Two Farms: Books I & Ii

Copyright © 2014 by Bett Taylor.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2014902819

ISBN:   Hardcover   978-1-4931-3491-5

              Softcover   978-1-4931-3490-8

              Ebook          978-1-4931-3489-2

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living

or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 02/22/2014

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Other books by Bett Taylor:

My Time in Aquarius

Two Farms (Book 1)

Coffee Breaks, Short Stories and Poems

Edited by Joan Rayner

Dedicated to:

Farmers of this Earth

Tillers of our Lives

"THE WARM BROWN SOFTNESS OF THE EARTH

CAN OFFER UP THE COMFORT OF ITSELF"

TWO FARMS

Hi ya Charlie, reckon it’ll ever rain again? The cracks in my paddock are nearly as deep as the missus face! Bob took his hat off and gave it a shake and a slap on his knee, then replaced it, shielding his brown weather-worn face, even though he was indoors at the bar of the local pub.

Geez Bob Maloney, that’s not nice to say about ol’ Beryl."

Only kiddin’ I love every one of them cracks Charlie, you know that. But what with all the worry about the drought, they are gettin’ deeper by the day. She’s a one for the animals and can’t stand to see them wanderin’ around hungry and thirsty. She wasn’t interested in comin’ to town today.

Well I put that new dam in after the last drought and even that is down to wet mud in places. Charlie replied. Still got a bit of water though. I haven’t told the Government about the dam yet ‘cause they want to charge me water rates for the stuff God sends out of the bloody sky. Bloody cheek! It rains on my land, I collect it, save it running off to someone else’s property downstream, so as far as I’m concerned it’s my water, bugger the Government. Let the bloke down stream collect his own water I say. I can understand a license to the creek, but not rain from the sky ~ it’s God’s gift to me so forget it.

Yeah, I know Charlie, but you keep forgetting I’m the bloke ‘down the creek’ and you are takin’ it from me and the no-name creek we’re both supposed to share. Did you see that bloke on the TV whose damming up the creeks? Well not exactly damming them up, but slowing down the water after the rains to help it stay on his property ~ bit like you, only different. He then makes these drains and waterways to water his paddocks. He had huge arguments with his neighbours as they thought he was growin’ weeds to float down to their properties in the next flood and in the meantime, keepin’ all their water.

"Yeah, I did see that. From the air his is the only property that’s green. Must mean somethin’. It seems to be workin’ but won’t solve our problems at the moment eh? You’re close to God Bobby boy, so how about you do a bit of prayin’? Or we could get the hippies over in Nimbin in to do a rain dance!

It is predicted you know, rain. Bob sighed and looked out the window to the clear blue skys.

You’re always predictin’ it Bob but I expect it’ll come. Always does eventually. Bloody country, it’s either ‘droughts or flooding rains’ as we all learned from the famous Dorothea MacKellar. You remember the last flood though Bob? Sad that. That family swept off the culvet at Uki. They weren’t local, that’s the trouble. They don’t know the roads.

Doesn’t help. Bob remembered. Even if you do know the roads, there’s always that feeling when you come to a flooded barrier on the road, with the other side beckoning you home, you think ‘if only I could make it across to the other side, I could be home doin’ this or that’. The call of home is very strong and sometimes people do take risks because the alternative of sitting in a car for hours, sometimes days, isn’t too excitin’, eh?

And of course, Charlie agreed, You never think it will happen to you. You’ll always make it safely to the other side. Human nature is a funny thing. We all think we are different and can control the elements.

When I come to town ~ like now Bob leaned on the hotel bar, taking his hat off again and running his hand through his greying hair to let the air flow a bit cooler near his scalp, It really annoys me when I see townspeople just spraying the water around with their hoses ~ just playing with it. They don’t realise what a precious commodity it is. Turn on the tap and it’s there for them. There’ll come a day with water restrictions when the water will be turned off at the mains I betcha and it won’t be long, either.

Well, we used to joke about buying water in bottles to drink and here it is, now we buy it and don’t think twice. I used to think what a wank that was, ‘Adam’s ale’ as we used to call it. Free of course, but now, fancy having to pay for it. Charlie removed his red jockey cap, with it’s advertising logo for paint on the front, and ruffled his greying hair. He then replaced it, but back to front, to reduce his image by about twenty years, making sure the little bit left of his still bright orange curl hung wantonly over his forehead.

