FORTY
FIVE
17th September 1912 – Neutral Bay
17th September 1912 – Neutral Bay
Willie and Grace hurried home from work, and burst into the house
to ask George about his meeting during that afternoon with the Children’s
Board. Once again the meeting of the three of them was carried out around the
kitchen table with the brown teapot in a central position, almost as a focal
point for them to concentrate upon during their conversation. The sun was
shining in through the kitchen window and Clyda was once again was playing in
the back garden with the younger of the two girls from next door. The routine
was as though nothing had disturbed them during the past few days.
This time George did not prolong the anticipation of the other two
in giving them the news of his meeting with Mr Green from the State Children’s
Relief Board at Richmond Terrace on the Domain. The journey to the office had
been easy, a ferry from Neutral Bay to Circular Quay, and then a short walk
from the quayside, climbing up the hill to the Domain with its clutch of imposing
government and state buildings.
The meeting had been quite short, George had thought in retrospect,
no more than thirty minutes. During it Mr Green told George of the state’s
obligation to not only the child, but also the estate of Florence. The state
had a duty of care over a child left in these circumstances, and there were
guidelines and procedures which the state would follow under the dictate of Mr
Green and his subordinates. He went on to tell George that in the absence of
any legal guardian, he would have custody and care of the child, in view of
George’s relationship with Florence, and that he would be paid by the state a
weekly stipend for the care of the child. In return George would have to clothe
and feed the child, an obligation which Mr Green had no doubt George would
fulfil. It was obvious to George, that the letter from Mr Stephens to the State
children’s Board had contained more information than George had been made aware
of, but from the reaction of Mr Green, the information had been positive and
very much in favour of George taking care of the child. Mr Green advised that
George should, as a matter of some urgency, write to the parents Florence to
tell them the sad news of their daughter’s death. Any further correspondence
between the family and his office would be best taken care of by the Intestate
Office, who would have legal responsibility for the disposal of the estate. Mr
Stephens would be in the best position to provide not only the legal position,
but would also have the authority to do whatever was required to be done. Mr
Green was at pains to point out that his department’s responsibility lay with
ensuring that the child was taken care of properly. At this point he dropped a
bomb into George’s lap as he sat in front of him across the wide desk in his
office.
'Do not be under any illusion Mr Kent,' he began. 'The state will
not wish you to take care of this child indefinitely.' He paused to let George assimilate what he had
said then continued, 'So in time, and not too much time either, we would be
looking at the child being taken into official care by a foster parent here in
Sydney.' George had sat in silence whilst Mr Green had spoken, but when he
paused in his speech George blurted out,
'That can't be right Mr Green. She's lived with me for most of her
life, she thinks of me as her father, just as she considered Florence her
mother. You can't do this to her. This is her home and I am her father.' He
paused to draw a quick breath and continued. 'How am I going to tell her she
will be leaving the only place she has ever known and going to live with people
she has never met, who she doesn’t know and to a place she has never known?
This is just cruel on her.' Mr Green sat back in his chair and placed his hands
flat on the desk, slowly moving one piece of paper and then another. He looked
up at George across the desk across from him, then down at the papers again.
'I’m sorry Mr Kent,' he said. 'I do understand what you are
saying, and if I am completely honest, I feel you have a justification for what
you say, but I am simply telling you what the law is and how the state is
obliged to act in these circumstances.'
'Is there nothing I can do to make you change your mind? This
can’t be right.' George said. Mr Green sighed and touched the papers lightly
with the tips of his fingers again before replying,
'I’m sorry Mr Kent, I feel that it would be wrong of me to give
you any false hopes in that respect. There is nothing to be done. The child
must be placed in the care of foster parents. I will be writing to you in the
near future as to the final disposition of the child, but I hope it will not be
too long. That would not be right for you or for the child.' He looked George
in the eye and said, 'I am sorry Mr Kent, very sorry. I can understand what
your feelings must be at this time, but there is nothing more to be done.'
