Long Valley Road

by Ross Richdale

  He sat back and gazed around at the familiar furniture, ornaments, cushions and even the cups Claire had used to pour the coffee into. They were half a world from home but everything was here. They could have shifted a couple of blocks to a ranch house in the United States. The big difference from their old home, though, was that the sky was crystal clear and it was mid summer.

  His mind drifted back and a melancholy expression appeared. Anne was the one who'd suggested the big move in the first place. It was ten years since their ranch was threatened by developers and they'd held out for years, too long, perhaps. Anne would never see the result of all their efforts. One small lump on her breast that she hid from him until it was too late did all the damage. She had refused treatment that may have prolonged the inevitable for a few months.

  A soft hand touched his shoulder. "Thinking of Anne aren't you, John?" Fiona whispered. "I'm proud of you and everything you've done. After working for twenty years, you pulled your father's ranch back from the verge of bankruptcy and won that frightful court case against your useless brother. Now, you have this fine freehold property to show for your efforts."

  "Thanks Fiona," John replied. His marriage to Anne been stressful but especially in the earlier years had been happy but now... John sighed and switched his attention to Gerard who held a plate of food under his chin.

  "Thanks," he smiled and took a tomato and cucumber sandwich. "My mind was a million miles away."

  *

  CHAPTER 2

  Reid Platters, the temporary manager of John's farm, was an agricultural degree student. He lived in the farm cottage; a small house tucked on a rise above the road a couple of hundred metres away and across from the local tiny country school. He was, therefore, unaffected by John's arrival in the main house and it didn't take much to persuade him to remain with them until late February when the new university semester began. This was a wise decision as Reid had an excellent knowledge of New Zealand sheep farms and the intricacies of Top Oasis in particular.

  As Gerard had said, the farm was under stocked but without the burden of a heavy mortgage the previous owner had, could provide a modest income, even with the current depressed meat and wool prices. The season's lambs had been sold at a higher than expected price and shearing was complete. Two paddocks, as Reid called the fields, had been cut for hay and one other was ready for cutting. A local contractor baled the hay that was stored in a hay shed, really just an iron roof held up by eight steel poles. Unlike at home, there was no large barn, as the animals did not need to be held inside during the winter months. Two hundred beef cattle supplemented the three thousand sheep on the property.

  The farm consisted of steep hills with a farm track that provided access up to a top plateau. Along the back boundary was another road, narrow and used so little that grass grew along the middle. Beyond, the land dipped back down into a steep bush filled gorge with a mountain stream at the bottom. Water was pumped from the stream to three large concrete tanks on the plateau and, from there, gravity fed back to the farm paddocks and buildings. In Reid's opinion, the farm needed top dressing and spraying to rid the land of thistles and many fences were in need of upgrading. Otherwise, it was in excellent condition.

  "Those small plantations of pine trees on the steeper slopes throughout the farm help to prevent slips," he commented as he drove the ancient Land Rover that came with the farm, along the dusty track high above the farm house, "Have a look at the Blackburn farm the next time you go to town. It has no trees and tiny slips are everywhere. This country is prone to slips,"

  "I noticed the trees and thought that might be the case. There's quite a plantation over there." John nodded to his left.

  "Newson's place, your neighbour and brother of your predecessor," Reid replied. “Did you hear about Hamish and Diane Newson?"

  "Not really." John glanced across up at his companion. "The agent just rang and said this property had come available through a mortgagee sale and was I interested? I had a tentative offer on a property further south but, in my opinion, it was overpriced so I decided to buy here instead."

  "The silly bugger shot himself," Reid explained. "There's been a rash of suicides of farmers in the country over the last year or so."

  John grimaced. "Did he? I didn't know."

