by Tony Parsons
Yet despite the present atmosphere of doom and gloom David believed that the wool market would come good; otherwise, he would never have borrowed money to buy Molonga and Wirrewarra. The best-quality wool was still making fair money, but the problem was that costs were so high that it was considered 600 cents per kilogram at least was needed to cover costs. Traditional woolgrowers were turning away from wool or using some of their ewes to produce prime lambs. It was a depressing scene, yet David was determined to resist becoming depressed.
David and Catriona were enjoying morning smoko and a chat on their front verandah. They had made several additions to the house since they moved into it after their honeymoon twenty-odd years earlier. Part of the front verandah had been closed in to provide a sleepout and the remainder of the verandah had been gauzed. There were steps from the verandah to a paved front area with low shrubs that didn’t spoil the view across the creek and up to Yellow Rock. Catriona’s garden had flourished, and all around the house there was an explosion of mostly Australian natives, and particularly hakeas and grevilleas, filling the garden with blossoms and native birds.
In the paddock below the house that skirted the creek there were a few mares and some Hereford cows. It was a tranquil scene and David and Catriona never tired of gazing out at it when they had a quiet moment together. On this day they were alone because Moira had taken the day off to visit an old school friend. This was a rare event because to some extent Moira had taken over from Catriona as David’s companion. Catriona’s time was increasing spent with her mother, who stubbornly resisted having bypass surgery.
Catriona had made a point of accompanying David and Moira when Molonga and Wirrewarra were officially sold to become part of the High Peaks Pastoral Company. She studied Linda Barden very closely, and found her much as Moira had described her – a woman in her late thirties who had once been very attractive and who still cared about her appearance. It wasn’t that Linda had acted in a way that was threatening to Catriona, but she did want David to notice her, to admire her and to like her. It was there in the way she dressed and put on fresh makeup when they went back to Wirrewarra for meals or smokos. Linda had discovered that David liked Anzac biscuits, and she made sure her biscuit tin was always full.
Catriona imagined that if she were not on the scene Linda would make a more direct move to win David’s affections. But of course Catriona was pie-eyed when it involved her husband. Now her mother was making such demands on her that she could not go with David to Wirrewarra. For the first time she had to be thankful that Moira would be with him.
As they sat on the verandah looking out across High Peaks they discussed the issue of securing a manager for Molonga and Wirrewarra. They would need someone to live at Molonga when Len and Beth Murray moved out, and before long there would be several thousand ewes on the two places. Angus was at Longreach Pastoral College, Shaun Covers looked after Glen Morrison and Greg Robertson was tied up at Strath Fillan and helping at High Peaks and Poitrel. The absence of Dougal was now making itself felt, as David had foreseen. It seemed there was no alternative but to employ an outsider, something David had never wanted to do. He regretted that young Tim Barden wasn’t a few years older.
It was while David and Catriona were discussing what to do when the Murrays left Molonga that they saw a white utility come across the grid into their house paddock. It wasn’t a vehicle that David recognised and he stood up to obtain a better view of the driver. It wouldn’t be a rep, because they all drove late-model vehicles. It was more likely to be a dog or horse crank because such people dropped in on a regular basis.
‘It’s a woman, a young woman,’ he said, as he watched the driver of the utility get out of the vehicle. ‘What do you know, it’s Sarah Matheson, Cat.’
Catriona got up and stood beside him. ‘So it is. Sarah was due home a week or so ago. She’s just finished at Longreach, and apparently she’s done very well.’
As Sarah Matheson came up to the front steps, David held the screen door open for her. He scrutinised her as she walked through.
‘Hello, Sarah, this is a pleasant surprise,’ Catriona greeted her. ‘Nothing wrong at home?’
‘Nothing that money wouldn’t fix, Mrs MacLeod. How are you, Mr MacLeod?’ Sarah asked.
‘I’m fine, Sarah. Finished at Longreach?’ he asked.
