by Tony Parsons
‘Thanks, Dad. That’s sweet of you,’ Beth said as she bent and kissed him. She’d been surprised, and very relieved, that Dan had accepted, with such good grace, that she was going out with Rod for the evening. He obviously approved of their new wool classer more than she could have hoped. She kissed her mother before she went out.
‘Have a lovely night, won’t you,’ Dorothy called after her. She was thrilled that Beth was finally taking an interest in a man.
‘So far, so good,’ Beth breathed as she hitched up her dress to get into the driver’s seat of the Fairlane.
Rod had been about to go up to the house to collect Beth when there’d been the soft toot of a car horn outside and he’d gone to investigate.
‘Dad said we were to go in this,’ Beth said by way of greeting.
‘I can see why,’ he said. ‘Very nice.’
‘But I think you should drive,’ she said.
‘Perhaps I should. Then again, if you drive, I’ll be free to look at you in that outfit,’ he said and smiled.
Beth could feel her heart beating faster with his compliment. She walked round to the other side of the car where he was holding the door open for her. She smiled her thanks.
Once in the driver’s seat, he looked across at her and grinned as he drove slowly down the gravel track to the tarred road that ran through the heart of the valley. ‘When I came to Mattai, I didn’t expect to be going on a date with anyone, let alone someone as gorgeous as you, Beth,’ he said. ‘You’re a real knockout, and I’m looking forward to this evening.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, blushing. ‘I didn’t expect to be going on a date with Dad’s new classer, either,’ she said. ‘And as we’re passing out compliments, you don’t look too bad yourself.’ Rod was wearing smart black pants with a white shirt. ‘And thanks for agreeing to come tonight. I’ve really never asked anyone out before like this, so I hope you don’t think I’m strange. It’s just that we’ve all enjoyed your company so much – me, Mum, Dad, Jim, and even Bella commented on how lovely you are,’ Beth said.
‘Bella…’ he mused. ‘Are you two very close?’
‘Yes, but probably not as close as we used to be. Wally isn’t keen on her spending too much time away from Glen Avon these days,’ Beth replied hesitantly. ‘Things have really changed.’
‘Ah, Wally,’ he said.
‘Why “Ah, Wally?”’ she asked.
‘He came to have a look at the wool. I could see he wasn’t happy about Bella talking to me. He seemed a bit possessive. Jealous, too. But perhaps I’ve misjudged him.’
‘Not at all. Between you and me, I think Wally Osborne is the pits, and I think Bella might be sorry now that she married him, although she’d never admit it.’
‘Things not going well?’ he asked.
‘She hasn’t said as much, but I know her pretty well and I can tell she’s not happy. She just clams up when I try to discuss things with her. Jim found her in tears one day, and Bella was never one to cry easily.’
‘Did he ask her about it?’
‘He tried to, but she just brushed him off.’
‘How come your dad let Bella marry Osborne? I thought he had a thing about outsiders. At least, that’s what I’ve heard from some of the shearers.’
‘Wally’s so-called pedigree goes back a thousand years in Britain. The family had a castle there. On top of that, he had a superfine property in Tasmania,’ Beth replied.
‘So why did he leave it to come here?’
‘I don’t really know.’
‘You mean nobody asked him?’ Rod asked, puzzled.
‘That’s right. Nobody asked him. We got the feeling it was something we shouldn’t pry into – perhaps a family matter that’s none of our business,’ she said.
Rod shook his head. ‘Seems weird to me. If he owned a decent property in Tasmania, why would he leave it? Tasmanian superfine places are just about the best in the country.’
‘I don’t know, Rod. Wally came up here to inspect Glen Avon and as soon as he met Bella, he made up his mind to buy the place.’
‘So, how do you get on with him?’
‘Not very well at all. Not since I had to kick him in the shins at a dance one night,’ she said darkly.
Rod nodded. Beth didn’t have to tell him why she’d kicked Osborne in the shins. ‘So, what’s the drill on this restaurant?’ he asked as they drew closer to Mudgee.
