Maids and Bushrangers

The girls were up early. Already the bread was in the oven and the large kettle was on to boil. The men would gather here soon, to resume the search. The kitchen was warm, steamy from the kettle coming to the boil, and the smell of the baking bread was a comfort. The lamps glowed, pushing out the pre-dawn darkness. “Do you think they will find her, Peggy?” asked Irene. “Oh, don’t ask me, Irene,” replied Peggy shakily, “I can’t bear to think of that jolly little girl out there in the dark amongst the trees. She was just here the other week, toddling around this very kitchen.” Peggy sniffed as they resumed their work in silence. Ernie Bryant’s two year old girl, Joyce, had gone missing yesterday. Ernie, who had worked at Balgownie for over a decade, had been fetched home urgently by his teenage son. Mr Walcott had offered the station as a meeting place for the search parties. The land surrounding Balgownie station was pleasant enough on a warm spring day. There were roll

The echoes of the children’s cheers rippled across Fremantle Harbour. “We’re almost there, Peggy,” whispered Irene, holding tight to the ship’s rail. Peggy’s face was lit by the sunset glow as she turned and smiled at her friend. Peggy would be glad to get off the Ballarat after six long weeks at sea. She smoothed the skirt of her brown woollen Girl Guides uniform. Miss Wedlock said they all had to look their best as a photographer from the newspaper would be taking a photo of the Dr Barnardo’s party on the dock. Peggy’s smile faded as she remembered that most of the smaller children would be leaving the group here to go to a farm school. Miss Amos and Lieutenant Fitchett were handing out white floppy hats to the farm school children. She and Irene and the other teenage girls would go on to Sydney. Peggy had helped look after some of the younger ones. She’d mothered those little children like she wished she had been mothered. She read to them. She helped them. She was there