The Forgotten Pearl (18 page)

Hope you are well. Write soon.

All my love,

Phoebe xxx

18

Austerity

Cecilia walked into the sitting room, where Poppy was gazing out the window at the view.

‘Poppy, I'm just going down to the Corso to . . .' Cecilia paused and gazed at Poppy critically. ‘Oh dear, I think you've grown again overnight. That skirt is indecently short, Poppy Trehearne!'

Poppy glanced down at her hemline and shrugged. It was rather short, but all her clothes were shrinking. Other than her school uniforms, she hadn't bought any new clothes for over a year – there had been too many other important things to think about.

‘Come on,' Cecilia ordered. ‘Let's go and see if we can buy you a new dress.'

Together, mother and daughter wandered down the hill to the Corso – the main shopping street in the village of Manly. There were several shops purporting to sell clothes, but wartime shortages meant that the shelves were pitifully
bare. There was hardly anything that would fit Poppy, and definitely nothing remotely pretty. Most clothes were utilitarian overalls and clothes for factory work in drab shades of khaki, brown and grey.

‘Perhaps we should check the haberdashery and make you something,' suggested Cecilia at last. The haberdashery was also sparsely stocked, but Cecilia was determined to find something useful. At last, she purchased two matching floral tablecloths, a bolt of blackout material, thread, ribbon, needles and two dress patterns.

Poppy looked dubiously at the tablecloths and heavier blackout material as the sales assistant wrapped them up.

Back at home, Cecilia took Poppy's measurements then lay out the patterns and started cutting. Cecilia seemed very secretive that week, working late into the night. A few days later, she triumphantly brought Poppy a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with green ribbon.

‘Surprise, darling!' Cecilia called.

‘Thanks, Mum – but it's not my birthday.'

‘Let's call it a
belated
Christmas present,' Cecilia replied. ‘Goodness knows there wasn't much to celebrate at Christmas time.'

Poppy grinned with delight. It had been a long time since she had received a present or a surprise. She untied the ribbon and undid the paper, careful not to tear it.

Inside was a pile of folded clothes. There were two dresses: one a pretty floral with a nipped-in waist, short sleeves and a slightly flared skirt, the other a sleeveless black cotton dress with a longer, fuller skirt and a tightfitting, ruched bodice. Underneath were a pair of black shorts and a floral halter top.

‘Mum, you are truly astonishing. These are beautiful.' Poppy held the dresses up against her, one after the other.

‘Try them on. I hope they fit well.'

Poppy skipped to the bathroom and tried on the floral dress first, the one cut from the two tablecloths and trimmed with green ribbon. She slipped on Bryony's silver dance shoes and whirled and twirled, flaring out the skirt with delight.

‘You look gorgeous,' Cecilia told her. ‘Absolutely gorgeous.'

Poppy curtseyed graciously and then skipped away to slip on the black dress created from the blackout material. The dress, with its slim shoulder straps and beaded belt, instantly made Poppy feel glamorous and sophisticated. This was not a little girl's dress. It was a French film star dress.

Cecilia smiled triumphantly. ‘You look beautiful.'

‘Thank you, Mum. It must have taken you ages to make these! I love them.'

‘It's a pleasure, darling, and I really couldn't have you walking the streets looking like an orphan! I also added a thick black band to the bottom of your white skirt. Thank goodness for blackout curtains!'

Poppy was just dancing around the sitting room in her new dress when the bell jangled down below. Cecilia and Poppy ignored it, more interested in the success of the new dresses. The bell jangled again.

Poppy flew to the window and leant out. A young man stood below, twisting his hat in his hands.

‘Who is it?' she called. ‘Oh . . . no, it can't be . . .' Poppy flew down the stairs and threw open the door. ‘Is it really you?'

Jack stood on the doorstep, smiling. Lovely, familiar Jack, so far from Alexandra Downs. Poppy threw herself at him in a hug.

‘Jack, it's so good to see you. What on earth are you doing here?'

