March 1943
Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
Junie’s slightly sweaty palms clenched and unclenched around the strap of her handbag as she tried to adopt a cool and composed expression.
‘Perhaps you should try a smaller course of studies at first. Have you considered teaching?’ asked Professor Rickard, looking over her letter with little enthusiasm.
‘No, law is definitely my preferred choice,’ she said carefully. It seemed her first battle had commenced even before she’d attended a single lecture.
It was raining outside in a cool, half-misted drizzle and Junie had experienced the full impact of the university’s grandeur as she’d made her way to the main quad. It was both beautiful and intimidating: Gothic spires pointed to the sky as if daring those who entered to achieve and the lawns were immaculate green carpets – a sumptuous welcome to those worthy enough to be here. She’d had vague notions of Brontë novels as she watched a single crow circling the turrets, and it was the thought of those wonderful sisters that had pulled her shoulders back and propelled her forwards. This is not a man’s domain. Intellect belongs to us all.
But that defiance had been immediately challenged as she’d crossed the quad and noticed she was, in fact, the only woman around. And there were many men in uniform; they’d spoken in murmurs, sending her wary looks, and Junie had felt the ambiguity of university politics surround her. Sydney University may be a modern place in terms of the war but tradition still underlined every other aspect. By the time she’d sat in Professor Rickard’s visitor’s chair she knew an opinion of her had already been formed, and not a favourable one. She was a married woman with a baby at home, wealthier than most and without the ‘need’ for an education. She may have won her case with Ernest and her parents but this was a bigger hurdle – if she wanted to study law she’d need to show this man something more than what her papers confirmed.
‘Law is heavily dominated by male students – in fact, I think we only have a handful of women in the entire school and most not quite as, er, young as yourself. You may find it uncomfortable being around so many men.’
‘Please, professor, I am a married lady and I’ve grown up with three brothers. I am quite comfortable, I assure you.’
He looked over his glasses at her very fashionable – and now much regretted – bright yellow hat and cleared his throat. ‘It is a very heavy workload. I’m not sure you understand the magnitude of what you’d be undertaking,’ he warned her, gesturing at the rows of heavy tomes that lined his office walls.
‘My husband studied law, so I am well aware of what it entails; besides I’m no stranger to study. I read almost constantly anyway so I might as well find some reward for the habit.’ She tried a charming smile on him but it failed to crack his stony expression.
‘How did you do in your leaving certificate again?’ he asked, flipping through the paperwork almost dismissively.
‘I came first.’
‘And in which school was that?’
Junie pinned him with her most determined look. ‘I came first in the state.’
Professor Rickard stopped his paper shuffling and there were a few seconds of surprised silence, filled only with the soft patter of rain and the tick of the grandfather clock in the corner.
‘You won’t receive any special treatment.’
She met his stare with another attempt at composure, abandoning charming smiles altogether as the clock continued its metred journey. ‘I don’t expect any.’
‘Well, I suppose we could let you try a semester then. See how you go.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Junie responded calmly but her heart raced and it was pounding hard against her ribcage by the time she stepped out into the still grey but now seemingly spectacular day. Along the magnificent stone corridors and out into that magical rain, Junie walked then ran, tossing her hat high and twirling in the silvery world around her, arms wide to embrace this wondrous place, this font of precious knowledge. A world of learning – hers for the taking.
‘Excuse me, miss,’ said a voice nearby and she stopped her twirling, pushing her damp hair back from her face.
‘You seemed to have dropped this rather extraordinary hat,’ a young man in uniform said. He had an engaging grin that distracted the eye from the metal frame on his leg and Junie took her hat from him, a little embarrassed.
‘I, er, just got accepted into law,’ she explained, feeling rather silly.
‘Ah. A perfectly valid reason to throw one’s headwear to the elements. Harry’s the name, victim of law studies too, I’m afraid.’
Junie shook his hand, deciding she liked him immediately. ‘Perhaps I’ll see you around here,’ Junie said, putting her hat back on.
‘Not likely, I’m afraid. I’m, uh, just visiting a friend today. The School of Law is actually in the city, near the law courts. Hasn’t anyone told you?’
‘Oh. Is it?’ She felt naïve and quite a bit disappointed. How she’d longed to sit on this grass and stare at the graceful old buildings of the main campus. But nothing could spoil this day and she found her smile again. ‘Goodness, you must think me a very unlikely candidate for a lawyer so far. I’ve done nothing but look ridiculous.’
‘On the contrary, Miss…?’
‘Farthington. Junie Farthington.’
‘I don’t think I’ve seen a more refreshing sight in this stuffy place since I arrived.’
Junie blushed, adjusting her hat. ‘Well, thank you for your assistance, Harry. Hopefully I’ll still see you around at the actual School of Law.’
‘I’m sure you will.’