  "Third or forth generation farmer, he was," Reid continued. "His old man wasted the place away but was too miserable to hand it on to Hamish. Anyhow, to cut a long story short, the father dropped dead a decade back and left this farm to Hamish and his brothers." Reid grunted and pulled a wide floppy hat down over his eyes to shield out the blazing sun. "Bloody mean move, actually. The brothers had left home years ago and Hamish had worked on a pittance for his father since he'd left school. He arranged two large mortgages to buy one brother out just as farm incomes dropped. Two other brothers own farms in the valley. It was originally one massive estate." He shrugged and continued. "Anyway, when the bank was about to foreclose Hamish just went up to the top pump shed and blew his brains out. Mind you, he'd been depressed for months and Diane really ran the place.”

  "How tragic!" John shook his head in sympathy. "I've heard of similar situations back home. What happened to the wife?"

  "She tried to cope for a while but the banks still wanted their money, your tender at the mortgagee sale was accepted and I was approached to manage the place until you arrived. The last I'd heard, she'd shifted to Auckland."

  They reached a level section when a four wheeled farm bike followed by a cloud of dust came roaring towards them. It jerked to a stop beside the now stationary Land Rover and Julie pulled a crash helmet off her face. Helen, also enclosed in a helmet, clung on behind her big sister and stared at her father with twinkling eyes.

  "Grandma said the coffee pot is brewing, Daddy," she called. "Come and get it. You too, Reid."

  John frowned at the pair. "You be careful, Julie," he scolded. "And don't you dare go up the steep trail with Helen on the back. It's too dangerous."

  "I wasn't, Dad," Julie replied with a pout and turned back to her sister. "Hang on Helen," she shouted and revved the motor. Clouds of blue smoke filled the air, the farm bike circled out over the paddock and headed back towards the house.

  John laughed. "She's got to know the girl next door, found out nobody over six calls their father Daddy in New Zealand so it's now Dad, whether I like it or not. They learn fast, don't they?"

  "Sure do," agreed Reid and started the Land Rover forward again. "You said Julie's only twelve and is still at primary school?"

  "That's right," John answered. "She's quite mature for her age, I guess. She was at junior high at home but I was told the local primary schools take children to Year 8, the class she'll be in. Next year we'll have to send her to a boarding school and I'm glad she's home for this year." he chuckled. "Helen's thrilled her big sister will be at the same school as herself."

  "Same room, too," Reid grunted.

  "How come?" John frowned.

  "It's another long story," the manager replied. "I'll tell you about it some time but briefly, half the kids have left Long Valley School, the roll has dropped below twenty and they've lost the second teacher. It's what we call a sole charge at the moment and the rumour is the school will close at the end of the first term."

  "That's bad news," John muttered. "That was one thing I checked out before I bought the property. I was assured there was schooling available."

  "There still will be," Reid explained. "They'll run a bus through to Junction Road School in the next valley. That's where many of the valley kids are going, anyway, especially those living further up the road from here."

  "I see," John replied. "That's a relief."

  The conversation changed back to farm topics and, John diverted his attention to other items. There was so much to learn in a new country. The next day, though, the news about the local school was going to return to his notice and alter his family's lives in the weeks ahead.

  *

  During their fi
rst two weeks at Top Oasis neighbours dropped in to introduce themselves and welcome the Americans to the district. Most appeared typical country folk who tended to be closer to Fiona's age than John's. One of the younger ones was a woman in her thirties called Linda McLean who drove in one afternoon with three young children. She sent her children to find Julie and Helen, accepted an offer of a drink of coffee, sat down and began talking.

  "We've got a car pool going to take the children to school. I thought you might like to participate," she began in an even more British accented voice than the usual New Zealand one. "Bruce and Janice Cheever are running such a wonderful program at their school. They're a husband and wife teaching team who do a simply marvellous job." She stopped and sipped her coffee. "Diane who was here had joined the car pool before she left. Sad situation with Hamish... I guess you heard about poor Hamish. Mind you he'd ...

  "Yes," interrupted Fiona.

  John frowned. "Why do you need a car pool?" he asked. "The school's only five hundred yards up the road. In the summer the kids could just walk there."

