Flaxmead

by Brian Cain

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  The Janeiro Coffee investigation team arrived in the valley and talked with Nathan Crookborn. Attempts to find the management crew from Greedy Piggy Creek had been fruitless. There was no answer at their home phones and their mobiles were turned off. A Visit to the mine offices found the team missing and emails directed to personnel department in Brisbane delivered resignations previously denied by Crookborn.

  Keith Richardson, Rutland Girdwood, John Gifford and Wesley Cleland had arranged to meet for a winery tour next day taking their wives. They planned and discussed their interviews next week at different coal mines around the valley. They hired a stretch limousine as they had never done such a thing together, they never had the time, a burden had been lifted from their shoulders and they felt enlightened.

  As they rolled out of Cessnock the panic at Greedy Piggy Creek was the furthest thing from their minds. A visit to Hunter Valley Gardens then along Broke road to Shangri La. They tasted some wine it was lunch time then sat on the benches by the car park under the trees admiring the view of the vines and valley. Two well dressed senior gentlemen were sat on the adjacent bench with the same idea a picnic lunch on a fine autumn day. The clan politely asked if they minded the close intrusion and Wilson rose assisting the ladies to take a seat. They all settled after exchanging names and greetings using first names. The clan mentioned Crookborn and the senior citizens listened in with interest. After fifteen minutes of discussion amongst the clan they talked about moving on.

  Wilson whispered to Bartholomew. "Good god, the entire management team from Greedy Piggy Creek. They've terminated, what an earth has happened. I can't believe it. Crookborn came in yesterday. We must hold them here and find out more."

  The clan rose to leave when Girdwood noticed Flaxmead in the holding yard nestled in the creek line below them.

  "Jeepers that can't be that horse, Flaxmead," said Rutland.

  His wife shielded her eyes peering down the valley across the vines and though the white cockies on the wing. "I think you're right but it can't be the Fields live further along the road towards Broke."

  Bartholomew stood up. "Indeed it is he madam, would you like to see him." The clan became excited milling around the senior pair as they offered a direction between the vines.

  "Excellent Bartholomew," whispered Wilson. "Reel them in and I'll fetch Winston." He shuffled off towards the offices as the clan walked toward the stable complex between the vines. Bartholomew summoned Jessica, she settled Flaxmead before bringing him as close as she care to the rail only a few metres from them. No one said anything for a while they just looked.

  "Good, what a beast. I can't believe little Lindy Cumberland rides that thing." said Rutland.

  "Her owners Anna twelve and Dylan nine ride him around all the time. He loves them," said Jessica.

  "He doesn't look real, like an animal from a terminator movie, you know. Perfectly decorated skin over nuclear powered metal robotic skeleton," remarked Wesley.

  Jessica laughed out loud. "I've neve hear him described like that before. He's just a horse that likes to run fast. He loves food, children and running faster than other horses, and running around in open paddocks like an idiot."

  "Wow I've been right next to him, the hunter valley thunderbolt," said John Gifford as if he was super privileged.

  "You're the first people I've ever seen permitted down here," replied Jessica. "Mr Hornswaddle and Mr Fothrington must think a lot of you."

  Bartholomew stood in the background in the shade of a gum a few metres behind them. The clan looked around at him when Jessica mentioned their names.

  "Jesus Christ we're standing in the middle of the Hunter Valley Peoples Lobby Group, said Keith. I thought Id seen those jokers somewhere before."

  Bartholomew walked closer. "I'm terribly sorry, yes I'm Bartholomew Fothrington the gentleman on his way down here is Wilson Hornswaddle. The man with him is Winston Blake. We've been lifelong friends, got a bit tied up with what's going on in the valley here and bought a few businesses to keep us busy what."

  Keith was laughing. "I'll never forget you threatening to turn Greedy Piggy Creek into a goldfish farm and have us all give rides on equipment to valley tourists wearing clown suits."

  "Who said it was a threat, we were quite serious, meet Winston Blake he'd make it work," said Bartholomew. Winston and Wilson exchanged greetings with the clan.

  Flaxmead began to strut around the holding yard prancing and rearing up giving Jessica a hard time. They all turned around to see what the fuss was. "You're not watching him so he's putting on a show. He likes to be the centre of attention!" shouted Jessica as she struggled to control him.

  "What's he doing in the middle of a winery?" asked Keith.

  "It's a long story," said Winston. "Look we'd like to talk to you people would you accept an invitation to dine at the gardens restaurant this evening on the way back from your tour."

  "Why not stay and have a yarn now wed like to have a look round the winemaking process and taste a few more wines. You invited us down here without hesitation and with open arms. I don't know about the others but I feel very welcome," said Keith's wife Rhonda. The clan nodded and agreed, they walked back through the vines up the hill towards the wine complex acknowledging Flaxmead before they left.

