The Last Mile Home (16 page)

She was about halfway there when her waters broke. She stumbled to the shade of a lonely tree and sat propped up against its trunk till her strength returned. Then she set off again, frightened and breathing rapidly.

Through misty eyes, Abby became aware that the hut was made of crude slabs, wattle-and-daub style. It had verandahs front and back and, despite the smoke, didn't look as if it was normally lived in. She could hear the sound of an axe splitting wood as she stepped onto the verandah. The front door was open and revealed a single room with open fire, plain table, several chairs, a cupboard made of old boxes and a bed. She was leaning on
the door frame fighting back the feeling that she was about to collapse, when a man carrying wood came to the back door opposite. He was silhouetted against the glare of the summer sun and Abby couldn't make out his features.

‘Abby!' The voice was unmistakable.

‘Mr Richards! What are you . . . I'm . . .' She slipped to the floor unconscious.

When she came to, she realised she was in the bed and Mr Richards was sitting beside her. She smiled weakly at him and lay there holding her stomach, feeling the surges of giddying waves that threatened to overwhelm her.

‘Please get me to the hospital, Mr Richards, or get a doctor.' She grimaced, then shouted, ‘Please!' and pulled her knees up to her stomach to help ease the pain.

He held her hand while she relaxed a little. ‘Can't go anywhere now, even if I did have the old truck. We're a long way from anywhere. You can't be left alone, Abby, we'll have to sit it out for a while. Apart from that, it's lovely to see you again. How have things been? What's all the news?'

Abby felt a momentary calm, and tried to respond to his efforts to reduce her tension. ‘We're getting married, Barney and me. Only decided the other day. He's up at Katherine, managing a big station.'

‘Well, how about that! Congratulations.' He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

‘Thanks,' she said softly, then looked him squarely in the eye. ‘ Mr Richards, what are we going to do?'

‘We'll have a baby. Simple as that. Don't worry now. I've done this sort of thing before, believe it or not.' He smiled and patted her hand.

‘I'll put some more water on the fire.'

By the time he returned with water from the tank outside, Abby was in the agony of a severe contraction. Then suddenly they started coming faster and stronger. She lay back groaning slightly as Mr Richards rolled a blanket and placed it under her back and helped her establish a breathing pattern.

Now all Abby could focus on was Mr Richards' kindly blue eyes and his mouth inhaling and exhaling in time with her. She lost track of time. Mr Richards stayed beside her, talking softly until it was time for the baby's birth. With sure hands he settled Abby, folding a sheet across her and then, with firmness and some insistence, directed her to push out the baby. Abby thrust and panted and pushed, crying out as her body finally gave up the child it had sheltered. Deftly Mr Richards eased the child out, wrapping it in a clean towel and laying it on Abby's breast as he took the knife he'd sterilised and cut the cord.

‘You have a fine son, Abby.' He lifted her into a sitting position as she stared down at the miracle she held in her arms. ‘Check him over,' grinned Mr Richards.

She unfolded the towel and looked at his little body, tentatively touching his toes and his fingers. ‘Oh, he's perfect,' she breathed. At that instant the baby cried lustily and she hugged him to her, tears rolling down her face. ‘Oh, Mr Richards, thank you . . . thank you. You said you always turn up when you're needed.'

He threw back his head and laughed. Abby felt the baby react to the sudden noise. ‘Just a happy coincidence. I was going to call in on you in a couple of days anyway,' he said, then quickly changed the subject. ‘The most important thing to do now is to get you home as fast as possible. Everyone will be at panic stations by now, I reckon. I'll go up to your car and see if I can get it started.' He lit a kerosene lamp and put it on a box beside the bed. Taking a torch off the crude mantelshelf over the fire, he put on his hat, smiled, nodded and strode off.

The story of the birth was the hottest item on the district party lines well into the night. From the moment Mr Richards telephoned the McBrides from the first farm they found on reaching the
main road, the telephone lines hummed with amazing versions of events. The McBrides, Sarah and Keith Pemberton and one of the local policemen were all waiting on the verandah when Betsy spluttered up the track and coughed to a stop at the gate.

Gwen ran to the car and pulled open the door. ‘Oh Abby,' she cried. ‘We were so worried. We had half the district out looking for you.' She leaned in and kissed her daughter then carefully took the baby from her. ‘Bob, help Abby. Dear Lord, look at this precious darling,' she cooed.

Bob helped Abby from the car, nodded across the seat to Mr Richards. ‘Thanks, mate,' he said softly.

