The Saddler Boys (2 page)

NATALIE
spent her first weekend in Lake Biddy moving into her little house. And it really was little: it took four strides to get from the bedroom to the kitchen. Her brother, Jason, had taken the short journey three times, shaking his head in shock.

‘The whole house is smaller than Mum's kitchen, sis,' he'd said, hands on his hips as if addressing a boardroom meeting.

‘At least I won't have much to clean,' she'd replied in defence of her new home. ‘Anyway, I like it. It feels snug and personal, like my own bedroom.'

‘That's because it's the size of your bedroom,' her brother had teased. But he'd stayed true to his word and helped her move in. Together they had carted in the bed, couch, tables and chairs that he'd brought down in the hired truck.

‘Actually, this has been fun,' Jason had said at the end of the day. ‘It's not often I get to do manly jobs like this. Makes a nice change from the office.'

‘Well, I appreciate you coming to help me, Jase. I know you guys don't agree with me coming out here —'

‘You mean to Woop Woop. Outback past the black stump.'

‘Yeah, but it's not that bad. You'll see. I'm happy with my decision and it means a lot that you came to help me settle in. Just saying.'

Jason had pulled her into his arms. ‘Anything for you, sis.'

Her first night in Lake Biddy had been spent with her brother and a meal of pasta and wine in her new home. The next day he returned to Perth, leaving her to empty her boxes: clothes, plates, photos, cleaning products, plus her laminator and coloured paper. By the end of Sunday it was feeling like her place. She'd arranged her things in each room just how she liked them, and no one else had put their two bob in. She skipped through the narrow passageway, all three metres of it, and swung from the doorways, singing as though she were in a Julie Andrews–inspired musical.

And now in the Monday morning sunshine, as Nat shut the door to her little blue house, she felt like singing again. It was her first day of school and she felt like a lamb, bouncing with each step. Nat loved getting to school early. Even as a child she had been fascinated by the long empty corridors and still rooms. Maybe it was the anticipation of what was about to begin, being able to watch everyone arrive, chatting and running around. It was no different being a teacher. Each step towards the tiny school filled her veins with adrenaline and excitement. Birds chirped in the nearby trees as a gentle breeze rattled the leaves. It was warm in the sunshine but not enough to bring a sweat – that would come later on, with a forecast top of thirty-eight degrees.

‘Hello, you must be Natalie. Welcome.' A medium-height lady in a perfectly ironed pencil skirt and blue blouse walked to the school gate and pulled Natalie into a hug. ‘Hi, I'm Kath, the registrar.' Kath's grey hair was short and neat, her nails filed. There was no missing the cigarette stains on her fingers and the lingering scent of smoke. ‘So great to have you here. Gosh, I love your dress,' she said, eventually letting Nat go.

‘Hi, Kath. Lovely to meet you finally.' Nat had been emailing Kath and felt fully prepared for her first day. She knew her kids' names, their ages, and who the rest of the staff were. Kath had said there was no need to get to the school any earlier than the kids' first day, that she'd cope just fine and would settle in within the week, guaranteed. Pulling out two sets of keys from her bag, Kath gave one to Nat and opened the school building with the other. The door caught on the jarrah floorboards and Kath used her shoulder to push it open like she'd done it a million times. Inside, the boards ran the length of the school. Long benches sat outside each classroom, where the kids would put their schoolbags, with rows of hooks above for their hats and jackets. Windows ran along the length of the outside wall, and Nat knew they would soon be filled up with the children's work.

Their heels clicked against the hard floor as Kath led Nat down the corridor. ‘That's the library room, then the senior room, which is Grace's. This is the principal's office, where I sit too. And this one is yours, with the staffroom at the end.' A flutter of excitement rippled through her as they paused by the door to her classroom. Inside it was rather bleak and lifeless: white walls, blue-grey carpet and a big blackboard. It had a plain, nunnery-like feel, but the sight of the small desks and little blue chairs made her smile. Tiny bottoms belonging to bright-eyed children would soon be sitting there. There were twelve children in Nat's class and she had taken much delight in making all the nametags for their desks the previous night, along with a small sheet of the cursive alphabet for the younger ones. Her laminator had run hot, covering phonics charts, a day chart and a poster with their classroom rules. The school probably had its own large laminator but Nat hadn't been able to resist buying her own, along with an array of bright stickers and fancy paper, not to mention her own stationery. To Nat, the smell of hot melted plastic was almost as alluring as fresh flowers and she couldn't wait to get the nametags out of her large tote and start sticking them to the desks.