Harry said goodbye by throwing his own hat in the air, making her laugh. A university enrolment and a possible friend already, she congratulated herself. Not a bad start to academic life.
A week later, Junie wasn’t anywhere near as confident as she sat in the classroom awaiting the first lesson. She hadn’t seen Harry about as yet and was feeling very lonely as the only woman in her class. Quite a few of the students were in uniform and Junie was trying to figure out how they attended as part of the army, eavesdropping on every conversation she could. Unfortunately, this also allowed her to hear their comments about her and she was now wishing she had worn a less fitted blouse. At least she had left the extraordinary hat at home.
‘Morning,’ said Professor Rickard, entering, and the room immediately went silent. ‘Welcome to Legal History. I trust you all brought your text books.’
Junie picked hers up and placed it in her lap. She had only read through Lectures in Legal History once so far and hoped she wouldn’t be called upon for any answers to questions.
‘In the first few lectures we will be covering the origins of Norman Law through to the Magna Carta. Can anyone outline the latter in a few brief words?’ Professor Rickard held the chalk expectantly and looked around the half-filled lecture theatre. No-one volunteered as he wrote Magna Carta in large letters across the top of the board and turned to wait again.
‘What does it mean?’ he said with a sigh.
‘Great Charter,’ said one man, not in uniform, who sported thick glasses on the end of his long nose.
‘Correct, Bartholomew, however a Latin major doesn’t make one an instant historian.’
‘Doesn’t hurt,’ said Bartholomew and there were several chuckles around the room.
‘No, it doesn’t hurt. Neither does knowing the most basic facts about this subject prior to classes commencing. Come now gentlemen, the Magna Carta.’
‘Excuse me, sir, there is a lady present,’ one man in a corporal’s uniform reminded him and Junie thought his smile more of a smirk than anything else.
‘Indeed. Apologies, Mrs Farthington. I see you have your book with you. Had a glance through it yet, have you?’ Professor Rickard moved towards her, not seeming too interested in the answer.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Perhaps you can enlighten us then?’ dared the smirking man.
‘Oh, I don’t think we need apply too much pressure to the lady on her first day,’ Professor Rickard said.
Junie’s eyes narrowed at the smirker and she found her voice. ‘Please, sir, the Magna Carta was established in 1215 under King John of England to form a peace treaty between himself and rogue barons at Runnymede. It effectively states that everybody, including the king, is bound to adhere to English Common Law.’
The professor raised his eyebrows. ‘And the relevance to us being?’
‘Well, it’s considered the founding document for English constitutional development and thereby modern Australian law.’
The smirker was no longer smirking. In fact, the whole room was staring at her in stunned silence and Junie couldn’t help but feel slightly smug.
‘The lady is quite correct,’ the professor said after a pause. ‘Write that down. Magna Carta: the founding document for English constitutional development. I want one thousand words on it by tomorrow.’
The lecture moved on without further event but Junie knew she’d won another battle in her war of words that morning, because despite the fact she was the only woman in a room full of men, everyone in it was bound by the same common law. She had the suffragettes to thank for that.
And after over seven hundred years, common law was, still, a great charter.
‘I hear you caused quite a stir today,’ said a voice nearby.
Junie turned, pleased to see Harry at last as she sat alone in the cafeteria eating her lunch.
‘Well, at least he picked something I had read about.’
‘I’m sure that is quite an extensive knowledge base to draw from. Do you mind?’ he asked, pointing at the seat opposite. ‘Not at all. Be my guest,’ she invited and he sat smoothly, despite his leg brace. ‘I think quite a few of them resent my being here.’
‘You’re always going to have turkeys on the farm,’ Harry said cheerfully. ‘Just think how wonderfully you’ll be able to stuff them once you’re done.’
Junie laughed. ‘I think I will be happy just to pass one day.’
‘Just pass? I think you’ll do better than that. What’s this I hear about you topping the state in your leaving certificate?’
‘Oh well, that was a few years ago now…’
‘How many?’
‘Well, two.’
‘Goodness me, I’m surprised you can still read.’
Junie laughed again. ‘It feels a lot longer.’
‘Yes, marriage and a child too.’
Junie looked at him quizzically.
‘Professor Rickard is my father,’ he confessed.
‘Oh,’ Junie said. ‘That explains why you were over at the main campus.’
‘Yes, among other things. My father’s office is there. I don’t know why he doesn’t just move it over here to where all the action is, but still.’
‘Are many of the lecturers based here?’
Harry nodded. ‘Most are practising. There’s a lot of double career work going on in the School of Law – pays to stay near the courts.’
‘As long as you’re on the right side of the room.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ he said, picking up the menu. ‘What’s good today?’
‘The chicken was nice. Why are so many students in uniform?’ she asked, diverted by the arrival of the smirker, among others.
Harry shrugged. ‘Army needs lawyers too. Especially when the war ends and everyone starts fighting for the leftovers. Speaking of which, do you want that bread roll?’
