Becoming Billy Dare (15 page)

If we all never again shall have the pleasure of meeting here below, I hope we shall in the Glorious Land of Promise. Remember me to my sister Elizabeth and all inquiring friends, I remain your loving son until death, Seamus MacSwiney
.

Paddy folded the letter neatly and handed it over to Mac. Mac wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and drew a deep breath.

‘Sure the old woman will like that. A grand letter, it is.'

Paddy quickly discovered he was in demand. All afternoon men came to him asking if he could write letters to their wives, their mothers and their sweethearts. Some of the shearers were so grateful that they gave him sixpence for his trouble. Each time Paddy set pen to paper, he thought of the letters he could be writing for himself to Honor or Aunt Lil, but it made his heart feel tight in his chest. The past was a dark place that he didn't want to visit, not even in a letter.

Late that afternoon, while Violet was in the kitchen with Mary and Paddy was sitting on the steps of the shearers' hut, a policeman rode into the yard. Further behind him, marching across the home paddock was another officer leading a line of Aboriginal men. Around each man's neck and wrists were heavy manacles through which loops of chain ran, so each man was chained to the man behind him. Paddy stared at them, bewildered.

‘Here, Billy boy,' called Jim, looking directly at Paddy.

Feeling sick with anxiety, Paddy crossed the yard.

‘Sergeant Smith here was passing by and thought he'd stop and ask us a few questions. He was wanting to know if I'd come across a boy and a little girl on the track in to Gunyah Station. Now I didn't but I was wondering if maybe you might have, seeing as you came from the other direction.' Jim winked and then waved his hand in front of his face, as if he were shooing away flies.

Paddy took his time before he answered thoughtfully. ‘No, sir. Can't say that I did.'

‘Don't see why the kids would turn up here,' said Jim.

‘Me neither,' said Paddy.

‘They're runaways,' said the policeman. ‘A gent put in a missing persons report for them a couple of weeks back. I thought maybe one of you blokes might have crossed their path on the way in.'

‘I'll go and ask the other shearers if they saw them,' offered Paddy helpfully.

Paddy ran into the shearers' hut and stood at the end of the table, staring silently at the men, his palms sweating, his heart pounding. He counted to fifty and then sauntered out into the yard again.

‘No, sir,' he said, to the police officer. ‘No one's seen hide nor hair of them.'

The police officer thanked them both, turned to walk away and then he stopped.

He turned back and looked straight at Paddy. ‘Any of the tarboys go by the name of Paddy Delaney?'

‘There's a Jack and a Ted and two Jimmys but no Paddy' Paddy smiled earnestly.

‘I didn't think so,' said the officer, nodding. ‘Thanks for your help, mates.'

He mounted his horse, called out to the other policeman and together they led the procession of chained men onto the road.

‘Thanks, Jim,' said Paddy. ‘I was lucky it was you he talked to first.'

‘No worries. I've never been one for helping the traps. Lucky old man Gordon was out with his missus.'

Paddy stared after the dismal procession of chained men. ‘Jim, why are all those men chained together? Is that what they'd do to me and Violet? Chain us up and take us in?'

Jim laughed. ‘Nah, you're a white fella.'

‘But what did they do?'

‘Nothing, probably. They're witnesses. There's been trouble over at Eardisley Downs Station and they're being taken in for questioning.'

‘Witnesses? But why are they treated like that?'

‘I told you, they're blacks,' said Jim. ‘You don't need to go worrying about them. It's yourself you gotta worry about. Call yourself Billy Smith or something if anyone goes asking, and get that Violet to lay low. You're lucky she wasn't about or she'd be back with them circus folk quick smart and you'd be in the lock-up. If I was you, I'd get right out of New South Wales as soon as the shearing's finished.'

Paddy nodded but he couldn't stop thinking about the chained men. If he had become a missionary, would he have been able to save their souls? Would he have been able to stop the police from treating them like that? Perhaps Violet was the only person he'd ever be able to save.

Later that afternoon, Paddy and Violet sat in the shearers' shed together. Paddy flipped through the
Bulletin
magazine, reading out articles to some of the men.

