‘Brian was like the father I never had,’ he began. ‘Do you know much about my parents?’
Amanda shook her head.
‘Well, my father was a soldier who retired early. He was an upstanding citizen, worked in the community tirelessly, was a good farmer, and was a man well ahead of his time when it came to understanding markets – financial ones that is, not the animals ones – which is why I have been left as well off as I am. But he was also a man who had high expectations. He didn’t give praise or show affection. As the only son, it was expected I would return home as soon as I finished my schooling in Perth. My sister, Jacqueline, didn’t have anywhere near the expectations placed on her that I had but that was fine – I had broad shoulders. My sister had married a Frenchman not long after she left school and she hadn’t returned to Australia, not even for Mum’s funeral.
‘Neither my father or mother would have anything to do with Brian or your mother. I’m really not sure why – that’s a whole different generational thing that never interested me. I assumed there must have been some bad blood between the families.
‘I met Brian at a young farmers conference. He had been invited to speak about stock feed. Yes, you might well look surprised. Your father was a very good farmer. Unfortunately, as happens in farming, he had seasons go against him and the rising interest rates of the eighties caught him unaware. Because of that, your recollection of him may not be the same as mine. And don’t forget there are a few years’ age difference between us!’ He smiled at her.
‘Well, I was impressed by your father’s talk. He was innovative and excited about what was happening in the farming industry – the stock industry in particular. He tolerated cropping, but only as a way to better his pastures – clean out the weeds and grasses from the clovers and so forth. I went and spoke with him after his talk and he invited me to Kyleena. I came, we got along very well and after that I just kept coming back. You were just a toddler at the time.
‘Your mother was very welcoming and it really felt like the home I had always wanted. I became quite close to Brian. I think I was almost like a son to him . . . Maybe that’s overstating his affection for me, but that’s how I liked to think of it at the time.
‘About a year after I’d started coming here regularly, my father died quite unexpectedly – a heart attack, we were told. And then my mother started her downward slide. She became very difficult and needy all of a sudden. This, I might say, was really very tricky for a young man who was socialising a lot and trying to find a wife. The women I met didn’t like the way she treated them when I brought them home, or her demanding nature. I can look back now and understand that she was frightened of losing me, but hindsight doesn’t fix past damages,’ he sighed.
‘One night, when I’d come home late and covered in cow manure, she demanded to know where I’d been. Brian had been teaching me to preg-test cows, I told her.
‘Even though she had been aware I was visiting, something seemed to snap in her that night. My mother never usually raised her voice, but she screeched that your family was beneath ours and I wasn’t to go to Kyleena again. I was insulting my father’s memory by mixing with people he didn’t like. She became really quite hysterical, and it was then I realised that I needed to spend some time with my mother and try to sort out her difficulties.
‘I’d thought she was quite healthy, but it became obvious that her mind wasn’t and her condition deteriorated rapidly. She was diagnosed with dementia. I couldn’t handle her and the farm, so I employed a couple of good men and made caring for her my priority until she died.’
‘But that doesn’t explain about you and dad and his reaction to you,’ Amanda said.
‘No. No it doesn’t. When I explained to Brian why I couldn’t visit Kyleena anymore he didn’t take it very well – especially when I repeated what my mother had said about the Greenfields being beneath the Majors. I tried to explain that I didn’t know what had caused the bad blood between our two families and I didn’t care, but as you know your father doesn’t forgive very easily. He told me if I wasn’t strong enough to stand up for our friendship, I wasn’t worth knowing.
‘So between the two ultimatums, I chose to stand by my family – my mother needed me, you see. I think anyone would’ve done the same in my situation.’ Adrian sighed deeply. ‘I’m sure Mother’s outburst about the Greenfields was a symptom of her dementia and an overreaction, but I couldn’t risk hurting her by disobeying her wishes.
‘But I guess there are always two sides to every story and that’s mine.Your father might tell a different one if he was still alive.’
