Freedom's Land (38 page)

‘I’ve not even looked inside the humpy,’ Norah said, her voice still shaking, her arm still linked very tightly in her husband’s.

‘Let’s do it now,’ he said.

So the five of them walked inside, nodding as they saw that things were untouched. Everything was covered in soot and ash, the whole place reeked of burning, but that could be dealt with.

‘Do you want to stay here tonight or go to a neighbour’s?’ he asked.

‘Stay here,’ she and Jack said at the same time, then smiled at one another.

‘Be it ever so humble . . .’ Andrew murmured. ‘That’s how I feel too. I want to stay here.’

He went back to the door to look at his burned outbuildings. ‘So it’s all to do again. Will this land never let us settle in peace?’

‘We can do it,’ Norah said from beside him. ‘We’ll all help you.’

‘We weren’t insured against fire. I don’t think anyone is here.’

‘But we have a home and our land. All the animals are safe. We can do it.’

He nodded, but there was a bitter twist to his mouth. He’d worked so hard.

Gil and Irene arrived in Pemberton too late in the day to travel on to Northcliffe, especially with two tiny babies to care for. He found lodgings and arranged transport for themselves and a pile of trunks and boxes the following morning, then sat down to watch his new wife feed their daughters.

When it came to supplementing their mother’s milk with a bottle of baby milk, he took one of the twins, taking care not to hurt Jenny’s soft skin with his rough fingers, but rejoicing in the sight of her sucking vigorously on the rubber teat.

‘There aren’t many men who’d do that,’ Irene said as she performed the same service for Mary.

‘There aren’t many men who’ve longed for children as I have. And anyway, twins are different.’ He smiled at her. ‘I hope you’re not regretting what we did yesterday, Mrs Matthews.’

‘Never. But I had to wait, to grieve for poor Freddie, to be certain I cared for you enough. You do understand, don’t you?’

He nodded. She’d said this a few times. ‘Of course I understand. Stop worrying.’

‘Worriting, we say in Lancashire.’

‘Whatever you call it, you’re not to do it.’

The driver of the truck Gil had hired turned up at six o’clock in the morning. He took his hat off as he came into the kitchen, where they were feeding the babies.

‘Do you still want to go?’

Gil looked at him in surprise. ‘What do you mean? Why shouldn’t we want to go there?’

‘I heard last night that they’d had a bush fire through that group yesterday. Bad one. It destroyed some of the buildings and if the wind hadn’t turned it, everything would’ve gone up in smoke.’

Gil stiffened. ‘Was anyone hurt?’

‘No. Miracle, that. One family was trapped on the farm and folk were anxious about them for a while, but they did the sensible thing and stayed put near their well, the fellow told me.’

Gil looked at Irene. ‘If there’s been a fire through the group, it’ll be no place for you and the babies.’ He saw her open her mouth to protest and repeated firmly, ‘They haven’t got good lungs like we have, too young yet and it’ll reek of smoke. It’s not safe for them, Irene.’

Their landlady, who’d been listening and exclaiming, said at once, ‘You can stay on here, Mrs Matthews. Your husband’s right. You have to be careful with babies that young.’

Gil could see how disappointed Irene was, but she looked down at Mary, covered by a shawl as she fed from the breast, and nodded slowly.

‘I’ll take most of our things and come back for you as soon as it’s safe.’

The landlady took over the second baby and the bottle. ‘I’ll look after them, don’t you worry, Mr Matthews.’

As he got ready, he prayed it wouldn’t be too bad. Buildings had been lost, his companion had said. Which buildings. Not his friend Andrew’s, surely?

And . . . not his own. Please, not his home, just when he’d got it halfway decent and was bringing his new family to live there!

24

I
n the morning, Norah woke to find Andrew already up. Flinging on her clothes, she went out to look for him, pausing in the doorway, not wanting to rush too hastily into a private moment. She knew how upset he was by their losses, how hard he was trying to put a brave face on it.

