Another Time

By Vicki Ostenfeld

As the tumultuous tide of the Second World War ebbs, Frank and Amy stand on the precipice of change, their futures hanging in the balance. In the waning days of conflict, this sergeant of the Australian Army and his counterpart, an intrepid Army nurse, are compelled to confront the daunting choices that await them as peace promises to restore normalcy. With the cessation of war comes the inevitability of their separation: Amy yearns to embrace a new beginning in Sydney, with dreams of donning the physician’s coat, while Frank envisions a pastoral life in Tasmania, cultivating world-class Merino wool on his family’s farm. The question that looms over them is one of compromise: can their individual aspirations weave together to form a shared tapestry of life? Their quest for answers is fraught with dilemmas, knowing that each step taken will etch permanent marks on their lives and those of future generations. Spanning half a century, Another Time is a rich tapestry of familial ties, an emotional odyssey through love and loss, fidelity, and betrayal, set against the rapidly shifting moral landscape of the 20th Century, forever altered in the aftermath of conflict.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Feb 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9781035843855

Vicki Ostenfeld

Vicki Ostenfeld was born in Tasmania, Australia, and lived there until she was 40. She now lives in Denmark with her husband whom she met in Cairns, Queensland. After moving to Denmark, Vicki attended Aarhus University where she obtained a Bachelor of English degree and a master’s degree. Vicki taught English at a Danish adult education high school for 17 years before retiring in 2022 when she began writing her first novel.

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About the Author

Vicki Ostenfeld was born in Tasmania, Australia, and lived there until she was 40. She now lives in Denmark with her husband whom she met in Cairns, Queensland. After moving to Denmark, Vicki attended Aarhus University where she obtained a Bachelor of English degree and a master’s degree. Vicki taught English at a Danish adult education high school for 17 years before retiring in 2022 when she began writing her first novel.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Bert Ramshaw who told me I could do anything I wanted and Stiig, who is my rock.

Copyright Information ©

Vicki Ostenfeld 2024

The right of Vicki Ostenfeld to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781035843848 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781035843855 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.co.uk

First Published 2024

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Frank and Amy

1944–45

1

Frank often wondered how everything might have turned out if he had just stayed in camp that day. He was definitely sure that his life would have taken another course and Jeanie’s and Vern’s probably would have too. People affected by a spur of the moment decision; him, Amy, Jeanie, Vern, not to mention the kids. Things might have been different between him and Henry too; that wound had never really healed.

That day, Frank really just wanted to sleep, he’d been working 12 days straight without a day off; long days with 14-hour shifts and only time off to sleep and eat. He had three days leave, and yeah, he really did just want to sleep, but Blue, whose real name was George, was pretty insistent that he came along on his little jaunt and frankly, at the time, the temptation of a swim in cold, clean, fresh water was too much for him, so of course he ended up going along with Blue and Owen.

It would be better than swimming in the sea around Cairns as it wasn’t a good idea, unless you liked risking being stung by the bloody stingers, not to mention the saltwater crocs that could duck up anywhere. And the way Blue described the place made it sound like a paradise, just the name ‘Crystal Cascades’ sounded pretty good.

Blue was a local, from Cairns, born and bred. He knew his way around the place, not to mention all the contacts he had in the area, which was a definite advantage for Blue and his mates. Blue was about 5’9" and skinny as they come; he would have been given the moniker ‘Pull through’ if he hadn’t already been nicknamed ‘Blue’.

He had spent so much time in the Cairns sun that his freckles had pretty much joined up and it was impossible to tell if his hair was naturally that sandy red colour (hence the name ‘Blue’) or whether it had been bleached that way by the sun. Anyway, getting back to that day, Blue had managed to get permission to borrow a Willys Jeep for the rest of the day and reckoned that a trip up to Crystal Cascades was just the thing on another stinking hot day in FNQ.

