The Valley

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The Valley Page 39

by Di Morrissey


  ‘We had a talk. Seems Mardi his instructor has covered that. Competing is the way to improve your riding skills,’ said Lara. ‘They went off together early this morning for a run through.’

  ‘Never thought I’d see the day,’ said Dani. ‘This is more nerve wracking than soccer.’

  Lara stopped the car in the roped-off parking area, where a man in a white coat with a badge on his hat directed them with a big smile. ‘Main entrance to your right, ladies, enjoy the show.’

  ‘Heavens, where to start?’ said Lara.

  ‘The livestock pavilions . . . and down there the agriculture section . . . Let’s look at the animals before we find Tim,’ said Dani.

  They passed a children’s farmyard with big fluffy rabbits, baby lambs, fat pink spotless piglets and baby ducks all being cuddled and petted by children under the watchful eyes of two attendants. Next door was a pen of prize goats, their silky coats brushed and shining.

  ‘I’ve always wanted a goat. Maybe I could get some at The Vale,’ said Dani. ‘Keep the grass down.’

  ‘They eat the flowers and vegies too. And they’re very smart. Too much trouble, I think,’ said Lara. ‘Jolly would go bananas.’

  ‘I’ll keep getting the goats’ cheese from that little cheese factory in town then,’ laughed Dani.

  They wandered through the breezy open-sided sheds where the prize cows were being groomed, their huge udders near bursting. Several youngsters were leading their calves or sheep from beribboned stalls and massive docile bulls stood stoically as though they’d been here, done that a dozen times before.

  ‘There’s a boy from Tim’s class with that little heifer. I hope Tim doesn’t decide he wants one,’ said Dani.

  ‘I lay odds he’ll want some sort of animal before the day is over,’ said Lara.

  As they wandered around, they smiled and nodded at people they recognised from shops, the bank, the post office, and the library, all transformed in smart country outfits either as a competitor, entrant with a prize animal, or working in some capacity. Others wore dustcoats and large badges and passes on a ribbon round their neck signifying they were judges or officials.

  ‘Morning, ladies. Come to cheer on the lad?’ Henry Catchpole approached dressed in moleskin pants, a checked shirt, woollen tie and tweed jacket. He swept off his Akubra hat. ‘Glad you came along, this show is a great tradition. Goes back to the early days of the valley.’

  ‘It’s amazing. We might not have come if Tim wasn’t in the gymkhana,’ said Lara.

  ‘What should we see? Are you doing anything official?’ asked Dani.

  ‘See everything. This is on for the whole weekend. Rodeo Saturday night is not to be missed. I’m judging a few cattle entries and doing an auction. I wouldn’t miss it. First came to the show with my prize black Australorp when I was eight. Have a look at the poultry, you’ll be surprised.’

  ‘Is Patricia here?’ asked Lara.

  ‘She is. Presenting a prize and yakking to people, keeping the mayor in line. The usual. We’re set up under that big tree over there, there’s a few chairs and refreshments on the go. Pop over any time.’

  ‘Thanks, Henry.’ And as they moved away, Dani said, ‘It’s like a small version of the Royal Easter Show, polo match, country fair, and farmers market all in one.’

  ‘But a lot more friendly and a lot more fun, I think,’ said Lara.

  ‘There’s the riding arena, let’s find Tim. He came here right after breakfast.’ Dani looked at the horses and riders dressed immaculately in their riding jackets and hats, polished boots, regulation tie shirts and jodhpurs. ‘Look at those girls, they look about four!’

  They watched the little girls on their ponies step through their paces and edged around the back of the ring to find Tim brushing Blackie, his pony.

  ‘Hey Mum! Ma! What do you think? Doesn’t he look good.’ He smoothed the pony’s plaited mane.

  ‘You look pretty good yourself,’ said Dani, giving him a hug.

  ‘Did Mardi help you get ready?’ asked Lara, pleased to see him so nattily and neatly dressed.

  ‘It’s how you have to dress or you lose points,’ said Tim. ‘I’m not going on for a bit, but you’re going to watch, right?’

  ‘You bet, and good luck, darling, just do your best.’

  ‘It’s my first time,’ he mumbled.

  ‘And it won’t be your last. You’ll love it, sweetie,’ said Lara. ‘Do you want to look around with us, Tim, before you go in the ring? There’s so much to see.’

