Dear Plutocrat

by Anne Hampson

  Dear Plutocrat

  By

  Anne Hampson

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  DEAR PLUTOCRAT

  Mark Copeland could be the most desirable specimen of humanity that Kate had ever encountered—if he were not so pompous and plutocratic! He was the Boss of a huge Outback station; Kate owned a small adjoining piece of land that he wanted. Why shouldn't she sell it to him? he argued. But for more reasons than one, Kate was determined to resist him…

  First published 1973

  This edition 1973

  © Anne Hampson 1973

  ISBN 0 263 71430 6

  CHAPTER ONE

  Cherry was watching the eggs and the toaster, while Lindsay took care of the coffee. Kate was downstairs picking up the mail from the floor of the porch which served as the entrance to both lower and upper flats.

  'Toast's burning,' she said mechanically on re-entering the bright airy kitchen where the table was laid for breakfast. 'We shall have to speculate and get it repaired.'

  'The toast?' Lin's eyes were on the envelope which Kate had extracted from among Cherry's travel brochures and one or two bills.

  'So bright,' commented Cherry, shaking her head. 'And first thing in the morning too. How do you do it, Lin?'

  'Natural wit—' Breaking off as she noticed the frown on Kate's brow, Lin sent her a questioning glance. 'Something wrong?'

  'Hathersley and Waring. What can they want?'

  'Never heard of them.'

  'Solicitors,' added Kate, beginning to slit the envelope.

  'The landlord,' declared Cherry, pressing the button so that the toast popped up. 'He was so mad about all those antique plates we put on the walls. Twenty-seven holes he counted, in his lovely new plaster. I didn't expect him to send us a solicitor's letter, though. He seems far too mean for that sort of expense.'

  'I—I've to go and see them,' stammered Kate, staring at the letter in her hand. 'Will I please phone at my earliest convenience, when an appointment will be made immediately.' She continued to stare. What could a firm of solicitors want with her?

  'Very strange,' murmured Lin, her tall lanky figure immobile as she watched the coffee coming up to the boil. 'What on earth can it be?'

  'I should ring them immediately you get to work,' advised Cherry practically. 'Mr. Minehead will let you have some time off. Where do you have to go?'

  'Chester.'

  'It'll take you over an hour to get there.'

  'I'll ask Mr. Minehead if he'll let me take the afternoon off,' returned Kate, her big hazel eyes puzzled, and a trifle scared.

  The girls all left the flat together in the second-hand car they had bought between them a few months previously. Kate was dropped off at her office, then Lin drove on to the grammar school, where she taught biology and Cherry taught geography.

  Arriving home an hour later than the others, Kate saw at once that they were all agog to discover the reason for the solicitor's letter.

  'I own—I own a cattle station in—in the Outback of Australia!' she informed them, her eyes dazed and disbelieving as she stood there, just inside the door of the sitting-room where her two friends were drinking tea. 'It's like a dream,' Kate breathed huskily. 'A cattle station, of all things!'

  'A cattle station?' echoed the others in one voice. 'How the heck can that be?' added Lin, patting the place on the couch beside her. 'Give her some tea, Cherry. The poor girl looks ready to collapse.'

  'It's as b-big as Belgium,' faltered Kate, making her way to the couch despite the weakness in her legs. It was less than two hours since the information had been imparted to her and she was still in a state of turmoil, unable to take it in.

  'As—!' Lin shook her head emphatically. 'Never!'

  'That's what Mr. Waring said.' Kate sat down, going on to describe the solicitor. He was so old that his mind had wandered several times and Kate herself had been forced to bring him back to the reason for her being there, in his musty dimly-lit office.

  'Never mind the solicitor,' intervened Cherry gently. 'Tell us about this ranch you're supposed to own.'

  'Do you remember my ever mentioning a distant relation of my father, an old man who lived in Australia?' Her glance moved questioningly from Lin to Cherry, who was pouring her a cup of tea. Both girls shook their heads.

