New Constitution for the Commune known as Halfway to Eternity, 22 March 1973
1. Shares in the property known as Halfway to Eternity are to be allocated at market value. Or, in simple words: if you want to live here permanently, you buy a share.
2. The number of shares shall be limited to the number of dwellings that the council will approve. This is currently two, as well as studios and multiple-occupancy dwellings.
3. Every resident shall be required to pay an equal share in all rates, insurance and other costs, as agreed by the Residents Committee. A resident is defined as anyone who has lived at Halfway to Eternity for three or more months.
4. Only shareholders may vote on the Committee. Others’ views are welcomed.
5. Every shareowner is entitled to two hectares of land for personal use. The paddocks known as the ‘River Flats’ and ‘Orchard’ are for communal use. It is expected that every resident will help maintain them with at least four hours’ work each a week, as well as have access to their fruits and vegetables.
6. No more bloody goats.
7. Private property remains private unless the original owner agrees it will be communal. This includes Sam’s ute and Leafsong’s violin, and if you try to play it like a guitar again, Clifford, you’ll be singing soprano.
8. The new big shed is for communal use. All tools currently in the shed are for communal use and will be replaced by communal funds as they wear out. Note: Sam, get used to everyone borrowing your chainsaw, or keep it in your cottage.
9. Money earned by members is not for communal use, except as needed for communal costs.
10. All vegetables, fruit, eggs and other goods from Halfway to Eternity used at the café currently known as the Bluebell will be paid for at normal wholesale rates, the money deposited into communal funds. The café and its proceeds are otherwise in no way connected with the commune.
11. Composting toilets will be installed in each dwelling as soon as possible. Till then members are reminded that dunnies should be dug on the slope away from the river.
12. Nappy waste will not be used on the vegetable gardens. Ever. Hepatitis and worms may be natural, but not all of us want to share them.
LEAFSONG
You had to be careful with ginger roll. Beat the egg whites too much and it was dry; not enough and it was hard and flat. Roll it when it was warm and the cream filling soaked into the cake. But if the sponge was too cold, it cracked instead of rolling smoothly. The trick was to roll it up loosely with the help of a sheet of baking paper while it was still warm, leave it for a few minutes and then unroll it again (but don’t flatten it out) and allow it to cool properly before you put the whipped cream in it. Once it had been rolled once, it remembered to behave itself when it was rolled up again.
Leafsong had taken one glance at Scarlett’s white face and rigid fingers when she arrived at Dribble that afternoon to drop off a chicken casserole with leeks, carrots and potatoes to be reheated for dinner, and known exactly what was needed.
So now she beat eggs, five yolks blending with the caster sugar, while out in the living room Jed spoke urgently on the phone, first to Mrs Nancy Thompson and then to Matron Clancy, Scarlett waiting white and scared beside her.
Jed’s side of the conversation was mostly ‘Yes’, ‘I see’, ‘Yes’ . . . But Jed would explain it all when the phone calls were finished. Good news or bad. Jed never lied, though Leafsong wondered if others picked up the slight tension in Jed’s shoulders when she was withholding information that others would want.
Leafsong had just slid the mix onto the tray when the phone clicked down.
‘Well?’ demanded Scarlett.
Leafsong placed the sponge in the oven, which was where it needed to be for twelve minutes exactly, and hurried out to hold Scarlett’s cold hands in hers. Jed Kelly was good at most things, but not at knowing when someone needed to be hugged, or held.
‘First of all, don’t worry. Nancy can’t get on to the solicitor till Monday, but she’s pretty sure Mark what’s-his-name was right.’
Only pretty sure, thought Leafsong, watching Scarlett’s face. Scarlett too had noticed that ‘pretty sure’.
‘Your mother can’t make you live with her without going to court. And even if you were younger, a court would probably decide that you were better off here, not with a stranger.’
Probably. Not beyond doubt. Jed’s face was a lot more worried than her words let on.
Leafsong felt Scarlett stiffen. A mother who was a stranger. That was hard. As hard as having a mother who cared so deeply for herself that daughters were a nuisance, except when they were useful.
