“Z-day,” Amelia’s mother said to her daughters as she read from the notice that’d been issued to all households. They were sitting in the lounge room of their Lae house, Ruth in a wicker chair while the girls sat on the embroidered camelback sofa. A slight breeze blew through the shuttered windows of their plantation-style home. “That’s what they’re calling it.”
Amelia grabbed the notice from her mother and read the words for herself.
Lae and Salamaua have been fixed as embarkation points in the Morobe District and billeting arrangements will be made at those points. In order that arrangements may proceed with expedition it is requested that all concerned make the following preparations immediately:
At the moment it is not possible to inform you of the date you will be required to embark or to leave your home, but as soon as information has been received you will be advised either by the District Officer at Salamaua, the Assistant District Officer at Wau, the Patrol Officer at Otibanda, the Patrol Officer at Finschhafen or the Assistant District Officer, Lae, as the case may be. Until further notice of movements has been communicated to you, it has been requested that you remain as near as possible to your homes.
Amelia had read enough. She handed it back to her mother, who was immaculate in a cream-coloured afternoon dress with puffed sleeves and a belted waist. Amelia, on the other hand, was slightly dishevelled in her standard white-collared shirt that was tucked into high-waisted, wide-leg pants.
“It doesn’t say when, though,” Evelyn offered, placing a linen serviette on her simple button-down shirt dress. Evelyn never needed much in the way of fashion to look beautiful.
“Can’t come soon enough,” Sofia replied as she stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. She was also immaculately presented, wearing a long-sleeve pink floral dress with a contrasting white collar. Amelia didn’t know how she stood it in this heat.
“I suggest you girls pack up your things today,” her mother said, snapping her fingers at one of the houseboys to bring her a cup of tea. “Take only the necessities.”
“Let’s not be hasty,” Amelia replied as she stood, pants swooshing as she started to pace the room. “It could be weeks before they get organised. You know how slow things move in New Guinea.”
“Regardless, we should be prepared,” her mother replied. She sat back in her chair, posture rigid as the bare-chested houseboy handed her a cup of tea with a shaky hand. Splashes of liquid pooled in the saucer. She pursed her lips and turned to him to say, “Polau, what is this?”
Polau, the Lae houseboy, looked to the floor and whispered, “Your tea, missus.”
“I believe you’re mistaken. Tea is to remain in a cup – while this is sitting in the saucer. Do you know how uncouth that is? To be served tea like this?”
Polau didn’t reply, hands still shaking as he stared at the wooden floors. Clearly annoyed by his lack of response, Amelia’s mother plucked the cup from its saucer and threw its contents of steamy liquid across Polau’s chest. He recoiled as the hot liquid scoured his skin.
“Mum!” Amelia shouted.
“Perhaps that will teach you for next time,” her mother said, and she handed him the cup to take away.
Polau scurried out the room, a welt already forming where the tea had burned him. Amelia and Evelyn went after him, but he was quick to disappear outside, unwilling to accept their help.
“What were you thinking?” Amelia demanded, scowling at her mother as she re-entered the room. Evelyn sat back down, shaking her head silently.
Her mother looked at her fingernails. “As I was saying, we need to be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.”
“How will I decide what to take?” Sofia replied, but no one paid her any attention.
Evelyn bit her lip and leaned forward. “What about me, Mum? Did you speak to Dad about what we discussed?”
Another houseboy returned with a perfectly poured cup of tea, which Amelia’s mother happily accepted. She took a sip, the handle of the patterned cup pinched between her thumb and index finger. Amelia stared, mouth open, finding it hard to believe that her mum could have been so vicious.
“I did,” her mother replied. “And we agreed you may stay. For now. The hospital needs you.”
“Pardon me?” Amelia asked.
“The government has permitted nurses to stay,” Evelyn said quietly, avoiding her sister’s eye.
“Then women can stay?” Amelia replied, a jolt of excitement coursing through her body.
Her mother wiped the edges of her mouth with a napkin. “Nurses can stay, which Evelyn is—”
“I’m a nurse!” Amelia cut her off.