  'Always understood that neither your father nor your mother had any relations.' Another shake of Lin's head as, accepting the cup of tea from Cherry, she passed it to Kate. 'However, it would seem that you've inherited some property in Australia, and that it's come to you through this distant relation of yours. Right?'

  Kate nodded, grateful for the help since she scarcely knew where to begin, her mind still being in a state of considerable confusion. A ranch as big as Belgium. How terrifying!

  She sipped her tea, but soon began to relate all that had passed between her and Mr. Waring. This distant relative, David Gleaves, had set inquiries afoot some years previously and discovered he had one relative, Kate Beresford. He then made a will leaving the property and land to her and his money to a charity which he named. Being of a miserly disposition he had made the will out himself, but Mr. Waring assured Kate that it was quite legal.

  'A Mark Copeland has been managing the station for the past eight years,' continued Kate, 'as this David Gleaves was very old—ninety-six when he died. It was Mark Copeland who instructed his solicitors in Sydney to contact the Chester firm, as David Gleaves had once told him that I lived somewhere near Chester. This Mark Copeland would have my address, of course, but he would want to do everything in a businesslike manner, so he acted in the way I've just explained. Mark Copeland, who's an Australian, as was David Gleaves, owns a property adjoining that of Mr. Gleaves—er—mine,' she corrected, flushing at the amusement suddenly appearing on her friends' faces. 'And he wants to buy High Creek Station from me. High Creek Downs, it's called,' she corrected.

  'And do you propose selling?' Cherry held the teapot aloft, inviting second helpings.

  'Bottom half, please.' Lin spoke absently, her whole interest centred on what Kate's reply would be. A ranch… She had always yearned for the wide open spaces, ever since seeing her first Western at the age of six.

  'Of course,' and this was accompanied by a distinct shudder. 'What would I want with a cattle station as big as Belgium?'

  'How much has this Mark Copeland offered?' asked Cherry with her usual practicality of mind.

  'Mr. Waring hasn't yet received an offer—but I expect it will be an enormous sum,' breathed Kate in an awed voice.

  'I can't see it being as big as Belgium,' frowned Lin. 'No, Kate, that's quite impossible.'

  'Not impossible,' intervened Cherry mildly. 'Some of these estates are in fact over ten thousand square miles in extent.'

  'I can't imagine it, no matter how I try.'

  'Australia covers an area of almost three million square miles, remember, so an area as big as Belgium would be comparatively small.'

  It was a long while before Lin said, still with an element of disbelief in her voice.

  'So it is just possible that Kate's property could be as large as that?'

  'Certainly it could—although,' added Cherry, shaking her head and frowning slightly, 'this David Gleaves would have been excessively wealthy—among the cream of the graziers, in fact—if he owned a property of that extent. And that doesn't fit in at all with the saving of a couple of quid on a will.'

  'He was miserly,' Kate reminded her. 'At least, that's what Mr.
Waring said.'

  Cherry's grey eyes became pensive. She said, glancing up:

  'You're sure you have your facts right?'

  'Of course. Mr. Waring told me all about the thousands of cattle and the house, which is similar to a small Regency mansion.'

  Lin said after a pause:

  'Well, you won't be looking at people like us. And certainly you won't be remaining in this flat.' She looked away and so did Cherry. They had been together a long while, first becoming friends at school, then later going about together, and finally taking this flat and each subscribing to the furnishing of it.

  'I most certainly shall!' argued Kate on the instant. 'Money isn't going to interfere with my friendships—' She broke off and then added, a faintly hysterical note edging her voice, 'We'll be able to pay all our bills, and get the toaster repaired!'

  Cherry was at her usual place by the stove, watching the eggs and the toaster; Lin was making the coffee. Both turned as Kate entered with the letters which just a moment ago had been dropped on to the floor of the porch by the postman.

  'Yes,' said Kate, separating the air-mail letter from the rest. 'Here it is—' She sniffed. 'Toast's burning.'

  'From our Australian.' Cherry pressed the button and the toast popped up. 'His reply is prompt, at least. Wonder how he's taking to the idea of our going over there to run the place ourselves?'

