CHAPTER NINE
ASHES TO ASHES ©
The morning dawned with a golden hue over the distant Sugarloaf Mountain.
Louisa sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. She had been awake for awhile, with dread in her heart of the day to come.
The children had taken in all she had told them about the funeral last night. After their many questions she was exhausted. Sleep had come to her easily but not for long.
She knew it was useless trying to get back to sleep when she woke earlier, so she rose and did the chores for the day. Once she had finished, she washed and found Alfred’s favourite dress. She would dress for him today no matter what was said. Besides she didn’t have money to waste on mourning clothes, she thought.
The Undertaker was meeting them at the Church. The Reverend Duncan had called in yesterday afternoon to make arrangements for the service.9
It was going to be a long day. The Service was scheduled for one o’clock. She would have preferred the morning when the children were fresh and less fussy with tiredness. They would have to have their meal early so there was no rumbling of tummies.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of little feet and many voices.
After breakfast she needed to get them all outside for some play and hopefully Ethel down for a quick nap.
Everything seemed to go as planned and midday saw them all bundled back into the wagon and heading into town.
As she pulled up outside the Church of England, she noticed with pride that many of the regulars from the Sugarloaf Inn and neighbouring farms, had come to pay their respects.
She sat in a daze of disbelief inside the Church with the children. They were all very quiet and subdued. The shock of it all was slowly starting to show in their faces. Their Pa had not come home and they were finally accepting that he was never going to do so.
Louisa bundled the children into the wagon again after the service for the short trip to the burial ground.
“Ashes to ashes...” she heard through her grief, then the Undertaker was bringing her a bucket. What am I supposed to do with this, she thought. Then seeing the contents of the bucket she remembered and gathered the children around her and gave each of them a clump of dirt. It was all she could do to stop Ethel from eating it. One by one her six little men dropped the dirt on top of the coffin and then she and Ethel followed and did the same.
It was bitterly cold, a typical end of July day. She would need to get the children home quickly as dark would descend on them very soon at this time of year. Hopefully few would want to linger at the graveside afterwards in this wind, she thought.
Everyone was tired, hungry and just a little grumpy on the trip home. There was none of the usual singing, they all pulled their scarves up over their mouths to keep out the icy wind.
Later that night she again wandered around the bedroom, seeking sleep and missing Alfred’s snoring.
“Oh how had I ever thought this room small,” she whispered as she glanced out the window at the stars.
CHAPTER TEN
SO MANY QUESTIONS ©
Sleep finally came to her with troubled dreams. She woke in a cold sweat and made her way to the window again.
She found herself talking to a star again, could Alfred really be looking down on her? “I don’t know what to do Alfred. The Undertaker wants me to fill in your details on this form, so your death can be registered. There are so many things that I still don’t know. It never seemed important when you were with me. I always thought I had time to ask you later.” She sighed as the star seem to flicker with her words.
“ I don’t know your Mother’s name, why is that? I remember you saying you were born in Waber, Sweden, but how is it spelt, you always said it real funny.”
She filled in the form as best she could. But there was one thing really troubling her.
“ They want to know your age when we married. How can I put 52, the same age as when you died. Everyone would know that we hadn’t been married until this year. I don’t think I could stand the shame. How would the children feel? Why do they need to know this and what business is it of their’s anyway? I think I will put 39, the age you were when we had Alfred Jr.” She placed the form on the dresser, the Undertaker would collect it in the morning.
The following days seemed to run into each other. Each day she got up, fed the children, did their lessons and then sent them out to play. The older boys helped where they could, but they couldn’t by law help in the bar. So they took over some of Alfred’s chores where they were able and looked after the little ones, when Louisa had to be somewhere else.
And somewhere else she had to be most of the day. The bar was open from ten in the morning until six in the evening. She served behind the bar and cleared the tables and mantles, taking the glasses out to the kitchen for Alfred, Magnus and Peter to wash and return to her. Ethel was growing fast, but for the time being, thank heavens, she was content to play with her blocks and dolly on the floor behind the bar. Louisa became very adept at serving, stepping over her daughter at her feet. The boys took her outside at different times, but Louisa was happier when she was with her.
