Betty's Stories
Dance, Matilda
These song titles were to be used in this story:
Matilda Never Waltzed
Let the Little Girl Dance
Save the Last Waltz for Me
Matilda returned to the cemetery the day after her husband's funeral. Following all the months of her husband's illness, his death and all her family and friends keeping her company, she had had few opportunities to be alone to reflect on her life.
She stood in front of Ken's grave and gently placed twigs of mulberry leaves on it. Her mind went back to the day she had met him.
It had been a lovely sunny day and when she arrived home from school, she kicked off her shoes and socks and went out into the back yard, where she sang and danced for the pure joy of living. Then she suddenly saw she had an audience. There was a boy in the mulberry tree at the rear of the yard behind her back yard. He was watching her intently.
She stopped. "Who are you?" she demanded.
"Ken," he said. "Don't stop."
"But I don't know you."
"We've just moved here. What's your name?"
Matilda looked at him critically before replying, "Matilda Alice Sydney."
"Really? Sydney's a town."
"So's Alice."
"And there's Waltzing Matilda, so the name suits you. You look pretty dancing," he added and then felt uncomfortable at having complimented a girl. He swung on a branch and dropped out of sight behind the fence.
Matilda climbed on a box against the fence and peered over.
"What's your surname?" she called as he was about to enter the back door.
"Rose," he admitted reluctantly.
"When did you come here?"
"We moved in this morning. I'll be starting school on Monday."
"What class?"
"Standard three."
"There's a couple of nasty boys in that class."
Ken groaned. Nasty boys were likely to tease him about his surname.
At that moment, his mother came to the door to see who he was talking to.
"Matilda," he said. "She lives at the back of us."
"Hello, Mrs Rose," said Matilda. "Would you like to see my mum?"
"Yes, I would."
"Mum," called Matilda. "Come and meet the new people."
Mrs Sydney, who had witnessed some of the exchange between the children, came out to the back fence and was soon in conversation with Mrs Rose. Ken wandered off to unpack some more of his belongings and Matilda, uninterested in adult conversation, recommenced her dancing.
"Stop that," said her mother, "and change your frock. You should have done that when you got home."
"Oh, let the little girl dance," said Mrs Rose. "It's so nice to see a child so happy."
But Matilda went inside to change.
So began a friendship between the two families. Apart from times Ken had his friends over, or Matilda had her girl friends round, the two children played amicably together. But when Ken was twelve, his family moved interstate. At first there was some correspondence between them, but that soon petered out.
Matilda was popular with her classmates, and when she left high school at fifteen, she was easily able to obtain an office job and enjoyed the freedom of going out with her friends. Best of all, she liked to go dancing on Saturday nights, but until she was eighteen she had to be home by 11 p.m.
She never lacked partners, but sometimes she declined offers, such as when that horrible Joe asked her to dance. His idea of dancing was to hold a girl tightly and shuffle around the floor, his hands moving more than his feet. She said, "No, thank you,' to his request, but he persisted until a stranger came up and said,
"Excuse me, she's promised me this dance."
Matilda turned to the stranger thankfully and took his hand. He led her on to the floor, grinning broadly. She took another look at him and exclaimed, "Ken! Ken Rose!"
"Yes, Matilda. Now, I knew you at first sight."
They had so much to talk about, catching up on their teenage years. Well, she was still a teenager, though only just. He had a car, so escorted her home, kissed her goodnight and said he would be round the next day.
So they began their romance, to the approval of Matilda's parents. Ken's parents returned to the west a month later and were happy to be reunited with their son and were content to see that he was courting Matilda.
Two months later, at a Saturday dance, Ken whispered to her,
"Save the last dance for me."
As she had been doing this each Saturday night since his return, she giggled and said,
"Well, I might if you behave yourself."
He replied, "Well, I'll try, but it will be difficult."
The last dance arrived, a dreamy modern waltz. After the first round of the floor, he whispered, "Will you marry me?"
"Yes," she replied with no hesitation.
They took another turn round the floor, then left, saying nothing until he pulled into a spot by the river. Then he pulled a little box from his pocket, opened it and slipped a ring on her finger. "Does it fit?" he asked anxiously.
"Perfectly," she sighed.
Then they kissed and their emotions overcame them and they found they needed to get into the back seat.
It was 3 a.m. when they arrived at the Sydneys' house. There was a light in the kitchen.
