Black Water Read Online Free PDF

Derriweather had tried to join up, but had been knocked back by the army doctor.
    ‘I heard he was an inch too short and his knees are funny,’ Farren said. ‘And besides, aren’t teachers supposed to stay behind and do their jobs?’
    Robbie shrugged. ‘Well, they don’t if they’re fair dinkum. You just keep on tryin’ at different places until they do let you join up.’ Robbie pushed his empty bottle into a hedge and they walked on down the hill.
    ‘Afternoon, Mr D’weather!’ Robbie lifted his cap. ‘And top of the day to you, madam!’
    Farren muttered an embarrassed ‘hello’. Isla, in response, smiled and fired off a salute.
    ‘Fah- ron, ’ she said loudly. ‘S oh -jer!’
    Mr Derriweather nodded at the boys, as formal as a bank manager.
    ‘And a good day to you, fellows. It’s pleasing to see you both so well turned-out in the cause of duty. Enjoy the afternoon.’
    It occurred to Farren that he liked Julian Derriweather. He hadnever used a strap or cane as some of Farren’s other teachers had done. And it was pretty plain to see that he was suffering because he could not go to Gallipoli, despite what Robbie said.
    ‘See yer, sir,’ Farren said. ‘Bye, Isla.’ He waved and she waved back.
    ‘So what d’you make of all this war business, ’Roon?’ Robbie surveyed the loose flotilla of moored boats. ‘What’s the bloody story?’
    ‘I hope we win.’ This was the first thought that came into Farren’s head. ‘Those bloody Turks.’
    Robbie nodded, studying the far shore of the estuary as he considered Farren’s answer.
    ‘Yeah, hope you’re right. I mean, I think we will.’ He squinted as if he wasn’t so sure about this. ‘But I must admit I don’t think about winning it all that much. I think about… well, you know, other fuckin’ stuff.’
    Farren understood. And he knew why Robbie had to swear.
    ‘I just hope my brother and your dad get home safe,’ he said. ‘And that we win,’ he added, to get rid of bad luck. ‘Bloody oath, I do.’
    Robbie plucked leaves off a saltbush, holding them pinched as if they were a hand of tiny cards.
    ‘Yeah, me too, ’Roon.’ He dropped the leaves. ‘So, will we go for a quick sail in the boat or what? I doubt I can do any worse than I did last time.’

SEVEN
    Farren took the tiller and Robbie controlled the mainsail, their laughter flashing across the water in the falling dusk.
    ‘Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!’ Robbie sang out. ‘Stick the cork right up yer bum! Look out, Turks! Because here we come!’
    Farren grinned, but he didn’t know what to say. It was like Robbie was almost out-of-control, like a skittish horse about to bolt.
    ‘I’m gunna quit school like you, Farroon.’ Robbie held the white mainsheet rope. ‘Bloody oath I am. Then we’ll sail this tub to the South Pacific and get our hands on a few of those big brown girls with boosies like footballs. You bet it’ll be bloody bonzer beside the bloody bonfire.’
    Farren couldn’t add to Robbie’s story, or work out how Pricey could even think up stuff like he did. He liked the idea, though, and wished it were true.
    ‘Maggie’s got big ones.’ He hardly meant to speak out loud. ‘She’s bloody beautiful.’ He thought of her in the kitchen in one of her various blouses, bosoms shaking as she grated cheese, orstirred one of her fruit cake mixes that were the colour of wet sand.
    ‘Absolutely,’ said Robbie. ‘I’m damn sure I’d like to see them let out for a decent run.’
    Farren laughed but not for long. He’d imagined much the same thing but didn’t feel right talking about it. Maggie was a friend of his.
    ‘This is a nice little boat,’ he said. ‘She nips along pretty good. Rolly Mills built her, didn’t he? Down Portarlington near the slips there.’
    Robbie shrugged. ‘Blowed if I know.’ His gaze roamed briefly over the Jane-Eliza and her varnished woodwork. ‘So Farry, why don’t you show us how to turn this thing around? Without