Dreamscapes Read online

  The noise had brought the rest of the townspeople onto the wooden boardwalk. Their muttering grew like the hum of a swarm of angry bees as they watched the travellers clean up. Catriona was shielded closely by her parents, but she knew she would never forget the suspicion in the townspeople’s eyes, or the censorship in their expressions as they silently parted to allow the troupe to leave the hotel. She could feel their animosity like a knife in her back as she climbed onto the wagon, and for the first time in her life she felt fear.

  The first clod of dirt hit the side of the wagon. It was followed by many more as the muttering turned to shouts of derision and the local dogs snapped and growled at the horses’ heels.

  Declan’s face was grim as he slapped the reins and they trundled out of town, and Velda was silent as she hugged Catriona to her side. Kane no longer laughed and joked as he rode alongside, and Poppy sat next to the trembling Max in the other wagon, her face ashen, all spirit dowsed by the harsh reality of what they had become.

  It was a sad little troupe that finally set up camp two hours later. In desultory silence they sat around the fire and ate the last of the damper bread and golden syrup which they washed down with billy tea. Catriona looked at the faces, each of them closed to her, their thoughts and emotions shut away.

  Max was staring into the flames, his gaze bleak as he held the grey-muzzled terrier in his trembling arms. Patch licked the old man’s face, but his gesture was not acknowledged, his sympathy lost in the mire of the old man’s sense of hopelessness. Poppy’s make-up was streaked with her tears, her shoulders hunched beneath the heavy woollen shawl as she clasped her knees and rocked back and forth. The gaudy dress glittered coldly in the light of the flames, the feathered head-dress drooping sadly over her eyes. This was a defeated Poppy – a Poppy who couldn’t even dredge up the energy to wash her face or change into something more comfortable.

  Kane smoked a cheroot, the firelight glinting on the ruby ring he wore on his little finger, his eyes narrowed in contemplation as he stared into the darkness. Catriona wondered what he was thinking, for although she had come to like him, Kane was still a puzzle. He had been with them for months, and although he’d told them many a tale, he’d never revealed any clear details of his life before he’d joined the troupe – had never explained why he’d chosen to live like this when he could have afforded better.

  As Catriona watched him, she experienced a pang of fright. Kane might have been tight-lipped and secretive about his past, but he was never mean, and his money had seen them out of many a crisis. What if he decided to leave them? What would they do then? Catriona bit her lip, knowing she had to encourage him to stay. But how? She looked at her parents, hoping for inspiration.

  Velda and Declan sat on a fallen branch, their hands entwined, their shoulders resting against each other, and Catriona felt a strange and unwelcome sense of isolation wash over her. For their very togetherness was exclusive. It was as if they no longer needed her – or even noticed she was there. She shivered as she looked out at the great darkness beyond the camp-fire. She had never feared the darkness before, but tonight was different. Things had changed, and she knew without a doubt that life, as she had known it, would never be the same again. For the heart had gone out of the troupe – the very essence of who they were had been obliterated in the shame of what had happened in Goondiwindi.

  There was a reluctance to leave the warm glow of the camp-fire – it was as if it offered the only comfort on such a bleak night. Catriona finally went to check on the horses, patting both of them, resting her cheek on the warm, dusty coats as they cropped at the grass. They would move on tomorrow, and the next day as well as the day after – a seemingly never-ending journey to nowhere. Catriona sighed as she turned away and headed for the wagon. Bit by bit her life was falling apart, but as long as she had Mam and Da, surely they would survive?

  *

  Yet, despite the disasters that had beset them, hope still flickered. Toowoomba lay on the edge of the Great Dividing Range. According to Declan, the town was the gateway to the fertile Darling Downs, and still an important staging-point for the cattle drovers who came from the great grazing lands to the west. They had high hopes of earning some money in Toowoomba, for it was a large town, with gracious buildings, several churches and a railway station.

  ‘There’s no point in putting on a parade,’ said Declan, as he stood, hands deep in his pockets next to the wagon. ‘There are so few of us now, we’d just look ridiculous.’

  Catriona and Poppy still had nightmares about Goondiwindi, and they both shuddered.

