Earth, page 5
‘Mr Angliss would be grateful, I suppose.’
‘He was, Claudie. Very grateful.’
‘He didn’t smell a rat?’
‘He was too busy smellin’ horse flesh, Claudie, he was smellin’ money, he was smellin’ the roses in the mountin’ yard of Flemington, he was smellin’ an invitation ta Government House, ‘e was smellin’ the sound a’ the name Sir William Bloody Angliss.’
‘No wonder he was grateful. But there’d be no reward except the handshake of a gentleman.’
‘Well there y’are, Claudie. I was kinda expectin’ the gentleman’s handshake an’ so I had a bit of a squiz about an’ spied about thirty sheets a’ used corrugated iron leanin’ against the barn. “Them sheets of iron,” I says kinda casual, “they’d be a bit good ta chuck down the tip, Mr Angliss. I could get rid of ‘em for ya. Get ‘em out a’ ya way, seein’ as the new barn’s about ready ta paint.” An’ he sorta looks over at the barn as if it just occurred to him how they got there, like as if once the new roof was on the old roof never mattered any more. “Oh dear chap, feel free, feel free.” An’ I did, Claudie, I felt very free because I give Angliss’ rouseabout, Arnie Tomkins, a bottle a’ port I found a bit loose at Snodgrass’s and Arnie helped me load the lot yesterdee mornin’, early.’
‘You said you were starting on a neighbour’s shed.’
‘I was. Angliss is our neighbour. Sort of. An’ I was startin’ on his shed. Startin’ ta carry it ‘orf. Underneath that iron was all the ol’ bearers an’ battens an’ Arnie managed to include five pound a’ nails, two pots a’ paint, a door an’ a window what got mixed up by accident with the ol’ tin. Altogether it’ll make a bedroom for a baby, Claudie.’
‘It’ll have to.’
‘Ya see I happened to mention the boy of Betty’s to Angliss an’ he thought ‘e was gettin’ a big boy, you know twelve or somethin’, someone who’d be useful on a horse, or lookin’ after sheep or somethin’. An’ I said how Betty’s baby was only a week or two old an’ pretty sickly with diphtheria an’ scours an’ looked like ‘e might have a lame leg or paralysis or somethin’. Not what Angliss had in mind at all. So I said we’d look out for the kid an’ try an’ get him right for the farm work. Angliss was very grateful: threw in a roll of canvas I seen sittin’ in the tack room. Make a good sail for Tuppeny Bark.’
‘You’ve done pretty well for yourself, Frank.’
‘For us, Claudie, I done it for us. I done it so’s we could build a new room.’
‘You’ll have to.’
‘Well of course, I know there’s not enough room as it is.’
‘Here, Frank, put ya hand here.’
‘Well now, Claudie, I don’t mind if I do, me darlin’.’
‘That’s not what I’m tellin’ ya, Frank. Think.’
‘I’m thinkin’.’
‘Think a bit more.’
‘I’m thinkin’ a lot more. But I was also thinkin’ we might be a bit past all a’ that. Ya wouldn’a’ made a mistake would ya?’
‘Would a midwife be makin’ a mistake about such things, Frank?’
‘Well there y’are then. Another one after all these years.’
‘Yes.’
‘Well I’d better get on with that room then.’
‘Yes.’
‘Quick smart.’
‘Yes.’
‘An’ how many months do ya think I’d have to build the new room?’
‘About six.’
‘Should be about right.’
‘Mmm.’
‘An’ suddenly two old grandparents who was lookin’ forward to raisin’ a few hens and parsnips an’ the like ‘ave got three kids on their hands.’
‘Well Alf’ll go off ta work or somethin’ eventually an’ the black one’ll go off ta Angliss.’
‘I think I recall tellin’ Angliss the boy looked like ‘e could be blind in one eye as well, perhaps a bit retarded. Angliss didn’t seem in no hurry.’
‘No doubt.’
‘I appreciate it, Claudie. Yer a good woman. Yer got a heart like a horse . . . and a body like Chloe.’
‘Frank.’
‘It’s true, yer beautiful, Claudie, an’ I love ya with all me heart.’
‘I shouldn’t have been so reluctant about Betty’s baby. I was thinking I might be losing you, Frank.’
‘Never, and besides when they get their talons out a’ Betty she can take the kid back. I told her it might be possible.’
‘You’ve been making a lot of decisions on your own, Frank.’
