‘You there Mandy,’ he called.
‘Yeah,’ she said walking out. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked as she saw his frame stiffen.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he said, nodding towards the oily rag in her hand.
‘Changing the oil in the tractor. It doesn’t look like it’s been done for years!’
‘The mechanic looks after the tractor.’
‘I know, but there was a filter and enough oil here and I thought I’d save us some money. Plus, it’s not like there’s much happening today.’
‘Well that’s about to change. You need to go out to Karru paddock quick smart and get the sheep in. I’ve organised Natty and the shearers to come and crutch tomorrow,’ he said brusquely before turning to leave. ‘I won’t be back ’til late. Got a pastures field day on down at the research station.’
Amanda didn’t even realise she was holding her breath until she heard his ute start up. Fuming, she threw the spanner viciously on the floor. Who did he think he was, issuing orders like she was a workman?
Amanda opened the paddock gate and swung it against the fence so the sheep could walk through. As she rode towards the ewes, she started to assess them, then let out a snort of disgust. Dags as big as fists hung from their hindquarters and she could see where the ewes had been tearing at their wool. Bloody lice. She would have to say something to her dad when he returned tonight. See if she could convince him to buy some long-wool lice treatment. At least he’d tried to beat the problem of flies by crutching early but the shearers would have a fit when they saw the rear ends of those sheep.
The lambs that stayed close to their mothers were obviously from different lambings. Some looked to be four months old, while others were newborns; all were unmarked. In the ideal lambing, ewes would be mated for six or eight weeks, so that all the lambs could be marked and then weaned at the same time, rather than end up with a higgledy-piggledy mess. As well as crutching tomorrow, she would have to try to mark the lambs.
A feeling of claustrophobia hit Amanda so strongly that she had to stop the bike. Did she really want to go on with this? Her father had always been a good farmer and the mess that was in front of her wasn’t his way of running a farm. It was almost as if he’d given up. She couldn’t understand why he would – he still had to do something since her mother had died; why let Kyleena get so rundown while he grieved only to have to build it back up again?
Amanda had done a lot of thinking about the inheritance her mother had left her. The half-share in Kyleena gave her a lot more say in the decision making than she had ever thought possible. Maybe it was the way to give her dad some space. Help him find his feet again. If she could get him to agree to some of her ideas, or at least give her some slack to run things the way she wanted to, maybe if the hard yakka was taken out of his hands, he’d want to start farming again. And she might want to stay. Hope filled her as she started the bike again.
As the sheep slowly made their way into the yards, Amanda noticed her dad’s ute parked at the end of the driveway. She would have thought he was long gone by now. As she watched, a white sedan appeared at the front gate and parked next to the ute. Brian materialised and shook the hand of the older man, who was dressed in a suit and a tie. After some discussion, the man opened the door of his car, pulled out a briefcase, put some papers on the bonnet and handed Brian what seemed to be a pen. It looked like her father signed some documents, passed them back and held his hand out to the man. Then Brian climbed into his ute and headed down the drive. Meanwhile, the other man got into his sedan and drove towards the shed and sheep yards. Amanda revved her bike to finish getting the sheep into the yards, chained the gate and walked out into the open so the man had no choice but to stop and talk to her.
‘Hi, can I help you?’ she asked as the car slowed and the window was wound down.
‘No thanks. I caught up with Brian and I’m just on my way now. Can’t turn around in that narrow drive of yours, which is why I’ve come up to the sheds,’ he said, smiling at her as he put his hand out the window. ‘I’m Malcolm Mackay, manager of the Western Bank.’
‘Amanda Greenfield,’ said Amanda, shaking his hand.
‘Ah, you must be Brian’s daughter? I can’t believe we’ve never met in all the time that I’ve been working with your parents. Then again, you went to boarding school and then on to college. I must say, I’ve heard so many glowing reports about you from your father.’
‘Have you?’ said Amanda, incredulous.
‘Oh, yes. He’s very proud of you. Especially since you topped your class at college then agreed to return home when he needed you most. He’s taken your mother’s death very hard. How are you coping?’
