can spare some dressed wood in a good cause,’ Gil said. He turned to the storekeeper. ‘I hope you’ll give us a good price on the stuff we’re buying. This is no time to be thinking of profit when a family’s lost so much.’

The man pursed his lips, then nodded. ‘Cost price.’

‘Thanks.’ Filled with determination, Gil went off to see what else he could scrounge for his friend.

Ned was the first to hear the truck coming back and went to fetch his father, who was felling some more small trees further down the track to use as fencing poles.

By the time they got back to the farm, not only was the truck parked outside the house, but the cart was just drawing to a halt and men were gathered round both vehicles. Other men could be seen in the distance, walking along the track towards his farm. Women too.

Janie came flying across to him. ‘Daddy, everyone’s coming to help us,’ she shouted. ‘All our friends.’

Norah had been talking to the driver, but turned to beam at her husband. ‘Isn’t it marvellous?’

‘Come and help us unload,’ Gil yelled from the rear of the truck. ‘There’s another load of timber to come out yet.’

Andrew couldn’t move. He’d never have asked, never. But he hadn’t needed to. Half their neighbours were there. Even as he looked there was a squeaking sound and Ted came up from the track pushing a handcart he’d built himself. It had been the cause of much teasing, with its solid wooden wheels made from a tree trunk and the squeak that no amount of oiling would stop.

Now, the cart was full of tools and small pieces of wood, the sort you needed for crosspieces or slats.

‘Thought you might like some help with the rebuilding,’ Ted said cheerfully. ‘We all had a few bits and pieces to spare.’

‘Good man!’ Gil said as Andrew seemed lost for words. ‘We’ll need to clear up the mess before we can make a start. Do you want the sheds in the same places?’

Andrew’s gulp was quite audible and Norah could see that he was fighting against tears, blinking furiously.

‘We’re so grateful for your help,’ she told Ted, to give her husband time to pull himself together.

‘We’ve money to pay for the timber.’ Andrew gestured to the pile that had been unloaded. His voice was rough, sounding almost ungracious.

‘They’ve given you the first load free,’ Gil said. ‘And the hardware at cost price. A couple of men are down the track, felling trees and splitting them into slabs for your shed walls. Your animals won’t complain about how green the wood is. Now, where do we build?’

‘In the same place,’ Andrew managed. ‘Thanks. I can’t—’ He broke off again.

One man nudged another and jerked his head. They walked over to the ruined cowshed and began knocking the remains of it down, heedless of the black dirt that flew everywhere.

Andrew pressed one hand against his mouth for a moment then took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know how to thank you enough.’

‘Argh, you’d do the same for us,’ someone said.

The men were fidgeting, seemed at a loss for what to say, embarrassed by the emotion, so Norah intervened again. ‘I’ll brew us all a big pot of tea. It’s thirsty work clearing up a mess like this.’ She had a former kerosene can that Andrew had converted into a square bucket. That’d do.

‘You’re right there, missus,’ someone called. ‘Make mine sweet and strong.’

‘My Pam’s coming over later to help you, soon as she’s finished at our place,’ Ted told her. ‘We’re all here for the rest of the day, so she’s bringing some food. She’s been cooking since dawn. Some of the other women will be along later, and they’ll be bringing food, too.’

The men exchanged jokes and mocking insults as they split up into pairs and found small trees for poles or felled bigger ones to make slabs. The milled timber soon started going up to frame the buildings again, and the second load the truck brought out from town contained some battered sheets of corrugated iron for roofing, pieces they’d been given for nothing.

The women helped Norah clear out the house and hang up the bedding and clothes that reeked of smoke. Some prepared food for the whole group of workers, others began to repair the damage to the garden, one took a gaggle of children to find wood for the fire in the unburnt bush, using the squeaking handcart to bring it back, again amid much laughter. And for once, no one scolded the children for dirtying their clothes.

Everyone worked as long as they could that day, some staying until it was too dark to place a nail correctly. They snatched something to eat now and then, not caring what it was, and they drank gallons of tea.

When they’d gone, there was only Gil left and a stew simmering on an open fire.

‘You’ll eat with us?’ Norah asked.

‘If you’ve enough.’

‘We’ve always enough for our friends.’

As she served the meal, she was unable to stop smiling. In this morning’s bleak mood, she hadn’t expected to feel so happy by evening. And Andrew was the same, she could see.

‘They’re good folk, our group,’ Gil said quietly as he and Andrew waited for Norah to sit at the table with them.

‘The best,’ Andrew said and blew his nose loudly.

When they’d finished eating, Gil stared down at his plate. ‘I’ve some news of my own to tell you.’

Norah exchanged worried glances with her husband. ‘You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. You don’t owe us any explanations.’

Gil leaned back in the chair they’d brought from England, the one Andrew usually sat in, smiling round at them all. ‘It’s good news. Don’t you want to hear it?’

‘Good news?’ Norah leaned forward eagerly.

‘Irene and I were married in Freo a couple of days ago.’

‘Married! You’re married! Oh, Gil.’ Norah got up and plonked a kiss on his cheek.

‘You married Auntie Irene?’ Janie asked. ‘Is she coming back here to live?’

‘She is indeed. She’ll be living with me and working with me on my farm.’

Janie clapped her hands together and cheered loudly. The boys nodded approval in a less demonstrative way.

‘So will the twins,’ Gil said when the noise had died down.

‘Twins?’
Everyone gaped at him.

He nodded. ‘Would you believe it, she’s had twins. Two little girls, called Jenny and Mary.’

‘That’s wonderful.’ It was Norah’s turn to mop her eyes.

When the meal was over, Andrew walked down to the main track to see his friend on his way. Pete had taken the horse and cart earlier because he would be fetching another load of newly felled timber the next day. Gil would send a message to Irene in Pemberton and arranged with the truck driver to fetch his wife and children home a day or two later.

The two men stopped at the entrance to the Boyds’ farm. Gil clapped Andrew on the back and they stared at one another for a minute, then nodded and went on their way. Good friends didn’t always need words.

25

G
il brought Irene home from Pemberton three days later. His friend Andrew was well on the way to being set up again on his farm. Now it was time for Gil to start his new life.

Irene was waiting for him, bright-eyed, so pretty his breath caught in his throat. He kissed her tenderly, then turned to cuddle the babies. ‘They’ve grown, even in a few days!’

‘Do you think so?’

‘I’m sure of it. They’re a pretty pair. I can see we’ll have all the lads round courting when they grow up.’

She laughed. ‘We’ve a little time before that happens. I’ve just fed them, so let’s get everything in the truck. With a bit of luck, we can get home before they need feeding again. And I’ve bought plenty of tins of baby milk powder.’

The sun was shining brightly, and his nostrils were filled not with the stink of charred wood, but with the fresh smell of her skin and hair. She said she didn’t use perfume, but she always smelled sweet to him. He’d buy her some perfume next Christmas, though. Lily of the valley, perhaps. No, that had been Mabel’s favourite. He’d ask Norah what else was nice.

As they jogged along, he thought about Mabel, fondly now, without the old desolation. She’d approve of his new family, he was sure. He looked at the woman in the front of the truck, sitting beside the driver, the babies crammed in at her feet in little nests of blanket and his heart skipped in his chest with joy.

An uneven patch of road had him clinging on in the back and laughing.

When they got to the shack, he and Irene each carried a baby into their new home. He stopped dead in surprise. The new table he’d built was covered with baked goods: a cake, freshly baked damper, a plate pie. There was a pan and when he peeped into it, he saw some stew.