Ida's Line

Barbara Townsend

Description

Ida's Line tells the story of Ida Joubert, a young woman, coming of age during a period of growing racial hatred in Oudtshoorn, South Africa in the 1930's and 1940's. Ida openly rejects these racist views and challenges the prevailing patriarchal attitudes. This brings her into conflict with her white middle-class family. Matters come to a head when she falls in love with Rueben May, a mixed race teacher who wants to marry her.

Sujets

• Romance historique
• Fiction
• Romance
• Historical

Informations

• Publié par: Digital On Demand
• Date de parution: 21 juin 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9780639708966
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Ida’s Line




BY THE SAME AUTHOR
Non fiction
Botrivier: The story of a village, 2010
For children
Changing Lives, 2009 Journey from Timbuktu, 2005

About the Author
Barbara Townsend has had a lifelong love of writing. She is a published poet and the author of several children’s stories written for leading South African educational publishers. She has taught creative writing to local children and students from Gabon, and has facilitated story writing with rural people in Niewoudtville. Barbara’s other love is little -known local history, and in 2010, her book Botrivier: The story of a village was published.
Barbara lives in the beautiful village of Botrivier with her husband, Mark, and two dogs. Ida’s Line, for which she was awarded funding by the National Arts Council, is her first novel.


IDA’S LINE
BARBARA TOWNSEND
TEAPOT PUBLISHING




Author’s Note
The racial classification terms – coloured, European and native – used in the racially divided society of the period this novel covers, do not reflect the views of this author. In the same way, the highly offensive racial pejoratives and insults from the mouths of certain characters in the story reflect the opinions and attitudes of some, but certainly not all, people who lived at that time. They do not reflect the attitude of the author.
Barbara Townsend
Botrivier, 2020

First published in 2020 by Teapot Publishing,
P O Box 705, Botrivier, 7185
www.teapotpublishing.co.za
[e-mail]
ISBN 978 0 620 89537 8 (print)
ISBN 978 0 620 89538 5 (e book)
Second (International) edition June 2022
978 0 6397 0895 9 (print)
978 0 6397 0896 6 (e book)
© 2020 Barbara W. Townsend All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This book is a work of fiction.
Cover illustration: Ruth Sack
Design: Charles Abbott [e-mail]
Part funding for this novel by National Arts Council.


Dedication
In loving memory of Anne Schuster, inspired mentor and guide who believed in this story
For my beloved family, warm heart of my life


