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Authors: Brian Francis Cox

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BOOK: Barefoot and Lost
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     ‘
Michael
, that’s because smart arse here immobilized it.’

     ‘And how did you do that?’ Pulling the cable out of my pocket I show it to him,

     ‘I pulled this out between the coil and the distributor. The fat one was going to shoot me but I had already hidden his rifle.’

     ‘We haven’t got a fat one yet; where did you hide the rifle?’

     ‘I threw it in the bush over there.’

     ‘Well done
Phil
, I think you should get on home, you have done enough for today.’

     ‘Aren’t you going to look for him?’

     ‘Don’t need to, I know the truck, it belongs to
Charlie
Cooper
over in Dunkeld and he’s a fat bastard, so I reckon he is our man.’
Constable
Connelly
walks to his car where he picks up the radio hand piece, ‘Zero one to base.’ the radio cackles, a women answers,

     ‘Go ahead
Mike
.’

     ‘
Jill
, ring
Charlie
Cooper
at Dunkeld, ask to speak to him, he won’t be there, his missus will probably answer. Don’t say who you are, find out if he went out in his truck today, it’s most important, call me back as soon as you know.’

     ‘
Wilko
Mike
.’

     ‘That should nail the fat bastard. If his wife says he took the truck he can’t tell me it was stolen.’

     ‘
Constable
Connelly
, how do you know it is his truck, there is no name on it?’

     ‘I know Phil, I know the number, and I even know the chassis and engine numbers  Charlie has been my main suspect for the sudden increase in livestock rustling in this area couldn’t prove it but, thanks to you two, I have him nailed now.’

     ‘Supposing his wife says the truck is stolen?’

     ‘I have that covered May, one of the accomplices is
Charlie
’s brother-in-law, and that is too much of a coincidence, anyway I have two excellent eye witnesses.’

     ‘Is that all
Michael
, do you need us for anything else?’

     ‘No
Owen
, you can get on your way;
Phil
, you had better give me that coil cable’   handing the cable over, I’m trying not to be, but I feel very smug;
Stan
calls out,

     ‘I’ve found the rifle.’

     ‘Great
Stan
, don’t touch it, leave it where it is.’

     ‘Righty ‘ho
Mike
.’

     ‘Come on
Stan
, let’s get back.
Phil
, follow us, keep you head below his head, then you won’t get it knocked off if he goes under any low branches.’

     ‘Okay, thanks
Owen
.’

     ‘You know
Phil
; it is not often you get two heroes together.’

     ‘Don’t forget May, if I’m a hero so is she.’

     ‘My God, three heroes now I feel very humble, what about you
Stan
?’

     ‘Me B
oss, I feel more humble than humble, if that’s possible.’

     ‘Yeah
, know what you mean. Come, let’s get back, and tell Glorr all about it, she will be
worried sick

Chapter Twenty
Seven

 

    
May has been gone for three weeks; Charlie Cooper was picked up just outside Strath’ later that night by Constable Connelly.’ Charlie was trying to thumb a lift, when he saw that it was a police car that had stopped
,
he tried to run but was soon caught. A
t the police station
,
when confronted with the evidence
,
he pleaded guilty and asked for five other livestock thefts to be taken into account, he also asked to be taken to the hospital to have a very nasty wound on his leg treated.
Charlie
and his accomplices are being held on remand, in
Hamilton
. Constable Connelly
says that May and I
are to be given an award. I’m not sure I want one but May will, it will give her proof that she is the best. She doesn’t need
to prove it to me, I know

 

     Being back at school I only get a chance to ride
Hero
on weekends but, everyday, between getting home from school and milking, I have been standing at the gate of the holding paddock where he grazes, calling
Hero
. Eventually he came to me, and then I fed him a carrot. He is now without fail, waiting for me and gets a sugar lump or a carrot. This evening I just stood there with my empty hands held out; he sniffed both my palms and then put his nose in my pocket where the carrot was. I love him and I think he likes me. 

 

     Stan has on a couple of occasions,
to give him exercise has taken him out instead of Lucy, Stan reckons, but I already know, that I am very lucky to have such a wonderful horse as my own.

