How Do I Love Thee? (35 page)

‘Miss,’ said Tomas, ‘I’m here to speak and translate for my father.’

She smiled, both at her student and at his father. And then she began to relate how Tomas’s work had improved during the year, and while he might still struggle in the end-of-year exams, she was confident that he would acquit himself well enough.

‘Acquit?’ asked Silvio Roberto. Tomas explained quickly.

‘Tell me, Mr Rodriguez, if you don’t mind my asking, how do you manage to work in Australia without good enough English?’

Haltingly, he told her, ‘In Bolivia, I was a big …’

Tomas took up the story, ‘In Bolivia, my father controlled a chain of supermarkets in the capital, Sucre.’

‘Sucre? I thought the capital of Bolivia was La Paz?’

Silvio Roberto smiled. ‘That is why we come here. To Australia. Sucre is capital for government. Most people, they live in La Paz. When my wife, she die in accident, I blame government minister who is driver. He drunk and kill many people. But government says “No, not him”. And
I am in trouble. The police are not like here. So I take my children and I leave Bolivia and I come here to Australia for new life.’

‘Oh, you poor man.’

‘And today I no manage supermarket. I put food on shelves and sweep floor. But I and my children, we are free.’

She knew that she was staring at him, and flushed when she realised Tomas was looking at her and frowning. Liz continued to discuss Tomas’s work, and the interview wound up. Tomas and his father shook her hand and thanked her.

She sat, mute.

As they were about to leave her desk, something—she would never know what—made her say, ‘Mr Rodriguez, what are you doing about learning English?’

He shrugged. ‘I will join school at nights soon.’

‘Would you like me to give you some lessons? I can …’ Her voice trailed off.

Tomas and his father sat down again, to the irritation of the next set of parents who were standing close by.

‘I don’t want to intrude or anything, but if it would help you get more or better work, I’d be delighted to help you learn.’

‘But you are teacher of my son.’

‘I’m a teacher. Whether I’m teaching him or his father, I can still teach you English.’

‘And your price?’ he asked. Tomas looked at the exchange between his father and his teacher in amazement.

Liz smiled. ‘I wouldn’t charge you, Mr Rodriguez. It would be my pleasure.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I must have to pay you.’

‘Tell you what. I’ll come round to your house one night a week. You make me some special South American dinner, and in return, I’ll teach you English for two hours. Is that a deal?’

Tomas quickly translated the words into his father’s ear.

Silvio Roberto looked deeply into Liz’s eyes. She felt the blood pounding in her heart. Slowly, he nodded, and said, ‘You will love my
empanada salteña
. It is two kinds of special meats, lamb and beef, and some chickens with chives and raisins and potatoes cut into small, with hot pepper sauce and all baked in bread dough. Yes?’

She reached across, and shook his hand. It was a strong hand. Warm and gentle yet with a manly vigour.

‘Yes,’ she said.

A
NNA
J
ACOBS

‘
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light
’

A
USTRALIA,
1924

The ship docked in Western Australia on a hot summer’s day in January, seven weeks after leaving England. The settlers crowded by the rails to see their new country. Maggie Spencer hugged her husband, Bill, then eight-year-old Jenny. Peter stepped back hastily. At ten, he considered himself too old to cuddle.

It was hours before they were allowed to disembark because of medical and customs checks. The group was then herded into a battered old charabanc and driven to the Immigrants’ Home in South Fremantle.

There the women and girls slept in dormitories while the men and boys slept outside on the enclosed verandah. Food was plain but plentiful, and the women were expected to help with chores like washing up.

What with sunny weather and blue skies, it seemed as if they really had come to a land of milk and honey. Perhaps Bill had been right in persuading her to come here, Maggie thought, but she didn’t tell him that, not yet.

A few days later they were notified that their group of settlers would be leaving for Pemberton the next morning by train.

‘Now it really begins,’ Bill said gleefully.

