by Tony Parsons
‘I believe surprised would be an understatement. I doubt that anyone really understands how much work I’ve got in front of me, you excluded,’ Ian said. ‘Jim will be taking over when Leo retires.’
‘At least Jim Landers knows his way around a computer and is a good sheepman. Yeah, I reckon Jim might be all right,’ Leigh conceded.
‘I’ll try and get back here once a year if I can,’ Ian said.
‘I suppose you’ll end up a blooming Florey and win a Nobel prize,’ Leigh joked.
‘That’s the last thing on my mind right now. I just want to get through so that I can make it into a top research establishment,’ Ian said.
‘Well, I’ll miss you. I never thought I’d say that about another bloke. What you’ve got going in Murrawee is bloody amazing. If I was wearing a hat I’d take it off to you, Ian,’ Leigh smiled broadly. ‘Feel like a drink o’ tea? And I made a fresh damper this morning. How about a bit of that and some cockie’s joy?’
‘Why not. It might be the last I’ll have for a very long time.’
‘You should take a camp oven back with you and show your Pommy mates how to bake a damper. Probably go over well.’
‘Yes, it probably would,’ Ian agreed, taking a piece and biting into it.
‘Could be a good sideline for you … importing camp ovens, I mean. Ah, well, Australia’s loss is England’s gain,’ Leigh said.
‘I’ll be having a small function. It’s a farewell for the Blakes, mainly, and for me, I suppose. I’d like you to come if you could see your way clear to join us,’ Ian said.
‘I’ll have a think about it. They’re decent enough people but they’re all dead from the neck up. The only Shelley they’ve ever heard of is the one under the table there,’ Leigh said.
‘It’s up to you. So will you stay on here?’ Ian asked.
‘You mean forever? God knows. I like it here and I probably wouldn’t find anywhere better. Is the damper okay?’
‘Terrific,’ Ian acknowledged. ‘Actually, there’s another piece of news that will interest you.’
‘Don’t tell me you got Fiona McDonald in the sack with you.’
‘No, Leigh. Sorry to disappoint you. Rhona Blake has gone to England too,’ Ian said.
‘She’s what?’ Leigh asked quickly.
‘Rhona’s thinking of studying at Cambridge. She came to see me in a bit of a mess. Her last boyfriend left her after she’d loaned him a great deal of money. She told me she needed a change.’
‘Well, I’ll be blowed. You and Rhona haven’t been playing up, have you?’
‘You sound like a cracked record, Leigh,’ said Ian with genuine annoyance. ‘Just because I help a woman doesn’t mean I’m sleeping with her. She’s Mr Blake’s daughter and she needs a hand. I’ll help her with a place to stay, but the rest will be up to her.’
‘A bit touchy today, aren’t we?’ Leigh smiled.
Ian sighed, ‘I guess it hasn’t been an easy decision to leave.’
‘I’m sure it hasn’t, and I’m sorry to have made light of it before. How has Fiona taken it?’ said Leigh.
Ian looked at Leigh with surprise. Despite his friend’s claim to preferring his own company, he was remarkably astute about other people. He’d known from the day Fiona visited Top River with Ian that there was something special between the two of them, and that Fiona was not the kind of girl to give up easily.
‘She hasn’t taken it too well. But Fiona is a friend, Leigh. That’s all she is. And I’ve never led her to believe otherwise.’
‘Never?’
‘We kissed once, early on, but I felt it wasn’t right, especially as I wasn’t sure I was going to stay,’ Ian said.
‘Well I hope you don’t regret not making her more than a friend,’ Leigh said.
‘I’ll have to take it on the chin,’ Ian said. ‘In the meantime I just want you to know how much I’ve enjoyed our friendship and that I’ll think about you, and Shelley, and this place quite a lot when I’m back in England.’
‘Especially when you’ve got snow everywhere and a wind that would freeze your balls,’ Leigh laughed.
‘Especially then,’ Ian agreed.
‘I’ll expect great things of you,’ the writer said.
Ian scribbled down his English address on a page of his small notebook, tore it out and handed it to Leigh. ‘I hope you’ll send me anything you have published. The best of luck with Thunderbolt,’ he said.
