Influence In Australia 2u3039

INFLUENCE IN AUSTRALIA

LOUISE FOSTER

AuthorHouse™ UK 1663 Liberty Drive Bloomington, IN 47403 USA www.authorhouse.co.uk Phone: 0800.197.4150

© 2017 Louise Foster. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/08/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5246-6640-8 (sc) ISBN: 978-1-5246-6639-2 (hc) ISBN: 978-1-5246-6638-5 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1

Children into Mischief Christmas at Culburra Cancer

Chapter 2

Cat Caught in Boiler Favourite Tunes in the Sixties Stiff Animals Festival Weekend Bush Fires Journey to Port Macquarie

Chapter 3

New School The Holiday Windbag News of a Death Fisherman Competition Lost Kitten Omo Crab Attack Egg and Tomato Fight Injury Storms Brownies Flicker Captain Cook Coin Night with Windbag Stealing Pub Fight Dot Bull Charge

Pea and Bean Fields Mind Torment Muddy Dive Mercedes Benz Tongue for Dinner Jarah Preaching Garage Roof The Fire Keith Attack Tension Mounts Up On the Move Leaving Home for the First Time

Chapter 4

Hunters Shoes Opera Washing Fainting Test Results for Sam RAAF

INTRODUCTION

I would like to thank my true friends who believed in me and encouraged me to write this book. Influence in Australia is about how influences of others around me and life experiences took the turns in life, with some disastrous decisions and outcomes but also some small good fortunes.

Sarah’s life was difficult. The loss of her mother was so great that it impacted her mind when she was a young child, she watched her mother dying. The pain stayed with her through her life. She often ed her mother’s strong words and always felt their power. She became a loner, because she was not as fortunate as other children; with no real guidance growing up, she found her own way and worked very hard to get what she wanted in life.

Her self-belief led to material wealth, which she later lost, since she put others in front of her, and they did not think of her in any way. They made sure they gained from Sarah’s hard work the people she attracted into her life shaped her future. This is a story of courage, drive, determination, and risk. It is also about the beauty of Australia and the funny turns that happen in life. The story discusses friends made and lost, and includes how this affected and impacted everyone.

This story shows that you are not alone. Life can be great, and others can shape your future through what you see and believe. If you feel alone or feel you are the only person to make a wrong decision, then this book is for you.

CHAPTER 1

Sarah Gibson came into this world on 23 November 1958, in Fairfield, Australia. Her aunt later told her that her mother was to marry a man in Orange, New South Wales, but he was in a car accident and snapped his neck. Unfortunately, he died instantly, leaving Louise lost with pain. Her future in turmoil, as the wedding was in four days time. Her only comfort was the engagement ring on her finger, which reminded her of the love they had. The wedding now had to be cancelled, and she had a lot to do while struggling with grief. After making all the arrangements, she decided to make a new life in Sydney.

Louise Welson moved from Orange to Sydney and lived in Hurstville. She rented a room from the Wilsons, two doors down from where Stephen Gibson lived with his parents. When he was nineteen years of age, Stephen had made the journey with his parents to Australia from England. The boat took three months to get to the Australian shores. The Gibsons arrived to start a new life in Australia after living in Kent, England, during the world war. Stephen had been too young to fight, however, his elder brother Ken lost his life when his plane was shot down on the day the war ended. He was only twenty-one at the time, which left his sister, Noreen, and Stephen’s brothers, Bryant and Rex. As a young girl, Noreen had been in a school bus accident. She was knocked down, leaving her slightly deaf in one ear.

Stephen asked Louise out on several occasions, but she refused. Eventually, she accepted, and they went out on a date on his birthday. They dated for a while, and then after a year, he asked her to marry him. Louise eventually accepted she was now thirty-one. They planned the wedding for 22 June 1957. In Australia, this was the longest night and shortest day of the year. Stephen often joked about that.

Stephen and Louise married in a small chapel in Springwood. The chapel was made of light grey stone. The winter sun shone through the coloured windows onto the black Roman cross. A path led from the large wooden doors into an area covered with white roses, growing over a wooden lattice.

The day of the wedding, Louise was nowhere to be found. Stephen found himself wondering when she would turn up. He smiled to himself, knowing that she was always running late. Still, she’s only ten minutes late, which is her custom. The wedding was small, with mostly family. Louise wore a light blue dress with a small hat dotted with white flowers. She looked elegant and lovely as she was given away by her father, whom she adored and loved so much. Steven Welson was tall and handsome, with curly golden brown hair and bright hazel eyes. Louise stepped out of the gleaming black Ford and walked into the church to meet her fiancé.

The reception was in Springwood not far from her parent’s home. After all the speeches, dining, and dancing, Stephen and Louise left for Port Macquarie to start their honeymoon. Louise’s firm offered them a small flat to live in. She was the top bookkeeper and was respected highly. The accommodation came at no cost, but there was a drawback, in that she could be called upon to work, and they both felt their private life would be interrupted.

Luckily, they had both saved enough to move into their new home shortly after they got back, freeing up Stephens parents to retire to the country.

Louise and Stephen had saved enough for a deposit for their own home. They had been offered the house of Stephen’s parents, who had arranged to live in Culburra (known by the aborigines as “Windy Place”), where the sand cuts through you like a knife on the strong windy days. Their new home had plenty of land and was only ten minutes up a stony track to the beach.

After two weeks of sunning, they returned and moved into their new home, which had a small wrought-iron fence around the front garden. It had large fruit trees at the back, and the large grounds were just perfect for a family. Louise was very particular and liked the best in life. She had a pure silk golden bedspread, a lovely solid wooden table for dining, and a grey lounge in the lounge room. There was a sun room, a laundry room leading into the back garden, and the traditional sixties cupboards of different colours in the kitchen.

A year later, Sarah was born, and the following year, her brother Derek. He came into the world as a big fat jolly baby. They eventually could not feed him enough, or so Stephen said. Her brother had Nana’s temper. He thumped and screamed for attention. Stephen said Sarah was a quiet baby. Her parents became very concerned, since she was late in talking and walking (although he joked that once she could speak, she never shut up). Then Derek developed asthma and became very thin. At one stage, he was so ill Stephen had to push the medicine into him, despite his yells and screams. His discomfort really upset Stephen and Louise. Derek soon recovered and got back to his temper tantrums when he did not get his own way.

Children into Mischief

The Gibsons lived fairly normal lives, with school and work, up to 1967. The children got into as much mischief as possible, playing with imaginary friends. Being so small, everything, including adults and the toilet, looked so large.

One day, Sarah fell in the toilet. Her screams could be heard down the corridor: “Mummy, Mummy, I’m stuck!”

Sarah could not move, frightened and in an awkward position, with her arms and legs and feet and hands appearing just above the bowl.

Louise and Stephen came running and could only laugh at the sight of their little girl, looking down to see feet in the air and small hands cling to the bowl. Louise pulled the child up, cleaned her, and put her in her night dress, saying, “Well, I guess you are not ready for the big toilet yet.”

Before long, Derek and Sarah had grown enough to play in the back garden and get into all the mischief they could; their favourite game was to jump up and hang onto the steel clothesline, which bobbed up and down from the uneven grass. They ran around, jumping and using the host as a swing as it swayed.

Louise would catch them every now and then and scold them, saying, “Children, the clothesline are not a swing,” as the circular host would wobble to a halt.

Sarah enjoyed climbing the trees with Derek. One day, she noticed the cat climbing onto the neighbour’s chick pen. Well, if the cat can cross so can I, she thought. She carefully climbed up the wooden fence onto the thin roof, but when we went too far, all of a sudden, there was a crack!

Sarah felt herself fall into the pen. The chickens and roosters, flapped in the air, squawking and jumping onto each other. She felt the pain from her scratched and bruised knees. She climbed to her feet and looked up into the eyes of her elderly neighbour.

She sobbed, “The cat can do it, why can’t I? I just wanted to cross.” With her head held down low, she mumbled, “Not fair.”

Just then, she heard her mother’s voice saying, “Sarah, What are you doing? Apologise instantly!”

Sarah felt this was out of order, since she was hurt by falling into the pen, not the chickens.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, “it will not happen again.”

Sarah cried, feeling herself being lifted in the air by her neighbour. His hands held her firmly and then lifted her over the fence to Louise.

“What do you think you were doing?” her mother asked, hugging her as she wrapped herself around her mother like a koala bear.

A few weekends later, Stephen announced, “Let’s take the monsters to the zoo; it will be great.”

After entering the zoo, they walked around and stopped at each cage. Sarah was nibbling Smith’s crisps and standing next to her father; she was only four years of age, and an emu put his long neck over the fence and pecked at the crisps. It pecked so fiercely that she felt its sharp beak and cried out. She was so upset about losing all of her crisps, since there were only small pieces left. The bag then fell onto the cement flooring.

Stephen laughed and pointed at the bird. Louise ed in, while Sarah felt cheated at losing her chips. She hit her little thighs and stamped her feet.

Stephen reached down and grabbed her hand, saying, “Do not worry, we will get some more,”

They walked over to the shop to get some more crisps, in the hope she would stop crying. After a while, she forgot what had happened as she watched the monkeys going from branch to branch and pointed at the elephants.

The sun was still hot, and the hours flew by. Derek and Sarah began hitting each other and tugging at each other’s ears. Feeling exhausted, Louise looking up at Stephen and said, “Shall we go? The children are getting restless, and we have had a good day here.”

They walked back to the car. Everyone got in, and Stephen turned the crank

handle on the old Hillman to get it started. She clunked into action, and before long, Sarah and Derek were sound asleep. Stephen pulled up the drive around 6.30 pm. The children hardly stirred as he put them to bed. Louise and Stephen sipped their wine and tucked into some fresh sandwiches in the lounge room as they watched TV before retiring to bed.

Most afternoons, Sarah and Derek played together in the garden until they got rough with each other. Louise would sigh and say, “They will kill each other one of these days.”

The children would swing happily from the fruit trees, teasing each other as they climbed as high as they could. “I can climb higher than you,” Sarah called. “I am quicker.”

“No, you are not!” Derek yelled back.

The favourite tree was at the left of the home. It had no leaves, which made it easy to climb. Derek and Sarah often fought over who could climb the highest. One day, Sarah would not let Derek get the better of her. There was a metal bar at the base of the tree, and she swung it at her brother, hitting him in the head. This caused a small, thin cut, which bled slightly; Derek ran off, yelling, with the blood dripping slowly.

Stephen examined the cut and said, “Louise, this is going to need stitches.”

He picked up his son and carried him to the car.

Sarah and Louise could hear the sounds of the engine getting fainter as the car disappeared in the distance to the local hospital.

The nurse on duty looked at the small boy and asked, “What happened here?”

“His sister hit him with a bar,” Stephen answered, adding, “Wait till I get my hands on her.”

“Now, now,” the nurse announced, “kids will be kids. I am afraid you will need some stitches, young man.”

After the sixth stitch, the sobs were still coming from Derek, and Stephen’s temper rose.

“Don’t be too hard on her,” the nurse said as Stephen left the surgery.

Sarah was hiding under the kitchen table when he came in.

“Sarah, where are you?” he called. “Don’t worry, it is all done and dusted.”

She curled up in the corner to try and get out of his grasp, but then he dragged her out. He bent her over his knee, pulled down her panties, and smacked her very hard, which she found quite an insult.

She felt the stings of the lashings and cried out. Her father said, “Stop crying, or you will get another one.”

After he smacked her across the backs of her small legs, which were now red, Sarah ran into her bedroom and sobbed into her pillow. With her legs and backside throbbing from the belting, she finally fell asleep. She did not fall into her normal sleep. Instead, the events of that day went through her mind, and her body ached as she finally dropped off. The following week, she could hear her mother telling all of the family about it on the phone. She felt the tears flow as all the aunts and uncles were told. The whole world knew, and the discussions never seemed to end.

Stephen’s sister Noreen often came to visit. It was Saturday a breezy on a breezy afternoon, Sarah felt excited, as they were going to their aunt’s this time.

She could hear her father in the front seat telling her mother, “Well, Mazy has found her partner for life, you know, dear, they set a date for the wedding.”

Sarah felt excited about going to the engagement party. The back garden and lounge room were full of people, all seemed so tall. The food was almost out of reach. Sarah could see all the party food: sandwiches, small sausages with sauce, savoury dips, chicken drumsticks, salad, pastries, quiche, jellies, fruits, bread sticks, and of course the engagement cake with all the trimmings.

All of a sudden, Noreen’s daughter, Mazy, made an announcement; “I have decided to call the wedding off, and I am keeping all the presents.”

Her father, Tom, was a small Scottish man with thick black wavy hair. His face

suddenly went red, as he sat at the table, sipping wine. He said, “How dare you? We have spent a fortune. You will give all the presents back.”

Mazy shook her head and said, “No, they’re mine.”

Her father’s face was fierce, and the air was full of tension; a knife would have struggled to cut the air. All the guests and Jim, Mazy’s fiancé, a thin man with thick straight hair, seemed to be glued to the spot. Jim went white as if the blood was drained from him.

Tom flew over to the table and barely missed grabbing her neck. In a loud voice, he said, “Thank you all for coming to the party. The engagement is now off. I would appreciate you all taking your gifts back with you.”

Noreen began handing the presents back. Mazy scrambled to gather what she could, with Tom snatching them and handing them over to his wife. He turned to his daughter as the last person left the front door and yelled, “Why did you have to spoil it for everyone?”

Louise stood with her handkerchief to her mouth as she giggled with her back turned; standing behind Stephen, she said, “Well, Tom, splendid spread; I think we will be off, too.”

A few months ed since Mazy’s engagement Stephen and Louise went over to Noreen’s for lunch.

Tom turned to Stephen and said, “You know, Mazy is in love again.”

The back door opened. Mazy appeared with Mark, her new boyfriend.

She said, “You know, Dad, I have decided to sell my car.”

Sarah could see her father laughing into his hands. He said, “You will not be able to drive under your dad’s truck anymore.”

“I guess not.”

Then Mark and Mazy walked out to the front of the house, where their tiny vehicle was parked up the front of the garden. The car was so small, when her father’s truck was on the drive, they were able to drive underneath it and out the other side. Stephen watched them get into the car, squashed together like two peas in a tight pod, and reverse under the truck before driving off. Mark had worked on Mazy to his church and they both turned to the Pentecostal religion and spoke in tongues.

Mazy announced she was getting married which came around quickly. On the day of the wedding, Sarah’s cousin Terry was a bridesmaid, with a couple of other children, Derek and Sarah sat in the front of the church with their parents. The Pentecostal church goers started speaking in tongues. Derek and Sarah sunk under the chair in front and did not want to be seen.

Terry looked just sweet and innocent in her white bridesmaid dress, holding a

bunch of live flowers as she walked down the aisle, with two boys around the same age. Terry smiled nervously as her small steps took her closer to the altar. Sarah felt left out. Why had she not been chosen? I guess Terry is prettier, she thought.

The service started with the priest asking the bride and groom to commit to each other. Derek and Sarah started giggling. Louise giving them a fierce look of disapproval, biting her lip and saying, “Shush! Stop it.”

The priest’s hair was a silver grey with black at the ends, as if he stubbed the ends in black shoe polish. He smiled and then bowed, saying, “Now we will finish in tongues.”

“Sarah, oh, not again,” Derek whispered.

Noreen got up and spoke in gibberish, as if she forgot how to speak, and then another person did the same, and then another. All of a sudden, Louise was doubled over in laughter, trying to hold onto the chair in front of her. Stephen steadied her as they walked out of the church with the biggest grin and one hand over his face.

Sarah and Derek came out from hiding and ran up to their parents, chasing each other around the adults. The photos took forever.

Sarah felt as though they would never end. “When can we go, Mummy? When?”

“Soon, sweetie; be patient. Nearly finished.”

Then everyone got into their cars and drove to the reception hall, which was a large Scouts hall, done up with plenty of ribbons. As they entered, Louise noticed her sister with their two children, a little older than Derek and Sarah.

As the two sisters spoke about the service, Sarah’s cousin Pam found the tomato sauce bottle and tipped the contents over everyone’s dinner. The other children could see how much fun Pam and her brother were having so they ed in, and the guest turned around to see their plates full of red sauce. Then came the desert, but the tomato sauce had not totally disappeared; the ice cream and fruit had added flavouring. The children ran off to play, leaving the adults stunned, with the uneatable food in front of them.

The tables were cleared, and the dancing started, and before long, the night wore on. The parents chased the little ones around the hall to take them home, leaving childless couples to enjoy the rest of the evening. After an hour, Louise took off her high heel shoes. By now, the children had fallen asleep on the lounge. Stephen got the children tucked in bed while she got a bottle of wine and two glasses to finish the night.

Louise left the boxes and brown sticky tape on the front porch after getting a delivery. When she went to the back of the house, Sarah said, “Derek, let’s play house.”

She and Derek grabbed the boxes and tape and started making a playhouse, sticking tape all over themselves and the boxes. All of a sudden, both children started vomiting all over the front steps and porch.

Louise heard the retching sounds and came running out to see both children covered with tape, from top to bottom. “What the hell do you think you are doing? Well, children, this is going to hurt.”

She pulled the tape off them both and put them in the bathtub, washing them down and then dressing each child for bed. She sat them both with towels over them on the spotted lounge. Blacky the cat sat with his front paws crossed over his back paws (Sarah often put him in this position). The smell was now getting to her, and she got the disinfectant bottle, mop, and bucket to clean up the mess. Louise started heaving herself with the smell and getting the lumps off the floor. She thought to herself, Why did I want children? It is hard work.

A few months ed, one morning, Derek woke up and decided not to go to school. As Louise ate her cereal, she watched over both Derek and Sarah, as always, biting her lip.

“Mummy, I am sick,” Derek said. “I do not want to go to school.”

“You are going,” she replied.

Derek stood up and stamped his feet. Louise turned to him with the wooden spoon in her hand. Derek leaped to his feet, with Louise behind, waving the wooden spoon in the air. She followed behind Derek down two blocks, until they reached the small playground in front of the path that led to Baulkham Hills Primary School.

Louise watched them both go into the gates and into the hallway that led to the classrooms. She turned and started walking back as the other mothers cheered,

“Good on you.”

Sarah and Derek needed to come up with another way to skip school. One day, they were both giggling in the bathroom, looking at the baby powder. They both rubbed the powder on each other’s faces and went into the kitchen.

“I do not feel too good,” Sarah said.

“Neither do I,” announced Derek.

Louise looked at their pale faces and said, “Oh no, you must both be coming down with something.”

She phoned the school, and the two children sneaked in front of the television, watching cartoons while their mother busied herself with house cleaning and watching over them. The afternoon came quickly. Sarah and Derek played with Derek’s cars, racing them around on the floor.

“Well, that was easy,” Derek announced.

Late that night, Sarah had a nightmare which stuck with her for many years. There was a white shape over one eye, which she was looking through, and then the walls closed in and would not open. Water flowed through the walls and started to cover her. She felt herself become breathless.

Sarah screamed for her father, who could not open the walls to save her. She looked through her eyelids, hoping to see him. Finally, as the water rose over her head, Sarah screamed out louder and woke up in her father’s arms, with her clothes dripping from turning and tossing.

“It is okay, just a nightmare,” Stephen said. “You are safe now.”

After he put clean pyjamas on her, Sarah fell back to sleep. In the morning, Sarah woke to the loud chirping of birds singing outside the window in the trees.

Christmas at Culburra

Christmas was upon them. Stephen’s parents had invited everyone to Culburra, including Louise’s sisters, their husbands, and their children. Stephen’s brothers and sister were also invited.

Sarah heard her father say, “Love, we are all going, including your sisters and partners. It will be great! We can all have so much fun.”

Sarah felt so excited, for the house had large grounds and was close to the sea, and all her cousins would be there. They arrived midmorning. The house was buzzing with laughter, and all the children were gathered together around the back of the lounge room.

Stephen’s dad yelled out, “Get unpacked and get ready, for lunch will be served soon. Don’t be too long.”

Sago pudding was on the boil, the roast chicken and golden vegetables smelt so good, the gravy was being prepared, and the long walnut table with glass top and decorative lace cloth hanging over was set, with all the heavy padded brown leather chairs surrounding the table. A small table was set for the younger children. Sarah walked through the lounge room, turned right through the bedroom with the two single beds made up, and looked into the long veranda kitchen that faced sea. The boats going by slowly looked just like a painting. She felt happy with the view and just stood there for a while.

“Come on, Sarah, get to the table,” Stephen said. “We are all about to eat.”

“Yes, Pop,” she replied.

The comments about how great the meal was flew around the table. Sarah heard her grandfather giggle and say, “Chopped the head off this morning, fresh as you can get them. You should have seen it running around without a head.”

Sarah felt a lump in her throat, as she looked down at her plate with the fresh meat which she hardly touched. Then desert Sarah took a large mouthful of sago pudding, screwing up her face, like tadpoles swimming in a pool, the white and soggy tasteless substance looked like clear bubbles.

Not even the brown sugar made much difference, she looked up at her cousins and could see everyone’s face screwed up. “Yuk,” she said.

A voice came from the corner; her youngest uncle said, “Now, children, do not be disrespectful.” He added in a lower tone, “Even though Mum cannot cook.”

Sarah felt brave and said, “Really, we are so full; can we leave the table now?”

Nana gave her son a glare of disapproval and said, “Yes, of course you can. Not too fast off the top step, ten deep breaths before going off to play.”

“Okay.”

They all ran around to the back, where four children could fit on each side of the swivel chair; with legs hanging over, they twirled left and right and then there was a spat as one got off and one got in another twirl around and around. Giggles came in between a swipe of disapproval when one got an extra turn.

A yell came from the lounge, with three sets of eyes appearing through the window: “That is enough!”

“Oh, it is your fault.”

Then like a herd of elephants, they all ran outside and chased each other, hiding between whatever they could find.

