by Tony Parsons
Catriona had once been intimidated by Kate. She had been a sister at the Merriwa Hospital for some time while living at Poitrel and she had always seemed so ruthlessly efficient it was frightening. She ran Glen Morrison just as effortlessly, and instituted a storeroom in which every item was classified and easily found. It was the talk of the district and many local landowners found an excuse to inspect Kate’s handiwork.
Even in the narrow hospital bed Kate seemed very small and frail. Anne got up as David and Catriona came into the room. Angus and Sue-Ellen were in the small waiting room. David carried a second chair to Kate’s bedside and took her small, fine-boned hand in his great paw. Kate’s eyes flickered open and she gave him a weak smile.
‘It looks like the last muster, Davie boy.’
‘Don’t talk like that, Kate. You can beat this little attack,’ he said huskily.
‘This isn’t just a broken leg on Wallaby Rocks, David. The old bod has packed it in.’ Her voice was weak and Catriona had to strain to hear Kate’s words.
‘You remember the day Wilf White came and told Andy and Anne he wanted you to have Poitrel?’ Kate asked.
‘Like it was yesterday, Kate.’
‘I never did have to wallop you, David,’ she said. He remembered that when Kate had become a director of the High Peaks Pastoral Company prior to his father leaving to shear in Queensland, Andrew had told him that his aunt could wallop him if he misbehaved.
‘I’ll bet you felt like it a few times,’ he said.
‘Never once, David. If I had had a son I would have wanted him to be just like you.’
David’s eyes burned, as he fought back his tears.
‘Thank you for making me your offsider. You made me very happy, and I feel very fulfilled. And thank you for the way you looked after me on Wallaby Rocks all those years go. I couldn’t have wished for a better companion.’
She lapsed into silence for a few minutes and David and Catriona watched her anxiously. Eventually she spoke again, this time to Catriona.
‘I wasn’t so terrible, was I Catriona?’
‘Only until I knew you better, Kate. You will always be special to me as well as to David and the children,’ Catriona said.
‘That is so comforting. Family is so important to me. Andy wanted a big family, and he finally got one. I loved Andy, Catriona. I would have had him like a shot had Anne passed him up. He and David … the best men I’ve ever known. You were right to wait for David, Catriona. Oh, David, I’m so tired.’
‘Kate, don’t talk. Angus wants to come in and see you. Will you see him?’
‘Of course, Davie. Angus and his girl. Do you like her, Davie?’
‘I think she will be just great for Angus, Kate.’
‘Someone to take my place, Davie.’
‘Nobody will ever take your place, Kate. Nobody, you hear?’
‘I want you to put me up there on the knoll next to Andy, David. Me on one side and Anne on the other. Will you do that for me?’
‘Whatever you want, Kate.’
‘Thank you, Davie. Will you get Moira, and then Angus?’ she said weakly.
When Kate next opened her eyes Moira was bent over her and tears were gliding down her cheeks.
‘Don’t cry, sweetheart. We all have to go sometime, and I’ve had a full, rewarding life. I want you to know I am so happy you’ve been such a wonderful daughter for Davie. He and I are so very proud of you,’ Kate said, squeezing Moira’s hand.
‘Oh Kate, you’ve been such an inspiration to me for all of my life. Thank you for all you’ve done, all you’ve given, and all you’ve passed on to me. I can’t bear to imagine the place without you,’ Moira stammered.
‘Hush, now, love. The land needs you, Moira. One day you’ll be manager of Glen Morrison. I know you will. I’m so very tired, Moira. Can you get Angus for me?’
Angus sat with one hand clasped in his great-aunt’s bony fingers and his other hand held tightly by his fiancée. ‘Listen to me, Angus.’
‘I’m listening, Aunt,’ Angus said, tears welling in his eyes. He had grown up with this woman attending his cuts and sprains and she was something else. ‘He’s depending on you, Angus. Davie is depending on you, just as Andy is, from above. He’s built up a great business for you. If you let him down, I’ll come back and haunt you, Angus.’