‘Yes, finished. Look, you must think I’ve got a frightful hide coming here unannounced, but Mum said she was sure you wouldn’t mind.’
‘Mum’s right. Try some of Cat’s orange cake, Sarah. It’s very good,’ David said pulling out a chair for her and passing her the plate.
It was obvious that Sarah had gone to some trouble with her appearance. Her white moleskins were spotless and her blouse was nicely ironed. Even her brown elastic-side boots were bright with polish. But the young woman herself would have stood out in just about any kind of clothes. Both Dianne, a blonde, and Sarah, brunette, had been nice-looking girls in their early teens, but Sarah had truly blossomed with age. She was wearing just a hint of makeup and her dark, wavy hair was thick and shiny, tied low at the nape of her neck. Her figure was just as good as Moira’s, which was saying something, and by David’s calculation she would be almost twenty-one.
Emily had told David and Catriona that Sarah had been the most affected by her father’s suicide and the subsequent removal of herself and Dianne from boarding school, together with their vastly reduced financial circumstances.
‘How was Longreach, Sarah?’ Catriona asked.
‘It was all right, Mrs MacLeod. Like Mr Mac said I think it was the right place to go, with its focus on livestock. And the horses were a bonus. The boys were a bit of a problem – if you know what I mean,’ Sarah said, and looked meaningfully at Catriona.
Catriona laughed. ‘Don’t you like boys, Sarah?’ she asked.
‘Not particularly – especially when you find out what they’re really after. They all drink too much. I prefer horses. Oh, I know there are some decent men – like you, Mr Mac, and like your father must have been. I’m aware of how much you’ve helped Mum and Dianne. That’s why I’ve come here today. I’m wondering if you can give me a job. Mum said you’ve bought another couple of properties and I know Angus is at Longreach and Dougal is at university. I’d really like to work for you, Mr Mac. I can do anything a man can do, from shoeing horses to inseminating them. And sheep, too,’ she said.
David and Catriona exchanged glances.
‘I’m not a vet but I can do a lot of things a vet can do,’ Sarah implored, keen to impress them.
‘Why did you come here specifically, Sarah?’ David asked.
‘For several reasons, Mr MacLeod. Nobody else in this district has the name you have. You’re doing big things with sheep and cattle. Furthermore, Mum says that she’d trust you where she wouldn’t trust a lot of men,’ Sarah said.
‘It’s a comfort to know that I’m regarded in the wider community as morally reliable, Sarah,’ David said, and smiled at her. Today’s young women were very upfront and candid in their views, and yet he instinctively liked Sarah Matheson. She appeared to be an innately honest young woman. In fact, he hadn’t met another young woman exactly like her.
‘Are there any openings for me at High Peaks Pastoral Company?’ she asked in her direct way.
‘I’m not going to give you an answer right now, Sarah, but I will think about it. No doubt you’ve had a solid grounding and I’m sure you’d be very reliable but I have to be honest with you and say I have some doubts about employing a woman. I doubt I could employ you where I could employ a man, in terms of looking after an isolated property. It wouldn’t be right. Do you appreciate what I’m saying?’ he asked.
‘I don’t agree with you Mr MacLeod, but I know where you’re coming from,’ Sarah sighed. ‘It always gets back to the same thing: a woman is disadvantaged because she is a woman. Well, I’m sorry if I’ve wasted your time. Mum said to come here first.’ She knew she could have raised the legalities of sexual d
iscrimination, but thought better of it in the light of all David MacLeod had done for her family.
‘Don’t get on your high horse, young lady. I haven’t said I won’t give you a job – I said I would think about it. How are you off for money?’
‘I put all I had from Dad into that secondhand utility so I could get around. I can’t ask Mum for anything. Di works but she’ll be getting married in the near future so there’ll only be Mum and me. I want to do things with the horses – breed some winners. You can’t do that without money,’ she said.
David and Catriona listened carefully to all Sarah was saying.