"Uh, oh," said Matilda. "It looks like Mum's up. She doesn't really settle till I get in."
"I'll come in with you," he said.
Mrs Sydney was about to say, 'What kept you?' when Matilda presented her left hand.
"Oh," her mother said and hugged her and Ken. "Brian," she called to her husband, "They're engaged."
"What?" came a drowsy voice from the bedroom.
"They're engaged."
"Oh, good. Now come back to bed."
Ken left shortly afterwards. Though she thought she was too excited to sleep, Matilda fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. She awoke twenty minutes later with a feeling that something was wrong. Something to do with Ken. She thought he had called her. But of course, he hadn't. There was nothing wrong. How could there be? Nevertheless, she fell into a restless sleep.
In the morning, she was bleary eyed. Her mother was concerned.
"What's the matter, darling?"
"I don't know. I feel there's something wrong."
"You're not having second thoughts?"
"Oh no. I'd ring him if he was on the phone, but he isn't."
"When is he coming round?'
"Well, he's going to see his Mum and Dad, then he'll come here."
About 11 a.m., a car pulled up and Mr and Mrs Rose came to the house, obviously very distressed.
Matilda went as white as a sheet. "What's happened to Ken?"
Mrs Rose opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Her husband put his arm round her and said brokenly, "He died - car was hit. The police say the other driver - drunk- wrong side of the road."
Matilda could say nothing. She just stared. Her mother put her arms around her and said to the Roses, "They came in about 3 a.m. Ken had proposed to her. Where did it happen?"
"Oh, Cranford Road, about a quarter to four."
Then followed the agony associated with fatal accidents. Matilda took time off work. She was numb. No Ken. No future. The only tangible thing she had of him was the ring. She hoped she was pregnant. It would be difficult to bring up a child on her own, but it would be part of him. But she was not pregnant, so there was only the engagement ring, now never to be joined by a wedding ring.
Gradually over the year that followed, she began her life again. She wore her ring on her right hand for a while, but people noticed it was still an engagement ring, so she out it
in its box and kept it in a drawer of her dressing table. She would not go to a dance. Matilda never waltzed again.
Five years later, she met Frank and after a brief courtship, she married him. She liked and trusted him very much and was generally content with her marriage. She became a mother of two, and in time, a grandmother. Then Frank was diagnosed with cancer and now she was alone again.
She took a last look at Ken's grave, then at the ring finger of her left hand. That morning, she had taken his engagement ring from its box and slipped it on her finger. It looked new and bright against Frank's well worn rings.
She left the cemetery.
Reindeer on the Roof
This story had to contain:
Reindeer
Philip
Green
During the night …
… so all's well that ends well.
During the night, Philip found it hard to sleep. He kept waking up wondering if Santa had arrived. What he really wanted to do was see the reindeer. Surely they would make enough noise for him to hear them on the roof. Then he thought he would climb on to the roof so there would be no chance of his missing them. He got up, went and opened the window and found it strangely easy to climb up the drainpipe. Just as well, for Santa's sleigh was just about to land and it made no noise at all. Philip was so excited, he could not keep quiet.
"Ho, ho," said Santa. "I thought you were a good little boy, but here you are on Christmas Eve, out of bed. No presents for you this year." And with that, Santa urged the reindeer to fly off.
Philip was heart-broken and started to cry. His tears on the roof became icy. He slipped off the roof and lost consciousness.
"Wake up, Philip. Santa's been."
Philip, tear stained, opened his eyes. Mum and Dad were there. "Come and see what Santa's left."
Knowing that there would be nothing for him, he got out of bed and went to the Christmas tree and was astonished to see there were so many parcels.
"But," he said, "Santa said there was nothing for me."
"You must have misheard him," Mum said. "There are lots of gifts for you. And look, there's a green scooter, just the colour you wanted."
Philip was amazed and once he began opening his parcels, he became excited and forgot his midnight adventure.
So all's well that ends well.
Murder
With a hole in his head,
He was definitely dead.
His only daughter
Said 'twas manslaughter.
But a copper who heard her
Said it was murder.
Police rattled their sabres,
Spoke to all the neighbours.
But struck a stone wall
'Cos they'd heard nothing at all.
Or so they said.
They were glad he was dead.
He was such a bad lot,
'Twas good news he'd been shot.
And who committed the crime?
I'm not telling - not this time.
