by Tony Parsons
I handed over Luke’s birthday present which was a new you-beaut fishing reel.
‘This might be called aiding and abetting in the commission of a hobby,’ Judy said when she saw it, then laughed. Judy was a great sport and I couldn’t imagine her and Luke ever splitting up. The world would blow up before that happened. They were two solid people who took problems and difficult periods in their stride.
There was a momentary break in our preparations when the two female bombshells finally met – one blonde and one brunette. They were both wearing jeans because I’d stressed that this was a very informal gathering.
Christine watched me very closely all through the evening, though I always made it my business to spend time with everyone, including the kids, at these sorts of gatherings. Roger and Kate Stirling rated a close second to Flora’s two in my books. I’d been privy to some of their biggest problems and secrets and they regarded me as “okay for an older person”.
It was a pretty good barbecue. The steak was first class and there were chops and sausages galore along with the salads. Nobody drank too much and I drank very little because I wanted to finish the evening with my wits intact. I was anxious that Gaye didn’t leave early because I wanted to have a serious talk with her.
There was no shop talk between Gaye and I because we couldn’t discuss police matters in front of anyone but Luke. Instead, we talked about a lot of things, including horses, farming and properties.
‘So you’re just about ready to go bush to look for your property?’ Judy said.
‘I’m heading off this week,’ I said. ‘I’ve got a lot of information from various agents. At the moment, most of them are either too large or too small.’
‘Where do you fancy looking first?’ Judy asked.
‘I’ll poke about Central Western New South Wales. I know it reasonably well because I had my first police posting there. If I can’t find anything suitable I’ll need to look elsewhere. I don’t want a place with frigid winters or one that’s too far from a town and schools. It’s too hard on your family, especially kids,’ I said.
‘You don’t have any kids though,’ said Christine.
‘Well I sure hope to have kids,’ I said.
I could have gone on talking about land and properties for most of the night but I didn’t want to bore them with that sort of stuff on Luke’s birthday. I tried to stay clear of Kamilaroi too because that was a touchy subject for Nicole and the girls.
Everyone pitched in and we washed up in no time and finished up with supper which was Luke’s birthday cake washed down with tea or coffee – or soft drinks for the kids. After Luke was given his presents people started to leave.
Finally, only Gaye was left, and we walked out past the Moreton Bay fig and just beyond where the big outside light illuminated part of the back lawn.
‘I’m glad you came, Gaye,’ I said, thinking it was all or nothing now.
‘I was surprised you invited me,’ she said.
‘Really! Why?’ I asked.
‘You couldn’t get away from the Gorge quickly enough,’ she said. ‘I took it that you’d had enough of my company. And that night at your sister’s place you were almost off-handed.’
‘You couldn’t be more wrong, Gaye. I was damned scared if I saw any more of you I’d make a fool of myself with you. I didn’t know how you felt about me. And I guess, truth be told, I didn’t feel up to dealing with being rejected,’ I said, realising again what a blind fool I’d been. I should have known that last night in Coonabarabran. I was supposed to be a hotshot detective and I hadn’t been able to detect what Gaye felt about me. How dumb could a fellow be?
‘There hasn’t been a day that I haven’t thought about you. But how did you know what I felt about you. I tried not to show it,’ I said.
‘I knew even before Morris told me what you said that you liked me. I put in my resignation not long after I got back from the Pilliga. I realised you’d been badly affected by your divorce. It was you or the Force,’ she said.
I put my arms around her and we kissed.
‘We’re so silly to have wasted so much time,’ said Gaye. ‘Why didn’t you come straight out and say what you thought? For a smart man you’ve been very obtuse. Your mother told me she couldn’t understand you. Yes, I went to see her. I’m going to get on very well with your mother, Lachie.’
‘Mum didn’t say you’d been to see her.’ I said.
‘I asked her to keep mum about it. Literally. Your mum’s a grand lady. She told me quite a lot about you, Lachie. I knew I wouldn’t get it out of you,’ she said.
‘I thought you deserved better than me, Gaye. A younger fellow. And some women don’t like second-hand blokes,’ I said.
‘Oh Lachie, you’re always putting yourself down because of your failed marriage. These things happen. You were married to a woman who had different values. You’re a great person, smart and with lots of integrity. The kids all love you and they’re usually very good judges of character,’ said Gaye.
‘What are these courses you’re doing?’ I asked, looking to change the subject a little.
‘Cooking and first aid. I wanted to improve my cooking and I thought the first aid might come in handy if I went back to the bush,’ she said, smiling.
‘Hmm,’ I murmured.
‘Here we are with things finally sorted out and I’m going to have to leave you to look at properties,’ I said.
‘Yes, but if you find the right property you may never need to leave me again,’ she said.
My heart beat faster because Gaye had just answered the question I had been about to ask her. ‘No, I won’t,’ I agreed.
‘I’d like to be going with you but I’ve started these courses and I’d like to finish them. It may take weeks, even months, to find what you’re looking for. I’ll be here and ready to go when you are,’ she said.
‘If and when I find a decent property I’ll want you to see it before I close the deal,’ I said. ‘If you don’t like the place, I won’t buy it.’
