Freedom's Land (9 page)

First thing he did when he got back was set a couple of traps for possums, which weren’t the best eating, but were all right. He’d be able to shoot kangaroos too. They were better eating, but you needed a gun to get them. The settlers probably wouldn’t have guns, but he did.

He gobbled down the food he’d had the foresight to bring with him, because he’d worked up a good appetite now, then set to work on the tents.

By the time Pete drove back with some provisions, it was half-past two and Gil had two tents laid out ready to erect, a job more easily done by two men on these bigger tents.

The two of them managed that without much difficulty, but then, they’d both been in the Army and Gil at least had erected more tents than he cared to remember, starting at his training camp. How long ago that seemed now!

‘Still think it’s going to be an easy job?’ he asked as they sat by the camp fire for a smoko, even though Pete was the only one who needed a smoking break, because Gil had never liked the taste of cigarettes or the smoke that always seemed to blow in your eyes.

Pete carefully put out his cigarette butt, because they didn’t want to risk forest fires, making a few unflattering comments about the intelligence of those who’d set this new scheme in motion too soon. ‘You were right,’ he told Gil. ‘It won’t be easy, anything but.’

Gil would have raised a glass to that if there’d been any beer available, but the authorities had banned the sale of liquor in the new town. He grinned. Finding something to drink wouldn’t be easy but if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that some men would always find a way to get hold of booze and other men would make money selling it to them.

But he’d vowed not to let himself go on any more binges, not while he was working here. He wasn’t going to make a fool of himself in front of other people. Surely this time he’d not fall into the pit of gloom?

He’d be too busy.

Irene was woken at dawn by someone banging on the train doors with a stick and shouting at them to wake up and hand in the blankets they’d been lent. She yawned and stretched as well as she could in the confines of the railway carriage.

‘Breakfast will be served in ten minutes,’ the same loud voice cried from the platform.

‘I didn’t expect to bring you to such hardship,’ Freddie whispered as they walked across to get some food, after queuing to relieve themselves.

‘Tea and bacon sandwiches. No hardship, that.’ Irene smiled at the woman serving her. ‘Thank you so much for feeding us. We really appreciate your help.’

The woman smiled back. ‘It’s a pleasure to help those who’re grateful.’ She threw a meaningful look at Susan Grenville, who was standing at one side, ostentatiously rubbing the side of her cup with a handkerchief as if it had been too dirty to use.

As she ate, Irene could feel Freddie watching her, almost urging every mouthful down. She knew how anxious he always was about her health and sometimes wished he wouldn’t fuss over her. Actually, she hadn’t felt so well for a long time. Warmer weather definitely agreed with her. The doctor had been right about that.

It was Freddie who suffered from the heat, poor thing, getting rashes in tender parts of his anatomy from sweating.

She tried to turn his mind to something more cheerful. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing our farm, aren’t you?’

His face brightened at once. ‘Shouldn’t be long now. And it’ll be our very own home, this time.’ He turned to the man who kept shouting instructions. ‘Do we go on by train?’

‘No, by truck.’ He pulled a battered pocket watch out and studied it, then raised his voice, ‘Better get your luggage out of the train now, folks. The trucks will be along soon to take you to Northcliffe.’

Everyone dispersed and began lifting cases and bags out of the carriages and then helping one another unload the trunks from the luggage wagon.

After that they stood around in family groups, some sitting on their luggage, and waited.

The man who seemed to be in charge kept looking at his watch and frowning. The air grew warmer as the sun rose and it seemed a long time till they heard the sound of motor engines and three trucks came into view, Red Reos. They were so battered and dusty everyone gaped.

When they drew up, one of the drivers called, ‘Sorry we’re late, folks! We had to move a couple of fallen trees from the track.’ He stared round, as if assessing what to do with them. ‘Need to get you into three groups, about even numbers. Pregnant women or those with babies can ride in the front of the trucks, everyone else rides in the back with some of the luggage.’ He looked round, but no one was pregnant and only one had a baby. Then he turned his attention to their luggage.

