2011 - Theses - Flinders University

Becky hears him, though. Not words, not a strong deep voice lifted above the rabble ofchildren, but something as sudden and hidden as a birdcall, lilting of London in the dry,shifting air. A Londoner! Becky does what can only be called peering, holding up a corner ofthe blanket to watch, unseen, as filigrees of Home trace their way into her camp.It was true Jim had been found. Topping a rise, children had streamed towards him, and hehad held up a hand shakily above the handlebars and called out ‘Hello!’ They inexplicablyturned tail and fled back the way they had come. None were fully dressed, although all hadsome piece of clothing draped about them, he noticed. Suddenly the fire in his thighsbecomes too much and he dismounts his bicycle, and wheels it. The children are nowhere insight now, but a still group of men in trousers, shirts and hats are observing his slow progresstowards the gate closed across the track. Jim wonders if he should wave again, or call outsome religious sentiment like Will Wade would, but in indecision opts for neither. He is assilent in his approach as they are in their waiting.Jim can see that the men are standing on the other side of a fence line, beside the widefarm gate he must pass through. He is sweating now, with nerves, thinking How can I openthe gate without my bicycle falling and me looking like an inept fool? So he halts before hereaches the gate, steadying the bike with one hand and a hip, and raises the other arm high ingreeting. There is no way they haven’t seen him, yet there is no movement, no responses.Having stopped and waved, Jim can’t go any further, and he feels rooted to his side of thegate, in a kind of fear, and an overriding politeness. Which is just as well. The others are inno rush to meet him, not yet.87