It was always hot in Cairns, at least 85 degrees by 8 o’clock in the morning, every morning, during the wet season. Got up to 90 degrees most days and not much cooler overnight. Coming from Tasmania, Frank often wondered how anyone could and why anyone would want to live in such a place, although to be fair, it did get down to about 70 degrees in the dry season, but that was still a bit too warm for Frank’s taste. It was almost the end of the dry season, and the weather was starting to get warmer and it was getting muggier every day, so a swim would be welcome.

So, anyway, Blue, Owen and Frank ended up making the 13-mile drive up to Crystal Cascades via Freshwater. They parked the jeep and walked the last few hundred yards through the tropical rainforest until they came upon a swimming hole that looked inviting. Blue said there were more swimming holes further up, but Owen and Frank were more than ready to jump in the first available pool of cold, fresh water that they found.

Besides, it was all uphill on a narrow track hemmed in on both sides by stinging trees, which Blue liked to call ‘Suicide Bush’ or ‘Wait-a-While’ and ‘Hairy Mary’. Frank hated both. The stinging trees with their pretty, heart-shaped, hairy leaves would give you a nasty rash, which hurt for months, while ‘Wait-a-While’ had spiky tendrils with double hooks that would rip holes in your flesh and clothes. No, they had made it unscathed to this first swimming hole and that would do Owen and Frank just fine.

They’d been there for about 20 minutes when he first saw Amy. He didn’t know she was called Amy then, but he did by the time they left Crystal Cascades together that day. She was sitting on one of the huge granite boulders that surrounded the swimming hole, shaded by the overhanging rainforest. He hadn’t seen her at first, he’d been blinded by the sun’s reflection off the water, and it was hard to see anything much that was in the shade of the forest.

He’d been swimming underwater and had surfaced about five yards from the edge of the pool where she was sitting with two other women. The three young women were laughing at something but stopped when they saw Frank pop up from under the surface. Frank stared at them and they stared back at him.

Amy was the first to speak. Are you trying to sneak up on us? she asked.

Um, no sorry, I didn’t know that you were there, he replied, and then clumsily added, I didn’t see you because the sun was in my eyes.

The three women burst out laughing and Amy spoke again, Yes, of course, she said, still laughing. Actually, that’s not a very good excuse for trying to sneak up on us. Surely you can think of something better than that.

Frank began to blush, embarrassed at his own ineptitude to come up with a clever line that would impress the women. I’m sorry, he said, I really didn’t know that you were there.

He sounded so sincere that Amy took pity on him. OK, your apology is accepted. Would you like to join us on our rock? There’s room for at least half a dozen more.

So, like any sensible young man who is given an invitation to join three attractive bathing nymphs on a rock in a swimming hole in the shade of the overhanging rainforest, Frank quickly accepted and climbed out of the water onto the boulder. It was then that he really looked at Amy for the first time and it was then that Frank’s fate was sealed. She was wearing a close-fitting black bathing suit that emphasised her curves, which she had plenty of, and all in the right places.

Her bare legs were long and shapely. Her hair was wet, she had obviously just been swimming herself, but he could tell that it was red and wavy and reached to just below her shoulders. Her eyes were a mossy green colour and her white skin was dusted with freckles on her nose and shoulders. Frank was hooked.

I asked you your name, he suddenly heard someone saying. Frank blinked and returned to the moment.

Sorry, he said, What did you say?

I said that I asked you your name. For the third time, the red-haired goddess replied. I’m beginning to think that you are rude. There was a smile in her voice.

Oh, I’m Frank. What’s your name?

I’m Amy, and this is Mary, she said, pointing to the woman sitting next to her, and that’s Dorothy, pointing to the other woman. So, Frank, I’m guessing that you are a military man of some sort? Amy asked.

Uh, yes, I’m army. How did you know?

Amy, Mary and Dorothy laughed.

Because almost everyone in Cairns is military of some sort. At least half the locals left when Singapore fell back in ’42, which I’m sure you know, said Dorothy, although, I’m actually a local myself.

Then you probably know Blue. He’s from Cairns, too, said Frank.

Perhaps if you tell me what his real name is, I might be able to answer that, said Dorothy.

