On the Beach

mounted and rode off. He had four miles to go to fetch the milk and cream, for the transport shortage now prevented all

The Royal Australian Navy was a very small fleet now.

for the paper famine had closed down all the daily newspapers and news now came by radio alone.

In the evening they would come down on the train, saddle their horses, strap the attaché case to the saddle, and ride home again.

He left his bicycle at the garage that had serviced his small car in bygone days. It serviced no cars now. Horses stood stabled where the cars had been, the horses of the business men who lived outside the town, who now rode in in jodhpurs and plastic coats to stable their horses while they commuted up to town in the electric train. The petrol pumps served them as hitching posts.

It was six-thirty when he got back.

But if I had a little trailer like you’ve got I could take her into Falmouth twice a week, and take the milk and cream along to Mrs. Holmes at the same time.” He paused. “I’d like to be able to do that for the wife,” he remarked. “After all, from what they say on the wireless, there’s not so long to go.”

She did try to learn to ride a bike but she’ll never make a go of it, not at her age and another baby on the way. I wouldn’t want her to try.

Not like it was before the war, when she could take the car and get into town in twenty minutes. The bullock cart takes three and a half hours, and three and a half hours back; that’s seven hours for travelling alone.

It’s mighty lonely for a woman in a place like this, these days,” he explained.