They played until one of the parents called out, “Bath time!”

Sarah hated this part; due to a shortage of water, three lots of children had to share one bath.

Nanna yelled out, “Then bed! Big day tomorrow; it is nine o’clock; all good children to bed.”

Silence fell, and then some other kids sneaked around the back to where the big double bed was, hoping to look at Hawaii Five-O on the television.

Another parent yelled, “Bed!”

When all was safe, One of the children manged to peep over the window seal, all the children sneaked to the back again peering over the window sill.

“I said bed!”

Sarah heard her cousin say quietly, “What, do they have eyes in the back of their head? Damn it.”

When she got into bed, she made animals out of the paint peeling off the wall and the green paint hung down in places. She was soon asleep, and the morning came around quickly. The sun shone through the shutters. There were about a dozen frosted panes of glass with swirly patterns and the beams of light shown across the room as if an angel were entering. The smell of crisp bacon and egg started drifting through the room, and a whistling kettle on the Aga oven, the oven was solid cast iron in the colour of a deep green which had white dots. Sarah entered the kitchen. On the table were decorative glass pots full of different jams, fresh tea with tea leaves (made the correct way), fresh thick cow’s milk (you had to dig an inch of cream out of the top of the bottle before any milk would be free), butter churned from the local dairies with thick blocks of rich cheese. The eggs were from the chicks down the back pen, and the toast was so thick with butter that melted and flowed like a river from the heat. Everyone ate quietly, looking out at the calmness of the sea and the boats drifting by effortlessly, as if time stood still, just the odd crunch and slurp of tea.

“That was great, Mum and Dad,” Sarah said. “Cannot wait to go down to the river.”

Towels were packed, as were swimmers and thongs (for the sun was already beaming down fiercely, and it was only ten o’clock). The men packed their large rods, tackle and bait, and small canvas chairs. There were beach hats for everyone as they walked leisurely down the clay-stoned road to the small grass pathway that led to the white sand dunes. The large pond would often be filled by the sea it was deep blue with dunes that ran down to the beach. The dunes seemed to reach for the sky, and every now and then, the wind would blow, with the coarse sand cutting into the skin like sharp needles. Grandpa’s dog, Scamp, would run ahead, barking at the seagulls and running around in circles, then running back to make sure no one had gone without her. She was a black-andwhite cattle dog and could move quickly, panting with glee.

Sarah looked across to see the men cast out their fishing lines in a large swirl, then the whistle of the chrome reels and thick fishing line out to sea, which was starting to get rough. The waves were dancing in the sunlight, then one large flathead was caught, and another bream, a leather head, some mullet.

Before long, the buckets were overflowing. They had caught a dozen fish, and the men were roaring with laughter

They yelled across to the women, “Dinner tonight, guys! We are raging.”

The wind had got up, and the sand was starting to swirl around, cutting their bodies like a knife. Everyone held onto their hats as they ran along to the pond, where they were sheltered from the wind by the long reeds, dark brown pods (These are long ferns with brown pods the mothers and children went swimming and soaking up the sunlight, and then on the journey back, the rubbing thongs made Sarah feel uncomfortable, with the sand rubbing where it did not brush off. They went through the small wooden fence into the long garden, where the fruit trees hung their fresh fruit. Sarah’s favourite were the deep black figs with rich red centres, full of juice and rich in flavour. A board was put up to display all the fish the men got, laid out to check who caught the largest fish.

The cool afternoon breeze made their bodies feel sticky, while the men enjoyed their smokes, Stephen decided to go and see how many eggs he could find in the long grass. There were several mounds of long grass stuck together, like little islands of their own. In the corner was a greyish wooden pen with two large windows, consisting of thick wire mesh, for the hens to look out. The doors creaked when opened, and there were six or seven eggs in mounds of grass. Stephen finished his cigarette, and Sarah took the dozen or so eggs in the yellow plastic bucket. She saw her father throw the butt on the ground, and then suddenly sparks flew up from the grass.

Sarah turned around in alarm. The fire was ablaze, and the flames were reaching higher and higher. They started to spread through the pen and the hens were squawking and flying. All the men grabbed sacks soaked with water and used them to put out the fire. In an hour, the flames were out. They only just saved the day.

Sarah heard Nana yelling at the top of her voice, “What the hell were you doing, Stephen? Don’t you think where you throw your cigarette butts?”

Sarah looked up to see her father looking sheepish, white faced, with his head down. Later, the prize bird was chosen for dinner, and the axe was out. The head was chopped off, leaving the bird running around with no head for the next few minutes, which seemed to last for eternity.

The days flew by. Before long, the week had ed. The nights of cards and port came to an end, as did the long days in the sun, walking from one end of the beach to the other, with Scamp chasing after the birds. All the cars were packed, and everyone said their goodbyes. Sarah wondered how long it would be before she saw her cousins again; this was so much fun. She got into the back of the car. The coastal journey back along the white sands and the smell of the ocean soon

faded as Sydney was approaching, with several houses and the odd tree and the burning tarmac gleaming in the sunlight.

There was still a day left in the weekend. Stephen looked at Louise and said, “I have an idea.”

“What?”

“You’ll see.”

Stephen decided to build a desk and a lovely little playhouse at the side of the house. It had a wooden roof, a window with curtains, and little tables and chairs. Its door was just big enough for little people to play Mummy and Daddy. Sarah beamed with joy and she adored playing with her little boyfriend Scott up the road. Sarah would walk her doll up the street and play with his cars, for this was her first love. She would play with the cars and trucks for hours, until she was ordered back home.

The night came quickly. When Derek and Sarah awoke the next morning, they fought with each other, thrashing pillows until the feathers filled the room and their mother snarled in disgust, “Children, what do you think you are doing?”

The pillow and feathers went everywhere; Louise stood in a maze of feathers, and the children ran to each side to miss her. They fled towards the garden, leaving their mother yelling at the top of her voice, “You little brats don’t let me get hold of you.”

“Let’s get our bikes!” yelled Derek. They scratched the wooden floors riding their three-wheeler bikes down the newly wallpapered hallway.

Louise suddenly grabbed both children with a quick smack and placed them in the bedroom, where they giggled together.

Sarah dressed Blacky, their old cat, in doll’s clothing and he sat down on the bed next to them. After an hour or so, Louise decided to let all three out to watch television. Blacky struggled with his dress. He jumped up and put his paws on his lap, sitting like Sarah and Derek. Blacky enjoyed the attention, with the three of them sitting the same way, watching cartoons. Some afternoons, he was placed in the doll’s pram and walked around the block.

Sarah often walked up to Scott’s place with her new walking doll. They would play for hours with his cars, and then Sarah would walk back home. She played with her dolls so much. When she got her baby doll with golden hair and rosy cheeks, she placed both doll and Blacky in the pram, both dressed in doll clothes, with bonnets on their heads, and Blackie’s ears sticking out on either side. Sarah did her usual walk around the block, with Louise watching her a few spaces behind, wondering why this poor cat did not get fed up. He just lay in the pram as if it were a baby and never jumped out. Sarah often got a comment on how lovely her children were, as the cat purred.

Louise kept strong control of the finances and they purchased a new Hillman Gazelle, a pale blue car with white roof, red interior, and wooden dashboard. Stephen pulled up with the car, glowing. Louise wanted to make sure they would be fine and knew it would only be a few years now before they owned their home, even on Stephen’s wage as a cutter and grinder, which paid better than most. He was paid well for being the best in his trade. Sarah saw her father pull up and dreamed of driving this car, better than cranking the old Hillman they had.

Cancer

In early 1967, Louise found a lump. After visiting Dr Plummer, she was convinced it was a hernia. They operated, however, and it was cancer of the ovaries. Nothing could be done to save her life. Sarah would come home from school to find her mother in and out of hospital; there were a lot of needles to control the pain. Sarah would play with her dolls, injecting needles into them, pricking them all over, and saw her mother losing weight. She would cry and wonder what would happen, and then later that year, Sarah developed tonsillitis and was in hospital herself. They took Sarah to the operating table, where they put on this black rubber mask that had a strange smell; there were several round lights above her head, with the distinct smell of anaesthetic. They told her to count back from ten. Before she got to seven, she fell asleep and did not anything, just deepness. Sarah awoke with a sore throat in a ward with two older girls who were roughly four years older. They felt sorry for the little girl opposite to them; before long, Sarah was the proud owner of two large chocolate bars.

Stephen came to visit and gave Sarah a gold bracelet. Delighted, she ired the bracelet, putting it on straight away, feeling proud of her new jewellery and the attention she was achieving. Every day, Sarah dreaded the silver kidney tray, which held a tray with soft cotton bedding, holding a needle they used to inject her. A sharp pain accompanied the entry, and the nurse commented on how brave she was. It was not long before Sarah was sent home to recover. She noticed her mother getting thinner and weaker. Easter came, and Sarah was given a very large Easter egg, the largest she had ever seen.

She sneaked into her mother’s room, holding the egg behind her back, and said, “Mummy, guess what I have for you? You are the best mother in the world, and I will never let you go.”

Sarah loved her so much. She handed her the egg, and then, as they sat on the bed, Louise pulled her child close to her and said, “Sarah, I want you to understand something: Whatever happens, you must promise me to always be strong.”

She kissed her mother gently and said, “I will, Mummy, I promise.”

Sarah noticed a poem beside her bed and started to memorise it.

Friendship Friendship is a chain of gold Shaped in God’s all perfect mould. Each link A laugh, a smile, a tear, A grip of the hand A word of cheer. As steadfast as the ages roll Binding closer soul to soul. No matter how far or heavier the load Sweet is the journey on friendship’s road.

The poem was in a gold frame. There was a picture of a man and woman walking together. Sarah adored it and ed; this poem had been given to

Louise by her eldest sister, Sam.

Days ed with Louise watching her children play with imaginary friends with a blanket over her lap, not being able to move. She had lost half her body weight.

One day, Stephen entered the back garden and said, “Children, I need your attention: We are going on a long holiday, so say goodbye for now to your mother.”

CHAPTER 2

Stephen’s parents came out and took the children. He said goodbye to the children.

“What about Mummy?” Sarah yelled.

Stephen did not answer, he just turned away. Somehow, Sarah felt sick, as if she would never see her mother again, although she was so excited about going on a long train ride to Culburra, New South Wales, where they had spent many Christmases with cousins and aunts and uncles. She ed the fun they all had. Their grandparents’ house had an aluminium roof and three large water tanks to catch the rain water, which only came a couple months of the year. The ground was large. The house had two large fig trees and three large fruit trees. The chicken pen held plenty of roosters and hens. There were fifteen wooden steps that led down to the back. The kitchen had two large windows which looked out to the ocean. There was a fine wooden garden house at the side.

The veranda went all around the front and side of the house, and then the bathroom was set off from the hallway to the left of the entrance. Straight ahead, you entered into the lounge room at the back, where two windows were behind the two lounge seats with polished wooden arms. A large brass light stood five feet tall, with a musty-colour shade and tassels. Then a door on the right led into the grandparents’ bedroom, with two single beds with solid teak cupboards and side boards. On top of the dresser was a tortoise shell hair set, a mirror and bone comb.

The kitchen had one very large window, which looked out to the ocean with the

boats and steamers would casually past. To the end of the kitchen sat the enamel ovens and a small table and four chairs opposite, which looked over the ocean with the steamers casually ing by. There was a sewing room off to the back.

It was a month since Stephen drove the children to Sydney to meet his parents, who took them on the long train journey to their home. He returned home. His sister-in-law, Sam, was already with his wife. She had taken comionate leave from the hospital where she worked delivering babies and now put her nursing duties to good use, assisting Stephen with Louise, who was now so ill. Stephen’s youngest brother would call in after work to see how they were doing. For they all knew, she did not have long to live, since by now she was barely three stone and drifted in and out of consciousness.

Stephen went to the toilet; he was very nervous and always found himself running in and out of the toilet. Sam called to him, as Louise was dying. Stephen caught her in his arms as she said her goodbyes. Her head fell softly against his chest. He felt a lump in his throat, knowing she was gone but not knowing what he was going to do. His tears dropped on her cheek as he laid her gently on the golden pillow. She looked so peaceful and lovely as she lay on the bed. Sam and Stephen both held each other for a while before phoning the family to let them know Louise had finally gone.

Their grandfather insisted on their school shoes being highly polished; if you could not see your face in them, then they were not clean enough. They did ten breathing exercises on the front porch before school. The bus would come and take them to a small school about thirty minutes away. There were only two classrooms: first through third grade in one room, and fourth through sixth in the next room. It was very different from the school in Hurstville. They soon made friends with the Tussells and jumped off garage roofs and took Scamp for many walks. Grandfather’s spotted blue cattle dog was an excellent snake catcher. Tiger, a long-haired grey cat, was Nana’s spoilt, plump, and cuddly cat.

Sarah struggled with her studies, and the teachers said she did not have the capability. Then, adding insult to injury, they repeated her. Sarah felt she was such a dunce. She cried herself to sleep, feeling the hurt and shame when Derek had to repeat because of her. Sarah tried hard; she could not keep up. She worked on her homework for hours every night, feeling she had done well, and then in the morning, she handed her work in to the teachers, who would look at her disapprovingly.

“Why don’t you get it right, child?” they asked. “You are not trying; you will never make it.”

Sarah felt, what is the point? I will only get low marks and this was what happened time and time again. She worked hard on her cross-stitching, feeling so proud of her work. She enjoyed doing the rosebud stitch; she took care using red cotton for the bud and green cotton for the leaves, which went all around the fabric. This took hours to do, and she handed the finished product in, feeling she did an excellent job, until Mrs Lemon marked the work 3 out 10 which was not up to standard. Sarah felt her eyes fill up, and the tears fell on the cotton. She felt as if a knife had gone through her; she felt pain and disappointment and emptiness and worthlessness as she looked up and saw the other children jumping with glee at the outstanding marks they had been given. Sarah threw the work in the bin with tears falling down her cheeks heavily now. She wondered why she could not get good marks and she felt so helpless. She just did not have the skills of normal children.

Sarah felt so alone and was constantly teased by the boys. One day, they chased her up the rope that hung off the tree. They got the rope and swung it until she could hardly hold on, then, just as she was losing her grip; the head master ordered them all in for the cane.

The boys yelled, “We will get you, Gibson!”

One morning, Sarah felt her face go red. She was swinging on the monkey bars upside down, when she noticed a large hole in her cotton pants. They came up to her chest and if they were any larger, she was sure they could have been worn as a neck brace. The boys noticed her hanging upside down and she was teased constantly: “Gibson has holes in her pants; she is so uncool.”

Cat Caught in Boiler

A few weeks later, the tortoiseshell cat got its head caught in the school’s burner. All the teachers tried to free the cat, with soap and water. Sarah thought it looked like the dog off The Sound of Music. Suddenly, with a pop, the cat slid down the metal tunnel and was free. It ran off into the high grass at the edges of the school grounds. Sarah started drifting back to the events the previous year, ing a discomposing cat they saw on the way back from school in Hurstville; it had maggots crawling through. How ugly death looked.

A week later, there was a loud bang out on the road; a woman had driven her car into the post, and her head seemed to be peeled like an orange. Sarah could see the blood trickling around her head. The ambulance arrived, and they wrapped the whole of her head, which made her look like a mummy.

At that moment, Louise pulled Derek and Sarah away to walk them to school.

Sarah looked up and asked her mother, “Is she dead?”

“I do not think so, dear, just badly injured.”

“Come on, Sarah,” Derek yelled, breaking her thoughts of the past. “We are going to be late for the bus.”

As she looked up, she saw the bus drive down the road.

Derek stamped his feet. “See, Sarah, how are we going to get home now?”

An hour later, Stephen pulled up in his white Vauxhall. Their father asked, “How did you both miss the bus?”

Sarah felt relieved as she sat in silence in the front seat.

A couple of months ed, their father came every weekend. It seemed so long; the days were like an eternity. Sarah could not wait to see her father for he always came with something for the children. There were those lovely orange and lemon sugar sweets and a spiral toolkit, which Sarah drew with for hours in all different coloured pens. The moments with her father were so precious. She felt so proud, skipping alongside her father, gazing up at him, while Derek dragged his feet behind.

“I love you, Daddy,” she said.

Stephen went back earlier that Sunday.

One afternoon in mid-August 1967, Sarah and Derek were walking along the windy Culburra shores, where the wind would sometimes cut through you. They ran ahead of their granddad. He was a small man with a large tummy and whitish hair.

“Sarah and Derek, I have something to tell you,” he said. “Your mother has gone

to heaven, to be with the angels. We will never see her again.”

Sarah could not accept that she would not see her mother again, for she was only eight years old and could only imagine her face and voice and wanted more than ever to see her again. Sarah screamed and cried all the way home and told the neighbours, “My mummy has gone.”

The neighbours felt sorry for both Sarah and Derek. Even though they thought the kids were brats, they showed some sympathy. After all, no children should be without their mother. Months went by, the days seemed so long, the weeks drawn out, and every time it seemed longer than before, from when their father would come home. Sarah would talk to her mother while drying up for her grandparents.

One day, Rose and Eric caught Sarah in a trance, talking away. They reminded her, “Sarah, your mother is gone; stop it. Your mother is not on earth, you have to accept this.”

Eventually, Sarah accepted she would not see her, but she would always be in her memories. Those final precious times were gone.

Then their father came home. One weekend, Sarah was walking along the beach near the small lake in the sand dunes and saw an injured black swan, with all its glory. She made a bed for the bird on the bank with dry grass and weeds, making a large nest where it would be sheltered from the elements. She visited it daily, feeding it with small fish, until the bird was well enough to fly.

Only four years before, all the families where at the same spot for Christmas

holiday. Sarah walked with her father on the sandy shore. Louise screamed at Stephen, who looked down to see Sarah glaring up at him through the water from the sandy bottom. She could see her father through the clear water. Stephen pulled her up immediately, laughing and holding her on his side.

“Oh, beady buttons,” he asked, “What were you doing?”

They often went fishing, which was one of her father’s greatest pastimes. They would catch those flatheads or breams and tell jokes. The men would come home bragging about their catches with those large rods. They also used spotlights at night, but the children were forbidden to take part. How much Sarah wanted to be grown up and in with the adults.

Derek and Sarah went to Sunday school. Sarah looked forward to this, as they would make pictures with small shells and stones, showing the path to heaven while being told stories about Christ. She felt so happy to be part of the church dances. They did the ribbon-around-the-pole dance and carnival races, and then on the weekend, they did barn dances and hay sack races, playing guitar and dancing. Sarah learned all the dances, which were done with laughter and joy.

The following weekend, the carnivals had started for all the schoolchildren to attend, with a race in sacks, spoon racing, and large jumps. Sarah cheated and held onto the spoon lightly. She won the largest box of chocolates, and of course, she would not let Derek forget.

She teased him, “Look, I am a winner. Yum, all mine.”

Derek groaned, “I never win anything, it is not fair.”

The afternoon sun was warm on their skins. Sarah felt warm and excited as she skipped along with her bag of winnings.

Their grandfather rounded them up and they got into the car around five o’clock. By the time they got home, Nana had already got their dinner ready. She served those creamy mashed potatoes, peas, gravy, and thin beef, followed by apple pie and custard. Sarah helped her grandfather clean all the dishes, and then she went into the lounge room. She looked at the piano; its walnut wood was highly polished, and as she gazed at the bright brass pedals, she wished she could play.

Her grandmother broke her thoughts: “Your father has lovely long fingers, ideal for piano playing, you know.”

Sarah replied, “I guess so.”

It was just in time for Hawaii Five-O, followed by Matlock.

“It’s 8.30, time for bed, children,” their grandfather announced.

Derek and Sarah sneaked around the back of the veranda, where the big double bed sat and look through the curtains, to have their grandparents yelling constantly, “Go and get to bed.”

“Damn, we cannot watch anything; how do they know when their heads are facing the other way? These adults,” Derek whispered.

“I said bed!”

They would sneak around to their single beds and peer over the window frames through the window to watch the show, but they were always yelled at: “Go to bed. Go to sleep.”

Sarah would make animals out of the green paint peeling off the walls and go to sleep, thinking of her mother.

Their cousins and Stephen’s youngest brother, Tom, often came over with his wife, Beth. Sarah’s grandmother made it clear she did not like Beth and always questioned if their son, Shane, was really Tom’s. Terry was half a year younger than Sarah, then came David, Shane, Eric (who was always teased for wearing glasses), and Susan, who was much younger. The swinging chair used to always cause arguments, with three sitting on each side of the chair with their legs through the arm part swinging to their heart’s content. Their grandmother was always angry to see them and glad when they were not together. Terry and Sarah became very close friends and argued over one particular boy, Wayne, who had no interest at all in the girls. He was much older than the girls, who giggled whenever they talked about him.

“Terry, where do children come from?” Sarah asked one day.

“Your tummy, I think,” Terry said.

Sarah just shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don’t know.”

The two girls came across a fully furnished, unoccupied house not far from the beach; the door opened easily, and they would spend their weekends there, playing house. They used this as their own playhouse, and Tom and Beth rented a farmhouse not far from the playhouse. The children played at the water hole where the sewage would end up. One hot afternoon, they played dare to jump on the old petrol tank floating in the pool, and all of them fell in. Aunty Beth screamed as she smelt the stink of sewage as four children, brown and soaking wet, came into the house. Like a mother hen, she guided them all into the large bath, spraying each child down before washing them, heaving over the smell. As soon as she had cleaned them, the other four appeared at the other end on the wooden veranda, dripping with brown water. The unpleasant odour just seemed to keep on coming. After all eight children were cleaned, the men came in.

“Stephen and Tom,” Beth said, “the brats have fallen into the sewage.”