“No,” her mother went on. “You would’ve been if you’d remained in Sydney and received your certification, instead of rushing back here …”
Amelia placed a hand on her hip. “I know as much as Evelyn. Just because I don’t have a piece of paper to show it doesn’t mean I can’t help.”
Her mother stood, placing her napkin on the table before walking over to her daughter and resting a hand on her shoulder. “That’s very admirable of you, dear, but I believe your intentions are elsewhere.”
“They are not! I want to help!”
“Hmm …”
“Why in God’s name would you want to stay?” Sofia interjected, before turning to Evelyn and patting her knee. “No offence.”
Ignoring Sofia, Evelyn turned towards Amelia. “Mother’s right. It’s too dangerous.”
“Are you hearing yourself, Evelyn? How is it any different for me than you?”
Her mother squeezed Amelia’s shoulder. “Evelyn’s an experienced nurse, Amelia. They need her. You’ll be much happier in Sydney, away from this mess.”
Amelia flinched. “So, you’re happy to leave her to tend to this mess, but not me?”
“I’m familiar with the hospital, Meels,” Evelyn said. “I know the doctors and how to treat the various tropical diseases. That takes years of practice. It’s too dangerous for someone who’s not experienced.”
Amelia threw her hands up in the air. “Everything’s always too dangerous! Flying’s too dangerous. New Guinea’s too dangerous. Daniel’s too dangerous—” Amelia’s fingers flew to her lips, her boldness causing her stomach to lurch. She cleared her throat, raised her chin and, in a steady voice, said, “Isn’t it about time you let me decide for myself?”
“Perhaps when you’re mature enough—”
“I’m nearly twenty-one!”
“As I was saying, when you’re mature enough, and when we’re not at war, perhaps we’ll start taking your wants into consideration. In the meantime, pack your bags. We’re going.”
It started the next day. Plane after plane flew into Lae, the constant whir of the propellers causing Amelia to jolt every time they whooshed past. Amelia hid near her Moth, watching as hordes of women and children – all friends of her mother, of their family – boarded with nothing but a suitcase in hand. They were allowed thirty pounds each, fifteen for children. An entire life condensed down to a mere valise. Amelia managed to dodge the first few planes, hiding out in the hangars and avoiding being where she was told to be while the planes were leaving. But she sensed her mother was becoming agitated by Amelia’s sneakiness; Ruth’s cigarette consumption had nearly doubled overnight.
As Amelia tinkered on her Moth, she wondered why she’d hadn’t seen Daniel since they last flew. She figured he must’ve been busy with evacuation flights, but thought he would’ve sought her out by now, especially since Z-day had been announced. They needed to find a way for her to stay, or for him to come with her … either way, they had to remain together. She polished the rudder as the Junker Pat came in for landing, creeping towards the terminal where more women and children were gathered.
“There you are,” a voice said, causing Amelia to flinch. It was a voice she knew all too well. She turned to see her mother standing there, suitcase in one hand, a pair of gloves in the other. Sofia was standing behind her in a pair of white Harlequin sunglasses and matching wide-brimmed hat. “Time to go now.”
Goosepimples crept up Amelia’s skin. “I … I’m not ready yet. I haven’t packed.”
Her mother offered one of her signature smiles. “Not to worry, I packed for you.”
Amelia noticed that Sofia was holding two suitcases. “But—”
“No buts, Amelia,” her mother replied. “We’re going. Now.”
“What about Evelyn? I’m not going without saying goodbye—”
“We said our goodbyes before she left for Salamaua. You were too busy avoiding us, so looks like you’ve missed out.” Amelia’s heart shrank. How could her mother be so cold, not even allowing her to say goodbye to her sister? It could be the last time she ever saw her … saw him. “And before you say ‘Daniel’,” her mother pressed on, “your father received this letter from him.” She handed Amelia a sealed envelope with her name on it. She stared at it briefly, wondering why Daniel would write a letter instead of seeking her out.
