Read Online Billy Mack's War by James Roy - Free Book Online Page B

too bad,’ Granddad said. ‘Long drive, though.’
    â€˜How did she seem?’
    â€˜Oh, she was all right, once she got on the boat. Nervous, I suppose, poor pet.’
    â€˜You would be, wouldn’t you? — Nan said.
    â€˜Oh, too right,’ Granddad replied. I heard the soft scratch and hiss of a match as he lit his pipe. I wondered how long it would be before Nan told him to take it outside.
    â€˜How long will it take her to get there?’ Nan asked.
    â€˜Don’t know, to be honest. She’ll get to Melbourne tomorrow, I suppose, then there’ll be a train to Sydney. A couple more days, I expect, till she’s there.’
    â€˜Poor love.’
    â€˜Yes, but she’s got her man back, so that’s something.’
    â€˜How do you think he’ll be, love? Really, I mean.’
    I heard Granddad sigh. ‘Who knows, Melv? Just have to wait and see, I reckon. How’s Billy been?’
    â€˜Good as gold,’ Nan said. ‘Works hard, that boy. Got all the jobs done like a real trooper. Took it real serious, he did.’
    â€˜I knew he would. Did Stan turn up?’
    â€˜Yes, love, he dropped over just like you arranged.’
    â€˜Didn’t want to ask him,’ Granddad said, ‘but I didn’t feel like I had much choice.’
    â€˜Stan’s all right, Tom.’
    â€˜You reckon?’
    â€˜I do. I don’t know what you’ve got against him. It’s not his fault he’s a bit slow. And he works hard, with his old mum over there and everything else.’
    â€˜Well, I just don’t like him, a bit slow or not.’
    â€˜I think he’s all right, Tom. And I do wish you’d take that stinking thing out on the porch. I’ll bring your tea out in a bit.’
    â€˜All right, love.’ Granddad’s chair scraped back as he stood up, and I heard the screen door slap shut behind him.
    I climbed into bed then, pulled the covers right up under my chin, and listened to Granddad pacing slowly up and down the wide verandah in his socks. The strong smell of his pipe smoke drifted into my room. I wondered if Dad was in Sydney doing the same thing as me at that moment, lying in a bed in a room that wasn’t his, just going over things in his mind. I remember thinking again about the returned soldiers putting their heads on their own pillows at long last. A shiver of excitement darted through me as I tried to grasp that finally, at last, my own dad would be coming home, and lying down in his bed, in his house. In our house, beside Ma, and in the room right next to mine. And I realised then that even though I’d kept telling myself that he would come back in the end, deep inside I’d begun to believe that he never would. It was almost like I felt I should stop myself thinking about it, in case it was all just a dream, and on awakening I’d discover that everything I’d begun to believe really was the truth.
    The next day was Sunday, and, just like we did every week, we went to church. Nan pressed my best short pants and shirt, and I helped her get the twins sorted. Hattie wasn’t hard to get ready — she was usually pretty cooperative — but Meg was being a cheeky little beggar, as Ma always called her. I’d just get the belt on her dress tied up, and she’d wait until I turned my back before she’d give it a yank and run away giggling, the belt trailing behind her like the tail on a kite. Ordinarily this would have made me pretty mad, but I had other things on my mind. For a start, I couldn’t wait to tell Doug that my dad was coming home.
    Evansbridge was just like most small towns, I guess, because in the end I didn’t have to tell anyone anything. As Granddad brought the truck to a stop in the field beside the church, several grown-ups and a couple of kids rushed over to the cab, where Nan and Granddad had the twins squeezed in between them. ‘Is it true?’