She could still smell the stink on her hands as she threw all the towels and clothes into the boiler; she closed the door after putting more wood in the boiler to get water for her own bath. The tub had come up clean after digging the substance down the sink and swirling out with disinfectant; a metal prod assisted with the lumpy substance. The bath water was just starting to trickle through; within half an hour, she had a small bath to sit in and relax, with the thought, the men can look after them now.

Favourite Tunes in the Sixties

Stephen often put on the radio in the lounge room to listen to latest pop music.

One day, Sarah’s favourite song came on, and she started singing along to the tune, ed by Terry: “this Boots Were Made by Nancy Sinatra. Sarah ing skipping alongside her father, singing, “These boots are made for walking and that’s just what I am going to do.”

This song was followed by “What’s New, Pussy Cat?” by Tom Jones.

Then Uncle Tom came in and gave Sarah a poster of a cat and mouse, with the heading, “What’s up, pussy cat?”

Sarah jumped with glee and said, “This is great.”

Another hit song came on the radio: “Congratulations.” This song played constantly which reminded Sarah of Mary and Mark, their new friends they met on the beach. They were a young couple who were walking past Stephen as he was fishing and the lady had her arm in a sling with a cast on.

Stephen threw the line out, and the hook landed in Mary’s nose. They got into Stephen’s car, and he drove them to the hospital, where the hook was removed. Over the next several months, they became good friends; they were only in their early twenties. Mary had a broken arm and was always ill; something was

always wrong. They used to visit them on the odd occasion at their small house, which was nicely furnished and had a large front lawn.

Weeks flew by and Sarah had not seen Mary and Mark, and one day, after her father walked into the door, she said, “Daddy, can we go and see our friends, you know, Mary and Mark?”

“Why not? Let’s call in.”

That Saturday, Stephen got up early, and with Sarah and Derek following fast on his heels, he walked down the green cement steps to the car parked on the grass verge. They all hopped in, and before long, they were driving down the narrow dirt roads and there were tall trees on either side. When they arrived, there was only ashes and wood where the home used to be.

A neighbour came out to greet them. As Stephen got out of the car, Sarah felt her eyes fill with tears, and she stared into space for eternity. Derek looked on blankly.

Their father looked pale. “What happened?” he asked.

“They were so unhappy,” the neighbour said. “They tied themselves together on a chair and set the place alight.”

Sarah watched her father choke on his words. He spluttered out, “Such a tragedy, with such young lives.”

Sarah found this so hard to accept; she could not understand why another two friends were never to be seen again. She felt a lump in her throat as her tears fell upon her dress.

“Why, Daddy, why do we lose the people we love?”

“I know, pet, life is not fair.”

Derek just kicked the stones in silence and they got into the car and drove back home. As they entered, Stephen’s father asked, “What is wrong? You all look as if you have seen a ghost.”

The silence seemed like an eternity. Sarah ran into her bedroom, sobbing.

“Dad,” Stephen began, “you the couple I told you about when we went fishing?”

His father nodded, saying nothing.

Stephen continued, “They committed suicide; they were so unhappy, they dashed themselves with kerosene and set themselves alight.”

Rose entered and said, “No! I heard something on the radio but never, never

thought for a minute it was someone you knew.”

Sarah felt empty. That night, she and her brother cuddled up to their father and watched television. Sarah did not know what was on; the sounds from the television seemed foreign as she ed the young couple’s voices, skipping happily on the beach, with the wind in their hair and the squawks from the seagulls above.

The next afternoon, Sarah carried out her duties, feeding the hens and chicks. Her thoughts turned towards her lost friends, ing their faces and how they sung Sarah’s favourite songs. She felt the grain between her fingers as she dropped the feed onto the small mounds of earth. She often played with the grain before spreading it out to the chicks.

One day, as they rode to the co-op to buy cheese, Derek and Sarah were hitting each other and arguing until their grandparents told them, “Quiet! children should be seen and not heard.”

Bartering was a way of life in the neighbourhood. Granddad would trade his prized eggs and chicks for vegetables. They also grew bright purple figs, which were soft and juicy. It was a most unusual pleasant-tasting fruit with a sticky texture. Sarah and Derek would just pick them off and eat them straight from the tree.

Most weekends, Sarah and Derek enjoyed their time with Beth and Tom and their five cousins. Lunch consisted of cheese sandwiches with thick, soft, and crusty bread.

As the sandwiches were handed out, the children were told, “ to eat your crust.”

Their grandmother then turned to the table with her boys and Beth; the seven children decided it would be fun to just eat the inner part of the bread. They did not want to get caught throwing the crusts away. One of the cousins was on adult watch, they would say, “Now!”

They ran down to the fence and threw the crusts into the chick pen.

Sarah yelled, “They’re coming.”

Grandma yelled from the top steps, “Eat your crust, it’s the best part!”

“Yes Nana,” the seven voices yelled back.

The following Christmas was at Culburra, with Nana cooking and Grandfather cutting off one of the heads of the hens. He would find the fattest one, and after he chopped its head off, the body would run around for the next five to seven minutes which became a regular occurrence. Then you would know what was for dinner: chicken dinner and baked vegetables, and of course sago pudding or bread and butter pudding, that bubbly gluey substance with no taste.

Uncle Bryant, Nana’s favourite, often came over with Debbie, his wife, and their only daughter.

Bryant would kiss his mother’s forehead and say, “You’re great, Mum, although your cooking is not the best.”

“Well, you can starve then,” Nana snapped.

Bryant had got used to Debbie’s cooking. Her dinners were a lot more to his liking.

His mother shrugged her shoulders and huffed as they all sat down. When the weekend was over and Bryant and Debbie left, Sarah heard Nana say, “I always feel unwelcome in their house, it’s so tidy and clean, like a show home, not to be lived in.”

Stephen grunted and held his head in his hands.

His mother continued, “She puts everything in order before you leave.”

Unlike his brothers, Bryant studied and put himself through higher education. Debbie did not have to work; he earned a high wage as a programmer. His manager had noticed this young graduate as a top performer; before long, he doubled his wage and put Bryant in charge. Eric and Rose were so proud of him. Stephen always mentioned that Rex and Bryant were the brains in the family.

Bryant and his wife travelled constantly, and Sarah’s little cousin, Tania, had seen most of the world before she was fifteen. Sarah longed to be able to travel and often thought of how lucky her cousin was, she envied their home and

everything. Tania was intelligent and could sing. Her thick red hair was down to the top of her backside. She was pretty as well. Sarah felt she had none of these qualities: She was the last in the class and was always teased. She longed to achieve what Tania had so easily.

Stiff Animals

The following weekend, Sarah and Derek sat in the back of the Vauxhall as their grandparents did their usual journey from Nowra town centre back to Culburra. They ed where a lot of trees where on both sides of the road. As Sarah’s grandfather drove, they noticed a possum on the side of the road; the stiff body was frozen in a running motion. They stopped and went over to the creature, which had died while running across the road.

Sarah looked up at her grandfather, who was rubbing his chin with his left hand.

“Uh, must have been a snake that had bitten it,” he said, “and the poison was running through the system.”

Sarah and Derek walked slowly back to the car. She commented, “You know, Derek, I wonder if the possum felt any pain with the poison going through its body. I wonder if it felt any fear.”

She sat in the car, thinking of the possum’s face; it seemed frozen in time, and she wondered where you went when you died. Does your spirit live on, or do you just see darkness and nothing else?

The car came to a halt. It seemed only minutes since leaving the tarmac, with trees on either side then the narrow street curved around the boxed houses, each with large front gardens and back gardens. The green house that belonged to their grandparents had the largest block in the street and you could easily build

two to three homes on it. Granddad parked the car in the garage, and then Sarah and Derek ran down to the beach with Scamp; the children ran along the beach as the dog chased seagulls.

“Come on, Granddad,” Derek yelled.

“Look, you youngsters, I am not as young as you,” Eric said as he walked quickly behind them, keeping them in sight.

The sand was cool on their feet. Heaps of small broken shells gleamed in the whitish yellow sunlight. Every now and then, long strands of grass would appear in the humps on small hillsides. The sand dune reached towards the sky. The water was deep blue, with the odd small wave.

The smell of the sea and the afternoon breeze felt awakening and fresh. Sarah loved the sea and enjoyed the beach, with the cool waves running over her toes as she ran along the edge, throwing a stick for Scamp to collect. After a couple of hours, they returned home, where they were told to do their breathing exercises.

Festival Weekend

The weekend came that Sarah was looking forward to: the surrounding areas (Greenwell Point, Nowra, and Culburra) came together for a western festival.

Sarah, Derick, and their grandparents pulled up to the park grounds. A white painted fence separated the cars from the large park. Sarah could hear the western music playing. The hay was stacked up in neat squares, and on the far end was a pole with yellow, blue, red, and green ribbons hanging down.

There were also races for the children. Sarah and Derick jumped out of the car; the sun was shining.

Sarah squealed in a high voice, “Look, this is great.”

They ran ahead of their grandparents and got to the dance area just in time. Everyone was lined up for the barn dance. Derick and Sarah learned the dances pretty quickly, and before long, everyone was swinging each other through the dances.

Then all the children followed the teacher for the pole dance, skipping through the different ribbons with their left hands on their waist and their elbows pointed out, while their shiny black shoes pointed in the air. They skipped around until the ribbons were all platted before bowing and letting go, so they unravelled in the sunlight.

Sarah looked up to see her father coming across the grounds. Yelling with joy, she ran to him and skipped along his side until they reached his parents.

The day went quickly. Sarah enjoyed all the western dance events and thought of how all the communities had come together to enjoy the day.

Adults enjoyed the beer and ate steak and onion sandwiches, dripping with sauce, while most of the children enjoyed sausages rolled in soft white bread.

Bush Fires

A year after they saw the possum on the side of the road, bush fires had engulfed the roadsides all the way from Nowra to Culburra. The whole road was alight. The roads seemed to wave with the heat as the flames jumped from one side of the road to the other.

One day, while they were driving home, Stephen was busy concentrating on his driving; he said, “Children, we must not stop under any circumstances.”

Sarah felt the heat of the flames as she watched the flames jump over the road. It seemed to take forever; in silence, no one spoke. They could hear the sirens in the background. Sarah looked back, the flames had tripled in height, and the crackling of the bush was getting louder. The smoke was starting to thicken.

Sarah looked out the front, leaning on her father’s seat. It was clear they had made it through. “Dad, that was amazing! Lucky we did not come later.”

“Yes, pet, it has really taken, and the roads are now totally engulfed with flame. If they do not get hold of this soon, it will be at the properties in no time.” They were only three miles from home and could see the fork where they would turn down the narrow dusty road.

The months went quickly. The undergrowth grew back quicker than ever. Within twelve months, the trees flourished and it was as if there had never been a fire. The green grass stood as tall as ever. The eclipse trees were back again and their

green and blue leaves were fun to bend and whistle through. Sarah found this difficult at first, while the other children in the neighbourhood mastered it. After a while, she managed to get a loud whistle and was proud of her new talent.

The birds also returned. Whistling filled the air, and the trees were alive again with the songs of the kookaburras and the odd hooting of the owls. The dry leaves crackled as brown snakes glided through them. Sarah’s thoughts turned to the amazing re growth of the trees. It was as if the fire had never happened. The woody areas were stronger and better than before.

After they returned home, Stephen decided the afternoon would be best spent in the sun, enjoying the waves. The children, including their cousin Pam, headed to the beach with towels and surfing boards under their arms. Scamp led the way as they all marched through the thin path down to the beach. All of a sudden, Scamp stopped and yelped, biting at something in the grass. Then a brown snake was flicked through the air, and its head snapped. The body wriggled for a few minutes before coming to a stop.

“Well done, Scamp,” Stephen announced. “One of the best snake catchers there is! No snakes have ever got away. Brown snakes are deadly, too; she catches them, and in seconds, they are dead.”

“Amazing dog, she never fails,” announced Pam.

One day, two years after Sarah and Derek’s mother had gone to the angels in the sky, Stephen came home from work and said, “Hey guys, let’s go see your grandparents in Springwood.”

Their grandparents lived in the Blue Mountains, which were named for their colour, due to the eucalyptus in the gum leaves.

Sarah wore a red velvet dress with a small bow in the middle of the chest. Noreen did her hair in curls, the way her mother used to (Louise always curled her hair and was very particular in the way she dressed). Derek was in his tros and top, which he always managed to have on sideways. They both looked so sweet and innocent.

The Welsons lived on a very busy road, Great Western Highway, which was the main road through to the mountains, travelling through Emu Plains, which had lovely fruit trees in the middle of the island. The trees with their soft pink and white flowers reaching to the sky, in their glory with the main road leading onto Sydney’s suburbs.

Their grandfather was a cheerful gentle giant (six foot two), very active, with thick wiry hair. He always teased their father about the spelling of his name, since he spelt his “Steven.” The entrance from the main road came down a very steep drive, where Sarah’s grandfather kept his black 1940 deluxe Ford; the windscreen had a silver bar in the middle to separate the enger from the driver. The car was solid with brown leather seats and it was solid and round with a small back window and two metal side steps to get into the car. Sarah loved the spaciousness of the car and its smell.

A large tree overlooked the front grounds, where the entrance was to a small veranda which led into a bathroom with a very deep iron bath. Sarah loved the bathtub, which was twice as deep as any tub she had ever seen. After entering through a glass door, lovely black wooden units held some ornaments, and deep red velvet curtains hung on the other side. A very heavy black phone sat on the side cabinet. In the square lounge room, her grandfather enjoyed watching tennis on the old black-and-white television. Then the bedrooms were to the side, with dark wooden cupboards, stepping down to another room a double bed sat on its

own. The largest room had a queen bed in the bottom section and large cupboards in the upper section.

To the back of the lounge room was a very bright hallway with thin sheds of glass that levered up and down. Aunty Sam lived in the room to the left; she was single and still lived at home. Her room was so dark you could not see your hand in front of you. That was the way she liked it. From the lounge room, you entered into a long yellow and green kitchen with checked red tile flooring. Long thin panes of glass let in the views of the mountains for miles. Around forty-five steep wooden steps led to the back garden, with a laundry underneath the building. The garden had a small fountain in the back, surrounded by large trees. There was a major bush fire in the fifties that roared through the mountains. Somehow, the house missed the roaring flames, which leaped over two and three homes. The Welsons’ home was not even hit.

In the sixties, two young girls went missing from Sydney. In order to make way for progress, roads were going in to make another suburb, Falcon Bridge. They dug the ditches just down from the Welsons’ back yard. Derek and Sarah often ran in the bushy areas, climbing over rocks and twigs, looking over the treetops for miles. Once the road works started, the machines stopped at the bottom of Steven and NAME’s land; they found two skeletons, which were determined to be the missing sisters from Sydney.

Their grandmother was a round woman with short straight hair. She was known for her pies and certainly knew how to make pastry. The filling was so juicy and tasty, the apples melted in your mouth. Sarah was scared of her. She spoke sternly and with a demanding tone, with a strictness that made you pay attention.

Steve stood up as they came in. Sarah and Derek ran to him, throwing their arms around his thighs.

“Great to see you all,” he said. “Missed you; hardly see you these days. How are you getting on?”

“Okay, Dad,” Stephen replied. “Still travelling from Sydney to my parents.”

“Hmm, must be wearing. I guess you will call in on the others at Emu Plains before heading back.”

“Yes, of course. We haven’t seen them for some time.”

Sarah sat down at the table, watching her grandfather read his paper with his blue budgie sitting on the edge of the beer glass. It sipped a little of the brown liquid from the top of the glass.

“Still doing your crosswords I see,” she said, “with a little help.”

“Yes, he loves the amber liquid. He chirps and happily twirls around the pen before I put him back in his cage.”

Aunty Sam came in. “Gosh, you children have grown, you are looking just like your mother, Sarah, with your hair like that.”

Sarah nodded then followed her aunty down the long wooden steps to under the house, where Sam was putting the washing through the rollers before hanging them out.

“How is your school and your new surroundings?”

“Okay, I guess,” Sarah said. “A little lonely. I do not have many friends, only the neighbours. We play with them after school and weekends.”

The girls went back up and ed the men. Nana brought out one of her golden delicious apple pies, and tea was served. Derek and Sarah watched cartoons while the adults spoke over their pie and tea, watching the birds fly from tree to tree and the blue haze of the mountains, you could see treetops for miles.

The afternoon ed quickly, and soon Stephen, Sarah, and Derek were in the car, backing up the steep driveway onto the Great Western Highway.

They arrived at Aunty Kay’s house around six o’clock. Louise’s youngest sister and her husband, with their four children, were at the back of the home. Sarah and Kay were talking in the front bedroom, when all of a sudden Sarah became hysterical.

Kay did not know what was happening, and then Sarah blurted out what her Aunty Noreen had told her: “My father did not want Derek and me to go to my mother’s funeral, since we would see her coffin going into the curtains, and when the flames hit her bones, she sat up, smiled, and blinked her eyes. Then she was gone to the angels in the sky.”

Sarah then lay on the floor and showed her what Noreen had demonstrated.

Kay’s face went red with rage and hatred. She turned to her husband and said, “I wish I could get my hands around that witch’s scraggy neck. How could she do this to a child? Worst of all, my sister’s child, has she no respect?”

Before they knew it, three hours had ed and it was time for dinner. Kay cooked for all of them, and they chattered about the Christmas holidays. After they ate, the children played happily with building blocks of all colours. Sarah felt happy and enjoyed being with her cousins.

After a while, Stephen announced, “Come on, we must be getting back, it is getting rather late.”

As soon as Stephen got to the expressway for the long journey home, both Sarah and Derek drifted off, feeling happy and contented. Sarah ing the cuddles and welcoming of her family and how happy she was to be with them again. She was filled with joy as she drifted into a deep sleep to the rumbling of the motor.

Journey to Port Macquarie

CHAPTER 3

Two years went quickly at Culburra. One night, around seven o’clock, Stephen entered the lounge room. Sarah looked up at him.

“Children, we are going to take an adventure,” he said. “We are going to start a new life in Port Macquarie.”

Sarah jumped with excitement, followed by Derek, who said, “We are going on an adventure; does that mean you will be with us?”

“Yes, I will be with you all the time now. Isn’t that great? A new start in life.”

They packed their clothes and belongings. It was a fine morning in this part of Australia that the aborigines named Windy Place. With a soft breeze in the morning air, Mrs Tussell drove them to the train station. She was a little lady with white curly hair and a high pitch voice. Unfortunately, the year before, her husband died after a heart attack, and she was left with four children to bring up. Sarah often heard her grandfather say how he ired her and always commented what a good mother she was. She lived down the small track where Scamp often flung the brown snakes until they were dead.

All the Tussell children told Sarah and Derek how lucky they were to be going away.

Stephen said he had sold the house in Hurstville to his cousin. He told Sarah, “They are moving from England. You will not be keeping your dolls, everything has to stay.”

Sarah yelled back, “Why? Not my favourite walking doll and baby doll.”

Sarah felt resentment for these people. Who were they to have their home and her things? Sarah was ten years of age and still wanted to keep what she felt was rightly hers.

Whenever she mentioned the dolls, her father would just respond with, “These people deserve it more than us, and my word is final.”

Sarah felt the pain of losing her dolls, which she loved. She only desired for them more. It seemed that everything she loved disappeared.

The train was long and silver, with very highly polished wooden hallways and small cabins with shelves which became beds. The journey was going to take over ten hours. The long cabins had little walkways ing the carriages. Most of the older children towered over them. The kitchen cart had very high vinyl seats. Derek and Sarah struggled to get onto the tall gleaming stools. The whole train smelled of polish and wood. What a treat, for they had never been on such a journey before and could not wait to see their father again.

The train went through dark tunnels and past trees and fields; they arrived in Port Macquarie and were greeted by their father, Uncle Tom, and Aunty Noreen. Stephen had purchased a boat shed, and Noreen owned the corner shop. The boat shed was right on the Hastings River, next to the ferry. The ferry held up to eight

cars at a time. This went across the river to the North Shore. The wooden boat shed was painted white with one large glass window on the right-hand side. At the rear, over the crashing waves, was a ramp which led into the water; a wooden wharf led out over the water.

There were eight small aluminium boats, and Stephen proudly mentioned he had the best Evinrude motors to go onto the back of each boat. He sold bait, cigarettes, sweets, mullet, fishing line, and anything to do with fishing. He was now in his element, although years later, Aunty Noreen told Sarah her father was not a businessman and her mother would not have agreed to such an adventure.

Noreen’s husband, Tom, was a little Scottish fellow with short stumpy legs. He also had a fiery temper, which Derek and Sarah saw over the years. He was also happy and easy-going, caring, and always laughing and bubbly, which the locals warmed up to.

The shop was across the road and had an aluminium roof. Three steps led up to the counter, and there was a kitchen at the back. The kitchen had a bright green table and matching chairs; the side of the shop was a long hall including a couple of beds. Derek still wet the bed, so he had his own bed. Sarah had to share with her father and Noreen and Tom slept in the caravan. Tom was very particular about cleanliness and was constantly at Noreen to keep it tidy.

Nana and Granddad stayed for a couple of weeks. Nana said that Sarah should look after her father, since she was the eldest. She should keep the household and assist her father where she can.

Sarah felt grown up at ten years of age and overwhelmed with her new responsibilities. They went to primary school; a two-Decker school bus would come down Hastings River Drive and pick them up. To the right hand side was

Pelican Island.

Sarah went to third grade class in Port Macquarie and for the very first time, she was top of her class in an A grade, the highest grade, and she did well. She could not believe how easy the work was. Sarah quickly made friends with Penny Wilson and they played happily together. Sarah told Penny that she did not have a mother. Penny told her parents that night, who felt sorry for this child with only one parent. On the weekends, Sarah would help her father serve customers. Under the counter were two large trays which held the worms that they sold. Willmar, the best worm lady in the area, caught them. She was a short lady with skin like old leather, wrinkled by the sun’s rays. She had not had a day at school and could not read or write. She rode a small red motor bike; she had a son and daughter who at the time were going to university.