‘Here,' said one shearer, handing him a newspaper. ‘Read us a bit of the Melbourne news while you're at it.' Paddy scanned through the paper, looking for something of interest to share with the men.

A small advertisement on the entertainment page caught his eye.
‘the Lilliputian Theatre Company seeks talented young performers aged 6 to 16 for New Zealand Tour. Auditions for parts in their production of The Pirates of Penzance will be held at the Haymarket Theatre, on Saturday 21st November, 2.00 p.m
.'

‘Here, Jim,' said Paddy, ‘You ever heard of this Lilliputian Theatre Company?'

Jim shook his head but another of the shearers piped up. ‘I saw that mob in Sydney last year. Took my kiddies along for their Christmas pantomime. It was a swell show. All little tackers, dancing and singing as if they were a pack of midgets. You wouldn't credit what those kids can do.'

A whole troupe of kids, all working together. Paddy looked down at Violet.
New Zealand
, he thought. Jack Ace would never find them there. Paddy tore out the page with the advertisement, folded it up small and put it inside his swag. The auditions were being held on Saturday. Shearing would be finished by Thursday. Somehow, Paddy would have to find a way to get them both to Melbourne.

20
The Lilliputians

On the last day, the men shared the rams, a slow and difficult task. Paddy was kept busy with the tar bucket and the smell of blood made his nose tingle. When the last ram was shorn and sent down the chute, the bell rang, the whistle blew and Gunyah Station was cut out.

In an hour, the sheds were deserted. The men took their pay and headed back onto the road. On horse, on foot, even one man on a bicycle, they set off in all directions. Tom, Jim and Mac all came and said goodbye to Paddy before hitching their swags onto their shoulders again and taking to the road. Jim pressed a pound note into Paddy's hand. ‘For the kid,' he said. Paddy shook his hand and thanked him.

Paddy stood waiting with Violet while bales of pressed wool were secured on the bullock dray and then they scrambled onto the top of the load. Swirls of dust rose up behind them as Gunyah Station disappeared from view and the long road stretched out ahead. In the late afternoon the next day, they reached the banks of the Murray and crossed over the wide river into Echuca, from where they'd catch the night train to Melbourne.

Violet was asleep before the train left the station. Paddy tried to prop her up so that she slept in her seat but in the end he gave up and woke to find her curled up against him as usual.

When they reached Melbourne, Violet was overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the city. She let out a little shriek as they stood on a busy street corner and a crowded tram trundled past. Paddy had to drag her away from the shop windows. If he loosened his grip for a moment, she'd run and press her face against the plate glass, staring in wonder at the displays.

Paddy took her straight into an emporium. The staff looked at him suspiciously but when he laid the pound notes on the table, one of the shop ladies took Violet away and brought her back in a simple cotton dress and a pair of shiny black boots. Even though Violet complained that the leather pinched, he could tell she was pleased. She stood on the pavement outside the emporium, staring down at the shiny black shoes and grinning from ear to ear. Delicately, she pointed one toe out in front and then the other, hopping from foot to foot in a little dance.

The city streets shimmered in the heat and the smell from the horse manure was pungent. Paddy felt too hot under the weight of Dai's coat but it was easier to wear it than carry it. They wandered up through the city, asking directions to the Haymarket Theatre.

When Paddy turned into the stage door, his heart started to thump so loudly that he worried Violet would hear it and be infected with his nervousness. If they didn't get work with the Lilliputians, he didn't know what they'd do next. He wished he'd had enough money to buy new clothes for himself as well as Violet. Self-consciously, he brushed the dust from his coat.

There were dozens of kids lined up to audition. Violet clung to Paddy's arm as they waited in the line for their names to be entered in a big leatherbound scrapbook. He shook her loose while he spoke to the man, trying to act more confident and grown-up than he really felt.

‘We're casting for
The Pirates of Penzance
,' said the man. ‘taking the troupe to New Zealand on tour. Which one of you is auditioning?'

‘We both are, sir. I'm fourteen, sir, and the little girl is six.'

