Midsummer's Eve (24 page)

The relationship between him and Helena was a very unusual one. I was sure he thought that he had done his good deed by marrying her and there his responsibility ended. Helena said: “It was wonderful of him, but it is not like a marriage, Annora. It couldn’t be … after John. There couldn’t be anyone else for me.”

“Not after he deserted you!”

“He didn’t know about the baby.”

“He ought to,” I said.

“Oh, I couldn’t bear that. I wouldn’t want him to come back to me because he thought he ought to. I think that would be something between us all our lives, and it would have its effect on the child. He might resent it because it was due to the child that he had come back. After all,” she added with unexpected rationality, “if he had wanted to marry me, he would, no matter what anyone said. I mean if it had been the most important thing in the world …”

We took one of the buggies and went to the shops. There we bought clothes for the baby. I think Helena enjoyed that. We rode through the town and when we saw Hyde Park, we felt quite near home.

“These are our people, Helena,” I said. “We shouldn’t feel that we are strangers in a strange land.”

“I’m glad to be here with you, Annora. What should I have done if I had had to face all this at home?”

“There would have been a way. There always is.”

“But this was like a miracle. Your planning to come out here … and then my coming, too. Suppose I had been at home!”

“Your mother would have helped you.”

“I know. But I think I should have died of shame.”

“People don’t die of shame.”

“I should have done what I nearly did.”

“No more talk of that,” I said briskly. “I think this gown is absolutely lovely. Oh, Helena, I can’t wait for the baby. I’m already thinking of it as ours.”

It was quite a pleasant morning really. When we were back in the hotel we examined the clothes, put them away carefully and talked of the baby. I was thinking of my parents and wondering what they were doing. I imagined them, riding out in this strange land, and beside them, leading them, would be the boastful Greg.

Those days seemed long. I was waiting impatiently for the return of my family. I longed to hear what they had found at Sealands Creek.

Matthew was exuberant. He was succeeding beyond his expectations. He was taking Greg’s advice and not telling those he spoke to that he was recording their words. That way they spoke frankly.

When we dined in the evening he talked continuously of what he had discovered that day. He did not ask what we had been doing or how Helena was feeling. I have noticed since how so many of those who devote themselves to doing good for the masses have little time for the individual. True, Matthew had married Helena as an act of uncalculated goodness; but that was a spectacular event. It was the small things he had not time for.

I started to tell him about our shopping expedition but changed my mind.

“I met this fellow,” he was saying. “He’s been on the hulks before he came out. What luck for me! I have very little on the hulks. He told me they lived on board and left the hulk each day to do ten hours’ hard labour. His hulk was in the river … some of them were in the docks. He described it to me so that I could almost see it. I’m getting it on paper tonight so that I don’t forget a detail. There is a lower deck with a passage down the middle … and on each side of the passage the space is divided into wards. They have about twenty of them all jammed together for there is little space. There are no beds. They sleep in the darkness on the floor. It’s a terrible life. Many of them are glad when they leave the hulks for the journey across the sea. What these people suffer! It’s uncivilized. It’s got to be abolished sooner or later. I’m going to see this comes about. I’m not going to rest until I do.”

“I suppose,” I commented, “this is how things get done in the world. People like you protest forcibly through the right channels.”

“That’s so. Many of the men riot. They ill-treat … or attempt to ill-treat … their guards. That’s not the way. It has to be done peaceably … with words … words. That is where the strength lies.”

“And it is people like you, Matthew, who do it. I wish you all success.”

“I can’t do much until I get into Parliament and when I do that, all that I learn here will be of the utmost use to me.”

How could one talk to such a man about baby clothes!

My parents came back without Jacco.

They said: “He’s staying. He’s quite fascinated by the place and he’s all right with Greg and the people there.”

