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Authors: Lucia Masciullo

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BOOK: Ruby of Kettle Farm
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A
T
last they were all sitting around the kitchen table, talking and drinking cup after cup of tea. Baxter jumped up to sit on Dad's lap, and Ruby looked at Uncle James, waiting for him to scold the little dog, but he didn't say a single word.

‘It was sheer luck I found out you'd come looking for me, Ruby,' Dad said. ‘After the river flooded I managed to get a job working on the roads, and it was quite a while before I went back to the camp to see if any of my old mates were still around. When I got your message I chucked in my job immediately. I packed up my stuff, and this morning I hitched a ride on a truck going to Mount Pleasant. All I had to do was walk from there.'

‘So that was why you and May ran away to town that day,' Uncle James said, looking curiously at Ruby. ‘Why didn't you say so?'

‘We couldn't,' Ruby told him. ‘We knew you'd stop us. And it had to be a secret in case we couldn't find Dad after all. We didn't want to get Mother's hopes up.'

‘Frankly, James, if it wasn't for Ruby and May, I wouldn't be here now,' Dad said. ‘They are stars, the two of them.'

‘Absolutely,' said Mum. ‘Bless you both.'

‘You're back home with us, Dad,' Ruby said. ‘And that's all that matters. But I still don't know what really happened – why you went to prison – I mean, what it was you didn't do. And I really want to know. Can you please tell me?'

So Dad explained that thousands of pounds had been taken from his business and put in his personal bank account, and money had then disappeared from that account, and nobody knew where it had gone.

‘That's called embezzlement,' he said. ‘I didn't know what had happened to the money either, but nobody believed me.'

‘Poor Dad.'

‘You should never have gone to prison,' Uncle James said angrily. ‘The police bungled badly, in my opinion. Clowns, the lot of them.'

‘It could have been much worse,' Dad said. ‘I wasn't in prison for very long. They let me go because there wasn't enough real evidence to convict me. I wasn't off the hook, though. I was released on bail, which meant I had to report to a police station every week.' He squeezed Mother's hand. ‘The worst thing for me, Winifred, was that I wasn't getting any more letters from you and Ruby. Don told me – very regretfully, I remember – that you'd decided you couldn't live with the shame of having a jailbird in the family and you wanted nothing more to do with me.'

‘Oh, the beast!' cried Ruby. And Mother said, ‘How could he be so cruel, lying to you like that? Why would he do such a thing?'

‘I've wondered about that since I got your message, Ruby,' Dad said. ‘I can't tell you how much that meant to me, sweetheart. When Don told me you'd given up on me, I hit rock bottom. I told myself that if you wanted to forget me, I'd try to forget you, too. I still don't really know why Don lied to me. I think he simply wanted me out of the picture. He wanted to forget his old life so that he could enjoy his new life, and I was getting in the way.'

‘Why did he come and visit us here, then?' Ruby demanded.

‘Showing off,' sniffed Aunt Flora.

Bee wriggled her chair closer. ‘What happened next, Uncle Harry?'

‘Well, a few weeks ago the police told me that my case was being investigated again,' Dad said. ‘They had a new lead to follow. It was reported in the paper, apparently.'

‘We didn't see it,' Ruby said, ‘but Doris must have. Go on, Dad.'

‘Somebody wrote a letter to the police, suggesting they bring Donald Walker in for questioning. The police contacted me again just before I left Adelaide. It turned out that Don had been taking money from the business for years. He'd been very clever, covering his tracks by putting it into different accounts under false names, including mine. I'd always let Don deal with the money side of the business, and I trusted him completely. I was never more surprised in my life.'

‘
I'm
not surprised,' Ruby said. ‘Not after what Brenda said about him wanting our house. But who could have told the police?'

‘Clearly a person with a regard for justice,' said Aunt Flora, puffing on her pipe, ‘and a degree of affection for your family. And a belief that the Walkers were not what they pretended to be.'

‘Hmm,' said May, looking at her. ‘I wonder who that person was?'

‘We'll probably never know,' said Aunt Flora. ‘By the way, Vera, I owe you threepence for a stamp.'

‘What happens now, Harry?' asked Uncle James. ‘Will Donald Walker go to prison?'

‘Things don't look good for him,' Dad replied. ‘It's funny, but I don't hate him for what he's done. I just feel sad about the whole horrible business.'

‘Me too,' Ruby said. ‘Oh my hat, poor Brenda. It'll be so frightful for her.'

