by Patrick Ford
“How are you gonna do that?”
“Leave it with me. I’m going to town tomorrow. I’ll make some enquiries.”
Kevin Brannigan was a stock and station agent Jack and his father had dealt with on many occasions. Kevin’s firm had sold the Ballinrobe wool clip for many years. He was pleased to see Jack. “G’day Jack,” he said. “I heard you had finished up with the army. What are you going to do now, sit around and drink beer with the rest of us cowards?”
“No mate, but I have a bit of an idea I want to run past you. Do you know much about Emu Ridge, that big place down near Roscoe’s? I heard it was for sale.”
“It is. Just between you and me, the owners are in a bit of strife. Two doctors from Sydney bought it a few years ago. They spent a lot of money on fences and water. They were looking for a tax deduction of course, but this cattle disaster has scared them. They want to unload it. It’s about 10,000 acres of that red loam country. It needs a bit of timber treatment, but I reckon it would run about 2200 dry cattle.”
“Do you know what they want for it?”
“I heard $8.00 an acre, but the word is they really want to unload it, so if you want it, they might take less if you don’t act too eager to buy it. We don’t have it listed; no one has… yet. The Commercial Bank is the contact point for enquiries.”
Jack was pleased to hear this. He knew Malcolm Murray, the manager of the bank. They had been at university together and had shared many a cold beer after a rugby match. Malcolm had not long been posted to Goondiwindi and Jack had yet to catch up with him.
He and Susan met for lunch. Jack told her what he had learned. He said, “That place would suit us down to the ground. It has good water and is only two hours away. I thought we might go talk with Malcolm Murray; apparently, he is handling the sale. The bank probably holds the mortgage for that to be the case. They might want to talk turkey.”
After lunch, they walked down to the bank. Susan wanted to take part in the discussions. Jack figured she was a better negotiator than he was. In any case, it would do no harm to have a beautiful woman along to distract old Malcolm.
Malcolm was pleased to see them. He had not met Susan for he had arrived at Armidale after she had departed, but he was clearly impressed with what he saw. After a few pleasantries, Malcolm got to the point. “What can I do for you, Jack? A few million dollars? A trip to the Caribbean?”
Jack said, “We heard you are going to sell Emu Ridge. If that’s the case, we might be interested if the price is right.”
“Well, Jack, we are the mortgagee in possession, and we are authorised to accept bids.”
“How much do the owners owe you?”
“Jack, you know I can’t tell you that, but we would like to get twelve dollars per acre.”
I’ll bet you would, thought Jack.
“We would have to have a good look at it,” Susan said, “before we go any further. Do you have anybody to take us out there?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Murray, “but if I give you the keys, would you like to go out by yourselves and take a look? I’m a bit short staffed right now.”
“That sounds good to me,” Susan said. “What about you, Jack?” She was wearing an enigmatic smile. There was laughter in her lovely eyes. They left the bank armed with a sketch map of the property and a bunch of keys.
“I’ll meet you back at the café in about fifteen minutes,” Jack said. “I just want to duck up to the Lands Office.”
At the Lands Office Jack obtained the Ordnance Survey map for the area, and asked about the title. A youth pulled the file and opened it on the counter, an action he would learn not to do in his future career for it exposed most of its contents to Jack’s inquiring eyes. Jack saw all the normal things, but was surprised to see a notice from the Shire Council. It seemed that some kind of control order existed on the property. These orders are used regularly for routine things such as making fences stock proof or controlling some kind of pest or weed. He met Susan and they headed home for afternoon tea and some of Helen’s sponge cake. Jack was excited.
“What is it, you rogue, Jack Riordan? Tell me or I will have to seduce you tonight to get the information out of you.”
“You will,” said Jack, but only after three attempts. And you better be good!”
“I’m always good, darling, it gets better every time.”
Jack leant over and kissed her. “I know,” he said, “ever since you stole that kiss from a nervous little bush kid ten years ago.”
* * * *
Susan was bursting to know what Jack had found out. “This won’t affect the deal we have for tonight, but I have some information to exchange for what you know.”
