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132 pages

English

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Frederick Bennett, from an Irish Catholic family in Bendigo, travelled to Melbourne to seek his fortune. There he met Vida Bunting, eighth child of Samuel and Elleanora, at the beginning of the First World War. Their friendship blossomed but life didn't treat them kindly. Religious differences soon became apparent making for difficult situations. There was separation, a birth, death, kidnapping and turmoil impacting on little Nina's life. But Nina's beginnings gave her strength to face life with a cheerful outlook.

Sujets

Santé et bien-être

Développement personnel

Personal Memoirs

Biography

Autobiography

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Publié par	Xlibris AU
Date de parution	14 mars 2023
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781669832874
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0050€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

BLOSSOM

Margaret Kinton

Copyright © 2023 by Margaret Kinton.

Library of Congress Control Number:
2022920957
ISBN:
Hardcover
978-1-6698-3289-8

Softcover
978-1-6698-3288-1

eBook
978-1-6698-3287-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 03/02/2023

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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
About the Author

17/08/22
The beginning of the 1914 war saw most lives thrown into disarray as Australia prepared for the coming conflict.
Religion had a large place in most lives, but there was also a great divide between Catholics and Protestants. The clergy were held in high esteem and influenced the everyday lives of working people.
The outbreak of the war altered Australian society in many ways, with the birth of more illegitimate children, absent fathers, and changes in living conditions.
After the war, returning soldiers had trouble settling back into their communities, while those families who had lost loved ones felt more alienated than most.
This is Nina’s story . . .

To my mother, who was my inspira tion.
Chapter 1

Bendigo, 1914
Mrs Bennett leaned against the kitchen sink and dried her eyes. Frederick was gone, and it was no good being silly about it, she told herself.
Two weeks ago, everything had been so predictable, so organised and controllable, but now with Frederick gone, life seemed all at sixes and sevens. Frederick was the first of her brood to leave the nest, and she was having great difficulty coming to grips with the situation. She tried to pull herself together. It was to be expected, she told herself, that grown-up children should want to leave home, but she had not thought that it would be the youngest. She put on her apron and got on with the dinner so that when her husband returned from the station, the meal was ready to be put on the table.
‘Frederick got away all right then?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ said Mr Bennett bluntly.
Her husband was a man of very few words at the best of times, and she knew she would get nothing more from him. She took the roast out of the oven and put the vegetables into the serving dishes, ready for the dining room table.
Mrs Bennett was a short robust woman, always tightly corseted, which held her large bosom high and her back ramrod straight. You could tell she was a fastidious woman just by looking at her. She never left the house unless she was properly turned out – hat, gloves, and well-polished shoes. She was of the old school that believed that cleanliness was next to godliness, and her whole life revolved around this tenet. She was always ready to pounce on a speck of dirt or an object out of place. Her only aid to beauty was soap and water, with which she scrubbed herself daily, followed by a good rubdown with a rough towel. This regime left her cheeks with a rosy glow and her whole face the appearance of polished leather. Her sparse hair was held firmly in place by a tight bun.
Her whole life revolved around her family, her home, and the church – but not always in that order. Every morning she rose early to attend Mass at St Killen’s Roman Catholic Church, which was situated conveniently a few steps from her front door. She tried to encourage her adult children to accompany her to morning Mass, but her daughter, Lucy, a teacher at the school attached to the church, was the only one to attend regularly. Lucy did not have a deep religious conviction but felt it was her duty to set a good example to her pupils.
After Mass, Mrs Bennett rushed home to prepare a substantial breakfast for her family before they left the house. Then she watched with pride as they set off for work with their hair brushed and shoes freshly polished – all except Fred, that is. Fred was always the black sheep – always was and always would be, she suspected. He had become a fitter and turner when he left school, against her better advice. She would have liked him to follow her other sons into retailing or the grocery business like her husband or even into school teaching like Lucy, but he would have none of it.
‘None of that women’s work for me,’ he liked to say. ‘There is nothing wrong with a bit of good, honest dirt.’
This always sent a shiver down Mrs Bennett’s spine as she imagined him standing on the dirty factory floor in the mess and grime amongst uncouth, rough men with their coarse talk. She had never actually had any contact with any of Frederick’s work friends and had no desire to do so, but it was how she imagined them.
No amount of arguing could persuade him to seek a cleaner occupation. She had pointed out many times that his father and his brothers still performed useful work without getting their hands dirty, but her advice fell on deaf ears. She tried to send him off looking spic and span, but by the time he came home in the evening, he was black from head to toe and his thick wavy hair a matted mass under his cap. Still, she thought he was the only one who was willing to cut wood and do the dirty jobs around the house, and for that, she was grateful.
After the family left the house in the morning, Mrs Bennett set about her chores to her strict timetable – washing on Mondays, ironing on Tuesdays, day after day until it was time to start again the next week. Her housekeeping was much admired by her neighbours, although most knew they could never attain her high standards. The house always stood out from the others in the street. The windows glistened like crystal, and the brass front doorstep sometimes caught the sunlight with such intensity that people shaded their eyes when they passed by.
Mrs Bennett’s family were well schooled in her household rules, dutifully removing their shoes at the back door, where they donned slippers before they entered the house. After years of nagging, the children automatically straightened the towel after they washed their hands and made sure there was no soap scum around the hand basin. They had learnt early in life that it was much easier to obey the rules of the household than incur their mother’s wrath. Over the years, vigorous cleaning with White Lily had worn away the surfaces of the bathroom fittings, making it necessary to replace the bath and basin twice during her marriage.
Friday was Mrs Bennett’s day to clean the church. She basked in the peace, solitude, and holiness of the building and felt that God was looking down on her as she polished the brass fittings and arranged fresh flowers around the altar. Often she would pause during her cleaning to pray and review her life. Father Maloney often appeared during the morning to pass the time of day, commenting on the weather or some other inconsequential trivia. Later, she would go over the conversation, wishing she had said this or that or thinking about how he must have thought her silly for saying certain things.
This usually led her into her favourite daydream, where she had become a nun instead of a housewife and which, at times, she still thought was her true vocation. She had asked her mother to agree to let her become a nun but was told that she was needed at home to help look after her many brothers and sisters. It seemed to her as if life was one long daily grind of cleaning, washing, and cooking. And to what end? she often asked herself. A life of quiet contemplation seemed like heaven itself.
Mrs Bennett had married William Bennett when she was barely 17, and nine and a half months later, Lucy had been born, followed at two-yearly intervals by Alexander, Thomas, and Joseph. Later, there was a second girl who had only lived a few days, causing her great sadness, but then a year later, Frederick was born.
When Frederick was born, his mother was still grieving for the lost little soul whose life had slipped away so easily. She was convinced that Fred was going to be a girl to replace the dead baby, but instead, she was handed a large screaming boy. She was very disappointed but tried not to show it.
It took her a long time to get over the birth, during which time she did a lot of thinking. She decided that she did not want and, in fact, could not cope with any more c