And so we put on happy faces for them, Clementina, Magnus and I—a pantomime of celebration we didn’t feel. We did our best, but our best was a feeble thing, coloured with worry for Stivvy who, after only two weeks’ training, had sailed for Egypt with the Australian forces the month before.

On the verandah of Mrs Laskon’s little weatherboard cottage in Martha Street, we fanned the children’s clammy skin and drank water with precious ice, waiting for church bells to chime midnight. The street was subdued. An odd peal of laughter from the direction of the Mandurah road, but it was a very different Hogmanay from last. Silence from Mrs Laskon’s side: she was away in Perth with her daughter.

As the time drew near, Magnus poured three glasses of Penguin from a plain brown bottle, compliments of the brewery, and two tin mugs of orange cordial from a jug. And then it was crossing arms and ‘Auld Lang Syne’ and Jessie and Hal jumping up and down with no more idea of what was happening than you would expect from the bairns they were.

An’ now we must watch for the first footing, Clementina told them, and their faces grew grave.

I feared they would be disappointed. No-one was around to cross our threshold, carrying a gift for luck.

But soon they were oohing, Hal and Jessie, at the arrival of a tall stranger in a fisherman’s black hat and swathed in a long black cape that looked a lot like something I’d seen covering Mr Brescianini’s chicken coop.

Look, here’s a fine strong mannie to be first footing. It be the tall, dark an’ weel-faurt ones that bring the bestest luck! And Clementina tugged at the stranger’s hat, the better to cover his long hair.

A Good New Year ta one an’ all, he announced in a singing voice, crossing the doorway. He turned and ceremoniously presented Clementina with a gift.

Half a pound of flour.

She was momentarily nonplussed but recovered quickly.

Ooh, thank ye, kind stranger. An’ a Good New Year to yourself as well.

He kissed Clementina on the cheek, and then me, and I whispered to him, Ye smell of hops, kind stranger.

He appeared to change his mind about kissing the children, instead stooping only a little to shake their wee hands.

Goodbye! he sang. An’ many may ye see!

Jessie stared after him, frowning, as he swished away, but Hal wanted to see the good-luck present.

Flour! He was crushed.

Clementina rescued the moment. Flour, aye! An’ what shall we do with flour, eh? Shall we make griddle cakies?

Now?

Aye, bairnikie, now!

And Clementina took them inside on this stifling night to light the Metters and cook pancakes.

~

There were still voices in the distance when the children had gone to bed.