the Queen at Buckingham Palace once,' says Nan. 'Would you like to see it?'
A letter from the Queen? The real Queen, herself? Nan's never mentioned this before.
I smooth out the tea towel and leave Her Majesty to dry on the front of the old gas cooker. I follow Nan up the narrow hallway to her bedroom. I don't often go in Nan's bedroom. The curtains are pulled shut and I can't see much, but I can smell mothballs and violet talcum powder. It's a fragrance I love, but it makes me sad 'cos it also reminds me that Pop's not here. If he was still with us I would also be able to smell the eucalyptus and Friar's Balsam that he used in the vaporiser on his bedside table.
MUSM
'Now, you're a lovely tall girl Eleanor, just like your sister Matilda,' says Nan. 'So be a dear and get the box down from the top of that shelf.'
I stand on a little stool with spindly legs and pull down the box covered in floral paper.
'Let's bring it out to the dining table where we can have a good dig around in it,' declares Nan. 'Lots of treasures in there – if the moths haven't got to them.'
Nan shifts a Wedgwood serving plate sitting on a little lace doily and places the box on the dining room table. She lifts the lid and I can see it's crammed full of bundles of yellowing envelopes tied with red ribbons. And there are roses! The smell of roses is really strong.
'Oh, isn't that wonderful!' exclaims Nan. 'I can't believe I can still smell those divine red roses. That was the last bunch of flowers your pop gave me before he passed away. I dried them with a few tablespoons of orris root and popped them in here.'
Nan lifts a dry stem from a silky bag and papery petals crumble and fall. I see her eyes begin to mist with tears and I feel like crying myself. I lay my head on Nan's shoulder and she kisses my forehead. We are both remembering darling Poppy.
'Now,' Nan sniffs and straightens her back, 'where did I put that letter? It's got the royal seal on the back of the envelope.'
But I don't want see that yet. I'm dying to see what's in these bundles of letters tied with ribbons.
'Oh, those?' smiles Nan. 'They're love letters. From before your pop and I were married. He was away three years working on the Snowy Mountains Scheme as a labourer and wrote to me every week, without fail.'
I've heard of the Snowy Mountains Scheme in Australian history class at school. It was where they diverted the melted snow from the rivers into massive dams and then through turbines to make hydro-electricity.
'Your pop's family sailed out to Australia from Manchester in England in 1955 and settled in Britannia. I suppose the name made them feel at home,' Nan chuckles. 'When your grandfather turned eighteen a year later, he got a job in the Snowy Mountains. We were already engaged to be married and all his savings went into putting a deposit on this cottage. It was an old place, even back then, but we did love it so. The same rose bush is still climbing around the front door to this day.'
Nan and Pop were engaged when they were teenagers. Imagine if Tilly came home wearing an engagement ring. Mum and Dad would freak!
I ask Nan if I can read one of Pop's letters and she picks out one bundle and carefully unties the ribbon. She opens an envelope and hands me the stiff, coarse sheet of paper inside. The words are written very neatly in lead pencil.
My dearest Bet Bet,
I hope this letter finds you well, my darling girl!
This morning I went fishing along one of the beautiful ferny mountain creeks. What a sight to see the rainbow trout jumping right out of the water, chasing swarms of dragonflies in the sun!
It is a strange thing to think that all around will be under the depths of the mighty Eucumbene Dam some time soon.
The old town of Adaminaby will be drowned, so they're moving more than a hundred buildings to a site five miles away to the north-east. They are even dismantling an old stone church to re-build it in the new town. I met a man who had not long been
A letter from the Queen? The real Queen, herself? Nan's never mentioned this before.
I smooth out the tea towel and leave Her Majesty to dry on the front of the old gas cooker. I follow Nan up the narrow hallway to her bedroom. I don't often go in Nan's bedroom. The curtains are pulled shut and I can't see much, but I can smell mothballs and violet talcum powder. It's a fragrance I love, but it makes me sad 'cos it also reminds me that Pop's not here. If he was still with us I would also be able to smell the eucalyptus and Friar's Balsam that he used in the vaporiser on his bedside table.
MUSM
'Now, you're a lovely tall girl Eleanor, just like your sister Matilda,' says Nan. 'So be a dear and get the box down from the top of that shelf.'
I stand on a little stool with spindly legs and pull down the box covered in floral paper.
'Let's bring it out to the dining table where we can have a good dig around in it,' declares Nan. 'Lots of treasures in there – if the moths haven't got to them.'
Nan shifts a Wedgwood serving plate sitting on a little lace doily and places the box on the dining room table. She lifts the lid and I can see it's crammed full of bundles of yellowing envelopes tied with red ribbons. And there are roses! The smell of roses is really strong.
'Oh, isn't that wonderful!' exclaims Nan. 'I can't believe I can still smell those divine red roses. That was the last bunch of flowers your pop gave me before he passed away. I dried them with a few tablespoons of orris root and popped them in here.'
Nan lifts a dry stem from a silky bag and papery petals crumble and fall. I see her eyes begin to mist with tears and I feel like crying myself. I lay my head on Nan's shoulder and she kisses my forehead. We are both remembering darling Poppy.
'Now,' Nan sniffs and straightens her back, 'where did I put that letter? It's got the royal seal on the back of the envelope.'
But I don't want see that yet. I'm dying to see what's in these bundles of letters tied with ribbons.
'Oh, those?' smiles Nan. 'They're love letters. From before your pop and I were married. He was away three years working on the Snowy Mountains Scheme as a labourer and wrote to me every week, without fail.'
I've heard of the Snowy Mountains Scheme in Australian history class at school. It was where they diverted the melted snow from the rivers into massive dams and then through turbines to make hydro-electricity.
'Your pop's family sailed out to Australia from Manchester in England in 1955 and settled in Britannia. I suppose the name made them feel at home,' Nan chuckles. 'When your grandfather turned eighteen a year later, he got a job in the Snowy Mountains. We were already engaged to be married and all his savings went into putting a deposit on this cottage. It was an old place, even back then, but we did love it so. The same rose bush is still climbing around the front door to this day.'
Nan and Pop were engaged when they were teenagers. Imagine if Tilly came home wearing an engagement ring. Mum and Dad would freak!
I ask Nan if I can read one of Pop's letters and she picks out one bundle and carefully unties the ribbon. She opens an envelope and hands me the stiff, coarse sheet of paper inside. The words are written very neatly in lead pencil.
My dearest Bet Bet,
I hope this letter finds you well, my darling girl!
This morning I went fishing along one of the beautiful ferny mountain creeks. What a sight to see the rainbow trout jumping right out of the water, chasing swarms of dragonflies in the sun!
It is a strange thing to think that all around will be under the depths of the mighty Eucumbene Dam some time soon.
The old town of Adaminaby will be drowned, so they're moving more than a hundred buildings to a site five miles away to the north-east. They are even dismantling an old stone church to re-build it in the new town. I met a man who had not long been
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