Moonlight Plains (16 page)

Moonlight Plains, 1942

Kitty stood on the homestead’s front steps and refused to cry as she watched Ed’s figure growing smaller and smaller.

At one point he turned and waved his hand high over his head and she caught the flash of his smile. A moment later he was gone.

She knew she would never see him again and perhaps her reaction was melodramatic, but she was quite sure she could actually feel her heart breaking.

Fortunately, she was soon distracted by her great-uncle’s return from Charters Towers. He arrived on horseback very soon after Ed left – in fact, he’d actually crossed paths with Ed and so he’d heard the whole story of the crash on his property and Bobby’s death, and he’d already ridden past Bobby’s grave.

‘I offered Captain Langley one of my horses,’ Jim Martin told her. ‘But he said he couldn’t ride. He only knew how to fly.’

Kitty’s mouth twisted as she attempted to smile. ‘He’s from the city. From Boston. He knows nothing about horses.’

‘At least he has a sense of humour.’

Kitty wished she’d seen more of the humorous side of Ed. There hadn’t been much chance for it during their short acquaintance.

‘But will he be all right?’ she asked.

Her great-uncle nodded. ‘He was almost at our neighbours’. They’ve got a truck and petrol and I know they’ll take him into town to phone.’

Apparently, Ed had also sung Kitty’s praises, but that hadn’t stopped her great-uncle from worrying about her.

‘I should never have left you alone,’ he said, over and over, as she poured him a huge mug of strong, sweet tea and assured him for the umpteenth time that she hadn’t come to any harm.

‘I was only scared at first until I knew they were Americans.’

‘But you thought they might have been Japs?’

‘I wasn’t sure.’

‘Oh, Kitty.’

‘And of course, it was just awful when Bobby died.’ Talking about it still hurt. ‘With the creeks up, there was nothing we could do. We felt so helpless.’ She dashed at her tears with a corner of her apron.

Uncle Jim looked grave. ‘War and death go hand in hand, I’m afraid, but that’s for bloody soldiers to deal with, not a young girl like you.’

‘I was never in any danger really.’

‘I can see that, lass, but still . . . alone with strangers . . .’ Worry hovered like a shadowing hawk in her great-uncle’s light-blue eyes.

Kitty guessed the real cause of his concern. ‘The Americans were perfect gentlemen, so you don’t need to worry on that score.’

A faint smile came and went. ‘Well, I’m not going to doubt your word, lass. I certainly don’t want to carry on like that drongo brother of mine.’ He gave an angry shake of his head. ‘Alex should never have sent you out here. What was he thinking, sending a young lass out into the bush in the middle of a war?’

‘He was thinking of you,’ Kitty reminded him. ‘He knew you were here on your own and you needed help with the housework.’

‘Like hell he was thinking of me. His head was full of fire and brimstone and he was gripped by the damn-fool notion that you needed to be protected from the Yanks.’

Kitty was grateful that her great-uncle had never been fully informed about the embarrassing circumstances that had led to her banishment. No doubt her grandfather had been too mortified to share the details of her shameful fall from grace.

Now, Jim shook his head again and rocked back in his chair. Then, to her surprise, he slapped at his thigh and chuckled. ‘I suppose I can laugh about it now. Here you are, supposed to be safe in the back of beyond, like someone out of the Dark Ages, a princess locked in a tower.’ His amusement bubbled over and he let out a great guffaw. ‘And the Yanks turned up on our bloomin’ doorstep anyhow.’

Kitty wished she could laugh. But now that Ed had gone she felt as if she was dangling by a very thin thread. She’d grown up in a dreadful rush during the past two days. She’d learned painful truths about the fragility of life, and she very much feared that she’d fallen in love.

Both experiences had left her with an aching heart.

‘By the way, we have mail,’ Jim announced as he reached a beefy hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out a fistful of envelopes. ‘I collected these while I was in the Towers.’ He frowned as he sorted through the envelopes. ‘There are some here for you.’

‘I hope there’s a letter from Grandma.’ Kitty was dying for news from Townsville.

‘Yes, there’s one here from Nell. And . . .’ Jim glanced at Kitty and raised a bushy white eyebrow. ‘You know anyone in the military? This one here’s been censored.’