Grandfather's House (fiction)
My grandfather was the most mean, miserly man I have ever known. I did not know my grandmother as she died when Mum was three, and I grew up with the feeling that she was a mouse-like creature completely under her husband's thumb.
Grandfather's sister came to live with them and was instrumental in raising Mum, the result of which was that Mum was as mouse-like as her mother.
Grandfather must have been different at work. I gather he was most respected in his profession and had a large salary, but at home he spent not a penny more than he had to. His womenfolk had to make do on a pittance, as a result of which they ate the cheapest food and wore second hand clothes. When Mum was fourteen, her aunt died - probably from malnutrition. Mum was taken from school and sent out to work - and was expected to do all the housework. When she was seventeen, she eloped, mainly to escape the drudgery at home. A brief period of relative happiness followed, but then I arrived on the scene and my dad discovered he was not fatherhood material and left us.
There appeared to be nothing Mum could do but return home, so I was brought up in poverty and expected to submit to Grandfather's tyranny. But there was a rebellious streak in me. I was determined not to be like Mum. I worked after school and on Saturday mornings and did not let Grandfather know what I was up to. When I was sixteen, I left home for good and travelled interstate. I was not going to rely on any man. I found work and lodgings and wore new clothes.
I kept in contact with Mum, ringing her, but hanging up if Grandfather answered. As could be expected, she was not happy. Things were getting worse. The house was in disrepair as Grandfather would not spend money.
When I was twenty-one, I considered I had enough money to pay for Mum to come and live with me, but she would not leave Grandfather despite all my pleading.
Ten years later I heard, in a roundabout way, that she had died. So now I thought there was no connection at all with Grandfather. By this time I had a neat two-bedroom unit, mortgaged of course, and was leading a contented life with several friends, but was unwilling to get too involved with men.
Some fifteen years later, I received a letter from a solicitor advising that my grandfather had died intestate and, as I was his only living relative, I was his beneficiary. His estate consisted of a house and contents, a car and a few shares. I decided I had better see the solicitor, so I got leave from work and went back west.
I told the solicitor I was surprised Grandfather had left only a moderate legacy as he never spent money, but as I really wanted nothing to do with him alive or dead, I did not press the matter. I went to the house. It needed a lot doing to it. Going through the rooms, I saw nothing I wanted except for a few things that had belonged to Mum, so I told the solicitor her could sell the place as it stood, with contents. And that was that. The house, being in a good position, sold better than expected.
I paid off my mortgage and when I had long service leave, went on an extended overseas holiday. Retiring at sixty, I decided to travel leisurely around Australia, especially in the West, as I had seen very little of my state of origin.
When I eventually reached Perth, I noticed that Grandfather's house was up for auction, so I decided to go along. Wow! What a transformation! Firstly I noticed the wonderful garden. Then the house. Beautifully restored. There was an extension and swimming pool out the back.
But it was the inside of the house that surprised me. When the owner had started his renovations, he had discovered that an inbuilt wardrobe led to a cellar, in which there were a number of objets d'arte worth a fortune. Therefore he had been able to sell the pieces one by one which enabled him to refurbish the house to its present grandeur.
I had a sudden recollection that boxed arrived for my grandfather and we never discovered what was in them. A vision of him sitting in the cellar gloating over his treasures came to me. I felt sick in the stomach. All that money spent on beautiful objects while his wife and child lived and died in poverty.
I could not get out of the house quick enough. To think that Grandfather was worth millions! Well, the buyer was welcome to it. At least he had created a beautiful home. I hope Grandfather's ghost does not haunt present and future owners.
Marangaroo
A lady who lived in Marangaroo
Rode to work on a kangaroo.
When it stopped,
Off she hopped,
And then I think she rang a zoo.
I know the lady rang a zoo
And tried to trade a kangaroo
For an eagle,
But it's illegal
To fly a bird to Marangaroo.
She still rides a kangaroo,
Although she's had a prang or two.
There'd be less fuss
If she caught a bus
To and from Marangaroo.
1942
The year started differently. Father, who was in the army, was stationed at Albany and Grandma had come from South Australia for a short stay. The summer school holidays stretched before us. Margaret had her birthday on the 11th of January and five days later Mother provided us with a baby sister. War news was worrying for the adults, but we kids enjoyed our holidays. Grandma returned to South Australia.
