‘I tried to stop her, sir, but –’
‘It’s alright, Andrew,’ replied the stranger as Edwina reached him.
Andrew loitered for a few moments and then returned to his post.
The men in the room complained immediately at her presence. Edwina’s sweaty grip tightened on the papers she held. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. Some of the diners seated at damask-covered tables stood at the intrusion while others clustered together in condemnation. Only one man remained disinterested in the disturbance. He stood at the long bar, back to the room, running a tumbler in circles across the counter.
The man in front of her introduced himself as Tom Clyde, a friend of her father’s and visitor to Wywanna. ‘I’m s-sorry to hear of your father’s illness. Is he v-very unwell?’
Edwina smiled gratefully. ‘Restricted to the house, Mr Clyde,’ she tried to ignore the stares, ‘but improving, hence the reason for my visit.’
‘Well, unfortunately Andrew is r-right, Miss Baker, this is a m-men-only establishment. You probably sh-should leave.’ He indicated the front door.
His was a fleeting appraisal. It contained no hostility, more a certain amusement at what Edwina knew was her boldness. In comparison, the other members were not so courteous. The word outrageous was mentioned and then, to Edwina’s embarrassment, the phrase circus theft was uttered. Surrounded by the keepers of the town and greater district, Edwina knew she should not have come to this place. Nor should she have considered going behind her father’s back and embarking on such a foolhardy venture. She was only a woman after all, and where a daughter may be silly enough to pit herself against a father’s wrath, engaging a roomful of judgemental men was quite another thing.
‘S-surely there is a family friend who could counsel you, M-Miss Baker,’ said Mr Clyde kindly. He waved distractedly around the room with its silver cutlery, curtained windows and disgruntled inhabitants. ‘Th-there are no committee members here this weekend. Perhaps in th-three weeks when the monthly meeting is s-set you could leave word for the President, Mr Worth.’ He took Edwina’s arm, directing her with a gracious determination towards the exit. ‘Who knows, your f-father may be much recovered by th-then.’
‘Wait on there,’ the loner called from the bar, skolling his drink and moving nonchalantly towards them.
Extricating herself from Mr Clyde’s grasp, Edwina stared. A line of grit showed on the brow of the nuggetty brown-faced stockman where dirt and sweat had recently dried. Edwina smelt rum on his breath, perspiration, saw the shadow of a beard hinting at an early rising.
‘This is Luke Gordon, Miss Baker.’
‘Hello.’ Edwina couldn’t help feel she was face to face with a legend.
‘I was just t-telling Miss Baker, Luke,’ explained Mr Clyde, ‘that sh-she had t-to leave.’
‘You’ve a problem, have you, miss?’ asked Luke.
Mr Clyde cleared his throat in irritation.
‘Edwina, Edwina Baker. I just wanted some advice. My father is sick.’ It was difficult not to appear as desperate as she felt. To be escorted from the Guild without having received any assistance would be the most horrifying of results. If she thought she was the subject of town gossip now, wait until this was discussed.
‘You better come and have a talk with me then, Edwina Baker. It’ll be right, Tom, you can tell Peter that it was me that broke the Guild’s rules.’ He gave Edwina a wink. ‘I’m not a member anyway.’
The office Luke led Edwina into displayed a brass plaque with the word President etched into it. He offered her a seat in one of two large leather chairs before perching on the edge of the substantial desk.
‘Thank you, Mr Gordon,’ said Edwina.
‘It’s Luke. They can be like a pack of dingoes, but they’re harmless enough.’
The room was grandly furnished with books and paintings and a large map of the world. Edwina sat like a reprimanded school-child, clutching her belongings, her spine ramrod straight, her eyes darting about the study.
‘One of the benefits of association,’ said Luke, alluding to his famous surname as he tapped the mahogany bureau. ‘Not that I’d want to be a member. My brother does the hobnobbing and, frankly, he’s much better at it than me. I never could stand the pretension that comes with the burden of supposed class, not in this land. If a person wants to be a toffy-nosed Englishman go back to the mother country I say.’