Kitty’s eyes flew to the envelopes he handed her. She didn’t recognise the handwriting, but she supposed it might be from Andy Mathieson. He’d promised to write.

The envelope was stamped
Passed by Censor
and there were extra initials scratched beside the stamp.

Curious, she opened it quickly.

Darling Kitty,

I’m sorry I can’t tell you much about what’s been happening to me, or where I am; the unit censor will just cut it all out.

But I can tell you I’m fit (fighting fit, ha ha) and the food, particularly during our intense training, has been pretty good, probably better than you and my family are having at home.

I told you I would write and I would love to get letters from you as well. Please don’t worry if my letters are few and far between. I think of you all the time, Kitty. I carry a photo of you in my top pocket. It’s a group photo taken at that picnic down on the Strand last winter. We’re sitting next to each other and you’re smiling and happy and you look so beautiful.

I’m glad I’ve known you for such a long time. It means I have so many memories of you to carry in my heart. Can you guess one of the standout memories for me? You’re going to laugh.

It was the day we rode our bikes out to the Town Common and I showed you how to trap nutmeg finches. You were intrigued by the whole process, but when you realised I planned to keep the birds you were so angry you tried to hit me. Do you remember how you begged me to set them free?

I knew then that I could never deliberately upset you, Kitty.

Don’t expect me home on leave for some time, but as soon as I get back I’m going to have a serious talk with your grandfather. I hope he hasn’t been too rough on you, Kitty. I should have made sure he understood before I left.

In the meantime,

I send you all my love,

Andy

‘I hope it’s not bad news.’ Her great-uncle was watching her through narrowed eyes.

‘Um . . . no, not at all. It’s just from a fellow who lives near us in Townsville. In the next street. An old school friend. He – he signed up just before I left.’

But Kitty was struggling to hide her dismay. During her recent encounter with Ed she’d almost forgotten about Andy. Even though her time with Ed had been so brief, he’d distracted her completely.

Filled your head with nonsense, her grandmother would probably say.

She’d certainly been awakened to entirely new possibilities. Or perhaps she’d been starstruck.

Whatever happened, he’s gone. I’ll have to forget him now.

Was that possible?

Hastily, she slipped Andy’s note into its envelope and turned her attention to the next letter, which, she was relieved to see, was addressed in her grandmother’s beautiful script. She’d missed her grandparents, despite their strict ways. She’d especially missed her grandmother, and she knew her grandmother would be missing her.

Just as Kitty had hoped, this letter was crowded with news about Townsville and the impact of the war.

You wouldn’t recognise this sleepy town now,
her grandmother wrote.
There are tents everywhere, out along the old stock route to the north where there used to be nothing but chinee apple and straggly bush, and all these flash new aircraft runways.

‘Goodness,’ Kitty said, as she read a little further. ‘Grandma and Grandfather have been evacuated.’

‘Really?’ Jim was frowning. ‘Where to?’

‘Hermit Park.’ It was a suburb on the other side of town. ‘Apparently, they’re evacuating all the elderly people from North Ward and South Townsville.’

‘Those suburbs are probably too exposed, too close to the sea.’

‘Yes, I suppose so. Now Grandma and Grandfather are living in a house with a family of four. They’re called the Robinsons.’

‘Could be a bit crowded.’

‘Yes, it probably is.’ Kitty gave a rueful smile. ‘I hope Grandfather doesn’t try to organise the Robinsons too much. He can be rather bossy.’

‘And how.’

‘Grandma says Mr Robinson works for the railway.’ Kitty read the next part of the letter aloud. ‘
Mr Robinson is very efficient and organised. He keeps a bucket of sand and a spade at both the front and back door, ready to put out incendiary bombs. Meanwhile, I’ve been helping Mrs Robinson to make sugarbag poultices. We’ve filled them with sand and we’re supposed to use them like a body shield when we approach a bomb and then throw them on the bomb to extinguish it
.’

Kitty looked up from her letter. ‘Gosh, it all sounds very dangerous, doesn’t it?’

‘Just taking precautions, lass. There’s been no bombing yet and probably won’t be.’