Amanda sat silent and still, saddened by the stubbornness of both families and the hurt they had caused Adrian – but she couldn’t help but replay his final words after he had left later that night: Your father might tell a different one if he was still alive.
Chapter 28
1938
Michael walked across the paddock he’d named Karru behind his horse-drawn disc plough, with Bowy at his heels. He had finally finished ploughing and was on his way home.
Karru had been the first paddock he’d cleared, and he thought it might be the most productive area of his farm, as the areas he had cleared since didn’t seem to have the heavy, rich soil of the river.
He smiled as the hut came into view and he saw Grace in the vegetable garden. It hadn’t taken her long to settle into Kyleena and discard her finery in favour of his old work trousers and shirt.
Today he could see the outline of her stomach as she dug the hoe into the ground, and he wondered if the baby might be moving inside her.
Her work in the vegetable patch and orchard was an enormous asset – the plants and trees had blossomed under her care – and Michael had been glad to hand the responsibility for them over to her.
From her arrival two and a half years ago until recently, when she had grown too large to help with the lifting and ploughing, they had worked side by side to create what had become their shared dream.
For weeks on end, they had left the hut at first light and worked together to clear their land, knocking down scrub and piling up branches and sticks around the dead trees before burning them to the ground.
They had their favourite jobs, in amongst the back-breaking toil. Michael loved the sweet smell of the ‘black boys’ as they burned and Grace enjoyed listening to the crackle of the kerosene bush as it threw up flames that looked like they were almost touching the sky.
Together they had started to make Kyleena what it could be and now, as of today, he was ready to put in his first crop of oats and was eagerly anticipating the birth of their first child, which he hoped would be a son.
As he drew near Grace looked up – she must have heard the rattling of the plough – and smiled. Awkwardly, she eased herself into a standing position and walked towards Michael. He felt his heart swell with love as he looked at her.
‘Did you finish?’ Grace called.
‘We did! And what a sterling job these animals have done! They never once faltered or set a hoof wrong. Extra oats and hay for Clip and Clop tonight! Moving closer, he could see she looked tired. Dark rings had formed under her eyes and her hand was held to her back as if she was in pain. ‘How about you, my love? Is the baby active today?’
‘It must be going to make an appearance soon, if its movements are anything to go by.’ She took his arm and together they walked to the river so the horse could have a drink.
‘Do I need to speak with Phyllis Collins?’ Michael asked as he took the harnesses off his two Clydesdales. ‘If you are close to birthing, we should let her know.’ Their neighbour on the eastern side had midwifery experience.
‘She called by this morning after you left for the paddock, on her way to Harpers’,’ Grace said.‘Nancy is close to giving birth as well and Phyllis wanted to check on us both. She thinks we will not have long to wait.’
Michael finished tending to the horses and stabled them for the night, while Grace dished out the
ir oats and hay and called the chooks to their coop. Collecting a large cauliflower and some beans to add to their evening stew, as well as some ripe juicy plums for a dessert, they entered their little hut, their arms around each other.
Michael spoke of the new road that was being built which would run right past their land. ‘I think we should move our home closer to where the road will be. We need a bigger shed for the new kerosene tractor and this little hut won’t be big enough when the baby arrives. What do you think?’
‘It would make sense to be closer to the road – an easier journey to Esperance when we go. But what would we live in?’
‘If we build a shed we could enclose one end for our living quarters. We could build walls, have two or even three rooms.’
Grace smiled. ‘Imagine two rooms! We could have a kitchen and a bedroom.’ She cast her eyes to the roughly made camp bed covered in empty wheat sacks she had sewn together for a bedspread. ‘That sounds wonderful.When can we start?’
‘Once the crop is in,’ Michael replied, filled with joy at the thought of the future which lay before them.
Chapter 29
Amanda attached the spotlight to the battery of the ute and flicked the switch to make sure the alligator clips were hooked up properly. She was rewarded by the bright glow that sent mice scuttling for cover as she shone the light around the shed. Her dad’s .243 rifle sat on the bench with the safety on; the bullets were in the ute.
