that?’
Released in time for…? I nearly choked. ‘You want me to release Mr Dawson from quarantine?’
‘That’s what I said.’ McCreedy was watching me closely now, having apparently come to the point.
‘I can’t do that.’
‘What, even for a few hours? Why on earth not? We both know he’s not infected. No germ would dare. Ha.’ McCreedy put a heavy hand on my shoulder. ‘Mr Philp will win this one, Row, if Mr Dawson doesn’t show, and if that happens it’ll be a blow to the North and to progress, let alone good sense.’
It occurred to me that Dawson and McCreedy had reached some agreement about some railway line. The only railway project I could think of was the proposal by Charters Towers businessmen to build a spur line to link up with Bowen, so they could bypass Townsville.But he was the Townsville Mayor and this couldn’t be what he meant.
‘I can’t cut quarantine short for anyone,’ I said. ‘I’m not even sure it’s Dr Humphry’s decision now.’
‘Well, put it to Humphry, will you? Mr Dawson must front this hearing,’ said McCreedy, ‘or the project’s scuttled. You follow me?’
I said I’d see what was possible.
‘Good, good. You know Mr Dawson and Dr Routh are saying the man has typhoid?’
I nodded.
‘And he’s recovering.’
‘Yes.’
‘If there’s some disagreement about Dr Humphry’s diagnosis, could not the Epidemic Board reconsider the quarantine period? I believe the passengers have another, what, week to serve?’
‘Fifteen days,’ I said.
‘Well, there you are, in those harsh conditions. Away from their families. It may be we are putting them at risk of infection from some other diseases, you follow me? A quarantine station by definition is not a healthy place. You’d have to agree.’
I supposed I had to.
‘Good, good. And what about this other Government doctor they’re sending up. He’s an expert in the damned disease, isn’t he? Maybe he could do something. In the interests of Queensland’s development.’
‘Maybe,’ I said.
‘Don’t know how many Government doctors we need, maybe one for each rat, eh? You know this fellow?’
‘Dr Turner? I’ve met him.’
‘Right. Well, whatever he needs, keep him sweet, but I won’t stand for any meddling, you follow me? Neither will the rest of the town. See if he can get Mr Dawson off the island.’ He slapped my shoulder and leaned forward. ‘If you can do this for me, Row, you won’t be sorry.’
The Mayor looked around at his wife, who was fidgeting with her parasol. ‘“The wrath of the Lord” indeed,’ he said, nodding towards the Reverend Kerr who was mingling with the last of the congregation. Buggies were raising dust along the road.
‘Anyway,’ McCreedy was saying, ‘one case does not an epidemic make. Would you be able to tell, Row, the difference between plague and any number of tropical fevers that touch this city in any given year?’
‘I hope so.’
‘Right. Northern stock are tough and it’s the Chinaman and kanaka who’ll cop it. They’re the ones we need to damn well quarantine.’
Most of the buggies had gone. I saw the back of Reverend Kerr.
‘…Brisbane medico,’ McCreedy went on, ‘an expert in these matters I read about, whatshisname? Lukin or something. Lucas. You follow me?’
The Mayor took his watch out again. ‘Blast.’ He tapped his head, ‘One mind, doctor,’ and crushed my hand.
The stragglers of the congregation were climbing into their carriages and I saw that the Reverend and Mrs Kerr had found an invitation to lunch and were already on their way to German Gardens.
And then I was alone. Behind St Andrew’s, dry scrub and boulders climbed the side of Castle Hill. The only sounds came from crows and insects, the wind in the trees, and the fading rattle of McCreedy’s buggy.
The church door was open. I looked around and stepped out of the shade and over the gravel.
The church was an oven when I poked my head inside. Perhaps
Released in time for…? I nearly choked. ‘You want me to release Mr Dawson from quarantine?’
‘That’s what I said.’ McCreedy was watching me closely now, having apparently come to the point.
‘I can’t do that.’
‘What, even for a few hours? Why on earth not? We both know he’s not infected. No germ would dare. Ha.’ McCreedy put a heavy hand on my shoulder. ‘Mr Philp will win this one, Row, if Mr Dawson doesn’t show, and if that happens it’ll be a blow to the North and to progress, let alone good sense.’
It occurred to me that Dawson and McCreedy had reached some agreement about some railway line. The only railway project I could think of was the proposal by Charters Towers businessmen to build a spur line to link up with Bowen, so they could bypass Townsville.But he was the Townsville Mayor and this couldn’t be what he meant.
‘I can’t cut quarantine short for anyone,’ I said. ‘I’m not even sure it’s Dr Humphry’s decision now.’
‘Well, put it to Humphry, will you? Mr Dawson must front this hearing,’ said McCreedy, ‘or the project’s scuttled. You follow me?’
I said I’d see what was possible.
‘Good, good. You know Mr Dawson and Dr Routh are saying the man has typhoid?’
I nodded.
‘And he’s recovering.’
‘Yes.’
‘If there’s some disagreement about Dr Humphry’s diagnosis, could not the Epidemic Board reconsider the quarantine period? I believe the passengers have another, what, week to serve?’
‘Fifteen days,’ I said.
‘Well, there you are, in those harsh conditions. Away from their families. It may be we are putting them at risk of infection from some other diseases, you follow me? A quarantine station by definition is not a healthy place. You’d have to agree.’
I supposed I had to.
‘Good, good. And what about this other Government doctor they’re sending up. He’s an expert in the damned disease, isn’t he? Maybe he could do something. In the interests of Queensland’s development.’
‘Maybe,’ I said.
‘Don’t know how many Government doctors we need, maybe one for each rat, eh? You know this fellow?’
‘Dr Turner? I’ve met him.’
‘Right. Well, whatever he needs, keep him sweet, but I won’t stand for any meddling, you follow me? Neither will the rest of the town. See if he can get Mr Dawson off the island.’ He slapped my shoulder and leaned forward. ‘If you can do this for me, Row, you won’t be sorry.’
The Mayor looked around at his wife, who was fidgeting with her parasol. ‘“The wrath of the Lord” indeed,’ he said, nodding towards the Reverend Kerr who was mingling with the last of the congregation. Buggies were raising dust along the road.
‘Anyway,’ McCreedy was saying, ‘one case does not an epidemic make. Would you be able to tell, Row, the difference between plague and any number of tropical fevers that touch this city in any given year?’
‘I hope so.’
‘Right. Northern stock are tough and it’s the Chinaman and kanaka who’ll cop it. They’re the ones we need to damn well quarantine.’
Most of the buggies had gone. I saw the back of Reverend Kerr.
‘…Brisbane medico,’ McCreedy went on, ‘an expert in these matters I read about, whatshisname? Lukin or something. Lucas. You follow me?’
The Mayor took his watch out again. ‘Blast.’ He tapped his head, ‘One mind, doctor,’ and crushed my hand.
The stragglers of the congregation were climbing into their carriages and I saw that the Reverend and Mrs Kerr had found an invitation to lunch and were already on their way to German Gardens.
And then I was alone. Behind St Andrew’s, dry scrub and boulders climbed the side of Castle Hill. The only sounds came from crows and insects, the wind in the trees, and the fading rattle of McCreedy’s buggy.
The church door was open. I looked around and stepped out of the shade and over the gravel.
The church was an oven when I poked my head inside. Perhaps
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