  "Not that school, John." Linda McLean rolled her eyes. “We all support Junction Road School now. When the local ones closes we'll be able to apply for a proper bus service." She sighed. "Let's hope that happens before winter."

  "I see," John replied with an unusual coldness in his voice. "So you want us to bypass the local school for one a half hour's drive away?"

  Linda McLean hesitated. "It's your decision, of course, but I need to tell you your oldest daughter in particular, won't like it at Long Valley School. She'd be the only pupil in Year 8 and the teacher there..." She shrugged, "Well, you know!"

  "No I don't know, Mrs. McLean," John said. "Sure, I've heard a few rumours but I wish to form my own decision about the teacher and school and not depend on biased opinions. Wouldn't you agree?"

  The woman flushed. "Of course," she muttered, “but if you want to send your girls over to Junction Road, I just wanted to let you know about the car pool."

  *

  "John," Fiona scolded after their neighbour had made a hasty departure. "You were almost rude to that woman. I know she gossips a little but she is a neighbour."

  "The old bat," he retorted. "I can't stand those over bearing woman. If she spent her time getting fit and losing weight instead of gossiping she'd be better off. Damned if I'm going to bypass the local school because she had a difference of opinion with the teacher."

  "I heard two views," Fiona added. "Half the valley supports Kylena and half are trying to have the school closed down under her."

  "Kylena?"

  "Kylena Delton, the principal and only teacher at Long Valley School. I heard there would be only twelve children enrolled this coming term compared with twenty three last year."

  "Oh, how come?" In spite of himself, John was interested.

  "Three went off to high school and four families are sending their kids to Junction Road. Two other families already shifted across a few months back. One was the McLean family."

  "And you know why, don't you Fiona?" John said and grinned. His mother-in-law was as good as anybody at picking up the local gossip.

  "Not really," she replied. "There was a big bust up last year. The locals reckoned Miss Delton wasn't teaching their kids very well. Also there was a big lout of a boy who tried to run the show and the teacher put him on a three-day suspension over something. Unfortunately, he was the Board of Trustees chairman's son and the father didn't appreciate his son being reprimanded. He resigned from the board and withdrew his three children." She grinned. "The boy responsible for all the trouble is off to some snobby boarding school this year."

  "Sounds like home," John chuckled and glanced up. "Tell me, is this Miss Delton back in the school house yet?"

  "School starts the last Monday in January. I've heard she'll be back next Wednesday."

  "And you said Linda McLean gossips." John laughed. "How did you find out so much in such a short time?"

  Fiona grinned. "The Country Women's Institute had a meeting in the local hall yesterday and invited me along. I think everyone wanted to know about the Yanks who bought the Newson property. The fact you paid cash for the place made a few eyebrows rise."

  "So we have the snobs here, too?"

  "Most of them are pleasant and couldn't be friendlier," Fiona retorted. "

  *

  It was the following Thursday morning when John and the girls arrived at Long Valley Road School in the ancient Land Rover. Bella, the farm's bearded collie and already a family pet, sat at the rear barking.

  John had originally intended calling at the adjacent schoolhouse but noticed the school windows and doors were open so drove up to the school instead. It consisted of two old classrooms that had been modernized with large windows added along the front, several small outbuildings, a tennis court, field and a swimming pool behind a tin fence in the corner. Neatly cut lawns and a flower garden completed the scene.

  "You stay here girls," he said. "I'll see who's there and come back and get you."

  "Sure, Dad," Julie replied. She grinned at Helen and reached back to pat the dog.

  John walked through the open door that led directly into one classroom and gave a mental gasp. The room was covered in bright pictures, paintings, children's work and colourful charts that stretched up to the ceiling. As well, several mobiles of fish, obviously the children's work, hung suspended from the ceiling. Under the far windows was a sink unit with containers of paint and other art gear arranged in plastic trays and glass bottles.