‘I want my name cleared, of course,' Dad said. ‘But the law moves very slowly. And now that I have my family back,' he added with a smile, ‘I need a job, and a home.'

‘Oh, Dad!' Ruby said, suddenly feeling more bubbly than she'd ever felt in her whole life, ‘and Uncle James, and Aunt Flora, and everyone, I've had the most brilliant, smashing, marvellous idea.'

They talked about Ruby's idea over supper. Uncle James was doubtful at first. ‘You're a townie, Harry,' he said, ‘a businessman. What would you know about working on a farm?'

‘Look, James,' Dad said, ‘if our city girl Ruby can turn into a country girl, I think I have every chance of becoming a decent sort of farmer. I was breaking rocks at Yatala. Nothing can be much harder than that.'

‘Fair enough,' said Uncle James. ‘Walter and I can show you the ropes before he goes back to school. The boy is a good worker and he'll be hard to replace, but I'll be glad to have your help.'

‘Thanks, Dad,' said Walter, looking pleased.

Ruby was so delighted that Uncle James had agreed to give Dad a job, and so glad that at last he'd said something nice to Walter, that she left her seat, went straight over to her uncle, and gave him a kiss. ‘You won't be sorry, Uncle James,' she said.

‘All right, all right,' said Uncle James, looking embarrassed. ‘No need to make a song and dance about it.'

‘You'll need somewhere to live,' Aunt Flora told Dad. ‘The Wests will be moving out of the old cottage in a few weeks' time. After that it can be your home – yours and Winifred's and Ruby's – for as long as you want it.' She stopped. ‘Lord above, Winifred, don't cry. It's not a palace I'm offering you.'

‘I know, Aunt Flora,' said Mother, wiping her eyes. ‘It's so much more than that.'

‘If I smile any more,' Ruby said, ‘I think my face will split in half!'

‘The cottage needs a lot of work,' said Uncle James. ‘It needs a new kitchen, and a proper bathroom. Repairs to the roof. And you'll have to plumb in a rainwater tank.'

‘I'm a builder, James,' Dad said. ‘It's a grand little house, and it would be a pleasure to restore it. I've always loved that place. I took a photograph of it, years ago. Don't you have it now, Ruby?'

Suddenly Ruby realised why the cottage had always seemed familiar to her, and it was like light breaking through clouds. ‘D'you mean the cottage in your photograph is
that
cottage?'

‘The very one. I expect you'd only have seen it from the other side – the road side.'

‘So that's why I remembered it,' Ruby said. ‘But in the photo there's a big tree next to it.'

‘That tree had white-ants, and we had to chop it down,' Uncle James said. ‘It did change the look of the place.'

‘How strange that you chose to keep that particular photo, Ruby,' Dad said. ‘Perhaps the cottage was fated to be a part of our lives. And how you are progressing with your own camera, sweetheart? I've often wondered.'

‘I've taken heaps of photos, mostly of people at school. They aren't developed yet, because I ran out of money, but I've got some earlier ones I can show you. One especially.' She went to the bedroom and brought back her prints. ‘This is my favourite, look, this one of Aunt Flora with one of our cats. The cat's name is Gaf.'

Dad looked at the photograph for a long time. ‘It's beautiful,' he said at last. ‘You've got the balance and the light just right. I think we should get this one enlarged and framed, don't you?'

‘And then,' said Mother, who was looking at the photograph too, ‘we could hang it on the wall of our new home as a tribute to Aunt Flora, because we owe her so much.'

‘Quite right, too,' Aunt Flora said. ‘Every house should have its resident witch.'

‘Its resident
good
witch,' said Ruby. ‘And Dad, when we paint the inside of the cottage, let's not paint anything pale green. I really, really hate pale green.'

W
EARING
a torn, patched dress for the first act of
Cinderella
, Ruby peeked around the side of the stage curtain. All the seats in the hall were full of people laughing and talking. She could see Mother and Dad in the front row, and next to them Aunt Flora and Aunt Vera and Uncle James and Walter. Then the hall lights were turned off, and the curtains opened. The break-up concert was about to start.

The Grade Ones filed on to the stage to present the first item, a medley of nursery rhymes.

‘Rock-a-bye, baby,' sang the girls, rocking dolls in their arms. ‘Ride a cock horse,' chanted the boys, galloping their hobby-horses. Jack and Jill marched around the stage with an empty bucket, and Tom the Piper's Son dropped his wooden pig and forgot which way to run. Josie West was Miss Muffet's spider, with eight long black stockings stuffed with newspaper attached to her waist as legs.