She was upset too, but so relieved that no one had been hurt, that the pain about the waste of all their months of hard work didn’t yet seem quite real.

The animals had stayed near the house during the night. Now, the cows and pigs were drinking from her wash tubs, which Andrew must have filled with water because their wooden drinking troughs had been destroyed with everything else. The poor creatures’ hides were dirty with ashes and soot, and she could see a few burns from flying debris. Otherwise, they too had survived.

So not everything was lost.

Andrew was standing fifty paces away with his back to her, next to what had been the dairy. His hands were clenched into fists and he was motionless, staring at the twisted, charred frame which had been a sturdy wooden shed yesterday, built by his own hands. She remembered him calling her to come and see it when he’d finished, the pride in his voice, the sparkle in his eyes.

She began to walk towards him, but he didn’t turn, though he must have heard her coming because her feet made crunching noises on half-burned twigs.

A quick glance showed her he had tears in his eyes and she looked quickly away from his face. She couldn’t think what to do but hug him, so she did, not a woman’s hug for her lover, more a mother’s hug for her hurt child. He didn’t put his arms round her immediately then, with an inarticulate noise, he gathered her to him and buried his face in her hair.

‘We’re all alive,’ she said quietly. ‘Keep fast hold of that thought, my love.’

She could feel him nod but he didn’t say anything, just continued to hold her close.

After a while, she decided to give him something to do to take his mind off things. ‘We’d better make arrangements for milking the cows and separating the cream. Can’t leave the poor things with full udders, can we?’

‘How do we separate the cream? Everything was burned.’

‘We’ll borrow Gil’s cart and go into Northcliffe and replace what we can. I still have my savings. We’re not penniless.’

His voice was harsh, with an edge to it. ‘Money won’t buy buildings, won’t take us back to where we were.’

‘No, we’ll take ourselves back, step by step.’

‘And what if there’s another bush fire? And another. What if we lose everything again? We’ve not been lucky here. First we drew the worst block of land, now this!’

She’d never seen him so discouraged. ‘We’ll just – do what we have to,’ was all she could manage.

He gave her another quick hug then pushed her to arm’s length, looked at her and smiled. Just a slight lifting of the lips, but it lifted her heart with it.

‘I was lucky in one thing, at least, the most important thing of all.’

She was a little puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Lucky to find you, to marry a strong woman who’ll work by my side, who’ll brighten my darker moments and gild my happy ones.’

A tide of warmth ran through her and the words echoed in her mind. She would never forget this wonderful compliment, never. ‘As you do for me.’

He kissed her, and she kissed him back sweetly and gently.

She tried to pull away and he wouldn’t let her, so she laid her cheek against his and tried to lighten the tension. ‘I really like this sort of work, you know, being outdoors and working with animals.’ To her relief, his smile still lingered and the bitterness had gone from his face.

‘I like it too. So . . . we’ll start again. Together.’

His next kiss wasn’t gentle, it was full of passion and need. It lasted a long time, making her head spin with pleasure and the wonderful knowledge of how much she was loved.

Then she heard giggles and he must have too, because he stiffened and moved his lips from hers. Together they looked back at the house to see the three children grinning at them from the doorway.

‘Look at them,’ she said. ‘What grand children they are.’ She let go of him and held out her arms.

Janie immediately set off running towards her. A few seconds later Ned followed, then Jack, and they were all hugging and kissing one another, a rare demonstration of their love, but something to hold on to in the hard times to come.

‘I’m hungry,’ Ned said, when the moment had passed.

‘You’re always hungry. All right, I’ll come and get you some food. Andrew love, if I send Ned out with one of my mixing bowls, can you wash Blossom’s udder and get some milk from her for breakfast?’

And so the work began.

But the fire had done one good thing, Norah thought later. It had bound them tightly together as a family, and for that she was deeply thankful. So far away from home, they had only one another so needed strong love to support them all.

Gil sat beside the driver as the truck jolted along the road to Northcliffe. He didn’t really want to make conversation, but forced himself to pay enough attention not to upset his garrulous companion. Billy obviously loved talking.

