The Valley

by Di Morrissey

  Dani was fascinated with the wares for auction – junk, quality pieces of furniture, memorabilia, practical farm stuff, boxes of ‘deceased estate’ items jumbled together in cartons as job lots.

  ‘Bit like a lucky dip these things,’ said a voice beside her as she thumbed through books and knick-knacks in one box. She turned around to see Barry from Isadora’s.

  ‘Hi, Barry. You looking for treasures for the shop?’

  ‘Never know what you’ll find. We just enjoy the atmosphere. This is Maree, my partner,’ he said, introducing a pretty woman with a cloud of curly hair wearing interesting antique jewellery.

  ‘Wow, I love your necklace,’ said Dani admiring the heavy silver locket set with pearls and amethysts. ‘Is that from Isadora’s?’

  ‘Maree grabs things she likes before they get a chance to get into the stock,’ smiled Barry. ‘Have you found anything of interest?’

  ‘A big wooden box for firewood that will look nice by the fireplace. And I could go mad over some of the furniture but my place is pretty well furnished with big pieces. I need boring things like kitchen utensils.’

  ‘There’s a canteen of lovely old bone-handled cutlery over there,’ said Maree. ‘A bit of elbow grease will bring the silver up wonderfully.’

  ‘Treasure hunting?’ came a voice behind Dani and she turned to find Jason Moore standing there with a large smile. He was dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt and to her surprise had a white Maltese terrier on a leash.

  ‘This is a popular place, I think I’ve met everyone I know in the district,’ said Dani. ‘Jason, this is Barry and Maree . . . ’

  ‘Yes, we know each other. I’m in Isadora’s a lot.’ Jason shook hands with Barry as Maree stooped to pat the dog.

  ‘What a sweetie, what’s her name?’ she asked.

  ‘Sugar. She’s not mine, belongs to my girlfriend,’ said Jason.

  Dani recalled the Nostalgia boys telling her Jason had a chic Sydney girlfriend who didn’t care much for the country. ‘Oh, is she here too?’

  ‘No. She’s overseas, I’m dogsitting. So, what’ve you found?’

  ‘You should bid for some of those boxes,’ said Maree, pointing to the jumble in the deceased estate ‘lucky dips’. ‘They go for a few bucks and you always find at least one thing you want to keep.’

  ‘Then you bring them back in for the next auction,’ grinned Barry.

  ‘I’ll have a look. I’m always after old books,’ said Jason.

  ‘We’ll be off, nice to see you again. And we still have your writing box in the shop, Dani,’ said Barry.

  ‘I’m still saving up!’

  ‘Don’t worry. It’s not the sort of thing that will sell in a hurry.’

  Barry gave a little wave and Maree said, ‘See you later maybe,’ and moved on to continue browsing.

  Jason fell into step beside Dani. ‘I’m told there are some good buys today. I spotted a Sydney dealer. You after anything special?’

  ‘Just odds and ends for my house. What about you?’ Dani hoped he didn’t press her as to whether she’d made a decision about the job.

  ‘I was a bit bored and everyone kept telling me I’d enjoy this. I’ve found a couple of things I might bid on. Fancy lunch after the auction?’

  Dani glanced around wondering where Roddy was. ‘Oh, thanks, but I can’t. I’m with a friend. I’m still getting settled and my mother and son are due soon. So I haven’t . . . ’

  ‘No rush, Dani. Call me any time.’ He gave a wave and strolled away, the little dog obediently trotting at heel.

  She watched him go, thinking for the first time she’d seen a more relaxed side to the man she considered so – how did she think of Jason Moore? He was a mass of contradictions, seemingly slick, superficial, ambitious, and at the same time passionate about how people and the environment were to survive successfully in the future. Now she’d seen a more casual side to him, a man obviously a bit lonely, willing to care for a spoiled lap dog while his girlfriend jetted overseas.

  ‘Hey, let’s get a coffee and get ready for the auction. Plan our strategy.’ Roddy bowled up with a sheet of paper with several items ticked off.

  To Dani’s surprise, Henry Catchpole was the auctioneer, with a strong voice and rapid-fire calling of bids. She decided to let Roddy do her bidding as it all went so fast. He left his bids till the last minute, managing to close out others so Dani came home with the cutlery canteen; large glass jars from a long-closed sweet shop; a good quality Persian carpet, if threadbare in patches; the firewood box; several big carved wooden picture frames; and two boxes of ‘assorted materials’ from a deceased estate. And all at what she considered to be bargain prices.