‘Hello, Midget,' Jack replied with a crooked smile. ‘Now it's my turn to ask if it's really
you
? You look far too glamorous to be the grubby Miss Poppy Trehearne, the famous croc hunter and adventurer, who I know from faraway Myilly Point.'

Poppy blushed.

‘Yes, of course it's me,' retorted Poppy with mock indignation. ‘I'm just wearing a new dress that Mama made for me from blackout curtains. Well, don't stand there like a stunned mullet – come in! Tell me what you're doing in Sydney.'

Cecilia and Maude were also delighted to see Jack, a familiar face to remind them of the good old days in Darwin. He was soon seated on the couch, sipping on a cup of steaming, fragrant sweet tea that Cecilia had made using her precious ration of tea leaves.

‘Well, I'm here because your father sent us,' Jack explained.

‘You've seen Mark?' Cecilia asked longingly. ‘How is he? Did he look well?'

‘Yes, Dr Trehearne was fine but busy. He was at the new hospital at Adelaide River. You see, my father had a nasty fall while we were mustering. We took him to see your father, and he insisted that we bring him to Sydney to see a specialist. My mother didn't want to leave me alone at Alexandra Downs, and she didn't want to leave
Father, either. So, we organised a manager to look after the property and came to Sydney. I think Mum was glad to see the back of the Territory after the bombing and the talk of a Japanese invasion. Although, of course, she'd never admit to it.'

Jack grinned at Poppy before continuing. ‘We brought a letter of recommendation from Doctor Trehearne, so Father is at Royal North Shore Hospital. Mother is with him now, and we are staying at a hotel in North Sydney so we can be close to him.'

Poppy felt a rush of excitement – Jack would be staying here in Sydney while his father was in hospital. She fought to quell the selfish emotion.

‘That's terrible, Jack. Will he be all right? Will he be in hospital very long?' Poppy asked.

‘He's a tough old thing,' Jack admitted, smiling. ‘The Germans couldn't get him in the last war, and I don't think he'll be beaten by a cranky old horse. Anyway, he's seeing an excellent surgeon, who thinks that with the right care he'll be back on his feet in a few weeks. However, he won't be back on a horse for at least a year. The manager has agreed to stay on for twelve months, so Mum thinks we should rent a little flat near the sea where he can have a long recuperation.'

Cecilia nodded and smiled with relief. ‘That at least is good news. And what will you do, Jack?'

Jack frowned at his boots and then glanced quickly at Poppy. ‘I'm planning on going to university and studying engineering,' he confessed. ‘I'll need to do one more year of school in Sydney to complete my Leaving Certificate, then I'll apply to Sydney Uni.'

A wave of sorrow crossed Cecilia's face. Poppy guessed she was reminded of Edward and wondering where he was and if he was alive.

‘How are your brothers?' Poppy asked, changing the subject.

‘They are training near Ingleburn and are due to go overseas in a few weeks. Mum is hoping to see them before they go. She's trying to be brave, but she's clearly worried.'

Poppy jumped to her feet, feeling restless with all the thoughts of distant loved ones. ‘Come on, Jack. It's too nice a day to be sitting inside chatting. Why don't Maude and I take you for a walk and a swim? It would be lovely.'

Jack agreed, so they all separated to change clothes and find towels. Poppy wore her new shorts and floral halter-neck top over her swimming costume. Maude found Jack some swimming trunks that had belonged to her father.

They walked down the hill towards the harbour. It was a glorious day, the autumn sun beaming down and glinting off the bay. From the harbour they cut through the centre of the village, past the school with its large brick air-raid shelter dominating the playground, towards the beach.

A couple of the famous Norfolk pine trees had been cut down to make way for machine-gun emplacements, while sandbags reinforced some of the buildings along the Steyne. The white sand of the beach was fortified with barbed-wire entanglements, concrete barriers and tank traps, with only small gaps where people could access the surf and sand. A group of soldiers marched past on their way back up to the Army station at North Head.

‘Let me take a photo of you girls,' suggested Jack, taking his Brownie camera from around his neck.

