Gibber’s Creek Gazette, 13 December 1975
. . . remember that polls open at 9 am and close at 6 pm with voting booths at the Gibber’s Creek Central School, Rocky Creek Old Schoolhouse . . .
SAM
This must be the only election party in the whole of Australia attended by marsupials: another orphaned joey in Mrs Weaver’s shoulder bag, and a ten-month-old wombat with a leg in plaster being fed a bottle of milk by Felicity in the quiet kitchen off the main hall.
Sam watched Jed across the room, dressed not like the other Labor Party volunteers in jeans and official red T-shirt, but in a cool 1920s low-waisted dress of soft blush-pink satin, trimmed with antique lace at the hem, sandals and a Shame, Fraser, shame button pinned below her shoulder. He could see Matilda watching her too, from her armchair at the edge of the Gibber’s Creek Town Hall. Matilda had booked the hall, as she had for the last two elections, perhaps five minutes after the election was called, thus once again denying the town’s major meeting place to the Coalition supporters.
It was hard to read Matilda’s expression as she watched Jed. Pride, certainly, and love, but there was something else too. Wistfulness? Not a word that one would often associate with Matilda.
Did Matilda realise how much Jed looked like the photos and portraits of the young Matilda, kept on the living-room piano? They might have had no blood connection, but Tommy Thompson’s first wife must have very much resembled the girl he had first loved.
Did Matilda also know Jed was slowly taking her role as the lynchpin of Gibber’s Creek? For why else would the Gibber’s Creek Hospital, having heard from colleagues in Sydney, ring Jed to tell her of Ra Zacharia’s death, asking her to let Mark know, just as Carol had asked Jed to be there while she explained to Mark and Leafsong that Ra Zacharia’s will left all he had to ‘those members of the Chosen of the Universe who survive me’. Which meant that the other three survivors had enough money for proper medical and nursing care, and that Mark had enough money to go to university or a tech college if he wished. Or, perhaps, to buy the café building with Leafsong.
Someone else watched Jed too. Nicholas Brewster, MP. Did Nicholas keep glancing at Jed for reassurance, despite everyone around him assuring him that the result was in the bag? Or did Nicholas watch Jed for the same reason that he, Sam, did? Because his eyes were drawn to her wherever she was in the room.
His eyes slid across the room. Mrs Weaver, sitting, watching, contented. Nancy sitting with Moira, Gavin balanced between them, a plate of green vegetable mush on the bench beside them. ‘Now just one more spoonful, Gavin, darling,’ said Moira.
‘No,’ said Gavin. The word was clear and loud enough even for Sam to hear.
‘Nancy! Gavin said no!’ Moira’s face crumpled in delight.
Sam looked at Gavin’s clear dark eyes and smiled. He suspected the kid would use that word a lot in the years to come. Good on him.
The picture changed on the TV up on the stage. Someone turned up the volume: ‘. . . and now we cross to the Tally Room, where the first figures are coming in. And what figures they are! Despite only two per cent of the vote having been counted, it seems tonight will be an overwhelming victory for Labor . . .’
Electorate after electorate was evaluated, then Gibber’s Creek was mentioned: ‘. . . 3,291 votes for the incumbent, Labor’s Nicholas Brewster, and only 1,345 votes for the Country Party candidate . . .’
‘You’ve done it, mate!’
‘Always said you would!’
‘Early days yet,’ said Nicholas, his eyes once more seeking Jed’s. She gave him a triumphant nod, then moved over to Matilda. She sat on the chair’s arm and held the old woman’s hand. Matilda looked like a strip of bark etched by wind and sun and frost, frail yet still entirely intact.
It wasn’t fair, thought Sam. Matilda should have had her father’s dream left intact, without this bickering and the challenges. No one had challenged those other major milestones — Federation, and the rights of women, and for Aboriginal Australians to be counted as Australian citizens and have the right to vote.
Tommy had died seeing humanity reach the moon. Surely Matilda deserved to spend her last years watching Australia become the land of equality and modern opportunity.
‘Sam, darling, how is the factory?’
He returned his mother’s hug. ‘A mess. But we expected that. We’ve even got a name now. The Whole Australia Power Company.’
‘How modest,’ said his mother.
Sam grinned. ‘Jed’s idea.’
‘I do like that girl.’
‘So do I,’ said Sam softly.
His mother opened her mouth to say something, then shut it as his father touched her arm. For which Sam was truly grateful. He would not, couldn’t ask Jed to marry him again, not when she might say yes only because their lives were presently so well meshed together. Or because Nicholas was about to be married too.
‘. . . and with more figures in, things are looking even stronger for Labor. Although there are still no numbers from Western Australia, and the Queensland, South Australian and Northern Territory figures are only just beginning to trickle in, more than ten per cent of the vote has been counted now in the following electorates . . .’
More cheers. Michael held up a bottle of champagne enquiringly to Matilda. She shook her head, watching the screen. She alone did not look elated.
Sam shouldered his way through the crush, men holding stubbies, women shandies or plastic cups of chateau cardboard, cheese and tomato on Jatz biscuits, mini vol-au-vents and Leafsong and Mark’s small not-quite-sausage rolls. He put his arm around Jed, who was still perched on the arm of the chair, before he asked Matilda, ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Too early,’ Matilda said cryptically.
‘What do you mean?’
Matilda gazed up at him, as commanding as if she were a general at the height of his powers. ‘What time did you vote, young man?’
‘As soon as the polls opened.’
‘And you?’ she asked Jed.
‘The same, of course.’
‘Ask anyone in this room,’ said Matilda clearly, ‘and they will tell you they also voted as soon as the booths opened. Every person in the nation who feels passionately about the dismissal will have voted early today.’ She gazed around the chattering crowd, then added, her voice still clear and carrying, ‘And everyone who has voted for the Coalition, because they feel the Coalition can manage this nation and its economy better and more steadily than Labor, will have put off voting till later, in their shame at how this election was achieved.’
Even as she spoke, the TV commentator remarked, ‘It looks like we’re seeing a sudden swing in almost all seats. It’s quite unprecedented . . . In Gibber’s Creek now Nicholas Brewster still stands at 4,893, but his opponent has gained ground to 5,190. And as more votes come in . . .’
‘It has started,’ said Matilda. Her tone said, ‘It is finished.’