‘You couldn’t be fairer than that, but I’m sure if you like it I’ll like it,’ Gaye said. ‘Mind you, we won’t always agree.’
‘No, I know. How did Ballinger take your resignation?’ I asked.
‘Reasonably well. He joked that that’s what he got for sending me up to work with you. He told me what you’d said about me so I knew I hadn’t misjudged what you felt about me,’ Gaye said.
‘Well I must say it’s a great relief to know where we stand. I can leave to look at properties with a clear mind. I’ll let you know how I’m going. Have you got any preference for locality?’ I asked.
Gaye shook her head. ‘Not really. The most important thing is to have a place that can pay its way. I’ll have to leave you to work that out. I don’t want a terribly fancy house either. It wouldn’t matter if it needed some attention just so long as the property’s right,’ she said.
What a woman, I thought. So different to Fiona. I’d found a treasure and I didn’t want to lose her. We’d got on well at the Pilliga camp and hopefully we always would.
I’m afraid we were very late leaving my house that night but when we left we knew what was in front of us and I think it would be true to say that we were very excited by what the future promised.
CHAPTER 26
Buying a property was a very special undertaking. It meant, for starters, outlaying a lot of money. It also entailed a high degree of judgement. The wisest and most successful landowners bought properties that suited their objectives. Thus a grain grower wouldn’t look for a property in New England or anywhere else where it was difficult to grow either winter or summer grains. The major emphasis at Kamilaroi when I was growing up was on sheep and cattle but it was also possible to grow either winter or summer crops there, which in fact we did to a greater extent in the bad years for beef and wool.
What I was looking for was a smaller property similar to Kamilaroi where I could run decent numbers of sheep and cattle while being
able to grow some grain – oats, certainly – depending on prices and seasons. If there was scope for some irrigation, so much the better. There was no way I was going to be locked into a property that wouldn’t allow me the latitude to diversify. I also wanted a property that was big enough to support an extended family should one of my kids want to stay on the land. Lastly, I wanted a property that was in reasonable proximity to a decent-sized town with adequate medical and educational facilities.
I’d been in touch with several agents in the general Central West of New South Wales because I knew the area better than anywhere else. My first police posting had been in Parkes and I’d driven to most of the towns adjacent to it at one time or another. There were good places in several areas but they just weren’t big enough to be viable unless there was enough water for irrigation and in most cases there wasn’t. Cowra and Canowindra were attractive areas but they were ‘social areas’ – by which I mean that they were considered very desirable areas and attracted a premium. City business people who didn’t have to rely on farming for their primary income bought properties around these areas. Mudgee was the same and had a lot of winemakers and hobby farmers in the district.
There were some nice wool-growing properties in the general Yass area but some of them could be fire traps with their long summer grass and rocky hills where it wasn’t possible to plough firebreaks. You couldn’t guard against every possible disaster but I had a particular horror of fire. Likewise country that went under in a flood. River country was valuable if the river stayed within its banks. You could even tolerate some flooding along the river but not a flood that covered most of a property.
I drove a lot of miles and stayed at a lot of pubs and motels but it was turning out to be very difficult to find the kind of property I was looking for. I thought my next step would be to change direction and drive up to the Delungra-Warialda region where I knew there was some good country.
Just by chance I dropped into the Forbes sheep sale where I met a sheep buyer called Greg Hamilton who’d bought sheep from us at Kamilaroi. He was surprised to see me there because he thought I was a cop. I told him I’d left the Force and was selling my portion of Kamilaroi so I was looking for a property and that so far I hadn’t found what I was looking for. He asked me what kind of property I was looking for and I summarised what my ideal place would be in a few sentences.
‘You could do worse than look at that country west of the Warrumbungles,’ he said. ‘Some of the best sheep I buy come from that area. I’d recommend basing yourself at Gilgandra and having a dekko north and south of there.’
‘Isn’t it all light country . . . red, sandy stuff?’ I asked.
One of the things my late father had preached was the desirability of a property having both black and red country – that is, heavy and light country. The lighter country comes quicker after rain but goes off quicker and the black country needs more rain but lasts longer.
‘There’s plenty of that and it’s good crop country but there’s heavy black self-mulching and red loam soils. They’re growing good lucerne too. I reckon it might be some of the best value-for-money country going these days. It grows helluva good stock and there’s some good merino studs in the area. It’s fairly close to Dubbo too so you’ve got most of what you want in the way of hospitals and schools there.’
Greg Hamilton knew sheep so I gave a lot of credence to what he had to say. I’d hoped to head back to Sydney to see Gaye that weekend but I decided to put that off for a few days while I scouted the Gilgandra area.
I rang Gaye and gave her my regular update on what I’d been up to and where I’d been to look at places and then told her what Greg had said.
‘What do you think, Lachie?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know the area well at all even though it’s not much more than an hour or so west of Kamilaroi,’ I said.
‘Your mother would be pleased if you bought a place there,’ she replied.
‘I suppose she would but so far I’m not having any luck. Maybe I’m due for a change,’ I said, laughing.