  A guided tour of the wine making facilities at Shangri La and the clan had a barrage of questions about things they had wondered about for years as they drove past the wineries. Being part of the coal industry they ostracised themselves from parts of valley life critical of their occupation, and they never had the time. A couple of hours and some more tasting and Wilson, Blake and Bartholomew had inside information way outside of trusted privilege. They also found common concern of the effects of gas fracking in the valley from persons they had believed to be the instigators.

  "That's why we all decided to try something else, the board had already decided to push ahead with an affiliate gas venture. Rutland was the first to walk and within ten minutes we'd all pulled the pin. After twenty five years was a bit of a shock but no regrets. Open cut mining has been here a long time and we still have problems containing dust and contaminating water but it's got a lot better," said Wesley Cleland

  "I think it's a shame," replied Winston.

  "As I," added Bartholomew.

  "Really, why?" asked Rutland.

  "Greedy Piggy Creek is the closest mine to Shangri La and Loudbark. Look across the valley from the top of the hill and you will just see the mine. Two years ago I'm told you couldn't. Now we have Crookborn open to change the structure of the management possibly all from outside the valley. I know a lot of people rely on the coal mines to survive and have worked there for years. With Crookborn our only alternative is to attack them financially and gain control. All the workers jobs would be in jeopardy. I've meet some of these people at race meetings and frankly I wouldn't like to see that happen. Crookborn will just encourage confrontation and use the government. With people like you gone the avenue for negotiation is a one way street. It would be out of the people's hands in the stock market and financial halls many miles from here. This is of concern for all, if it becomes a battle of the rich and famous Crookborn will loose," said Bartholomew.

  "You value our input," asked Rutland.

  "Absolutely," added Winston.

  Keith Richardson jumped in. "We were all emotionally driven, now the entire management structure may be external. Crookborn could then drive his agenda without opposition. I just didn't want to see it happen but I couldn't stand by and watch. He's pushing gas to raise revenue, the rail line and coal loaders in the port can't take any more coal so expansion is futile at present. The gas will end up firing the power stations here and the coal can then go overseas. The government will rave about green gas power as a feather in their cap and gain revenue form increased exports."

  "For the next twenty four hours this would have backfired on Crookborn until he can get people in who he trusts. Janeiro Coffee's
human resources department would be swarming all over GPC right now. With this election thing and the lobby group on the go it's very touchy. I think you've made your point and some people there would be pleased to see you," added Wilson.

  "Were getting more support from you than we would from Janeiro," said John Gifford.

  "I tell you what, you people, any of you can come and see us here anytime. Take all our mobile phone numbers and we'll talk to you day or night. Wherever you end up we have common goals," added Wilson.

  "Come hare anytime, that's dangerous I'm half sloshed now," said Rhonda Richardson.

  They all started toward the car park, Wilson nodded to Bartholomew, he nodded back and edged Rutland Girdwood towards the edge to the car park under the gum trees using a last look at Flaxmead as an excuse. "I railroaded you over here for a reason Rutland. From conversation I find you think the world of the workforce at GPC. I'm going to mention something about Raglan Crookborn that may come in handy. Just mention the fact you know this and Crookborn will suddenly become pliable or disappear. Although what I tell you is hard to believe that someone would do such a thing, it is indeed true and should the evidence ever be required we can sent you in the right direction."

  Rutland turned one ear closer to Bartholomew. "Really, fire away."

  The clan were climbing into the stretch limousine, they had to wake the driver. Keith looked around for Rutland noticing he was absent. "Rutland is a bit taken by Flaxmead I think, come on Rutland we're heading off!"

  Bartholomew and Rutland walked back to the limousine, they shook hands before Rutland climbed in with the clan a stern look on his face and the door closed. The vehicle headed gracefully down the hill towards the main road. Rutland leant over to the driver. "Take us to GPC operations complex in the mine site!"

  "What are you doing Rutland, we can't go to GPC especially in this thing," asked Keith.

  "I promised never to repeat what I just heard, except to one bloke. If you think I'm going to leave a bloke like that in charge of a mine in my garden think again. Cant this thing go any faster!"

  They arrived at the administration block it was mid afternoon, Elaine Spiers head of personnel for Janeiro in Australia had tried to contact the four all day. Rumours among the workforce had filtered down to the ground level operations and members of the workforce were looking for clues everywhere they could. Rutland walked directly into the office complex and found Elaine Spiers working from his office. She was relieved to see him when he found his door unlocked and walked in.

  "Rutland, we've been trying to contact you all day to try and clear a few things up."

  "Elaine, long times no see."

  "Do you know where Keith, John and Wesley are?"

  "Yes, outside with our wives. Have you seen Crookborn?"

  "He's in Keith's office, can."