Ah well, I hope this watering hole doesn’t dry up too soon Charlie. I’m off to get something nice to eat to take home to ol’ Beryl. Cheer her up. It breaks her heart to see her roses and garden just slowly dying. It’s got so she has to choose which flowers to water, to live. Life and death decisions and of course her vegie patch comes first. She’s pretty down at the moment.

Why don’t you buy her some pretend plastic flowers Bob Charlie suggested. ‘Crazy Clarks’ are full of them. Made in China."

God Charlie, you’ve got no finer feelin’s have yer? How would that be, givin’ her flowers to dust every day! Don’t you think that would be the final death blow. Tellin’ her ‘forget about the real thing. Forget about it ever rainin’ again. Forget about smellin’ the roses. Forget about anything that’s alive!’ Might as well forget about livin’ Charlie. No wonder you’re an old bachelor. Who’d have you? You should do a course in sensitivity. But then again, if you haven’t got it, you haven’t got it Charlie.

Strewth Bob, it was only a suggestion, I don’t need a lecture. See you, me ol’ mate. When it rains again. You might be in a happier mood then.

Bye Charlie, see you too ~ maybe after the flood!

Charlie’s Farm

‘Bob thinks I’m insensitive. Poor Beryl was nearly in tears when I went over there the other day. She was just sitting on an upturned feed bin and looked like a dead thing under a tree in the midst of her dead and dying garden. She looked wilted and matched the surrounding plants ~ all sucked dry by the relentless sun without rain and all hope of life gone. Where was her round cheery face and her apple red cheeks, her apron with the flour remains of freshly made scones and her farm hat that always sat jauntily over her pepper and salt greying hair. Her hat now in her hands whilst she moved it around and around by the rim, in deep thought.’

Hello Beryl, me ol’ China! ‘Why the long face’ as the bar man said to the horse when it entered the pub. Charlie was disturbed and surprised to see Beryl looking so drawn and hopeless.

Hello Charlie! Sorry, I know it’s not like me, but I’ve had it with this drought. It’s so disheartening. People don’t realise ‘water’ is the staff of life and without it, well, we’re all buggered. I spend most of my waking hours in this garden or attending to the animals and I feel like a dried crisp leaf, ready to crumble with just a minute waft of wind when everything, including me, will just turn to dust.

Come on Beryl, let’s get some of your favourites over to my new dam and at least we’ll keep them alive until the next rains. Charlie started to put the back flap down on his ute and collect the pot plants closest to hand. I’d like to do something for you for bringing me a baked dinner every Sunday for years ~ it’s the highlight of my week, that is. But not for much longer though Beryl, my love. I’ve got a few irons in the fire. Getting me a lady of my own!

Go on Charlie, who’d have you? Beryl joked but she knew Charlie had a kind heart and generous nature and would bend over backwards to make anyone happy.

Well, the thing is . . . Charlie breathed heavily and hesitated as he lifted the bigger pots and pushed them to the back of the ute, pulling some of the smaller ones all ready on the tray, forward to make room. You know I’ve got this new computer and have done the course of how to work it? Well, I looked up a web site called, ‘YOUR PERFECT MATCH’.

Go on Charlie, you never did! Beryl couldn’t believe it. Charlie was so shy.

"I did and I have been corresponding with a lady for about four months. I haven’t told Bob because he would only be sarcastic and say stuff but I’ll tell you. She is about my age. We have exchanged photographs, so she has seen me in all my glory ~ well, nearly all my glory, I don’t want to scare her! She is on the plump side and I like that anyway. To me that means she is a good cook and likes her food and that will suit me fine. She is a widow and has two children, all grown, one girl and one boy and would you believe it, his name is ‘Charlie!’ And she has two grandchildren.

I love all that about her because for me, it will be a ready made family and that is something I have always wanted, a family of my own. Well a family to share in. I am so excited that when I saw Bob’s Van leave for the calf sales, I just had to tell you. I nearly bit my tongue out last Sunday when you brought me my dinner because I had already made arrangements to meet her. Her name is Margaret Jackson. ‘Princess Margaret’ as far as I’m concerned. I had no one to tell, but I really wanted something definite before I told anyone. I didn’t want Bob slingin’ off at me, if you know what I mean? She’s coming up from Adelaide on the train and I am meeting her at the local Station next Saturday.