‘I’ve got my fingers crossed,’ said Gaye. ‘I’m missing you, Lachie.’
‘I’m missing you too, sweetheart, but the sooner I can find us a place, the sooner we can be together. The property is the first step to everything,’
‘The Pilliga was the first step to everything, Lachie,’ she said.
Which of course it was only we didn’t know it then.
Early the next morning I set off for Gilgandra, which was about forty miles north of Dubbo and right on the Castlereagh River. The region was first explored by John Oxley in 1818. The Castlereagh River, unlike most of the longer rivers of central and western New South Wales, did not have its headwaters in the Great Dividing Range and the average flow wasn’t up to some of the other western rivers. In fact it ranged from quite low to flooding. The Castlereagh was sometimes referred to as ‘the upside down river’ because stretches of the river disappeared underground, leaving only pools, but there was some very good country along the river.
I made contact with a local agent, Hugh Bailey, who was a walking encyclopaedia about the Gilgandra district. For the next two days he took me to properties north, south, east and west of Gilgandra though I didn’t see one that I really liked. The price per acre ranged from around $200 to as high as $350 per acre and one property had recently been bought for that price. The people who knew values said it would take that buyer years to make money out of it. The farming country was the dearest.
I asked a few local farmers for their idea of how much country I’d need to make a living but opinion was divided on this. A few said at least 1,500 acres and some said more. I was of the opinion that with costs going up the way they were, you’d need at least 3,000 acres and more for preference but no properties of that size were on the market. They were there – plenty of them west of Gilgandra – but they weren’t up for sale.
Hugh Bailey said he was sorry he couldn’t show me what I wanted but to keep in touch because properties came on the market from time to time. I’d come to the decision to head back to Sydney and take stock when he said, ‘Look, it might be worth you paying Mrs Gordon a visit. She’s been making noises about selling out since old Harry died but hasn’t got around to actually doing it.’
Hugh went on to tell me that Harry Gordon had finished sowing a paddock of oats, brought the tractor back to the shed and dropped dead as he got off it. ‘The old lady has been battling for months. She’s got arthritis and can’t do much. The neighbour’s fifteen-year-old boy planted her latest crop of wheat. He’s a terrific kid and helps her a lot in other ways. If you get on the right side of her she might decide to sell,’ said Hugh.
‘What’s the area of her property?’ I asked.
‘It’s roughly 4,000 acres and there’s some river country in it. Harry didn’t do as much farming as some. He liked sheep and cattle best. The stud cattle you’ll have from Kamilaroi would do well on the river country,’ said Hugh before pulling out a map and showing me where the Gordon property was to be found.
I thanked him and promised to tell him how I got on.
I drove out after breakfast the next morning and found Mrs Gordon feeding a pen of lovely Rhode Island Red hens. She was leaning heavily on a stick and making heavy weather of the job. I introduced myself and admired her hens and told her that my late father kept very nice Australorps at Kamilaroi.
The old lady looked at me in surprise. ‘You’re not that Lachie Sinclair from Kamilaroi?’
I assured her that I was. ‘Fancy that now. I remember you when you were a wee boy. Your lovely mother put on a very nice lunch for me and Harry and we bought a bull from Kamilaroi – and a very good bull he was too.’
She went on to tell me that they’d had Herefords for some years before Harry got bitten by the Angus bug and crossbreeding. I took the bucket of grain from her and after a little while we moved across to the big homestead where she insisted on giving me morning tea.
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bsp; While she was getting things ready we nattered away and it was clear she’d been very lonely since her husband died. She needed knee operations but wouldn’t leave the property to have them. She had no children and her closest relative since Harry’s death was a widowed sister in Dubbo.
‘Oh, I don’t know what to do, Lachie. Harry loved this place but I can’t do anything now. Young Johnny Hunter comes over and helps me when he can but he’s at school most of the time and I can’t rely on always having him.’
I told her that Hugh Bailey had suggested I come and see her just in case she had come to a decision about selling Glengarry.
She considered this for a little while and then said, ‘I know I need to think about selling but it’d be such a wrench. That said, I know you’d look after it well so I’d be happy for you to have a look over the place and see what you think.’
I thanked her and said it’d be great to look around and she offered to take me over the whole place if I could do the driving because she’d got to the stage where driving for too long was quite painful. As we toured the property it was clear everything was in good order and the state of the place spoke volumes for the effort Harry Gordon had put into it. There were machinery and hay sheds, grain silos, a three-stand woolshed and good set of cattle yards. The sheep yards needed a bit of attention but they were the only part of the property I could find fault with. But even with the sheep yards there was a covered race which was a big plus when handling sheep.
I was particularly pleased that the fencing was all in good order, with the river country fenced into multiple paddocks to allow maximum use of the richer ground. There was a mix of heavy black ground while farther away from the river the black or grey soil gave way to red loam. The timber was mainly box with some pine on the red country. There was timber in every paddock though the paddocks farthest from the house had the most. There was also an area fenced off for lucerne, which Mrs Gordon assured me could be watered though her husband had found it a bit much for him to handle towards the end of his life.