  'Do be quick!' urged Lin, her long, angular face aglow, her brown eyes sparkling. She would never know how she and Cherry had managed to persuade Kate to go over to Australia and run High Creek Downs herself, nor would Kate ever know, for that matter. On learning of her inheritance her only desire was to sell out to this Mark Copeland, invest the money and, apart from indulging in a few luxuries, forget all about it. To be wealthy had no appeal for her in the least. She was happy and content in her job and with her friends, and all she wanted was to keep it that way. Yet the letter had been sent off to Mark Copeland, and Lin and Cherry had already given in their notices at school. 'I expect he's a trifle disappointed at not being able to buy the property.' Lin turned to Cherry, who was scraping the toast. 'Can you see us, living down under? Riding the range! Rounding up the cattle! Yippee! Already I can picture myself, all dressed up in my glamorous cowgirl outfit—'

  'They're stockriders,' quietly submitted Cherry, still scraping.

  'All right, if you must be so correct. In my stockrider's outfit, astride my magnificent charger, with a big hat and a tanned and toughened face!'

  'I've never seen a charger with a big hat and a tanned and toughened face.' Cherry frowned at the toast, which was now neither black nor brown, but a sort of dirty white. 'What does Mark Copeland have to say, Kate?'

  Silence. Both girls waited, their expressions puzzled as they watched their friend's face slowly become fused with colour. Kate had a temper… and it seemed very much as if it was beginning to rise. She said, eyes sparkling, voice quivering:

  'Well, what do you know about that!'

  'Nothing,' replied her two friends together.

  'The Outback is no place for women—'

  'No place for women?' blinked Lin. 'What sort of men are they then? All hermaphroditic?'

  Kate frowned.

  'Keep your biological terms for school, Lin. You've to get twenty-two reluctants through their "O" levels, remember.'

  'Twenty-one,' interposed Cherry. 'Sally Malony's as dim as that stove. Marriage is the only future for her. Go on, what else does that great hulking brute of an Australian have to say?'

  'He is staggered—' Kate's voice vibrated with wrath. 'Staggered! Note that word, my friends. It sticks in my gullet!'

  'Kate,' murmured Cherry, placing the loaded toast rack on the table, 'we're never going to get to work.'

  'Staggered that three Englishwomen—women, mark you, not girls—should for one moment contemplate taking over the holding—' A hissing sound as Kate breathed in sharply. 'Holding, if you please. A ranch as big as Belgium! How big is his place, I'd like to know!' She glared at the paper, which fluttered as her hand shook with anger.

  'As big as Denmark, Holland and Belgium put together, I shouldn't wonder,' submitted Lin, 'just to match his head!'

  'No doubt we've read glamorous descriptions of the Outback and, therefore, attach an element of romance to it—'

  'Sure we have,' interrupted Lin. 'Right from the first I've had visions of being swept off my stallion by a great weatherbeaten hunk of Outback manflesh!'

  A deep sigh from the long-suffering Cherry, as she stood by the table, every bit the schoolmistress, endeavouring to bring recalcitrant children to heel.

  'It is now ten minutes past eight,' she reminded Kate and Lin in precise tones.

  'But there is no romance whatsoever attached to the Outback,' continued Kate, her eyes on the bold handwriting which in itself seemed to stamp the writer as a man of inordinate arrogance and pomposity. 'On the contrary, it's a hostile land, full of pitfalls for the unwary. Also, have I noted the size of the property, and compared it with others in the Outback? Running a place like High Creek would be far more difficult than, for example, running a station like his—'

  'Must have a piffling little place after all,' cut in Lin. 'Yet how can he have sufficient money to buy a place like yours?' she added, puzzled.

  'It can't be small,' said Cherry quietly. 'If it's classed as a station then you can be sure it's very large. The small places are called farms.'

  'If it was all that large he'd never have had the time to manage my uncle's place,' said Kate. 'How can any man run two such colossal properties?'

  'There'll be dozens of cowboys on both ranches, remember.'