Sharna adjusted her beanie and hugged her jacket close to her body. ‘Why did we decide tonight?’ she asked again as the cold night air swirled around them.
‘It’s dark, there’s no moon and it’s going to be cold whatever night we do it,’ Amanda reminded her. ‘Toughen up!’
‘Well I don’t see you offering to be on the back of the ute with the spotlight.’
‘I don’t see you offering to pull the trigger – I’m happy to let you if you want to, though.’
The ute leaned to one side as Sharna swung herself onto the back and held her hand out for the spotlight. ‘Nah, I’ll leave that to you. How did you learn to shoot?’
‘Mum taught me. We had to do it on the sly so Dad didn’t know – he wouldn’t have liked it. Mum was a great shot. We used to practise with Coke cans over near the sheep yards. She could blow a tin away from nearly a hundred and fifty paces but didn’t do a lot of shooting though; all the guns are Dad’s. They were handed down from my pop and Dad was really funny about anyone else using them.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t mind learning, if you’d teach me.’
‘No worries, but not with this one. The kickback would set you on your bum and leave you bruised for weeks. We’ll start you on a small twenty-two – and in daylight!’ Amanda climbed into the ute.‘Okay, now you know what we’re looking for?’
‘Foxes around your lambing AI ewes,’ Sharna said.
‘You got it. Righto, hanging on?’Amanda backed out of the shed and turned the ute towards her beloved AI ewes.
There had been some miscarriages due to dehydration. Amanda had gathered up the tiny foetuses and buried them in the bush, vowing that it would never happen again. Not only was it a waste of money, it was a waste of a ewe – she would be barren for another twelve months and Amanda would have to carry her through, knowing that the reason she lost her lamb was thanks to her own carelessness. She wasn’t going to lose any more lambs, if she could help it – and foxes loved newborns.
As Amanda had been checking around the commercial ewes earlier in the week, she’d noticed a dead ewe with her back end chewed out.That meant there were definitely foxes around. And although the big White Suffolk ewes could give a lone fox a run for its money by stamping and charging it, when the foxes paired up the ewe didn’t stand a chance of keeping all her lambs safe, especially if she had twins or triplets to defend.
Amanda had seen foxes working in pairs, one at the front of the ewe, distracting her from her babies and one hidden in the darkness.The ewe would concentrate on the fox she could see, while the other whipped in and grabbed a lamb. The first the ewe would know about losing a lamb was when there was a bleat of fright and then a silence. Amanda, like most farmers, hated foxes with a passion. They were cruel and unrelenting in their pursuit of food.
Amanda’s eyes followed the spotlight, wherever Sharna pointed it, looking for bright red eyes shining in the dark.
After half an hour of slowly cruising around the paddock, Amanda heard a gentle tap on the roof and stuck her head out the window.
‘Where is it?’ she asked.
‘About three o’clock, maybe a couple of hundred metres away.’
Amanda looked out into the light and located the pair of eyes. She lowered the rifle and lined the eyes up in the sights. The fox moved slightly to the left – it seemed to be listening. Amanda adjusted her aim then squeezed the trigger.
The shot echoed loudly through the night and sent some plovers squawking into the air in fright, but with the loud noise there had also come a resounding thud, and Amanda knew that she’d hit her target. She put the ute in gear and drove towards where the fox had been.
Sharna leaned over the ute’s side, looked down at the mangled body and said, ‘Well I don’t think I could fix him up, even if I had finished my training! Good shot, I’m impressed.’ She flashed the spotlight around in case the fox had had a mate, but there was no sign of one.
‘Let’s head over to the commercial ewes now and have a look over there,’ Amanda suggested.
A couple of hours, four dead foxes and two misses later, they pulled back into the shed.
‘Want a coffee before you head back into town?’ Amanda offered.