She’s bringing her daughter and two grandchildren with her so that it won’t be just me and her in the house, as that could be embarrassing. I think also they want to check me out before they let me have their Mother and Gran. It’s a big decision for any family I suppose."

Charlie! I am so pleased! Just wait until I put a few brooms and brushes in the cabin with us and I’ll do a quick clean around for you in the house. First impressions and all that.

Beryl opened the passenger side door to get in to go with Charlie’s to deliver the plants, then made to swing around to get out again and get the cleaning gear.

No need Beryl. I’m doing a tip job on this Thursday and Friday for all the old accumulated junk over the years. The visit has given me enthusiasm to do it. I should have done it years ago. Anyway as well I have hired the local cleaning people to do the house through. I got their names through the local real estate. They are coming earlier in the week as they don’t know what to expect and I want to have it sparkling for Saturday. Probably should have done a paint job, but never mind, if all goes well, Margaret can choose a new colour scheme.

Anyway Charlie, anyone who gets you will be very lucky. I don’t know why you haven’t been snapped up years ago. Beryl sat forward hanging onto the dash board as Charlie drove the truck across the uneven paddock short cut to his house. She hoped the plants weren’t flying out of their pots.

"It’s your fault you know, Beryl. You know you have always spoiled me and I always thought ‘where would I get another Beryl’? Charlie teased and put his left hand over Beryl’s white ‘hanging on for dear life’ knuckles then quickly put it back on the steering wheel to control the ute as it hit a ditch.

Beryl laughed and said You’ll do all right with Margaret, you old smooth talker, Charlie Carter. They both grinned as Charlie put his foot on the accelerator in a reckless fashion for no good reason, but just because he could.

Charlie’s Farm

Mum are you really going to go all that way to Northern New South Wales just to meet a bloke you met on the Internet? It’s a fair hike from Adelaide and what if you decide that you want to live there with him? How are we going to visit like we do here, every other day?

Come on Justine, you’ve got your life, Frank and the kids. I’m sitting here alone in this huge rambling house with only the cleaning left to keep me occupied. I know I’ve got the Red Cross and the Quilters and the occasional Senior Cits trip to somewhere. Maybe a visitor comes here, but basically, at the end of the day, it’s just me and the telly. The cat doesn’t answer back! Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Charlie seems just up my street. He’s a farmer from the ground up. The only thing worries me a bit is he’s never been married so he would be used to his own space and ways of doing things. Still this is only a ‘look-see’ trip, so no commitments from either side. Anyway you will enjoy the trip and Sophie and Zippy will enjoy the train and the farm. Kids love a farm. It will be a good holiday all round. I can’t wait. We’ll have to change trains, firstly at Broken Hill, the border from South Australia into New South Wales, because of the different rail gauges, or maybe they’ve changed them by now. Then at Sydney to head north, but the timetable seems to match up with only a few hours wait here and there, so it will be fine.

Mum do you think you are ready for such a big move and change. You’ll be leaving Dad behind.

Yes, I know, but he’s under the ground, so not a lot of use there is he? And him vowing to look after me in my old age ~ bloody cheek to die on me!

Mum you are joking? Dad wouldn’t have a heart attack just to be vindictive.

"Yes, of course I’m joking. I loved your father and it broke my heart when his heart broke. But I’m not through with living yet and I would expect the same from him if the boot was on the other foot. He wouldn’t want to see me lonely and I expect it is because we were such friends during our marriage that I miss his companionship. He did have a drinking problem as you know, but still I miss him, terribly. Just to have someone there at the end of the day. Even though after tea he sat asleep in front of the telly with his mouth open, snoring. He missed the main news and didn’t come good until after it was finished, when he woke up and swore he had never been asleep.

The worst time now is meal times when I sit alone with my plate of food. Sustenance for the body, but nothing to replenish the soul. I turn the radio on these days, just for company."

But not everyone is like Dad you know? Charlie is also worried about you. Just because this new bloke’s name is the same as your son, you might think you know him all ready.