‘Thanks. We’ll be talking again before you leave?’
‘Of course.’
They walked out to Ian’s utility and shook hands. ‘Be seeing you,’ said Leigh as Ian started the engine. He watched as the ute disappeared out of sight, the sound of its engine growing fainter and fainter until Leigh could hear only the screeching of the white cockatoos in the river gums. He shook his head and went back to the litter on his table.
Chapter Thirty-three
Ian was very pleased that he had entrusted Gerald and Ted with specific fact-finding missions. They had both done a very good job collecting the information that was needed to set Kanimbla on its new path, and showed a lot of enthusiasm for their new roles. Consequently Ian had been able to formulate, in best marketing fashion, five- and ten-year plans for the property. A few weeks before he was due to leave, he called his core staff together for a final strategy meeting. Leo Blake was there, as were Jim Landers and the jackaroos.
‘As you may have heard, Mr Blake will be retiring soon and Jim Landers will become manager. Fortunately we won’t be saying goodbye to Mr Blake for good, as he’s agreed to act as my pastoral adviser for the next three years and will be coming back here two or three times a year.
‘Nothing I can say would be adequate to convey my appreciation for the job Mr Blake has done at Kanimbla. We’ll be having a send-off for Mr and Mrs Blake and I’ll say more on that occasion.
‘As for Kanimbla’s future, my aim is obviously to keep the operation viable. The merino stud will be retained, albeit a smaller version. There will be an even bigger commitment to quality and Kanimbla sheep will be widely shown. Only when we’ve won the Stonehaven Cup will I admit that we’ve made some progress in that area,’ Ian said with a smile.
‘We’ll be making a big push towards developing sheep that can be shorn every eight months giving us three shearings in two years. This is a factor we’ll be promoting for our rams and a reason for woolgrowers to stay with merinos. And, if all goes according to plan, I’m hoping we can stage an annual on-property sheep sale.
‘We’ll be classing off a line of merino ewes to mate with Dohne rams and the ewe portion of this first cross drop will be mated to prime lamb sires. We’ll also be looking to lot feed a line of wether lambs. I’ve got a couple of Brisbane butchers interested so we’ll give it a go. This will entail us erecting a couple of big shelter sheds with feed and water troughs. As you know, Norm’s son is interested in running the old butcher’s shop. We could put our own lambs and beef through the shop. Maybe install a small feedlot here for steers and advertise grain-fed beef.
‘There’ll also be an accelerated farming program to grow oats, lucerne, corn and forage sorghum and we’ll be taking up all the water we’re allowed. We’ll also be laying down a lot of silage, principally for the stud cows.
‘The last announcement I’ll make today is that I’ll be leaving Kanimbla to return to Britain shortly before Mr and Mrs Blake depart.’ He could see that this had stunned the three younger men because Leo and Jim had not thought it their place to inform them yet.
Although there had been rumours in Ian’s early days that he might return to Britain, as time passed they had come to believe that he was going to stay. This view was reinforced when their boss began his push to do something for Murrawee. Then there had been Ian’s close friendship with the beautiful Fiona McDonald. It didn’t make sense.
‘You mean for good?’ Gerald Bradshaw exclaimed.
‘I’ll be coming back from time to time. Hopefully, once a year,’ I
an said.
‘But we all thought you’d be staying,’ Gerald said.
‘Life is a matter of priorities, Gerald. There are things I need to do and Britain is where I want to do them. Kanimbla will be in good hands, and Mr Blake and Jim will keep me informed about everything. You’ve got some interesting projects and you don’t need me here to do them.’
‘Can you tell us what you’re going to do?’ Ted Beecham asked.
‘Medicine, Ted.’
‘You mean to be a doctor?’
‘Not the kind of doctor you’re thinking of. Ultimately I’ll be aiming to do research work,’ Ian replied.
‘That’ll involve a lot of study, won’t it?’ Ted asked.
‘A huge amount. I’ve only done the equivalent of three years of one course, and there are at least six more years to go. That’s why I can’t have any distractions,’ Ian said.