Two days later, Abby, who'd been resting in a canvas deck chair on the verandah, suddenly felt a surge of energy and happiness. Trembling with joy, she called to her mother to watch the baby while she went for a walk.

She headed down the track, knowing in every fibre of her body that her love was soon to be with her. Walking slowly, still recovering from the birth of the baby, she headed doggedly towards the road. She was at the half-mile point when she heard the engine. She leaned against a gumtree, and flagged the car as it came into sight.

Barney raced from the car and swept her into his arms. Holding her tightly against him, he rocked her gently, smoothing her hair, not speaking, totally overcome by his feelings of love and longing.

Finally they drew apart and Barney kissed her passionately. ‘ Oh Abby, my darling. I've missed you so much . . . What you must have been through. God, I wish I'd been here . . . Are you all right? And the baby . . .? I've been so worried since I heard.'

‘Hush, it's all right, my sweet. We're doing just fine. Thanks to Mr Richards. Oh Barney, the baby is so beautiful . . .'

‘What are you doing so far from home? Come on, get in. I can't wait to see him.' Tenderly he helped her into the car and as he went to put it into gear he gave her a shrewd glance . ‘You knew I was coming, didn't you?' And as she nodded, he shook his head. ‘I don't know why, but I've stopped wondering about some things. I'm leaving my life to the fates . . . so far they're doing a pretty good job.'

After the excitement of his arrival, Abby lifted their baby from the cradle and placed him in Barney's arms. Barney held his tiny son awkwardly, as if he could shatter like crystal eggs, and stared at him in wonderment.

‘He's a bit on the small side, but Doctor Malone says he's not really premature, just a bit early. He was ready to arrive, so he did,' smiled Abby, hugging Barney's arm affectionately.

‘What are we going to call him, Ab?' asked Barney, his eyes full of love for her.

‘I thought Richie, after Mr Richards.'

Barney stared into the blue eyes of his son. ‘Sounds good to me.'

T
HE
M
C
B
RIDES' LITTLE HOUSE OVERFLOWED WITH
people and laughter, Christmas preparations and wedding plans. Abby, Barney and baby Richie were ensconced in the sleepout, the girls in constant attendance.

Barney, his face alight with love and wonder, watched Abby sitting in the rocker breastfeeding the baby, but gradually a concerned and sad expression took its place.

‘I know what you're thinking, Barn,' said Abby. ‘It's your parents, isn't it?'

He nodded.

‘Do you think we should go and see them? Let
them see Richie. It might change your father's mind,' suggested Abby.

‘No! I know my father. Until he accepts you and the decision I've made, I'm not going to see him.'

‘I feel so sad about it all, that you are giving up your family.'

Barney leaned over and touched her hands holding their baby. ‘You're my family now, Abby. You and Richie. We have our own life now.' He sighed. ‘Give it time.'

At Amba, Enid approached Phillip and quietly asked, ‘Phillip, can we see the child? Barney's child.'

‘Absolutely not! Until he comes to his senses, he is not welcome here.'

‘But this is his home, Phillip. At least allow me to go to them.'

‘Don't even consider it, Enid. It's out of the question. He chose to defy us, he must live with the consequences.'

Enid turned away; both men were being stubborn and everyone was suffering. She went slowly to her bedroom and lay on her bed, her energy and the small hope she had cherished, draining from her. The dogs jumped on the bed and lay by her feet but she ignored them as she
closed her eyes and wondered what was to become of her son and her grandchild.

Mr Richards became a regular visitor again now he had his old ute back from being repaired. Barney thanked him profusely for being around when Abby needed help.

‘You're Richie's fairy godfather,' declared Abby. And so it was to Mr Richards they turned for advice on who should marry them.

‘You understand the problem, seeing as we're both different religions,' said Abby. ‘We've decided we want to be married in the open air — Mum and Dad have never heard of such an idea, of course!'

‘Do you know the common, down by the river?' asked Barney. ‘There's a small community hall there and it's very pretty. It gets used for all sorts of local events. Abby has chosen Christmas Eve, she thought it was the best gift we could give each other.'

Mr Richards smiled at the couple, so much in love, so contented with their baby, so looking forward to their new life. ‘Leave it with me, I know just the bloke,' he smiled.

The children were so excited even Brian decided the new little baby hadn't usurped his place.