Kath must have sensed her eagerness. ‘I'll let you get sorted. If you need anything I'll be just next door.'

‘Thank you, Kath,' Nat said, getting to work. She rearranged the desks, settling on a U-shape, then stuck on the nametags and hung up her posters. She looked around – it was definitely feeling a little brighter already. Soon, with the kids' work to exhibit, it would be a room full of colour and excitement, just like her Year 1 class with Mrs Smithe had been.

Truth be told, it was Mrs Smithe who had made being a teacher seem like the grandest and most alluring job. Nat had idolised her. She'd had more attention, comfort and understanding from Mrs Smithe than from her own parents. Then, in Year 3, she'd had another wonderful teacher in Miss Parish. Nat could remember wanting to impress her so much and, right from those early years, being a primary school teacher had been her only dream. Other kids had changed their minds, but not Nat. She was finally living her dream and it was everything she'd hoped for and more.

She actually felt tingles watching kids arrive by bus, flooding into the school in a flurry of chatter and schoolbags. Her bright-faced kids came inside and crowded around her, as if she was a shiny new toy. Everyone wanted to touch her and feel her clothes, especially the girls. She took in their faces; at the moment they were all unfamiliar but soon she'd know them all so well. Then they'd really be her kids. Just thinking the words made her squeeze her hands together with joy. Sure, she'd worked in a school before, but this was her first posting, her first real class.

By Friday morning, Nat couldn't believe it had only been a week. It felt like a month had passed with all the things they'd done. Already the walls were covered in artwork and maths sheets. Just about anything she could put up she did, just to make the classroom feel more inviting. Now she was stapling the laminated titles of the books they would be reading this term to the pin-up board before the bus arrived.

‘Gosh, you don't waste any time.'

Nat turned to see Kath, who smiled as she pushed back her short, grey hair. Nat admired the way Kath always came to work in a pencil skirt and blouse, stockings and nice shoes, showing that the job still demanded respect even in such a small school. The previous day Kath had mentioned she was in her sixties, and had seen all her kids through this school, as well as some of her grandkids. Nat also learnt that Jess from the shop was Kath's granddaughter. She thought of what Grace, the senior teacher, had told her: ‘Kath has been here nearly longer than the school.'

‘It's the best part of the day.'

‘Yet another gorgeous dress. Don't you worry the kids will paint it or accidentally glue glitter to it?' Kath's face crinkled with lines.

Nat laughed, flattening the material of her designer V-neck dress. It was black down the sides, with a white centre and a beautiful rose pattern overlay. ‘I have others.'

With a smile, Kath left her to her morning routine. Nat quickly finished getting her desk organised, along with her sheets for that morning's lessons.

‘Good morning, Miss Wright,' said a tiny voice from the doorway.

‘Good morning, Lucy.' Lucy still had her bag on her back – it was half her size and Nat was amazed that the child could carry it. She was one of the town kids who walked to school. Her green school shirt looked two sizes too big and nearly hid her black shorts. She had one pink sock and one yellow sock, and her shoelace was undone. ‘Don't forget to do up your shoelace, Lucy,' she prompted while the child tugged on one pigtail. Lucy shrugged and Nat went over and tied it up for her. All her kids were special. Ruby had the reddest lips and a dad who sat at the table in jocks – as she'd reported for show-and-tell on her first day. Liam had all the freckles and a pet bobtail, and Ava always had a runny nose and sniffed a lot. Jack had solid little legs like tree trunks and told her repeatedly that his dad took him shooting cans. Zara seemed to have her head in the clouds, and her uniform had been inside-out on her second day. Mallory and Seth were siblings. So were Mia and Noah. Isaac thought he was a cowboy and was constantly shooting things, and Billy was shy and wore long-sleeved shirts and pants every day despite the heat.