 

     In just over six
weeks I will have been at Gadoona one whole year. I cannot believe my luck to have been taken in, and treated like a son, by two wonderful people. When I am riding out, on my own, I often think about my life. Mum is just a memory, of a kind person that kissed me goodnight and told me off when she thought I wasn’t behaving myself. I can’t really remember what she looked like. Gran; I remember her clean pinny and her big chest that nearly suffocated me when she hugged me. And how we both, hugged each other and cried, when Mum was killed. Also the happy times, when we laughed until we cried.

 

    After Gran died I was happy with June and Reg, even though I always felt they were being kind because they felt sorry for me, and were being that way out of loyalty to Gran. I don’t miss Jet, Defor is so much better, he is intelligent, and works hard, Jet only slept, walked, and peed.

 

     In
Hastings
I never felt the way I do here at Gadoona. Here I feel as though I belong, I feel that I am part of a family.
Gloria
said, when I came here, ‘
Phillip
won’t want to run when I start mothering him.’ How right she was, I Love her so much. I don’t remember my Dad at all, I have no idea what he looked like, and I understand what May meant when she said, ‘Not even a photograph.’
Owen
is the best Dad any child could want, he sometimes calls me son. I know he only means it in general terms but, nevertheless it gives me a glow when he says it.

 

     Jack has been home for the odd weekend, treats me like a brother and has insisted, several times, that I am not a replacement for Adam, telling me that A
dam was a spoilt brat, and
if he hadn
’t
have
had
th
a
t
tantrum in the boat, he would still be alive today.

 

     Lambing is almost over. On the weekend I went out with
Stan
, very early. We didn’t take the dogs because they scare the ewes; somehow they aren’t worried by the horses. It is amazing to see the lambs born; how the mother licks her baby clean, then they stand on wobbly legs and find their mums teat. How they know where to look, and what to do, beats me. 

 

     It is sad when a lamb is born dead, with the mother licking it, trying to make it get up
.
Sometimes a ewe has twins, but the mother only wants one, so she keeps kicking the other one away. We came across a ewe that had died; the lamb was okay and trying to get to the teat. Stan picked it up, took it to a ewe who’s lamb was dead, he wiped the live one clean, then rubbed the afterbirth off the dead lamb onto the live one, then laid him on top of the dead lamb.
Stan
held the ewe until she licked the lamb and, in no time, the lamb was sucking like mad on her teat, both as happy as can be.

 

     We have a pen in the barn with six orphans in it, four are girls. Owen said, you were an orphan once so it is your job to be their mummy, so now, every four hours I have to feed them cow’s milk from a contraption Stan rigged up, it is a plank with holes in it, suspended between two trestle’s. Beer bottles, with rubber teats on the end, are poked upside down through the holes. I can feed six lambs at once; it is amazing to watch their tails wiggling as they suck.

 

     At first it was every two hours, I got fed up with going back to bed, so I wrapped myself in a blanket, with a tarpaulin over and slept in the pen with the lambs. They snuggled up like I was their mum. I have continued to be mum, and have an alarm clock but, I must admit, I have not heard it go off, it is usually the lambs that wake me, in particular, one of the rams I have named Rod.     

 

     I tried getting out of going to school this morning, on the pretext that my babies need their mum, but
Gloria
said she was quite good at being a mum. I couldn’t argue with that, so I have sat through my lessons, trying hard to keep awake.
Mr.
Granville
held me back after school and asked what was wrong, I told him about the lambs. He has given me some home work and told me to come back next week, when I am able to pay attention.

 

     My daily visit to the post office gives me four letters for
Owen
and a thin blue one that looks a bit like the letter I sent to Pop, from St S’s. It has Airmail printed across the top and is addressed to me. Turning it over I can see it is from
Mr.
S.
Cohen
.

 

     I want to rip it open but can’t see how. It has printed on the edge, tear here, but I don’t like to in case I ruin it. There is still nothing from
Rachel
and
Billy
hasn’t replied to mine. I find that I’m thinking of May more often than I do Rachel, but I have never felt the flutter in my stomach when I see May, like I did when I saw Rachel, what does that mean?

 

    
Gloria
opens Pop’s letter with a kitchen knife slipped under the flaps. Inside it tells me that he is so pleased that everything has worked so well for me, and that
June
and Reg have moved to Bexhill. He doesn’t have their address but he bumped into
June
in
Hastings
, and has given her mine.