  ‘Sure. I have ages yet.’

  They went into the long shadowy poultry pavilion with rows and rows of clean small boxes where preened and cleaned fowls of all description strutted and posed for the parade of judges.

  ‘They seem to take it very seriously,’ whispered Lara, watching the judges confer, make notes, and lift out the prize specimens to give them a swift and thorough examination.

  ‘I’ve never seen hens like them,’ said Dani, peering to read a sign beneath a puffed ball of white feathers. ‘White Pekin Pullet’. And this rare breed: ‘Silver Campine’. That looks like a rubber chook, it’s got no feathers!’

  ‘Can I stroke it?’ Tim asked a judge holding a black and white strong-legged bird with feathers round its feet and beautiful barred silver markings on its wings. ‘Wow, are they are hard to look after?’

  ‘They need a bit of attention, depends if you’re going to show them or not. You go and talk to old Mr Perkins down there in the red tie. He knows everything there is to know about breeding show birds.’

  ‘Can I, Mum?’

  ‘What, breed chooks? You talk to Mr Perkins first though. I think you have enough on your plate, Tim,’ answered Dani as Lara grinned at her. ‘Let’s go next door to the agriculture pavilion.’

  As Tim shot off Lara shook her head. ‘You know who’ll be looking after those show chooks, don’t you?’

  Dani laughed. ‘I don’t think so. I’m happy with the couple scratching around in the backyard giving us eggs for breakfast. Thankfully we haven’t had a visit from a fox yet.’

  In the long airy agriculture pavilion they found rows of laden trestle tables and displays of flowers, pickles, jams, vegetables, handiwork and elaborately decorated cakes.

  ‘My God, look at this stuff. Is it real?’ exclaimed Lara. ‘Those pumpkins are as big as an armchair,’ she said. ‘Sit on one and I’ll take a photo.’

  ‘Let me take one of the two of you,’ said Patricia Catchpole, looking very official in a flowered suit, with a large badge on her lapel. ‘Have you seen the preserves? They’re works of art.’

  ‘They certainly are,’ said Dani who’d noticed the rows of big glass jars filled with carefully and artistically arranged chillies and fruit and pickled vegetables. ‘Can you buy any of this produce? I love the roses and orchids.’

  They were walking along the rows admiring the crochet work, embroidery, macramé, and painted ceramics when Tim found them.

  ‘Hi, Mrs Catchpole. Can we buy one of those cakes?’

  ‘Some people won’t part with their entries but when everyone is packing up at the end of the show you might pick up a bargain, Tim,’ said Patricia. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you in the ring. All your pals are here to cheer you on.’

  ‘Where? Who’s here?’ asked Tim.

  ‘Max and Sarah and their kids, and all the group from Chesterfield. The kids are on the merry-go-round. I tell you, that thing has come out every year since before Henry was a youngster. And that’s going back.’

  ‘I’ll just go and see them,’ said Tim.

  ‘Don’t get messed up,’ called Dani.

  ‘So is this a fundraiser for the community? There are a lot of out-of-towners,’ commented Lara.

  ‘The committee choose a charity every year or so. This year it’s to benefit the Cedartown Hospital. They want a cardiac treatment room, save patients being rushed over to Hungerford. Now, I have a few duties to perform. Come and have a drink with us at lunchtime. U
nder the cedar tree.’

  They bought mugs of tea and a butterfly cake filled with fresh cream and wandered over to greet Helen and Barney, and Max and Sarah who were watching all the kids spinning around on the old steam-driven merry-go-round that was a centrepiece at fairs and shows.

  ‘That music brings back memories. I only went on it once that I remember,’ sighed Lara. ‘Poppy told me how it had been rescued and restored. I just love that rinky-dink organ music.’

  ‘Isn’t this divine!’ George and Claude joined them.

  ‘This is fun, I’ve never seen such food, ‘said Claude.

  ‘These country women know a thing or two about presentation.’

  As the merry-go-round came to a halt, George grinned at Tim. ‘Come on, Tim, hop on one of the ponies, you’re dressed for it!’

  ‘You know you’re dying to have a go,’ laughed Claude to George.

  Tim hesitated, but seeing Toby, Len and Tabatha were all on it, he ran to grab a colourful horse with flowing silver mane and a carved gold-painted pole. Dani took a photo.