Edwina gathered her courage, recalled the humble origins of the Gordon family’s beginnings in Australia. ‘Your family were from Scotland?’
‘Crofters, poor-as. Started in the goldfields my father did. But most people know my family’s story. As for you,’ Luke crossed his arms, staring at her with interest, ‘I’m trying to fathom where you fit in, Miss Edwina Baker.’ He eyed her shrewdly. ‘Are you interested in climbing the bush hierarchy or just a woman needing some help? I’m hoping it’s the latter for after the exhibition you just put on you’ve made a poor start with what passes for this district’s establishment.’
‘I wanted some advice,’ her voice quavered.
‘On what?’
‘Land,’ Edwina said hopefully.
‘The buying or the selling of it?’
‘Buying.’
‘Go on.’
Edwina paused. What if, in sharing her thoughts, Luke Gordon took advantage of her knowledge? Worse, what if she were totally ignorant of the issues involved and he laughed in her face.
‘If you don’t tell me I can’t help, can I?’ said Luke.
She had to place her trust in someone. And so Edwina began explaining her idea of buying a prickly-pear-riddled property at low cost in the hopes that once the weed died she would be a wealthy landowner for little outlay. ‘It’s not that I want to take advantage of other people’s misfortune.’
Luke rubbed at the stubble on his chin. ‘Ever since that insect started to make a dent in the pear in ’25, people have been considering the possibilities. Now, don’t look like a child that’s about to throw the toys from her cot.’
‘I’m sorry. I thought –’
‘That you were on to something?’ Luke moved to the chair behind the desk. Rolling a cigarette, he lit it, exhaling thoughtfully. ‘You are. There is undoubtedly land available and owners desperate to sell. And people will be keen to sell you anything, Edwina. You realise there’s no money in the bush at the moment. Hasn’t been since around 1920 what with the slide in prices and the particularly wonderful dry weather that seems to have taken a liking to our country.’
‘We only grow wheat and hay.’ She admitted her ignorance.
‘Croppers, eh? Well, there are plenty living off rabbits and a few vegetables out here. Compared to folks in the city, we’re well off.’
‘Do you really think so?’
‘You’re not starving, are you? You’ve got a roof over your head. There’s plenty in the cities that don’t.’
Edwina hadn’t come to the Guild for a lesson in gratitude. She didn’t feel fortunate, although compared to some she obviously was.
‘As for your land, you have to consider a few things. Firstly, anything with a lot of pear is pretty much worthless even if it is starting to die off. Secondly, there’s no saying that this insect will kill all of it. Or that it won’t come back again. I’ve heard talk of large areas of pear dying but you have to know there is a risk. Then there’s the length of time involved in waiting for the plant to die and for the country to become productive again, fertile. No income,’ he emphasised. ‘Quite frankly there’s not much of an income for anyone in the bush at the moment.’
‘Except for you?’ Edwina knew she shouldn’t be so outspoken, but the Gordons owned huge tracts of land and ran thousands of cattle.
He blew smoke into the air. ‘Say what you think, don’t you?’
Edwina didn’t reply.
‘I’m all for straight talking.’ Stubbing out the cigarette, Luke lifted a leg, resting it across the edge of the desk; a clump of manure was stuck to the sole
of his boot. ‘We’ve made plenty. Cattle producers were contracted to the Empire during the war. Bully-beef they needed and we gave it to them. Twenty pounds a bullock. But the gravy train finished with the end of the bloodbath in 1918. Now cattle are worth a pittance. It’s the same with wool. So, say you buy yourself a pear block on the cheap, Edwina, but commodity prices remain dirt-low. How long are you prepared to wait for a return on the money invested? For an income? Can you afford to?’
Edwina looked at the papers in her lap. How was she meant to answer all those questions?
‘If you’ve not the stomach for the risk, I’ll understand. It takes guts to work the bush, Edwina, and more than a sprinkling of good luck to make a go of it. Do you have money?’ asked Luke.
‘Yes. Quite a lot.’
‘You’d need around forty thousand pounds.’
Edwina wasn’t willing to share how much money was at her disposable, at least not yet. ‘Go on,’ she said.