‘There’s too much luggage for this trip, so we’ll bring the rest on later. You’d better choose what you’ll take with you. About half of what you’ve got, I reckon.’

‘What about our crates from the ship?’ someone called.

‘Not arrived yet. We’ll send them on when they do.’

Andrew saw Bert open his mouth to complain and dug him hard in the ribs. ‘Shut up! They’re doing their best.’

Bert scowled at him but kept silent.

The eight families milled round, getting in each other’s way, and tempers grew shorter. One or two kept insisting that
their
luggage all had to go with them. When he could bear it no longer Andrew took over, roaring in his best sergeant’s manner, ‘Stay where you are, everyone!’ He did a quick head count and then told them who would ride together to give the trucks roughly even numbers of people, and who would sit in the front.

‘Who do you think you are to take over?’ Bert snapped, the only one to argue with this.

‘He’s a man with a bit of sense,’ the driver of the first truck said. ‘And if you don’t stop arguing and get on board, we’ll have to leave you here.’

Andrew helped load the luggage, insisting on only one item per family till they saw how it went. He made sure Norah’s trunk was loaded and later, when they could add a few more things, the boys’ trunk. Then, by dint of careful arranging, he got all the people seated in the backs of the trucks. To his relief, the Grenvilles were in the second truck, not with him in the first, because he felt if Bert made one more complaint, he’d punch him.

That was the other thing about hot weather, he remembered, it made for shorter tempers in those who didn’t like it.

There was a pile of trunks and boxes left at the station.

‘Two of us will come back for them tomorrow,’ the leading driver said.

‘Who’s going to keep an eye on them till then?’ Bert demanded at once.

The man shot him a disgusted look. ‘They’ll be perfectly safe here. What do you think the people in this town are? Thieves?’

Bert muttered something, but the driver turned back to Andrew.

‘Thanks for sorting it out, mate. What rank were you?’

‘Sergeant.’

‘Thought so. You’ve got that tone of voice. I never let them promote me, just did what they told me and prayed not to be killed. Now, let’s get going. I have to deliver you to your foreman before nightfall – if I can.’

‘
If
you can?’

The man shrugged. ‘Punctures, break-downs, trees down across the road. It isn’t much of a road at the best of times, but it’s all we’ve got. There’s always something going wrong. At least it isn’t winter. We get bogged down regularly in winter round here, then it’s all out to dig the trucks out. Sometimes you have to unload them completely to get them out of the bad patches.’

He paused for breath then continued, ‘They’ve only cleared a rough track to your blocks, so even in dry weather, it’ll not be a fast trip, especially loaded up like we are. I reckon the government’s mad opening up such a lot of land for new groups all at once. We’ve got that many settlers coming in, there’s no keeping up with them.’

On this cheerful note, he climbed into the driver’s seat, yelled, ‘Hold tight back there!’ and set off.

It took them three hours to get to Northcliffe, and by that time, everyone was hungry, thirsty and tired of being shaken about, not to mention covered with the dust and fine grit thrown up by the truck. One child had been sick, and another had cried fretfully for most of the journey. The adults had endured the jolting and bumping in grim resignation and even the older children had lost their usual liveliness.

‘This is the town,’ called the leading driver. ‘And that’s the store.’

Norah looked round in shock as they stopped. It didn’t look like a town to her, or even a village. The land might have been cleared but there was virtually nothing built on it, no rows of houses or shops, just a couple of what she’d call huts, and the store, which was little more than a tin shed with a tent next to it. This was fronted by an expanse of bare earth, with deep ruts criss-crossing it. What it’d be like here when it rained, she dreaded to think.

A horse and cart was standing outside the store but there was no sign of people till a man came to the doorway and yelled to their drivers, ‘Water’s heating. Tea will be served in ten minutes.’

‘What’s that building over there?’ Andrew asked, pointing to one further away.

‘A small timber mill. It’s easier to produce the planks on the spot with all these trees around. Good timber country, this.’

‘But the wood will be green, unseasoned!’

