Hunger Town (39 page)

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Authors: Wendy Scarfe

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BOOK: Hunger Town
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However I had risen very early and as the afternoon wore on the heat and the dust exhausted me. It was difficult, because if we shut the car windows we suffocated and if we opened them we swallowed dust. Eventually I fell into a doze.

Harry shook me gently. ‘Wake up, darling.'

I stirred drowsily. My head had fallen against his shoulder and he leaned down and kissed me softly. ‘Wake up, darling, we've reached Renmark. You must see the Murray River. It's grand.'

I sat up, smiling at him. From the front seat Jock grinned at us. ‘You two canoodling lovebirds, don't you know we're on serious business?' He glanced slyly at Nathan and winked at us. ‘How about a leg stretch, Nathan? And a beer at the local pub? I could do with a pint to wash down all this dust.'

We were all covered in a film of it. I shook the skirt of my dress and was immediately enveloped in a cloud. ‘Sorry,' I apologised between sneezes. ‘I'll have a good shake when I get out.'

‘We all will, darling.' Harry's face had little rivulets of ochre sweat. ‘Pull over, Nathan.'

Nathan drew the car into a dirt siding beneath gigantic red gums.

‘Before beer,' I said, scrambling out, ‘I must see the river first.' And without waiting I ran along the dusty path which, crackling with leaves and twigs beneath my feet, led to the river bank.

‘Watch out for snakes,' Harry called after me. ‘They like water.'

And there it was. I gasped at its immensity. I stood on a coarse sandy beach and before me a vast volume of brown water, at least half a mile from bank to bank, made its slow and inexorable way to the sea. Its grandeur overwhelmed me.

In the shallows of the sandy beach the water was palely golden and lapped gently. Further out the current pulled twigs and leaves and other debris into its flow and spun them around in curling eddies and tiny whirlpools. It smelled quite differently from the river at the Port. At home there were always traces of salt in the air; often mixed with fumes of coal, the dry mustiness of wheat bags, or the rancid smell of wool fleeces. Here there was only the warm foetid smell of water shifting a cumbersome load of earth in its bowels.

I kicked off my shoes and crept into the water to my knees. It was cool and I bent and washed my arms and gathered some in my hands and splashed my face. The three men had followed me but still stood, stuffy in their shoes and socks.

‘Come on, Harry,' I called. ‘Come and join me. It's lovely.'

He laughed at me. ‘I'll wait for Mildura, darling. It's the same river.'

‘But not the same water,' I said wisely. ‘See those leaves? They were swirling about a minute ago right here. Now they're yards downstream.'

‘She's a father and mother of a river, all right,' Jock said. ‘You keep out of that current, girlie.'

I came out reluctantly. Harry gave me his handkerchief to dry my feet but it was so hot I just shoved them into my shoes. I looked along the bank where the mighty roots of the eucalypts knotted and twisted and twined themselves into gargantuan shapes. ‘My sketchbook is in the car, Harry. Would I have time?'

‘No, Jude, the boys want a beer. You'll have oodles of time in Mildura.'

Regretfully I followed him.

At the pub Nathan and Jock leaned on the bar. As women weren't permitted in the bar room Harry joined me in the lounge. He brought me a long glass of ice-cold lemon squash.

‘They've tried quizzing the barman about Mildura but he doesn't seem to know much.'

‘Is it far, Harry?'

‘Probably a couple of hours, depending on the road.'

‘Where are we staying?'

‘I'm not sure. But Nathan says it's a bit out of town. There's a camp there for the telegraph men and they have permanent housing.' He looked anxious. ‘I hope it's OK, Jude. Nathan said it's suitable.'

‘But he hasn't seen it?'

‘No, of course not. But he said the Party man in Mildura was reliable. He's assured me, Jude.'

‘How do we find our way there?'

Nathan says that Bernie-Benito's meeting us at the first petrol station we come to as we enter the town. He'll show us the way.'

I had always been fond of Bernie-Benito and my spirits, which had taken a tumble, revived. ‘Bernie's OK? He's found work? The police have left him alone?'

‘Yes, so I understand, and he's been doing some great Party work amongst the Italian fruit pickers. He's been Nathan's contact with other members. I gather it's a pretty rough hillbilly sort of place and they have to hold meetings in secret.'

