My Place (44 page)

I felt different after coming back from Cottesloe in the new year. Even Miss Moore treated me as an older girl now. I was allowed to stay up for an extra half an hour after the little ones had gone to bed. Miss Moore let me read some of her magazines and she'd bring in her wireless and we'd listen to the news.

When I went out to bed, I'd tuck little Faye in, it was a habit I'd gotten into over the years. I felt really sorry for the little ones at George Turner I had never forgotten how sad I'd been when I left Babyland. They often needed comforting at night. They'd turn their faces into the pillow and cry, because they knew if Miss Moore heard them, she'd give them a smack. She hated being disturbed at night.

I couldn't stand it if they cried too long, I'd take them into bed
with me. Sometimes when they cried, they wet their beds, they were terrified of getting into trouble about it. I'd get up and change their beds and hide their wet sheets and pyjamas in the bottom of the laundry basket. They always wanted me to be their mother. I felt guilty because, sometimes, I used to get sick of them. They wanted to be babies all the time, but they didn't realise that I was only a kid too.

One of my favourite jobs now was going over to Babyland and looking after the little ones. My friend Pat had a little sister there. There were four kids from her family at Parkerville and the terrible thing was they were all put in different houses.

Pat's baby sister thought I was her mother. She called me Mummy all the time and she said I smelt the same as the Mummy she'd had that had died.

I used to cry for all those little kids sometimes. They had no one.

Even though I was twelve now, no one had told me the facts of life. We were totally ignorant about the things that could happen to our bodies. The older girls never told you anything, they'd just laugh and keep everything a secret.

We were all so innocent it would have been easy for someone to take us for a ride. We had no protection. There must have been cases of kids being molested, but I was lucky, it never happened to me. No one would believe you if you complained about things anyway, adults were always right, kids had no say.

I was also aware that I was changing, growing up, because boys who I had previously fought with now seemed embarrassed in my company. The old easygoing atmosphere had gone. I guess they were changing too.

One Sunday, my mother visited. I could tell she was upset as soon as I saw her.

We went for a walk and she told me that Alice had asked her to leave Ivanhoe. ‘She said she can't afford to keep me any more,' she said bitterly. ‘How many years have I been working for that family and they can't afford to keep me!'

She was very hurt. I was cross and confused, in some ways, I had felt like part of the family and now Mum was no longer going to have anything to do with them. I felt very unsure of myself.

It was well known around Claremont what a good worker my mother was. I think people felt sorry for her for the way she'd been treated. A Mrs Morgan offered Mum a job as a live-in housekeeper and she said that I would be allowed to go and stay there on holidays. Mum was only too pleased to accept this offer. It was the first time she'd been out on her own in the world. She had always told me that she'd be at Ivanhoe for ever, that it was her home.

The Morgans were good to Mum. They gave her an increase in pay, she had a nice room and, for the first time in her life, annual holidays.

Going to the Morgans was the best thing that could have happened to her, she developed a new independence. It was a different atmosphere, they'd never had a servant before. They didn't have Victorian attitudes towards her. Also, this new job was like a proper business arrangement, it wasn't like being one of the family and not getting any time off.

I loved it when she was there, it meant she could come to the Home and spend her annual holidays with me. The nuns let her sleep in a room just off one of the school buildings and they let me sleep there too. A couple of times, she brought the two Morgan girls, June and Dianna, up with her. They were nice girls and enjoyed all the bush around the Home.

In the morning, we'd walk down to the grocer's at the bottom of the hill. There was a deep creek that ran past the store, it was spanned by a wooden bridge. We'd cross the bridge and go into the store.

I could never take my eyes off the jars of lollies. There were jars and jars, all containing lollies of all sizes and colours. Hard-boiled striped candy-sticks stood on the front counter and, next to them, large tins of mixed loose biscuits. Mum would buy me a bag of chocolate biscuits, she knew they were my favourites.

I was very popular with the other children at this time. I felt sorry for them, they all wanted mothers, too. They'd rush over when we were sitting on the lawn and would want to sit near her and touch her, especially the little ones. She always gave them a lolly, but I think it was when she spoke to them or kissed them that they were really happy. That was what they really wanted. She was a very kind person and tried to make a fuss of everyone.

