A Respectable Veneer


 
 
 
 A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand.
 
 eISBN 978-1-990003-96-7
 
 An Upstart Press Book
 Published in 2023 by Upstart Press Ltd
 26 Greenpark Road, Penrose, Auckland 1061, New Zealand
 
 Text © Rachel Doré 2023
 The moral right of the author has been asserted.
 Design and format © Upstart Press Ltd 2023
 
 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
 
 Cover designed by www.redinc.co.nz
 Internal Design by www.cvdgraphics.nz
 
 
 
 1
 Ruby woke when the rattle of the train changed pitch. Perhaps they’d crossed a bridge. Soon, the clacking rhythm steadied. She closed her eyes again. It was too late; sleep had been dropped somewhere back up the line. Her hip was cramped. The arm she had around her sleeping daughter was numb. Flexing her legs, she was sharply reminded of the blister on her heel. Stupid of her to wear good shoes for the dash to the station. There had been just enough time to step out of her evening gown, have a quick wash and get into day clothes; no time for decisions.
 The journey from Auckland seemed interminable. As Edie stirred and opened her eyes, Ruby straightened. Standing up to stretch was out of the question without drawing attention to herself. She leaned back.
 From the carriage window the two of them watched the scenery change. Bushland and steep hillsides of blackened stumps were left behind. The train chuffed past slopes bristling with young pine. Paddocks of farm animals and haysheds were scenes straight out of a children’s book; a woman wearing an army greatcoat over her apron trudged behind a line of cows; a boy carried a bucket to a gate; drifts of smoke from a chimney veiled a line of dark trees in the background. Edie waved at an old man who lifted his arm as the train passed his paint-bare house.
 Then there were timber mills, work sheds, the odd homestead with an orchard. More swards of green.
 ‘A palomino!’ cried Edie. ‘Mum, did you see?’
 Ruby pressed her shoulders against the back of the seat. Edie had been pointing out horses ever since farmland came into view. It was just as well she’d slept some of the way. Now, Ruby wanted to settle back into the cradling rhythm and the blank calm that soothed her.
 ‘A mansion!’ Edie’s squeal rent Ruby’s hope of peace. ‘A real mansion! Oh, Mum — you missed it.’
 She hadn’t missed the grand old place. It was glimpsed over trees, with verandahs garlanded with some sort of climber, the foliage thinning in the grip of autumn. Half a picture, half-seen, half-imagined. Gone in a flash.
 ‘You should’ve looked,’ said Edie. ‘It was enormous. It prob’ly had seventy rooms at least!’
 ‘Shush!’ Ruby glanced at the bemused faces of fellow passengers and yanked Edie’s herringbone coat. ‘Sit down and be quiet!’
 Before long, Edie was standing at the window again. She returned the salute of a gaggle of children standing by the tracks. The train rumbled past a cluster of modest houses, timber-framed stock yards and tin sheds. More paddocks; more animals. Ruby closed her eyes.
 ‘Glaxo?’ said Edie. ‘What’s Glaxo? That building…’
 ‘That’s where baby milk comes from, I suppose.’ Ruby twisted her neck to see, but it was behind them already.
 Edie frowned and leaned back on her seat, pensive for a moment. Then she was back at the window.
 A few old houses nestled next to sheds near the railway line. There were gravel driveways; big storage tanks: Atlantic, Caltex. They had reached the town outskirts. Swarms of men on bicycles left work yards, and cars of various vintages streamed onto the road. Men with homes to go to. Most likely they’d go to the pub first, to get a jug of beer in before six o’ clock closing time.
 ‘Look at that!’ Edie said. ‘Two steamrollers and trucks full of dirt. What are they doing?’
 Ruby clenched her teeth.
 The train rattled on.
 ‘Ooh, they’re wrecking that place there–’ Edie had her finger on the glass. ‘What were they doing that for?’
 ‘For goodness’ sake! Be quiet and get your fingers off the window,’ said Ruby. ‘You’ll get yourself all dirty!’
 ‘Mum! Shops!’ Edie squealed. ‘Look!’
 Ruby grabbed her daughter before she crossed the carriage to get another view through the opposite window. In truth, Ruby was just as interested to see the place, but she couldn’t allow Edie to show her up like that, behaving like an unruly rapscallion.
 ‘Sit down and behave!’ She pulled Edie’s coat again.
 Edie plopped herself back on the seat with a sour frown.
 Wide, flat roads on each side of the train line were banked with business premises of every kind. Edwardian buildings sat alongside more modern ones; old wooden shops and others with ornate plaster frontages pressed shoulder to shoulder under verandahs, and hotels as substantial as any to be found in Auckland.
 The train slowed and chuffed through the town square with its rotunda, fountain and flower gardens. So it was true: the railway line really did run through the centre of the town. Carriage windows were shut against clouds of soot as the train slowed with a screech and rattle.
 Passengers began to shift in their seats as the train neared the station. Men straightened their ties and donned their hats. Young women took out their compacts to see whether their makeup needed repairing, and primped their hair. As the train groaned to a stop, people pulled bags and suitcases down from overhead luggage racks.
 ‘Are we here?’ asked Edie.
 ‘This is it,’ said Ruby. ‘Palmerston North.’
 ‘I’m glad.’ Edie cupped her hand to whisper. ‘I need to wee.’
 Ruby groaned. ‘Why didn’t you go when I