Paper Sparrow

Magda Palmer

Description

A lone female prevails against all odds after a dark journey of self-discovery.
Paper Sparrow is a historical novel inspired by real-life events, Australia 1943 to 1955. PEGGY is born to circumstances that deny her opportunities afforded to others. Before her thirteenth birthday, she has no choice but to work as a Nursing Aide in a home for the elderly. Aged fourteen, Peggy is drugged and raped. She travels from Sydney to Melbourne to see out her pregnancy without family or financial support. Her dark journey reveals a massive baby farming industry, untold sufferings, and life-long consequences to thousands of post-WWII victims-single women. Their babies are officially recognised today as The Stolen White Generation. Peggy's core conflict comes from her necessary involvement with a network of welfare officers and medical teams, all fuelled by monetary greed. Torment, near-slavery, and degradation are encouraged through social bigotry.
Peggy meets PETER, a man of the cloth, BINEHAM, a master of Chinese psychology and LILY, a welfare officer fighting for social justice. They foster her potential and lighten her journey. Peggy's baby is kidnapped from the birthing table and sold to a couple who have a ruthless plan to forbid Peggy to approach her child legally. This action leads Peggy to incite reform through civil society to end social prejudice against single mothers and their children.
Fortune brings work in the fashion industry, and Peggy wins a scholarship which will lead to a career in live theatre. Peggy has a heart-rending meeting with her child aged one year, but the cherished experience loses its worth when he spits at her feet under instruction from his adoptive parents. This action and a sordid society party meant to launch Peggy in the Miss Australia quest destroy her will to live. Yet, she miraculously survives a deep-sea baptism and finds the strength and means to promote benevolence, communication, and beauty.

Sujets

• Historical
• Jenolan Caves
• Forgiveness
• Baby farming
• Australia
• Courage
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: iUniverse
• Date de parution: 22 août 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781663243089
• Langue: English

Extrait

PAPER SPARROW
 
 
 
 
 
Magda Palmer
 
 
 

 
 
PAPER SPARROW
 
 
Copyright © 2022 Magda Palmer.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
Certain characters in this work are historical figures, and certain events portrayed did take place. However, this is a work of fiction. All of the other characters, names, and events as well as all places, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
 
 
 
iUniverse
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.iuniverse.com
844-349-9409
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
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.
 
ISBN: 978-1-6632-4309-6 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6632-4310-2 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6632-4308-9 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022914035
 
 
 
iUniverse rev. date: 08/09/2022
CONTENTS
Part 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Part 2
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
Part 3
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
PART 1
CHAPTER 1
The year is 1943, and the location is Woolooware, a suburb in Southern Sydney, New South Wales, Australia.