‘Oh well, I guess we all have our moments. So can I help with anything?’ she asked, pleased that her dad had been talking about her so highly to others.
‘No, no. I caught Brian in the driveway and he’s signed the papers that I needed. I’m just about to start talking to a valuer to work out how much Kyleena is worth. We’ll move on to thinking about advertising once we know more. As I said to your father, Kyleena is bound to be worth a great deal, being such a large parcel of land so close to town. Anyway, I’d best be off, I’ve got another appointment shortly. Great to meet you, Amanda. Bye.’
Amanda gaped at him, bewildered.‘Wait a minute . . .’ she began, but Malcolm had already wound his window up and started to move slowly forward. Amanda ran beside him and banged on the window. ‘What do you mean? Kyleena’s not for sale,’ she said.
Malcolm wound down the window. ‘Sorry?’
‘What are you talking about? Is Kyleena for sale?’ She could hear the panic in her voice.
Malcolm shook his head. ‘No, no, Amanda, you misunderstood. I didn’t say it was for sale. I can see I’ve shocked you. I am sorry. Brian told me he was going speak to you last night, he must’ve run out of time. We’re having the farm valued so you and Brian can assess your options.Your parents have been facing problems for some years. Selling is only one option though. We’ll talk it all through after we’ve had the valuations done.’
‘I haven’t heard anything about this! What sort of problems?’
‘Financial circumstances I’m afraid. Between you and me, I don’t think Brian has the desire to go on farming since your mother passed away.’
‘What?’ said Amanda in a shrill voice. Surely he couldn’t be serious – Brian loved this land. She loved this land.
‘Maybe you need to take this up with your father. I’ll be in touch soon,’ said Malcolm, his face sympathetic.
Reeling from shock, Amanda slowly made her way back to the yards and leant heavily against them. She’d had no idea that the farm was so deeply in debt. How had that happened? Her mother had never said anything to indicate there was a problem. And her dad, well it had been a while since Amanda had had an in-depth conversation with him about anything.
Suddenly everything made sense. The fences that were in bad condition, the weeds that had taken over the laneways, and the machinery that was being patched up instead of fixed properly. What Amanda was seeing on Kyleena hadn’t just happened overnight. The state of disrepair was not the result of the seven months since her mother had died; it had been happening over years.
Amanda spent all day making sure everything was prepared so that the crutching would run smoothly. She had drafted the sheep and marked the lambs that needed it. The bleating of lambs wanting their mums filled the air. Normally the noise wouldn’t have annoyed her, but today with her head in a whirl, it irritated her. She felt overwhelmed by panic, thinking Kyleena could be yanked out from beneath her.
As the day wore on, she went about her jobs thinking through possibilities until a plan began to take shape. It was almost as if she was on automatic pilot as she swept out the shed, which was filled with dust from the summer, put new emery papers in the grinder so it was ready to sharpen shearing gear.
As the sun finally started to sink, she ran all the ewes up int
o the shed, ready for an early start the next day. Utterly spent, but satisfied at a job well done, Amanda hoisted herself on the board of the shed and sat there, legs swinging, listening to the shuffle of the sheep and mulling over her plan. She was sure that it was workable.
The house was dark and quiet when Amanda entered, but she knew where her father would be. Knocking gently, she opened the office door and found him sitting at his desk, surrounded by beer cans. A half-empty bottle of red wine was at his elbow.
‘Wha’ do you want?’ he slurred, looking at her with bloodshot eyes.
‘I need to talk to you,’ said Amanda tremulously. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that Kyleena was in financial trouble?’
Brian’s face clouded over. ‘How did you find out?’
‘Does it matter? I know now. And I know that you’re going to have it valued, which means you intend to sell. When did you plan to tell me? When you expected me to help pack the farm up, load the trucks and send the stock to the sale yards? How could you do that? Why was it all such a secret?’ Amanda knew her voice was rising but she couldn’t stay calm.