This news didn't appeal to me as much as it seemed to do to Harry. The thought of the excitement brightened his eyes. I was puzzled. ‘If Bernie has the Party situation well in hand why does Nathan need you and Jock here?'

‘It's support, Judith. Keeping up connections. Educating the workers in the role of the proletariat. Making them aware of the importance of the Central Organising Committee.'

‘In other words,' I said dryly, ‘keeping a grip on them in case they slide off the path into anarchism or socialism or reformism.'

‘Really, Jude,' he protested, ‘you're always so cynical.'

‘Not at all, Harry. It's just that my stock in trade is a keen sense of irony and I have a responsibility to keep your feet on the ground.'

He blew the froth off his second glass of beer and looked at me wickedly. ‘I much prefer our other responsibilities. I hope our hut is very very private. An idyll by the river for a delayed honeymoon.'

As he had tried to look lascivious, I laughed. ‘Oh, Harry, you.'

‘Oh, you, Judith. You're such a card. But I'll always love you no matter how much you laugh at me or …' For an instant he was solemn. ‘Maybe because of it.'

‘Well,' I responded, ‘I never intended to add Nathan and Jock to our honeymoon. But I guess we can get rid of them somehow. Do you think we could frighten Nathan by inviting him to come swimming
au naturel
, as Miss Marie would say?' I pretended to look coy.

Harry chuckled. ‘We could try. But we might have to hatch another plot for Jock. He's made of sterner stuff.'

Bernie-Benito was waiting for us. He lounged against the side wall of the small petrol station with its twin bowsers. Nathan pulled up and Jock jumped out. ‘There's me little mate,' he said, and rushed to grab Bernie's hand. He shook it vigorously and slapped him on the back. ‘How are you, you little fascist bastard?'

Bernie sloped towards us with Jock's arm draped about his shoulder. He grinned at Nathan and Harry and shook hands. ‘Judith,' he looked soulfully at me, ‘lovely Judith.'

As I gave him my hand he bent and kissed it gently. ‘Dear Bernie,' I said and reaching up kissed him on the cheek. ‘And you're OK?'

‘OK and my English much better.'

I winked at him. ‘Don't try to trick me, Bernie. Your English has always been much better.'

He smiled slyly and flicked his hand across his throat. ‘You like my …?'

‘No,' I said. ‘You know that and you only do it to tease. It's all a big pretence, Bernie. You've never killed anyone.'

His eyes grew distant. ‘Lovely Judith, you think not? Italy under Mussolini—another country.'

Jock drew him away and I stood by the car on my own while the garage attendant filled the petrol tank. Bernie talked quietly to Jock but gesticulating wildly with his hands he once or twice glanced at me, then back to Jock shaking his head.

He doesn't want me here, I thought.

Harry was talking to Nathan and he, too, looked anxious. The garage man went over to Nathan who paid him. I got back into the car.

A few minutes later the four men joined me and we squeezed Bernie into the back seat with Harry and me.

‘We're going to the telegraph men's camp,' Harry said.

I was suspicious. ‘How well …?'

He interrupted me. ‘It'll be OK, Judith. Nathan has fixed everything.'

I thought it better not to respond.

Jock had had his directions from Bernie and he told Nathan who turned the car around and headed out of town. We reached a turn-off along a dirt and gravel track. The car jolted violently.

‘Poor Pat,' I said to Harry, ‘there may not be much of his car left.'

‘She'll be right,' Jock said. ‘These old crates are tougher than they look.'

‘Or feel.' My laugh shook as we crashed through another series of potholes.

The track wound between looming eucalypts for about a quarter of a mile. Finally we emerged into a cleared area, the telegraph men's camp. Through the trees I saw the glint of water and knew we were again close to the river. There were half a dozen galvanised-iron huts and in the centre of the area a brick fireplace.

Nathan pulled up and we sat silently, viewing our accommodation. Harry took a deep breath; Bernie whistled a few bars of ‘
Avanti popolo
' and stopped; Jock cleared his throat; and Nathan got out and stood irresolutely.

A tall shambolic man carrying a bucket of water ambled through the trees from the river. He put the bucket on the ground, stared at us, and then hurried forward. ‘Gooday, comrades,' he greeted us, eagerly shaking hands with the men. Then he saw me. ‘Christ!' he exclaimed. ‘A woman! You didn't tell me you had a woman with you.' He scratched the back of his neck helplessly and repeated, ‘A woman. Jesus Christ, this is no place … We weren't expecting …' He stopped.