  ‘Want to join me in the flying swan?’ Jason was walking towards them.

  Lara took the camera from Dani. ‘Oh, do get on it. It’s nearly full, I’ll go next turn.’

  Dani began to protest but somehow Jason propelled her towards the double seat on the back of a swan with outstretched wings.

  ‘It’s a Cedartown tradition,’ he said. ‘My favourite was always the Indian elephant, but George has got that one.’

  The attendant blew a whistle and the organ wound up and began playing as the beautiful creatures suspended around its mirrored, kaleidoscopic centre began to rise and fall.

  ‘So you have memories of growing up here too?’ said Dani. ‘I thought you were a city kid.’

  ‘We used to come back sometimes when I was very young, even though we lived in Sydney and I went to school there. I must have been your Tim’s age when I last did this.’

  Dani glanced back at Tim, her city kid, dressed in his riding habit, face flushed with laughter with his friends as they whipped on their painted charges. Would he remember this and return with his children? Would he consider Cedartown part of his heritage, the place his roots sprang from?

  The music was loud, drowning chit chat, and Dani closed her eyes as the merry-go-round spun and the swan dipped and gently dived. The laughter and squeals around her seemed to come from a long way away. She imagined her mother as a little girl riding this merry-go-round. Had her father come to the show too? Dani understood better now her mother’s urge to find out more of her family story. What had happened to her father’s side? She was becoming aware of her mother’s upbringing and how her grandparents’ lives continued to influence them. And above all the strength of connection to this valley where they had all lived.

  Dani opened her eyes to find Tim tugging at her sleeve. ‘Do you feel sick, Mum?’

  ‘Ah, no, I must have been dreaming. That was fun, wasn’t it?’ She stood up, her legs feeling a bit shaky. Jason was chatting to George and Claude.

  ‘I have to go over to the stalls to go in the parade. You coming, Mum?’

  ‘You bet.’

  They all trailed behind Tim as he raced to the stalls and they made their way to the show ring.

  ‘Ooh, look, there’s Carter,’ said Lara. ‘What’s he doing?’

  ‘He’s got an information booth about the National Parks and Wildlife stuff,’ said Barney. ‘He’s got birds and snakes and plants and spiders to show people. He’s such a good entertainer, spins a great yarn.’

  ‘I’ll just go and say hello, tell him we’ll stop by after Tim’s event,’ said Lara.

  Dani and Helen exchanged a grin as Carter spotted Lara and gave a wave over the heads of the crowd around his booth.

  Perched along the wooden benches on the grassy knoll Dani watched Tim’s group line up waiting for the judge to call the first one out. Tim sat straight, if stiffly, in the saddle, one of three boys among six girls.

  ‘I’m so nervous for him,’ whispered Dani.

  ‘There’s Mardi, his instructor,’ said Lara. ‘She seems very good. Just think he’d never been on a horse till a few months ago.’

  ‘And there’s Kerry. What’s she doing there?’ wondered Dani, as she spotted the slight figure and wild curls of her neighbour.

  ‘She’s very into the horse scene. Used to be a show jumper herself before her accident,’ said Helen.

  ‘Oh, don’t mention the word,’ said Lara. ‘Look there’s the first round.’

  They watched each competitor bow to the judge, then go through the set course, from walking to sitting trot to rising trot at the designated spot, completing the circles and diagonals they’d memorised and practised. The judges marked each competitor on how well they handled their horse, how comfortable they were and how well they held their riding position in the saddle, and how the horse responded to their commands.

  Tim’s round went well, though he lost a few points for beginning his rising trot a little too late and allowing his horse to drift slightly from the arena track. But he earned a round of applause and when he slid from the horse at the gate, Dani was surprised to see Jason there to take the reins and slap him on the back. Mardi joined them and spoke to Tim, smiled and patted his shoulder.

  ‘He seems to have done quite well,’ said Lara.

  ‘Let’s go and tell him he was terrific.’ Dani raced around the show ring to hug Tim.

  ‘You were fantastic, Tim! I’m so proud of you. Were you nervous?’

  ‘Not much once I started. You have to concentrate,’ he said.

  ‘I can see that. Was Mardi pleased?’

  ‘She said I did okay.’ He took off his riding hat.

  ‘You did better than well considering how little time you’ve been riding,’ said Jason.

