‘Sure,’ he answered amiably. ‘I’ll wait until you’ve gone then.’ He tapped his fingers against his legs to keep himself from saying anything more.
‘Do you need something in town, love?’ Sam turned to his wife and gave her a smile.
‘Not that I can think of.’ She ran her hands through her short greying hair. ‘Nope,’ she said again. ‘I think I’m organised. Thanks, though, darling.’
Dave noticed the beads of sweat were back on her brow and she looked pale. He looked across at his dad, wondering if he’d noticed. It didn’t appear that he had.
‘What’ve you been doing today?’ Dave asked, wondering if he should mention that his mum looked unwell.
Sam picked up his wallet from the kitchen bench and put it in his shirt pocket. ‘I’ve nearly finished the budget for next year,’ he answered.
‘Can I have a look?’ Dave asked.
‘We’ll talk about it after the wedding,’ he snapped, as if it were nothing to do with Dave.
‘Right.’ The silence in the room was heavy. Seeing his mum begin to look upset, he quickly said, ‘We’re going to organise a few beers with the cricket team boys if you want to come along, Dad. Jacko was keen to give Dean a bit of send-off into married life. Tonight at the club.’
‘It’s Tuesday.’ Sam drew his heavy eyebrows together in his classic look of disapproval.
‘We thought it’d be better than trying to do something on the Friday night before a Saturday wedding.’
‘Whose we?’
‘Jack Gatton has been organising it. Not a big do, just a couple of beers and snacks. Knowing Jacko, it’ll be pies from the bakery!’
‘I’ll see if I can get away.’
Dave nodded, understanding his father would probably prefer to be sitting in his study, sipping whiskey and watching the cricket. ‘I’ll let you know the time when Jacko tells me. How long before I can head off with the sheep?’
‘I’m leaving now. I won’t need lunch today, love.’ He strode out of the kitchen and, a few moments later, the ute door slammed and they heard the engine start.
‘Mum are you okay? You’re looking a bit pale.’
‘Love, I’m fine,’ she answered.
‘Best go shift the sheep, then,’ Dave said after a pause. Then, sticking his finger in the mixing bowl again and only just avoiding the wooden spoon coming down on his knuckles, he gave Carlene a mischievous grin and walked out.
Chapter 4
The beer glasses clinked in a ‘cheers’ gesture as Adam stood before the crowd of men. ‘And we wish you all the best for your life to come,’ he said, looking towards his older brother.
‘Hear, hear!’ the rest of the group bellowed, raising their glasses.
The club rooms were full of the cricket team and a few other farmers who didn’t play, plus a couple of the farm businessmen around town.
Dave leaned back against the wall and watched Dean work the room, talking to everyone—he had his father’s outward charm and could talk to anyone and make them laugh. But, inside their family situation, Dave knew how different he was, just like his father. He wondered if Dean would be the same with Mandy. Or did she just see the charisma?
His glance slid across to his father who was deep in conversation with Malcolm Nutt. He let out a loud laugh and slapped Malcolm on the back, nodding in agreement with whatever had just been said.
‘G’day, Dave,’ Mark Loxton said from next to him.
‘Mark, how goes things?’ Dave asked above the chatter.
The bank manager, who was also the team’s main spin bowler, smiled and indicated towards the crowd. ‘Great do. Jacko did a good job of organising it so quickly.’
‘He’s the man if you want anything social to happen! Busy at work?’
Mark took a sip of his drink. ‘Yeah, you know what January is like. Gearing up for all the reviews. At least this year has been kind to most of you farmers. I don’t like it when I have to put the hard word on people for repayments and, at the same time, I know there isn’t any chance of them being able to make them.’ He sighed deeply. ‘That is the part I really hate about my job.’
‘I can’t see that being a lot of fun,’ Dave agreed. ‘Must be hard when you’re so involved in the community.’ He knew Mark was not only on the cricket team, but played tennis every Wednesday night and, during winter, was the goal umpire for the footy team.