Maude and Poppy obligingly posed, slinging their arms around each other and laughing, the sparkling sea behind them.

‘Beautiful,' Jack said. ‘A perfect autumn day.'

They continued on, chatting, joking and laughing.

‘If you are going to stay in Sydney for a while, you might want to become a volunteer lifesaver,' suggested Maude, gesturing towards the surf club at the southern end of the beach. ‘All the lifesavers have joined up and are fighting overseas, so they've had to recruit from the local school boys. I'm sure they'd love a strong, practical country boy! You should learn to surf while you're here, too. It's lots of fun.'

Poppy and Jack looked at the large breakers crashing a little way out. To their eyes, the waves seemed huge and powerful compared to the gentle waves in Darwin. Maude led the way down onto the beach. The sand between the fortifications was crowded with mothers and children, servicemen on leave, and workers enjoying a well-earned Saturday afternoon.

The trio stripped off their clothes, lay down their towels and raced to the surf. The autumn seawater felt freezing to Poppy after the tropical climate of the Top End. She shivered as the water washed over her toes and retreated hastily.

‘Come on, Poppy,' shrieked Maude, grabbing her friend by the hand and dragging her back. Jack waded out to join them in the knee-deep water.

‘I agree with you, Poppy,' retorted Jack, laughing. ‘It's icy.'

Maude retaliated by splashing them both. Poppy squealed and ran, scooping up a handful of water and flinging it at Maude. Jack roared and chased Maude, picking her up and throwing her out into the deeper water. Maude spluttered and giggled. Jack turned for Poppy and sprinted after her.

‘No, don't you dare!' Poppy screamed. Jack had a dangerous glint in his eye, so Poppy turned and fled up the beach towards the towels. Jack overtook her and scooped her up in his arms, running back towards the surf. Poppy squealed, half in trepidation and half in delight. Jack jumped through a wave and they both went under, arms and legs flailing.

Once they were all wet, they soon adapted to the temperature of the water and spent ages swimming and splashing. Maude taught them how to bodysurf, surging like a dolphin on the powerful waves. They staggered out at last, tired and exhilarated, and collapsed on the towels in the sand. Poppy shook her dark curls to dry them and sighed with contentment.

‘Why don't we go to Burt's Cafe for a milkshake?' Maude suggested. ‘He does the best chocolate milkshakes you've ever tasted.'

‘Sounds like a great idea,' agreed Poppy, sitting up. ‘My treat – Mum gave me some pocket money last week.'

The three dressed, sand freckling their bare legs and feet, and wandered back up to the esplanade. Poppy felt content, walking along between her two best friends, the crust of salt on her skin and the warmth of the sun on her back.

As they neared the wharf, a group of servicemen on leave milled around, laughing and chatting.

One young man caught sight of Poppy and Maude and wolf-whistled. The other servicemen turned to stare at the girls, nudging each other and whispering. Poppy blushed and avoided their gaze, embarrassed by the attention.

‘Hey, little lady,' the wolf-whistler drawled in a strong American accent. ‘Would you like to join me for an ice cream?'

Poppy tried to ignore the serviceman, but he strolled along beside them, hands in his pockets. ‘Hey, honey, I won't bite.' Poppy smelt a waft of alcohol on his breath. ‘Why don't you ditch your brother and come have some fun? Bring your friend along, too, if you like. I have plenty of friends who'd like to meet a pretty Aussie like her.'

Poppy looked up and shook her head. ‘Thanks, but we're busy,' she replied, hurrying forward.

‘Awww shucks, don't be shy.' He smiled, keeping pace. ‘What'll it be – chocolate or vanilla? How about a double cone?'

‘Thanks, mate,' Jack said firmly, ‘but we're on our way somewhere. She's not interested.'

An Australian soldier passing the opposite way overheard the exchange and stopped. He leant in and pointed his finger threateningly at the American soldier. ‘Why won't you drunken Yanks ever listen?' he yelled. ‘You seppos think you own the blasted place! Leave our Aussie girls alone.'