Justine felt she had to look after her Mother and had done so since a small child when her Father had drunk too much. She would ask her Mother, when she saw tears well in her Mother’s eyes, to put her to bed just to get her away from her Father’s hurtful insults. As she got older, Justine took on the job of ‘undisclosed’ carer for her Mother and if they went out publicly anywhere, to the shops, to church or just leaving the house, Justine would straighten her Mother’s blouse, or pull at some bit of her attire to readjust it to suit a public gaze. Her Mother was used to it and in its way it looked like how one monkey preens another with pride and affection. Sometimes Justine suggested her Mother change her clothes altogether before going public, or she would add a string of beads to her blouse.

Justine herself went to bed with make-up on. Frank said, Why all that goop going to bed? Are you planning on dreaming of someone else Justine Campbell? Won’t I do?

She tarted herself up just to vacuum the floor and always half listened for an unexpected knock at the front door. Her red smile always ready to welcome.

She vacuumed up to the full-length mirror in her bedroom, from different approaches, to catch herself unawares ~ tall, olive skin, green brown eyes. She couldn’t change those, but she could hold her stomach in a bit more. It seemed to be more pronounced since the birth of Sophie and Zippy. She often threw the vacuum down and went to the wardrobe to hold different outfits against her image in the mirror.

Yes, I know, that is why I do value your opinion. Her Mother had said, You know I do and I do want you to come on this initial meeting. We can assess Charlie Carter, the farmer, together. We are only staying a week on the farm and that should be long enough to see whether we are suited and could get along. As far as distance is concerned, I’m sure we will be able to finance a trip from Adelaide for your family at least once a year and maybe when the kids get a bit bigger they can come up in between times, on their own, for holidays. I need a new life and a new interest. Charlie could be just what I am looking for.

Well, I’m still sus about the Internet. I’ve heard too many disastrous meeting that way. You can tell anybody anything on the Internet and they have no way of checking. It’s all out there in cyberspace and nothing to do with real life and real people. People pretend to be anyone except themselves, sometimes.

Look Justine, there’s nothing settled, just a trip away to check it out. I’m not expecting anything and will just take it as it comes. Charlie says he’s got a lovely neighour close by called Beryl Maloney and she and her husband have been his friends for years so there is another female to show me the ropes and introduce me to whoever and the area. Apparently this Beryl is a good cook and a very keen gardener, so that’s two things we have in common already.

The trip took Justine, Margaret and her grandchildren, Zippy and Sophie, the best part of three days. They arrived tired but excited as the train pulled into the platform about mid-morning. Margaret looked to see who and where was Charlie. Charlie had brought Beryl and Bob along for support and to boost his shyness on introductions. Beryl knew them instantly and smiled at the Mother, Daughter and Grandchildren, all with similar hereditary features. She invited them all to her place for morning tea of pumpkin scones made fresh that morning, served with farmyard cream and homemade Rosella jam.

Ol’ Beryl’s got the good china out for you Margaret. She doesn’t do it for everyone you know! Bob jibed and embarrassed Beryl. I hope you and Beryl get on real well, there’s nothing like good neighbours.

After two helpings of Beryl’s delicious scones, Margaret took her plate to the sink and looked out the window. Is that the road leading to your place Charlie? she asked. What’s that big gash in the ground I can see over there near the shed, Bob? Looks a bit green and damp in the middle.

Oh! said Beryl That’s our new dam. The green bit is a natural spring. We’re just waiting for the rain now. They always say, ‘spring-fed dam’ when they advertise a property in real estate, but they don’t say that when there is a drought the spring goes the other way, or dries up completely. Just you wait until it rains. You won’t know this place. It all greens up, the garden smiles and the cattle look plump and fit. We’ve had a couple of years of drought, but it can’t last much longer.

Charlie gave us the idea for the dam actually Bob sat back expecting his plate to disappear before him and make its way magically to the sink as it always had for forty two years. Women’s work he thought. Yes, ‘ol Beryl was taking all her pot plants over to Charlie’s place to his dam to keep them alive so I thought we had better do something here or she might follow them since she’s very fond of Charlie Carter.

Come on Bob, cut it out! Charlie blushed. Anyway, if it meant that you’ve got a decent dam now, then all the better. I saw the water truck here last week filling your tanks, so if you had a dam to pump from, like mine, it’s gotta be a good investment. Water’s gold.

