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Chapter Seventeen
Robyn and Kevin and Corrie and Chris were beaming. It wasn’t hard to beam back. It was such a relief, such a joy, to see them again. I hugged them desperately, only then aware how frightened I’d been for them. But for once everything seemed to have gone well. It was wonderful.
They hadn’t told Homer and Fi much, because they were tired, and because they didn’t want to repeat themselves when they reached Lee and me. All they’d said was that they hadn’t seen any of our families, but they’d been told they were safe and at the Showground. When I heard this, it was such a relief that I sat down quickly on the ground, as though I’d had the breath knocked out of me. Lee leant against a tree with his hands over his face. I don’t think anything else mattered to us much. We did have lots of questions, but we could see how exhausted everyone was, so we were content to let them have their breakfasts before they told us any more. And with a good breakfast in them – even a few fresh eggs, cooked quickly and dangerously on a small fire, which we put out just as quickly – they settled down, full of food and adrenalin, to tell us the lot. Robyn did most of the talking. She’d already been their unofficial leader when they left, and it was interesting to see how much she was ru
Chris had brought back a few packets of smokes and two bottles of port that he’d ‘souvenired’, as he called it. He sat on the log beside me, until he lit up and I politely asked him to move. I couldn’t help wondering how far we could go with this ‘souveniring’ idea. It made me reflect on what I’d been thinking about the night before. If we were going to ignore the laws of the land, we had to work out our own standards instead. I had no problem with all the laws we’d broken already – so far we could have been charged with stealing, driving without a licence, wilful damage, assault, manslaughter, or murder maybe, going through a stop sign, driving without lights, breaking and entering, and I don’t know how many other things. It seemed like we’d be committing under-age drinking soon too, not for the first time in my life, I have to admit. That didn’t bother me either – I’d always thought the law on that was typical of the stupidity of most laws. I mean, the idea that at seventeen years, eleven months and twenty-nine days you were too immature to touch alcohol but a day later you could get wasted on a couple of slabs wasn’t exactly bright. But I still didn’t like the idea of Chris picking up grog and cigarettes whenever and wherever he felt like it. I suppose it was because they weren’t as essential as the other things we’d knocked off. Admittedly I’d taken some chocolate from the Grubers’, which wasn’t much different, except that at Outward Bound they’d given us chocolate for energy, so there was at least something good you could say about chocolate. There wasn’t an awful lot you could say for port or nicotine.
I wondered what would happen if Chris brought anything stronger into Hell, or if he tried to grow dope or something down here. But meanwhile Robyn was starting on the big speech, so I stopped thinking about morality and started concentrating on her.
‘OK boys and girls,’ she began. ‘Everyone ready for story time? We’ve had a pretty interesting couple of days. Although,’ she added, looking at Lee and me, and Homer and Fi, ‘you guys seem to have had an interesting couple of days yourselves. It mightn’t be safe to leave you here alone again.’
‘OK Mum, get on with it,’ Homer said.
‘All right, but I’m watching you, remember. Well. Where do I start? The first thing, as we’ve said already, is that we haven’t seen any of our families, but we’ve heard about them. The people we talked to swear they’re all OK. In fact everyone in the Showground is meant to be in good nick. What we said jokingly a while back is quite true: they have got plenty of food. They’ve eaten the scones, the decorated cakes, the sponges, the home-made bread, the matched eggs, the novelty cakes ... Have I left anything out?’
‘The fruit cakes,’ said Corrie, who was an expert on these subjects. ‘The jams, preserves and pickles. The Best Assorted Biscuits.’
‘OK, OK.’ About three people spoke at once.
‘And,’ said Robyn, ‘they’re eating their way through the livestock. It’s a shame really, because it’s some of the best stock in the district. So they should be getting some top quality tucker. They bake bread in the CWA tearooms every morning – there’s a couple of stoves in there. For a while they were ru
‘You’re not a Young Farmer,’ I said.
‘No, but Adam is,’ she said, looking faintly embarrassed.
When our immature wolf whistles and animal noises had died down, she continued, undaunted.
‘But there’s been a few developments,’ she said. ‘They’ve now got work parties going out of the Showground each day. They go in groups of eight or ten, with three or four guards. They do jobs like cleaning the streets, burying people, getting food – including the greens – and helping in the Hospital.’
‘So the Hospital is ru
‘Yes. Ellie’s been keeping it busy.’
As soon as she said that, she looked like she wished she hadn’t.
‘What? Did you hear something?’
She shook her head. ‘No, no, nothing.’
‘Oh come on, don’t do that Robyn. What did you hear?’
‘It’s nothing Ellie. There were some casualties. You know that.’
‘So what did you hear?’
Robyn looked uncomfortable. I knew I’d be sorry but I’d gone too far to stop. ‘Robyn! Stop treating me like a kid! Just tell me!’
She grimaced but told me. ‘Those three soldiers hit by the ride-on mower, two of them died, they think. And two of the people we ran over.’
‘Oh,’ I said. She’d said it flatly and calmly, but the shock was still terrible. Sweat broke out on my face and I felt quite giddy. Lee gripped my hand hard, but I hardly felt it. Corrie came and sat on my other side, where Chris had been, and held me.
After a minute Chris said, ‘It’s different from the movies, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’m OK. Please, just go on Robyn.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Well, the Hospital’s had a few other casualties. The first day or two there was a lot of fighting, and a lot of people got hurt or killed. Soldiers and civilians. Not at the Showground – the surprise was so complete that they took the whole place in ten minutes – but in town and around the district, with people who hadn’t gone to the Show. And it’s still going on – there’s a few groups of guerillas, just ordinary people like us I guess, who are hanging around and attacking patrols when they get a chance. But the town itself is quiet. They seem to have flushed everyone out, and they’re confident that they’ve got it under control.’
‘Are they treating people well?’
‘Mostly. For example, the people who were in hospital the day of the invasion have been kept there, and looked after. The people we’ve talked to say the soldiers are anxious to keep their noses clean. They know that sooner or later the United Nations and the Red Cross’ll be wandering around, and they don’t want to attract a lot of heat from them. They keep talking about a “clean” invasion. They figure that if there’s no talk of concentration camps and torture and rape and stuff, there’s less chance of countries like America getting involved.’