At the commencement of the school year, I had a male teacher for the first time. The school had five classrooms and as there were seven classes, most teachers had two classes to deal with. I was in standard 4 - upper fourth to be exact. About eight of us shared a room with standard 5. Our teacher, Mr Sanders, was noted for throwing chalk at inattentive boys.
The war had been in progress for over two years. It had made some difference to our lives, the main one being that Father was not at home. The butcher no longer delivered meat, rationing was in place. Brownies met on Saturday afternoon instead of Friday nights, blackouts and air raid shelters were in place. We wore discs showing our blood groups.
The Japanese bombed Darwin and other northern ports. All of a sudden things were much more serious. The boys at school had to dig trenches and brown paper strips were stuck on all the windows. The high schools in Fremantle were evacuated, some pupils coming to our school. This meant that we only had half day schooling. The primary school used the rooms in the morning and in the afternoon students from Princess May Girls' High School took over. My best friend and her family shifted to the country.
Mr Sanders joined up and Mrs Montgomery took over. She was a martinet. Her favourite punishment was to keep the whole class in when only a few students were misbehaving. As primary classes finished at midday and high school started at 12.30, this meant we often had to move into the infants' room, which was not used by the High School. One day we were kept in so long that Mother set my brother David to find out what had happened to me. When Mother needed to go to Perth one afternoon, mainly to buy a cot for my baby sister, she wrote a note to Mrs Montgomery requesting that I be allowed to leave school at noon. Sure enough, the rest of the class had to stay in.
Father was transferred to Darwin, travelling by train and cattle truck. After that, on the rare occasions when he was on leave, he travelled by plane. We looked forward to receiving his letters and copies of 'Salt', a small magazine with contributions from men in the forces.
The school year ended with Mrs Montgomery recommending that I and a few others from standard 4 be promoted to standard 6 the following year.
In the warmer months, I slept on the front verandah, where I could often see searchlights seeking planes in the sky. Fortunately these were only drills. Sometimes during the day, we could see conveys of trucks making their way along Canning Highway.
Holidays again. Mother had made birthday and Christmas cakes for Father and had sent food parcels to English relations.
Holidays again and Margaret caught scarlet fever and was taken to hospital. We were quarantined and when school commenced we had an extra week at home, which was not good as my best friend had returned from the country.
When I returned to school, there were still half days, but the following week we were back to normal. The high school girls were back at Princess May, it being considered that Fremantle was safe again.
In 1944, at high school, we had air raid drill in the first week, but after that the sirens were quiet. We were expected to knit scarves and socks for sailors. Apart from athletics and swimming, there were no interschool sports. Apart from that, school was reasonably normal.
The war ended in 1945. We had two days' holiday to commemorate the occasion, crowding into buses going to Gloucester Park for celebrations.
It was a few months before Father came back to the West, and a few months in Hollywood Hospital before he was home for good.
And it was good to have him home again.
Listen
I should have listened when we were told not to go into the woods. My brothers listened, but I did not.
The day was so beautiful. The leaves were green and the flowers were all in bloom. The woods beckoned me and I obeyed. On my way, I stooped to pick flowers and soon had an arm full. But then I realised I was lost. I called out, but no one answered. All at once, I was scared. What if some wild animals came along? I had only seen birds and rabbits till that thought came into my head. However, I had heard tales of wolves and bears and lions and tigers.
Ahead of me I saw a clearing. Hopefully there might be people there. In the clearing, I saw a pretty house. "Oh!" I exclaimed, "That house is beautiful." I ran to the front door and knocked. No one answered. I was disappointed, then thought I would go round to the back. I knocked on the back door. There was no answer, but I discovered the door was not locked.
I went into the kitchen. There was a table, with three chairs, and on the table were three bowls of porridge. Well, I found one chair that was just right for me and as I was hungry, I ate the porridge. I had never tasted such delicious porridge. I think there was some honey in it. I really didn't like my mother's porridge. I always kicked up a fuss if she made me eat it.
When I had finished, I thought I would put my flowers in a vase in appreciation of the lovely food I'd eaten. Having done that and feeling pleased with the result, I suddenly felt tired. I went up the stairs. There were three beds there and the smallest bed was so cosy I lay down and with a gentle breeze coming through the open window, went to sleep immediately.
I awakened to the growl of a huge bear. What a fright I got! I jumped out of bed to make a dash for the door, but there were two other bears in the way, so I jumped out of the window and ran for my life.
