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Authors: Glenyse Ward

Wandering Girl (9 page)

BOOK: Wandering Girl
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I lay back to let my nerves settle down and to come back to reality with myself. I lay there thinking about what sort of a day I was going to have. I felt real happy that they were going out again. It would give me an opportunity to go down and have a yam with old Bill. I'd get him to come up and have a cup of tea with me. I might even ask him to help me cut some wood, because the thought of all that chopping made me feel weak. I just wished I knew what time her sons were going out. As soon as they left. I'd head straight down to the orchard.

I thought I'd better hurry up and get started on my jobs. Suddenly, I remembered that she wanted breakfast early. Now that I had shaken that horrible nightmare out of my system, I got myself dressed. Thinking, “It's too cold for a shower,” I decided I'd have one later when everyone had left the farm.

I could use her shower room. It was so much nicer and warmer, as her toilet and shower room were in her bedroom. I remembered her powder smelt lovely. I liked the lavender one. I'd put some of that on me after my shower.

As soon as I was dressed I went to my own wash-house and freshened up my face and combed my hair. Back at my room, I just chucked my toiletries on the bed and slammed the door. Then I grabbed the old burner and broom, intending to start down from the orchard and work my way up to the front, then finish off my chores at the shoe rack. I had to polish their shoes and make sure they were spotless before they left for town.

So I made my way down to the bottom end of the driveway and started sweeping up all the leaves and dust. The wind was blowing hard, and I began to get a bit frustrated. I was fighting a losing battle - the more leaves I swept together the more the wind would blow them all over the place.

I thought, “I'll just sweep from side to side. Too bad if the wind blows the leaves back again.” So I hurried up and made a quick job of it. I put the lantern and broom back where they belonged, then went to the shoe rack to start polishing the shoes.

When I finally finished the shoes I didn't feel like going all the way down to the paddock to pick her oranges. So I went into my room and got two out of my fruit bowl, which I had picked from the orchard a week before. They were a bit soft, but she wouldn't know. At least, there'd be a lot of juice in them. In the kitchen, I took a glass from the cabinet and squeezed the week-old oranges.

Um
they were juicy too! I poured the rich juice into the glass and filled it up. I had a taste to see if the juice was sweet. It tasted alright to me, so I tidied my mess up, put a clean doyley over the glass, then set about getting breakfast.

When I put the bacon and eggs on I didn't forget myself. If she told me off I'd just say that I was making some for her sons too, playing dumb to the fact that she had already explained to me about the boys - besides, I couldn't help the way I was, just a shadow in this mansion. I went into the dining room to set the table up and make sure everything was laid out correctly, then went back into the kitchen. I glanced at the clock. It was about ten minutes to seven. I put the kettle on.

She called out to me from the dining room that she and Mr Bigelow were ready for their breakfast, but as I was setting up the trolley, she came in to drink her orange juice. The perfume she had on her was very strong, a sickly sort of smell. I caught a good whiff of it as she passed me. Her rouge and makeup always fascinated me. She often looked like she was ready for the circus.

I was just about to take the trolley in when she sort of tugged at the sleeve of my dress and told me that she'd wheel it in. She moved me out of the way abruptly and told me to bring in the bacon, eggs and toast when she rang the bell. “Don't worry about making coffee. Just put the boiling water in a jug and bring it in with you when I am ready for the main breakfast.”

She went into the dining room with the trolley and shut the door behind her, leaving me standing there empty-handed. I thought that I'd better have my cereal, so I got my old tin plate out, filled it up with weeties, poured milk and sugar over them, then began. She rang the bell.

I dropped the spoon, quickly hopped up, got the plates of bacon and eggs, took them into the dining room, placed them on their individual places, then stood back to see if there was anything else she wanted before I went back into the kitchen.

As I stood there I got a fit of the sniffles and took out my old rag, which I had tucked in my sleeve jumper, and blew into it in a most profound manner, making the most peculiar noise.

She stood up in a very angry mood and told me to leave the room at once. What I had done was very rude - to blow my nose in front of decent citizens like her and her husband. If I happened to do it again she was going to report me to the priest at the mission. This was one thing she would not tolerate, especially from her servant. I shook as I made my way out to the kitchen.

Every time she scolded me I felt like I was dirt; but as I explained before, I sort of overlooked the situation. I could see the funny side of things. I was a person that nothing could ever get down for long. I was a happy go lucky girl!

Sometimes when she scolded me, I thought she was quite comical, but I never dared laugh in front of her. It was always the back of her, or when she was out of my sight.

Even when the nuns scolded me at the mission, I could always see the funny side, especially when my mates were around me. We used to think it was a big joke to be slapped and told off. I mean we wouldn't laugh straight away, but only afterwards when we caught up with one another in the dining room or kitchen. We'd look at one another, and that was it! We'd have a good old laugh.

