The train rattled north, the carriage shaking around each bend. Amelia sat in a window seat, her posture stiff and ankles crossed behind her. She watched as Sydney sank further and further away, the whistling of the train’s engines steaming ahead. It was hard to believe she’d been back in Australia for two months now. There’d been no word from Daniel or her father.
When Amelia arrived back in Sydney, her mother had met her with little emotion. She gave Amelia her usual look of disdain, while fussing over Evelyn and ushering her off for immediate medical attention. Amelia suspected her mother’s anger was more at being defied than at Amelia’s staying behind, and the tension between them was so palpable it was like a bulging vein. She couldn’t understand why her mother wasn’t overcome with relief that both her daughters had been evacuated safely, no matter the circumstances. Her apologies seemed to make no difference. Ruth hardly cared, or wouldn’t show it if she did.
When Amelia got off the train twenty minutes later at Lindfield station, the sight overwhelmed her. Masses of people, men and women, all dressed in the RAAF and WAAAF uniform, the women in pale-blue shirts with navy blazers, skirts, ties and berets. She shuffled out of the station with them to the adjacent bus terminal, and they piled into overcrowded, stinking, hot buses that wheezed along to Bradfield Park, where she and hundreds of other recruits reported for their first day of training.
It’d seemed in the days following the Darwin bombings that all Australians had the same idea. Everyone felt compelled to do something. Amelia had secured her nursing certification and immediately enlisted, and she’d received orders to report to training the following week. At least she’d be close to the aeroplanes, even if she couldn’t fly them. Evelyn had also enlisted, but was told to return home to rest, as she was still emaciated from their journey. Even Sofia stepped up to the plate, forgoing her plans to be a debutante and joining the Red Cross instead. With still no news from their father – or from Daniel – the women were more determined than ever to do their part.
After Amelia received her service and hut numbers, she reported to her drill instructor, a tall, lanky fellow with red hair and freckly skin. Amelia stepped forward to introduce herself, extending her hand, but was immediately told to step in line.
“Ladies,” the drill instructor said. “I’m Section Officer Mitchell, your commanding officer for the next four weeks. We’ll begin with the basic march sequence, which I’m sure you’re all clever enough to manage.”
Amelia took her place towards the front, figuring she had to get herself noticed if she was ever to get sent back to New Guinea. She stiffened her posture, arms firm by her side, and looked at the back of the girl’s head in front of her.
A group of RAAF blokes were watching and heckling them. “Looks like we’ve been issued women instead of blankets!” one of the men yelled out. The others erupted into laughter as the women held their stance.
Officer Mitchell did nothing to stop them, yelling instead, “Now lift your feet, you lot of crabs, and if you swing your arms, I’ll cut them off! Left. Left. Left, right, left. Left. Left. Left, right, left.”
The words echoed in Amelia’s ear. She took a step with the left foot, but her stride was too long and she stumbled.
“Sister McKenzie!” Officer Mitchell roared. “Are you with us or are you off with the fairies?”
The RAAF blokes chuckled. “Think the bird is off with the bloody fairies.”
Officer Mitchell paid the men no attention, but said to Amelia instead, “Let me know if you have two right legs and I’ll make a fortune.”
Amelia bit her tongue, focusing on the pain of her teeth pressing into her flesh rather than the constant berating. She wanted to yell at them: at Officer Mitchell, for singling her out, and at the men for being lazy sods. What did they know about flying? What the difference was between a Dash and Junker? Nothing, probably. But she couldn’t say anything, no longer being allowed an opinion. She shot the men a look and nearly fell into the girl in front of her again.
Then she realised who was laughing at her. Tom?
His lips curled into one of his ridiculous smiles – he’d known it was her the entire time. She turned her attention back to her steps, determined to get this right if it killed her.
“You’ve got four weeks until your passing-out parade, where you’ll be given your station locations,” Officer Mitchell said when the marching was complete. “You’ll likely remain in New South Wales or be sent to Queensland.”
“What about overseas?” Amelia asked.
“Fat chance of that happening,” Officer Mitchell replied.
“But surely they’re in need of our assistance in Port Moresby?”
“Absolutely not. Minister Drakeford has made it clear all Air Force women will remain strictly on Australian shores. Now …”
But Amelia was no longer listening; a recurring thought was running through her head. She’d never make it back. She wanted to do whatever she could to help, but couldn’t it be somewhere where they needed her? Her knowledge of New Guinea, her time spent there, her understanding of the language and the culture had to stand for something? Maybe Tom would know. He was leaning back on his heels, hands in his pockets, waiting for Amelia to approach him.