When they got into Northcliffe, they saw no one in the town centre.

‘Don’t stop,’ he told Billy. ‘I want to see if I’ve still got a house left.’

There weren’t any signs of men working this side of the camp ground and he wondered where they were. But the first few farms were untouched, thank goodness, and cream cans were standing by their entrances as usual.

The camp ground was empty too. Gil’s anxiety rose as the truck slowed down to enter a burnt landscape. Where was everyone? Had someone been killed?

‘Damned bush fires!’ the other muttered as they drove into the part where the fire had struck, a desolate landscape, all black tree trunks and scorched earth.

There was no edge of pain to his companion’s voice, Gil thought, no real understanding of what it meant to stand helpless as fire raced through a piece of bush, destroying what you’d created with your own hands. Billy was just echoing what unaffected people always said.

But Gil had seen the effects of bush fires before, had helped a friend who’d had one go through his place, and seen how devastated both land and man were afterwards. Besides, this was his group, his
friends
who’d suffered.

Above all, he prayed no lives had been lost. Land endured and plants regenerated, buildings could be replaced but people couldn’t.

They were driving even more slowly now. On both sides of the track stood blackened trees, some with shreds of curling leaves clustered here and there, most bare. Some had tumbled over, others pointed what remained of the charred trunk upwards in a final jagged salute to the fire.

Some of the larger fallen trees were still smouldering, giving off little wisps of smoke and he made a mental note to send men to shovel earth over them to make sure they didn’t erupt into another fire.

Every now and then a group of trees near the track was only half burned, the lower leaves scorched and curled, but some of the upper branches still showing clumps of green. Bush fires were like that, moving on sudden whims, sparing some, totally destroying others.

The air smelled strongly of smoke, so acrid his breath caught in his throat as he drew it in.

Where was everyone? Had the fire damage been worse than he’d heard?

Was his own home still safe?

Damnation! He should have stopped in Northcliffe for the latest news, not rushed blindly on.

Before Andrew could set off to borrow the cart, which was in Pete’s keeping while Gil was away, Norah insisted on everyone eating a proper breakfast. Then together they wrote out a list of basic necessities and she handed over her savings to pay for them, knowing he didn’t have enough of his own money left.

‘I hate taking it from you,’ he said.

‘It’s not mine or yours, it’s
ours
now.’ She went to the door with him and looked across the burnt land. The paddocks might not have any grass left on them at the moment, but that would grow again. They’d need the fences mending, though, to keep the animals from straying. Some of them looked intact, but were badly burnt. Even as she watched, one of the pigs pushed down a section of blackened fence, raising a cloud of sooty ash. Then it set off for a stroll.

Andrew cursed it under his breath.

Norah realised he could do more here than she could. ‘Why don’t I go into town to get these things?’

He hesitated. ‘Don’t you have things to do here?’

‘I think it’s more important that you fence in the animals than I clean the house, don’t you? And I’ll buy a loaf from the baker’s. We’ll make do with sandwiches and porridge for the moment.’

‘You’re right. I can do more here.’

‘I’m sure Pete will drive me back afterwards with the things I buy.’ There would be too much to carry, that was sure.

‘He has his own work to do. I don’t like to bother him.’

‘Well, I can ask, can’t I? We really need some help, love.’

‘If he’s too busy, bring what you can and I’ll go back for the rest later. We’ll manage somehow.’

Andrew hated asking for help. She’d noticed it before, this stubbornly independent streak in her husband, so she didn’t comment or argue. But if Pete didn’t help her to bring everything back, she’d be surprised and disappointed. It was such a pity Gil was away, because he’d have been here first thing this morning, helping out. And Andrew would have accepted his friend’s help more easily, wouldn’t have had a choice about it if she knew Gil.

She set off to walk into town, taking Janie with her to help carry things and leaving the boys to help their father mend the fences. All three were dressed in yesterday’s filthy, torn clothes.

It was going to be hard going setting things to rights, rebuilding what they’d lost.