“It’s better than I thought it would be,” my mother explained. “It’s a long rambling sort of house, all on one floor. There are several rooms though, and we can all sleep there in moderate comfort. Greg, who was living there, says he’ll move out while we’re in residence. There’s a sort of cottage close by to which he can go. They call it a shack. The temporary hands sleep there when they come to help with shearing and that sort of thing. There are other shacks too where the workmen sleep. It’s quite a little village in a way. Apparently there are acres of land so your father is quite a landowner here. He says Greg’s been adding to it when the opportunity has arisen and he’s made quite a place of it.”

“I’m impressed,” said my father. “He’s certainly done a good job.”

“You’re not going to get so pleased with it that you want to stay?” I asked anxiously.

My father laid his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be afraid of that.”

“But we shall have to stay until Helena’s baby is born,” my mother pointed out.

“Yes, I know.”

“After that we’ll go. I think that will be quite long enough … even for Jacco.”

“And we’ll make ourselves as comfortable as possible while we’re here,” said my mother. “We’re going shopping tomorrow. I want some beds and linen chiefly. And we shall take some food with us. There is a township nearer than Sydney but that is a bit primitive. I think about a week will be enough to do all we need.”

There followed a week of activity. My mother and I shopped. Sometimes Helena came with us. She was moving into a stage of greater discomfort now and became very tired by the middle of the day. I insisted that she rest, which she did without much persuasion.

She was to come with us and so would Matthew at first, but naturally he would want to move about, otherwise how could he find the material he sought. He would be out looking for it, of course, and while he did Helena would be staying with us.

We were now in the height of summer and the heat was trying. My father said it would be more tolerable in the country. Unfamiliar insects plagued us considerably and seemed to take a special fancy to our English skins. The flies were a pest. I had never seen so many.

At home it would be winter and from afar that seemed preferable to this overpowering heat. Each morning we were awakened by the sun streaming into our rooms; and there it stayed all day and no blinds could keep it out.

The day before we were ready to leave Greg arrived. I heard his voice before I saw him. He was talking to my father in the foyer of the hotel.

“I thought you might need a guide. It’s easy to get lost in the bush. So I’ve come to offer myself. Some of the stuff’s arrived. I’ve set it up where I thought you’d want it. If it’s wrong, no need to fret. Some of the boys will soon shift it round to please you.”

My father said: “That is good of you. I thought I knew my way. Remember, it’s not my first visit; we did find our way back. But it will be a help to have someone who is familiar with the country.”

“Good-o,” said Greg. “We’ll start at dawn tomorrow. Then we can get a good way in the morning. We can pull up for rest somewhere out of the sun if that’s possible. Think it might be. Then start off again in the late afternoon. That way we avoid the worst of the heat.”

I could see that he was going to put himself in charge; but I did realize that as he was on familiar terrain it was better so.

Helena could not ride and there was a buggy which Greg would drive. My mother and I would ride in it with Helena. My father and Matthew would go on horseback.

It was rather pleasant in the early morning. We set off with Greg in the driving seat, taking charge of the two grey horses. With the sun not yet up in its full fury the air was comparatively cool. We left the town behind and came into the open country. Gregory talked over his shoulder to us as he drove along pointing out the great eucalyptus trees which were such a feature of the landscape.

“We call them gums,” he said. “All over Australia you’ll find gums.”

The yellow bushes enchanted me. They seemed to be as ubiquitous as the gum trees.

“Wattle,” he said. “That’s another of our plants. When you see wattle like that you know you’re in Australia.”

“We call it mimosa at home,” I said.

“That’s wattle,” he said firmly.

Now we had come to what he called “the scrub,” which consisted of stunted shrubs. “You have to be careful not to wander out here. You can get lost. People have been known to walk for days looking for the way and then find themselves back where they started because they’ve been walking in circles.”

There were some beautiful birds. I recognized the parrots and cockatoos and he pointed out others—lyre birds, regent birds and fly catchers.

“
They
,” I said, “must be very useful here.”

“You’re referring to our fly population. You have to admit there are a few in the world who love us.”

