The Plantation - Di Morrissey [151]
‘Wonderful in many ways. Everyone was so kind and generous to us, especially the Red Cross and there was plenty of food, I could see Philip’s health and spirits improve day by day. Children can be very resilient. But we’d all been through rough times and were still fragile and finding it hard to adjust, even to a soft bed, and terribly anxious just to be home, well, it was still a bit stressful.’
‘And when you arrived back in Brisbane?’ asked Caroline.
Bette closed her eyes briefly and sighed, then returned to her story. ‘My mother Winifred, my father and Margaret were at the dock to meet us. It was very crowded. The injured servicemen were taken off first. I was so focused on Philip and making sure that he wasn’t lost or crushed among all the people on the wharf that I was unprepared for how overwhelmed I felt when I saw my own parents. I just wanted to rush into their arms and be held, like a small child. Margaret was crying and she held Philip so tight, smothering him and I’m not sure that the poor little boy even recognised her. I’d talked constantly to him about meeting his mummy and being home again, and he was excited when the moment came, but he was also quite bewildered because no one on that wharf was familiar.’
‘I suppose you were surrounded on the wharf by other emotional reunions, too,’ said Julie.
‘Very much so. But my father was great. He picked Philip up and sat him on his shoulders, showing him all the boats on the river and letting him sit in the front seat of the car so that by the time we got back home, Philip seemed to be very happy. But I soon realised that if I was out of his sight he’d become very shy and he’d come and look for me. Mother kept cooking her wonderful meals to build us both up. We were still painfully thin and she would tell Margaret not to expect the boy to sit on her lap and cuddle her all the time. “Let him come to you gradually,” she would say. But it was hard for Margaret, of course. She’d missed three and a half years of Philip’s life and she wanted their relationship to resume straight away. But I was so happy to be home. I remember that I took a walk around the garden and couldn’t help crying. I’d lived with the memory of this house, my room, the garden, recreating it all in my mind as a means of staying sane while I was in the camp. And now to find it all as I’d remembered, but more peaceful, the garden more beautiful, the song of the birds, well it brought me undone a little. Everything I’d bottled up all those years, the constant fears I’d had for Philip, just came gushing out. My father finally found me sitting, crying on the swing and he just stood there, his hand on top of my head, until I settled down a bit and then we took another stroll around the garden together. He made small talk, about his vegetables, news of neighbours, and how he planned to paint the house. When Philip came outside, calling for me, Dad patted my shoulder and just said, “I’m proud of you. I know that the rest of your life will be happy and good.” And it was.’
‘My poor brother. How did he finally adjust to his new life?’ asked Caroline.
‘It took some time. The first few nights he crept out of his room to curl up in bed with me as we’d done for so long, and I put him back into his bed early each morning so Margaret wouldn’t know. It was my father who suggested that I go away for a holiday. I needed a break and it was a chance for Philip to get used to his mother and new surroundings without me. Then I tried to start my own life again. I went to art school and then I moved to Sydney for a while. You can see the product of those classes, all these years later,’ said Bette, with a smile.
Julie was about to ask another question, but Caroline put a hand on her arm.
‘Bette, thank you for telling us all this. It must have been difficult for you. Of course we want to know more, but you look tired.’
Bette waved a dismissive hand. ‘Nonsense, I’m fine and after the war there were good times. Many good years. I’d like you to know about those. As you can imagine, after the