Yes, yes I know Charlie, only kiddin’. You all ready now for the big trip over to Charlie’s? Bob looked to his visitors and saw that the children had gone outside to look over the house paddock fence at the animals. Two of the horses had come over expecting something to eat. Sophie was holding the cat by its middle with both ends draped equally over her arm like a handbag. The cat looked very awkward but resigned. Zippy patted the dog and wondered why it was chained up when it had all the farm to roam around. He thought he might let it off the chain since it was pulling so hard to be free.

Hey son, don’t even think about it! Bob yelled from the veranda step. Bluey will start roundin’ up cattle if you let him off. We don’t need him to do that today. He can show us his tricks on Friday when the muster’s on again. You can come if you like?

Great! Can I go Mum? Zippy ran to his mother.

We’ll see. At the moment we are all going with Charlie in his Landrover to his farm, so come along.

Sophie wasn’t too sure about the Land Rover as it didn’t look neat like Bob’s car. She was used to organization with everything clean and in it’s rightful place. Even though she was only seven she obviously had inherited her Mother’s traits of a place for everything, except she had the habit of counting. She counted how many Barbie dolls she had, how many other toys, how many books, then defined them further by counting how many small books, medium and large sized books and the ones lying on their sides. Then she counted her coloured pencils, overall, then into how many of each colour, three green from dark to light, pinks to red, and browns through to black. She wondered why there was a white pencil when the writing paper was white, but discovered that if she put the black down first and then the white over the top, she could make grey. She was thrilled at her discovery and when she drew her Mother she was able to give her grey hair, even though Justine had very little grey hair. Sophie’s hair was blond and curly but Justine thought as Sophie got older her hair would go dark brown like hers. Sophie counted her hair ribbons hanging on the inside rail of her wardrobe and sometimes arranged them in colours also and into wide and narrow.

Zippy on the other hand was the complete opposite, same blond curly hair and complexion. His room was that of a typical five year old with ‘Leggo’ everywhere, clothes in and out of half open drawers with his toys scattered and left where he had just finished playing with them. Books with his favourite pages ripped out and stuck on the wall with blue tack. His proper name was Peter Francis Campbell but he moved so fast, even as a toddler, he was nicknamed Zippy and he only answered to that name. When he started school in Kindergarten, the teacher did a roll-call and said ‘Peter Campbell’. He didn’t answer as he didn’t recognize himself.

Charlie now had the Adelaide family to himself. As he approached his farm, it stood like a jewel against the backdrop of a treed hill and his dam to one side sparkled in encouragement. The home with its red tin roof sat firmly on the ground as witness to a secure shelter. A wisp of smoke came beckoning from the chimney.

‘I like it already’ thought Margaret. Looks lovely Charlie she said.

Well, I must admit we did have a spring clean especially for your visit and a big throw-out of years of accumulated junk. The sort of thing people do when they prepare a place to sell-up. So I hope you like it. He thought, ‘And I also hope you like me. I certainly like the look of her. She seems a real Mum, comfortable and happy. Could I be that lucky?’

Charlie pulled up in front of the house and told his passengers to make themselves at home whilst he put the Land Rover into the four-bay farmyard shed. Gotta put it away from the frogs and spiders! he said as he drove away. Only kiddin’. The snakes come out at five o’clock and eat the frogs!

Then he thought, ‘That’s wasn’t the best thing to say by the look on Margaret’s face, especially Justine’s. I think she would be on the bus if there was one at the gate. I’d better be careful with my bush jokes. Maybe these city folk are on a different wave length.’

Charlie had kept the slow combustion stove going, damped down the flue, whilst they were at the Station and now he opened the woodbox and fueled it up again, placing the black iron kettle firmly on the hob. "Lots of boiling water Margaret, so you can make a cup of tea any time at all whenever you feel like it.

With that oven going all the time, Margaret said I will feel like cooking just so as not to waste the heat.

"You get used to that really. The fuel stove also heats the water for the washing up and the baths but in summer time we convert the whole thing over to gas because the heat in the kitchen would kill you. I bought a new gas stove the other day. I hope you like it. All the latest gadgets. It lights automatically.

Charlie pointed to the huge freezer and said, I keep extra supplies in the freezer and stock it up about once a month from town. Good for freezin’ the cane toads. Then he thought ‘God, I wish I hadn’t said that,’ followed by Actually, we don’t get many of those around here, it’s too dry, especially now. ‘Bugger!’