At Christmas I went and stayed at the Morgans. Although I missed Ivanhoe, I liked June and Dianna, and Mum now had more time for me because there was less work to do. I was pleased for her in a way, because I was sick of seeing her work so hard.

After tea she would take me visiting to see Eileen and Nellie, two of her friends who were also servants. They were always happy and laughing and had nice bedrooms too. They always made a fuss of me, giving me clothes and biscuits and milk.

But after Mum had been at the Morgans about two years, Alice asked her if she would come back to Ivanhoe to work. I wanted her to stay at the Morgans, because it was easier for her, but I think Mum still felt a loyalty to the family. It was easy for people to make her feel sorry for them. She was too kind-hearted.

Alice's mother had come to live with them and she was very difficult to look after. I think that's why they wanted Mum back. She had to accept a cut in wages and no annual holidays, but she went anyway. She told me that it was to be permanent and she'd never be leaving there again.

I went to Ivanhoe for Christmas that year, I was about fourteen by then. Judy, June and Dick suddenly seemed a lot older than me. It wasn't the same as our carefree childhood days. Even though we had all loved each other as children, something had changed. We weren't children any more, Judy, June and Dick had begun to get more like their mother. They treated Mum like a servant now, she wasn't their beloved nanny any more.

June had a friend who was a bit of a snob and this girl was always putting me in my place because I was only the maid's
daughter. I'd go and sit in Mum's room and cry. I was suddenly very unsure of my place in the world. I still ate with the family in the dining room, but I felt like an outsider, especially when Alice would ring a little brass bell and my mother would come in and wait on us.

I suddenly realised that there hadn't been one Christmas dinner when Mum had eaten her meal with us. She'd had hers alone in the kitchen all these years. I never wanted to be in the dining room again after that, I wanted to be in the kitchen with my mother.

After the summer holidays Mum took me back to Parkerville, but when I got there, I discovered that Miss Moore had left and I was to have a new House Mother. I felt terrible, I had been living with Miss Moore for nine years and I hadn't even had the opportunity to say goodbye to her.

Why was everything changing? I was really frightened, because my new House Mother had been an enemy of Miss Moore's and I knew she'd take it out on me. Even though Miss Moore had belted me a lot, I was considered one of her pets. I just knew I'd have a bad time.

Also, I was worried that I'd get sent out to work as a domestic and never see my mother again. All the Aboriginal girls were sent out as domestics once they reached fourteen. Only the white kids were trained for anything.

I cried and cried and begged Mum not to leave me there. I had this terrible feeling that if she left me there this time, I'd die. I was so upset I went to the office with Mum to see Sister Dora.

I had to sit on a wooden bench outside and wait while Mum went in. I tried to listen to what they were saying, but they were speaking too softly.

Finally, they called me in, there was an exchange of glances between Miss Button, Sister Dora and Sister Rosemary, then Miss Button said, ‘Do you want to leave here, Gladys? Your mother has said she wants to take you with her.' She smiled kindly at me.

‘Oh yes,' I replied, ‘yes please!' I couldn't believe it, to be with my mother for always, it was too good to be true. I walked over to George Turner to pack.

Pretty soon, the news spread that I was leaving and all the kids crowded round. I handed out keepsakes from my locker. I gave Pat my blue overcoat that was now a bit tight on me, she'd always liked it.

As we set off down the hill, I waved goodbye. I was very excited to think that, at last, Mum and I were going to live at Ivanhoe together. Maybe my childhood dream would come true and I'd be the same as Judy and June. Maybe we'd be one big, happy family, after all. That was what I wanted more than anything.

***

It wasn't long before my dreams came crashing around my feet. Alice was very cross with Mum for bringing me back. She said I couldn't live at Ivanhoe, I wasn't wanted.

It took a week for Mum to find a family who would take me in. The Hewitts had three boys of their own and often took in older girls. I got on well with the boys and enrolled in Claremont High School. I tried not to think about Ivanhoe. I wasn't allowed to stay there weekends, either. If Mum wanted to see me, she had to visit me at the Hewitts. I felt very hurt by it all.

