Freedom's Land (8 page)

‘Keep hold of those bottles and we’ll fill them every time we stop,’ Andrew said. ‘I’ve been in hot countries before and you need to drink a lot more water.’

Luckily the train stopped several times and at each stop they were able to buy something to eat and drink, pies, sandwiches or cakes, and cups of dark, stewed tea, which normally she’d have turned her nose up at. They were also able to refill their water bottles. Indeed, the station staff seemed to expect that.

Norah had never in her whole life felt as thirsty as this. But then, she’d never experienced such heat in England. Her face was glowing and her hair felt damp with sweat.

Some people grumbled, but one or two seemed to love the heat, and to Norah’s surprise, Irene was one of those. Freddie, however, looked desperately uncomfortable and complained several times.

As if that would make any difference! It wasn’t setting a good example to the children to see a grown man grumbling like that.

The scenery between stops seemed to consist mainly of ‘bush’ as everyone called the countryside that hadn’t been settled. There were trees with dull green leaves, some very tall, and sparse undergrowth, very unlike that in England.

The first time the children saw a kangaroo hopping across a piece of open ground as the train passed by, they got very excited, but after they’d seen a lot of them, they lost interest. It was a relief when they fell asleep one by one.

Andrew gave her a weary smile and said in a low voice, ‘Bit of an endurance feat, isn’t it?’

‘It is rather.’ She fanned herself with a newspaper they’d bought at the station, knowing her cheeks were still flushed.

‘It only gets this hot in the summer, thank goodness. Eh, I’ll be glad to get there.’ He leaned his head back and soon he too was asleep.

Norah wished she could drop off so easily, but she’d never found it easy to take naps in the daytime so she stared out of the window and day-dreamed of having her own kitchen, of looking after her family, cooking, washing, doing all the familiar chores which added up to
making a home
.

And then there were the unfamiliar things ahead of her, not just milking cows and living on a farm, but sleeping with her new husband.

No wonder she couldn’t sleep.

It was late at night and had long been dark when they arrived in Pemberton, because you didn’t get long summer evenings nearer the equator, Andrew Boyd had said. They’d been expecting a town, but this place didn’t seem more than a village to Irene.

She shook Freddie awake and they got ready to leave the train, but before they did, a man walked up and down shouting, ‘Leave your luggage on the train. Leave your bags on the train. They’ll be quite safe and you’ll need both hands to eat and drink.’

They found some people from the towns waiting on the platform with corned beef sandwiches and cups of tea. The tea had been brewed in a big square tin labelled Laurel Kerosene. Irene hoped it had been thoroughly washed out. She accepted a cup from a smiling woman, who’d scooped it out with a jug.

‘Where do we sleep?’ Freddie asked a man who seemed to be in charge.

‘On the train. There isn’t anywhere else.’

A few feet away Bert Grenville exploded into anger at this news. ‘
What?
We’ve been travelling all day and we’re tired. Surely you can do better than that for us?’

The man’s expression tightened. ‘The government didn’t think it out properly. There
is
nowhere round here to put so many people up. And you’ll be comfier on the train than on a hard wooden floor somewhere.’

Bert cursed.

‘Mind your language. There are ladies present. We’re volunteers, doing this as a favour to you. We’ve stayed up late to feed you and you might show a little gratitude.’

Susan tugged at her husband’s arm and he stepped back, still scowling and with no word of apology.

Irene sipped her tea, welcoming its warmth because the night was quite cool, especially after such a hot day.

Standing next to them were the Boyds. Little Janie was so tired she had to be persuaded to eat and drink, and Irene watched wistfully. Surely one day she’d be able to have a child? She didn’t want to produce as many as her mother had, but three or four children would be wonderful. It wouldn’t be a proper family without children.

Freddie didn’t seem to care about children half as much as she did, but he would once they arrived, she was sure he would.

And then, after they’d queued to use the lavatories, it was back to the train to sleep. She snuggled down with her head on Freddie’s shoulder, thinking what a strange few days these had been. And would get even stranger, she was sure. But she didn’t mind. They were here at last. Well, almost.