The morning was wearing on and the sun climbing high.

“Soon,” shouted Greg to the riders, “we’ll call a halt.”

He found a patch of trees—tall eucalyptus. There was not a great deal of shade. The country was rocky here and he led us to a mass of projecting stones beneath which it was almost like a cave.

“There’s a little creek here,” he said. “It should give the horses some refreshment. And the boulder will give us a little shade. This is where we stay.”

It was pleasant lying under the boulder while my mother handed round cold meat and bread which we had brought with us. There was ale to drink.

Greg had stretched himself out close to me. He said: “Now we’ll stay here. No hurry. No use going off till it’s a bit cooler. We’ll do better that way and we’ll just about get to a little place I know where we can stay the night. They are few and far between … these accommodation places. Not enough to keep ’em going. This one’s run by a couple whose main business is farming. Taking the odd guests is a bonus. It helps to make ends meet.”

“You know your way around and we’re lucky to have you, Greg,” said my father.

“Should do,” replied Greg, conceding the point. “I’ve been hereabouts quite a bit.”

I asked Helena if she were comfortable and she said she was.

“I should try to sleep,” I said.

“We should all try to sleep,” added Greg.

So having eaten we lay there through that hot afternoon. I half dozed and found myself thinking of all that had happened in London and how far away all that seemed from this land of hot sun, bright birds, tall eucalyptus and the seemingly endless scrub. I thought of poor tormented Joe and wondered what he was doing now; I thought of Rolf who had a habit of forcing his way into my thoughts. Would he be riding round his estate making plans to enlarge it?

I had fallen asleep.

I was awakened by movement all around me.

I heard Greg cry: “Come on now. Time to get moving.”

And soon we were riding through that sun-baked land. We went at a good pace. Greg said: “Want to make sure of our beds for tonight.”

It was just getting dark when we arrived. It was a small house of one storey. A woman came to the door as we approached. She must have heard the clatter of horses’ hoofs and the wheels of the buggy. It had not been the most comfortable of rides, particularly the last part when we had travelled at some speed.

I looked anxiously at Helena. She was pale but that was not unusual.

“Was it very uncomfortable?” I whispered to her.

“Well … a little.”

“We do go at a spanking pace.”

“But you feel safe with Greg,” she said; and I had to agree with that.

We were taken in to a room which was already laid for a meal. Steaks were cooking on a big stove in a kitchen where the heat must have been intolerable.

“I’ve made some dampers,” said our hostess. “They should go down a treat.”

And we sat down and ate as we were, although Mother, Helena and I would have preferred to wash first. But we were hungry and the food tasted good.

The woman and her husband—Gladys and Tom Pickory—hovered about us while we ate. They kept refilling the tankards from which we drank beer. We were far more tired than we had realized and I could scarcely keep my eyes open.

There were only two rooms available. My mother, Helena and I were put in one, my father, Matthew and Greg in the other. We were given some water in which to wash but there was not much of it. However we lay in the one big bed and were soon fast asleep.

We were to leave at dawn, the procedure being as before so that we could get as far as possible before the intense heat of the day.

I had a few words with Mrs. Pickory before we left. She said Mr. Donnelly had told her he would endeavour to bring her a party. He had called in on his way to Sydney. “Sometimes he calls in and stays a night on his journeys back and forth. He tells other people about us. We’re working this up into a real little business, thanks to Mr. Donnelly.”

I noticed how her eyes shone when she spoke of him as though there was something godlike about him. I supposed it was that innate masculinity, that sense of power which appealed to some people. Even Helena had said she felt safe with him.

Then we were off again. The scenery all around was the same as we had seen before. I could understand how people got lost in what Greg called the outback.

With customary efficiency he found us a spot to rest and eat just as he had on the previous day and in due course we were on our way to the next house of accommodation; and after that it would be Sealands Creek and Cadorsons.

We were going along at a fair pace when something happened. My father called: “Look out. The wheel’s coming off.”