  Kane, as usual, came up with a solution. ‘I have been to the Post Office and picked up my money,’ he said cheerfully. ‘And have taken the liberty of hiring a small hall for tonight. If we quickly draw some fliers, we can hand them out. There are sure to be some takers in a well-set-up place like this.’

  Velda looked up at Kane, her eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘What would we do without you, Mr Kane?’ she said, her voice husky. ‘You’re so generous. So kind.’

  Kane put his arms around Catriona and her mother and hugged them close. ‘I am only doing what I can to help, dear lady,’ he said. He smiled down at Catriona. ‘We can’t let this young, sweet little thing go to bed hungry, now can we?’

  Poppy snorted and Catriona blushed. She’d never been called a ‘young, sweet thing’ before and didn’t quite know how to take Kane’s rather flowery compliments in the glare of Poppy’s scorn.

  Declan got down from the wagon, his eyes dark with pain. ‘It should be me seeing to my family’s welfare,’ he growled. ‘But I thank you, Kane.’ Declan shook the Englishman’s hand, his shoulders stiff with pride.

  Catriona eased from Kane’s embrace and watched the three adults. She was aware of the strong, underlying emotions that laced through the conversation – yet couldn’t identify them fully, for there were things peculiar to adults that she was too young to understand. She knew only that her father hated taking what he termed as charity from Kane, and he would have refused it if only he’d been able to afford to do so. His pride was broken.

  Her mam was simply grateful, relieved that the next few hours could be survived, and that there was someone strong to make all the decisions – for Velda, despite her determination to remain cheerful in the face of disaster, was a woman who found life much easier when she didn’t have to think for herself. She had always leaned on Declan for advice and support – now she had turned to Kane who appeared the stronger of the two men.

  They slowly made their way through town, marvelling at the trucks and cars that lined the streets and sent great clouds of dust into the sky from beneath their wheels. Toowoomba was certainly a town of riches, and even the people wore smart clothes as they walked along the boardwalks and did their shopping.

  Velda sighed with longing over the hats and gloves and shoes, so smart, so very up to date – so out of her reach. Catriona wished she could have gone into a shop and bought her mam a lovely hat, but with only a few pennies in the tin, the wish could not be fulfilled.

  The hall was a long, narrow wooden building which was in a sad state of repair and obviously neglected in favour of the new hall in the centre of town. Situated next to the station, it was veiled in the soot that came from the steam-engines. The paint had peeled, the stage curtains were rotting from age and mildew, and the single, filthy window was glued fast with water-swollen timbers that were covered in black mould. There was a raised platform at one end of the hall, and a stack of aged chairs piled up to one side. The floor hadn’t been swept in months and there was evidence of nesting rodents in the corners and on the overhead rafters.

  Yet there were surprises. The electricity worked, so they had lights and a ceiling fan. There was a lavatory out the back that was eventually coaxed into flushing, and a tap with cold running water to wash in.

  Declan and Kane went into town to hand out the hastily drawn fliers. The women found brooms and mops and old rags and set to work. Their
cotton dresses were soon soaked in sweat, the white collars grubby from the dust and accumulated filth of years of neglect. Hands were reddened and knees became ingrained with dirt as they scrubbed the floor. Hair tumbled from pins and stuck to their sweating faces as they wrestled to bring down the heavy velvet curtains so they could be shaken free of their dust and re-hung. And all the while Max and his little dog sat in a corner and dreamed away the afternoon.

  Catriona kept glancing across at him. She was worried, for Max didn’t seem to understand where he was, and when she’d gone across to him earlier and asked him if he wanted a cuppa, he’d looked at her as if she was a stranger. He sat there in a strange sort of trance, humming to himself and Patch, and then every so often he would look up and smile and ask if it was time for tea.

  ‘Poor old bugger’s losing his mind,’ whispered Poppy as they finally stacked away the cleaning things and headed for the tap. ‘He ain’t been right since Goondiwindi.’

  Catriona and Velda looked back into the hall. ‘He’s just old,’ said Velda.