Jim Landers came to Ian’s rescue. ‘Well, we wish you well, Ian. Karen and I are very thankful for all that you’ve done for us and Billy. I think I can speak for the whole team and say that we’ll miss you.’
Every man present realised that Kanimbla would not be the same without Ian. He had breathed life into the place. The great homestead, temporarily enlivened by Ian’s presence, would be empty again and who could say when a Richardson would return to it.
A week later and not many days before Ian Richardson was due to leave Kanimbla, Leigh Metcalfe came back from checking his getter-guns to find an envelope marked ‘Leigh’ on his table. He picked it up and ripped it open. There were two sheets of paper. One was a copy of a letter to Ian Richardson’s legal firm authorising them to take steps to excise forty hectares, with house thereon, from the Top River section of Kanimbla Station, and to transfer the said forty hectares to the ownership of Leigh Metcalfe.
The second sheet contained a brief note.
Dear Leigh
I hope the enclosed instructions to my lawyers will convince you to stay where you are. I can’t imagine anyone else taking your place. It’s perfect for you and Shelley.
Very best wishes
Ian Richardson
Leigh held the two sheets of paper in his hand and looked eastwards towards Kanimbla and the road Ian would be travelling.
‘That son of a gun has made me a bloody landowner, Shelley!’ he shouted.
Chapter Thirty-four
The send-off was really for Leo and Judy Blake, though everyone knew that Ian Richardson would actually be leaving for Britain a week before them. It was held in the shearers’ quarters and there was food and drink galore – big juicy steaks, chops, sausages, onions and salad and a keg of beer. And Leigh Metcalfe came too – he figured it was the least he could do given Ian’s generous gift.
After everyone had finished eating, Ian Richardson asked them to be quiet because he had something to say. ‘As you all know,’ he began, ‘Mr and Mrs Blake are leaving here after twenty-five years. It gives me great pleasure to present this cheque in recognition of their long service. I know you’ll all join with me in wishing them a long and happy retirement,’ Ian paused until the noise of cheering and clinking glasses subsided.
‘We pondered long and hard about what to give you as a farewell present and finally decided on something you’ll be sure to find useful,’ Ian continued, and on cue, Peter, Ted and Gerald pushed a spanking new tinny and outboard from around the back of the quarters.
‘Speech, speech,’ the three young blokes chanted.
Leo was overcome with emotion. ‘I don’t know what to say. I’m not a great one for speeches.’ Leo paused to regain his composure. ‘Ian, I just want to say that Judy and I would never have stayed as long as we did if you hadn’t come to Kanimbla. It’s been a real pleasure working with you, even though you’ve spent a lot of your time looking down a microscope!’ This comment induced a burst of laughter. ‘I’d like to thank all my loyal staff for their dedication and hard work. Their input makes a job like mine a shoe-in.’
‘Thank you, Mr Blake. I’m not here to steal your thunder. This is your night. Three cheers for Leo! Hip hip …’
‘Hang on, hang on!’ Leigh Metcalfe stood on a chair and interrupted Ian.
‘Look, I know this is Leo’s night, but I’ve got something to say and I’m going to borrow it from The Scarlet Pimpernel.’
‘Who?’ Jack Greer muttered to nobody in particular.
‘They seek him here, they seek him there,
Those westerners seek him everywhere.
Is he in Oz with the heat and the flies?
Or back in the Old Dart scoffing pork pies?
Half Pommy, half Aussie, he burns in the sun,
That damned elusive Richardson!’
Loud cheering and clapping erupted from the group. Leigh got down from the chair and walked over to Ian, ‘Thanks for the house and land,’ he said quietly. ‘That’s a mighty big gift and I can’t see that I’m worth it.’
‘It’s not all that much in the overall scheme of things. You’ve been a big help to me, Leigh. I’ll sleep a lot easier knowing you and Shelley are at Top River,’ Ian said.
Later, after several beers, and much laughing and joking, Leo took Ian aside.
‘I got a phone call from Rhona today,’ said Leo.
‘How is she?’ asked Ian.
‘Well, she’s settled in well – she’s very happy,’ Leo smiled. ‘Of course, Judy’s a bit upset that she didn’t get a proper send-off, but you know Rhona. She just took off when she felt the urge.’