‘You would too, Aunt. I won’t let Dad down. I know I’ve been an idiot at times but I’m over all that. I’ve got Sue-Ellen now.’
‘So you have. Watch your Dad when Anne goes, Angus. He hit the depths of depression when we lost Andy. Only time Davie was ever depressed. Goodbye, Angus and Sue-Ellen. Much happiness with my family. Get them, please, Angus.’
Angus bent and kissed his great-aunt and then hurried from the room. The talking had tired her, and she looked much older when the others came back to stand beside her. When she opened her eyes she looked at David and gave what passed for a smile.
‘You’ll need another director for High Peaks, Davie.’
These were the last words Kate spoke. She died later surrounded by the love of her family. Once only she opened her eyes and looked at them and gave a tiny nod. David said later that it was a nod of approval.
Kate’s passing was especially traumatic for Anne and David because she was so much part of High Peaks. Kate’s never-failing good humour had helped to sustain them through tough times. There was no job she wouldn’t tackle with a laugh. Sue-Ellen noted how much Kate’s death had affected the family. She knew then if she had not known before that this was the kind of family she wanted to be part of, to belong to.
People came from near and far to farewell Kate Gilmour. One man who travelled a long way was Bruce McClymont, himself now old but still breeding the occasional litter of kelpies. Bruce had known Kate when she was at her irrepressible best and he never tired of talking about her rescue off Wallaby Rocks. So Bruce came to mourn with the people he loved and respected most in the whole country. Bruce reckoned that when it was his turn to leave the world of men and dogs, the MacLeods would come to see him off.
As is the strange way life works out, Sue-Ellen’s coming was marked by Kate Gilmour’s passing. Anne was now left alone in the big homestead. She resolutely refused to leave and told David she was quite capable of looking after herself. David insisted on employing a local woman to come one day a week to do the washing and general housework, and when Anne objected he said it was either that or she was to move in with himself, Catriona and Moira.
‘You’re very bossy to your old mother, David,’ Anne objected.
‘I want you here as long as possible, Mum. You’re very special to me. There comes a time, Mum, and that time’s now. It’s outside help or you move in with us. That’s unless you want to move into a nursing home,’ he said.
‘Perish the thought. All right, I’ll have someone one day a week, and thank you,’ Anne said.
David knew she would stay in the old homestead until the very end. His mother would never go into a nursing home. She would miss too much the visitors who called in to see her every day – if it wasn’t one of her own family it would be a neighbour, or one of the Campbell clan.
Anne was always pleased to see Angus Campbell. Angus was a year or so older than Anne and he still had his driver’s licence. Sometimes Angus would drive over on his own and other times he would come with Stuart or Carol. Angus came principally to see Catriona and to talk to David, who he now regarded as a great man.
Angus Campbell was failing in body but he was still alert mentally. Like a lot of old people he loved to reminisce. Despite the many improvements that had taken place in so many spheres, Angus still considered that the old days were hard to beat. Anne understood from conversations with Andrew that this was because just about everyone kowtowed to the big graziers. They had enormous pull with the old Country Party (now the National Party) and several pieces of legislation had been enacted to protect the interests of graziers and farmers. There was a difference between the two. The favouri
te reading matter for many graziers was the now defunct Pastoral Review. Angus had hundreds of copies of this magazine and regularly combed through them to refresh his memory about some fact or other. He knew that the old socio-economic lifestyle created by the nation’s dependence on primary industry – principally wool – was fading fast. In many areas cotton had replaced merinos and a great variety of new crops had been introduced in the search for greater profitability; in effect, to stay on the land.
Angus reckoned he had seen the best of the old days. The fifties had been great because the Korean War precipitated a great increase in the price for merino wool and generated such prosperity that Australia had perhaps the highest living standards in the entire world. From that point on it had been all downhill with a huge increase in costs and many bad decisions made by incompetent politicians.