  'Stockriders,' murmured Cherry, and cast a significant glance at the clock.

  'What else does he say to try to put us off?' demanded Lin, pretending not to notice Cherry.

  'The life is hard, the climate totally different from anything to which we've been used. There are no entertainments… Oh, he goes off into a long string of all that's wrong with the place. It's a wonder anyone lives there at all, if this is true.'

  'Wants to keep other people out, that's what it is,' declared Lin. 'Dreadful snob element, Cherry was saying today in the staffroom. They form cliques and even practise class distinction among themselves. You'll be one of the elite, and it's obvious he doesn't want a pommy in that sort of position.'

  'The eggs are getting cold,' intervened Cherry with a sort of urgent desperation.

  'He is willing to make me a generous offer and sincerely hopes I shall accept it. If so, would I kindly act through the solicitors appointed, and not communicate with him personally, as I have done in this instance, as it is not the correct procedure.' A swift and furious intake of Kate's breath and then, 'He's signed his name—Mark Copeland, and that's all.'

  'What's the name of his place again?' asked Lin.

  'Cunya River Downs.'

  'And this station adjoins yours?'

  'That's right.' Sitting down at the table, Kate glared at the boiled egg perched drunkenly on the back of a porcelain cockerel with flaring blue and red tail feathers.

  'So we've been well and truly warned off,' sighed Lin, taking the chair opposite to her friend. 'Are we to continue teaching until we're bent old maids with pale tired faces and specs balanced on the ends of our long pointed noses?' Her question was directed at Cherry who, having taken possession of her chair, passed it off, reverting to the subject of the ranch.

  'Perhaps we wouldn't have found the life so simple as we've been concluding.' Her wide brows creased in thought and it was clear that she was recapturing all that had been said in Mark Copeland's letter. 'After all, none of us is experienced in farming.'

  'What do you mean—none of us is experienced? What about my neighbour's farm? I worked on that when I lived at the Grange—while you two were away at college.'

  'Farm!' ejaculated Lin, almost choking over her food. 'If I remember rightly that came under the Ministry of Agriculture's category of "Smallholdings of under One A
cre".'

  Kate went red, and for a brief space became concerned with buttering her toast. But then she glanced up and said:

  'It was small, I admit—'

  'It was merely Mr. Lambert's hobby,' put in Cherry without much expression. 'He always said he ran it at a loss.'

  The colour in Kate's cheeks deepened.

  'What does that signify?' she asked defensively at length. 'We had everything on it. Hens and ducks and geese. I hatched out four dear little turkeys once.'

  'You mean,' said Cherry, reaching for the marmalade, 'the ones that died in infancy? Well, three did and one had four wings. It survived until about a week before Christmas, if I remember correctly, and then expired without waiting to have its neck wrung.'

  Apart from throwing her friend a darkling glance Kate allowed that to pass.

  'And I once bought a little pig,' she reminded them, still using the same defensive tones.

  'I remember that,' said Lin. 'It escaped and ruined that old dame's garden— What was her name? It doesn't matter. You and she weren't on speaking terms for months.'

  'Do you mind allowing me to have my say?' Kate glared at each girl in turn. 'As I said, we had everything you'd find on a larger farm.'

  'Except fifty thousand head of cattle,' submitted Cherry, holding out her cup to Lin who was pouring herself a second helping of coffee.

  'True, we didn't have cows,' agreed Kate, still undaunted. 'But anyone can milk a cow.'

  'A cow, yes, but there they have thousands, as Cherry's just said. However, it doesn't matter whether you can milk them or not, because you don't have to. They fatten them for market.'

  'So you don't have to do any work at all—you just ride around watching them.'

  'Out in the heavenly sunshine,' supplemented Lin, heaving a soulful sigh. 'What a perfect life! So simple and slow of tempo. So leisurely, sitting astride your horse, or basking in the shade of a coolibah tree humming "Waltzing Matilda" to yourself as you chew a blade of spinifex grass and lend an appreciative ear to the dulcet song of the kookaburras nesting in the wattles, all golden and perfumed.'