Natalie stepped outside as the two buses pulled up, and watched the children big and small descend on the school. Mia tripped over and a senior boy helped her up and checked she was okay.

‘How have you liked your first week?' The principal, Ross, had appeared beside her, white shirt straining around his belly, the buttons threatening to pop.

‘It's been wonderful. I can't get over how different it is from a city school. The size, the mixed classrooms and the way the kids all get on.'

‘I know. I was a big city schoolteacher for a few years.' His thick hair hardly moved as he shook his head. The sides were greying considerably. ‘The country kids seem more tolerant and helpful. Perhaps when you know everyone it's harder to get away with being a troublemaker.'

‘I keep waiting for the novelty of having a new teacher to wear off but they are all just so eager to please me. I'm loving it,' she admitted.

‘Good, I'm glad,' he said, before twenty kids' voices over­powered his.

With their bright morning faces, they all greeted her and the principal before going back to their lively discussions.

Natalie studied one of her eight-year-olds as he took off his schoolbag and hung up his hat with meticulous care. He was again wearing long pants and a full-length shirt. ‘Morning, Billy. Don't you get hot in pants?'

The boy cocked his head to the side. ‘Sometimes.' His voice was soft, unlike most of the other boys, who practically yelled.

After she gathered her class together, they began their morning by going through the day chart and then sharing their news. The children's ‘news' was sometimes the highlight of her day, and also a good way to get to know them better.

It was Noah's turn. ‘Last night my dad kicked our dog, Brute, because he was fighting with our other dog, Tonka, near my little sister. He yelled at them both and said swear words.'

The class giggled and Nat realised she'd been holding her breath, hoping Noah wouldn't say the swear words. ‘Well, that's no good, Noah. It can be a bit dangerous around dogs when they're angry.' She nodded for him to sit back down and then clapped her hands together to get their attention. ‘Now, this morning you're going to do an activity that will help me learn a little bit more about you all. So, when I'm finished, I want you to take a large sheet of paper from my desk and draw me a picture of your favourite place.' As she'd expected, kids started yelling out.

‘My cubby house.'

‘The tractor.'

‘The water slide.'

Nat waved her hands to shush them. ‘Listen. Year 1s, 2s and 3s, you will also have to write about it: where it is, why it's your favourite place and so on. I'll be around to help you. Okay, off you go.'

While paper shuffled and pencils rattled, Nat glanced at her phone. It was angled on her desk towards the window, the only spot it got good signal, and she thought of her friend Alisha, who had posted another photo on Facebook last night of herself at their favourite nightclub. It said, ‘Missing my BFF.'

She gazed back over her class, their heads bent over their work. She got up and moved around the room, helping the younger ones write, asking them about their pictures. When she got to Billy she stopped and stared at the headstone and cross on his page. Surely it couldn't be a cemetery? Holding the desk, she knelt down beside him.

‘Hey, Billy.' She spoke softly so as not to draw the attention of the other kids. She didn't want him teased. ‘What's your favourite place?'

‘It's where my nana is,' he said as he coloured with a black pencil.

‘Oh, I see. Do you go there often?' Nat glanced at the nearby kids; some had turned to look but none of them laughed or teased. If anything, this seemed normal.

‘Sometimes, with Dad. We sit and talk to her. Dad said that she can hear us and that she's watching over us.'

Nat swallowed hard. Billy's gentle words had moved her. She placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘You must miss her.'

He turned his bright blue eyes towards her. ‘I miss her butterfly cakes and poems. And her hugs.' The power of his gaze went right through her, as if he was secretly telling her all about his pain and loss. As her eyes started to gloss, he put his hand on her arm and smiled. ‘It's okay.'

Nat felt strange, as if this dear little boy had tried to comfort her. Could he tell just how heartbroken she felt for him? Billy seemed wise beyond his years. His little angelic face tilted slightly. Then he frowned and looked back at his work. ‘How do you spell “favourite”?'