‘Thank you, James, I’m not deaf yet.’ Tamar reached for her cup of tea and balanced it carefully on the wide arm of her chair. ‘The New Zealand Legion? I thought you were following the New Zealand National Movement?’
‘I am. The name’s been changed.’
Tamar said something she knew she would probably regret. ‘Oh yes, I read about it in one of the papers recently. Isn’t it a Fascist group?’
James looked thoroughly appalled, and Tamar had to stop herself from smiling. ‘No, it most certainly is not!’ he said.
‘Oh, well, I’m very sorry, James, but the editor of this particular news paper implied strongly that the New Zealand Legion has definite Fascist leanings.’
‘Rubbish. The papers can never write anything without distorting it one way or another. No, we’re a group of conservatives bound together by a common interest in saving this country from social and economic ruin resulting from state paternalism, overly liberal social policies and reckless borrowing. The Legion aims to maintain law and order, and encourage and stimulate what is best for our public life. We fully support nationalism and self-reliance.’
‘Really, James, you sound as though you’re reading straight from some sort of political pamphlet.’
James reddened. ‘Certain words and phrases are particularly apt to describe what we hope to achieve. And I support their sentiments wholeheartedly.’
Tamar took a sip of her tea. ‘But isn’t the government we already have quite conservative? Didn’t you even vote for it yourself?’
‘It’s not doing what it was elected to do, and it has to be changed before matters in this country deteriorate any further, don’t you see?’
Tamar noted he had sidestepped her question. ‘All right then, dear, but what does this have to do with me?’
‘You don’t see, do you?’ James sighed in exasperation and sat back, ignoring the cup of tea going cold at his elbow. ‘Look, what sort of prices have you been getting for Kenmore wool lately? Not very good ones, I’ll bet.’
‘No, they’re not very good, as a matter of fact. They’ve dropped almost fifty per cent since the crash. And you know that, James, so why do you ask?’
‘Because I want to make sure you know it.’
‘Well, of course I know it. How could I not? I’ve managed Kenmore’s accounts for years.’
‘And do you know why the prices are so low?’
‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’
‘Because the Coalition government has mismanaged the market, that’s why. There must be rigid demarcation between state and private enterprise. An unbridled socialist government will be the death of New Zealand.’
Tamar was beginning to lose her patience. ‘Oh, get off your soapbox, James. Go back into town and have a look at the queues outside the soup kitchens and tell me again about our unbridled socialist government. That soup is the only meal some of those people get each day. Little children, James, and pregnant women surviving on one bowl of soup! It’s an absolute disgrace.’
‘Yes, but if the government wasn’t doling out that soup, those people would be encouraged to find work and support themselves!’
Tamar stared out through the French doors and breathed deeply through her nose until she had regained control of her temper. ‘What exactly was it you wanted to talk to me about, James?’
‘There’s not much point now,’ he replied truculently. ‘I can see you’ve a bee in your bonnet about what I’ve said already.’
Tamar fixed her son with a cool, controlled gaze. ‘There are no bees whatsoever in my bonnet. Please do go on.’
James, too enamoured with what he was about to say, missed the warning signs. ‘Well, you may or may not know that a lot of the members of the Legion, those from this area any way, and from the south, are sheep farmers. There are plenty of business men too, bankers and lawyers and what have you, but sheep farmers really are very well represented.’
‘Small land owners, or big station owners?’ Tamar asked. ‘Because a lot of the small farmers don’t have their land any more, a fact of which I’m sure, as a banker, you’ll be thoroughly aware.’
‘I mean station owners, farmers with substantial holdings. In fact, several out this way have joined just recently. And what I was considering … well, we, really, what we were considering …’
‘“We”?’
‘I and my colleagues, at the bank and in the Legion. We’d like to extend an invitation to you, as part owner and manager of one of the largest and more profitable sheep stations in the Hawke’s Bay, to join us, to become a member and support and contribute to our policies and help change New Zealand for the better. And Uncle Lachie too, of course.’
‘But James, I’m a woman.’
James missed his mother’s sarcasm completely. ‘In fact, Roland Peacocke suggested it himself. He had a word with me this week so I said I’d talk to you about it as soon as I had the opportunity.’
Tamar replaced her teacup on a side table. ‘The manager of the bank would like Lachie and me to become members of the New Zealand Legion?’
‘That’s right. It would be a great opportunity. Think of what could be achieved. If we could change the government, we could end the Depression here in New Zealand, improve profits for landowners, which of course includes us, and help get the country back on an even keel. It’s a tremendous thing to be involved in, Mam, it really is. And it would almost certainly mean an end to the Labour Party, which can only be good for New Zealand.’
Tamar judged correctly that this would be the wrong time to reveal to James that she had been voting for Labour ever since it was formed. She looked at her son and her heart almost broke — because of his naivety, and because of his obvious ignorance of her beliefs and the way she saw the world.