‘I’m sorry, Claudie, I’ve been tryin’ ta do right by everyone an’ I was relyin’ on you, I was relyin’ on that heart a’ yours, that lovin’ heart.’
‘An’ lucky I had other things on me mind, Frank or I mightn’t have been so agreeable.’
‘Anyway, she’s done. A new family fa Darby an’ Joan.’
‘Frank.’
‘Mmm.’
‘You woke me up last night.’
‘Did I?’
‘You took my hand and you ran your finger down each of mine and then you just cradled it in yours.’
‘Did I?’
‘It was such a loving gesture, Frank. It made my heart kind of shrink inside me. And then I pulled you on top of me and you went inside me, just like that, still sound asleep. Do you remember? Were you awake at all?’
‘All I can remember is your arms around me and the heat of you.’
‘You slept on me like that for half an hour. You nearly crushed the wind out of me.’
‘Sorry, darlin’.’
‘I loved it, Frank, I loved having you inside me like that, so gentle, so quiet, so tender, Frank. It made me love you more and more. We must never part, Frank, I beg you, I’m sure there are no other men as loving as you.’
‘We’ve had our disagreements, Claudie.’
‘We have that, Frank, but last night proved to me that it doesn’t matter. I felt you really loved me, Frank. In your marrow. You do love me, Frank, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do, Claudie, even when we’re havin’ a barney all I wanna do is hold you in my arms. I’d be nothin’ without ya, darlin’, nothin’ at all. I’m too deep in you, now. I’d never be able to look another woman in the face. I’d always be thinkin’ of you.’
‘Oh, Frank, I’m so lucky, and yet when I think of Gertie, my heart’s like a stone. I saw her the other day, and it’d been my intention to hug her, tell her we loved her, but as soon as I saw her all that went out the window and we were back to yelling at each other. Why do I do that, Frank?’
‘Because you love her.’
‘At times I think she’s right to search for what we’ve got and then I think, she’s wrong, that’s not how you find it. But she’s so stubborn.’
‘Like her mother.’
‘And then I just get angry and hard and I hate myself afterwards.’
‘Gertie could help a bit, couldn’t she? She’s not a child anymore.’
‘But I’m her mother, I’m supposed – ’
‘Well, we’ll keep trying. Maybe she’ll have better luck soon, and we can all be together again.’
‘Oh, Frank, that’s not what I feel. It doesn’t feel like that’s how it’ll be.’
‘Well, we can only do our best. All of us.’
*
‘So. Twenty four-be-two-an’-a-halfs fa the bearers. Forty odd . . . what was it . . . where’s me bit a’ paper . . . an’ pencil . . . forty . . . three . . . good . . . forty-three four-be-twos for the frame . . . should get enough noggins outa the off-cuts. Trusses outa that heap of four-be-three or whatever it is . . . yes . . . four-be-three or close enough . . . battens outa that three-be-two-and-a-half . . . bit light maybe . . . but there’s a heap of it, I’ll run a few extra . . . enough iron to do two roofs . . . should be able to get the walls outa that . . . line it with them packin’ cases Snodgrass don’t know he’s got . . . had . . . door’d go ‘bout here I reckon, an’ the window . . . well, the window’d go . . . here . . . be able ta see the evenin’ star as he’s goin’ to bed . . . as they’re goin’ ta bed . . . might need another window . . . or what about that big lump a’ glass in the saddle room at the Mornin’ Star . . . I’d ‘ave to buy that . . . whadda ya reckon . . . few pound a’ fish do it? An’ a crayfish . . . better throw in a cray . . . then just box it in up this end . . . doesn’t hafta open . . . box it up an’ then they’ll both have a winda . . . an’ the one up this end’d see that there skerrick a’ moon risin’ up through the lemon tree. Hafta watch out fa the lemon tree . . . prune her back a bit . . . just enough so there’s still shade on the north-west wall . . . pretty good, I reckon, Frank . . . looks like it’ll work out all right . . . thanks Frank, nice a’ ya to say so . . . must be time for a smoke . . . what do ya think? Too right. Nice dark tobacco this . . . wonder where ol’ Angliss gets it? . . . wonder how Arnie gets it off ‘im? Never mind, makes a bloody fine smoke . . . bloody fine . . . Star shine, star bright, I wish . . . I wish . . . Star shine, star bright, I wish a wish on you tonight . . . that how it goes? Star shine, star bright I wish . . . is that it . . . a wish on you tonight . . . I wish a wish . . . Star . . . Have ta ask Claudie. Ooh how’d it be if she was here now, eh? Bung an arm around her . . . feel her all warm up against a man . . . two sweethearts, eh . . . lookin’ out at the autumn moon . . . whisperin’ so’s not to wake the kids . . . yeah, two fifty-year-old sweethearts . . . near-a-bloody-nough anyway . . . near-a-bloody-nough. She’d better watch out tonight but, I’ll be bloody well rearin’ ta go by the time she comes back from baby-catchin’ . . . it’ll slow ‘er up a bit later on . . . kids at ‘er age . . . slow ‘er up fer sure . . . won’t be doin’ as much midwifin’ then by crikey, knock the family income around a bit . . . not that half of them pay up mind you . . . not that half of them’d ‘ave the money even if they wanted . . . wasn’t fa Claudie they’d . . . she’s a bloody good woman . . . bit grumpy an’ short sometimes, but what with everythin’ bein’ as it is who can blame ‘er – ’
‘Grandpa, who are ya talkin’ to?’
