by Tony Parsons
It had always been her mother’s wish that she enrol in university – she hadn’t wanted to see her daughter stuck in western Queensland, and certainly not before she’d had the opportunity to sample a different lifestyle. But after her mother’s death, Fiona had been reluctant to leave her father and so postponed her enrolment. In a vague kind of way Fiona had imagined that she would one day marry a grazier and spend the rest of her days on a property. She loved horses and enjoyed working with dogs and stock.
Fiona was suddenly jolted out of her reverie. So that was where her father’s questions were leading. He was thinking that if she married Ian, it would be the perfect solution. She would have a very nice young husband, live in a big homestead on a famous property, and be able to take trips to Britain while living not far from her father whom she would be able to visit quite regularly. Fiona began daydreaming again. It was a lovely idea – imagine the wedding! And they could go anywhere in the world for their honeymoon … The only problem was, she just couldn’t seem to picture Ian Richardson ever sharing her dream.
Chapter Eleven
‘So, what’s he like?’ Rhona Blake asked her mother. She had arrived at Kanimbla only an hour or so earlier, showered, drunk two gin and bitters to get the taste of dust out of her mouth, and was now stretched out on a sofa in the Blakes’ air-conditioned lounge room.
‘Ian is very nice,’ Judy Blake said.
‘Nice? What do you mean by nice?’
‘He’s done some good things since he arrived,’ Judy said.
‘Like what?’
‘Well there’s the swimming pool.’
‘That’s a positive development but hardly a luxury, Mum – I should think that a pool would be a necessity if you want to get people to work for you in this country. What else has he done?’ Rhona asked.
‘I don’t monitor all of Ian’s movements. You can ask your father what he’s done around the property. I’ve heard whispers that he’s interested in pulling Murrawee out of the doldrums. There’s talk of a sheepdog trial. I know he spends a fair bit of time with Leigh Metcalfe,’ Judy said.
‘Well now, no doubt Leigh will extend young Mr Ian’s knowledge in certain areas,’ Rhona laughed.
‘You can get that out of your head. Ian told your father that he’s not the slightest bit interested in girls. Though I suppose he did invite Fiona McDonald over here …’ Judy trailed off.
‘Ha, if it’s not girls, it’ll be boys,’ Rhona said unkindly.
‘You’ve become far too cynical, Rhona. There are some very genuine people in the world and I believe Ian Richardson is one of them,’ Judy said.
‘I suppose it’s easy to be nice when your future holds no money worries,’ Rhona said.
‘Well, you can make up your own mind about Ian. We’re invited down to the homestead for drinks this evening. Ian thought you’d prefer to have a quiet dinner with us on your first night home,’ Judy said.
Judy glanced at her daughter and stifled a sigh. Rhona, nearing thirty, was wearing white shorts and a blue tank top – both very brief. Her dark hair matched her mother’s but her eyes were grey like her father’s. Rhona was so different from her mother. Sometimes Judy wondered what went on in her daughter’s mind. She really had no idea.
‘I’m sure you’d be interested to know that Trish Claydon told Helen Donovan at the store that she reckoned Ian was the cutest fellow she’d ever seen out here.’ Judy resorted to a bit of gossip, which she knew Rhona would like. ‘And I think Fiona McDonald might have her eye on him. Well, she’d be silly not to.’
Rhona’s laughter pealed across the room. ‘Now there’s a contrast in style – Miss Goody Two Shoes and the Wicked Witch of the West! Well, Trish should know – she’s broken in more than one young bloke in this district.’
‘Don’t talk like that, Rhona. Anyway, I think Ian has far too much common sense to allow Trish Claydon anywhere near him,’ Judy said.
‘Is Trish still having it off with Leigh?’
‘I’ve no idea, but if Alec catches them there’ll be big trouble.’
‘I’ll never understand how that marriage survives,’ Rhona remarked.
‘The only reason Alec doesn’t divorce Trish is that he knows he’d lose half his property and half his stock. Leo says Alec would prefer to lose an arm or a leg to losing all that. Alec loves his property and he’s nuts about his sheep. But the word is that Alec has just about reached the end of his tether with Trish, so there could be a big row before long,’ Judy said.