There were only three boat sheds in Port Macquarie at the time. Jordan’s was up the top end, about seven miles up Hastings River, and the co-op was in the town itself. Willmar was in high demand and would always bring the fattest worms in deep yellow sand. Sarah loved feeling them between her fingers; they were soft and slippery, and the sand was cool and damp. Sarah also helped her father put the motors on the back of the boats. She made a rectangular tube and stitched it together with fishing line to catch a small clear fish, which was used for bait. She used to sell them to vacationers and the locals when they came in.

Her father was making money on cigarettes, and the business was doing well, but Noreen insisted that her brother could not sell cigarettes because she was losing profits. Therefore, Stephen stopped selling cigarettes to keep the peace. The boat shed was bringing in a living, and Stephen seemed to be managing. He always insisted he did better than Jordan’s, and they were open every day from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., seven days a week.

School days came and went. Sarah quickly made friends with some girls from North Shore: Sue, who was tall, and Trish, a short, plump, large-breasted girl.

Their father was a taxi driver known for flirting and having casual sex wherever he went, so the town said. Stephen used to say you could not have a shit without the town folks knowing.

It came time for Sarah to go to the next grade and she was always scared of repeating. Her grades dropped and she was now in the second-lowest class. Sarah would always hear of how well her cousin Tania was doing, hitting A grades, top of the state, and she had a brilliant singing voice, which made their grandparents very proud of her. How Sarah wished she was blessed with the same gift. She was constantly reminded she looked like her mother and how brilliant she had been: Louise could cook, sew, knit, sing, and clean the house brilliantly. Sarah had fond memories of standing in the small chapel, looking up at her mother while she sang hymns.

When Stephen taught Louise how to drive, he would often speed up the steep roads next to the chapel. Sarah ed the funny feeling in their tummies as the car bounced down the steep hills. She also recalled hat thrilling feeling when their mother used to tell their father off every time. Stephen would just give that giggle and gleam every time, with the children giggling in the back. Sarah often wondered if she would be as good as her, for she wanted to achieve in every area her mother did.

New School

One day, Sarah got some bad news: A new school was to open, called Primary West. She had to say goodbye to her good friend Penny; they did not know when they would see each other again. For the new school, Sarah had an old striped uniform, which she hemmed herself. It came out big and bulky, and the other children teased her constantly.

“Yuk, Gibson, you are not good enough to be our friend,” they said.

They all had new uniforms, nicely hemmed and pressed, and lived in proper homes. How much Sarah wanted to be like the other children, with clean and ironed clothes and nice homes. She played on her own; on the odd occasion, a small group of children would accept her. Her grades were suffering, and she struggled with her homework.

One day, after the school lunch break, the news came about the moon landing; Neil Armstrong was the first man to walk on the moon. The radio was on for all the children to hear. This was headline news everywhere.

On the weekends, Sarah played with Joy Paten, whose family moved into a small house that stood on steel posts about three miles away. Joy had a brother, Laurence, and a younger sister, Joe. She did not want to be seen at school with Sarah, since no one accepted her there. Sarah was embarrassed to introduce her father to any of her friends. Stephen always wore dusty shorts and brown shirts. He was only five feet three and balding, slicked back the little amount of fine hair he had. He didn’t care how he looked as his appearance was not a priority.

Derek and Sarah often helped Noreen out in the shop. Sarah thought her aunt was too tight. She expected them to work in the shop for nothing and would only give them an item that did not sell. After they had been working for weeks for nothing, they decided to get their own back. They would find one or two bottles, wait till their aunt was not watching, and sneak around the back of the shop and hide them and steel them. They would take them into their Aunts and Uncles shop and get five cents per bottle, not a bad scheme. Noreen could never understand why her crates were not filling up with bottles.

Stephen had to go to Sydney and made arrangements for his brother-in-law to take over in his absence. He decided to take Sarah and Derek on the trip, driving their Hillman Gazelle, which Sarah loved so much. As they drove on the highway into Sydney, Stephen started to laugh as a wheel rolled past his window.

He pointed and said, “Look, some poor bastard has lost his wheel.”

Just then the car started swerving, and it took all of Stephen’s strength to keep the car steady, for it had been their wheel which had come off. They finally pulled over to find out the back axle had broken. Stephen got out of the car and managed to find a phone box just up the road. The car was towed to the nearest garage. While it was being fixed, they walked down to an overhead bridge to a small café which was dark and dim and had hard seats. It was not at all inviting, but the children convinced their father to order some sandwiches. The bread was fresh and soft, and the ham and cheese was tasty. Sarah’s hunger pains were now disappearing, followed by bottled orange juice.

They collected the car and made their way on to see their aunts and uncles in Sydney. Stephen had arranged to stay with his youngest brother, Tom, so the girls and boys could play for a while. The following day, they set off on the long journey back to Port Macquarie. They arrived around eight o’clock, just in time

for the children to go to bed. They were ready for school the following day.

Mrs Farrett lived next door with her little girl, Louise. Mrs Farrett was a tall, slender woman who became friends with Noreen. Noreen always cooked stews to sell in the shop, when she wasn’t heating up the bread in the oven to sell for fresh. One day, Derek and Sarah decided to have some fun. While Noreen was working in the shop, the children had enough time to carry out their plan: They took the salt, pepper, and six different sauces and put them into the stew. They sprinkled salt and pepper on her cigarettes as well and then went outside.

Noreen came in and tasted the stew, just as she always did, but she could tell something was wrong.

Mrs Farrett walked in, and Noreen turned to her and said, “Will you taste this stew?”

After trying the stew, she said, “This tastes terrible! what did you do, Noreen?”

“I don’t know. I just put in stock and vegetables.”

“Noreen, this is certainly not good for human consumption; think: What did you do?”

“I only put in stock and vegetables,” she repeated.

“Well, Noreen, it should not taste this bad.”

Then Noreen turned and picked up her cigarettes. She lit one, and the taste of salt and pepper overwhelmed her. She choked and then realising what had happened.

“Derek, Sarah! Where are you?”

Sarah and Derek had sneaked out the back door and went across to the the other children from across the river, giggling as they ran.

The Holiday

Already Saturday, Mrs Farrett told Stephen, “We are going to take a trip up north. Do you think Sarah would like to us? She would keep Louise Company, and we’d be happy to pay for her.”

“Well, I am sure she would love to.”

Sarah overheard this and jumped with joy. She said, “A holiday? I have never been on a holiday. That’s great!”

They started off at seven o’clock in the morning. Sarah had packed her things in a small canvas bag the night before. She had never stayed in a hotel and felt like royalty. As the car drove way, her thoughts turned to imagining what it would be like. The first stop was a small hotel in Coffs Harbour; all the rooms were lined up in a row with different coloured doors.

Louise poked at Sarah on the way up and complained, “Why did you have to us? Now I won’t get all the attention.”

“That is enough, girls,” Mrs Farrett said. “Now, do get on.”

Sarah’s thoughts turned to Mrs Farrett’s words, thinking how she must have regretted this. Just then, she felt a pinch and grew annoyed, hit back and said, “Now stop it.”

As Mrs Farrett was busy singing along with the radio, Sarah felt a thump and complained again.

“Now Sarah and Louise, this is a holiday experience. Do get on like nice girls; this is an experience to be enjoyed.”

They checked into the small dark hotel. The room had a couple of lamps on either side of the beds. There were two single rooms for the girls and one large room for Mrs Farrett.

“Well, at least it is clean and fresh,” she said.

As Louise and Sarah started getting undressed, Sarah took off her underpants, and Louise looked at her quizzically.

“Sarah, did you have the operation where they cut your bits out?”

“What? No, they don’t.”

“Yes, when you get to a certain age, they have to, for health reasons, as you grow.”

“Who told you that?”

“I know, I heard them at Sunday school.”

Shivering at the thought of being cut down below, Sarah said, “I don’t think so, you must be wrong.”

She pulled on her pyjama pants to match her top and sat on the bed, watching television before falling asleep. The next morning, the sun shone through the yellow thin curtains, waking them. Mrs Farrett had cereal and toast ready with milk when they woke.

“Come on, girls, big day. We’re going to the banana country and another state today.”

After packing everything away, Sarah sat in the front, looking at the old houses as they drove by. “I wish I could drive,” she said.

“You will someday, dear.”

“Where is your husband?”

“He left years ago, leaving us on our own.”

“Oh.”

After a few hours, they got out to have lunch in a restaurant before driving farther north. By mid afternoon, they arrived at another hotel, which was more spacious, with two large rooms and a shower and bath. The girls packed everything away and followed Mrs Farrett to a small restaurant across the road, looking out to the sea.

“This is what holidays are about,” she said.

They ate their seafood and chips in silence. Sarah felt awkward as Louise glared across the table. They spent a week playing and making sand castles on the beach and jumping into the waves. By the end of the week, everyone had a decent tan. Sarah loved the feeling of the sand and salt on her skin as she lay on the beach towel. The week flew by, and the car was soon packed, and they headed back home, the small VW engine humming as they went along.

Windbag

Jim Atkinson was known as Windbag, his relatives owned Pelican Island, and as the last family member alive, he had inherited it. You reached his home by walking down the white sands to where the creek was; at low tide, you could slip across the mangroves and black mud by sliding your feet across the top so you did not sink into mud up to your ankles. A long windy track led all the way down to his wooden shack. A wooden door opened into the main room. Sarah guessed you could call it a lounge room, with wooden handmade furniture slapped together like the eighteenth-century homes you see on television. The kitchen was to the side, and three bedrooms came off a long veranda with window spaces but no glass, just sacks hanging up. A large boiler was outside, where the water was heated by a flame underneath for washing and bathing. To the side of the house at the rear was a three-sided shed with no door; the shed held a round tin and toilet seat, with plenty of blow flies. He used newspaper for toilet paper, and once the tin was full, he dug a deep hole in the ground and buried it. The floor was soft twigs and grass, and there were plenty of overhanging trees and shrubs.

Initially, Windbag had one cat; this cat had kittens, and before long, the place was overrun with cats. Then Winnie, as everyone knew him, got a white dog named Sadie who had pups, after a few litters, the cats disappeared. Winnie would take his small aluminium boat into Port Macquarie, down from the main pub. He was a little man as round in size as in height. He wore grey stained tros, rolled up above his tree-stump ankles, with braces to hold them up. His white shirts had changed colour through dirt to brown, and his skin was full of blackheads. He was a loud, jolly man who smelled of dirt, he would buy two large flagons and a whole bag of thin and thick sausages. Every second Thursday was pension day; you would see him coming, with about eight dogs eating the sausages hanging out of his stained pockets, with two flagons, one under each arm.

Windbag’s favourite plunk was cheap wine or sherry. He would drink and sing to his heart’s content, laughing and falling all over the second step of Noreen’s shop, swigging large gulps of cheap drink. Noreen was always on the war path every Thursday fortnight.

“Windbag, you are scaring my customers off,” she’d yell. “Get home with your plunk and take those dogs with you.”

He would roll with laughter and say, “I love you, sunny day.”

“Get on with you.”

All the children, Arthur, Harry, Derek, and Sarah, would look over the grass edge, giggling with the scene of Noreen yelling, “Get out of here!”

Windbag would laugh until he got on his feet and swayed into his boat, with the dogs jumping over him and into the boat. The boat swayed down the river until you could not see it, with Windbag swerving as he sang Australian folk songs like “Waltzing Matilda.”

The following week was cracker night. A group of the children got together to have some fun. They purchased small thumb toms and bangers. They waited until Uncle Tom was out of sight and placed a row under the sandy service by the gutter that led to the grass pathway. They put a second set a little farther up, and so on. The first lot went off and as all the children hid behind the telephone booth, Tom came running out in time to see the second and third lots go off. Tom’s short legs were jumping in the air as he pointed his fingers.

Sarah, Arthur, Howard, and Derek all held their hands over their mouths as Uncle Tom yelled, “You little bastards! I will get you for this, just you wait.”

Across the road, the planks of wood were stacked high, and the grass was now growing high between them. You could hear the singing from afar and then the odd laughter coming from Windbag, laughing to his heart’s content.

“Oh what can the matter be,” he sang, swaying from side to side.

Tom was still yelling, “You little bastards! I will skin you all alive.”

He stomped his feet and turned abruptly, walking up the cement stairs into the shop.

Then Howard set a bunker in a tin letter box with curtains and lit it, ran down the bank to the others. All of a sudden, there was a large bang! The yellow and white checked curtains flew in pieces as the letter box flew in the air and hit the grass bank with a thud. Tom ran to the window as a piece of tin fell down in front of him.

Over the next six years, Sarah and Derek helped their father in his business. Sarah would hear him say things were going okay. He took up provisional fishing after buying a wooden boat with a roll in back to lay the nets. You had to know the rivers and banks and where the oyster leases lay, you also had to understand the tides. In the early hours of the morning, Stephen would lay the nets, which often brought in a good catch. Sarah always waited for her father to

come in so she could claim the biggest fish; he caught flathead, bream, and black fish. Some nights, they rode on the ferry with spotlights, netting garfish, a long slippery fish with a long beak. You could scoop them up once you spotted the schools of fish. Most afternoons, she would watch the waves lightly crash against the cement drive where this ferry came in, with the large cables turning around and the cars waiting to cross, time seemed endless.

One night, Sarah decided to her father and a boy who was helping him. She grew very tired and began nodding off, thinking of Daryl, who was tall and blond and six years older than her. Stephen mentioned that his parents were quite old, and they only had one child. Her father and Daryl were scooping the nets and catching quite a few garfish. Daryl noticed Sarah was nodding off. He dropped what he was holding and ran to the end of the ferry, where Sarah was about to take a step into the deep cold waters of the night. He did not wake Sarah, he just guided her into the ferry’s small cabin. It smelt strongly of grease and engine oil from the motors as they hummed across the waters to the other side.

Stephen would barter the fish in exchange for oysters, and he had to sell so many to the co-op every week. Sarah used to feel so cheated for her father. They only paid him a miserable twenty cents per fish but sold them for a dollar apiece. This was the law, and they had no say in the matter. The control over the fisherman used to annoy Sarah. The co-op also had a say in what you could sell your merchandise for and the only thing they did not control was the large amount of bartering that went on behind the scenes.

The co-op was a white wooden building set across from the Woolworth’s Plaza. There was a strong, salty smell all of its own, with crates and crates of oysters, fish, and prawns. Large trawlers would dock in at the ramps. There were plenty of seagulls that were always on the warpath with the pelicans, which would float along without a care.

News of a Death

The morning of the death was around eight o’clock, Sarah went outside the boat shed with her father. There were police cars, an ambulance, and a crowd of people.

Sarah looked up at her father and asked, “What is going on?”

“Bad news, I am afraid,” a policeman said; he was in his twenties, tall, slim, with jet black hair and baby features. “Mr Farlene has died, it seems to be of natural causes.”

Sarah felt her heart hit the floor; she said, “What?”

She felt a surge of sickness. Mr Farlene had lived across from the boatshed with his wife and two daughters, who were older than Sarah. Their father had not returned from a fishing trip. His small cabin cruiser was usually docked across the Hasting River, outside of the taxi drivers house. After a search was made, they found his body under the boat, on the bottom of the river. They wrapped the body in a white sheet and carried it ed where Derek and Sarah were standing. It was reported he had a heart attack and fell overboard. A couple of months later, the house were put up for sale, and the Farlenes moved away. Sarah never heard from them again.

Derek and Sarah enjoyed endless time with Arthur and Henry, who were halfbrothers; their mother, Amy, had sixteen children a couple of different fathers.

Henry was a year older, Arthur was a year younger than Derek. They would wet down the wooden ramp at the back of the garage, making the brown Masonite boards nice and slippery. All the children would run to the top of the ramp and slide down into the river; this would bring hours of pleasure, with splashing and running up the ramp and sliding down several times.

After all of the children had dried off, they would then take out one of Stephen’s boats and speed around the river. When Christmas came, the fun would start, with the holidaymakers and their children ing in. Stephen would help them reverse their vans on to the grounds next to the poles across from the boatshed, as most struggled to steer their vehicles. The place was packed with laughter and excitement. Sarah would help her father serve and put the motors on the back of the boats. She sold the white bait she caught, which was in small plastic bags ready for the holidaymakers. There was constant demand for hire of the small boats and engines at holiday time. Stephen always said they gave better service and had better prices than the Jordan’s.

Sarah and Derek picked up a stray tabby cat, which they named Jenny. She was always hungry. One day, they decided to give her some milk; Jenny lapped it up and then collapsed in the afternoon sun, under the shade of the nearest tree. It was hours before she moved. Sarah thought the cat had drunk itself to death. It hardly moved, but once the coolness of the night air came, Jenny got up and walked slowly back into the garage.

Fisherman

Old Jack was a fisherman who lived up this long track, which went for about a mile. The track was deep with plenty of potholes made from heavy vehicles. It was so overgrown that no car could go up it. The track started from behind the brick toilet blocks at the end of the grounds, where holidaymakers would bring their caravans. Jack lived in a hut and owned two Alsatian dogs: Midge, a brown bitch, and Suttie, a black male. His hut had three steps leading up to the single wooden room. It was across from the small waterway that led off from the main river; at high tide, you could not walk across the sands. At low tide, the blue soldier crabs would cover the hard golden sands, which made it difficult to avoid treading on them. The sands crunched as their small claws made their way into the little burrows when the tide came in.

The hut consisted of only a bed and an old kerosene fridge. No toilet or kitchen, just a sink to the left. Jack always wore greyish tros that hung off his thin waist and a dusty shirt; he owned few pieces of clothing. His skin was hard, wrinkly, and spotted with blackheads. He had pitch-black fingernails, and his hair was a light brown and smelling of dirt. It was not long before he became best friends with Stephen.

Old Jack would give Sarah gifts of chocolate and fruits whenever she went to the shack. He would say, “Sarah, I know your father is struggling,” and then pull her close and finger her. “This will feel good,” he said, and then he pulled down her pants and started to lick her.

Sarah thought, He’s right, it did feel wonderful. She was scared and enjoyed it, although she knew it was wrong. He gave her money, which she used for school. This happened constantly, until Sarah was eleven and a half. It was known that he played with young girls. Whenever she was walking up the track, Jack would

yell, “Sarah, I have something for you,” and then he would finger her (he never had intercourse).

One day, he presented Sarah with a brand-new musty-coloured bike. Sarah was so thrilled, for she had not owned anything up to now. After a while, she stopped going to the shack, since she felt dirty and was ashamed of how cheap her life had become.

Competition

Stephen constantly mentioned the Jordan’s; he guessed they came into money from a family inheritance, which was becoming a threat to their business. The word was they were expanding, with hot showers and the highest quality facilities in the middle of Hastings River Drive.

Stephen’s boat shed was at the bottom of Hastings River Drive, next to the ferry that crossed to the North Shore. His way of dealing with the news was to announce that loyalty and good customer relationships would see them through. Then he came up with the idea of doing trips up and down the river. He bought a large blue and maroon boat with a cabin in the back for standing in front of the wooden seats that surrounded the back of the boat. The boat needed a lot of work, including sealing and waterproofing. It sat on the side of the grassy bank, with the propeller resting in the soft sand; it lay untouched for the next several years.

Sarah would her father on an odd early morning venture. He laid the nets at three o’clock, in the fresh morning waters, careful not to get snagged onto oyster leases. Sarah would watch the cork bubbles bob up and down while the lead sections laid along the sandy bottom, then the top of the net would slide over the rollers. After taking a nap for a couple hours on that hard wooden floor, her back and sides ached. They pulled the nets up and usually caught plenty of fish. Sarah would always pull the fish and crabs out.

Old Jack would constantly squeal at Sarah, ‘You will lose your hands, my girl.”

Sarah would hold their shells down while she pulled at the net to get them out.

Her father would say in a disapproving tone, “Sarah, you destroyed the nets again.”

She learned quickly how to mend them, constantly sitting on the wooden floor and repairing them with a plastic black needle until they were like new again. She’d say, “Better the nets than lose my hands.”

The waters were so clear that you could see the stingrays swimming near the shore and fish darting left to right, not to mention the slimy toad fish, spotted with large eyes on top.

As she looked at one, Sarah felt the presence of her father. “You know, Sarah, people who caught them and ate them became very sick and died, since they are highly poisonous.”

Lost Kitten

In the morning light, Sarah could see a small black-and-white body on the water’s edge. It was totally soaked; at first, she did not know what it was. She ran to the shore to find the kitten she loved so much, dead. Its little body lay lifeless near the riverbank.

She could feel her father’s presence nearby. “Sarah,” he said, “it must have been playing near the shore and touched one of those slippery fish. After licking its paw, the poison would have killed it instantly. At least it did not suffer, pet.”

A few weeks later, their cat Jenny gave birth. There were four kittens: two were tortoiseshell like their mother, one was full black, and one was grey. Sarah made a small bed for them in the back of the boat shed with old blankets and a small cardboard box. As soon as they were old enough, all four kittens were given away to neighbours.

Omo

One of their neighbours had a small bull terrier dog; it was white with black spots. Omo was well hated, since he attacked and killed many small animals in the area. One evening, Omo trotted onto the ferry, unnoticed; the ferry was threequarters of the way across the Hastings River when Omo looked over the edge and fell into the cool water. He was sucked underwater; after a few minutes ed, Omo’s head popped up on the other side. He paddled around in circles two or three times, got his bearings, and then swam to shore. He trotted off, and not long after, the news came that some chickens and stray kittens were spread across the shoreline. A couple of hours ed, and then Omo came across the other side.

The following morning, upon arriving at the door of the boat shed, they saw some remains of small cats. Sarah looked up at her father tearfully and imagined how afraid the cats must have been.

“Pet, I am sure it is Omo striking again,” he said softly.