‘You don’t understand. Wouldn’t know what your mother and I have been through.’
‘Dad, please, why are you shutting me out? I could help you, we could work together. We could save Kyleena together if you wanted to involve me. Isn’t that what Mum would have wanted? For goodness’ sake, you can’t completely drop your bundle the way you have. I know you miss her – I do too – but we’ve got to move on together, otherwise we’ll fall apart.’ But Amanda’s impassioned plea fell on deaf ears.
‘Don’t bring your mother into this,’ Brian shouted. ‘It’s my farm and I’ll do what I want with it.Your mother would do the same thing.’
‘No,’ said Amanda,struggling to control her emotions. ‘She would’ve talked to me. She would’ve talked about her grief and sadness if you’d died instead of her. She would’ve included me in the decision making and not treated me like a labourer for the past seven months the way you have.
‘Do you really think I’m going to let you sell what you, Mum and your parents worked so hard for?’
‘Who the hell do you think you are, comin’ in here and talkin’ to me like that? Get out!’ he roared, pointing a finger at the door.‘Get out of my office and get out of my house!’
‘You can’t sell Kyleena without my permission and you know it.’ Amanda called over her shoulder as she fled the office, slamming the door behind her. Running to her mother’s study she dropped onto the couch and began to sob.
Amanda had no idea how long she lay there crying but when she finally stopped, her mind was made up. She went to her room and collected her clothes and photos, then returned to the study for her computer and books.
As she drove away, she promised herself she would only come back into this house as the owner. She would save Kyleena for her mother, for Michael and Grace Greenfield, and for herself.
Chapter 6
Amanda nervously smoothed her skirt as she walked into the bank for her ten o’clock appointment. She introduced herself to the receptionist and then paced the room’s perimeter until she heard a voice call out: ‘Hi, Amanda, good to see you.’
She swung around at the sound of Malcolm Mackay’s voice. ‘Thank you – and thank you for seeing me on such short notice,’ she said.
‘No problem, come through.’ Malcolm ushered her in front of him and signalled for the secretary to bring coffee. When they were seated in the office Amanda watched as Malcolm’s kindly eyes studied her closely. She knew what he would see as she had seen it herself in the mirror that morning. Her face was drawn tight with grief and tiredness, while her brown, wavy hair hung listlessly below her shoulders. Her eyes were red and she seemed older than her twenty-two years.
‘So how can I help?’ Malcolm asked.
‘I’m worried that Dad wants to sell Kyleena. But I’m sure he can’t do it without my permission. I’ve had a letter from the solicitor telling me Mum willed her half of the farm to me,’ Amanda blurted out.
‘Yes, I knew she was going to do that. And you’re right; your father can’t do much without your permission. But like I said to you the other day, selling is only one option.’
‘I just can’t believe that Dad would consider it,’ said Amanda. ‘After he and Pop worked so hard to build it up, it’s just wrong. But if he’s not prepared to run the farm, I’ll do it myself.’
The bank manager looked dubious. ‘Do you really want the responsibility of running a big farm with a large debt?’ he asked. ‘You’re only twenty-two. I’d have thought you’d rather be out having fun with your friends.’
‘I’ve had three years of doing that at ag college,’ Amanda replied, shaking her head.‘I didn’t realise how things stood with Kyleena, but now that I do, I’m ready to take it on. I’ve been putting together a business plan.’ She bent down and opened the beaten-up leather briefcase which had been her mother’s and brought out a display folder. She placed it in front of Malcolm. ‘Here’s a five-year plan. I’ve updated it since I’ve been home, and if you can back me on this, I won’t let you down.’ She fixed him with her most determined gaze.
Malcolm didn’t move to pick up the folder, but leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. ‘We do seem to be forgetting one thing here, Amanda. You are only one half of the partnership. Your father is the other, and in the conversations I’ve had with him, I can’t see you changing his mind. I also was under the impression you had been accepted for an agricultural exchange in England in a few months’ time. What about that?’