Louisa decided that at least until summer she would open the bar an hour later each day. This would give her precious time with the children and let them be just children for a small part of the day. She so looked forward to the weekends. The time was spent catching up on household chores and cooking for the following week. She had decided after Alfred’s death that for the time being she would close the lodging part of the Inn. She didn’t feel comfortable having guests stay when it was just her and the children on her own. The money from the bar was steady and kept them all well fed and clothed.
Soon came the day that she had been dreading. She was out the back hanging washing early one Monday morning. The copper bubbled with boiling water in the shed behind her. She thought with pride how good Alfred was now at lighting the fire and having the copper ready for her to start the washing promptly, early each Monday morning.
Bang bang bang, she realised that someone was knocking with some force on the front door of the Inn. Wiping her cold and roughened hands quickly on her apron, she hurried to get to the door before the children.
Opening the door, she was greeted by the Magistrate, Mr Lawson, “Good morning Mrs Brandt, may I have a word?”
“Come in, out of the cold, Mr Lawson, the weather is finally turning but the mornings are still brisk aren’t they?”
Leading him into the bar area, as the children were in the kitchen, she wondered if the day had finally come.
9 Australia, Death Index, 1787-1985, Index Reg#8157 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2010, Name of Minister, accessed 18 August 2015 ,http://www.ancestry.com.au
She found herself talking to a star again, could Alfred really be looking down on her? “I don’t know what to do Alfred. The Undertaker wants me to fill in your details on this form, so your death can be registered. There are so many things that I still don’t know. It never seemed important when you were with me. I always thought I had time to ask you later.” She sighed as the star seem to flicker with her words.
“ I don’t know your Mother’s name, why is that? I remember you saying you were born in Waber, Sweden, but how is it spelt, you always said it real funny.”
She filled in the form as best she could. But there was one thing really troubling her.
“ They want to know your age when we married. How can I put 52, the same age as when you died. Everyone would know that we hadn’t been married until this year. I don’t think I could stand the shame. How would the children feel? Why do they need to know this and what business is it of their’s anyway? I think I will put 39, the age you were when we had Alfred Jr.” She placed the form on the dresser, the Undertaker would collect it in the morning.
The following days seemed to run into each other. Each day she got up, fed the children, did their lessons and then sent them out to play. The older boys helped where they could, but they couldn’t by law help in the bar. So they took over some of Alfred’s chores where they were able and looked after the little ones, when Louisa had to be somewhere else.
And somewhere else she had to be most of the day. The bar was open from ten in the morning until six in the evening. She served behind the bar and cleared the tables and mantles, taking the glasses out to the kitchen for Alfred, Magnus and Peter to wash and return to her. Ethel was growing fast, but for the time being, thank heavens, she was content to play with her blocks and dolly on the floor behind the bar. Louisa became very adept at serving, stepping over her daughter at her feet. The boys took her outside at different times, but Louisa was happier when she was with her.
Louisa decided that at least until summer she would open the bar an hour later each day. This would give her precious time with the children and let them be just children for a small part of the day. She so looked forward to the weekends. The time was spent catching up on household chores and cooking for the following week. She had decided after Alfred’s death that for the time being she would close the lodging part of the Inn. She didn’t feel comfortable having guests stay when it was just her and the children on her own. The money from the bar was steady and kept them all well fed and clothed.
Soon came the day that she had been dreading. She was out the back hanging washing early one Monday morning. The copper bubbled with boiling water in the shed behind her. She thought with pride how good Alfred was now at lighting the fire and having the copper ready for her to start the washing promptly, early each Monday morning.
Bang bang bang, she realised that someone was knocking with some force on the front door of the Inn. Wiping her cold and roughened hands quickly on her apron, she hurried to get to the door before the children.
Opening the door, she was greeted by the Magistrate, Mr Lawson, “Good morning Mrs Brandt, may I have a word?”
“Come in, out of the cold, Mr Lawson, the weather is finally turning but the mornings are still brisk aren’t they?”
Leading him into the bar area, as the children were in the kitchen, she wondered if the day had finally come.
9 Australia, Death Index, 1787-1985, Index Reg#8157 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2010, Name of Minister, accessed 18 August 2015 ,http://www.ancestry.com.au
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