by Tony Parsons
‘I think I might,’ Rod said, a little hesitantly.
‘Listen, Roddy, you’ve made some tough decisions in your life, and now it’s time to let go of me. I realise you are fiercely loyal to your friends, but you don’t owe me anything, and you should grab her before someone else does.’ Sheilagh rose from her chair and hugged Rod tightly. They both felt sad, but neither was regretful.
‘I hope you’ll send me an invitation to the wedding,’ Sheilagh said with a parting smile. ‘I’ll be very hurt if you don’t.’
‘You mean you’d actually go bush for a weekend?’ he said.
‘I suppose I could tolerate it for one weekend,’ she grinned. ‘And I could bring back some of Mudgee’s famous wines.’
Sheilagh would be all right, he realised. As he drove back to Mudgee, Rod felt at peace for the first time in many, many months. It was dependent on Beth, but his future was looking much clearer.
Chapter Twenty-nine
For once Beth didn’t feel any real enthusiasm for the upcoming sheepdog trial. Wes’s death weighed on her mind. She would have liked to discuss it with Rod, but he was still in Sydney.
The Turella trial was a small event, held a fortnight before the Sesqui-Centenary Sheep Show in Mudgee. There would be sheepdog trials there too. The Central Tablelands Championships would be the biggest sheepdog event for the area because they had attracted extra sponsorship on account of the importance of the show.
Bonny ran a creditable third in the Turella maiden trial, even though she didn’t pen. Beth’s greatest concern had been that Bonny might bolt off the ground as she had done with Wally, but she had cast almost perfectly. Beth’s kelpies, Troy and Trump, weren’t among the placegetters but worked quite well. It was one of the few trials she had attended where Jim hadn’t beaten her scores and that pleased her immensely. Jim reckoned he’d always had the edge on her. But his mind was on other things these days, namely his plans with Helen.
‘Rod’s back,’ Dorothy informed her when she arrived back from Turella. ‘He rang up to let us know.’
‘How’s his burn?’ Beth asked, trying not to reveal how excited she was that Rod had finally returned.
‘It’s healing quite well now. He’s not to carry anything on his shoulder for some time and he has to get it checked out at the hospital for a month or two,’ Dorothy said.
‘Any other news?’
‘There’s a message for Jim. Hugh Johnstone, a friend who he boarded with at school, wants to come from Tasmania to see him. He’s coming over to look at rams at Merryville and a couple of other places and wants to come up for the show.’
‘Jim should like that,’ Beth said. ‘Maybe he can get some advice on how to propose to Helen. He’s taking his time about it.’
‘Mmm. How did you fare at the trials, dear?’
‘Bonny ran third in the maiden without the pen. If I’d got the pen, she would have won it. She was very careful and time ran out. Trump and Troy both scored.’
‘Well, that’s a good workout for the Mudgee trials,’ Dorothy said, congratulating her daughter with a peck on the cheek.
‘I really didn’t have my heart in it this time, Mum. I was thinking of Wes and what he might have become if he’d had a different kind of father. He would’ve probably made a very fine photographer because he had such incredible patience. Suicide is such a waste. Wes should have cleared out and taken some kind of job until he got on his feet, but his father had him on such a leash. I just hope no other woman takes Henry on now that Jane has left him. That sort of man should remain a bachelor,’ Beth said vehemently.
‘Yes. It certainly proves how important it is as a woman to make sure you choose a man who’ll be a good husband, father and friend. I know your father can be a difficult man, Beth, but he’s essentially a good man. All I want now is for my daughters to learn to expect only the best from men and not accept anything less. You both deserve the best – not men like Henry Saunders, Wally Osborne or even Drew Stevens. The very, very best.’
Hugh Johnstone was impressed by both Beth and Bella. Jim had once told him that he had a couple of ‘decent-looking sisters’ and Hugh now reckoned that had been the greatest understatement he’d ever heard. When Hugh sat down to dinner with the Staffords and found himself alongside Jim’s sisters, both of whom, it appeared, were unattached, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
Hugh was a very well setup young man. He was about the same height as Jim but of slightly heavier build and perhaps better looking. He was dark-haired and had expressive brown eyes that were always animated.