George had reluctantly accepted the information. As he left the
office for the journey home, his mind was awash with thoughts and ploys to keep
Clyda with him, though by the time he had arrive home the only certainty in his
mind was that he knew too little to be able to fight the decision of the state.
Willie and Grace listened in silence to George recounting the what
had happened, and for a few moments none of them spoke, all quietly digesting the
facts they had been given. It was Grace who eventually broke the silence. 'That’s
not good news then isn’t it?' she said quietly. Neither George nor Willie
replied immediately, then George looked sideways towards her and said,
'You're right, not good news. But what am I going to do in the
future?'
All of them had, during the past few days, been completely
focussed on keeping the child safe with them and their thoughts to the future,
and the life which George still had to lead with the little girl in his life. After
all, he was only in his early thirties and much of his life lay ahead of him. In
time he would have to make decisions on where he lived, would the business
partnership with Willie succeed? A thought which had been in both their minds
in recent times had been the success and growth of the business. The biggest
boatyard competitor they had, Joyce’s Boatyard, was always in their minds as
they tried to gain business on a daily basis. Joyce's yard was in a much better
position to attract customers who came to Neutral Bay as it was close to the
wharf where the ferry came in from Circular Quay. Would their business survive
or would they be forced to close it, and if so what would George then do to
earn a living? Before, when he had lived
in the countryside of Victoria, earning a living had never been a problem for
him. There was plenty of work for a labourer, skilled or unskilled. Being a
single man, he had always been able to find work on the farms or the forests,
or even with his own father as a joiner. For the past forty eight hours his
mind had been exercised with the prospect of taking care of and providing for
Clyda, but now that he had to consider the prospect of having to take care of,
and producing a living for Clyda, this was something else. Although Mr Green
had promised George that he would be paid the sum of ten shilling a week for
her board and upkeep, this could not last indefinitely. Whilst it would help to
defray the cost of providing for the child, he knew that in time he would have
to supplement his income in some other way to provide for her clothing and
other unforeseen expenditure. And all this would in time come to an end when
the child was taken from him; but he had no thoughts of when this would be.
Would he have the time to secrete the child away, perhaps back to his home town
in Alexandra well hidden from the law?
There was one other thing George had to do, as a matter of urgency,
and before he could turn his mind to finding a solution to the latest problem
which had found its way to his doorstep, and that was to write a letter to the
parents of Florence to tell them the news of their daughter’s death.
Later that evening when he had had bathed and put Clyda to bed,
George sat down at the bare kitchen table, with a few sheets of quality paper
he had bought on his way home from the meeting at the Domain that day. Willie
and Grace left George alone so he could work on the letter uninterrupted,
leaving him in the house by himself. He sat at the table as the last of the
evening sunshine still poured into the room from the window at the end of the
room. He touched the sheets of paper in front of him lightly with his fingers,
and moved them from one area of the table to another as he tried to formulate
the words in his mind before committing those words to the paper. Several times
he glanced up from the table to the window over the kitchen sink, unable to
find the correct words. Finally, after one attempt had been discarded, he wrote
a second version which he eventually folded and placed in an envelope. Before
he sealed the envelope Willie and Grace arrived home.
'Finished it?' Grace asked him.
'Yes' he replied, holding up the unsealed envelope. 'Would you
read it please, just to see if I have put everything in it? Don’t want to miss
anything out, but don’t want to give too much away.' He paused and with a
rueful smile added, 'Not that there is anything they shouldn’t know, but you
know what I mean.' Grace looked at him and nodded her head in agreement then
sat down alongside him and took the envelope. She extracted the single page of
paper from the envelope and flattened it on the table in front of her.
'Have you included that Flo was expecting?' she asked. George
looked across the table at her and slowly shook his head.