  Poppy finished soaping her hair and shoved her head under the flow of water. She emerged with face and hair streaming. ‘I’m with him all day,’ she replied as rubbed the towel over her head. ‘He’s forgotten who I am, you know. Keeps asking me my name, and whether tea’s ready yet and has ’e ’ad ’is breakfast.’ She dried her face and handed over the shared towel. ‘It ain’t fair to keep ’im travelling no more,’ she muttered.

  ‘There’s nowhere else for him to go,’ said Velda with a frown of worry as she took her turn at the tap. ‘The homes won’t take him all the while he’s got Patch, and they’ve been together so long it would be an awful thing to separate them.’

  The three of them finished their ablutions in silence. With all their worries and concerns, Max’s rapid deterioration was the hardest to come to terms with.

  *

  The show had been different to any other. Instead of performing separately, Catriona’s parents had formed a duo and sung in harmony. Poppy had gone down into the audience to flirt light-heartedly with the male patrons as she sang some of the naughty songs she’d learned so long ago in London. Kane’s monologue had been greeted with laughter and applause, his slightly off-colour jokes taken with good heart. Even Max had stirred from his dreamlike state, and with his baggy suit and squashed hat, had led the ruffed Patch through his weary paces. It had been a bravura performance, and they had watched with tears in their eyes as the old man and his dog shuffled through the act and received polite, but sympathetic applause.

  Catriona’s nerves had kicked in – this would be the first time on stage alone. The pink taffeta dress was too tight, too short and too childish, but it was all she had to wear. Yet, once the gramophone had been wound up and the music began, the nerves took flight and she forgot the discomfort of the dress and lost herself in the aria. She came off stage, flushed and elated, for she knew she’d done well tonight. The audience had enjoyed her singing, and had even called for more. The show had been a success, giving her hope for their future, so what did it matter if the puffed sleeves of her dress bit into her arm, or the skirt barely skimmed her knees – she had performed her first solo – she finally felt like a star.

  The hall slowly emptied and the money was counted. There was enough to see them on the next leg of their journey north-east. They changed into their everyday clothes and went to the nearest hotel where they treated themselves to a feast of meat and potatoes and fresh vegetables all served up in a thick, rich gravy. For pudding there had been tinned fruit and lashings of creamy yellow custard.

  Even Max enjoyed his meal, hiding the terrier beneath the folds of his voluminous coat and surreptitiously feeding him scraps when the hotelier’s wife wasn’t looking. Sated and content, the troupe slowly made their way back to the paddock behind the hall where they had left the horses and two wagons.

  ‘You’re very quiet, Poppy,’ said Catriona as they strolled arm in arm down the moonlit dirt track. ‘I’d have thought you’d have been pleased about the way the show went tonight.’

  Poppy pulled her cardigan across her chest and shivered. It was cold in the Outback at night, and her clothes were thin and worn. ‘I ain’t got no enthusiasm for it any more,’ she said quietly. ‘Not after Goondiwindi.’

  ‘It’ll all come right, you’ll see,’ said Catriona. ‘Goondiwindi was just a bad town. A couple more nights like tonight and you’ll soon be your old self.’

  ‘Nah.’ Poppy came to a standstill as the others caught up with them. ‘I’ve ’ad it, luv. I ain’t ever goin’ to be anything else but a third-rate chorus girl, and I’m gettin’ too old to be prancing about in frilly knickers. It’s time I found something else to do.’

  ‘You can’t,’ breathed Velda. ‘What am I to do without you, Poppy? Please.’ She stretched out a hand and laid it on Poppy’s arm. ‘Please reconsider.’

  ‘Poppy don’t go,’ cried Catriona as she threw her arms around Poppy’s waist and clung to her. The tears were hot, the fear of losing her only true friend almost too much to bear. ‘It’ll get better, you’ll see,’ she pleaded, the tears running down her face and soaking Poppy’s cardigan. ‘They loved you tonight. They always love you no matter what.’ She pulled away and looked with beseeching eyes into Poppy’s face. ‘I love you too,’ she sobbed. ‘Please don’t leave me.’

  Poppy’s voice was rough with emotion as she held Catriona’s hands and looked down into her face. ‘And I’ll always love you, Kitty. But it’s time for me to move on. Time for all of us to find something better than this. It’s the end, Kitty. We all know that.’