‘Alfie, you awake?’
‘I could hear voices.’
‘Not voices, mate, just voice, just ya stupid ol’ grandfather talkin’ to ‘imself an’ the moon. An’ ya know what the moon’s like, just a big silent grin like Teddy Morrow’s simple brother. Sorry, mate, I’ll shut up. I’ll think it instead.’
‘What are ya thinkin’ about?’
‘Ah, you know, buildin’ the new room, an’ bringin’ Betty’s little kid home, an’ what a bloody good woman ya grandmother is, what a good honest little bloke me grandson is. That sorta stuff.’
‘An’ I know that poem too.’
‘You should be asleep, Alf, not listenin’ ta silly ol’ buggers talkin’ to ‘emselves.’
‘Star light, star bright,
First star, I see tonight
I wish I could
I wish I might
Wish the wish
I wish tonight.’
‘Yer a boy with a brain, Alf. How’d you learn that? An’ anyhow what do ya reckon y’d wish for?’
‘I’d wish for me mum to live with us.’
‘Well, ya know she can’t do that for a while . . . not workin’ as hard as she is an’ having ta – ’
‘An’ I’d wish to have the bed near the window where ya can see the lemon tree an’ the skerrick a’ moon.’
‘Skerrick a’ moon eh? You heard me ramblin’ away to meself for hours. Well maybe ya can ‘ave that bed, Alf. The baby might be better off in your room . . . so’s Claudie don’t ‘ave to wander right through the house in the middle a’ the night. Yeah, that might be the best thing, Alf. You lookin’ at the lemon tree an’ Claudie listenin’ to ‘er baby’s lungs.’
‘When’s my mum comin’ back, Grandpa.’
‘Well you know, Alf, she went off to Melbourne to do that secretarial thing, but times are hard, Alf, she had to work as well, an’ . . . well, it took her longer than expected. But we heard from her the other day. She’s well and breakin’ her neck to get back home.’
‘She should come home sometimes, Grandpa.’
‘Well, of course, Alf, we’d love to see Gertie back, but it’s not as easy as you think. Sometimes things don’t work out like you’d hoped. Try as you might.’
‘I heard Mrs Swayne whisperin’ to old Collins at the store saying mum has boyfriends.’
‘Mrs Swayne, eh, an’ Mrs Collins? Two Christian ladies. Well they’d know of course, even if we didn’t.’
‘I saw Grandma with that letter you wrote to mum at Christmas, the one I put my drawing of the horse in. Did it come back again Grandpa?’
‘We must have got the address wrong again. You know, Alf, it’s not uncommon for things to go astray. Pack horse from here ta Melbourne an’ then God knows what happens after that. Things go missing. Happens all the time.’
‘Do ya reckon there’s enough bearers, Grandpa?’
‘Course there is, Alf. I could build two rooms with this stuff out here. That Arnie chucked on every loose stick a’ lumber ‘e could find. There’s everythin’ here: stump plates, tar paper, bag a’ plaster . . . a length’ve gutterin’ . . . a mirror . . . God knows where ‘e got that from . . . anyway let me worry about that . . . you get back to sleep before ya Grandma gets back an’ finds her jam spoon . . . I’ll just ‘ave another smoke . . . ooh, smell that tobacca will ya, beautiful . . . ya know, a little tank’d go well round on the west wall . . . no winda there an’ it’d provide a bit of shade . . . pick up a bit’ve extra water too . . . . put some mint an’ parsley an’ horseradish under the run-off an’ a lime tree . . . how’d that be . . . a lime tree.’