She’d been pleased to see in him the sort of enthusiasm he’d shown as a younger man, before he went away to war, but was disturbed to discover that it was for something as crack-pot and ominous-sounding as the New Zealand Legion. It was reasonably common knowledge that the movement consisted of wealthy men made nervous by increased taxation, and enraged by the Coalition’s introduction of vaguely socialist measures. Tamar was not a socialist — not a politically active one any way — but her working-class roots gave her a sympathy with the so-called lower classes, despite her now privileged station in life. But James obviously didn’t feel the same way, not any more.
It was true he’d been raised at Kenmore in a very comfortable and happy home, had received a good private education and then gone straight into the army where his social status had helped his military career. But he’d had a real knack for soldiering too, and an affinity with his men that had guaranteed their commitment and loyalty. That had been proved both here in New Zealand and while James had been over seas. In fact, Tamar suspected that the loyalty of James’s men — ordinary blokes from farms and blacksmiths’ forges and factories and coal mines — had been all that had kept him from the firing squad in France.
But that had been a long time ago, and James had changed enormously since then. His war experiences had isolated him, made him judgmental and narrow-minded, and turned his fear into sanctimony. And now it seemed to Tamar that his feelings of inadequacy, his desperation for respect and maybe even redemption, had propelled him into a situation where he was floundering, and he didn’t even know it. She wasn’t mistrustful by nature, but more than seventy years of life had made her wise and very shrewd, and if she wasn’t mistaken — and she hardly ever was these days — her son was being taken advantage of. ‘And what manner of support does Mr Peacocke have in mind?’
James looked at her, and for a moment a shadow of discomfort flickered across his face. ‘Well, public backing of the Legion’s policies, of course, attendance at meetings, that sort of thing. And perhaps some financial assistance.’
Ah, thought Tamar. ‘How much financial assistance?’
James shrugged. ‘The local members have all made donations.’
‘How
much have you given?’
James looked affronted. ‘Really, Mam, that’s a bit personal. Oh, all right, five hundred pounds.’
Tamar closed her eyes briefly. ‘And how much has everyone else given?’
‘It’s not the sort of thing one bandies about, the amount one has donated.’
‘So you don’t know?’
‘No.’
‘What if you’re the only one?’
‘Oh, really, Mam, why must you be so suspicious! Everyone has given something, or at least made a pledge to!’
‘So would I be correct in assuming that this Legion of yours is not very well funded.’
‘It’s early days yet.’
‘But aren’t most of the members wealthy land owners and businessmen?’
At this point James didn’t know what to say to his mother — she was right, and he wasn’t entirely clear regarding why there was so little money to finance the Legion’s activities.
He changed the subject. ‘It’s not just money you could contribute. It would be wonderful to have the Murdoch family name on the members’ list. Or even on the national council of delegates.’ He was starting to sound desperate.
‘Your name’s already on the members’ list. What’s wrong with that?’
‘Well, nothing, of course. But …’
‘But what?’
James looked his mother directly in the eye, and she had the distinct impression that he was blaming her for something. ‘I don’t run this station, Mam, you do. You and Lachie. I may be a Murdoch but I don’t have any influence at all when it comes to the family business. You’ve made sure of that.’
Tamar couldn’t deny this. ‘You will when the time comes, James, you know that.’
‘When the time comes!’ he exploded. ‘And when it does, there’ll be Joseph and Keely and Thomas and Erin as well!’
‘I don’t really expect that Thomas will be all that interested.’
‘You know what I mean! I’m the eldest, Mam, I’m the eldest Murdoch. When will that ever be acknowledged?’
Tamar stared at her son for a long moment; this tantrum had gone on long enough. ‘But you’re not my eldest child,’ she replied, though not unkindly.
James jerked back in his seat as if he had been slapped. Then he raised his hands and put them over his face, and Tamar wondered if he was weeping. But when they came down again to rest limply in his lap, she saw that his eyes were dry. Unfathomably weary, but dry.
‘Mam, you have to understand. I must be someone, I have to mean something. This is my chance to do that.’ He reddened again, embarrassed to have revealed so much of his private torment. ‘So will you consider lending your support to the Legion? Please don’t let me down.’
And then he added something that he didn’t really mean, and it made everything so much worse, but as he sensed his mother gathering the words to turn him down he was suddenly overwhelmed with panic and despair.
‘You’ve always favoured Joseph, and you treat Owen more like a son than you do me. I think I’m entitled to your support at least just this once.’
Tamar thought of the opportunities that James had been given during his life and, after he’d come home from the war, all the support and second chances and tolerance and forgiveness and patience.
‘No, James. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t help you. Not this time.’
He picked up his hat and rose to his feet in one swift, angry movement. When the parlour door slammed behind him, Tamar remained seated, gazing unseeingly across the room.
‘Aren’t they a pack of malcontents with too much money and nothing better to do than whine about taxes?’ asked Lachie, helping himself to another large dollop of Creamoata and slopping it into his grandson’s Sergeant Dan bowl, made redundant now that Robert had decided he was too grown up to use it. There were flecks of porridge in Lachie’s white beard and down the front of his work jersey.