Everyone was busy making gifts in secret, making Christmas decorations and helping with the food preparations. Gwen baked fruitcakes, puddings and biscuits, and promised Brian there'd be a rainbow cake. She knitted Richie his own Christmas stocking to hang out for Santa. Late into the night she and Abby took turns at the old treadle Singer sewing machine, making the wedding dress and new dresses for Colleen and Shirley. No one could talk of anything but that this would be a Christmas to remember.

‘We must be mad — a wedding, christening
and
a big family Christmas,' Gwen sighed to Bob as she fell into bed.

‘Go on, you're loving every minute of it,' he teased. ‘But don't overdo it, luv.'

‘I'll miss them when they've gone north,' Gwen sighed. ‘I don't mind the work. I just want everything to be nice for them.'

Two days before the big event, just when Barney was getting nervous about who would perform the ceremony, Kevin rushed inside to announce someone was coming up the track.

The visitor arrived on an old Norton motorcycle with a sidecar. As he drew up, shutting off the engine, the group gathered in front of the house saw he was a member of the Bush Brotherhood. He was a chubby man in his thirties, dressed
in the simple brown hassock of the men dedicated to spreading God's word through the outback. He had a round ruddy face and short sandy hair.

‘He looks like the jolly monk in the brandy ads,' whispered Bob.

‘I'm Brother John, Mr Richards sent me,' the man said, shaking Bob's hand. ‘I'm heading north, visiting my flock.'

Over sandwiches and tea, the ebullient Brother John had everyone laughing with his stories of evangelising in remote areas where men and women could go months without seeing another soul.

‘How did you get to know Mr Richards?' asked Gwen.

‘Strange bloke, Mr Richards. Keeps popping up all over the place, and usually when he's needed.' Brother John paused to chuckle. ‘ He jokes with me that he has the power to become invisible and actually travels on the pillion seat of the Norton.' They all laughed and Brother John slapped his thigh, laughing loudest of all.

There was a short spell when everyone became serious and discussed details of the wedding, giving Brother John a briefing on the circumstances. Nothing was held back and he listened with compassion and warmth. When the arrangements were completed for the wedding and the
baby's baptism, the churchman smiled. ‘Well, this is going to be quite an ecumenical event, isn't it? Catholic, Presbyterian and Church of England.' His smile got even larger. ‘The Methodists will be furious at missing out.' And again he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

As the sun set on the hot Christmas Eve, the small wedding party assembled on the common. It was a flat pocket of lush green grass with a fringe of weeping willows and casuarinas lining the creek bank, which curved around the river. On a slight rise above the flood line sat the small white-painted and red-roofed wooden community hall.

Gwen held Richie in the crocheted shawl that all the McBride children had worn for their baptisms. Mrs Anderson and Jim stood behind her and Mrs Anderson peered over Gwen's shoulder to coo at the sleeping baby. Sarah and Keith Pemberton joined them. Shannon had unexpectedly taken off on another trip, so wasn't there to sour the day's joy.

A distant toot announced the arrival of the bridal party in Betsy, which Kevin had polished and tied Christmas bush to the bonnet. Brother John took his place and signalled Barney to stand beside him. Bob McBride opened the door for Colleen and Shirley, who stepped proudly out in
their white muslin dresses sashed with yellow ribbons, carrying posies of small daisies.

Abby followed and took her father's arm. ‘Righto, Ab,' whispered Bob, ‘shoulders back, right foot forward, here we go.'

Barney's eyes misted as he looked at Abby, dressed in a loose cream ankle-length dress. She wore a small hat with a short veil covering her face and carried a bouquet of cream and yellow rosebuds.

They stood together, a small cluster of people beneath the canopy of rose-gold light as if the sun itself was joining in the celebration. Brother John began by welcoming everyone and remarking on the beautiful setting. ‘A s some of you may know, we of the Bush Brotherhood spend a lot of time in the bush and worshipping outdoors is not unusual for us, for in a beautiful setting like this it is just as easy, perhaps easier, to acknowledge the gift and presence of God as it is in a church or a cathedral. Just as He is everywhere, so too is His gift of love, and it is in recognition of the love between Abigail and Barnard that we are gathered together here today. Love is what starts a family, love is what holds a family together and gives it strength. Love is the essence of living and, without it, without sharing it, we are nothing.' He paused, smiled broadly and clapped his hands
together. ‘Right, enough of the preaching, let's get down to the business of the day.'

The simple words of the ceremony were punctuated by the calls of birds working the willows and the creek for their evening meal. But neither Abby nor Barney heard their singing — the solemn yet joyous tone of the Bush Brother made them aware only of the words of the ceremony.