The Hewitts were very religious, but they had a different kind of religion to me. I'll never forget the first Sunday morning they took us all down to Fremantle. I thought we were going to church, I never realised they intended holding a revivalist meeting on a street corner.

We all stood around in a circle and Mr Hewitt handed me a hymn book. Everyone started singing loudly and raising their hands and shouting, ‘Praise the Lord!' As the meeting got more exuberant, one or two would suddenly leap into the air, shouting, ‘Hallelujah brother, Praise the Lord!'

A lot of people started gathering round and I slowly moved
backwards into the crowd, lowering my hymn book as I went. I thought I'd try and pretend I was one of the onlookers.

Unfortunately, Mr Hewitt, who was really quite a sweetie, noticed what I was doing, he grabbed me by the arm and drew me back into the wild circle of worshippers. He whispered in my ear, ‘Sing, Glad, sing. Raise your voice to heaven!'

We'd all sing loudly, more people would leap into the air, shouting, ‘Hallelujah,' then we all had to echo it.

The meeting got more and more frenzied and the minister started shouting out to the onlookers, ‘Repent before it's too late!' All the sinners gathered round seemed quite impressed with the whole proceedings. I suddenly felt a dig in my back and a voice said, ‘Now!' I found myself suddenly yanked from the circle and pulled away. I was amazed when I saw that my rescuer was Warren, the Hewitts' eldest son. We made our way through the entranced crowd and stood against a shop wall.

‘I saw you trying to hide before,' said Warren. ‘Isn't it embarrassing?'

‘Yes,' I groaned. ‘I had no idea it would be like this. I thought we were going to church.'

‘We do this every Sunday, you have to be dying to get out of it.'

‘Oh no,' I sighed. ‘I hope no one I know ever seems me!'

I had been worrying about starting Claremont High School. I didn't want anybody to find out I'd been in a Home and I was concerned that I wouldn't be able to make friends.

As it turned out, I got along with all the other kids really well, especially Noreen and Doreen, who became my very best friends. Noreen was Scottish and was only in Australia because of the war. It was 1940, and she had been sent out with a lot of other children for safekeeping. She had a terrific sense of humour. I spent a lot of time at her house.

Every lunch hour at school, we had air-raid drill. There was a park nearby, with trenches dug in case we were ever bombed. At lunchtime, they'd blow the siren and we all had to run as fast as
we could and jump in the trenches. You can imagine the shambles there was, we'd all leap in and fling up sand at each other. It was chaos.

Actually, in a funny sort of way, the war really affected our education. All the young men had joined up and I suppose some of the women had been manpowered, so all our teachers were really old.

I'll never forget Miss Edwards, her fiance had been killed in World War One and she was very sentimental. She loved reading us old romantic novels, especially
Wuthering Heights
. She would sit out the front of the class with tears streaming down her face. Now and then she'd have to stop completely and blow her nose and try and pull herself together.

During our lunch hour, Noreen, Doreen and I would walk down to the Claremont Shopping Centre. I was always the last back, so I'd call in to the florist and ask if there were any leftover flowers that I could give an old lady who was sick. They always managed to scrounge me up a few and I'd present them to Miss Edwards when I got back to school. ‘I'm sorry I'm late, Miss Edwards, but I was buying you these.' And she'd say, ‘That's all right, Gladys, you may sit down.' There'd be tears in her eyes.

One day, I was so tired that I went to sleep in school and Miss Edwards noticed. ‘I think you'd better sit outside the class for a while, Gladys,' she said, ‘the fresh air might wake you up.'

I was really scared. I knew that if Mr Simms, the headmaster, came along and saw me sitting there, he'd know I had done something wrong.

I nearly died when I saw the Head coming down the hall. I sat with my head bowed, hoping that he wouldn't notice me. I couldn't bear to think of being caned. It reminded me too much of Parkerville. He stopped when he got to me and said, ‘What are you doing out here, girlie?'