‘The Panner’s Dream is the first licensed restaurant in Mudgee, and it hasn’t been opened long. Mum and I had lunch there one day. It’s very nice, and the food is something else,’ Beth said. ‘There’s a lot of thought been put into the place. You wouldn’t know it was once H.A. Marsh’s old auctioneering rooms.’
‘Sounds interesting,’ Rod said. He could have told her that he’d eaten at quite a few fancy restaurants in Sydney because eating out had become one of his particular interests while in town.
The smell of new timber and fresh paint was still noticeable in the restaurant when they entered. Rod had been grateful for many meals he’d consumed in Greek cafes in scores of bush towns, but not one of them had been set up like this restaurant in Mudgee’s Market Street. There was a kind of intimacy that suggested immediately that this was a place to linger over a good meal. There were candles right around the room, and as a reminder of Mudgee’s golden past, above the fireplace was a gold-panning pick and shovel.
‘I like the look of the menu. The specialty is aged pan beef. That’ll do me. I might have a few oysters before that. What takes your fancy?’
‘I’ll have the oysters, too, followed by the chicken,’ Beth said.
‘What will you have to drink?’ Rod asked.
‘I’ll have a white wine, please,’ she said. She had been going to say an orange juice but didn’t want Rod to think she was backwards or immature. Mudgee people were supposed to have an appreciation of wine.
Rod ordered an orange juice and saw Beth’s eyebrows arch in surprise. ‘You don’t drink?’ she asked. She wanted to learn all about his likes and dislikes.
‘Yes, I like wine and I definitely drink beer, but tonight I’m escorting Dan Stafford’s daughter so I don’t want any mistakes at the wheel,’ he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He could have told her that he knew quite a bit about wine from Sheilagh, who maintained a collection of the stuff.
‘I get the feeling Dad thinks you’re all right by now,’ she said.
‘Yeah, I’ve had a bit of an ally in your brother. And I’ve certainly put in a few hard years learning the wool game. When I started, I had to stand at a table for hours picking coloured threads from wool waste. And the working conditions in some of the wool stores were lousy. I imagined that the wool industry was so prosperous there would be good conditions at every store but some places were only fit for rats. And then when I went out to sheds I had to put up with some real boozy shearers.’ Rod shook his head in disgust. ‘I guess what I’m trying to say is that I had to earn my expertise and I hope your dad thinks it was worth the extra money he’s shelling out. Now I’m just keen to find a suitable property to buy.’
‘I just hope you’ll keep coming to us in the meantime,’ Beth said.
‘I’m surprised your dad hasn’t got enough faith in Jim to let him have a go at it.’
‘Jim’s afraid that if he doesn’t do a good job, he’ll never hear the end of it. But sooner or later, he’ll have to take over. So, is this your first visit to Mudgee?’ Beth asked, steering the subject away from her father and brother.
‘No, I’ve been here before, but only passing through. There have been a few changes since my first visit.’
‘Lots of new people and some trendy ones amongst the wine lot and the hobby farmers. The locals didn’t think much of them at first but they’ve brought a lot of new ideas with them and the district is getting used to them. I suppose nothing stays the same forever, does it? That’s the problem with the people in the Half Moon; they want things to stay the same as
they’ve always been. They’re all right but they only talk about sheep and wool and the weather and local gossip,’ she said.
‘What do you want them to talk about?’
‘Anything but those things,’ she answered. ‘I reckon you have to have more varied interests to keep you happy.’
‘Yeah, you might be right,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard similar appeals many times from people in some very isolated places. But don’t think it’s all beer and skittles away from the bush in the cities. Driving to work in Sydney and Melbourne can be nightmarish. If you were driving along Parramatta Road, wedged in by traffic on either side, you’d probably wish you were back on the Mattai Road. And–’
Rod’s flow of words was interrupted by the restaurant’s proprietor. ‘Excuse me, sir,’ she said, looking deferentially at Rod.
‘Yes?’
‘I’m sorry for interrupting you. The thing is, I know your face but can’t place you. The booking says Stafford and I do know this lady and her family but I was wondering whether we’d met before. I pride myself on remembering the names of all my guests.’