  Roddy took her to lunch at the waterfront restaurant in the Harrington Waters estate where lavish homes overlooked the river. It reminded Dani of the Gold Coast. She thought back to Riverview, the house on the river Jason Moore had renovated. She wished there were more modest versions of houses like that. She tried to describe it to Roddy but it was obvious that his taste differed. He liked lots of glass and luxury-plus with a golf course or beach at the doorstep.

  ‘You should see some of the places in Perth and down the WA coast, absolute stunners. There’s a lot of money over there.’

  ‘And people pour a million or more into their homes?’ asked Dani recalling pictures of some of Perth’s extravagant waterside homes. ‘I think we’re going in the wrong direction. I’d rather live more modestly, have a nice lifestyle, be energy efficient and environmentally friendly and spend my cash on fabulous holidays somewhere!’

  ‘Your friend’s place, a converted historic mansion, sounds a bit pricey,’ countered Roddy. ‘And you, watch out, some of the greenies could attack you for having a polluting wood fire to heat your house.’ He sipped his wine. ‘I say, why not have it all – the big home, a nice boat like one of those cruisers out there and the five-star vacation.’

  ‘I see where your priorities are,’ said Dani with a smile to mask her disagreement. ‘I can’t afford that lifestyle. I have to work. In fact, I’ve been offered a job, and I’m in two minds about what to do.’ She was suddenly glad to have someone to talk it over with. She’d held off telling Lara, not wanting to distract her until she arrived and had finalised renting Cricklewood.

  Roddy appeared to listen attentively, but it seemed to Dani his mind was elsewhere.

  She paused after giving a sketchy outline of Jason’s job offer. ‘So, what do you think? Have you heard much about this Birimbal development? I just wonder if it’s going to live up to all the hype and dreams.’

  ‘I know about it. Solid money behind it. Of course, they’ve got to sell the idea to the punters. But long term, what do you care? Take the money, an opportunity to do your painting thing. What’ve you got to lose except putting in a bit of time?’

  ‘I know, it’s just hard for me to be detached about anything I do. If I get into a job it’s boots and all, a hundred and fifty per cent.’

  ‘Ah, life’s too short, Dani. Remember, you came up here to chill. Now you’ve got your mother, your kid, a job here . . . What’s different?’

  He had a point. ‘But it is the lifestyle, less stress, the countryside is so calming . . . and I have a painting project that can challenge me as an artist as well as professionally. I’m so intrigued by Isabella . . . ’

  ‘So who’s this dame? What did she do?’ His attention was back with Dani.

  She gave him the rudiments of what she knew about Isabella, ‘Colourful, controversial, a colonial wild woman by all accounts. Though Garth reckons a lot is urban myth but the locals like it that way.’

  ‘Who’s Garth?’

  ‘He’s been researching the real story for ages, which isn’t as colourful but there are a lot of skeletons rattling around and maybe she wasn’t the villain everyone likes to think. Garth is retired and works at the historical society in Cedartown each week. He’s dedicating his life to getting her story out there.’

  ‘And the outf
it behind the Birimbal development are trying to link her to their project?’

  ‘Well, it is on some of her original land. You heard of Kelly’s Crossing?’

  Roddy shook his head and looked thoughtful. ‘Sounds interesting.’

  ‘So the appeal of this job offer is really Isabella. I like the idea of her coming back to life through her land. If it has to be developed and built on, this at least might be something she’d approve of,’ said Dani.

  ‘So you’re going for it?’

  ‘I am. I’ve just decided. I’ll take the job.’

  Roddy raised his glass. ‘Here’s to you. And to Isabella – may her story finally be told.’

  Lara drove into Cedartown, had a delicious sandwich and coffee at the Cheese Factory deli, and then went to see the Clerks at Cricklewood. Mrs Clerk was very organised with a typed list of information – contact numbers for electrician, plumber, and local stores, and details on the running of the house.

  ‘It’s pretty straightforward and there’s always Mrs Sanderson down the road. She comes in to water the garden and so on if there’s no one here. Let her know when you need her. She cleans as well if you like,’ said Kristian Clerk.