Maggie murmured agreement, still worried by how easy he seemed to think it would be to clear the forest and set up a brand-new dairy farm. The government might be giving them the land, but it’d be hard work, she was sure. And few things ever went smoothly for Bill. His misery when schemes failed was hard to live with.

She prayed this country would give him whatever it was he’d been searching for all his life. If so, she’d be happy, even though she’d miss her mother and sisters dreadfully.

The journey seemed to go on forever. It was so hot they grew thirsty quickly. The train stopped several times and they bought pies, cakes and cups of dark, stewed tea.

They didn’t arrive at Pemberton until after eleven that night. The Citizens’ Voluntary Committee greeted them with sandwiches and cups of tea made in a big square tin labelled ‘Laurel Kerosene’ and dipped out by a jug.

‘Where do we sleep?’ Bill asked the man in charge.

‘In the railway carriages, mate.’

‘What? You must be joking. We need a wash and a proper bed.’

‘Can’t wave a magic wand for you. There isn’t anywhere else
to
sleep.’

Maggie tugged Bill’s arm. ‘Let’s go and make ourselves as comfortable as we can.’

He muttered angrily as they walked back to their compartment, going on for so long that Maggie forgot her rule about never arguing in front of the children.

‘Just shut up, Bill Spencer! I want to get some sleep, even if you don’t. What can’t be cured must be endured—and cheerfully wouldn’t hurt.’

‘But they’re treating us shamefully.’

‘They’ve not
got
anywhere to house us. We’ll manage
all right in the carriage. Come on, Jenny. We’ll go to the lavatory first.’ She walked off with her daughter.

Maggie pretended to fall asleep quickly, like the children, but lay awake for a long time. Bill fidgeted beside her then gradually started to breathe more deeply, snoring lightly. She was tired of coaxing and cajoling him. It felt sometimes as if she had another child to look after instead of a husband.

Worst of all, he hadn’t wanted to make love to her since he’d first fought in France. She sighed. She had no-one to turn to for comfort and advice here, and it was such a long way from home. It’d be nice to have someone to comfort her instead of having to be the strong, sensible one all the time.

Five hours later a man with a handbell woke them. The morning was cool and misty. They were given tea and bacon sandwiches for breakfast, and other sandwiches in brown paper bags for later.

Maggie went to thank the tired woman serving the tea then stayed to chat. ‘Have you had many group settlers come through?’

‘A few.’ Her companion hesitated, then added, ‘They’ve not got all the temporary shacks built yet, let alone the farmhouses. You might find yourselves sleeping in tents for a while. Still, it’s not too cold at night this time of year, and it doesn’t rain much in summer, so you’ll be all right.’

‘Oh.’

The woman gave her a wry look. ‘You’re the one with the complaining husband.’

Maggie could feel herself blushing.

‘Your man can shout as much as he likes, but it takes time to build huts—which the government should have realised. It’s not our fault they sent you too soon. We’re doing our best to make you welcome.’

‘I can see that. And I’m sorry Bill made such a fuss. He’s—um—a bit tired.’

As she walked away, she heard the woman say, ‘She seems nice, pretty too. I don’t envy her with
that
husband though.’

They were helped up into the backs of three motor vehicles that people here called ‘trucks’.

The roads were the worst Maggie had ever seen in her life, and several times a truck would get stuck, then everyone had to get out while the men pushed it out of the hole. But the trees, ah, they lifted her spirits. So tall and beautiful, shedding a pleasant dappled light over everything.

‘Did you ever see such wonderful trees?’ she whispered to Bill.

‘Damned things! They’ll be the devil to fell. Look at that monster!’

They were passing a tree stump on which six people could
easily have stood. She wished she’d seen the tree when it was alive. It must have been magnificent.

Maggie chatted to an older woman with a worn face sitting beside her. Elsie had come here with her husband and six children—the eldest a lad of sixteen, the youngest only three years old.