‘What’s a lime tree?’
‘Christ. Get ta sleep, Alf for God’s sake . . . man’s talkin’ to ‘imself too loud . . . but it’s the best way ta think . . . shh ya silly ol’ bugger . . . tone it down a bit. . . but a quiet night, bit of moon, all them stars, look at ‘em, the Milky Way, the bloke standin’ on his head with the sword in his belt . . . what’s ‘is bloody name?’
‘Orion.’
‘Jesus, Alf ya bloody know-all . . . will ya get ta sleep . . . I was whisperin’.’
‘Ya can’t whisper Grandpa, ya Parwung, you’re the magpie, he talks to himself all night . . . Grandpa? . . . Grandpa? . . . I didn’t mean to use the name Billy Wurrun gave you.’
‘How did you know about that?’
‘Billy told me.’
‘Did he tell you yours?’
‘Yes. Golkawil – Little Hawk. An’ Grandma’s?’
‘Grandma’s? What’d he call her?’
‘Bul-la-won.’
‘Bul-la-won. What’s that?’
‘Scissors.’
‘Scissors? That’s not the sort of name I’d . . . ’
‘For cuttin’ the baby’s cord . . . that’s why they call her that . . . the scissors mother. Sharp.’
‘Sharp? Soft I woulda said. That’s what I reckon.’
‘Billy wasn’t bein’ cruel, Grandpa, he said it like . . . you know, like with respect . . . bringin’ out all the babies.’
‘That Billy.’
‘He was our uncle, wasn’t he, Grandpa?’
‘He was, an’ you gotta go ta sleep because I’m sick’ve talkin’ to meself . . . an’ ta little kids who reckon they know every bloody thing.’
‘I don’t know what a noggin is.’
‘An’ ya won’t find out tonight, either. Go ta sleep before I change me mind about the lime tree.’
‘And the moon.’
‘Yeah and the moon. And the stars. How’s it go? Star shine, star bright, I could wish a wish . . . tonight . . . I wish I could I wish . . . Star shine, star light . . . if I . . . why is it that I’m not too bright.’
‘Star light, star bright
First star I see tonight
I wish I could
I wish . . . ’
‘Alright, smarty pants, off to sleep . . . Star shine, star light, if I see a star tonight, I wish if I . . . I wish . . . If I could wish, if I could . . . I’d wish I had a bloody fish. Stop bloody gigglin’ you . . . an’ another thing . . . I’d never mention them scissors . . . or you’d wish a few new wishes that’s for sure and certain. Good night.’
‘Good night – Uncle Parwung.’
‘Grandpa.’
‘Grandpa.’
‘Bloody smart alec.’
‘It’s a good name. I like the sound of it. I can hear one now.’
‘So can I, smart alec, so can I.’
‘He’s come to talk to you, Grandpa.’
‘Bulldust, he’s come to rip the heads off mice, now go to sleep or you’ll have me tar and feathered.’
‘Magpie feathers?’
‘Jesus.’
3
Holes in the heart
‘Please tell the court your name and rank and swear the oath on the Holy Bible.’
‘Your honour, Captain Reginald Hindsmith.’
‘Captain Hindsmith, I understand you were at the scene when the three offenders, Moorabool, Parnum and Mariwun met their deaths.’
‘No, your honour, I’d been dealing with Aborigines of the group for some months and had recently apprehended the wife and child of one of the deceased. One of the accused is an officer of my police district and was present when we came across the woman Betty and her child.’
‘And so how is it, Captain Hindsmith, that you can comment on the events of the day in question at the blacks’ camp on the Werribee River?’
‘I have been investigating crimes against the Wathaurong group for some time, your honour, and believe some of the defendants were involved in earlier violence against these people.’
‘You believe, Captain Hindsmith? Do you have any evidence which might have any bearing on those beliefs? Not that such evidence could be admissible in relation to the incident in question.’
‘Your honour, I have charged Officer McCallum with several counts of dereliction of duty in relation to very similar incidents.’
‘Thank you, Captain Hindsmith, but shall we bring all our acumen to bear on the incident before the court?’
‘Yes, your honour. Officer McCallum took it upon himself to lead a party of armed men in pursuit of the three deceased who were alleged to have stolen a sheep from the property of William Angliss – ’