  ‘Wonderful. Can you show me round the garden routine and the chooks?’ asked Lara.

  Afterwards they had a cup of tea on the back verandah and Lara then excused herself as she’d driven straight through from Sydney. ‘I want to get over and see my daughter’s new place before dark. She’s in the scrub somewhere but seems happy enough. I think young Tim will be staying here with me on schooldays if that’s all right.’

  ‘Wonderful. Our grandkids love staying here. The river and the Brush are just down the road and of course they can walk into town and go to the movies.’

  The two women embraced warmly. ‘Enjoy your trip, and please don’t worry about anything here,’ said Lara.

  ‘We won’t. You enjoy the memories,’ said Richard Clerk.

  As Lara drove away she realised she’d been so busy taking in all the details that she hadn’t felt as emotional as on her first visit. She was looking forward to the break and the little adventure it would be playing detective and returning to the happy days of her childhood.

  ‘Darling, this is so sweet. Look at the lovely old furniture. This isn’t exactly as rustic as I’d imagined.’ Lara ran her hands over the polished cedar dining table.

  ‘Come and see my bedroom and the studio. I need your help with how to dress them up,’ said Dani, pleased that her mother liked The Vale.

  Lara took one look at the original floorboards underneath the old linoleum. ‘If you spent the money sanding and polishing, these would come up a treat.’

  ‘Well, I’m not spending that kind of money. What else can I do? I’ve bought one good rug at the auction.’

  ‘Darling, we can scrub it back and slap white paint, or limewash over the boards in no time. Maybe do the walls as well. Couple of rollers, sponges and white paint and it’ll look divine. Nice and fresh and you can put anything with it. We can do it, it’d be a project for the next couple of days. Once you get the hang of it you can finish it off. Don’t you have some friends who could come and help? A painting party?’

  Dani laughed. ‘Typical of you, Mum. All right, we’ll give it a bash. Sit down and relax and give me a list of what to get. I have to go into town so I’ll pick things up and we can make an early start tomorrow.’

  ‘I bet Barney has everything we need,’ suggested Lara.

  ‘I’ll give him a call and tell him what we plan to do. I’ll get the paint, rollers and a picnic. He just might have wire brushes, and something to pull the tacks and nails out with,’ said Dani.

  Within fifteen minutes Dani was off the phone and triumphant. ‘No worries, to quote Barney.’

  ‘What sweeties they are,’ said Lara. ‘So, it’s all settled. I’ll stay another day, I’m sure that’s fine with Justin’s mum.’

  ‘Barney will be over tomorrow morning with most of what we need – he says to get primer and paint. Helen, Angela, Tony and the kids will be over too as it’s Saturday. We’ll have a working bee with anyone else you can think of . . . though I do hate to ask people I hardly know,’ said Dani.

  ‘Nonsense. This is a great way to get to know people better,’ said Lara. ‘What about the boys from the Nostalgia Cafe? They could come after lunch, and Max and the boys – it’ll be fun. I’ll make a picnic lunch – chilli con carne, French bread and salad. Easy. I’d better come and help with the grocery shopping.’

  ‘No, Mum. Add things to my list. You rest . . . you’re going to be busy tomorrow,’ said Dani.

  They had a simple dinner and sat outside with a glass of wine watching the day fade beyond the hills. Crickets chirped, a frog’s call reverberated from a pipe or gutter near the water tank, birds murmured and squabbled as they settled in the trees around the house.

  ‘Peaceful, isn’t it?’ said Dani.

  ‘It is that, for sure. But you are a bit . . . cut off out here. You’ve been such a city gal. You’re not nervous?’ asked Lara with a slight frown.

  ‘That’s the whole idea . . . to step outside my comfort zone. And it’s not forever. If I get the heebie-jeebies I’ll move.’

  Lara didn’t want to mention things one thought about in the city – locking doors, rapists, thieves, dubious strangers, the lack of security. ‘What if you fall, the dog gets bitten by a snake?’