  Before Elaine could finish her question. "Could you excuse me please," Rutland walked out of the office and just down to corridor to Keith's office. He opened the door and burst in closing it behind him, leaning on the closed door with his back.

  Crookborn was pacing up and down talking on his mobile phone in front the desk. He blocked the phone mouthpiece with his thumb. "Do you mind Girdwood I'm just talking to your replacement?"

  "Yes I do mind, I've just been talking to Bartholomew Fothrington"

  Crookborn's face got a pale stone look about it and his left eye twitched. He put the phone back to his ear. "Can I call you back shortly," he closed the phone and put it in his top pocket. "I'm calling security and having you removed."

  "Fine, I haven't seen my brother in law and cousin Rowland for days,"

  "I forget how inbreed some things are round here, wonder some employees don't have six fingers."

  "Listen to this Raglan. When I'm finished you can walk out of here and not come back or with some help you'll be finished in twenty four hours. I don't mean just finished here I mean hunted by authorities. The past has come back to haunt you." Crookborn's face became expressionless as Rutland continued.

  Elaine had found the rest of the clan in the car park and got a few answers to questions she had been looking for. She remained calm but inside a fit of rage festered. She asked them inside but they refused as they had been drinking. Elaine excused herself and headed for Keith's office. As she got to the door it was opened by Rutland and Crookborn walked out with his brief case. "I've been unexpectedly called away Elaine, I'm sure you want to talk to Rutland here to try and sort a couple of things out," said Crookborn. He briskly walked to the car park avoiding contact with the clan, got in his car and left never to be seen again.

  "I need to talk to you Rutland," asked Elaine.

  "About what?"

  "We have resignation emails from John, Wesley and you. Nathan gave me a letter form Keith. What an earth is going on here,"

  "They may be a sign of the mood about the place. If you choose to accept mine then that's okay, I understand. Now if you could just excuse me I need to be seen by the team."

  "Under the circumstances the documents don't follow policy, I have no detailed post interview because there hasn't been one."

  "Don't rabbit on Elaine, forget it and get on with it or well be here all week."

  "Done, what about the others?"

  "I have no idea, why don't you go see them?"

  "They wont come in they've been drinking."

  "Drinking, my wife stopped drinking this afternoon when she found out she could pour it down her throat courtesy of Shangri La winery."

  "You've been in Shangri La, Loudbark and Shangri La is the centre of the anti coal Lobby. Did they know who you are?"

  "Yes, had a big chin wag with Wilson Hornswaddle and Bartholomew Fothrington."

  "Good God, you can talk to them?"

  "Yes we exchanged phone numbers."

  "Oh wow, when I take this back to the office I'll be a legend." Rutland burst out laughing. "I need to go see the others," she trotted off down the corridor toward the car park.

  Rutland walked to the team muster areas greeting people as he passed. He ran into Kerry Snow and two equipment operators from his crew. "Hi fellas how we sitting with production targets today?"

  "We heard you left us," enquired Kerry.

  "Unusual to hear a rumour in a coal mine," replied Rutland. "If you haven't heard one by ten o'clock make one up. Sounds like a ten o one job."

  "Bit over dressed for work aren't you," asked Kerry.

  "Been on a mission, four of the team have been out seeing how much wine their wives can hold," replied Rutland. He picked up an apple out of Kerry's lunch box shinned it on his shirt lapel and took a bite.

  "How'd they go?" asked Kerry.

  "Yeah, they hold a lot but not very well. As you fill them up they get a bit top heavy and topple over." The three laughed then Rutland touched on common ground and all was forgotten. "I saw Flaxmead, he was right in front of me, and I could feel his breath on my face."

  "You're joking, where?" asked one of the operators.

  "In a winery," replied Rutland with a grin.

  "Which Winery," asked Kerry.

  "If I tell you I'd have to kill you," chuckled Rutland. "I can tell you he made the draw for the JJ Liston Stakes at Caulfield to."

  "I didn't know that," replied Kerry. "How'd you find that out?"

  Rutland sat down put his feet up on the table and half chewed Kerry's apple. "You have to know these things when you're manager you know."

  "Jesus, feel like I'm in a Monty Python sketch with bad actors," chuckled Kerry.

  The operators shot to their feet gathering up their lunch boxes. "We gotta go," said one of them.

  Rutland put his feet down and looked at his watch. "You haven't finished your lunch yet."

  "I gotta get down the pit before Kerry, with this information I'll be god for the rest of the day. We'll have to get hold of coaches before the Fixed Hole mob and work out what shifts are off and who can have leave. Well send someone to pick you up Kerry we need
your bus." The operators scurried away.

  "You got em going now Rutland," laughed Kerry.

  Rutland shrugged his shoulders "I didn't get em going, a horse did."