“Okay,” said Jack, “let’s get Helen and get down to it.”
The afternoon tea table was as good as any place to talk. Susan started. “Malcolm Murray must be under pressure to sell Emu Ridge. Jack, I don’t know if you noticed, but he was a little nervous during our interview. His eyes were darting everywhere.”
“That was you, my darling,” Jack said. “He was understandably nervous in the presence of such a beautiful woman.”
“Flattery will get you anywhere, but I don’t think everyone regards me as beautiful as you do, for which I am eternally grateful. Nevertheless, he should never have given you the keys and invited us to inspect at our leisure. We will have too much time to find out any problems an agent would have concealed from us or glossed over.”
“Susan’s right,” Helen said. “He shouldn’t have done that.”
“Okay,” said Jack, “now here’s my little gold nugget. The Shire Council has issued some kind of order on the property. I don’t know what it is; it could be something quiet innocuous, but it could be serious. Malcolm might not know about it. In any event, we might be able to use it for leverage.”
The next day they made the trip to Emu Ridge. It was a hot day, but the car had air conditioning so it was a pleasant enough journey. The road followed the railway line west from Goondiwindi before veering off to the north. The countryside changed as they went. Jack remembered the three weeks he had spent with a drover and their cattle on this road just after he had left school. How long ago, he thought. Old Ned Scully had long departed for the big campfire in the sky. He was probably yarning with Paddy right now. It had been one of the formative episodes in his life. He had not known Susan then.
They took Ollie along for his opinion. Helen refused to come. “Someone has to look after this brood,” she said, indicating her flock of best friends. “Besides, I know that country well.” Two of her brothers had lived in the area for years. They were gone now, but Helen had fond memories of the tennis parties and dances of her youth.
They spent most of the day at Emu Ridge. They were pleased with what they saw. Ollie sifted the soil, tasted it, and said, “This is good dirt, Boss, nice and sweet. It’s friable too. I think it would make good cropping country if you cleared it.” Jack had been thinking that too. For the moment, only two things were vitally important, the fences, particularly the boundary fence, and the water points.
Water was not a problem. A nearby Government bore watered Emu Ridge. A network of drains through all the paddocks distributed the water. The landform was mostly flat, but one corner of the property consisted of a stony ridge, characteristic of the area. Ancient rock formations surviving millions of years of erosion, the ridge gave the property its name. Nestled below the ridge were the homestead and farm buildings. They were surprised to see a near-new brick cottage, small but functional, and an airstrip. The doctors from Sydney had intended to use the property as a rural retreat, to holiday in peace, perhaps to hunt feral pigs and goats. There was even a small swimming pool. Now, tax deductions used up and livestock markets at all-time lows, they wanted out.
“I like that ridge, Boss,” said Ollie. “You can get up there and see over the whole place, and if they ever cap that bore like they are doing out west, you could put a big tank up there and run the water all ove
r.”
The boundary fence was sound, new in places. The internal fences needed work, but overall they were satisfied that it met their short-term requirements and had future development potential.
They returned to Goondiwindi. In the Railway Hotel, over a cold beer, they tossed the prospect about. Ollie was suitably impressed, but he was worried about the extra cost, both day to day expenses, and the need for further capital expenditure. Overall, they liked the place and Jack decided to make a serious attempt to acquire it.
* * * *
Susan and Jack went to see Malcolm Murray a couple of days later. They could see that Malcolm was more than happy to see them. Don’t ever play poker, Malcolm, Susan thought, I can almost see your hand from here!
“Malcolm,” Jack said, “I won’t beat around the bush; we want Emu Ridge and we are prepared to make an offer today. However, I’m worried about one problem. I’m almost certain I saw some Chinese Nettles in a few places.”
“Chinese Nettles?”
“Yes. They can be a problem. For a start, they are poisonous to livestock and are a reportable weed. Surely the Council has advised you about that?”
“Well, I’m not sure. I will have to check the file.”
“They are easy to control if you can get to the problem early enough. The real trouble comes when you ignore the things. They can spread quickly and take over the pasture completely, rendering it worthless. Anyway, all that aside, we are prepared to offer you $6.50 an acre for Emu Ridge.”
