Mud and Gold

by Shayne Parkinson

  ‘Mmm,’ Lizzie said, scrubbing at a plate. Frank could tell that she was only giving him a small part of her attention.

  ‘I think I’d better write to him,’ he said.

  Lizzie put the plate down with a thump. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘This bloke with the cows—I’m going to write to him, see if I can order some. What’s wrong?’ he asked, seeing Lizzie’s mouth hanging open.

  ‘You really mean it, don’t you?’ she said, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘You’re really going to buy those cows.’

  ‘Lizzie, I’ve been talking about it for weeks. Didn’t you believe me?’

  ‘I thought it was just something to talk about. I didn’t know you really meant it. If you’re going to write a letter you must be serious. You never write to anyone.’

  ‘I’ve never had to before. You’ll have to help me with the letter, see I do it right.’

  ‘How would I know? I’ve never written to anyone either.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter, all we have to do is tell him we want to buy some cows. Three cows and a bull, that’s what I want. That should be enough to set up a bit of a herd—I’d buy a dozen cows if I could, but I wouldn’t have a show of affording that many.’

  Lizzie dried her hands on her apron and sat down beside him, a worried look on her face. ‘Frank, those cows cost a lot, you told me that. Where on earth are you going to get all the money?’

  Frank slipped his hand over hers. ‘That’s the hard part. You’ll have to help me with that, too.’

  ‘Me? I don’t know anything about money.’

  He gave her a rueful grin. ‘More sums, Lizzie. Even harder ones this time.’

  *

  Mr Callaghan looked mildly surprised when Frank marched purposefully into the bank and asked for a private word in his office, but when he heard what Frank had come about he was openly astonished.

  ‘Am I understanding you properly, Frank?’ he said when he had recovered something of his composure. ‘You want to borrow money to buy some cows?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Frank said, hoping he appeared more confident than he felt.

  ‘A hundred and fifty pounds—for four cows?’ Mr Callaghan’s voice cracked for a moment. ‘It seems an awful lot. And… well, we both know you got in a bit of strife with that loan you already have. I wouldn’t like to see that happen again.’

  ‘Neither would I,’ Frank said fervently. ‘This is different.’

  ‘Is it?’ The bank manager looked dubious. ‘You’d better explain it all to me slowly. What’s given you the idea of buying cows?’

  Frank launched into his explanation with enthusiasm. ‘They’re special cows, these ones are. I’ve read everything I can find about them. They produce more cream, you see—the richest milk of any cow there is, Jerseys give.’

  ‘That’s interesting, but is it important?’

  ‘Yes, it is. The factory doesn’t pay by how much milk we produce, not since they started making butter instead of cheese. They pay us for the cream. The cream,’ Frank repeated. ‘The more cream I produce, the more money I make.’

  ‘I begin to see what you’re getting at,’ Mr Callaghan said, a glimmer of interest in his face. ‘But these cows are rather expensive—very expensive, judging by the amount you want to borrow.’

  ‘The really good ones are,’ said Frank. ‘I don’t want to get just any old Jerseys, I want these real pedigree ones. I need a bull as well as some cows, then I’ll be sure to get decent calves out of the cows I’ve already got.’

  ‘A hundred and fifty pounds, Frank. It’s a good deal of money.’

  ‘I know. But I can pay it back, I’m sure I can. Take a look at this.’ Frank reached into his jacket and brought out two carefully rolled sheets of paper covered with Lizzie’s neatest writing. He spread them out on the bank manager’s desk, handling the pages almost reverently as he recalled the labour that had gone into producing them. Mr Callaghan was not to know how many rough copies, full of crossings-out and sums that refused to add up, had gone before this impressive-looking document.

  ‘We worked it all out. Look, here’s the money for the cows up the top. And here’s what I’ll get for the extra cream the first year—it’s not much, because I’ll only have the three Jerseys producing. The second year’s the same—I wouldn’t be able to pay anything back the first two years.’ He glanced at Mr Callaghan, then went on speaking quickly so as not to give the older man time to remonstrate.