Oh, sorry, his name is George McLeod. Skinny, sandy-haired bloke.

Yes, I know George. We were in the same class at school together. Lost touch with him when I went to Brisbane to finish my nursing training. Is he still here in Cairns? Dorothy asked.

Frank looked around the swimming hole. Yep, he’s over there, see those two acting like three-year-olds. That’s Blue and Owen, my mates, also military men.

Dorothy suddenly stood up and began excitedly waving her arms and yelling out, Blue! at the top of her lungs. Her frantic gesturing attracted a few looks from some of the other swimmers, but Blue and Owen were making too much ruckus to hear her. Undeterred, Dorothy kept waving and yelling until she got Blue’s attention. When Blue saw her, he immediately swam over, climbed up on the rock and grabbed Dorothy in a bear hug.

Well, I guess they do know each other after all, Amy remarked drily with a grin.

Yes, it appears so, said Frank, also grinning.

Dorothy and Blue didn’t hear a thing; they were both too swept up in their reunion.

Dorrie! Is it really you? I thought you were still in Brissie. I went ‘round to your mum and dad’s, but they weren’t there, some other codgers were livin’ there. I was worried I’d never find ya again, gushed Blue.

Mum and Dad moved back in ’42. Bought a house in Manunda, Dad had always wanted to live in Cairns instead of Mossman. Good job, too, seeing as it got bombed up there. We’re living in Mum and Dad’s place, they moved to Brissie for the duration of the war. Oh, Blue, it’s so good to see you.

OK, Blue, you can put the lady down now, said Frank.

Blue and Dorothy let go of each other and looked around at the others.

Dorrie and I are old friends, said Blue.

Yes, we sort of figured that out already, said Amy.

Sorry, it’s just been so long since we saw each other. I guess we both got a bit carried away, said Dorothy.

Well, this looks like a cosy get-together. May I have permission to join the fun? asked Owen, pulling himself up on to the boulder with the others. Too late, I’m here, so you’ll just have to put up with me, he continued, looking around and grinning like the Cheshire cat. Is someone going to make the introductions, or do I have to do it myself? I’m Owen, and as you’ve probably already noticed, I’m the best-looking one of the three of us.

This is Dorrie or Dorothy to some. She’s from Cairns and we’re old friends, said Blue, looking the happiest Frank had ever seen him. Considering that Blue was the eternal optimist; that was saying something.

Pleased to meet you, Owen. I’m Amy and this is Mary and neither of us is from Cairns.

Why would you be from Cairns? asked Owen, somewhat bewildered.

Don’t worry about it, said Amy, Just tell us where you’re from.

We’re both from Tasmania, said Owen, Although I’m from the big city of Hobart and Frank is a country lad from out in the scrub. So where are you two ladies from, if not Cairns?

I’m from Melbourne, said Mary, speaking for the first time, and Amy is from Sydney. We really are from the big city, which is more than you can say about anyone from Hobart.

Hey now, don’t go insulting Hobart. It’s a thriving metropolis, much bigger than Cairns, that’s for sure, replied Owen, and definitely the big city compared to St Marys where Frank comes from.

Frank, who once again found himself staring at Amy, tuned back into the conversation. In an effort to pull the attention away from him being from the bush, he asked Amy what they were doing in Cairns.

We’re all nurses, said Amy.

You mean that you’re all officers? asked Frank.

Well, yes, said Amy. Why? Is there something wrong with that?

Um, no, I mean yes, said Frank. We’re all sergeants. You know, enlisted men. Non-commissioned officers. Sergeants’ mess and all that.

As we’re all out of uniform, I don’t see that it matters, do you? Who thinks it matters, apart from Frank? Amy asked, looking at the others.

Don’t take any notice of Frank. He always follows the rules and worries about what the army will say. He’s a very correct young man who always does the right thing, aren’t you Frank? laughed Blue, who’d probably broken every rule that the army had ever come up with.