Justine said, Charlie, you are determined to frighten us with the wild-life, aren’t you? ~ us being City folk and all. But actually, you don’t scare us because we’ve got just as many creepy crawlies over in Adelaide and perhaps a few more that you haven’t heard about. Basically we are all Aussie’s, so we know the score.

Good. said Charlie. Come on, I’ll show you to your rooms and you can have a shower or whatever whilst I get some lunch for you. Then depending on how you feel we can do a tour of the property. There’s three hundred and fifty acres. Or we can leave it until tomorrow and just rest for today. I have a busy schedule for you for the week. Just stuff for you to get your bearings. There is camp drafting on that we will go to and a trip to town. The kids can go to the movies and Margaret, you and Justine can do some shopping for yourselves. Maybe we can buy some more plants for the home garden and put them in. The local town has everything, but now and again we go to the Big Smoke, to Brisbane, just for a look-see and a bit of fun. It’s half an hour by car, as you know, coming here from the train. So we are pretty central.

I belong to the Red Cross in Adelaide, and the Quilters Margaret said. Do they have a local branch here?

They sure do and a CWA, Country Women’s Association, as well as a Quilters group in town. Beryl made those lovely quilts on your beds. I know that Beryl goes to most things, so I’m sure she will take you. That is, if you decide to stay of course.

Charlie felt embarrassed again at jumping the gun and assuming too much. How could anyone not like his farm, his haven and his family before him, but he must not be too enthusiastic, ‘Calm down ol’ Charlie’ he told himself. ‘But I do like her, she’s tops.’

They spent a lovely week with Charlie and he was in his element showing them around as well as the daily life that Margaret might expect if she decided to marry him. She loved the property and the atmosphere, but mostly the freedom of no close neighbours. But most of all, she noticed how independent Charlie was, probably from living on his own for most of his life. How he could cook and clean and had habits of putting things in their place, including his clothes. He respected the inside of the house and always took his boots off at the back door, even if they were his special town shoes. He was attentive to her and Justine and the children and you could tell it wasn’t just show, it was ‘for real’. Towards the end of the week he had relaxed and came out with other funny quips that had been handed down to him through his family.

Margaret was amused and knew he had a dry sense of humour which to her was essential in any relationship. He also liked to watch the same programmes she did on telly, but his taste in country and western music jarred her a bit. Still, she thought ‘I could gradually slip in one or two of my CD’s and he might come around. He seems generous and kind and when I ask him to do this or that he says, ‘No problem, too easy.’ I like that’’

Justine had to admit that Charlie was a lovely man and a catch for anyone. She knew that her mother Margaret’s answer, would be ‘YES’.

Charlie was wrapped and on the way back to the Train Station to deliver the family for their return trip to Adelaide he stopped at Beryl’s place so they could say ‘Good-bye’. Before they could get out of the Land Rover for their goodbye hugs, Charlie yelled from the car window, She’s coming back to me Beryl. Like the computer said, we are a ‘PERFECT MATCH’. He beamed and looked across to Margaret, who placed her hand on his knee and gave it a knowing squeeze.

Charlie’s Farm

It was just great Frank. Best holiday I’ve had for a long time. Charlie Carter is a wonderful man and his farm is so lovely. We saw it in the drought, so God knows how fantastic it will look after the rains. I reckon I could live there tomorrow! Justine finished the last dregs of her coffee and placed her mug firmly on the table in a gesture of confidence.

You sound as if you would be on the next plane up there if you had your way. Frank was surprised at Justine’s enthusiasm, especially after her skepticism about the ‘PERFECT MATCH’ episode on the computer with her mother.

Frank and Justine, ‘Mr. and Mrs. Campbell’, had only been married for just over eight years, but long enough for Frank to adjust to Justine’s ways and for them to save and put the deposit down to build a house and have a mortgage like the rest of the world. As a couple, people thought they might have been brother and sister as they looked very much alike, same dark complexion, same features and very much the same attitude, mostly instigated by Justine and followed through by Frank to maintain a peaceful household. The children seemed to ask Justine permission for this or that as Frank always said, ‘Ask your Mother.’

