Chapters (45)
- COVER PAGE
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- DEDICATION
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- CHAPTER 19
- CHAPTER 20
- CHAPTER 21
- CHAPTER 22
- CHAPTER 23
- CHAPTER 24
- CHAPTER 25
- CHAPTER 26
- CHAPTER 27
- CHAPTER 28
- CHAPTER 29
- CHAPTER 30
- CHAPTER 31
- CHAPTER 32
- CHAPTER 33
- CHAPTER 34
- CHAPTER 35
- CHAPTER 36
- CHAPTER 37
- CHAPTER 38
- CHAPTER 39
- CHAPTER 40
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- FURTHER READING
Fred came to visit, wearing his khaki shirt, shorts and boots with white canvas gaiters. He had a slouch hat with a puggaree, and a strap which came across his chin in the front; I always wanted to tuck it beneath. He was army now, staying at the barracks and finishing his training, and Dad had something to be happy about. He thumped Fred’s back and said, ‘Jack’ll join up soon too,’ though Mum said, ‘Hush, he’s not yet old enough for that.’ Fred did look smart in his uniform, and he told me Ellis had come to Sydney and was joining the navy, and Mum watched me across the table to see how I reacted. I did imagine Ellis in a uniform—how handsome he would look with his height and broad shoulders—but then I remembered his large wet mouth.
What I wished more than anything was that we could leave that stinking, stifling place and go back to the farm. I thought I would be glad for a break from the work, but the truth was I missed it. Every morning before dawn my body woke and told me it was time to trudge across the paddock to the shed and lean my forehead against some warm flank and milk the cows. One morning, try as I might, I could not go back to sleep. I tiptoed out of the room, past my father and my brother, to sit on the verandah steps and watch the sky lighten. There were still plenty of birds but they were the common kind—magpies and sparrows, sometimes a wren. Jack stirred and came to sit beside me. He was a year younger but taller than me now, fair-haired with Dad’s dark brown eyes. ‘Strange, isn’t it, not having to wake at this hour?’
I nodded, turning my face away so he couldn’t see the bare emotion on it.
‘What are we doing here?’ I asked.
‘It’ll be right, Sar. It’s not so bad. We just need to find our own place.’ He draped his arm loosely around my shoulders. He still smelled like he did as a boy, of haystacks and rust, even in the city.
‘There’s no room to breathe.’
‘I can’t say I miss all the work, but I miss the horses. What I wouldn’t give to saddle one up and go for a ride, that way.’ He pointed towards the south.
‘I miss Blackie,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t feel right, does it?’
‘No. It don’t.’
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