‘Mate, you wouldn’t believe how difficult it is.’ As he spoke, he looked over his shoulder. ‘When I had to sell up the Grainger’s farm, last year, it took me weeks to sleep properly again. The old man’s face crumpled when I told him there was nothing more I could do for him. If I’d had my way, I would’ve given him another year, but the head office wouldn’t have it. The problem with the big banks is they don’t understand the variances of farming: the seasons, the fluctuations in prices, all the things that can change in the blink of an eye.’
As Dave listened, he realised Mark had had a few too many drinks. The bank manager shouldn’t be talking out of school; confidentiality was paramount in his business.
‘How are you getting home?’ Dave interrupted, thinking even though it was so early in the night, Mark should leave before he said too much more.
‘Walking, probably.’ He looked up at Dave and stared him straight in the eye, then glanced across to where Sam was still laughing with Malcolm. ‘What are you going to do next year now, Dave?’
Pleased to be off sensitive topics, he waved his beer around before answering. ‘Just what I’ve been doing this year. Working on Wind Valley. Trying to improve what I’m allowed to. Dad seems to resist my ideas.’
‘Working on the farm still?’ Mark’s voice rose in surprise, then he seemed to gather himself. ‘Well, you know, with the land you’ve got, I’ve got my reservations about how it’s going to carry four families, Dave.’
‘Why’s that?’ Dave felt the first stirring of apprehension in his stomach.
‘Well, the forecast for grain prices isn’t good. Now with Dean getting married it has to make a livelihood for both Sam and Carlene, as well as Dean and Mandy. Obviously, couples need more money than singles, but there’ll be a time that both you and Adam want to marry. You should think about doing something else, I think. If you want my professional opinion.’
Gritting his teeth, Dave wondered where the hell that comment had come from. ‘Thanks for that, Mark. I’ll take it on board. Anyway, I’d better go and talk to some others . . .’
Mark grabbed his arm. ‘Dave, I’m telling you. You need to think about what you’re going to do next year because Wind Valley Farm isn’t going to be your future.’
Butterflies rose in Dave’s stomach as he thought back to his father’s cagey answer about the budget, and his unexpected trip into town that morning and on the previous Monday when he didn’t come home for lunch. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘Look I’ve said too much already,’ Mark answered. ‘I just appreciate you’ve got so much potential as a farmer. You’ll be wasted working with your family. Go see if you can make a name for yourself, Dave. Somewhere else. Away from here.’ He swayed a little as he raised his glass. ‘You’ll be a leader somewhere, sometime, Dave. You’ve got the ability to go far.’
Dave revved his ute’s engine and took off, gravel spraying the porch of the club rooms and the cars around him. He drove fast towards Wind Valley, taking the corners too close to the edge of the road. His heart was beating fast and he was sweating, feeling sick. He hoped he was jumping to conclusions, but he was sure Mark’s warning had some kind of prior knowledge behind it. What he wanted to do was storm over to his father, in the middle of everyone, and demand to know what was going on. Make the whole community understand what kind of a man Sam really was. But he wouldn’t. He would gather evidence first.
Before he’d left Dean’s buck’s party, he’d made sure his dad was still enjoying the drinks. Sam had gone from talking to Malcolm, to leaning on the bar, chatting to the football coach a
nd acting out moves he thought they should try when the season started again.
Pulling up at the house, he heard the dogs barking, and felt the moisture of the cool night on his skin. Unexpectedly, tears pricked at his eyes; this farm was the only place he wanted to be. He didn’t know what he’d do if he wasn’t here. What if . . . Dave couldn’t even think about the possibility of not being here.
Scratching at his face, he tried to get rid of any trace of tears, annoyed with his weakness.
Finally, composing himself, Dave checked to make sure the lounge light was out, meaning his mum was in bed, and quietly went up the front steps.
Sam’s office was at the back of the house and it had been a fun place to be when he’d been younger. The sun filtered through in winter and warmed the room. All the brothers had enjoyed sitting under the window and reading farming magazines, once their dad had finished with them. Summer had seen the curtain drawn tightly to keep the heat out.
There was a photo on the wall of a pen of steers which had topped a sale in Sam’s first year of farming and his desk was always neat and tidy. Against one wall there was a bar and on the floor a cattle skin. A TV was on top of a cabinet, so he could keep up to date with cricket and football scores.