Just then, there was a sudden screeching noise and a loud thud. Black and white paws stuck in the air; Omo had been hit.

The car stopped and the driver got out.

The neighbours cheered, “Don’t worry, mate, you have done us a favour. Well done.”

The driver stood, pale with shock, then all of a sudden, Omo rolled over and got to his feet; he shook himself and walked off.

Everyone looked startled; Sarah heard a voice in the back ground. “What?” Derek yelled. “Is Omo made of rubber and steel? That dog is indestructible and he has more lives than any cat.”

For many years, the killing went on, until one day, the family moved away, and the neighbours all breathed a sigh of relief.

Crab Attack

Derek went fishing with their father in the early hours of the morning. All of a sudden, he found himself standing on the nose of the small wooden fishing boat, yelling for help. One of the mud crabs had got loose from the nets and was on its back flippers, clanking its large claws at Derek, just missing his feet. With their ability to break a milk bottle in seconds, Derek decided to jump into the cool waters.

Once in the river, he cried for help: “Dad! Dad!”

Stephen was taking some small fish out of the nets; he looked up at the front of the boat and began laughing. “Just a minute, son, I will come to your rescue.”

He pushed the edge of the crab to the ground, flicked it into the plastic case, and secured the lid, with the claws clunking on the container.

Derek, shaking steadily, climbed back into the boat. “It is not funny, the water sure is cold. I nearly lost my toes.”

He wrapped his coat around himself as his father rowed the boat up from the mangos.

The boat glided into shore with the anchor firmly in the grass beds next to the boat shed.

Stephen started taking out the fish and crabs. He said, “Son, can you get the net untangled for me while I get this lump out?”

Stephen grabbed what he thought was a bunch of seaweed and put his hand directly onto a poisonous spiky fish. His hand swelled to three times the size, with small black spots all over the skin.

A knock on the door woke Sarah.

“What have you done?” she asked.

Tom ran out and saw the swollen hand; he said, “Stephen, you need medical attention. I will take you.”

Sarah got dressed quickly and ran across to where Derek was left standing staring at the nets. Just then, Jack came across with his two dogs and asked, “What happened?”

Derek looked up and said, “Dad’s hand is three times the size.”

“Oh no, let’s get this in order.”

Jack carefully untangled the net and disposed of the fish and seaweed in the

depth of the water. The fish swelled up like a large balloon and drifted away. Sarah helped with the crabs and fish; she put the boiler on, and all the crabs were spiked between the eyes to numb them so they did not throw poison through the meat or drop their claws. The lid went on, and you could hear the screeching and squeals as the boiling water hit them. Twenty minutes later, they were a golden brown colour and ready to eat.

Luckily, it was a school holiday, and Sarah was able to assist more in the boat shed, catching white bait and serving customers. Sarah enjoyed it so much. She was busy cleaning and wrapping the worms for the fisherman and putting the boats back and assisting with the motors.

Stephen’s hand stayed like a balloon for the next few weeks. He slept with it wrapped and to the side, watching for any lines that may appear (a sign of infection). The hand finally started going down, and before long, he was back to normal.

Sarah enjoyed the water more when the dolphins swam in the cool moonlight. She felt very safe from sharks, since they swam in schools of four or more, casually swimming by the boat shed towards the deep waters, leading out to the ocean.

Egg and Tomato Fight

One quiet afternoon, while their father was in the boat shed, Derek and Sarah sneaked behind the gates to where the eggs and tomatoes sat neatly in boxes. They took as much as they could carry and ran across to where several trees shaded the garage.

Derek threw the first egg and tomato, and then Sarah threw some, too. Bits of egg and tomato splattered all over the garage and side window. Derek threw the next lot, and egg and tomato stuck in Sarah’s hair and all over her clothing. Seeds and juice dripped off their faces as well as the large boat; the garage window and side of the garage were covered in yellow and red. Within half an hour, the grassy area and sands were covered as more children ed in. The side was totally splattered with tomato and slimy egg white and yolk.

When Stephen came out to see what was going on, he was hit with a well overripe tomato, which splattered on his bald patch and ran down both sides of his face, and then an egg splattered over his chest.

His face went red, and his shoulders hunched as he yelled, “Children!”

With the sound of his voice, all the children scattered behind the trees. He stamped his feet and marched back inside, yelling, “You should know better! Look at the state of this place.”

Many little eyes peering through the trees. They could see dozens of eggs and

tomatoes along the beach and down the side of the garage. Stephen got the large hose out and washed it clean. All the children ran down to the water hole and jumped into the cool waters, screeching and laughing as the sticky substance washed away. As the children ran, they dried off in the beaming sun, dodging the bright blue soldier crabs as they raced for cover.

Injury

Sarah was practising jumping elastics by tying elastic around a pole and onto a tree stump. She got bored with this and decided to jump over the sleepers on the other side; she slipped off the plank and fell. To stop the fall, she put her left arm out. All of a sudden, the bone was sticking out at the elbow.

“Dad!” she yelled.

Her father told her to get in the car and he started the engine and drove to the doctors, but the surgery was shut.

As they sat in the car, Sarah leaned forward, and the arm clicked back into place. The pain to follow was extreme.

Aunty Noreen was a first-aider; she came in and snapped, “Good God, girl, stop being a wimp.”

Noreen put her arm in a sling; the throbbing was unbearable for the next couple of days. Sarah felt the pain would never stop, but each day got more bearable.

After a week, the arm became more bearable and the pain was only slight. Sarah had been struggling with her schoolwork, which the other children found easy. She knew with more days off, she would not be able to catch up, so she went to school and tried to concentrate. Her thoughts wandered off, and she felt so tired

she would drift off for a few moments, to wake with a jerk of her hand slipping.

Storms

In the early part of 1970, in the middle of the week, a storm came that was like nothing anyone had ever experienced before. For three days, hailstones fell that were three inches around. The roof of the shop was sagging from the pressure of the ice. Stephen and Tom had to get up every couple of hours to clear this heavy ice so the tin roof would not cave in. The grass on either side of the road was covered in white, looked like snow, and the skies were whitish grey. The Hastings River was brown and muddy, caused from all the fresh waters from Hibberd and surrounding areas, which brought unusual substances from the nearby shores. The schools closed down for the week; no transport was running, and the schoolchildren jumped with joy. Men and women were busy trying to save their roofs, and with the loud thundering sound on the rooftops, you could not hear anyone speak. Once the ice stopped falling, the children rowed their small rubber boats down the middle of the flooded streets, with a lot of the parents yelling to watch the broken tree branches and dead animals caught in its wake. After a week ed, the waters retreated to their normal depths, and the ice melted and the roads cleared. School and business went on as usual.

As soon as school was out, all the neighbouring children would go jumping off the treetops and swimming in the deep creek down by Pelican Island. This was a good pastime in the summer. At high tide, the creek ed the Hastings River and covered all the blue soldier crabs that walked along the sands. There were so many at low tide, it was difficult to miss crunching them under your feet. The sands bubbled with life once the tides went out.

Like most weekends, Sarah was swimming with Arthur, Henry, and Derek, jumping off the rope and playing happily. She wore a tight black full-piece swimming costume. She could see in the distance where the green banks met the soft white sands, since the tide was on its way out.

Some older kids came over to them, including Raymond Plum, who was much older. He was eighteen and drove erratically wherever he went. At twelve years of age, Sarah did not take much notice as they came over to swim.

She could hear them but could not make out what they were saying. Raymond then grabbed her and pulled her under the water. She could hear voices saying to let her go. She could feel her lungs filling up and could see the sunlight glittering on the water above her head. Then she felt strong pains down between her legs, where Raymond had stuck his fingers. She was gasping for air and eventually managed to kick him hard as he turned her body loose. Eventually, she came up out of the water, gasping and choking.

The older boys went off laughing. One said, “She is not worth it, only trash; should have done her in. You nearly had her then.”

Sarah managed to get out of the water and walk home. The throbbing in the lower part of her body stayed for days. She begged her brother not to tell their father what this older boy had done, since she felt so ashamed. There were rumours around town in later years that he had raped his little niece, which Sarah could believe after her experience.

Over the next year, Sarah grew very fat. Her father told her this was puppy fat, and while she held all this weight, she found lifting heavy things easy. One day, the boys dared her to pick up the back of a VW Beetle, which she did with ease.

During their third year in the boat shed, at Christmas time, a small boy named Billy came with his family to the park, as they had done previously. Stephen started to notice money missing from the till. Some days, there would be the odd note on the floor below the wooden drawer under the counter (this was emptied regularly, leaving only enough change). They had no problems with dishonesty

in the past and were sure it was Billy. The signs had pointed to him, since he always had plenty of money, although they could not catch him, even after leaving money with ink on it. Nothing seemed to work.

As always Derek and Sarah were looking after the boat shed for their father, Derek wanted to prove he could lift an engine, which was the heaviest item in the building.

“Sarah, I can lift this higher than you,” he said.

She yelled, “No, I am stronger.”

Sarah lifted the engine higher than him, right at that stage, he pushed her. Sarah lost her balance and fell next to a propeller, which lashed her arm, and then she fell onto a knife laying on the floor, which slashed further into her arm. Blood began to trickle onto the floor.

Their father came rushing in and hit Sarah and yelled, “This is your fault, Sarah. I am sure Derek has done nothing.”

Derek got off once again. Sarah sat down and cried, with blood running down her arm (which Stephen never noticed). A voice inside her said, I am always being picked on, does he even care?

Brownies

Stephen decided it was time that Sarah got discipline and direction. He suggested that she the Brownies, which she did. She enjoyed dressing in the brown uniform and feeling part of a group, ing in with others as they learned how to survive in the bush. They learned to tie knots and do plays, and one day, Sarah was given a part in a play. She did not tell her father or aunt and uncle, since she felt embarrassed to have them around. She played a boy in a love story and had to run out on stage holding a guitar. She was nervous and hoped she wouldn’t forget her lines. Everyone came to see the play; when she ran across the stage, she slipped and fell into the splits but still carried on with her lines, which came out perfectly and looked as though it was meant to happen.

When Sarah turned to go off the stage, she saw her father, aunty, and uncle clapping.

Noreen spoke first, saying, “Sarah, why did you not tell us you were acting in a play?”

“Well, Aunty Noreen, it is not important, and I did not think you would be interested.”

“Nonsense.”

Sarah really did not want to be embarrassed; everyone else had parents they could be proud of. The play ran for another couple of nights, and the whole

family came, clapping at the end of the play. Sarah felt her nerves focusing on her acting and rehearsing before entering the stage.

The teacher encouraged her, saying, “You will be fine, Sarah, go on.”

Next, it was Derek’s turn to the Boys Scouts. He learned to cope in the bush as well, along with cooking, tying knots, and climbing trees.

Soon, however, Stephen could not afford to pay for Sarah to go to the Brownies, and so this had to stop. Sarah would occasionally take five dollars or so from the till without telling him to cover for any expenses. The adrenalin of not getting caught would run high.

Their father sold petrol for all types of motors, which became apparent to old Billy and his son, Thomas. Thomas was known for stealing other fishermen’s nets, and Stephen was sure one of his nets had landed in Billy’s hands. Old Jack mentioned to Stephen that they were buying the petrol to drink. They were spotted up the track towards his shack, for they were known alcoholics. Stephen walked up the track to find that Jack was right: They were drinking the petrol, as they did not have any money for alcohol. He stopped all sales of petrol to them.

Flicker

Halfway up Hastings River Drive lived Joe, a man in his forties. He had an old tin shack surrounded by fields; within one of the fields, there was a grey and white spotted horse named Flicker. Sarah used to constantly pat the horse and helped with her grooming. Eventually, Joe taught her how to hold the reins and ride the horse around the small paddock. She slowly gained confidence and used to rub her hands down the horse’s neck and put her head next to Flicker’s head. The horse showered her love back with a soft nodding of her head.

Late one afternoon, Sarah got on the back of Flicker. Laurence Paten and his brother rode their bikes up to the fence and started jumping and clapping at the horse. Laurence scared Flicker, who jumped over the fence. Sarah held on tightly to the mane but could feel herself slipping off. “Come on, Flicker,” she said. “It is all right.” She patted her when she could but was terrified as she jumped the fences.

Joe came out and managed to grab the leather strap and settle her, saying, “It is okay, girl.”

Sarah felt her body shaking and her feet give way as she got down off the horse. She looked into the distance to see the boys laughing as they rode off.

“What happened, Sarah?” Joe asked.

“The Patens scared her. Joe, I think it is best I do not ride her again.”

“Sarah, don’t let them win, do come back.”

“I will think about it. I do not want to bring trouble to your door.”

Sarah did go a few times more, patting the horse and supplying her with an apple each time. She finally stopped coming, since on a few occasions, she could see the Patens riding up behind her and did not want a repeat of circumstances.

Captain Cook Coin

Stephen decided it was time to visit his in-laws in Springwood. It had been four years since the children had seen their grandfather and grandmother. Around eight o’clock in the morning, they packed the car and set off in the red Holden Ute. The journey up went fairly smoothly, going along the expressways past the beautiful blue seas and mountain cliffs. The old red Ford had one bench seat and an open back; it was an old car. Their grandfather greeted them with the usual hugs and kisses, then directed them into the kitchen for some of Nana’s hot apple pie. He gave Derek and Sarah a special fifty-cent piece, telling them it would be worth something someday. It was a 1970 Captain Cook coin, celebrating two hundred years since the founding of the country. Both Derek and Sarah held the smooth coins within their hands iring the Australian map on one side and an image of Captain Cook on the back.

Steven asked them to stay for the weekend and catch up on all news. Nana had prepared dinner, which was turkey and all the trimmings. Sam was at work, so Sarah slept in her room, which was pitch black. The following morning, they prepared for the six-hour drive home. The red terror starting coughing and spluttering halfway through the journey. Stephen managed to steer the car into a parking spot down from a small row of shops. The night was cool and Sarah was beginning to ache. They pulled what coats they had to put around them.

Sarah could not get warm, and the next morning, as the sun came across the windscreen, she stretched out. “Dad, I am hungry.”

“I am sorry, pet, there is not much in the kitty, and we have to get this car going.”

Stephen worked on the car as Sarah and Derek watched. After getting the car started, Stephen drove another couple of hundred miles before it broke down again. This time, the pain of not eating for the whole day was getting too much.

Sarah and Derek handed their prized fifty-cent coins to their father, who bought a sandwich for them all. Stephen managed to get a part for the car and coasted the Ford down the hills. As they spluttered into Port Macquarie, Stephen pulled outside the rented flat, and the car died. Luckily, there was some food in the refrigerator, and Stephen would be paid the following week. Sarah felt so hungry she felt sick and could only eat a small amount of packet smashed potato and dried peas, which was nothing on her grandparents’ cooking.

They all crawled into their beds and slept to ten o’clock the next morning; luckily, it was Sunday. Sarah had the washing and housework to do, which she started on straight away, while Derek went out to play with the boys down the road.

That Friday, all the first formers were to play hockey against the fourth formers. Sarah was dreading the day, which was hot. The two teams lined up on either side; Sarah felt nervous against the tall girls who stood in front of her. During the first part of the game, Sarah played well against the older girls and even scored the first goal, and then she felt a sudden pain. Her little fingernail was split down the side and hanging off; the blood was dripping.

After the goal, Sarah held up her bloody finger and asked the coach, “Can I go off the field?”

“Of course, Sarah, well done. Let’s look at the finger, all right?”

The coach was tall and slim, tan, and wore a brown jumper, which looked as though it had been knitted with love. He dressed smartly and was softly spoken, with jet black hair and hazel eyes, a very gentle man. He put a cold pack on her finger and wrapped it gently; suddenly, she felt it start to throb. The game played on as Sarah watched the team being slaughtered by the older girls; the score was 12-1. The game was fierce. The taller girls hit their sticks as hard as they could and pushed the smaller girls so their feet went from underneath them.

Night with Windbag

As agreed by both men the night came around for Stephen went fishing with Windbag; they laid the nets in the early hours of the morning, with only the dim lights flickering across the quiet river. Both men decided to settle down for a few hours and get some sleep, while the fish swam downstream into the freshly placed nets, with their orange corks bobbing up and down. Stephen was just nodding off when he heard a loud noise around the open oyster hut where they had settled down for the night. He decided to investigate, but before he had a chance to see what made the sound, Windbag snored so loud that a large wild pig shot off so fast, the rustling bushes and twigs echoed through the still night air. Stephen was laughing so much he felt a pain in his sides. Anyone in Port Macquarie knew that Windbag was jolly little fat man who could not swim at all.

In the morning, Stephen could tell that the nets were full because of the echoes coming from Windbag as they pulled the nets in. They could see many tails flicking from the fullness of the catch; Stephen was so excited that he did not notice the tiredness from very little sleep. Upon arriving at the boat shed, they stacked the fish in the large plastic containers for sale and bartering, along with a couple of containers to keep the Co-op quiet which gave Stephen a chance to keep the largest oysters.

The following weekend, Windbag ed Stephen in the boat, and just before midnight, they spotted some garfish. Stephen turned around, and to his amazement, he discovered Windbag had fallen overboard and popped up on the other side of the boat, floating down the river, sound asleep, snoring as if he was in a bed. Steadying him with an oar, he guided him to the shallow waters, where he managed to drag him onto the sandy shores. He did not wake for a few hours, wondering what had happened.

On another fresh spring day, as the sun was shining down, Arthur and Sarah decided they would visit Windbag. They headed across the sands to the water hole during low tide; all the sea creatures are out. They walked down the thin path to Winnie’s place. The two children walked around the outside of the hut, but no one seemed to be home. They looked into the main bedroom, and there was Winnie, with his dogs all over him on the bed. He had his pants down, and the white bitch was on top of him. They did not stick around to see any more and they ran back down the track, panting.

“Arthur, we cannot tell anyone,” Sarah said after they stopped.

“They would not believe us anyway.”

“Did we really see, you know?”

“Yes, I think so.”

The pressures grew between Stephen and his sister. Their relationship was now suffering, and they decided to sell the businesses. Stephen got six thousand dollars, which would have been enough for a small block of land. Instead, he put the money in the bank and started to drink heavily. He bought several cars, and within two years, there was no money left. Noreen and Tom went back to their home in Condell Park in Sydney.

Stephen got a job at the local council, working on the roads; he always smelt strong of tar and dust. Sarah was about to start high school; they moved in with some friends Stephen met in Hibbard. Their son was around her age. They lived on a large farmhouse full of cats and chickens. The road was long and dusty

between fields. Because water was scarce, bath time was an experience and hard work. The wood had to be chopped to start a fire and heat the water and they had to wait for the water to warm up and then bathe one after the other. There was an old car that still ran, which brought much pleasure. All the children would spend the afternoon as engers as their twelve-year-old son drove up and down the paddocks, digging it out of bogs every now and then. One of the kittens got conjunctivitis in the eyes, so to keep the other kittens from getting it, the youngest boy chopped the kitten’s head off and burned it in the incinerator.

After a few months, Stephen found a pleasant two-bedroom flat in Hibbard, on the water’s edge, it was a lovely flat, clean and tidy, with an outside laundry with old cement sinks and the old-fashioned rollers to squeeze the water out of the clothes.

After six months, life became a struggle, for Stephen started drinking every afternoon and weekend. The pubs became a usual site. He would drive into Port Macquarie and give Derek and Sarah twenty cents each to spend for the whole day.

Sarah and Derek would go to the swimming pools at all the hotels around town. A small group of children would be amusing themselves until they got thrown out. They would start on the next pool until they went to all seven, and then they’d go back to the beginning.

Sarah new of the girl that was much little older and larger than Sarah, started pushing her. “You are just a worm. I never could stand you.”

This was followed by a punch, and then a fight broke out. Sarah hit back! Before long, the two girls were scrapping on the cement floor. The larger girl pinned her down and managed to get on top, pulling and scratching at her face and hair.

Sarah managed to thumb her, but then she pinned Sarah’s arms down with her knees and hit her in the face. Sarah felt the blood run from her nose, and then one of the boys pulled her off.

“That is enough. Leave the filthy bitch alone! She is nothing, anyway.”

Sarah felt herself fill up with tears, feeling useless at being beaten so badly. The bruises in her sides now started to hurt, as did the stinging from her hair being pulled out.

“That is enough. I know she is nothing! She is not worth killing.”

Sarah walked off down to the grassy edge with the words ringing in her head; she felt like a loser. All the others went off to the games parlour, where they had been before the fight started. An hour earlier, Sarah had won a game of pool.

Derek yelled at her, “You cheated!”

“I did not cheat,” she replied.

Sarah thought, they are right, I am nothing. I cannot achieve at school, and no one wants to know me.

Stealing

Stephen never had money for school items. With the word “No, we cannot afford it” ringing in Sarah’s head, she would steal what they needed. Sports pants were large enough to hide any items, and Sarah became very professional at it. One day, coming out of Woolworth’s, a policeman chased Sarah; she ran as quickly as she could and ducked into a bathroom. Holding her breath, she stood on top of the toilet bowl, as stiff as she could. She heard the policeman’s voice and then heard his footsteps disappearing. After what seemed like an eternity, she let out a deep breath and peeped under the door. No one was around, with her heart pumping quickly, she left the toilets, walked to the back of the Mid Pacific Hotel, and sat down on the sands, looking out to sea. There were only a few old people walking along the shoreline. The sun was hot as she walked back to the car to Derek, sitting in the Holden, waiting for Stephen to come out of the pub. The heat of the sun through the glass sent both Derek and Sarah to sleep. She felt lifeless, as if the energy had snapped out of her. Finally, around seven o’clock, Stephen appeared, happy and drunk. He drove home to a dinner of Spam, packet smash potatoes, and packed peas. He slopped at his food and made loud noises, which annoyed Sarah. With nothing to do, she went to bed.