  ‘But the year after that the calves from the first three Jerseys—they’ll be in calf when I get them, and I’m sure to get at least one heifer—will be producing, so that’s a little bit more money, see?’ He pointed a few lines down the page. ‘I’ll be able to start paying back a bit on the loan then. And I’ll put the bull in with my cows next year, so I’ll have a bunch of half Jersey calves the second year. That means in four years when that lot are producing milk I’ll be earning a lot more… let’s see, that starts on this other page. And after that it’ll just get better and better as there’s more and more Jersey blood in the herd.’

  Explaining the figures to Mr Callaghan had given Frank a clear picture of Lizzie sitting at the kitchen table painstakingly drawing up the good copy by lamplight, the tip of her tongue poking out between her lips as she concentrated on the task. He smiled at the memory as he sat back in his chair and looked expectantly at Mr Callaghan. ‘What do you think?’ he asked.

  Mr Callaghan’s eyebrows had risen in surprise as Frank had begun his explanation; now he studied Frank’s figures carefully, not speaking for some time. At last he looked up from his desk.

  ‘Did you work all this out by yourself?’

  ‘Lizzie helped me with the sums. And she wrote it out nice and neat, she’s got much tidier writing than me. But us two did it by ourselves,’ Frank said proudly.

  ‘I’m impressed. Very impressed indeed. You’ve obviously thought this all through most carefully. I’m not used to seeing this amount of preparation when someone asks for a loan.’ Mr Callaghan bent his head to scrutinise the figures once again. ‘Hmm, no repayments for three years… it’s a long time, but…’ He looked across the desk at Frank. ‘How old are you, Frank?’

  The unexpectedness of the question took Frank aback. ‘What? I’m… um, I’m twenty-eight. Why?’

  ‘Twenty-eight,’ Mr Callaghan mused. ‘Your whole life before you, eh?’

  ‘I’ve had quite a bit of it already,’ Frank said, not sure just what the bank manager meant but unwilling to have marriage and the fathering of three children ignored.

  ‘I think perhaps the best is yet to come,’ Mr Callaghan said with a smile. ‘Frank Kelly, if this country is ever going to drag itself out of the slump we’ve been in for so long, it’s going to be young men with a bit of gumption like you who’ll do it.’

  ‘Does that mean…’ Frank said, hardly allowing himself to believe it.

  ‘Yes, Frank. The money’s yours.’

  *

  ‘I don’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed,’ Lizzie said when Frank told her the news. ‘I sort of hoped Mr Callaghan would say no—but I wanted him to say yes, too.’

  ‘Be pleased,’ Frank urged her. ‘This is really going to work out for us.’

  ‘But all that money, Frank. Aren’t you worried about it?’

  ‘It scares the pants off me,’ Frank admitted. ‘But it’s worth doing, I’m sure it is. I mean, Mr Callaghan wouldn’t lend me the money if he didn’t think it was a good idea.’

  ‘He doesn’t know anything about cows, though. What say… oh, I don’t know, what say the cows don’t thrive or something? It’d be awful to see all that money down the drain.’

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ Frank said with a shudder. ‘I thought I might have a word with your pa before I arrange ordering these cows, sort of run the idea past him and see what he has to say.’

  ‘Hmm. I don’t think Pa will think much of it. You know what he’s like, always so sure he’s right about
everything. He’ll go on at you about it.’

  ‘I know, but if I didn’t tell him he’d make a heck of a fuss when he found out, eh? It’s better to let him know now. Anyway, he might have some good advice.’

  ‘What’ll you do if he says you shouldn’t buy them?’

  Frank paused to consider. Arguing with his father-in-law was not a prospect he relished, but his ideas for improving the farm were more important than the risk of offending Arthur. ‘If he’s got really good reasons why I shouldn’t buy the cows, maybe I won’t buy them. Otherwise… well, I’ll listen to him, then I’ll go ahead and do what I want.’

  *

  ‘You’re going to do what?’ Arthur exploded. ‘Pay a fortune for a few funny-looking cows? Frank, I’ve stuck up for you over the years when people have said you’re a bit dopey, but right now I’m wondering. Have you lost your senses, boy?’