‘We can’t afford to send mares away to good sires because we don’t have the money. There are some good old mares going to waste – not to mention Starana, who probably has some kind of internal problem that a good vet could fix. I could cry when I look at her and the other old mares.’
This cri de coeur touched a chord in David’s heart. He and his father had never tried to get into thoroughbreds for the very reason Sarah had just revealed – a lack of money. They had been lucky with Ajana and Davana. David knew that. Wilf White had done the work and they had benefited. David knew, as his father had known before him, that you could spend a lot of money on thoroughbreds for very little – if any – return. The only way most people could indulge their dreams about owning racehorses was by syndication.
‘Have you thought of putting together a syndicate to purchase services?’ he asked.
‘It’s a lot harder to do that than to form syndicates for yearlings on the ground, Mr MacLeod. With a yearling there’s something to see, something to offer people. I’ll give you that syndication is a great way for people to get involved in racing horses because the costs are too much for the average person, but a service is another matter. Without money you can’t use the sires that produce a lot of winners,’ Sarah said.
‘I realise all that, Sarah. But I wouldn’t turn away from trying to form a syndicate for the purchase of a service. I remember that one of the mares Lew Hooper picked out to buy back was a cracking mare on breeding. She ought to produce something good to the right sire. The challenge is to produce a great horse without it costing a mint. There are any amount of instances of top horses being bred from inexpensive stock. If I remember right Flight didn’t cost much and Bernborough was another. The way they’re reared is a big factor. Then there’s the ability to pick a good horse. You should go and talk to Lew Hooper. Lew picked up a lot from Wilf White, who knew thoroughbreds and their pedigrees better than anyone around here,’ David said.
‘Mum told me about Wilf White and Ajana. We thought we might have been lucky enough to get her daughter in foal but we never have. It might have made all the difference. I think Mum would have mortgaged the place if Starana had been a breeder. We’d have bred her to a top horse,’ Sarah said. She stood up and looked at the view through the fly mesh that enclosed the front verandah. ‘It’s a lovely view. That’s Yellow Rock, isn’t it?’
David nodded.
‘It must be something to ride over that country. No wonder you’ve got such good-footed horses. Everyone talks about your stock horses,’ Sarah said.
‘That was one of the reasons we let your mother have Starana, Sarah. She was a bit clumsy in the hills. So was her mother. Of course, it was a different thing on the racetrack. Horses for courses, Sarah,’ he said, and smiled.
‘Well, thanks for your time, Mr MacLeod. It’s nice to see you both again. Mum is always talking about you. She said that even if you wouldn’t give me a job, you wouldn’t throw me out on my ear.’
‘Never that, Sarah. I admire what you’re trying to do. I’ll have a think about where we’re going and whether I could find a position for you. I’ll be in touch,’ David said.
Catriona stood with him and together they watched Sarah as she walked down the path to her utility.
‘You like her, don’t you, David?’ Catriona asked.
‘Yes, I like her, Cat. There is a lot to like about her. Sarah is the kind of girl the bush needs. Imagine what kind of wife she would make for the right man – supposing one man could win her. She seems to have a set against men right now,’ he said.
‘Wow, Sarah must have impressed you. You couldn’t employ her, though, could you,’ Catriona said – and it was more of a statement than a question.
‘Is that what you think, Cat?’ he asked.
‘It wouldn’t look right, darling. Sarah would be working with you and people would talk. You know what they’re like. You may be a bush icon but you’re a man, and still a very presentable one at that. Imagine what people would say if they saw you and Sarah working together on a fairly constant basis. Sarah is a very tasty morsel. Tasty enough to fuel a lot of gossip,’ Catriona said decidedly.
‘So you wouldn’t trust me with her – is that it? You think I’m at that funny age when I might need a bit of variety, that you’re not enough for me?’ he said, and raised his eyebrows.
‘It’s not a matter of trust, darling, it’s a matter of appearance. You could behave impeccably and people would still talk. It’s the nature of people – especially those who live in small country towns. They’re good people, but they love to gossip.’