‘You're tall for fourteen,' said the man disapprovingly. ‘We like our kiddies to be small for their age. What's your names, then?'

Paddy watched as the man wrote down Billy and Violet Smith.

They sat on a bench in the wings, watching each of the children walk out on stage to perform. Paddy could feel the sweat prickling on his forehead and the back of his neck.

Each of the children had to sing a song, make an attempt at a few dance steps and, if they could, demonstrate some other skill. When it came to Paddy's turn, he felt himself blushing nervously as he stepped out into the middle of the stage. He sang
Ave Maria
. His voice had grown deeper since the last time he had sung it, but the notes rang clear and true through the theatre.

‘You have a fine voice. Can you show me anything else, boy?' asked Mr Pollard. He had a clipboard on his lap and wrote a few scratchy words on the sheet before him.

‘I have a good memory. I can memorise anything, sir. And I can recite, too. This one is by Mr Henry Lawson.'

Mr Pollard listened patiently as Paddy recited a poem Jim had taught him,
Freedom on the Wallaby
.

Mr Pollard nodded and sucked his cheeks in thoughtfully. ‘Next,' he called.

Violet skipped confidently out onto the stage and grinned at the adults watching her.

‘This song is my favourite. My mam taught it to me.'

She sang in a high, sweet voice
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms
. Paddy saw the expression of delight on Mr Pollard's face and shifted restlessly from one foot to the other, his fingers crossed. Violet did a couple of turns of the stage, skipping and tumbling, showing off the tricks that Jack Ace and Coo-chee had taught her, and then she bounded back to Paddy.

‘We'll both be in the show! We'll both be in the show!' she crowed.

They sat on a long wooden bench beside the other auditioning children, who all seemed to have their parents with them. After the auditions had finished, a stout woman walked along the line, talking to the parents. When she came to Paddy, she stopped.

‘Where are your parents, young man?'

‘We don't have any.'

The woman looked at him sharply. ‘No guardian? No grandparents?'

‘No, ma'am. But we'll both work hard, if you take us. You won't be sorry.'

Mrs Pollard blushed.

‘I'm sorry, sonny. You were very good but we can't take you. You're too old.'

‘But it said from six to sixteen in the paper!' said Paddy.

‘We already have a couple of lads your age. But your little sister here, she's another story. She'll be a real crowd-pleaser. Our audiences come to see the little ones. It's what our show's all about.'

‘But Violet can't be in your show without me. She needs me to look after her. And she has to learn her letters. I've been teaching her to read.'

‘We'll take good care of her and teach her a trade. We also employ a teacher and give all the children daily lessons. Your little sister will learn to read and write, don't you worry about that. This is a great opportunity for her. All these other families, they're more than happy to send their children off with the company. It can't be easy for you to be looking after your little sister on your own.'

Paddy was silent. He looked down at Violet and she slipped her hand into his and smiled, her face bright with trust. Paddy swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. ‘We have to stick together.'

‘Listen, boy. I don't know what your story is and where you're living, but if the welfare catch onto you, they'll take your little sister away from you. She'll be a lot better off with us than in any orphan asylum.'

The woman reached into her pocket and took out a shiny new shilling.

‘Here you go, you take this for now and have a think about it. Bring her back this evening and I'll give you five pounds. I promise you, you'll both be better off.'

Paddy grabbed Violet by the wrist and dragged her out into the harsh sunlight. He hadn't planned for this at all. He hadn't considered what would happen if one or the other of them failed to win a part in the production.

They wandered aimlessly around the city streets while the afternoon shadows grew longer. Paddy bought two hot saveloys from a street vendor and when they'd finished eating, he counted the change. After paying for their fares to Melbourne, Violet's outfit and the saveloys, there wasn't a lot of money left over, despite the extra pound Jim had given him and Mrs Pollard's shilling. He'd have to come up with a new plan quickly.

He was re-counting a handful of pennies when someone shoved his shoulder and the coins went flying. Paddy looked up to see Nugget Malloy standing beside him, leaning on his cane.

‘I remember you,' said Nugget. ‘You're the crazy mick that we took to the circus and got sprung with, ain't ya?'