How I wished my mates were with me. Next time I went to town, I'd get some writing paper and write some letters. It seemed ages since I'd heard from anyone. My only contact with the mission had been about two weeks previously, when she mentioned that the priest from the mission wrote to ask her how I was progressing. “Great news,” I thought. I could imagine the reply back from her, probably a real thriller!

Suddenly, I heard her yoohooing out for me. I put my thoughts to one side, and ran into the dining room to see what she wanted.

Over the months that I had been here, through her manner of expectation and through fear of being scolded, I had developed a habit of running whenever she needed me. So I ran in to see what she wanted.

She just told me she was on her way out and my last instructions were not to touch the phone, and also her bedroom needed doing. She told me I was to cook tea for them and have everything ready for them when they pulled up. She told me where I would find a leg of silverside. I was to boil that up and they would have it with cauliflower, pumpkin and mashed potatoes.

So off she went with Mr Bigelow to her car. I waited back in the dining room till I saw the car go down the driveway and head in the direction of town. I thought to myself that I'd clear all the dishes away and make sure the dining room was tidy and clean for her sons.

I wished they would hurry up and have their breakfast and go, as I felt uncomfortable knowing that they were around. I couldn't relax. I wanted to eat my bacon and eggs in peace, have my shower and then escape down to the orchard.

THE SHOWER

I thought I'd carry on with my usual domestic chores. I wouldn't eat anything till the sons went, and then they wouldn't be able to pimp on me - not that I knew they would, but I couldn't be sure.

So I plodded on working, and when all the silver and brassware were polished, I got stuck into cleaning out the fireplace. They had not had a fire alight the previous night but my job was to make sure it was clean, waxed and polished inside and all around.

When that was completed and all the dining room was spick and span, smelling clean and fresh with the aroma of wax and the flowers freshly picked from her garden, I closed the doors and went into the kitchen. The time was nine o'clock. Gee, I wished those boys would hurry up because I wanted to start on the bedrooms as time was getting on.

I thought that I'd get on with their parents' bedroom, then at least it would be all nice and clean when I was ready for my shower. So I went up the passage till I reached her bedroom. I thought that I'd bide my time and just sort of linger on there for a while till the boys were up, because everything else was done.

I made a few trips purposely to the laundry with sheets and towels but only to check if they were up, as I had to walk past their rooms on the way out to the laundry. Every now and then a couple of doors would bang, and I'd run up the passage quick-way, just in case they came out. I was making sure I was seen working hard.

Still no sign of the boys, so I opened the back door of her bedroom which led me out into what she called
The Lay-out Room
. It was more like a verandah, only it was all closed in with flywire. There were pot plants set around the room to make it like outdoors. The green foliage look was quite artistic. There was no carpet on the floor, as it was not needed, the boards being all waxed and polished. There were old wicker chairs all round the room and a couple of rockers were placed in comers at the far end.

In the middle of this room was a sewing machine. She used to explain to me that this was where she spent most of her time when her four kids were little. As I gazed towards the sewing machine, I tried to picture her sitting there sewing but it was hard to imagine. All I could see was someone like me hard at it on the pedal, going flat out with piles of sewing and mending to do!

I didn't mind cleaning this room. It reminded me of a museum, as all the furniture and articles were ancient or obsolete. I loved rummaging through the cupboards looking at her odds and ends and old lace dresses, which belonged to her grandmother. I used to put some of the dresses on, and picture myself in some far-off land living in a castle. I would get really carried away in my thoughts when I came into that room.

Finally I dragged myself away, wandered back through her bedroom door and out into the passage, when I heard some movement in the kitchen. I thought, “Oh, that's good, the two boys must be up.” I heard them talking in the kitchen and went in thinking I'd better get their breakfast ready.

As soon as I opened up the kitchen door I smelt bacon and eggs cooking. They saw me and told me that they were getting their own breakfast and not to worry about dinner for them, as they would not be back till very late. They would see their parents in town and let them know.

I shut the door behind me and left them to it, feeling pleased that I didn't have to get their breakfast. I didn't fancy pottering around in their presence. I would have felt very shame if I'd done something silly like dropping the teapot or spilling the sugar pot, which no doubt I would have, as I wouldn't be able to concentrate with them hanging around looking at everything I did.

By the time they had finished eating, I had both of their rooms clean, so while they were getting ready for town, I went outside to hand water the front gardens. From there I would see them drive off down the road and towards town. I didn't have to wait long. I heard their car start up then reverse out of the garage.

I was all alone again. Off I went to the cleaning cupboard. Out with the tin of Bon Ami and the scrubbing brush - to go and do the job I had saved up. I used to hate scrubbing her shower recess because every line between the tiles had to be scoured and polished!

BOOK: Wandering Girl
7.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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