‘Something like that,’ Tamar replied. ‘They seem to stand for just about everything I don’t. And do you know what really upset me, Lachie? The fact that he thought it would be something I’d actually want to support. He knows we give meat and what have you to the soup kitchens every week, and he knows how much I support what the girls are doing.’ Angrily, she buttered another piece of toast. ‘What on earth made him think I would want to join an organisation that wants to do away with social services, especially these days?’
‘Aye, it does demonstrate a wee lack of thought. Any way, I thought their main aim was to end the Depression?’
‘Apparently, but you and I would like to do that too, wouldn’t we? And we’re not advocating taking food out of the mouths of babes.’
‘Tamar, love, you always see things in black and white, don’t you?’
Tamar cut her toast in half. ‘Perhaps. Andrew used to say that too. But sometimes things are either black or white.’
Lachie blotted his lips, beard and jersey with a table napkin and burped discreetly. ‘Well, I’ll not be joining any New Zealand Legion. I’ve enough to do as it is without gallivanting about the countryside attending dreary meetings and throwing good money after bad.’ He looked across the table at Tamar and pulled a wry face. ‘And the lad wasn’t too happy about your turning down his invitation?’
‘No, he wasn’t. He stormed out without a word. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the door slam from up in the top paddock.’
‘His pride, do you think?’
‘I expect so.’ Although she knew that desperation had also been driving her son. ‘I think he feels I’ve let him down in front of his friends.’
‘Well, he should have discussed the matter with you first, rather than the other way around.’
‘Actually, I suspect his “friends” approached him about it. I’ve never particularly liked Mr Roland Peacocke — far too arrogant and oily for his own good. I much preferred old MacGregor Sinclair before he retired.’
‘Perhaps the lad felt he had no choice in the matter.’ Lachie folded his napkin, took a last noisy slurp of his tea and pushed his chair back from the table. ‘God knows I’m fond of James, Tamar, but I think it’s high time he stood on his own two feet and stopped trying to curry favour from that crowd he’s mixing with. He didn’t used to be like that.’
‘He didn’t used to be a lot of things, Lachie,’ Tamar said harshly.
‘Aye, well, I can understand you being angry.’
‘I am angry. He said some very unkind things about the others. And about me. This bickering and bullying and mistrust of anyone who ever tries to do anything good for him has gone on for years, Lachie, years! Lucy’s oppressed by him, Duncan despises him and he scares Kathleen and Drew silly whenever he’s in one of his moods. I’ve had enough, I really have. This time he can get himself out of trouble.’
Lachie raised his eyebrows. ‘Yes, trouble. You know it’s always his “trouble” when he gets this desperate.’
CHAPTER FOUR
I’ve bailed James out before, you know,’ Tamar said to Kepa.
They were in the living room of the little house on Marine Parade, with the French doors fastened open so that the smell of the sea wafted in on the spring breeze, together with the sound of seagulls screeching raucously over something dead on the beach.
‘And will you do it again?’ Kepa asked, his feet propped comfortably on a low table in front of him and a small glass of whisky on the arm of his chair. He loved these rare times when he had Tamar all to himself. Today they had all afternoon, and all night too, if they chose.
Tamar took a small sip of her brandy and shifted in her seat; if she sat too long in one position her bad leg would invariably become stiff, then she would have to use the despised cane the following day.
‘No, I won’t.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘He does not want money for himself, though, this time, does he?’
‘Well, no, he didn’t ask for it directly, but he might as well have. I very much suspe
ct that his fine and upstanding colleagues in the New Zealand Legion have him over a barrel, Kepa.’ She rubbed a finger around the top of her glass, hoping to hear the crystal sing. It didn’t. ‘Well, I say “colleagues”, but I suspect that only a handful are behind this particular nasty little manoeuvre. Perhaps even only one. I don’t believe that the Legion is inherently bad, just somewhat misguided. But James must really have outdone himself this time to be in this sort of pickle.’
‘It may be your standing as a very successful station owner that they are wanting. You have influence in this area, after all.’
‘Not in those circles, I don’t.’
‘You do, Tamar. Obviously James has gambled himself into serious debt again, has borrowed from the bank and now cannot pay it back. Someone, perhaps this Roland Peacocke, has offered to cancel the debt if you agree to support this political organisation of his.’
‘How do you know that?’
Kepa shrugged. ‘I am simply guessing. But is that not what you are thinking?’
‘More or less, yes. I hope he’s only borrowed money. I hope he hasn’t taken out a mortgage on their house — Lucy would be devastated if they lost that. She would die of the shame.’
‘I doubt it. She would feel humiliated, yes, but I do not think she would die.’
‘But it would be disastrous for them, especially the children. I’m more than happy to do whatever is needed for my grandchildren and my daughter-in-law, but I’ve come to the point where I really have no compunction about letting James finally reap what he’s been sowing these last years.’
‘That is certainly a relief to hear,’ Kepa said, who would happily have abandoned James to his own inept devices ages ago if he’d had any say at all in the matter. He had never interfered in Tamar’s family, except where Joseph was concerned, and had no intention of starting now. Tamar had very rarely denied her children anything, and in his view this recent change of conduct was not an altogether bad thing. ‘So that is that, then?’ he added, a note of admiration in his voice.
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