Dave switched on the light and looked at the desk, wondering how had things gone so wrong. What had caused his dad to despise him so much?
Looking over his shoulder, he moved to the desk and flicked through the piles of bills to be paid and grain statements. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he thought perhaps the budget would hold a clue.
The heavy black cash-flow book was kept in the top drawer, and underneath it Dave found another book, one he hadn’t seen before. Flicking it open, he saw it was a planner for the upcoming year and quickly made sense of the budget, which was on the first two pages.
It looked like they were going to be putting in more crop next year and scaling the sheep operation back. He drew in a sharp breath. His eyes followed the column down until he came to the wages section. Dean and Adam were listed there. They were getting two hundred dollars a week. Sam and Carlene were taking four hundred per week—that was understandable as it was their farm.
But Dave’s name wasn’t there.
He stared, unable to believe what he was seeing. Did his mum know about this or had Sam made the decision without talking to her? She wouldn’t have ever agreed with him. His gut told him that she didn’t know.
‘Bastard!’ he hissed.
‘What?’ Carlene stood at the door.
Unable to control his anger, Dave shot up. ‘Did you know about this?’ he asked in a low, measured voice. ‘Did you?’ He shook the book at her.
Carlene’s eyes widened. ‘What?’ she asked, her fear obvious. ‘Know about what?’
‘That I’m not here next year? I’m not in the wages column and he’s scaling the sheep operation back. He’s chucking me out! Did you know, Mum?’
‘No! I don’t know anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Chucking you out? Maybe the budget isn’t finished.’
‘Oh, it’s finished alright. And I’m not in it.’
‘No,’ Carlene whispered.
Dave saw as she swayed slightly and grabbed hold of the door, but was too angry to do anything.
‘Yes,’ Sam said, appearing next to her. Neither of them had heard him arrive.
Dave wanted to fly at him. ‘You bastard,’ he snarled. ‘Why? Why after everything I’ve improved?’
‘We can’t afford you. Simple economic decision.’
‘Sam!’ Carlene’s voice cut across them both.
‘Stay out this,’ Sam turned on her, his voice low and angry. ‘Just shut up.’
‘You’re just going to kick me out? Out of the family business—with nothing.’
‘Not nothing. You can take the ute and dog I bought you. But you need to be out of the shearers’ quarters by the end of January. I can’t afford to keep you here.’
‘Sam!’ Carlene gasped and grabbed at his arm. ‘No, you can’t . . .’
‘I can. This is my farm. I warned you.’ He pointed his finger at Dave. ‘Warned you not to interfere and you’ve kept poking your nose where it shouldn’t be. The quicker I’m rid of you, the better off we’ll be.’
Carlene let out a high-pitched wail and slumped to the floor, still crying.
Dave stared at him, black dots covering his vision. Blindly he pushed past both his parents and ran out into the darkness. He heard his mum calling to him, but he kept going. Running. Running away to where his chest didn’t hurt and he didn’t feel betrayed.
The wedding had gone ahead without him because, by morning, his ute had been packed and Jip clipped in the back. He didn’t have many possessions, so it hadn’t taken him long.
He’d driven aimlessly for three days, no idea where he was headed or what he was going to do.
When he eventually called his cousin Kate, Dave heard that his mother had fainted after he’d left. That was the only thing he regretted—not staying for her; not looking after her.
When he did stop, he wrote his mum a letter:
Dear Mum,
I hope you get this. I’m sending it via Georgie and Jack in case Dad tries to hide it from you. I’m sorry to have worried you, but I’m okay. At this stage I’m in the south of WA, but I’m not sure I’ll stay here long.
In fact, I really have no idea what I’m going to do, but I needed to write and say I love you and I’m sorry.
I’ll be in contact with an address later.
Love, Dave
He sealed the envelope and wrote his mother’s name on it and Georgie and Jack’s address. As he sat in the ute, he looked out across the vivid blue of the ocean from a beach in a place called Esperance. He’d never heard of it before, but it was pretty and he’d heard there was lots of work at seeding time.
Maybe he’d stay here for a while, or maybe he’d move on. Maybe one day he wouldn’t be so angry and he’d be able to go home. But not now.
Not for a long time.
A Farmer's Choice Page 3