“Come on, Jack, that’s far too low. I already have a better offer than that. We are close to a contract.”
‘Okay then, I guess you had better take it. We will leave our offer on the table until the end of the month, just in case your contract falls through. Thanks for your time, Malcolm. Give me a call. Perhaps we can have a beer and catch up soon.”
They left the bank and adjourned for lunch in the Olympic Café. Jack remembered the many happy times he, Denni, Paddy and Helen had dined there. It’s funny, he thought, those memories are part of my attachment to this town. I will never lose them. He could still see Paddy across the table the day Jack had come home from school for the last time before Paddy started trying to hide his illness from his children.
Angelo, the Greek Patriarch of this little Greek island in the Australian outback, greeted them. He had always ensured that no Australian boy would get his hands on his daughter.
“Angelo,” said Jack, “how is Maria doing?”
You could almost see Angelo swell with pride. “Shesa very clever, very pretty, she goesa good at uni. Shesa gonna be chemist. She has good Greek boy. She’s a’gonna marry him ina spring.”
Once they had ordered, Susan turned to Jack with a look of amused bewilderment. “Chinese Nettles?”
“Well they do have nettles in China, I’m almost sure,” said Jack. “I’ll bet Malcolm hasn’t heard of them either. But the seed I planted about the Council order is about to germinate.”
“But what about the other offer he has?”
“I don’t think he has another offer. You saw how pleased he was to see us. He thinks he has us nibbling on the bait, but I think the reverse is more likely the truth.”
Malcolm telephoned three days later. “Jack,” he said. “I’d really like you to get Emu Ridge, but you will have to lift your offer above the one I have.”
Hmm, thought Jack, whatever happened to the imminent contract? “Sorry, Malcolm, we can’t do better than that. Our offer is still on the table until the end of the month. After that, we might make another offer; say…six dollars an acre.”
“But, Jack, you can’t do that. That’s less than your current offer.”
“Well, Malcolm, the markets are getting worse, and it hasn’t rained for a while. I can’t expose myself too much.” Malcolm was not impressed. He made a curt goodbye and hung up. Jack told Helen and Susan about the phone call. “I think he will bite big time, and before the month is out.” The month had ten days to run.
A week later, Malcolm phoned. “Jack, my other buyer has gone off the map. You now have the opportunity to make a firm offer for Emu Ridge. We will sell it to you for $8.00 per acre. That would be a great investment.”
Jack pretended to think for a bit, and then said, “Hold on Malcolm, I’ll put it to Susan.” They waited several minutes. They could almost smell Malcolm stewing on the other end of the line. Jack picked up the phone. “Sorry for the delay, Malcolm, we have been considering our situation. The best we can offer you is our current bid of six-fifty. We can make another offer later, but it would be lower than that. Time and circumstance move on.”
Once again, Malcolm ended the conversation. The next day he phoned again. “You can have it for seven dollars,” he said. “That’s almost highway robbery!”
Jack stood by his guns. “Our offer stands until Monday, Malcolm. After that, we will start all over again.” There was a pause on the line. Finally, Malcolm said, “Alright, Jack, six-fifty. No wonder you were such a hard bastard to play against at rugby! Come in on Monday and we will draw up a contract.”
Thus, Jack and Susan became the proud owners of Emu Ridge. It was to be one of the best decisions of his life, but Jack did not know that yet.
* * * *
The wheat crop of 1974 was a poor one. There were no finishing rains, and Ballinrobe began to take on the appearance of a drought-stricken property. Day after day, the sun beat down mercilessly from a cloudless sky. The pastures dried off and the cows began to lose weight. They had weaned the calves and taken them down to Emu Ridge. There, the season had been better. Because Emu Ridge had been destocked prior to its sale, they had taken over a property with an abundance of feed. It was ready for a new owner with a new programme. The first problem was getting another man to live on the property. His role would be to maintain the fences and water facilities and to receive and treat any arriving livestock. This problem fixed itself.