‘Trish has had a good run,’ Rhona said, ‘but she started early.’
‘You only know what people have told you. A lot of it would be exaggerated,’ Judy said.
‘I doubt that anything anyone said about Trish Claydon would either be an exaggeration or do her justice,’ Rhona said.
‘So, you haven’t found a nice man to settle down with and start a family?’ Judy teased.
‘Most men I meet are so dull, Mum. They’re only any good in small doses. And as far as having kids goes, why would you want to bring more kids into a world like this one? The chances of me finding a partner suitable enough to make me want to settle down in this fly-blown part of the world would be a thousand to one against. And what would children do here? They’d just have to be packed off to boarding school … No wonder Trish has affairs. A woman could go off her head here if she didn’t have a bit of excitement. I don’t know how you’ve stuck it all these years.’
‘Rhona!’ Judy cautioned.
‘Well, it must have been bloody awful.’ Rhona made a face.
‘If you love someone and want to share their life, you go where they go and make the best of things. Your father is a good man; one of the best. You know how well thought of he is in the pastoral industry. It takes years to earn that kind of respect. So don’t look down your nose at him because you’ve got degrees and he hasn’t. Leo paid for your education and put you through university. He did his duty as your father even though you made his life quite difficult at times. Please don’t argue with him and make your stay unpleasant,’ Judy pleaded.
‘You know I’d never do that,’ Rhona said mildly. ‘So is Dragon Lady back at the homestead? And what does she think of Ian?’
‘I think you should ask her yourself. But I wouldn’t wear those shorts to the homestead, Rhona.’ Judy sounded a little anxious.
‘Oh, I wasn’t planning to, Mum.’
When Leo returned, Rhona was dressed in a red skirt and a tailored white shirt.
‘Hi, Dad,’ she said breezily and gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek.
‘Hello, stranger. You look a million dollars.’
‘Thanks. How’s the ankle now?’
‘It’s okay. Almost forgotten. Have a good trip?’
‘Tiring. Thank God for air-conditioning. How are you coping with the new chief?’ Rhona asked.
‘He’s young and inexperienced, but he’s a bright bloke.’ Leo turned to Judy, ‘I’ll have a shower now. It’s six-thirty, isn’t it?’
‘Casual. No tie,’ Judy said.
‘Good. Are we taking anything? Leo asked.
‘Only ourselves, dear. Glenda would be insulted. It’s a “welcome back” drink for Rhona,’ Judy said.
‘Dad sounds cheery,’ Rhona observed after Leo had left the lounge room.
‘He’s been a different man since Ian arrived. It’s almost like he’s acquired a son and he’s showing him how to take over the place. I just hope he won’t be too disappointed if Ian leaves,’ Judy said.
‘You think he’ll go back to England?’ Rhona asked.
‘Perhaps. His parents went to Cambridge and Ian has spoken of it rather feelingly on more than one occasion,’ Judy said.
‘Interesting …’ Rhona mused.
Ian was on the front verandah waiting to greet the Blakes when they arrived. In his grey trousers and blue shirt he appeared impossibly young to be the owner of Kanimbla.
‘Rhona, how nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about
you,’ Ian said as they shook hands.
‘I hate to think what!’ Rhona was momentarily taken aback by his good looks. ‘I know I’m a big disappointment to my long-suffering parents.’
‘Hardly a disappointment from what I’ve heard. A BA with honours and a PhD,’ Ian said and laughed. Rhona laughed too, but rather dryly.
‘My academic achievements don’t rate very highly in comparison with my sister’s three children,’ she murmured as she stood aside so Ian could greet her parents.
They stayed on the verandah, where they took their drinks from a traymobile and sat down in comfortable chairs not far from the pool. ‘We should be having a pool party. It’s hot enough for it,’ she said in her uninhibited way.
‘If it stays hot, we can have a party before you go back,’ Ian said, unfazed. ‘But feel free to use the pool any time you like while you’re here.’
‘Thank you. It was a good move deciding to put in a pool for the staff,’ she said.
‘Yes. I reckon they’ll need it,’ Ian said, before turning his attention to Leo. ‘How do things look in the back paddocks, Mr Blake?’