‘It’s for them I came.’ Elsie looked down fondly at the little girl sleeping on her lap. ‘Mick and I want to give them a better start in life than we had.’

It took three hours to get to Northcliffe, the sight of which shocked everyone into silence. It wasn’t a town at all, just an expanse of cleared land. There was a store run by the Manjimup Trading Company—little more than a tin shed with a tent next to it—and no other buildings at all.

Disappointment seared through Maggie. She’d expected a church, shops, people to talk to, not a patch of flattened earth. Worried about her children, she forced a smile. ‘Fancy seeing a town before it’s built. We’ll remember this day, won’t we, when this is a street with buildings along it?’

Jenny and Peter looked at her doubtfully. Bill opened his mouth, caught her eye and sniffed scornfully.

Since people were desperate to go to the lavatory, they were directed to a site shielded discreetly from view by a
fence of hessian tacked to poles. Behind it was a trench with a pole across it to sit on. A young woman started sobbing, saying she couldn’t go in a place like this.

What choice did they have? Maggie forced herself to speak cheerfully to Jenny as they both did what they had to.

Back at the truck they found the man from the store with an enamel bucket of hot, black tea and thick chunks of bread spread with jam but no butter.

‘Eat up quickly,’ their driver called. ‘We need to get a move on so you’ll be settled by nightfall. The government will be providing your basic food for the next couple of weeks, but you ladies may want to buy a few extra bits and pieces as well. You’ll be nearly three miles from the shop.’

Maggie turned to Bill. ‘I’ll need some money.’

‘I’ll come with you. I don’t want you wasting it on luxuries.’

She held back her anger—just. She hated the way he wouldn’t give her any money, doling it out when she needed to buy something. And he hadn’t even asked how she was feeling.

The trucks stopped at a big clearing. Beyond it to one side was forest, to the other a waste land, where trees had been felled, leaving huge trunks and branches still lying on the ground. Everyone looked around in puzzlement.

‘Why are we stopping here?’ someone asked the driver.

‘This is the land your group’s been allocated.’

‘But most of it’s still covered in trees!’

‘There’s some cleared land and the government will pay you by the acre to clear the rest.’

Dead silence greeted this information. They’d known this in theory, but hadn’t realised how big some trees would be.

A man came towards them smiling, about forty, looking strong and capable. ‘I’m Ted Riley, foreman for your group.’

Bill scowled at him. ‘Where are we going to live? They said there would be houses.’

‘We build temporary huts ourselves, then later on teams of carpenters will build proper houses. For now, there are some tents.’

When they were all standing in a circle around him, he said, ‘We’ll need to work quickly to erect the tents before nightfall. They’ve only just delivered them. They sent the materials for the huts before the tents.’ He pointed to a pile of corrugated-iron sheets and timber. ‘Stupid, but that’s the clerks in Perth for you! The men will be paid a daily rate for their work. The ladies can help with the lighter work and do the cooking, and the older children can pitch in, too.’

‘What about schooling?’ one woman asked.

‘You need houses before schools. It won’t hurt them to miss a few months of lessons.’

A few children cheered, only to be shushed by their parents.

‘Oh, and we also need to build two sets of latrines today, one for men, one for women. We’ll put hessian fences round them for privacy. Anyone have experience of putting up tents and digging latrines?’

There was a laugh among the men, most of whom were ex-soldiers.

By nightfall the Spencers were in their own tent, with stretcher beds set up on the dry, dusty earth. For bedding they each had a heavy bush rug known as a ‘bluey’. Everything would be paid off gradually, including the horse and cart, six cows and necessary equipment like cream separators which would arrive later.

Maggie tried to get comfortable on her narrow canvas bed, looking at the dark shapes of her children to check they were all right. It was surprisingly cold at night, considering how warm the day had been. She could hear animal noises outside, frogs croaking in a nearby stream that Ted called a creek, and many other rustling sounds and calls.