Northern Star UK Bound

We were seen off at Sydney by our family and our Gorokan neighbours. Also at the docks was one of dad’s fabulously wealthy work friends. However dad was not at all happy when this man leered at me and asked where he had been hiding me. Perhaps I looked older than fifteen but not by much. Eventually everyone who was not going disembarked and we were moved out into the harbour. Our route was Wellington, Auckland, Rarotonga, Tahiti, Acapulco, Panama, Curacao, Trinidad, Barbados, Lisbon and Southampton.

What  I remember of the journey was mostly dad in a rage. He had rarely spent any time with us since we hit our teens and he had no idea how to deal with us except by threat and intimidation. My brother and I shared a cabin with mum and dad and my sister shared with three other girls in their twenties.

Pretty quickly my sister got to know an older crowd and also hung around with the young sailors after they finished their shifts. Two of them asked if they could take my sister and I horseback riding in Wellington when we arrived. They asked dad and mum and it was arranged without me really being spoken to. My sister had ridden horses quite a few times but I had never been on one before. Wellington is quite hilly and the horses spirited. My horse bolted and raced down around this hilly track. The sailor who was assigned to me was furious that they had not found out if I had ridden before.  He was very angry with my sister and my dad actually and very kind and considerate of me. He was really frightened something could have happened to me.

We loved Auckland and I especially loved Tahiti. I had dreamt of going there since watching James A Mitchener’s Adventures in Paradise on television. And to my absolute delight the Tikki 111 was there. It was truly paradise to me, the markets, the beaches, the people. I could have stayed for weeks. Every time we made port I sent postcards off to my friends in Australia. Sometimes I would find mail waiting for me at various ports.

I also really loved Acapulco and so did mum. She had a lovely time and looked very pretty in the fitted cotton dresses I made her for the trip. They were perfect for the cooler weather. Unfortunately for me dad thought she looked pretty too and so I had to regularly amuse my brother elsewhere while they had time alone together.

Meantime my sister partied and had a great time, though she did have to join us for meals. It eventually started to get colder and we were grateful that mum and dad had taken us to meet our aunt and uncle at Kotara Fair in Newcastle to shop for warmer clothes. I found two gorgeous dinner dresses and some  pantsuits and skirts while my sister had flares and jeans. Very fashionable, she looked fantastic in her new gear.

Some of the sailors thought so too and she used to go to their quarters and drink with them. They were not much older than her. It was fairly innocent though I was pretty naive so maybe it was not the case. Anyway dad created a huge scene by following her one night. He dragged her out of the cabin and then stood shouting in front of everyone that he needed to smell her fingers. To see if they smelled of sex. She was so humiliated and he screamed at her that he could smell men on her. It would more likely have been some of the hippy ladies there in the cabin smoking dope etc.

We spent an awful few days while dad raged at her and everyone. He was only pleasant to people who were not family. It was a pleasure to get nearer to England so we could have some distance from dad and his temper. For some reason though he relented and let her attend a deck party the sailors etc were throwing as a farewell. Only thing was I had to go chaperone her. It was not pleasant. The fellow who had asked her horse riding in Wellington decided it was me he had been after all along and I ended up dancing with him and trying to dodge his hands and his tongue from down my throat when he decided to French Kiss me. It made me feel sick, he tasted of what I think was Gin and garlic and I was having trouble getting away from him. But who was I to spoil her fun? It was not a pleasant evening and it took all my wiles to keep him out of my pants. I really grew up quickly that night.

In London we found lodging in a boarding house. My sister and I were in a dormitory room downstairs with lots of older girls who did not speak English and mum and dad were with my brother in a room upstairs. One night I awoke to see someone rifling through my sisters things. I shouted and the burglar bolted out of the door onto the street. My sister did not stop to think she just shot off after him. I could not believe it, she was out there in her nightie and I think she grabbed her dressing gown and just ran. I made a lot of noise and the girls woke up and checked their passports. Then I ran upstairs and woke mum and dad who were a bit perplexed. Then dad took off after my sister. He found her running down Carnaby Street. It was about 4am!

We shopped for warm outerwear. My sister had her heart set on a black woollen double breasted maxi coat with brass buttons and dad was against it. I wanted one in a different colour. Mum convinced dad to let her have it but I was considered too young. Instead I was found the most amazing suede coat with fringing. It was short too, a mini. If the idea was to keep me looking my age it backfired, I looked quite HOT! I can still see that short coat now, one of the most amazing things ever. Apart from my Kangaroo bag.

Eventually after a week sightseeing in London we made our way to Lincolnshire to mum’s parents where we met lots of aunts, uncles and cousins. And they met my brother for the first time. My mum and dad and sister and brother went for long walks but I just wanted to be near my grandma and grandad, reading and watching them over the top of my books. Eight long years without grandparents, it was so wonderful to have them now.

We then went on to Eire to dad’s family where we had wonderful conversations with cousins of cousins of cousins and with aunts and uncles too. The conversation never flagged and it was so good to see Grannie, my namesake, again. Somewhere along the way though  dad decided we were returning to Australia. Just like that. No discussion. Mum was heartbroken as he would not let her call her family or go to see them before we left. We rented a cabin in Southampton while we waited for a ship back.