‘Mmm,’ he said.
‘And aren’t I enough for you, darling?’ she asked.
He took her in his arms and kissed her along her neck. ‘You’ve always been enough for me, Cat. You should know that. I hear what you’re saying, and you’re right: people would talk. However, having given this some more thought, I think it’s a damned shame if I can’t employ a person with Sarah’s credentials simply because she happens to be a female. There’s also the fact that we have two sons and –’
‘You cunning fox. I didn’t think you had it in you, David MacLeod. You want to employ her, don’t you? You really do want Sarah?’
‘I’ll think some more about it, Cat. Sarah could be the answer to what we need but I admit the gossip could be stupendous. It seems so unfair that a girl who’s done a pastoral course should be discriminated against because of her sex. Besides, technically speaking, you can’t do that, Cat. You can’t advertise for a male manager of a property – not these days. Of course, you don’t have to give the job to a woman because you can always say that the man had the best credentials. In Sarah’s case it could be that she’s a damned sight better proposition than most fellows. She’d probably be more conscientious. I like the fact that she wants to do something with their horses. And I’ll bet she hasn’t smashed up a vehicle like our youngest offspring.’ This incident still rankled, as Catriona well knew.
‘I could send her out to Molonga,’ David went on. ‘That would get her away from a lot of the gossip.’
‘Send a girl her age out to manage those two places? That’s a big ask, David. Quite apart from the work, would it be fair to expect a young woman to live on her own so far from home?’ Catriona asked.
‘I’m going to put in a gravel road between Molonga and Wirrewarra. It’s only about a mile as the crow flies. I dare say Sarah and Linda would get on very well.’
‘You don’t know that, darling. I think you’re tough expecting a girl of her age to manage two places. There’ll be crutching and shearing and lamb marking; teams of men and she on her own.’
‘She won’t be on her own. I’ll be out there for those occasions,’ David told her.
‘The country isn’t like it was, David. Women have been taken off places before now. If it’s known that Sarah is there on her own, she could be at risk. Anyway, I think you should talk to Anne and Kate before you make up your mind about Sarah,’ Catriona said.
Catriona had a lot of reservations about the wisdom of employing Sarah Matheson. Her husband might never have looked at another woman, but he had never before worked alongside the likes of Sarah. Right now David was only concerned with Sarah’s competence and with the fact that she had the right grounding to suit his future plans for more and better wool production. But what about when they were in
seminating sheep and sharing meals together? Linda Barden was one thing, but Sarah Matheson was quite another. All of Catriona’s old fears resurfaced at the thought of this young woman working with her husband. David was still a strapping man and he was a bush legend. He had been the biggest thing in her life and still was. The children were lovely in their own way but they had their own lives to live – David was a constant and she couldn’t envisage her life without him.
Later that afternoon Catriona communicated her reservations to Anne and Kate. She didn’t put into words that she saw Sarah as a danger to her happily married life but concentrated instead on what she regarded as her unsuitability for the job David had in mind. Anne, still acute despite her age, could see both sides of the picture and, in fact, saw more than Catriona had intended to give away. Anne had always wanted Catriona for her son and the couple had been very happy. They didn’t need a hiccup at this stage of their lives. So she was well aware of the situation when David came to talk to her and Kate just before dinner.
‘I think it’s very unfair if I can’t employ Sarah Matheson because of the possible gossip it would create,’ David said. ‘That’s allowing other people to influence your decision, something I have always resisted. Under these new laws you can’t refuse employment on the basis of a person’s sex. If Sarah is the best person for the job, she should get it,’ David said forcefully.
‘There are no other applicants, David. It’s not as if there were a dozen and she was the best. There would certainly be gossip and there are people who would like to pull you down. It’s the tall poppy syndrome that permeates Australian society. If you were seen simply helping Sarah over a fence that would be magnified in the telling. I’ve lived in this area for over fifty years and there are some great people here, but there are many who love to gossip.