But where was I? The sun was setting. I came to a stop, barely noticing the beautiful sunset. My right ankle was very sore. I must have twisted it when I jumped out of the window. I limped through the woods as clouds covered the sky and night fell quickly. I could go no further. I curled up near a large tree, but I could not sleep. I spent the night listening to strange noises, terrified that bears might find me, and my ankle throbbed incessantly. Then it started to rain and I shivered with cold.
Eventually dawn arrived. The sun shone on the damp earth. Little pools glistened in the early morning light and drops of water shimmered as they fell from the trees.
I could hardly move, but managed to crawl into a sunny patch in an attempt to dry out. I did not like to call out in case the bears heard me. Where was my home? Tears streamed down my cheeks. I was lost and there was no one to help me.
I looked around me. There was a broken branch on the ground which looked as though it might give me some support. It made a reasonable walking stick, so I shuffled along slowly, thinking I would be warmer doing that.
Then in the distance I heard voices calling 'Golda!'. I called out. At first they could not hear me and I began to panic as the voices faded. However some other closer voices started to call. I shouted as loudly as I could and this time I was heard.
Then, "Here she is."
Soon I was in my father's arms, sobbing. He said roughly, "That's enough of that. Let's see your ankle." He bandaged it and carried me all the way home. I slept most of the time.
It was so good to be home again. I was put into a warm bath and then put to bed.
When I recovered, I was told not to go into the woods again.
And this time I listened.
Before 21
I did not know what I wanted to be. I knew that I did not want to be a teacher or a nurse, which were the ambitions of most of my class. Neither did I want to travel by two buses to go to Perth Modern School to complete my Leaving Certificate. So I left Princess May Girls' High School on attaining my Junior Certificate and went to Fremantle Technical School to do a commercial course. I kept looking in the newspaper to see if there was work I would like to do and ended up as a junior at the Perth Literary Institute.
As can be seen, I was not very ambitious. I did have dreams of being an actress or a writer. But how did one go about achieving those goals? The year was 1947. There was no WA Academy of Performing Arts. An aunt introduced me to a drama class, which I enjoyed very much. The fees came out of my meagre wages and when the fees rose, my heart sank. I was not sure I could pay them. I did manage, but when classes were changed from evenings to Saturday mornings, I gave up. I worked Saturday mornings and I needed money.
I wrote a novel. Father read it. my young sister read it some years later and enjoyed it, but no one else in the family seemed to be interested.
The Fremantle Council decided it should have a free library and my parents decided I should apply for a position. I was quite happy at the Literary Institute. There were teenagers on the staff as well as seniors. At the Evan Davies Library there were three middle-aged women and me. The woman in charge was taking a new course for librarians and I was expected to get my Leaving Certificate. After about nine months, I gave it in and obtained a job in an insurance office in Perth. There were several girls in the office and I enjoyed their company. Outside of work hours, there was sport to play, occasionally plays and the Borovansky Ballet. There was plenty to do.
When my friend Judy said, "I want to go to New Zealand," I said, "When you go, I'll go too."
The following day she said, "I'm serious about going to New Zealand," so we started saving and making plans. Judy decided her teeth should be extracted. After that, she became very anaemic and was away from work for several weeks. On recovery, she went to a dance and fell in love. Well, I thought that meant our trip was off, but her boyfriend got a job up north, which would last as long as our working holiday would.
As we had worked at the office for a long time, Judy for five years and I for two and a half, we decided to give four weeks' notice instead of the usual two weeks. Everyone but the bosses knew we had planned this for months. The boss looked quite shocked when two of the company's best workers gave notice together and, after talking to the other bosses, told us they would only accept two weeks' notice. So that meant we missed out on two weeks' pay and a Christmas bonus.
Early in January, we boarded the 'Manoora' which would take us to Sydney. We travelled second class, of course, and thoroughly enjoyed the voyage. Sydney Harbour was beautiful, but once under the Bridge, we were not very impressed with how dirty the wharves were. At that time, Fremantle was reputed to be the cleanest harbour.
We were booked into a private hotel in King's Cross. While there we received a letter from our former bosses to the effect that there would be jobs for us in their Wellington office. That lifted our spirits.
A couple of days later we boarded the 'Wanganella' to cross the Tasman Sea, and to new adventures in the land of the long white cloud. And to my twenty first birthday.