‘My name’s Cameron, Rod Cameron.’
The proprietor shook her head. ‘That doesn’t ring a bell. I still think I saw your picture somewhere.’
‘You must be mistaken,’ Cameron said shortly. ‘I’m classing the Stafford clip – nothing too newsworthy, I’m afraid. Not unless it tops the wool sales.’
‘Perhaps it will come to me. Please forgive me for bothering you.’ With a slight bow, she returned to the reception area.
‘How very odd,’ Beth said. ‘You haven’t been up to anything I should know about, have you?’ she laughed.
‘Certainly not. My life isn’t that exciting,’ Rod said. ‘Anyway, we’d better not be too long here or we’ll miss the beginning of the show. I’m pretty impressed with this restaurant, though. We’ll have to come again some time.’
‘I’ll second that,’ Beth said, secretly delighted to learn that Rod was thinking beyond this evening.
They lingered just a little longer over the meal. Their eyes looked into each other’s and they continued to chat happily, at ease together. Beth was thrilled at the feeling of Rod’s hand on her arm as he held the chair back for her. ‘Thank you,’ she said and flashed him a brilliant smile.
They were very quiet on the short trip from Mudgee to Gulgong. It was as if being together was enough for now. The companionable silence was enough for Beth, anyway, and she hoped that Rod felt the same way.
The old Prince Edward Opera House was a relic of the days when Gulgong had been a boom town. The narrow, crooked streets had been tramped by thousands of gold seekers from all parts of the globe. It was said that at the height of the gold rush the century before as many as thirty thousand people lived in and around Gulgong. The people of Gulgong treasured the past and did everything they could to evoke what Henry Lawson described as ‘the roaring days’. The musical nights at the old Opera House were one example of their efforts.
Beth noticed several people gazing at them very intently as she and Rod entered the building. Beth was well known in the district and introduced Rod to some of the people she knew. The president of the Opera House committee was a large woman with a friendly, outgoing personality. She eyed Rod with interest as they were introduced.
‘You remind me of someone,’ Ms Lowe said gustily. ‘I can’t remember whom but it will come to me. That’s why I got such a surprise when I saw you come into the foyer.’
‘Have you got a twin brother you haven’t mentioned?’ Beth asked Rod as they left the foyer.
‘Definitely not. I’ve got a sister and I could never be mis-taken for her. She’s far too good-looking,’ Rod said with a grin.
‘What a coincidence that two different people in the same night have asked you the same question,’ Beth said, looking at him quizzically.
Rod’s answer was to take her arm and guide her to a seat with a clear view of the stage. Beth couldn’t have been happier – their first touch at the restaurant had been very brief but this contact was more prolonged. A couple of times when Beth laughed during the old-time musical comedy that evening, her fingers touched Rod’s arm, but he didn’t respond. He seemed completely absorbed in the entertainment.
‘That was fun, wasn’t it?’ Rod said when the curtain came down for the last time to rapturous applause. ‘We’d better head for home. It’s late and your father might be getting worried.’
‘I doubt it. I am over twenty-one now, you know. And Mum thinks you’re the ant’s pants, so I’m sure she’ll calm him down,’ Beth said with a smile.
Rod smiled back at her. ‘It’s just that on our first date I should try to make a good impression or I might not get the Fairlane next time.’
‘So when is the next time?’ Beth teased, her shyness gone. Rod grinned but gave no answer. He heard her chuckling softly to herself and thought that she seemed to have a very good sense of humour. It went well with her frankness. Two more positives. They were adding up.
A few miles out of Mudgee they turned off the main road on to the road that bisected the valley of the Half Moon. Rabbits scampered out of the way and a fox’s eyes gleamed brightly in the headlights. Beth pointed out the different properties as they passed the mailboxes at the side of the road. Some of the property names were known to Rod as he had seen the clips on the show floor. A house light here and there pinpointed the location of the various homesteads.
‘Watch the road through this section, Rod,’ Beth cautioned. ‘The roos come down out of the hills and you see a lot of them along this stretch. It’s the green pick along the creek and the water that brings them down.’
