Chapter 6
Transition Period
In August 1960 the dream for Ted and Rene to move into a new home and be
given the opportunity to take control of fiscal responsibilities finally became
a reality. Suitcases were packed to the brim with clothes and all things
mounting to their worldly possessions, whatever they could not squeeze in was
bundled and crammed into the boot, those items too big or unable to fit were
strapped to the roof racks or thrown out. Following the loading of the vehicle
was an even harder task; withstanding the emotional upset resulting from
announcing solemn goodbyes to friends. Those they knew well and many others,
even complete strangers, clustered together to wave farewell.
On departure the weather turned nasty. It was not sympathetic to their
relocation and quickly signalled a significant change compared to the holiday
in the summer months. An introduction to the strong windy chill of winter
affected the steering of the car as each quick sharp burst of blustery weather
blew it from one side of the road to the other. The trees bent erratically with
each gust and snapped back and beyond perpendicular and back again; it was
ferocious. To make worse the conditions the rain amalgamated with the wind in
attempt of devastation. Rene could not help airing her irritation, in a whining
account she made similarities to the first couple of months of arrival in Australia;
“Oh God! I don’t think I
could go through months of woeful bloody shitty weather again. We should have
went back home to England when we had
the chance.” In a brief moment of discouragement she expected a blast in the
form of reply from Ted, but he looked straight ahead, his eyes glued to the
road, probably thinking to his self it was better for silence to be the prudent
part of wisdom and safer to reserve his thoughts rather than vent them. After
all, words in attempt to console may have resulted in her petulance reliving
the past and giving him a barrage of antagonistic scepticism. His calm proved
correct. The storm swiftly reached its zenith and cleared to overcast as
quickly as it came. Rene was not one to hold grudges and got over things as
quickly as she got into them, therefore the matter gradually ceased to be the
cause of controversy, assuring the rest of the trip was pleasant; their
destination now lay within a few miles.
On arrival Pollie and Ernie prepared living quarters in their caravan
and made available the house for the new proprietors. Ted and Rene moved into
the main bedroom, Tim and Don bunked in single beds in another room and Zoe had
a room to herself. The space in the house was a stark contrast to the cramped
conditions they were accustomed to back on the ‘Hostel’. Pollie and Ernie
stayed only a few days to educate the Scotsdon’s in the routine of operations;
ordering stock, petrol tanker deliveries, cooking recipes and ground
maintenance. The accounts needing documentation and balancing were very basic
and only required a simple cash in and cash out statement scribed into a plain
textbook to make comprehensible the relevant transactions of each day. Ted and
Rene quickly learnt the simple tasks. As for the running of the business, early
mornings Ernie wandered down to give further instructions and indoctrinate
important processes as they familiarized themselves with each procedure; they
were taught the fundamentals and assured the rest was easy and would come
naturally.
The morning air was redolent with the unforgettable aroma of a boiling
‘billy’ and toast crisping over the ‘primus’ outside of the caravan annex, it
would drift effortlessly with the breeze over the acreage and in through Don’s
bedroom window. It was a welcome smell which never left his sense of retrieval,
and in adulthood when he got a whiff of similar smells he associated the
flavours with nice people, caravans and travel; it offered a sense of freedom
and to a point alleviated his diverse and future vexations. The weather, still
cold and overcast, took heart and cleared proper for Pollie and Ernie to say
cheerio. It was a sombre time for Don because they were the sort of people
everyone would like to have for a grandparents; a part of family familiarity
omitted from his life due to the move from
England. While they were still chatting to his family he was playing in the
surrounds, finding all the unusual scattered around the property, things such
as old ploughs and rusted cars. Searching he could not help but listen and
absorb the array of unusual noises in the bush, especially the birds with such
diversity in colour and song They would make all types of sounds, from
beautiful chirps and distinct trills to high and low pitch whistles while
playfully bouncing around the brilliant fauna and flora. It was like nothing he
ever experienced before and learnt to appreciate the creations evolution
benignly bestowed upon this region. Blithely basking in the wonder and charm
its natives offered his dad’s shout interrupted his explorations;
“Don! Where are you? Come
here, Pollie and Ernie are going.”
“Coming,” he replied running
through the near knee high paspalum. Ted called again when he sighted Don in
the clearing;
“Hurry! Come and say goodbye
to Pollie and Ernie,” Don was puffing from such effort but as he got closer he
sprinted faster into open arms and receive a secure hug from both. Pollie
directed advice to him;
“You be a good boy when we
go. Eat all your vegetables and you will grow strong and wise; won’t you?”
“Yes aunt Pollie,” he
replied with tears rolling down his cheek.
“Don’t cry,” said Ernie.
“We’ll be back to see you soon.” Don hugged them even harder, not wanting to
relinquish his grip.
“Okay we’re off now, and,
oh, Ted, don’t forget to cut the grass to keep the snakes away; – goodbye young
fellow; see you all later,” said Ernie. As they got in the car and slammed the
door shut Rene gave Ted her patented contentious look which usually meant a
strong discrepancy or a point of dispute was to follow. She exclaimed in a
somewhat uneasy manner regarding Ernie’s conjecture;
“Snakes! This close to the
house?”
“Good luck,” they shouted,
waving vigorously from open windows as they drove south with their caravan in
tow.
The family stood in one spot near the petrol pumps and watched as they
turned the bend and drove out of view. Everything was so quiet, no traffic, no
wind, even the wildlife took a siesta.
Slightly bewildered Don’s parent’s turned slowly, scanned the property in a
hundred and eighty degree contemplation, pausing briefly to glance at the old
shop with some perplexity in expression; who knows what thoughts were running
through their minds? Ted’s eyes flinched as he gazed at Rene and said;
“I’d better cut the grass.”
His light hearted buffoonery caused them all to laugh and head towards the shop
to begin anew the order of business life. The short time the Scotsdon’s were in
the presence of such honourable people as Pollie and Ernie, they learnt to
really appreciate their companionship and the way they managed to charm
everyone with their musing planning, honesty and understanding. It was a great
pleasure to meet people so genuine and of real bush character, but sadly they
never heard from them again, not even a postcard or letter, or from any word of
mouth in passing. The Scotsdon’s had no forwarding address or any link to members
of their family. They had no idea if Pollie and Ernie just disappeared into the
sunset, enjoying life to its fullest, or simply died in their travels.
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