“Sister McKenzie,” he said with a salute as Amelia walked up to him.
Amelia saluted in return. “Tom. What in God’s name are you doing here?”
He looked at his feet. “Seems as if conscription is still a thing.”
Amelia smirked, pleased he couldn’t get out of this one. “Do you know where you’ll be posted?”
“Not yet. Though I suspect it’ll be New Guinea. They’re sending all available troops up there.”
“Not women,” Amelia mumbled.
“Nor should they. Look how much trouble we went to, to get you birds out. We sure as hell don’t want to send you back to that mess so quickly.”
“You realise Daniel and my father are stuck in that mess?” She was still hopeful they were alive.
He pressed a hand to Amelia’s shoulder and offered a conciliatory smile. “That sort of thing suits Danny boi. They’ll put him to good use, I’m sure.”
“Have you heard anything … from Daniel?”
“I’m the last person the government should be contacting about Daniel.”
“You’re his brother—”
“Only by accident,” he nearly spat back. “Do you know how offensive it would be if the government sent a letter to my mother’s home regarding the half-caste her husband fathered?”
Amelia crossed her arms. Perhaps she needed to give Tom a break. Whilst it wasn’t Daniel’s fault what his father did to Tom’s mother, it would’ve been heartbreaking for her and Tom. “I didn’t think about it like that.”
Tom’s face reddened. “That’s the problem, Amelia. You don’t think. You live in a fairyland where we all get along. No thought for past actions or their repercussions, no thought for standards or decorum, no thought for anyone other than yourself and your utopian views.”
Except, as always, Tom couldn’t help being an arrogant prick. Amelia pointed a finger in his face and said, “Well, you, Thomas Carmichael, are still living in the last century, where women are expected to obey their husbands, where men are more concerned about the size of their manhood than doing the right thing, and where you’re so blinded by prejudices that you can’t see something good right in front of you.”
He tipped his head back in laughter. “That’s true. The size of my manhood is very serious business, so thank you for acknowledging that. As for Daniel … he’s where he belongs.”
“How’s training going?” Ruth asked. Her attitude towards Amelia had shifted slightly in the weeks since Amelia had enlisted, as if she was finally satisfied with her daughter’s choices. They were sitting at the dining room table of their Mosman home, her mother at the head, with Evelyn and Sofia on either side and Amelia in the chair across – her father’s chair. The table was loaded with the pastries and preserves Amelia had purchased from the bakery on her way home from training that morning. Between living on rations whilst evacuating and the ghastly food at training, Amelia had learned to appreciate a good meal. But since her mother had yet to readjust to life without house boys – content with a cup of tea and piece of toast most mornings – Amelia had used the last of her rations to splurge.
“Fine,” Amelia replied, as she lathered a scone with butter and jam. She reached for the silver coffee pot and inhaled the aroma as she poured the steaming dark liquid into her mother’s gold-trimmed bone china cup.
Her mother looked up from her newspaper, eyes crinkling around the edges, freshly formed wrinkles having surfaced in the months since she left New Guinea. She was wearing one of her frocks from Lae – the brown swing dress with embroidered burnt-orange flowers – which was most unusual, seeing as she normally preferred to wear a new dress. Amelia supposed the rations were catching up with her too.
“Surely the Air Force is better than ‘fine’?” her mother asked.
“It’d be better if they put me in a bloody cockpit,” Amelia replied, shoving the scone into her mouth and savouring the sticky taste of raspberry.
“Language, Amelia! Not to mention manners.”
Amelia licked the jam from her fingers. “Sorry. But it’s true. Our home has been taken, practically handed to the Japanese on a silver platter. Haven’t you read the papers? They sailed into Lae and Salamaua without any opposition, any care from the Australian Government.”
“I’m well aware of what’s happening up there. I spent weeks waiting for news of you and Evelyn after that foolish decision you made.” Her mother fixed her with such a penetrating stare that she couldn’t help but look away.
“The government is doing the best they can,” Sofia added in a small voice.
Amelia scoffed. “Best they can? You really believe that?”
Sofia looked at her nails. “You know what it’s like up there. The people—”
“Mum’s right, Meels,” Evelyn interjected. “Most of our boys are still fighting in Europe. Australia’s doing what they can under the circumstances.”