‘
Mr Robinson has also dug an air-raid shelter in the backyard
,’ Kitty read on.
‘It’s big enough to take all six of us at a squash, but it filled up with water during the storms last week, and now we have a problem with mosquitoes. Mr Robinson has also painted the ends of all the garden beds white, so we don’t trip over them during the blackouts.
’

She shot her great-uncle a smile. ‘I think Grandfather may have met his match in Mr Robinson. He does sound organised.’

‘Yes.’ Jim was smiling, too. ‘It certainly sounds as if Alex and Nell are in good hands.’

‘That’s nice to know, isn’t it?’ But Kitty couldn’t help feeling left out and useless, stuck here in the bush, away from all the excitement. She longed to be part of the action, especially when her grandmother also reminded her, rather pointedly, that the women were needed for all sorts of work now that the men were away.

Kitty knew that if she’d stayed in Townsville, she would have been doing real war work. Perhaps she should have stood up to her grandfather, but she’d felt too guilty to plead her case eloquently after she’d been caught on the verandah with Andy.

‘Grandma sends you her love,’ she said to Uncle Jim, as she finished the letter. As she folded it again, her thoughts lingered on Townsville, wondering what her friends might be up to.

She was still thinking about this when she opened the third envelope. Idly curious about who else might write to her, she glanced to the bottom of the page. It was from Andy’s
father
.

This was a surprise.

Why would he write? Had her grandfather spoken to him? Would this letter brand her as a scarlet woman?

Fearful now, Kitty scanned the page quickly.

Dear Kitty,

I know Andy was planning to write to you, but I’m afraid our family needs to share some bad news. Our wonderful boy is missing in action.

We are trying to be as brave as he is, Kitty, but it’s very hard on all of us. Andy’s mother asked me to contact you. She’s not up to writing just now.

Things don’t look good, but we are living in high hopes that he will be found alive and well.

The message from the army could only tell us that he is missing, and that’s the only thing we know for sure. His unit was operating somewhere in the islands. A troop barge was sunk by Jap planes and Andy was not among those who were rescued.

We’re grateful that the message just said
Missing in Action
 . . . It did not include
Presumed Killed.

I was in the last war and I’m being honest in holding out hope, but I know you will join us in our prayers for our son to come home to us.

Yours respectfully,

Donald Mathieson

Kitty wasn’t sure how long she sat there, staring at Mr Mathieson’s letter.

Poor Andy
. He’d only just joined up. He couldn’t possibly be dead, surely? She should have been thinking about him more, worrying about him. Tears prickled her eyes and her throat.

‘What is it, lass? Bad news?’

‘My – my friend, the one in the army.’ She lifted up Andy’s envelope with its censored stamp. ‘He’s missing already. Missing in action. The boat he was on was sunk by the Japs.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Her great-uncle frowned. ‘But don’t fret too much, Kitty. People go missing in war, and it’s hard to keep track of everyone. There’s always a chance he’ll turn up.’

‘I hope so.’

But what if the Japs find him first?

She wouldn’t think about that. It was too awful to contemplate.

At least neither her great-uncle nor Andy’s father seemed to be panicking, and they’d both been in the last war, fighting in Europe.

But it was frustrating to sit here in the quiet homestead kitchen, miles and miles away from home, knowing that everyone in Townsville was doing his or her bit for the war effort. Poor Andy might even have given his life.

Kitty knew that if she had to stay here much longer she would be bored. She missed being able to look out of a window and see a neighbour hanging washing on the line, or children building a cubbyhouse, their father arriving home from work.

Uncle Jim was watching her closely. ‘You wish you could go back, don’t you, lass?’

Kitty realised she was still sitting with Mr Mathieson’s letter lying open in her lap. She looked across the kitchen table to where her great-uncle sat, puffing quietly on his pipe. He had the same craggy profile as her grandfather, but his eyes and mouth were gentler than his brother’s. She’d grown rather fond of him over the past few weeks. ‘I’d feel bad about leaving you alone.’

‘Don’t worry about me. I was fine before you came and I’ll be fine after you leave. I’ve always been a bit of a loner.’

‘I must admit, I’d like to finish my Voluntary Aid Detachment training.’ Actually, she’d read in the paper that the Military Board had approved call-up of voluntary aids to work as part of the Army Medical Service.