Luke gave an interested smile. ‘A woman with looks and money, and you’re not married. Considering the shortage of women in the outback you’re a curiosity, to say the least.’
‘What would you do if you were me, Luke?’ asked Edwina, ignoring the probing question. ‘I mean, I have money and I wanted to put it somewhere safe. Somewhere worthwhile.’
Luke wrinkled his nose a couple of times, moved his leg from the desk, the manure dropping onto the floor. ‘Buy land. There are banks and shares and businesses, but you’re relying on other people to take care of your funds, and what happens if they can’t? If they go bust? Sure, you can live off a bit of interest and stare at the cash figure in a ledger, or you can stash it in a tin under your bed, but what have you got? What are you contributing to? What are you leaving behind when you’ve gone? Have you made anything, grown anything? Tended anything? Tried your best to stake a claim in a wild land? Because I have, and by God it’s the greatest thing I’ve ever done. These are the questions you have to ask yourself. And when you do, and if you’re still interested, remember this well, Edwina. The bush is like a brown snake. If you’re not careful it’ll strike when least expected. And out here the bite is fatal.’
Edwina suppressed the bubble of anxiety rising within her. Setting the papers on the desk she walked about the room, conscious of the pair of eyes watching her. Good sense told her to thank Luke Gordon for his time and leave. But another part of her, the part that wanted to prove her ability, was tantalised by his words. She envisaged the sun setting over thousands of acres of untamed country. It was possible. The Gordons had done it. Why couldn’t the Bakers?
‘What do you want to grow, sheep or cattle?’ Luke was lighting another cigarette.
‘Either, I suppose.’
‘Well, I’d be the last one to go against cattle, but they’re tough to keep alive in a drought and even my brother can’t say what the future will bring when it comes to prices. And unlike our operation, you’ll be without the benefit of a number of runs for rotation and water as well, so I’d grow wool. I’ve never taken to lice feeders but if you want to make a go of this and you want my help that’s what I’d advise, take it or leave it.’
Edwina stopped pacing. ‘You would help me?’
Luke took a drag of the cigarette. ‘Why the hell not? I know who you are, about the caper you pulled at the circus, and I know your father’s a money-lender, and that you have a brother. I’m not condemning you, Edwina. A man sees a lot in life, but what he doesn’t often see is someone willing to have a go. A woman buying a station, well, I for one would love to be a part of that.’
‘I’ll not be anyone’s novelty.’
‘And I’m not coming along for the ride. If you purchase a station I’ll help you find a manager and I’ll keep an eye on the books, make sure you’re not swindled. But I want rights to keep two hundred horses there. We bred them during the war for the mounted troops and my half-brother, Angus, wants to be rid of them now. I like my horses. He doesn’t. I’ll lease the country from you. Now you better show me those papers you’ve been hanging on to for dear life.’
Ten minutes later Luke was circling an area on the map Han Lee had procured from the Lands Office. ‘Get away from the farmers with their crops and dairy cows. And the further west you go the further you are from the pear as well. Here.’ He tapped at the circle with a filthy ragged nail.
The location was west of Miles, past the town of Roma. Edwina studied the area. ‘But that’s miles away.’
‘About a hundred and fifty miles or so I’d reckon. It’s a good run, Edwina. The place grows Mitchell, Flinders and Blue grass and there’s fine herbage in an average year. The property was part of the government’s state-run pastoral empire, but many of the stations are up for sale. Gone broke through mismanagement. The rot set in with the cattle slump in 1920. They’ve been trying to sell them for the last few years. Priced too high they were but some of the smaller ones are now going for a song.’
‘How do you know so much about it?’
‘Just inspected it, last week, but Angus has his sights on a larger block further north. How much money do you actually have?’
‘How much do we need?’ countered Edwina, feeling conspiratorial.
‘Well, with Condo Station you’ll get around ten thousand head of cattle. Which we’ll sell and then buy in sheep. The fences are in good repair. The woolshed needs some work. There’s water frontage and a decent house. You’ll need extra funds for a manager and staff. And a bit in reserve, for who knows how long it will be before the markets improve. And if a dry spell hits you need enough to cover that as well.’ He held up a dirt-creased hand. ‘And don’t ask me how much, because my answer will be how long is a ball of twine. And if you decide to do this, don’t complain if your arse is out of your pants in a decade. Oops, slip of the tongue, apologies. I’m not used to dealing with women.’