  John stepped further in but found the room empty. Twenty or more children's desks were arranged in three groups with smaller ones on the left and large ones at the back. Two computers sat along another wall behind a teacher's desk. In the far corner, a wood burner stood with a stainless steel chimney that reached up through the sloped ceiling.

  The whole place smelt of cleanliness and furniture polish and gave John an immediate sense of security. "Hello!" he called in a quiet voice. "Is anyone here?"

  An inside door opened and a young woman with an expectant look in her eyes appeared with a cloth in her hand. John smiled and studied the new arrival. She was of average height and weight, wore shorts and brief top and was bare footed. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail.

  "I'm sorry," she gasped in her soft New Zealand accent. John noticed an apprehensive twitch of the chin. "I wasn't expecting anybody."

  "Miss Delton?" John asked.

  "Yes," she replied but didn't relax.

  “I'm John Berg and have come to enrol my two daughters. I guess you can tell we're American but we have a residency permit and our girls are allowed to attend a local school."

  "You want to send your children here?" the teacher replied almost as if she didn't believe what she was hearing.

  "Sure, why not?" John answered.

  The woman broke into a smile, stepped forward and held out her hand. "Call me Kylena," she said. Her handshake was firm and, when the apprehension disappeared, she looked a very attractive person. "I heard you had arrived in the district but thought Linda McLean would have called on you."

  "Oh she did," John chuckled, "However, I'm a person who is prepared to make my own mind up about situations." He swung his hand out and glanced around the room. "So far, I am impressed. American schools would never have this amount of displayed work on their walls."

  Kylena flushed and bit on her lower lip. "I do my best," she muttered and blue eyes caught John's for a second before dropping. "That's all one can do." She was about to add something but hesitated and walked over to her desk. "You have two daughters, is that right?"

  "Yes, Julie's twelve and was in Grade 7 home. I heard that is Year 8. Helen's our after thought. She's six, that is Year 2 here, I believe."

  "And you know there are no other older pupils on the roll?" The doubt crept in the woman's voice again. "Our oldest are two ten year old boys in Year 6." She shrugged. "There were four in the senior classes but they are
going to Junction Road this year."

  " I heard," John answered. "The girls and I talked it over and see no reason why we shouldn't come here. After all, why go ten miles when you're only a few yards up the road. We're your closest farm." He coughed. "I've got the girls' last school report papers here and the immigration documents," John added. " They're out in the Land Rover now."

  "Then bring them in." Kylena's eyes warmed. "I'd like to meet them."

  Julie and Helen appeared looking quite shy but responded well when Miss Delton chatted away, showed them the desks and other items around.

  "Are you on the Internet, Miss Delton?" Helen asked as she lifted a computer mouse into her hand.

  "We are," the teacher said. "Everyone has a turn and we get some of our work from Massey University in Palmerston North." She glanced at John. "We've joined a rural technology group and student teachers visit us to follow up programs that come in from their web site. So even though Julie will be the only Year 8 she will have contact with other pupils her age in twenty or more rural schools right throughout the country." She sounded enthusiastic. "A school in Victoria, Australia is even linked in with us."

  "That's great!" Julie said.

  "I'm sure you'll enjoy it." Kylena Delton replied. Her face, though, clouded over and the blue eyes looked again into John's. "That was one thing the locals objected about."

  'Using modern methods?"

  "A waste of money playing around on computers instead of getting stuck into reading and writing stories," Kylena mimicked. She frowned and stopped as if she had said too much. “I’m sorry," she continued. "I must remain neutral."

  "And the customer is always right." John laughed.

  "Exactly." The teacher and coughed in embarrassment. "Anyhow, thank you for coming along. School starts a nine o'clock on Tuesday. See you girls then... Oh yes, I almost forgot," She reached across, took two sheets from a drawer and handed one to each of the girls. John was impressed how she always drew the girls into their conversation. "Here's book list of this year's new exercise books. You can buy them in town or from the school. We have a discounted price but are not as cheap as in the big stores in Palmerston North, I'm afraid."