Pub Fight

One weekend, Sarah and Derek were sitting in the car, as usual, when a fight broke out. Windbag started arguing with Harry, who was Arthur’s father. All the drinkers ran out of the pub to see Harry and Windbag, totally drunk, swaying and hitting at each other. After Windbag threw a punch, his pants fell down. As he bent down to pick them up, everyone could see he had no underpants on. All of his manhood was there for the world to see. Mothers sent their children in other directions. Harry threw a punch that went right over Windbag’s bald head. Eventually, Harry was squashed when Windbag fell on top of him; his snowwhite backside pointed up towards to the ceiling, with his pants tangled around his ankles. The roars of laughter echoed through the pub as everyone fell apart. No one could stand up to help while the two men struggled on the floor.

People were coming from every corner to see what was happening. After a while, one of the drinkers managed to pull Windbag off Harry and pulled up Windbag’s pants. Winnie pulled up his braces and cocked his eye over his solid fat shoulders, as he tripped to a stool. Another friend, a little shorter, managed to hold Harry back, as he wobbled to his feet.

He yelled in a slurred voice, “I will killlll youuu.”

His head wobbling from side to side, Trevor put them into his boat, with them both glaring at each other and still throwing their fists. The engine started and then the boat disappeared into the distance.

Dot

Dot was a woman in her seventies who took a fancy to Stephen. One day, he decided to help her out by lending her some money. She was thin, wrinkly, and, as far as Derek and Sarah were concerned, the ugliest person they had ever seen.

“You know, Derek and Sarah, you do not know how lucky you are to have a good father,” she told them. “They are hard to come by.”

After pausing to take a deep breath, her piercing black eyes staring straight through them, Dot continued, “You can tell by how well you and Derek have turned out.”

Sarah could smell the drink on her breath and the stale perfume that lingered with her smokes. She was losing her feet from the obvious heavy drinking session. Her thin fingers wobbled as she searched for her house keys, which seemed to have disappeared (meaning she was locked out). Stephen put Dot against the wall to steady her and pushed his shoulder on the door, which opened instantly.

“Look at my strong man,” she said.

Her long fingers ran all over Stephen’s face and the remaining bit of hair stuck on the side of his head. After he sat down, Dot sat on his knee and began kissing him ionately, saying, “Thank you, Stephen, you are my hero.”

Her lips were now firmly on Stephen’s, with her arm around him and his arm around her. Derek and Sarah sat across from them and looked at each other. Sarah thought with horror, this might be our new mother. She felt a sickness and could see the despair in her brother’s eyes.

They both said together, “Yuck.”

The lovers were so engrossed, they did not hear them.

After a while, Stephen could not afford the flat, and before long, they were on the move again. He had heard of a cheap house on Stevens Street, a dirt road full of light clay stones with no lights. On the first corner was the Stephenson home, and further down, another house painted red, with a large half-finished boat. It was owned by a middle-aged man named Pete; he had built the house and all his own furniture and was very proud of his workmanship. In later years, he became a good friend.

The house was down the bottom of Stevens Street with a round grass patch in front of the garage and a flat tin roof. At the back of the garage and between the houses to the rear was a small wooden house with a tin toilet and a wooden seat. The tin had to be emptied into a hole in the ground, which was filled with maggots swimming happily in the smelly substance.

There was a roll of toilet paper at the side, and every now and then, you could see the sun shine through the cracks of the wood.

At the front of the house was a wooden veranda, which led into a small room with a window that separated the lounge room. This room became the shower room; there were small cracks on the side of the flooring, and Stephen rigged up a tin bucket with a copper shower head on the bottom. The water would be heated in a large saucepan and then poured into the bucket before showering.

The lounge room had broken lineal flooring and a main bedroom off to the right and the old lineal flooring had pieces missing, showing the old floor underneath. An old piece of cotton separated the two rooms. The hall went from the front door to the back door.

The second bedroom to the back of the house led off the kitchen, which had an old green enamel Aga oven to the side. Just before entering the back door to the garden was an old yellow and green wooden cabinet to hold the dishes.

Out back, there were three steps down to the swamp area, with a piece of wire to go from one tree to another for a clothesline. Stephen bought an old copper boiler so Sarah could do the washing. The Hillman Gazelle, which had been used for fishing, had now rusted out and was left just to rust away where it sat. There was thick bush just before you got to Pete’s house, with a muddy creek in front of the property, which became quite deep at high tide. Still, this was home, they were given a brown three-seater lounge with the bottom strings hanging down. Sarah put all of her mother’s fine bone china in the cabinet.

She also put her mother’s lovely silk spreadsheet on one of the beds. Stephen apologised to the kids because times had become so tough. Sarah felt proud to have a roof over their head, even though they did not own much.

Bull Charge

The weekend had come around fast Sarah and Derek caught up with Arthur and Henry. Looking at the tide and the cool waters and the fact that the journey would be much quicker, they all looked at each other and decided to take a shortcut. The crossing had been done several times, through to the main town centre. The afternoon was hot and dry, and the four children started to swim across the mouth of Dead Man’s Cross at the bottom end of Port Macquarie, just down from the co-op. Sarah was in front and the boys followed behind. As the water reached higher and higher, they climbed to the top of the grassy slopes then headed across the fields. This cut the journey in half. Climbing through wooden planks and wire, they had reached the fourth field, over and under wire fencing, probably four feet high.

In the last field, there was a brown bull with a black spot in the middle of its forehead. It was larger than the other bulls and started shuffling its feet. Then it snorted angrily and put its head down, and the sound of heavy hooves was coming towards them. The horns were pointed at them, and the bull was gaining speed. Sarah did high jump at school but always failed to make the jump; this was no time to think. She could feel the warm breath and hear the thundering hooves. Without any hesitation, the four bodies leaped over the fence, with very little effort, as if the wind had carried them. Sarah did not even jumping, just the large animal snorting at the fence. They ran to the small track at the end of the fields and collapsed in the coolness of the grass, feeling the slight breeze while looking up at the soft puff of clouds that sailed effortlessly across the sky.

“That was close,” Arthur said.

“I do not jumping,” Derek said, “but I am sure we all sailed over

together.”

“Yes, Derek, that was close.”

After about ten minutes ed, everyone got to their feet to walk the rest of the distance down Hastings River Road.

After school was out, Derek and Sarah would meet Stephen at the pub as usual. Looking down the walkway after leaving the pub, Sarah hoped no one would see them with their father, since she always thought of the embarrassment.

Stephen called out, as Sarah and Derek ran ahead, “Children, slow down.”

As he spoke, the top plate of his false teeth dropped out of his mouth and hit the cement at an angle, breaking the two front teeth. Stephen picked the plate up without any hesitation and put them straight back into his mouth. After seeing him put his teeth back in his mouth, with the bits of tooth missing, Derek and Sarah walked ahead faster, so no one would know that this man was in fact their father.

They reached the car and got into the back seat together as Stephen fumbled for his keys to drive back home.

Sarah often saw others her age out on their bikes and having fun; she felt cheated. Saddled with the responsibilities of cleaning, all Sarah could think of was to go riding on her push bike. Housework was the last thing on her mind.

She did not take notice of the state of house. She had not washed the dishes for days or even bothered cleaning anything up. Clothes were just left where they were lying. After all, fun in the sun was more important. Stephen would fire up the oven and put dried orange and lemon peels in the oven, which would flavour the foods. They got to the stage where there were no dinner plates to eat from. Mice ran through the home, leaving their little black droppings.

Stephen would just serve up dinner on the dirty plates and hand them to Derek and Sarah, saying, “Here, eat your dinner, you are going nowhere until you do.”

Sarah felt sick, she could see that the plates had the previous food, and the mouse droppings were just brushed off. She started to heave, ate the top of a potato, and left the rest and without her father seeing, she threw the rest out of the back door. She looked at the clothes on the floor and noticed that her mother’s beautiful bedspread had gone mouldy, and most of the pure bone china with gold trimmings had broken. As night fell, Sarah’s thoughts turned to the day’s events and how her mother must feel, seeing all her prized belongings destroyed. She made up her mind to become very particular in cleaning; she would look after her stuff and treasure what she had.

Pea and Bean Fields

Before Sarah entered high school, she was very nervous, for they needed more money to pay fees. She decided to earn extra cash and found a job picking peas and beans, which meant getting up at 5.30 in the morning. She had to have sandwiches and a drink ready, because if she didn’t, she would not have anything for the day. A green jeep with a canvas cover and hard tin seats picked up the workers at the top end of Stevens Street. Sarah was greeted with seven older people, all wearing large brim hats. To her surprise, her father also ed her.

They drove to long fields of peas and beans out in nowhere. They would start at the beginning and pick the fresh peas, which tasted so light and crisp. Sarah would stand, bend, and sit on her tin. The sun was hot and burnt her neck; her back would ache and then her sides. Then she would kneel beside her tin to try and cope with the pain; the sacks seemed to take forever to fill. You would get $2.50 for a sack. In a day, she could earn five to six dollars. The bags were heavy, almost three kilograms, and she would drag them up behind her. Her father or one of the other men would take them down for weighing.

There was a man named Stan, who at the time was sixty-two years of age, six feet tall with solid broad shoulders and a deep golden tan, muscles, with not a wrinkle on his body. He would throw two bags each on his back and drop them as though they were a feather. Lunchtime was spent under the shade of any tree you could find. Sarah would work every Saturday and Sunday from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. and go home exhausted. Some weekends, Arthur, Henry, and Derek ed Sarah in the fields. Every now and then, a pea or bean fight would start up with peas and beans thrown across the fields until someone yelled at them to stop.

One weekend, Arthur, Derek, and Henry ed Sarah for a day of picking beans. At lunchtime, the four children sat together under the shade, looking across the

hedge at two older ladies in their seventies, sitting across from them with black rotten teeth, smiling at them as they ate their sandwiches with their legs apart, wearing no underwear. Both Harold and Arthur almost brought up what they had just eaten and they threw their crusts at them, barely missing them. They just sat, smiling, with their black teeth showing and wrinkled old skin like dried prunes, exhausted of all moisture. Sarah felt a lump in her throat and found food unpalatable at the sight in front of her. She stretched and could feel herself ache as she walked slowly over to the small bushy plants, where her tin sat half-full.

The day was long, and the rows seemed to go forever; you could not see the end of one row and down the next, just bodies bending over and picking as much as they could. Sarah often wondered how they managed six bags in a day; she could only ever get three sacks in a day. Still, this paid her and Derek’s school fees.

The time had come to go to high school, which was opposite the town beach and Flynn Beach on top of the hill. There was a playground at the front and a twostory rectangular building to the back of the school. As per usual, Sarah did not do well in her studies and had few friends. She would sometimes ride her push bike in to school. One day, she noticed a flicker of yellow feathers from a small brown body on the side of the road. She placed her bike down and picked up a small creature; it was a bird that had been winded. She placed the bird gently in her pocket and continued on to school, checking on it regularly. It slowly came around and started chirping. Sarah decided she wanted to keep the bird as a pet, but when the teachers found it in the box she made for it, stuffed with cotton wool, they decided Joy should have the bird (Joy had an aviary at home, full of different finches and budges). By lunchtime, the bird had gained its strength and flew away, which pleased Sarah, since she did not want Joy to have the bird.

Whenever a new student started at the school, they would be friends with Sarah for the first two weeks, until they found their feet, and then they would in with their own group. The popular boys and girls had great suntans and excelled in sport. They were the heroes, and all the other students wanted to be with them.

Joy and John would sit together in science. John would constantly put his fingers into her pants, and she soon got the reputation of being the local slut. The girls changing room was filled with talk of who had sex, with whom, and how great it was.

Then the girls would turn on Sarah: “No one would want to touch you, Gibson. They don’t know what they would catch.”

Carnivals would come, as well as sports day, every now and then, the sex symbols would be missing, having sex in the small toilets near the sports oval. Girls wore very short blue checked uniforms, and on sports day, most of them made sure their top dress were very short, coming well above the yellow bloomers. Most of the girls had well-tanned legs; after all, surfing was the real thing to do on the weekends, and they loved being seen with these sexy men with long hair and muscles.

Sarah usually sat on her own and read. She found it difficult to approach any small group, as they would shy away. Once in a while, someone would decide to talk to her or be friends for a short while. One afternoon in a maths class, she had enough of the kicks and pushes. She sharpened her nails into a point and stuck them hard into a boy’s arm. He let out a large scream, while Sarah just went on with what she was doing.

School bags had to be left out in the hall and collected after each lesson. One day, when Sarah picked up her bag, it opened, and all the contents flew down the four flights of stairs: approximately eighty steps in all. The other students stood at the top of the stairs, laughing and yelling, “Huh huh, this is great,” as they pushed past.

Sarah wanted to be as good as the rest, but she was not intelligent. She was

always second or third last in sport activities and no one wanted her on their team. The teachers would put her onto a team, and everyone would get upset. When school outings and events came around, Derek and Sarah could not attend, because they had no money. “That is for other people,” their father would tell them. “They are more fortunate.”

Sarah dreaded every school day; when she got home, there were always plenty of chores: all the washing, ironing, cleaning, and she helped her father cook the meals, then on the weekends, she worked hard on the bean and pea patches, earning what little she could to what fees had to be paid.

At the end of the week, Sarah sat down on the bus, paying no attention, when one of the girls offered her a chocolate biscuit. Sarah accepted, but after eating the biscuit, the girl laughed and showed her the other biscuits on the floor, with white stuff over them. Sarah started heaving; she felt so sick, and the girl just laughed and said, “You ate vomit.”

Sarah was still heaving when she got off the bus; she could not wait to get some water. As she walked quickly down Stevens Street, she felt hot tears start to roll down her cheeks, thinking of how much she was hated.

Two people moved into Port Macquarie from Sydney: Hazel and Lynall Push were not married but had the same last name. Hazel was short and round, with blotchy skin, pink and brown splotches, and brown hair. Lynall was a thin man. They had nowhere to live, so Stephen helped them out, and they moved in for a while, which meant Stephen now had another drinking mate to go to the pub.

Sarah was now developing slightly, and one day, Hazel decided it was time to tell her about the birds and bees. She said, “Never let anyone touches you above the knees, when you are married, that is different.”

Hazel would make toffee apples, and on the odd occasion, she would burn herself. Lynall and Hazel would constantly remind Sarah, “You are so lucky to have a father that is there for you; after all, it would have been much easier for him to put you both in a home.”

Sarah felt so annoyed and felt herself screaming inside; Hazel would continue but Sarah tried to void out what she was saying: “Sarah, you should be grateful for what you have; look how lucky you are.”

Like previous afternoons, Sarah was doing the wash by stamping the clothes with her feet. She often jumped up where she could not reach, and this time, she landed on a small jam jar, which broke under her left foot. The foot all of a sudden felt very heavy, with blood going everywhere. Hazel wrapped her foot in an old white sheet and threw Sarah into Lynall’s old Holden, which barely started. He drove quickly to the hospital, with Sarah’s leg up on the dash. The doctor took them straight into a cubical and put twelve stitches in her foot and then plastered her leg. She was told not to put pressure on and felt the pain after the injections she had received wore off. She was to be off from school for a few days.

Hugh and Stacey Botson were newcomers to the school, and Stacey had become friendly with Sarah, especially on the weekends (well, after all, who wants to be seen with Yucky Gibson at school times?). Hugh was blond and intelligent and hard to beat in any sports he played in, so he was the idol of the school; most girls wanted to be seen with this new sex symbol.

Stacey came over and had plenty to say about Sarah, hobbling on with one foot, telling her, “Stop putting in on, it is not that bad.” Sarah put up with this thin girl with short wavy hair; after all, she was of some company, even though she was often annoying.

Once the schoolchildren knew what type of home Sarah and Derek lived in, this only fed the fuel for further torment, giggles, and jokes. There was talk of murders that had happened in one of the nearby shacks. It had broken wooden boards and thorns and bushes growing through. Sarah had to this house on her way home; it was three houses up from Peter’s lovely red home.

Mind Torment

After a while, Hazel and Lynall moved in with Peter, virtually next door. Peter soon started to lose weight and became less interested in his hobbies. You would often see Hazel and Lynall arguing on the main street of Port Macquarie. One hot summer afternoon outside of the tavern, Lynall grabbed Hazel by the back of her thin cotton dress and dragged her down the cement path. He commenced kicking her with his heavy boots and then would pull her, ripping her dress further and further, showing the large bulges, then punching her face. By this time, there were plenty of bystanders. No one wanted to get involved, so the onlookers either went on with a sign of disgust or yelled, “Give it to her!”

Eventually, he pulled her bruised and battered body to her feet and threw her into the enger side of the old Holden. He then yelled at Derek and Sarah, “Get into the car!”

Sarah and Derek climbed into the back, not saying a word. They silently looked out the window or glanced at each other on their journey back to the house. Lynall parked the car and headed next door, leaving Derek and Sarah to hobble inside in silence.

Muddy Dive

Another weekend when Stacey came over once again. Everyone met at the boat shed; this time, there was a small canoe at the end of the wharf next to the shed. The two girls and three boys all argued over who was going to get into the canoe, so three of them tried to get in altogether, for the water was already starting to go out. The canoe just sunk into the mud, where it stayed, for the water always looked deeper than it was. Then they heard a splash, as Stacey dived into the water and hit the smelly black mud. They saw her legs flipping and then she emerged with a cry. Her face looked like a minstrel’s, with a black mud mask and two large white eye rings and one big white ring for her mouth. Everyone fell about laughing on the wharf.

Stacey squealed, “How could you? I could have died! Look at me!”

She had to swim deeper to get the stinky substance off her; the mud was thick through her brown curls. As she came up onto the grassy area, Sarah could hear her tears and mumbled, “How could we laugh at her? She could have died.”

As soon as Stacey stopped sobbing, they all headed back to Steven Street, where Sarah served fresh orange juice and crisps, and everyone sat out on the grass, lapping up the afternoon sun.

Mercedes Benz

Stephen was so pleased that he managed to pick up a really good deal: a green second-hand Mercedes Benz, with brown leather seats and polished dashboard. Sarah loved it so much; it was like her father’s old Hillman. He drove his car proudly.

Sarah had a small black dog, which she loved; she would take him swimming or for short runs along the sand flats at low tide. One day, she heard a loud yelp, and the dog came running through the corridor. She grabbed the dog, who was frothing at the mouth, and looked all over him: no marks, nothing on the dog at all. Within ten minutes, the dog was dead. Her father said it must have been a snake for the animal to go so quickly. Sarah knew it was not ticks. A year before, she had nearly lost him through ticks. She sat up all night, holding him and dropping water down his dry mouth. After a few days, he came around and was back to good health. Sarah tried to bury him but could not dig a hole deep enough to cover the dog’s head, so her father had to finish the task.

Stephen would go fishing with Derek, leaving Sarah in the house alone; they would not get in until early morning. Sarah’s thoughts would often turn to the horror stories within the neighbourhood, about the murders up the road and a murder in the house where they lived. She used to go to bed and cover her head. Before she fell into a deep sleep, she’d put her head under the covers, thinking, If they are going to get me, they would get me anyway.

Tongue for Dinner

Next door to Peter lived Keith Atkins, who was a thin, tanned man with brown greyish hair. He would often Stephen down the pub for a drink. He lived in a small caravan with a maisonette board building on the side of the van. He had Stephen, Derek, and Sarah over for a meal, which was served on tin plates. It consisted of lamb tongue, which was still in the form of a tongue, with the small white hairs showing, followed by meat lumps at the rear of the tongue in the form of tonsils, mashed potatoes, packet peas, and very thin gravy. Sarah could not eat her meal; the sight of tongue in full form made her feel ill.

Sarah was hungry but found her hunger disappeared. Even though her tummy rumbled, she told her father she had homework to do and managed to escape the offer.

On the same block lived Sandy, Arthur’s half-sister. She was nineteen years of age. Her partner, who was around thirty-five, recently divorced his wife. They had six children and happily lived off the state.

On the odd occasion, Sandy would ask Sarah to mind her little boy, Daniel. One day, when minding this small child of sixteen months of age, he started crying and screaming! It did not matter what Sarah did. He seemed fine; he had been fed. She tried walking with him, holding him, burping him: nothing worked. Sarah could only think of what others must think. It sounded as though she was murdering this child. The squeals went straight through her, she felt her nerves tingle. In haste, she picked the child up and shook him, with his head going from side and to side. She put him down, and there was silence.

Sarah thought, oh my God, what have I done? Did I kill him? The silence was short-lived, and he started again with deeper sobs. After what seemed an eternity, he fell into a deep sleep before his parents eventually arrived home. She felt terrified of minding any other child, and this certainly did put her off minding children.

Sarah heard Sandy telling her partner, “That’s Keith’s wife there in the photo; she divorced him because he used to empty the toilet cans and would not shower before getting in bed beside her.”

Sarah thought of how pretty she looked and could understand why. Who would want to get in bed with someone like that?

Stacey and Sarah needed some pocket money, so they offered to clean Keith’s van for him. Sarah decided to start on the bedroom. The room was pitching black, so she was feeling for the switch when her hand went onto some uncovered wires. She felt this strong and a high buzzing force of energy shoot all the way through her body. For several moments, she felt pinned. After what seemed an eternity, she managed to pull her hand away, still feeling the tingles throughout her body.

Then Sarah picked up the sheets, which were black and slimy and slid through her hands. They were slippery and smelt of grease and dirt.

Sarah called to Stacey, “Let’s try and start on the kitchen part instead.”

Both girls opened the fridge, which had different lumps of meat with blood dripping from each shelf and blood on the door. The sink that held the plates was

alive with maggots between each layer, and there were pieces of brown food in the sink. Tracy ran outside, heaving; Sarah could only laugh. Where to start with such a place? Not knowing where to start, she looked at Stacey, who had gone totally white.

“Stacey, I cannot do this.”

“Neither can I. Let’s leave him a note.”

