Harvest of War Read Online Free Page A

did not want the homecoming to be clouded by misunderstanding.
    There had been no way of letting them know that his ship had docked, but they must have been forewarned somehow because the whole family was assembled on the porch as he drew rein, and for a moment he forgot his dilemma and jumped down to embrace first his mother, then his grandmother and sister, and to exchange a fervent handclasp with his father. His elder sister was married now and living in Taupo, but he was assured she would come to visit the next day. In the middle of these greetings Sophie climbed off the buggy and lifted Anton down, and Luke’s grandmother solved the immediate need for introductions by rushing down the porch steps to embrace her with a babble of the Macedonian Serb which was still her primary language. Sophie replied in the same manner and soon she was being welcomed into the house by the rest of the family. No one thought to question why Luke had chosen to bring her to them. She was a fellow refugee from the old country and as such needed no further excuse.
    It was not until after a celebration dinner of tender lamb marinated in fragrant spices, combining the abundance of the new country with the traditions of the old one, that the subject was raised. Sophie was putting Anton to bed. Luke’s mother and sister were washing the dishes, supervised by his grandmother, and Luke and his father were sitting on the porch with cigars and a bottle of home-made peach schnapps.
    Neither of them spoke for a while, until Mr Pavel said, ‘You didn’t have any trouble getting Sophie through immigration, then?’
    Luke put down his glass. He understood that he had been given the cue he needed. ‘No. You see, officially, Sophie is my wife.’
    â€˜Officially?’
    â€˜We were married in Cairo, just before we left. It was the only way the authorities would allow me to bring her on to the ship.’
    â€˜Why didn’t you mention this earlier?’
    â€˜I didn’t want . . .’ Luke took a long pull at his cigar while he sought for words. ‘I didn’t want to spoil things, when I had just come home. I was worried that you, or Ma, would be upset.’
    â€˜It’ll be a shock to your mother, certainly,’ his father agreed. ‘I don’t think it has struck her that you might have had any difficulty bringing Sophie in.’
    â€˜But it did occur to you?’
    â€˜I have been wondering, yes. But I felt the same as you about spoiling the celebrations.’ It was his turn to draw on his cigar and they both smoked in silence for a moment. ‘When were you thinking of letting us into the secret?’
    â€˜Tomorrow morning, I suppose.’
    â€˜Before or after you shared a bedroom?’
    â€˜We haven’t . . . I’ll sleep in my old room.’
    â€˜And then? What are your plans for the future?’
    â€˜I’m not sure.’ Luke hesitated. ‘I suppose Sophie will have to find a job somewhere, eventually. She’s a qualified nurse, so it shouldn’t be a problem.’
    His father grunted in assent. ‘I guess we can’t have too many of them, with all you boys coming back wounded.’ He nodded at Luke. ‘That leg doesn’t seem to give you too much trouble.’
    â€˜No. The medics did a pretty good job on it, but it took a while.’ He thought back to the endless days on the hospital ship, where men around him died every night and their places were taken by new casualties. He was glad that his parents had not seen the pathetic skeleton to which dysentery and exposure had reduced him. The period of recuperation in Egypt and the long voyage home had allowed time to repair most of the damage. He had put on weight and the blistering sunburn had subsided to a healthy tan. He only limped now when he was tired, but the memories of the horror which was Gallipoli were still fresh. He said, ‘I was in a bad way for a while. I probably owe