Currently, he was having the time of his life driving around looking at fine-wool sheep for his family’s property in Tasmania, in which he held a substantial share. He had told his father that he wouldn’t come back until he found a really outstanding ram.
The next morning Jim took Hugh down to the ram shed. Hugh spent a lot of time scrutinising the Mattai rams and Jim could see he had a very discerning eye.
Hugh was impressed with the wool on the rams in the shed. The two top rams were lovely woolled sheep, both superfine and very even. If they had a fault it was that they were a shade on the small side for really top sheep. It would take very good rams to beat them at the show, but they could certainly be beaten by rams with more scale.
‘Dad thinks those two top rams are about as good as he’s bred,’ Jim said.
He was anxious to hear whether Hugh would comment on their scale, but his friend remained silent until they moved outside and sat down on some upturned buckets for a yarn. Hugh’s first question took Jim by surprise.
‘Have you run into a fellow around here by the name of Wally Osborne? We heard that he’d bought a property somewhere near Mudgee.’ Hugh shifted slightly and added, ‘He was a pretty keen cricketer – a slogger and not a bad fielder.’
One of the things Jim had learned from his father was the value of not opening his mouth too readily when someone else was giving out information. If you were cagey, it was often possible to pick up something you didn’t know. In this case, Jim realised that Hugh might know why Wally had left Tasmania and his substantial property. Rod had raised this question and it had bugged Jim ever since. In the hope of discovering an answer, Jim decided to play his cards close to his chest. ‘Wally plays cricket with Mudgee. He’s a slogger all right.’
‘The fellow’s no good, you know. I used to play cricket with him. We revoked his membership. Andrew St Clair, the captain of the club, checked him out and advised him to leave Tasmania. Andrew told him he’d be ostracised if he stayed. Bad business, what he did,’ Hugh said, shaking his head in disgust.
‘What did he do?’ Jim asked, burning with curiosity.
‘He brought a high-class callgirl over from Melbourne for a couple of days. Took to her with a riding crop and gave her a proper hiding. A mate of mine was driving home and found her running down the road after midnight. Justin took her home and his wife looked after her. Justin’s wife told Andrew St Clair that there were welts all over the girl’s backside and thighs.’
Hugh paused for a moment, noticing Jim’s face had turned very pale, but then continued. ‘Seems as if Wally’s father was a queer fish too. He was killed, murdered most likely, because of what he did to some prominent woman. Real charmer on the face of it but bad news with women. The whole thing was hushed up. The mongrel probably left Britain because of something he did there. Great name and all that but sick up top, liked to hurt women. Wally obviously developed the same problem. I hope Osborne hasn’t run amok here.’
Jim decided it was time to tell his friend the whole story. He also realised that the information Hugh had supplied was just what Rod needed when he went to read the riot act to Wally. ‘He already has, Hugh. Wally married my sister, Bella. She stuck it out as long as she could but when he gave her a belting with a riding crop, that was it. She left him.’
Hugh sat up straight and looked at Jim as if he didn’t believe what he’d just heard. ‘You mean to say that gorgeous siste
r of yours is Wally Osborne’s wife? That you’re Osborne’s brother-in-law?’
‘Yes and yes,’ Jim admitted. ‘I suppose that, technically speaking, Bella is still Wally’s wife but she’s left him for good and will be seeking a divorce.’
Hugh still appeared stunned. ‘He probably put on a good show to get you people onside but it makes me feel sick inside to think of how he would have treated Bella.’
‘We know that now, and I’m so glad to have found out about his past. Thank you. Now, look here. There’s a fellow I’d like you to meet. He’d be very interested in what you’ve just told me. His name is Rod Cameron and he’s our neighbour. Rod’s set up a fine-wool stud and he’s got some very nice sheep. He cleaned Dad up with two great ewes at the last Mudgee Show. Won the Supreme Merino Exhibit. I’ll ring him and see if he’ll be there after lunch,’ Jim said. Jim had been bursting to visit Rod so he could see what he’d done at Glengarry, not to mention have a squiz at his show sheep. The fire had delayed Rod going to confront Wally and now Jim could give him more ammunition for the visit to Glen Avon.