They found a pen on the side and left a note, which read “Sorry could not find any cleaning stuff, therefore, no fee charged.”

On arriving home that night, Stephen rubbed his hand over his chin, looking at Sarah and Derek. He said, “I know you will understand I need to help old Jenny out, after all, she has helped me out on several occasions.”

Sarah answered, “Well, if it’s the right thing to do, then help out Jenny.”

Jenny was a thin lady in her seventies. Like Stephen, she loved her cigarettes and smoked plenty with her thin shaky hands. The brightness of life had gone out of her large brown eyes. She wore a catheter on her right side. Sarah had to give up her bedroom so Jenny could have her space. She slept with her father again in the back room, and Derek had his own, since he still wet the bed.

Jarah Preaching

Early one Saturday, on a fine spring day, three Jarah Witness visited the house to spread the word.

“Now, dear, here are the books to guide you the right way,” the man told Sarah, handing her some books. “You do believe in God, don’t you?”

Before Sarah could answer, the man and two tall, thin women had entered into the lounge area. Jenny was coughing and splattering in the background, as Sarah put the books on the old wooden kitchen table, where the paint had worn off, leaving only pits of yellow and blue.

Sarah pulled out the chairs and said, “Sit down.”

Sarah and Derek sat down. An hour ed, and the scripture was read from the first book, then every Saturday, the three came around for lessons on God’s way, leaving small books to read each week. On the eighth week, Sarah spotted them out the window and ed Stacey, hiding under the bed. They tried to keep their giggles down, while Derek sat through the lesson. Sarah could hear his deep breaths and sighs, his feet tapping on the floor. They finally left after an hour, which seemed to go on forever. Stacey and Sarah managed to slip out the back door, wearing only their swimmers. They crept along the house to the front, where the water met the grassy bank. They slid into the cool waters at the bottom of the garden and swam out to the next sand bank, running along the golden sand. Every now and then, they would dip into the water.

Sarah said, “I don’t think Derek is happy.”

Stacey looked behind them. Derek was pushing his way forward through the waves.

“You bitches,” he snapped. “You should have warned me.”

After catching up to them, he splashed the girls, and then they ran onto the sands in the hot sun, feeling the heat of the day.

Sarah and Derek met up with some local children; before long, more and more ed in running along the sands. When they got back to their home, Jenny was snoring out of control. They went up to the shack, where the thorns were out of control, and Henry pulled out a pack of cards.

He said, “Do you know how to play strip poker?”

The six children were handed four cards at a time. One by one, someone would run through the house with no clothes on, chasing one another through the hall and out to the back of the house. After many yells and screeches, they got dressed and dispersed in different directions. Since the house was secluded, there was full privacy. There were no adults around in the afternoon.

Garage Roof

One Saturday morning, after the school holidays finally came, Derek and Sarah had time on their hands. They were looking at each other across the table after they had eaten and washed up in the large enamel sink.

“Derek, let’s extend the cubby house today.”

“Yes, good idea, Sarah.”

They both some boards and Derek climbed on top of the garage. Sarah handed the boards, one after another, until all three boards were on the roof.

Then Sarah climbed up onto the stumps and jumped onto the roof, putting the first board next to one of the existing boards, then the next. She only had enough room to kneel next to the room. Derek and Sarah got the last board and were steadying it on top. The roof almost done, but then the boards started to slip on the long hallway of the extended cubby house. Sarah was kneeling on the roof when the outer wall started to move.

She yelled to Derek, “I can feel myself slipping!”

Then she felt the freedom of falling for a few moments. She could see the beauty of the blue sky above her and the clouds moving, then she came down with a thud on her back, just a few metres from an old tree stump about three feet high,

with thistles growing all over it.

She felt a jolt of pain, and then came stiffness in her lower back. She turned to Derek and said, “Do not mention this to Dad.”

Sarah had no desire to climb again as she managed to straighten herself and walked to the front of the house, where she lay on the grass in the sun for the next hour. She could see the disarray of thin Maisonette boards over the roof and their original cubby house. Finally, she got up and they both cleaned the house, felt proud of the clean home. Even though they did not have much, she felt rich.

Their father came bouncing into the lounge room and said, “Come on, guys, I will show you how to shoot. Derek, hold the rifle here close to your shoulder and look down the barrel of the gun; aim and then pull the trigger.”

On a log just out in the shallow water were eight empty beers.

“Now, Sarah, your turn.”

She felt the gun firm on her shoulder and concentrated on her aim, looking down the barrel, ing what her father had said.

“Now fire!”

Sarah felt the gun go back a bit.

“Now, guys, it is important that you hold the gun properly, otherwise, you will do damage if it kicks back.”

Everyone took turns. By the fifth shot, both Sarah and Derek had mastered their aim, hitting most of the tins.

Stephen jumped with joy, saying, “Well done. Did you find that fun?”

“Yes, it was different,” Sarah said.

“Where did you get the gun, Dad?” Derek asked.

“Harry did not want it anymore! He got a new one and gave it to me. It’s okay for practising your aim.”

The Fire

Sandy was a very pretty lady with long flowing black hair, bright blue eyes, and soft milky skin; she was interested in the pub life. Tim, her husband, was a keen fisherman. He used to go to the pub with them and show of by eating a live fish, head first, with the tails initially flapping from his mouth. The crunching used to make Sarah’s stomach turn. One day, when Tim was out on the water, Sandy came down to the pub with Hank, a man in his mid-fifties. He was very thin, with jet-black hair. He was wearing a striped long-sleeve shirt rolled up to his elbows and highly polished shoes. They both came to the house to see how Jenny was getting on.

Jenny, as usual, was complaining about life, saying, “It is not fair how things worked out.”

Then Hank came into the bedroom, ducking under the light green tablecloth that hung from the roof to act as a door. Sarah sat on the chair opposite, and Sandy sat on the bed.

Jenny pointed to a photo on the old dresser and started, “Look how beautiful I was when I was young.”

The old photo sat above the white dresser in a large frame; it was a lovelylooking lady in sepia tones. She had large brown eyes and soft wavy hair pinned back, wearing a uniform with brass buttons on the shoulder. The thick wooden frame had a massive crack through the glass, from one end to another.

Hank just remarked, “Jenny, with you in that frame, no wonder there is a crack in it.”

He teased her with every comment.

“The years have ed quickly,” she said.

Hank replied, “In your case, many, many years.”

Sandy and Sarah were laughing so much. Sarah felt her sides start to split with pain.

Hank then told Sandy to get off the bed; he picked the bed up and said, “Jenny, I am going to throw you in the river and sing Hallelujah.”

Jenny cupped her hands and begged him, “Oh Hank, don’t throw me in the water.”

She would roll his sleeves down, and Hank would roll them back up again; this went on for a while. Hank had two bottles of cheap sherry, which he started swigging.

Jenny asked Hank, “Can I have some sherry?”

“No, you cannot.”

She had some assorted cream biscuits, which she slobbered all over the sheets and then rolled her big lips, to Hank’s disgust. Then she needed to empty her small bag on her side, so Hank went out of the room. Jenny dropped some shit on the floor, and when Hank returned back into the room, Sandy and Sarah yelled at the top of their voices to watch out. He only just stopped himself from treading into it.

Hank turned around and said, “You dirty old woman, you.”

Sarah grabbed some paper and cleaned it up, heaving and feeling huge lumps in her throat, almost sick on the smell.

She hated going to school. Just the thought of facing the torment was too much. It the last day of the week, anyway; she found out Arthur did not go either. He was at his sister Sandy’s place.

Arthur yelled out, “Want to row across the river and see my dad?”

“Yes, that would be great,” she said.

Sarah and Arthur walked down the dusty road through the thin path out across the tarmac road to the side of the bank where Arthur’s rowboat was tied up. Sarah was fourteen and Arthur was twelve. Arthur rowed the wooden boat while Sarah sat in the front. She felt the sand under the boat as it landed on the other

side. They walked down the grassy path to Arthur’s shack. Henry, his father, had fallen asleep with his head on the stove and had burnt his ear. Arthur pulled on his father’s shoulder, steering him away from the stove. He was so drunk, he did not know where he was. He just groaned and rolled around like a wobbly jelly. Sarah and Arthur picked him up and put him to bed and then went back to the boat.

In the distance, they could see some grey smoke. Sarah commented, “Must be the old house where all the murders happened.”

A few weeks before, Sarah was riding her bike and thought she saw someone come at her with a knife. She rode so fast that her feet slipped off the pedals, and she slid off, scraping her knees along the gravel.

Arthur rowed the boat across the river; the smoke was turning from white to grey and getting thicker and darker. Arthur secured the boat onto a tree, and they both ran down Stevens Street. As they turned around the corner, they could see the smoke was coming from Sarah’s house. She felt her heart thump and went numb as they ran as fast as they could. As they ed Peter’s house, Sarah and Arthur could see Jenny on the top step with half her body across the veranda.

She cried, “Help me!”

Her arms were stretched out towards the sky. The walls were well alight and they were starting to sway. Sarah knew they did not have much time. Her father’s old car was next to the house and still had petrol in it. Sarah asked Arthur to grab Jenny’s legs, and she pulled her arms, as they got her away, the walls started to fall. As they got halfway across the green circle of grass, a breeze blew Jenny’s dress over her head, showing her private areas for the world to see. Arthur looked down just as this happened and started to heave at the wrinkly, hairy sight

that stared up at him.

He was still heaving as Jenny said, “I’m so sorry; you are good.”

Arthur ran down to the shop at the bottom of Hastings’s Road. He asked to use the phone, but the shop keeper would not give to him initially, saying, “It would have to be a fire.”

Arthur snatched the phone, saying, “It is a fire.”

As he phoned the fire brigade, Sarah got a few fern tops to put out the small amount of fire coming next to Jenny. Stephen and the fire brigade arrived together. Sarah could feel the warmth of the light and feel the red light flashing as the firemen concentrated on the house.

The ambulance took Jenny away, as she was saying, “You are good and brave children! You saved my life today.”

Sarah looked up at her father as he rubbed his bald head and asked, “What are we going to do, Dad? Where will we live?”

Sarah felt the pain as she watched hopelessly.

She had no shoes, only a pair of pants and a yellow striped summer dress on. The fire roared and crackled, and you could hear loud bangs. Sarah could see

everything going up in flames: the picture of pink heather in Scotland in a large golden frame, the encyclopaedias with gold print, all her mother’s beautiful bone china, her father’s old 78 LPs. The fireman kept concentrating on the house, and then the garage flared up, and then the caravan Stephen was minding for some friends. Twenty minutes later, it was all gone, everything they owned, including all of her mother’s precious jewellery that was given to her by her grandmother, was gone.

Sarah felt desperate; where would they live? The tears followed, and the emptiness, and what penalties would they have to pay for this rented house that was now no more? Peter offered to let Stephen, Derek, and Sarah stay at his place for the night. Hazel dressed Sarah in a cream nightdress, and a handsome young policeman came into the room where Sarah was lying, going through the day’s events in her head.

Sarah quickly pulled the bed clothes up under her chin.

The policeman said firmly, “I need to ask you a few questions, is that okay?”

Sarah nodded.

“When did you get there? Do you know how the fire started?”

He had a soft voice and spoke very calmly. Sarah thought, wouldn’t it be nice if he did not have to go?

“Arthur and I arrived about five o’clock. The house was already alight when we got there, and we just pulled Jenny away from the fire and phoned the fire brigade.”

“That is all for now, Sarah. Thanks.”

The two policemen left to fill out their report and later informed their father that Jenny had fallen asleep with a cigarette, causing the fire. There were burns on the side of her body to indicate this; the news came across that two children had saved this lady’s life.

Sarah was a hero at school and accepted by the other children and teachers, although this only lasted for a few weeks. A few months earlier, she had wondered what would happen if she had saved someone’s life.

The vision had come true, although being a hero was forgotten quickly, and not long afterwards, Sarah found herself to the same disapproval at school, except this time, it was worse, since they had even less. The clothes that were provided were old, which meant the teasing of “Scraggy, good for nothing” and hissing as Sarah went past. She wished she was like other children and like other families. She started to wonder what the future would bring.

Sarah overheard her father talking to Peter, in the early hours of the morning, while the site was still smouldering. Stephen’s friends went and got the boiler and any valuables they could find, selling them and keeping the money. Sarah went to the site the next morning; she could see white smoke coming out of the ruins, the pot on top of Jenny’s bed, the stack of records, and the fridge: nothing but ash and black simmering remains.

The charity organisations arranged for some clothing for them, most of the clothes ended up being bright pink or bright green outfits and a few tops and shorts. Stephen purchased an old caravan, which had no door to it, and placed an old wooden door next to the entrance to get in and out of, because there was always a gap at the top. A ring-tailed possum would visit often, and it became their pet. The possum enjoyed bread and honey with milk and visited frequently. Sarah enjoyed feeding the animal with its small cool wet pink nose. She watched the possum curl its tail around her arm and nuzzle into her. It would stay longer each time and enjoyed being patted, with its soft grey fur under Sarah’s hands. She loved the animal; after sitting beside her, it would disappear into the night air.

Stephen bought another car to use besides his beloved Mercedes: an old fourdoor Holden, with bench seats. The car had round lights at the front and a rounded bonnet with a white roof and sun shield that went across the wind screen.

Hazel and Lynall asked Stephen to lend them his Mercedes, since they needed to go to Sydney. Being a long trip, they needed a comfortable car. He let them have it, but three weeks later, Stephen received a telegram telling him the car could not be fixed. The wheels seized, and the car was a write-off. Stephen did not believe in insurance of any type, which meant the money spent was now gone.

When they returned, Stephen approached them, and Lynall said, “I am so sorry, the car was not much anyway, and we have no money. You cannot possible expect us to pay for the car, can you?”

“You seized a totally perfect car.”

“Nothing you can do, Stephen, not our fault.”

Stephen stood there, dumbfounded, with his shoulders hunched. He turned on the spot and walked out of their home.

News travelled to Sydney. Stephen’s brother-in-law Tom and sister Noreen and his parents had heard the news and came back to Port Macquarie for a short time. Noreen managed to find out where they now lived and booked themselves into the Mid Pacific Hotel in town, where they enjoyed the sea view and the bustling of the streets below.

Sarah was amazed when she heard this squeaky voice she knew well:

“I thought you had all died, we did not know what to think.”

Sarah walked down to the remaining ashes of the home they once lived in. She looked across at her uncle and aunt and grandparents, watching as Nana bit her lip.

“How did you manage to survive?” Nana asked. “Lucky you were not killed outright.”

“We were not home at the time,” Sarah said. “We managed to get Jenny out before the walls collapsed; it was nothing really.”

“Sarah, it was lucky you got home in time, you know, you are the eldest. It is your responsibility to look after your father and brother; after all, your mother is

not here, and you need to fill those shoes.”

Keith Attack

Then came the stormy weather; it rained and rained until Hastings River flooded. The water well and truly broke the banks, and the roads were not visible. They were truly under, and no one could get out or in very easily. The caravan Stephen purchased was in front of a small caravan owned by a man named Keith. At this time, Keith drove his car through the salty water, almost up to the lights, and ruined it. Stephen told him to clean the car out straight away but he just left it.

It was early in the evening when Keith came home after drinking. Sarah was trying to do her homework in the dim kerosene light and was just about finished.

She could hear Keith yelling at the top of his voice: “Sarah, your father owes me a car and should give me one, since my car is no longer in operation.”

Sarah argued back, “My father does not owe you a car; it is your own fault you drove your car into the salt water and did not clean the car. Buy your own.”

As Sarah stepped out of the van, he pushed her into the wall and grabbed both of her hands. He then grabbed a large cement pot and was about to drop onto her head.

At this point, Tim heard them arguing and came out with a rifle in his hand. “Keith, you drop that pot or I’ll shoot,” he said.

Sarah blacked out for several moments and then got free from Keith’s grip. She ran down the road as quick as she could and kept running to Arthur’s place. Panting and out of breath, she held onto Arthur’s shoulder and said, “Keith tried to kill me with a pot. Tim has gun and aimed it at him. He wants my father to replace his car.”

Arthur said, “What do you mean? You can stay here awhile.”

He made a cup of tea, and Sarah stayed for an hour, then he walked her back. The night was silent and there was no trace of anyone, so Sarah slipped quietly into the caravan and went to bed.

Tension Mounts Up

After Hazel and Lynall returned from Sydney, the tension between them and Stephen grew stronger, since they had no intentions of replacing the Benz or paying him any money. They constantly put Peter down and would not budge from his home, overstaying their welcome. With the pressure, Peter was getting thinner and became very remote, gibbering whenever he spoke. He had lost a lot of his confidence and was no longer interested in his hobbies. Hazel told everyone that Sarah was having sex with different men.

Around this time, Tim and Sandy yelled to them to look at what was going on next door at Peter’s. Up the back of the garden was the small house that contained the toilet; there was Hazel and Billy, the biggest thief in town, entwined with one another. They were so engrossed in sexual activity, they did not notice they actually had an audience.

“Well,” Stephen announced, “so who is calling the kettle black now? I wonder how she will get out of this.”

Tim yelled, “Overgrown slut!”

Sarah ran inside and across the hall. She went down the stairs, into the caravan, and put on the little radio. Soon, she was welcomed by the possum, nuzzling for some bread and honey. Derek arrived shortly afterwards, groaning of hunger pains, and Sarah rounded up some food for them.

A few weeks later, Peter became very ill and lost a lot more weight. Sarah and her father went to visit him in Port Macquarie Hospital. He could hardly speak and tried to lift his right hand and arm, but he did not have the energy to do so. There were tubes going all over the place, with beeping machines; once Sarah worked out where all the tubes were going, she started to feel very light-headed, and her body just flopped. Her father grabbed her as her body gave way.

He sat beside her and said, “Sarah, put your head down onto your lap.”

Ten minutes ed, and the doctors came to inform Sarah and her father that Peter had ed away.

Sarah felt the tears drop; she mumbled, “Well, I guess Hazel and Lynall will be happy now, since they have driven him to his grave and took all life out of him.”

“Yes, pet, you are right. Hopefully, they will move out of town, since they will not be able to stay next door now. We better get back, your brother will be home soon.”

As soon as Sarah and Stephen got home, Derek arrived with Arthur and Harold on their bikes. Derek noticed the tears in his sister eyes what has happened.

Stephen said, “Peter is dead.”

“I hope Hazel and Lynall move out of town,” Derek replied.

As far as everyone was aware, Peter had no relatives. The state was going to deal with his belongings. Word got around that Hazel and Lynall moved to Hibbard. Thank goodness, Sarah thought, since they only caused grief and sorrow wherever they went.

On the Move

Stephen got in around seven o’clock. Derek and Sarah were sitting at the table, doing their schoolwork; as he walked in, he was rubbing his chin. He said, “Children, I am afraid we are on the move again.”

Sarah looked puzzled and asked, “Where to?”

“I purchased a caravan.”

The caravan was very small, with a double bed up one end, a small cupboard, a table with bench chairs on both side, and a sink. It was small and round and included an annex, where Derek would sleep. Because there was no way of cutting the grass, Sarah would pull the grass out by hand to keep the caravan tidy. She washed all their clothes by hand; rubbing constantly made her hands crack and bleed. She had to walk up to the showers, which she knew all too well, since these were the grounds that the vacationers used to come to. There was no hot water on-site. In winter, she would try and trick herself that the water was warm so she could not feel the coldness on her skin. She would dress as quickly as she could; one afternoon, some children pinched her clothing, so she had nothing to change into. She had to wrap a towel around herself and walked back to the caravan in the freezing air. The grass was frozen under her feet, and the cold air stung her body. It seemed to take for eternity, as she hurried back to the caravan. She put some other clothes on her frozen body, which was shaking fiercely from the cold. She wrapped a blanket around herself but could not get warm.

She tried to do her schoolwork by kerosene light. Of course, her marks were

getting worse. She just hated facing the school and the torment of everyday life. She went to the school and gave her notice to leave. It just felt so good to walk out of those gates and not return. She felt the pressure go and sprang with every step, waving her arms around and skipping out of the gates, running and jumping with joy.

Stephen came into the van and said, “Sarah, I need help with fencing, you could come and work with me. It would bring in more money.”

The next morning, she ed Stephen, holding the fence s while he hammered in the nails.

“Here, Sarah, you have a go.”

Sarah hit a nail, which flung out of the wood, and the hammer sprang off in a different direction. After a few attempts and failing miserably, she just held the post in place while her father hammered them in. A few months went past, and she was not doing well at her newfound career.

On a hot sunny afternoon, Stephen came bouncing in with joy, saying, “Look, I found a pig carcass.”

A hook appeared above the door, and he hung the pink meat of a pig, surrounded in thick fat. Sarah was woken up by the loud buzzing of the blowflies and the smell of meat.

She rubbed her eyes and looked up at the black mass. She said, “Under no uncertain are we eating such a thing with the blowflies that hanging off it.”

“Sarah, this meat is salted,” her father said.

As soon as he left, Sarah took the meat and threw it off the jetty into the water, clapping her hands and running back to the van.

The smell lingered; she felt herself heave, grabbed the yellow cake of soap, and ran to the toilets to wash her hands. She felt the smell would not leave.

When Stephen returned, he noticed the pig missing and said, “Sarah!”

“No, Dad,” she said, “you are not poisoning us. That thing stink is still lingering. I got rid of it.”

“You what? How could you?”

“Easy, I respect my health, and my brother’s. You go and fetch it from the river and eat it, if you wish.”

Stephen stamped off to the car, muttering under his breath. He slammed his foot on the accelerator as he drove off. Sarah knew this was going to be a pub outing and ignored him totally. She went to bed; it was late when he returned.

The fresh waters came down from Hibbard. This was a sign Sarah got to know well. When the floods arrived again, the banks burst the brown muddy water and flowed across into the camp site; everyone had to move their caravans up as high as they could. The waters this time came up even higher than before, with Hastings River about to come over the edge of its banks at the Mid Pacific Hotel, which would mean most of Port Macquarie would be cut off, and the only means of transport would be boat.