OK, sorry I brought it up, said Frank, feeling a bit embarrassed. Looking at Amy, he asked, Who’s for another swim? and dived into the water. Amy followed him closely, to his delight.

When they both resurfaced from their dives, Amy challenged Frank to a race to the other side.

You’re on, said Frank, and the two of them took off. Amy proved to be a strong swimmer, and had no problem keeping up with Frank, despite the fact that Frank had a reputation back home for being a very good swimmer. It was neck and neck all the way and they reached their goal within seconds of each other.

Gee, you’re pretty good, said Frank. Where did you learn to swim like that?

I used to go to training in Sydney. I always loved swimming, won most of my races when I was at school. Had Olympic aspirations at one stage, but wasn’t good enough, didn’t make the grade. And, well, I really gave it up when I started my nursing training, was always too busy working or studying. But I still love to swim. Anyway, you’re not so bad yourself. Where did you learn?

Mostly swimming in the sea. St Marys isn’t far from the coast and there are some good places to swim that aren’t too far away, St Helens, Seymour, Four Mile Creek, Picaninny. It’s a bit cold most of the year, but we’ve got some great beaches, and no stingers or crocs, which is definitely an advantage over Cairns, said Frank. But weren’t you disappointed about swimming? You know, not making it to the Olympics?

No, not really. Well, yes on some level, but no point in worrying about things that you can’t change. I wasn’t good enough and that’s that. Move on and try something new, like nursing in my case. Anyway, you’re not wrong about swimming in Cairns with the crocs and stingers, said Amy. That’s why we come up here whenever we can. Should we go back to the others? They seem to be trying to get our attention.

Frank looked over towards the boulder where the others were sitting. They were waving and making gestures, which seemed to mean that Amy and Frank should come back, although they weren’t very insistent.

OK, but no racing this time, let’s just enjoy the swim, said Frank.

Amy and Frank swam leisurely side by side across the swimming hole; breast stroking in a way that left no doubt that they were both accomplished swimmers. When they reached the boulder, Blue informed them that they were all going to the pictures in Cairns that night. As usual, being Sunday, there was an open-air picture theatre to entertain the troops. No one ever cared much what picture was showing, it was just a good to get away from the war for a while.

Frank and Amy looked at each other, both smiling.

No worries, said Frank.

I’m in, said Amy.

Yeah, well, we’d better think about getting’ back to Cairns if we’re goin’ to the pictures, said Blue. How did you girls get up here?

Amy has a car, answered Dorothy. We’re OK for transport.

Amy looked at Dorothy. I think that you and Blue must have a lot of catching up to do, so why don’t you go back with Blue and Frank can come with me? We can all meet up at our place for a cuppa and some sandwiches before we go to the flicks. And you can show Blue where we live so he doesn’t get lost, joked Amy.

Not necessary, said Blue, I know Cairns like the back of my hand. Just give me the address and I’ll find it.

Dorothy elbowed Blue in the ribs, hard. That’s a marvellous idea, Amy, she said, giving Blue a pointed look, and Blue thinks so, too.

Eh? What? Am I missin’ somethin’ here? stammered Blue.

Oh, for goodness’ sake, Blue. Just do what Amy suggested. Men! You’re a bit slow sometimes, said an exasperated Dorothy.

Good, then we’re agreed, said Amy. You blokes go and collect your towels and stuff and meet us at the carpark in five minutes and watch out for the ‘Wait-a-While’ because we won’t wait a while.

Owen groaned. That is a terrible joke.

I know, laughed Amy. I know.

2

When Frank, Owen and Blue got to the carpark, they found the three women waiting beside a dark blue Chevy convertible.

Where did you steal that from? asked Owen. That’s some car, even for an officer.

Not really, I got a very good deal on it from a family that were leaving Cairns and didn’t want to take it with them. Must have had more money than sense, but I’m not complaining, shrugged Amy. I wanted a car and this one was available at a good price, so I bought it.

Yeah, well, it’s a beauty. Good for you, said Blue. I’m afraid we’re travellin’ in a borrowed Willys Jeep, compliments of the army. But at least it goes and gets us there.