A few days after the news of the purchase of Emu Ridge became known, Ken came to the homestead after work. “Boss,” he said, “I know you are looking for a man to look after Emu Ridge, and I was wondering if you might consider me for the job.” Ken had been at Ballinrobe for a few years now, and Ollie and Jack had trained him well. He was a big, strong young man and Jack had no doubt about his capabilities, but…
“Ken we need a married man down there. We will be coming down regularly and will need feeding when we are there. Sometimes we will need to stay overnight. I’m not sure about Susan, but a bachelor pad doesn’t appeal to me.”
“That’s the point, Boss. I have asked Robyn to marry me, but she is not too keen on the single quarters here. She wants a real house.”
Jack thought for a while. “Okay,” he said, I’ll talk to Susan about it. If she has no objection, then it’s a deal. Helen will probably ask you to be married in the garden here, if you like. Think of it as a wedding present.”
Ken and Robyn were married at Ballinrobe, and three weeks later, they moved to Emu Ridge. Jack knew they would need a farm vehicle, but he had a problem. Some time ago, Land Rover became part of the huge BMC conglomeration. BMC had been nationalised by the British government. Soon after, the militant British trade unions began to flex their muscles. They resorted to many different tactics to force the government to give in to their ridiculous claims. They went on strike, they had go-slow days, absenteeism was rife, and vehicles sabotaged deliberately on the production lines. The quality and reliability of their products took a nosedive and their market share did so too. One of the marques affected was Land Rover.
Reluctantly, Jack purchased a Toyota Land Cruiser for Emu Ridge. Ken was happy. His mates had been taking the mickey out of him for a few years about the old Land Rovers he drove. The Land Cruiser proved to be a good vehicle and rapidly came to dominate the market. Land Rover faded away, almost to oblivion. It would be more than ten years before it returned to the market in strength.
Jack began his buying programme. For this, he depended on his ol
d friend Kevin Brannigan. For Jack to attend the many sales would take up too much time. For the time being, they had not replaced Ken at Ballinrobe, so Jack would be busy there. Kevin had his instructions. Over a period of six months, he bought nearly two thousand weaner steers of good quality. They cost Jack $29.00 each, delivered to Emu Ridge. All the cows from Ballinrobe were now there as well. He began to clear more land at Ballinrobe. Next year, weather permitting, he would plant three thousand acres of wheat. Throughout all this activity, Susan was to the fore, planning, organising, supervising. Jack could not have done it without her, and still, she was a wonderful lover and friend, and mother.
Jacqui was growing into a lovely girl. She was so like Susan physically, but you could see Jack and Helen in her, in some of her mannerisms, and in the way she spoke like Jack. She was a no nonsense girl. She loved her animals, especially her horses. Her American relatives would have said she had become a top wrangler. She bossed Patrick around the horses, making sure he looked after them well, hosing them down, putting rugs on them in the cold, and looking after their feet. She was especially vitriolic when he failed to maintain his saddles and harness. As Jack had been, the now six-year-old Patrick was like a shadow to his father. Before long, he would want to learn to shoot and drive the old Land Rover.
Four-year-old Genevieve was ever the charmer. She helped with the chooks and loved playing with the kelpies. Tom was the Boss now, but there were two more puppies coming along. Last year, Sam had died in her thirteenth year, a venerable old lady. They had buried her at the thinking place, sending her spirit home. They all shed many tears, especially Jack, who had depended on her unconditional love so much during his lonely years of separation from Susan.
Now Jacqui and Patrick took the school bus each day. They both loved school; Jack could not understand that. His school days had been a miserable time for him, for the most part.
As 1975 drew to a close, it seemed that the noose was drawing closer around the neck of Ballinrobe and its inhabitants. The wheat crop was another disappointment. The finishing rains failed to materialise in September. There was enough of a crop to cover the next year’s expenses, but Jack did not want to dig into their cash reserves. He had arranged a bank loan to purchase Emu Ridge, but he had financed everything else from their own resources, including the $58,000 to buy the cattle and have them transported to Emu Ridge. At least the socialist government was gone and a conservative one elected. Inflation slowed, and the economy began its long journey back to strength again.