‘It’ll still keep the rain off come winter, so you won’t be complaining that they didn’t season it.’

A woman went up to the driver, holding a little girl by the hand, and whispered to him.

‘Sorry. Shoulda told you.’ He raised his voice. ‘The lavatories are over there, women to that side, men to the other.’

They straggled across, and Norah walked behind a temporary fence of canvas, tacked to poles. Behind it was a pit with a pole over it for them to sit on and do their business, and that was it. Flies were buzzing round and there was no privacy whatsoever.

‘I can’t do it here, Mummy!’ Janie burst into tears.

Norah summoned up her courage. ‘You’ve no choice, love. Do it here or wet your knickers. See, I’ll go first and then I’ll help you.’

Janie wasn’t the only one to protest, and even grown women were weeping in embarrassment, but when it came down to it, you could only wait so long. Carefully avoiding looking at one another, they did what they had to and encouraged their daughters to do the same.

When they went outside again, they found that the man from the store had provided two enamel buckets of hot, black tea and some thick chunks of bread spread with jam but no butter.

‘Eat up quickly!’ the driver called. ‘We need to get on if we’re to get you to your blocks before nightfall.’

People cheered up a little at that prospect.

Andrew, who’d been talking to one of the other drivers, came up to Norah. ‘They’re providing basic food for the next few days, but I think we should buy some stuff of our own as well, a few tins maybe, just in case. You’ll know what to get better than me. We’ll be a few miles from the shops, apparently.’

‘How on earth will we do the shopping, then?’

He spread his hands. ‘Who knows? Presumably they’ve thought it all out. The foreman is out at Special Group One already, apparently, waiting for us. And the brochure said that later on they’d provide us with a horse and cart as part of the deal. Maybe our group will need those earlier if we’re a long way out of town.’

‘Can you drive a horse and cart?’

‘Not really. I drove cars and motorbikes in the Army. But I can learn, can’t I?’

‘Yes. And so can I.’

‘Good lass. Come on now. Let’s go and buy some supplies.’

A few people were buying food, but there were others in their group who bought nothing, people who clearly didn’t have any money to spare. Maybe their landing money was all they’d got. She was glad she had some money of her own tucked away. That made her feel more secure.

She bought a huge tin of jam and some flour. A 26-pound bag was the smallest weight of flour they sold, and they didn’t have any bread for sale because you had to order that and it came in from Pemberton. She and Irene agreed to share a bag and make soda bread. It grew stale quickly but hungry children wouldn’t complain. She also got some tea, sugar and Oxo cubes. She hoped there would be some way of getting milk for the children. She hoped the farm would be pretty and the house well designed.

Happiness surged through her as she went out into the sunlight again. It cheered you up, sunshine did. And she was so glad they’d arrived, more than ready to start work now.

When they drove off again, the trucks were even more heavily laden with all the purchases, but the drivers said nothing. As before, they were strung out at about a hundred yards from one another to try to minimise the debris thrown up by the one in front. But the passengers still copped a lot of dust.

Irene sat holding on to Freddie, who was clutching the side of the truck. She’d been shocked by the sight of Northcliffe but had tried to keep cheerful because he was so angry. She wished he wouldn’t fire up so easily.

‘They told us a bunch of lies about this place,’ he muttered as they bumped in and out of shadow and sunlight. ‘That wasn’t a town, not even a village.’

‘You can say that again!’ the man next to him said.

Freddie sighed. ‘I was a fool to believe what that pamphlet said.’

‘Oh, look at that pretty blue flower!’ Irene nudged him, trying to distract him.

‘What?’

But by the time he looked they’d driven past the flowers and anyway, Freddie was so lost in anger and his own thoughts, he hardly seemed aware of the scenery near their new home. A few of the others seemed to be in a similar sort of mood. Irene turned her attention to the scenery, which was pretty once they got out of the bare-earthed town.

They were all tired of travelling, so very tired, after over six weeks of it. It felt much longer than that to Irene. But she wasn’t as exhausted as she’d have expected by the last two days and was looking forward to their new life.