View from the Beach by JH Fletcher

View from the Beach by JH Fletcher

Author:JH Fletcher [JH Fletcher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781743342466
Publisher: Momentum
Published: 2013-11-08T05:00:00+00:00


FIFTEEN

Ruth was on leave, had come to spend it at the home that would never quite be home again.

The fact that she had gone to the war had created a distance between her and her father that time had not healed. They remained friendly; he greeted her whenever she got a weekend pass from the military hospital where she had been posted on her return from Burma; he always made a point of asking about her experiences of the wider world in which they both knew he had no interest. But.

Ruth wished it might have been otherwise but wasted no time on futile regrets. They were as they were. Mutual tolerance was perhaps all they could hope for; it was almost enough.

Back in 1942 Ruth had thought that returning home would bring her peace; had found instead a complacent ignorance that had made her want to scream at people for being so cut off from reality, for claiming to know what they did not.

‘I’ve been there!’ She could have hurled the words into their faces. ‘I know what war is!’

But saw that it was useless and was glad when her period of leave was over.

Her mother wrote once a week, a stiff and awkward letter listing the local news that was all Mary Ballard had to tell her daughter. How old Mrs Millican had lost her ration book and the drama she’d had to get a new one. How Syd Morel and a host of other entertainers had held a concert to raise money for the Memorial Avenue in Kapunda. How the CWA had heard someone called Miss Waddy give a talk about Canada. How Len Doherty had been killed in the fighting north of Australia.

Ruth came home whenever she could, which at the beginning was seldom enough, a lot more frequently as time passed. By the end of 1944 she was able to get away for a day or two almost every month.

The highlight of her visits was meeting up again with Patty Clark. She had taken to Patty from their first meeting when they had stood with their backs to the Institute’s wall and watched as the blokes got stuck into each other about who knew what. Patty had stayed in the district all through the war, giving Ruth’s father a hand at Mindowie. Bob Ballard had been bitterly opposed to having a woman, a stranger at that, work on his farm but had surrendered in the end when he found he had no other choice. Perhaps to the surprise of both, it had worked well.

‘I’ve known worse,’ Bob had confided. Which from him was the ultimate in compliments.

It was an opinion that had strengthened with the passing years. Patty was good with the sheep. Even the unpleasant jobs, the docking and crutching, she handled without a murmur. Good with the horses, too. And with the machinery.

‘At this rate he’ll be leaving you the farm in his will,’ Ruth told her.

Patty laughed. ‘I’ve told Johnno I want to settle down here when the war’s over,’ she confided.



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