‘Well done, Josie!' said Ruby, when Josie had skipped off the stage with the other Grade Ones. ‘You made a smashing spider.'

‘Spiders are ugly, though,' Josie said, in her whispery little voice. ‘I wanted to be a fairy princess.'

‘I don't think there are any princesses in nursery rhymes, are there?'

‘
You're
a princess.'

‘No, I'm not,' Ruby said. ‘I'm dressed in rags, see? I don't turn into a princess until the fairy godmother does her magic spell.'

‘Oh.' Josie stroked Ruby's frilly pink dress, which was hanging up, ready for her to change into it in the second act. ‘It feels like petals,' she said, putting her cheek against it.

In no time at all, Ruby was watching the second-last act, which was the Grade Sixes performing ‘Singin' in the Rain'. Then the curtains closed, and suddenly she realised how nervous she was. Oh my hat, she thought, I'm about to go on stage in front of all those people! And for at least five terrifying seconds she couldn't remember what her first line was.

‘Break a leg,' said May, waving her fairy godmother wand. ‘I don't know why people say that,' she added, ‘but I think it's bad luck to say “good luck”.'

Bob and Clive carried a cardboard fireplace, painted to look like bricks, on to the stage. And then Mr Miller was announcing ‘a two-act play written and performed by our talented Grade Seven girls and boys'.

The curtains swished open again. Ruby, pretending to sweep the floor in front of the cardboard fireplace, was dazzled by the bright stage lights. Beyond them, in the shadows, was the audience. She couldn't see Mother and Dad now, but thinking of them both out there watching her made her so happy she forgot to be nervous.

Cinderella
was a hit. The audience laughed in all the right places, and everyone loved it when Ruby appeared in the second act in her beautiful pink dress. When it was all over, there were three curtain calls. Ruby held hands in the line of her classmates – Bob, Clive, Colin, Iris, Betty, Lorna, Doris, Eric and Cynthia. And May. They all bowed. The applause lasted for ages.

Then the hall lights went on. Ruby just had time to see that Dad was chatting to Mr and Mrs West before she went backstage with the others to change.

‘I'll never wear my Cinderella dress again,' she said to May. ‘But I know someone who should.'

When she was in her ordinary clothes again, she searched through the crowd until she found Josie. ‘This is for you,' she said. ‘It's too big for you now, but one day you'll be able to wear it, and then you can be a real fairy princess.' She pushed the dress into her arms.

Josie gazed at the silky bundle, and her pale face grew pinker and pinker.

‘That's real nice of you, Ruby,' said Mrs West. ‘You're a lucky girl, Josie. What do you say?'

Josie looked up at Ruby with shining eyes. ‘Ta,' she said.

At the prize-giving, special book prizes were given to May, as top senior girl, and Eric, as top senior boy. Bob was awarded the woodwork prize, and Lorna the prize for needlework. All the Grade Sevens who had sat for the Qualifying Certificate exam received their certificates, a handshake and a ‘Well done!' from Mr Miller.

‘You'll get your certificate next year,' Ruby told Cynthia. ‘I know you will.'

‘Maybe,' Cynthia said. ‘When we get to Mount Gambier I'll have to find someone who'll boss me around like you did.' She gave Ruby a hug. ‘I'll miss you.'

‘You could always write to me,' said Ruby.

Cynthia grinned, and this time she didn't cover her mouth as she usually did. ‘I just might.'

A Christmas tree decorated with coloured streamers and tinsel had been put up at the foot of the stage. Next to it, holding a bulging sack, stood Father Christmas in a false white beard. Ruby listened as the children's names were called out, starting with the babies. One by one they went up to receive their presents – puzzles and board games, spinning tops and hairbrushes, bird whistles and bead bracelets. Every Grade Seven girl was given a box of embroidered handkerchiefs, and every Grade Seven boy was given a pocketknife.

Afterwards Ruby, May and Bee joined the rest of the family, and everyone had a rather warm cool drink and a rather melted ice-cream.

‘It's hard to believe we're leaving primary school,' said May. ‘I'll miss it so much.'

‘I'll miss it too,' Ruby said. She was silent for a moment, remembering something her form mistress, Miss Fraser, had said to her at the start of the year.
There is no night so dark that the morning never comes. The sun will always rise. Always.

She licked up the last drop of ice-cream. ‘It's been an awfully strange year, hasn't it, May? Some of it was horrible and some of it was marvellous. But I know that from now on everything is going to be utterly, utterly perfect.'

BOOK: Ruby of Kettle Farm
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