Amelia wanted to scoff at Evelyn too, to tell her she was wrong – but when she looked at her older sister, who, despite the weeks of rest at home, looked weak and frail, Amelia didn’t have the heart to yell at her. Instead, she focused her frustrations back on Sofia and her mother.
“The people, when dealt with correctly, are New Guinea’s greatest strength. Exploit and abuse them, then they’ll abuse you back. But respect them, and they’ll return it to you tenfold.”
“Of course,” Evelyn said, reaching her hand across the table and placing it on Amelia’s. “The locals have done so much for us. We wouldn’t be here without them—”
“And yet we’re supposed to sit back and watch as they get blown to bits?”
“No,” her mother replied. “We’re supposed to do what you’re doing, what your sisters are doing, by helping out where we can—”
“The Red Cross is doing tremendous things,” Sofia interrupted, a similar smile to their mother’s sewn across her face. “Last week we raised fifty quid from our cake and quilt sales.”
“Whoop-de-do!” Amelia replied, her sister’s charm doing nothing for her. “It’s going to take a lot more than fifty quid to save New Guinea.”
Sofia huffed and crossed her arms.
“Amelia,” her mother said in a stern voice. “Don’t mock your sister. Every bit helps.”
“Oh please, Mum!” Amelia shot to standing and glared down at her family. “We all know that the only thing that helps – that really helps – is the men who are over there putting their lives on the line. Not a stupid fete or parade! If this government had any sense, they’d let us women help where it matters.”
Her mother pressed her fingers to her temple.
“And what about Daniel?” Amelia continued. “Dad? The government doesn’t give a toss about them! For all we know they’re lying dead somewhere in the bush, eaten alive by the Kukukuku.”
Sofia gasped. “Do you really think … Daddy’s been … ea-eat-en?”
“Of course not,” her mother replied as she squeezed Sofia’s hand. “Amelia, will you please calm yourself? Your little outburst isn’t helping anyone.”
“The time’s over for being calm. If we don’t—”
“For Christ’s sake, Amelia!” her mother yelled, slamming her cup on the table, spilling tea all over the saucer and linen. “Enough with these tantrums of yours. It doesn’t do any of us any good!”
Amelia opened her mouth and then closed it again. She hated being reprimanded like a naughty schoolgirl. Didn’t anyone care what was happening in New Guinea? They’d heard nothing of Daniel and her father for months now, nothing of the state of the country or what they were doing to hold back the Japanese. Australians had been called up to do their part, and yet they continued to be kept in the dark like children. She was going to take her seat again when the doorbell rang.
“Who’d be calling so early?” Evelyn said as she looked to the door.
Amelia peeked outside the window. “It’s a man … in a suit.” She looked back at her mother, whose face blanched.
“Only one?” her mother asked, voice small.
Amelia nodded.
Her mother pulled her shoulders back. “Let him in then.”
Amelia toddled to the entryway and rested her hand on the door, heart racing. It’s a man in a suit, nothing more.
“Mrs McKenzie?” the man said with a stony face when Amelia opened the door.
“That’s my mother,” Amelia replied, chin held high – until she glanced at the letter in his hands, which caused it to tremble.
“Is she home?” he asked.
She stepped to the side. He walked inside and paused at the entryway to the dining room. Amelia had wanted to follow him, but she couldn’t move. Her legs had seized, heavy like wood. She watched the man’s back, the way he stood rigid and tall.
He cleared his throat, removed his hat and said again, “Mrs McKenzie?”
“Yes?” her mother’s voice echoed up the hall.
“Mrs McKenzie, I am with the government and have news of your husband.”
The man paused, waiting for a reply, but nothing came. Amelia imagined what her mother’s face looked like at that moment – jaw set and lips pressed tight, eyes cold and unwavering. Was it surprising that even a moment like this couldn’t draw Ruth McKenzie out of her shell? Amelia followed the man up the hall and got to the dining room just in time to see him handing her mother a letter. Amelia sprang into action. She wouldn’t let her mother have it. She rushed forward, nearly knocking the man over as she snatched the letter from his hands.
“Amelia!” her mother said curtly, but Amelia didn’t care, knowing her mother wouldn’t lower herself to snatching it back from her. She took a few steps backwards and stared at it. Her father’s fate rested in the small envelope.
“Well, go on then,” her mother said.