Against this backdrop, Angus viewed David MacLeod as really belonging to the old school because he had tried to do what many of the really successful graziers of the past had done. Certainly he had not been backward in using new technology but in his outlook he was an old-style grazier. David had a passion for top-quality stock and for a chain of properties that made up an integrated operation. By comparison his own son, Stuart, was a stick-in-the-mud. Stuart had been content to carry on with Inverlochy, which was big enough to generate a respectable living. He would not have worried about purchasing the Missen property only that Angus had pushed him into it. Angus reckoned that a fellow could never own too much land.
Although Angus had always had an inflated opinion of his own importance because of his breeding and the land that he owned, he had also come to recognise that Anne MacLeod held a position in the hearts and minds of the district’s inhabitants that was far more intense than what was felt for him and for his late wife. There was nobody who would say a bad word about Anne. Anne was the mother of the district’s greatest achiever, which was something, but it was what Anne had contributed in so many ways over her lifetime that was remembered by all and sundry. For Angus, seeking to remember the past, Anne was the last real link with so much that was splendid and unforgettable. She was, he now knew, the most worthwhile woman he had ever known.
Chapter Fifteen
Angus Campbell had made many attempts, all unavailing, to persuade David MacLeod to become involved in both local government and the United Farmers organisation. Stuart had replaced Angus in some positions, but David resolutely refused to become involved.
‘Sorry, Angus, but no go. My first responsibility is to my family. I don’t have time to devote to meetings. If I start doing that, the properties will suffer. I know someone has to do it but let it be those who are so inclined. Some people like that sort of thing, but I don’t,’ David told him.
Angus had a similar response when he tried to enrol David as a member of the National Party. ‘I don’t have any time for politics and, for that matter, for politicians. If you look at New South Wales today, most of its problems – and our problems – stem from government decisions. If we had had the same rules and regulations that apply today back when the country was begun, how many would have bothered trying to set up properties? We made a country with hope, Angus, but governments are taking that away. I wouldn’t waste my time getting involved in that scene. It would be like bashing my head against a brick wall,’ David said adamantly.
Angus took his concerns to Anne who, he hoped, might be able to change her son’s mind. He was greeted with resistance there because Anne supported David’s point of view.
‘David isn’t that kind of person, Angus. He doesn’t like working with committees. He makes all the decisions based on what he thinks is the right way to proceed. He may not be as overtly public-spirited as you have been, but David is actually supporting a lot of people. There’s employees, mechanics, machinery dealers, shearers, shed hands, wool classers, accountants, transport companies, stock firms, bank employees, agricultural and veterinary companies, vets and all the local retailers plus, of course, insurance companies and local government bodies. There’s probably more if one thinks about it.
‘If the land is unviable, it affects all of those people and businesses. That’s what politicians seem to forget. They’re so busy squeezing more money from businesses they forget that if businesses and properties aren’t profitable, they can’t employ people. No wonder there are so many unemployed and no wonder companies are sourcing labour overseas. It’s very sad, Angus,’ Anne said.
Angus had to admit that what Anne said was true. He blamed the unions for a lot of what had happened but he knew deep down that governments were heavily at fault. There was very little vision today.
‘Ah, Anne, life is so short. It doesn’t seem any time since I came with Father to recover the body of David’s grandfather from Yellow Rock. Andrew should have outlived me because he was a great cut of a man yet he killed himself with work. He should be here to see what David has done with his life,’ Angus said remorsefully.
‘Sometimes I think I would be just as pleased if we simply owned this place and Poitrel, Angus. I’d be happy to see David going to sheepdog trials and an occasional campdraft. It’s all for his family, you know. David has the same thing in his head that Andy had. It’s all about owning land. For what, Angus? Dougal has gone and will have his profession. He’s lost to us. Moira is a great girl but if she marries she will probably go elsewhere. That leaves Angus. One boy. You can’t tell me you need eight properties to keep one boy and his family. And will young Angus be able to manage them? Will he want to?’