  ‘Mum! Please. There is a woman living over the hill – haven’t met her yet, but I’ll get her number. Town is ten minutes’ drive. Quicker than getting to the vet in Paddington.’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Lara cheered up. ‘I’m wondering how I’m going to feel my first night alone in Cricklewood. And I must arrange to meet Henry Catchpole at the museum. And we’d better talk to the school about Tim. There’s a lot to do . . . ’

  ‘I’ve taken a job,’ blurted Dani.

  ‘What? With that development guy? Dani, honey, if you need the money, let me help. You came here to paint . . .’

  ‘That’s part of the job.’ Dani poured them another wine and tried to explain all that Jason had told her with the same enthusiasm.

  Lara listened, trying to visualise contemporary eco homes in a bush setting, dotted over the hills where once bullock drays, wild cattle and bushrangers had roamed. What would Harold and Emily think? ‘Interesting. You know, I think my grandparents would approve. If change has to come, let it be gentle. I imagine your Isabella would be pleased that they’re not ripping the guts out of her country.’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose. I can’t help thinking there’s still unfinished business to do with her land, with Kelly’s Crossing especially. I’m due for another meeting with Garth. He’s back from the Mitchell Library in Sydney.’

  Lara stretched and yawned. ‘Tell her story in your pictures. Nice idea. Well, I’m off to bed. Hope I can sleep in all this silence.’ Lara dropped a kiss on top of Dani’s head.

  ‘Thanks for your help, Mum.’

  ‘It’ll be fun.’ Lara turned. ‘You sure you don’t mind me encroaching on your haven? If I’m in town, we’re not exactly on top of each other.’

  ‘Not at all, Mum. I’m glad you and Timmy will be close. I won’t feel so . . . secluded.’ Dani smiled and meant it. They hugged each other, glad to see things settled.

  Cedartown, 1934

  Thommo stirred, and the straw stuffed in the cretonne-covered sack that served as a mattress rustled. Clem was trying to be quiet as he pulled on his gum boots and fumbled for a shirt in the dark. He padded out to help with the milking while Thommo pretended to sleep on. It wasn’t quite dawn and even though it was summer the early mornings were brisk. So if Thommo went with Clem he’d be obliged to help. He didn’t know how to milk and Clem’s dad was very particular about the cleaning up afterwards. All that washing and sterilising. Thommo hated dairy cows. He much preferred cattle as an anonymous carcass hanging in the cold room at the back of the butcher’s shop where he worked after school. He was gett
ing to recognise the different cuts and had learned respect for the men wielding the flashing knives carried in a leather pouch strapped across their blue-striped aprons. He closed his eyes. After breakfast he’d help Clem with his other chores and then they’d have the day to themselves. Maybe play with Clem’s billy cart or the crystal radio set Clem had made.

  The boys carried their plates to the washing-up tub where Phyllis was washing up the breakfast dishes. Thommo liked Clem’s little sister and enjoyed teasing her. Clem’s older brother Keith was out in a paddock cutting hay while his dad sowed a new crop of corn for the six big sows who gave birth to as many as three dozen piglets every six months or so. The more hands to help the better. Clem’s mother and sister were in charge of the dairy, separating the milk and cream, making butter for their own use. The boys helped Phyllis and their mother with milking the thirty cows, taking the cream in ten-gallon tins on the horse-drawn slide down to the siding where the railway line passed the farm gate. It was collected by the goods train and taken into the butter factory in Cedartown.

  ‘Had enough to eat?’ asked Clem’s mother, sprinkling flour on the board where she was kneading bread dough.

  ‘You bet. Yes, thank you,’ Thommo corrected himself with an instant change of tone. Eggs, bacon, tomatoes and onions all home grown. Bloody beautiful, he wanted to say out loud, but simply gave her a big smile.

  No wonder the swaggies wandering through the country liked to check out the farms. They usually scored a full tucker bag for the track ahead. And later, around campfires, the roaming unemployed would swap stories about their luck, where the good farms were that might need more wood chopping, a bit of labouring in paddocks or bush, or helping the missus smarten up the veggie garden so they could earn at least a feed. And where there were folk who were happy enough just to hand over food in a paper bag and send them on their way.

  ‘What’re you doing today, Clem?’ asked Phyllis.

  ‘Dunno. We’ll think of something.’

  ‘You make sure you get back here before dark. I’ve made you a bag of sandwiches.’ Clem’s mother knew she wouldn’t see hide nor hair of the boys for the rest of the day.