It was very cosy in the car. Beth thought of it as their own small world of comfort and intimacy. She was surprised how much at ease she felt with Rod now.
‘Did you enjoy it? The evening, I mean,’ he asked.
‘Very much. It’s been lovely. I wish it didn’t have to come to an end.’
‘All things come to an end eventually, Beth. Anyway, you won the glamour stakes by a mile tonight. No competition really.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, blushing.
‘What I can’t understand is why you don’t have a boy-friend. What’s up with the men around here? Don’t they know a gorgeous girl when they see one?’ he asked.
‘It’s probably more me than them. A couple of fellows have taken me out – I meet plenty of people at the local dances and balls – but there hasn’t been one I’ve wanted as a boyfriend,’ Beth said.
‘I get the picture,’ Rod replied.
‘The thing is that I don’t want you to get the wrong impression about me asking you out tonight. I’m not fast and I’m not boy-mad. I never have been. Just the opposite.’
Rod was quiet for a little while and Beth wondered if he thought her too forward.
‘Beth,’ Rod began at last. ‘Do you feel you can trust me, after so short an acquaintance? It’s just that you might hear stories about me that displease you and they might not meet with your father’s approval.’
She looked across at him in the half-light of the illuminated dashboard. ‘What kind of stories? About you and other women?’ she asked.
‘No. It’s just that there are things I’ve done to achieve what I want out of life and I have a feeling that they wouldn’t sit well with some people – and I include your father in that category.’
‘What, like illegal things?’ she asked.
‘Nothing like that. I hate crooks. But before long I’m sure you’ll hear things about me. You’ll need to trust me. That’s if you’re still interested in seeing me when I finish classing your wool. Remember, you know very little about me at the moment,’ he said.
Beth was confused. ‘I don’t want to forget about you and I sincerely hope you don’t want to forget about me,’ she said quickly. ‘And I don’t like talking in riddles. I’d much prefer you to be frank with me as I’ve been frank with you. But if there are reasons why you can’t or ar
e not ready to confide in me, I’ll accept that. Yes, I trust you. Mum trusts you. And Dad trusted you enough to loan you his car! That’s not a bad start. And you’re not exactly unknown. Our wool firm recommended you highly. What else is there to know? What have you got to hide, Rod?’ she asked.
‘That isn’t something I’m ready to discuss right now but I will in the future, I promise. I’ve asked if you’re prepared to trust me because I assure you that everything will come out right in the end,’ Rod said firmly.
‘I’ll trust you,’ she said simply and with some feeling. ‘You must have a good reason for not wanting to tell me and I’m prepared to accept that. It’s not as if I’m someone who is close to you.’ She wanted to add that she wished she was closer to him but she thought it was probably too soon to come out with that kind of sentiment.
‘You might come to be,’ he said gently.
Those words were music to Beth’s ears and went beyond anything she had hoped would come out of the evening. Indeed, she was so stunned by them that she was momentarily tongue-tied. ‘I’d like that very much,’ she whispered finally.
Beth pointed out the Mattai mailbox and Cameron guided the Fairlane up to it. They were getting close to the homestead, which was hidden from the road by a dense belt of pines.
‘That’s a great windbreak,’ he said, pointing at the trees.
‘Great-grandfather Stafford planted those pines,’ Beth said. ‘It’s very handy for shorn sheep if the weather turns nasty. You’d be surprised how much warmer it is in there. I’ve ridden through it countless times and always felt the change. Those few degrees can make all the difference for the survival of our shorn sheep.’
Rod nodded his understanding. ‘I saw sheep die in thousands in New England. There was a bad spell of weather and it came in November, not in winter. A week of rain and cold winds. I knew of two places that each lost a thousand sheep. They even died in the sheds.’
‘That’s tragic,’ Beth said, then suddenly lost her concentration. ‘The lights are still on,’ she said as they drew closer to the homestead. ‘Dad and Mum don’t stay up this late and Mum said she’d only leave the outside light on for us.’