‘The feed is drying off, but there’s plenty of it. I think we should get some of those steers away while prices are good. I doubt they’ll get any better,’ Leo said.
‘If you think so,’ Ian said.
Rhona looked at Ian and wondered what on Earth she was supposed to call him. He had called her Rhona but her father Mr Blake.
‘Can I call you Ian?’ she asked.
‘I’ll be unhappy if you don’t,’ he said.
Rhona smiled, ‘So how are you finding things here?’
‘Without the twelve months jackarooing at Warren I would have found Kanimbla a shock. It’s the size of the place that’s hard to take in. But we’re getting there, aren’t we, Mr Blake?’
‘We’re getting there,’ Leo agreed.
‘Now that I’m relatively settled, there are a couple of projects I’d like to examine more closely. I don’t want to give the impression that I’m a new broom – and a green one at that – who’s going to make a lot of changes. But coming here from Britain there are some things I find very strange. There doesn’t seem to be much happening in Murrawee township and I’d like to do something to change that,’ Ian said.
‘Ooh, you’ll cop some flak. Anyone who tries to rock the boat here gets plenty of criticism,’ Rhona said. ‘You need to live in Queensland half a lifetime before you’re regarded as a local, if you ever are. I mean, there’s native-born Queenslanders and then there’s the “Mexican” imports. Anyone who lives south of the border is regarded as a Mexican, though I doubt that Poms rate any lower than Victorians. Mind you, there are some cracks in the wall of bigotry seeing that Brisbane has a great Australian Rules team with a big supporters base.’
‘We’ll see about the flak. I want to at least give it a try. What was it that old Labor man said in Fame is the Spur? “The shame is not in failing but in never trying,” or words to that effect?’ Ian said. He was sure Rhona would have read Spring’s book and was just about to ask her opinion when she beat him to it.
‘What did you think of the book?’
Ian took a moment to form his answer. ‘I liked the way it tries to show how people can be changed by circumstances – for instance, by good fortune or money – while other people remain true to their original beliefs. I don’t know much about Australian politics, but it seems to me there are examples of both in Australian political history,’ Ian continued. ‘Being prime minister never changed Ben Chifley. He always remained a quintessential Labor man, an Australian counterpart to Spring’s Arnold Ryerson.’
Rhona nodded her agreement. ‘That’s a very interesting answer from a new Aussie – and a Pommy into the bargain,’ she added.
‘I’m not a Pommy, Rhona. If I’m anything, I’m an Australian who was educated in England,’ Ian said.
It was a mild rebuke, but it slid past Rhona like water off a duck’s back. She tried a new approach. ‘I believe you’ve been seeing a fair bit of our Writer in Residence,’ she said. Ian had noticed that she preferred to make up nicknames rather than use people’s real names. He thought her sardonic humour seemed out of keeping with her looks.
‘I doubt Leigh would give a moment’s thought to how others described him. He writes for his own enjoyment, not for praise or acclaim,’ Ian said. It was the second rebuke he had handed out to Rhona in his disarming way, and again she hardly seemed to notice.
‘Leigh is a poet as well as a writer. Have you read any of his poetry?’ she asked.
Ian looked at her and smiled. He knew Rhona was testing him. ‘I haven’t read enough of Leigh’s poetry to venture an opinion. He gave me a few of his early poems, which were mostly written in a conventional, rhyming style. I haven’t read much of his later free-verse stuff. But I do love the way he describes this country. “Oven-hot the sun beats down, / Through silver leaves of silver trees … ” He’s been very helpful to me. We’ve been playing some mind games and I think my writing is improving a little,’ Ian said. He was, as usual, modestly implying that he couldn’t write very well at all. It wouldn’t have occurred to him to tell her about his achievements at Harrow.
‘What kind of mind games?’ Rhona asked with genuine interest.
‘Well, he might ask me to look at something – say a tree or a dingo caught in a trap – and then he’ll get me to write two or three sentences. I must record what I see as if I will never see it again. It’s sharpened my senses and brought greater vitality to my writing. Like tearing down a great curtain and finding a new world behind it.’