‘Jed?’
‘Yes, brat?’ Jed’s voice was gentle.
‘Who . . . who am I?’
Leafsong pushed Scarlett’s chair closer to the sofa, then put her arm about her shoulders, leaving Scarlett’s hands free for Jed to hold. Jed took the hint, and took them in hers.
‘You’re Scarlett Kelly-O’Hara of Dribble, who is astounding and wonderful and my sister. Mrs Nancy Thompson and Matron Moira Clancy are your registered guardians. Or do you mean who was Sharon Taylor?’
Scarlett nodded.
‘Okay.’ Leafsong could sense Jed weighing up how much to say, could see her face relax infinitesimally, showing she had decided to tell it all.
‘I don’t know much more than you, only what Nancy told me when I signed your transfer-of-residence permit when you came to live here.’
‘I . . . I didn’t know you had to do that.’
Jed shrugged. ‘It was just paperwork. Not stuff that mattered. Your full name used to be Sharon Ann Taylor. Your parents’ Christian names were on the guardianship papers, but I didn’t bother making a note of them. Does it matter?’
Scarlett shook her head. Leafsong slid into the kitchen to take the ginger sponge cake out, while Jed’s voice continued. ‘You came to River View from the Arncliffe Private Hospital, where you were born. You were six months old then.’
‘Why did River View take me?’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Jed.
‘I’ve wondered before.’ Scarlett’s voice was a small wisp of her usual one. ‘The youngest kid who’s come to River View since I’ve been there — except for Gavin — was three years old. Miss Sampson told me that’s because kids younger than that can’t respond to the therapies River View can offer. Why did River View take me so young?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Jed gently.
‘They probably thought I was an interesting case.’ Scarlett’s small voice was carefully matter-of-fact. ‘All the others are there because of thalidomide or polio or measles or a physical birth defect.’
Leafsong left the sponge to cool and came back into the room, and found Jed staring consideringly at Scarlett. ‘I don’t know why you came here so young. I think Nancy and Matron Clancy just fell in love with you, brat. People do, you know.’
Scarlett’s small body relaxed. ‘What else do you know about my . . . the Taylors?’
‘Only what I saw briefly on your file. Your father worked as a salesman for a cigarette company. Your mother was listed as a housewife. They had a son three years older than you. There were dates too.’ Jed paused briefly to calculate. ‘That would make your mother fifty-six, your father nearly sixty, and your brother eighteen.’
‘Did the file say why they didn’t want reports on me, or come visit me?’ asked Scarlett quietly.
‘No.’ Jed’s voice was equally soft. ‘But, brat, none of it means they didn’t want you, just that they couldn’t look after you. When kids are taken into care, or go to hospital or even boarding school, parents are asked to stay away to help the kids settle in. Your parents might have felt that it would only confuse you to have contact with them, if they couldn’t ever take you home. The Arncliffe doctors might have convinced them of that too.’
Jed managed a smile. ‘No one then ever expected you to become the brilliant Scarlett Kelly-O’Hara in her aluminium and titanium chariot. Maybe it hurt them so much to let you go they couldn’t bear to keep hearing about you. They did at least refuse to sign a form allowing you to be adopted. Maybe that meant they did dream one day you could come back to them.’
‘Do you really think that?’ asked Scarlett.
‘No,’ said Jed with desperate honesty. ‘I think they signed you away so they never had to think about you again. And I hope the next time your parents go to the beach a school of sharks eats both of them in very, very small nibbles, till they can never hurt another child again. I think abandoning a child is the worst crime any human can commit —’ She stopped, her face crumpled and red.
Leafsong desperately wished the ginger sponge was ready. Bringing it out would change the subject, but it was still too hot to roll up with cream . . .
‘Yoo-hoo!’ The voice sounded at the same time as a knock on the door. Leafsong relaxed, and went to let her sister in.
‘What are you doing here?’ asked Jed. The words should have been rude. Instead they sounded exhausted.
‘Your lawyer has arrived,’ said Carol.