‘Well that’s brilliant news, Leo,’ said Ian.
‘I thought you might have heard from her by now yourself,’ suggested Leo.
‘I’m sure I will in time,’ said Ian. ‘I’d given her all the contact information so there was no need for her to make any formal arrangements with me.’
Leo patted Ian heartily on the back, ‘Looks like we need another keg,’ he said as he wandered off.
Needless to say the party went on for a long time and there were some sore heads next morning.
If Ian had imagined he would be able to slip away with only a Kanimbla staff do, he was very much mistaken – the people of Murrawee had organised a party the likes of which had never before been seen in the district. Of course, Helen Donovan had been at the helm of the organising committee, and with the help of Mrs Heatley, Judy, Trish, Karen and a few other faithfuls, had managed to keep it a complete surprise. Her only disappointment was that she could not convince Fiona to come. Fiona had claimed she was ill, but Helen knew that this was probably a ruse.
It had been hoped to hold the send-off at the bird park but the amenities were inadequate for such a gathering, so it was transferred to the oval. Hundreds turned up and the motel was fully occupied for the first time.
Ian seemed overwhelmed by the tributes paid to him. He was even more overwhelmed when he was presented with a top-notch microscope (Leigh Metcalfe’s idea) even grander than his own.
When Ian stood in front of the crowd to thank them, there was absolute silence on the oval.
‘Thanks to each and every one of you for this night. I’ve made some wonderful friends here and am leaving part of my heart in this district. There’s a saying that every person marches to the beat of a different drum. I believe that my destiny lies in science. I hope that doesn’t sound pompous or pretentious. It’s just something I feel very strongly about – so strongly that it pulls me away from this life at Kanimbla.
‘The gift couldn’t be more appropriate; thank you. I didn’t expect it or this night, and I’m touched to the point of embarrassment that you’ve made so much of what I’ve done.
‘The most amazing thing of all is that you dinky-di Australians should do this for a half-baked Aussie, though, to my credit, I did have an Australian mother. This, I understand, bestows on one the right to play cricket for Australia or England!’
There was laughter and cheering.
‘Thank you again for this night. I’ll never forget it.’
That night
was the first in Ian’s life in which he really let loose. He even drank enough to dance with Judy Blake and Helen Donovan, but despite all the rowdy merriment and fun, despite all the declarations of friendship and promises to catch up in the future, he felt a kind of emptiness, as if there was something, or rather someone, missing.
The next morning broke clear, warm and cloudless. The birds were singing in the garden and in the trees above the river as Ian sat with Mrs Heatley.
‘I’ll miss sitting here and hearing so many bird calls,’ Ian said.
‘Do you have to go, Mr Ian?’ Mrs Heatley asked.
Ian nodded and wondered again how he could explain why he had to leave. ‘Yes, I have to go, Mrs H,’ he said gently.
‘I don’t understand why. You’ve got so much to keep you here. The men think you’re great, and the new things you’ve initiated will guarantee them their jobs for some time at least. And there’s a certain young woman not far away who thinks you’re wonderful. I realise it’s not my place to question your decisions, but I must say that I think it very strange that you should want to leave. I must also say that I’ll miss you very much, Mr Ian,’ Mrs Heatley said.
‘I shall miss you, too, Mrs Heatley. You’ve set me on the right path about a lot of things.’
‘If you don’t mind me saying, Fiona seems very upset about you leaving,’ Mrs Heatley said. ‘We all tried to get her to come to the party, but she said she couldn’t bear it.’
Ian hesitated before answering. ‘I am sorry about that, but really, there’s never been anything between us except friendship. I’m sure Fiona will find contentment and happiness. Nelanji will be hers some day, and she’ll find a nice young man whose heart is with the land.’
‘If you don’t mind me saying, Fiona has always thought you were that young man, Mr Ian.’
Ian looked away. First Judy, then Leigh and now Mrs H. How many more people were going to give him a hard time about Fiona? With so many people questioning his decision, he began to wonder if he had been really honest with himself. Had he really avoided a relationship with Fiona because he was afraid of letting her down? Or was he afraid of something else?