‘We need a motor car, Papa, because everything might be in walking distance but you have trouble making that distance these days and think of poor Lilly, she finds it even harder than you.’
Edie looked over at Lilly, who was counting stitches on the cardigan she was knitting for Paul. Doctor Appleby had told Edie and Paul confidentially that Lilly’s heart wasn’t strong. Paul scowled and Edie braced herself.
‘There is nothing wrong with a cab. It keeps men in work and there isn’t much of that around,’ he said firmly and then asked, ‘Where’s my umbrella?’
She sighed. If he wanted his umbrella he was getting worked up and if he got worked up he would pace up and down with his umbrella lecturing them as if giving a closing speech.
‘We need a motor, Papa.’ She looked to Gracie for help.
‘Edie’s right, Papa,’ Gracie piped up and handed him his umbrella, which was right by his chair. ‘They say that horses will be a thing of the past within ten years.’
‘Bah,’ he said. Paul pushed the umbrella into the floor and manoeuvred himself to a more upright position.
‘Motor vehicles are faster, safer and warmer,’ said Edie. ‘You can get to Melbourne in a day.’
‘Or I can take the train and get there in half a day,’ said Paul.
‘Motor vehicles don’t get ill, don’t leave manure everywhere, don’t need feeding and in the end, Papa, they are much cheaper than keeping a horse.’
‘What do you think, Lilly?’ asked Paul, completely unconvinced.
‘I think it’s a different world and if the girls want an automobile and you can afford it, I don’t see the problem.’
Paul scowled. ‘I don’t want you killing yourselves in some silly accident.’
‘Oh Papa,’ said Edie, ‘that’s why I’ve had all those lessons from Mister Ainsworth. Everyone says he charges a little more but he is the best.’
‘He can’t be very good if you had two accidents going for your test. It cost me a fortune between the lessons and those accidents.’
‘Papa, it won’t be a fast car — will it, Edie?’ Gracie smiled at him.
‘I can fight one of you but no sane man would take on three females — especially one who smiles like that. But promise me you won’t do any more than ten miles an hour.’
‘Fifteen,’ said Gracie. ‘That’s the speed limit, isn’t it, Edie?’
But Edie was already thinking how there would be no more lessons and she felt enormously sad.
Thirty-Nine
The Picnic
Sunday, 6 November 1921, when Edie is a mess of trembles.
Gracie turned sixteen and to mark the occasion she’d prepared a special gift for Paul, Lilly and Edie, but it wasn’t quite ready on her actual birthday, which had been yesterday, so she had told them she would give it to them after church today. Edie had no idea what it would be and when she tried to pry it out of her, Gracie only smiled back.
‘Do we have to share it?’ asked Paul.
‘Yes,’ she’d said.
Edie knew Gracie had been preparing the gift for months. Sometimes when Edie had gone to the shops or out for a walk she’d asked Gracie if she wanted to come and Gracie said she had things to do and Edie knew she was working on her secret project.
Edie watched as Gracie carried kitchen chairs one by one into the sitting room and placed them side by side in front of the lounge chairs. She wouldn’t let Edie help but when she had three chairs lined up in a row as if in a concert hall, she let Edie into the sitting room and called for Lilly and Paul to come too.
Edie sat beside Paul and Gracie nodded her head, pleased they were being quiet and giving her their full attention. She ducked back out into the hallway.
‘Today, ladies and gentleman,’ she called from the hallway, ‘all the way from Webster Street, Ballarat, a once-only appearance at Webster Street, Ballarat.’
They clapped and Gracie walked into the lounge room. Edie smiled at her as Gracie nervously pulled at her dress as though she couldn’t get it to sit right.
Well now, Edie had heard Gracie sing at church, where her voice mingled with everyone else’s, she’d heard her sing in the kitchen where her voice mingled with boiling pots and steam and Lilly’s voice and her own, but she’d not heard Gracie sing alone since she was little. She watched Gracie intently, ready to tell her she was brilliant even if she wasn’t.
Gracie took a deep breath and began.
When she finished Edie sat looking at her. She knew she should say something but she couldn’t find any words.
‘It wasn’t any good, was it?’ Gracie asked.
Edie wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘Each note was soft like a rose petal landing on my skin.’
Paul and Lilly wiped the tears from their eyes and agreed. Paul said, ‘Well, how about another? I could sit here and listen to you all day.’
The knock on the door stopped Gracie as she began to sing again. Edie stood up without even thinking about it. It sounded just like him, but it couldn’t be him because he had died somewhere foreign.
The knock came again.
Edie began to move but Gracie was quicker and flung the door open.
‘Ah, I’m Mister Ainsworth.’
‘I know — you’re looking for Edie,’ said Gracie and she turned and grinned at Edie. ‘The driving instructor,’ she said. Edie gave her a good dig in the ribs for her pointed tone and her cheeky smile.
‘Hello Virgil.’
‘I thought you might like to go for a spin, no charge. Just to keep your practice up. We don’t want you backsliding and crashing into anything else. You need to keep up your practice until you get your
