Season of Hate (16 page)

One day after school, I was just about out our gate and on the way to see if Johnny was home from work, when Miss Kitty called me over to the side fence. Her face was fully made up.

"Pat, do you think you could do me a favour?"

"Sure, what is it?" She drew a deep breath.

"I've got some shopping I –"

"No worries. Give us the money and I'll get it for –"

"No. I want to get it. Will you come with me? I'm a bit nervous." Her eyes searched my face.

"Sure." I took her basket and we strolled slowly up the street. Everyone we met on the way who had known her long ago was surprised at first, but said how good it was to see her about again. She took in the smallest details of the scenery as we went. Kells' Butchery was first, with a half a pound of blade steak, followed by the Green's for some milk and groceries. The reward for my companionship was a penny's worth of broken biscuits. Mr Green allowed me to serve myself from the broken biscuit tin at the end of the wall of rectangular biscuit tins stacked on their sides. I got as many different types as I knew the penny would stretch. Meanwhile, Miss Kitty had handed him her list of items. Mr Green bunged it on a bit heavy though, even more than normal for Miss Kitty as he set about filling her order.

"A proper lady like yourself is a welcome sight in this establishment Miss Walshe. You've no idea the likes of them that tries to come through them doors. I like to think I'm a Christian man, but I draw the line at vagrants and them that just wanna nick stuff when yer back's turned."

"That's terrible. How's Mrs Green?"

"She's well." But Mr Green had something on his mind and Miss Kitty was gonna hear it, whether she liked it or not.

"This town Miss Walshe is goin' to rack an' ruin. Rack an' ruin. Good Christian folk like you and I are going the way of the dinosaur. You're lucky you've been holed up in that house of yours all them years. The changes I've seen. Why just this morning mind, I'm going out the front to bring in the milk delivery, an' here's these two skinny piccaninnies, boy and a girl, couldn't be more than five or six, finishing off a pint each! Can you believe it?"

"Mr Green – " she tried to interrupt, as he just continued to rattle on over her.

"As brazen as all get out, laughing to themselves as they did it. I grabbed me broom and managed to sneak up on 'em from behind and give the girl a good crack on the head with the handle before they could run away – "

"Mr Green."

"Warned them that if I catch 'em at it again, they'd go to gaol. Two smashed bottles I had to clean up mind, but they'll think twice before doing that again. Then there's that whole mob of 'em been moved into the old Hudson place. All done out by the Government – fresh paint an' all. We're stuck with the bloody lot of 'em. Anything else I can help you with while you're here?"

"No. Thank you."

"I'll just put that on your sister's account then shall I?" he finished, smiling.

"No, I'll pay for it now." She hadn't flinched throughout his speech, just let him go on, as he tallied the purchases. "And I'll finalise our account as well," she added calmly.

"End of the month'll be fine."

"I'll pay it now. You see, my sister and I won't be shopping here any longer."

"Selling up?"

"No."

"But … Have I done anything to offend you?" Miss Kitty remained unruffled.

"Mr Green, it's people like you, with your mean-spirited, bigoted outlook, that offend all mankind."

He was dumbstruck. I couldn't believe it either. His jaw dropped open and a sheen of perspiration broke out on his bald head. She calmly took the account from him, checked its accuracy then paid it. As she did so, her voice rose in volume.

"Did it
ever
occur to you that your milk might have been the
only
nourishment they've had? That they were
forced
to steal, to survive? And you call yourself a Christian. You could have
killed
that little girl. Here, that's for their two bottles of milk!" She slammed the extra coins on the counter. I just picked up her basket from the counter and followed as she headed out the door, thumping her heels into the wooden floor as she went.

Miss Kitty muttered to herself most of the way home.

"Don't go gettin' yerself all upset Miss Kitty. He's always steamed up over something."

"The sanctimonious little twirp. Like to see how
he'd
feel if the shoe was on the other foot. Whew. Come on, I think we both could do with a cuppa, eh Pat?" She smiled down at me as she took the basket from my hands.

"You should be runnin' for Council, Miss Kitty."

"Me? Too honest. I'd have 'em all booted out." She let out a hearty laugh. I think she enjoyed telling Mr Green off.

We had our cup of tea and some of the broken biscuits, on the front verandah. We talked about the weather and school, then she gave me the news that a relatively new John Wayne picture was coming to town in a few weeks. She'd read in
The Echo
that it was only a couple of years old.

"
The Searchers
. Didn't say what it was about. Probably a western. I used to love them the most as a child. Do you like westerns?"

"Sure do. I'll remind Dad." I waited then asked what was on my mind, "Nan says neither of you two've been married and..." I stopped, thinking it was none of my business.

"And?"

"And Dad says people just looked at that mark on your face and never bothered to get to know you. That's not nice."

"Your dad's almost right." She placed her cup down on the saucer, letting her thoughts flow back to the past. "When I was young, I was good at riding horses – as good as any boy. Won sashes and everything. I wore the makeup to hide my shame, so it didn't matter as much. There was one boy, not from 'round these parts. His name was Kevin. Tall and handsome with the sweetest smile, bit like yours. We met at a gymkhana. His horse was a brumby he'd broken in himself. From the very moment I saw him, I liked him. He was different. No sly jokes about my appearance behind his hand, like the others. For him I didn't have to wear the mask. He loved me for me. And we fell madly in love. I was seventeen. We'd meet in secret and go riding, or swimming in the creek together. But nowhere where anyone would see us."