When he pronounced them man and wife, they turned to each other with love in their eyes, and kissed. It was only then they heard the birds singing and they both looked to the trees and smiled.

‘I'll now baptise the baby,' announced Brother John. When it was over, Bob shouted, ‘Three cheers for the bride and groom', and as the cheers echoed up and down the creek, everyone moved forward to embrace and wish them well.

Mrs Anderson took Barney aside and gave him a small parcel. ‘Your mother sends her love and this . . . it's your silver christening cup. It's for Richie. And she thought you might want to give this to Abby.' She handed over a small blue box.

Barney put it in his pocket and bit his lip. He knew it was the gift that Enid had always promised his bride.

‘Your mother wanted to come very much. But she won't go against your father's wishes. He'll
come round in time,' said Mrs Anderson comfortingly. ‘ You get along and enjoy your life. I'm sure it's going to be tough going up there and starting out with so little, but well, that's how most of us have to do it, Barney.'

‘I don't care, so long as I have Abby and the baby with me, that's all that matters.'

It was a merry Christmas Eve at the McBrides' with a splendid dinner of cold meats, salad and Christmas pudding eaten in the garden lit by hurricane lamps. The Pembertons and the Andersons left early and Mr Richards put his swag in the ute.

Before leaving he had a quiet yarn to Abby and Barney. ‘Well, we're always off on journeys it seems. I just want to wish you well. Who knows, I might drop in one day.'

‘Oh, I wish you would,' enthused Abby. ‘You've become very special to us, Mr Richards, and we owe you so much.'

‘You owe me nothing, lass,' he said. ‘The reward for an old fella like me is to see the love you both have for each other. It's a precious gift, and some people spend a lifetime searching and never find it. A thinking bloke I knew once wrote that love is the only reality. What I reckon he was saying is that love is the only real thing that
matters in life when all is said and done. So I reckon you have a lot going for you.'

He reached out his hand to Barney and Abby kissed him on the cheek and hugged him.

‘God bless you, Mr Richards,' she said softly.

He said his farewells to the children, kissed his fingers and put them lightly on the forehead of a sleeping Richie and was walked to the battered old utility by the rest of the family. There were more handshakes, a kiss from Gwen and with an exchange of wishes for a Merry Christmas, he was on his way.

When the table was cleared, the dishes done and the children in bed, Barney and Abby went for a walk.

‘There's our star,' said Abby looking up to the Southern Cross. ‘We'll still be able to see it up north. It'll always watch over us.'

‘That's a nice feeling,' said Barney. ‘Happy?'

‘I'm so happy it frightens me. Oh Barney, I love you so much. It has been a wonderful day, so wonderful.'

Barney swept his wife tightly into his arms and kissed her.

Christmas morning was happy bedlam. The children were up at dawn emptying Christmas stockings and running from bedroom to bedroom in
excitement, jumping on beds, hugging and kissing everyone.

Bob, wearing a knitted Christmas stocking as a nightcap and still in his pyjamas, delivered mugs of tea to everyone in bed. Then it was roll call for the present opening.

Bob had cut a large branch of sweet-smelling eucalypt and anchored it in a kerosene tin filled with dirt. The children had decorated the tree with homemade paperchains, cut-out stars and tinsel. Piled around the kero tin, now wrapped in Christmas paper, were the presents.

Bob sat back and grinned at his happy family. There were no lavish gifts, but practical clothes, useful items, novelties and books, and everyone had made something for another member of the family.

‘Kevin, you're a brilliant French knitter, I love these colours,' said Gwen, holding up the multicoloured pot holder.

‘And look what the girls have made for Richie,' she said, showing Bob the tiny beribboned blue knitted booties.

‘Won't be able to play football in those,' commented Bob. ‘Now gather round, everyone. Time for the Christmas singalong.'

Barney and Abby exchanged a grin and Abby whispered, ‘There's no escape, it's a family tradition.'

They all drew into a circle and, led by Bob, sang their favourite Christmas carols. Colleen and Shirley pulled Richie's cradle into the centre and, sitting on either side of the placid baby, the two new aunties chorused sweetly, ‘
Away in a manger . . .'

Later, when everyone had stowed their bounty and the Christmas wrappings had been picked up, some being carefully smoothed for reuse, they all gathered for a big breakfast.

Gwen and Abby kept up a running supply of steak and bacon and eggs, porridge and homemade mulberry jam on toast until everyone was satisfied.