Well Frank, as you know, I just went along to please Mum. She has been so down since Dad died, even though we all know he was an old soak. It’s been the first thing that she’s been keen about, but I didn’t really think anything would come of it. I know how much she loved Dad and just accepted his behaviour being drunk a lot of the time, as just part of him and made excuses for him. She was grateful that he was a passive drunk and not aggressive. Maybe that’s why my brother Charlie thought it acceptable behaviour to be like his Dad, except he is aggressive and more than Mum could really handle when he’s had too much to drink. I know she thought Dad was irreplaceable and he will always be in her mind, but that doesn’t mean that she has to die with him. After all, we all come into this world alone and that’s the way we leave it. However having said that, I must say I was really surprised at how they, Charlie and Mum, seemed to hit it off. The thing is they are the same age and even though their paths have been different, there is some connection in having grown up in similar era.

What’s he like, this Charlie Carter? Frank seemed interested or just curious.

Well, he’s a real gentleman actually. He is quite shy, being a bachelor and I think he must have been an only child as he never mentioned any sisters or brothers and for some reason we didn’t ask him. I suppose we didn’t want to seem too personal too soon. Anyway his Mother and Father had died some ten years ago and Beryl, a neighbour from next door has been giving him Sunday lunch for all that time and generally keeping an eye on him, much to the angst of her husband, Bob.

Yes, but what does he look like? Is he old and rickety. Is he handsome? Come on ~ Is he a catch? Would you go out with him after dark?

Actually, he’s very homely for a bachelor. Bit old for me sweetie! He’s quite independent around the house and in the kitchen. He’s about your height, about five foot ten and slim like you. He would have had bright red hair as a kid growing up and freckles to match ~ a real country kid. Now there are only traces of red hair mostly at the front. He’s a typical farmer I suppose. Looks tough on he outside, but shy and sensitive on the inside. You’d like him. He’s very likable. He wears shorts a lot so his legs are more brown than freckly and quite smooth. I bet it’s a different picture above his shorts line ~ probably as white as the day he was born. I suppose the hair on his legs just dropped off ‘cause he’s a similar age to Mum. Hair seems to disappear from one area when you get old and establish itself somewhere entirely different, like on a ladies chin or in an old man’s ears. Heaven forbid! Charlie and Mum reminisced about worldly things that happened in their time of growing up. He was very attentive to all of us and you could tell it was not just a ‘put on’ thing. He was genuinely thoughtful and caring of the kids and their welfare. He made arrangements for Sophie and Zip to go with Bob, his neighbour, to the local Camp Draft and Gymkhana where lots of kids their ages would be riding and jumping horses. They loved it and asked Mum that if she came to live with Charlie, could they come too and join the Gymkhana.

Sounds like you are sold on the idea too, Jus? Frank looked thoughtful. ‘Would his work and future on the step ladder in the Insurance Company ever amount to anything?’

I tell you Frank, if it wasn’t for your job, I’d be up there in a flash. You would love it. The people in the little town they go to for their bits and pieces, are so friendly. Not like here in Adelaide where everyone is so reserved and you have to have a gilt invitation before you can even say, ‘G’day’!

"As a matter of fact Justine, I was going to talk to you about this Insurance lark I’m mixed up with. There is so much ‘over the phone’ selling these days that really I am only a ‘Chief Clerk’ and the likelihood of promotion with over five hundred on the staff looks so remote. It’s hardly worth the wait. I wasn’t inclined to say anything to you before because I know we have a mortgage that will see us to the grave. I didn’t want to jeopardize our relationship by mentioning that I wasn’t all that happy at work and felt obliged to make the best of it for all our sakes.

Do you know that every night I tuck Sophie and Zippy into bed they both ask me for a horse, a dog, a cat and a farm and I keep thinking they will get over it and back to pressing buttons on their gadgets they use with the telly. But it’s been pretty consistent and now that your Mother has sold her home and the kids know that she is heading for Charlie’s place, they are really pushing the boat out."

Well, like you said, I wouldn’t say anything to you either about moving or your job as I know you are trying to do the right thing by all of us. But like me, I reckon at the back of everyone’s mind there is a little house, by a stream with wafting trees, gardens and animals, all waiting to be discovered and loved ~ a private little world of peace and happiness ~ Nirvana! I know it is only a dream, but Charlie’s place is halfway there and I know that if I asked Mum to ask him to keep an eye out for somewhere in the country near them for us, Charlie would do it. He wants to see Mum happy with her family around her. He said to me that he would love to have a ready made family and has always thought he’d missed out.