Over at Glengarry, Jim looked about with interest. Rod had made so many changes to the place. There were several small paddocks and there were new sheds and silos. Jim and Hugh found Rod overseeing the construction of an outside office and showroom attached to his show shed. There were two carpenters putting the finishing touches on the building. There were glass cases down one wall for displaying trophies and selected Glengarry show fleeces. Three fleeces were already in position behind the glass. ‘There’s too much noise here. We’ll go over to the house,’ Rod said.
He led them through the house to his study where they sat down on comfortable chairs and made small talk for a few minutes. Jim admired the sheep photographs on the walls before bringing up the real reason for their visit. Rod listened patiently as Hugh repeated what he had already told Jim about Wally.
‘This information should help Bella, shouldn’t it, Rod? I mean, for when you tackle Wally,’ Jim said. ‘It will help to have as much as possible over him, so he has no room to negotiate.’
‘I’d say we’ve got Wally on toast,’ Rod said. ‘You did right to bring Hugh over. Thanks so much.’ Turning to Hugh, he changed the subject. ‘So you’re over here looking for a ram. Seen anything you like?’
‘There are some fair sheep at Merryville, though I can’t say I’ve seen exactly what I’m looking for,’ Hugh said.
‘Is there any chance we could have a look at yours while we’re here, Rod?’ Jim asked. He was curious to see what his father would be up against at the sheep show in two weeks.
Rod looked at him intently, then at Hugh, and nodded his assent. It wouldn’t do any harm to let them see his sheep. He hadn’t seen Dan’s team but Bill Stratton had and he reckoned that they weren’t up to Rod’s. ‘Still a shade on the small side,’ Bill had told him.
The men walked out of the homestead and across to the show shed where the ewes were segregated from the rams by a dividing wall. ‘I don’t want rams fretting for ewes so I keep them quite apart,’ Rod told them with a wink. ‘Those are the two ewes I showed last year, Jim,’ he said, nodding towards the ewes in adjoining pens. He opened the first pen and caught the ewe so that Jim and Hugh could examine her. They then moved to the next pen where they repeated their inspection. Hugh looked up with shining eyes. ‘What a mighty pair of ewes. I’ve never handled two as good as them. How could you separate them?’
Rod nodded in agreement and led them into the next section of the show shed where his rams were penned. ‘Have a look at that fellow, Hugh.’
The ram in question was only a two-tooth but was a huge ram for his age. He was a fine, not a superfine, but when Hugh had finished his examination he reckoned he was the best young ram he had yet seen on his trip.
‘He’s by the same ram as the two top ewes. I didn’t get many lambs by him before I lost him but the ones I got were pretty good,’ Rod said.
‘He’s a clinker. I wouldn’t like to have to decide between him and one of those ewes for a Supreme,’ Hugh said. ‘What do you reckon, Jim?’
Jim was feeling a mixture of admiration and dejection. Knowing sheep as well as he did, he reckoned that it was a certainty that Rod’s ram would beat his father’s two at the show. Not only was he a lovely woolled sheep but he would stand over their sheep for size. He thought one of Rod’s ewes might beat the ram because she was virtually perfect, but it would depend on the judge on the day. Some judges would lean to the ram because of his scale. Huge fine-wool rams like this were a rarity. Jim knew his father was going to get well and truly walloped.
‘You wouldn’t want to sell him, would you?’ Hugh asked, already knowing the answer.
Rod shook his head. ‘No, I wouldn’t. I’ll sell you some semen from him if you’re into AI, though.’
‘We’ll certainly be into AI if it means we can get some semen from this ram,’ Hugh said eagerly.
‘How are your two dear rams going?’ Jim asked.
‘They’re okay. I’ve got a heap of semen from them. They’re outside in separate paddocks. I’d get them in to show Hugh except that I keep them shorn down pretty well. I was thinking I might let your father have some semen from the superfine fellow. It wouldn’t replace the rams you lost in the fire but it might buck him up a bit,’ Rod said.
‘Dad should appreciate that. How much a straw?’ Jim asked.
‘No charge. Dan’s got a lot of expense in front of him, what with putting up new fences and maybe buying out Wally, if that’s the type of settlement we can negotiate for Bella. I won’t miss a few straws.’