  Well, they had not got off to much of a start, Frank thought. He and Arthur had been having a pleasant enough stroll around Frank’s paddocks with Maudie and Joey trotting at their heels, Arthur proffering advice on improving the pasture as they walked, until Frank had plucked up courage to raise the subject. ‘I don’t think so. I just want—’

  ‘Now, I don’t mind telling you that you weren’t much of a farmer till a couple of years ago, but you’ve got a lot better. This place of yours isn’t too bad at all since you woke your ideas up. As a matter of fact you’ve gone a bit silly about it sometimes, out working after dark and all that, but I’ve said nothing—I’m not one to interfere, you know that. But this nonsense you’re on about now… Do you need more cows? Is that the trouble? Frank, I’ll give you some cows if you need them, you’ve only got to ask. You don’t want to go buying scrawny cows from someone you’ve never met. They probably wouldn’t last the season, anyway.’

  ‘Thanks a lot, Pa, but I don’t want more cows—I’ve got as many as I can milk, anyway. I want better ones.’

  ‘What’s wrong with my cows? I offer you some of my cows and you tell me they’re not good enough for you!’

  ‘I’m really grateful, honestly I am, and your cows are good, much better than mine. But Jerseys are better. They give more cream.’

  ‘They’d have to give a hell of a lot more cream to pay for themselves.’

  ‘Ooh, Grandpa,’ Maudie said, looking wide-eyed at Arthur. ‘You said a bad word. You said hell,’ she said with relish.

  ‘Shh, Maudie, don’t give cheek,’ Frank admonished, but Arthur patted his little granddaughter on the head.

  ‘She’s all right. She’s got more sense than some people around here,’ he said, giving Frank a stern look.

  ‘They do give a lot more cream. Me and Lizzie worked it out, and after a few years I’ll be getting—’

  ‘Lizzie?’ Arthur looked suspicious. ‘Is this Lizzie’s idea?’

  ‘No, it’s mine—Lizzie thinks it’s a bit mad,’ Frank admitted. ‘But it’s Lizzie I really want to do it for, Pa. It’s her I want the money for.’

  ‘She’s not sick again, is she?’ Arthur asked. ‘If it’s money you need, Frank, don’t be scared to ask. If you and Lizzie are in trouble I expect you to come to me for help, not go borrowing money for some hare-brained scheme.’

  ‘No, Lizzie’s not sick. But she looks so tired sometimes. She works so hard all the time, I’d like to make things easier for her. I want to get her nice things, too.’ Frank had hoped Arthur might understand, but he saw only a growing exasperation in his father-in-law’s face.

  ‘She’s been trying it on, has she?’ Arthur shook his head. ‘Frank, I thought you knew how to handle Lizzie. You’ve made a pretty good job of keeping her in line, I’ll give you that. I didn’t think you were up to it at first, but you sorted her out before she got out of hand.’

  ‘Lizzie’s all right—no, she’s great. I don’t know what I ever did without her.’

  ‘Oh, she’s a good wife, I won’t dispute that. Her ma brought her up properly, she knows how to do her work. But remember what I told you, Frank—she likes her own way. You settled her down back when you first got married, but it sounds to me like it’s time you did it again if she’s trying to plague you into buying her a lot of fancy nonsense. A belt across the backside would do that girl no harm at all.’ Maudie gave a squeal of alarm, but the men took no notice. ‘You mustn’t put up with nagging. You can’t let your wife tell you what to do.’

  ‘She doesn’t really… not about the cows, anyway. It’s my idea. Lizzie never asks for nice things. She deserves them, though.’

  ‘You’re talking a load of rubbish, Frank. I’m thinking of my daughter, you know. She’s the one who’ll suffer when the mortgage men turn the lot of you off the place. Of course I’d take you all in, but we none of us want that. See a bit of sense, boy. Forget about those fancy cows, and next spring I’ll give you a few decent calves if you still think you want more cows. All right? That’s the end of it, then.’

  Frank was silent for a few moments, choosing his words with care. ‘Thanks a lot for the advice, Pa. I really appreciate it. I’ll have a think about it.’

  ‘There’s nothing to think about, I’ve done the thinking for you. I’m telling you, boy, forget about it.’ Arthur’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you listening to me?’

  ‘I think… I think buying those cows is the right thing to do,’ Frank said. ‘I’ve thought about it a lot, and it seems right to me.’

  ‘What the hell did you ask my advice for, then? Wasting my time getting me to come around here, then you tell me you’ve already made up your mind?’

  ‘I didn’t—’ Frank began.

  ‘Why don’t you just call me an old fool to my face?’