Just for a moment, Amanda allowed herself to dwell on the plans she knew now, she would have to give up. There was no doubt what she was undertaking would mean she couldn’t go to England now . . .
‘Yes I was – but I can’t let Kyleena be sold. It’s been in our family too long. I realise that Dad is going to be hard to sway, but I’m hoping you can help me.’ She took a shaky breath and continued. ‘Dad and I had an argument the night I met you in the drive and you told me about the valuer. I . . . I left the farm. But if you like my plan and can offer me the finance I need, we might be able to talk Dad round.’
‘Where have you been staying?’
‘At the backpackers,’ Amanda confessed. ‘But I can’t stay there much longer. I hate being in town and I’m running out of money. I’ve been asking Dad about a wage for months but he just keeps giving me a hundred bucks here or a hundred and fifty there. Now I know why. I just can’t understand why he never talked to me about it.’ Her voice betrayed her hurt.
‘Your father is emotionally exhausted at the moment,’ Malcolm said gently. ‘I think you’ll find that’s why he wants to get out of farming. Maybe you both need some time before we start this process. Due to the bereavement in your family, the bank would be willing to offer a grace period of a couple of weeks. Just to make sure your head is in the right place. Big decisions are never made well under pressure. It might also give you time to sort things out with Brian. You may not need to use our mediation service.’
‘No! I need to do it now – I need a purpose,’ Amanda blurted.
‘I suppose the big question is: can you work with your father?’
‘I’m sure I can,’ Amanda cried, hoping it was true. ‘I know it won’t be easy, but if we both try to understand each other’s point of view . . .’
The bank manager looked at her for a moment, tapping his finger on the desk as if in thought. Then he cleared his throat. ‘Okay, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll look at your business plan. Then, if it stacks up, I’ll consider financing it and we’ll work out a plan to chat to Brian. But I’m not making any promises.
‘You have to understand that the bank will look at three things.’ He ticked off the points on his fingers. ‘One, how will the debt be serviced? Two, how are you going to move forward as a business? And three, do you have a succession plan? If the plan we put in place doesn’t work and there is a family rift, then how will it be wor
ked out in the end? Do you understand that?’ Amanda nodded. ‘Right, I’d better get some more coffee; this might take a while.’
Chapter 7
Autumn 1934
Michael came in from his day’s toil exhausted; his body was still adjusting to the unaccustomed labour. He slumped in front of the smouldering fire at the front of his hut.
His vision for Kyleena – as he’d named the thousand-acre property – remained strong, even though the inroads he’d made in the last three months were small. He was fortunate to have more capital than most and had put some of that into building a small hut, which was now his home. The vegetable garden that he’d established in the first week of moving to Kyleena was producing magnificent leafy vegetables, although he was fighting a never-ending war with rabbits. On the last trip he’d made into town, he’d bought a roll of rabbit-proof wire netting and, thankfully, it seemed to be proving effective. His next big project was to finish clearing the land for his stock. Other farming families had plenty of sons to help with clearing, but Michael had only himself, so he had had to hire labour. He had found young Thomas Cramm, who was the son of the boardinghouse owner, Anna Cramm, on one of his trips into Esperance. Thomas was proving most obliging. Michael always worried about his stock when he had to make the two-day trip. Having Thomas staying on Kyleena while he was absent eased the concern.
Michael wondered what his mother would say if she could see him now. His hands were blistered and his skin burnt. The heat had dictated that he shave off his moustache, and the bowler hat that he’d worn so proudly on the docks of London had been replaced by a wide-brimmed felt hat with corks hung on string roughly punched through the edge in the hope the swinging movement would keep the flies away.
He moved slowly about his small camp, his dog Bowy at his side as he cut strips from the pig carcass he had strung from a tree, wrapped in wet calico. As Michael threw the meat into the cast-iron camp oven and then lowered it into the coals, he made sure the three horses, fifty sheep and two cows he had purchased were in their holding yard right next to his shed. If the dingos the settlers had been having trouble with lately came hunting that night, Bowy and Michael would be able to run them off.
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