‘Nah, it’s past midnight, I think I’ll just head home. I’ve got to open up the store tomorrow morning.’ She walked towards her little yellow Datsun car and opened the door. ‘Thanks for having me out. Let me know when you want to go again, I’d be happy to spot for you.’ She slid behind the wheel and drove away.
Back in the house, Amanda let Mingus out of the laundry for his nightly walk and poured herself a glass of wine.As she sat down her eyes roamed over the kitchen and stopped at the bench.There was a coffee cup sitting on it that she distinctly remembered wiping down before she left with Sharna. How had that got there? She picked it up and looked inside. There was a ring of tea left inside and it felt vaguely warm. Amanda went over to the kettle and put her hand on it. It was still hot. How strange! She shrugged, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach as Mingus whined at the door.
‘Have you been making yourself a cup of tea, while I’m not here?’ she asked, patting him. Mingus pricked his ears up at her and then growled quietly. Amanda stopped stroking and listened.Then she saw lights flash across the ceiling of the kitchen.
She froze, then realised that it was probably Sharna coming back – perhaps she had left something behind. She opened the door for Mingus then went into the lounge room to see down the front drive.
There was nothing but darkness. Her heart started to beat a little faster.
With Mingus at her heels she returned to the kitchen and listened. Nothing.
Still feeling a little anxious, she poured herself another glass of wine and sat at the table again. Half an hour and three glasses of wine later, there had been no further disturbances. She must have imagined the lights, she decided as she made her way unsteadily to her bedroom. Still, just this once Mingus could sleep in her room.
Chapter 30
Amanda drove into the AI ewe paddock. It was only a few days before they were due to start lambing and she couldn’t wait.
The ewes had long since stopped taking any notice of her when she entered the paddock, and they continued to graze as she looked out over all of them with pleasure. She was pleased with what she had achieved with her stud in the last three years. Of course it helped that she had bought quality stock to begin with, and for that she had Adrian to thank. He had insisted on coming with her when she inspected the stock at a dispersal sale, and thanks to his barg
aining skills she’d ended up getting four stud ewes for free!
Amanda caught sight of a white spot deep in the bush and shoved the ute in to gear. Driving cautiously over she got out in time to watch as a new mum licked her newborn lamb all over. The ram lamb tried to stand, his legs wobbly. He fell as quickly as he’d stood, but three tries later and he was balancing unsteadily on his legs as he nosed in under the ewe’s belly, looking for her udder and his first drink. The ewe turned her head and sniffed at his rump, then bleated softly.
Not wanting to upset the newly bonded couple, but knowing she had to, she quietly grabbed a pen and piece of paper from the glove box then walked around to the ute’s tray and took out a bucket and a set of scales. She pushed a tag engraved with the number 0001 into her pocket along with the tagging gun.
The ewe watched her suspiciously, knowing what was about to happen from experience of the past years, and tried to nudge her lamb further into the bush, out of Amanda’s reach. But the lamb wasn’t yet sure enough on its wonky legs.
With one swift movement, Amanda snatched up the lamb and there was a bleat of alarm, while the lamb struggled weakly. She talked to it soothingly. The ewe baaed and stamped its front foot at Amanda and followed her back to the ute, baaing the whole way to reassure her lamb that she was still nearby.
Amanda gently slipped the lamb into the bucket and clipped the handle onto a hook attached to the scales. The ram wiggled as she read the weight and wrote it down quickly, while his mother continued to sniff and reassure her baby that she was there. Amanda scratched the ewe’s head and said, ‘Not long now, girl, and you can have him back,’ as Mingus whined softly in the back of the ute.‘Shh,’ she told him.
Unhooking the lamb, she swiftly punched a hole in its ear, slipped the tag through and released him to his mother.
The lamb stood unsteadily again, looking around and shaking his head as the tag pulled his ear downwards with its unfamiliar weight. His mum nudged him away from Amanda. He walked unsteadily for a couple of steps then, once again, looked for the comfort of the udder.
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