 

 

 

 

The Good Girl

We arrived in Wyong in late September, and we rented a house as soon as we could and dad started work and we started school. Mum was very sociable and made friends with the neighbours quickly. We attended Mass at The Town Hall where services were held and came to know the Irish priests and nuns. Really loved our Scripture Teacher too. After a while dad bought our first home. A little fibro cottage with a cabin at the side near the main road. We were blessed with the best neighbours ever. Sydneysiders as they were called, who came up every second weekend.

By then my sister and I were not getting on. She had found a group of much older girls and some boys and she used to go into the deep bush behind the cottage all day when not at school. I did not like these friends, did not trust them and dad told me not to play in the bush due to snakes etc. I was happy playing with my dolls, rereading every book I owned.  I read and reread Little Women and Heidi so many times that I  knew the stories by heart. Our school was fun and I loved being able to get away from my sister. As soon as the school bus arrived we would go our separate ways. I was a bit of a teachers pet and over the last years at primary school my sister got into a lot of trouble with the teacher who considered me one of her pets!

Our sponsors lived in Swansea, Lake Macquarie and we regularly visited them. Dad said we had holidays at Belmont every year however I have no memory of that. Though on a visit about ten years ago my dad asked me if I knew where I was and I straight away said the Newsagents our sponsors owned! Dad said to my mum that was incredible and he is right! My parents later retired to Lake Macquarie.

After a year or two my mum’s brother and three children arrived and stayed in the cabin until they settled in the Hunter Valley. It was so wonderful to have them. We frolicked on the beaches and enjoyed being part of a bigger family again. They used to drive to see us every fortnight after church and mum and Aunty S combine home made pies etc to make the most incredible picnics.

When I was ten my brother was born. I remember once dad telling us he had to take mum to Gosford to the hospital which was at least thirty minutes away. It was a false alarm and about a week later we woke up to a new baby brother. Dad had taken mum in the middle of the night to the hospital to give birth.  Both my sister and I looked after him a lot, changed his nappies. I remember asking my mum what his testicles were for. I got the same answer as when I accidentally caught her breast exposed when she fed him. She told me I had a dirty mind and asked too many questions and both mum and my sister shooed me out of the house.

I had a lonely childhood, kept to myself except when at school. My salvation came every two weeks when the Sydney neighbours arrived. Apparently they used to see my face squashed against the glass, waiting patiently for them to turn up. We used to play Ludo, Snakes and Ladders, Twister and card games in the evening. Other evenings they would come into our house to watch television. In the day time we loved dressing up and playing shop in the cabin at the back of our property.

By then Uncle M dad’s brother had arrived. He used to play a lot with me too and had a habit of emptying his pockets of coppers which we divided between my sister and myself. I used to buy writing pads and pencils and write stories, and read lots of books from the library.

One evening dad was really late and mum asked Uncle M to look for him, my sister being a real tomboy by then went with him. I stayed home and tried to keep mum calm and to this day I do not know how I knew to do it or have the courage either, but I smacked her hard across the face because she had started screaming. And would not stop. I believe I was ten. She calmed down and said she was sorry and I kept her spirits up until Uncle M got back and said dad had crashed, they had found him in the bush near Charmhaven. Dad had a drink on Friday nights at the pub there and after that he never went there after work again.

Mum and dad took us fishing at the beaches and dropped us off at weekends, by ourselves, to snorkel and swim at Canton Beach. My sister was in charge of me but I usually ended up on my own. Which was fine with me. I was friendly but cautious and found many playmates at Canton Beach. Mum was very worried about perverts etc, she warned us repeatedly to not talk to men or go off with any male of any age. If only she had known the person I had to fear lived at home and had been molesting me since we arrived late in 1962.

I was such a good girl, it was just the way I was and maybe that is why I went along with it, though I was really frightened and bullied into silence. I tried so hard to stay up, to watch television late. Anything to avoid getting in that double bed with my sister. My mother used to rage at me, slap me, it was obviously mum and dads time and I was infringing on their time. I did not care. I was naughty to avoid what I knew was in store for me.

My sister obviously had been molested by a much older girl and she had somehow found a pack of deviants here.  They used to lock me in the shed at the back and put large marbles inside my vagina. They would tell me to hold them tight, so they did not fall out. They rolled the big marbles over my clitoris, repeatedly. Eventually they put other things up into my vagina. There were bigger boys in the shed too. I do not know if I was abused by them too. I blocked so much of this until my forties, just do not know.

I do remember the long long sessions of masturbation my sister inflicted on me in bed. Did not matter that I cried, or refused, she would stroke me with her fingers and it did feel good.  I hated her but God I liked it. The end result, how sick is that? She would then say her turn and I had to masturbate her. Repeatedly. But the worst part for me, and I do not know why, is that she would make me suck my fingers to clean them afterwards. Someone taught her that, it was so our parents who slept in the same room would not get the scent of sex. It made me retch. When she made me do that, hit me and pinched me until I did, then I knew I was doing something really wrong and that God would see it and strike me down. Well He did not help in any way.

When we made our Confirmation the sisters guessed something was wrong between my sister and I. They offered me a full scholarship to Kinkoppal in Sydney. Mum would not let me go, because she thought the nuns would molest me. How ironic. I told the priest in confession and he gave me so much penance I never raised it again, with anyone until I was in my forties. Eventually Uncle M moved overseas and my sister moved into the cabin. She never touched me again sexually after that but she became nastier, more vicious. I was frightened of her then and still am to this day.