  ‘So can I go out riding with you now?’ asked Tim.

  ‘If your mum agrees. And we’ll take Mardi with us too, how about that?’ Jason shot Dani a questioning look.

  ‘It depends, where you go and what horses. We’ll see,’ said Dani.

  ‘Aw, Mum, it’ll be fine . . .’

  ‘You’ll soon be good enough to get on Bomber. Good lad.’

  Dani turned to see Kerry.

  Jason gave a slight nod and turned on his heel. ‘Catch you all later.’

  ‘Hello, Kerry,’ said Dani. ‘I thought he did very well. But then you’d know more than me. But really I don’t think he’s ready for a big horse like Bomber.’

  ‘Figure of speech. Jason’ll fix him up with a suitable pony,’ said Kerry. ‘That’s one of his that Tim rode today.’

  ‘Jason said we can go riding now. Can he bring some horses to The Vale?’ asked Tim excitedly.

  ‘He doesn’t ride there,’ said Kerry. ‘Plenty of other places. Round Dingo Creek. Down by the river there’s a nice track. Good one, Tim. See you.’

  She turned and left them and Dani thought again what an odd woman she was. She suddenly thought of the big old house and made a note to ask Helen or Henry about it. They watched the prize giving and Tim receive a white ribbon rosette. Dani took a picture of him nearly bursting with pride, draping the ribbon round the pony’s neck.

  ‘Wait till Dad sees this,’ he said. ‘I got to go, Mum. Catch you later.’

  ‘We’ll be around or under the big cedar tree with the Catchpoles,’ said Dani.

  Almost everyone had brought a picnic basket and in between watching, participating in or judging events; rides; games and competitions, they settled in groups and wandered between them visiting, gossiping, sharing news and friendship.

  Tim had changed into shorts and the boys were taking turns trying to stay on the mechanical bull. Tabatha had entered one of Chesterfield’s angora goats in the show, hoping for a prize.

  Lara settled into one of Henry’s fold-up chairs in the shade as Patricia passed around a plate of cheese, olives and biscuits. Helen and Barney sat on a rug on the grass. While Tabatha and Toby were busy, their
parents, Angela and Tony, were off looking at a display of farm machinery. Dani relaxed between Max and Sarah, thinking how content she felt here.

  Patricia sat down and glanced at her watch. ‘I have to go and hand out prizes in the floral display in a little while. So, Dani, you excited about the Isabella movie? Roddy’s been quite a find, eh?’

  ‘I hope so,’ she answered uncomfortably. ‘Seems like townspeople are expecting big things.’

  ‘The tourist attraction of the movie set of Isabella’s house with sulky rides and so on could bring in people. Once they’re here and discover there’s a lot more to see they’ll stay. That means they spend money on food, accommodation, souvenirs, seeing the sights,’ said Patricia.

  ‘That’s still a long way off,’ said Dani.

  ‘And what about you and Roddy?’ asked Helen with a smile.

  ‘Like you said, Helen, I’m just using him for sex!’ They all laughed, and Dani added quickly, ‘It’s nothing serious, I’m still looking for Mr Right.’

  ‘You girls are too picky,’ said Helen. ‘Young women today want to run everything themselves and be in charge, or else opt out and turn into femo-crats. Botox, the gym, get someone in to care for the kids and a rich husband who’s bored out of his skull.’

  ‘Now they’re fighting words,’ said Patricia.

  ‘I wish,’ laughed Sarah.

  ‘You’re generalising. Don’t tell me feminism has delivered, because ambitious women still get demonised,’ said Dani. ‘And I think it’s true, men marry down, women try to marry up. At least there’s not the social stigma about marrying younger men that there used to be. It’s just hard to meet people, let alone find a match.’

  ‘I’m so glad I’m past that,’ sighed Patricia. ‘I’d hate to be in my twenties or thirties today. Go on the net, Dani. Everyone does.’

  ‘What a load of codswallop you women talk,’ interjected Henry, reaching for a refill of tea from the Thermos. ‘Walk around here, there are a pile of healthy single farmers come to town for the show. Used to be the rodeo and the Saturday night show ball was where you’d find the love of your life. No trouble.’

  The women laughed and Max and Dani began discussing his exhibition he was readying for the New York agent now Greta had told him.

 

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