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    Stew and Sinkers
    Stew and Sinkers
    Stew and Sinkers
    Ebook199 pages2 hours

    Stew and Sinkers

    By David Vernon

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    About this ebook

    We weren’t the church going types but Sally didn’t want to get married in a garden. People don’t listen in gardens she’d said. Too many distractions with barking dogs and noisy kids. A wedding is an important thing apparently; vows should be absorbed by all guests. Not sure why this is a priority when the guest list boasts the likes of Sally’s Aunty Dot with uncontrollable gas and a penchant for yelling out to every passer-by to fetch her a beer. But who was I to question?

    — from "My Ernest Decision" by Kylie Orr

    “Yer 'usband.” Donohoe cocked the pistol. “Where is he?”
    Sarah froze.
    He crossed the room, jammed the pistol to her throat, so she coughed from the pressure of it.
    “Out with it, moll!”
    “Laying dingo traps,” she gasped.
    The pressure eased. “Anyone else 'ere?”
    She shook her head.
    A speculative gleam appeared in his eyes. “Well now,” he came closer, whispered in her ear, “’tis just the two of us.”

    — from "Stew and Sinkers" by Debra Booth

    Thirty award-winning short stories from the Stringybark 'Times Past' Short Fiction Awards entertainingly bring Australian history to life. From the first Australian hanging to twenty-first century medical care, these true stories will delight, challenge and intrigue the most demanding reader. Written by some of Australia's best contemporary short story writers, as well as new talent, each tale illuminates a forgotten part of Australia's history.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDavid Vernon
    Release dateSep 15, 2013
    ISBN9781301439409
    Stew and Sinkers
    Author

    David Vernon

    I am a freelance writer and editor. I am father of two boys. For the last few years I have focussed my writing interest on chronicling women and men’s experience of childbirth and promoting better support for pregnant women and their partners. Recently, for a change of pace, I am writing two Australian history books. In 2014 I was elected Chair of the ACT Writers Centre.In 2010 I established the Stringybark Short Story Awards to promote the short story as a literary form.

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      Book preview

      Stew and Sinkers - David Vernon

      Stew and Sinkers

      Thirty award-winning stories from the Stringybark ‘Times Past’ Short Fiction Award

      Edited by

      David Vernon

      Selected by

      Colin Campbell, Fleur Joyce, Margie Perkins and David Vernon

      Published by Stringybark Publishing

      PO Box 464, Hall, ACT 2618, Australia

      http://www.stringybarkstories.net

      Smashwords edition first published 2013

      Copyright: This revised collection, David Vernon, 2018

      Copyright: Individual stories, the authors, various.

      Some of these stories are works of fiction but based on real people and real events. Unless otherwise made clear (and we are sure you can figure it out), those mentioned in these stories are fictional characters and do not relate to anyone living or dead.

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this editor and the authors of these stories.

      Contents

      Introduction

      A Pure Soul — Kathryn Errey

      The Trumpet Call — Peter Cooper

      In Search of Africa — Marie Therese Kay

      The Summer We Moved House — Janeen Samuel

      The Drift of the Jenny — Michael Wilkinson

      Ted Trounson’s Kid — Frances Warren

      Crossed Out — Rosalind Moran

      Prelude to a Dream — Sophie Constable

      The Paterson Boys — Kerry Lown Whalen

      Strange Encounter — Jim Baker

      Bessell’s Creek — Jillian Brady

      Eleven Candles — Sharon Haste

      Shoes at Oyster Bay — Judy O’Connor

      Ursa Major — Kerry Cameron

      The Fight — Peter Smallwood

      A Proper Job — Pippa Kay

      My Ernest Decision — Kylie Orr

      Shadow Dancing — Pamela Janssen

      Stew and Sinkers — Debra Booth

      The Sleeper Passer — Gary Barber

      Run for Your Life — Shannon Garner

      Impatient — Samantha Wilson

      Woodsreef — Pippa Kay

      The First Hangman — Michael Wilkinson

      An Alien Hand — Jenny Kingsford

      A Micro Moment of History — Judy O’Connor

      Motherlines — Melissa Coffey

      Justice 1892 — Carmel Lillis

      Allawah Grove — Silda Trainor

      Baby Steps — Alexis Hailstones

      The Stringybark ‘Times Past’ Short Fiction Award

      About the Judges

      Acknowledgements

      Introduction

      — David Vernon

      This book is the seventeenth anthology of short stories from Stringybark Publishing’s short story awards. It consists of thirty stories that received highly commended awards (or won prizes) from the judges in the Stringybark ‘Times Past’ Short Fiction Awards.