Angus pondered over all Anne said but was quick to disagree. ‘You can never have too much land. It isn’t a matter of greed or snobbery or anything like that. In Australia you need a lot of land. The seasons are erratic and even in a good season you’re never far from a bad one. We saw what happened when the blocks they gave to returned servicemen were too small. It’s like what’s happened with poultry and pigs. Years ago you could make a living with a thousand layers; you could do the same with fifty sows. It’s a different story today. Costs are beating us, Anne. It’s getting so that the smaller grain farmers can’t afford to replace their machinery.’
‘Yes Angus, so I understand,’ Anne sympathised.
‘I’ve talked to a lot of growers and the story is the same everywhere. There’s places that used to support ten men, and the owner and his wife are running them alone now. No wonder the smaller towns are dying. We’re producing the best wool and the best wheat in the whole damned world and the people who do it can’t make a decent living,’ Angus said, and shook his head.
Anne gave him a cup of tea and a plate of cake, which Angus took abstractedly.
‘It’s a damned poor outlook for young people, Anne. Those who get a taste of the big money in the cities won’t ever come back to the land. Then there’s this drug business, and there’s no answer in drugs. Young people need to be kept occupied, Anne. Too much time on their hands and they get into trouble. No doubt about it. No drugs when we were young, Anne. How can you develop a country when they’re on the dole and taking drugs?’ Angus went on, sending himself into a spiral of depression.
Anne knew that what Angus said was right but he was talking from the perspective of a man who had been born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth. Campbell forebears had been landowners for centuries in Scotland, and had been wealthy enough to finance a younger son onto land in Australia. A canny breed, they had never looked back. Children born of broken marriages and children abused by step-parents were not so fortunate.
‘Things have changed a lot, Anne,’ Angus said between mouthfuls of cake. ‘Do you know that at a meeting I was at, a fellow called me a dinosaur. The damned cheek of him. The chairman pulled him into gear – and so he should have. The fellow reckoned I was living in the past. Well, a lot of things were better in the past, a whole lot better. A man’s word meant something then. You’d never get Andy to go back on his word,’ Angus said.
‘I feel much the same way about today’s spelling,’ A
nne said with a smile. ‘However, today’s children have skills the children of our generation didn’t have, Angus. Education standards have to reflect what the community as a whole needs to progress. Moira and Sarah Matheson came from school well able to handle computers and to set up computer programs. To me a computer is simply a glorified typewriter, except that I know it is much more than that. Change is inevitable and it is usually traumatic, Angus. My grandson and your namesake said to me one day that “you have to go with the flow”. A silly statement perhaps, but probably very close to what I’m saying. We can’t live in the past, Angus. Nobody can. We have moved from crystal sets to computers in my lifetime and yours. Who would wish to go back to crystal sets? I know you pine for the days of your youth because you’re an autocratic old devil just like Old Angus was before you. People don’t kowtow to you the way they used to and you don’t like it,’ Anne said. She could say things to Angus that other people wouldn’t be game to.
Angus gave her a weak smile. ‘No wonder David is like he is. With you for his mother and Andy for his father, he had to be something worthwhile. You’ve got a damned sharp brain, Anne. I suppose I was autocratic. It was the way I was brought up. Nobody argued with my father.’
There was a moment of silence before Angus spoke again. ‘What’s happening with Glenview? It looks as if young Angus will live at Strath Fillan so he won’t be going there,’ Angus said.
‘It’s been de-stocked and will be supered before David sends stock there. I understand that he intends going through all his sheep and sending the finest up there. As to who is going to look at it, I don’t know. David is running out of managers. Shaun is overdue to retire but has been waiting to see how Angus shaped up. Dougal leaving was a big loss. Angus is very gifted with stock like his father and grandfather, and Sue-Ellen will be the making of him. Angus could solve some of David’s problems. Moira is a darling and adores her father. She has restored David’s faith in children, but he can’t count on her staying with him,’ Anne mused.