Marj pushed a twin baby stroller along the dirt road, now and then yanking the oversized iron wheels out of holes left by dislodged stones from occasional traffic. Powdered dust disturbed by the preceding baker’s horse and cart settled on her hands. It irritated her eyes and attempted to invade her throat, but Marj deprived the cloying grit of that victory because her mouth was shut tight, and her jaw clenched. She didn’t feel like the pretty blonde with baby blues who had queened church dances before she married Albert.
Albert was away on training duty with the Australian army because the government, the military, and the people were deeply alarmed when Singapore had fallen to the Japanese, who also bombed Darwin. In addition, German and Japanese warships and submarines were still entering Australian waters.
Albert had rented a house in the bush twenty-four kilometres south of Sydney to keep Marj and his children safe. Not much in the way of neighbours, but there was a lavender farm with plum trees, the Murphy’s who had a pet cockatoo, and a widow who grew potatoes and collected butterflies. They were all within shouting distance.
Marj had walked for an hour to the nearest grocery shop and then laboured for an hour and a half to return with the week’s heavy load, which she’d crammed into the baby cart with her youngest children, Sylvia and Bertie. Albert was a good husband and did his best, but Marj felt short-changed because she’d been brought up to expect a comfortable life as the only daughter of doting parents.
The babies were gurgling a language understood only by them. They sounded happy, so Marj didn’t investigate, which was just as well because if she had discovered the cause of the frivolity, she couldn’t have done much anyway. Sylvia and Bertie had mixed melted butter with poo from one of their nappies and were smearing the repulsive muck in each other’s hair and on their clothes. The related heaven-high stench soon made the oppressive heat of the day intolerable. It was all Marj needed to amplify self-pity and her unsolicited dislike of Peggy, their eldest child. She reminded Marj of a sparrow, constantly chirping and naturally friendly. Up close, sparrows are afraid of humans. Nobody wants sparrows anyway.
Peggy had skipped ahead; she’d caught up with the baker who had stopped to deliver bread to the lavender farm.
‘Hello, Mr Baker, Mummy’s going to vote because she’s twenty-one.’
‘G’ day Peggy, what’s that you say?’
Peggy chanted words to her melody, repeating the lyrics while skipping around the stationary horse-drawn cart.
‘Mummy’s going to vote because she’s twenty-one.’
‘Are you sure your Mummy’s twenty-one, Peggy?’
‘Yes, Mr Baker, Mummy’s going to vote because she’s twenty-one.’
Marj had caught up. The baker removed his hat in salutation.
‘How are the young ‘uns? Nice day Mrs Piper, no secrets with kids around, ay? Peggy at school yet?’
Marj smiled sweetly.
‘Next year, Ronnie, next year.’
‘Peggy’s as pretty as her mum. Hope you don’t mind me saying.’
Marj acknowledged the words from Ronnie with a nod. He meant to pay a compliment, but it wasn’t.
The wafting aroma of crusty loaves stacked on wooden shelves in the baker’s roofed cart almost eclipsed the stink from the pram.
‘Crikey, Mrs Piper, the kids’ carriage is a bit full.’
Marj thought the little man might have meant foul instead of full. She suspected he wasn’t referring to her groceries and that he was holding back laughter.
‘How about I leave your loaf in the shade on your veranda? Here’s something for you to sweeten your day.’
Ronnie offered Marj a paper bag concealing something fresh to nibble, then took off.
The iced finger bun was sweet, and she didn’t have to share it. Peggy had skipped ahead again and was singing, well, sort of singing.
Marj pondered another time on this same road when she and Albert had been strolling behind a dancing Peggy. The child had jumped on a stick that had sprung to life as a menacing brown snake, hissing as it spiralled up her leg. Peggy stood stationary. She bent down and lightly touched the reptile’s face with the leaves she was carrying. Then, astonishingly, it uncoiled and slithered into the thick scrub. Peggy then continued bopping along unperturbed. Marj noted Alfred’s admiration for the child’s natural communication with nature.
They reached the entrance to Murphy’s residence. Their cockatoo perched on the gatepost. Peggy skipped faster because she knew the bird would try to make her talk to him. Too late, the bird was shaking with excitement.
‘Ello say ello to Cocky. Go on; please say ello to Cocky, poor Cocky, say ello to Cocky.’
Peggy stopped and went to the bird.
‘Oh, alright. If you don’t swear. Hello Cocky.’
The cockatoo jumped up and down on the post, flapped its wings madly, and then screeched.
‘You bloody drongo, I hate you, you ugly cow.’
Peggy, upset by the exchange, ran away. Marj smiled.
The cocky quietened down, slowly working up a jig while pleading.
‘Poor Cocky, please say ‘ello to Cocky, poor Cocky, please say ello to Cocky.’
Peggy gingerly came back.
‘If you promise not to never say nasty things to me.’
The cocky lowered his head, pretending shame, imploring.
‘Say ello to old Cocky.’
Peggy gave in, ‘OK, Hello, Cocky.’
Then it started all over again. The cockatoo ranted, raved, and cursed. Peggy ran away, then came back and tip-toed beside the stroller, touching it with one hand. Marj ignored her.
They reached the rented house, and Peggy, now over the Cockatoo episode, ran forward and opened the wooden gate. She helped guide the stroller along the path up the ramp Albert had built over the steps leading to the veranda. Just about every house in Australia had a covered porch. Their presence fancied the entrance’s appearance and encouraged draughts of fresh air to circulate throughout the hot, tin-roofed homes. Verandas also served as a great place to relax and chat with passing neighbours. Marj slumped into the nearest chair. While she recovered, Peggy half carried, half walked two-year-old Sylvia to the outside tub, undressed her, and gently hosed her clean. She returned to see Marj had wiped the putrid mess from Bertie and wrapped him in a clean towel.
‘Mummy, can I have a banana?’
‘Get me a cup of tea and a biscuit. Then clean and save what groceries you can. Put them away, remembering the meat must go in the icebox under the house. And close the icebox door. Next, rinse the dirty baby clothes and leave them soaking in the tub.’
Peggy carried out the tasks and then asked.
‘Can I have a banana, Mummy?’
‘No. Go to the outhouse and shut the door behind you.’
Peggy knew this to be the apex penalty if she displeased Marj. Conditioned to never knowing what she had done wrong and accepting punishment without question, she trudged back down the ramp along a rough path to a small bush structure with a corrugated iron roof. Near the entrance, she moved swiftly, pressing herself against the far wall to prove she was inside because Marj had followed her. Peggy shut her eyes tight in fear.
The walls shook as the door banged closed, and Peggy heard the big log used to secure it slam into hooks on the toilet’s outside walls. She’d only known this door to be locked when they spent a weekend away with Grandma Maggie and Papa Pilgrim, Marj’s mother and father.
Marj’s footsteps faded into the distance. Peggy spread an old newspaper, eventually to be torn into squares