The water was up to the doors; the children played happily in the water, which was up to their knees. You could not see where the road ended and the grassy banks began.

Shortly after, Sarah was introduced to William White. He was six years her senior and pretty good at golf, so she was told. He lived in Wauchope and was constantly in the papers for competitions he had won. Sarah’s friend Trish introduced her to William, and pretty soon they were dating. She loved the smell of his aftershave and enjoyed going to the drive-in. Then William and Sarah introduced his friend Kym to Trish, who got on very well (in fact, they later married).

They had countless dates at the drive-in. You would line up in your car, get a ticket, and park in the middle of a big car park with a loudspeaker on one window. Then all the couples would steam up the windows with their ionate kissing and heavy breathing. Hamburgers, hot dogs, and coke became the regular diet.

The weekend outings would start at Trish’s, where the men would drop the girls off. There were constant trips on the ferry across the river and back. At this stage, the last place Sarah wanted to take William was where she was living, since she felt if he knew the truth, he would not want to see her any more. Sarah

told William about the fire but never talked much about school.

Sarah was so pleased to be with William, who was a tall, dark, and good looking. She spent her savings on a small diamond ring for his birthday, which he wore proudly, and in return, William bought her a necklace with Sarah’s birthstone.

Eventually, Sarah did introduce William to her father when he pulled up in his small reno. Stephen was driving this old Holden with paint spots all over it. The wipers did not work, and the back window would not stay up.

All William could say was, “Sarah, I feel really sorry for your father, with the hard times he is experiencing.”

After he met Stephen, however, he stopped answering her calls. One day, a voice came on the phone and said, “William does not want to see you anymore; do not call again.”

Sarah felt herself fill up with tears and choked as she hung up the phone. She walked back to the caravan, feeling a touch of hate for the position she found herself in. She dropped onto the bed, ing how she could not get a painting right in school, and Billy, who was an artist friend of her father’s, drew a scene in her book. The teacher gave her a failing grade, saying, “Sarah, this is not your work. If it is, draw it on the board again.”

Sarah felt fear and froze, and then she walked back to the desk.

“I thought as much,” the teacher said. “You cannot draw and will never be an artist, look how poor your work is, not up to standard of the other children.”

With the memory of this, she dropped off to sleep, dreaming of the torment at school.

Another day, Merytl caught up with Sarah and mentioned she was going to a major horse event in Wauchope with some older boys. Sarah was introduced to Pete, who was six years older and could drive. She felt so excited about the date. Pete drove a white Datsun and picked everyone up. He pulled up into a car slot just in front of the fence, and everyone put small bets on at the board while the horses went into their pens. The sun was hot, and the excitement rose, with everyone calling out their horse’s names as they ran around the track. To her amazement, Sarah’s horse came in.

“Yes, I won ten dollars!” she said, shaking her tickets in the air.

“Well done,” Pete said, grinning at her.

Derek moaned, “I never win.”

“Don’t worry, Derek, it is a bit of fun.”

After the first few races, it was time to enjoy hot dogs and a large cup of coke. They found a stand to sit at and put their treats next to them while they ate, with the tomato sauce dripping onto the grass below. The bread was soft and hot and

spongy, the tomato overpowering the red sausage. The hours went quickly, and before long, they were on their way back to Port Macquarie town centre, then onto the drive-in to watch the movie Love Story. As the night grew dark, the stars glistened. Sarah sat next to Peter, holding his hand and looking fondly at him as he reached over and kissed her on the cheek. This was the first time she had an actual date; after the movie, they headed back down the Hastings Drive to her small caravan.

Leaving Home for the First Time

Was late Tuesday afternoon, Sarah told Harry, “You know, Harry, I think I might as well leave home.”

Harry responded, “Well, Sarah, I don’t know why you don’t, since your father does not care about you.”

Sarah felt as though a knife had entered her heart. She knew he was telling the truth; her father did not really care at all.

Harry then broke the silence, saying, “I seeing you pull the grass from around the caravan by hand and washing your father’s hankies, with the big blobs of snot and how slimy they looked. All your father did was laugh at you.”

He continued, “The shirts you cleaned by hand, with the brown collars and the sheets, look at your hands. They have become so white. I can see they are cracked and bleeding.”

Sarah looked down at her hands, bringing back memories of how they constantly stung every time she washed the clothes. She knew the comments were true.

The following week, a child welfare officer visited their caravan and told Sarah she could leave home if she could prove she could look after herself.

Merytl lived with her mother, who was simple; she was as unpopular at school as Sarah had been. The next morning, Sarah packed her few belongings and went to live with Merytl. The morning skies were full of heavy rain clouds that pelted onto the surfaces. Stephen insisted on driving her, but the car would not start. Sarah had to push the car so her father could clutch-start it.

Sarah jumped in the middle while her father revved the car so Merytl could get in. Stephen was furious with the fact Sarah was leaving home. His face was bright red with temper, and his bottom lip dropped and shivered. The rain was pelting down heavily, the wipers were not working, and there was cool air blowing on their backs, for the window did not close. Merytl, with her long red hair, sat white-faced with fear. As for Sarah, she could see the funny side and could not stop giggling, which did not make matters any better.

Stephen yelled, “Merytl, look to the left!”

In the corner of the window, a spider had spun a nice fine web. To make matters worse, Stephen had to look out the driver’s side window. The vision was more or less nonexistent, because the rain drops were pelting inside. The front windscreen was just awash of rain. Stephen revved the old green Holden to stop the car from stalling. Thirty-five minutes later, they pulled up outside of Merytl’s mothers rented flat.

Merytl got out the car, white with fear and cursing, “Your bloody father could have got us killed with that death trap.”

Stephen, still red with fury, sped off with a screech of tires, after throwing their bags out onto the pavement.

Sarah just doubled up with laughter. “Well, at least we are here. I just hope that thing does not stall or we will be pushing it further.”

“Sarah, not on your nelly.”

Sarah was about to find out what she had got herself into. When they got inside, Merytl’s mother could only say, “Don’t you know that my nerves are bad? Do you know how bad my nerves are?”

She repeated this over and over again. She was a small woman with grey and black hair. She served herself a cooked meal, as she would call it: baked beans, potatoes, and any tin substance she could get her hands on. Then she would sit at the table for the next six hours, finishing her meal.

Sarah managed to get a job at the Mid Pacific Hotel, which were roughly seven stories high. She had to be at work by six in the morning, so she set the alarm to get to work. However, Merytl’s mother turned the alarm off, which meant she was forty minutes late on the first day, not making a good impression.

Sarah had to make toast in the large toasters, clean the rooms, and make the beds, all within a short time, including getting any chewing gum off the carpets. Then an inspector would come around with white gloves to check the work. Sarah found the breakfast trays heavy, and everything was done at high speed. She learnt how to clean and make beds professionally and to be organised in all that she did.

The head cleaner must have felt sorry for her and said, “I know of a cashier’s job at Woolworth’s Plaza. I will put you in touch with my friend, since this is not the job for you.”

Sarah went to Woolworth’s and got the job. She found herself standing for eight hours a day, and every week, she would revise the special list that changed regularly as customers came through the checkout. There were thirty lines at a time, memorising them was a challenge, which Sarah struggled with. In her mind, she would make funny pictures and the figures. This helped her, since you would be penalised if you got one of the specials wrong. Sarah was well-respected; she worked hard and long hours.

After a while, Merytl and Sarah had to leave, since the tension rose at home. Merytl warned Sarah not to clean her mother’s room, and Sarah soon found out why: She did not throw away her monthly pads and other rubbish and stored them under her bed, which was packed full.

Both Sarah and Merytl were told by the children welfare they could have a place of their own, providing they had guardians.

They then rented a six-foot caravan from the Dossers; he was a Jehovah’s Witness, and Mrs Dosser was a Seventh - day Adventist.

The caravan was at the side of the house. Mr Dosser they gave very strict instructions: “You girls are not allowed to bring any boys home, since they are interested in only one thing. No going out after eight o’clock.”

The rent was $7.50 each per week. Sarah’s wage was $20 per week; she was also

paying for Derek’s school fees, and buying food did not leave much over for clothes or anything else she needed.

The shower area and bathroom were at the back of the home; every now and then, Mr Dosser felt it was his place to give them Bible stories. Merytl and Sarah would blank out and sometimes doze off, while his wife would mutter how she did not understand him. Their children had moved far away as soon as they were old enough.

While Sarah worked at Woolworth’s, she met Steven, who was two years older. He had a sporty black car with bucket seats that he adored. He asked Sarah out to the drive-in to see a love story. The Dossers were away, so this made it easier for Sarah to accept the offer. They arrived at the drive-in at Hibberd on a quiet Friday night. The movie was Charlotte’s Web, cartoon story about a pig and spider. Sarah could only laugh all night about the so-called love story, which did not impress Steven. As he sped off, Sarah spilled her Coke on his precious floor.

“You stupid bitch!” he yelled.

Sarah shrugged, as she knew this would be the end of that love affair.

It was late Friday afternoon when Merytl and Sarah were asked to a party. These two young people had only just wed. Joe was just over four feet tall and was known for being an excellent jockey, winning most of his races. His wife, Suzy, was tall with long wavy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. It was amusing when they held hands and walked down the main street. Still, as the saying goes, we are all the same size in bed, since his wife managed to fall pregnant twelve months later.

The party started at seven, and the wine and beer flowed frequently. Both Merytl and Sarah enjoyed the disco dancing, having a great time. Going home was difficult, since they had to sneak back into the caravan without anyone knowing. A little brown dog yelped as loud as it could at them. Sarah ended up giving it a quick kick, and it yelped off in pain. Then Sarah and Merytl had to go to the toilet, knocking everything possible and making such a clunk. The girls stood still; they were sure they were going to get caught out. Finally, they got inside; Sarah was looking for the key, only to discover Merytl had left it in the door.

After an hour, they got themselves sorted and went to bed well after midnight. The next morning, around seven o’clock, Mr Dosser was at the door for a session on God.

Unknown to Derek and Sarah, the news got back to Springwood. Aunty Sam and her husband, Don, found out those things were pretty bad. It was coming up to winter, and Sarah did not have the money to buy what was needed. Their father was drinking heavily, as usual. Don and Sam made the six-hour journey and took Derek and Sarah to live with them in the Blue Mountains, with their son David (their daughter Pam had already ed the air force and lived on the RAAF base with her husband, Paul).

CHAPTER 4

Sam and Don travelled up to Port Macquarie. When Sarah got to the van, she learned her aunt and uncle were stopping around the corner. Stephen came over, and they all sat down at the table. Don looked into his niece’s exhausted eyes and said, “Sarah, you have done well, but we have come down to pick you both up and take you back with us. I have notified your work, and we can leave tomorrow. I will deal with everything.”

Sarah started to cry and said, “I have not done a good enough job. I tried to earn as much as I could.”

“I know, Sarah, but you and Derek can go to school if you want to.”

Stephen moaned, “You are taking my children from me.”

Don replied, “No, Stephen, things are not working out, and so you can get yourself sorted. I am giving you a break. Let the children have some quality of life; I promised your wife I would look out for them, and I am keeping my promise.”

They left Port Macquarie around eight in the morning and arrived late in the evening. The house was newly built in a suburb, high on a hill, overlooking a valley. The brick house had highly polished floors, a modern kitchen, and three bedrooms. The two boys shared one room, Sarah had the back room, and Don and Sam slept in the main room at the front of the house. There was a double

garage to hold Don’s taxis. It was only five minutes from their grandfather’s place, which meant Sarah could visit him often. Derek was enrolled into Springwood High School and went with their cousin, David. Sarah decided not to go to school as she felt the extra expense was unjustified to her aunty and uncle.

She got a job at the local supermarket. She had to learn the specials every week and the prices as the customers went through the cash . She did not like waiting for the local bus and therefore walked to work, which took about twenty-five minutes.

Aunty Sam had a Burmese cat, Whisker, who cried like a wailing baby. He was a lovely brown and black cat with large green eyes. They would lock him in the laundry at night, which made no difference to Whisker, especially if the key was left in the door. The cat would jump onto the door handle and hit the door until the key would drop and pull the key in with him. Of course, this meant that the key had to be left out of the door. Furthermore, he could open every sliding door and window with ease.

After a while, Sarah left the supermarket and started at Smith’s Shoe Store, selling and fitting shoes. Mrs Smith was a tall, skinny redhead with long, wellkept nails. She reminded Sarah of a manikin and always walked with finesse. Sarah learnt how to measure feet, work the till, greet customers, and clean the shop.

One day, Mrs Smith called Sarah in and said, “Sarah, I need to see you for a minute before you start.”

“Yes?”

“Come this way.”

Sarah followed her into the small office at the back of the shop.

“We have observed you over the past six months and decided your standards are not what we need, therefore, we are letting you go. Here is today’s pay. Good luck.”

Sarah gulped, not knowing what she had done wrong; she turned, gathered her stuff, and left.

Hunters Shoes

Opposite to Smith’s was Hunters Shoe Store. Sarah walked in and asked if there were any positions. She was employed immediately and within a few weeks captured the customers from Smith’s Shoe Store. The Hunters were in their late fifties, both short and stubby and walked with a slow stride. Mrs Hunter was very particular; she insisted on cleaning the front window of the shop every morning, even during the peak times.

She would say, “Sarah, you must do very small circles, like this.”

The morning ritual was followed by the vacuum. With her two fingers, she would delicately pull out the vacuum bag gently.

She told Sarah, “This is how you clean the vacuum.”

The thought would cross Sarah’s mind that this was why the other girls did not stay too long, but she enjoyed learning about fitting shoes, and the job was light duty.

Sarah went about her normal dutie to fit some school shoes. She was wearing a skirt and top and had tugged her skirt into her underpants, without realising. She had walked from the top end of the shop near the entrance door down to the back of the shop. When she felt her dress and realised what she had done, she grew very faint. How could she be so stupid, showing off all of her underwear? She sat down and began to cry.

Mr Hunter asked, “Sarah, are you okay?”

She gathered herself together and said, “Yes, I am fine.”

She managed to obtain her dignity and kept on serving, once she sorted herself out behind one of the shelves in the back of the shop.

Sarah enjoyed her job, and time went quickly. The days went quickly, and the shop was doing well. A lot of people would ask for her, and after measuring the feet and finding the shoes, they were handed to Mr Hunter to cash up. They worked like a tight-knit team; he was short and stocky with black hair and large brown puppy eyes with black glasses. He never said much, while Mrs Hunter would moan about anything she could find; he would just nod his head.

The odd customer would come in and comment, since she often moaned of sickness.

“Mrs Hunter, are you pregnant?”

“Oh, no, too late for me now,” she would say. “Our dogs are our children.”

Sarah just giggled as she went down to fetch another pair of shoes, for they must be close to sixty. Mrs Hunter’s skin was dry and wrinkly. She was a short, plump woman with thin black hair.

Opera

After the long walk home, Sarah would often find her Aunty Sam relaxing and listening to her favourite classical opera records. Sarah would acknowledge herself before going to her room to read.

Sarah heard a loud squeal. Uncle Don had just arrived home from his taxi run, and he rushed through the front door and ran down the corridor to see what had happened. Sarah flew out the bedroom, and they met at the door.

Sarah asked, “What happened?”

Don looked at his wife and asked, “Have you hurt yourself?”

Sam was lying on her bed, enjoying her prized selection of Mozart. She looked up at them, laughing as she rolled to sit up. “I am just enjoying my opera.”

Don turned on his heels and said, “Sounds like a cat in stress or someone dying.”

Sarah and Don walked into the kitchen, laughing together. Sarah said, “Sounded like someone in trouble, that’s music for you.”

David enjoyed Deep Purple and heavy metal, so the place would rock with

different sounds. Derek and David would listen to his record collection and do their homework. Derek was doing well at school and really enjoyed the company of his cousin.

Sarah was not allowed to the boys. She spent a lot of her time learning cross-stitch and knitting with Aunty Sam or reading.

Washing

Was late Friday afternoon, Sarah from work and was looking forward to doing the washing while everyone was away for the day. She opened the washing machine lid and put in a full cup of washing powder.

After a few minutes, she turned around to see the machine exploding with soap. The suds were now a foot high, coming over the machine into the laundry room. Before long, she was also covered in suds. The bubbles started to head for the kitchen.

Sarah panicked and cried, “Oh, no!”

She grabbed the suds with both arms and put them into the deep sink; more and more suds came out. This was getting too much. She opened the back door and pushed some suds onto the grass. After about forty minutes, she managed to get the rest outside.

The door opened, and when Sarah looked up, it was David, her cousin.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She held herself in a dignified manner and said, “What do you think, a bit of washing.”

“What, with all these suds?”

“I put a cup in, then all of a sudden …”

“You idiot,” David said, laughing, “It’s concentrated. You only need a cap full.”

“Oh.”

As the last lot of bubbles sank under the lid, Sarah dumped buckets of water on the suds. They disappeared, and she mopped up the mess as David turned on his heels, laughing as he walked down the hall.

Sarah had just got all under control when Sam and Don came home.

Fainting

Sam had lost a lot of weight and was fainting quite frequently. In fact, she had become very thin and drawn, which was a main concern for her family, who loved her dearly. Don had great iration for his wife, who ed him with all of his work. She ran the house and gave their children a good life.

Sarah felt as if she was a burden, an outsider, since her first priority would be her own children. This was what love was all about; she had to live within the rules and decided to help out where she could.

She was to be in by seven o’clock after work; therefore, she kept herself busy.

She decided to the local club and learnt how to play tennis, practising constantly at the back cage and learning all the strokes. On Saturday afternoons, she enjoyed running around the court.

She also went down to the local swimming pool before heading home to do her knitting. Sarah soon found new friends, newlyweds who lived across from her grandfather. She would call in on the odd afternoon after her sports activities, but sometimes she got back to the house late.

Don made the rules clear, saying, “Under this roof, we obey the rules. Always be in by seven o’clock.”

Sarah learned many different stitches and was becoming very good at all of her needlework, and her reading was improving.

One day, Sarah sat Sam’s feet, doing another stitch she had learnt.

“You know, Sarah, you have seen more than you should.”

She stopped stitching to look at her aunty.

She continued, “Your father took you away from us, and we did not see you for many years.”

Sarah felt she could not share what happened in Port Macquarie, since their lives were very different.

“You know, both my children have done well. I am so proud of them.”

Sarah nodded.

They spent every Saturday and Sunday doing crafts or going to see their grandfather, who would be busy with his crossword and glass of beer. Bluey still swung on his pen and sipped a bit of beer when the glass was full. The bird would slowly become drunk and swing on the end of his pen. Sarah found she was exhausted on the weekends from walking and doing her crafts. After all that, going out was out of the question. She looked forward to the times spent with

her grandfather and enjoyed just being with him.

Sarah thought he was so good looking, and she enjoyed these special moments.

“Sarah, can you fillet a fish?”

“Of course, Pop.”

Steven purchased two large fillets, and Sarah entered the kitchen and started filleting the fish. Somehow, the pieces came out small, since it had been some time since Sarah had filleted a fish.

“Sarah, what have you done? That will not feed one of us, never mind two.”

Steven served a larger portion of chips and peas with salad. They watched television all night, and then Sarah retired to her room.

Test Results for Sam

Sam was now constantly at the doctors. Finally, they came back with the cause: She tested positive for sugar diabetes. It was mild at this stage, which meant she would take tablets for the rest of her life. She had to make sure she kept on a good diet. She never regained any weight and stayed very drawn and thin.

RAAF

After David completed his sixth year at school, he applied for a position in the RAAF. They were based in Richmond, NSW. One day, he came home with a few of his workmates. One of them, George, fancied Sarah. They got on very well, which did not please David at all, one of his friends being interested in his little cousin. It used to annoy him when he was teased by his schoolmates, who would ask if she was his girlfriend.

Sarah was knitting a top; George decided to make a joke of it; he said, “Sarah, let’s go into competition. I will show you how I can knit as well as you, this is how it is done.”

Meanwhile, on Christmas Day 1974, they heard the news that Cyclone Tracy had hit Darwin. Many of the city’s buildings were demolished. George and David were sent to help clean up. George mailed a light blue crochet top to Sarah, with a note: “Beat you on this one.”

He sent another letter to tell Sarah how brilliant the people were and how everyone got involved cleaning out the rubble. The spirit and determination of the people was out of this world; they were going to build a stronger and better Darwin. They were taking bodies out of the ruins of small children and seriously injured people. The whole town had been taken down to rubble.

After a while, Stephen decided to move to Sydney. He called Sam and Don to say he wanted his two children back with him.

Don informed Stephen that Sarah was working hard and had saved a lot of money ($800). “Make sure Sarah and Derek have a place to live, first of all. Also, the money Sarah has saved is hers.”

Stephen replied, “Okay.”

Late one afternoon, Don came in fuming and told Sam and Sarah, “I parked my car in front of this sign, which was covered up. As soon as I left the car, the warden took the cover off and fined me $30.”

This warden was well known in Springwood. No one liked him, and the saying went if you see him, run him over, but don’t reverse, because they will book you for polluting the streets. The case went to court, and luckily, a few people had been caught up. They managed to get the case thrown out since photos were taken to prove their story.

The day came for Sarah to leave Hunters Shoe Store; they all hugged and kissed her.

Mr Hunter shook Sarah’s hand. “Sarah, we will miss you. You have been a great employee. We wish you well and know you will make something of yourself. Here, this is your farewell gift.”

He handed her some champagne and a pair of shoes, along with a letter of reference.

“Thanks for your excellent service.”

Sarah felt the tears as she said, “Thank you. I love you both.”

Stephen drove up to Springwood to collect both Sarah and Derek, and they rode back to Sydney to give it a go in the city.