They were all watching her. Sofia’s lips trembled, while Evelyn wore a small smile, a look of hope. The eternal optimist. Her mother’s arms were crossed, her lips pursed. She raised her eyebrows in impatience, but resting behind her eyes was something else. Fear. The same fear that had encased her eyes in dark circles and wrinkles, like crevices allowing a glimpse of her soul.
Hands shaking, Amelia opened the letter. She skimmed over the official details at the top, desperate for the guts – the all-capital letters in blue typewriter ink.
IT DESIRES ME TO TELL YOU STOP CIVILIAN OF LAE/SALAMAUA GEORGE MCKENZIE + OTHERS EXPECTED TO BE EVACUATED BY AIR VIA WAU FAILED ARRIVE DESIGNATED TIME STOP DEEMED MISSING STOP ALL PLANES DESTROYED STOP WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN STOP SECURITY CANNOT DIVULGE PLACES & TIMES STOP FURTHER INFORMATION FORTHCOMING STOP GOVT REP. WILL FOLLOW WITH RESIDENT CALL STOP SINCERE SYMPATHY MINISTER FOR THE ARMY.
Amelia’s hands went limp. She watched in slow motion as the letter fell to the floor. The three of them stared at her, waiting for her to say something, but she couldn’t repeat the words she’d read. She’d known it for weeks: that her father and Daniel were missing. Lost in the jungle, the wilds of New Guinea their only hope.
Her mother scooped up the letter. “Missing,” she eventually said, barely above a whisper.
Sofia wailed and Evelyn stifled a sob.
The government man cleared his throat again. “Not just missing, ma’am.” He paused, making sure to look everyone in the eye. “He’s presumed dead.”
Dead. Their worst fears had come true. Amelia’s chest ached. Her throat burned. The room was spinning, and yet she was perfectly still, trying to absorb the word that’d changed everything. Dead. Her eyes welled with tears, but she blinked them back. She knew that once she opened the floodgates, there’d be no stopping them.
Evelyn was crying, quiet tears rolling down her face. She was solemn, and yet reserved – like their mother. Across from her, Sofia’s eyes were puffy and red, streaks of mascara cascading down her cheeks. Sofia had never had a problem showing her emotions, like their father.
“Then it’s not certain?” her mother asked. “That he’s dead. It’s only presumed?”
“Yes, ma’am. But—”
Her mother held her hand up. “That’ll be all.”
“But don’t you want details on what happened?” the man asked.
She looked to the letter and then up again. “It says he failed to make his evacuation flight.”
The man stiffened. “Correct. There was an attack … on Wau. Planes, houses and even a few people were taken out—”
“But not George?”
“No. Mr McKenzie took off with a group of miners that were still in the area at the urging of our local force. An Allied force.”
“The Volunteer Rifles?” Amelia asked eagerly, wondering if Daniel had finally been able to join.
The man looked at Amelia. “I can’t divulge that information. All we know is the group is missing. We’ve had no word. The government wanted you to know that it is a grave situation and to prepare yourselves for the worst.”
“The worst,” her mother said in a sarcastic tone. “Always the worst.”
The man scratched his cheek. “Well, yes, it is New Guinea after all.”
Her mother offered a half smile. “Was that everything?”
“Uh. I suppose.”
“Good. Amelia, please see him out.”
“But … Mum?”
“Now.”
Amelia ushered the man to the door, desperate to get back to her mother and have it out. How could she be so callous? To show indifference when told her husband was dead? What sort of person does that? She didn’t know, but she wasn’t going to put up with it anymore. She stormed back into the dining room, to find her mother upright at the table, reading the paper, teacup resting between her index and thumb, pinky flicked outwards.
“Honestly?” Amelia said, with a hand on her hip.
Her mother glanced up. “Pardon?”
“That man …” Amelia paused, trying to steady her voice, “told us Dad is dead – and you’re reading the paper?”
Her mother placed her cup down. “No. He said your father is missing and presumed dead.”
The heat was rising in Amelia’s body. “So, because he said ‘presumed’ you won’t take it seriously?”
Her mother exhaled. “If I had a shilling for every time someone told me your father was missing over the years, I’d be a very rich woman.”
Amelia shook her head. “This isn’t ‘someone’, Mum. This is the Australian Government telling you Dad is dead!”
“Presumed.”
“Honestly!”
“She’s right, Mum,” Evelyn added. “We should take him seriously.”