      These stories are a mixture of fact and fiction. The guidance that writers received was to write a story based upon a true event. Thus between these pages you will find a wide range of tales — some will nearly be a completely factual re-telling of a real event, while others will be a highly fictionalized account. At the end of each story is a short paragraph outlining ‘the real facts’ so that you can identify how much is true and how much is supposition. This is history-telling at its finest.

      Some stories are grand-history — the retelling of a great event, but most of the stories illuminate the past by examining ‘small-history’ — enlisting for war, finding an abandoned ship, gold-discovery, a criminal hanging, school bullying or being excommunicated.

      Few of us are personally involved with grand-history. And those who are write their own memoirs of being Prime Minister, or General, or Discoverer of a New Drug. The stories here are invariably personal and thus have greater meaning and poignancy for readers — ‘there but for the Grace of God go I’. I am so delighted to collect these stories and protect for posterity these little gems that illustrate and create our shared history.

      The four judges, Colin ‘Colly’ Campbell, Fleur Joyce, Margie Perkins and David Vernon, read over 165 stories to bring you the cream of the entries. There is sure to be a story, or two or more that you will never forget.

      Reading and re-reading these stories reminds me why history is such an entertaining and fascinating genre of writing. Enjoy!

      David Vernon

      Judge and Editor

      Stringybark Stories

      September 2013

      A Pure Soul

      — Kathryn Errey

      Inside a cupboard in the Governor’s office in the Melbourne Gaol are the white, staring faces of twenty-nine murderers. Next to them lies the end of a rope, the hangman’s knot still preserved exactly as it was cut from the neck of the criminal, the loop barely bigger than an executioner’s wrist.

      I know because I saw them, for the cupboard doors were open when the Secretary ushered me inside. Captain Burrows is running late, he explained breathlessly. A spot of bother in the Western Wing, I’m afraid. Apologising profusely for the delay, he rushed away and left me alone in the room.

      While not possessed of a ghoulish temperament, I could not resist the opportunity to seek further acquaintance with my gruesome companions while I waited for the Governor’s return. There were few faces I recognised, most of them criminals from the sixties and seventies, the most recent that of Ernest Knox, executed on the twentieth of March this year of our Lord, 1894. I peered at them closely, astonished. There was nothing to show they had died a cruel death at the gallows; not a trace of the agony they must surely have felt could be seen. The expression on all of their faces was unquestionably one of utter and absolute peace.

      Are you a believer in the current Phrenology craze?

      A booming voice interrupted my somber thoughts. It was the Governor himself — a tall, well-built man sporting a head of thick, white hair (one lock of which was slightly askew). I wondered about the disturbance from which he had come and could not help thinking an errant prisoner would surely come away the worse for wear after an altercation with this man. Smoothing his hair back from his brow, Captain Burrows strode towards me and extended his hand. His handshake was vigorous — infectious even — and had the effect of infusing me with the same vitality that radiated from his person.

      Mrs Hutchinson? Delighted to meet you. You were studying the masks with such concentration, I assumed you were an adherent of the discipline so many seem taken with these days.

      I shook my head. I’m afraid I am a rank amateur as far as Phrenology is concerned, Captain Burrows. Of course, I hastened to add, I am sure there are many merits in its study —especially for a man in your position.

      The big man looked doubtful. I am not so sure. It seems to me somewhat odious to make such absolute judgments on a man’s character based entirely on the shape and size of his skull.

      I knew little of what the Governor was talking about but I nodded in agreement.

      Besides, Captain Burrows continued. I cannot believe that a head on its own can be the true indication of a man’s temperament. Why, there are many eminent men — politicians, judges, barristers — some with heavy brows, some with prominent jaws and others with weak chins — but I would not dare to presume their propensity towards criminality. Please — He indicated with his hand that I should follow him.

      Take the Chinaman, Gaa, for example. A phrenologist’s dream, one might say, with his narrow forehead, ridged skull and protruding jaw. But look now at Edward Kelly — a completely different set of facial features — see? Burrows traced a forefinger over the dead bushranger’s profile. Ned here has a strong chin and a broad, flat brow … and yet both he and Gaa are convicted murderers. Explain that if you please!

      I can’t, I’m afraid.

      Exactly! And that is the point I am trying to make. For I believe it is only in the eyes where we can truly catch a glimpse of the truth that lies in a man’s heart. Mrs Hutchinson, tell me: what do you notice is true of all these effigies?

      I took a guess. Their eyes are closed?

      Indeed you are right! Look closely. There is nothing in these faces to betray a criminal disposition. He leaned forward and peered at one of the masks. I cannot detect even the slightest suggestion of facial expression that remains on this murderer’s face — or indeed, on any of them. It is as almost as though their features froze at the exact moment of their death and left nothing behind. Do you not agree?

      I nodded, the man’s fervency and aplomb rendering me quite incapable of speech.