'No I didn’t. Because of the problems she had with her parents
when she went to see them with Clyda that last time, they weren't too happy I
thought that it was better not to mention anything. No doubt in time they will
find out, but not from me.' He sat back in the chair and took his pipe from a
pocket in his trousers and started to cut himself some tobacco from a plug in
the same pocket. Grinding it between his hands he continued thoughtfully,
'This is going to come as a terrible shock for them, and I don’t
think that at this time it would be the right thing to do to tell them she died
as a result of becoming pregnant. It is going to be hard enough for Clyda when
she gets back there as it is, without them thinking the worst about their
daughter as well. If it comes out that Flo was expecting, well, I’ll deal with
that if it happens.' He filled the tobacco from his hand into his pipe and took
a match from a box on the table and struck it, lighting the tobacco, and blowing
clouds of smoke into the kitchen. The sunlight flooded into the room and struck
the smoke causing lines of multi-coloured streaks to bring a false sense of
gaiety to the room.
George had written on both sides of the paper and then folded it
in two before placing it in the envelope. At her first glance she recognised
the well educated hand of George, it was neat, strong and without mistakes. She
settled back and read the letter three times before giving him her verdict.
6 Phillip Street
Neutral Bay
Neutral Bay
Nr Sydney
Sept 17th
Dear Mr Hadfield
It is with the deepest
sympathy that I have to tell you that your daughter Florence passed away on
Monday last Sept 9th at 11.30pm in the North Shore Hospital Nr Sydney. She had
been feeling far from well for some time but refused to have the doctor. When I
at last prevailed upon her to see Dr Bligh he came at 8.30pm on the 2nd
Sept. & ordered her immediate removal to the Hospital which order I carried
out. She was suffering from a complaint of the kidneys with complications and
after two operations she gradually sunk. I buried her at Gore Hill Cemetery grave
No. 193 Church of England. There is a small sum of money in the Gov Savings
bank which has been handed over to the state to collect together with her
personal belongings. They contemplate sending her little child Clyda to you in
England and are communicating with her solicitor Mr Roxburgh. Clyda at present
is staying under my care and will continue to do so until her departure and she
is a dear little girl. I will write you again to advise you the vessel she will
travel by & all particulars when I get the same from the Government.
I can assure you
everything possible was done to save your daughter, but owing to her previous
operations two years ago her strength failed.
Again expressing my
deepest sorrow in your sad bereavement.
Yours truly
George Kent
Grace settled back in her chair and handed the letter over to
Willie for him to read then took up her cup from the table and drank from it whilst
contemplating what George had written. 'It’s a good letter George,' she
eventually pronounced, nodding her head to confirm her words. 'It tells them
what happened and yet does not give them the whole story. That would be too
cruel for them to take in at the same time. Perhaps in time they will hear the
full story, but it won’t come from you or Willie and me. Perhaps they will
never know. If the child has to go back to England in time she won’t know any
of the details of her mother’s death, so there will be nobody who can tell
them.' George nodded his head in agreement. Grace carried on, 'It might not
come to that anyway. If the state will let you keep the child then the problem
then is how are you going to be able to look after her?' George considered this
for a moment, pulling hard on his pipe.
'I don’t know the answer to that one at the moment. It needs some
thinking about doesn’t it?' Willie drew alongside Grace seated at the table.
'Whatever you do decide on George you can rely on Grace and me to
give you whatever help you need. If it’s a matter of taking time off work to
take care of the child then we can work that out, but I am sure Iris would take
on the job at the drop of a hat. She already treats Clyda as one of her own
kids, so leaving her with Iris during the day shouldn’t present a problem for
her.' He paused and a thought suddenly struck him. 'Hang on a minute. That
bloke you went to see said something about you getting a weekly allowance to
take care of her didn’t he? Well maybe if it comes to it you can offer Iris some of it to look after
her.' George assimilated the thought for a second before smiling and nodding
his head in agreement.
'Yes, of course' he said. 'I’m sure she would take care of her,
with or without any payment. Good idea Willie, good idea.' He rose from the
table and for the first time since the meeting earlier that day he smiled a
genuine smile of relief and happiness. It seemed that the problem was being
solved.
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