"Let’s do it Jus. Ring your Mother and put it to her. See her reaction. She might want a bit of peace away from us? I won’t do anything about the City job until something is definite eh? But even with the prospect it gives me enthusiasm and something to look forward too, making my day at the office that much shorter and bearable.

Margaret was overjoyed at the news that Justine, Frank and the children might follow her and she rang Charlie straight away asking for him to keep an eye out for a small property for them.

Beryl offered Margaret a room until the wedding that was arranged three weeks after Margaret arrived back at the farm. Margaret spent every day with Charlie who noticed a woman’s touch around his house with kitchen utensils being put in different places of greater convenience. He often remarked how nice Margaret had made the place and how sensible and convenient her new arrangements in the kitchen, as well as rearranging some of the other furniture.

Their emotional relationship had progressed from an initial handshake, to a hug, to a kiss on one cheek and now a kiss on both cheeks, brushing against lips with promises of things to come. They both grinned and giggled to cover the accidental contact, then parted for the night with a wave of ‘see ya’.

A couple of days before the wedding and the arrival of Frank, Justine and the children for the ceremony, (as well as Margaret’s other son Charlie who was ever skeptical about the whole affair and declined the invitation), Farmer Charlie said, "Margaret, I’ve been thinking, I have three legal subdivisions available on my farm and I could give one to Justine and Frank, and maybe your son Charlie if he’s interested, say one hundred acres each and with your money from the sale of your house, you could help them build homes of their own somewhere on the subdivisions? What do you think? Should we run it passed them when they come for the wedding?

Thing is too, that none of us are getting any younger and running this three hundred and fifty acres ~ the cattle muster, fencing, watering the stock, planting the crops, getting the cattle on the truck for market and hand feeding in the drought ~ it’s all hard work for me now and I could do with the help if Frank or Charlie, or both, were that way inclined. I have young Rick Jessop as my farm hand and I’m grateful for him, but it’s a big property and lots to maintain. I’m thinking of giving the third share to Rick. It’s only ten acres, but enough for him to be independent and on hand should I need any help. He is trained with National Parks and Wildlife and I have had him under my wing for a long time teaching him farm management.

Charlie, you’re a treasure. I’m sure they’ll jump at the chance, so we’ll have more than the wedding to celebrate. When you think about it, life is all a matter of chance and then maybe, choice. That we should both buy and learn how to work a computer and connect to the Internet and look up ‘PERFECT MATCH’.

"This day and age Margaret, all farmers need a computer just to run the farm and I toyed with the idea for months to look up ‘PERFECT MATCH’ because to me it was nearly as bad as looking up one of those porn sites, emotional stuff that I would never do. But being shy like I am, let’s face it, the computer put a barrier between me and in this case, you, and allowed me to be myself without feeling too inhibited. I keep pinching myself every morning when I look in the mirror, I say to my image, ‘you lucky ol’ bugger to have a lovely lady like Princess Margaret.’

"For how ever long we’ve got Charlie, we’ll have a good time and care for one another. There’re many kinds of love Charlie and I know I have found one of them with you so I’ll make that my vow in front of the preacher next week.

Bob’s Farm

DO IT TO ME ONE MORE TIME Beryl sang half under her breath as she flicked a cloud of dish washing liquid bubbles into the adjoining sink.

‘Dam, too much soap AGAIN, now I will have to rinse them’.

She felt guilty having to rinse them a second time, still seeing Bob turn the tap on and off cleaning his teeth to conserve only a cup full of water, his old habit even though the new dam had filled.

She rummaged under the remaining froth for the dirty breakfast plates and hummed ‘ONE MORE TIME’ ready for the next line, not to lose her singing place.

‘ONE MORE TIME’ she thought and remembered her first love, before Bob. How he put his hand down her blouse and she blushed. He said, ‘You are beautiful’ and she knew she was because he had said it. But she didn’t do it. She wondered if then was now, whether she would do it? ~ Probably not.

She remembered feeding the first baby, or was it the second? She couldn’t remember which one, greedily pulling and tugging at her breast and it reminded her of her first love. Not the feeding bit, but the contentment on the child’s face after he, or it could have been she, had a full belly and the bliss and innocence as the child’s head cushioned in satisfied sleep against her breast.

The contentment bit and the