‘She's my wife,' Harry said tightly and with a mixture of consternation and anger he turned on Nathan. ‘You said it'd be comfortable. You said you'd fixed everything. I trusted you.'

Nathan looked embarrassed.

‘Steady, laddie,' Jock said, ‘he couldn't have known.'

Harry was not to be soothed or quietened. ‘Then he shouldn't have been so bloody confident,' he shouted.

Now Nathan was angry. ‘I didn't want you to bring Judith. You insisted.'

I was tired of being the centre of their conflict and argued over like an inconvenient parcel. ‘Stop it all of you. Let's see where we are to sleep tonight and tomorrow we can discuss it.' I was very weary after the long day's travelling and they, too, were exhausted.

‘Oh, Jude,' Harry was remorseful, ‘I'm so sorry.'

‘It's not your fault,' I said. I glanced at Nathan who also looked uncertain and unhappy. ‘It's not anyone's fault. It's just been a big misunderstanding.'

I smiled at our host, who stood helplessly, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. ‘Have you two separate huts?' I asked. ‘One for my husband and myself and one for Nathan and Jock?'

He was gruff but polite, clearly relieved that I had broken in on the dispute. He led the way to one of the huts. I followed him and Harry walked beside me, swearing under his breath.

‘Ssh,' I said. ‘That poor man. Having me here has made him completely miserable. This is a men's camp and I'm the intruder.'

‘I could kill Nathan,' Harry said savagely. ‘He never thinks of anything except the bloody Party. He's not human, just a walking set of dogmas.'

I took his arm. ‘Ssh,' I said again. ‘It's only for one night. We'll find something better tomorrow. Mildura's a town. There must be a reasonable pub.'

The huts were one-roomed, built only for sleeping in. The beds were a pair of single camp stretchers with a thin mattress, a ticking pillow, and a grey blanket. Folded up on the end of each stretcher was a set of cheap sheets, a pillowcase and a small rough towel. Somebody had made some basic arrangements for our arrival. There was a shelf and a few hooks on the wood uprights of the wall to hang clothes. A couple of windows were holes in the wall with a wooden shutter that swung outwards and upwards. I could hear the zing and whine of mosquitoes, but there were no nets.

Harry took one glimpse of the two stretchers and snorted disgustedly. ‘So much for our romantic idyll. A second honeymoon was it, Judith?'

I laughed and kissed him.

‘Where do we wash and toilet?' I whispered.

He groaned. ‘God knows. Let's leave here at once, Jude. I'll make Nathan and Jock find a pub for the night.'

‘No, it's too late, Harry. Just ask him.'

Harry went outside. I sat on one of the stretchers. The night was cooling. I hugged my cardigan about me.

‘He says there's an earth lavatory on the far side of the clearing and he'll give you a torch but we need to bring a bucket of water from the river for washing and we need, if we want to, to have a bath in the river.'

At his dismay I chuckled. ‘We meant to go dipping together, Harry.'

‘But not this way.'

‘Is there another?' I pretended to be arch. ‘After all the river is on our doorstep.'

‘Oh, Jude,' he repeated. ‘I do love you. You have such sterling resilience.'

The telegraph man waited anxiously for us outside. Harry had found out that his name was Andy.

‘It's very nice,' I lied, ‘and looks quite comfortable.'

Relieved, he grinned at us. ‘I'll make you a cuppa and a biscuit. Billy's on the boil an' I bought some clean china mugs. Thought you city types mightn't like tin mugs. Glad I did now we have a lady.'

Around the fire sat two old lounge chairs with broken springs and torn fabric, several old wooden seats, and two stools. The telegraph man offered me a lounge chair and I sank onto the creaking uneven springs, trying to shift my weight so they didn't stick into me.

It was a glorious night, still, clear and cool. I had never before seen such a host of brilliant stars. It was as if they were appliquéd on an ebony cloth. At home stars shone and sometimes glittered in the sea but often streetlights dimmed and diminished their radiance. Here such light sprang from them that I had the illusion of a kaleidoscope of rubies, sapphires, emeralds and topazes, and each star flashed at me with its individual colour and its individual beauty.

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