‘No, have it,’ she said, eyes widening as he tore at it hungrily. ‘Doesn’t the professor feed you?’
‘Mrs Professor does but I’m never full,’ he said between mouthfuls. ‘Chicken,’ he managed to say to the waitress, pointing at the menu.
‘Why weren’t you in class today?’ she asked.
‘I’m only doing it part time. Besides, I’m in second year. Second degree too, actually.’
‘But you’re so young!’
‘I’m twenty-six,’ he said, ‘and it was only a maths degree.’
‘Only. I can just imagine. But why do another?’
Harry gave a bread-filled grin. ‘I’m a masochist. Hello, here’s trouble,’ he said as Bartholomew joined them. ‘Bartholomew Frewe, may I present Mrs Junie Farthington…’
‘No need. She will forever be Magna Carta to me,’ Bartholomew said with a haughty wave but there was amusement in his expression as he lowered his long, skinny frame to sit with them. ‘What’s that? Bread?’
‘Get the chicken,’ Harry suggested.
Bartholomew gestured to the waitress for a second serve then and turned to Junie. ‘So, what’s a good-looking sort like you doing in a dreary place like this?’ he asked, pushing at his ever-falling glasses.
‘Enjoying the common law.’
‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Enjoyment might be a stretch. Can’t believe you’ve already been browsing this bloody thing,’ he said, examining her copy of Lectures in Legal History.
‘It’s actually quite fascinating –’
‘I find it difficult to imagine anything remotely fascinating associated with it,’ Bartholomew said sceptically.
‘You don’t sound very enthusiastic. Bored already?’ Junie asked. ‘I’m a Latin major, which leaves me two choices: medicine or law. And I can’t stand the sight of blood.’
‘That why you’re not in uniform?’ asked the smirker as he walked past, wearing his now expected derisive expression.
‘Brian Chester,’ Harry told Junie. ‘Just ignore him, Bart. It’s not like he’s going to last very long anyway. Wouldn’t know his arse from his elbow, as my granddad used to say.’
Bartholomew cleared his throat, slightly red-faced. ‘I suppose you’re wondering –’
‘None of my business,’ Junie said. ‘You were saying about the text?’
There was a flicker of gratitude over the wire rims but he was prevented from responding by Harry.
‘Actually, there is one very interesting fact about it: it’s written by one of my father’s friends, Victor Windeyer. Ignore the initials. He prefers Victor to William,’ Harry said as Junie looked at the author’s name, WJV Windeyer. ‘Quite a serious type of fellow, I thought, but Dad says he’s a good man. He’s in the military right now, a commander.’
Something clicked in Junie’s memory. ‘Wasn’t he in Tobruk?’
‘Certainly was. Had some important victories, although he lost his brother there –’
‘I lost my brother in Tobruk too,’ Junie said quietly, the old pain surfacing.
‘I am sorry,’ Harry said, pausing. Bartholomew looked uncomfortable and she moved the conversation on to spare them.
‘Quite an exceptional man this Windeyer, by the sounds of things.’
‘Yes, and now in charge of an entire brigade. Not sure if he’ll pursue a military or academic career on his return, but he’s sure to excel in either.’
‘Or both,’ suggested Bartholomew.
‘He obviously deserves it,’ Junie said. ‘I have to say, based on some of his writing, I can well believe he’s a natural commander.’
‘A leader that combines theory with a good dose of first-hand experience they say. “A page of history is worth a volume of logic,”’ Harry quoted. ‘That’s actually Holmes but I know Windeyer likes it.’
‘Depends what history you’re involved in,’ Bartholomew said. ‘Speaking of which, has Harry been letting you in on his top-secret secrets?’
‘No.’ Junie looked at Harry, who had buried his face in the book.
‘He’s the man of the moment over on campus. Come on, tell the pretty lady how you’re winning the war for us.’
‘Name, rank and serial number,’ came the mumbled reply.
‘Maths genius,’ Bartholomew whispered to Junie. ‘Secretive stuff to do with code breaking. MacArthur loves him – might adopt him at this rate.’
‘You really shouldn’t tell people,’ said the voice behind the book.
‘Aw, come on. It’s the best chance you’ve got with a girl like this!’
Junie felt her cheeks go pink for the second time in front of Harry. ‘Married woman,’ she reminded Bartholomew.
‘Ah, yes. Mrs Farthington. Is that why you’re here? To find out about the finer points of divorce? We won’t mind helping you study if so…’
‘Really! Are all law students as impudent as you?’ Junie said, pretending to be shocked.
Only she wasn’t pretending later on the ferry ride home, when that throwaway comment came and settled itself in for a long visit with her rabbit. Law was power, the one thing that had given Ernest the upper hand, but he wasn’t the only one who could learn how to use it.
Maybe one day the cards would even out, one day when they had that power in common.