Chapter 2: Settling

Henry was invited to Sunday dinner. He had been warned by Alice not to expect much warmth nor hospitality from her reverend father, and he cleverly confined his table-talk to “yes, sir,” “no, sir,” “thank you, sir,” and “no, thank you, sir.” They were served by a European cook-housekeeper, but the clearing-away was done by a young Aboriginal girl. After dinner, Alice managed to spend ten minutes saying good-bye, as they stood on opposite sides of the rather frail garden-gate.

The next morning, Henry encountered the Reverend near the station and thanked him, again, for the dinner. He was invited to visit during the week and explained that his duties took him to Charleville every week and beyond that every few weeks. This information was received with a nod.

But Henry’s schedule was interrupted but a few days later. Though the railroad carried the mail, the standard method of long-distance communication was by telegraph. Henry received a telegram from the offices in Brisbane to report to the Associate Director’s office at 10 a.m. on Tuesday, 20 October 1908. This would entail his catching the Western Mail on Monday and overnighting in Brisbane. In fact, he would have five nights in Brisbane, a city of over 400,000! He telegraphed his acknowledgement and requested rooming instructions. [Eight million telegrams were sent in Australia in 1901. Though the first telephone in Australia was installed in 1879 (in Melbourne), it was only in 1923 that the trunk line was extended to Brisbane.]

For the next few hours he fretted over whether he had done something wrong and was to be dismissed or whether he was to be sent to some remote location – perhaps the new “boat mail” on the wharf at Gladstone! Meeting Alice when she came for the school’s postbag, Henry broached his news and his fears. Alice laughed at him, asking whether he was guilty of absconding with some money. Henry had to admit his innocence, enquiring as to whether he might fetch something from Brisbane for Alice. She looked about, saw no one near, and kissed him on the cheek!

“Surprise me!” and she skipped off.

On Monday, Henry got onto the Western Mail and duly disembarked at the “new” Central Station, which had opened in 1899 with impressive arches of corrugated galvanised iron over the platforms and a portico on Ann Street. A new entrance with its distinctive row of clocks had been constructed in 1901 (in time for Federation). The station had two through and two bay platforms. In 1909, the bay platforms were converted to through platforms. Henry had never seen such a large station. Nor such a large city, Brisbane having a population of just half-a-million – the third-largest city in Australia.

Henry found his way to the inn he’d been told about, discovering as he “registered” that his “room an’ found” was being “covered” by the Queensland Railway. His room had a bed, a chair, a small table, and a washstand. It seemed clean. Henry went out and walked down Ann Street to the offices he would go to in the morning. It took under ten minutes. On his return he noticed a “Traveller’s Bookshop and Stationer.” He went in to look at “New Fiction.”

He was amazed at what was offered. He had read several tales about Sherlock Holmes, by A. Conan Doyle. Here was a volume by Doyle called Sir Nigel, which appeared to take place in the middle ages. Here were several scientific fantasies by Mr. Wells: In the days of the Comet and The War in the Air. And several books by Mr. Bennett. Henry had loved The Grand Babylon Hotel several years ago. What a rich selection! But there was a drawback: cost. Henry had to be frugal. He purchased Sir Nigel for 2 s. and returned to the inn.

He rose early, washed and scraped his cheeks and chin, and had a breakfast of bread, fried chops and coffee, finding he preferred tea. He then made his way to the office, arriving somewhat early.

It seemed a long time, but Henry was shown into an inner office, where he was greeted by two older gentlemen. One was the manager of the western line. The other was introduced as the “personnel director” -- whatever that meant. He was asked to sit and then asked: “You’re 25?”

“I’ll be 26 later this year, sir.”

“Hmmm.” Even upside-down, Henry could see he was perusing the report on the derailment. “And you’ve been working for Queensland for over six years?”

“Yes, sir. First in the north, then in Toowoombra, and further west since then.”

“And your gang constructed the loop at Cunnamulla?”

“Yes, sir. I thought chugging in reverse all the way to Charleville inconvenient and the project was approved.”

“You seem to be able to use that head on your shoulders.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“This report is quite competent.”

“Thank you.”

“What do you think?” -- This was to the personnel director.

“I approve.”

“Well, Henry. The Railway has decided to upgrade Charleville’s status. It will take on some repair and maintenance duties. It will also require a full-time, on-site stationmaster. There will be additional remuneration and a house adjacent to the station. Might you be interested?”

Henry was nearly in shock. “Interested?”

“That’s right. I’d guess about 500 pA plus the house. Eh?” He looked at the director.

“Yes. You’re staying for a few days, Henry?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, why don’t you sleep on it and come back here on Thursday morning with your decision?”

“Yes, sir. I’m quite overwhelmed, sir. And pleased that the Railway would give me so much responsibility.”

“Very good. We’ll see you on Thursday.”

Henry shook their hands and left. He really needed to think.