      Suddenly the Governor’s face reddened. But I am boring you with my bombast, Mrs Hutchinson, he said. Please forgive me and come and sit down for there is another matter of far greater importance about which I wish to speak with you today. He waved his arm towards a chair then took his own behind his desk.

      I hope you do not mind me saying but I am a great admirer of the work of the Salvation Army here in the Gaol — especially yours, Mrs Hutchinson.

      I smiled and inclined my head.

      Your devoted service to God through our fallen sisters is well known. I understand there even exists a testimonial signed by nearly every member of the Melbourne Police Force thanking you for your assistance to wayward women and girls. It seems to me you have dedicated your life to the fallen and the outcast. The Governor leaned back in his chair, resting his thumbs on the swell of his belly, his fingers forming a capital ‘A’. He appeared to be deep in thought.

      Have you met Martha Needle? he asked suddenly.

      Not yet, I replied. I understand she is only receiving counsel from the Reverend Scott at this time.

      I was intrigued for Martha Needle was the current talk of Melbourne. Nicknamed ‘The Richmond Poisoner’, she was recently convicted of the murder of her fiancé’s brother with arsenic. She was also alleged to have poisoned her husband and three little girls.

      "Now she is a conundrum, would you not agree?"

      In what sense do you mean, Captain Burrows?

      In the light of all the evidence arrayed against her, Mrs Needle still insists she is perfectly innocent of the charge of murder. Reverend Scott says he has never seen anyone so inflexible and persistent … Burrows smiled. He believes she would be an excellent subject for mental scientists and students of criminology.

      I am aware of the Reverend’s views regarding Mrs Needle, Sir.

      The Governor cocked his head to one side. I take it you do not agree with him?

      On many matters, Sir, my views differ from those of Reverend Scott. May I speak frankly?

      I was hoping you would.

      If it is true the authorities wish for Martha Needle to confess to her crimes before her execution, I believe the current methods being employed are entirely unsuitable. I hesitated, unsure if I should continue.

      Please go on, Mrs Hutchinson.

      "How can we expect Mrs Needle to make a full confession when we make no effort to discover her true state of mind? And why does Reverend Scott in his interviews with the newspapers insist upon calling her an ‘instinctual criminal’? Can we not show the wretched woman some compassion? I understand Mrs Needle was informed her fiancé no longer believes she is innocent and that afterwards, she fell into a rage and refused to speak with anybody further. Why was she told such a thing if the desire is for her to soften and repent? Personally, I cannot think of a worse way to achieve such an end."

      The words escaped from my mouth before I could stop them. Fearful that Captain Burrows had taken offence, I met his eyes but saw only a broad smile.

      "Bravo, Mrs Hutchinson! Everything you have just said confirms my belief I was right in calling you here today. And now, it is my turn to speak frankly. Captain Burrows fastened his bright, eager eyes upon mine. I too have questioned the clumsy tactics of the Reverend and his helpers and believe you are the right person for this task. Can I count on you, Mrs Hutchinson, to encourage Mrs Needle to open her heart? Will you help a guilty woman ascend the scaffold with a clear conscience and a pure soul so she might find eternal peace before God?"

      I was taken aback. I had already guessed Captain Burrows might request that I visit Martha Needle and offer her spiritual comfort. But for the purposes of obtaining a confession? And from such a troubled soul? Such a responsibility could not be taken lightly.

      Captain Burrows, I am honoured you seek to entrust me with such a task, but —

      I hesitated. Suddenly, I saw again the row of faces in the Governor’s cabinet. Perhaps they too had confessed and been granted absolution before their own cruel deaths. In three weeks’ time, Martha’s face would join that macabre parade. I made my decision. I must do everything possible to ensure her final expression was also one of infinite peace. God would expect no less of me.

      The facts:

      Captain Burrows was the Governor of the Melbourne Gaol when Martha Needle was imprisoned and later executed on October 22, 1894. Annie Hutchinson, an Officer in the Salvation Army, ministered to Martha Needle in Gaol and attended her execution. This story is a fictional account of their first meeting.

      The ‘death masks’ of all executed prisoners were once housed in the Governor’s office but are now on display in the Old Melbourne Gaol Museum. Phrenology was a 'pseudo-science', popular in the nineteenth century, which decreed it was possible to determine a criminal personality from the shape of a person’s head.

      Kathryn Errey has always loved writing and history and has worked as a senior history teacher, a political speechwriter and an Aide to the Governor of South Australia. An emerging writer, she has recently completed her first novel, An Abnormal Woman, a work of fiction about Martha Needle, the Richmond Poisoner, executed in Melbourne in 1894.

      The Trumpet Call

      — Peter Cooper

      The talk in the papers had been going on for months, but now that war had actually been declared there was a sudden sense of excitement. Australia had pledged 21,000 men to fight for the Empire and the recruitment posters were already appearing in the streets.

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