Rhona looked at this young man with sudden compassion. What a waste, she thought. As much as she had disliked Jack Richardson and the snobby squattocracy in general, she felt drawn to Ian, although she could not yet put her finger on exactly why. She couldn’t judge whether he was just an earnest young man bursting to find his creative self or whether it was something more than that.
‘How did you feel about coming to Australia to jackaroo?’ Rhona asked.
‘I wasn’t happy about it at first. I’d had my heart set on going to Cambridge.’
‘Surely you won’t stay here?’ Rhona said, oblivious to her father’s frown and the shuffling of her mother’s feet.
‘It’s early days yet and I’m still feeling my way, Rhona.’
‘So what have you got in mind?’ Rhona persisted.
‘It’s premature to discuss that right now,’ Ian said.
‘Isn’t that a cop-out?’
‘Not at all.’ Ian wasn’t going to allow Rhona to push him into a corner. Instead, he redirected the conversation towards her parents. And when he did finally bring the discussion back to her, it was to ask if she would have the time to go over the current computer programs with him and perhaps, in association with Jim Landers and himself, install a new program for the merino stud.
‘Of course, we’ll pay you for your time and expertise,’ he said.
‘That won’t be necessary. I’ll be pleased to do it,’ Rhona said. ‘Besides, I wouldn’t want anyone else mucking around with my programming.’ She looked forward to working on a project with Ian – especially a project where she was in charge. ‘Would Thursday morning suit you? I’m busy tomorrow.’
‘That would be great, thanks,’ Ian replied. ‘Now, if you’d like to stay, Mrs Heatley has offered to prepare a cold dinner.’
Judy wasn’t happy about making extra work for Mrs Heatley, but Rhona wanted to stay – so they did. In twenty minutes they all had plates of salad with cold beef and ham and two bottles of chilled white wine.
‘Yummy,’ Rhona exclaimed, with her eye on the bottles, ‘a Stanthorpe white. I’d love to try some.’ Rhona seemed to have a good knowledge of grape varieties and who made the best wines. Conversely, Leo had no interest in wine and seldom touched it, preferring whisky or beer. Ian poured glasses for Judy and Rhona.
‘Mmm, it’s not a bad drop,’ Rhona pronounced, first sniffing an
d then sampling the wine before sinking comfortably into her chair.
Three glasses of chardonnay and a great deal of chatter later, Rhona got up from her chair. ‘Crikey, it’s so hot. All we need for a perfect evening is a dip in the pool!’
‘But you didn’t bring any bathers, Rhona,’ Judy cautioned.
‘Don’t need any, Mum,’ Rhona giggled.
‘Don’t be silly,’ Leo growled. He hadn’t said much since dinner because Rhona had commandeered the conversation.
‘If Rhona wants to have a dip, that’s all right. I’ll help Mrs Heatley with the washing up,’ Ian smiled. And before anything further could be said, he’d disappeared into the kitchen.
While Ian and a disgruntled Mrs Heatley washed up (‘That Rhona – she never comes here but there’s trouble’), and Leo and Judy sat on the verandah in embarrassment, Rhona had her swim in her knickers and bra. After Mrs Heatley had taken her a towel and served them all tea and coffee, Leo told Rhona it was time to leave.
As they said goodbye, Rhona gave Ian a lusty kiss on the lips. ‘Lovely evening, Mr Ian,’ she said and laughed.
‘I’m pleased you think so,’ Ian said, momentarily taken aback, though he recovered quickly. He winked across at Leo, who nodded and walked to the car.
‘Thank you, Ian,’ Judy said and kissed him on the cheek. Ian could sense her mixture of gratitude and embarrassment.
‘It was nothing, Mrs Blake. I enjoyed your company. Actually, would you consider being my hostess for the reception?’
Judy was both flattered and flustered. ‘Me? Why me?’
‘Because you would be the perfect choice.’
Despite the awkwardness of the evening, Judy went back to their bungalow feeling on top of the world. Being asked to host such a big function was a huge compliment. She wasn’t aware that Ian had already discussed the matter with her husband, who had said that Judy would probably be over the moon about being asked. In fact, Leo was just as pleased as his wife. Of course it would mean a swish new dress for Judy, but that was a small price to pay for something that would give her so much pleasure.