 

     The house in
Devonshire Road
is now a block of flats. He and
Tess
are well and he hopes we can keep in touch. It is signed, with love Pop and
Tess
. He could have written more, but his writing is so big and scrawling it uses a lot of space. As he was running out of space his writing became smaller, almost so small it was difficult to read. If only he had written smaller in the beginning he could have told me so much more but, never mind, perhaps the next one will be better, any letter is better than none.

 

     The Ansett bus between
Mount
Gambia
and Coleraine is stopped at Gadoona’s gate. It never stops unl
ess it has a parcel. Two people are getting
off; I didn’t know we were expecting visitors, especially anyone that would come by bus, perhaps they are looking for work. I’ll give them a job, being mother to my lambs. 

 

     I have to wait for them as they pick their way across the cattle ramp. They must be strangers to the countryside or they would have known th
ey could have opened the gate.

G’day
, can I give you a lift to the homestead?’ 

 

     The man crouches down to speak to me through the open window. I can feel the colour drain from my face, the hairs on my neck prickle, I look at him again, his mouth is open as though he is about to speak.

     ‘Dad---is that you?’ I feel stupid asking. My dad is dead, is this his brother, I never knew he had one?

     ‘
Phillip
, ---
Phillip
Snell
, I’m your Dad.’ I scramble out of the Ute, we stand face to face, I am slightly taller. He goes to hug me, and then holds out his hand, we both fumble, eventually doing neither. ‘I’d have known you anywhere; you look just like your mother.’

     ‘Dad, why are you here, how did you find me?’

     ‘Phillip, we both ha
ve a lot of questions to ask,
but can we go to the house to talk?’

     ‘Yes of course, I’m sorry, I’m a bit shocked that’s all. Does anyone know you are coming?’

     ‘No, we weren’t sure what our reception would be, nobody knows.’

 
   

     ‘Then you had better come to the house and meet my new Mum and Dad.’ The woman, who looks like she is Chinese and hasn’t said a word, slides in the middle, my dad gets in and shuts the door. ‘
Phillip
, this is my new wife,
Nin
Pwin
Phyu
, I call her Snow, and she comes from
Malaya
.’

     ‘Hello Philippe.’ She says with a voice that sounds as though she is singing

     ‘Hello Snow I’m pleased to meet you.’ I say with a similar accent; how stupid is that?

 

     ‘
Gloria
, we have visitors,’ there is no reply. ‘
Gloria
where are you? I’m sorry Da---- she must be in the yard.’

     ‘You don’t have to call me Dad,
Frank
is the name, call me
Frank
.’

 

     The door swings open
Owen
walks in, bumping into
Frank
.

     ‘
G’day
Mate, what are you doing in here, can I help you?’
Owen
says in a challenging tone

     ‘Its okay
Owen
, this is
Frank
, I think he is my dad.’
Owen
’s mouth drops open, clearly shocked.

     ‘
Phillips
dad, my God, how, when, I mean, we all thought you had died, how did you find us?’
Gloria
walks into the room with an enquiring look,

     ‘
Gloria
, this gentleman is
Frank
, I may call you
Frank
?’

     ‘Yes, by all means.’

     ‘I’m
Owen
; this is my wife,
Gloria
.
Frank
claims to be
Phillip
’s dad.’

     ‘What! Are you sure; Frank I can see no resemblance between you and
Phillip
?’

     ‘No, there doesn’t appear to be, but
Phillip
is just like his mum.’ Frank produces a very worn photograph and hands it to Gloria, she looks at it then hands it to Owen, he, in turn, hands it to me, I hesitate to look. Will I remember what she looked like? Slowly I force my eyes to look, I’m shocked,
and it
is as though I’m looking in a mirror.

 
   

     ‘Do you have any other proof? I’m sorry Frank, how rude of us, I’m sure a cup of tea wouldn’t go amiss, shall we move on in to the sitting room, so we can talk this over?’

     ‘What about the lambs should I go and see to them?’

     ‘There is no need
Phil
,
Stan
is looking after them.’ 

 

    
Gloria
busies herself making tea,
I’m helping for something to do, I don’t want to be in there;
Gloria
whispers to me,

     ‘How do you feel about your Dad turning up?’

     ‘I don’t know, shocked I suppose, I’m pleased that he is not dead but I hope he hasn’t come to take me away from here, this is my home.’

BOOK: Barefoot and Lost
7.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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