"Why?"

"Father wouldn't have approved. One day, someone must have seen us together and told Father. No matter how much I swore my love for Kevin, it didn't matter. I was locked in my room while Father and some other men went out to find him. The very first chance I got, I snuck out of the house after they'd all gone to bed and rode off to be with him." As she stared into middle distance, her eyes slowly began to fill with tears.

"Funny. I've never talked about this to anyone except Biddy, before today."

"Did you find him?"

"What? No. No, I learnt from his friends at his camp that he'd been beaten, then put on his horse and told never to show his face 'round here again or they'd kill him. I never saw him again. I don't blame him. He was only seventeen himself. And scared I guess."

"I don't understand. Why didn't you take him to meet your parents? Let them get to know him. Then they might have let you get married." She blew her nose then took a long sip of her lemon tea.

"There was no way that was going to happen. You see Kevin was an Aborigine – a full blood like Johnny. And like today, white folks just didn't want anything to do with them, let alone let their daughter marry one. We talked about eloping once. I was going to climb down that lattice and he'd be there at the bottom with his horse and we'd ride off together." She fell silent. I sat there for a bit, picking at the icing on a broken iced vovo biscuit.

"What
did
you say to your dad?"

"I didn't argue. In those days, you obeyed, or else copped a beating yourself. But we didn't speak that much after that. I stayed home more and more until I just didn't want to face the world. I became known as Poor Kitty, like the 'poor' was a part of my name. Visitors to the house would whisper thinking I couldn't hear. 'How's Poor Kitty?' they'd ask. It wasn't long after that Mother became bedridden, then later Father. So it was easy for me to be the one to stay home and look after them and run the house. Years past and now I'd hear tradesmen inquire of our housekeeper, 'How's Poor
Miss
Kitty?' I had become an old …" she paused. "But don't pity me. I've had a good life, of sorts. I'm not sad or anything. I'm not. Really. Biddy's right. I talk too much."

"Nan says it's good getting things off yer chest, 'stead of bottling it all up inside." She gave me a warm smile.

"Biddy was the lucky one. She got away. Became a governess on a cattle farm for a while and nearly got married …" She pulled herself up. "But that's her story. And I have no right to tell it." I didn't know what to say. I just sat there nibbling evenly around all the edges of my biscuit.

"How long have ya been playin' the piano?" I finally came out with.

"Since I was eight. Why?"

"I like the sound."

"Would you like me to teach you?" I thought it over for a bit, wondering what the other guys would say, but we'd all played recorders at school and everyone had to be in the school choir as well, so …

"Yes please." Over many months I'd learn all the scales and could play
Chopsticks
and
Heart and Soul
with two hands. Some days I just liked to sit there and watch and listen, sometimes with Miss Bridget. Miss Kitty would play tunes like
Clair de Lune
and sang along as well to
Someone to Watch Over Me
.

Feeling awkward, because I'd run out of things to say, I saw Dad's car coming up the road and used that as my excuse to leave. I felt bad I made her tell me all her secrets, but it seemed at the same time, she felt relieved by talking about it. I stood up.

"Thank you for the biscuits and the afternoon tea."

"Take the rest of them home for Doug." I scooped up the remaining pieces from the plate. "You let me know when you want to start learning the piano."

"Next Sund'y, after church?"

"That'll be fine."

"Anytime you need shopping done I'm happy to carry the basket. But don't let people like Mr Green put you off getting out. And you don't have to buy me biscuits or nothin'. I'm happy to do it for free, 'cause I like you. If you want, you could come to the pictures with us. If you want. Bye." And I hurtled down the steps to meet Dad.

They didn't see me, but I saw Dad put his bag and a dead rabbit on the roof of the car before giving Susan a kiss on the lips as he took her hands in his. She pulled away a bit, but with a look to show she liked him doing it. I went through the hole in the fence, around the back of the house past the water tanks and through the back door so that they wouldn't see me.

Over our tea of rabbit casserole I mentioned what happened at Mr Green's and what Miss Kitty revealed about herself. As I told them though, I felt guilty at revealing her confidences, but I couldn't help myself. Looking back, I can see that my betrayal of sorts was brought about by my youth and inexperience. It's hard for a boy of ten to keep such things bottled up inside. I hoped she didn't mind. As I got older, I learned to respect the trust people had placed in me to not reveal their confidences. They would tell me things they wouldn't even tell their priest. Nan said that's because I listened and let people get things off their chests. It meant that they trusted me. "What you've got is good listenin' ears – like yer father. It's a gift from God," she'd say.

"Such a shame though," Nan summed up about Miss Kitty at the time. "A lovelier person you wouldn't meet. And as for that weasel Green, we'll do our shopping in town as well in future." And from then on, we did.

"He kissed her on the lips – honest," I whispered to Doug in bed that night. He looked at me like he didn't believe me. "May I drop down dead here and now if I'm lyin'. It was like a peck, right on the lips. Have you ever seen Dad kiss anyone on the lips? I haven't. And he held both her hands in his. And that ain't the way you take a pulse."

"So?"