Chapter 1
December 1929
“Iiiiida! Ida where are you? You must come and get ready.”
Ida lay dead still on the long branch of the oak tree that grew near the wall separating their garden from the Stein’s. From her hiding place she watched her mother stop with her hand in the small of her back and walk slowly from the front of the house along the verandah on the side. Then she disappeared through the outside door of the bedroom Ida shared with her sister Flora who was three years older than her.
The wind stirred the leaves and Ida moved deeper into the shadow. If she stayed there long enough nobody would find her until it was too late to go to her Oom Danie’s farm for the weekend. Even though his wife Tannie Magda with her strange smell and terrible black dress was dead now she didn’t want to go. Because now it was Oom Danie who said it was not safe, not safe at all for Ida and her sisters to leave the farmhouse. Only with her brother Lloyd or their boy cousins and the dogs. When Ida asked why, Ma said it was because of something that happened to Tannie Magda long ago in an English camp and Pa said Ida must not start questioning the rules about what girls could do on the farm because it was Oom Danie’s birthday and he was still sad.
Two whole days and on Sundays everyone spoke quietly and read only the Bible and slept while the servants clattered in the scullery. Her family hadn’t been there since Aunt Magda’s funeral. But the time before that Ma had taken out her embroidery after Sunday lunch and there were raised voices about needles in God’s eye and Ma said this is the end and asked Pa if they could go home. He had raised his eyebrow but they left anyhow.
The dog next door at the Stein’s house began barking excitedly and Ida peered down through the leaves. Sometimes he did that when he saw her in the tree or on the wall but today it was because Joe, who lived there, was teaching him to fetch the stick he threw. Pa said it was important to teach dogs. He believed in teaching, but this run, fetch, get patted, run, fetch was very boring to watch. Not like the time when she had been spying on the neighbours and she had seen Mrs Stein, alone in the garden, take off the scarf she always wore over her head and sit in the sun brushing her hair. It hung below her waist when it was loose and she had rushed inside to tell Ma. Later, when she asked why Mrs Stein’s hair was always covered when they saw her at the fence, Ma said it was because she was a Jewish woman. The Steins also lit candles on Friday nights and went to the synagogue in Queen Street on Saturdays with some other families Pa knew, like Uncle Bennie who had the shop where Pa bought his shoes, and Mr Kaplan the watchmaker.
Her own family went to the Methodist church and Ma didn’t cover her hair. It was beautiful. Shining and mostly dark brown and she wore it in a bun at the back of her neck. But in the mornings when first she got out of bed in her long white nightdress and went through to the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove, her hair was loose. And these days in the afternoons as well when she had been resting. That was a new thing. Pa said it was because she was expecting a baby and they must be considerate. He used that word a lot these days. Not always think of themselves first is what he meant.
“Ida, I’m not calling you again, my girl. Come and change. I must still do your hair.” Ma was leaning on the back of the bench next to the fish pond, looking up through the leaves.
There was a tearing sound as Ida’s dress caught on a small branch and she swung down onto the ground.
“Sorry, Ma.”
Her mother clicked her tongue. “Never mind, I’ll mend it. But be quick now.” She pointed to a place on the low wall between their garden and the Steins. “And don’t forget your shoes. You know what Pa said about you girls climbing on the wall.”
Ida stretched up to reach her shoes knocking one over into the next door garden. She looked around to see where her mother was and then she climbed onto the wall and looked over. The dog was already sniffing at it and Joe was watching her.
“Give me my shoe, please.”
Joe walked over and picked it up. Held it up to her, just out of reach. Up close she saw he had freckles on his cheeks and his eyes were laughing. They were green, not blue like hers. He waved the shoe. “Come and get it.”
Ida jumped down into the sand on the other side, landed hard with one bare foot on a brick, and snatched it from him before he realised what was happening. She didn’t say anything about the awful pain in her foot when she put her weight on it, so he must have seen her wince, because he wasn’t laughing now.
“I’m sorry. Are you all right, Ida?”
“Of course I’m all right,” she said, from the top of the wall. But she was glad he’d said sorry.
— « » —
“You’re filthy, where’ve you been? Didn’t you hear Ma calling you?” Ida limped past her big sister Blanche into her bedroom. Blanche was the oldest girl in the family and always bossy, and Ida was glad she shared a room with Flora. She was already dressed, lying on her bed reading and she looked up as Ida hobbled over to her bed.
“What happened to your foot?”
Ida looked at the underside of her foot. There was a thin trickle of blood where it was grazed and it was already turning blue. “I fell from the wall on the Stein’s side.”
Flora looked up from examining Ida’s foot. “You’d better think of something else when you show Ma. Pa will be furious when he hears.”
“Can you help me?”
Flora nodded and poured some water from the jug into the washstand basin and put it on the floor next to Ida’s bed. “I know where Ma keeps everything in the passage cupboard, but first I must clean that graze.”
Ida sat down and put her foot in the basin. She winced as Flora began sponging the grit from the raw place and tried to pull her foot away. But Flora held it firm.
“It’s either me or Ma unless you want Blanche to do this. I’ll be quick.”
Ida clenched her teeth and said no more. Flora was always fixing up injured birds and recently when her puppy had been mauled by a dog on the farm Pa said he didn’t think the dog would survive but Flora had nursed him back to health. She wanted to be a doctor but that was one of the days Pa shouted about ‘over his dead body’.
At last it was over. Flora dried her foot and flitted out to the passage. She came back with a length of gauze and a small bottle labelled Turlington Drops.
“Does it sting?”
“Not much.” Flora dabbed the dark liquid on the wound and wrapped the bandage around Ida’s foot. “You’ll have to keep your socks and shoes on for a couple of days.”
Flora’s dog pricked up his ears and they heard the front gate click shut.
“That’s probably Pa back from his morning walk. Ma said he’d want to leave after coffee so you’d better get dressed. Ma still has to do your hair.” She gave a low laugh and pointed to the dress Blanche had laid out across Ida’s pillow.“I’m so glad it doesn’t fit me anymore.”
Ida pulled a face and held the dress with too many frills in front of her at the mirror. She dropped it to the floor. “I’ll wear what I’ve got on.”
“You’d better not. Pa will have a fit.”
Behind her in the mirror she saw Flora sit up and smooth her jagged hair. She had cut her hai