6

A
s soon as he had collected the things he needed, Gil set off for Northcliffe. He left early, once there was enough light to see the way, before the sun had risen, driving there in the horse and cart he’d bought for himself during the few days he’d spent in the south-west. He reckoned that form of transport would be easier to maintain than a car. He wasn’t much of a mechanic, but he did know about horses.

Pete was glad of a lift out to the new town, but both of them were horrified by how rough the track was. Gil let Daisy move along it at her own pace. Like him, she was no longer young, but not old yet, a sensible mare, to whom he’d taken a liking at first sight.

In Northcliffe they found a clerk from the Group Settlement Board, who had arrived in a delivery truck. He’d been waiting there for their group, stuck for a way to get out to their blocks. Good organisation, that, but you couldn’t blame a clerk like this one for what the higher-ups did. Gil offered the man a ride out and back again.

‘Thank you. I appreciate that.’

‘We try to help one another in the country,’ Gil said mildly. It was obvious this fellow was a townie. What would he know about settling the land?

They jogged along mostly in silence, but at a particularly bad patch, where they had to detour round a fallen tree trunk, Gil couldn’t keep quiet any longer. ‘Crikey! Couldn’t they have done better than this? You can’t call it a road, not by any stretch of the imagination, and what it’ll be like in winter, I dread to think.’

The clerk, who’d got off and helped them at least, rather than expecting them to do all the work, shrugged. ‘I just do as I’m told. But I will report this road as needing urgent attention.’

It wasn’t hard to find their land, because they just followed the track and turned off where they’d been told. It was easy to see which block was meant to be the starting camp for the whole group, because there were piles of tents and equipment lying around, looking as if they’d been dumped there haphazardly.

Gil reined in his horse, cursing under his breath. The materials were there, wood and corrugated iron, but not a single temporary shack had been erected. And the first half of the group was due here later today. Where were the poor sods expected to sleep? A quick glance sideways showed him that the other two were lost for words. ‘This can’t be the right place, surely?’ he said to the clerk. ‘There’s nowhere for them to live.’

‘There’ve been so many settlers we’re a bit behind on the building.’

‘A
bit
behind!’ Gil bit back angry words. It wasn’t this man’s fault. And shouting at him wouldn’t do any good.

He and Pete fed and watered the horse while the clerk went round the piles of equipment, searching for something. Luckily there was a small creek to one side, easily identified by the greenery round it, so none of them would go thirsty. When Daisy was happily munching from her nose bag, with a bucket of water beside her, Gil went back to see what was to happen next.

‘They did send some tents,’ the clerk said, as if that was something to be pleased about. ‘They’re good tents, too. Ex-Army.’

‘They didn’t erect them, though, did they? And by the time the people get here, it’ll be late afternoon – if we’re lucky it’ll still be light, but who knows?’ Gil prayed for patience. ‘Do you at least have a list of what equipment there should be?’

‘The list is supposed to be here waiting for us, because they weren’t sure what they could bring out this time round.’The man looked around as if expecting a list to waft into his hands.

So they walked round the piles again, lifting things and poking around, but there was no sign of any paperwork, let alone a detailed list, just crates and piles of heavier equipment, corrugated iron and wood for the shacks, all sorts of bits and pieces.

‘I’ll, um, have to go back to Pemberton and find out what’s gone wrong,’ the official said. ‘Unfortunately, a foreman can’t take responsibility for things without a list, so you can’t use these yet.’

Townies!
Gil thought in disgust.
Couldn’t organise a washday at a laundry, that lot couldn’t.
And he’d bet the people in Pemberton would send up to Perth for instructions. ‘List or not, we need to get these tents up so that the settlers have somewhere to sleep tonight.’

He waited, but the fellow didn’t make any suggestions about what to do next, so Gil had a quick think about the best way to sort things out since the settlers were already on their way here. ‘You drive him back to Northcliffe, Pete, and while you’re there you can see if anyone knows about this list. I’ll stay here and make a start on finding out exactly what they’ve given us.’ He smiled at the official. ‘I can make my own list. Will that satisfy you?’

‘But who’s to check it?’