  ‘But where will you go?’ asked Velda, the tears evident in her voice. ‘What will you do?’

  ‘I’ll find work somewhere,’ she replied, releasing her hold of Catriona’s hands. ‘Perhaps in a hotel, or a shop. There’s bound to be something in Brisbane, or one of the cities on the coast.’

  ‘But you’ll be on your own,’ wept Catriona.

  ‘I been on me own before,’ she murmured. ‘I’ll manage.’

  ‘Have I had me dinner yet?’ said the frail voice.

  As if relieved to be breaking the tension, Poppy linked arms with Max and steered him towards the second wagon. ‘Yes,’ she said firmly. ‘Now it’s time for you and Patch to go to sleep.’

  ‘I’m not sleepy,’ the old man grumbled. ‘And who are you? Why are you talking to me like that?’

  ‘It’s me, Poppy,’ she explained carefully as she kept him on the move. ‘And if you’re very good, I’ll let you have the last biscuit out of the tin.’

  ‘Oh, God,’ breathed Velda. ‘I can’t bear it. Poor Max. Poor Poppy.’

  Catriona watched her friend walk away into the night with the old man shuffling along beside her. ‘We’re going to lose both of them, aren’t we, Mam?’ she sobbed.

  Velda’s arm around her shoulders was little comfort, her words merely enforcing the awful pain that had lodged around her heart. ‘Max is old and bewildered,’ she explained. ‘He’ll be better off in a home where he can be looked after properly. Perhaps we can find somewhere that will take Patch as well.’

  ‘And Poppy? What about Poppy?’ Catriona persisted.

  ‘Poppy’s a grown woman, Kitty. She has to make her own decisions about her future.’ Velda turned Catriona to face her, and gently wiped away the tears. ‘We all know it’s the end, Kitty, despite how well it went tonight. Why prolong the agony by refusing to acknowledge that?’

  ‘She could still come with us until she finds something else to do,’ said Catriona stubbornly.

  Velda shook her head, her expression sad. ‘She’s had enough,’ she explained softly. ‘There’s a station here, and a train that will take her to the coast where she’s a good chance of finding better paid work. Don’t begrudge her that, Kitty. Don’t make her feel guilty or ashamed because she has to leave. It doesn’t mean she’s stopped loving you – doesn’t mean she won’t miss you just as much as you’ll miss her.’


  Catriona blinked away the fresh tears. ‘But I’ll never see her again,’ she sniffed.

  ‘Goodbyes are a part of life, my darling,’ said her mother with a smile. ‘We are all on a journey, and will meet many people on our way. Some we will know for many years, some only fleetingly. We will make friends and enemies as we go through life. But each and every one of those people will touch us – will give us something that, hopefully, will enrich our lives or bring us a deeper understanding of the world we are living in and why we are who we are.’

  Catriona thought about that, and although she didn’t really understand all her mother was saying, she did feel comforted by it.

  Max’s querulous voice drifted into the night as Poppy tried to settle him down to sleep, and Catriona huddled beneath the heavy blankets, her thoughts racing. There had to be some way of persuading Poppy to stay – but how? She looked out at the night sky, so clear, so studded with stars the light from them gilded the surrounding paddock and the horses, making them look like a scene from a fantasy tale. If only Poppy would stay until they reached the coast, then they could all find work together and not have to be parted.

  ‘We’ll have to sell the other horse and wagon,’ murmured Declan to his wife as they lay close together at the other end of the wagon.

  Catriona tensed as she listened in to their quiet conversation.

  ‘Kane might prefer to use it instead of that old tent,’ replied Velda. ‘Besides, there’s Max. Where would he sleep? There’s no room in here as it is.’

  ‘We need the money, darling,’ he murmured. ‘Kane and Max will have to share the tent until we can find a suitable place to leave Max.’

  ‘But I thought we had enough to see us through for a while?’ Velda’s voice was sharp with concern.

  ‘If Poppy is determined to leave, then she must be paid what she’s owed. She’ll need money for train fare, food, and lodgings. It won’t leave us much, and there’s no guarantee we’ll have another night like tonight.’