  ‘I don’t—’

  ‘Right, I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll get out of your way now.’ Arthur turned on his heel and made for the horse paddock, where he had left his horse grazing.

  ‘Pa, don’t go off in a huff,’ Frank called after him. ‘I only meant—’

  Arthur turned to face him. ‘You mark my words, Frank, you’ll regret it if you go getting into debt over this stupid idea of yours. And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.’ He strode away at a brisk pace.

  ‘He didn’t kiss me bye-bye,’ Maudie said. ‘Grandpa’s in a bad mood, Papa.’

  ‘He sure is, Maudie. Don’t worry, he’s not in a bad mood with you.’

  Maudie was unusually silent when Frank led the two children into the kitchen where Lizzie was busy peeling potatoes. Her gaze flicked from one parent to the other as Frank and Lizzie spoke.

  ‘How did he take it?’ Lizzie asked.

  ‘Not too well. He thinks I’m being stupid.’

  ‘No wonder—I think you’re pretty stupid about those cows myself, half the time.’

  ‘Don’t be cheeky, Mama,’ Maudie piped up.

  ‘Cheeky yourself!’ Lizzie said indignantly. ‘Don’t you go butting in, Miss.’

  Maudie looked up at Frank with a serious expression. ‘Are you going to give Mama a belt, Papa?’

  ‘No, Maudie. Keep quiet, love.’

  ‘What did you say, Maudie?’ Lizzie looked incredulous.

  ‘Grandpa said Papa should give you a belt on the backside,’ Maudie recited self-righteously.

  ‘Did he, Frank?’

  ‘He only said it because he was fed up with me. Stop looking so keen, Maudie, I’m not going to.’

  ‘Oh.’ Maudie looked disappointed.

  ‘But I’ll give you one if you don’t behave yourself.’ Lizzie inspected Maudie more closely. ‘How did you get your face so mucky—Joey, yours is even worse.’

  ‘Grandpa gave us lollies,’ Maudie said, beaming at the memory.

  ‘Trust him! Go and wash your face—take Joey, you can wash his, too. Go on,’ she said, giving Maudie a push when the little girl showed no sign of moving.

  ‘What were you and Pa doing, talking about me like that?’ Lizzie said. ‘In front of the little ones, too! That Maudie picks up everything you say.’

&n
bsp; ‘It’s just how your pa talks, take no notice. He’s got ideas about how wives should be… well, kept in line.’

  ‘Humph! Don’t you go taking any notice of him either.’

  ‘No,’ Frank agreed absently. ‘He said people say I’m stupid. I suppose they’re all laughing at me.’

  ‘Well, they’ve no business saying it. It’s not true, anyway. If anyone ever says it to me I give them a piece of my mind.’

  Frank sat down at the table beside her. ‘Do you really think I’m stupid, Lizzie?’

  ‘Of course not! Don’t be stup—I mean, don’t talk rot.’

  ‘You said you did a couple of minutes ago. I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t buy those cows after all. I’d only make a mess of it, get us in trouble.’

  Lizzie put down a half-peeled potato and looked seriously at him. ‘You should listen properly, Frank. Like I said, half the time I do think it’s mad. Then—’ her head swivelled to the passage door, and barely skipping a beat she spoke in a louder voice. ‘That’s not clean! Wash your face properly, and Joey’s too.’

  ‘But Mama, I want to—’ Maudie said from the doorway.

  Lizzie lifted a finger in warning. ‘You heard me, Edith Maud.’ Maudie disappeared as quickly as she had come. ‘Then I listen to you talking,’ Lizzie said, turning back to Frank, ‘and I believe it all—I think it’s the best idea anyone’s ever thought of.’ She wiped a damp hand on her apron and placed it over Frank’s. ‘Do what you think’s right, Frank. Whatever you decide, I’ll be behind you.’

  ‘Lizzie,’ Frank said, clutching her hand, ‘you make me feel like I could do anything in the world.’

  *

  The day Frank’s cows arrived, half the male population of the town seemed to find some excuse to be hanging around near Ruatane wharf when the Douglas came in. Frank was pacing up and down the wharf a full hour before the little boat appeared, rounding the bend in the coast just before it crossed the bar into the river mouth. Frank let out his breath in a sigh of relief as he saw the boat gain the safety of the calmer water.