Amelia,
Please don’t put up a fight when the time comes to go. You must leave. There is no future for us. I’m sorry but it’s better for us both if we end things here. Try to understand.
Daniel.
She stared at it, unwilling to believe Daniel’s words. How could he be so dismissive, when only days ago he’d declared his love? It couldn’t be true.
“He … he didn’t write this,” Amelia stuttered.
“Is it not his handwriting?” her mother replied.
It was. “Still, I don’t believe it. Dad must’ve forced his hand—”
“Don’t be so naïve, Amelia. Are you really willing to risk your safety, your reputation, for someone who clearly doesn’t feel the same? Daniel doesn’t love you … not the way you love him.” Amelia opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say. Her mother’s words held some truth. Didn’t they? “Please … get on that plane before it’s too late.”
“Okay,” Amelia replied, not believing she was being so agreeable. “Let me finish up here—”
“Now, Amelia.”
“Give me a minute, Mum!” Amelia shouted, matching her mother’s tone. “It’s not as easy for me to say goodbye.”
“Make it quick.” Amelia’s mother turned towards the terminal where her husband was waiting for them.
Amelia rested her head against the aircraft. Could she really end things like that? Was that really the way Daniel felt? The words were as plain as day, but the sentiment felt wrong, unlike Daniel’s character. He’d never be so cruel. She had to do something. She couldn’t go without knowing how he really felt. Who knew what was going to happen? How long it could take for her to get back? She couldn’t fly away without ever seeing him again, could she? Fly away? She bit her lip as she watched her father hug her mother goodbye, wondering how they made it looked so easy, her mother’s face still unreadable.
It was because they didn’t have a love like hers and Daniel’s, a love born out of friendship. Their love had been forced; they’d met after the Great War, when couples were desperate to unite as a way to mask the pain. Amelia saw the way they interacted with each other, their lack of warmth for one another. Theirs was a necessary love; so many young men had been lost in that war that Ruth had been forced to accept George as her husband. And while Amelia admired her parent’s tenacity – her mother had been one of the first white women to endure the harshness of this land – she wanted more than that, more than the stage production of her parents’ lives. Looking at them now, she could see how cold they were to each other, bodies rigid and faces unmoving. Nothing compared to the couple next them, that pilot named Parer who was hugging his wife Nance and their three children goodbye. The family was cocooned within each other, emotions pouring out as they held on, the final goodbye breaking them. She couldn’t go without having that with Daniel.
She glanced up at her Moth, wondering if what she was about to do was wise. It’d only make things worse, make her mother’s dislike for Daniel stronger, but she no longer cared. She had to start living by her own rules.
Amelia jumped into the rear cockpit, flicked the ignition and pumped the thrust, before hopping back out to wind the prop. She pushed it down once, but the blades didn’t go beyond a single rotation. She normally had a local to do this part for her, but gave a little thanks to her father for once showing her how to do it herself. She pushed the prop down again, adding a little more thrust this time, but it remained still. Scratching her head, she wondered if this was perhaps God’s way of telling her not to go – to leave with her mother instead.
No. She wouldn’t give up so easily. Not when it came to Daniel. She took a deep breath and tried one more time, arms pushing down with all their strength. The plane roared to life, and a shiver shot up her spine. She moved the wedges away from the wheels, hopped into the rear seat and steered the plane towards the top of the runway, passing her mother, who was staring back with her mouth wide open.
Amelia’s heart raced – there was no going back now. Her mother waved her gloves, but Amelia thrust the plane forward, the tiny Moth picking up speed, faster and faster up the runway. The locals ran after her, yelling and waving, and she couldn’t help but laugh, amused by the absurdity of the situation, again questioning if she should stop … but when she looked ahead again and saw Salamaua in the distance, her beloved isthmus calling out to her, she knew there was no going back.
She shifted the throttle back, and the plane took flight, the boundless blue ocean at the end of the runway edging further away as the endless blue sky swallowed her up, while Lae trailed behind her, nothing but a tiny speck of sand.