Her mother glared at Evelyn. “Why?”
“Because he’s from the government,” Evelyn said slowly.
Her mother scoffed. “Amelia said it herself. The government doesn’t know what they’re doing up there, so why in God’s name should I believe them?”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t make such a grave claim if they weren’t certain,” Sofia said, her face red and blotchy.
Her mother threw her napkin on the table. “The government doesn’t know a thing! Believe what you want, but until they turn up on my doorstep with a body, I will continue to believe that my husband is alive. No one knows New Guinea better than he does. No one! And God knows George McKenzie won’t bow down to the Japs. He’d rather be skinned alive and eaten by natives than surrender to those mongrels.”
Her mother scowled before gracefully departing the room as if she had somewhere better to be.
“Well, good then!” Amelia threw her arms up in the air. “We’ll continue to carry on with our perfect lives, like we did back home, like Mum’s always taught us! No worries if Dad is missing, dead somewhere in the jungle … as long as we look the part, then all is well.”
She glared at her sisters, heart pounding, but they didn’t say anything. “Unbelievable!” she yelled as she stormed out of the room.
Amelia stared at the cloudless sky, mesmerised by the pale-blue expanse. Instead of lying in her mother’s garden, she wished she could be up there, soaring through its never-ending reach, looping and gliding in her Moth. She took a drag of the cigarette that was burning idly between her fingers, and was horrified when her lungs exploded into a raging cough. She rolled onto her side, convinced her chest was going to burst; her body was heaving with such force she was sure she’d never breathe again. When she finally caught her breath, she stubbed the cigarette into the grass and vowed to never touch another.
“You should be happy smoking doesn’t agree with you,” her mother said. Amelia looked up to find her standing behind her. “Filthy habit.”
Amelia stomped to the wrought-iron table on the patio, picked up the cigarette case she’d stolen from Sofia earlier and pulled out another.
Her mother plucked the cigarette out of Amelia’s mouth. “You always were my wilful one.” Amelia curled her lip and reached for another, but she snatched the case away. “Don’t test me, dear. Not today.” She lit the cigarette for herself and sat on one of the wrought-iron chairs. “Sit.”
Amelia huffed as her mother sucked on the cigarette, chest expanding easily. She blew the smoke out the side of her mouth. “Why do you insist on challenging me?”
Amelia crossed her arms.
Her mother shook her head and laughed. “Oh, Amelia. Just because I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, doesn’t mean I don’t care. You’ve a lot to learn about life.”
“I know more than you think.”
“Perhaps you do. This war will certainly teach you things … force you to discover a side of yourself you never knew existed.”
“It already has. I learned a few things trekking up the coast.”
Her mother took another drag and narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps you did. It certainly isn’t an easy place to survive. But if anyone can do it, it’s George McKenzie. Be it the Japs, or the Kukukuku or any of the other savage cannibals that lurk in those jungles, your father can handle it … has handled it. He pioneered those lands, along with Harry, all those years ago.”
“And what about Daniel? Do you think he’s alive?” Amelia’s skin tingled as she waited for her mother to reply – for her confirmation, her belief that Daniel was okay.
“Harry taught Daniel everything he knows.” She shook her head and laughed. “He was a funny old bloke, that Harry. Didn’t care about race or colour … thought we were all one being. He brought out the best in everyone, your father especially. I’d never seen two Scotsmen so different, and yet still the best of mates. Your father hasn’t been the same since his death. I guess that’s why he’s taken to Daniel so much. Wants to make sure that boy has a place, even with all his shortcomings.” Amelia bit her tongue as her mother stubbed out her cigarette. “Do I think Daniel is alive? Yes. That boy is as determined as you, even more because he’s black.”
“Half,” Amelia said.
“Same difference.”
“Is that why you hate him?”
“I don’t hate him. I just don’t want him anywhere near my daughter.”
“Because he’s black?”
“Yes, Amelia. Because he’s black! It’s hard enough as it is being a woman. And if you really do plan on becoming a pilot after the war, you’ll face even greater difficulties. Do you think I want you to be held back by him as well?”
“But don’t you see, Mum? Daniel’s never held me back; he only wants me to shine.”
“Being with Daniel will pose huge challenges—”
“But what if I’m okay with that?”
Her mother shook her head. “You think that now, but life would be very difficult. Cut your losses and be rid of him once and for all. This is where you belong.”