OK, everyone, let’s get moving if we’re going to the moving pictures tonight, said Amy.

You know, I think that’s another terrible joke, said Owen.

Amy laughed. You could be right about that. Mary, you’re in the back seat. Frank, you’re up front with me, if you’re game. I’m a terrible driver but I usually get where I’m going in one piece.

Yep, I’m game. See ya, fellas. Oops, and Dorothy, said Frank, hopping over the door and onto the front passenger’s seat. Mary was already sitting, waiting on the back seat. Amy hopped over the door onto the driver’s seat.

I guess that’s not very lady-like, but what’s the point of having a convertible if you can’t jump over the door when the top is down? May as well buy an ordinary sedan, Amy quipped. Amy put her foot on the clutch, turned the key, put the car into gear and off they went.

It turned out that Amy was a very good driver. Frank was impressed, not many women back home in St Marys could drive a car at all, so he hadn’t expected much from Amy, his mistake. The 13-mile drive back to Cairns took about 30 minutes. On the way, Amy and Frank talked non-stop. Mary sat in the back saying nothing.

If you asked Frank or Amy what they talked about on that drive, neither of them would have a clue. Everything and nothing: They both liked ‘Deep in the Heart of Texas’ by Gene Autry, Frank liked John Wayne films and Amy liked Bing Crosby. Amy loved nursing and wanted to be a doctor after the war. Frank wanted to go back to the family farm and raise the best merinos in Australia. The 30 minutes went quickly and before they knew it, they were pulling into the drive at Amy’s place in Barlow Street, Manunda.

This place belongs to Dorothy’s parents. They bought it just before Singapore fell, but they only lived here for a few months because they moved south to Brisbane after Darwin got bombed. The three of us are renting it. It’s pretty convenient, close to the hospital and much better than living in the nurses’ accommodation provided by the army, said Amy.

The house wasn’t built up on stilts like many of the houses in Cairns, but there were half a dozen steps leading up to a veranda, which ran the whole length of the front of the house. Frank noticed that there were at least half a dozen chairs and two sofas on the veranda. He figured that it was probably a nice place to sit on the warm, balmy evenings that were plentiful in Cairns.

Looks like luxury compared to where we’re camped out on the highway, said Frank. But we’ve been there a while and we’re pretty much made a home of it for ourselves. It’s funny how you get used to living rough, although I’m pretty sure that you’ll never get me camping again after the war, he laughed.

Yep, I can appreciate that. I hate camping at any time. Give me a nice comfortable hotel room, thanks.

Frank, Amy and Mary got out of the car and went into the house. The front door led straight into the lounge room, which, although not huge, was spacious enough. There was a couch along the wall to the right with an armchair at either end. On the opposite wall, to the left, there was a large fern in the corner and beside that, a very modern-looking record player which also had a radio.

On a bureau next to the record player was an impressive collection of records, which Frank hoped to peruse closely at some stage. Next to the bureau with the records was a door to a hallway, which Frank presumed lead to the bedrooms. Directly ahead were double doors, which Amy headed through, Frank following closely behind.

To the right of the doors was a kitchen, and to the left was a dining area, furnished with an oblong table surrounded by six chairs. On the far wall was a china cabinet containing crockery and knick-knacks. Amy pointed at a door directly opposite the doors which led to the lounge room and told Frank that there was a bathroom and toilet out there to the right, if he felt the need.

A few minutes later, Dorothy, Blue and Owen pulled up out front. Dorothy bustled through the door, saying, We’ve got lettuce, tomatoes and some leftover mutton from lunch. How does that sound?

Sounds bloody great. Oops, sorry, ladies, said Blue.

Eh? Sorry for what? asked Dorothy.

For swearin’ in front of you ladies. It just slipped out, sorry.

Don’t worry, Blue, said Amy. We hear much worse than that at the hospital. The occasional ‘bloody’ isn’t going to shock us.

OK, thanks. I’ll try not to do it again, swear, that is, said Blue. Anyway, where did you get lettuce and tomatoes? We hardly ever see anything fresh like that.