‘I was a corporal in the Army and I’ve never been accused of dishonesty before,’ Gil said through gritted teeth. ‘Are you going to be the first to do it?’

The man looked at him nervously, opened his mouth, then shut it again.

‘And bring some food back with you, Pete. I can’t find any here. We’ll have to feed them when they arrive.’

‘I’m not sure there’s authorisation for more food,’ the official said. ‘There was to be some left here. I’m sure if you look more carefully—’ He let out a squeak as Gil moved to stand nose to nose with him.

‘We’ve already checked that. There’s
no – food – here
, except for those loaves we brought with us from Pemberton. Good thing we had a bit of gumption, isn’t it? And the sense to put them in one of the big tin boxes we unpacked even without a list, or they’d be eaten by ants while we’re waiting for the settlers to arrive. You’d better find a way of authorising some more tinned food and potatoes, because I’m not staying if you don’t do that. Which will leave you to manage the settlers.’

‘And if he doesn’t stay, I won’t, either,’ Pete said at once, winking at Gil.

‘No, no! Don’t do that. I’ll authorise it myself. I’m sure if I write and explain why to my superiors, they’ll understand.’

‘Good. You do that. Write them a nice long letter. They’ll be able to file it carefully with all the other letters. My deputy can bring the food back in the cart this afternoon after he’s dropped you.’

Pete had turned slightly sideways to hide another grin, which was nearly Gil’s undoing.

When the others had gone, Gil closed his eyes and spent a minute or two listening to the birds and humming insects, letting the warmth of the sun soak into him. That cheerful chorus calmed something inside him.

It’d not be peaceful here for long, though, not when the settlers arrived and found nothing ready for them. They’d be angry – and they’d have a right to be.

Opening his eyes, feeling refreshed by those few peaceful moments, he decided to reconnoitre the whole area and see if there was anywhere better to set up camp. They’d passed a few of the blocks as they drove in, and he’d been glad to see that someone had cleared the first twenty yards or so next to the track. They must have planted it with grass, too, because you didn’t get stretches of grass like that occurring naturally. The track continued past the camp. He strode along it as it wound its way through more of this group’s twenty farms.

Farms!
There was a long way to go before you could call them
farms,
these pieces of mainly forest. The only good thing about how the blocks were arranged was that they were in a fan shape, and most of them seemed to have fairly short frontages, then to broaden out at the rear, so that people wouldn’t have too far to go to see one another. Well, it’d seem a long way if you’d grown up in towns, but for those raised in the country, it was close, walking distance instead of driving distance.

The main camp ground was fairly central, which was another good thing. This land, the clerk had said, was to house a school one day. Gil would make a start there and then think about whether to build their temporary humpies or shacks all together or out on the blocks.

Hang what regulations said. He’d do what was best for his group.

As he walked, he checked the map he’d brought with him, muttering the numbers of the blocks to fix them in his mind and scribbling notes about the characteristics of each on a piece of paper with a stub of pencil. There were rough markers for each farm, wooden posts with numbers painted on. He reckoned the surveyors would have marked all four corners – they usually did, but he’d check that another time.

He’d expected fences and temporary shacks, at least. And though land had been cleared at the road edge of each block, there were some damned big trees further in on some of the blocks, trees that would take two men’s arms outstretched to span the lower trunk. And there were a hell of a lot of smaller trees too. No wonder the Board paid settlers three pounds a week to clear their own land and do work for the group. They’d have to go on paying out for a while here, so much needed doing.

As he was allowed, he chose the block he’d take for himself. It had some higher ground and a little creek running through it, even now after a long spell of hot dry weather. Not all creeks ran in the summer, when there was very little rainfall, so that would be a big advantage.

After that, he stood for a moment looking at his land, feeling surprised at how good that made him feel. He hadn’t been sure he even wanted to stay until now. But something about the huge trees, dappled light and birdsong was getting to him. This would be a good place to live one day, with hard work. And he’d never been afraid of hard work. Mabel would have really loved it here—He cut off that thought firmly. He’d spent enough time reconnoitring, time to get back to the camp ground.