‘How many could we have?’ Jim asked, barely able to believe what he was hearing.
‘I thought about a couple of hundred,’ Rod said calmly.
‘A couple of hundred! That’d be terrific, Rod,’ Jim said enthusiastically.
‘I’ll take two hundred straws from your young ram, if I can have them,’ Hugh added. ‘We can pay you a very good price.’
Rod extended his hand towards Hugh who took it gingerly, having experienced one of Rod’s bone-crushing handshakes earlier.
‘What’s that for?’ Hugh asked.
‘You’re my first ram buyer, in a sort of way,’ Rod said.
Hugh rescued his hand and grinned. ‘And I’ll bet I’m not your last.’
After a tour of the stud facilities, both Hugh and Jim realised that Rod was going to make a big name for himself in the fine-wool merino business. There was no doubt that Glengarry would be renowned, far and wide.
‘Thanks for showing us around, Rod. And thanks for the offer of the semen. I’ll contact you when I get back home,’ Hugh said.
‘Good to meet you, Hugh. Come and see me any time. And I appreciate the info on Osborne. It should stitch up that business.’ Rod felt it had been a very constructive afternoon.
Dan was bursting to discover what Jim and Hugh thought of Rod’s sheep and, indeed, his whole setup. That evening, over the roast lamb that Dorothy had so expertly prepared, Dan fired his first question.
‘How was your trip to Glengarry, Hugh?’
‘Very interesting, Mr Stafford,’ Hugh said. He was a polite young man who had been taught to give older people absolute respect. ‘Very interesting indeed. Rod’s got a great setup there. Probably one of the finest I’ve ever seen. No doubt about it.’
‘Did you see any of his sheep? His show sheep, I mean?’ Dan asked quickly.
Jim was relieved his father had asked Hugh, and not him, for his opinion of Rod’s sheep because he’d been trying for hours to work out how he would answer such a question. He didn’t want to be the one to dash his father’s hopes of winning the big sheep show.
‘Yes, we saw the two ewes he showed at Mudgee last year and we saw a young ram by the same sire.’
‘You did, eh? What did you think of them?’
‘I must admit I thought they were virtually unbeatable, Mr Stafford. I’d say they were the best three fine-wool sheep I’ve ever se
en,’ Hugh said with the honesty that was an essential part of his character.
Dan’s shoulders slumped and he looked sideways at Jim. That explained why Jim had been avoiding him since the boys had returned from Glengarry. ‘What did you think, Jim?’ he finally asked. He held a forkful of lamb in midair as he waited for his son’s response. He valued Jim’s opinion like no other.
‘They’re pretty good, Dad,’ Jim admitted cautiously.
‘Pretty good? Would they beat what we’ve got in the shed?’ Dan asked.
‘It depends on the judge. You know that.’ Even to Jim’s own ears, his voice sounded weak.
‘Hugh, what do you think?’ Dan asked, feeling more anxious by the second.
‘Rod’s young ram is enormous for a fine-wool and I reckon it would be between him and one of the ewes for the Supreme,’ Hugh said. He realised his host was disappointed but there was no point in glossing over the truth.
‘So that’s it. Did you see any of his wool?’ Dan asked.
‘Only old wool, Mr Stafford. Rod had three fleeces in a big glass cabinet. One of them was his Grand Champion Fleece from last year. It was a beautiful fleece–’
‘Rod said he’d like to give us two hundred straws from that big superfine ram he bought in Melbourne,’ Jim interjected.
Dan stopped chewing and switched his gaze from Hugh to Jim. ‘Why would he do that?’ he asked, his brow furrowed.
‘Rod felt that we’d probably be up for a lot of expense over here with fencing and other things and that it might be a help,’ Jim said.
‘How splendid!’ Dorothy exclaimed. She had remained silent while this discussion had been proceeding but Rod’s magnanimous gesture gave her the opportunity to speak.
‘And apparently Rod wants to talk to you about something important, Dad,’ Jim said and rolled his eyes. Bella and Beth sat up a little straighter on hearing this piece of news. Bella guessed that it would involve her and how they were going to handle Wally. Beth hoped that maybe Rod was going to ask her father if he could court her, or at least make his intentions clear.