We grow them ourselves, well at least Mary does. She likes gardening and seems to have a green thumb. We’ve also got a few chooks, good layers, so we have a good supply of eggs most of the time, Dorothy replied. We only have a little butter left, so we’ll have to scrape it on the sandwiches pretty thinly.

Dorothy and Mary got busy making sandwiches while Amy filled the kettle and started making tea. The conversation centred around rationing and all the things that were hard to get since the war started. Frank told them about how his family on the farm had plenty of most things; they killed a sheep every now and then and had some milking cows and, although the government took most of their milk, they still had enough left for their own needs and could make their own butter.

Frank’s mother, like Mary, liked gardening and also had a green thumb, so food was not a problem for his family back home in St Marys. They also had some chooks, of course. Everyone agreed that living on a farm would have its advantages.

I reckon Frank’s missin’ Mum’s home cookin’, joked Blue. All this goin’ on about the food back home.

No, not really. My mum doesn’t cook much. She doesn’t like it. She likes to bake cakes and biscuits. Wins lots of prizes at the show every year. Gets pretty put out if she doesn’t win at least a few blue ribbons. The cake tins are always full at home, but she gets the wife of one of the farm workers in every night to cook tea. Come to think of it, Mum doesn’t like housework in general, she gets someone in to do the cleaning, too, said Frank.

I agree with your mother, Frank. Cooking and housework are best avoided as much as possible, agreed Amy.

I don’t agree, interspersed Blue. Cookin’ and housework are what women are supposed to do. What are they goin’ to do if they don’t keep the house clean and put a decent meal on the table every night for their husbands?

You’re not serious! exclaimed Amy. "I have no intention of ever being a housewife. I hate cooking and cleaning is a waste of time, it only gets dirty again. If you want a cook and cleaner, get yourself a maid and pay her to do it, like Frank’s mother. Women won’t go back to being just housewives after the war, not after we’ve had the chance to be a part of the workforce. I certainly don’t intend to."

What are you going to do then that’s more important than making a home for your husband and kids? asked Owen.

I’m not intending to get married for a long time, if ever, and I have no interest in having kids, answered Amy. I want to go to medical school and be a doctor.

How do you intend to pay for that? asked Owen.

I’ve been saving since I finished my nursing training and my parents have offered to help me if I don’t have enough saved up.

Yeah, well, I still say a woman’s place is in the home. What do you think, Owen? asked Blue.

Totally agree with you, Blue. Next thing, women’ll be wanting to drink in the public bar, laughed Owen. And that will never happen.

Everyone looked at Amy, who looked like she was about to explode.

Does anyone know what’s showing at the pictures tonight? interrupted Mary, hoping to change the subject. Unless it’s something really good, I might stay home. I’ve got a very early start in the morning; have to be at work at 6.

Well, it will either be a musical or a comedy. Or a musical comedy, quipped Owen. That’s pretty much all they ever show.

No, not true. Don’t forget the Westerns, laughed Dorothy.

OK, I’m staying home, said Mary. I’m really too tired, anyway, I’d probably fall asleep. It’s an early night for me.

Let’s get this mess cleaned up and get going. It’s nearly 6 o’clock and we don’t want to miss the newsreel, said Dorothy, stacking the crockery and taking it over to the sink.

Don’t worry about the washing up, said Mary, I’ll do it. It’s only plates and cups, won’t take more than ten minutes. You lot get going and enjoy yourselves.

Thanks, Mary. We owe you one, said Amy. I’m just going to change my dress, won’t take a minute.

Yes, me too, said Dorothy. Be with you blokes in a few minutes.

OK, we’ll just go out on the front porch and have a smoke while we’re waitin’, said Blue.

The three sergeants hardly had time to finish their cigarettes before both women emerged within five minutes, wearing different dresses from earlier. Dorothy in a sky-blue colour that emphasised the blue of her eyes. Amy wore brown, which set off her red hair, which she had left hanging