Edwina was already thinking of Han Lee and the contribution his men could make. ‘You haven’t said a price, Luke.’
‘You haven’t said how much you have.’
Edwina bit her lip and then withdrew her father’s passbook from her handbag, sliding it across the desk.
Luke raised an eyebrow at the name on the passbook, before flipping through the pages.
‘Well?’ Edwina was beginning to feel sick with anticipation. ‘Is there enough?’
‘Yes,’ answered Luke, ‘there’s enough.’
Chapter Thirty-eight
Hamilton was sitting by the parlour window when Edwina finally returned home. He squinted in thought as Han Lee assisted her down from the buggy and Davidson got down from his horse as if he’d been riding shotgun. The three stood together talking.
‘Where have you been?’ called Aiden from the porch.
Edwina acknowledged the query with a wave.
‘I said –’
This was an interesting development. The Chinaman was staring blatantly at his son, with an expression that quite distinctly told him to be quiet. The boy obeyed. Only when Edwina’s business was finished did she walk towards the house as her companions left.
‘Where have you been, Edwina?’ asked Aiden again as they entered the parlour.
‘Hello, Father. How are you feeling?’ Edwina knelt by the chair, took one of his hands in hers.
‘Better.’
‘Good, I have seen the doctor.’ Edwina removed the gloves she wore. Hamilton noted they were her mother’s. When had his daughter become a woman?
‘You could have told us what you were doing instead of sneaking off,’ Aiden said in annoyance.
‘Aiden, you have done nothing but treat me poorly since Father took ill. There have been things requiring attention and as you took it upon yourself to take on the position of nursemaid, I had to assume the role of head of the household. Now, if you have nothing helpful to add, do be quiet.’
It was wrong to be entertained by squabbling children but Hamilton couldn’t help but be amused. Not only by Edwina’s new-found authority, which he was in two m
inds about, but by Aiden’s fury, which showed in pinking cheeks.
‘The doctor said we must get you up and walking about. Twice a day at least, Father, and he’s prescribed this tonic to purify the blood as well as Beecham’s Pills. And Han Lee has tea for you. An oriental concoction that he is sure will help you feel better.’
Hamilton grunted at the medicinal offerings. He could never quite take to the knowledge invested in a man who proposed himself an expert on the human body when everything he knew came out of a book. The Chinaman’s tea, however, was another matter. That he would drink. ‘Han Lee?’ asked Hamilton.
‘He came with me, Father, as did Davidson. Best I thought to have a proper escort.’
How proper it was to have an oriental driving the buggy for his only daughter Hamilton didn’t know. Edwina, however, was right in ensuring she was accompanied to Wywanna.
‘Should it be needed,’ continued Edwina, ‘Han Lee has agreed to help with harvest. He feels it may come in early with the growing heat and lack of rain and although it’s undoubtedly a good month away I felt it important to ask his assistance, although I’m sure you will be fully recovered by then. We will also only do half of the planned clearing. The cactoblastis seems to be working. So we’ll save our money and see how effective the insect is.’ She turned to her brother. ‘Aiden, you of course will oversee the work. We have to remember there is no money in the bush at the moment and with low prices and without the benefit of the secondary income provided by Father we have to be careful with our costs.’
Aiden flopped down into one of the chairs. ‘And now that you have so diligently taken over the running of the property, dear sister, what exactly do you intend to be doing?’
Hamilton felt the warmth of his daughter’s hand on a shoulder. ‘What I normally do, though outdoors my role will be more managerial.’
‘My, we have assumed all the trappings of leadership,’ Aiden quipped, looking to his father for backing. ‘I am the head of this household until Father is recovered. Isn’t that right, Father? As the eldest son it is my responsibility to assume the role. To run our business, to organise and instruct the workers.’
An Uncommon Woman Page 30
